#take the ramblings of a mad woman and go

[coatl-cuddles]

" WIP DELETE LATER 🤪🤪🤪" ok who gaf?

[llumimoon]

(me sitting here seething) ITS FINE its fine ITS FINE . I'LL GET MY LICENSE SOON ITS FINE

[dootznbootz]

There's something so specifically infuriating when someone uses one of your experiences or your demographic in an argument, especially if said argument is about spreading hatred or is just so wrong. They "speak on behalf of the ___" to say such fucked shit.

"You're not thinking of the ___!"

"I literally am ___. You saying that adds nothing as you do not speak for me or for other ___. Shut up."

[whiskingskin]

I don't have much knowledge about transgender topics other than being transgender myself for the past 11 years.. but it seems pretty obvious to me than in a cisgender society, 'man'>'woman'. Duh, right? Stick with me.

But that includes transgender people. If you're aspiring to be a man, or masculine, you will receive lashback from transphobic communities. No doubt in that. BUT, since you are transitioning into something desireable- a MAN, then the backlash you face also includes a begrudging respect. At least you picked yourself up and made yourself better, right? At least you aren't a woman anymore. At least now you can force yourself into spaces you may not have fit before- if only by nature of being The Man in the room. Your opinion gains a little validity, now, because you are a man, and while men can be stupid, the most stupid man is better than the smartest woman. You become comfortable in this. You ask your coworker if she would mind dropping this off for you, just really quick, it wont take her long. The country, the world, runs on the mindset that Men Came First, and always will. This feels good. It is addicting to be looked at first when the room asks a question. It feels amazing when you can walk through the gym, headphones in, knowing you're just Some Guy now, and you can workout in peace, without constant stares. Things are difficult, but the grass is greener, right?

So. you transition to a more fem appearance, or to a woman. You will receive backlash from every community. The girls who adored you as their 'token gay friend' will despise that you want to be them- that your presence will no longer bring safety, but more violence, from The Men. You are no longer their fun, safe Man. You are now a weird an off-putting Girl. Despite popular belief, women are not raised to be sweet. They, we, are raised to claw our way to the top. To be the prettiest, the smartest, to be the responsible one, to rip your sails and patch her own. They will smell your fear, and belittle you, because doesnt everybody know This Is What Its Like to Be A Woman? It doesnt occur to them that our society hates women more than it loves anything else. She knows, deep in her bones, but she doesn't want to be Too Political. There are infinite ways a woman can be Too Much. There are very few a woman can be Enough, as she is. They hate eachother, in little ways they never voice but in a whisper to her mirror at night. Your friend shows you a good primer and foundation. She insists you need it. The desires of Men fill countless candy colored tubes in her makeup bag. She insists she does it for herself. You wonder about Pore Size, when before, the miniscule holes in your skin weren't even a concept that had to be thought about, much less adressed. Now, you cleanse and tighten every morning, because they won't yell at you, if you dont, but their eyes will flicker and twinkle at the difference between, and she'll ask if you slept badly, if you are feeling okay. You ask your friend to join you to the gym, for the first time, because the stares towards your new leggings make your skin crawl. You just want to train, and you keep an ear bud out, because you learned the first time that His footsteps on the floor are not enough warning for what He will do. In the most liberal spaces, you will face discrimination for 'choosing' to become a Woman, becoming what is viewed as little more than livestock. Why would you choose this? Clearly something is wrong with you.

[benevolentbones]

newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: swearing, v mild dirty thoughts

word count: 1.3k

summary: your dad calls you on your day off

a/n: thank you so so much for all the support on my last few works, it means the world!! i love reading through all the comments! please if you have a fic request please let me know!!

it had been a few days since you dropped in to visit your dad at the bau, but your mind kept wandering back to the hazel eyed man you met.

you found his awkwardness quite adorable, and the way his face flushed when you spoke to him, made you smile.

you had heard a lot about the team over the years, so it was nice to put faces to names after your father had returned home that evening.

today was your day off, and you didn’t really have many plans, maybe you’d go and grab a coffee or take a walk around the park, who knows.

you stretched back against the plush sofa in your living room, flicking through the channels on your tv.

your phone began to chime, blasting out your ringtone. you picked it up on third ring, bringing it to your ear.

“hello?”

“y/n, are you at home?” your father questioned.

“yeah dad- i’m just watching tv at the moment, what’s up?” you sat up, scooting to the edge of the couch.

“can you do me a huge favour?”

you hummed in response “what is it?”

“in my home office, i left the latest case files- would you come to the bureau and drop them off?”

you chewed your bottom lip. on one hand, you didn’t really want to drive thirty minutes to and from your dads work, just to be there for less than five minutes. on the other, those five minutes could be spent talking or spencer reid.

“i’ll be there soon, dad.” you replied, hanging up the phone.

~

you practically raced to the bureau, cutting the usual thirty plus minute drive down to twenty three. a new record.

you clutched the case files to your side, making your way inside the building and making a b line for the bullpen.

morgan, garcia and reid were all sat around spencer’s desk, the younger man rambling on about the book he had just finished reading, which was a recommendation from penelope.

“honestly the plot could have been better- and i didn’t really like the-“ spencer was interrupted with a dig from morgan, whos eyes were glued to the elevator doors of the bullpen.

“why’d you do that ow.” spencer complained, rubbing the aching spot on his forearm. he turned his gaze to where both morgan and garcia were looking.

and there you stood. you had just stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t in the same office attire you had adorned the last time you visited the bau.

you were wearing a tight pair of black jeans that flared slightly at the leg, with a striped button down fitted shirt which rode up slightly, showing off part of your midriff.

“damn little gideon is mad fine.” morgan mumbled earning a quizzical look from spencer.

“little gideon- ew is that what you’re calling her?” penelope’s face contorted into one of disgust.

“i mean, you aren’t wrong..” she added, the blonde woman was practically undressing you with her eyes.

“guys come on- that’s a bit much don’t you think?” spencer mumbled, though his eyes did not once leave your form as you walked across the room towards gideon’s office.

“you’re just saying that because you like her, ain’t that right lover boy?” morgan cracked a smile, smacking spencer on the shoulder.

“shut up man..”

“do you really think gideon would want you dating his daughter?” derek mused.

“i mean anything is better than you..” spencer mumbled jokingly.

you reached your fathers office, balancing the files in one arm while using the other to knock against the oakwood door.

“come in.”

you pushed the door open, to reveal gideon leaning back in his desk chair, case files spread across the table. he had a telephone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder.

“hey dad- i brought the files you needed.” you smiled, shuffling over to his desk and plopping the bundle of papers onto his cluttered work space.

“thanks hon, you want to wait outside? i’ll be done in a few minutes and we can grab a coffee?”

you nodded, allowing gideon to continue his phone call. you backed out of his office, walking down the steps into the main section of the bullpen.

you scanned the room, your eyes landing on the three agents huddled around spencer’s desk.

you plucked up the courage and began to saunter over to them.

“hey reid look.” penelope whispered just loud enough for spencer to hear, immediately his head shot up, his gaze softening when he realised you were making your way over to him.

“good luck tiger.” morgan grinned, both he and garcia leaving the premises upon your arrival, after giving you a small smile.

“hey dr. reid right?” you mumbled once you reached his desk.

his eyes met yours, through his wire-framed glasses, and he nodded.

“yeah- you can call me spencer though- you’re y/n? gideon’s daughter?” he stumbled upon his words, rushing the sentences together.

you hummed in response, perching yourself against the genius’ desk.

“he’s told me a lot about you.”

“all good things i hope-“ spencer began, a slight nervousness to his voice.

this made you chuckle, “yes, all good things, i promise.”

“i hope you don’t mind keeping me company, i’m just waiting for dad to get off of the phone.” you eyed spencer, watching as he frantically neatened his desk.

“no-no not at all, i’m enjoying your company.” he mumbled out.

from the corner of his eye he could see morgan and garcia watching their interaction from the kitchenette, morgan had a cocky grin plastered onto his face and garcia held her thumbs up supportively.

spencer let out a breathy sigh, slumping down into his desk chair. he pondered for a moment, considering being forward. he didn’t want to come across as too needy or awkward, but if he was being honest with himself that’s exactly what he was.

he watched as you sat on the edge of his desk, happily swinging you legs back and forth, glancing around the bullpen.

fuck it.

“y/n?” spencer began, not being able to stop the crimson staining his cheeks.

“spencer.” you giggled.

“would you, i don’t know maybe like to go for dinner sometime- with..me?” you could sense the anxiety in his voice, the brunette avoiding your gaze as he fumbled with a pen on his desk.

you felt your cheeks heat up, and you reached over to place a hand on spencer’s arm. his eyes flickered up to look at you when he felt your touch.

“i would love to, let me give you my number.” you smiled happily, jumping from the desk.

you took the pen from spencer’s grasp, your fingers brushing against his causing a spark from the contact.

you picked up a pad of sticky notes and began scribbling down your number.

as you were doing so, gideon had left his office and was making his way towards the two of you.

“here, i’m free friday if you are.” you mumbled, passing him the paper and pen back.

“o-okay i’ll call you.” spencer’s eyes were now on gideon who had come to an abrupt stop, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“lets get going, kid.”

you nodded, shooting spencer a smile. “i’ll see you soon, dr. reid.”

and with that you had walked on ahead, gideon bringing his arms into a folded position in front of his chest.

spencer swallowed hard, feeling beads of sweat build up on his forehead.

“you want to take my daughter out?”

“uh yes, yes sir-“

agent gideon pondered for a moment, eyeing the younger man. he had worked with him for a few years, he trusted him to be sensible with you, and out of everyone he was probably the best pick.

“better you than morgan.” gideon shrugged, and with that comment he followed you out the door.

[wileys-russo]

body slammer II a.russo

body slammer II a.russo

alessia was dancing like a mad woman beside ella in the poolside beach club, her carefree good mood fueled by many cocktails and the company of some of her best friends in the off season during a well earned little vacation.

it felt like years since she had been able to take a proper break and go on holiday, and to do it with the girls she hardly ever got to see all together from multiple aspects of her life only made it all the more enjoyable and easy for her to let loose knowing everyone was actually gettin along.

“less i’m gonna grab another one! you good?” ella yelled to her, cupping her hand around her ear due to deafening house music pumping around them.

“yeah i’m still goin!” alessia confirmed, yelling back and holding up her drink she’d only taken a few sips out of, the shorter girl beside her sending her a toothy grin and thumbs up before melting away into the crowd.

looking around and spotting the rest of their group not too far away alessia started to make her way over there, mumbling apologies as she elbowed her way through the throng of drunken party goers.

she had almost made it to her friends when she felt someone slam into her back, sending her hurtling forward and meaning her own body smacked into someone else’s, her drink going all over them as alessias eyes widened.

she opened her mouth to immediately ramble out a hasty apology but as the girl she’d just accidentally swilled turned around alessia seemingly went mute, apology drying up on her tongue before she could make it.

the girl was gorgeous, and it had alessia feeling light headed in a way she knew wasn’t just the alcohol currently pumping through her.

“i am so so sorry!” the blonde finally managed to spit out, the mystery girl simply grinning at her. “don’t be. i’d never wear anything here i didn’t expect to be covered in some sort of liquid, its like a zoo in there!” she laughed nodding behind alessia to the thickening crowd of sweaty bodies building behind her.

“you’re telling me, though i think whoever just rammed me might have actually realigned my spine?” alessia joked, stomach fluttering as she was rewarded with a loud bout of laughter from the girl in front of her.

“sounds like you should go thank them! chiropractors don’t come cheap you know.” the girl teased, her nose scrunching up as she grinned and alessia once more swooned.

“can i buy you another drink?” the blonde moved a little closer due to the noise and offered sincerely. “you’re offering to get me a drink when you just spilled yours?” you asked with an amused smile, alessia’s cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as she nodded none the less.

“you’re cute. i should go find my friends before one of them disappears in there, once calvin harris starts later i fear i may not ever be able to get them back.” you’d grinned, and before alessia could even say another word you’d pressed a kiss to her cheek and you were gone, leaving the blonde tenderly touching her face which burned where your lips had just been.

with a deflated huff she dumped her now empty cup onto a nearby table and continued on her way to find her friends, throwing herself down onto a sun lounge.

“woah now! we’re in ibiza baby, why the long face?” katie asked as she sat down beside the blonde. “i bumped into a cute girl, spilled my drink all over her and didn’t even get her name before she dissapeared!” alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face before flicking her sunglasses off the top of her head and sliding them onto the bridge of her nose.

“i’ll say it again we’re in ibiza russo there’s loads of fit girls around, go find someone else to dance and flirt with!” katie shouted, handing the blonde her drink to finish off and running away after vic who snatched her sunglasses off her head.

sculling the last few mouthfuls of the lukewarm tequila alessia winced at the alcohol burning it’s way down her throat before deciding to heed anna’s words.

she grabbed ella’s hand as her friend returned, dragging them both back onto the dance floor.

but hard as she tried to dance and drink the afternoon away to forget you, you were a thought that consistently lingered in the back of alessia’s mind.

which is why when she heard someone call out her name and quickly turned, knocking into someone who stood a lot closer than she had bargained, alessias hands quickly steadying them as they slipped, a smile tugged at her lips seeing she had once again bumped into you, literally.

“i’m beginning to think you’re doing this on purpose now!” you teased, alessia instantly noticing you’d ditched the top she’d spilled her drink all over last time and your top half was now only just covered by a bright green bikini. it took all of her willpower to focus her eyes on you and not your partially exposed chest.

“no i think this time’s on you!” alessia grinned, her left hand resting on your waist where she’d grabbed at you to stop you from falling over. “alessia.” the blonde removed her hand from your side and held it out with a beaming white toothed smile as she introduced herself.

“then consider us even!” you winked, cheekily snatching her drink from her right hand and once again melting away into the crowd.

“hey! you pinch my drink and i don’t even get to know your name?” alessia didn’t let you get away so easily this time, shouldering her way over to you and slinging an arm lazily around your waist to stop you from running away again.

“i believe in fate alessia, so let’s see if this happens again then and maybe you can get my name if you’re lucky.” you shamelessly flirted, sending her one more wink and again kissing her cheek before charging off after your friends into the crowd.

“unbelievable.” alessia threw her head back with a groan before hands fell to her shoulders and her friends surrounded her, dragging her away with them as the sun began to set, bathing the cluster of drunken sweaty bodies below in a golden orange glow.

deciding that it clearly wasn’t meant to be, alessia didn’t even know your name let alone if you were into girls, she forced you once again to the back of her mind, throwing down shots and cheering loudly as they announced calvin harris.

“let’s go!” hands intertwined with hers as her group pushed in closer toward the stage, alessia almost tripping over her own feet she was tugged aggressively into the crowd, though she waved it off with a tipsy laugh as she hugged her friends and whooped loudly as the familiar bass started to boom beneath their feet.

the set was halfway through when alessia once again spotted you, huddled a few feet away inbetween a group of girls and throwing your head back with a laugh as one of them poked at you, twirling you around and forcing alessia ignored the weird jealous clenching of her stomach at the sight.

she heard her friends yell out for her as she began to break away from them, fueled by tequila shots and liquid confidence she shrugged off their hands and made a beeline toward you.

unbeknownst to alessia you’d already spotted her a few moments earlier, yelling in your friends ear that the girl you’d been flirting with before had indeed found you again like you hoped.

which was why it came as no surprise to you when your best friend twirled you around, “accidentally” shoving you backwards and sending your body hurtling into alessia’s whose hands again grabbed protectively at your hips to stop you from taking the two of you down onto the ground.

“we simply have to stop meeting like this.” you grinned, your friend winking at you from behind the blonde and holding her drink up in a silent cheers before turning away back to your group.

“third time seems the charm then, i’m alessia.” the taller girl wasted no time introducing herself again, knowing it meant you would need to finally reveal your own name.

“so you already said.” you teased, purposefully not giving in to what you knew she was after and watching the girl in front of you shake her head with a knowing smirk.

“it’s not nice to lie, i believe you said if this happened again i’d finally get your name.” alessias body pressed in closer to yours, her hand moving to sit at the small of your back as your own stomach now fluttered.

“I said if you were lucky!”

“well i’m certainly feeling lucky. if i do get your name then maybe you’ll be forgiven for stealing two drinks from me.”

“stealing two drinks? i think you’ll find i’m the one whose still owed an apology body slammer!”

“give me your name and maybe you’ll get a third drink and an apology.” alessia bargained, tilting her head with a sly grin as you shook your own in amusement.

“y/n.” you finally revealed, someone knocking into you from behind meaning you were thrust even closer into alessia, both of you now chest to chest as you both shared a smile, clearly not minding.

“come on then body slammer.” you grabbed her hand tugging her with you as alessia laughed at her apparent new nickname, the music getting louder and louder as pushed deeper into the crowd.

alessia tensed in surprise as you stopped and grabbed her hands, placing them on you as you started to dance, purposefully pressing yourself into her.

recovering from the brief shock the blonde wasted no time in pulling your body tightly into hers, the two of you grinding against one another to the beat, surrounded by hundreds of drunken party goers all doing the same.

by the third song you’d turned so the two of you were now dancing face to face and alessia couldn’t help but find her eyes flickering down to your lips every few seconds, a habit which didn’t go unnoticed to you as your arms wrapped around the back of her neck.

the two of you now locked eyes and you nodded reassuringly as the taller girl leant down but paused briefly, craning your neck to meet her halfway, both of your stomachs doing backflips as your lips met.

neither one of you sober it didn’t take long until the kiss became a little sloppy, alessia ramming her tongue down your throat as you held back a moan and forced yourself to pull away.

over her shoulder you noticed one of your friends frantically waving toward you, struggling to hold up your best friend who had clearly had too much to drink, signalling they were leaving.

leaning in again you shouted your phone number into the blondes ear, removing her hands from where they’d wandered dangerously low down your body and striding off toward your friends without another word, leaving the striker positively dumbstruck behind you.

“i better get a message body slammer, you still owe me that third drink, and an apology!” you turned to call out teasingly toward her, alessias once defeated expression quickly brightening as she scrambled to pull her phone out of her bag.

and it was safe to say you most certainly did get a message, and it was far from the last you saw of the blonde.

[the-palelady]

listen. if you don’t like sabrina carpenter that’s fine, but that woman’s outfits are so stunning and i can just imagine ghost going absolutely mad seeing you in them.

especially in something like THIS. that man would go absolutely fucking feral.

normally he would be ripping your cute little outfits and lingerie at the seams, but oh no, not this one. the baby blue just looked so perfect, hugging your curves in all the right places. he had to keep this outfit safe no matter the cost.

one night, you slip it on right before he comes home from work, and set yourself up all pretty for him. your hair fanning out across your face, skin glowing, an angel amongst a sea of blankets and pillows right there on top of his bed.

simon’s angel.

and oh he is on his knees for you.

he’d worship every last inch of your body. those perfect, round tits that he’d suck into his mouth eagerly. he’d kiss down the plump of your tummy, the dip of your hips, until he’s nestled in between your legs.

he’d kiss along your inner thighs, moving his thumb up to rub at your sensitive nub, your back arching up into him, whining out his name like the pretty little thing you were.

simon would take his time with you. always does. he doesn’t want to hurt his girl when he finally does settle himself in between your legs, his cock heavy and sliding against your folds. the lingerie is still on, panties tugged to the side around his thumb.

“all this for me?” he’d ask in that deep, loving voice, reserved only for you. strands of his golden hair, that have grown out a bit more than usual, stick to his forehead. a handsome grin is plastered along his scarred face, lust filled eyes gleam down at you and you’d whine.

god, you loved him so much.

and he’d let you know he felt the same, wrapping his hands around the curve of your waist while he pressed himself into you. pressed himself into heaven.

“look at ya. so pretty.” you swear you hear him whine.

“takin’ me so well like a good girl.” this time you whine.

his thumb comes up to rub at your clit again while he pistons into you relentlessly. his tip hits that sweet spot so deep inside that you see stars and he backs off for a moment before hitting it over and over again.

your moans only encourage him further, his free hand roaming you like he can’t keep off of you, can’t get enough of you.

he grabs your jaw, your lips pursing from his grip. simon looks down at you with an expression so feral you could have orgasmed from that alone.

“gunna fill ya fulla me, sweet’art, that alright?”

you whine and beg for him.

yes. please, simon. inside, please.

“sing for me, angel. i wanna hear tha pretty voice.”

and you do sing for him. his name falling from your lips like a hymn, a gentle song only meant for his ears. simon can’t help but hold onto you tighter, gruff hands digging into the meat of your hips as you clench around him so tight he feels dizzy.

and he all but loses his damn mind, fucking you into the mattress despite how overstimulated you are. tears stain your pink cheeks and he thumbs them away, pressing into you so far you can feel him in your guts.

simon’s rambling, his forehead pressing into your temple as you cry out, your tears dampening his cheeks.

“ya look like a fucking goddess in this damn outfit. so beautiful. dunno wha tha fuck i did in my past life, but damned brute like me doesn’t deserve ya.”

he won’t stop talking. it’s all so much, yet the praise is sending you over the moon. your skin is on fire where his thrusts meet your ass, and you know there will be purple hand shaped bruises blooming along the expanse of your body when the morning comes.

“fuckkk,” his hips stutter slightly, your core becoming tight as he pulls himself completely out and slams himself right back to the hilt continuously.

“gunna breed this pretty pussy,” and you clench around him so fucking tight he almost collapses, a guttural moan escaping his chapped lips.

“ya like that, baby? want me to make ya a mummy?”

your back arches and you scream for him, white consuming your vision. simon’s hands grab ahold of your plump thighs and his hips roll down into you one last time. he twitches inside of your warmth while his spend coats your velvety walls. his arms reach up to wrap around your torso that’s still arched, his forehead pressing into your ribs as he catches his breath.

you both sit this way for a while, until he regains his composure and lowers your tired body back down to the bed.

when he sits up right your eyes are closed, long lashes tickling the apples of your blushing cheeks. your breathing is even now, and your skin is somehow glowing even more than it was when he first walked in. your hair cascades out around you like a wave. his palm hesitantly glides up along your tummy as if taboo. as if someone like him was undeserving of someone as soft as you.

and simon swears when he looks up at you, taking you in completely, he sees the glow of a halo above your head and a pair of angel wings nestled against the silk sheets of the bed beneath you.

[abbyshands]

finger sucking w/nerdy!gf abby

warnings; finger sucking (obv), implied (ish?) gagging, talk of a strap-on but not used, abby refers to the strap-on as her dick, strap-on is referred to as her dick

a/n; i've had this idea non stoppp ugh so i had to get a lil drabble out :3 and thank you SO much for all the love on my first fic, i'm so honored <3 if you have any ideas you want me to do a drabble/fic for, plspls lmk!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

god, most days you just can’t shut those pretty lips of yours, not around her, anyway. your girlfriend is serious in regards to her college classes: doesn’t miss a single homework assignment, spends at least an hour every evening on her work, and the library is her home away from her dorm.

and you, of course.

abby anderson wasn’t sure what to look out for when she began to fall for one of the most well known girls on campus. seriously, you were like one of those girls out of the movies: popular, pretty girl, cheer team, flawless persona. everyone loved you, including herself.

you were a nice girl, but that mouth of yours was a killer. abby wasn’t just your girlfriend, but your best friend, and you told her every little detail about every little thing you did. rambling and rambling, you’d probably go for hours if she didn’t stop you.

in general, abby didn’t mind that, because it wasn’t that she wanted to feel like you weren’t being heard by her. she did care, and she did want to hear you out. but it’s when you began to do it when she was busy with her work, that it became a bit of a problem.

and even if it doesn’t seem like she is on the surface, the raging dom in your nerd of a girlfriend just can’t help but take care of it.

she had had it with the rambling for this evening. you were perched in her lap, rattling off every single thing wrong with how cheer had gone today. some girl had messed up her form, which made an issue for you and the girls on your team, etc, etc, etc.

god, did abby love you, but, fuck, did you need to shut up every once in a while.

one second, you’re speaking, babbling away. but before you even know it, your open lips are getting pushed past by abby’s index and ring, which get shoved knuckle-deep into the back of your throat. “hush, baby,” abbys commands.

your eyes widen in surprise, eyebrows raising as you let out a small, “mmph!” and whimper. what the hell had she done that for? you hadn’t even been misbehaving! so then, you find yourself grumbling, giving abby a confused look, face hot.

abby obviously doesn’t feel like explaining. when does she ever? she could care less about your opinion when it came to things like this. just take what she gives you. she shushes you, not giving a care in the world how curious you are for her reasoning. “shhh. suck, baby, suck,” she said firmly.

you didn’t want to listen at first. you were in the middle of speaking, for god’s sake, and you wanted to finish what you were saying. but you were a simple woman, and this was just like every other time you had sucked abby’s fingers: your body was physically relaxing, calming as every word you’d been saying before leaves your head.

and then your head was on abby’s chest, eyes closed, and hands in your lap as you sucked her fingers like a baby. “mhm,” abby coos, knowing full well how easy you were. it was such a simple task, shutting you up, that is. “good girl. so cute like this, princess.”

“mmm,” you let out softly, cuddling into her closer, if that’s even possible. you can’t even remember to get mad at her, or ask her why she was shushing you like this. if it means her fingers in your mouth, you don’t give a fuck. abby can’t help but chuckle, her other hand on your hips.

“there you go. such a pretty baby. you suck so well for me, doll,” abby whispers. the way she says it makes your mind flash with all the times she’s made you suck on her strap, giving you words of praise as you did it, because that’s what a good girl deserves.

“you know i love hearing you, baby, but i’ve gotta focus now, okay?” abby says in a tone that sends butterflies down to your abdomen, and maybe somewhere lower, too. you do what you can to nod, sucking abby’s fingers like a pacifier as she cradles you like a baby.

abby smiles down at that pretty, fucked-out look on your face, even when she hasn’t done much at all to you, and goes on. “maybe if you behave, i’ll let you suck my dick a little later, yeah? that sound fair to you?”

it’s like she can read your mind. of course it does, you like the sound of it a bit too much. so you nod once more.

it’s a win-win, really. she got to have her peace, and you got to feel better by sucking on her fingers. and just then, abby thrust her fingers deeper into your mouth, letting you curl your tongue around them as you moan.

“promise you if you’re good for me, i’ll give you all my attention when i’m done with my work. just keep being good, n’ sucking me, okay?” abby asks, moving her free hand from your hip back to her homework. you miss the feeling, but you know how abby feels In regards to her classes, her homework, school in general. so you nod.

“mhm,” you murmur, lips around abby’s fingers. but abby pulls them back, your own drool covering them when she does, and you whimper at the loss. god, she was just playing with you now.

“say it,” she says firmly, the kind of tone you know she only uses when she’s not playing around.

but then again, when is she ever?

“i- i will, abby,” you say in response, giving her those sweet puppy-dog eyes of yours, begging her to give you her fingers back. she smiles.

“that’s a good girl.”

so as she’s doing her work, she’s sitting in her chair, you cradled in her lap with her fingers deep inside your mouth, bouncing you up and down on her lap to keep you calm. it’s almost fucking childish, but, fuck, does it give you butterflies.

and once she’s done with her work, she pulls her fingers from your lips, covered in your spit and all. that’s when she kisses you, slow and sloppy, giving you all the attention that your plump lips are so badly craving. she finds the way you take her glasses off to kiss her adorable, because it shows just how needy you are.

and to reward you for being so good for her, she’ll have you sit up in her lap, thighs on both sides of it, and use those same drool drenched fingers to finger you, letting you ride her up and down like the good girl you are. you think of that “later” she promised you, mouth wrapped around her dick as you suck her off, and that only drives you even crazier as you’re riding your gf <3

[skzdarlings]

05. sharing a bed series ; skz ; han

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 5/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: han jisung/reader content info: dom!reader. sub!jisung. sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. past misunderstandings, grudges, bickering. femdom feat: face slapping, face sitting, hair pulling, choking, riding, denial-n-cumming-anyway, kneeling, more pussy eating. this one is a little longer. teehee :)

-

“Hey, I hope you had a good flight…”

Chan’s voice message crackles through your phone speaker but you can barely hear him over the bustling airport. You wait until you are outside in the pick-up zone to try listening again.  It is marginally quieter out here, cars coming and going, light snowfall brightening the winter night.  With your luggage at your feet, you replay his voice mail. 

“Hey, I hope you had a good flight.  Something came up at work and I’m not gonna be able to pick you up.  I’m really sorry ‘bout it, mate.  Jisung is on his way to get you.  I know, I know, but he’ll get you home, yeah?  If you’re still mad tomorrow, I’ll take you to lunch and you can kill me there.  Buh-byyeeeee!”   

Oh, that son of a bitch. 

The message ends just as a pair of headlights flash over you.  You can see through the front window but despite the direct eye contact Jisung still feels the need the honk the horn not once, not twice, but three times. 

You stand there with your arms hanging helplessly at your sides.  Snow falls on your head and a frown darkens your whole face.  Jisung just smiles and waves like an idiot, honking the horn again. 

I am going to kill Chan, you think to yourself. 

Jisung loves putting you in situations where you are the unrepentant supervillain of his life, so ignoring him and getting in a cab would just play into his horrible little hands.  He might look unassuming in his puffy coat and backwards cap, might look soft and friendly with his fair hair and plushy pink smile, might look innocent with his big brown eyes peering at you with cartoonishly saccharine enthusiasm, but in reality none of that is true. 

Han Jisung is the worst. 

Han Jisung is your nemesis. 

Han Jisung honks the horn again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you shout.  You roll your eyes and heft your luggage over your shoulder, stomping with an incredible degree of petulance for a woman of your age.  You toss your bag in the trunk then slide into the passenger seat. 

Jisung honks again. 

“Hello, hello, welcome to Flight H.A.N with Jisung airlines, this is your pilot speaking—”

You turn on the radio to shut him up.  You are not in the mood for his shenanigans. 

Jisung cringes with theatrical chagrin.   

“Yikes,” he says with a bubbly laugh.  “Tough crowd.”

“Just drive.”  

“Yes, mistress, right away, mistress, Jisung lives to serve his mistress, please don’t hurt Jisung or leave him out in the cold tonight—”

You thunk your head against the headrest, glaring ahead as Jisung smoothly joins the traffic flow despite his nonsensical rambling. 

You vaguely remember a time when Jisung was shy, back before he made it his life mission to send you hurtling into an annoyance-induced death.  You also vaguely remember a time you liked him, him and his quietness, him and his quirky humour, him and his big, stupid, brown eyes. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Jisung sings along with the radio so you flip the station to one with talking.   He strums his fingers on the steering wheel, lips pursed and eyebrows lifted.  He casts you a few side glances that you pointedly ignore.   When you see him open his mouth, you hold up a finger. 

“Do not even think about it,” you say.  “Whatever you were about to say or do… Don’t.”

He presses his lips together and makes an obnoxiously loud pop.

“Kk,” he says.  “This should be a fun half hour.”

The airport is outside of the city, a half-hour drive to your downtown apartment.  Usually.  The weather has traffic horrifically backed up.  Half an hour comes and goes and you are barely out of view of the airport. 

“We could play a game,” Jisung says, looking at you sideways.  “I spy with my little—”

“Nope.”

“Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool.”  He nods, strumming the steering wheel again. 

The radio blathers on, you barely listening.  You scroll through your phone until there are zero notifications, then you scroll through your photo album just for something to look at.  Jisung hums to himself and you try not to get annoyed all over again.  You exploding at something so inconsequential would give him way too much satisfaction.   

The snow comes down harder.  It pulls your attention from your phone to the blustery world outside.  Everything is a harsh grey, the dark night foggily illuminated by the white snow.  Even Jisung is concentrating now, his brow furrowed as he stares through the front window. 

“Shit,” he says. 

He changes stations to catch a road update.  Your jaws drop in unison when the reporter mentions a thirteen hour delay on the main bridge into the city. 

“Thirteen fucking hours?” you say.  It comes out wheezy.  “It’s winter!  Why are they always so surprised by the fucking snow!  God!  What the hell are we gonna do?”

“We’re not going anywhere near the bridge, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Jisung says, flipping the car into reverse and immediately changing course. 

“How else are we getting downtown?” 

He looks at you like you’re so stupid that he can’t believe it, his eyebrows jumping up his face. 

“Uh, hello, welcome back to town, it’s snowing here,” Jisung says.  “We’re going downtown tomorrow when it won’t kill us or trap us in a car—”

“I want to go home—”

“Do you want to spend thirteen hours in a car with me?”  Jisung asks.  “Because that’s what going home will involve right now, k?”

He sounds terse.  You feel a little better when he acts short with you too, more justified in your own rudeness. 

“Fine,” you say.  “What are we doing then?”   

A ten minute trip turns into an hour long drive with traffic delays, but eventually you are rolling into the snow-covered parking lot of the only motel with a vacancy sign.  You and Jisung do not speak, stepping out of the car and crunching along the snow in silence.  The motel parking lot is washed a golden colour, the yellow balcony lights beaming over the white snow.   It holds the promise of warmth.   You hurry inside. 

You shake yourself off in the tiny entryway while Jisung dings the desk bell.  Someone appears to check you in. 

“You’re a lucky couple,” she says.  “Lots of folks have stopped because of the weather.  We have exactly one room left available.  It’s a nice cozy double bed.  Sounds good?”  

“Ummm…”  You join Jisung at the desk, a million frantic thoughts running through your brain.  “Hold on, we’re not—”

“Did you hear that, baby?” Jisung says with exaggerated fondness, because he can’t help but taunt you.  “We’re a lucky couple.  Isn’t that just our luck the only room available has one bed?” 

You step on his foot deliberately and he yelps. 

“Is there really no other option?” you ask the attendant with some degree of desperation. 

“No, sorry.”  She gives you a funny look but shakes her head.  “I doubt you’ll have better luck finding a room anywhere else tonight.  You can have this one or enjoy a car nap.” 

“My beautiful wife and I are happy with a double,” Jisung says, already holding out his credit card.  “Right, baby?” 

You smack his ass, hard and swift.  His eyes widen.   You smirk.

“Right, baby,” you say with a snarl. 

-

Tonight’s only saving grace is the hot water; you enjoy a long shower before changing into sleep shorts and a camisole.   You join Jisung in the room, finding him sprawled on the double bed with air pods in his ears.  He tossed his hat somewhere and is laying there in jeans and a t-shirt – remarkable, as you thought he might strip to his underwear just to be annoying.  But no, he lays there peacefully.  His fair hair is darker at the root, neatly framing his unfortunately handsome face.  He has one arm flexed under his head, the muscle more pronounced than you remember it being.  His eyes are closed as he nods along to the music. 

You grab a pillow and thwack him in the gut.  It startles him to attention, a strangled sound leaving his throat. 

“You stay on that side of the bed and you do not move, got it?” you say. 

He sticks his tongue out at you.   

“Very mature,” you say. 

You lay down with your back to him.  After twenty minutes, he still has his bedside light on so you snap at him.  He whines like a little baby but turns it off, leaving just his phone beaming at his face.  You can hear his music but say nothing. 

You can’t sleep.  You want to roll over but you absolutely refuse to face him. 

His phone screen finally goes dark after god knows how long and he puts it aside.  There is a long stretch of silence in the dark.  You swear you have never been so uncomfortable laying on this side in all your life.  Knowing you will not be able to sleep without turning at least once, you decide to roll over.  You figure Jisung laid down with his back to you anyway.

He didn’t.  He is staring right at you, his big eyes making him look like a pathetic little lemur gawping at a human in the dark. 

“Why don’t you like me?” Jisung says.

“Oh no,” you say, immediately rolling onto your back.  “Absolutely not.  We are not having a heart to heart.”

“Oh come oooon, please,” he whines.  “This is the time and place—”

“It really isn’t—”

“It’s a classic story, a boy, and a girl—”

“I don’t like stories—”

“Forced to share a bed and share their secret feelings—”

“Those feelings are disgust, hatred, and revulsion—”

“Opening their hearts and—whoa, wait, what?  Hatred?  You hate me?”  Jisung pushes himself up on one elbow, staring down at you with a completely horrified look on his face. 

You try to ignore him and his stupid expressions, glaring at the ceiling as if it can do anything to save you.   Your heart is beating fast but it doesn’t feel good.  The pounding is coupled with a nauseous turn in your gut.

It is open knowledge that you do not like Han Jisung one bit, but you seldom vocalize it so explicitly.  Certainly not to his face.  Certainly not beside him in bed. 

“That can’t possibly surprise you,” you say.

“Well, it does actually!”  Jisung says.  “I knew you didn’t like me but hate me?  How could you hate me?  I’m delightful.” 

Even now, the clown is trying to joke.  Because that’s all it is to him, isn’t it?  Everything is just a joke all the time.  Everything and everyone is a punchline waiting to happen.  But you aren’t laughing.  Your hands close into fists and you dig your nails into your palms to keep your frustration in check.  Your neck feels hot and your stomach is still turning.  You feel embarrassed about things you haven’t even said yet.  Your tongue feels swollen somehow, your throat lined thickly.  It takes several deep breaths before you can speak.

“Well,” you say bitterly, “I guess I just can’t help being a massive bitch.  The worst you’ve ever met, right?” 

There is a beat of silence, then Jisung flips on the bedside light.

You slap your fists down on the bedcovers and glare at him.

“Turn off the light,” you say. 

“No way, you were just talking in a voice.  What did you mean? Why do you--”

“Jisung, I swear to god, if you don’t turn off that light—”

“Look, can we just—”

You shove the covers down and climb on top of him without thinking, trying to reach the light yourself.  He grabs you by the arms and pushes you back.  You end up tussling ungracefully, you wriggling around like a worm and Jisung clearly in control but just as clearly trying to go easy on you.  It puts you at an impasse.  With an angry huff, you push away from him.

“If I said something—” he starts. 

You laugh, a joyless cackle. 

“If,” you repeat.  “You’ve said a lot of somethings over the years, Jisung.” 

“I—I didn’t mean it if I—I don’t even know what I—”

You look at him.  He seems to be genuinely confounded and more than a little miserable, his eyes darting around as he racks his brain, his brow furrowed with obvious upset.  His hand is frozen on his head, a clump of hair feathering through his fingers. 

He meets your gaze and you roll your eyes.  You feel hot and uncomfortable again, the source of your nausea climbing up and up and up until it is clawing its way past your lips and—

“The day we met,” you say, finally, after years of stamping down the humiliating memory, “you said I was a massive bitch, the worst you had ever met.  And it—”

You are not sad.  You refuse to be sad.  This pain is years old now and it does not hurt you anymore.  But you are angry –  with him, with yourself, with this whole shitty circumstance, and the angrier you get, the more tears stab at your eyes. 

You swallow down a lump in your throat and take a steadying breath.  You stare at the wall because his attentive, earnest gaze is too much to bear. 

“I know I’m a little awkward when I first meet people,” you say.  “I’m shy and weird and sometimes… sometimes people think I’m a bitch when really I’m just quiet.  Chan introduced me to you because he said that you were kinda the same, and that we had lots in common, and he thought we would get along.  And then we met and—”

“We did,” Jisung says softly.

Your vision is blurry now.  You sniff hard, wiping your arm under your nose. 

“Yes,” you say.  “We did.  We got along amazing.  We were quiet for a second and then it was like… like we were already friends. As if we always knew each other. I’ve never spoken like that to someone so quickly.  It’s like I just forgot to be shy.   I was so happy and then—”

“I remember all this,” Jisung says, still sounding confused.  “I don’t get it.  It was Changbin’s birthday, right?  We were talking all night and it was great but then you just left without saying bye.  Then the next time we met you already hated me—”

You finally look at him, hitting him with the full force of your emotional expression.  He clearly was not expecting the tears because he literally jumps at the sight of you. 

“I left after overhearing you talk about me in the kitchen to one of your stupid friends,” you snap.  “’That woman is without doubt a totally massive bitch.  The worst I’ve ever met.’  And you were laughing.  Just… just standing there laughing about it, about me.  And I had no idea why.  Why?  What had I said or done?  It was humiliating.  And it hurt, and the reason it hurt so bad was because it came from you.”  You jab him in the chest, trying to sound angry because your tears are falling now and it just makes you feel pathetic.  “It hurt, Jisung,” you say, “because it was you.  From anyone else I wouldn’t care.  But you were the one person I expected to understand me.  The one person who got what it was like.  So to hear you saying those things—god.  I never wanted to see you again, but then you and Chan started your stupid projects together and I couldn’t get away from you.  And you just got more and more in my face no matter what I did—”

“Oh my god.” Jisung slaps both hands to his head.  He closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe what he is hearing.  “Hold on,” he says, abruptly getting out of bed.  “Just… just hold on.” 

He runs away.  You sit there more confused than anything, your face wet, your breathing uneven.  He is gone long enough for you to get angry again, glaring at him when he gets back in the bed.

“Here,” he says, giving you the tissue box he evidently retrieved from the bathroom.  “Just… here.” 

He takes a tissue and awkwardly dabs at your cheek.  You snatch it away from him, frowning. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he says.  He gets off the bed again, hovering awkwardly at the side while you wipe your face clean.   He waits until you are composed, swaying where he stands, clasping and unclasping his hands.  When you stop sniffling, he lets out a huge exhale.  “Okay,” he says.  “Look.  I’m sorry.  I’m… I’m really, really fucking sorry.  And I want to explain, I really do, but… but if I explain, I think it’s only gonna make you upset.”

You give him a very sarcastic look.

“I’m already upset, you stupid jerk,” you say.  “Just spit it out so I can go to sleep.” 

“Right.”  He runs his hand through his hair again.  It falls softly down and flutters when he exhales.  “God.  Okay.  This is gonna sound so stupid.  But, yeah, okay, I do remember saying that actually.  I didn’t know you heard me but… but that’s not an excuse.  I know.  I shouldn’t have said it at all.  I totally do know that.  But also… I said it, but I didn’t.  What I mean is, what you heard me saying, I was not actually saying.”

You stare at him for a long moment. 

“What,” you say, “the fuck?” 

He waves his hands around defensively. 

“What I mean is,” he says, “and stay with me… but… I actually meant it as a compliment.” 

“A compliment,” you say.  “A compliment?  You called me a massive bitch as a compliment?”

“Yes.” 

“Do you seriously expect me to believe that?” you shout, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at him.

His reflexes are fast.  He ducks and the pillow sails over his head, whacking the blinds with a clatter.  He looks there then looks at you, just in time for you to throw the tissue box.  He dodges that too, ducking down again.  The box hits the radiator and thunks to the ground. 

“Okay, listen—” he says.

He is not fast enough when you chuck the second pillow. 

“Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he says, holding the offending pillow up in surrender.  He tentatively approaches the bed with it, eying you as he gently lays it back down.

You glare.

“I promise I can explain,” he says.  “And you’re gonna love this explanation, because it is going to completely and totally humiliate me and you will have something to hold over my head for the rest of your life.”

“I’m listening,” you say.  You feel embarrassed about crying so the least he can do is embarrass himself too. 

“Thank you,” he says.  He gets back on the bed, kneeling and tipping his head back.  It looks like he’s praying, gathering the strength to admit whatever he is about to admit. 

You cross your arms.  You are annoyed he is taking so long and also annoyed that you genuinely want to know.  Han Jisung has no problem blurting every stupid thought that crosses his mind, at least when it comes to you, so you cannot begin to imagine what dark secret he can’t bring himself to speak out loud. 

You are halfway convinced he is trying to come up with a lie when he finally throws his arms out as if in supplication. 

“I’m a fucking freak!” he says, with all the verve and jubilation of hallelujah.  He closes his eyes and nods his head.  “I’m a pervert and I think with my dick like ninety-eight per cent of the time.  The other two per cent of the time I am honestly probably thinking with my prostate, though I haven’t really worked that one out yet completely—”

“What?”  Your whole face screws tight with bewilderment.  “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I love bitches.  No wait.”  He shakes his head.  “That came out wrong.  Hold on.  I love… well, yeah, no, bitches.  Mean girls.  Bullies.  Catwoman.”

“Catwoman.”

“That whip… t-cha.”

“Jisung—”

“Look I was telling my friend about you because Minho’s an even bigger freak than me.  He’s the only one who knows my secret and—”

“Your secret,” you say slowly. “That you… like bitches?”

“That I love bitches,” he says.  “When I told him that you were the biggest bitch I ever met, it was because we both knew that what I meant was: holy shit dude, I just found my soulmate, she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, I’m getting married tonight, and if she asked me to tattoo her face on my butt right now I would do it.” 

You hate that you laugh, but the comment is so unexpected that it sputters out of you.

Jisung smiles, releasing a pent-up breath of relief. 

“You were… are… funny, and smart, and yeah a bit quiet but you still don’t let it stop you from defending yourself or someone else when something is wrong.  Remember when you told off that creep at the party?  The one who was bugging Felix?  You don’t take anyone’s shit and then you just move on quietly like it was nothing.  I was obsessed with you from the second we started talking.  Then I was a stupid horny pervert and opened my big stupid mouth and now you hate me.” 

“I’m still not sure I really get it,” you say, admittedly flustered at his admission.  You had no idea Jisung saw you that way.  The woman he’s describing does sound pretty amazing, and he sounds sincerely infatuated.   When your heart starts skipping beats again, it feels different than before.  “Explain,” you say. 

He slaps his thighs in a motion of surrender. 

“Yup,” he says.  “Okay.  Fine.  Cool.  I like when women boss me around.  I like when they are mean to me.  I like when they hurt me and make me cry.   It… it gets my dick hard, okay?  I love bitches.  I LOVE BITCHES—”

You reach out to slap a hand over his mouth, remembering it’s a motel in the middle of the night. 

Jisung’s shoulders jump and he laughs into your hand, clearly embarrassed as he remembers where he is.  You laugh in spite of yourself, lowering your hand. 

“Oops,” he says.

“Oops,” you reply. 

Oops, you misunderstood your eavesdropping. 

Oops, Jisung never hated you. 

Oops, you find yourself staring into his eyes for way too long. 

“So just to clarify,” you say.  “You’re into, like, female domination stuff, and you called me a bitch as the highest form of compliment in your crazy brain, and then you spent the next two years being as annoying as possible because…”

“I thought you were just, like, crazy edging me or something,” Jisung says, making you laugh helplessly into your hands.  He laughs too, even while looking a little pained.  “I did!  I was like shit, she’s so nasty, she’s really taking me for a fucking ride.  I would have kept doing this for the rest of our lives if this conversation didn’t happen.  I would’ve been at your wedding like damn, she’s really got me going this time—”

“You’re so stupid,” you say, pushing at his chest without any real animosity. 

“I know, I really am,” he says.  He draws an X over his chest.  “But cross my heart and hope to die, everything I have told you is the complete truth.  I’d tell you to slap me because you definitely deserve it but honestly, it would give me a boner and I don’t think either of us wants that since we’re stuck in the same bed all night.” 

He says it jokingly, of course.  But you can hear the twinge of flirtation and truth under his just kidding. 

And maybe you’re still on an adrenaline kick.  Maybe your emotions are right at the surface.  Maybe you hated him so much because deep down you liked him, and you hated that you liked him because of a misunderstanding. 

And maybe, just maybe, those big brown eyes have drawn you in from the second you first saw him. 

“Slap you,” you say, as if in deep contemplation.  “Slap you where?  Your face?” 

This clearly catches him off guard.  He opens his mouth and a garbled sound comes out.  He thumps a fist on his chest. 

“Uh, yeah,” he says.  “Sure.  Whatever, you know.  You know.” 

“Mhm.” You move so you are kneeling too, facing each other.  You watch as he swallows hard, the gulp going down his throat.  All the adrenaline you built up earlier is suffusing into the race of your bloodstream.  Heat simmers below the surface of your skin.  “And you like that?  Getting slapped when you’ve been bad?”

“Oh my god,” he says.  “Are you.. are we… is something happening right now?  Oh my god.  Hold on.”  He says that but then all he does is stand up and sit back down again, rekneeling in the exact same position.  “Right, okay,” he says.  “Slap away.”

You snort, rolling your eyes but smiling.  You lift your hand but he is staring at you so expectantly that it just feels weird, not sexy, and you laugh giddily with amusement. 

“Aww, come oooon,” he whines, but laughingly too.  “Don’t get shy.  You were so good at it.”

“I’ve had years of bitchy practice, I guess,” you say with a quirked eyebrow, making him grin.  You shake your head.  “I dunno.  Just.  Do something to earn a slap I guess.  It’s too weird to just smack you out of nowhere.” 

“Do something?” he asks.  “Uh, I dunno.  As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never done anything in my life to earn a slap.  I’m seriously the most charming and funny and perfect guy ever and I—” 

Your slap him across the face.  The sound startles you because it sounds harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.   

Jisung looks genuinely surprised.  His head turned with the impact of the slap, his jaw falling open.  He blinks himself back into focus and you are about to ask if he’s all right, then he looks at you in a way he has never looked at you before.  The desire and desperation of his gaze moves right through you, gathering hot in every intimate place. 

“Did you like that?” he asks, his voice a little gravelly as it drops low. 

“I don’t know,” you say softly.  You reach out to touch his chin, a delicate touch that makes him shiver.  You turn his face to look at the faint redness on his cheek.  “Can I try again to be sure?”

He nods and swallows again. 

You don’t ask for build-up this time.  You pull your hand back and bring it down sharply on his cheek. 

This time it makes him whimper.  It flushes you with heat. 

“Oh my god,” you say.  “What else?” 

“Uh, oh, fuck, um.”  He touches his cheek and sucks in a breath.  He pushes his hair only for it flop back in place.  “Um,” he says.  “Choking.  F-fingers?  Fingers in my mouth...  Um, haha, I can’t think.  Bondage?  Yeah.  Erm, denial.  Overstimulation.  Puuussy… yes, um, pussy.  On my face please.  Uhh… Punishment.  Pulling my hair… Oh, hello.” 

You take hold of his shoulders and push, guiding him to lay on his back.  He is already panting when you straddle him, his eyes wide when you lean down. 

“Do you still hate me?” he asks when you are millimetres away from his mouth.

You pretend to think about it.

“Hm,” you say with obvious theatricality, stealing a page from his book.  “Yeah.  I hate you so much.  You’re my worst enemy.  Sorry, baby.”

“That’s hot,” he says with a nervous little giggle.  “You’re hot.  You know I think—mmmf.”

You interrupt whatever long-winded joke was incoming.  He does not protest this interruption as it involves a kiss, a good kiss, a deep kiss, one that pushes his head into the plushness of his pillow, one that has him moaning into your mouth.   He lifts his hands to touch you, fingertips barely grazing your bare thighs when you seize his wrists.  You shove them into the bed, pinned on either side of his head.  He bucks under you, his mouth opening under your kiss.  You bite at his bottom lip and drag your teeth, making his hips move even more. 

You break away quickly and just as quickly slap him.  It knocks a surprised breath out of him, his eyes a bit watery when he looks up at you. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby,” you say.  “I’m just getting started.”

“Oh my god.” 

You try not to smile but Jisung makes it hard.  You feel flushed with excitement, hot with power and anticipation.  You squeeze his hips between your thighs and push the hem of his shirt up and over his chest.   He whimpers again but doesn’t move, his eyes closing when you hold down his wrists and duck your head. 

“Fuck, oh god,” he murmurs, a constant stream of mumbled expletives as your mouth runs over his chest, kissing and licking and biting, teasing him until he can’t help but buck his hips for friction.   When you feel him fully hard in his jeans you lean back, smirk, then climb off him.  “Oh god, you’re too good at this,” he says, keeping his hands where you left them and gazing at you with wanting eyes. 

You blow him a kiss and shimmy out of your shorts and underwear.  Thoughtlessly he swings a hand down to touch himself, squeezing his dick through his jeans and groaning. 

“Did I tell you that you could—” you start, but he puts his hand back beside his head before you can finish.  His smile is far too innocent.  “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you say. 

“Am I?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Shut up,” you reply, getting back on top of him.  “I still hate you.” 

“Oh god, yes,” he says.  His hips buck into the air as you scoot over his chest.  “More.” 

“I hate you,” you say, moving until your legs are on either side of his head.  “ I hate you so much, Han Jisung.  I’m going to ruin you.” 

“Fuck.” 

He already has his mouth open when you lower onto his face.  You grip the headboard and rock yourself over his tongue, back and forth until he finds your rhythm and takes over.  What he lacks in precision he compensates with eagerness, licking at you without any care for the mess it makes of him, wet and sloppy and hot as his tongue moves inside you then up and down your pussy, circling your clit, sucking, flicking, back and forth, around and around—

“Oh my god,” you say, looking down at where you can see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he works, as he moans, as he squeezes your thighs in his hands and drags his tongue all over you.   You grip the headboard tight when you come, throwing your head back and grinding down against him. 

You lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.   You shuffle back and sit on his abdomen so you can see him, his eyes wide and wet mouth open as he pants.  He licks his lips and murmurs please, please, please in a hoarse voice. 

“Please?” you repeat, a little out of breath as well. 

You swirl your fingers over his bare chest and fiddle with the t-shirt still bunched under his chin.  He moves his face wherever you push it, tipping his head back, tilting it to the side.  He goes cross-eyed when your fingers dance in front of him, touching his lips.  His mouth falls open and his eyes close when you slide two fingers inside his mouth.  

“Please what, Jisung?” you ask, slowly finger-fucking his mouth.  “What do you want?”

He can’t speak around your fingers so he just whines, digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs. 

“Oh,” you say.  Your giggle is filled with genuine delight, even while your voice is rough.  “I see.  You want to put your dick inside me, baby?  Hmm?  You wanna say you’re sorry and that you’ll be good and let me ride you?” 

“Good, so good,” he says, drooling around your fingers when you slide them out.   He swallows hard, choking on nothing, then nods his head.  “Please, please.   Yes.” 

You lean down and kiss his wet mouth, a chaste peck.  You rub the corner of his lips, smiling at his closed eyes and wrecked expression. 

“Okay,” you say.  “Get ready for me then.”  

You have a string of condoms in your luggage, always tucked in the pocket in case of emergency.  Emergencies like a snow storm trapping you in bed with your former worst enemy turned lover. 

When you get back to him, Jisung is laying there completely naked, flushed and stroking himself as he watches you.   He lets you take his hand off his dick, holds you obediently when you guide his hands to your waist.   He kisses you when you lean down, a hot and heavy kiss as you straddle him again.   It ends when you push him flat and sit back, already grinning because you know you are about to short-circuit his brain.

“Wanna see a trick?” you say, and proceed to put the condom on him with your mouth.   You laugh when you see his face after, his mouth hanging open as he blinks at you. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, but laughs a little. 

His head thunks back into the pillows when you guide him inside you.   You put your hands over his, holding them to your hips as you rock over him.   His chest lifts and falls and his eyes close as he concentrates on not rushing your pace.  He keeps holding your waist firmly when you slide your hands over his chest. 

“Look at me,” you say. 

He blinks his eyes open.  You smile.

“Good boy.” 

He makes a noise that sounds more pained than when you slapped him.  It lights up inside you like fire and you move faster, take him deeper.   You get a bit dizzy with how good it feels, his dick curving up to drive against the softest, most sensitive part of you, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm.  You rub yourself at the same time, looking down at him as he gasps and moans, as he holds your hips and fucks you back. 

You bring your hand to his neck and gently circle it, rubbing yourself harder when he whines with chest-deep desperation. 

“I—I’m gonna—oh god—” he says, squeezing your hips so tightly that you think it might bruise.  

It feels so good, his rough hands coupled with his dick hitting perfectly inside you.  Your whole body draws taut for its crest.   

“Don’t,” you say, laughing a little, not even to be mean but because it feels so good that you feel giddy.  You squeeze his throat and his hips get erratic under you.  “Not yet,” you say.  “Me first.”

“Oh my god,” he says, looking up at you with frantic eyes.  “I—I can’t—I’m gonna—”

“Jisung,” you say, squeezing his throat harder so he makes a choked-up sound that goes straight to your pussy.  “Are you gonna be good or bad?” 

“I’m—I’m—oh god.”

You stop touching yourself because you know he doesn’t stand a chance outlasting you.  You ride him through his orgasm, choking him as he spasms and moans and cries out.   His head lifts for a second, his eyes closed and brows furrowed, then he flops back down with an exhausted heave.  

His eyes open again, watery and huge. 

“Oh fuck,” he says, voice like gravel as you release his throat.  A deep breath shudders out of him.  “Oh… fuck,” he says, dreamily, smiling, then pouting.  “Oh! Fuck!” 

You giggle at him managing to say the same thing in three different voices. 

You slip your fingers into his hair and tug, yanking his head up.  He follows with a gasp. 

“I should hit you again for that,” you say. 

You slide off him, carefully.  He sucks in a ragged, tearful breath when you touch his dick to deal with the condom.  After, you rub your palm on the oversensitive head of it, making him grab at you and cry out.   It squeezes a tear out of him and you kiss it away. 

“Come on,” you say, grabbing him by the hair again.  You get off the bed and drag him to follow.  “I’m not done with you.” 

He is a little shaky and boneless from coming.  His footing is unsteady from the moment he touches the ground, moving with thoughtless obedience.  He thumps down heavily onto his knees.  When he sways, you straighten him.  He blinks up at you, on his knees, already nodding. 

You put your leg over his shoulder and draw him in.  For the second time, he gets you off with his mouth, his hands on your ass and his face buried in your pussy.  You sink your fingers in his hair and let it wash over you, humming happily when you are finished. 

You lower your leg off his shoulder.  Jisung slumps backwards, leaning against the bed and breathing hard, his face and hair a mess. 

“Wow,” he says.  He looks up at you.  “That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You laugh, feeling hot and flushed but satisfied.  

“Me too,” you say, making him smile. 

You help him back into the bed because his legs seem a little numb.  You lay beside him, rubbing the inside of his thigh as he kisses all over your face.   You giggle then fall into a proper kiss, winding around each other affectionately.  

“I’m gonna send Chan a gift basket,” Jisung says, making you snort.  “I am!  Thank you for having a family emergency, your timing couldn’t be better.”

You tip your head and look at him with confusion.

“Family emergency?” you say.  “He told me he was working?”

“Working?”  Jisung furrows his brow.  “Huh?  We don’t have anything coming up at work.  He phoned me from the road and said he was heading out to visit family?  He said he wouldn’t be back all week-end.” 

“He told me he was stuck working and would see me tomorrow,” you say, your eyes narrowing as you slowly put two-and-two and together.  

“I didn’t even know why he was asking me and not Changbin or something,” Jisung continues to muse aloud.  “He said you were wanting to talk to me, though, so I figured—”

“I never said that!  I mean, I’m glad we did but…”  You sit up, glaring at the wall.

Jisung bursts into laughter, covering his mouth as he looks at you. 

“Did Chan hustle us?” he asks. 

“He threw us together in a snow storm so we’d be forced to reconcile!”

“I don’t think Chan can control the weather—”

“Oh, he definitely can.  I bet he delayed the bridge himself—”

Jisung laughs some more, kissing the side of your face lovingly while you continue to glare contemptuously at the wall. 

“Well,” you say, looking at him.  You kiss him sweetly on the nose and he smiles at you.  “That’s fine,” you say.  “A vacancy for my sworn enemy just opened up.  Looks like I found a replacement.” 

“I’m good with that,” Jisung says.  “But… you’re not allowed to enemy-fuck him like that.  That’s just for me, right?” 

You settle in his arms, forgetting about Chan for the time being, forgetting to glare, forgetting about everything that happened before tonight.  You smile at him, brushing a bit of hair off his sweaty forehead.  He is still flushed and beautiful, his hopeful eyes locked on yours.  He smiles back. 

“Yeah,” you say.  “It’s only ever been just you, Jisung.” 

He visibly melts, his laugh a breathless thing.  He leans in and kisses you and you hold his face, kissing him back.  You can feel him smiling against your lips and you smile too. 

[ponderingmoonlight]

Realizing your true feelings for Gojo after he stands up for you

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...

Warnings: literally wrote this in my break at work so don't come for me lol, fluff fluff fluff, reader getting insulted

Oh, how much you hate the way basically everyone looks at you. Well, not technically you, to be exact. It’s rather the person walking next to you who drowns in attention every time you are forced to go out together.

Not that you’d understand the hype. Gojo Satoru, the blessed one, the honored one, the strongest fucking jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime.

“What’s wrong? Feeling left out, (y/n)?”

And probably the biggest pain in your ass.

“You’re such a whore for attention it hurts”, you bite back while rolling your shaded eyes the way you always do the second he opens his mouth.

His laughter vibrates through your body, annoys you to the core. When will this madness finally come to an end? When will they finally begin to send you onto missions with Geto, Yu or fuck, even Nanami? Why on earth does it always have to be him?

“Caught me there I guess. But it’s not my fault that I’m easy to look at. Not like you.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath in and out, to calm your tingling nerves and stop your fist from twitching. That fucker has some really good nerves. Only the sound of his name next to you simply drives you insane, let alone his stupid comments and oh too annoying voice. Is there really anything good on Gojo Satoru, something you might like?

“I hate you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Aww, don’t be like that, (y/n). We both know that isn’t true”, he purrs, ready to grab your shoulder when you yank away.

“I’ll break your fucking nose if you touch me, jerk.”

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

“I’ve never seen you around here.”

The sudden soft female voice that interrupts your rambling catches you off guard.

There she stands, an undeniable beauty with curves in just the right places and blonde hair that looks like strands of gold. The bluest eyes, the most breathtaking smile. And of course, her gaze is fixated on Satoru.

“That’s because it’s my first time here. After all, my eyes definitely wouldn’t have miss someone like you”, he replies with that cheeky grin you know oh too well, the cheeky grin that makes your blood boil in an instant.

Really? This is probably the worst time to start a flirty conversation. You were sent here to detect a special grade curse, to save this damned city from getting scorched. But he? He has nothing but her blonde hair and delicate smile in his pea brain

“Don’t you think that this isn’t the right time for a conversation like that?”, you mumble irritably.

“We’re just having a little talk. Who are you, his girlfriend? I highly doubt that. A girl like you would never have a chance with a guy like him.”

You have to blink a few times when her sugary voice spits at you with pure venom.

It shouldn’t bother you. Why would it? Gojo is the last person walking on earth you’d be in a relationship with, the last person who would ever want you. You, with your average looks. You, being a grade 2 sorcerer who has nothing special to offer. You, who never actually allowed herself to like Gojo. You, who is nothing compared to the woman standing in front of you.

Then why do her words feel like a knife in your heart? Why are you standing there like an idiot, sunglasses barely covering your pain? Why does his presence next to you suddenly sting so badly?

“Pretty disgusting words for someone with that face. Do you really think the world belongs to you because you look good? Let me tell you something: Apart from being hot, (y/n) is also unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic. Someone as simple-minded as you should better avoid me. Now get lost, will you?”

What.

On.

Earth.

Did Gojo Satoru really stand up for you? No, did Gojo Satoru just call you “hot, unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic”? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute. A cruel storm of butterflies almost causes your guts to turn, makes you see stars. Are you dreaming, maybe? This can’t be reality. It’s impossible that-

“Hey, are you okay? I hope you don’t trust that stinky girl”, Gojo speaks out softly.

You can sense the way he eyes you up and down through his sunglasses, the little pout on his face revealing that he’s truly worried. Is that really the boy who teases you until you lose your mind completely? God, how much you hate him, how much you want to punch him into his stupid perfect face.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. But what is that little part of your brain that almost dies in excitement, then? What are those strange butterflies that never invaded you since you joined Jujutsu High?

“Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes dart upwards, get greeted by his bright blue orbs that look down at you in a seriousness you’ve never seen before.

“Tell me you don’t believe her.”

“She said nothing I don’t already know”, you reply dryly.

He shakes his head, still staring down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Who is this guy? What are those feelings? Why aren’t you able to look away like you always do? Gojo is only playing with you the way he does constantly. His bright blue orbs aren’t to be trust and you know it.

“I would choose you a hundred times before someone like her, (y/n).”

It’s like all life drained from your body, blank eyes staring at him in shock. This really has to be a dream. When was the last time Gojo has been nice to you? Probably never. He constantly teases you, drives you inane, makes you mad, makes you regret your decision to come to Jujutsu High and also…

Makes you feel save, makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel affection.

Affection? For Gojo?

“I…I have to go”, you blurt out so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet while trying to haste away.

He’s only picking on you like he always does. Gojo Satoru, considering a romantic relationship with you? You huff out loud, cheeks redden by the sheer thought of the dumb look you gave him. You aren’t better than the girls you despise so much, after all. He truly managed to wrap you around his finger like everyone else, even though you told yourself over and over to hate him.

What a pathetic jerk you are.

You spin around so fast you almost fall over, only to get caught in a pair of strong arms.

“You don’t believe me”, Gojo notes while keeping you in place.

“Why would I?”, you press out, not daring to look at him once again.

You need to get away from this cursed place, away from the honored one. It’s time to go back to normal, back to hating him with all your heart. Because this is all he is, right? Gojo Satoru is nothing but your rival…right?

“Maybe I can convince you with something else.”

Just when you’re about to protest and freeing yourself, he pulls you even closer and presses his lips against yours.

Time stands still, the lenses of your sunglasses pressing so violently against Gojo’s skin that they crack.

This.

This is the stuff your wildest dreams are made of, a dream you didn’t even allow yourself to think about. If there’s one thing that always seemed impossible to you, it was this. Why would you ever be more than Gojo’s rival, what is the purpose of seeing anything apart from a pain in the ass in him?

This right here.

Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around him as well, pull him closer and closer, take in his delicious scent. The sheer feeling of his lips collapsing into yours leaves you breathless, makes your lungs ache in the urge for air.

Until he lets go of you while panting hard, now glowing eyes fixated on you so intimidating that you feel yourself blushing.

“Believing me know?”

“You stained my sunglasses”, you breathe out mindlessly.

Tags:

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@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa

[dp-dc-rantler]

Ok, hear me out:

Batman, after the Anti-Ecto-Acts got exposed: We need to correlate a meeting with The Phantom. His kind has been under attack for so long that it's reasonable to perceive him as a threat.

Superman, pulling up a picture of Phantom with a spray bottle in hand: We knew you'd say that so here his fil-

Batman, standing a bit straighter and appears more alert: Hn.

Green Arrow, spotting the tall tail signs of a Bat Adoption Mode on the rise: Hey, no, you have enough kids-

Flash, with confusion at it's highest: Phantom has white hair and green eyes, how is the Adoption Mode being triggered? This one's not even alive-

Batman: That is the same as my second son, your point?

Superman, readying the spray bottle: Rao, here we go again...

Wonder Woman, stepping in with knowledge Batman didn't know: His main enemy seems to be the ghost of a rich, powerful man. I doubt he would take kindly to you trying to adopt him.

Batman, still eyeing the picture of Phantom: My second eldest son was a street rat that tried to stab my civilian identity on multiple occasions, your point?

Green Lantern, trying to intervene: He has a two clones of himself that are usually with him, are you sure-

Batman, hand inching towards his com: My youngest son has had well over 4,000 clones of him made to kill him, one of which succeeded. I can handle taking the on, or in if needed.

Captain Marvel, trying to stick up for the kid: He's probably older than he looks, and he's been taking care of himself for quite some time, I don't think he'd like someone to swoop in an adopt him after all this time.

Batman, hand on com, instructing Alfred to get the guy: ........So you're saying that I need to lure him in-

Superman with the spray bottle: Hey, no, no. Take down the bad government hunting him first, no adoption papers okay? Put them away.

Batman, slinking away to a computer to deal with the government so that he can inherit another kid, his cowl now very wet: Hn.

Aquaman, whispering to the one standing closest to him:........ Should I inform him that there is a civilian who's parents are responsible for bringing the ghost into this realm through mad scientist means?

Hawkwoman: Does this child have black hair or blue eyes?

Aquaman: Well, yes-

Hawkman: Than no.

Martian Manhunter, who had encountered Phantom by chance and was subjugated to one hell of a fan rambling: Hm. Would the Batman be willing to consider Co-parenting?....

Jon Constantine, who walked in and had been to stunned that they were talking about an infinite realm being: Bloody hell, your supposed to be the reasonable one-

Martian Manhunter, glancing at his dedicated cupboard of Oreos:..... I am afraid you will have to reevaluate that.

[jaysgirlx]

Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.

Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.

Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.

Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.

Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.

Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.

Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.

Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…

Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.

Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.

Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"

[feltit-wroteit]

The Nanny Diaries

Art Donaldson x Fem!Reader x Tashi Duncan/Donaldson

The nanny contract you had signed had never mentioned you falling in love with the parents of the child nor them reciprocating the feeling. But, here you were...

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her 20s), nanny!reader, hurt/comfort, poly!relationship, body guard doing his job "badly", intrusive fans

*Yes the title is inspired by a movie♡*

"Lily... Lily, wake up sunshine." You played gently in her hair and whispered ever so slightly in order for her to not wake up in a bad mood. Today was a big day. You were finally going to bring Lily watch her father's match. Something that you had always waited for. Tashi was also excited but was too worried about Art actually performing to get over the moon about it. Art was more than excited to show his little girl how good he could play. It was a motivation that was needed for him.

You had seen him play once or twice before becoming the nanny to his child. That's how you had met them both. Somehow, hanging out in a place full of rich married couples could lend you a well paid job... You had accepted their offer and were now travelling all around the country with the couple and their amazing daughter Lily. She was a sweetheart and loved you to death. While taking care of her, you had fallen in love with her parents. Let's admit it, they were so kind to you and extremely attractive.

Nothing had prepared you for that one night where you were leaving for a week to go see your family for Christmas.

They had let you have a week off and you were packing your things in the bedroom that was reserved to you in their mansion. Suddenly, they both came in without knocking. "Y/n?" You turned around slightly surprised that they were both in your room and smiled at them. "You scared me." You giggled. They smiled and motioned for you to sit down. "Have a seat." You were confused. Why did they want to talk to you right now? "Is something wrong? Did Lily wake up? I can go put her back to sleep if you both want..." They got closer to your bed on which you were sitting and shook their head no at the same time. They were so captivating.

"No... We wanted to ask you something. But, we don't want it to change anything about this nanny contract. Lily values you too much for that." Tashi said while holding Art's hand. "Of course, ask me anything. Did I do something wrong?" You asked them, starting to worry. "No. God, everything except that, Y/n!" Art exclaimed. You looked in his eyes and was reassured by his sincere gaze.

"Do you know what polyamory is?" Tashi asked you and sat down to your right. Your eyes grew wider. "Yeah..." you felt exposed somehow. What were they thinking? "Do you like us Y/n?" Art then asked while sitting to your left. You nodded shyly. "Use your words, sweetie." Tashi said and gently rubbed your thigh. "Yeah." "Both of us? You like both of us the same?" Art started to rub your left thigh and it was all overwhelming. You got up and away from them. "Yes and I'm sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me. You two are married it's wrong of me. I'll be more subtle I swear! Just... please don't fire me. I need this job." They were now looking at you attentively while you shed some tears. "Baby... don't appologize. We're not mad, we just wanted to make sure. Because, we like you too..." Art admitted and got up closer to you to offer you comfort.

"What?" You were now very much confused and mixed up. "Y/n, we took some time to talk and we came to the realization that we want to try something out with you. We would be happy to add a beautiful and amazing woman to our relationship. If you want to try it out that is?" Tashi elaborated and you once again nodded to which the couple laughed softly. "Uh, yeah my words... sorry. Of course I would. Are you sure? When will we start? Does something like this even start?-" You were rambling again until Art put his hand on your right forearm. "When you come back from your Christmas break, we would love to take you on a date. Would you want that, sweetie?" Tashi offered and you smiled brightly. "I would love that." You aknowledged and they both wrapped you in their arms at the same time. "It's a date then." Art pointed out and kissed your cheek. You blushed and hummed yes.

The rest was history.

You had started dating them 1 year ago but it was all a secret to the media. People wouldn't understand and you were not pressed for them to do so. You were happy being their lover and being apart of this incredible family officially.

Lily had finally woken up and smiled at you. "Y/n/n?" Lily knew you were dating her parents. When she learned it five months after you started dating, she wrapped you in her arms and said thank you to her parents which made the three of you tear up. "Yes, Lil?" You took her in your arms and brought her to the bathroom to start the day. "Is dad going to win?" She asked you with worried little eyebrows while you made her sat on the sink counter. "I don't know, Lily. It never is a sure game. Especially the final match." She frowned while you handed her her toothbrush and motioned for her to brush her teeth. "But... I personnaly think he will beat the other guy. But don't say to anyone I said that. Okay?" You whispered and she finally smiled. She nodded excitedly and put her little hand on her heart. "Pinky swear?" You asked her while extending your pinky to her. She lifted hers up and you crossed them together.

When she was done in the bathroom, you helped her get dressed and got dressed yourself. Tashi had bought Lily a cute little, white tennis dress from Tommy Hilfiger that matched hers. You were wearing a pair of beige trousers, a white blouse and some loafers from Tommy too that you had picked up in the store with the help of your two partners. You took Lily's hand and left the hotel to drive up to the tournament.

When you both arrived there, there was no place to walk, litterally. Everybody was screaming and fighting their way to maybe have an autograph of the players. You took Lily in your arms and held her closely to make sure she didn't get hurt. "Y/n/n?" The girl asked for you in a tiny voice. "Yes, Lil?" You rubbed her back with your hand and tried to push through the crowd to get where the security was. "I'm scared..." Lily announced, which broke you're heart. "It's okay sweetie. I've got you, I promise. We're almost there."

When you got to the security you realized that you had forgotten your VIP pass and cursed to yourself making sure Lily didn't hear you. "Hey, I'm sorry?" You said to a guard that had his back facing you. He turned around and looked at you unimpressed. "Hi, sorry. I am VIP but I forgot my pass. Do you maybe have a list with names? I'm on there, I swear." You tried to explain but he was unfazed. "No pass, no entry." He went to turn around but you pleaded. "Please, I am with a child here..." "And what does that do? We've had this a lot. Please just wait like everyone else and don't make me use force." He answered and you groaned after Lily sobbed harder as the fans shouted more. "I'm begging of you, this child is about to have a panic attack. You do not want Art Donaldson and Tashi Donaldson's daughter having a panic attack because of you, trust me."

The guard looked you up and down and sighed. "Call them." He told you coldly. "What?" You asked bewildered. "If they asnwer, then they can prove that they know you. Otherwise..." He tsked at you and you pulled out your phone with difficulty having Lily in your arms. The phone rang and rang and Tashi didn't pick up. Fuck... "You can wait like the rest." Th bodyguard turned around after seeing your exposed face. "No wait-" You were about to make another compromise when you realised it was no use. He wasn't going to listen to you anymore.

That's when you heard it. A fan... "Omg look! That's the Donaldson's daughter!" The girl shreaked and pointed towards Lily in your arms. Then, a plethora of fans made their way towards you two and you held Lily closer. "Can we get a picture?" One boy asked to which you shook your head. "No, I'm sorry but that's a no." The fan's face changed quickly and he frowned. "Who even are you?" He asked and a lot of fans around agreed to his question and you knew it would turn bad.

"Please, I'm her Nanny... She is very anxious right now, it's not the time to cause a scene." You tried to reason with them only for a girl to scream from your left. Lily' sobs were louder and you rubbed her back soothingly trying to keep yourself calm too. "She's kidnapping the Donaldson's daughter! Stop her!" Your eyes blew wide as they all approached you dangerously with death glares.

"Y/n?" A tiny voice whispered afraid in your ears and a tear fell down your face. "I'm so sorry, Lily" While they got closer, you closed your eyes and kept Lily close in your arms.

"Get the fuck away from them!" You heard a familiar voice thunder from behind you. You didn't dare open your eyes afraid you had been dreaming it. You heard footsteps gather away from you and you finally opened your eyes. The fans had gotten away and were looking behind you with scared eyes. You turned around and were met with two sets of eyes. Art and Tashi. You had been right. It had been Tashi ordering them away. They saw your tear streaked face and hurried closer to you.

When Tashi had returned your call from earlier only for it to go to voicemail, she decided that she would come find you. Art had tagged along since his match was only in an hour.

"Y/n?" Art called you while looking at you worried. "Come on let's go..." He whispered when he put his hand on your back. Tashi got closer too and analysed you and her daughter. "Take Lily from my arms, please..." Your voice sounded weak to them and they looked at you turn by turn. Art had a worried expression on his face and Tashi looked more angry. Art took Lily in his left arm and put his right hand on the small of your back from your left. Tashi pur her left hand on top of his and guided you towards the same guard line as before. "Did you try to get through?" She softened her tone for you. You nodded and sighed. "But I forgot my pass at the hotel. I'm so sorry. It's my fault and-" You were explaining when she rubbed your back to reassure you. "Did you try to explain to a guard your situation?" You nodded once more and her jaw ticked. "Okay... let's get you two safe for now." Art proposed when he saw how pissed his wife was.

He lead you four to his locker room and as soon as you were behind closed doors, you broke down in full tears from it all. Art sat down with Lily in his arms that was now asleep from exhaustion from crying so much and Tashi was comforting you. "I'm sorry. I thought I could keep her safe. She could've been hurt." You hiccuped while looking at Lily and sobbing harder. "But she didn't because of you sweetie." Art said and locked eyes with you. You could sense he was getting mad. He had every right to be. Who would forget such an important thing like a pass? "Don't do this. Don't stay in your head... Talk to us?" Tashi asked of you when she started to notice you overthinking. "I know you're both mad at me. I would be too! I put Lily in danger-" Art cut you off at that. "Wow, wow, wow... we're not mad at you!" He was quick to explain.

You now had a confused look and Tashi kissed your lips quickly. "You thought we were mad at you, baby?" You nodded and she giggled to lighten the mood. "Oh god no! We're mad at the stupid guard and crazy fans. Come here!" She opened her arms and you sighed in relief. "Okay now, let's all relax a little before my match and then we can head to the field and have a great time. Yeah?" Art said while rubbing Lily's back and smiling at the two of you. You nodded and sat down with Tashi in front of him. She held you closely while you steadied your breathing.

The match had went well. Lily had woken up and was smiling from ear to ear while her dad made points. It was funny seeing her little frown, looking like her mom's, when the other player made his points. In the end, Art had won and you three cheered from the sideline while he was taking his winning pictures.

That night, at the hotel, Tashi put Lily to bed while you were cuddling with Art in yours. He was peppering mindless kisses all across your forehead and whispering sweet nothings. "I love you, Y/n/n. You know that we love you right? Today I got scared. I was mad, not because of you, but because I didn't know how to help you see that it wasn't your fault. I could never be mad at you, sweetie." He explained while locking his gaze with yours. "I know... I love you more though." You tried to admit while Tashi entered the room in her black babydoll. "Now, what has you lying like that?" She smiled mischeviously at you and got on the bed behind you.

This had always been how you all slept. You in the middle, Art to your left and Tashi to your right. Of course, sometimes that arrangement changed... But primarily, that was the one. "I'm not lying." You said with a smile yourself while getting on your knees to face them easily on the bed. "No... I think you're a little liar." Art said while sitting up and putting his hand on your right knee. He looked at you with desire and your mouth opened slightly. "Don't you think so too, Babe?" He asked Tashi who was also sitting up now and held your left knee. "Oh I think she is..."

Art got closer to your face and kissed your lips harshly. He held the back of your neck with his free hand and Tashi caressed your upper left leg while looking at the both of you. "We don't like liars..." She whispered in your ear and you shivered.

What had you done?

[kinopio-writes]

Hello! Could you write platonic Dad!Adam headcanons? Thank you,

A/N: Lol. Don’t expect too much out of this guy because…it’s Adam. Heavily focused on him rather than the reader, sorry. Also, I might have gone a little overboard with this one because, uh, this was supposed to be only headcanons as you said, and the not-requested ‘drabble’ ended up being a few scenarios with a one-on-one convo with Adam and Sera at the end. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it, btw. Enjoy.

Holy sh!t I reread your request again and I don’t know if you meant that the reader is supposed to be the child or fuuuuuuuu—tell me if that’s not what you wanted, I had fun writing this nonetheless.

Words: 727 (not including the bullet points, edited)

Warnings: Very vulgar language, Sex is mentioned, Adam being Adam

———

How Adam would be as a Father (Reader is the child)

• first things first, the only way I can see Adam become a dad was because he accidentally impregnated a chick when she fucking swore that, oh, no, Adam, I’m on birth control. Oh, don’t worry, Adam, you don’t have to finish in my mouth. Oh, no need, Adam, I’ve got it covered. Oh, it’s okay, Adam—yes, this is Adam mocking her

• so imagine his surprise when he found a fucking child at his doorstep crying like a little bitch

• “What the fuck?” was his first reaction

• he’d find a note that said something-something about oh who gives a fuck about her and her sob story about having to leave the child in his care?

• what mattered was—“THAT FUCKING BITCH LIED TO ME!”

• after that whole ordeal, he would sit in his gigantic ass living room, slumping on his couch with arms crossed and grumbling complaints as if he was the child

• the first few weeks he would really just let someone else take care of the kid

• Lute would be the caretaker most of the time since she’s around Adam a lot

• the problem was that she’s an exterminator

• her purpose was to kill sinners and she certainly didn’t have babysitting on her list of skills

• so eventually, the responsibilities would fall back on Adam

• of course, he had attempted to get in contact with the woman

• he came back with nothing

• wait, nothing? Holy shit, he left the baby—

• and, if you’re wondering, I don’t think Heaven has adoption centers or whatnot because everyone is responsible when they’re thinking of having a child

• but, hey, how hard would looking after a child would be?

• probably accidentally dropped the kid once before

• will get mad that he can’t do his guitar solos because they would start to cry even louder

• has probably nearly suffocated it by leaving a pillow in their crib

• doesn’t know how to hold it properly

• eventually got it right by observing some of Heaven’s residents

• thinks he’s the best dad because of it

• speaking of residents, they most likely don’t know that the first man has a child

• dude, you really think he’d be caught dead with a kid?

• nuh-uh

• sometimes forgets he has a kid

• have left it in his—I headcanon—condominium completely unattended sometimes

• so, uh, yeah…not looking good for Adam here

let’s get on with the scenarios, shall we?

———

Adam covered his ears with his silk pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of that brat’s whining.

“Ugh! Shut up, Shut up!” Of course, it didn’t shut up.

He banged his head on the pillow repeatedly, swearing he was going to fucking throw this fucking child off the fuCKING BALCONY IF IT DOESN’T SHUT UP—

He had enough and went over to the crib in the corner of his bedroom, snarling. “Y’know, since your mommy was such a quiet whore you’d expect the brat to act the same. She should’ve been honored that she even got my dick. Mine. And this is how she fucking repays me?” The child in question looked up at their father, their cries coming to an eventual stop as he rambled on and on. “Finally.”

The moment he left their sight, however, they started to cry once more.

“OH MY GOD—”

———

Adam arrived home tired as shit balls.

“Not fucking now, bitch,” he dismissed when they reached for him from their place in the crib as he flopped himself on his king-sized bed. At least it wasn’t crying. Rather, it was babbling and flailing its hands and feet. While it was a nice change, it was still annoying to listen to.

Eventually, he decided to shut it up and lazily dragged himself over to the crib, picking it up in his hands and setting it near his shoulder.

“Ugh, there there. Or whatever.” He idly patted the child’s back, plopping back on his bed.

Surprisingly, the kid soon fell asleep without further complaints, nuzzling into their father’s comfortable robe.

Ugh, rude. It fell asleep before he could bitch about his day as he usually did. Instead, he grumbled his own day to himself, his eyelids growing heavy as time passed by.

Adam later dozed off with the baby in his arms, snoring loudly as his wings wrapped around him and the child in his seldom peaceful slumber.

———

The living room was dark. Heaven’s natural light poured through his open windows and the TV played a movie that was most definitely not suited for young audiences. At least it wasn’t anything sexual. Heaven forbid.

In the midst of the oddly serene environment that is Adam’s residence, holy light flashed from beside his couch and the tall figure of Sera appeared. Adam instantly turned the TV off.

“Adam, pardon my intrusion. You still haven’t submitted your forms and they were due yesterday—” Sera interrupted herself when her eyes landed on the baby next to the first man.

“Sera, what gives? Can’t you see I’m busy? Where’s your sense of privacy? Jeez.”

“Adam, is that a child?” she asked rather accusatorily.

“Ugh, yeah, so what?”

“I didn’t think you would—where’s your wife?” She brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, her brows furrowed. “Um, I figured that after Lilith and Eve—”

“Pshh, you’d think this guy would settle down for anyone? Puh-lease. Imagine a world where you can’t fuck the original dick. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream of.” Adam averted his gaze as his shoulders tensed up.

“So you care for this child alone? By yourself?” Sera looked more worried than ever, which Adam instantly latched on to.

“Are you doubting me? I started humankind—I know what I’m doing.” He settled his arms on the headrest, legs raising to rest on the coffee table as he gave a lazy shrug.

“How long have you kept this child?”

“What’s with all the questions? Uh, I dunno, more than two months, I guess?”

“What is its name?”

“Oh, uh…” Shit. He didn’t really think about that. He only kept calling it ‘kid’ or ‘brat’. “Adam Jr!” he blurted out the first thing that went through his mind. “Yeah, that’s right, everyone would immediately know that this kid is from me, Adam.”

Sera only narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’m surprised you managed to keep this hidden from me. The child—”

“Adam Jr.”

“…Adam Jr. seems to be doing fine in your hands. But raising a child is no easy feat, Adam.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes momentarily. “We will have our discussion regarding your work tomorrow. Have a good night.”

As the seraphim was engulfed with holy light once more, vanishing as quickly as she came, Adam was left to think if the hassle was really worth this brat.

[inkbitten]

I THINK TARTAGLIA IS A BOYFRIEND THAT WORRIES..

(ramble. warning: kind of yandere taru?)

ajax has faced the worst of the worst from an early age. he knows that all it takes is one slip to land in shit. even if you are an entirely capable person, he still frets over you.

if you leave the house, he makes sure he knows where you're leaving, and what time you're going to be back. if you're even ten minutes late, you find him pacing at the doorway as soon as you walk inside. his dull blues soften as he rushes forward to wrap his arms around you. you're bombarded with questions— what happened? did you go somewhere else? was someone bothering you? you think he's a hypocrite. he leaves for months on end for his harbinger duties, yet panics when you aren't home right when you said that you were going to be?

his worried are eased when you pull away to procure a little container of cookies that you had purchased from a street vendor. you had seen a newer shop, and just wanted to give the older woman running it your support by getting some baked goods to share with your beloved.

"..so, do you want to see if these cookies taste like shit?"

surprising him is impossible. when you forget to tell him where you're going, he always manages to find you. if you're at the marketplace, he approaches you from behind to wrap his arms around you. and you would be mad if you didn't feel the brief trembling in his stature. so much for buying him a gift for his upcoming birthday.

"..tartaglia," you scoldingly begin. "go home."

"why?" he asks, almost unable to conceal the upset in his tone. are you angry with him? do you hate him now? d—

"because, i'm trying to buy you something!" you exclaim, turning around in his embrace to lightly plant your palms against his chest. "so, go home. if you spoil the surprise, we're so over!"

"y— yes!" there comes back that timid stammer from childhood. he always thought it was ironic to be dubbed tartaglia. 'the stutterer,' in translation. "i'll make.. dinner while you're gone."

with a chaste kiss pressed to your cheek, he hurries home. ..but, not without assigning a fatui agent to ensure your safety. he can't help but worry, you know!

[just-some-user-hunny]

I hope Isekai!reader is firmly team green I’m sick and tired of characters born to Alicent being team black 💀 also I need to see her getting along with her platonic yandere FULL-blooded siblings instead of Rhaenyra (I beg you I don’t want to see her around here 😔🙏)

I think it'd be fun to write for team Green, I adore Helaena and Aemond's character, they're so interesting :) I really want to do some stuff on Alicent too, there's so much to get and it'd be fun to navigate what kind of relationship the reader would have with her in a yandere situation. She's really always done what she's been told to do, always following orders, even at her own expense. She's given and given, and although I think she is a questionable mother, I do feel so sad for her because she could have had such a wonderful life if it weren't for the people around her :( for once she has something- someone of her own.

I always see the comparisons of her children representing parts of herself, and for a yandere Alicent I feel that reader would represent the part of herself that dreamed for more outside the confinements of her life. You'd be her joy for life, and she's obsessively possessive over you. Perhaps since you'd be isekaid, you'd have a deeper understanding of her character as a whole. It's like you know her better than herself, and for once she feels seen. Not the heir creator, not the powerless queen, not the screeching mad woman. Just her. Just Alicent. You'd be her precious one, the only person who can see deep into her very soul and not recoil in disgust- only understanding. She needs that. She needs you.

Having her three children as your siblings as well would be another trial of its own. Still, going on the isikai!reader perspective, you've seen them grow up through your screen. Seen the challenges they've endured, so they'd also feel that attachment to you through your empathy and understanding.

Aegon would love you because you listen to him. He's seldom met with your eye rolls or enraged scoldings, and he deeply appreciates that. With you, he can smile. Genuinely smile. The one that makes his eyes crinkle like crescent moons and his smile lines to wrinkle like the ripplings in a still pond. He practically glows in your presence, like the sun.

Heleana, the sweet girl, often feels that you are the only one who can see her. You listen to her with full attention to her dreamy mutters and ramblings, never once raising a brow or finding her odd. You indulge in her fascination with bugs, and may even join her in collecting them out in the garden together. You two would be especially close, as she can't say she has many close friends like you, the person she can happily call her sibling. She is different, and you embrace that. Embrace her, and that's all she could ask from whilst in a family where she is often ignored.

And Aemond? Oh he is an interesting specimen. He's riddled with loneliness and lack of care, the added fire of his rage and cunning wit creating a frightening combination. He'd be extremely protective over you, often shielding you from harm and consoling you if anything upsets you. He's a little different, because although he takes as much affection and care as he can get from you like his siblings and mother, he also enjoys giving it back tenfold. Taking you out riding under his supervision, joining you in the gardens to read, having you watch him train. Your other family members would most likely keep you locked up tight in the castle to keep you as safe as possible, but he wants to give you at least some taste of freedom. As long as you are kept in his line of sight, of course :)

I may write more on isekai!reader since it's a fun concept, and delve into some more writing on team green. I adore Rhaenyra and team black, but both have plenty to explore and pick apart :)