#that gets messed around with but he has basically nothing else. he still has at least got ''intense skill'' as an excuse for his presence

[yourbasicqueerie]

The Goddess Who Promises Endless Apologies Of Paradise (fosca x reader)

꩜ Summary:

Basically the plot of Passion but in which Fosca is acc appreciated and seen for the wonderful, hurt, tortured, beautiful woman she is. Gender bent in the sense that the reader is called georgia morandi.

꩜ Notes:

So….i watched passion and was mentally tortured by this godamned apology for godly writing (fuck you Steven sondheim and your bigger than life characters, if you where a woman I would have burned you at the stake for having such an amazing understanding of feelings, but since ur not ill suffice by kicking the doors of heaven and screaming at ur face) until I wrote this. I have a few chapters done, but idk how its going to end (IF I end this), so….join me for this ride! I made a playlist for fosca! U can find it here

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You arrive alone.

The coach deposits you at the gate of the military outpost like an afterthought, mud splashing the hem of your dark skirts. You thank the driver—reflex more than sincerity—and step out onto unfamiliar soil.

 The wind here is rawer than in Milan, and the trees stand brittle and still, as if even the land is holding its breath.

A soldier escorts you through the gate and up the path toward the estate—a large, aging villa that has known better decades. You pull your coat tighter. A place like this feels less like a new post and more like an exile.

Inside, Colonel Ricci awaits you.

“You must be Signorina Giorgia,” he says, his voice clipped and proper.

You nod. “Yes, Colonel. Giorgia Morandi.”

He takes your gloved hand with practiced politeness. “I trust your journey was uneventful?”

You offer a neutral smile. “Long.”

He chuckles—thinly. “All roads here are long. But we’re glad to have you, especially for the work ahead. Our records are a mess.”

And that’s why you’re here, at least officially: to assist with administrative duties, sorting through months of disorganized military correspondence, budgets, transfers. On paper, it’s a bureaucrat’s post. In truth, you know you were chosen not only for your skills, but your gender—perhaps the Colonel believes that the presence of a woman in such a sterile place might be… soothing. You’re not flattered.

As you follow him through the hall, he says, “You’ll find the soldiers here rough around the edges. But harmless, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

He doesn’t answer.

You are shown to a modest room upstairs. The shutters creak when you touch them. There is no mirror.

You eat your first dinner in the mess hall with a cluster of officers. The table is loud with male voices—laughter, teasing, offhand remarks about Milanese women. You let most of it wash over you, your posture straight, your expression unreadable. You’ve dealt with worse.

Someone asks why your husband didn’t accompany you.

“I came here to work,” you say, evenly. “Not to bring a chaperone.”

It’s true. You left him in Milan to tend to the family business. You didn’t kiss him goodbye. Your marriage is lavender at best—pleasant in social function, barren of intimacy. He doesn’t love you, and you don’t love him. You both prefer it that way.

Still, your voice catches slightly when you say the word “husband,” and you scold yourself for it. You’ve lived your life with grace, with pragmatism. There’s no use craving what you were never meant to have.

Just when you were trying to pry off an overly drunk official—

A scream.

It’s not a cry or a shriek, not something childish or sudden. It is a full-body, soul-wracking scream, raw and unfiltered, tearing through the air from somewhere above.

Your spoon clatters into your bowl.

No one else even flinches.

You look around, stunned, your pulse racing. “Was that—?”

The Colonel does not look up from his soup. “Fosca.”

“Fosca?”

“My cousin,” he says simply. “She has… fits. You'll get used to it.”

You don’t respond. The table resumes its conversation as though a ghost hadn’t just howled through the house.

That night, you lie awake. You hear nothing anymore, but the echo of the scream stays with you, embedded beneath your ribs.

The next morning, you begin your duties. The Colonel has given you a cramped study that smells of paper and disuse. You open your case, arrange your fountain pens, smooth your skirt over your lap. Work is good. Work is order.

Still, sometime after lunch, you knock on Ricci’s office door.

“I was wondering,” you say. “Would it be possible to send a few books to your cousin?”

Ricci blinks. “Books?”

“I brought several with me. I thought perhaps she might.…enjoy something to pass the time.”

He considers this. “Yes,” he says at last. “Yes, I’ll make sure she receives them.”

He takes the small parcel—three novels, well-worn—and sets them aside.

“She’s not quite like other women, you understand.”

“I gathered,” you say carefully.

“She’s very sensitive. I trust you won’t take her… condition too personally.”

“No. But I won’t ignore it, either.”

He says nothing. You leave.

That evening, another scream. Softer this time. But it cuts even deeper.

You find yourself standing in the hallway outside the upper rooms. Just standing. Listening.

You don’t knock.

You return to your own quarters, palms cold, heart unsettled.

You’ve always been practical. You’ve always known your place.

But you’ve never heard a woman sound like that.

I HAVE 3 CHAPTERS OUT ON AO3, READ HERE

[tropical-lazor-beams]

okay but honest to god the reason the king of town has taken the most notable dip in appearances outside of mocking his own character is because he was always a character with no decent relationships with others. i mean coach z had basically nothing to him outside of the accent & some sports things that didn’t last very long, but he’s got some relationships with marzipan & bubs that have given him room to stay. strong mad is & has been very similarly one-note to the kot but he’s got not only his relationship with sb & the cheat as a trio but his straightforward bond with the cheat on its own. they can appear together doing lots of things. meanwhile what has the kot got, the other members of the castle? if they had stuck with him being marzipan’s father that’d give him an excuse to have some kind of dynamic with her but as it stands he has got no relationship with a member of the main cast that isn’t just that other character’s default manner of interacting with someone else.

[demonic0angel]

DC x DP Prompt: Family dinner with the Fenton Family and the Waynes. Chaos ensues.

If looks could kill, Danny would’ve been killed a thousand times over, with his body cremated and his ashes thrown into the farthest volcano with salt then being tossed along the dirt afterwards.

Dan had never looked so vicious as he glared daggers at Danny, who was his eyes closed and his hands in front of him, like a prayer. However, he was definitely praying for patience because he had a dinner knife in one hand that Cass was trying to take back from him to no avail.

Dani had her arms wrapped around Tim’s, a wide grin on her face as she noisily snacked on the roast potatoes and watched the battle between Dan and Danny. Tim was trying to hold back a smile, but he pulled the bowl of potatoes closer to her. Kon, who was sitting on the other side of her and was invited by Tim, was also wide eyed and grinning, an arm wrapped around the both of their chairs when he leaned back.

Jazz just looked at Alfred and Bruce with a shameful look on her face and beading tears of embarrassment in her eyes as she muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again.

Jason was trying to soothe her and not-so-subtly motion Dick to step in and stop the fight while said man was staring at his boyfriend in horror, looking between both of the psychically fighting men with strange looks.

Damian had his head down, whispering to Stephanie and Duke who also had their heads ducked as they gossiped about the situation. Jon, who was sitting on Damian’s other side, was also leaning in and listening with a grin.

Bruce was just looking back and forth between Dan and Danny with wariness and confusion.

“… do you two know each other?”

“Know each other?” Danny said, looking up and finally opening his eyes. “Oh, we definitely know each other.”

Dan bristled at some invisible offense. Dick snapped back fo awareness and grabbed him, chuckling nervously as Dan growled.

Danny raised an eyebrow and sneered, continuing, “Yeah, I know him, alright.”

Dan suddenly grabbed a fork and threw it at Danny. It sank into the wall and pandemonium erupted as the Bats lunged backwards as Dan flew over the table to jump at Danny. However, Danny wasn’t going out without a fight because they immediately began punching and kicking with even some biting. Cass and Dick lunged forward to pull them apart while everyone else moved away.

Dani burst out laughing, but when Jazz burst into tears, that was when everything got even worse.

(I actually wanted to write something like this lmao.

If I continued this, it would be too long, but basically, Jazz has been on her last nerves for the entire day bc this is the first time she’s ever met her boyfriend’s family, and then SUDDENLY she finds out all of her siblings are dating people from the same family and then now her brothers are fighting bc none of them knew that they were dating a pair of siblings, and they thought they could finally get away from each other, and she’s both so embarrassed and so anxious that she started crying.

Immediately, it’s like a *record scratch*, the fighting stops and both Dan and Danny make up really, really fast to comfort their sister and then all of the Phantoms, including Dani bc she did nothing to stop the fight, help clean up the mess and the day actually gets better bc it becomes a bonding activity between the Fentons and the Bats. Jazz is still very embarrassed but it works out.)

[raerae2727]

When they blow up at you: multiple One Piece men x reader

You make them upset and they lose their temper + how they apologize

Includes: Ace, Kid, Law, Sanji, Crocodile, Doflamingo

GN! Reader, established relationship

Warnings: language, crocodile is neglectful and doffy is toxic, both reader and kid are lowkey toxic together, ace sanji and law’s parts are sweet tho💋

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Ace

He’s always pretty upbeat and tries not to show anger around you, but one day you make a joke that takes it too far. Your relationship had always been full of humor and you simply misunderstood what was acceptable to joke about and what wasn’t. You know you messed up when Ace goes quiet and puts his head down. You put your hand on his shoulder and frantically try to apologize, but he clearly isn’t having it as he stands and tries to walk away from you.

“Ace, wait! Listen!” You call as you try to pull him back, eager to explain yourself and properly apologize. He suddenly turns around and, in front of everyone, begins to lecture you.

“Why don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

Your guilt quickly turns to anger at the hypocrisy of Ace’s words. It always seemed to you that no joke was “too far” because of the way he so freely poked fun at you, your interests, and those you care about. How dare he pin this accusation on you?

“You’re the one who can’t take anything serious!” You respond, raising your voice louder than his.

He’s basically yelling when he responds, “At least I know where to draw the line!”

“What about all those times you made fun of me? Is it only an issue when I do it back?”

Everyone is staring at you two by this point, but all you can focus on is holding back tears when Ace yells, “I guess we just don’t go well together!” He slams his hand on the table, “Good luck finding someone else who’ll put up with you for as long as I have!”

Ashamed and heartbroken, you rush to your room and cry into your pillow. It feels like an eternity before you finally hear a knock on your door. You don’t respond but Ace opens it and lets himself in anyways, setting down his hat. He sits on the edge of your bed and breaks the silence with, “Good thing I stayed calm out there, right?”

Amazed that he still has the audacity to joke around, you sit up and scold, “Ace!”

He holds up his arms defensively. “Sorry, Sorry, I’m ready to talk about it if you are. And for the record, I love putting up with you.”

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Kid

Your relationship was always explosive because of your captain’s temper, but he must have already been on edge today because this was worse than usual. Killer wanted some rest so Kid is trying to make dinner for the crew, but he absolutely sucks at cooking. He refuses to listen to your advice and tension is growing as you continue to try and help.

“Stop being so controlling! I’m the captain here!”

The smell of burnt food is getting stronger, and you can’t help but take the pan off the burner yourself. “We’re hungry. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just accepting help for once.” You try to keep your tone neutral to avoid a fight - which is clearly ineffective as Kid grabs you by the arm and pulls you outside of the kitchen.

“Why are you so set on embarrassing me in front of my crew!?” He shouts, gripping your shoulders.

You roll your eyes and speak calmly to make him feel like he’s overreacting. “It’s not that big of a deal. It would be more embarrassing if nobody was able to eat because your ego is too big to let me help.”

Kid is infamously bad with words, so he just responds by cursing and shoving you with much more force than intended. You go tumbling back until your head hits the wall and you fall to the floor. Kid looks shocked but before he can kneel down to help, you shoot up and shout, “What the fuck was that!?!”

“I don’t know!! Are you okay?” He yells back, panicked.

“No! I’m gonna tell Killer that you’re abusing me!” You scream, not realizing the whole ship can probably hear you two by now.

“No!” Kid responds fearfully, one-upping your volume and holding you in place by your shoulders again. “I swear I’ll always listen to you from now on! I promise! Please don’t tell on me, you know it was an accident!!”

Before you can scream back, the kitchen door swings open and you two stare at Killer like deer in headlights.

“Get in here and set the table. I knew you guys wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

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Law

Law always stretches himself too thin between working late, taking care of his crew, and making sure they don’t get themselves in too much trouble. He must have been losing a lot of sleep because of this, as he’s asking you to bring him his 4th cup of coffee today and it’s not even noon.

You tell him, “I don’t think I should do that, babe. I’m sorry. You should get some rest instead.” His under eye bags are especially dark today and his hair is messy.

“I have to get this done,” he responds calmly, though you can detect a hint of annoyance in his tone. “Can you at least get someone else to make it?”

When you go behind him and rub his shoulders, he sighs and leans back in his chair. He must be exhausted. “Please, babe?” He asks once more.

“Law, you of all people should know the importance of rest.”

He pulls away from your touch and crooks his neck to look in your eyes. “And you, of all people, should appreciate the work your captain does to keep this crew out of harm’s way.” He doesn’t yell, but the scolding tone of his voice hurts you more than yelling ever could. He stands up and walks to the kitchen, presumably to make his own coffee, and you follow behind. “Can’t you just give me some alone time for once?” He snaps.

You’re growing increasingly frustrated at Law’s stubborn attitude. “You need to rest! I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re putting your health at risk.”

“Sometimes,” he grabs you by the chin and leans in, “I have to make sacrifices for this crew. Be thankful.” You can’t help but start to tear up. His harsh words stung extra when he looked at you like that. Law lets go of you and his gaze softens when he realizes how upset he’s made you. The tone of the conversation immediately shifts. “Sorry, I-” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you cared that much.”

“Of course I care.” You cry. “I love you.” You pull him into a hug and he leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I’ll take a nap if you promise to stop crying.” He whispers, rubbing your back.

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Sanji

“Can you add a dash of salt to the soup, love?” Asks your boyfriend. He’s recently taken to including you while he cooks, which is an honor coming from someone who takes it so seriously. He’s gentle, patient, and excessively romantic with you in every aspect of the relationship, though sometimes finds himself being a bit more firm when cooking. You waltz across the kitchen, handing over him a knife, stirring a pot, or cleaning dishes for Sanji, whose hand finds your waist each time you pass. You dip your finger into the sauce he’s making and give it a taste.

“It’s good, maybe a bit bland though,” you comment.

“Noted, head chef,” he teases back playfully while accepting your criticism and adding more seasoning. When you go to take another taste, your elbow knocks over an inconveniently placed jar of olive oil, spilling it into the sauce and all over the counter.

“Shit! I’m sorry Sanji, I’ll clean it up.” He looks a bit disappointed, but gives you a soft smile and pat on the back.

“Don’t worry love, it happens,” his tone shifts to something more firm yet still gentle, “but we only have one jar left, so try to be a bit more careful for me in the future, yea?”

“It won’t happen again, promise.” Your mistake makes you shaky with nervousness because you know how seriously Sanji takes food waste. When you reach for a towel to clean up the oil, of course you accidentally knock over a pepper shaker. It falls to the ground and shatters, pepper corns bouncing all across the floor.

Panicked, you stutter out a pleading apology while you scramble to find a broom. “Oh my god babe, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I’m so clumsy to-”

“How about you just leave the cooking to me.”

You look up, surprised at his stern voice. He doesn’t look back at you, just grips the handle of his mixing spoon angrily. Your heart drops into your stomach in shame.

“Go find someone else to help me clean up this mess, okay?” You can tell he’s trying his absolute hardest to contain his disappointment, but it’s still evident in his tone. You silently leave the kitchen, embarrassed tears stinging your eyes.

You try to calm yourself down in your room before dinner, you don’t want any of your crew mates to know about your humiliating mistakes. Not even five minutes after you had left the kitchen though, your door swings open. Sanji is on his knees with a bouquet of flowers and big puppy dog eyes looking up at you.

“I have no words to describe how sorry I am for getting upset at you. My anger was a bigger mistake than any amount of spilled food.” Your emotions quickly turn upside down and you laugh at the dramatic display.

“Sanji! I should be the one apologizing!” You run up to him and pull him into a tight hug. You reassure him, “It’s okay to get frustrated sometimes. I’m not mad!” He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes you tight.

Smelling the bouquet, you ask, “Where did you even get these?”

“I have a stash,” and you both burst into laughter.

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Crocodile

It seems like all he does is work, and you’re fed up with it. You get so bored sitting around in Crocodile’s mansion all day while he’s locked up in his office. Luckily, he left the door ajar today and you’ll be able to force him to give you the attention you deserve. You slink through the door and hoist yourself up onto the edge of his oversized desk.

“What.” He says gruffly, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m booored,” you whine, swinging your feet, “wanna go swimming?”

Crocodile sighs and rubs his temple in annoyance, still not looking up. “Go fetch me a drink and I’ll consider it.”

“No you won’t!” You argue, “you always say that!”

He slams a fist on the table and finally looks up to meet your eyes. “Maybe I would want to spend more time with you if you weren’t so whiny! Now go!”

You’re shocked and hurt by his unexpected anger and leave defeated, looking back one last time to see him continuing his work, seemingly unbothered.

Later that night, as you’re lying in bed reading, you hear the door softly creak open. Crocodile is holding an unopened expensive perfume with a ribbon tied around it.

“I know I haven’t had a lot of time for you lately, and I’m sorry.” He sighs, setting the gift on your nightstand and undoing his tie. “We’ll go swimming next week, I promise.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before getting into his robe.

As you drift off to sleep, you look at the various expensive gifts he’s gotten you as apologies, knowing he will never follow through with his promises.

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Doflamingo

Making Doflamingo angry is always the last thing you want to do, but his immature sense of entitlement can be infuriating. The two of you were watching the sunset by the poolside and discussing your latest reads while waiting on a servant to bring another bottle of wine. You didn’t notice how long it was taking until he brought it up.

“What’s taking that damn worm so long?” What’s so hard about fetching a bottle of wine?” The veins in his forehead started to bulge, a telltale sign of his annoyance.

You take his hand in yours and rub your thumb into his palm, trying desperately to keep him calm. “I’m sure it’ll be here soon, Doffy. Let’s not worry about it for now - keep telling me about your book.”

He could see right through you. Any attempt at influencing his emotions always only made it worse.

“Don’t baby me. This is an act of utter insolence and I don’t know why you expect me to tolerate it.” He slaps your hand away. “I’ll give that rat a piece of my mind once it gets here.” As much as you want to just leave it at that and enjoy the rest of your evening, your unrest with Doflamingo’s behavior has been growing for weeks and you speak before you can think.

“Can’t we just have one nice evening where you don’t have to abuse someone over the tiniest thing? It’s just some wine, we’ll live.” You’re terrified to see his frown turn into a wide grin as he starts to laugh.

“Have you forgotten who I am? Who you have the privilege of being close to?” With one sweep of his arm he knocks your glass off the table, shattering it and making you jump in fear. “Get out of my sight,” He hisses.

Offended by his quick switch-up, you bargain, “Doffy, can’t we just talk abou-”

“Out!” He yells. “And that’s Young Master to you!”

You scurry inside the palace, knowing things could get ugly if you chose to stick around. You wait all night for him to come knocking on your door with a superficial apology, even a passive aggressive one, but he never shows.

That petty man child was avoiding you. A whole week goes by before you even see his face. As you’re playing chess with Diamanté (who’s even more insufferable) to pass the time, you find yourself wishing you were with Doflamingo instead. As if on cue, he struts in and ruffles your hair from behind.

“What do you say we go share a drink together, just you and me, hm?” He muses, rubbing your shoulders as if he hadn’t just disappeared for a week. Your anger towards him subsides at his touch. You know you only feel this way because of his manipulative charm, but you let yourself love Doffy anyway.

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[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one you get hurt by an unsub, and while tending to your wound, reid spirals into an internal monologue about what your type might be — and why he even cares.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, reader gets injured (in the neck), blood and wound, good old banter, a bit longer than necessary but i haven’t written in a while and went all in <33 oh and now reid not only has a crush on you but also on your car :>

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.2k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request

Don't take this the wrong way—it's not like Spencer Reid was arriving at such existential conclusions at that particular moment, when the blade of a knife was pressed close—dangerously close—to her delicate neck. The thought flared up in his mind briefly, intensely, fleetingly—then vanished, and he only returned to it hours later, once the air had cooled a little.

Basically, Spencer definitely preferred to be the one in someone’s crosshairs, the one in mortal danger, rather than watch someone else go through it.

A brief summary of the case that led to the chaos that erupted in the office that night—a man suffering from PTSD who, after a psychotic break, became convinced that his wife and daughter had been abducted, and that everyone close to him was an impostor, all part of a massive conspiracy against him.

He got into the Quantico building by killing a police officer and stealing his uniform. Once inside, he found his way to the BAU offices and threatened to blow himself—and everyone else—up with homemade bombs if his real family wasn’t returned to him.

And well, just when everyone thought the situation was under control, when the unsub finally seemed to give up and put down his weapon…he suddenly launched himself into one last desperate attempt to escape, bursting through the doors.

He probably would’ve been shot. He probably knew that.

Which is why, when he saw a woman confidently crossing the hallway— and remembered the knife hidden up his sleeve—he didn’t hesitate. He simply pulled her toward him before she even had a chance to realize what was happening, turned to face the agents sprinting after him—who skidded to a stop at the sight, the squeal of their soles loud against the floor—and showed them exactly how tightly the blade was pressed to her skin, in a threat that made it…basically impossible for them to do anything.

Spencer struggled to breathe. That’s when the thought came. He preferred being in danger himself rather than watching others go through it. And it wasn’t some savior complex haunting him—nothing like that. It was just that staring death in the face gave him a greater sense of control, and a lesser sense of stakes. If you mess up, you die. That’s it. No one else pays the price. You don’t have anyone on your conscience. You don’t have to live with someone else's loss.

Also, it’s easier to come up with a plan then. The words just come out of you—you talk the unsub down, you convince him to spare you, or you outsmart him somehow. Things get complicated when you’re standing across from someone with a knife pressed to their throat, when you see the shock widening her eyes, her hand clenched around the man’s forearm, a grip she can’t yank or dig her nails into without risking having her throat slit.

So she freezes, completely still. 

Terror building in her gaze as it moves, one by one, across all their faces—Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss—

until it finally lands on him. Spencer held her gaze, realizing it was the only thing he could do to help her in any way. And to convince the unsub to let her go—but Rossi was handling that part now,

and the rule was that during negotiations, only one person should do the talking. Which, honestly, worked in her favor, because Reid wasn’t sure he’d be able to say anything that made sense.

Or maybe that’s just how he always thought of himself—afterward.

But at least he could hold her gaze, silently repeating the obvious things like don’t move or don’t panic, and watching as she answered back with just her eyes, something along the lines of how the hell am I supposed to not panic, you fucking idiot, when someone literally has a knife to my throat?Which—okay—was a bit sharp, but fair. Someone did have a knife to her throat and she was herself. He hadn’t expected any other answer, really. He was just glad she was still answering at all.

The unsub jerked his head when one of Rossi’s words seemed to hit particularly hard. He furrowed his brow, like he was trying to push back against the doubt forming in his mind, his knuckles shifting as he twisted the knife’s handle slightly. Spencer heard Prentiss exhale behind him—he held his own breath. She—the woman who’d ended up in this situation by complete accident—shut her eyes tight and stretched her neck upward, as if that small motion might somehow shield her.

But the pressure increased—the blade pressed tighter against the side of her neck, and a thin line of blood slipped beneath her collar.

It was too much.

Apparently for the unsub, too. Maybe he realized that this had been doomed from the start.So…he gave up, pushing his hostage away from him. Hard. So hard that she couldn’t hold herself up fully, crashing to her knees two meters away with a short hiss of pain. Spencer and Prentiss were instantly at her sides, while the rest of the team took care of arresting the unsub. Almost in sync, they grabbed her by both elbows, lifting her up with a bit of exaggerated care, as if to make sure she wouldn’t fall.

“It’s okay now, you’re safe—” Spencer began, rather standardly, feeling relief slowly spread through his body.

His eyes found the wound on her neck, trying to estimate how serious it was. But before he could do that—or even finish his sentence—she pulled her elbow free from his grip, then the other one from Emily’s.He froze, watching her move away from them with two shaky, staggering steps. He reached out again, burning with the sense that she might fall any second, but she stopped him with a simple, stiff extension of her hand.

He and Emily exchanged a glance.

“I’m not—” she began, standing firm on the ground, not moving.

Blood still flowed down her neck, but she seemed unaware of it, not even attempting to stop it with her fingers. She didn’t finish her sentence, pressing her lips into a thin line, her chest slowly rising and then sinking.

Of course, he couldn’t be sure what she was about to say, but he had a feeling it was something like I’m not one of your victims.

Without even sending him a glance, though their eye contact had been tight before, she turned on her heel, passing by the other agents who parted before her like the Red Sea. She was followed by many gazes, but for a while, no one said a word.

“What are you waiting for?” Rossi asked gruffly, spreading his arms. One of his eyebrows arched. “Someone go after her!”

Spencer felt as if someone had physically pushed him, urging him to take the same path she had just walked. It was possible he did it a little too energetically, and realizing that everyone was watching him, he felt a faint blush on his cheeks, but he tried to maintain his composure. He was doing them all a favor—she used to be insufferable even when no one had just tried to kill her. Some inexperienced agent might not survive her conversation after someone had.

And okay, he had to admit it to himself. There was also a slight hint of concern in that. He hadn’t been able to examine the wound on her neck, so he didn’t know how serious it was. He’d rather she didn’t bleed out. Besides, hey, when someone has just had their throat threatened, you simply follow them.

Why was he trying so hard to justify this to himself?

He found her, of course, in her lab. He reached it almost at the same time, even though she had left earlier, which made him realize he had sprinted the whole way. In any case, he burst inside just behind her, almost colliding with her back. Why was she standing there? Her entire team was in the lab, having stopped their work to stare at her, their mouths agape and one muffled gasp at the sight of the blood on her neck.

“Everyone go home,” she ordered, just having pressed her hand to the wound.

Reid slipped in quietly, standing by her side without a word, feeling a little lost, like an overwhelmed puppy at her feet.

“Oh my god—”

“What happened?”

“Gurl, I mean boss, you’re bleeding—”

“Literally sent you home earlier, why are you complaining?” she scoffed, but it was a nervous scoff. Suggesting that if they didn’t immediately disappear from her sight, she’d blow the lab up herself and turn them all into dust.

They looked at her confused, and Spencer was surprised to see genuine worry and fear on their faces. Well, he shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he’d feel the same if something happened to Hotch. For some reason, he’d always perceived her relationship with the team as… less close. Maybe in reality, it was the complete opposite.

“I’ll take care of her,” he said, turning to the team.

All eyes were on him. Some raised their brows. Including hers.

Fucking choice of words. Take care seriously, Reid?!

Despite the growing embarrassment, he forced himself to give a convincing nod. Then, with hesitation and in complete silence, her entire team made their way to the exit, sending worried glances toward their boss, which she ignored, her head lowered and a hand pressed to her neck.

The door closed, and the silence between them was heavy.

She didn’t interrupt it just moved towards the first aid kit in the lab and began pulling out the necessary items to tend to the wound. Her movements were so efficient and composed that Spencer couldn’t help but feel shamefully unnecessary.

Watching her search for something to wipe the blood from her hands, he realized and handed her the first cloth he grabbed. Since he was already there, he figured he might as well be of some use.

“This is my lab coat,” she hissed at him, right after grabbing the cloth from his hands.

Defensively, he raised both hands.

She just sighed and, with nothing else nearby, wiped her hands on the white fabric.

“You’ll be washing this,” she insisted.

“No way, you wiped it yourself…” He stopped mid-protest, his gaze falling on the amount of blood now covering her lab coat. His eyes widened slightly. She was turned to him with the uninjured side, so he couldn’t assess the severity of her wound, but it seemed worse than he had assumed. Worse than her reaction suggested. He nodded slowly, almost in a daze.

“Okay, I’ll wash it.”

She hesitated slightly.

"Don't be deliberately nice to me."

 "Are you seriously yelling at me for being nice to you?"

 "Much better."

His heavy, disbelieving sigh. He truly didn’t know anyone else like her. For a moment, they remained in silence as her hands found the disinfectant and poured a reasonable amount onto a sterile pad. Spencer cleared his throat.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” he said.

The whole situation, he meant. The unsub’s escape, taking her as some kind of hostage. It would’ve been one thing if she’d been an agent actively working the case—but she wasn’t. She was a completely random person who just happened to be walking through at the wrong time. In a building where, if anywhere, everyone was supposed to feel safe. On that note, he truly felt a twinge of sympathy—and even anger. How had they even let that man get inside?

Her snort was fully understandable.

 "Wow, really? I thought that was supposed to happen." Her bitter remark was followed by a hiss as she pressed the cotton pad to her neck. She pulled it away, looking at the stain on it, and a grimace passed across her face. "Normal. Another day at work, some guy bumps into you in the hallway and puts a knife to your throat. Happens all the time," she continued sarcastically, though the sarcasm wasn’t as noticeable in her voice. In fact, there was barely any in it, weakened by how suddenly tired she sounded. The lab was quiet, and he could hear her swallow loudly. "You get used to it. They could at least add a bonus for every surprise like this...god, why is it bleeding so much?"

She suddenly turned her head toward him, and for the first time, panic flashed in her eyes. Spencer flinched, surprised by the sudden change in her behavior, but he quickly adapted, straightening up in his place with a sense of purpose.

“Let me see,” he immediately suggested, and to his surprise, she didn’t push him away this time. She turned fully toward him, allowing him for the first time to get a close look at the wound. Close enough, in fact, that he instinctively took a step forward, his hand automatically reaching out to take the sterile gauze from her. “You’re pressing too hard. The skin on your neck is delicate, and the blood vessels are very close. You need to be gentle,” he said.

“So be gentle, doctor,” she muttered.

Spencer felt a small smile tug at his lips, but he quickly masked it. It helped to focus on what actually mattered in that moment—his hand gently steadied her neck to keep her from making any unnecessary movements, especially risky with a neck injury. Only then did he reach for the wound with his other hand, carefully cleaning it.

A barely audible sigh of relief escaped him when he realized it wasn’t as deep as he had feared. The artery was intact—thank god. But the bleeding was a bit alarming.

At first, he could feel her gaze lingering on his concentrated expression, unreadable, save for the slight furrow of her brow betraying the pain. She gave a subtle nod.

“It’s okay, I think that’s enou—”

She began, but before she could pull away, Spencer moved first, reaching past her toward the first aid kit behind her back for the right kind of dressing. Since he had started, he might as well finish.

Suddenly, he felt a touch on his elbow—her hand, gently resting there at first, then pressing down with more weight. A moment later, her other hand joined it, on the opposite side of his body. His movements slowed, even his breath catching, startled by what he first took as some strange gesture—until it hit him. It wasn’t a gesture. 

She was simply struggling to stay on her feet.

His hand moved instinctively to her waist, steadying her just long enough to slide a chair beneath her. She sank into it without resistance. A fresh bandage now adorned her neck—one of the most meticulous dressings Spencer had ever done, and he’d done many. Honestly, you could slap a photo of it into a first aid textbook and no one would question it.

He took a step back, catching the dazed expresson clouding her face.

“Feeling weird,” she admitted.

Adjusting quickly to the shift in her condition, Spencer’s mouth parted slightly before he nodded in understanding.

“Yeah. That’s probably the adrenaline leaving your system. It’s normal. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Who said I was afraid?”

“Well, the sarcasm clearly hasn’t left your system. That’s a good sign. Means everything’s still working just fine. If it were gone—that’s when I’d start to worry.”

With a certain inexplicable satisfaction, he watched as a small, delicate smile tugged at the corners of her lips. For a moment, they both fell silent—different from the kind of silence they’d shared earlier, when Spencer had awkwardly glanced around the lab, unsure of what to do or how to help her.

This silence felt like rest. Like something she needed. So he let it be.

His gaze settled on her—almost absentmindedly, really. Or at least, that’s what he told himself until her eyelids, which had been resting half-shut, slowly lifted...and caught him staring.

"You can go now," she instructed.

He decided to take it as a thank you. Still, he didn’t move, despite her words.

"And you’re planning to…?" he asked.

"Go home," she finished for him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then, after a pause, she snorted softly. "Actually, I had a date tonight, but…well, I guess I should probably cancel that."

He nodded.

"Yeah, you probably should."

Their eyes met, and for a second Spencer wondered if he’d said that a little too firmly. He cleared his throat.

"I mean, it’s probably better if you use the time to recover," he added, feeling some strange sense of duty to clarify. He gave a small extra nod, like that might help sell it. Dear God.

"Besides," he went on, "if you think about it, you’d actually be doing them a favor. Nothing they could possibly say would impress you after the day you’ve had."

She raised her eyebrows.

“So you're suggesting I only date boring guys?”

He rolled his eyes skyward, because of course that was the part she chose to focus on—the absolute least important part of what he'd said.

“First of all, I’m not interested in the kind of guys you date,” he replied—though he wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

The thing about Spencer Reid was that many things interested him. Just…in general. For no particular reason.

So yes, in a way, he was curious—not about the specific men she went out with, but about their type. He believed people paired up in psychologically driven ways, and analyzing her personality had only led him to contradictory conclusions.

Were they stereotypical alpha males? Overly dramatic romantics? Confident-to-the-point-of-arrogance types…?

“I’m just saying that staying home might be a good idea,” he finished, snapping out of the mental spiral. He sighed. “Anyway—how are you planning to get home?”

She stared at him for a moment, as if the question didn’t quite make sense.

“Car,” she said flatly.

“You’re driving yourself?”

“No, with a hired chauffeur.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“Why wouldn’t I drive myself?”

She pushed herself up from the chair slowly, clearly making an effort to seem alert and lively.

Well. The problem was, she didn’t. Her movements were slow, dulled, almost weak—an answer in themselves, really. At least, enough of an answer that Spencer didn’t have to say a single word.

All it took was one pointed look.

Her long, drawn-out, irritated, yet also submissive sigh.

"You’ve already survived someone trying to slit your throat—don’t you think it’d be kind of stupid to die in a car crash now?" Reid asked, raising his brows. And even though his words had a teasing undertone, he was looking at her seriously. He scratched his nose. "I can drive you."

What surprised him was the sudden skepticism in her gaze, made stronger by the way she folded her arms across her chest. She narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Doing what?"

"You followed me, you stayed, you dressed the wound, and now you want to drive me home. As far as I know, you don’t owe me some great debt. So why are you doing this?"

"Bravo. You’ve just discovered that selflessness is a thing," he snapped.

She didn’t really buy it. And honestly, it wasn’t very convincing. He just couldn’t help falling back into some good old-fashioned bickering. And, truthfully, he needed a moment to think about his answer. Sure, he could’ve just blamed Rossi, said it was him who told him to go after her. Which wouldn’t have been that much of a lie. Or he could’ve thrown out something like no one else would’ve been able to handle you in that state, but for some reason, he couldn’t say that out loud. Because was it even true? There wasn’t anything particularly special about him, and it wasn’t like their relationship was all that warm to begin with. So maybe the question wasn’t why he was doing all this—but why she was letting him.

He ran through the whole monologue in his head, outwardly just shrugging.

"It’s part of my job."

His job wasn’t just about the criminals—it was also about the people who got hurt because of them.But even if he’d chosen any other career path in life, he probably would’ve ended up in her lab anyway. Because, fine, whatever—you want the truth?

He cared.

At least a little.

Happy now?

She drilled into him with her gaze, and he had the unsettling feeling that a fragment of his earlier monologue had somehow escaped through his ears and she had heard it.An urgent need to look away—but before he could, she reached something out toward him. Spencer extended his hand; her palm dropped toward his like she was about to give a sideways high five, but froze mid-air. The tips of her fingers brushed his skin, but something was separating the inside of her hand from his, preventing full contact.

Car keys.

*

*You dropped something, Doc."

Snapped out of what felt like a borderline magical trance, Spencer began glancing around his feet for whatever might have fallen out of his pocket. He found nothing.

"What?"

“Your jaw."

He tore his eyes away from what was in front of him with difficulty, just to look at her (let’s skip the fact that usually it was entirely the other way around…), and immediately met her small, defiant smirk. Her face still hadn’t regained its full liveliness, but his reaction definitely sped that process up. Reid quickly shook his head to snap out of it. It didn’t work. Fuck.

Everyone—literally everyone—who knew him was aware of his love for old cars. How the hell was she in possession of such a gem and he didn’t know about it?

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. Oh, that worked much better.

“Come back from whatever land you just drifted off to. I’m kind of in a hurry.”

He weighed the car keys in his hand, but before he took a step toward the driver’s side, something stopped him. Slowly, he turned his head toward her.

“So, you’re actually planning to go on that date?” he asked, with a tone that clearly questioned whether that was such a good idea.

She hesitated for a moment before answering, her lower lip slightly pushed out. Not because she was actually thinking about it. It seemed like she was doing it on purpose, assuming he was waiting to hear what she'd say. Which wasn’t true. He stood there, completely still in front of her, not because of that—definitely not…

“No,” she muttered at last. “I’m just tired. In a hurry to get to bed.”

Spencer nodded in agreement, considering that a very good choice. Having gotten an answer to his question, he could finally sit in the driver’s seat, feeling a wave of stress build up. It had been a while since he’d last driven, and this wasn’t just any car. Not that he’d be more inclined to crash head-on into a truck in another kind, but you know what he meant. There was a heavier sense of responsibility now—for three, not two.

“Maybe you can reschedule. I mean—you and your date. An assault’s a pretty solid excuse, he shouldn’t be mad,” he added, for some reason continuing the topic and immediately regretting not having a third hand to cover his mouth while the other two rested on the steering wheel.

She muttered something under her breath that sounded like just let him try. After those words, she became much less talkative, and Spencer even wondered if she was simply upset about having to cancel the evening. He kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye, trying to catch an expression that might confirm it. He found nothing of the sort, which allowed him to assume it hadn’t been a serious date. Not the kind you look forward to for weeks, wondering what tie to wear. That left him with a certain light feeling in his chest.

He sighed, focusing on the road ahead. She had given him her address, but hadn’t said anything else. She was tired, with a wound on her neck—he should let her have this moment of silence and rest. He should keep his mouth shut and just do what he was supposed to do. He should…but hell, he couldn’t help himself.

“You know that this Mustang was the first model year with a wider body, specifically to fit bigger engines? And its original radio had an option to hook up a record player? Can you imagine, listening to vinyls in a car…”

If his rambling had been met with an annoyed grimace from her, he probably would’ve shut up. But that didn’t happen. Despite the exhaustion on her face, she actually seemed to be listening, all the way until they came to a stop. Only then did her hand absentmindedly brush the bandage on her neck, and her surprisingly gentle gaze slowly turned to him.

“Thanks, Reid.”

A simple thank you, but he could sense it was sincere. He gave a slight nod. It was nothing. 

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

was binge reading under your wing au and had an idea for it

What if the boys were playing mario party and reader sits on the dick who has the highest points

(lowkey they get her high & theyre not allowed to bust in her)

a/n: no but the way intox kink is so high on my list of things i wanna play around with these guys!! you get meeeee! you’ve hacked my computer and looked at my nasty notes! ♡ 

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

when your stepbro had texted you saying that he had gotten his hands on the newest game and was inviting you over for the first official time he and the rest of the frat got to play with it, sweet little you had of course assumed that that was just it. you would just go over there, play some nintendo, laugh till you cried, nothing else whatsoever 

how fucking wrong could you have been

it was Marc who was the one who suddenly conjured a joint from his stash. 

your eyes went wide when you realised that it wasn’t just a hand rolled cigarette that the frat boy was about to light in the middle of the living room. 

now, you’d never done any drugs before, much less seen any in real life, not even a simple joint, so naturally you instantly became paranoid, looking over your shoulder because what if an officer of the law suddenly burst down the door and saw you all doing illegal shit? it wasn’t gonna happen, but the ache still bloomed in your stomach 

then they say all of this stuff about how you should try it for the first time in a safe space around people who you know, which calms you enough to timidly take the blunt when it is handed to you

the first hit makes you cough like crazy and you quickly begin to feel strange, but the guys then just nudge you and say that if you take another drag then you’ll feel better. glancing to your stepbrother, he of course is all in as well and just lulls you into a false sense of security, assuring you that everything will be alright and how you should trust him since he’s your big stepbro after all

so you quickly turn into a giggly mess, all foggy and pliant for them to toss you to whoever wants you in their lap

maybe at first it gets you so hazy and turned on that you unconsciously start humping the thigh that you’re sitting on, like you’re in fucking heat or something

or maybe it’s the guys who take the opportunity to tease you as soon as you get all fuzzy. light caresses all over your body, so light that you don’t even register them through your high. tickling your little nipples as they poke through your shirt. basically just teasing you till you’re all drippy for them and trembling on top of them like they’ve edged you for hours. 

they don’t really take any of their clothes off, just unzips and such for the ✨important✨ parts of them to spring forth

but they do rip all of your clothes off, not that you really notice till it’s way too late because of how brainless they’ve got you

now, i’m imagining that since you’re all melted, the perfect little pocket pussy for them all, the position you’re often moulded into is like you in their lap, your back completely melted back against them, your legs folded up against your chest while their arms are wrapped around you and their just bouncing you in their laps, using you like a fleshlight

that vibe or they make you cockwarm them if they still gotta have their hands free to play 

they probably tried to get you to move on your own, but you are just way too high to be able to do it, so they settle for just the feeling of your weepy cunt clenching tightly around them as you try to keep up with the bright colours flashing on the tv

oooorrrr maybe someone who isn’t playing (because there are tons of them and there's a limit to how many players there can be at once) can swoop in and help move you. you know, just dudes being dudes, bros being bros and getting each other off, jerking your pal off with the pussy that you’re all head over heels for lol

now, your eyelids feel so so heavy, and at one point you finally loose the battle, but then when you blink them open again, it takes you a while to notice that you’re sitting on someone else’s cock

and if your whining gets too much and starts messing with their concentration of the game, then they just grumble for you to shut up before the person next to you suddenly grabs your hair and folds you over to silence your whimpers and fill up your mouth 

they also get you to say all sorts of nasty things that you’d normally blush and put your foot down at if they tried to make you repeat such filth when you were sober

and if all of this happens after they’ve trained you to take multiple of them at once in your warm little holes, well then you best believe that they make you cockwarm multiple of them at once, filling up all of your holes with at least one dick at a time

now, your stepbro may not have allowed his friends to finish in you that day, but that just means that instead of it leaking out of you, you just get covered in cum :) 

and maybe at the end, the next morning when you wake up, you don’t remember too many details from what happened, just that you played that new game and then you must have fallen asleep on the couch… strange… maybe the guys will just have to remind you then of all of the things that actually happened while you were stoned out of your mind…

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[unintentionalseductress]

ok, so I'm really thirsty about the new quadbanner like everyone else, and I really don't know how to request this, but can you write something about Zayne's how he pulling down his zipper, telling us how it would be enough.. tysmm 😔

I think we've all been thirsty since the quad banner came out. I'm like what am I doing with my life, can it just be the 31st already 😩😩😩

Just The Tip

You're struggling. You loved being called a good girl but Zayne made it so hard to be worthy of receiving that praise. Even now. His instructions were simple. Lay naked on the bed and do nothing. No restraints, no punishments. He was trying to make it easy for you. But at the moment it felt like even the simplest things he was doing were making you dangerously close to snapping.

You'd lain there as he'd teased your nipples, working the little buds into aching peaks, and you'd gasped and tried not move as he'd gathered slick from your dripping core and stroked it onto your delicate, swollen, clit, his smoldering eyes darkening as you'd tried to control the building need rising within you. The promise of an orgasm hung in the air but you became careless; one tiny miscalculated action of bucking your hips, and Zayne had stopped, leaving you tingling and bereft.

You'd watched with desperate eyes as he circled around the bed, coming to a halt near your head, wearing a sexy smirk that sent a rush of arousal into your core. "Tch. You make it so hard to praise you, you know? I gave you the most basic of instructions. It appears lying still and doing nothing is too much to ask of you."

Devastated by his lack of approval, you give him your most rueful look, trying to appear apologetic, then whimper as he forcefully grasps your chin, his mouth covering yours as his tongue sensually enters. The wet slip of it against your tongue has you melting, becoming heady from the taste of him as your pussy throbs almost painfully from the lack of stimulation.

Withdrawing, he pushes away hair from your face, cupping your cheek almost tenderly. "Well since it appears you're doing the bare minimum, unfortunately, that's all I can give back to you."

You watch with wide eyes as Zayne opens the zipper of his slacks, and tugs them down along with his underwear, letting his cock spring free, thick and already swollen with arousal, a bead of precum visible in the slit. You almost groan at the sight, imagining how good it would feel to have him fuck you into the mattress, his hot meat stroking your slippery inner walls. You almost forgot that Zayne was not rewarding you at this moment.

He huffs, then positions himself between your spread legs. "Did you really think I was going to let you have all of this?" You let out a small gasp as you feel his tip breach your entrance, pushing in slowly, each minor inch moved making you feel like you might lose your sanity. You try to stay still, letting him do as he pleases, then let out a noise of disappointment as he withdraws. He repeats the process over and over until your arousal has dribbled onto the sheets, making an absolute mess, your mind in a sexual fog.

Zayne's tip is covered with your fluids that have leaked over his velvety column, and he prepares himself to enter again, and the pathetic look of helplessness on your face almost makes him laugh.

"What're you looking at me like that for hmm? Did you think you'd get more with your poor behavior?" He rests his tip halfway inside your canal and stops, feeling the hopeless little clenches of your walls on his cock, as though it eas trying to suck him in further.

"I think that's enough for now." Zayne pulls out completely and you give up, crying out in protest. He chuckles as your reaction before tucking himself back neatly into his pants, fixing his shirt and running his fingers thorough his barely disheveled hair. He offers his hand to you, and you take it, perplexed, and let him help you sit up.

"Get your clothes back on. Yvonne will help you make another appointment. Use that time to work on your discipline and maybe I'll reward that behavior."

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[mixingandmelting]

Hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a s/o who’s like the sweetest thing ever and he just sees them get mad, mama bear mode at a super powered hero who could end s/o if they wanted too. Like this super powered hero abused their powers and hurt someone on purpose cuz they’re thought it was funny or like violated their mental privacy with psychic abilities and messed with their head just cuz they are slightly annoyed at them over something mildly inconvenient and basic, (), (a fellow ally hero) and for some reason didn’t see a problem with it and they look confused like they didn’t see the problem as to why they’re being scolded like a bad child and apologise to s/o to appease this s/o cuz they’re friends, and s/o like, “are you kidding me? It’s not me that you need to apologise too and not do that again!”? Maybe the boys have seen slight glimpses into their s/o having some fire in them sent the boys way in the form of some sass when the boys are wrong about something and be stubborn about it?

Dick: 

Does he laugh or cry?  Donna’s covering her mouth with both hands while tapping him every other second to ask if the team should step in. Wally is making him concerned about the potential chance of him dying from hypoxia because he can’t stop laughing. Maybe he should’ve been the one to give the whole lecture why abusing powers for personal reasons is a big no-no. And he was going to do it too, already having the infamous Batman-glare from not being happy, at all, for witnessing the misuse of power for a petty reason. But so far, in his opinion, you’re doing a pretty good job at getting the message across. 

“-Oh, so you think you’re the next Superman or Green Lantern, huh? All big and tough when you resort to using your powers for being called jumbo?” 

See? Plus he’s pretty sure no one, including himself, wants to interfere when you’re like this. You left the Titans a strong impression when you, the warmest and kindest person he has known, showed this side of you before Dick and Gar were about to go at it with each other during a mission that was going wrong. Not only had you asked him if he was trying to prove he’s babygirl  by snapping at his fellow teammate over speakers of his phone, you had gone after everyone else the second your sharp hearing caught the sound of snickering. It was quite a humbling experience to say the least. They managed to actually get themselves back together and  improve their teamwork, starting with everyone comforting each other as soon as you hung up (too bad it didn’t help his case. He still remembers standing in front of the door for over five minutes, hesitant to enter his own home on the day he came back). 

“Are you kidding me? It’s not me you should be apologizing to. Go apologize to the right person and don’t do it again!” 

Oh, no. Well, there’s nothing he can do about it now. He gives the other his condolences, understanding what they must be going through. Doesn’t make the scene any less ridiculous though, the vigilante ten times your size and more powerful, slightly bending forward with a sad puppy look while you’re waving your arms. He plops himself on a broken part of a building and sits back to watch the other party turn around and drag their feet towards the victim while you walk right behind them like a disappointed mother. 

Jason:

He’s turned around, his hand is on the intercom, the other wrapped around his waist to sell the image he’s in the process of tying the loose ends of the finished mission. But it’s getting harder by the second to not burst from the conversation you’re having with the other vigilante. 

“So what you’re telling me is that using your powers to get back at someone because you were annoyed with them is perfectly acceptable and not immature, childish, or stupid. And you’re sure you’re not being immature, childish, AND stupid.”

He covers his snort with a cough. Listen. You’re already considered tiny when with him. Muscles, strength, give or take height. Your heart is the one exception, wider than the sea and accepting to most including himself. To the vigilante? You’re an ant. But here you are, lecturing them to the brink of their ears falling off while they look like a child getting scolded. 

He gets it. Had he been in the hot-seat, he probably would look the same. Out of good faith once, he took Duke  on a mission that involved Black Mask, To give the teen the taste of working as a solo vigilante even though he was far from completing vigilante training. By the time Bruce and the rest of the gang had arrived, his head hung low, standing as if he was the military. You, on the other hand, were forty-one minutes in and counting on your lecture, the poor teen behind you at a loss on whether he should stop you or not. Trust no one in the family to keep silent when people he doesn’t know come up to him at gatherings to ask if the story of him getting served by you is true. He’s still bitter, especially with everyone knowing he can’t do a single thing. Not when it’s tied to gentle and loving you. So when someone who’s close to you and/or him goes through the same misery, it brings him joy from gaining a new comrade, a sympathetic companion. 

“You better get going and apologize right this instance or so help me I will-” 

“That’s my babe.” Jason murmurs, faking a tear from how moved he is under his helmet. Proud that his one love is able to verbally go face-to-face with someone that can squash you if they wanted to. Until it registers in his mind that you’re silent. Turning around, he flinches and awkwardly waves a hand at your glaring form. Well damn. When things were getting good too. 

Tim:

He doesn’t even bat an eyelash to what’s unfolding behind him, going over the mission like normal despite all the glances the JLA gives over his and the rest of Young Justice’s shoulder. 

“Based on how the sediments that were being transported in the crates, we were able to rule out-”

“Sorry to interrupt Robin, but what’s going on behind you four?”

It’s a record-breaking moment. Their responses have never been as in-sync or instantaneous until then.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not an issue.”

“I don’t see a problem.”

“There’s a problem?” 

The JLA members force themselves to ignore it for the time being from the expression all four of them give. Good. The less questions asked, the better for the team. It was the other day Cass had to face you from the stunt she pulled during said mission they’re going over right now. He knows for a fact that Conner and Bart remember all the times you remind all three males the fire that resides in the soft and sweet you when not taken seriously. When it’s him,Tim can never manage to make eye-contact with you for a few days. Bart hides behind the nearest and largest object the second you’re within a ten-mile radius of him. Conner? He has it the worst. Often left in skin and bones, he used to lie on the floor of his bedroom and contemplate the meaning of life every time someone enters and tries to talk to him. He’s gotten better, having progressed to where he seems to freeze on spot if ignoring the miniscule sniffle he makes. 

You do manage to amaze Tim at the same time, proving to him how  “if there’s a will, there’s a way” is a scientifically proven phrase from the way you stay perfectly fine despite going on for five minutes straight without breathing. 

He does sympathize for the vigilante that can probably kill you on the spot had you not been their friend. From the background of his screen, he can see you point at a certain location before the other dejectedly floats towards that direction. Just in time too. He was running out of ideas on how to stop the league from further finding out Young Justice can’t function without you momming them. 

Duke:

He sends a prayer, wishing the victim to rest in peace. He’s seen you before, experienced first-handedly how you are when you’re in mother-hen mode. And he can say, with complete confidence, the person on the receiving end is a goner. 

Duke’s first time was back during the We Are Robin movement. Looking back, he has to admit younger him was an idiot to think he could dismantle a bomb on his own with no experience, nonetheless one set by Penguin’s men. But him in the past was in his emo-teen phase. Meaning, he didn’t acknowledge or consider all the red flags blaring at his face from how dangerous it was going to be, his mission on proving how useless the adults were to keeping a city safe taking priority. Needless to say, he was a mess when he got back to the base, barely managing to escape with his life intact. 

He thought he knew what was coming when everyone pats his shoulder as they walk out and leave him with you in their meeting room. You didn’t scream. You didn’t yell. The worst part?  He couldn’t defend himself. There was no room for any counter arguments because you knew he knew everything you were saying was right (and because he had a massive crush on but that’s besides the point). Charred front and back, he was instantly put in place and shedding out of his phase there and then. Hence, that moment being the last encounter with that side of you from all the efforts he had put in to do anything to avoid having those horrid times he experienced that day repeat itself again.

“What part of you makes you think it’s me you need to apologize to? On top of messing with a person’s mind because you didn’t like their attitude toward you? Are you sure you’re trying to help save the city? Or are you just- ” 

He shakes his head. He watches the remaining fight in their eyes disappearing, face becoming impossibly paler and ashen when you proceed to shred the remaining dignity in them. On one part, it almost, almost, makes him want to step in and save the other from further looking as if they wanted to dig a hole and bury themselves in it. On another, he’s glad he’s not the one facing your wrath. He can do another day of not going through it, thank you very much. 

Damian: 

He’s having the time of his life. Not as much as he usually does when he ruins a criminal’s perfect night, but still, nonetheless enjoyable. Despite the disapproving eyes Jon shoots at him, his grin grows wider at each strike you give to the vigilante. 

It satisfies him deep in his heart, the image of you destroying their soul piece by piece. Them tasting the hell he constantly goes through.

He suspected you had a fire in your heart since he first met you. How else would it explain your warmth and care you showered others in, including himself? Most cases, he has to maneuver himself to keep most of that warmth to himself. When he doesn’t, that’s when he gets burnt. 

Somehow you always manage to catch him, finding out from someone, perhaps from Drake, Brown, or Todd, about all the reckless actions he did during the mission he went on. Remember the Amazo suit mission he had with Super Boy? You were waiting at his and Super Boy’s hide out the day after it was over. The incident at Lazarus Island? He never wanted to die so much as he did when he had to endure your motherly wrath in front of Suren and Maya. Twice, in fact, after he chased the two that snickered at him during the whole session with his katana.

“Mr. Damian Thomas Wayne-“ is not where you stop. Your grip on his ear is surprisingly strong, where he can’t get you to let go no matter how much he struggles from pure resolve to have him stay where he is. His family had once laughed when he told them how terrifying this skill was, only you in possession of it to his knowledge. Now they, too, fear it having experienced it when they tried to thwart his very much valid and warranted concerns once in front of you. 

“You need to apologize to them, not me! And-Hold on! What do you think you’re doing? Don’t use psychosis! Actually say sorry to them!” 

There’s distraught written all over the vigilante’s face. They aren’t given the choice to choose seeing you don’t budge, leading them to childishly stomp their way towards their fellow teammate, grumbling all the way. They could’ve not listened to you and retaliated back if they really wanted to. Unfortunately, for him, it seems that they want to be in your good grace. Something along the lines of being your friend. Too bad, he disapproves. They’ve been too chummy with you the past few days for his liking and need to be taught the bare requirements to be close to you.

[livlaughloveluke]

DARK!LUKE CASTELLAN NSFW ALPHABET..

warning! this fic contains- a lot of nasty, dirty, dark nsfw headcannons, all varying, so read at your own risk. also a touch of angst and unrequited love? dark!dom!luke. afab/fem reader.

NOTE: this takes place after luke’s betrayal, and luke & reader don’t have an established relationship, it’s more of a sneaky link situation. reader is also definitely in love with luke. oki baii

personal note: i’m back!! kinda. just finishing drafts, so don’t expect me to post much more. sorry for making you guys wait a year 😭 i don’t even know if the luke fandom is still alive

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

even though his whole persona is this mean demigod who wouldn’t care about your feelings for more than a second, he’s not too shabby when it comes to aftercare. he likes to hold you until you fall asleep, and occasionally he’ll run a hot bath for you as a sort of apology for being so rough.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favorite part of himself would have to be his muscles, specifically the ones on his arms. he loves how the veins pop out when he’s rutting into you relentlessly, grasping onto your hips to keep him stable. other than that, luke doesn’t look at himself often, partly because he doesn’t care and partly because it’s a reminder of what he’s been through, the choices he made. he’s more focused on you during sex, specifically the way your tits sway around, the perky nipple bouncing up and down. it’s hypnotizing, really. he can’t help but suck or grope on them from time to time, the tip hardening in his warm salvia.

C = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

surprisingly, he almost always pulls out and finishes somewhere else on your body. there’s just something so degrading about being drenched in cum that turns him on. it’s a nice reminder of who has control during sex.

D = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s had an embarrassing amount of wet dreams centered around you. hypnos must have blessed cursed him, because he can’t go a week without seeing you rutting against him in his dreams. if he wasn’t so ignorant, maybe he’d consider the possibility that he was in love with you, but he was never known for his bright ideas anyways.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s well experienced. let’s say his body count is about 5, which is decent for his situation at camp. there’s very few girls of age, and even less straight ones. but i mean, he knows how to pull and charm girls into getting what he wants. he knows what he’s doing, how to make you squirm and beg.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy, for sure. you’re his pillow princess, head always pushed down while mascara streams down your cheeks in black chunks. he’ll buy you the silk pillowcases, too, so it doesn’t mess up your hair. sometimes he’ll switch it up and go cowgirl, but don’t think that gives you control. he’s the one guiding your ass up and down on him, and he’s happy to manhandle you into a different position if you aren’t behaving.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not too serious, not too silly. he’ll crack a laugh every so often while you beg, or make a dumb comment about you getting desperate. although, he’s the only one who finds those funny.

H = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not clean shaven to say the least. he’s got a decent amount of hair growing down there, but nothing unhygienic. he doesn’t mind it 🤷‍♀️

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

not big on intimacy. luke’s usually just down for a quick fuck and nothing more. although if he has time, he savors everything and it seems a little more romantic.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he rarely jacks off, mainly because you’re always nearby and would get down on your knees with a snap of his fingers. sometimes he’ll make you masturbate in front of him to tease or see what you like, but that usually ends in him fucking you anyways.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

luke into a lot of shit. he loves to tease and deny your orgasms, to watch you beg for mercy as he pulls away completely. degrading words are also frequently thrown around in sex, although he never actually means any of the insults he spews out during the moment. bondage is iffy, but he likes to throw in some handcuffs here and there

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

his cali king bed on the yacht, your bed, the shower, basically anywhere he pleases. sometimes it’s in the privacy of his suite (although your moans can definitely be heard from outside), and sometimes it’s a quickie in the storage closet.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when you start training on the ship and sweat is beading on your forehead, your breaths shaky and muscles tense. he literally goes feral, like something primal in him snaps. don’t even get me started about when you lose a practice match and you get all bratty and snappy.

N = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing really dirty like piss or vomit; it just grosses him out. as for other things, if you’re down to try something new, he is.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he’s really big on oral, both receiving and giving. most of the time it’s you on your knees while he grips your hair and face fucks you, a mixture of precum and spit dribbling down your chin. he adores your beady eyes and how your eyelashes flutter as you take him down your throat. if he’s feeling nice, he’ll go down on you, messily licking and slurping your juices. and you bet he’s a fucking god at it, too.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

luke’s definitely on the faster side, his thrusts quick and sharp. before he finishes though, he’ll switch it up to a slow and hard pace, every movement sloppier than the last.

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

oh he’s definitely down for a quick fuck. anytime, anyplace typa guy. you come up to him begging during training? he’ll fuck you in the equipment closet, metal banging around with every thrust. he has a meeting to attend to discuss his plans? he can multitask and make you suck him off in the shower.

R = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

absolutely. usually, he’ll pretend not to be interested as you slyly mention a new position or kink you want to try out. luke will brush it off, continuing on with his conversation like nothing happened. but when you get into bed later that night, he’ll initiate whatever idea you suggested earlier. just don’t mention it, or he won’t go so easy on you next time.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

as long as he pleases, baby. it ranges, but it frequently consists of 3ish twelve minute rounds where he’s consistently fucking you. unless he decides to drag everything on and torture you, in which it’ll last a lot longer, although it’s mainly just teasing.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he own a few vibrators for you and a pair of handcuffs in case you’re feeling bratty, but other than that he’s not really invested. if he can’t make you squirm with just his body, he’s doing something wrong.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

luke absolutely loves teasing you, for what feels like hours on end. it makes him grin when you beg, every plea from your lips going straight to his dick. especially in public, where he’ll run his hands up and down your thigh, drifting dangerously close to your core. he’ll whisper nasty things into your ear, knowing you won’t get to hook up until hours later. but could you blame him when you looked so sexy in that dress?

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s a grunter, loud and proud. although he definitely prefers your pretty sounds, he just can’t help letting out some noises of his own. contrary to popular belief, he rarely moans, unless he’s caught up in the moment and a few whines happen to slip.

W = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

when he’s feeling reallyyyy kinky, and if the moments right, he’ll pull out a knife during sex. he wouldn’t actually hurt you, at least nothing too serious, but he definitely teases it. luke will carefully drag the blade across your glossy skin, testing the limits as much as possible and watching your tense expression as he presses down every so often. you know he wouldn’t hurt you, but the look in his crazed eyes as he holds the dull side to your throat while pounding your insides tells you otherwise.

another completely different wildcard is that occasionally, he’ll stay up real late after sex, just staring at you and thinking. there’s something about your messy hair and puffy cheeks that captures his gaze for hours upon hours some nights. he knows you love him, he knows you wouldn’t put up with his bullshit if you didn’t care at least a little. and yet he still can’t find it in his heart to care for you. well, he can’t admit that he cares. he can’t admit that he makes sure you eat every day, he can’t admit that he leaves advil on his nightstand for when you sneak out in the early morning, and he sure as hell can’t admit that he knows all of your favorites inside and out. so instead, he’ll stay up all night and coddle you while pretending you’re just another warm body.

X = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i mean…. he’s definitely packing. nothing insane, but a good 6-8in? he’s got a large build, so i wouldn’t be surprised.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

holy shit, it’s pretty high!! i usually try to avoid unrealistic headcannons given to every character, but damnnnn this boy can go all night. he doesn’t usually, since he mostly uses all his energy for training, but even then, it’s still high.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if he’s not spending the night thinking of you (and questioning literally everything about himself) like i mentioned before, he’s out like a light. luke’s a busy guy and he gets sleepy, what can i say? he probably snores too, idk he just gives off that vibe.

[muletia]

guys... please let me cook... and hear me out on this...

obsessed!megop x reader

but not in a 'we're rivals fighting for the love of our lives' or 'sharing our darling' way — more like 'after the messiest divorce in the universe, we got back together, but now YOU are entering this relationship with us'. basically, a poly relationship sprinkled with insanity and horniness

very incoherent and loose headcannons word count: 1100 18+ content at the end (nothing detailed tho)

Let’s assume Megatron and Optimus sort things out. After eons of brutal fighting, they go back to their roots—being with each other, not against each other. They find common ground in their conflict, reaching a compromise between ideologies. Maybe it’s when you entered their lives, and their intense feelings for you began to overlap, eventually aligning on the same wavelength. They realized they could allow themselves a fresh, better start. Build a relationship anew, this time on sturdier foundations. Escape the trap of repeating the same moves— ones that only slowed their rival down rather than destroying him outright. In this case, you’re the catalyst for peace, the olive branch that reconciled two warring factions, all while bringing an end to the longest, most toxic divorce trial in the universe.

When there’s a breakthrough in their relationship, the tangled mess of emotions—hatred, longing, and fervor—slowly begins to untangle. That’s when they disappear from your life for a while. From everyone’s daily life, really. Megatron no longer sat brooding on the Nemesis, scheming your next abduction, and Optimus never returned to base after announcing he was going to "clear his mind." They vanished like stones dropped in water. Zero contact. Not even Soundwave could locate his master. The Autobots were just as clueless.

For you, this situation seemed perfect—you could finally start living a normal life. No more getting kidnapped at 3 a.m., no more being stuck under house arrest at the Autobot base. No more deranged warlord holding you on his lap, promising passionate fantasies that could never come true as long as his rival kept a protective watch over you. And no more overprotective Autobot leader spending hours parked in your driveway. You were free. For about a month.

Ratchet is the first to inform you. After weeks of complete radio silence, they finally managed to locate Optimus. And despite the routine drama of abductions and rescues, you couldn’t help but feel happy. And relieved. Because you missed him, even if you were exhausted by his antics. Maybe you even missed Megatron a little... Despite his madness, he could be charming and intriguing, at least. And everything was going great, just fine—until Ratchet informed you that Optimus was at your house. And he wasn’t alone.

From that point on, you became entangled in their fledgling, turbulent relationship. Passionate, yet resembling a ticking time bomb. Still unexplored. And the funniest part of it all? You were living a much better life than before, even though you were the only sane person in this relationship.

They’ve infected each other with their mania, directing it toward each other whenever you’re not around. It’s especially convenient for you because now Megatron has someone else to fixate on when he feels possessive or craves physical contact. He can take it out on Optimus, who also acts as a brake on his partner’s urges when they get too overwhelming when the need for touch prickles at his claws. No more abductions and schemes—now he can vent on Optimus. That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. When you come home from work, both of them are eagerly ready to show you just how much they’ve missed you.

They quickly find a way to insert themselves into your home. To have a space that’s yours, where they know you’ll always return—and they take full advantage of it. You come back from work, and they’re already there. You’re just taking off your shoes, and you can already feel warm claws brushing against your exposed neck, followed by gentler servos caressing your cheek. Megatron wastes no time, pressing his sharp dentae to your bare skin. Optimus, ever the considerate one, asks how your day was and reminds his partner that you deserve at least a minute to relax. A brake. You go to prepare dinner, and behind you, there’s the subtle sound of metal tapping against metal and an even quieter, low moan...

With two Cerberuses at your side, you’re practically untouchable. And while Optimus doesn’t go beyond stern verbal warnings or intimidation by size, Megatron is ready to demolish your boss’s house if he dares make a snide remark at you. This dynamic also shows when you’re around the Autobots (it took them a long time to accept the new reality, by the way). One sassy comment from Arcee, and your protector is ready to return to the warpath to defend your honor. There are even times when Optimus fiercely defends his partner when someone on his team doubts Megatron’s reformation.

Even though they have each other now, content with their companionship and finally feeling fulfilled, they still can’t stop talking about you. Declarations of the passion they feel for one another almost always transform into monologues about you—about their longing, the softness they associate with you, the belief that if you were with them right now, they’d feel that sense of completeness again. Wholeness. Fulfillment. Harmony. Caught up in each other, but still aching with longing for their human. Their beloved. Without you, they’re like planets without a sun—lost, unproductive. They need you to function on a basic level. The three of you are inseparable.

The end of the war means more free time. Both of them are now unemployed, so all their attention shifts to nurturing your relationship. Including in the bedroom... Suppressing their feelings for so many years, burying them deep in their sparks even as they fiercely clawed for freedom, they’re surely brimming with frustration—frustration that spills into their most intimate, primal needs. They infect you with their fever, proving just how unbearably they’ve missed you and how deeply the desire to have you has consumed them. How it’s burrowed into their processors, taking over their lives, manipulating every choice and decision.

Some days, they can’t wait. The conversation about you goes on too long, dives into too intense, too intimate territory, mocking their self-control and teasing hidden components. Sometimes they climax, chanting your name, even when you’re not around. Sometimes you witness their "games." You don’t intervene, yet have full control. Watching with your own eyes just how utterly dependent they are on you, how they can’t release without your approval.

If having one titan in love with an ordinary mortal wasn’t already an empowering feeling, now you have two, completely at your mercy. Both burning with their own desire and all the tools needed to relieve it—yet it is your word that is final.

try not to develop a god complex challenge, lmao

[httpiastri]

nsfw alphabet – ln4

author's note: this pretty much wrote itself, oh my god. hope you enjoy (and hoping for some good results this weekend!!)

nsfw content below !! minors dni !!!

a – aftercare (what he is like after sex)

after sex, lando craves having you near him. he needs his skin on yours, he needs to kiss you, he needs to hold you. it doesn't matter if he's just fucked you senseless, he still can't live on if he doesn't feel your body pressed up against him.

lando gets soft and mushy after sex, and especially if he's been in a certain type of mood; he just needs to make sure you're alright and that you understand that even if he got a little too into it, he's still your cute and sweet boyfriend. he thanks you for being there, he asks you if you're feeling good, and makes sure he wasn't too rough with you.

another thing about lando after sex is that he loves cockwarming. the first time you tried it was probably just because he was lazy, too tired to pull out, but after then it's so much more. again, it's that craving for your touch and what better way than to completely drown in you all night? he doesn't care if you're both sweaty or sticky or if your combined juices make a mess of the sheets. that's a problem for another day.

b – body part (his favorite body part of his and also his partner's body)

lando likes a lot of his own body parts for different reasons. his tongue because of the way he knows it makes you feel and because he's confident in his skills with it. he likes his hands, the size of them and the way they never fail to make your back arch off the bed (and because of how they look wrapped around your wrists, your legs, your waist, your neck...). he knows his neck makes you go crazy, and he'll think about you leaving a trail of lovebites down it whenever he does his neck exercises at the gym. but honestly, i think he just really likes all of his muscles, partly because of how defined they are and how good they look, but also a lot of it is because of how strong he is; he loves being able to hold your body down in bed, or hold you up in the shower, or throw you over his shoulder and toss you onto the bed.

i genuinely can't figure out if i think he's an ass guy or a boobs guy – i'm pretty sure he's both, and he's obsessed. it doesn't matter if you're petite or curvy or somewhere in between, he's pretty much gawking at you 24/7. if you're turned towards him, he's happy to have a view of your chest. if you've got your back turned against him, his eyes won't be leaving your gorgeous butt. his hands will be on them all the time, doesn't matter if you're out in public or home in your apartment. he needs to feel you, and nothing satisfies his needs as much as having his favorite body parts of his favorite person in his hands.

c – cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

oh he's good with anything. coming inside you, in your mouth, over your chest, doesn't matter. he finds it all so insanely hot. seeing you lick it up? he's dead. seeing you lick your own cum from his fingers after he's fingered you? even more dead.

d – dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

lando loves a good photograph – and that definitely goes for pictures of you. you bet he's got a whole private folder on his phone of just pictures of you on top of his covers, hickeys adorning your skin... ass or breasts on full display... tied up to the bed frame or with one of his hands wrapped around your neck... of course, the two of you have had a serious conversation about it to make sure it's consensual, and he would never ever even think of showing anyone else, he's far too possessive for that. they're purely for his own enjoyment.

the only thing that makes him even more aroused than pictures of you is videos... he's a bit shy to bring it up but he would love to make some kind of softer sex tape one day. but for now, he'll settle for the short clips he has of himself slowly thrusting into you or you riding him.

e – experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)

lando is experienced, no doubt. mostly with casual hookups, though, which i think influences his style. he definitely knows what he's doing, he knows every little secret about your body and what every touch will make you feel. he also surprises you with a new trick every once in a while that just blows your mind because how can he still impress you even after all this time? that's just lando.

f – favorite position (this goes without saying)

lando doesn't settle for just one position, he wants you every way all the time. he loves to switch positions mid-way through just to get another angle and another feel of you. plus, the bonus of getting to see different parts of you is great. doggy just to have his hands on your ass, cowgirl to get to see your breasts bounce... he doesn't really have a set favorite, anything that makes you both feel good is perfect for him.

g – goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous? etc.)

oh he can definitely be goofy with it. lando laughs at pretty much everything and that doesn't just go away in the bedroom. it's not overly frequent, like he doesn't just crack jokes out of nowhere, but he's a smiley dude. he's also very teenage boy-ish, which leads to a lot of laughter and funny situations.

h – hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i don't think he cares too much, to be fair. he's tried shaving a couple of times just to see how it looks, but he's much too lazy to keep up with it. as long as you don't mind a lot, he will just let it grow however it wants.

i – intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he's intimate, sure, but not overly romantic i think. there are moments or certain occasions where he definitely is, though; he enjoys getting all romantic and fluffy for you every once in a while. but for him, most of the romance comes after it. the aftercare is where he'll show just how sweet and domestic he can be.

j – jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he used to love a good handjob, especially during a race weekend when he didn't have access to any girls and just needed to blow off some steam. but ever since he started getting with you, it's just not the same anymore... he misses your touch, the feeling of sinking into you, getting to hear your whiny breaths as he fucks you. he doesn't properly get off by himself unless he's watching a video of you or looking at a particularly suggestive picture you've sent him.

k – kink (one or more of his kinks)

i think lando definitely has a bulge kink. seeing your stomach move around when he thrusts into you makes him so weak. also, i'm sorry but he has a bit of a pregnancy kink, too. especially after spending days with baby relatives or just seeing kids around. it doesn't come out very often, but don't be surprised when he gets all "you'd look so good with my baby inside you" and "let's make that belly round and beautiful, hm?"...

l – location (favorite places to do the do)

i feel like the location doesn't matter a lot to him. bedroom, kitchen, living room, bathroom, the windowsill that any of his neighbors could look through any day... having someone watch you two doesn't matter to him; he just feels like a generous boy for giving them a treat.

he isn't shy to get it on in public, either. obviously, behind closed doors is a must, but if he gets particularly horny at a friend's party? then the bathroom seems like a good place to spend some time. he isn't shy to play a little with you in public either, his hand on your thigh underneath the table at the club slowly but surely inching up... and giving you a few teasing strokes until you're begging for him to just take you home...

one of his weaknesses is swimming pool sex. as long as there's no one else in the pool, it doesn't matter if there are friends nearby (if it's a pool party, etc.); he just loves the feeling of the water around you and how easy it is to slip into you.

don't know where else to put this than here, but i think it's very important to add that lando does not care at all who else is near when you're around and he's in a mood. pda is his middle name, and his hands will be on you at all times. holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, a hand on your ass...

if you're at a party, lando will be upset if you choose a seat that isn't his lap. having you straddle his thighs or sitting sideways in his lap is his biggest wish, and he feels like the world's luckiest man whenever you give him the pleasure of doing it. he also loves it because it means he can make sure you're not off talking to some creepy dude, and that everyone sees who you belong to. lando is very possessive and this is the perfect way to keep his possessiveness in check.

m – motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

honestly, it's not hard at all to rile lando up. he can and wants to get with you at all times. but drunk lando = extra horny lando. never is lando as frisky as when he's downed a few drinks (or half a champagne bottle on the podium). his hands will be on you constantly.

whenever you wear anything that shows off your cleavage, he's done. his brain will short circuit.

as i've covered before, and will cover again, lando is possessive, but also quite easily jealous. seeing you with some other dude makes him really easily riled up. it's not that he likes it – he hates the thought of you actually being with another man – but just a little teasing never hurt anyone. he's too confident in himself and he knows that you love him and only him, that even when he sees you flirt with someone else, it doesn't upset him because he understands that it's all just a game.

n – no (something he wouldn't do, turn-offs)

lando doesn't like to share you. he thinks it's cool that you flirt with other men, but if you were to ever cross the line and actually do something with another man, he would be so mad (and not in a good way-). he could possibly be up for a threesome if you really want to, but he needs to be there and he will be watching over the other guy with so much suspicion. he would want to make sure that you're enjoying everything he's doing much more than the other dude, and to be fair it would pretty much eventually turn out to be just regular sex between the two of you with the other man just not being involved.

o – oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves both of them. he's a messy giver, hastily licks and just eating you out like a starved man. he loves the taste of you – he swears it's one of his favorite things in the world – and he will just never get sick of it. he can go over and over, a million rounds, until he has you completely ruined underneath him; legs trembling, eyes rolled back, brain empty of thoughts.

your blow jobs, though, are like god's gift to him. he would never force you to give him them, but oh does he think about them about 24/7. unless you're completely oblivious, you'll understand quite quickly how much he enjoys them. and why would you not want to please him and make him as happy as he wants? he gets completely lost in the feeling, his hands tangling in your hair and fingers pulling on it, guiding you up and down... and he just can't hold back from thrusting ever so slightly into it. you're just too good – and you bet he'll praise you for it.

p – pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

i think this can vary a bit, actually. fast and rough sometimes, slow but deep and hard other times. it's not often that he's on the sensual side, though it does happen every once in a while. but you bet he's going to pour all of his energy into it and make it real hot and needy, no matter the pace.

q – quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he definitely likes a good old quickie! you've both gotten quite used to them, especially during race weekends when you have a tight schedule. if you're really really tight on time, a quick blowjob does the job, too.

r – risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)

definitely. he loves trying new things to spice things up, and he's not shy to experiment and take a risk that maybe not everyone else would. he would adore having a partner who's as open to experimenting as he is, it would just make him feel so free and non-judged. if you get to see lando in his fully comfortable state, you'll definitely find him suggesting all kinds of things.

s – stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

lando is obsessed with you, so nothing can tire him out. he can last forever (or, at least so he thinks).

t – toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

as we've talked about already, lando is up for anything. bring up any kind of toys and he's sold. he's also really curious about how you please yourself when he's away, so you bet he will love watching you get off without him helping you out.

u – unfair (how much he likes to tease)

lando is definitely a big tease. pressing pecks all over your body except for where you really need and want him, fingers stroking up and down your sides a little too lightly for your taste; leaning back when you lean in to kiss him, pressing a finger to your lips with a silly grin on his lips; pulling out of you just as you're about to reach your climax, tilting his head and letting out a little "oh? you wanted to come? sorry, baby. you'll have to beg for it"....

this also happens, maybe even more, when you're in public. he doesn't care who's around; he knows you get a little extra tense and that you're easier to work up when you don't want anyone to know what lando is doing to you. his specialty is kneeling down and pretending to tie your shoelace or brush away some dirt from your heels, and when no one is looking, he makes sure to press a short trail of kisses right above your knee and up the inside of your thigh. it makes you react with the same wide eyes and speechlessness every time, and he loves it. almost as much as he loves seeing your friends ask you what's wrong.

v – volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)

lando is not scared of being loud, he's very very vocal during sex. he loves to moan, seeing it as a way to let you know how good he thinks you feel. he's the type to moan and groan even when he's the one doing the work; just watching your juices drip out of you brings a warm sensation to his chest because he's the one who did that. you react like that to him and only him.

he also loves to talk you through it. a lot of guiding, even though you already know what to do, and a lot of praise.

w – wild card (a random headcanon)

one thing lando thinks is the maybe hottest thing you can do is pull on his chains when he's wearing them... just yanking him towards you so that you can press your lips to his, it has him dead in seconds.

he also has a thing for seeing you wear necklaces or chains (esp his chains) because it reminds him of this other type of necklace that he loves seeing around your throat much more...

x – x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

he's a big boy for sure. thickness is his strongest suit but he's got some good length too.

y – yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

as i've said before, lando is obsessed with you, so he could have sex with you anytime anywhere. there's not going to be a time where he doesn't want to have sex with you.

z – zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterward)

i think it depends. if you've been at it for a while and he's very energetically drained, he'll be quick to fall asleep. but in some other cases, it takes him a long while to mentally calm down from his high and actually relax his mind. he'll be all pumped up.

[tracklessreason]

Hi. It's me again.

WHERE THE FRICK IS BUMBLEBEE?! Sorry, let me calm down and retry.

Thank you for answering my last ask, I can't help but notice how no one knows where Bee's ghost is. And Megatron is the one looking into the Matrix... Is he haunting Megatron? Trying to stop him from doing it? Helping him?

Is Optimus's ghost following Ratchet around like a sad puppy?

Also just the pairings- Jazz with Megatronus? THat sounds... like fun.

Do the primes miss the other Primes and ask their host if they can check on the other bots that got shrapeneled? Maybe one of them asks if they can find a way to talk with the others... or maybe they can talk trough the hosts... maybe... (ah ah possessed arc)

(PS I really vibe with Hive's whole deal, he is very cool :D and I'm devastated that I'm the one that discovered how he explodes)

Hug hug!

Hi again!!! Don't worry, Bee is still here!

His spirit is just...struggling. He's weak at first, flickering like a dying light bulb. He hasn't left the fractured core of the Matrix still in his corpse, but his soul signature is so weak no one can find him. He's just sort of trapped there for a while, in the burnt out room he died in. Until Megatron of course.

Megatron breaks into the autobot base, walks past every sleeping mech he could easily have snuffed, and steals the Matrix core, and by unintentional extension, steals Bumblebee. Now at first, Bee is rightfully upset. He hates being at the gloomy decepticon base, he hates Megatron for taking his voice, he's just mad. Time passes as Megatron tinkers with the core, and Bee regains strength enough to....throw things???

It shouldn't be possible. Somehow this unstable remnant of the Matrix doesn't contain him, but merely houses him, and as he grows stronger, he can appear as an apparition to Megatron. He uses it almost solely to hinder him. With no voice (even ghost Bee gets no respite) all he can really do is mess up Megatron's workspace and insult him through pantomime. Really he doesn't understand why Megatron puts up with it, but aside from the occasional fit of rage at his antics, the decepticon leader ignores him as much as possible and puts his all into trying to restore the Matrix.

Before long he starts having one sided conversations with Bumblebee. Its mostly complaints at first, and insults towards him and the autobots and whatever else goes wrong in his life outside of this little workshop Bee cant leave. It soon gives way to more private matters; intentionally or not, Megatron is revealing his very convoluted, very mixed feelings about Optimus Prime.

The war has gone on too long, why couldn't that idiot just see things from his perspective, he deserved to die, he will be brought back, how could his oldest friend just leave him like this...

To Bee it sounds...exactly like how Optimus felt about Megatron, just drowned in molten anger issues. Against his self preservation instinct, Bee decides to work towards putting this whole mess to bed. Nothing better to do.

With what limited knowledge and communication he has, he does his best to try and help Megatron fix the Matrix. They have spats still, and plenty of set backs, but things smooth over when Megatron (begrudgingly) admits to feelings of regret over taking Bee's voice. As an olive branch, Bee explains something to Megatron that he's been dying to know: how Optimus died.

Things sour fast. Megatron is determined to murder Starscream, Bee is frustratedly trying to explain that if he does so, this little partnership of convenience is over, and he will ensure that the Matrix is never restored. The end of the war relies almost solely on Megatron reeling in his damn anger, and Bee doesnt intend to allow any slip ups. He has no idea how this will end when Megatron leaves the workshop that night.

On the other side of things, the Primes are having a real...weird time?? The ones without hosts can communicate with each other, but the other four are basically cut off from all but their hosts. They don't have the ability to take control anymore, and even if they did, their hosts are nowhere near as easy to possess, nor as willing, as Hive Prime was. Ratchet especially has threatened to tear the Matrix metal from his frame and grind it to dust if Prima so much as thinks about trying it. The other three hosts are similarly put off.

Once again the Primes are relegated to giving advice, but it's not advice anyone seems to want, and yeah, it's mostly because of the wild pairings. Megatronus is constantly clutching his pearls over Jazz's laid-back attitude and deliberate ignorance of his wishes. Prima's calm rationality does little to temper Ratchet's snappy demeanor and only really gets on his nerves (how can you be so calm after what you all did?). Ironhide straight up refuses to acknowledge Quintus. Drift is probably the only one feeling alright with all this. Alpha Trion is generally reasonable, and isn't interested in having control over Drift's form, nor was he interested in it with Hive, so they just vibe like college roommates.

It's uncomfortable, but the Primes are used to sharing space. The worst part is actually sharing it with fewer mechs than usual. The Primes all miss each other to varying degrees, but for the most part are either too egotistical to admit it, or think it improper to mention.

Of course, grand prize for worst ghost time currently goes to Optimus. Dying, watching Bee suffer, feeling his friend's life force extinguish...

He might as well be a husk right now, full on silent treatment is all he's capable of at the moment. The other Primes know better than to try and speak with him. This is their doing to begin with, the channeling of their energy that strained Bee so heavily. Optimus follows the elected council around during the days, but at night he sits outside the room where Hive's body rests. He was there the night that Megatron broke in.

It takes immense effort to travel far enough out from the base to go see Megatron, and he needs several cycles to recover after every attempt, but he keeps doing it, knowing he could fade away permanently. When he gets there, he's too weak for Bee or Megatron to detect him. But he can hear their talks. He misses them both more than words can say.

(Sorry the response is so long, lol. This ask really got the gears turning in my head. I hope at least that makes up for being the one to find out that Ending 3 Hive dies bloody. I'm really flattered to hear you like him! For me that's quite high praise coming from you. Hug hug!)

[hyuuukais]

heyllo :3

can i request reader x chan? reader is overwhelmed but keeps it in because that’s what they see chan doing a lot of the time. but eventually it builds to a breaking point where the stress causes them to completely shut down. chan doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong so it might be cute if he just sits on the floor in front of reader and plays clips from a song he’s working on and asks for their opinion (by basically talking out loud to himself) and then after reader calms down they are able to verbalize they just need a human weighted blanket and to be told they are doing amazing and their efforts are not going unnoticed.

im fine. 🥲

just hold me, tell me you love me

pairing : chan x reader

notes : me vs the long title. anyway thank uuu for being my first request! i hope this lives up to ur expectations and can provide u some comfort 🫶 sending u hugs and love 🫂💙 sorry it's taken a bit long to get back to! kind of was getting this feeling myself and have been unable to write, but i think i'm getting back

warnings : reader is overwhelmed, mentions of anxiety, fear of opening up to someone, reader is called pet names (love, baby), reader breaks down

wc : 1.4k

All week there's been a growing pressure in your chest threatening to spill all over the floor and leave you a mess, lying on the ground with nothing else to give. Give, you've given all you can, and now that you're home, you can't do it anymore. You seek peace in the quiet of your shared bedroom, your boyfriend still at work in his studio.

Your boyfriend, who works hard day and night. Your boyfriend, who's loving and caring and sweet. Your boyfriend, who you're scared to open up to when things get really hard, because he doesn't share with you either. Although the relationship isn't fresh, going on a year and a half, there are still things you don't talk about. You don't want to burden him with your struggles when you've always been able to power through by yourself.

Fisting the sheets under you, you can feel the need to cry in your body, the hollow feeling in your chest and the tightness in your throat, but nothing comes. It's like your body knows you're too tired for even that simple of an action, for even one tear to slip. So instead, you sit the the blanket over you, face peeking out to stare at the wall with tired eyes. You can't sleep. If you close your eyes, you know you won't drift off and wake up feeling better, you'll just lie there for hours.

"Baby?"

Something spikes in you when you hear Chans voice ring out through the apartment, curling into yourself more. He shouldn't be home this early and yet, here he is, calling your name and wondering where you are; you're never in bed this early. Chan continues to call out for you until you hear the bedroom door opening quietly.

"Love?" Chans footsteps get closer, and you can feel the edge of the bed dip with his weight as he sits down. "My love..."

His hand brushes over your shoulder, but you can't face him. When you bring the blanket over your head more, he seems to get the hint, shifting to lean against the headboard next to the statue that is your body, unmoving and heavy. You can feel him fiddling beside you, and soon, a soft melody fills your ears. It's enough to distract you temporarily from the raging storm in your head, focusing on the beats, and when Chans voice comes through, it's like you can feel a sense of comfort washing over you. Although it's not enough to completely take these feelings away, you're grateful for what he's doing.

"This song has been giving me trouble," Chan comments over the music, sighing heavily. "I can't figure out if I like the chorus or not, and it feels like it's missing something in general, but I don't know what. What do you think, baby?"

Unable to answer verbally, but still wanting him to know you're listening, you roll around so you're facing him. He chuckles as you bury your face under his thigh when you see he's sitting cross-legged, the pressure on your face oddly comforting. Chan places a hand on your back, his arm resting behind your head as he rubs small circles over your thick layer of blanket. Another song starts playing after a while, another soft one, too. You relax under his touch, feeling the vibrations through his body as he hums along to this one and makes occasional comments about changes he'd like to make.

Exhaustion hits you like a ton of bricks, your eyes fluttering shut as he keep playing different songs and telling you all about them. Both of you are aware that he shouldn't be playing so much unreleased music, but all Chan cares about in this moment is you, helping you, calming you, loving you. The company will never know anyway.

"Chan," You whisper, voice barely audible. His humming stops and he pauses the music, looking down at your limp form with furrowed brows. Moving your head slightly, you're able to look up at him on an angle, the cool air of the bedroom breaching your blanket cocoon.

"What is it, baby?" Chan moves some hair from your face, leaving this palm to rest on your cheek.

"Can you just-" You clear your throat, one hand coming up to play with the hem of his shorts at his knee to calm you more. "Just hold me, tell me you love me?"

Without words, he shifts down to your level and nods. Carefully, Chan guides you to face away from him and brings you close to his body, your back pressed tightly against his chest. His chin rests on your shoulder, now enveloped inside your blanket as he holds onto you tightly, scared that if he let's go, you'll fade away. The thought of you being in so much pain, whether physical or emotional, is something he can't bear; he can't sit on the sidelines and watch you wither away. Neither of you speak as you lie there for what feels like hours, although it must only be a few minutes. The feeling of Chan's breath on your neck is oddly comforting, your own hands finding his arm around your waist and holding onto him.

Something about the way Chan is holding you, comforting you without the pressure of being asked what's wrong, has you finally breaking down. It starts small, holding back a few tears, but a few escaping despite your efforts. Then Chan shifts closer, pressing soft lips on the skin behind your ear.

"I love you, you know that? So, so much," He whispers, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he buries his face into your hair. "You're doing amazing, baby, and I mean that. I thought... I thought something might have been wrong, but I didn't know how to go about this. I'm sorry it got to this point, I should have asked. I want you to know you can always turn to me, okay?"

His words have the dam breaking and soon enough, the sobs ripping from your chest have you gasping and hiccupping like there's no tomorrow. You don't register the way Chan tries to soothe you as he pulls you around and into his chest. Subconsciously, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and roll his body onto yours, his head sitting in the crook of your neck. The weight feels nice, grounding, and you can finally hear Chan speaking again.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay." Chan whispers into the skin of your neck, one of his hands smoothing back your hair. "You're okay, I'm here, now breathe, alright? Breathe, baby."

He inhales deeply, and you do your best to mimic his movements. It's shaky, but you're doing it.

"Good job, you're doing great," Chan keeps his voice low as he speaks. "Keep breathing."

It gets to the point where you don't need to think about breathing anymore, your head throbbing slightly from the sudden outburst of emotion. Chan's body stays on yours, but he props himself up enough to look at you, his palm on your cheek and his thumb wiping away any remaining tears. You can barely look him in the eye.

All he does is stare at you with those pretty, dark eyes, but you realize there's a dampness under them matching yours. You open your mouth to question it, but he shakes his head, a soft smile on his face.

"I don't want you to be in pain alone ever again." His thumb continues to caress your cheek, even though the tears have dried. "I love you too much to let you go through that. Whatever's going on, tell me when you're ready, yeah? For now, just let me gush about my beautiful partner until they're feeling better."

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you as Chan surges up to pepper your face in kisses, saying praises in between each one. With every kiss, you can feel your face heating up until you try and cover it, but he just grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away. Eventually, he slows down, pressing one last kiss directly on your lips, and settles back onto you.

"Let's stay like this for a while," Chan suggests, knowing you need it, but so does he. "My favourite place is in your arms."

-

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom

[mrslaflour]

📸 cheese babe.

pairing — taehyun x reader

warnings — noncon filming, restraints, reader is drugged tf out, taehyun totally just cum shotted all over reader, somnophilia things but no sex scene, didn’t proof read shit, all lowercase

notes — VERY QUICK DRABBLE. yes, yes i did post this before grape party kai. this is a tiny drabble to hold you over that i just scribbled down basically :p.

you feel numb. tingles spreading throughout your whole body but you can’t move a single muscle. your eyes can only part slightly, everything else remaining blurry. god, how late is it? was this just another late night nap? you hear a click and then a bright flash come through your eyes causing you to groan.

“you’re awake?”

another voice. in your room? you live alone. you go to speak up but nothing comes out. nothing can come out. it’s like your tongue is just dead and your lips refuse to fully part. you go to sit up but even that task isn’t possible. your arms are stuck behind your back, you finally notice that. but still. you should be able to lift your chest. now you’re worried and your breathing becomes heavier and more strained. it wasn’t until you felt a cold hand press against your chest that you realized you probably were naked. you say probably considering that fact that you can’t move your head to look and you can barely see out of your eyes in the first place.

“you’re my muse for the night. you’re drugged the fuck out though, so if you’re freaking out due to the sensory issues, there’s your answer.”

a man’s voice. that’s all you could get out of what he just said. well, other than the fact that he definitely either kidnapped you or has you out in the back of an alley, once again, you’re literally in the dark. it’s starting to even become difficult to think straight. he moves his hand from your chest and brushes a hair behind your ear.

“i’ll show you the pictures when i’m done and well, when you’re not so out of it.”

he moves away and you hear a few more clicks and see a few more flashes. your eyes shut, and you decide to keep them like that. you feel him push you onto your back and spread your legs open. feeling an extremely cold breeze against your sex. you hear him mumble a few things, but you can’t make them out.

“can you smile?”

it’s silent. you can’t respond and he just laughs. you feel what feels like a giant weight on top of you and two fingers prodding at the corners of your mouth pushing it into a smile and the click of his camera again. that noise was gonna drive you crazy. you feel his arms move lower and start rubbing your sides and gliding through your collarbone.

“i could really have my way with you right now. don’t have to worry about you bitching, screaming for me to stop, pushing me away…”

he pauses.

“but that would be too easy. a struggle is always fun.”

he slaps you and tilts his head to the side with a questioning look on his face.

“could you feel that? are you still there?”

you slightly open your eyes and the tiniest tear pokes out. he hums in content.

“assuming you can hear me, just know you shouldn’t piss me off. i’m not afraid to kill you. it’s not hard for me to find someone new.”

he stands up off of you and you close your eyes again once the camera flash blinds you again. you feel him go to mess with your wrists and the slightest bit of tension seems to be released. he has a hold on one of your wrists and moves it over to your crotch and your other hand to your breast. moving you around like a doll.

“say cheese…”

another click. another flash.

“you look like a fucked out drunk little bimbo. i should live stream this and have people tell me what i should do to you. would give me some more ideas of what positions to put you in for my photos.”

you’re passed out. well…not completely. you can feel everything he’s doing, hear everything, but you can’t think anymore, and you can’t even open your eyes anymore. more tingles bouncing throughout your body.

the sound of a different button can be heard as well as the sound of the camera being placed on the floor. you hear his footsteps come closer to you and the sound of a zipper.

“i know i said it’d be too easy but i have plenty of chances to let you play hard to get after this.”

you hear him groan a couple times before you feel something cold dripping on your stomach and slowly moving up to your face.

“what a shot. can you say cheese for the video?”

he leans down and you feel his hand touch your face before he moves your face on its side. presumably so you can face said camera. you then feel full all the sudden. a sense of splitting in you and you groan. the feeling starts to become painful.

“sh, just lay there and look pretty and let me do all the work.”

he goes deeper in you as he moves up more so he can put his finger on the corner of your lips and moves it up into a smile again.

“say cheese!”

[gibberishfangirl]

Hello! I'd like to request Bofurin (and anyone else if you'd like) with reader who's very feminine

Pink dresses, bows everywhere, sunshine energy.. You get it

WIND BREAKER | dating the coquette girly

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of the boys dating a girly coquette sunshine girl who is aesthetically pleasing

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Mitsuki Kiryu, Toma Higari, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! boys being mesmerized, cute content of them admiring your style

★ a/n <3 : I LOVE THIS. i love all my cute girly girls out there. i envisioned a coquette aesthetic/style when i first saw your request so i ran with it! hope you don’t mind and this is what you were also thinking <3 ★

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 your style makes him more bashful

𝜗𝜚 he’s very protective over you

𝜗𝜚 fights off any creeps whose eyes linger on you for too long

𝜗𝜚 “stop staring, it’s creepy.”

𝜗𝜚 loves how nice, gentle, and optimistic you are

𝜗𝜚 you’re the only person he has photos of saved onto his phone

𝜗𝜚 blushes and stares at his phone for hours whenever you send him selfies

𝜗𝜚 “what are you looking at Sakura?” “nothing!”

𝜗𝜚 such a shy blushing mess whenever you happen to wear sundresses or short skirts

𝜗𝜚 on guard 24/7 wanting to make sure no one else is looking at you inappropriately

𝜗𝜚 his favorite season quickly becomes spring since it reminds him of you

𝜗𝜚 secretly loves whenever you take his phone and snap cute selfies of yourself (he constantly has a new wallpaper because of this)

𝜗𝜚 100% gets teased by his friends for having so many photos of you

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 matches your energy perfectlyy

𝜗𝜚 you two bounce off each other so well

𝜗𝜚 loves how cute you are

𝜗𝜚 literally plants flowers that remind him of you

𝜗𝜚 loves to take pics of you with his plants (hello?? pics of his favorite things on earth together? consider him obsessed)

𝜗𝜚 he’s obsessed with you

𝜗𝜚 loves to show all the cute photos he has of you to his friends

𝜗𝜚 bro is literally kicking his feet and giggling over you

𝜗𝜚 his mood instantly gets better with you around

𝜗𝜚 is even happier once he finds out you and Kotoha get along

𝜗𝜚 strongly convinced that he will marry you in the future

𝜗𝜚 tempted to propose now

𝜗𝜚 loves to watch you get ready and do cute hairstyles on yourself

𝜗𝜚 learns how to do ponytails so he can help you with your little half up half down pigtail hair-do’s (hopefully i made that make sense LOL sorry if i didn’t)

𝜗𝜚 you can practically see heart shapes in his eyes whenever he looks at you

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 fell in love at first sight

𝜗𝜚 he was star struck when he first saw you

𝜗𝜚 you’re literally his ideal type

𝜗𝜚 loves how pleasing you are to look at and be around

𝜗𝜚 has a hard time believing you’re real

𝜗𝜚 100000% will let you put bows in his hair

𝜗𝜚 keeps a close eye on you since he doesn’t want you to get bothered by anyone

𝜗𝜚 takes you on the cutest dates ever

𝜗𝜚 takes the cutest pics of you during your dates

𝜗𝜚 will ask you to send him selfies everyday

𝜗𝜚 his social media accounts are basically fan accounts of you

𝜗𝜚 sweetest couple alive

𝜗𝜚 your gentle energy matches well with his

𝜗𝜚 is slightly taken back by how genuine you are (in a good way)

𝜗𝜚 has the urge to protect you from the world

𝜗𝜚 constantly thinks about how lucky he was to cross paths with you and be your boyfriend

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 being the fashionista he is, he loves your outfits

𝜗𝜚 is in love with the aesthetic and totally gets the picture

𝜗𝜚 will help you plan out your outfits on facetime

𝜗𝜚 still can’t fathom why someone like you would choose someone like him

𝜗𝜚 feels lucky you to have you and never takes you for granted

𝜗𝜚 he always assumed someone as cute as you would go for a guy more like Suo or Kiryu, so he feels special that you wanted him

𝜗𝜚 loves to go shopping with you

𝜗𝜚 buys any cute item he sees because it reminds him of you

𝜗𝜚 expect him to gift you tons of things due to that

𝜗𝜚 “here i got you this because it made me think of you!” (CUTEST BOY)

𝜗𝜚 will always defend you if anyone says anything

𝜗𝜚 literally becomes your personal photographer

𝜗𝜚 you guys are such couple goals on social media

𝜗𝜚 blushes whenever you’re very caring towards him

𝜗𝜚 you help boost his confidence since you always have so many positive things to say about him

Mitsuki Kiryu ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 have you seen this man? he lovesss your style

𝜗𝜚 thinks you’re the most precious thing to ever exist

𝜗𝜚 he loves to hold your hand in public and show you off

𝜗𝜚 spends most of his day resting his cheek on his hand while admiring your cuteness

𝜗𝜚 will match with you if you ask

𝜗𝜚 will twirl you around so he can watch your cute dresses/skirts flow in the air

𝜗𝜚 brags about how cute his girlfriend is to others

𝜗𝜚 compliments you whenever he has the chance

𝜗𝜚 takes so many pictures of you

𝜗𝜚 his phone screen is definitely a photo of you dressed up all cute in a field of flowers

𝜗𝜚 loves to fix up the bows in your hair

𝜗𝜚 won’t mind if you ever ask to put a bow on him

𝜗𝜚 both you share love for the color pink

𝜗𝜚 loves it when you sit on his lap during hang outs so everyone knows your his

𝜗𝜚 of course no one is surprised to find out how adorable Kiryu’s girlfriend is

Toma Higari ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 he’s very shy about how polar opposites you two look

𝜗𝜚 no one really saw you two coming

𝜗𝜚 you’re like a breath of fresh air to him

𝜗𝜚 loves how peaceful you are in comparison to his chaotic lifestyle

𝜗𝜚 you live in bliss as your boyfriend practically scares off anyone from messing with you

𝜗𝜚 feels refreshed being around you

𝜗𝜚 seriously you’re like a glass of cool water on a hot day to him that’s how much you affect him

𝜗𝜚 loves how caring you are about him and those around you

𝜗𝜚 your hopeful attitude rubs off on him after hanging out with you consistently

𝜗𝜚 definitely has a problem with anyone who makes any weird or sly comments about you or your relationship with him

𝜗𝜚 has no problem defending you in any case

𝜗𝜚 gets very flustered by your wardrobe choices at times

𝜗𝜚 might want you to change sometimes if your skirt is too short

𝜗𝜚 will consider beating up any guy who looks at you

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 he’s a sly dog

𝜗𝜚 100% checks you out when you’re not looking (hell, he’s doing that even if you’re looking)

𝜗𝜚 loves how dainty and delicate you look in comparison to him

𝜗𝜚 he’s all over you 24/7 even if it’s just casually hugging you from behind

𝜗𝜚 definitely makes sure everyone knows your his girl

𝜗𝜚 very protective over you

𝜗𝜚 won’t be afraid to check anyone if they’re being inappropriate towards you

𝜗𝜚 finds you very sweet for being so nice to him and being very considerate of him

𝜗𝜚 ruins your outfits by making you wear his jacket over them

𝜗𝜚 he thinks his jacket makes you look cuter with the way it swallows you

𝜗𝜚 makes you wear his jacket because it shows to others you’re his and it makes people back off

𝜗𝜚 encourages your clothing choices

𝜗𝜚 “wear whatever you want, i can fight.” (HEAVY ON THIS ENERGY)

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 has the same “wear whatever you want, i can fight.” energy

𝜗𝜚 be careful, he will literally beat anyone into a pulp if they look at you funny, talk about you vulgarly, hits on you, etc. all he needs is just one reason

𝜗𝜚 he doesn’t really understand fashion but thinks you’re beautiful

𝜗𝜚 loves how confident you are and how you know exactly who you are

𝜗𝜚 admires how much effort you put into getting ready

𝜗𝜚 always wants to take you out to lunch, dinner, the movies, anywhere he can just so he can see what new cute outfits you can come up with

𝜗𝜚 compliments you 24/7

𝜗𝜚 will ask you to put your hair accessories on him

𝜗𝜚 definitely the dresses up gf and dresses down bf couple

𝜗𝜚 he actually likes how much you stick out when you’re next to him

𝜗𝜚 always wants to suffocate you in hugs after he sees how adorable you look that day

𝜗𝜚 two peas in a pod

𝜗𝜚 you both radiate the same energy at times

𝜗𝜚 you help him stay at a happy place, if he ever feels himself feeling sad again you’re always there to grab his hand and pull him right out <3

[multixxfandom]

Dancing in the Shadows

pairing: josh washington x fem!reader (no use of y/n) warning: suggestive/explicit (MDNI) genre: enemies to lovers/rivals word count: 4,246 proofread: no :/ (needs it) requests: open a/n: this is a long one, buckle up. (I'm such a yapper)

You and Josh had been long-established rivals. No matter what it was, you always seemed to find yourselves neck-to-neck in competition. You had gone to the same school as him since middle, so escaping the boy seemed nearly impossible.

Academics, sports, socializing, even board games. The subject mattered not, but Josh always seemed to find ways to pry his fingers onto the idea of success and disturb your path. He even threatened to attend the same college and major the same as you. Joke or not, he knew how to get under your skin, and you despised him.

The worst part? You and Josh shared the exact same friend group. If escaping him ever looked feasible, it was absolutely crushed now.

"Seriously, you need to come with," Ashley continued to speak through your phone speaker. She was going on a ten-minute tangent to try her best to convince you to take part in the group's movie night at the Washington's mountain lodge.

Josh's lodge.

The eye-rolling couldn't be stopped.

"Look, I love you guys, but you know how I hate being around Josh for long-extended time, unnecessary at that. In a confined space would be the death of me, truth," you answer, phone on speaker as you paint polish on your nails. Baby pink.

"You've been to the lodge before. It's huge, no confinement there," Ash counters.

No matter what problem you presented, she always seemed to find a solution.

"Besides, it's not like it'll be just you and Josh. Everyone is coming," she adds, as if it's the cherry on top.

With a sigh of defeat and a reluctance, you give in. "Fine, but I swear if Josh does anything to-" "I know, I know. We hear it all the time after he beats you in everything," Ashley jokes, a smirk obvious.

"I can change my mind," you half-jokingly threat.

"Nope, too late. I'm hanging up. Pack, Chris and I are coming!" Ashley practically yells. With a click, the room falls silent, minus your heater and the sound of you blowing on your nails.

As you pack your weekend bag, thoughts begin to swirl your mind.

After all, it was only a movie night. Where's the competition in that? You couldn't think of anything less competitive than a night-in, watching movies and snacking with friends.

But deep down, you knew Josh, and you knew that it never mattered; he would find a way to one-up you.

　　. •　　　✧　　　*　✧　　　·　.　　·　.　·*　*　　·　　　°.　　

"I'm serious, he just likes messing with you, nothing else," Chris advices, driving you three to Josh's lodge.

You were discussing Josh's behavior towards you, the relentless pestering and the constant head-to-head moments. The list went on and on, and the nervous pit in your stomach grew the closer you got to the lodge. The closer you were to Josh. How would he be when you first arrive? What would he say? Do?

"Or, crazy theory here, maybe he likes, likes you," Ashley adds, a mischievous smirk plastered on her face from the passenger seat. Even from the back seat, you can see the teasing looks on their faces.

"So untrue," is all you can say. Disbelief has taken over you.

Josh, Josh Always-teasing-and-getting-under-your-skin Washington...liking you?

"We're basically enemies, always neck-to-neck," you argue back, rolling your eyes at the suggestion. Still, it catches your attention, the theory intriguing. Could he feel that way towards you?

"He probably likes the idea of neck-to-neck, if you get what I'm saying," Chris jokes, earning a fake-disgust look from Ashley and a gasp of insult from you.

"You guys couldn't be more wrong," you say as you lean your head back against the headrest.

In what feels like a matter of minutes, you three have parked the car and have started the mini hike to reach Josh's lodge. You couldn't tell if the prickling sensation of anxiety was out of excitement to see your friends or was dread to see what Josh had planned for you.

"Well, well, well. Took you guys long enough." Josh stands at the lodge's entrance, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

You make eye contact for a fleeting moment as you approach, and your heart seems to flutter. You break the contact quickly as you walk up the steps.

"Wow, you came out your cave just for me?" he jokes, fluttering his eye lashes in an obnoxious-sarcastic way.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're not the only one with friends," you fire back, Josh placing a hand on his heart and making a fake face of pain.

"Wasting no time for the animosity, I see. Guess you can beat me at something," Josh teases, tilting his head to the side.

"Can we just go in, already? It's freezing," Ashley intercepts. Her arms cling to her frame as she stares at you for an answer, leaving you speechless for a comeback towards Josh.

"Call it even?" Josh teases, stepping out of the way to the entrance. A smug look appears on his face as he turns to talk to Chris, leaving you and Ashley alone to find your rooms.

"Did you see the look on his face? He totally likes you," Ashley whispers, playfully poking you in the side as you two make your way down the twirling hallway, listening to Beth's orders of where each of your rooms were.

"You call that flirting, Ash?" you question, mostly in a rhetorical way.

If that's flirting, Josh definitely needs to practice, you think to yourself as you place your bag on the bed in the room you call dibs on, unaware of who's room was across the hall. Josh's room.

"I hope the storm isn't too bad tonight," Sam exclaims as she sprawls out onto your bed, lifting her head to stare at you and smile.

"Hey, Sam," you offer, leaning over your bag to gather your pjs. Even though it was freezing, and a winter storm was not far from making its appearance, the parka shielding you from the cold was not the most comfortable thing to watch movies in.

You head off to the bathroom, hearing Hannah's announcement, in the distance, of regrouping back in the living room in thirty minutes.

　. •　　　✧　　　*　✧　　　·　.　　·　.　·*　*　　·　　　°.　　

"What genre should we go with?"

The time was nearing 11:30 pm, and the conversation finally landed on movies.

So far, Josh hadn't been as bad as you expected. Sure, he constantly insisted on playing against you in the video games, cheated his way towards victory in board games against you, and even found ways to one-up you in academics, asking you about GPAs, grades, etcetera.

But he still couldn't make you budge. No matter how hard he integrated, how relentless he competed, he still couldn't get under your skin. With every snarky remark that left his lips, you countered with one right back. So far, the playing field was even, and going by the irritated look on Josh's face, it seemed you were in the lead.

"Romance," Jessica offers, earning grunts of disapproval from the guys.

"No girly flics, please, for the love of God," Mike complains, earning a slap on the chest from Jess.

"I think horror," Matt suggests.

"You just want to rile them up again, so you can watch them argue," Emily says, waving her finger between you and Josh, both horror-movie fanatics.

Matt just raises his hands in an innocent way and shrugs his shoulders.

"No argument here; it's obvious I have the better horror selection, right?" Josh asks, looking at you for approval, knowing he won't receive any.

"If there's anything I know more about than you, it's horror," you spit back, earning a deep chuckle from Josh.

"Just go fight about it in Josh's room until you guys decide on one, jeez," Chris says, leaning back against the couch with his hand behind his head. "My popcorn is getting cold, and watching you fight isn't that entertaining."

"Fine, we'll see," Josh says, standing up from his spot on the couch and staring down, hovering above you as he waits for you to follow, tilting his head towards the hallway to his room. "Follow, my fair madam." "You make me sick," you mumble under your breath, pushing your way in front of Josh to get to his room first.

"Never had someone this eager before to be in my room," Josh speaks from behind you, his tall and lean figure following as the group's voices fade into background noise, inaudible amongst your's and Josh's in-rhythm footsteps.

"Like you've brought any girls into your room, Joshy," you scuff, teasing him with a nickname the group uses.

Why did I just use it, though, You ask no one but yourself.

The moment you stepped foot into Josh's room, your eyes were drawn to the shelves filled with dvds. The Washington kids' father was a movie director, so it was fitting for this huge selection; Josh always seemed to be the most intrigued in that lifestyle.

"Speechless?" Josh teasingly asks, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you intensely, his stare almost burning a hole in the back of your head as your fingers trace across the cases' spines.

"Maybe a little jealous, can't lie," you say, a wave of sudden honesty washing over you. Your eyes are too locked on scanning every title in sight, you don't even notice Josh joining you, his presence appearing suddenly.

"You should be; just proves I definitely know about movies more than you," Josh says, his words coming out in almost a trailing hushed-tone, banter leaking from his words.

"Leave it to Josh to always see competition in everything" you say, stealing a quick glance from him before you pick up a dvd titled, "The Shining."

"Think this will freak Jess out," you ask, looking up at Josh as he stares down, almost in a new way, more intense.

"I was thinking maybe more of something like 'The Ring,'" Josh offers in return, reaching an arm around you to grab the dvd.

His arm slightly brushes against your shoulder, and now you're hyper-aware of the sudden lack of space between you and Josh, how close he was. You could smell the mixture of cologne and soap on his skin, having showered previously. His eyes scanned your face in a frantic way, going from your eyes to your lips to looking away.

You felt...flushed? Confused even, especially with the sudden burn in your core, something eager and desperate blossoming inside you, something you've never felt towards Josh.

Suddenly, a smirk grows visible on Josh's face, inches away from yours, and his eyes go to look at something behind you.

"Nah, more like 'The Texas Chain Saw Massacre." That'll totally freak Jess, you think?" Josh asks, reaching behind you to select the dvd. He was acting as if nothing just occurred, as if this was some way to get to you, get under your skin.

Without saying a single word, Josh walks out the bedroom, stopping right at the doorway to look back and say, "Are you coming, or are you too flushed?"

Oh, so this was the game he wanted to play? Fine.

　. •　　　✧　　　*　✧　　　·　.　　·　.　·*　*　　·　　　°.　　

"Ugh, can we please just turn this off already?" Jessica complains, hiding her eyes behind her hands, Chris and Mike shushing her as they continue to delve into their popcorn.

The living room's tv glow illuminates the space, cascading a soft blue across everyone's faces, excluding Hannah and Sam, who already resided to their beds to sleep.

Beside you, of all people, sat Josh, his arm resting on the back of the couch just behind your head. He was doing this on purpose. If he could't get under your skin, in your head, with his usual banter and competitiveness, he was the exact type to resort to flirting.

It was new, though, never-before explored territory. You guys had always been passive-aggressive and cutthroat with one another for as long as anyone could remember. This behavior had always seemed to be off-limits between you two, though.

But if Josh wanted to act this way, who were you to let him do it so easily?

You started small, doing almost unnoticeable actions.

Inching closer to him, acting "scared," leaning your head against his arm.

When you realized it wasn't having as much of an effect on him the same way he had on you, wasn't enough, your measures grew more extreme, more desperate now, than ever before, to get Josh Washington hot and flustered.

"Joshy," you whisper to him, sat on the couch, hidden behind most of the group. You look up at him through your eyelashes as his eyes flicker down to you, his face glowing.

"Mhm?" he hums, eyes now back on the screen.

"I'm getting cold, can we share your blanket?"

His eyes suddenly dart down at you, and for a split second, you almost think he's cracking and see an opportunity to squeeze your way in.

"Yeah, sure," he whispers, opening up the blanket for you to join in.

You shuffler closer to him, leaning your head on his chest as you do your best to snuggle up to him. You feel his breath hitch, and a smirk appears on your lips.

You wrap your arms around his waist, and ask "Is this okay?" You speak in a low, seductive tone. Josh's heartbeat was almost audible.

Josh stares down at you for a second before answering, drinking in the details of your face. You take notice of how his eyes seem to trace the lines of your lips.

"Yeah, I wanna do whatever makes you comfortable," he answers, winking before his attention goes right back to the movie.

Unbelievable, you think, your eyes doing the same.

As time trials on, it seems that you will never be able to crack Josh, anger of his victory bubbling inside you. You can just envision it now: that stupid smile on his face. He was sat as you laid your head on his lap. This new closeness earned the occasional glance from the rest of the group.

If you only knew, you thought.

A hand begins running itself through your hair, realization sinking in that the mysterious hand obviously belongs to Josh. The gentle, soft touch contrasts to Josh's constant banter and coldness; when his hand moves the hair out of your neck and travels lower down your back, a shiver is sent down your spine.

He's good, and he's winning.

Small circles are traced on your back, his hand blocked by the cloth of your shirt. God, why were you wishing you wore something thinner, almost craving the sensation of his fingertips as they lit fires on your skin?

You dry swallow and try your best to focus back on the movie, feeling Josh's eyes switch between the glowing screen and your face, waiting for a reaction.

An idea sparks inside your mind, and you begin to rub Josh's thigh, moving your hand up and down in a slow, sensual way; your eyes were locked on the screen, but you could see the puzzled look on Josh's face as he observed the motion of your hand.

A smirk grew as you could visibly see Josh getting nervous as your hand crept closer up each rub. This was finally your chance.

"Is this bothering you?" you ask flirtingly, looking up at Josh. His skin, even in the dim room, is a slight red.

"Not at all," he says, and you can't believe you're actually making him hot and bothered. He shifts as he readjusts himself.

Suddenly, Josh's hand detaches from your back and lands on your thigh, rubbing up and down as he stares back to watch the movie. His hand dips lower and a squeeze is felt on your ass.

You jolt, and a dark chuckle is heard from Josh. That burning, eager feeling in your core returns, and you become flushed again. Failure sinks back in as Josh takes the lead once more, but you're left with more than just the feeling of losing; the feeling of lust seems to be growing with every movement between you two.

It's all too much, the touching, the thoughts in your head, Josh's stare, his touch, his lips, his body, the flushed feeling. In a split second, you push Josh's hand off you, retreating your own, rip the blanket of your warm skin, grab your parka from a hook, and head for the back porch.

"Where are you going, it's the best part?" Chris calls to you, trying his best not to disturb the others, Ashley seeming to have drifted off to sleep against his shoulder.

"Just going out for a smoke- don't wait for me," you answer, grabbing your pack of cigs and a lighter from a near coffee table.

You slip on your boots, Chris mumbling a quiet "weirdo," and gently slide open the back door that opens way to the back porch, feeling Josh's stare burning in the back of your head.

The cold winter wind splashes a wave of coolness over your body, stinging as it fights the warmth off from within the walls. The porch is decorated with bits of outside seating, a long couch pushed against the porch's fence, on the right side of the door.

You reside there as you light a cigarette, its red-orangish glow lighting up your face in the midst of the mountain's darkness, the wind and snow roaring just beyond the lodge. You look out to your right, taking in the landscape as your mind vibrates with thoughts.

"This is insane," you say aloud, your words being whisked away in the cold cloud that leaves your lips.

Never before had much ever seemed to be off-limits when it came to one-upping one another. However, this was different; it was all so sudden, new: the touching, the flirting. It was starting to feel less like a competition to win and more like a competition to get into each other's pants. The idea of being enemies was starting to feel foreign; the line between play-pretend and reality was starting to be blurred into real, vulnerable, raw lust.

"What's up with you?" Josh's voice breaks the silence of the fierce wind and your internal conflict. Of course he would follow you.

Your head snaps to the left, and there Josh stands, his skin wrapped in his own winter coat. A blanket hangs in his hands. "Nothing's up," you offer, shrugging your shoulders as you look back out to the landscape.

"You only smoke when something's bothering you, idiot," he counters, taking a seat beside you. He droops a little, his long legs resting open as he props an arm behind you. You sit with your legs crossed underneath you as Josh wraps the blanket around you.

"Share?" he asks, and you pass the cigarette to him. Snow catches in each other's hair, lingering snowflakes residing in Josh's eyelashes.

"Came to rub in your victory, I'm guessing?" you ask, half-joking but also half-serious. What other reason would beckon Josh to join you? It's so in-character for him to follow you out in the freezing cold just to prance.

He takes a long drag before he answers. "What victory?" He tilts his head back, blowing smoke out into the abyss that is the starry night sky.

"You can stop playing stupid, Josh," you advise, watching him carefully.

"If anything, I'd think we were even at this point," he says, turning to stare at you as he lays his head against the couch's cushion. A glint lights up behind his eyes; you aren't sure what it's calling for, but it makes your core tingle with anticipation.

"What're you saying?" Your heartbeat races as you await an answer.

"Every good competition needs a tie-breaker," Josh says, his hand reaching underneath to feel your body, finding its place on your thigh.

"And how do you suggest we do that, Joshy?" you ask, your voice shaking with desire.

"I bet I can make you cum first."

Josh's bluntness catches you off-guard, you almost choke as you dry swallow. That familiar feeling of craving returns, deepening as blood rushes through your veins, excitement dancing on your skin as your core burns.

Without missing a bit, you rip the blanket off of you and climb onto Josh, his hands finding their place at your ass after he puts out the cigarette. Your lips connect in a hot, steamy second. It's not soft or gentle; it's rough, as if the anger between you two found its way to lust. 

Desire ignites between you two as Josh's tongue parts your lips. He squeezes at your ass as moans of approval escape the gates of your mouth.

You run your hand through Josh's hair and tug, deepening the kiss. His lips detach from yours, and you finally see the look in his eyes. They burn with an intense, unspoken hunger, shared between you.

"You taste so fucking good," Josh says in-between breathy exhales.

He brushes your hair aside, and focuses on your neck. He licks and sucks, biting when you whimper for more. It was all so hot, filling that yearn you felt for far too long.

"Get on your knees," Josh suddenly speaks, tugging at your parka, "and take this off. I wanna see you.” Josh’s words are hot and steamy, making your core pulsate with desperation to feel him.

You do as told and look up at Josh, the winter’s snowfall cascading just behind him as the light catches his face in just the right way, its glow delicately blue and buzzing. The wind stings as it hits your bare skin.

The sound of Josh's belt unbuckling makes your stomach flutter with excitment.

 He lifts up to pull down his clothing, and you gulp when his member practically pops out. You never doubted the size of Josh- what, with all his tense, built figure- but you definitely underestimated him. You blush. 

"Scared of a challenge?" Josh asks, taking his cock in his hand and stroking softly, almost teasing you as he remains eye contact. 

"I can take it." you say, glaring at him before you replace his hand with yours. 

"I want you to look at me while you try," Josh says, again, relentless with his remarks. That cocky smirk, one you've grown far too familiar with, appears on his face, and you just want to shut him up already. 

You start slow, teasingly swirling your tongue on his tip, watching him, Josh throws his head back as he hisses with pleasure. 

"Fuck, not wasting time," he manages to mumble in-between his deepening, jagged breaths. 

You take in the sight of him: needy, vulnerable, and aching with desire. It makes you want him even more. 

"Please take me whole already," Josh says, thrusting his hips closer, but you push them back down. 

"Thought you didn't wanna lose?" you jokingly ask, stroking him painfully slow. 

"I just want your mouth on my body right now." You open your mouth wide to be able to fit all of him, and you take him whole, stroking what you can't manage to fit in. 

Josh's hands clench your hair as he thrusts his hips up and down into your mouth, the sound of you gagging and his moans fading into the bitter atmosphere. 

You bob your head up and down, practically drooling over his member. You reach down into your own bottoms, having the urgency to release some of your own needs. However, Josh notices, and immediately, he pulls you off his member. 

"Sit on me," he says, pulling you up. 

Your stomach flip-flops with eagerness. Everything was all moving so fast, you would have never believed you'd be with Josh, sharing this kind of moment. 

He helps you pull down your bottoms, teasing you as he strips off your panties.

You align yourself over Josh's cock, Josh holding his member up to your opening as he slowly slides in, you sitting gently as you adjust to the size. 

"Shit, shit," you say, throwing your head back in burning pleasure. 

When he was finally in all the way, it felt like your entire body was on fire as Josh holds onto your ass, thrusting as you saddle his lap. Your bodies were moving in perfect unison. His eyes watch your every action, his hands squeezing and touching every inch of your body, igniting that fire. 

The sound of skin-on-skin fills your ears, along-side the sounds of moans and begging, as Josh's movements become more sloppy, rough, and intense. It was getting more messy and wet with each passing second. 

Josh's hard, throbbing cock pumps faster and faster, that feeling in your pit growing deeper and closer to the edge. You dig your nails into Josh's shoulders as his head burrows into your neck, biting and sucking as you bounce harder. Your core was burning with each thrust, and before you know it, you feel yourself ready to release that built-up pressure. 

"Josh," you whimper, throwing your head back as he supports you. 

"Do it," is all he says, and your body does it on command; you clench around him and all the tension oozes from your body. Josh lets out moans of pleasure, twitching inside you as he pulls you closer, if that was even possible. 

You practically fall into Josh's arms as you climb off him. You both begin to redress yourselves, and that's when you see that stupid look on Josh's face. 

"I win." 

a/n: midterms (rly, college in general) have been kicking my ass, so I apologize for not uploading in a while/frequently. forgive me <3