#that he honest to god tries to shake his hand...

[mlmxreader]

A Clown That Reeks | Art the Clown x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hii I saw you write for art the clown and I was wondering if I could request something?:o

Okie so like, art coming "home" (mreader's house that he invaded lmao) all giddy and excited and covered in blood and gore and god's knows what else, throwing himself at reader and getting him too dirty. Ending up in reader setting up a bath for himself and art to share!:P (after washing off art in the shower first shkhfbhffhf)

Can be completely sfw or get a bit nsfw, your choice! ❞

: ̗̀➛ Art comes home to you, and he makes your quiet night into something a little more eventful.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ mentions of gore, swearing, mentions of murder, nudity (non-sexual)

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

"The door is open! Do not break my fucking window again!"

You were hoping for a quiet night in, if you were honest; you had been run ragged the past few days and you really, really just wanted nothing more than to snuggle down in bed, put on a film, and turn your brain off.

But as per usual, life had much different plans compared to what you wanted.

Much, much different plans.

At first, you had assumed that the polite knock upon your door was little more than the postman there to ask you if you could take a parcel in for your neighbours.

It soon became apparent that that was indeed not the case, as the banging grew more and more aggressive - you wanted to be scared, but when you heard the familiar honk of a bicycle horn, you immediately relaxed, and shouted.

Again. The third time time he showed up, he smashed your window with such force that you were finding bits of jagged, broken glass for days afterwards.

Now, you just let him in, or rather, he invited himself in once you warned him about the window.

He was lucky you cared about him so much. He really was.

The door creaked, and from your spot on the bed, you let your body go limp as you let out a heavy sigh; casual footsteps echoed after the door had been politely shut and loudly locked.

He never did grasp how to lock it properly, but you didn't mind much; his short struggle to do so gave you time to mentally prepare for the inevitable cleaning job ahead of you.

You held your hands up, shaking your head as you tried not to gag. "Oh, fucking no! You are not getting that shit-"

He crept to your door, and another honk sounded from the horn in his hand as he grinned; his lamprey-like teeth glistening in hues of gold and bronze surrounded by that thick, black lipstick smeared around his mouth.

His sleeves were dark red at the wrists, and slowly faded into white at the shoulder. His face was splattered and drenched in a deep, almost black, goo.

He stank.

"My days you fucking stink!" You howled, trying not to laugh as you pushed him off.

Before you could finish your sentence, or even think about it, Art had flung himself into your embrace.

Rubbing that goo and whatever else was sticking to him, not just over you, but on your fucking bed, too.

The smell made your eyes water, and the way it stuck to your skin made your stomach churn and gargle as something burning and acidic rose to the back of your throat.

Art stood before you, and made a show of folding his arms across his chest with a silent huff. He pouted, and narrowed those black rimmed eyes at you.

"You do!" You laughed, gesturing to his costume. "And now I stink!"

Art held his hands flat beside him, palms facing the ceiling; his way of asking what you wanted him to do about it.

You frowned, thinking for a moment, then nodded to yourself. "Get out of that costume. I'm gonna toss it in the washing machine with my bedding, and while it's getting cleaned, we're gonna take a bath."

He gestured between himself and you, tilting his head to the side and grinning broadly.

You nodded at him, and smiled back. "Yes, we. Me and you."

So you got up, letting Art skip merrily in your shadow and stand within it when you got to the bathroom; you turned the hot water on in the bath, and gently sat the plug down.

To be fair, Art was fairly clean for a man of his... particular hobbies and job. He didn't like congealed blood, and he did often stop in laundromats to clean his costume, often needing two or three washes before everything was gone.

He did always have a particular smell to him, though, but you had gotten so used to it that you hardly even noticed anymore; but whatever was on him tonight... it fucking reeked.

It reeked, and you couldn't stand it.

"Do you wanna use my honey almond body wash?"

Art nodded excitedly, silently clapping his hands together in glee and jumping up and down.

You laughed softly, shaking your head with great fondness. "Alright, down, boy!"

He stopped, still grinning as he watched you add it to the bath; it formed great mountains of bubbles that cascaded and softly crashed into the running water. Condensation began to fog up the window and mirror, so you tugged at Art's costume.

"Off," you told him. "I'm gonna strip the bed while you do."

He was glad to get it off, really. It clung to him and it wasn't fresh anymore. He only liked it when it was fresh. He tossed it into the basket, and eagerly watched as you took it with the bedding and chucked it into the washing machine.

You weren't gone for very long, and upon your return, you stripped yourself of your clothes, and gestured to the bath. "C'mon, time to wash up."

Slowly, Art lowered himself into the hot water, and made a face of relief for a split moment; he grabbed the nearby sponge, and handed it to you the moment you lowered yourself in behind him.

He let you drag him into the shower, and after waiting for it to warm up, you began spraying him down; the water went from dark red to brown to orange, then clear. Most of the more chunky bits of what used to be human beings went down the drain along with the water, and so did most of the smell.

You must have rinsed him down three or four times before you gently guided him back to the bath.

You got the sponge nice and wet, and gently ran it up and down his back. "I don't say it enough, I know, but... but, I do really appreciate being your... I guess boyfriend?"

Art nodded with enthusiasm, agreeing with the term of endearment as he leaned into the touches. His shoulders slumped as he leaned into you, waiting for you to finish scrubbing his back before he leaned back enough to give you access to his face and chest.

You could never be sure why he kept you around, if you were honest.

He did fucking rip people's faces in half and scalp them and pull their shoulder blades out of their body while they were still breathing.

But he never so much as tried to intimidate or scare you; not in that way, anyway. He did still enjoy the odd jumping out of nowhere and randomly honking that horn to get you to jump out of your skin.

Harmless pranks from a serial killing torturer, yet you found it beyond endearing.

The same as you found his sharp, deep sea fish-like teeth attached to his grin to be so charming.

You sighed heavily with content. "You know, I could stay like this forever."

Art nodded in agreement, although he knew it was a lie; he had a job to do, and he fucking loved every moment of it. It had to be fresh, it always had to be fresh - but not yours. Never yours.

So much for your quiet night.

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

hi!!! thank you for reading and I hope you can spare just a moment more! you see, Tahani & her family are from Gaza, and their home has been destroyed by the zionist entity. Tahani herself has lost her job and her home because of this, and she wishes to get her family to safety in Egypt. their goal is to raise $50,000, and so far they have raised $20,061 of that goal; so if you could, please share and (if possible) donate so that a family in need is able to live another day, and to escape genocide.

[patrice-bergerons]

Torchwood S1E13, End of Days

or, when your boss/the love of your life comes back from the dead when you thought you'd lost him for good this time and you try to shake his hand

[yuki-world]

秦彻 | SYLUS ; PLAN

summary | sylus sets a time limit for you to retrieve the brooch from him. unfortunately, you don't get it in time no matter how hard you try, but fortunately, it's sylus you're dealing with.

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, mention of handcuffs, vaginal penetration, creampie, 2.9k words

a/n : inspired by his affinity lvl 15 story (?) aka the one where he gets handcuffed to the bed

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“oh,” sylus raises a brow, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. he’s handcuffed to his own bed with you straddling him, teasing him by tracing your index finger over his body. just how cocky were you?

sylus takes a deep breath in. “so you think you’ve got me now, is that right?”

you hum in response, stopping your finger near his abdomen. “think? no, i know,” you reply confidently, letting out a slight scoff. there was no way he could move, so you could find it freely as you pleased. this was the best scenario, and luckily you didn’t fumble it as this was your last attempt before the deadline reached.

unbeknownst to you, it’s not that he couldn’t un-cuff himselfー it’s actually quite offensive that you think that. it’s more of him wanting to see how far you would go if he wasn’t going to intervene, because it’s fun. how adorable you look thinking you’ve won, how eager you look to finally win against him in something. and so, he watches. eyes locked onto your every action and reaction as you try to find the hidden brooch.

you start at the top of his robe near his neck, your hand making it’s way down, slowly feeling for any small and hard object. you pat at the material rested on his chest, but still no sign.

sylus gives you a small smirk, and you narrow your eyes. you didn’t exactly trust him per se, even if he promised to keep his word. what if this was just a trick? what if he was just toying with you? what if he didn’t have the brooch?”

“are you sure the brooch is even on you?” you questioned. his growing smirk was only making you more suspicious by the minute.

“accusing me, kitten?” he asks, feigning disappointment. “you haven’t even finished looking.”

you roll your eyes at his words, mumbling a small whatever under your breath as you continued looking for the brooch. you smoothed your palm down his robe, patting around his waist. still nothing.

you were getting desperate at this pointー you were almost there. this was the best effort you’ve made so far, and you weren’t going to let your plan fail so easily. you swallow, trailing your hand further down his robe, albeit hesitantly. your hands were at his thigh, the thin material the only thing separating your skin with his.

mentally shaking your head to snap out of your thoughts, you continue feeling for where the brooch might be.

suddenly, you feel something hard. it’s hard, no mistake, but it was far from small.

…that’s definitely not the brooch.

“i’d be careful where you’re touching,” sylus speaks, his voice almost making you jump as you retracted your hand quickly. a tinge of red spreads across your cheeks, and you try to defend yourself.

“shutー quiet,” you stuttered. “i didn’t mean to, okay? sorry,” you apologized, breathing out as you tried to maintain your composure. focus on the goal, you repeated to yourself over and over again. you meet his eyes for a split second, and god, you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

he lets out a breathy chuckle, watching you get distracted as you panicked to look for the brooch.

you finally get to the bottom of his robe, but you find absolutely nothing. where else could he have hidden it? he had to have it with him… that was a rule, right?

“i swear, you’re playing with me,” you accused, defeated. how was this possible? you set everything up perfectly, and the one thing you couldn’t do was find the broochー despite being able to check him freely? “be honest, is it really on you or not?” you asked, squishing his cheeks together with your hand so he looks at you.

“oh, look at that,” he states, ignoring your question before tilting his head up slightly, glancing at the clock, then back to you.

“time’s up.”

you hear a soft click, your head snapping to the sound of the handcuffs unlocking as you let your hand fall.

your body moves instinctively, feet touching the floor as you push yourself off his bed to make your escape.

…only for him pull you back and throw you onto the bed, landing with a soft thud against his pillow. you try to lift yourself up again, but your wrists get pinned by his larger handsー all the more making it hard to move. you start to squirm a little, but decide it’s of no use.

“you really are naive,” sylus sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. how you thought a pair of poorly made handcuffs were supposed to restrict him was beyond comprehendible. “since you didn’t find it in time, i get to have my way with you.”

“whatever, justー just get on with it.” you roll your eyes, trying to act nonchalant, but you can’t help the sudden wave of pleasure that shoots through your body at his words.

complying, he slams his lips against yours, the kiss filled with hunger and greed. the kiss was far from sloppyー he made sure you felt everything, both physically and emotionally, very calculated. his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, and you gasp.

he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, the wet sounds of making out filling his room as he continued to french kiss you.

removing his hand from one of your wrists, he opts to grip your waist instead, subtly pushing your shirt higher and higher, until your bra was exposed.

you shouldn’t be enjoying this. yet here you were, squirming under him as your thighs rubbed against one another, eager to feel any sort of stimulation. his mouth felt so warm as he continued kissing you, and so did the atmosphere.

feeling the movement of your thighs, he lets go of your other wrist, spreading your legs apart before slotting himself in between them, his crotch flushed against you. he doesn’t break the kiss once, letting you grind onto his hardened bulge to relieve yourself.

“sylus,” you breathed out, pushing him away gently to catch your breath. you panted softly, a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips as he pulled back.

“what, kitten?” he leans back smugly, admiring how red your lips were. all his doing, of course. “you can’t even handle a bit of kissing?”

“that was not a bit of kissing,” you retorted, looking away. you noticed your clothes were starting to stick onto your skin, presumably from the heat. you start to slowly unbutton your shirt one by one, but he’s not having any of that.

he smacks your hand away, ripping open the shirt like it was paper, some buttons popping off. you couldn't even protest as he pulled your bra down, exposing your tits.

"what the fuck, sylus! that was my favorite shirt," you scolded, furrowing your brows. it was one of the few shirts you decided to splurge on after contemplating for a long time, and the fact that he just tore it like that...

"how much?" he questions, squeezing one of your tits.

"what? like, a little over a hundredー"

"insignificant," he cuts you off, latching onto one of your nipples. he already knew whatever value you said wouldn't matter much to himー he could buy you a million of those shirts and there wouldn't be a single dent to his bank account.

he continues to suck and fondle, alternating between each tit to give them equal attention. he bites occasionally, each time making you gasp. you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling every time he sucked or bit too hard.

after what felt like hours, sylus finally pulls off you with a pop, staring at the red marks, shining with his saliva around your tits. even better that it's from his doing. he lets out a satisfied sigh.

"don't... look at me like that," you whisper, covering his eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed.

he lets out a breathy chuckle, bringing your palm to his lips to kiss it. "you're getting shy now? you weren't earlier when you were touching me all over," he points out, pulling your pants and underwear off in one clean motion.

"and don't think i forgot when you brushed against my..."

"that's 'cause i was looking for the brooch!" you argued, letting out a defeated sigh. "...just fuck me already."

"it's interesting that you think you're in any position to make demands." he flips you over onto your hands and knees, giving your ass a loud slap, resonating throughout the room. "ass up, don't take your own sweet time."

you clicked your tongue at his attitude, but did as he told anyway. as much as you didn't want to admit it, you were eager. the last time the both of you had sex, he fucked you until you were on the brink of tears, moaning and drooling into his pillows that he had to change them after. it was amazing, to say the very least.

sylus shifts behind you, undoing his robe and getting rid of his boxers quickly. his cock stands erected, large obviously, and it's clear he's already been hard since the beginning. even if you don't turn around to look, you knew just how much pre-cum was leaking from his cock as he rubs the coated tip between your embarrassingly wet folds. so much so that you didn't even need any preparationー not even his fingers to spread your pussy open.

he gives your ass another slap again, before guiding his cock into your tight entrance. your pussy stretches around him to accommodate his girth, instinctively clamping down the moment it entered.

"ngh, sylus," you moan, fingers gripping onto his sheets, pillows, anything you could grab on to as he pushed more of his inches into you. you'll never get enough of how big he feels inside you, the empty space previously now filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out to mold your insides to the shape of him.

"fuck... always so fucking tight, huh?" sylus exhales, bottoming out inside you. though, there was still some of his length left that your cunt couldn't take in. "this cock is too big for you."

you whined in response, spreading your legs further to take more of him in comfortably, but you could barely do so from how filled you were. there was simply no space inside you.

"aw, too much for you, kitten?" he mocks. pulling back to leave only his tip in, before slamming his entire length back into you.

"shutー ahー up!" you cry out as you jerk forward from the sheer force of his thrust. his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to meet each thrust of his cock. you should've known he was only going to go faster, his seemingly sweet and slow pace disappearing the moment he starts pounding into you at rapid speeds. his balls were hitting your clit every time he pushed his cock in, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

your sounds get louder and louder each time he fucks into you, so much so that you have to bury your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. it was going to happen againー his pillows stained with drool.

he slammed his hips against your ass harder, hoping to elicit more sounds from you. "sylus... mmph!" you moan, his name coming out unclear from how muffled you were.

"hmm?" he hums in question, pulling your hair to lift your face off the pillow. "who said that you could hide your pretty sounds?"

sylus pulls out before flipping you over again, this time taking a few seconds to admire your fucked out state. your face was flushed, half-lidded eyes and drool dribbling down the side of your mouth. he doesn't think he's ever seen a prettier sight.

"you're drooling," he points out, using his thumb to wipe some of it away. well, you knew that, but you don't care, because at this point, all you can think about is his cock. you've never been more grateful to him, more thankful that you met him, as he pushes his cock into you once more.

your walls feel so good around him, he has to take a brief breather before starting to thrust. such a tight cunt, he thinks again, because it's trueー he's never fucked this good of a pussy. wrapping around him so warmly, clenching onto him in all the right ways. he could die happy like this. he could die happy with you.

"fuck me, fuck meー fuck me," you beg, snapping him out of his thoughts. you push up against him, trying to move on your own, to take more of him in, to just do something. the lack of stimulation was killing you.

"stop," he hisses, gripping your thigh to stop you. "you're going to hurt yourself. let me do it."

and then he starts again, fucking you with so much vigor that you mentally question just how much stamina he actually has. he never lets his pace falter from then onwards, railing you as the bed starts to move along to his movements.

with no pillow to bury your face in, you couldn't hide your moans even if you wanted toー exactly what he wanted. you were screaming, "harderー fuckー yes! right there!"

"so noisy in bed," he groans, hands reaching up to intertwine your fingers with him. a small and sweet gesture, the complete opposite of how roughly he was ramming his cock deep inside you. repeatedly, at that same exact spot that had your eyes rolling backwards. if anyone was outside his doorー hell, not even outside his door, maybe even at a few rooms away, they would definitely still be able to hear you.

you wrap your legs around his waist tightly, feeling your orgasm approaching sooner than you thought. "sylus, i wannaー make me cum, please!"

no, he wanted to say. this wasn't your reward, you didn't even find the brooch. but he couldn't. because he was close too.

sylus wasn't going to deny you even if you didn't ask so nicely, even if you demanded him to. he knows the exact look on your face as you cum, and it's the same, perfect, expression that he loves so much each time. at your request, he lets go of one of your hands, dipping his fingers into your mouth before trailing down to rub circles around your clit.

unnecessary? yes, you were already soaking wet. just for good measure, he thinks. besides, you looked sexy with your mouth wrapped around his fingers, almost struggling with how much larger his digits were.

you start squirming, squeezing his hand tighter as he continues thrusting while rubbing, a deadly combo. "fuckー thaaat's it, be a good girl and cream on my cock."

"oh myー sylus!" you scream out his name as your orgasm hits you, eyes rolling back, nails digging into his hand, and your back arches off the bed. your pussy starts tightening and spasming around him like a vice. he feels you get so much, so much wetter that his cock almost slips out of you as he pulls back.

"such a sweet expression," he groans at the sight, pushing your legs back as he tries to angle his cock deeper into you. you try to close your legs from sensitivity, but he simply won't let you, not when he's so close to cumming.

"ohー yes, fuuuck..." he throws his head back with a final snap of his hips, his cock pulsing inside you as he pumps your pussy with cum, his thick load of semen coating your insides with warmth.

coming down from his high with a few more weak spurts of cum, he lets his head fall back down, a contented sigh as he pulls out slowly with a loud squelch. you whimper at the sensitivity, but also at the loss of his cock. his load takes a few seconds to dribble out, thick and creamy, leaving a trail down to your ass.

"satisfied?" he tilts his head, letting your legs down. "seems like you're done for tonight."

"yeah," you breathe out in exhaustion, feeling his hand caress your cheek. "the brooch," you paused, suddenly remembering.

"where is it, and... what's the actual punishment?"

sylus looks at you amused, reaching over to his robe tossed somewhere on the floor, unpinning the brooch before holding it towards you. "looking for this?"

you widened your eyes. how could it have been in his robe? you literally searched everywhereー

"i know what's going on in that little head of yours," he sighs, opening your palm to put it in your hand. "you got distracted, remember? you brushed past it and didn't even notice, kitten."

you groaned in frustration, mad at yourself that you didn't even notice. you basically just accused him for nothing.

"...and the actual punishment? for not getting the brooch in time?"

"no punishment," he states smugly, watching your lips part in disbelief.

"seriously? i put in a lot of effort into these plans, you know!" you smack his chest lightly. "i can't believe you."

"i'd say you gained a lot more than you lost," he says as a matter-of-factly, eyeing the white mess oozing out of your cunt.

"...shut up."

ー @yuki-world

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a partner who likes to bite

Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"

John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.

"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."

The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.

Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.

Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.

"Stop."

He nips at your throat.

"Fucking."

Then he nips at your shoulder.

"Biting."

Finally, John nips at your upper arm.

"Me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."

You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.

“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.

Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.

Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”

Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.

"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.

“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.

He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”

“Can’t help it,” you mutter.

“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.

“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”

“Kyle.”

“Mean bite.”

“I swear to God, Kyle.”

“A—”

You place your hand over his mouth.

John "Soap" MacTavish

With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.

Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.

A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.

What’s one little bite?

It won’t hurt.

Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.

Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.

One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.

You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.

“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.

“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.

"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.

A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.

Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.

But you lose.

Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.

“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't bite," you mutter.

Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.

He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."

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[likeumeanit9497]

like a pornstar | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n, chris' best friend, confesses that she has never finished during sex, he decides to change that

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); unprotected p in v; dirty talk; established friendship; squirting; 18+

notes: back again with a friends with benefits smut (shh im manifesting). i hope the chris girlies enjoy, and matt girlies don't worry my next one shot is for u ;) love y'all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“Hey! You’re gonna eat all the popcorn! Give me some.” I exclaimed before snatching the half eaten bag of popcorn from Chris’ grasp. He tried to say something in a rebuttal, but all he got through his mouthful of popcorn was garbled words and a slight spray of kernels. “Oh god, you’re foul.” I said jokingly before wrapping my leg around his to lighten my words. “Just hush, I can’t hear the show.”

Chris and I had been best friends since elementary school, and had always had a bond like no other. When he had moved out to California a few years ago, I had really struggled with the loss of seeing him practically everyday. But since then, I had been able to come out and visit him multiple times, and it was so exciting to have him show me the new life that him and his brothers had built for themselves on the other side of the country.

In the past, each time I had visited him in Los Angeles the weather had been amazing, so I had forced Chris to explore all over the city with me. However, this visit had been nothing but rain, so him and I had done little more than what we were doing right now: curling up under the covers with some snacks and a couple joints, binge watching all of our favourite shows from high school. We were currently re-watching Euphoria — one of my all time favourite shows — as a light trickle of rain acted as background noise.

As we worked through our snacks, the scene where Maddy and Nate’s relationship dynamic is described played. I popped a handful of popcorn in my mouth, relishing in the nostalgic feeling that the show brought me, as the scene continued on to describe how Maddy watched porn to study how she should look and sound during sex. As the character arched her back on her bed, her eyes plastered to a device playing porn, I let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Chris turned to me with a confused smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I replied, shaking my head and shoving more popcorn into my mouth to stifle my ridiculous laughter. “Brooo, tell me.” He whined, grabbing my shoulder and shaking it jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Oh my god, fine! I was just laughing because I used to do that.” I finally responded, and Chris turned to me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Wait, what?” He brought a fistful of candy to his mouth. “I used to study porn too, not to get off on it or anything, just to like know what I was supposed to do.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks grow warm as Chris just stared blankly at me.

Finally, Chris blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his blank stare to resume eating snacks. “I don’t understand that honestly,” He began, reaching his hand into the popcorn bag between my legs, “I feel like when you’re in the moment all of those sounds and movements and stuff come naturally, don’t they?” I shrugged before responding. “Not for me, to be honest. I’ve never really had any sort of sexual interaction that made me feel good enough to act and sound like a porn star.” I chuckled, keeping the conversation lighthearted. This wasn’t the first time Chris and I had talked about our sexual experiences, so I felt comfortable being honest with him.

But when I fixed my gaze back onto him, I was met with a confused expression. “So does that mean you’ve never…” He dragged out his sentence, seemingly too afraid to complete it, so I saved him the trouble and answered his unfinished question with a solemn shake of my head. At this, his eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be total shock, complete with a dropped jaw. “You’re not serious, Y/n.” He said simply, and I once again shrugged my shoulders. “I mean it’s pretty common for girls to not be able to finish during sex, you know that.” I replied, to which he titled his head to the side and looked off into the distance.

“I guess so, but I’ve personally never ran into that problem before.” He replied, a cheeky smile taking over his face, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh Jesus, well too bad not all men are the Christopher Sturniolo.” I joked, unintentionally stroking his ego before refocusing my gaze on the show. The room was silent for a brief moment, both of us back to watching the show, before Chris spoke up again. “I just think that’s really fucked up. Sex should make both people involved feel good.” I wrapped my leg tighter around his. “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser.” I joked. Turning to once again face him, I was expecting to be met with his classic grin. But instead, his face was serious; his mouth was set in a straight line and his blue eyes had darkened.

His expression was one I rarely saw, but it made my stomach tighten subconsciously. My throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched when Chris brought a hand under the covers and placed it gently on my bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin. And my head began to spin when he shifted his body so that he was completely facing me. “You know, I bet I could make you sound like a porn star.” His poker face was finally replaced with a smirk, this one much more sinister than the one that I usually saw cross his face. He used his hand on my thigh to guide my legs open before brushing a finger just barely against my clothed heat; causing me to gasp. He leaned closer to my frame, already quivering in anticipation, and nibbled gently at my earlobe before whispering.

“Let me make you feel good, Y/n.”

He kept his mouth right there against my ear as he waited for a response, and I could feel his rapid breaths against my skin. My brain was in shambles, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Chris and I had been best friends for so long, but not once had things turned sexual. This was completely uncharted territory for me, and I couldn’t imagine it ending well. But, his hand that was resting in between my trembling thighs and his whispered proposition had already caused my panties to grow damp, so I threw all of my sensibility away by grabbing his jaw, drawing his face to mine, and crashing my lips onto his.

Immediately, Chris worked his lips against mine. They moved in sync as his tongue slipped into my mouth with ease; dancing around my own and filling me with more desire. He brought his other hand under the covers to grab onto my other thigh, where he squeezed harshly before using his grip to pull me up on top of him. Still attacking my mouth with his, he rubbed his hands up and down my body as I straddled him, taking care to focus his attention on my more sensitive parts.

He broke the kiss briefly to pull my oversized t-shirt over my head, before taking a moment to admire my bare chest in his direct line of sight. Without hesitation, he attached his mouth to one of my tits, nibbling and swirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples; causing my body to break out in goosebumps from the sensation. After he took his time on the first, he moved his mouth onto the second, and the new contact caused me to subconsciously grind my pelvis against his thigh; eliciting a moan from me. My erotic sound caused his eyes to shoot open, looking up at my face, before he detached his mouth from my tit to speak. “Real moan?” He asked, his lips swollen, and I nodded my head before grinding my hips against him once more. “F-feels good.” I mumbled, and at that he readjusted himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard; giving me more stability.

“Then keep doing that. Wanna see you feeling good.” He replied, shifting my body so that my core could press right up against the highest point of his thigh. I didn’t hesitate long before resuming my movements, this time moving at a much faster pace; losing myself to the sheer pleasure that the friction of his pants granted me. Chris’ mouth reattached to my nipples, but his eyes never left mine as he took in all of my contorted facial expressions and soft moans. He allowed his lips to travel along my chest up to my neck, where he suckled gently before muttering. “I don’t want you to fake anything, baby, just want you to tell me when it feels good and when it doesn’t. Okay?” I nodded my head frantically, squinting my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.

I looked down to where my body was writhing against him, and even through my shorts and panties I had left a dark patch from my arousal against his grey sweats. Rolling my eyes to the back of my head in bliss, I had never before grown that wet during sex before. I felt my legs begin to weaken around his thigh, and an overwhelming feeling begin to bubble up inside of me. I knew it was my orgasm approaching, but I was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness that was preventing me from reaching it.

“C-Chris, I can’t,” I panted out, and his eyes were immediately on mine. “You can’t what?” He replied, gripping my ass with both hands and helping me grind myself against him. “C-can’t finish.” I replied honestly, feeling my eyes well up with frustrated tears. I had never felt this good in bed with someone before, and still, I couldn’t get myself to cum. “Hey hey, it’s okay,” Chris used his grip on me to stop my movements completely, “It’s an overwhelming feeling, it’s sometimes hard to give in to it.” He brought a hand up to my cheek and stroked it affectionately. “Lie down here.” He patted the space in the bed where I had previously been, and I obliged, resting my head against the pillow.

Once I settled myself, Chris crawled on top of me, resting his weight on one arm. He began kissing me again, this time much slower than the first, and once my heart rate began to slow I took it upon myself to deepen the kiss; pulling his bottom lip gently with my teeth. This elicited a deep moan from Chris, and I felt him grind his clothed member against my core before dragging his mouth down my jaw and neck; leaving harsh kisses in its trail. I watched through droopy eyelids as Chris’ body traveled down my own, and my breathing increased once again when he reached the waistband of my shorts. He toyed with the band for a moment, slipping two fingers under the material before looking back up at me.

“I just want you to relax, lay there, and tell me when you feel good. Can you do that Y/n?” His voice was soft, but it was the unmistakable undertone of gruff arousal laced through it that caused my stomach to flip. I nodded quickly, bringing a hand to his forehead and brushing a few stray hairs back. “Okay.” I replied, causing him to smirk before slowly pulling my shorts and thong down my legs. Once my clothing was completely discarded, Chris encouraged my knees to bend and spread my legs open; exposing my dripping heat completely. “Hmm, so pretty Y/n.” He said lowly, taking in the glistening folds just centimetres from his face.

I watched as he dropped soft kisses along my outer folds before using his hands to spread me open slightly. His mouth inched closer and closer to my aching core, and when he finally connected to it I released a shaky moan. Immediately, he used his tongue to expertly manipulate my clit, causing me to see stars almost instantly. It was clear by his movements that he knew what he was doing, and I had to grip onto his messy curls in order to keep myself in place as he continued. “Is that good baby?” He asked against my bundle of nerves, moving one of his hands from my folds down to my entrance, teasing it in circles as he waited for a response.

“S-so good Chrissy.” I managed to get out before he reattached his lips, this time slowly plunging a digit into me as he continued; causing my hips to buck. “Shh, stay still honey.” He mumbled, still working his tongue and fingers in sync against my heat. The combination of his tongue against my clit and his finger plunging up into my g-spot was staggering, and I was once again feeling the undeniable signs of an upcoming orgasm. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being set on fire, and the pressure in my lower stomach was so intense, it felt like I was going to pee.

I had reached orgasms on my own before, but none had ever had a build up as intense as the one I was currently feeling with Chris. I felt like I could explode, but still, I was struggling to let go once again. “C-Chris, I d-don’t think I — I don’t think I c-can do it.” I cried out, gripping onto his hair like my life depended on it. At this, Chris added a second finger and increased his speed. “Yes you can baby, I know you can. Just breathe and let your body do what it knows to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut from the pressure, and did as he said and released shaky breaths. His movements had the same level of intensity as before, but there was an unspoken level of desperation to them now; clear indication that he wanted to get me there.

Even though it seemed impossible, the pressure inside of me kept getting stronger and stronger. My legs were shaking on either side of his head, and my breaths came out as guttural moans. I felt my body detach from my brain, and I knew I had lost all control over what was going to happen. Just then, the strongest orgasm I had ever felt completely engulfed me, and I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. My back arched off of the bed, overwhelmed by the extreme sensation. Feverish, strings of erotic notes fell from my mouth, and they could barely be heard over the ringing in my ears.

Mouth agape, I watched in awe as the pressure in my stomach was finally relieved by a rush of fluid shooting from my core. At this, Chris murmured “Oh fuck.” before detaching his lips from my clit and swiftly rubbing it; spraying my fluid all over his face and exposed tongue. My orgasm rippled through me like a tsunami, and left me in a figurative and literal puddle once it died down. Once he drank up all my juices, Chris planted a soft kiss against my clit before dragging his body up mine.

Once he was face to face with me, he gave me a deep kiss. “How was that?” He whispered with a grin on his wet face. Still catching my breath, all I could do was nod. He played with my hair for a moment, tranquility clear on his face, before he suddenly shifted his weight and began climbing off of me. “W-wait.” I said, grabbing hold of his waistband and stopping his movements. He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I wordlessly moved my hand to his crotch, where I was met with what seemed like a painfully hard member. “You’re not gonna fuck me?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently as I watched his taken aback expression.

In the blink of an eye, his face darkened once again and he returned to his position above me. “You want me to?” He asked, his face buried in my neck where he peppered it with soft kisses. “Mhmm.” I hummed, using my hand to palm him through his sweats. At that, Chris didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, leaving his cock exposed. I gasped at its size that had been somewhat disguised when it was still concealed in his sweats, but began pumping my hand up and down as he shuddered in pleasure.

Attaching his lips back onto mine, Chris grabbed onto his shaft and lined it up with my opening. He slid it up and down my folds a few times to collect whatever was left of my previous orgasm, before slowly sliding into me. I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his impressive girth, and we both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, before he began slamming his hips into me.

With his forehead resting against mine, he watched me as I contorted my face into expressions of pleasure, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. His gruff breathing and occasional deep moans were like music to my ears, and I dug my nails into his bare shoulders to keep him close. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. Not gonna last long.” He groaned, using one of his arms to wrap my leg around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and I felt his member slam into my g-spot repeatedly; causing my stomach to fill with that familiar sensation. “Oh god Chris, you’re s-so big.” My voice was coming out squeaky as he continued to pound into me, and he released a harsh moan in response.

I lost myself in the waves of pleasure as they hit me, growing closer to my second orgasm with each of his powerful thrusts. Chris’ gaze on me was so full of lust — clenched jaw, droopy eyes, lower lip trapped in between his teeth — I would have collapsed from its magnitude if I wasn’t already lying down. His motion suddenly shifted from one that was hard and fast to one that was deep and slow, and I couldn’t help but release sharp gasps on each thrusts.

I could tell that I was close to my second orgasm, but he was closer. His breathing was growing more and more rapid, his pace was sloppier, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. As if he was reading my mind, he moaned out. “I-I’m close, want you to cum with me.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, his words already getting me closer to my high, but I knew I needed to get there faster.

Reaching between us, I found my clit and began rubbing it vigorously. Chris’ eyes followed my hand, and when he realized what I was doing he smirked proudly. “Atta girl.” My action seemed to give him a bit more energy, as his movements began picking up the pace once again; and I found myself on the edge of another orgasm. “Ah fuck, Chris, gonna cum again.” I cried out through my gasps for air just before my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my walls contract around his swollen member, and that was enough for him to reach his high as well.

Gripping tightly onto my shoulder, Chris plunged his twitching cock in and out of me; driving both of us through our orgasms. I gasped when I felt his fluid shoot deep into me, and savoured the verbal confirmation of his pleasure in my ear. Our moans flew from our mouths in harmony, and it was only once his body stilled above me that I removed my hand from my clit.

We stayed in that position for what could have been hours, catching our breath and falling into the lethargic temperament that always came after sex. Finally, Chris lifted his weight off of me and slid his softening dick out from my core, offering me an apprehensive smile. He stood up and walked into his washroom, coming back over to the bed with a towel to help clean up the mess in between my legs before doing the same to his member. Once I no longer felt like a bowl of jello, I sat up on the bed beside him.

“Well?” He asked, his tone playful as he wiggled his eyebrows awaiting my response. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my top and throwing it over my head. “Would you believe me if I said I faked all of that?” I asked, unable to keep the smile that was toying with the corners of my mouth at bay. He blew air out of his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” He replied, and I laughed. “I hate to gas you up like this, but that really was amazing.” I finally said honestly, resting my head on his bare shoulder.

He chuckled before grabbing my hand and stroking it gently. “Glad to be of service.” He replied, removing his hand from mine and instead wrapping his arm around me completely. “You turned into my little porn star there for a minute.” He followed it up by making high pitched moan sounds, mocking me and breaking the wave of silence that had followed his last comment. I laughed, lifting my head off of his shoulder and coming face-to-face with his goofy smile. “You ever use that against me in the future and I will bite your head off.” I replied, shoving his shoulder gently. “I won’t, swear. But you can use me again in the future if you wish. Y’know, in case you ever want to cum like that again.”

My jaw dropped at his filthy words, but I couldn’t help but feel heat flood to my core once again. Smirking, I raised one quizzical eyebrow. “One more?” I asked, and watched as his face was overtaken by a smirk that mirrored my own. “Lay down and put your legs on my shoulders.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Police Officer Wes

"Excuse me, sorry, Mr. Batman, sir!"

That's definitely not a voice he knows. Bruce halts in his steps, aborting his usual retreat into the shadows, and turns back around. Commissioner Gordon, who was still in the process of wrapping up his small talk with Tim - the term 'grumpy banter' would describe their conversation more accurately at this point, but Bruce knows better than to argue with the two over semantics - also turns around, pausing in the middle of the sentence.

A ginger haired boy, wide-eyed and obviously either nervous, starstruck, or both, is staring at him from a few feet behind the Commissioner. Bruce can see a few more faces peeking from behind the half-opened door to the roof, all of them filled with anticipation. He knows two of them: detectives that work directly under Gordon, Isaiah Vasquez, and Tasha Kuznets. The third one, a black man in his forties, also looks vaguely familiar, but Bruce can't recall a name.

Yet, he knows absolutely nothing about the ginger, who hasn't blinked once since Bruce noticed him and is now biting on his lips. But he is wearing a police uniform, so, possibly, a new hire?

"Weston, get out," Jim sighs, waving a shooing hand at the boy with a look of barely concealed exasperation on his face. Definitely a new hire, then. That's the level of annoyance he reserves only for the overachieving rookies that he begrudgingly likes but never admits to.

"I-" newly named Weston starts but cuts himself off. Then, he takes a deep breath and straightens up, "Just one question, sir!"

"Weston, I swear to God," Commissioner pinches the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up a bit. But Tim tilts his head to the side, looking in the ginger's direction and raising his eyebrows. His domino mask hides it, but Bruce knows his menagerie of kids well enough to see that he is at least a bit curious about the boy. So he turns back around fully and inclines his head, giving Weston his attention. He doesn't mind talking with those rare few members of GCPD that Gordon likes.

Weston perks up like a very eager dog at the sight of a treat. In the contrast lighting of the BatSignal, his hair looks like it's on fire.

"If you don't mind, was the 'Smiling case' relevant to Joker in any sense?" The boy asks, loud and clear - maybe even too loud - with his unblinking gaze still glued to Bruce. Like he is afraid that if he closes his eyes for a moment, Gotham's vigilantes are going to disappear without a trace.

It's not a question Bruce expected, to be honest. The 'Smiling case' was closed just a few days ago, Gordon was still not done with the paperwork, as far as Oracle's records went. A murder of three, where all victims had some badly drawn clown makeup on them - post-mortem makeup, as it turned out, the murderer tried to deceive the investigation by trying to cover it up as Joker's doing. Only, he didn't do a good job at it, all the Bats were way too familiar with the Mad Clown's signature style. Not to mention that Joker was still securely sealed in his Arkham cell.

Bruce turns to look at Red Robin. He was the one working on the case, so Bruce gives him the choice of answering or not. Tim jerks his shoulder, looks the ginger boy up and down, and then shakes his head.

"Aside from a poor attempt at leading the investigation in the wrong direction, no, it wasn't," Tim shrugs, "The guy isn't even a Gothamite, he knew of Joker only from the rumors and media. And the clown faces were a makeshift cover-up."

Weston visibly deflates at the answer. Bruce watches in a slight amusement as Tasha nudges the other officer, one he doesn't remember the name of, in the shoulder, and stage-whispers, "Pay up." The older man huffs and disappears behind the door, followed by Isaiah.

"Thank you, Mr. Red Robin," Wesley nods politely and takes a step back, his eyes darting to Gordon. Tim snorts a laugh but doesn't correct him. Commissioner, though, gives the boy a long, dreadful sigh.

"Is that all, officer Weston?" He asks, not even bothering to hide his 'tired dad' voice.

The ginger nods again, "Yes, Commissioner Gordon."

"Then get out of my sight before I make all your shifts double," Jim commands, and Weston nearly runs back to the door with a speed that makes Bruce involuntarily think of speedsters. Must be the red hair.

Tim turns to look at the Commissioner right as the door to the roof slams shut behind both Weston and Kuznets.

"Who is he?"

Bruce is also a bit curious now. New recruits in the GCPD are nothing out of the ordinary, but Jim seems to know this one personally, and Kuznets, who is one of his trusted detectives, seems to also like the officer.

Gordon briefly huffs and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat. It's quite chilly today; Bruce makes a mental note to switch everyone to their more insulated suits. Scarecrow is currently out on the loose. It won't do any good if any of the Bats went down with a cold.

"Wesley Weston, fresh out of the Academy," Commissioner sighs, but, somehow, Bruce gets the impression it's not a sound of simple exasperation over a new officer eager to prove himself. Jim proves his assumptions by looking around the shoulder to make sure the door to the roof is still closed, and continuing, "Born and raised in the middle of nowhere, Illinois, but GCPD was his first choice. He explained it as having a few friends living in the city, which, unfortunately, proved to be right."

Bruce frowns and grunts, alarm bells ringing in his mind. Deliberately choosing to work in Gotham despite not being from here can be caused by many reasons, and nearly none of them are good reasons.

"Unfortunately?" Tim inquires suspiciously, also with a slight frown, but Jim waves them both off.

"No, he's got nothing to do with any of the criminals. It was the first thing I checked when he mentioned 'friends'. If anything, he's quite on the opposite; he'd make a great detective one day, what with his countless conspiracy theories, determination and the insane urge to dig up every single detail known to mankind," he laughs a bit, and Bruce notices a slight, teasing twinkle to the Commissioner's eyes behind his glasses. "On his second day here, the boy went and plain told me he knows that Batman is Bruce Wayne and that he's saying that because he knows I know and he is aware we're working together."

The alarm bells in Bruce's mind turn into sirens. They never discussed the matters of Bats' real identities with Gordon - Bruce had his suspicions that the man knew it and simply kept his status quo. In all fairness, James Gordon didn't make it to Gotham's Commissioner by sheer dumb luck, so all the Bats kind of expected him to figure it out one day.

But Jim knowing who's behind the cowl is one thing. A new, out of town officer is quite another.

"What did you answer?" Tim asks with an easy smile, but Bruce sees the barely noticeable tension in his shoulders.

Gordon nearly grins, "I didn't believe him, which turned out to be exactly what he expected. He also told me of some kind of a familial curse - he called it 'Cassandra's curse', I believe you're aware of what it means. And then, when I naturally expressed my doubts, proceeded to show it in action. Believe me, it works. Sometimes, it even works too well," the man looks to the side with an amused huff, "That's why officer Weston is strictly prohibited from voicing his opinions on any of the ongoing cases outloud. Detective Kuznets almost missed some critical evidence because of his input once."

Cassandra's curse, Bruce has heard of that saying before. Granted, he never thought it could be a real thing, and he is not intending on starting now, not before he investigates the matter thoroughly. But he does trust Jim - years and years of working together would do that to people - so he simply nods in understanding, leaving the matter of supernatural aside for now.

"What about his friends?" Red Robin asks again, and that causes Gordon to wince momentarily.

"That, I believe, was the cause of his performance just now. One of his friends runs an occult shop, and the other one loves to hang around our forensic scientists and coroners occasionally," the man waves their immediate frowns off again, "I don't go into the morgue often, but I heard he's good at finding out the causes of death by a few looks at the body. And they run a lot of bets between them three," Jim shrugs nonchalantly, "The last one was about the 'Smiling case', I take it."

"Any reason to worry about them?" Bruce can't help but ask. It's not unusual for people to be weird in this city, and running an occult shop and hanging out with pathologists are not exactly reasons to go through background checks when they've got much more pressing issues on their plate. Namely, Scarecrow: it's been more than a week since his escape, but none of the Bats have heard anything about him yet. Oracle is already busy enough with that and the current uprise of gang activity in the Narrows, there's no point in piling even more work on her shoulders just because of some gossip that rubs Bruce the wrong way.

Gordon, thankfully, doesn't take his question lightly and pauses, scratching his chin.

"No," he finally concludes after some thought, "They are a bit strange for non-Gothamites, I'll say that, but in terms of this city? They are no stranger than my neighbors from upstairs." Gordon doesn't tell them to leave it alone, Bruce notices. However, it's probably not because of any doubts he has; the Bats just have a habit of tripplechecking everything anyways, and who would know that better than Jim Gordon?

A quick glance to Tim proves Bruce's thoughts. Red Robin, despite the mask, looks thoughtful. How many cases is he already working on, seven? Bruce makes another mental note to ask Alfred to cut his caffeine intake. It might be a bit hypocritical of him, what with his own plans to send a few messages to JLD about the 'Cassandra's curse', but Bruce excuses himself as the adult in the family.

Commissioner Gordon clears his throat.

"Do you want me to turn around so you can make your mysterious escape, or-" he starts, but both vigilantes are already gone by the time he finishes, "-or not, okay."

[pellucid-constellations]

Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell... reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: ~950

Warnings: Nothing yet, maybe just a little angst

a/n: Okay I know this is a drabble but this is definitely getting more parts like I am attached to this storyline now and LOVE that you requested it 🤗

Read part two here

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You leaned against a pillar just outside the school, a twitch creeping up your hands until your fingers spasmed. You shoved them under the bend of your elbows, crossing your arms and biting into your lip. 

She was fine. 

She was more than fine—Velaris was safe. 

Anything would have been safer than facing your father’s wrath back in Autumn, but you had gotten extremely lucky with the timing of your escape. Falling pregnant with your daughter had not been in the cards, especially not after a single night of rebellion, but with Velaris’s doors opening up just days after your healer broke the news, something seemed to be written in the stars. 

But every day was still a gamble; your father could find you at any time. 

The past five years had been a miracle, if you were being honest. 

School was supposed to end two minutes ago. 

Your foot began to shake, popping your knee up and down and making your body vibrate with the anxiety that consumed you. 

You shouldn’t have let her go to school. 

Melanie only had a few friends—neighbor kids whose parents you had vetted extensively—but that had been enough for her to get the idea into her head. You had planned on homeschooling her, or at least waiting until she was a few years older before letting her out into the world. Unfortunately, that had not been Melanie’s plan, and Melanie had so many wonderful plans. As most five-year-olds did. 

Gods, what if—

“First day?” a rumbling voice made you pause your nervous fidgeting. The man spoke again. “If you’re worried, don’t be. The teacher is great. Just forgetful when it comes to time. They are typically a few minutes late every day.” 

You swallowed and turned around despite every voice in your head telling you not to. But those voices in your head were completely and utterly wrong about a multitude of things. Behind you, you found a man—an Illyrian—with wings an ungodly size and shadows swirling down his legs and onto a uniform pool along the ground. And he was gorgeous—unabashedly gorgeous in the most devastating way. 

You looked up from your blatant investigation of him, meeting his eye and stuttering out, “Oh. That’s… that’s good to know. Thank you.” 

If he noticed your stutter, he didn’t make any sign of it. Instead, the man with the wings and the shadows blinked several times, furrowed his brows, and took a step back as if to steady himself. Perhaps, if you weren’t a bundle of unreasonable nervous energy, you would have found his actions strange, but you were. So you simply offered him a superficial, airy laugh and uncrossed your arms. 

“I—” the man began, but he seemed to lose his train of thought, a heat traveling up his cheeks in a way that looked foreign. “I’m Azriel.” 

Oh, wonderful. Introductions. 

You tried your hardest to stay very far away from very many people. It was the best way to keep yourself hidden. You couldn’t avoid the neighbors, and you supposed you couldn’t avoid fae like Melanie’s teacher, but this was different. 

Shit. 

You offered your name, anyway, afraid of appearing too outlandish in an otherwise casual setting. 

It would be fine. 

This was fine. 

Azriel repeated it in a breathless way, but then the school bell rang and something seemed to click in his brain. The small smile that had curled up the corner of his mouth became hard and he shot his eyes quickly one way and then the other, inspecting your surroundings. 

Maybe this wasn’t fine. 

“Are you a new mom in the area?” Azriel asked. 

All of your nerves shifted to guarded unease. “I am,” you offered, not caring if it was almost a lie. 

“The moms here don’t usually do the pick ups alone.” 

“You’re doing a pick up alone, it seems.” 

“I’m picking up my nephew,” Azriel explained, relaxing his posture, making himself smaller, seemingly gauging the building tension. “I didn’t mean to come across—I just asked because the mothers here typically have help. From their mates or partners. From the father.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, your next words tumbling out before you could catch them. “Well, I’m alone.” 

Double shit. 

Azriel seemed to let out a breath, his shadows whipping around along the ground. 

You braced yourself for further questioning, for the judgments that would surely follow, but then you were attacked from behind by a pair of arms wrapping around your knees. You turned quickly, scooping your daughter into a hug and promptly dismissing any further conversation with the stranger. 

“Hi, Mel,” you smiled, tucking her hair back as you subtly looked her over. “How was school? Did you like it?” 

“I loved it!” she excitedly replied. She rambled on a bit more after that, retelling her day by the minute. 

You felt eyes on you the entire time. A small boy had run and jumped into Azriel’s arms in your peripheral, but even as the boy talked and talked just as Melanie did, you felt the occasional glance your way. And some of Azriel’s shadows had to be reigned in multiple times, the small wisps licking at your ankles. 

The teacher suddenly spoke up and you were eavesdropping, straining your ears to listen in on her greeting towards the Illyrian.

“Oh, Azriel, lovely to see you. We were hoping the High Lady would be picking Nyx up, but this is even better. There is a showcase in a few weeks that—” 

You felt your world freeze. 

High Lady. 

You had been speaking to someone in close relation to the Night Court. You let someone know your name, told them you were alone with a child, and they had direct access to the High Lord and Lady. 

You whisked Melanie into your arms despite her protests and beelined it home. 

Shit. 

part two

[littlechivalry]

Steddie meet-ugly modern AU no Upside Down

-

Eddie has more than a few pet peeves but the main one is people blocking the sidewalk because they're on the phone. It's inconsiderate and shitty

The guy he's approaching is a prime specimen. Head completely down and walking full speed with no regard for what or who might be sharing the sidewalk.

So Eddie plants his feet. Its a dick move, he knows, but he figures when the guy gets close enough he'll see Eddie and stop short. Maybe raise his head so Eddie can give him a dirty look before they both go back to their original paths.

It doesn't work like that.

The guy never looks up, plows directly into Eddie. Since Eddie was prepared he keeps his feet but the guy goes stumbling. His phone, knocked from his hands, hits the ground with a sharp crack.

Eddie lunges to catch the guy but that brings them both to the ground and an awkward collapse.

"Shit," the guy says, sniffling.

His voice is thick and wet and Eddie is starting to have a real bad feeling.

"Shit, I'm sorry," the guy says. "I wasn't looking where I'm going, 'm so stupid."

He finally looks up and his face is damp and red, hazel eyes welling up with tears.

Eddie is an asshole.

"Hey, no," he says, getting up and helping the guy to his feet. "Its my fault. I didn't realize I was in your way."

The guy stands up, waving away Eddie's help. "No, this is all me. God, this whole stupid day. Of course, of course this would happen."

He's looking at the ground again and Eddie hears the other man hiccup a sob before crouching to pick up his phone.

It's... Eddie's seen worse. But it's in bad shape.

The guy presses the power button but there's no response. Eddie watches him press it again. Then again. He shakes it and tries again.

Nothing.

"Yeah," the guy says. "Yeah. This is perfect. This is actually exactly what I needed."

Oh no, Eddie is the world's biggest asshole.

The guys moves over and takes a seat on the curb, setting his phone on the sidewalk next to him and pressing his face in his hands.

Eddie... doesn't know what to do.

So he sits down beside him.

"You don't need to be here," the guy says.

Eddie shrugs. "I don't have anywhere else to be and it's my fault your day went to shit." The first part is a lie, and Gareth is gonna be pissed if Eddie doesn't get going, but there's no way he can leave now.

The guy shakes his head and sighs, just one soft huff, before he leans back on his hands, tipping his face up. He's not crying anymore and the red flush has faded to pink around his eyes and high on his cheeks.

He turns to Eddie and smiles, chagrined and tired and beautiful, and Eddie... is sunk.

In the face of that expression Eddie has no other choice. "I knocked youdownonpurpose," he almost shouts into that smile. "I was being a jerk and you weren't looking. I didn't-- I didn't think you would fall. I just... I was an asshole."

And the guy... just... laughs.

Eddie doesn't know how to respond. He murnurs an apology. And the guy just laughs harder. Laughs until he's crying again.

"I'm gonna be honest," Eddie says. "I'm not sure what to do here. Are you okay? Is this, like, a breakdown?"

The laughter eventually fades into a few stuttering gasps.

Eddie pulls the bandana out of his pocket and offers it over. The guy takes it and mops at his streaming eyes, dries his face.

The guy turns to face Eddie. The mad light of laughter is gone but so are the tears. Now it's just... calm.

They're still on the curb in the middle of the city. People are passing by, cars and bicycles and other pedestrians. Noise and light and life all around them.

But this moment with this guy feels like...

When Eddie was a kid he was terrified of storms. It felt like every boom of thunder was the moment his home would come crashing around him, like rain would wash his family away, the lightning would burn them all down.

His mom didn't have any patience for him getting upset, more interested in her own nightmares than Eddie's and going to his dad would just make things worse. It wasn't until he moved in with Wayne that storms changed for him.

The first thunderstorm that came crashing down on their trailer sent Eddie screaming into the little hallway, pressing himself to the wall as the lights flickered overhead.

Wayne found him there, curled in a ball on the floor and immediately sat down beside him, gathering Eddie's gangling limbed form into his own lap and rocking him through his sobs until the storm was over.

Once it had passed Wayne carried Eddie out onto the grass in front of the trailer. Eddie remembers pressing his face into Wayne's flannel shirt, letting the soft worn fabric absorb his tears and all the time Wayne humming and swaying them side to side.

When Eddie was ready he looked up. He expected a field of devastation, trailers thrown around like kids toys, trees uprooted, fire and havoc.

But it was quiet. Calm. It felt like the world had just let out a big breath.

Eddie was back in that moment now. This guy had clearly been through a storm and now he was on the other side.

"You wanna get a coffee," Eddie hears himself say.

The guy smiles. "I, uh, I need to get my phone taken care of."

"We can do that first," Eddie says. "Its my fault anyway and i know a guy who can probably fix it."

"Yeah," the guy asks.

Eddie nods. "Yeah. Um... I'm Eddie. By the way."

The guy smiles again, something like the sunrise breaking out across his face. "I'm Steve."

[hotchner-edu]

Pandora's Box | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: During a girl's night with the BAU girlies, a game of truth or dare may just be the cause of Aaron's odd behavior.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!F!Reader

Warnings: mentions of the devil's tango

The smell of freshly microwaved popcorn and cheeto puffs clung to the air of Penelope's apartment unit, the ringing of near-delirious laughter complementing the scent.

Emily is laying flat on the floor by Penelope's sofa, hair splayed out as she clutches her stomach. "Oh my god! You did not do that!" She laughs out, tears gathering in her eyes as JJ blushes a little and shrugs.

You four are gathered in the living room, fingers stained from snacking while playing the team's favorite party game— truth or dare. It was the night of the long-awaited girl's night, and you were all practically bouncing off the walls.

"It's not my fault! Anyway!" JJ chuckles and tries to change the topic, turning her head toward you, eyes glimmering in mischief. "Y/N, truth or dare?"

You groan and shovel some popcorn into your mouth. "Truth."

Penelope and Emily giggle in the background, knowing JJ always had some hard hitters when it came to truth or dare.

JJ grins widely and leans forward a bit. "Who in the team would you do seven minutes in heaven with?"

You let out an outraged gasp. "Jennifer Jareau! What are we? In high school?"

The blonde just laughs loudly and grins. "Oh come on! You only hate the question because you're the one that has to answer."

"Exactly." You deadpan jokingly and groan, preparing to answer when Emily interjects.

"And you can't say any of us!"

Frowning, you narrow your eyes at the woman. "Well, I was going to say you."

Emily smirks cheekily and slides her phone toward herself as she sits up, finally recovering from her laughing fit earlier. "I know, but that's cheating."

Huffing, you watch her throw her phone aside somewhere as they all stare at you eagerly. "Geez... okay, fine! Hotch! I'd do seven minutes in heaven with him." You practically shout in faux exasperation.

Penelope squeals and shakes your shoulders as JJ and Emily raise their eyebrows.

"Really?" Emily asks in shock, chuckling and leaning back on her arms.

"Well, yeah. I mean... hello. Are we all going to pretend he's not sexy?" You ask bluntly, inciting another round of squeals from Penelope as she gets ready to endlessly tease you about your admission.

JJ shrugs with a satisfied smile, pleased that you chose to answer so boldly. "Honestly, I thought you'd say Spence."

"Spencer is cute and I love him, but... c'mon. Like I have to restrain myself from slamming my head into my desk every time Hotch raises his voice at someone. And god! Don't get me started on his arms." You gush, playing up your lovestruck tone but being completely honest.

"Easy tiger." JJ mumbles under her breath with an amused smile.

Emily wiggles her eyebrows and grins. "Oh? Come on, don't skimp on the details."

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. "You guys are vultures." You say jokingly and throw a piece of popcorn at her.

Penelope munches on a cheeto and shakes her head. "No, no! You never told us you felt this way for him, so we need answers!"

You concede, feeling tired of bottling up your crush anyway. "Alright, alright. Yes, I like him. I mean, it's hard not to." You explain sincerely before becoming playful again, "I think he covered me from an explosion once and I almost died feeling his hands on my waist. Like, how is it possible for someone to have such delicious arms."

"Delicious?" Emily echoes with an amused snort at your choice of adjective.

JJ snickers and nudges your foot with hers. "Careful, you're about to start drooling."

You nudge your foot back against hers and try to suppress the heat that's creeping up your neck. Unfortunately for you, Penelope is just getting warmed up.

"So, would you... y'know... do the devil's dance with him?" Penelope asks coyly, giving you a teasing smile.

"Hey, my turn is over now!" You say and chuckle, shaking your head at their antics.

Though, you should have known that they wouldn't let you get away that easily.

The three of them stare at you with puppy eyes, causing you to squirm on the spot. "Geez, yes, I would. I mean, he seems like he could use the stress relief." You joke before quickly adding, "And I'm only telling you guys because you guys look ridiculous with those expressions!"

"Ridiculous or not, it worked." Emily smirks victoriously.

Luckily, they seem to take pity on you after grilling you so hard, and they move on with the game.

The next morning, you're starting to regret having stayed up with the girls until three in the morning. Your eyes feel like they're being pressed down by bowling balls as you yawn for the fifth time in ten minutes.

Emily is in a similar state as you, head lazily propped on one hand as she sluggishly signs off on some reports in front of her.

“Let’s never do that again.” You grumble just loud enough for Emily to hear, rubbing your eyes.

She chuckles under her breath and nods a bit in agreement, eyebrows raising a bit. “Yeah, or let’s just get drunk and pass out like normal people.” She jokes.

You both snicker softly until you see JJ hurrying toward Hotch’s office with a stack of files in her arms. “Ah…” you say with a slow blink.

“3… 2… 1…” Emily counts down playfully, just as Aaron stands up and leaves his office.

“BAU team— conference room, now.” He calls out smoothly, his eyes catching yours for the briefest second before he’s practically marching off.

You stand up and stretch your arms, watching as your team starts heading over for a new case briefing.

Glancing back toward Emily, you frown tiredly. "How is JJ so peppy today?"

"Perks of motherhood?" Emily suggests and shrugs.

You and her slowly trudge toward the stairs, catching up with Derek who seemed a bit hungover.

The man pauses and glances between you and Emily, grinning playfully. “You both look like hell. Fun night?”

“Not as fun as yours, I’m sure.” Emily chuckles as the three of you walk into the conference room. You’re about to head to your usual chair when you see Aaron sitting in the chair next to it.

You pause in your step and look back at Emily. Of course, seats weren’t assigned, but there had always been an unspoken rhythm of the team occupying the same seats.

Tilting your head a little, you can see some of your team members momentarily questioning it, but shrug it off as they sit down.

“Huh…” Emily says under her breath and hides a smirk, tapping your lower back to usher you to sit down. Aaron had stolen her usual spot, but she didn’t seem all that perturbed by it.

You sink down into your chair, keenly aware of your proximity to his warm body as JJ hurries to the head of the table to turn on the monitor.

As she begins to summarize the details of the case and the descriptions of the victims, you’re only half listening. Aaron keeps subtly shifting in his spot, and his knee even bumps into yours a few times.

You would definitely need to reread the file on the jet.

Aaron speaks up as JJ concludes with the details, voice low and level. “The request is urgent, so wheels up in thirty.”

The team begins moving immediately, and as you’re closing the file in front of you, you feel Aaron’s hand land on the back of your chair as he gets up. You tense a little as you could feel how close his hand was to your shoulder, trying to suppress the heat crawling up your chest.

As everyone files out of the meeting room to go grab their go-bags, Emily is immediately joining your side as she speaks under her breath. "That was weird."

"It was nothing." You try to brush it off, ignoring Emily's uncertain look.

Well. Maybe it wasn't nothing.

The moment the team arrived at the New Haven precinct in Connecticut, the atmosphere was off, to say the least. Of course, it was never enjoyable to have to look at pictures of mutilated victims, or deal with officers acting independently, but the feeling you were getting was a bit ominous.

"Is it just me or does something feel different?" You whisper to JJ as she finishes up a phone call.

She looks at you and tilts her head a bit, eyes filled with concern. "Not really... why? Do you think something's off with the profile?"

You shake your head and look away sheepishly. "No, not with the case. Just... with the team?" Your words come out as more of a question as you try to articulate the emotions swirling inside of you.

"Oh. I haven't noticed anything, but we can talk when we get back to the hotel if you want?" She offers with a kind smile.

"Yeah. Thanks, Jaje..." You say softly and try to redirect your focus back onto the case.

Stepping back, you get ready to return back to discuss the unsub's possible hideout locations with Spencer.

Before you can get far, you hear JJ calling for you again. "Could you tell Hotch that the city's agreed to hold a press conference in two hours?" JJ speaks up, eyes telling you that she had a lot on her plate at the moment.

"No problem. I'll see you in a bit." You nod at her and smile before spinning on your heel to look around for Aaron.

You spot him almost immediately, hunched over a desk and flipping through some papers as the police chief hurries away from him, barking out orders to some of the officers scattered around their desks.

"Hotch. JJ said that a press conference will be held in two hours. Spencer and I have narrowed down some locations, so we'll need to work quick." You practically word vomit, trying to ignore your racing heart.

Aaron straightens up and turns to look at you. "Alright, good. Rossi and Prentiss are on their way back too." He says, reaching back to the desk for his cup of coffee, still steaming as he raises it up to his face.

Your eyebrows rise up a bit and you smile softly. "Another cup? That's like your fourth one today."

The man gives you a small smile and nods, letting himself relax a bit. "Yeah, just for some stress relief." Despite how casual his tone was, the inflection of his voice for the very last words has you freezing on the spot.

You choke on your spit a bit, and he keeps his eyes on you. "Are you alright?" He draws out, mouth twisted in concern, but his eyes swirling with a bit of humor.

"Perfect." You wheeze out a bit and give him a strained smile before hurrying away.

Fortunately, you're not forced to overthink his words and the flashbacks of your girl's night confession to go with it, as the unsub makes a critical slip-up after JJ's press conference is broadcasted.

It's only after the unsub is being transported away for booking that you're able to come back down from the adrenaline. You're sitting beside Emily on the curb stretching your tired legs as she scrolls through her phone.

"So he really hasn't called you back? What an asshole." You mumble with a frown as she updates you about the guy she's been going on dates with for the past month.

"Back to the drawing board, I guess." She sighs with a noncommittal smile. Suddenly, you see her tense up, face drawn into a disbelieving gape as she pauses in her scrolling. "Oh my god."

"What? What's wrong?" You ask and turn to face her in worry.

"I called Hotch." She says blankly, slowly looking up at you with shell-shocked eyes.

"Okay...?" You trail off in confusion, eyebrows knit together.

"On Sunday. It says here that I called Hotch." She shows you her phone screen and there at the third slot of the call log is Aaron's contact. It wouldn't have been alarming to you had you and the girls not been together for the entirety of Sunday, but you all were, plus the call history was timed to have occurred at eleven pm.

"No way... check how long the call was." You whisper hurriedly, watching as she hurries to press the information button, nearly calling Aaron on accident in the process.

"Three minutes..." She breathes out in shock.

"No way..." You lean back and slap a hand over your mouth. "I think he heard my confession about him."

"What?" Emily hisses at you in panic, looking around at your teammates who were scattered around the sea of haphazardly parked Buicks.

You nod and rub your temples. "Earlier at the station, he made a comment about needing a stress relief."

"Okay, but that could mean nothing." Emily tries to reassure you, sputtering a little as she tries to come up with alternative explanations.

"I don't think so, Em." You groan and lean your head against her shoulder. "We've both noticed he's been acting different."

"Oh gosh... Did I butt-dial him?" She asks in shock to no one in particularly, laying her head against yours.

Chuckling dryly, you suddenly remember how she had been tossing her phone around during the game. "Yeah... I think it's even worse because I was sober when I said it."

"If it makes you feel better, I've done far more embarrassing things while sober." She says, staring off into the distance.

"I believe that." A small huff leaves you, tone subdued as a small smile of acceptance takes shape on your face. "Oh, and Em?"

"Hm?"

Your eyes flicker to Hotch's figure in the distance as he chats with Derek, arms crossed across his chest. "If I give you my resignation letter, will you give it to Hotch for me? I think I'm going to flee the country."

Much to your chagrin, Emily bands together with Spencer to convince you to not resign, having the younger agent ramble on about the adjustment process of finding a new job and the statistics of people who struggle with getting acclimated to a new work environment.

So rather than slipping your neatly packaged resignation letter onto Hotch's desk, you've taken to hiding out in Penelope's lair while you finish up your paperwork for the case.

Luckily, your bright-eyed friend allows you to pull up a chair at her desk, not even making a peep when you accidentally knock over one of her figurines.

You're hunched over as you write hurriedly, posture taking on a form that would make shrimps envious. As you're finishing up the last few pages of the report, a knock on Penelope's ajar office door draws both of your attention.

Standing with a hand on the door handle, Aaron is gazing at you with his eyes squinted a little due to the dimness of the room. "Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

His voice is calm, giving no hints as to what he's feeling as he cracks open the door a bit more. Penelope gives you a side glance before slowly swiveling her chair back around to pretend to work.

"Sure." You say almost inaudibly, awkwardly making your way out of the door as his eyes follow you.

Once you're both out in the hallway, he shuts the door and nods for you to walk a few paces forward to minimize the chances of your lovable tech genius eavesdropping.

"I'm almost finished with my report, sir." You say softly, stopping when you both arrive at the end of the corridor.

Aaron lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. "That's not what I'm here to talk to you about."

Mutely nodding, you wait for him to continue as your eyes move down to stare at the glossy floor.

"I'm sure you know by now, but Prentiss accidentally called me this weekend while you guys were talking." He says softly, beginning to look a bit shy. "And I just wanted to ask if you had meant what you said that night."

Your face is blistering with warmth as you try to deduce the best course of action. "I... yes. I'm sorry. I know that it must have been weird to hear, especially because I'm your coworker. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Aaron rests a hand on your arm to stop you before you can offer to resign out of shame, a warm smile painting his face. "It's okay. It wasn't weird for me... I just wish I didn't have to find out from a butt-dial." He chuckles and rests his hand on your arm.

You practically melt at the touch and you blink in shock. "Oh..."

"Honestly, I'm a bit out of practice when it comes to this kind of thing, but I was wondering if I could take you to dinner this Saturday." He asks softly, looking shyer than you've ever seen him before.

"I would like that." You respond breathlessly, not sure if you were dreaming.

Aaron grins and looks down at his shoes for a second as he tries to compose himself. "I'll pick you up around seven, if that works for you?"

"Yeah, that's perfect." Whatever future plans you had for Saturday were automatically being scrapped anyway.

"Great." He nods and gazes at you, his hand moving from your arm to your hand. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he steps back and allows you to get back to work in Penelope's lair.

As you're trekking down the hall with a giddy smile, you hear him calling your name. You turn around and see him smirking at you a bit.

"And just so you know, I like having my arms around you too."

[taeyongdoyoung]

lobos, we cannot stop hunting

summary: the full moon comes and you insist on staying with your best friend despite his valiant warnings to make you run away from him... pairing: werewolf!chan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: *takes a deep breath* heat suppressants, hugging, werewolf transformation, kissing, making out, hair-pulling, eating out, begging, fingering, overstimulation, consent is established multiple times, slightly mean dom!chan but overall a sweetheart, praise+degradation, size kink (duh), unprotected sex on the floor, knotting, breeding kink, mating *exhales* author's note: happy halloween, baby stays!!! 🐺 make sure to get some yummy treats and always remember to say the magic words please and thank you 😈 but ESPECIALLY please as the king of the wolves taught us 😉🛐 word count: 1.8k

"It's a full moon tonight," your werewolf best friend Chan says.

"So?" you murmur, not even bothering to look up from your phone. Those F1 reels that keep popping up on your feed are so interesting! "You've got your pills and stuff? You'll be fine, same as always."

"I ran out, actually," Chan scratches the back of his head nervously.

You put down your phone. Sorry, sexy F1 guys, you can wait.

"Can't you get more?" you ask him.

"No, my doctor is out of town. It's his anniversary with his wife and his phone is turned off."

"Goddamnit, Chan, and you tell me that now?" you are immediately worried about your best friend.

Before he started these pills, Chan told you that the full moon was like really bad on him. As in, he was completely out of control and had these...urges that he had to take care of by himself. Basically, he was in a lot of pain. He's been using these pills for the last two years and they've been working miraculously. Chan was pretty much like a human during the usually dangerous for werewolves full moon. Thankfully, his doctor has been very helpful in giving him plenty of these amazing pills.

"I'm sorry...I thought I had one left but I must have miscalculated."

"Chan, I keep telling you to write these stuff down in advance," you shake your head. "What are you going to do tonight?"

"Suffer through it, I guess. I was just giving you a heads-up so you can get out of here...like right about now."

"What? No way I'm leaving you alone!" you argue passionately. "What if you die?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I won't. But you don't get it, without my pills, I could unwittingly put you in danger. My best chance to make sure I'm not a menace to civilized society is to lock the door and tie myself up or something."

"That sounds horrible!" you cry out, feeling intense sympathy for your best friend. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"You have to!" Chan insists. "I would hate myself if I hurt you."

"You won't!" you keep trying to persuade him. "I trust you more than anyone else in the universe."

Chan shakes his head, still hesitant.

"Please, you should leave before the moon comes up."

Little does he know it has already begun to rise...

"No, I'm not leaving you," you keep saying and wrap your arms around him.

Chan desperately tries to push you away. But it is too late.

As the moon's power grows, so does his. The only thing that prevents you from continuing to embrace him is his oncoming transformation. Your arms fall weakly to your side as you witness the impossible. His generally tender, adorable features quickly turn into sharp, wolflike and kind of intimidating ones, if you have to be honest. But this is your best friend, your Chan, you keep reminding yourself. And all the fear disappears from your body. As you kneel down next to him, you run your hand through his soft fur, trying to pet him.

He initially snarls and tries to scare you off but the more you insist, the more he relaxes under your gentle touch. God, you can't believe he was afraid he'd harm you. He's just...a big puppy.

You can't resist the temptation and you hug him again. He's so fluffy you're gonna die! And then, the unimaginable happens. He fucking purrs! Oh dear, if you had already been having a hard time trying to hide your feelings for your best friend, then seeing him like this would surely be your demise.

Then, unexpectedly, he shifts back to his human form, taking you by surprise. One, because that was faster than you'd expected. Two, because he's entirely naked, but doesn't seem perturbed by it. You try your best to look him in the eyes because uh...you're still not sure where this is going.

"Please, go, I don't think I can control myself any longer," Chan begs.

"Control what?" you're so confused. "I already witnessed you in your wolf form, you seem pretty chill."

"It's not my wolf form you should be scared of," Chan warns darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you don't get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I'll fuck you until you pass out. And maybe even after that."

Oh? Wait...OH!!!

"Was that supposed to be a threat or a promise?" you quirk your eyebrows at him.

"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually excited by the prospect?" Chan wants to make sure.

"I mean...don't threaten me with a good time," you shrug calmly.

Chan kneels next to you, grabbing your hands tightly.

"I'm serious right now, don't play with me."

"What makes you think I'm not serious? I trust you, I want you, I lo- Uh, I like you a lot, whatever you do, that won't change," you mentally curse yourself for almost saying the big L-word. You hope he didn't catch that.

Judging from Chan's expression, he seems pretty satisfied with your statement.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he whispers and kisses you harshly, biting your lips and making a mess.

Your mouths are linked by an unending streak of saliva, but honestly you couldn't care less as he claims you, pushing his tongue deeper down your throat, gripping your hair with his fingers for better access. You are already melting. You spoke too soon. You are definitely not ready for this. But you wouldn't be able to make him stop, even if you wanted to.

"Last chance," Chan breaks the kiss to give you the opportunity to back out. To get out of here while you still can.

"Do your worst," you challenge him recklessly and he kisses you again, even harder than before if that is possible.

You know that your best friend, despite his shy and cute demeanour, is physically stronger and bigger than you, but seeing him like this, completely losing control is such a thrill you make sure to commit the picture to memory as vividly as you can.

Chan takes off your clothes in a hurry and just like a hungry wolf, attacks your pussy. And starts devouring it as if it's his last meal on Earth. He doesn't even make the effort to get to the couch, which is so close. He just takes you right there, on the floor. You shake uncontrollably, but he grips your thighs to stop you from moving.

"Please, please, please," you keep repeating even though you have no idea what you're asking for. For him to keep going? For him to stop? You don't know anymore.

"I like it when you beg," Chan smirks against your folds and dives back in, swimming in your water.

It doesn't take you long to burst, completely letting go for him.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he praises you, not giving you time to recover and tracing circles around your entrance with his big fingers.

"No, you," you whisper weakly, trying to make him slow down by pushing his hand away. Needless to say, your efforts are in vain. "I'm s-sensitive."

Chan laughs cruelly.

"You can take it," his words are meant to be reassuring but they're not, as he sticks his finger inside of you.

It's just one but it's already so thick you are beginning to lose your mind.

"C-chan, p-please," you cry for him.

"What is it, sweetheart? You want another?" he mocks your lack of coherence and adds a second finger without waiting for your approval.

"N-no, I c-can't," you shake your head desperately.

"Yes, you can," Chan seems fully convinced, adding a third finger. "You're so tiny, gotta stretch you up real good to be able to take my cock next. Don't you want that, babygirl?"

"Yes, I want it," you are quick to agree and do your best to relax for his big fingers.

"Gonna let me take this sweet pussy with my wolf cock? Claim you as mine? Give you my pups?" he asks gently, his unrestrained actions in complete contrast with his sweet words.

"Yes, yes! Gonna let you breed me like the stupid bitch I am," you answer, degrading yourself in the process.

"That's what I like to hear, darling," Chan praises you and makes you come again on his fingers.

You are almost about to pass out. But somehow you manage to hold on for the next part. You want to feel it. Every second of it.

"Are you sure?" he asks once again, melting your heart.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reaffirm your belief in him.

Chan doesn't wait for a second offer and slides his cock inside of you. Fucking hell, if you thought his fingers were pretty huge, his manhood is on a whole different level. You try to adjust to his monstrous size and focus on his beautiful eyes instead. He's still your Chan, your sweet-

"Fuck, your pussy's so small, gonna rip you in half," Chan grunts loudly.

Okay, not so sweet after all.

"Please, don't. Or do, it's fine by me," you attempt to make a joke.

He laughs and kisses you again, going in deeper. You wrap your hands around his neck in a tremendous effort to ground you, help you remain conscious through it all.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chan keeps talking meanly. "Want me to ruin that tiny pussy of yours?"

"Yes, yes, I want it all," you repeat mindlessly, not caring about the consequences anymore.

Then, as if by some miracle, you feel his cock growing even more while inside of you. Is that even possible? You thought it was just a myth.

Luckily, you're wetter than ever and your pussy easily swallows his knot.

"Gonna fuck you full of my cum, make you my mate, is that okay?" Chan wants to be sure.

"It's okay, Chan, I'll be your mate," you promise, not even sure what that means. But whatever it is, you're fine with it, as long as it's with Chan...

Then, he releases his wolf seed inside of your pussy, making you feel so full, so warm, so complete.

"Take it, baby, I know you can," he reassures you and you do your best to accept his overflowing victory.

It is a total mystery how you still haven't passed out. But you're grateful for it. You'd like to treasure this moment forever.

"I don't think I'll be able to let go of you anytime soon," Chan chuckles softly, still inside of you.

"That's alright, I think I can get used to this," you respond happily, kissing him again.

"Great. 'Cause I don't plan to ever stop hunting you, my sweet little prey," Chan vows.

"I am but a willing victim to whatever it is the full moon did to you," you smile contentedly.

"And if it's not just the full moon?" Chan asks, biting your earlobe playfully with his sharp teeth. "What if I want to have my way with you every night?"

"Who needs sleep anyways?"

The End

[rileysluvr]

literally just könig jacking off to you and being delusional idk

He’s tossing and turning in bed, and he can’t seem to get comfortable no matter what he does. He had ditched his shirt after around an hour of staring up at the dark ceiling and feeling like his chest was going to cave in, but the sensation still wouldn’t leave him even after. Like it’s clinging on to every square inch of his body and eating away at him, similar to his tight shirt before being removed, though refusing to dissipate after the multiple attempts in distracting himself.

He’s burning up, and he feels it most beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. He stretches his back and shoulders against his mattress, but it gives him no relief. And he needs that relief, so desperately, he thinks he may just die if he goes another minute longer in this state. The twitching in his muscles with the compulsion that plagues them are far stronger than his mind. He huffs a final exasperation, mutters some broken and degrading swears in German, and ultimately, he gives in.

He swipes his unusually cold palm over his face before dragging it down his chest, trailing across his abdomen and following the wake of soft hair that disappears beneath the peaking waistband of his boxers. His fingertips stretch the band as they dip beneath it, and his breathing is becoming heavier yet weaker, more shaky-like, as they creep closer to where he needs attention the most.

He’s teasing himself, involuntarily and painfully. Perhaps this is his last attempt to allow himself a second thought, think twice before he commits such a dirty act on military grounds. But his mind is far too fuzzy to pay attention, it’s just been so long.

His hand finds his cock, exhaling a shaky breath at the forbidden contact, this is his last chance to turn back. His boxers are growing to be too tight around him, and this time he won’t be able to just put up with it until his thoughts dissipate. He needs release, and soon. It won’t be much, it’s only once, and then he can finally sleep, he convinces himself.

He pulls his boxers down his pelvis, leaving them just below where his hard cock is now free. He wraps his fist around his base, fingers enveloping each vein that bulges with desperation. He groans ever so softly, jaw slacked and eyes closed as goosebumps coat his chest and arms. It’s mere seconds before his mind is plummeting into uncontrollable thoughts and damned-worthy desires.

It’s your hand, he’s already imagining. It’s your smaller fingers around his cock, not enough to compensate for his size but still a hundred-times better than any fist could work. He knows you’d make it work. You’re clever like that, far more than he is.

It’s your thighs straddling his as your arm moves up and down at an excruciating pace. He needs your weight on him so fucking bad, preferably on his shoulders and face as he’d hold you down on his mouth. Fuck, he needs to taste you so bad.

It’s your voice that would talk him through it, command him on what to do until he’s broken down to the young, naive, want-to-be soldier he once was. He’ll do anything you say. He’ll walk through Hell and back if you tell him to. Hand on his heart, honest to whatever god may be out there. Smack him around.

Anything you say.

And it’s him who would satisfy your every want with unending diligence to thank you. Just fucking use him, already.

He couldn’t shake the thought, no matter how hard he tried.

No matter how dirty he felt imagining his coworker in such a position, rather than a woman of what he thinks his type should be, or even an actress from a porn magazine. No matter how unlikely it was that he’d have a chance with you, it’s downright embarrassing. And no matter how heavy that guilt sat in his gut, his fist only squeezes tighter with his strokes, retaining that languid speed that has him gritting his teeth.

You flood his mind and you don’t even know the magnitude of it because you’re just a girl living your, perhaps slightly unconventional, life in the military, and he’s the coworker that people only look twice at to check if, yes, he really is that tall.

Flashes of your face, and that pretty body of yours in the most innocent of outfits, refuse to quit their tormenting of his mind, and here he was, fucking his fist to them at night like a desperate dog. He wants to see how your skin would contrast his pale and heavily scarred exterior, and how you would surely take him from his comfort zone and make him a better man.

He swipes his thumb over the head of his cock with a broken whine, collecting his pre and spreading it down his shaft as far as it goes; fuck, he’s so sensitive, and he just needs more. He can hear your voice in the back of his mind, conceptualizing what you would say as you guide him past his threshold. You’d be so sweet on him, just as you always are on the rare occasion you’re put in a position together where talking seemed the best option for pastime. You really are just perfectly perfect all around, he thinks, and he wants you to know it, so bad.

You’re too good for him, you’re too striking. Truthfully, while the thought of you taking care of him in his most vulnerable state has him thirsting like a dog and bucking his hips up into nothing but a mangled hand and cold air, he knows that’s not him. No, he needs to be of service, one way or another.

He knows he’d be on his knees in front of you, on the ground you walk on, looking up at you with big eyes as he’d place kisses all up and down your bare thighs, careful not to ruin your clothes. He’d worship every part of your body until all you knew was utter admiration, though he doubts you’ve ever gone a day without being honored for your being.

How could any man not leap at the opportunity to praise your every step in life, especially if you’ve taken him to bed?

He actually whines out into the empty space of his quarters, face all beet red and eyes bleary from surprising himself with such an act. Self-deprecating whispers linger in the back of his mind and will remain for when he’s later clearheaded, but for now, the only thing he can think to do is continue fisting his sensitive cock to the notion of being with you.

He’d let you mold him to whatever you wanted, he’d beg you to ride his face and get yourself off with his assistance. He wants to get drunk on your pussy, he knows he would. He knows you’d taste better than anything he has ever had, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he starts unless you say something. Punish him, even, for not doing it right or knowing both of your limits because he’s just such a hungry, greedy whore who only wants more, more, and more.

Should you ever let him into your life, he’d be better off quitting his job and dedicating his future to just making you feel so good and so loved, and so, so proud of him. He wants to hear you call him a good boy, maybe even a loyal slut. Etch it into his skull so he could never forget, as if that’d ever be possible.

He’d fuck you in any position you’d like, and he means any.

Lay on your back, legs spread and just begging for him to bury his face in your cunt, and he’ll listen like the good boy he is until you’re beyond satisfied. Stretch it out to hours if you please; the man has stamina that would put any gold-medalist to shame, and never once in his life, has he been a quitter.

“i’m good, i promise i am… i’ll be a good boy for you, please.”

Pin him to the mattress and ride him until he can’t think or speak, use him to reach your own high while taking him for all that he has because that’s all he’s there for, is to make you feel good. The strictest soldier would turn to putty under your hold.

“das ist—…s’too much, ich flehe dich—ngh—! bitte, bitte—”

Pull him into an abandoned building and make him fuck you on the cold, hard floor despite being at work, on the job. He would jeopardize even the highest value of intel for a piece of you.

“i’ll do anything, i swear… i’ll be quiet, i-i’ll let you use me… jus’ wanna make you feel good. it’ll make me feel good, too.”

Either way, he’s going to end up on his knees once again and, if you allowed, watch his pearly cum drip from your puffy cunt before taking two of his fingers and pushing it back in, words and babbles of endless praise slipping from his lips as he imagines the idea of starting his own little family with you.

His abdomen feels tighter just thinking of it, you, and his hand with a lethargic pace around his cock. His breathing is jagged, ruthlessly so, and it picks up when his fist does as well. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, dying whimpers spilling from his lips. Your name, as well, and he’s blushing more violently then ever. You’ve got a spell on him; he’s all yours, if you want.

Christ, what would you say to him right now? Scold him, berate him. Even slap him for jerking off to the mental image of you without your permission, and edge him until he cries like an abandoned baby. Call him pathetic and promise him he’ll never, ever have a chance because he is such a coward, and all.

Oh, but you’re just so sweet on him. He doesn’t think he’s ever even heard you swear, let alone insult someone. You go to such great lengths to lighten the mood, make people feel so safe and welcome around you. And your fucking laugh, Christ, your giggles are always music to his ears. Anything that isn’t praise would sound far too foreign in your voice for him to compute. With those soft, plump lips at his ear, cooing him through his high he’s gonna reach so early, so fucking soon— fuck, he's…

He’s gonna—

A soft knocking on his door causes his hand to stop and eyes to shoot open, lightly gasping for air as he was pulled just seconds away from his orgasm. He’s frozen, dead in his tracks, and he waits for it to happen again to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things. The one time, he succumbs to his perverse hankerings.

A few seconds go by before he hears the knocking once more, this time sure it was for him. He swiftly sits up and then stands, shoving his cock in his boxers and pulling his pants back up. He leans down to grab his shirt, pulling it over his big head, introducing a new type of discomfort from before due to the cold sweat he broke coating his chest. He’s reaching for his helmet when there’s a voice coming from the other side of the door, and the hardened soldier nearly jumps in surprise.

“König?”

Oh, fuck. His entire body tenses up at the wake of your voice. Outside his room, right now, when he was just fucking his fist to the image of you. He couldn’t begin to describe or label what he’s feeling, but it’s something along the lines of utter shame and mortification. He mutters a quick and defeated curse under his breath, aggression only aimed at himself.

You’re speaking up again before he even has time to think, granted his mind was spinning and he was making no move to answer you. He’s frozen, stuck in space. Time seemed to race by him without warning, and he hated it.

“Are you awake?”

Your voice is gentle, as always, and so quiet in order to not wake anyone else in the corridor. He’s surprised he could understand you so well, then again, he’d recognize your voice from a klick away.

Could you hear him from outside his door? He wouldn’t ever be able to recover. His hard cock twitches in his pants at the thought of being caught in the act of jerking off to you, and he shakes his head, fighting back the groan boiling in his chest at the simple, yet so fucking intricate, idea of it. He’s a mess.

He decides against the hood, which would most likely prove a mistake as he could literally feel the heat exuding from his face. He knows his hair is a sore sight and his clothes are wrinkled beyond repair. You’ve ruined him, and you don’t even know it.

He swallows thickly as he trudges over to the door, attempting to clear his throat and stabilize his breathing, and his hot palm lands on the screaming door handle.

[blkkizzat]

thinking of sucking honey off satorus long juicy d!ck

lmfaoaoaoa that was not what i was expecting coming to check my inbox but im already on demon time so lfg!!

so i headcanon that gojo loves lovingly picking at you, his lil wifey, like the man will just say the most out of pocket crazy ass never-been-touched-degen-ass-shit just to get a reaction from you or sneak up on you just to scare you so he can grope you lmfao. he especially loves doing this shit out of the blue when you are preoccupied with something else. he loves how your cheeks puff out and your face warms as you fluster and hit him as you shoo him off every time.

its one of the cornerstones of your relationship and he's been doing it for years. so he doesn't expect you ever to get desensitized to it enough to return his energy.

thats where he fucked up.

the next time he tries to fluster his cute lil wifey is when you are in the kitchen preparing a nice charcuterie board to take over to Utahime's soon cause all the girls were getting together to binge watch Love Is Blind.

Sneaking up behind you, Gojo wraps his strong muscular arms around you giving you a sloppy wet kiss on the neck before a firm pinch on your ass cheek as he reaches over you to steal some meat and cheese off your tray. "S'TORU!!!" You were so focused on making the presentation of your tray perfect you nearly jump out of your skin flinging the honey you were spooning into a small jar all over Gojo—all over Gojo's dick, to be clear.

the crotch of his pants now soiled with a large sticky glob of honey. not missing an opportunity to tease you Gojo pulls down his blindfold looking at you with his panty-dropping-pussy-dripping-inducing smolder.

"this honey ain't gonna suck itself off sugar lips, come lick this Bit-O-Dick baby."

"bet."

"huh?"

Gojo looks shocked and his blindfold falls down completely as you untie your apron, casting it aside.

"—babe!"

you don't respond with words only your hands when you force him back until his legs hit a kitchen table chair and you push him down to sit.

"good boy."

manspread, Gojo is clearly nervous, practically trembling in anticipation now. It was a joke! Sweating bullets and hands shaking Gojo mind is racing not actually thinking you would fulfill one of his life long fantasies of having your pretty mouth suck his dick off through his shorts. what is going on!?

nestling between his powerful thighs you look up at him with your bright doe eyes you innocently wet your lips. he had the perfect view of your cleavage, seeing just a sliver of your pebbled peaks when the front of your dress dipped lower. your soft hands snake up his leg to squeeze his inner thighs and spread them even wider almost to an uncomfortable stretch as the bulge under his pants visibly throbs through the material.

oh my god, you're actually gonna do this for him!

you haven't even touched his dick yet and its twitching like crazy.

"you ready, daddy?"

"i-i—er—yuhh..."

gojo can barely form words and they fumble out of him from him being embarrassingly hard. you'd see a patch of pre stain his pants if it wasn't for all the honey on his crotch. gojo's whole body is vibrating as he too eager for you to finally do something this fucking lewd for him. your mouth sensually opens to hover over his clothed cock. he can feel your moist breath puff over his length and its near unbearable. tongue extending out as you hover directly over him, gojo with his astute six eyes doesn't miss the small drops of saliva that bead on your sinful lil tongue, rolling down the tip to fall directly on his—

"—OOOH FUHHHHHHCK!!"

warmth spread over gojo's lap and you recoil back startled.

gojo literally came in his pants.

head tilted back his hips spasm up as he lets out a long shakey breath.

"whelp! i guess that's that then."

you hop up, dusting yourself off.

"—waiiiit huh!? babe!"

"nuh-uh toru i agreed to clean off the honey, that was my bad—you nutting yourself? that's your foul...although i have to be honest, i thought the peek you got of my tits would have done it, who would have thought it would have just been my tongue? you're a lil fuckin pervert, you know that babe?"

gojo looks more confused and forlorn as you return to finish packing up your charcuterie board.

"doesn't feel good to be teased now does it, baby? now that's really gonna stain if you don't go clean yourself up soon—sticky dick."

you laugh as you gather up your tray and head out.

leaving gojo to brood in your wake.

oh it was on now.

this was not supposed to turn into this lmfao. it just came out. lmfao also Bit-O-Honey is those old honey candies your granny always had in her purse. i had gojo say Bit-O-dick cause he sick like that fjehkfjhkfj.

gojo a menace. lock him up so i can finish these other fics lmfao. im not doing a pt2 to this lmfaooo it gotta end here plz—just imagine him tying you up and beating your doonies down when u get home as payback 😭

[borathae]

BTS Reaction to: Period Sex

Genre: Smut 

Gender: female

Warnings: period sex, mention of period blood, individual warnings per member if necessary

Wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: there was a time where i couldn't imagine period sex because of 🤪trauma🤪 now i'm over here eating it tf uppp 🧡

Namjoon

cw: subbish!Joon, guilt, idk why this got a lil angsty haha

He’d be the kind of guy to pull out instantly and then panic. “Baby, this is bad. This is really bad. You’re bleeding, oh god. What do we do?” 

“I’m bleeding? But I don’t feel anything.”

You’d sit up to check and Namjoon would be a mess, gripping his own hair and staring at the blood soaked sheets in horror.

“I knew that this would happen one day. Stupid Namjoon, why can you be careful once? Everything I touch, I break. I tried so hard to be gentle with you. Stupid Namjoon, I’m so fucking rough.”

“Huh? Joonie, don’t say that. I think it’s just my period.”

“Your period?”

“Yeah”, you’d touch your own folds, “yeah, that’s my period. It feels like it. Kinda gross, isn’t it?”

Namjoon would shake his head instantly. 

“It’s not gross. You’re not gross. Nothing about you’s gross”, he’d assure you with kisses to your neck and shoulders. 

“And you’re not stupid or rough”, you’d whisper with scratches to his scalp, “slip it in like this, Joonbug. Me sitting by the edge and you standing up. Wanna have my big boy all inside me as I hug him close.”

“I want to, I got soft though. Sorry, I panicked.”

“That’s okay. Look at me.”

Namjoon would gaze down at you, sighing dreamily as you slid his softened cock back inside.

“Let’s look at each other till you’re hard again.”

Namjoon would shudder and grip you as gently as possible.

“It, it won’t take long”, he’d promise you breathily.

“Good, that’s good. My handsome Joonie. You treat me so gently.”

“Baby…holy fuck…ahm…”

Seokjin 

He’d be so mature about it, but in a funny way because he knows that you are really embarrassed about it. Some people in your past were assholes about it, which made you insecure about the entire deal. So when it’d happen, he would be mature about it. You’d be on top, riding him with your head rolled back in bliss. One of his hands would be on your tits, playing with them, the other would be on your hip with his thumb on your clit, rolling slow circles. He wouldn’t notice it at first until hot, wet slick started to smear all over his thighs and crotch. So he’d lift you for a moment, looking up at you instantly to check if you had noticed. You wouldn’t because he’d have gotten you so far gone in bliss.

“Are you hurting, darling?” he would still check up on you just in case it isn’t your period.

“No, feels good…so good…”

“That’s good to hear. You feel so good too.”

“Oh god, Jinnie…”

He’d make you cum first and then would catch you as you fled into his arms with giggles. 

“Do you feel good? My darling, do you feel good?” he’d check up on you as his hips thrust up into your tightened heat. Honest confession, he’d be really into period sex because you get so wet and fucking warm and his cock would just LOVE to be inside you when you’re like this. So he’d definitely keep going after your orgasm ‘cause he’s pussy drunk for you.

“Yes”, you’d whimper and grip his hair, “please don’t stop.”

The confession would happen during aftercare, once he made you cum too many times to count. He’d make sure you’d be giggly and happy and only then he’d drop it.

“I want you to know that there is nothing about you which would ever gross me out.”

“No? Not even my nuclear stink farts?”

Seokjin would laugh with you.

“Okay maybe those, yeah.”

And you would laugh even harder and he’d be assured that it wouldn’t trigger you anymore.

“I’m just telling you because I noticed that you started your period.”

“I did?” you’d gasp and tense up just a little.

“It’s no big deal, we can wash it off.”

And he would be nervous for a moment until you relaxed again and chuckled.

“Oh god, no wonder it felt so slippery.”

“Mhm, yeah. It’s so hot. You were so wet.”

Yoongi 

Based on Suchwita and him confessing that he passes out when seeing blood, I feel like he’d be a mess lmaoo. If he knows that your period is coming or that it is already there and you fuck, he doesn’t get squeamish around the sight because he knows that it’s not technically blood blood. But if it comes as a surprise and he thinks that he hurt you to the point of bleeding? Boy will probably drop next to you all passed out and with a fainting-victorian-lady level of whimper. It’s honestly a little funny to imagine him dropping all xOx with his boner all bloody and his thighs all messy. You’d be the one having to keep him company until he wakes again. Once he does finally wake up, he’d instantly want to apologise (with tears and on his knees) but you’d stop him with a fond “it’s just my period, you little baby”, followed by a kiss and a chuckled, “how are you? I lost you for a moment.” 

“Not gonna lie, I’m a little traumatised. I thought that I’d hurt you.”

“Nope. You just fucked me so good, you fucked my period outta me.”

At that Yoongi’s cheeks would flush blood red and he’d stutter and mutter his words.

“Don’t say, say that oh my, my god.” 

To which you’d giggle and smooch him, “you’re such a cutie, Yoongi love. Let’s hop in the show and get clean, yeah?”

“Yeah, uh, fuck sorry for passing out. That was embarrassing.”

“It’s fine. I know you’re a big baby.”

“Hey! Not cool”, he’d whine with a pout, pouting harder when you tried to kiss it away just so you would try again.

Hoseok

cw: fingering

It would happen during foreplay. You’d be making out, he’d have two of his long fingers buried inside you and you’d pump his cock slowly. Tension would be at its breaking point, you’d both wanted the other abysmally. And so you gave in. Hoseok’s slickened fingers would grip the pillow.

“Wait!”

Too late, the mess was already on the fabric. You’d both be staring at the red spot, then ogle your middle.

“I, uh…” you’d begin, feeling nervous and a little insecure. Hoseok is a lovely, wonderful boyfriend but it’s still a little embarrassing to randomly start your period in the middle of something as sexy as intercourse. 

“I mean, the mess is already made. What bad is gonna do a little more?” he would instantly assure you because he’d sense your discomfort. He is honest. It happened before that you started your period during sex and he doesn’t think it gross. He’d actually be really excited about it because you are so much warmer and wetter when you’re on your period. You are also a lot more sensitive, which finally explains why he accidentally made you cum during foreplay. 

“Are you serious?” you’d gasp, but with an excited tingle in your stomach.

“Very. I won’t let a little blood stop me. Are you down too?”

“Yeah, uh, holy fuck Hobi. Yeah I am.”

“That’s my girl. Now spread those sexy legs of yours and let me fuck it out of you.”

You would follow instantly and seconds later he would slip his engorged cock into your dripping cunt while his fingers slipped to your clit and your name left him through gritted teeth. 

“So fucking wet. Gotta fucking love your pussy, fuck baby…”

Jimin

He’d be such a worried bean. It would happen during the soft, romantic kind of sex. You and he had been tangled up in missionary for a while. Body heats were raised, lips puffy from kissing and breaths sped up. He would have to break away for a moment to give his arms some rest. His hand would slip down to your middle to rub your clit, his eyes following his touch. “Baby, you’re bleeding!” his exclaim would be instant, his worry obvious in his voice, “holy shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You would sit up as best as possible to check it out yourself. You wouldn’t be in pain, so hearing his words would be confusing to you at first until you’d see his blood coated cock and your messy thighs.

“No, I uh, I guess I started my period. Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

At that Jimin would instantly jump into caring mode. He’d cup your face and kiss your lips as he’d whisper sweet words of encouragement.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so beautiful, my sweetheart. You’re not in pain, right?”

“No. No pain at all”, you’d sigh and grasp his hair because his hips would roll into you slowly and gently to distract you and get both of you back into the mood. His skilled hips wouldn’t be able to stay still now that he knew that the mess was natural and not made because of him being too rough.

“No pain?”

“No…pain…”

Jimin, who would feel you clench and tighten around him and who would taste every single one of your sighs, would lie you down gently again and slide his thumb back to your clit to rub her.

“Does this feel good to you?”

“Yes Mimi…so good…”

Taehyung 

cw: Dom!Tae, loving degradation ("my slut")

He wouldn’t say anything about it because he would have already had a gist. You get a certain way when your period is close, so he would have picked up on the signs. It would still come as a surprise because there would be far more blood than he imagined there to be. You’d be on your side with one leg bend around his waist as he fucked into you. He’d be kneeling, your thigh under him and between his own meaty thighs. His hips would be colliding with your ass with each deep, passionate thrust, his big hands would claim your soft body in strong grips and tender touches. You’d be moaning so much, shaking in his hold as he’d fuck the period horny out of you (you’d have been moody yet horny all day until he finally decided enough is enough and took care of it). One moment his cock would be glistening in your pleasure, the next it’s a deep red. The red would begin gushing out of you instantly, spreading all over his crotch and your ass and Taehyung would smirk, admiring it with blown out pupils and a throbbing cock. He fucked you good enough that your body finally gave up. That’s the kind of remedy he wanted to be for you.

“Am I fucking you good, mhm? Is my little slut finally satisfied?”

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

“Of course you are. That’s my pretty slut. Keep moaning for me. You’re such a good girl”, he’d growl and pound into you harder, gritting his teeth as you wailed for him in pure ecstasy. 

He wouldn’t mention it until after he drew multiple orgasms out of you and you’d be dripping in his seed. You’d be all cuddled and snuggled up and he’d kiss your face thoroughly with his strong arms around you.

“You started your period, by the way.”

“I did what?!”

“Mhm, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh god, this is so bad, I-”

“I said; don’t worry about it. I had a gist, I laid out a towel. Nothing’s gonna get dirty.”

“You had a gist?”

“Mhm, you get a certain way.”

“I do?”

“Mhm, you get cranky but horny. I know I can make you happy again with a good dicking down. Kinda wanted it to happen, which is why I fucked you like a slut.”

“You’re actually so annoying sometimes, oh my god”, you’d whine, making him chuckle and kiss your lips.

“Mhm, love you too.”

Jungkook 

cw: Dom!Kook, strength kink

Another candidate for worried bean, but he would try to be polite about it. The sex you and he would be having would be a little rough. You’d be on all fours, drooling all over the sheets as he’d rearrange your insides with skilled thrusts. He wouldn’t notice it at first, too preoccupied with having his head thrown back and moaning with closed eyes as your puffy cunt was milking him oh so good. His big hands would be gripping you, leaving marks and tender spots. It would honestly be so passionate and hot. Then he’d start feeling it. You’d get wetter and wetter and wetter. He’d just have to see for himself. He’d be cocky at first until he’d see the bloody mess all over his cock and thighs. Even your ass would be covered in it. He’d stop instantly, which would earn him your fingers gripping his hips in an attempt to get him to move.

“Don’t stop please, please.”

“Baby, I wanna tell you something.”

“What?” You’d move your head just enough that you could gawk at him, “now??”

“It’s really important. You should really know.”

“What is it?” you’d sound out of breath and a little annoyed. 

“I think you, uhm, started your period.”

“Really?” you’d tense up, move and squirm in an obviously embarrassed way. And Jungkook would instantly feel bad because he didn’t want to embarrass you. So he’d lie his muscular body over yours and kiss your neck and shoulders, intertwining his hands with yours so he could pin them into the sheets.

“That’s not gonna stop us, right?” he’d rasp, feeling you clench around him.

“You’re not grossed out?”

“Not in the slightest. You’re still comfortable, yeah? Nothing hurts?””

“No…just want you to move please.”

“Everything my babygirl wants. Mhm, I’m so lucky, I’ve got the prettiest girl in the world.”

[itadorey]

☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ [𝟖:𝟓𝟑 𝐩.𝐦.] 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

wc: 617, a repost from an old blog, gn reader, fluff

ignoring gojo satoru is not an easy feat, although you assume that you've gained some kind of proficiency at doing so throughout the years you've known him.

high school gojo was not someone you looked forward to seeing every day, not that 28 year old "i'm-the-strongest-jujutsu-sorcerer-in-the-world" gojo is any better. but, you will concede that maybe, just maybe, there is a tiny part of him that has indeed matured.

but then he goes and annoys nanami and you wonder if maybe he hasn't changed at all.

one of the main things about gojo satoru that bothers you is the fact that he knows he's attractive and powerful, and he doesn't mind reminding people about those facts every single day. you don't know if you should be attracted by the confidence he exudes or put off by his attitude.

yet when you're the one he's teasing (because he hates being ignored, especially by you), a cocky smirk on his face as he pulls his blindfold up to catch your eye, you can't help but feel the former. and your attraction to the white-haired sorcerer is only getting harder and harder to hide.

"just tell him how you feel," shoko drawls, taking a sip of her drink and ignoring your pointed look. you look around the room, making sure that nanami and gojo hadn't arrived yet. you turn your gaze back to shoko when she speaks once again. "it's not like we can't feel the sexual tension between the two of you whenever you're in the same room. to be completely honest, we're all getting tired of seeing the two of you skirt around your feelings for each other. even yaga."

"yaga?" you ask, a horrified expression on your face as you imagine your teacher-turned-principal witnessing the admittedly flirty (not to mention embarrassing) exchanges between you and gojo. "oh god. i don't know if i can face him again."

"who?" shoko asks. "yaga? or satoru?"

"both," you groan, letting your forehead fall onto the table. you look up when shoko pokes your side, and you see her tilting her head towards the entrance of the bar. standing at the entrance is nanami, a scowl on his face as gojo, hair unruly and sunglasses perched on his nose, hangs off his arm. a faint smirk spreads across nanami's face as he nods politely towards you, diverting gojo's attention towards you.

it's brief, lasting a mere second, but everyone in the room can see the way gojo's face lights up when his eyes land on you. he tilts his head down slightly, making sure that his view is unobstructed as he takes in your appearance. you can feel his bright, blue eyes burning into you, gaze soft as he takes in your after-work attire. visible only to nanami is the pink blush creeping up gojo's neck, bright against his pale skin as you wave them over.

nanami and shoko exchange tired looks as gojo slides into the seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and trying to distract you from your conversation with shoko as you continue to ignore him. shoko shakes her head softly, and nanami nods in understanding as he takes the seat next to you, immediately holding up a hand to flag down a waiter. the two of them pretend not to notice the way gojo's smile grows when you finally turn to face him.

sure, everyone might be tired of the way you and gojo are avoiding your very obvious feelings for one another, but the way gojo is looking at you in this very moment lets them know that it won't be long before he finally tries to sweep you off your feet.

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (36/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Lets get drunk part two - with new opportunities.

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hah. you thought you'd seen the last of me. feedback is appreciated!

"Okay," says Charles and sits back down next to you on the sun bed. He sets the basket down between you, with the necks of various bottles sticking out of it. "Are you more of a vodka girl or a tequila girl?" He pulls out two bottles and holds them out to you. 

You examine the bottles before raising your hands. "Neither, to be honest." You carefully pull the basket towards you and take a look inside. Your hands turn the containers slowly so you can read the labels better, and when a bottle catches your eye, you grin at your roommate. "Here."

Charles takes the bottle you hold out to him. "Peach?" He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "Quite summery."

You shrug your shoulders. "You promised to take me with you next summer so I could go swimming in the sea. I just want to prepare myself properly."

A smile spreads across his face. "Touché. All right." He reaches into the basket and fishes out two small shot glasses. He places them at the head of the sun bed to fill them with the peach liqueur. "You'll love it here during the summer. The sun is blazing, the sea is cold and the days are long." He carefully slides a glass over to you so that the contents don't spill over the rim. "It's like paradise."

You nod gratefully at him. "So now you definitely don't have a choice."

He looks at you, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," you sit up straight and pick up the shot glass. "You talked me up about the boat and summer at sea so much that you definitely have to bring me here next year." You grin at him. "So you have no choice but to take me with you."

"Oh no." He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and reaches for his glass as well. "So I guess I can't get rid of you at all, huh?"

You shake your head excessively. "No fucking way. You definitely won't get me off this boat in the summer. And the deal about us sharing the apartment is on anyway." You tilt your head. "Even if you really tried, you wouldn't get rid of me that easily." You hold out your arm so he can clink glasses with you. 

He looks you in the eye. There's a sparkle in his green ones as he knocks his glass against yours. "Thank God."

The peach liqueur tastes indescribably good and the longer you lie on the sun bed looking at the glowing Monaco in front of you, the more you drink of it. The stars above you twinkle and although it's getting colder, you're nice and warm. Whether it's the alcohol or Charles' laughter, you don't know. 

"You've met Arthur yourself," he says as you have to press your face into the pillow to stop your laughter echoing across the ocean. "I swear, his April Fool's jokes are the worst! And you never see them coming!"

You giggle into your pillow. "Tell me you didn't fall for it." Hesitantly, you peek over the hem of the pillow to see Charles' blushing face. You quickly push it back into your face and laugh. "Oh, Charles!"

Your roommate grabs his own pillow and hits yours with it. "Don't laugh at me! You'll be affected soon enough! And then I'm not going to be the one to rescue you."

As you slowly calm down and wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes, you put the pillow back behind your head and look at him. "Trust me - by then Arthur will like me enough that we'll form an alliance. Then he certainly won't play any tricks on me."

Charles looks at you, dumbfounded. "Excuse me? I thought you and I were friends! You're supposed to stand on my side!" With a shake of his head, he reaches for the peach liqueur and refills your glasses.

You grin at him. "I don't form alliances with people who fall for stupid pranks like that."

He pushes your glass over to you. "All traitors." He shakes his head again. "I thought at least I had you on my side."

You raise your glass to your lips. "I'm always on your side, Charles. You're my best friend," you assure him, although the sentence leaves a nasty taste in your mouth. You wash it down with the liqueur. "But I'm not going to let Arthur take the piss just to make you feel better."

"You're a great best friend," he says and pours the liqueur into his mouth. "Just you wait and see. I won't save you if my brother does decide to play an April Fool's joke on you."

"You wouldn't dare," you reply with a grin. "Your mom would give you hell if she knew you were abandoning me." You grab the liqueur and fill your glasses again. "After all, she likes me better than you."

Charles watches you fill his glass to the brim. He presses his tongue into your cheek before licking his teeth. "I wish you were wrong." He holds out his arm for you to clink glasses with him. "Here's to my family liking you better than me."

You try to suppress your grin. "Don't worry, Charlie. I like you all the more for it," the alcohol speaks out of you and when you hear what you're saying, the blood rushes to your face. You quickly clink your glass against his and drink the liqueur so you don't have to look at the Monegasque in front of you. 

As he puts his empty glass down, he grins at you. "'Charlie'? You're really going to give me a nickname?"

You roll your eyes and run your fingers through your hair so he doesn't notice your nervousness. "Don't worry," you try to play it down. Thank goodness he can't hear your rapid heartbeat. "I only use it when it's just us."

When you look at Charles again, he smiles at you softly. "I like the name," he assures you. "And if it stays your little secret and mine, I like it even more. It belongs only to you. Only you can call me that."

You smile at him before leaning back into your pillow and looking up at the stars. The night is clear, there isn't a single cloud in the night sky and the sea breeze on your face cools your alcohol-warmed skin pleasantly. You feel Charles lie down as well. 

"Do you want to spend the night at my mother's tomorrow?" he asks quietly. When you turn your head in his direction, he's already looking at you. "I usually spend the night there. Maman always gets delicious wine and when we all get together, the evening gets pretty long." When you raise an eyebrow with a smile, he continues. "And there are plenty of rooms in the house. You're welcome to choose one of them. I'd hate to go back home for Christmas," he adds. "Especially because my mom would be alone and -"

"Charlie," you interrupt him. "We can spend the night at your mom's. There's nothing wrong with that." You wink at him. "Besides, I want to have a drink with Arthur and then I definitely can't go home."

He exhales with relief. "Very good." He turns his head forward and looks up at the stars too. "It's going to be a nice evening. My maman cooks delicious food and then we always play something. It's usually Uno or charades. You've heard how Monopoly turns out for us."

You have to giggle. "I would really like to play Monopoly with you," you admit quietly. "And I would never steal money from the bank either."

Charles exhales. "I'll take your word for that. But Arthur is more cunning than you think. He would steal money from the bank and make it look like it was you. You definitely don't want to play Monopoly with him."

You shrug your shoulders. "Then again, maybe I'm smarter than you give me credit for." You look up at the night sky again. "Maybe I can outsmart Arthur and win."

Your roommate laughs out loud. "Then you'd have to get past me first. And I'm certainly not going to let you win just like that. Not after you said you'd team up with my brother and not stand by me when he pulls his April Fool's pranks."

Offended, you reach behind your head for your pillow to smash it into his face, but Charles is quicker and snatches the pillow out of your hand before you can hit him with it. "You suck, Charlie."

"You love me. Just admit it," he grins and hesitantly gives you your pillow back, risking being exposed to your attack again. 

But you merely wrap your arms around the pillow and hug it to your chest. Even through the feathers inside, you can feel how fast your heart is beating. 

"Of course," you try to play down the swirling feelings inside you and hope that he doesn't notice the trembling in your voice. Or the truth in your words. "I'll still try to beat you at Monopoly. Or Uno. Or charades." Offended, you lie back on your pillow and cross your arms in front of your chest. 

Charles sits up again and refills your shot glasses. He pushes it towards you like a peace offering. "Maybe I'll let you win," he smiles as you look at him. "After all, Christmas is the festival of love and I -" he continues, but is interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. 

You look at him in confusion. You'd love to know how he would have finished the sentence. "You have reception out here?" you ask him as he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. 

The Monegasque shakes his head and shows you his phone screen. "I had set an alarm clock."

You raise an eyebrow. "For what?" 

He points to the time with his finger. It's midnight and therefore officially Christmas. He looks at you with a grin. "I have a Christmas present for you." 

As he gets up from the sun bed and staggers onto the wood of the deck, you look at him indignantly. "No way," you reply, annoyed. "If I can't give you a present, then you can't give me one either." 

"Calm down, mon ami," he says, swaying slightly from left to right as he circles you. The alcohol seems to have hit him hard too. "I'll be right back." Without another word, he disappears into the interior of the yacht, leaving you on the sun bed. 

Annoyed, you sit up. 

The fact that you're not allowed to give him a present has almost ruined your friendship. Just the memory of his words that he wants nothing from you but your friendship sends a cold shiver down your spine. You would love to tell him that you want more from him than friendship, that you desire him, that you want him for yourself - that you love him - but no amount of money in the world would make you reveal your feelings to him. If he actually knew how you felt about him, you would certainly lose the only good thing in your life. And you wouldn't risk that under any circumstances. 

You run your fingers nervously through your hair. What could he possibly give you? You've never mentioned anything to him that he could possibly buy. And there's no way he'd change his mind in a day and confess his love for you. You'd have to be incredibly naive to believe that. 

It's not his fault that he doesn't feel the same way about you as you do about him. It's not his fault that his words have torn your heart apart. And it's not his fault that he can't take your feelings into consideration if you don't tell him about them. 

You take a deep breath and smile at him as he rejoins you. In his hand, he holds a brown envelope, which he hands to you as he drops back onto the sun bed next to you. When you look at him uncertainly, he nods at you. "Merry Christmas, mon ami."

Hesitantly, you open the envelope and pull out several pages of paper, held together at the top left corner by a paper clip. You immediately recognize your name on the first page, with Charles written underneath. The rest is written in French, which is why you look at your roommate even more confused than before. "What's this?"

Irritated, he takes the pages from your hand and lets his eyes wander over the letters for a moment before he hits his forehead a little too hard with the palm of his hand. "Shit. I thought they'd printed it out in English," he says, handing the papers back to you. I'm really sorry."

You raise an eyebrow. "And what's this?" Your eyes wander over the paper, trying to identify any of the words, until you unsuccessfully put the papers down in front of you. 

"This, mon ami, is an employment contract," he explains with a smile and leans back a little. 

"An employment contract?"

" Mh-hmm." He licks his lips once. "Remember when Joris mentioned that he had a new job?"

You nod. Of course you remember. 

After you'd been to the place where Charles had been with his father in the past, you both went to Joris' and had lunch there. Joris had told you that he was starting a new job and when you had been there to burn Annika's things, he had talked about it too. 

"Well," Charles says hesitantly. "Joris was my personal photographer. And now that he can no longer work for me and accompany me around the world because of his new job, I thought - well - maybe you'd like to be my new photographer. You - um - you don't have a job at the moment and - well - I thought it would be cool if you and I worked together," he babbles in one breath, blood rushing to his cheeks. "You'd travel with me to the Formula 1 races and take photos there, but of course you'd also spend a lot of time with me in private. Which would be a good fit, as you and I live together anyway and the fans loved the photo you took of me at the lookout point. And the one you just took of me turned out great too."

Your breath is stuck in your lungs. 

Charles wants you to work for him? That you photograph him so he can post the pictures on Instagram? That you fly around the world with him? 

You'd love to throw your arms around his neck with joy, but you just grin at him. "Are you serious?" When he nods, you squeal with excitement. "You're really serious, Charlie? You really want me to work for you?"

"Of course," he admits openly and smiles at you. "You and I are best friends. Why would I want to work with someone else when I have the perfect and best photographer literally sitting right in front of me? I'd be pretty stupid to ask anyone else."

Carefully and with shaky hands, you put the documents back in the envelope. "I - thank you. I don't even know what to say."

"Just say yes." He leans a little to the side so that he can push your full shot glass over to you. "You'll travel around the world with me, get paid incredibly well and spend a lot of time with me. I'll cover the travel expenses, of course. All you have to do is take good photos of me."

You look at him in amazement. "I'm getting paid and you're still covering the travel costs?"

Your flatmate laughs out loud. "Of course! What do you think? Whether I give you more salary so you can pay for your flights and everything yourself, or whether I pay you everything, it's the same in the end."

Heat shoots into your face. "Then at least let me give you money for the rent. Now that I have a job again."

He shakes his head vehemently. "Absolutely not. The money is yours, you can do anything you want with it."

"Except pay the rent," you reply and get his pillow thrown in your face. 

"Exactly. Everything except pay the rent," he assures you. "So, what do you say, mon ami? Do you fancy exploring the world with me?"

You nod with a grin. "Definitely." You raise your shot glass. "Thank you, Charlie. That's the best Christmas present I've ever been given."

A blush creeps into his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Really?"

You nod with a smile. "Definitely. I can't thank you enough for that." 

The thought of being permanently close to Charles scares you as much as it makes you happy. As his best friend, you're looking forward to spending every minute with him, traveling the world and discovering the most beautiful places. And getting paid for it too. 

As the woman who loves him, you're a little worried about what will happen if he meets someone he falls in love with while you're traveling. You don't want to imagine the pain if he gets into a committed relationship with someone and all you can do is stand on the sidelines and watch him be happy. There's no question that he deserves to be happy - but the thought that the person he's falling in love with isn't you makes you feel sick. 

You try to suppress the thought and smile bravely at him. "It's absolutely the best present. Thank you so much, Charlie. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

There is a loving sparkle in his eyes. "I'd do anything for you." Before he picks up his glass as well, he pulls out his cell phone again and taps on it. "Can I post it like this?" he asks you and holds his phone out to you. His screen shows the picture you just took, with a simple caption. 

You shrug your shoulders. "I think so. But do you think it's a good idea to post something when you've had so much alcohol?" you ask him with a grin. 

"Oh nonsense," he grins at you and taps his phone one last time before activating the keypad lock and putting it back in his pocket. "I only have good ideas when I'm drunk." He reaches for his shot glass and holds it out to you so you can clink glasses. "I'm glad you said yes. I can hardly wait." 

"Me neither," you reply with a smile. 

He takes a deep breath before his eyes search yours. He would love to put the glasses aside, pull you onto his lap and kiss you until you can't breathe, until the sun rises, until the world ends. But that's just the alcohol whispering to him, he thinks. 

He knocks his glass against yours. "Here's to us."

-

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others tagged: yourusername charles_leclerc: ma mère approuve

[bbydoll18xx]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

Paige Bueckers x reader

KK tries to set you up on live, and things between you and Paige go south.

Word Count: 1.7k

Themes: angst, maybe some fluff?

This is heavily inspired by my love life, so yes, please feel free to feel bad for me thanks xoxo

~

“And oh, my god, he was so fucking stupid,” you exclaim exasperatedly, your longwinded rant having no ending in sight. “Like you’re literally in college and you can’t even hold a basic conversation? And don’t even get me started on his fucking mustache,” you add, gagging dramatically for good measure.

Hands were flying in the air as you spoke, and the girls of UCONN’s women’s basketball team listened amusedly as you complained about your latest failure of a date. You had promised yourself you’d get back out into the dating world after your two year relationship with your high school sweetheart had ended, but that was nearly three years ago. And now that you had gone through every stage of grief and were now (mostly) mentally stable again, you had begun dating to find ‘the one.’ 

However ‘the one’ seemed to be hiding among the frat boys and useless idiots you had been spending your friday and saturday nights with for the last six months. And you were quickly growing tired of their bullshit. 

“And then,” you dragged out the word theatrically, leaning forward to the group of girls listening, “he told me he wanted to do a line of cocaine off my ass! Like who even says that?”

The girls erupt in a fit of giggles and gasps, disturbed by your most recent date. 

You shake your head in mild embarrassment and place your head in your hands. “I can’t do this anymore,” you sigh, trying to avoid Paige’s stare. 

She was always staring, as if she could tell what you were thinking. And to be honest, it freaked you out because if she actually knew what you were thinking, you’d be in some deep shit.

You had feelings for Paige from the first day you had met her, and the battle was certainly an uphill one at that. A little voice in your head whispered mockingly that the reason you had been going on all these dates was to distract yourself from the harsh reality that Paige was just a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. 

And it really fucking stung. 

KK cuts through the silence, placing a soothing hand on your back. “I know what to do,” she says with a knowing smile. You meet her smirk with a confused look, wondering what the younger girl had in mind. “Let’s go on live and find you a boo!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together.

The other girls erupt in laughter at the idea, nodding their heads in agreement. The only one who is uncharacteristically quiet is Paige, who has a funny look on her face. Her nose scrunches slightly, and because you had spent years memorizing every part of Paige, including her moods and facial expressions, you would almost say she looked pissed.

Glancing back over to KK, you let out another long sigh, throwing your hands in the air defeatedly. “Sure, why the hell not?” 

She whoops excitedly, grabbing her phone and propping it up on the table in front of where the two of you were sitting. She clicks on the live, and it was not long before hundreds of people were flooding in with comments. 

“Hey, y’all!” KK greets the fans with a small wave and a huge grin. You try to hold back a grin of your own, but her excitement was infectious, and you felt grateful that your friends cared about fixing your sham of a love life. 

“We’ve got a special guest tonight,” KK explains, and you wave shyly at the camera. You typically did not love all the attention, and you tended to stay in the background when the other girls would go live. 

“Okay, so boom, we are looking for a date for my girl over here,” KK begins, explaining the situation to the people on the live. “Serious inquiries only!” She adds, wagging a finger towards the camera. “She is precious, and some of y’all are straight up freaks.”

You giggle at her words, trying to read the comments. Many of them we’re trying to gauge your sexuality, and upon reading another ‘is she gay’ comment, you decide to clarify. 

“I’m bisexual,” you murmur shyly. It had been nearly 6 years since you had realized you like girls, yet you still struggled with enunciating the fact. 

“Oh girl, they love you,” KK sings, patting herself on the back for her idea. “How about if y’all have some talent, join the live and woo my girl.”

Paige has since moved from her chair opposite you to sit next to you on the couch. Her leg is pressed up against yours, the warmth of her body radiating onto yours, and you bite your lip. 

“Yeah, yeah Paige is here. This ain’t about blondie today,” KK scolds the fans. “Now I want to see some good talent.” 

You turn your head to look at Paige, and she rolls her eyes at KK. “KK, don’t be mean to them,” she laughs, waving to the live. 

In your head you’re thinking that you honestly can’t even blame the fans. Paige was hot. You wanted to see her too. 

KK lets in the first girl, who upon seeing Paige, shrieks and throws her phone onto the carpet of her bedroom. You laugh, and KK lets out a huff of annoyance, deleting her immediately and moves on to find another person.

“This one seems promising,” she mutters, and you play with a piece of hair nervously. Being in front of the camera felt ridiculous, and you wonder how you got yourself into this situation. You are quickly pulled out of your thoughts by another young girl, desperately trying to serenade you and the other girls with a song. You try your best to avoid cringing, but the performance left you with bad secondhand embarrassment. 

A whole twenty minutes pass before someone promising pops up on the screen. A girl about your age with long dark hair and piercing green eyes is waving flirtatiously at the screen, causing you to sit up a little straighter. Next to you, Paige stiffens, and your eyes flit to her on KK’s phone, jaw clenched in a way that has your stomach rolling. You look down and notice her hand was closed in a fist, the other picking at a piece of lint on the couch. 

You avert your eyes back to the girl who was still smiling widely, and you make casual smalltalk with her, feeling warm from the attention of a pretty girl.

Comments are flooding in, and while you’re glad to see that many of them are about what a cute couple you and the mystery girl would make, you also notice an influx in comments regarding how mad Paige looked.

Before you could look over to check on her, she was flying off the couch and stomping out of the room. You hear her door close loudly, and you meet KK’s eye with a confused look. Paige’s departure has the fans going wild, and you whisper to the younger girl that she should end the live. 

“Okay, y’all, we gotta go. Feel free to DM her, though,” KK tells the dark-haired girl with a devilish grin, and she signs off quickly.

“What the fuck was all that about?” you ask no one in particular, eliciting shrugs from Aubrey, Ice, and Jana. 

“She’s been moody all day,” Aubrey says casually, and you pout, thinking about your best friend who was clearly unhappy about something.

“I’ll go check on her,” you mutter, heading towards the closed door of Paige’s bedroom. Standing in front of it, you take a deep breath before knocking.

“Come in,” you hear her mutter, and you enter the dark room, the only light shining from the tv and reflecting off the glassiness of Paige’s eyes. 

You sit on her bed next to her, placing a comforting hand on her thigh. “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, not wanting to spook her. She rarely opened up about the way she was feeling, and you did not want to rush her into admitting anything if she wasn’t ready.

She shrugs, quickly wiping at her eyes, and your heart nearly crumbles at the sight. You rub soothing circles onto her leg and reach up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. The intimacy of it all is almost overwhelming, and you bite your bottom lip to keep in the feelings bubbling inside of you, threatening to expose everything.

“Just tired,” Paige mumbles, and you peek at her face, studying the beauty of her features. 

Your phone lights up in your hand, alerting you to a DM you had just received from the girl from the live, and you attempt to hold back a wide smile at her boldness. Paige looks down at your screen as you text the girl, Scarlett, back with a giddy expression. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” she says coldly, already moving to get under the covers. 

“Want me to stay?” You ask hopefully, trying to sound casual. Sleepovers between the two of you had become a cherished ritual, and you needed the simple proximity to make you feel whole again. 

“Nah,” she replies flatly, eyes closed and back turned in harsh finality. 

“O-oh, okay. Well, goodnight,” you stutter, temporarily stunned at her poignancy, and you flee her room with your head hung low in rejection.

“Is she okay?” KK asks. You don’t even know how to answer that.

“I have no clue what her deal is,” you mumble. “She’s never not wanted me around, so I think I’m just going to go. I’ve got a girl to get to know,” you add, trying to make yourself feel better.

“We’ll let you know if anything happens,” Ice responds kindly, and you nod gratefully in her direction before you take your leave.

You ignore the anxiety as you walk back home, instead focusing on the flirty messages Scarlett was sending to you. ‘This is what I need,’ you think. Paige was never going to be yours, and now you finally had a real chance at getting over her. 

With your head held high, you vowed that your feelings for Paige Bueckers would disappear. But would they really? Time could only tell. 

~

Part 2

Part 3

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you would be interested in a second part to this!!