#that he isn’t alone and that he might have a chance

[luvashli]

ESCAPISM PART 3

SYNOPSIS -> You left to find yourself—now they’re the ones chasing. Changed and desperate, Heeseung and Ni-ki want you back, but this time, you make the rules.

PAIRING -> non!idol!ni-ki x fem!reader x non!idol!heeseung

GENRE -> oneshot, smut, romance, drama, love triangle, mature

WARNING -> SMUT (p in v), threesome, unprotected sex, spit, dom!reader, sub!ni-ki, sub!heeseung, powerplay, oral (f), oral (m)… MDNI!!

STARTED -> 2/15/2025

STATUS -> completed

WC -> 11.5k

Note: Not only is this the longest chapter/ story i have ever written but it’s also the very first full smut I’ve ever written, let me know what you think… :)

click here for part 1 & part 2

Masterlist

Change isn’t easy.

Heeseung learns this the hard way, sitting in the sterile office of his therapist, hands clenched into fists on his lap. The clock on the wall ticks endlessly, the air heavy with words he doesn’t know how to say.

“How have you been sleeping?” Dr. Jeon asks, voice gentle, as if she already knows the answer.

Heeseung huffs a humorless laugh, leaning back into the leather couch. “Does it count as sleeping if you wake up every hour?”

Dr. Jeon doesn’t react, simply jotting something down in her notebook. Heeseung wonders what she writes about him. Insomniac. Self-sabotaging. Emotionally stunted.

He already knows all that.

He runs a hand down his face, sighing. “It’s been… quiet,” he admits.

She hums. “Quiet, or lonely?”

His throat tightens.

Lonely. So lonely.

Heeseung doesn’t say it, but she sees through him anyway. He hates how easy he is to read here, in this room, under her knowing gaze. It’s nothing like before, when he could brush things off, pretend he wasn’t falling apart.

Before, there was Y/N.

Before, he had her warmth beside him at night. The sound of her voice filling his apartment, the way she’d roll her eyes at his bad jokes but still laugh anyway.

Before, he was so sure she’d never leave.

And now?

Now, he sits alone in his too-big bed, staring at his ceiling, wondering if she’s sleeping better than him. If she ever thinks about him at all. If she knows how hard he’s trying to be better.

Dr. Jeon‘s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Tell me about her.”

Heeseung swallows.

Where does he even begin?

“She was…” He hesitates, staring at the floor. “She was everything.”

The words taste like regret.

Dr. Jeon waits, watching him closely. Heeseung shifts under her gaze, fingers twitching. “I don’t think I realized how much she meant to me until she was gone.”

Dr. Jeon tilts her head. “And now?”

Now, she’s still everything.

Now, he’s trying to fix himself, but it might be too late.

Now, he can’t stop picturing the way she looked at him the last time they spoke—like he was a stranger.

“I just…” His voice cracks. He rubs at his face. “I don’t want to be the man I was before.”

It’s the closest he’ll ever get to saying I want to be the man she deserves.

Dr. Jeon offers a small nod. “That’s a good place to start.”

But even as Heeseung leaves the session, stepping into the cold evening air, he knows the truth.

But what does it matter if Y/N isn’t here to see it?

No amount of therapy will bring Y/N back if she doesn’t want him anymore.

She’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. In the faint memory of her laugh, in the spaces between his fingers where hers used to fit, in the ache in his chest whenever he reaches for his phone and stops himself from dialing her number.

He wants to tell her.

Wants to prove he’s changed.

Wants to beg for another chance.

But Y/N doesn’t owe him anything.

So he suffers in silence.

---

Ni-ki hates the silence.

Before, his nights were loud—filled with music, laughter, the sound of strangers whispering his name. Distractions. Easy. Thoughtless.

Now?

Now, the quiet is suffocating.

He stares at his phone, scrolling past old messages, old habits, old mistakes. His contact list is filled with names of people he barely remembers—numbers he could dial if he wanted company, if he wanted a warm body beside him.

But he doesn’t. Not anymore.

The hookups stopped after Y/N.

No more hookups, no more meaningless distractions. Just empty nights and a realization that nothing feels right anymore.

Not because she asked him to, not because there was ever a promise between them. But because after her, everything else felt pointless.

At first, he told himself he was fine. That Y/N was just another girl, that what they had was just fun. But then he’d see her in his mind—really see her—laughing, teasing, her lips swollen from his kisses, her body pressed against his.

And suddenly, it wasn’t fun anymore.

She wasn’t just another girl.

And now, it’s too late.

She wasn’t like the others.

She was a slow burn, a fire that built up over time, turning his skin feverish and his mind reckless. She made him feel.

And now, she’s gone.

Ni-ki grips his phone tighter, fighting the urge to text her. He won’t. He can’t. She made her choice, and he has to live with it.

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks. Nowhere in particular, just away. From his empty apartment, from the ache in his chest, from the memories he can’t erase.

Maybe if he keeps walking, he’ll stop feeling like a ghost of himself.

Maybe one day, the silence won’t hurt so much.

---

The next few weeks of your life felt like a quiet but powerful rebirth. You woke up every morning with the sunrise, the soft glow of sunlight seeping through the curtains of your newly decorated apartment. It was small, yet cozy, and every item in it was carefully chosen, each piece a reminder of your growth, your independence. Your fingers ran over the warm mug of coffee in your hands, and you smiled softly to yourself as you sipped it, watching the world outside your window.

Your routine had become second nature to you now. You went to the gym every morning, pushing herself harder than ever, feeling the strength of your own body grow with every rep. Your mind, too, was growing. You had learned to embrace the quiet, the solitude, the feeling of your own company without the noise of your past relationships clouding your thoughts. You felt good. And, for the first time in a long time, you felt truly free.

As much as you had learned to embrace your independence, there was still a small part of you that couldn’t quite shake the ache left by Heeseung and Ni-ki. You had moved on, sure, but you couldn’t deny the fact that they were still in the back of your mind, lingering in the corners of your thoughts like an unfinished chapter. But you refused to let that stop you. You were thriving, you she knew that even though they might always be a part of you, they would never define you again.

Today, as you walked through the door of your favorite café, you felt the warmth of familiarity wrap around you like a comfort blanket. You greeted the barista with a smile before sitting at your usual spot by the window. The place was bustling with the hum of quiet chatter, the clinking of coffee cups, and the soft background music. You pulled out your laptop, opening it to get some work done. It was the kind of life you had always wanted – peaceful, centered, and full of small moments that felt meaningful.

You didn’t let yourself linger too long on thoughts of the past. Your focus was on the present. You had a new project in the works, one you were excited about, something that would push your creative boundaries. The glow of productivity filled you, and you quickly immersed yourself in the work. Time flew by without noticing, and soon the afternoon sun was dipping low in the sky.

As the evening approached, you received a text from one of your friends. They had been planning a party at a trendy downtown club for the past few days, and it was finally happening tonight.

“Tonight’s the night, Y/N! Come out and celebrate with us!” the message read. “You need a night out!”

You hesitated for a moment. You hadn’t been out in a while, not like this. But something about the invitation felt right. You deserved a night of fun, of letting loose. The truth was, you was excited. It had been too long since you had felt the heat of a crowded dance floor, the rush of music pulsing through your veins. The last few months had been full of healing and self-reflection, but now, it was time to feel something different—something wild.

So you quickly texted back, “I’m in.”

---

Standing in front of your closet, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you examined the options. The room around was filled with the quiet hum of anticipation. It had been a while since you’d put this much thought into what to wear, but tonight felt different. Tonight wasn’t just another party—it was a step forward, a declaration of how far you’d come.

Your fingers traced over the fabric of a tight black dress, one that accentuated every curve, its simple elegance radiating confidence. Almost feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on you already—on your body, on your energy. You smirked at the reflection. The girl staring back at you wasn’t the same as the one from months ago. This version of yourself was fierce. Self-assured. Powerful. And tonight, she was going to own the room.

The sound of a phone vibrating on the nightstand interrupted your thoughts. After picking it up, another friend’s name lighting up the screen.

“Y/N! You coming to the party tonight or what?” the message read.

You smiled, tapping your fingers across the screen replying, “Yeah, I’m in.”

Still not entirely sure what awaited you at the party. But one thing was for sure—this time, you were in control.

Turning back to finish getting ready, you thought of the two people who would also be at the party, though you had no idea how close they were to each other now. But there was something about tonight, something about being free from the past, that made you curious.

But tonight wasn’t about them, not yet. Tonight was about you reclaiming your own space, enjoying yourself without apologies.

After applying the final touches of makeup, a bold lipstick that matched your mood, and smirking at your reflection one last time, you left your apartment.

Tonight would be yours.

---

The music blasted through the speakers as you stepped into the club, your heels clicking against the marble floor with every confident stride you took. The strobe lights flickered overhead, casting brief, electric shadows that seemed to make the entire room pause for a split second. Your presence was undeniable. Every eye in the club was drawn to you as though the very air shifted when you entered.

You were wearing a tight, black dress that clung to your body in all the right ways. It hugged your waist and flared slightly at the hips, the fabric smooth against your skin, barely concealing the curves of your body. The neckline of the dress dipped low, teasing without revealing too much, just enough to catch the eye. The fabric shimmered under the club lights, drawing attention to your toned figure—your legs, long and smooth, the curve of your hips, the softness of your waist, the way your body seemed to sway with an effortless sensuality as you walked.

Your hair cascaded down in soft waves, the deep, rich color contrasting against your glowing skin. Your eyes, framed with a subtle but striking makeup, scanned the room with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what effect they had. Your lips, painted a bold shade of red, were just daring enough to leave others wondering if they were meant to be kissed.

You weren’t just walking into the club; you were owning it. You moved through the crowd like you were meant to be the center of attention, every man and woman turning their heads as you passed. The whispers and glances followed you, some too obvious to ignore, others hidden behind the shadows of the dance floor.

At the bar, Heeseung and Ni-ki stood side by side, both men caught in the same unexpected moment. They had no idea how to react. It had been months since they’d last seen you, and the sight of you now—this stunning version of yourself, so much more powerful and confident than before—stopped them in their tracks.

Heeseung’s gaze flickered first, his lips parting slightly as his breath caught. He knew he shouldn’t be staring—shouldn’t be thinking the thoughts that were now running wild in his mind. But he couldn’t help it. The woman in front of him wasn’t the girl who had once been caught up in the whirlwind of their toxic relationship. This version of you was something else entirely. You weren’t just beautiful—you were untouchable, exuding a kind of raw, magnetic energy that made his chest tighten. His fingers itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms, but he held himself back. Out of respect. He knew better than to make a move now.

Ni-ki, standing just a few feet away, was in a similar state of disbelief. His thoughts ran wild as he watched you walk across the club, your body moving in a way that left his mouth dry. Damn. The memory of your one-night-stand was still fresh in his mind, but seeing you now, so confident, so poised, made his chest tighten in a different way. You were everything. His eyes followed every inch of you as you made your way to the dance floor, the sway of your hips sending jolts of desire through his body. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way—especially with Heeseung so close—but he couldn’t stop himself.

The men exchanged a glance, the unspoken tension between them thick enough to cut through the air. Neither of them said anything, but both knew—tonight wasn’t going to be easy.

You, for your part, weren’t oblivious to the heat of their gazes. You felt the weight of their attention, but it only added to your sense of power. You were the one in control now, and it felt damn good.

You turned your head slightly, your eyes locking with Heeseung’s for just a moment, then flicking to Ni-ki. The subtle shift in your gaze made both men stiffen, a pang of recognition hitting them hard in their chests. Neither one moved closer, though; they both understood the unspoken rule of the night—they would respect your space. But that didn’t stop the fire in their veins, the growing hunger that neither could quench.

You continued your stride, your hips swaying hypnotically, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you made your way deeper into the club. The scene was set—you were here, in control, and they were just two players in the game.

---

You were lost in the music, your body swaying to the beat, when a man approached you. His presence was immediate, confident, and his smile was charming. His eyes scanned you from head to toe with a look that could only be described as appreciative, as if he had found exactly what he was looking for.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “I’ve been watching you all night, and I have to say, you’ve got some serious energy. How about we dance?”

You paused for a moment, taking in his appearance—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a well-tailored shirt that hugged his frame. He looked good, no doubt. For a brief second, you considered the offer, but the beat of the music pulled you back into the moment. Why not? you thought. You could have some fun.

Without hesitation, you flashed him a smile. “Sure,” you said, your tone playful.

He grinned, stepping closer, guiding you onto the dance floor as the music pulsed through the club. The man’s hands settled on your waist, and you could feel the heat from his body as you moved together. His rhythm was decent, but nothing you hadn’t seen before. You danced with confidence, your body moving freely, but there was a part of you that remained detached.

You glanced back at Heeseung and Ni-ki, catching both of their gazes once more. The jealousy in their eyes was unmistakable, but it was different now. There was no possessiveness, no anger—only a quiet understanding, a reluctance to claim what wasn’t theirs to hold. They weren’t rushing over to make their move. They weren’t jumping to dictate what you could or couldn’t do.

That was new. The realization hit you like a slow wave. Both of them had changed. Not just in the way they looked at you, but in the way they seemed to respect your space. It was as if, for the first time, they understood that you weren’t someone to be fought over, but someone to be valued. Someone to be given the freedom to make your own decisions. And even though you felt their presence, you could breathe easier knowing they weren’t going to push you.

You swallowed, a small, appreciative smile crossing your lips. You didn’t need anyone’s validation. You were the one in control now, but the shift in the men—the way they had grown—didn’t go unnoticed. It made you think. Maybe there was hope for them, but only if you were ready to make the call. Only if they kept proving that they weren’t the same boys who had hurt you before.

As the minutes passed, the attraction you had briefly felt started to fade. His touch, while not unwelcome, didn’t stir anything deep within you. The music was still loud, and you could feel the energy around you, but all you could focus on was how much you felt the weight of Heeseung and Ni-ki’s gazes from across the room.

You glanced over your shoulder, locking eyes with Ni-ki first. His expression was unreadable, his gaze steady, but something in his eyes flickered—a brief hint of something you couldn’t quite place. Then your eyes found Heeseung. He stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched, watching you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. His eyes weren’t angry, though. They were… questioning.

The weight of their attention pulled at you, but the man’s hand on your waist brought you back to reality. You looked at him, realizing you weren’t interested—not in the way he wanted.

The dance was nice, but it was hollow. Your heart wasn’t in it.

After a few more moments of forced movement, you finally pulled back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Hey, I’m going to take a break,” you said, your voice casual, though your insides churned. “Thanks for the dance, though.”

The man raised an eyebrow, surprised, but offered a smooth nod. “Of course,” he said with a grin. “Enjoy yourself.”

You gave him a polite nod and walked away, stepping off the dance floor with a sense of relief. You didn’t look back at him, but the moment you turned your gaze back to where Heeseung and Ni-ki were standing, you caught them watching you. Neither of them moved, but their eyes met yours again, and the tension between them was palpable.

You paused for a moment, feeling the weight of their unspoken words hanging in the air. But this time, you didn’t feel trapped. You didn’t feel like you owed anyone anything, not the man, not Heeseung, and certainly not Ni-ki.

You walked toward the bar, shaking off the remnants of the dance. This was your night. You didn’t need to please anyone, not even yourself. Tonight, you were free to be exactly who you wanted to be.

---

You sat at the bar, your fingers grazing the rim of your glass as you let the cool liquid settle in front of you. The faint hum of music echoed throughout the club, but it was the low murmur of conversation around you that pulled your focus inwards. You were more aware than ever of the gaze that lingered on you from across the room. Heeseung and Ni-ki. The tension between them, the heat in their eyes, was unmistakable.

You could feel their stares on you, even as you kept your gaze fixed downward, swirling the drink in your hand. You weren’t foolish enough to ignore the pull you felt towards them—towards both of them. The problem now was how much you’d changed. How much you had grown. You’d spent months finding yourself, growing into the confident person you now were. The person who didn’t need to be defined by anyone else’s affection, not even by two men you once thought could hold you together.

But still, the pull of desire was there, a fire simmering under your skin as you remembered the passion, the tension, the way your body responded to their touch. A quick glance up from the drink confirmed what you already knew. They were still watching. It was like they couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop themselves from admiring the person you had become.

Your heart twisted at the thought. No more manipulation. No more games. This wasn’t the same dynamic anymore. They had changed—both of them. And so had you. But even though you knew what was best for you, it didn’t stop the temptation to feel wanted, to see them both fall apart for you. They were desperate. They were *whiny*—needing you, craving you in a way that sent warmth curling through your stomach.

And damn, did you love the control it gave you.

The music thudded louder in your ears as you took another slow sip of your drink. The temptation to look over, to meet their gazes, to see if they were still waiting for a signal from you, was almost unbearable. But you held back. You weren’t going to make this easy. Not for them.

Your fingers curled around the glass, tightening, before you finally gave in—just a little. You took a deep breath and raised your eyes.

They were still watching, their eyes locked onto you as if their very existence depended on it. Heeseung, a bit more reserved, but his gaze was hungry, desperate. Ni-ki, the younger one, a little more brazen, his expression full of longing, his hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out but was holding himself back. And as your eyes met theirs, you could almost feel the weight of their desire pressing against you, like a magnetic pull that refused to be ignored.

You stared at them for a beat longer than necessary. Your lips curved up into a small, knowing smile, just enough to tease.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you slowly raised your hand and pointed directly at them.

Both men froze. Their eyes widened. They exchanged a brief, almost imperceptible look between each other, but neither of them moved—not until they saw the slight smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

That was it. That was all it took. Your simple gesture, your subtle command, had shattered whatever control they thought they had left.

And in that instant, both men broke.

Heeseung stood, his body tense, his breath shallow. He took a step toward you, then another, and another, the space between you closing rapidly. Ni-ki was right behind him, just as desperate, just as hungry.

They rushed toward you with a desperation that both thrilled and overwhelmed you. You watched them, your heart pounding as you felt the heat rise in your chest. You didn’t have to say anything. They had already learned what it meant to follow your lead.

The goosebumps along your skin prickled as they reached you, standing on either side, so close now you could feel the tension in the air between them. It was suffocating in the best way. Your power, your control over the situation, was undeniable.

For a moment, no one moved. The space between you was charged, humming with need, with desperation. They were waiting for you, as if they couldn’t take another breath without you giving them permission.

And that was when it hit you—how far they had both fallen, how much they had changed for you. The men you once thought had nothing to offer you were now completely at your mercy, and it felt good. So good.

This was what you had earned. This was your moment. You weren’t going to let them control you anymore.

Not now.

Not ever.

But you could let them want you. You could make them beg. And, oh, how you loved the idea of that.

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze shifting between them as a slow, deliberate smile spread across your lips. “You both know why you’re here,” you murmured, your voice low, almost taunting.

Heeseung’s chest rose and fell with every breath, his expression tense as if he were holding himself back from doing something he didn’t quite know he should. Ni-ki’s lips parted, and his eyes glittered with something darker, a rawness you hadn’t seen in him before.

Neither man spoke, but their eyes told you everything. They were both waiting. Waiting for you to take control. Waiting for you to make the first move.

And so, you did.

The bass reverberates through the floor as you rise from your seat without a word. You don’t need to say anything— you know they’re watching, know their bodies are already wound tight with anticipation. Your hips sway naturally, deliberately, as you step onto the dancefloor. The air is thick, pulsing with heat and music, but the real tension lies in the space between you and the two men who, despite their best efforts, can’t resist your pull.

Ni-ki and Heeseung share a glance, a fleeting second where restraint crumbles between them. Then, like moths to a flame, they follow.

The crowd parts subtly as you move, eyes catching onto the effortless way your body moves with the music.

The moment you step onto the dancefloor, you can feel the weight of their eyes on you. The bass pulses beneath your feet, the air thick with the scent of sweat, liquor, and electricity. Around you, bodies move in chaotic waves, but you command a different kind of rhythm—one that is slow, deliberate, intoxicating.

You don’t look back to see if they followed. You don’t need to. You know they have.

And then, just as you expected, they’re there.

When you finally slow, positioning yourself in the center of the dance floor, you feel them step into place behind you—one on each side, caging you in without a single touch.

Heeseung’s warmth spreads over your back first, his hands grazing your waist, hesitant at first, but that hesitation crumbles the second you roll your hips back against him. His grip tightens instantly, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. He exhales sharply against your ear, the heat of it making you shiver.

Ni-ki doesn’t hesitate at all. He steps in front of you, so close their chests nearly touch, his gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. “You have no idea what you’re doing to us,” he murmurs, low and breathless.

You smirk, tilting your head slightly. “Oh, I think I do.”

And then you move.

Your body melts into Heeseung’s as you grind against him, slow and teasing. You feel the sharp inhale he takes, the way his grip turns bruising as he tries to control himself. But you don’t let up, rolling your hips deeper, pressing harder.

“Fuck,” Heeseung groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Ni-ki watches, his jaw clenched, eyes dark as he takes in the sight of your body moving against Heeseung’s. But he doesn’t stay idle for long. His hands slide over your arms before trailing lower, ghosting over your waist before settling firmly on your hips, sandwiching you between them.

“You think you can just do whatever you want, don’t you?” Ni-ki murmurs, voice thick with heat. His lips are dangerously close to yours now.

You tilt your head, lips parting slightly. “I know I can.”

Ni-ki chuckles, low and dark, before leaning in—his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. The featherlight touch sends a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as he presses a lingering kiss there.

Heeseung’s hands shift, one splaying over your stomach, pressing you further against him. His lips graze your ear again, his voice raspier now. “You love this, don’t you? Having both of us like this?“

You hum, tilting your head to the side to give Ni-ki better access to your neck. “Maybe.”

Ni-ki nips at your skin in response, making you gasp. Heeseung, not to be outdone, tightens his hold and grinds against you, letting you feel just how much you’re affecting him.

The music swells around you, drowning out everything else. They switch positions fluidly—Ni-ki sliding behind you now, his hands wandering, his breath hot against the back of your neck. Heeseung in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours, a challenge in them.

Ni-ki’s lips twitch into a smirk, his hands finding your hips as you both fall back into rhythm, moving together like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

You let your head tilt back against Ni-ki's shoulder, reveling in the feeling of their hands, their heat, their absolute desperation for you.

You’re completely in control. And they both know it.

You let them move with you, the three of you falling into a sensual, intoxicating rhythm. Your bodies press, shift, mold together, moving as one. Heat coils at the base of your spine as hands wander—touching, teasing, claiming.

People are watching. You can feel their gazes, some intrigued, others scandalized, but you don’t care. Let them look. Let them see what it means to be wanted.

Heeseung’s fingers trail up your side, featherlight yet possessive. Ni-ki’s hands tighten, anchoring you between them.

And you?

You smile, loving the newfound feeling of power.

The heat between you and them is unbearable now. Every grind, every whispered breath against flushed skin, every lingering touch has pushed them to the very edge of restraint. Both bulges in their pants undeniable by now, growing with each passing second. The music, the flashing lights, the crowd around you—it all fades into nothing.

You know they’re waiting for you. You can feel it in the way Heeseung’s grip flexes on your waist, in the way Ni-ki’s fingers hesitate against your skin as if fighting every instinct to just take you right here.

But they don’t.

Because they’ve changed.

Because they won’t let this happen unless they know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it’s what you want.

Ni-ki leans in first, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Y/N,” he murmurs, voice strained, “tell us now if you want to stop.“

Heeseung, on the other side of you, breathes just as heavily. “We won’t take another step if you don’t want this.”

You pull back slightly, meeting both of their eyes. Their restraint is obvious—the tight clench of Heeseung’s jaw, the way Ni-ki’s fingers flex like he’s trying to stop himself from pulling you closer.

They’re waiting on you.

You smirk, tilting your head. “Then keep up,” you purr, before slipping out of their hold and striding toward the exit.

The second you step outside, you don’t have to turn to know they’re following.

---

The door to Heeseung’s apartment barely clicks open before Ni-ki pushes forward, his hand firm on your waist as he guides you inside, your bodies colliding in a heated frenzy. His lips crash onto yours without hesitation, kissing you like he’s been starving for you all night. You don’t even have time to catch your breath before you’re melting into him, fingers threading through his hair as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to claim you fully.

Heeseung steps inside after you, shutting the door with a quiet click. He should feel jealous—maybe even furious—but instead, he feels something entirely different. Something dark and electric curling in his stomach as he watches Ni-ki devour you, as he watches you let him.

You gasp against Ni-ki’s mouth when his hands slide down your sides, gripping the curve of your hips to pull you impossibly closer. Heeseung swallows, his throat dry as he leans against the door, his fingers twitching at his sides. He shouldn’t like this. But he does. God, he does.

Your dress rides up slightly as Ni-ki presses you against the cool wall, his lips trailing from your mouth down to the line of your jaw. You tilt your head back, eyes fluttering closed, giving in to the feeling of Ni-ki’s lips ghosting down your throat. A quiet, breathy sigh leaves your lips, and Heeseung clenches his jaw.

You suddenly peek at him through lidded eyes, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. “Enjoying the view?” you tease, your voice sultry and dripping with amusement.

Heeseung exhales sharply, pushing off the door. He steps forward, slow, deliberate, and when he meets Ni-ki’s gaze over your shoulder, there’s no rivalry—only understanding. Only shared desire.

And Heeseung finally realizes: He doesn’t mind sharing, not when it’s you.

Just as Ni-ki’s lips start trailing lower, you place a firm hand on his chest and push him back. He stumbles slightly, brows knitting together in confusion as he looks at you. Heeseung watches too, standing still, his breath caught in his throat as you straighten yourself up.

“Alright,” you say, smoothing down your dress with slow, deliberate movements, your confidence dripping into every word. “Before we take another step, let’s get one thing clear—I’m in charge tonight.“

Ni-ki’s lips part slightly, still catching his breath from the way he’d had you against the wall just moments ago. Heeseung, on the other hand, simply nods, his gaze locked onto yours like he’s ready to follow every single command you give.

You step forward, your heels clicking softly against the floor as you let your eyes scan over both of them, making sure they understand. You tilt your head. “No touching unless I say so.”

Ni-ki exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as if trying to compose himself, while Heeseung just bites his lower lip, nodding again, more eagerly this time.

“And no getting jealous.” Your eyes flicker between them, watching as they both exchange a look before quickly nodding again.

Your lips curve into a small, satisfied smile. “Good boys.”

Heeseung audibly exhales, his entire body going tense. Ni-ki, usually the cocky one, swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fights the urge to reach for you again.

But you aren’t done.

You turn to Heeseung now, stepping into his space, and he immediately straightens up, eyes wide and expectant. You place a hand on his chest, feeling the way his heartbeat pounds against your palm, and you lean in, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips.

It’s barely a second—just a taste, just a tease—but when you pull back, Heeseung makes the smallest sound.

A whimper.

You feel it in your stomach, the power you have over them both. Heeseung’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his breath shaky, his hands twitching at his sides as if he’s physically restraining himself from reaching for you.

“More,” he murmurs, almost pleading.

You just smirk. “Only if you behave.”

And Heeseung, desperate, nods without hesitation.

You step back slightly, arms crossing over your chest as you eye the two men in front of you. Heeseung’s lips are parted, his breath uneven, while Ni-ki rolls his shoulders back, like he’s trying to keep himself together. But you can see the way they’re both holding back—the tension in their muscles, the way their fingers twitch at their sides, desperate to reach for you.

You let the silence stretch between them, reveling in the power shift, before finally tilting your head. “If you want to touch me…” You trail off, tapping a manicured nail against your chin. “Then you should earn it.”

Ni-ki lifts a brow. “Earn it?”

You smirk. “Get on your knees.”

For a second, neither of them moves. Not out of defiance—but because they’re both stunned.

“You’re joking,” Heeseung finally says, voice a little breathless.

You raise a brow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

There’s a pause. A heavy, suffocating moment of tension.

And then—Ni-ki moves first.

He drops to his knees without hesitation, his dark eyes locked onto yours. A muscle in his jaw twitches, his usual confidence faltering under the intensity of your gaze. But he doesn’t care. He wants this—wants you.

Heeseung follows a beat later, exhaling sharply through his nose as he lowers himself. He swallows, looking up at you with wide, needy eyes, his fingers curling into fists against his thighs.

You let out a small hum of approval, stepping closer so that they’re kneeling right in front of you, looking up like you’re something to be worshipped.

Ni-ki exhales, licking his lips. “Let me touch you.” His voice is hoarse, lower than usual.

You tilt your head. “That’s not begging, Ni-ki.”

He groans, his hands twitching at his sides. “Please, Y/N,” he murmurs, the rasp in his voice making your stomach tighten. “I need to feel you.”

Heeseung shifts slightly, his lips parting. “Me too,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “Please.”

You press your lips together, pretending to consider it. You can feel the heat radiating off them, the way they’re barely keeping it together. You reach out, brushing your fingers through Heeseung’s dark hair, making him shudder at the touch.

“You can do better than that,” you muse.

Heeseung’s breath stutters, and then he lets out a soft, desperate whine. “Y/N,” he whispers, shifting on his knees. “Please. Please let me touch you. I’ll be good—I swear.“

Ni-ki exhales sharply, his hands gripping his own thighs like he’s holding himself back from just yanking you forward. “Please, princess,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “I’ll do anything.”

You grin now, reveling in the way they’re completely at your mercy. “Anything?”

They both nod—Ni-ki’s breath ragged, Heeseung’s lips trembling.

You let the moment stretch, making them squirm. Then, finally—you exhale and step back.

“Good boys.”

And just like that, you see them both nearly break.

You watch them—still on their knees, eyes blown wide, hands twitching like they’re holding back everything inside them just for you.

You hum, dragging your fingers along Ni-ki’s jaw, then trailing them over Heeseung’s cheek. They both lean into your touch instantly, like it’s the only thing keeping them sane.

“Since you were both so good for me,” you muse, “I’ll let you touch me now.”

Their sharp inhales fill the space between them, but before they can get ahead of themselves, you lift a single finger.

“But only how I say.”

They nod instantly.

You tilt your head. “Carry me to the bed.”

For a moment, they hesitate—not because they don’t want to, but because they both move at the same time, hands bumping into each other as they reach for you. There’s a flicker of something between them—silent, understanding, but also competitive.

Then Ni-ki moves first, wrapping an arm under your legs while Heeseung supports your back, and together, they lift you effortlessly. You let your head fall back slightly, allowing yourself to revel in the way their strong arms hold you—secure, reverent, desperate.

They carry you to the bed as if you’re something precious, something delicate. But you are anything but delicate.

As soon as you’re placed on the soft sheets, you straighten, looking between them. They’re standing now, both looming over you, waiting—hanging onto your every move.

You smirk, running a slow hand up your thigh, watching the way their gazes follow it like magnets.

“Take off my dress,” you order. “And my shoes. But nothing else.”

A sharp breath from Heeseung. Ni-ki’s jaw clenches.

But they obey.

Ni-ki moves first, fingers reaching for the straps of your dress, sliding them down your shoulders with agonizing slowness. His fingertips ghost over your skin, and you don’t miss the way his breath shudders.

Heeseung’s hands trail down your legs, working on unstrapping your heels, knuckles brushing against your skin as he slides them off, one by one. His fingers are warm, careful—almost worshipping.

The dress pools at your waist now, and Ni-ki glances up at you for permission before sliding it further down. You give a small nod, and he exhales, dragging the fabric over your hips, down your thighs, until it’s nothing but a heap on the floor.

Now, you sit before them—legs crossed, clad only in lace and confidence.

You see it—the way they both freeze, eyes dark and heavy, drinking you in like you’re their last salvation.

You shift slightly, watching their gazes flicker over you.

But before they can move—before they can even think about reaching for you—you raise a finger again.

“That’s enough,” you murmur. “Now… just look.”

A sharp pause.

Ni-ki’s throat bobs. Heeseung’s hands tighten into fists.

And then, they do exactly as they’re told.

They look.

You lean back against the headboard, your legs crossed as you study the two men standing before you. Their chests rise and fall unevenly, their hands twitching at their sides, desperate to reach for you. But you aren’t going to make this easy for them. No, they have to earn it.

“Since you’re both so eager,” you muse, tilting your head, “why don’t you start by showing me how much you really want it?”

Heeseung and Ni-ki exchange a glance, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. The room is thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, their skin more sensitive, their breathing more labored.

Your lips curl. “Kiss each other.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Heeseung’s breath hitched, his eyes darting between Ni-ki and you, searching for some kind of confirmation that you’re serious. Ni-ki, on the other hand, lets out a sharp exhale, licking his lips as he studies Heeseung’s reaction. There’s no protest, no outright rejection—just the heavy weight of hesitation settling over them both.

“Or,” you shrug, trailing a slow, teasing finger down the bare skin of your thigh, “you don’t have to. But then, neither of you get to touch me.”

A quiet, unspoken understanding passes between them. It’s a test—a challenge they aren’t willing to fail.

Ni-ki swallows hard, shifting on his feet. Heeseung clenches his jaw.

Then, finally, Heeseung exhales. “Okay.”

Ni-ki nods, as if reassuring himself.

Slowly, Ni-ki reaches out, his fingers curling into the fabric of Heeseung’s shirt. There’s a moment of pause, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. The anticipation alone sends a ripple of something dangerous and thrilling through your veins.

Then, in one swift motion, Ni-ki pulls Heeseung forward.

Their lips meet in a clash of uncertainty and heat. The first contact is tentative, almost questioning, but the moment their mouths move against each other, something shifts. Heeseung sucks in a sharp breath at the unexpected sensation, and Ni-ki, testing the waters, tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss just enough to pull them further into the moment.

You smirked, heat pooling in your stomach as you watched them melt into each other.

The hesitation is still there, lingering in the way their fingers twitch against fabric, in the sharp inhales between parted lips. But with every passing second, that hesitation begins to unravel—replaced by something neither of them can deny.

They liked it.

The realization hits at the same time.

A quiet, shaky exhale leaves Heeseung’s mouth as Ni-ki’s hand slides up his arm, gripping lightly. Heeseung responds in kind, fingers curling into the hem of Ni-ki’s shirt, pulling him in just a little closer. Their movements are equal, neither leading nor following, just moving together, testing, exploring, discovering.

Your lips parted slightly, amusement flickering in your gaze. “Good boys.”

That simple praise sends a visible shudder through both of them.

Heeseung lets out the softest whimper against Ni-ki’s lips, and the sound sends a jolt of something electric down Ni-ki’s spine. Emboldened, he mirrored the same energy, pressing in just enough to elicit a quiet gasp from Heeseung this time. They both felt it—the shift, the hunger, the desire crackling between them like a slow-burning fire.

They broke apart only when the need for air became unbearable.

Both of them are breathless, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from the exchange.

You slowly uncrossed your legs, dragging your fingers down your collarbone in deliberate, tantalizing strokes. “Now,” you purred, watching them closely, “let’s see if you can follow my next order just as well.”

And judging by the way their bodies were already responding to you, you had no doubt they would.

You let the silence stretch, your gaze trailing lazily over the two breathless men in front of you. Their lips were swollen, their bodies tense, their eyes locked onto yours like you were the only thing that existed.

A slow smirk curled at the corner of your mouth. “Touch each other.”

Heeseung’s breath caught. Ni-ki’s fingers twitched.

Your nails grazed your thigh, just enough to draw their attention. “Make it feel good.”

A muscle in Heeseung’s jaw clenched, his mind visibly working through the command. Ni-ki, on the other hand, exhaled sharply, shifting where he stood, but he didn’t step back. Neither of them did.

Because they wanted this. Maybe more than they were ready to admit.

It was Ni-ki who moved first, his hand lifting hesitantly before pressing against Heeseung’s waist. The touch was light—almost experimental—but it sent a ripple of something electric through both of them. Heeseung inhaled shakily, his body stiff for only a second before his own hands came up, brushing tentatively against Ni-ki’s arms.

You tilted your head, watching intently. “Come on,” you murmured, your voice dripping with expectation. “You can do better than that.”

Ni-ki swallowed hard, his fingers tightening. Heeseung mirrored the motion, his palms sliding up the curve of Ni-ki’s shoulders. Their breathing grew heavier, their touches lingering, testing.

Then, as if something finally clicked, Ni-ki’s hands moved. They trailed over Heeseung’s chest, fingertips dragging over fabric, pressing just enough to make him shudder. Heeseung exhaled sharply, and in response, he let his own hands wander—gliding down Ni-ki’s sides, tracing the shape of his ribs.

A quiet, unspoken challenge passed between them.

Ni-ki’s fingers dipped lower, teasing at Heeseung’s waistline, and Heeseung retaliated by ghosting his touch up the bare skin just beneath Ni-ki’s shirt. A quiet hitch of breath escaped him at the contact.

You bit your lip, your gaze dark with satisfaction. “That’s more like it.”

Something changed in the air.

What started as obedience had shifted into something else entirely.

Ni-ki and Heeseung weren’t just following orders anymore. They were reacting—exploring, pushing boundaries neither of them had considered before. And judging by the way their hands refused to let go, they weren’t stopping anytime soon.

You let the moment stretch, drinking in the sight before you—two men tangled in something neither of them fully understood yet, but neither of them wanted to stop. Their breathing was heavy, their hands still lingering on each other as if unsure whether to pull away or press closer.

A slow, satisfied smile curled across your lips. “Take off your shirts.”

The command settled over them like a slow-burning fuse.

Heeseung blinked, his fingers twitching where they still rested against Ni-ki’s waist. Ni-ki, usually so composed, let out a slow breath, his throat bobbing.

Your gaze darkened. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

That was all it took.

Neither of them spoke. They only exchanged a glance—brief but charged—before moving at the same time.

Fingers grasped fabric, muscles flexing as they pulled their shirts over their heads in one smooth motion. The air between them grew heavier, thick with something unspoken as their shirts hit the floor.

You leaned back against the headboard, letting your gaze trail lazily over them. Bare skin, toned and flushed, chests rising and falling in tandem. You could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their fingers twitched slightly, as if waiting for your next move.

You dragged a slow finger along your collarbone, watching how their eyes followed the movement. Then you tilted your head, your voice soft but laced with authority.

“Now touch me.”

There was no hesitation this time.

Two pairs of hands reached for you at once.

You felt the heat radiating from their bare skin as their hands hovered just above you, waiting for the moment they were allowed to touch. But you weren’t going to give them that satisfaction so easily.

You exhaled slowly, letting the silence stretch, savoring the way their chests rose and fell with restrained anticipation. Then, you tilted your chin up and spoke, your voice soft yet commanding.

“Ask for it.”

Heeseung’s fingers twitched, his breath hitching slightly. Ni-ki licked his lips, his jaw tightening.

You smirked. “If you want to touch me, you need to say it.”

There was a flicker of hesitation between them—pride warring with desire. But you could already see it in their eyes. They wanted this too much to resist.

Heeseung was the first to break, his voice low and rough. “I want to touch you.”

Ni-ki followed, his words slightly more controlled, but no less desperate. “Let me touch you.”

You ran a teasing hand down your own arm, watching the way their gazes tracked the movement hungrily. Then, you let out a satisfied hum.

“Good boys.”

Their bodies tensed at the praise, but before they could react, you leaned forward slightly, your next command slipping from your lips like a promise.

“Use your mouths.”

The room was thick with anticipation, the air charged with something electric. Your command lingered, a promise wrapped in temptation.

Heeseung and Ni-ki hesitated for only a second before moving at the same time, drawn in by the invisible pull between them.

Heeseung was the first to lean in, his breath warm as it ghosted over your skin. He started slow, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss against the curve of your shoulder. Ni-ki followed, mirroring him on the other side, his lips brushing just beneath your jaw.

You exhaled, your fingers curling against the sheets, your satisfaction evident in the way you tilted your head back slightly, exposing more of your neck.

Encouraged, they grew bolder.

Ni-ki’s lips trailed lower, his mouth pressing against your collarbone, lingering there for a moment as if testing how much he was allowed. Heeseung mirrored his movements, his touch just as reverent, yet equally unrestrained. There was no competition now, no fight for dominance—only them moving in perfect sync, learning, exploring, savoring.

You could feel it, the shift between them. What had started as obedience was turning into something more. The careful touches, the way their lips mapped over your skin—it wasn’t just for you anymore.

They liked this.

You could feel it in the way their breaths grew heavier, in the way their hands hovered near your waist, unsure if they were allowed to touch more. You could hear it in the barely-there sounds they let slip, low and unguarded.

You smirked, your fingers lifting to tangle lightly in Heeseung’s hair, then in Ni-ki’s, pulling just enough to make them pause. Their eyes met yours, dazed, wanting.

“You’re both doing so well,” you murmured, your voice smooth, dripping with satisfaction.

The praise sent a visible shudder through them both.

Your breath hitched as Heeseung’s gaze locked with yours, his eyes dark with anticipation. The tension between them was thick, palpable, and you could feel it swirling around you, pulling you in. Without a word, you moved closer, your fingers brushing over the side of his face, your hand gently cupping his jaw.

Heeseung's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he leaned into your touch, his lips parted slightly. Your thumb traced the line of his lips, feeling the heat radiating from him. You could see the barely-contained desire in his expression, the way his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Your heart raced, but you weren’t in a hurry—you wanted to savor this.

Slowly, you guided his face closer to yours, your fingers gripping his jaw just firmly enough to pull him into you. You felt him hesitate, just for a moment, before he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours with a gentle yet urgent pressure.

The kiss was slow at first, tender, as if you were both testing the waters. You let out a soft sigh against his lips, and Heeseung deepened it just slightly, his hand coming up to rest on your waist. It was an exploration, a careful exchange of desire and need.

But you weren’t done yet. As the kiss deepened, you turned your attention to Ni-ki, who had been watching you intently, his body tense with a mix of impatience and desire. You tilted your head, your eyes locking with his, and with a subtle, commanding gesture, you placed your hand on the back of his head, gently guiding his face downwards.

Ni-ki didn’t pull away, but instead leaned into your touch, his breath catching as he felt the pressure of your fingers on his skin. Slowly, he allowed himself to be guided, his mouth moving lower, his lips brushing against your thighs as you kept your grip steady.

Your heart raced at the sensation of both of them so close, so present. Heeseung’s lips were soft against yours, deepening the kiss with a mix of hunger and restraint, while Ni-ki’s breath ghosted over your skin, the warmth of him radiating through you as he followed your lead.

The kiss between you and Heeseung grew more heated, the intensity rising with every passing second. You could feel the pulse of desire between you, a raw, electric connection. At the same time, Ni-ki’s touch against your still clothed cunt sent a shiver down your spine, the combination of the two driving your senses wild.

As the kiss broke, you pulled back just enough to look into Heeseung’s eyes, your fingers still resting on his face. He was breathing heavily, his lips slightly swollen, and one could see the mix of longing and frustration in his gaze. You smiled, your voice soft but commanding, "You both wanted this... Now show me just how much."

And just like the Ni-ki rushes to push your panties down your thighs, the lack of fabric against your sensitive cunt rips a guttural moan from your throat.

They both came to a halt after hearing the noise.

It was almost too much. The way your voice, quiet but dripping with heat, seemed to vibrate through the space, making their hearts race and their breaths quicken. Your fingers gripped the fabric of the sheets beneath you, the sound of it brushing against the bed mingling with your breathless sighs, sending a jolt of raw need through both of them.

Ni-ki’s hand tightened into a fist at his side, his knuckles white. His lips parted, as if he were struggling to hold back, his entire body wound tight with the need to move. Heeseung’s gaze was just as intense, his lips pressed in a thin line, eyes dark with the strain of keeping control.

You met Ni-ki's gaze, voice low and commanding, "Go ahead, I want to see what you can do."

As soon as the words slip past your lips, Ni-ki pushes his head in between your legs and this time you physically can't stop yourself from bucking your hips into his touch.

"Heeseung continue", you hiss through gritted teeth only to choke on your words as soon as Ni-ki licks a long stripe over the entirety of your cunt, savoring every drop landing on his tongue like it's the sweetest meal he's ever tasted.

Heeseung’s gaze flickered between Ni-ki and you, his breath shallow as he watched Ni-ki’s every movement. Heeseung’s body ached to be closer, to stake his claim in the space between them. The sight of Ni-ki inching closer to you only ignited something deeper within him, something primal.

But then he remembered the rules for tonight.

Without a word, Heeseung cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your jaw. Your eyes met his for a split second, and that was all he needed. He closed the distance between you, kissing you with a hunger he could no longer control.

Ni-ki doesn’t even notices Heeseungs eagerness, to occupied with losing himself in your taste. "F-Fuck", he grunts and digs his fingers deeper into the skin of your ass cheeks, hating himself for losing his composure but to his luck your way too fucked out already to take notice of his little outburst.

Heeseungs takes this as a signal to make his move by making your tits his new territory. He looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pleading to finally be allowed to touch you, claim you, taste you more. If only you’d allow him to take of that lacy bra he wanted to rip off all night.

And the moment your eyes lock and you nod at him, he rips it of and attaches his mouth to your hard and perky nipples.

You long lost control of yourself as moan after moan follows each breathless gasp for air and high pitched whimper of both their names.

Yet again, Ni-ki doesn't give you enough time to catch a breath of air by sucking your clit into his mouth, applying just enough pressure on your sensitive clit with his tongue to have you gasping for air.

Heeseung is relentless, careless and sloppy. Loud slurping noises match the actions of his mouth as he licks every spot he can reach, not a single word leaving his lips as he's too busy making sure to leave no spot untouched.

It doesn't take long for you to tip toe around the edge as Ni-ki switches between thrusting his tongue into your tight hole and drawing circles into your needy bundle of nerves.

"C-Close", you suddenly whisper and it's then that Ni-ki realises that he's had his eyes closed the whole time, like some pussy drunk freak.

“Fuck, yes. Make me cum“ you moans. And Ni-ki doesn’t need to be told twice. The second he goes back to pushing his tongue into your tight hole, you feels a wave of relief hit your nerves and before you can even process what's happening, Ni-ki applies just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive clit and easily pushes you over the edge with just those few movements, while Heeseung is still touching and kissing you all over. He even started leaving hickeys all over your neck and collarbones.

You doesn’t know how much time passes until you regains your composure but it's the sound of Heeseung unbuckling his belt which pulls you back into reality.

You pulled back abruptly, your fingers curling around Heeseung’s jaw, forcing him to look at you. Your eyes, once filled with heat, were now sharp, commanding.

"Did I say you could do that?" Your voice was low, dangerous.

Heeseung swallowed hard, his lips still parted, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He didn’t answer fast enough.

Your grip tightened, your nails pressing into his skin just enough to make him shiver. "I asked you a question, Heeseung."

He hesitated, then shook his head slightly. "No... you didn’t."

A smirk ghosted across your lips, but there was no warmth in it. "Then I guess you’ll have to make up for that mistake."

With a slow, deliberate push, you guided him back, her tone dripping with authority. "Sit down. Now."

After that you continues pulling down his jeans, but stop when you reaches his boxers. As slow as possible you start palming him trough them. And while it didn’t seem like a punishment at first, Heeseung understands now, cause he doesn’t want nothing more than just to be touched by you.

Heeseung bit down on his lower lip, muffling a whimper as his body trembled. Your hands slip under his boxers stroking his hard dick, but still slow and teasing.

His eyes, glossy with unshed tears, flickered upward, searching for mercy. “P-please…” he choked out, voice barely above a whisper.

A low chuckle met his plea. “Oh? Now you’re begging?” Fingers traced the curve of his jaw, tilting his chin up. “You knew there’d be consequences, didn’t you, Heeseung?”

His breath hitched as he nodded, another broken whimper slipping past his lips. He had known. But knowing never made it any easier.

Ni-ki sat perfectly still, his hands clenched into fists on his lap, his body tense with restraint. Heeseung’s soft whimpers filled the room, each one making it harder for him to stay still, to not reach out—to not react.

His jaw tightened as he swallowed the urge to move. He wanted to do something, anything, but he knew better. You hadn’t given him permission.

His gaze flickered toward you, eyes pleading, desperate for instruction. But all he received was a knowing smirk and a simple command:

“Stay.”

So he did. Even as Heeseung trembled beside him, even as his own resolve threatened to crack.

And then finally you pulled away from Heeseung, only to move forward and align your glistening cunt with his cock.

Heeseung who was already overstimulated by now, cried out as you lowered himself painfully slow. When his hard cock reached fully inside of you a loud moan left the both of you.

And with two words Heeseung felt like he could finally breathe again: “Fuck me“.

Heeseung’s hesitation melted away the moment he realized you weren’t stopping him. His grip tightened, his breath coming faster, excitement flickering to life in his darkened eyes.

A low chuckle slipped from his lips—this was what he had been craving. Control. Power. And now that you’d given him a taste, he wanted more.

He moves quickly, almost too eagerly, his cock thrusting into you hard and fast. “Fuck“ Ni-ki moans, sitting right next to you and watching the scene unfold.

Your hand is quick to grab Ni-kis face to pull him closer to your body, your dark eyes roaming his features, expression dripping in the deadly combination of ecstasy and lust.

“Open up“

The command was sharp, leaving no room for hesitation. And there was none. His lips parted instantly, instinctively, his breath hitching just slightly as he held still, waiting for whatever you decided to give him.

You leaned in slowly, letting the anticipation coil between you, before finally letting the saliva drip from your lips into his waiting mouth.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed without question, without complaint.

“Good boy,” you murmured, watching the way his pupils dilated at the praise. He didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact—just waited, ready for whatever you wanted next.

At the same time it feels like Heeseung is hitting every single one of your sweetest spots, the tip of his cock grazing the entrance to your womb with every single one of his movements.

Your voice cut through the moans, firm and unwavering. “Switch.”

Ni-ki moved first—quick, obedient, slipping seamlessly into Heeseung’s position without hesitation. This time you sat down facing the other direction, your ass facing Ni-ki. Heeseung, on the other hand, hesitated for just a second, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to protest. But one sharp look from you had him lowering his gaze and moving, albeit slower, adjusting to his new role.

You pulled him in front of you, while lowering yourself on Ni-ki. It doesn't take him too long to find the perfect rhythm, pulling his cock all the way out of your tight cunt just to thrust himself back inside of you with sharp movements of his hips.

At the same time you guided Heeseungs dick in to your mouth as a reward for being this good to you the last few hours. All you can do is moan on his dick as the feeling of both their cocks filling you up takes over the last bits of your rational thinking. Lee Heeseung and Nishimura Riki are doing soemthing to your body you’ve never experienced before and at this point you don’t even know what to feel or think.

You feel your second orgasm building up and notices how the two men fucking you are also nearly there. So without saying another word, you push your hand between your bodys and start rubbing another set of harsh circles onto your clit.

It takes exactly a minute and the combination of Ni-kis merciless thrusts and Heeseung pushing his cock down your throat with just the right clit stimulation for you to cum all over Ni-kis cock. This time your orgasm feels even more intense, so intense your vission actually darkens for a solid second before turning blurry.

You're so caught up in the sweetness of your own relief, you barely notice the way Ni-kis thrusts start growing sloppy and uncoordinated and without giving it another thought, you lazily reach back to grab a fistful of his hair and pull at the thick strands and just as expected is the pain in his scalp enough to elicit a deep, gutturual moan from him as he cums inside of you.

Finally heaving your full attention Heeseung reaches for your mouth and trusts a few times more before pulling out with a heavy and breathy moan and coming all over your face.

Heavy breathing is the only sound to fill Heeseung's room for the following few minutes, and as the fog of pleasure slowly starts disappearing, you feel like you're finally able to breathe again.

The room was quieter now, the intensity from earlier gradually fading as the atmosphere shifted. You stood before Heeseung and Ni-ki, their gazes following you, not with the same weight of submission as before, but with an unspoken respect.

“Alright,” you said softly, your voice no longer carrying the sharp edge of authority it once did. “We’re back to normal now.”

Heeseung straightened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he finally exhaled, his posture more relaxed than it had been in hours. His eyes met yours with a quiet understanding, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The control had returned to its proper balance, and with it, a certain ease between all of you.

Ni-ki shifted, the electric energy that had once surged through him now tempered with calm. He gave a small nod, his gaze not as intense as before but still filled with a hint of admiration. He wasn’t seeking approval anymore; there was something deeper now, a trust that had been forged through everything that had happened.

“Better?” you asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

Heeseung nodded, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Much better,” he replied, his voice more at ease now. Ni-ki’s agreement came in a quiet murmur, a subtle shift in his demeanor that mirrored the new harmony between all of them.

“You know,” Ni-ki said, breaking the quiet, “we can do this any way you want. Just… don’t make it so heavy next time.”

You smirked slightly, a playful glint in your eye. “I think we all learned something today, didn’t we?” you said, letting the words hang in the air.

Heeseung shot you a teasing look. “Next time, I get to make the rules.”

“Not so fast,” you replied with a soft laugh, feeling the balance settle back into place. The evening had settled into a comfortable quiet, the air lighter now that the tension had dissipated. You sat on the couch, surrounded by Heeseung and Ni-ki, both of them more relaxed than they had been hours ago. The moments of intensity had passed, but the shift in the atmosphere was palpable—there was a newfound understanding between all of you.

“We’ve been through a lot,” you said, voice soft yet steady. You could feel the weight of the day lifting off everyone’s shoulders, a sense of peace spreading through the room.

Ni-ki glanced at Heeseung before speaking up, his tone light but sincere. “I think we’re good now, yeah? It doesn’t feel as… tense anymore.”

Heeseung nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I agree. We’ve figured things out.” He met your gaze, eyes filled with a mixture of respect and something deeper, a connection that went beyond the dynamics of control.

You smiled, leaning back against the cushions, feeling content with how things had turned out. “This is what it should always be—trust and understanding. We each have our roles, but we’re all in this together.”

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, the quiet comfortable. No longer defined by power struggles or control, the bond between you all had evolved into something more genuine, more real. It wasn’t about dominance or submission anymore; it was about each of you finding your place and respecting each other’s limits, desires, and needs.

Eventually, Heeseung reached over, nudging Ni-ki playfully. “So, what now?”

Ni-ki grinned, the energy that had once been electric now settling into something more playful. “Now? We just… live, I guess.”

You looked at them both, a sense of pride swelling in your chest. “Exactly,” you said. “No rush. Just… live.”

Note: Yeahh… so that just happened… not proofread yet btw

Still let me know how you liked it :)

Masterlist

Open taglist

If you’d like to be tagged in future updates for other storys, let me know by:

- Sending me a message or

- Dropping a comment on this post (or any story)

@kissezfornamjoon @luvleyylina @crimson-reaper576 @d-dilemma @laylasbunbunny @luv-rizzimura @hoonkishoe

[aemondapologistfrfr]

You Know What I Want

daemon x daughter!reader

anon request - sorry this took me 80 years to write but we're back!!!

It’s Always Been You part 2 but can be read alone!

Summary: Rhaenyra tries to pull Daemon's attention away from you but at every chance Daemon proves that it’s only you he wants. After he wins the tourney he shows you off as his prize and takes you back to his chambers to give you his full attention.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, a tournament so violence, blood, weapons, Rhae and Alicent being catty, swearing, public, thigh riding, oral(f+m), face fucking, fingering, p in v, breeding kink, daddy kink ofc, bulge/size kink, overstim but he just wants to make sure ur taken care of ofc

Authors Note: this isn’t the tournament - timeline is skewed but who cares 🤗 let’s just enjoy some more daddy daemon - again so so so sorry this took me forever but i hope you still enjoy it!!!!

Word Count: 4.7k 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Dameon has been looking for you for the past hour. You know very well he was coming to collect you to escort you to the tourney grounds himself. His temper is slowly rising to mask his outright worry at where you could be. Your guard was missing from outside your chambers so at least you have some form of protection but he’d prefer to be protecting you. He shakes his head when he hears a familiar voice. 

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra calls out. “I seldom see you anymore.” he turns as she comes to a stop in front of him. 

“I’ve been occupied.” he watches Rhaenyra squint her eyes. “Lady Alicent.” he looks to the girl on her left.

“Good morrow,” she tilts her head down. “Are you excited for the tournament?” she offers him a soft smile.

“I suppose.” he nods and looks around the main hall. “Have either of you seen my daughter?” he brings his attention back to the girls in front of him.

“No, I’ve just returned from dragonback. It’s lovely outside today.” Rhaenyra bats her eyes at him. “I had hoped we might fly together later?” she takes a step closer to him. 

“I don’t think-

“Daddy?” his head snaps at your voice. 

“Where have you been, sweet girl?” he abandons the conversation he was currently trapped in and walks over to you. “I was worried.” he whispers, grabbing onto your arms. 

“I had to finish making my tourney favor.” you smile up at him. 

“I was looking everywhere for you.” he brings his hand up to your face. “I don’t like when you’re away from me.” he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead. 

“I’m sorry.” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him. 

You lean your head to the side as you curl in against Daemon and watch as Rhaenyra’s face falls. She whispers something to Alicent before storming up the stairs and tugging off her gloves. You press your cheek against his chest and he holds you tighter. When you walked into the hall you saw how close she was to your father and it made your heart hurt. 

“What's wrong?” he chuckles as you wrap your arms around him tighter.

“She desires you.” you mumble against him.

“Who?” he pulls you back. 

“Rhaenyra and maybe Alicent too.” you furrow your brow. “Do you desire them?” he watches your eyes well with tears.

“Of course not.” he shakes his head. God’s if you knew the crimes he committed to be with you now. “I only desire you.” he searches your eyes. “Can I escort you to the carriage I have for us?” he offers you his arm. 

“I would like that.” you nod, blinking away your tears. “I’m sorry I had you worried this morning.” you whisper, letting him lead you out of the Keep. 

“Maybe I’ll just have you move into my chambers.” you gasp at his words.

“Could I really?” you beam up at him.

“If I win this tourney,” he helps you step into the carriage. “I’ll ask for you again.” he takes the seat across from you and shuts the door.

“Can I come sit by you?” you pout.

“Come here, sweet girl.” he helps you up and starts to pull your skirts up. He chuckles when you flush. “Just like this.” he pulls you down onto one of his thighs.

“Oh,” the word let out on a breath. He brings his hands down to your hips and slowly starts to rock you against his leg. “Yes,” you sigh, starting to move your hips yourself. 

“That’s my good girl. Take your pleasure.” he watches you hump against him and let out little whimpers. 

“I like this.” you pant looking up at him with lidded eyes. “Can you touch me?” you plead. He slips a hand under your skirts and rubs above your small clothes. “Under.” you whine rocking faster. 

“Let daddy keep these for luck today.” he pulls at the fabric and you nod quickly. 

He lifts you and pulls your small clothes down to your ankles quickly. You reach down and grab them before he takes them and shoves them down his pocket. Straddling his thigh once more you waste no time and begin grinding against his thigh again. The feel of his trousers on your bare center has you digging your nails into his arms.

“Gonna make a mess all over my trousers?” he chuckles. 

“Yes,” you nod, moving faster against his thigh. He grips your waist and moves you faster, listening to your noises. You rest your head on his shoulder and focus on your pleasure that’s quickly approaching. “Daddy I’m-I, please,” you whine. 

“Let go, sweet girl.” he smirks when you fall against his chest as you tremble in his arms.

“Thank you.” you continue to cling against him as your pleasure continues to wash though you.

Daemon brings your lips to his and swallows down all of your noises as he continues to slowly rock you against him. As he feels the carriage shift onto new ground he pulls you back despite your protests. He sets you back into your seat and smooths your skirts and hair making you presentable once more but he knows the slight flush on your face is from him. When the carriage comes to a stop he helps you out and offers you his arm. 

“Can I just stay with you until you have to go out?” you whisper up at him, 

“It’s no place for my pretty princess to be.” he presses his lips to the side of your head. 

“But I won’t have anyone to sit with.” you push your bottom lip out. “My handmaidens aren’t here and Alicent and Rhaenyra don’t talk to me.” you squeeze his arm tighter. 

“Then I’ll just have to best everyone quickly so I can get back to you.” he smiles down at you as he enters you through the tourney gates.

“Will you at least walk me to my seat?” you whisper.

“Of course.” he hums, already leading you toward the stairs. Once you both make it to the landing he nods at his brother and escorts you to your seat near the front. “Is this seat good enough for my sweet girl?” he smiles watching you take your seat. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt today.” you blink up at him. 

“You know I’ll be wearing my armor.” he reminds you. 

“But even then.” he sighs as your eyes well with tears and he kneels before you. 

“I promise I won’t get hurt and-

“Daemon, I expected you to already be getting ready.” Rhaenyra’s voice rings in from behind you and he watches your face fall. “Or will you not be participating anymore.” you can feel her eyes on the back of your head.

“I wanted to make sure my sweet girl found her seat and was comfortable.” he cups your cheeks and places his lips on your forehead. “After I win this tourney, I’m going to parade you around and claim you as mine.” he’s content at the furious blush spreading across your cheeks.

Daemon brushes your cheek before leaving the box and making his way back down the stairs to ready for the tournament. You clasp your hands on your lap and look around on the grounds as men hurry to get everything into place. You thank a servant that brings you a small cup and you lean back in your seat basking in the afternoon sun. The stands begin to fill quickly and the chatter is soon filling your ears until you hear the whispered words behind you. 

“I don’t know what he sees in her, she doesn’t even have a dragon.” Rhaenyra’s hushed words slither into your ears.

“And she's his daughter.” Alicent hisses back. “I know your family has.. Odd customs but that is just..” you pretend not to hear anything more they say until the king makes his opening speech. 

The speech is short and you're relieved when words are replaced with the sound of clashing metal to drown out the conversations around you. When the violence becomes too much you look into the stands and study the small folk. They get so worked up at such violence, almost as if they thrive in it. Twice now you’ve spotted fights break out in the stands and sigh looking somewhere else. 

Your eye catches a streak of white and red down in the sands and you smile when you spot your father. You scoot closer to the edge of your seat as he mounts his horse and trots out into the sands. Your lip finds a home between your teeth as his opponent ready’s at his opposite side. A horn bellows and they charge at each other causing your breath to catch. Daemons shield brakes but he’s replaced it by the time he’s charging at the knight once more. This time he saves his shield but is almost dismounted and you feel as if you’re going to be sick.

“As if he’ll actually be harmed.” you can’t even differentiate between their voices anymore as you give your father every ounce of your attention.

They charge at each other a third time and you feel as if your heart is thundering louder than the horses in the sand. You felt the impact your father sent the opposing knight and his horse to the ground in one move. You watch as he dismounts and kicks the man back to the ground. Your nails are digging into your seat's edge because you know how this ends. You’re aware of who your father is and how he- You jump and squeeze your eyes shut as his blade pierces through the man's neck. 

The crowd cheers and you peek your eyes open and sigh in relief that they’re already pulling the body out of the sands. You watch as he gets atop his horse once more and raises his lance at the crowds reviving their rowdy nature. He slows when he approaches the box you’re in and you scoot closer to the railing to look down at him. When he sees your red cheeks a grin forms on his face which widens even more when you lean over the edge.

“Are you okay?” you don’t see anything that causes concern on his armor or face.

“Yes, sweet girl, I’m okay.” he chuckles. “I’m sure to be even better if I could have your favor.” you smile at his words. 

“Yes,” you clap your hands together and turn to grab the small project that took up your morning. You ignore the faces Alicent and Rhaenyra make at you and turn back to your father. “Please be safe.” you whisper before placing your lips against a flower and sliding it down his lance. 

“Thank you.” he nods up at you. 

“I miss you.” you whisper down leaning closer. 

“I’ll be done soon.” he offers you a warm smile and watches you take your seat once more. 

He takes his place once more as the last opponent takes to the sands. The stands let out loud cheers as the announcer wishes them the best before the horn sounds. You watch as the sand dusts up causing a moment of terror when you can’t spot him but just barely you can see his winged helmet charging to the other side once more. There’s a clash and collective gasp as the dust settles. You cover your mouth when the man is impaled on the end of Daemon's lance and laying back in the sands. 

The stands go wild when Daemon is announced as the victor. You rise and walk to the ledge as he begins to approach you once more. He tells you to meet him by the stairs and you’re quickly fleeing your seat and racing towards him. He lifts you up and carries you back out to the sands in his arms. You look only at him and ignore the small murmur washing through the crowd. You both turn back up the box you were just in as the king starts to speak. 

“Congratulations brother,” he walks you closer to the king. “Ask me for anything and if I am able, I will grant it.” he nods with a smile.

“You know very well what I want, Viserys.” Daemon turns his attention up to you. 

“Not here.” the king's voice washes over the both of you. 

“A simple yes will suffice.” Daemon smirks up at his brother. 

“Daemon,” he warns.

“Viserys,” Daemon challenges. 

“Yes, but not here.” Daemon chuckles but nods his head. 

“Thank you, my king.” he makes a show of lowering his head. 

“Go celebrate.” he waves him off and disappears. 

The only celebrating Daemon is planning on doing is with you and you alone. You smile as he leads the both of you out of the stands. He whispers to tell you to look away as you pass the injured men so he can remove his armor. He smiles when you bury your head into his neck and leave kisses against the small amount of skin you can find. He sets you down once you’re both in a small room and you begin to help him remove his armor.

“I’ve always enjoyed seeing you in this.” you step back. “Can you put your helmet back on?” you tilt your head. “Just for a moment?” he smirks at your soft words.

“Any other requests?” he steps closer to you. 

“You’re so handsome, daddy.” you rest your palms on his chest plate. “I want to go back to the Keep.” you look up at him with lidded eyes. 

“What’s at the Keep that you want so badly?” he starts to remove his armor once more.

“Our bed.” you whisper and he’s ready to take you right here. 

He’s pulling the metal off himself quicker at your soft whines. You insist on checking him over here since a maester is nearby and the only thing that the maester suggested was a bath. Daemon chuckles at your pursed lips as they begin to slowly bring in buckets of water. Everyone quickly leaves the two of you and you begin to pull off the remainder of his clothes and grab a clean cloth.

“You’re not in any pain?” you ask as you start to clean him. 

“No.” he whispers, watching you look across every inch of his skin making sure there is no new blemish. “Sweet girl,” he warns as you clean him more thoroughly than expecting. 

“If you’re getting into our bed you will be clean.” you softly tut and a smile forms on his face.

He lets his eyes close and his shoulders relax as you tend to him. You’ve always been so devoted before but this feels different. He feels every ounce of your love for him as you clean and check him over. As you circle him you grab his discarded tunic and place it on the ground in front of him. You kneel on the fabric and begin to clean his lower legs and his eyes snap open. He groans when he sees you at his feet. 

“I’m almost done, but..” you trail off. “You know how you kiss my cunny?” you blink up at him.

“Yes.” his words low as his cock starts to harden.

“Can I kiss your cock? I’d like to but I don’t know if it’s-

“Yes, you can.” he nods his head quickly. 

“Really?” you smile. “Anywhere?” you grab onto his length and he inhales. 

“Mhm.” you lean forward and press your lips to his tip. “Fuck,” you watch as his stomach flexes as you continue to press your lips down his length. “We need to-” he tosses his head back as your tongue circles his tip. “We need to go back to the Keep.” he steps back.

“Do you not like my kisses?” you start to frown.

“I like them very much but I want you in our chambers, not in the tourney grounds.” he helps you up.

“I could kiss you more in the carriage. I could be on the ground there?” you nod with a smile, handing him clean trousers and a tunic. 

“My cock can stay in my trousers until I have you naked before me.” he pulls his trousers up and they rest low on his hips. 

“Please, they’re just kisses.” you press your hands to his lower stomach. “Please,” you inch your hands lower. 

“My Gods,” he chuckles, pressing his lips to yours. “Lets go.” he pulls his tunic on and begins to lead you out of the small room. 

He nods at the men who congratulate him as he continues to lead you through the narrow halls. When the fresh air hits you both you cling closer to his side. He lifts you once more and you wrap your limbs around him as he whispers how you're his prize for winning. As he approaches the carriage he sets you down and helps you in, clicking the door shut behind him. 

“See?” you get to your knees on the wood. “I can fit.” you nod, scooting between his legs. “Daddy please,” you rest your head on his thigh. 

“I guess.” he chuckles as your fingers are pulling at his laces instantly. 

“Thank you.” you pull out his still hard cock and continue on with your small experimental kisses. 

Daemon watches as you outright worship his cock while you think it’s an innocent gesture. Just small kisses. You find a prominent vein on his underside and slowly trail your tongue up to his tip. You find his tip leaking and quickly lap at his slit but more comes out and greets your tongue. He can’t hold his composure as you continuously lick at his tip, his stomach is coiling and when you wrap your lips around the head and slowly sink down he tosses his head back against the wood. 

Daemon has always tried to show some semblance of restraint with you but right now all he wants to do is get you in his chambers, hang you off his bed and fuck your face. You hum when he brushes your hair back and the vibrations travel down his length. You pull back off to just his tip and suck harshly as he lets out a string of curses. You pull him out of your mouth and rub your hands down his shaft and press his tip to your lips and across your cheeks and when you finally look up at him with lidded eyes you see his clenched jaw and flushed cheeks. 

“I wanna do this all day.” you whisper between little licks at his tip. 

“When I get you in my chambers I’m-“ the carriage comes to a stop and he quickly helps you up and adjusts his pants before anyone can rip open the doors. As if on cue the door is opened by a guard letting the light in. 

Daemon groans wishing he didn’t have to parade you through the Keep before he could fill you. You hop out of the carriage with a smile on your face as you greet the ladies walking around the yard. He watches you with a smile wondering how you can just go about courtly duties like you weren’t just begging to suck and lick at his cock for hours. He escorts you into the Keep silently groaning as everyone stops to congratulate him on his win. His cock is growing harder, almost painful now. He waves the rest of everyone off and hauls you up the stairs, ready to toss you over his shoulder if he must. 

You offer small waves to the Lords and Ladies as he finally gets you on his floor. He’s trying to hurry you but he doesn’t want to take away the smile on your face as you have these conversations. His chamber doors are in sight and rounding the corner is another set of ladies. He grabs your hand and all of your attention turns to him. He brushes your hair back and starts to lead you to his chambers trying to not break eye contact with you. He’s able to push open his doors and get you inside without another conversation. The moment the doors are clicked shut he’s unlacing your dress and pushing it down your shoulders. 

“Go to the bed.” he pulls off your slip. 

“I wanna kiss your cock more.” you pout up at him. 

“You will.” he caresses your jaw.

“Now.” you scrunch your brows and he starts to lead you over to the bed and clicks his tongue at its short height. 

“I think the table will be better.” he pulls you over to the table and lifts you up. He chuckles at your squeak about the wood being cold. You scrunch your brows when he turns you around and scoots you further down. “Lay down.” he collects your hair in his hand as you slowly flatten out. “Just like this.” his cock twitches watching your head hang off the table as you blink up at him with a confused expression. 

He pulls off his tunic and is quickly unlacing his trousers next and pushing them to the floor. You watch as he starts to stroke his cock and you whine reaching out for it. He shakes his head and you put your hands back on the table. Stepping forward he traces his tip against your lips and smiles when you part your lips for him. Your eyes flutter shut when he pushes himself into your mouth. 

“Daddy’s gonna claim your throat just like he did with your cunny.” he groans when you open your jaw even wider for him. 

He slowly pushes himself down your throat expecting you to choke a little bit but he’s welcomed with the sight of him inside your throat. He stays like that until you let out a little whimper and he pulls back out before starting a steady rhythm. You rub your thighs together at the low noises he’s making and give out a little noise when he pinches both of your nipples. He starts to move faster, smirking when he sees spit coming from the sides of your mouth. 

“Play with your little cunny. Show daddy how much you like his cock down your throat.” he grunts, feeling his pleasure approaching. You moan around his cock when your fingers start to swirl around your wetness. “That’s my good girl.” he rolls your nipples watching your legs clamp around your hand. 

He presses one of his hands on your throat, feeling himself spreading you open. Your fingers are rubbing quickly at your bud and you’re starting to arch off the table. Your muffled whines are about to send him over the edge. His pace quickens and you squeeze your eyes shut as you start to feel your throat coated in warmth. He slowly pumps into you letting you swallow down all of his pleasure before he pulls out. Your mouth is dripping with spit and come as your chest heaves. 

“Thank you.” your voice a little raspy. “Thank you.” you reach for his length and he shutters as you place a small kiss on his tip. 

He lifts you up from the table and you wrap yourself around him before he’s dropping you back onto his bed. He drops to his knees and pulls your dripping center straight to his mouth. You arch off the bed as he licks at you furiously before shoving two fingers into you. Your little noises tell him that you're close already and he has no plan on stopping until his cock is hard and aching again. Your first high slams through you so quickly you have no chance to catch your breath.

Your legs clamp around his face as he continues to push his fingers into you quickly as he suckles at your bud. He presses your tummy down to keep you on the bed in front of him and you’re clawing at his arm as your pleasure is quickly building. You babble above him as your body trembles as waves of pleasure slam through you. 

“Daddy I-“ your chest heaves and he pulls back an inch.

“One more and I’ll fill you.” he attaches himself back to your ever leaking cunny and you already feel yourself on the cusp of your high. 

He holds you closer to his face and slams his fingers in and out of you. Your legs shake and your toes curl as you dig into the sheets feeling so much pleasure everywhere. With a couple more flicks of his tongue you’re bursting across his face as you hear his low chuckle as he comes up with a wet face. He watches you tremble as he offers your throbbing bud small licks sending jolts throughout your body. 

“Are you ready for daddy to fill you?” he starts to kiss up your body. 

“Please, please,” you reach out for him. 

“And you want to carry daddy’s child?” you pant as his tip slides up your slit when he crawls over you. 

“Yes,” you gasp when he takes one of your nipples between his teeth. “Please put a baby in my tummy.” you claw at his back. 

“I’m gonna put a lot of baby’s in your tummy.” he chuckles and sheaths himself inside of you in one motion. 

He groans watching you press your hand to the outline of his cock as he pounds into you. Your eyes are squeezed shut and you let out small whimpers with every thrust. He falters when he feels you pulse around him hearing your gasp. He leans over you and presses his mouth to yours and makes his thrusts more slow and demanding. Your legs wrap around his waist as you relish in the closeness of him. 

“I’m gonna fill this cunny so thoroughly for the rest of the night there will be no reason you’re not swollen with my child in a couple of months.” he mumbles against your lips as he continues with his slow pace. “My sweet little girl, swollen with my seed.” his words become slightly slurred from his own pleasure and desire. 

“Please,” the word barely audible. 

“Daddy will take care of you.” his pace becomes slightly erratic as his stomach tightens. “Fuck,” he groans when you pulse around him again and he spills his seed inside of you. “Such a good girl.” he presses his forehead to yours. 

“Thank you.” your eyes are still shut as he softly pumps his seed into you. 

“Take a nap and I’ll go get you some water.” he watches you nod your head, never opening your eyes. 

He slowly pulls out and watches as his seed slowly leaks out of your cunny. He watches your chest slowly rise and fall as sleep already has you in its embrace. He cracks the door open and with a few whispered words he’s having food and drink brought up for you. He crawls back into bed with you and slowly pushes his seed back into you with his fingers. You let out small noises but are content to let him do as he pleases. Once he’s satisfied it’s all stuffed back in you he splays his hand against your stomach with a smile that it’s soon to be swollen. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist  ⏾  wips  ⏾  taglist 

i have 2 two more daddy daemon fics coming up and one of them is a little ménage à trois 🤭🤤

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers @eternalwinters @rere10 @sxlsvv @sarahrosw36q @tricksterreaper @somethingsaladsomething @naty-sunshine @supernaturalwitch89

[nereidprinc3ss]

you’re my best friend

in which spencer reid has to teach your young son how to make friends nicely after a day at the park gone awry

fluff!! warnings/tags: fem!reader, husband!spencer yum, boy dad spencer enters the nereidprinc3ss cinematic universe!!!! yayyy!! but you still have a baby daughter as well, Spencer would 100% give his children old people names I'm sorry, gentle parenting Spencer my beloved a/n: I really miss spring its my favorite season so I found this draft that feels very springy and it makes me very happy also.. the name... like queen... also this is old so its probably not winning a pulitzer

The sun beats down just shy of hot on the sheath of fresh grass where you and Spencer are comforting your crying son—the ground beneath your blanket is a lush, verdant carpet, still cool with springtime rain but not wet. 

All of this pleasantry is lost on your son Oliver. He’s too focused on the scraped knee he sustained when he got pushed over on the wood chips. Marianne, your baby girl, is gurgling happily in her little bassinet next to you. Whoever said raising girls was harder had obviously never met the Reid siblings. Oliver is a drama queen—something you suspect he inherited from his father. 

“See? All better,” your husband is saying, wedding band glinting as gold as the curls that fall to his eyes as he smooths a bandaid over Oli’s wound. Seeing him like this never gets old.

Oli’s crying chokes to a confused halt. 

“It still hurts,” he complains. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. But you shouldn’t’ve pushed.”

���I wanted to be her f-friend,” Oli says, his sweet little bow lips (all Spencer) beginning to pout again. 

Your husband wipes Oliver’s already teary cheeks gently. “I know, but she didn’t know that. Not everybody likes to be pushed, even when you’re playing, because it’s kinda mean, isn’t it?”

“I was not being mean.”

“Do you push all your friends?”

“Sometimes,” Oliver says stormily. Spencer gives him a knowing look. 

“Are you sure you didn’t push her just because she’s a girl?”

Little shoulders raise and drop heavily. Guilty. 

“I know it’s sometimes hard to make friends with girls, but they generally don’t like being pushed. Not anymore than boys do. Maybe even less.”

“Then how do I make friends with them?”

Spencer considers this. 

“Well… how do you usually make friends?”

“I ask if they wanna play.”

“Sounds like you already know how to make friends with girls, then. That’s all you have to do.”

“How did you be friends with mommy?” Oli asks, bunching the blanket in his little hand. You smile to yourself.  

Spencer’s eyes flash up to you for only a second, his lips parted in what only you would recognize to be amusement. 

“I was super nice to her. Me and mommy are really good friends, right?”

Oliver nods dutifully. 

“Do you know why?”

A shake of his little curly head, this time.

“Because when you’re nice to someone, it usually makes them want to be your friend. Not always. But you have a much better chance that way. If I pushed mommy the first time we met, I don’t think we’d be here today.”

Your lips flatten to zip in a laugh. To Oliver, this is a very serious matter. To you, too. It’s important that he grows up to treat people well. 

“Why not?”

Spencer dodges the question smoothly. 

“Why don’t you try going to apologize to her? She might not want to talk to you, and that’s okay. But if you say you’re sorry, maybe you guys can play nicely together.”

This determines the already willful Oliver, who pushes up clumsily before running down the knoll on his short legs and approaching the swing set where his earlier assailant now plays alone. He stops far enough away that he can make a break for it if she gets a fixing to push him again. Smart boy. 

You and Spencer observe the interaction carefully, and while you can’t hear what’s being said, things seem to go well. Soon they’re making their way to the little kid’s playground in tandem. 

“Super nice, huh?”

“I really wanted to be your friend,” Spencer counters, scooting closer to Marianne’s bassinet. “Hi, angel,” he coos, demeanor instantly softening as he strokes her soft cheek. You can’t help smiling. The look in his eyes is truly something to behold. “God, I’m never gonna get over how much she looks like you.”

You preen and try to hide it. “You can’t possibly know that yet. Her skeletal structure is far from fully developed.” 

“Uh oh,” Spencer says to Marianne, offering her a quarter of a strawberry from a Tupperware. “Mommy is starting to sound like me. Is that scary, or what?”

Marianne cackles and burbles and takes the fruit with her little clutching fingers, only missing her mouth the first time she tries to eat it. 

“You’re so good at this,” you murmur thoughtlessly. The moment Oliver was born he’d been a natural. Earlier, even. You saw it in his eyes the second you tearfully told him you were pregnant. He’s a man of many gifts—and that extends to the way he parents. 

His gaze turns to you, still just as soft, but more knowing, on you. It’s comforting, to be known and seen and loved like that. 

“Couldn’t do it without you.”

“Corny,” you tease.

He shuffles on his knees to be closer to you. “Biologically factual.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you into him with an arm and presses a firm kiss to your head. 

“Have I told you how much I appreciate you recently?” He murmurs into the quiet dark against your temple, shielded from the spring sun. 

You’re melting in his hold, the way you always do. “Mhm.”

“Good. There’s nobody I’d rather be super nice to.”

You breathe him in—feel the rush of happy chemicals flood your brain.

“What if I pushed you?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he asserts, pulling back and framing your face between his hands. 

“But if I did.”

He regards you with narrowed eyes. 

“Why? Am I in trouble?”

“Maybe.” But you say it too coyly. The corner of his mouth twitches. 

“I’d forgive you,” Spencer murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “But if you want to be my friend, you can just ask, lovely.”

One more quick peck, and he’s situating himself to lay his head in your lap once more. You slide his sunglasses on for him once he’s settled, and he catches your hand, kissing your knuckles. Your lips twist. 

“You make it so hard to want to push you. I need you to be mean.”

He laughs. 

“Too bad. I like being nice to you.”

[dreaminofdixon]

I mentioned that they met in kind of a…hostile way. :) little bit longer here, but it gets the point across!!

————-

The door opened slowly and I saw the gun before I saw anything else.

I put both hands on my weapon and held it tightly.

When I was learning about guns, my instructor once told me ‘Squeeze the gun as tightly as you can, that’s how you control it. I’ve never seen anyone break a gun, but if you’re the first I will gladly replace it.’

I wasn’t. I’d never broken a gun. Except for that one time I tried to clean my 9mm and wasn’t able to get the slide back on. I felt like an idiot, like I’d broken the friggin gun and it took me weeks to figure out how to free the slide and several additional YouTube videos to learn how to actually put it back on the right way.

Spoiler alert: if there’s a grip safety, you can’t squeeze the grip when putting the slide back on.

I pointed the gun at the man who entered the room. He hadn’t yet seen me.

“Get out,” I said in as menacing a voice as I could manage.

His blue eyes shot in my direction and he swung his large revolver to point at me at the same time. He was wearing a Sheriff’s uniform. How ironic. A man in law enforcement who, very likely, could not be trusted.

“We don’t want any trouble,” he told me.

Liar.

“Are you alone?”

“Get. Out.”

He holstered his gun and held his hands up in surrender.

“We aren’t gonna hurt you.”

Is it possible to feel feral? Because I felt feral. Like I was backed into a corner and like I was going to have to pull some crazy shit to fight my way to freedom. I was ready though, so bring it on.

“Are you alone,” he asked again.

“Last chance,” I told him, taking aim, “get out.”

Two other men came in, one armed with a crossbow and the other with…a red backpack.

What the hell?

I tilted my head to the side and looked at the shorter Asian kid. He looked like he was maybe in his early 20s. The dirty baseball cap really did nothing to make him seem any older than that. And though he appeared to be harmless - appearances are often deceiving.

The other guy looked like a redneck and was pointing his crossbow, with a very sharp metal arrowhead, at me.

Shivers went up and down my spine at the thought of being impaled by the weapon. New fear successfully unlocked.

“Put it down, Daryl,” the first man said.

“Not ‘til she does.”

The deep, raspy voice that came from the redneck spoke to something deep inside me.

“Then I guess we have a problem,” I told him. “Because that isn’t gonna happen. So you might as well turn around and get the hell out of here like I told you to.”

“Daryl.”

The redneck, apparently named Daryl, looked back at the other man before lowering his weapon and narrowing his eyes at me. Like I was the problem. Ha!

“We have a group,” the police man started, “with women and children. If you’re alone, we’d be happy to have you.”

“I’m sure you would.” I leaned down to pick up my bag, throwing it over my shoulder whilst keeping the gun and my eyes trained on him. “Look, let’s just forget this happened.” I used the gun to motion them away from the door before returning the aim to his forehead. “I’ll leave and you guys can…do whatever you’re gonna do.”

“Let ‘er go, Rick.” That gravelly drawl…oof.

Get a hold of yourself, girl.

“Wait…I know you,” the Asian kid said.

“What?”

“Yeah, the 40 West 12th building, right?”

What the hell?

I pointed the gun in his direction and he held up his hands immediately.

“I’ve delivered to you before,” he clarified. “Pizza, mostly, but I also do grocery delivery here and there.” He shrugged his shoulders, “Well, did, anyway.” He looked from one man to the other. “She tips really well, hard to forget that.”

I lowered the gun slowly.

“How long did your building last?”

I couldn’t decide what was going on here. Was this some sort of trick? To be fair, I did usually tip on the high end…but, could he have just guessed? Was I obligated to him since he delivered food to me? Was he obligated to me?

“Um…I think…it’s been a couple of weeks now,” I answered hesitantly.

“You’ve been alone,” the kid asked. He saw the look I gave him and realized his mistake. “Sorry, I’m Glenn. This is Rick and that’s Daryl.” He stepped forward just slightly. “Look, we were alone, too, until we found each other. Now we have a group. Rick’s a sheriff and his partner, Shane, is in the group too. Rick’s wife, Lori, and his kid, Carl. Daryl and his brother. We have a couple of other families with us, too. We’ve got a camp not far outside town…”

“Whoa, stop tellin’ her ‘bout our setup,” Daryl cut him off and lifted his crossbow again, only slightly this time. “We dunno if she can be trusted. Could be on ‘er way back t’ people that could…”

I rolled my eyes at him, “do I look like I have a group waiting for me? Really? What kind of idiot would I be to wander off alone if I had a freaking group?”

His eyes locked on mine, the glare enough to make me want to look away. I wouldn’t, though. I had to stand my ground and make sure he knew I wasn’t gonna be someone who he could walk all over.

“Like I said, you’re more than welcome to come back with us. Our setup isn’t anything special,” he explained, “but we’ve got safety in numbers.”

“Ya sure that’s a good idea?”

Daryl was very clearly not someone who trusted people. Couldn’t blame him, honestly. The sheriff looked over at him and nodded.

“Safety in numbers, like I said.” His attention fell back on me. “It’s getting late. We’re gonna finish clearing this building and then…”

“There’s nothing else here.” I lowered my gun but kept my guard up. “I’ve been through everything. Seems like all the dead are up on the top two floors. The rest of the building has been pretty well cleaned out. I found a couple of first aid kits but there’s not really anything else that’s worth the danger.”

“Any food or…”

“Nothing substantial.” I bit the inside of my cheek, an anxious habit I’d had since I was young. And every single dentist I’d ever been to had made it a point to comment on the fact that the insides of my cheeks were chewed up.

Oh, thanks for pointing that out, I had no idea.

“I mean, I found some typical office snack kinda things. Candy bars. Granola bars. Instant coffee.”

“Well, that saves us some time.” Rick nodded.

“So, do you guys like…have…an actual house or something?”

_________

I’m kinda jumping around a little bit? Should I just share the whole story or keep sharing little snips? I’m not sure. I feel like snips are my favorite little pieces. 🤷🏼‍♀️

Anyway….thanks for checking it out and reading!!

[theocddiaries]

[Abraham enters the break room and starts making coffee. While waiting, he begins to hum. He stops and frowns. Shadow enters.] Abraham: Shadow, hey… have we fixed a leak or something around here? Shadow: No. Abraham: Any old computer or something? Shadow: No. We haven’t fixed anything because nothing was broken. Abraham: You sure?? I don’t know… I just realized I’m in a good mood while on the clock… Shadow: Maybe you're having a good day. Abraham: Highly improbable. I don't know, it's something's missing, like a… a background noise, you know? Like… [imitates a high-pitched sound]: iiiiiiiiiiiiiiih— [Cut to Angel Island, where Rouge is making that exact sound.] Rouge: Iiiiiiiiiih, this is so exciting, Knuckles! I love getting to spend my vacation week with you! Knuckles: …Yeah, wonderful. A dream. You here telling me I do everything wrong, haha… Rouge: Oh, so passive-aggressive. If I didn’t know you, Knuckie, I’d say you don’t like being given pointers. Knuckles: Who, me?? I love being constantly criticized. Rouge: Of course, because that way, you learn to do things right! [She hugs him while still making that excited high-pitch noise, and Knuckles’ eye twitches. One day later, Knuckles is at GUN. He casually approaches Shadow’s cubicle.] Knuckles: Heeeey, if it isn’t my cool bro-in-law! Shadow [without looking away from the monitor]: Rouge is driving you insane, huh? Knuckles: I’m spiraling, Shadow. You need to bring her back here. Abraham [bursts out of his office]: What??? Not a chance, echidna! Rouge might be on vacation, but the ones actually getting to rest are us! I’m even thinking about paying her to stay home and only come in when we need something stolen. Credit where it’s due, that woman is a beast at robbing. Knuckles: Robb-- Shit! I left her alone with the Master Emerald! [runs off] Abraham: I used to run like that. Yet another reason this is fantastic. I leave a yogurt in the fridge, and when I come back, it’s still there. I didn’t even know you could be happy at work. And that’s with you still here. Shadow: The feeling is mutual.

[slozhnos]

i think the most heartbreaking moment in childish things is winn and kara’s conversation at the docks bc like “no, you don’t really need me.” bit hurts me so much every time

[tariah23]

Noooo…… first it’s Yuuta and Shoko, now they’re yo-yoing back around to Megumi.

[phantom-dc]

Bruce sighed.

He never thought he would die like this. When he started out as Batman he was certain he would meet his end fighting the criminal underworld of Gotham. When he got older and life got stranger, he believed he would die fighting off a threat like Joker or Deathstroke, maybe even Darkseid. Being used as a human sacrifice to the King of the Infinite Realms was not on that list, let alone being a willing sacrifice.

Unfortunately, it had been necessary. An asteroid was on collision course with Earth. The asteroid had a colony of sapient alien life on it, so destroying it was not an option. As the League grew desperate, Constantine revealed a similar incident had happened a few years ago. The King of the Infinite Realms had, along with his subjects, turned the Earth intangible and both the Earth and the Asteroid had survived. Constantine isn’t sure why or how, but there are signs an extremely powerful ghost had merged realities and in the process erased the memories of this event from the entire population of Earth! The only reason Constantine knows about it is because a Demon with time-based powers told him during one of their poker games. Summoning this King was risky, as they had no idea what the King would want in return, but this entity seemed like their best bet. Now Bruce thinks they had been wrong.

Superman pulled Bruce out of his thoughts:

“Bruce, are you sure you want to go through with this? If we work together, we might be able to-”

Bruce cut him off:

“No, Clark. You heard Constantine. If we do not hold up our end of the deal, the Ghost King could simply make his ally, this “Clockwork”, reverse time to before the planet was saved. The Earth and the asteroid will still be destroyed, killing everyone on both. This is the only way.”

Clark looked dejected. He knew his friend was right. The King had turned the entire Earth intangible with one hand! He knew the League couldn’t defeat this foe, not without help. Any being that could help them would demand even more bloodshed in exchange, though. One human life in exchange of saving the entire planet had been a steal, according to the Justice League Dark. Clark looked at Bruce:

“Are you going to put on your cowl? This will be the only chance you have to tell the other Leaguers who you are.”

Bruce looked at his cowl. He had taken of his suit, so that his family had something to bury. But to reveal his identity to anyone other than Clark....

“I will keep it on. Even if I die here, I cannot risk anyone finding out my identity and using it to get to my family. I hope the League understands.”

Bruce is pulled into a hug. As Clark holds him as close as he can without breaking bones Bruce cannot help being filled with regret. He wanted more time with his family and, dare he say, friends. This was not how things were supposed to go. Clark pulls away and seems to want to say something:

“Bruce, I just want you to know, I-”

“WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON, B?”

Suddenly Nightwing enters the room, along with the entire Bat-family. Even Alfred and Oracle, donning masks, are there. They looked confused and scared, which made sense. They had all been summoned to the Watchtower, and when they had seen non-field members there as well they knew something was very wrong. Robin stepped forward, demanding an explanation:

“Father, what is happening? Why did you ask for us here? Explain yourself this instant!”

Red Robin looked ready to fight, staff in hand and in a low stance:

Where is the danger? Who is the enemy? Do you have intel for us? ARE YOU BEING MIND CONTROLLED?

Spoiler yanked at Red Robin’s cowl, pulling him out of his paranoid spiral:

“Easy, Captain Paranoid! Let him speak!”

Red Hood was clearly agitated. It was never a good sign if he was asked to the Watchtower:

“The fuck is going on, old man? Are you dying or something? That’s my stick, not yours!”

Bruce steeled his nerves. This was not going to be an easy conversation. How does one tell their family they are going to die and there is nothing to be done about it? Things had been going well for them, too. Dick and he hadn’t fought as often anymore, Jason had not called him names when he patrolled Crime ally last week, Tim hadn’t done anything that could be considered villainous (that he knew of) and Damian had not stabbed any goons for a month. Truly things had been good. Bruce knew this would mess it all up. He feared Jason would start killing again, or Damian would take out his grief on the criminals or Tim would… Well he had no idea. Last time Bruce disappeared Tim blew up so many LoA bases (he still wasn’t sure whether there had been people inside or not), so it was anyone’s gue-

“Sir, could you please elaborate on why we are here? I’m assuming it has something to do with the reason for this dreadful cold, and perhaps your lack of a shirt?”

Bruce sighed. Alfred always knew how to get through to him. With a heavy heart he told them everything. He would sacrifice himself for the survival of both planets. There was nothing to be done about that, and he asked them to please accept his decision. Naturally everyone was outraged. Amidst the chaos, Orphan asked a question:

“Why you?”

Bruce explained that, according to Constantine, the King had asked for a single sacrifice in return: “To feast on a non-magic, non-meta mortal human that will not resist being consumed.” It had pointed specifically at Batman, making sure they all knew which one it wanted. There had been no time to negotiate the prize, so he had accepted. After that it had left immediately for Earth, turning it intangible so the asteroid flew through harmlessly and fulfilling its end of the deal. Orphan seemed to think for a bit, before speaking up again:

“We’ll miss you.”

She hugged Batman. The others, realizing there was nothing they could do, at least not before facing the King, joined in as well. Bruce told them how proud he was of everyone. That they were strong and brilliant, and to please protect each other and Gotham in his stead. He thanked Alfred and Oracle for their help over the years and to please continue to support the others with the same strength they used to help him. After a moment they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Wonder Woman had entered the room. With a saddened expression, and a dented doorhandle that showed her tension, she had come to collect her friend.:

“Batman. It’s time.”

Bruce nodded at her. Thanking her, he tried to leave with her, but was stopped by Alfred. After a quick hug, Alfed offered Bruce a cookie from the plate he had brought along:

“Every man deserves a final meal. I’m sorry this was all I have to offer.”

Taking a grateful bite, Bruce allowed himself to indulge in the taste of home.

“Thank you, Alfred. This means more to me then you realize.”

Steeling himself once more, Batman and the others followed Wonder Woman to the main room. It was the largest room in the Watchtower, several stories high with observation platforms, security screens showing cities all over the planet and a teleportation platform. As they approached the room, Batman was surprised by the cold that radiated form the entrance. Opening the door the source of all the cold and grief became visible to the group. Signal had to shield his eyes:

“What the hell!?!”

There it was, the High Ghost King of the Infinite Realms. A giant being, which had been so large they had to move to the observation platform to speak with it. Even then it towered over the heroes. It’s skin impossibly dark, with constellations spotting its tail & torso. The stars converging on its lower arms, making it look like it was wearing glowing white gloves, the same as a strange symbol on his chest that seemed important. The stars on its neck blending seamlessly with its hair, yet leaving its head completely dark aside from a few little spots on its face. The only facial feature they could make out where 2 Lazarus green eyes, focused on the new arrivals. On its hand, a ring with a skull on it that had freaked out the Lanterns. On its head a dark crown covered in patches of frost, and its own Aurora Borealis spreading from it. The room had already been partially covered in frost simply from the King’s aura. Power emanated from it, which had caused several members that had been dead and revived before to kneel on reflex, which was frightening even if they managed to get up on their own again.

Martian Manhunter had tried to peek in the Kings mind, hoping to find a way to convince the King to spare Batman, but he had been unsuccessful. As soon as he tried his knees buckled, and he had been pushed out. Ever since the Ghost King had radiated frustration. Now, as Batman entered wearing only his cowl and some spare pants, that frustration seemed to spike dangerously. Was the King upset he had been left to wait for his offer?

"What the fuck is this? I didn’t ask for a striptease, especially from some old Frootloop!”

“Constantine, what’s wrong? What is it saying?”

Batman was worried. He had not expected more anger from the being when presented with the offering. Looking at Constantine, he saw the magician frantically looking through the pages of his books, desperately looking for a translation.

“Hang on, mate. I’m doing my best here! Ehrm… no, that’s not right… Something about mating? Maybe he likes you, Bats. He also said something about “the absence of clothing” so…

Suddenly he is cut off by a strange sound coming from the Ghost King. It makes a strange motion with its body and its giant maw opens, as more of those sounds escape. It reminds Robin of Alfred the Cat when he has a hairball. However, there is more sound in the Watchtower now. The Red Hood is clutching his stomach as he is doubling down in laughter.

“HAHAHAHA!!! WHAT? HOW THE FUCK DID YOU TRANSLATE THAT BADLY? HOLY SHIT!”

The Ghost King stops making the noises, and it’s eyes snap to Red Hood. It moves it’s head closer to him, casually passing it through the barrier Constantine had put up. Constantine’s swears in surprise, but the King seems not to care as it “speaks” to Red Hood:

"Oh, thank the Acients! Someone who understands Ghost Speak! Can you PLEASE help me and translate for us? This trench coat guy is terrible, and somehow twists everything I say in the worst way!"

Red Hood relaxed, looking up at the Ghost King’s giant head.:

“Sure man, no problem. I’m pretty sure he is using like 3 different dictionaries to get this far. I saw him first translate Ghost to Pixie, Pixie to Gnome and Gnome to Demon before telling us in English! So, what’s up?”

Batman was stunned. The Ghost King actually face palmed. What the heck was going on?

"Of course he is. That explains why it sounds like he is putting this through Google Translate 4 times! These guys summoned me to save the Earth, which, totally cool. Happy to help! But a summons makes it official, which means I need to get an offering. I can’t leave without it or I face a mountain of paperwork from some stupid bureaucratic eyeballs for not following proper procedure. But I can always ask something simple and get it over with. No biggie, right? WRONG.”

Red Hood actually grabs a chair to sit on. Not even in a somewhat respectful way, he is sitting on it backwards, casually leaning on it.

“Oh, boy. How badly did they fuck up? Gotta be big since Batman over there is ready to be eaten?”

The King glares at Constantine, who puts up his bravest “time to out-bollock a Eldritch Demon” face. The King is not impressed:

"Man, I asked, and I quote: “I’d like to eat a regular human meal that doesn’t fight back, like that guy would eat!” I wanted it to be clear I didn’t want blood, or corpses or virgins or any of the other horrible things stupid cults try to give me! I just wanted a burger or something! But then Mr. triple dictionary over there somehow turns that into: ‘’I wish to feast on a non-magic, non-meta mortal human that will not resist being consumed, and it must be that one.” I’ll admit I was pointing at one of the non-supers, but that didn’t mean I wanted to eat him! I just wanted to make sure it was normal food, something that doesn’t fight back!”

Red Hood looked confused, asking if the King’s food usually fights back. The King rolls it’s eyes:

"In life, I lived with mad scientist parents who treated lab safety as a suggestion at best and a chore for teens at worst. Put enough samples in the fridge and you get a whole new type of Thanksgiving trauma. Dang, I’m getting even more hungry. I’d love some turkey right now. Could you get them to bring me some food? That way I can have my sacrifice and leave…”

Red Hood stands up. He asks if the King can wait a few more minutes, claiming that after all that frustration he deserved something better. Getting a nod from the Ghost King, the Red Hood suddenly shouted over the platform railing towards the waiting Leaguers:

“FLASH! Get your squad up here, and bring pen & paper! I got a job for y’all!”

Zooming up every member of the Flash family gets a list of things to get and a warning not to tell the Bats what’s on it, or Red Hood will shoot them in the knees. Looking at the lists, they quickly caught on what was going on and promised they wouldn’t tell. This was way too funny! Red Hood does a fake bow to the King, clearly amusing himself.

“Don’t worry, your Hungry-ness! Your sacrifice is being prepared! Anything else we can assist you with?”

The Ghost King seems to tilt its head in amusement. Whatever Hood was doing, it was working, which honestly was the only reason nobody had tackled him to the floor.

"Actually, if you could get that Frootloop to put on a shirt that would be great. He is shivering and honestly, I’m worried he’s going to poke someone’s eye out with a nipple. Why is he shirtless anyway? Please tell me he wasn’t actually trying to seduce me or something, he’s old enough to be my dad! Gross!”

This caused Red Hood to again double over in laughter. Everyone was confused, what could possibly be so funny in this situation? Constantine had frantically tried translating during their conversation, but it had gone too fast for him. He gave up when the King mentioned eyeballs and seduction, accepting he wouldn’t get anywhere like this. Batman however couldn’t resist his need to know everything anymore.

“Hood, report! How are you communicating with the entity?”

Red Hood turns to Batman, walks past him and towards Alfred, grabbing one of the cookies he had brought with him. As he walks back and hands it to the Ghost King, he starts to explain:

“Honestly, not sure. It feels instinctive, like a second mother-tongue. Pretty sure it’s some sort of “dead-guy-language” you learn when you die. Speaking off: Turns out Constantine is a VERY unreliable translator. Spooky here is actually pretty chill! He used you as an example to make sure we knew what he wanted, not to demand you as a sacrifice. He is in fact pretty ticked that you guys tried to feed B to him. Speaking of: Batman? Put a shirt on, for fucks sake. You look like you’re going to freeze your tits off.”

This earned a round of giggles from Green Lantern & Green Arrow. Now that the tension had left the room, other Leaguers also smiled in relief. Besides, it’s always fun to see Batman being the butt of a joke. Sure enough, Batman let out a frustrated sound, that got the rest of the Bats to join in on the fun. They understood that their dad in fact felt rather silly right now, which meant that they had more to gossip about soon. Constantine now was wondering what Hood was up to:

“Mate, I did my best! Sorry for not being fluent in every language in existence. What the hell did you send the Flash to get? The bloke is a scientist and denies magic when it’s right in front of ‘im! What could they possibly get that I couldn’t-”

At that moment, the Flashes zoom out of the Zeta tubes and zoom across the observation deck. After a few moments of red and yellow blurs, the deck is covered with tables filled front to back with food! Picking up a receipt that fell to the floor, Batman realizes this is take-out from all over the world. Seeing a puddle of Lazarus water grow on the floor, he looks up. The Ghost King is actually drooling! Red Hood steps aside and gestures to the feast:

“Welp! There is your sacrifice! One. And I also quote: “regular human meal that doesn’t fight back, like “that guy” would eat!” Well, more of a feast then a meal, but I’m sure a big guy like you can finish it, and you can always take home the rest I guess. Bon Appetit!”

Opening his giant maw, the Ghost King digs in. Well, as much as he can. He actually looks kind of silly eating everything with a tiny fork. Still, judging from the purring sound emanating through the Watchtower it’s to the Kings liking.

"DUDE, THIS IS SO GOOD? I need to know these restaurants! You want a bite for helping me out? You saved me SOOO much annoying paperwork, I was about to bail!”

Picking up a plate of karaage, Red Hood took of his helmet revealing a second mask underneath and dug in as well:

“Don’t mind if I do, this smells fantastic! Oh shit, you should try this stuff, it’s great!”

Red Hood being allowed to partake in the offering so casually caused Constantine to do a double take. He realizes he seriously misjudged this entity. Still, that didn’t explain the horrific stories about him. He would need to do some digging into that, maybe with Hood as a translator. For now he takes a swig of his drink. The world was saved, no one died or lost their Soul and he didn’t make any new enemies he thinks. Plus, Batman felt like an idiot, and that always made the Brit smile.

All in all a good day!

[waitimcomingtoo]

I’ll Cry If I Want To

Pairing: enemies to lovers!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you get stood up on your birthday and Peter attempts to cheer you up despite your feud

Masterlist

Peter walked into the kitchen in the tower and was immediately greeted by a confetti popper exploding in his face followed by a tender kiss on the forehead from Tony.

“Oh, my. Good morning to me.” Peter smiled at the greeting.

“Damn it, Parker.” Tony groaned. “I thought you were my little girl.”

“Don’t feel bad, daddy. A lot of people confuse Peter for a little girl.” You said as you walked into the kitchen behind Peter. The two of you made eye contact and you gave him an innocent smile while he rolled his eyes at you.

“Ha ha.“ He said sarcastically and then hissed at you like a cat. You gave him a look as you walked over to your dad.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Tony said and pulled you into a long hug.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled and hugged him back.

“Thank you, daddy.” Peter said in a high pitched voice to mock you. You and Tony looked at him and he quickly cleared his throat.

“Sorry. What I meant to say was, happy birthday. I didn’t know that was today. I mean, I’d been wondering why you looked so old but I assumed it was from your lack of sunscreen use.”

“Nice try. I wear sunscreen everyday.” You replied.

“Really?” He gasped. “Might want to up that SPF a few. You look like a crumbled piece of paper and not in a fun Taylor Swift way.”

“Don’t talk to me about skincare, Rudolf.” You snapped and tapped your nose twice to point out the zit on the tip of Peter nose. He covered it with his hand and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Children, please. No fighting. It stops my moisturizer from sinking in.” Tony sighed and rubbed circles into his skin.

“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to make sure Peter knew about the giant pimple on his nose in case he was going to see anyone today.” You said as you smiled sweetly at Peter. He discreetly flipped you off by scratching his cheek with his middle finger.

“Any plans for the night, jelly bean?” Tony asked you.

“Nothing crazy. My friends are coming over later for a sleepover.”

“Oh God. Is this gonna be one of those crazy parties where you all get drunk and things get out of hand and you accidentally kill someone and have to dispose of the body together while hijixs ensues?” Peter. whined.

“No, because this isn’t one of the pornos you watch.” You scoffed.

“Pfft. That is not what I watch.” He insisted. “Where would I even find something like that? What would I even type? I’m open to suggestions.”

“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re such a weirdo. And don’t be hanging around when my friends are here. I already told them you’re a pervert and on the FBI watch list so you don’t have a chance with any of them.”

“I don’t want to date your freakbob friends anyway.” He scoffed. “And to keep it down tonight, will you? I already wake up the birds chirping every morning. I don’t want to hear you birds all night too.”

“I actually came up with a solution for that. What if you killed yourself?” You asked through a smile.

“That’s a great idea. I might give that a whirl today if I’m not busy.” He replied and matched your smile.

“You? Busy?” You laughed. “Please. Busy doing what?”

“Peter and I are gonna be in the lab doing boring stuff with the suits. Adjustments, additions, and what have you.” Tony answered you.

“Oh. Okay. Do you need any help?” You asked.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that on your birthday, baby girl. Peters got it.” Tony replied, making your smile falter a little.

“Yeah. I’ve got it.” Peter boasted and gave you a smug look. You glared at him for a moment before looking back at your dad.

“I’ll catch you later for some cake, okay honey bun?” Tony told you before kissing your forehead.

“Okay. Bye. Have fun.” You smiled sadly as he left the room.

“You look greasy, by the way.” Peter said once you were alone.

“Like I care what you think. Even your hairline won’t stay with you.” You scoffed and nodded towards his forehead.

“It’s not actually receding, is it?” He asked and touched his hair.

“Maybe your forehead is just getting bigger.” You shrugged and popped a grape in your mouth from the bowl on the table.

“Bite me.” He replied and stopped touching his hair.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You chuckled. “Isn’t that how you got your powers, spider boy?”

“Yup. What do you think would happen if you bite me? Would I be able to a do anything a total bitch can?” He wondered, making you pelt a grape at him. He caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.

“Watch your mouth before I bring out the peppermint essential oils again.” You warned him.

“You wouldn’t.” He said quietly.

“Try me.” You shrugged. You stared at each other across the kitchen for a moment before Peter gave up.

“You win. Here’s your card. Happy birthday, gaylord.” He said as he handed you a homemade birthday card from his jeans pocket before quickly running out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled once he was gone and read the card. As annoying as you normally found him, you appreciated that he remembered your birthday. Inside the card was a crude drawing of the two of you fighting next to a drawing of a gift card to Planet Fitness.

Peter strolled into your bedroom around 10 pm when he had grown curious as to why your friends weren’t there yet. It was getting kind of late and you had listed many activities that you had planned to do while Peter begrudgingly listened to you talk earlier in the day. You were still in your room by yourself so he went in and knocked on your door to see what was happening.

“Hey dingus. When are your dumb friends getting here? I need to know when I should jam my ears with scissors.” Peter said as he leaned against your doorway. You were sitting on your bed with your knees draw to your chest and your chin resting on top of them as you stared out the window.

“Do that anyway.” You mumbled and didn’t move from your position.

“I’m going to. I can’t listen to you all yap about when Reputation TV is coming all night. And your friend Stacy’s theories are always way off.” He continued. You still didn’t turn to look at him and his smirk dropped when he heard a sniffle. He frowned and took a step into your room.

“Hello? I knew you were dumb but did you forget how to turn your neck or something?” He said to try to make you laugh. You stayed still and he craned his neck to try to see your face.

“Seriously though, when are they coming?”

“They’re not coming.” You said finally in a horse voice.

“Why? What happened? Did they finally realize you’re an annoying brat whose only redeeming quality is access to daddy’s credit card?” Peter teased in another attempt to make you laugh.

“Something like that.” You mumbled. Peter frowned and finally realized that something was actually wrong. He sat down on your bed and reached his hand out.

“Whats going on? Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Just go away.” You said sadly and wiped tears from your face. Peter shot a web at a tissue box on your dresser and pulled it over.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” He said and handed you a tissue. You gave him a skeptical look and he held up one hand in defense while waving the tissue in the other like a white flag. You sighed and took the tissue before wiping your eyes.

“They found out it wasn’t a yacht party or at some fancy restaurant or some elitist club in Tribeca so they all cancelled.“ You said as you nervously ripped the tissue up in your hands.

“They cancelled? Why?”

“Because no one wants to come to my party. They want to come to a Stark Industries party with puppies in the gift bags and acrobats suspended from the ceiling and Avengers walking around like party clowns. Just hanging out with me wasn’t cool enough so they all bailed.” You sniffled and turned back to look out the window. Peter raised his hand to place it on your shoulder but then drew it back. He didn’t know if he was who you’d want to comfort you and he didn’t want to push it.

“I’m sorry.” He said instead.

“Like you care.” You laughed sadly and held your knees tighter to your chest.

“I do care.” He insisted. “And I’m very sorry this happened to you tonight.”

“No you’re not.” You scoffed. “You’re probably thrilled to see me like this. This is probably the greatest moment of your dumb life.”

“It’s not.” He said quietly. You finally whipped around to look at Peter and he saw the pain in your red eyes.

“It’s not? Look at me, Peter. I’m pathetic. I’m alone on my birthday because I wasn’t good enough for anyone to hang out with.” You exclaimed. Peter went quiet as you slowly caught your breath. You teased each other all the time but you’d never actually yelled at him before. You wiped your eyes with the tissue before staring at your hands.

“You were right.” You said quietly. “I am just a spoiled brat who people only like because of my connections. And I’m sure you’re anxiously waiting for me to shut up so you can say “I told you so” and prove to me once again that I’m always wrong.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a minute without looking at each other. Peter felt guilty that you were expecting him to kick you while you were down. You were feeling your own guilt for snapping at him when he was trying to be nice.

“I’m not gonna say that.” He said after a beat.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go away.” You said miserably and turned back to the window. Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he couldn’t find the words. He patted your shoulder twice before getting up and leaving your room. You turned to look at the door once he was gone and felt yourself missing his presence. You turned back to the window and stared out at the night sky through your teary eyes and let time pass.

After a while, you started to smell something. You sniffed the air until you recognized it as the scent of a something burning. Out of sheer curiosity, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and padded into the kitchen. You found Peter in the kitchen with a lace trimmed pink apron tied around his waist and flour smeared on his cheek. You smiled in surprise and leaned against the wall to watch him for a minute. He was humming to himself a song you didn’t recognize while scrapping a burnt black lump of something into the trash can. When he finally turned around, he jumped when he saw you.

“Jesus. You scared me. But I guess I should’ve known the smell of something baking would have your big back running to the kitchen like I hit the bat signal.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled. “What are you doing in here?”

“Well, your parents went to a movie since they thought your friends would be here. That means no ones home.” Peter began.

“And?” You asked.

“And so I thought we could fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine and making sweet love to you on the kitchen counter.” He smiled suavely and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?” Your jaw dropped as he drummed his fingertips on the counter.

“I’m joking. I’m clearly baking a bake. Or, I tried. I guess 500 degrees was too hot.” He said and looked at the burnt cake in the trash.

“Yeah, that’s a few hundred above what it should be. But why are you baking? We have a chef for that.”

“Because it’s your birthday you miserable bitch. And everyone deserves a cake baked with love. Now do you prefer chocolate or vanilla frosting on your burnt cake?” He asked and held up two cans of frosting. You looked between the two before your eyes settled on him. You hugged your blanket tighter around yourself and shook your head.

“I don’t want your pity.” You said quietly.

“You don’t have it so shut up and grab a spatula before I rescind your choice in the matter and funfetti the fuck out of this cake.” He replied and held out a spatula. You stared at it and felt compelled to take it and join him, but you were still throwing yourself a pity party.

“No.”

“No? Look, I’m trying to cheer your dumb ass up so can you please work with me here?” Peter sighed and looked at you. You stared at him for a while before cracking the slightest smile. He noticed the smile and knew he had succeeded in his plan to cheer you up.

“Fine. But I’m not eating that. That’s what Santa puts in the bad kids stockings. We’ll make a new one. But I’m not touching raw eggs.” You told him and grabbed your dad’s matching pink apron from the drawer.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Princess.” Peter mumbled under his breath. You glared at him through your lashes as you threw some flour and sugar into a bowl. Peter went to put the butter in but you pushed his hand away.

“It can’t be cold butter or it won’t mix properly. It has to be room temperature.” You explained as you filled a measuring cup with water.

“Oh. Let’s pop it in the microwave then.”

“We can’t do that either. Then the hot butter will scramble the eggs. Do you want little egg bits in your cake?” You asked him as you microwaved the cup of water for a minute.

“Maybe just a little.” Peter replied as he watched you put the butter into a small bowl and then place the bowl on top of the microwaved water.

“There. This will soften the butter without making it hot enough to scramble the eggs.” You explained. He looked between your little invention and you for a minute before smiling.

“Wow. That was really smart.” He said genuinely. “Women really do belong in the kitchen.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes as you set the temperature to the correct heat on the oven. Peter couldn’t help but watch you over his shoulder as you combined the rest of the dry ingredients and expertly cracked an egg in one hand. He rarely got to see you like this, no makeup and in lounge clothes. And he definitely never saw you upset before. He was used to the perfectly groomed and standoffish version of yourself so this change of pace brought him unexpected joy.

“Move over. That’s not how you mix batter. You need to fold it.” You told him and reminded him of the you he knew. You bumped him with your hip and put your hands over his to help him fold the batter.

“Like laundry?” He asked as his cheeks heated up.

“Like you know what laundry is, Pigpen. And no. A different folding. Like this.” You said and helped him mix the batter until it was the desired consistency.

“Oh wow. That worked really well. I usually just go sicko mode until it turns into goop.” He confessed.

“And how does that work out for you?” You asked him.

“Look in the trash and you’ll find out.” Peter replied and eyed the burnt cake in the garbage can. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and kept helping him fold the batter. Everytime he tried to stir the batter, you gently corrected his hands to fold it instead.

“Why don’t you just do it?” He asked when he started getting frustrated with himself.

“Because you won’t learn if I do it.” You replied in a softer tone. Peter went quiet since you were being unexpectedly nice to him. You let the batter sit for minute once you were satisfied and then poured in into a cake pan.

“There. Thats gonna take about 30 minutes to bake and then it needs to cool before we frost it.” You told him as you shut the oven door.

“Oh, so we have 30 minutes? Then circling back to that making love on the counter idea-“

“Shut it.” You warned him. Peter pretended to zipper his lips and throw away the key. You cracked a smile before starting to clean up the kitchen. Peter wordlessly helped you tidy up and you exchanged a soft smile with each other in the silence of the kitchen.

“What was your worst birthday?” You asked after a long beat of silence.

“Are you talking to me?” Peter asked after looking around.

“Peter, we’re the only ones in the room.”

“Sorry. It’s not like you’ve ever asked me a personal question before. It’s usually “are you stupid?” or “can you go away?” or “do you need a tampon cry baby?” He recalled, making you feel bad for always being so mean to him.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” You said quietly. “I sound a lot meaner than I thought I was.”

“I’m mean too.” Peter shrugged.

“You tease me.” You shook your head. “I’m just cruel.”

“I think we are an equal amount of mean to each other. Don’t let it keep you up at night. I’m sure your chronic yeast infections do that enough.” Peter tried to lighten the mood, but you didn’t crack a smile. You seemed faraway in thought and he was curious as to why.

“Do you think I’m hard to be around?” You asked after a minute. Peter was about to crack another joke until he saw the look on your face. He could tell you needed a friend right now and was filled with determination to be one.

“No. I think those girls you called your “friends” are hard to be around.” He said seriously. “I’ve seen you with them. They’re the mean ones. Them bailing tonight has nothing to do with you. They’re a bunch of shallow jerks who only care about the material things in life. They don’t care about having deep connections with people. They only care about deep pockets on people. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve ditched you. And I know you feel alone even when they are here because you’re never fully included. You think no one notices because you tell stories about your charming adventures together but I see it in your eyes. They make you feel like an afterthought. You act tough and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know that it does. You shouldn’t hang out with them anymore.”

“Then who am I going to hang out with?” You shrugged sadly. “Without them, I don’t have any friends.”

“Sitting alone is better than sitting at a table where you’re the topic of conversation when you get up.” Peter said simply. You stared at him for a moment before your eyes fell to the floor.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” You said quietly. Peter nodded his head in understanding and let a silence fall between the two of for a while. He was going to say that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him, but he didn’t know if you wanted to hear that.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked.

“No.” You said immediately. You made eye contact and you let out a sigh.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Why don’t you like me?” He asked without looking into our eyes. You saw that coming and stared at him to try and get a sense of what was going on in his head. He slowly looked back up at you and gave you a weak smile.

“Do you remember that time the power went out in the city due to that Max guy or whatever and we all lit candles and hung out in the tower?”

“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You answered my question with another question. That can’t be good.”

“Shut up. Do you remember or not?” You asked and gently kicked his foot with your foot.

“I remember that.” He told you and held your gaze.

“You were new around here. You had just gotten your powers that year so I didn’t really know you yet. I had gone to look for more candles and found you crying on the floor of the linen closet.

“I remember that.” He nodded. “It was all so overwhelming to be here with the whole team. I had never felt so small.”

“I know. I told you I felt like that too sometimes. And then we stayed up for hours talking about every stupid thing we ever worried about and gave each other advice. I think at one point I gave you advice on how much conditioner to use.” You said as you replayed the night in your memory. You had a look on your face that Peter had never seen on you before. It was natural and relaxed and playful, all things he knew to be the opposite of you. It was so rare that the two of you were getting along and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin in.

“A dime sized amount and not on the roots. I still use that advice.” He chuckled. “You were so nice to me that night. You came in and pretended I wasn’t crying so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed. You just sat down with me and started talking ad if we’d always been friends. You quieted all my fears that night. I was initially so embarrassed about it but then I felt a lot better knowing someone had my back no matter how bad I messed up.”

“I always had your back.” You insisted. “Even when I was mean to you. If you were in trouble with my dad, I was always here talking him down and trying to get him to see your side. He sees you through the lense of his child that he doesn’t want hurt but I’ve always seen you as a hero who wants to help. I even got him to give you the suit back when you were 15. And it was my idea to put the warmers in because you told me you’re always cold.”

“Really? You were rooting for me this whole time?” He cracked a smile in surprise.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Always.”

“Then how come you act like…” Peter trailed off in fear of insulting you.

“Like what?” You asked, sounding like you already knew what was coming.

“Like you hate me.” He admitted. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and shook your head.

“I don’t hate you.” You said sheepishly.

“You don’t?” He asked in genuine surprise. You looked at him and he could see the guilt in your eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“No. I don’t. I never did.”

“Then how come we don’t get along anymore?” He asked. He had only gone along with all the teasing since you began it, but he had always wondered why it started.

“One of the things we had talked about that night was how my one regret about being homeschooled was never getting to experience a prom. I told you had dreamed of it since I was a little girl and it broke my heart to know I’d never have one. So then you said…” You trailed off, thinking he’d remember what he told you. His face showed no sign of remembering it but he racked his brain anyway.

“I said what?” He asked, breaking your heart just a little more.

“You promised to take me. To yours.” You told him. You and Peter stood in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Your sadness immediately hardened into anger at the sound of him laughing at you.

“Wait, you’ve been pissy towards me for the last few years because I broke a promise I made at 15 years old and didn’t take you to a stupid school dance?” Peter asked through a laugh. You glared at him for his reaction and he immediately stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing too.

“Oh. We’re not laughing?” He asked.

“Why is that funny to you?” You snapped. Peter saw the moment slipping away from him and started to panic.

“Well I was- I was a kid.” He said simply. “I had a huge crush on this girl Liz and we were finally becoming friends so I asked her and she said yes. That was years after I promised you that. I’m sorry but I didn’t remember.”

Peter thought you were going to yell at him and hurl a parade of insults his way, but you just nodded your head and looked down at the ground.

“You’re right. We were just kids. Forget I said anything.” You mumbled and started walking towards the door to leave. Peter knew he had messed up big time and possibly just killed any and all chances of the two of you becoming friends.

“Wait.” He said desperately just as the kitchen timer went off. You stopped walking and watched him haphazardly take the cake out of the oven and throw it in the stove top as he blew on it.

“You should stay. We have to frost it.” He said with a weak smile and an even weaker attempt for you for stay.

“You can’t frost it while it’s hot. It’ll slip right off.” You said without looking at him.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Well then do you want to talk some more or-“

“I have to go.” You cut him off and swiftly left the kitchen.

You went back to your room to resume the pouting you had started earlier. You felt guilty about walking out on Peter but it had hurt you to know that a promise that had meant a lot to you didn’t even stay in his memory. You stared out the window and sulked as you thought yourself into a deep rut. It didn’t take long for Peter to start making noise in the kitchen, interrupting your thought spiral. You heard things falling out of cabinets followed by Peter swearing. He bumbled around for a while and slowly drove you crazy with all the noise he was making until you couldn’t take it anymore. Just when you were about to text him and tell him the knock it off, you heard the dulcet sounds of “The Dancing Queen” coming from downstairs. You groaned in frustration and got out of bed to go downstairs and see what was happening.

When you got to the living room, Peter was standing there in one of your dad’s suits that hugged him a little too tightly around his muscles. The room looked like it had been decorated by a child with poorly hung streamers, ripped up construction paper to act as confetti, and bunches of webs that Peter had tried to shape into stars and moons. He had dimmed the lights and put a single bowl of chips on the counter, which he proudly stood beside.

“What the hell is this?” You asked him.

“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked with a huge smile.

“No.” You said immediately. “Please kill yourself.”

“I will.” He promised. “After one dance.”

“I’m not dancing with you. I’m not doing any of this.” You told him and turned to leave. You heard a “pst” right before feeling a web hit your back. Before you knew it, Peter tugged on the web and sent you stumbling back into Peter’s arms. He caught you with ease and winked when you landed in his arms. You rolled your eyes at him but felt a smile tugged at your lips.

“Please? Just one dance? Then I’ll let you go and hate me for the rest of your life.” He pleaded as he stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding before you knew what you were agreeing to. He smiled in excitement and twirled you around before slowly swaying to the beat. You begrudgingly sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck while his stayed in a respectable place on your hips. You could feel his eyes on you but you kept yours on the ceiling.

“You can look at me, you know.” He teased, making you begrudgingly look him in the eyes.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw a few poorly drawn flowers webbed to a rubber band.

“Your corsage, my lady.” He said as he slipped it onto your wrist.

“This is so stupid.” You laughed but secretly loved the thought he put into everything.

“It’s about to get even more stupid. Wait here.” He asked and quickly ran into the kitchen. He returned with one of Morgan’s plastic tiaras with a big fake gem in the center.

“Every prom needs its queen.” He said as he placed the crown on your head. You made eye contact as he stepped forward to adjust it and you felt your breath catch in your throat from how close he was.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.

“Yes I did. I owed you a prom experience. I’m sorry I didn’t take you the first time. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. You just caught me off guard. I have spent many nights thinking of all the things I could have done to make you hate me. I genuinely forgot about that promise. I had no idea this entire time that you hated me because of prom.” He said as the two of you started swaying to the music again. You felt a feeling rise up in your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt for Peter in many years.

“It wasn’t just the prom.” You admitted before you could think about it.

“It wasn’t? What else did I do? Did I hotbox the elevator with you in it or something?” He asked. “I did that to Wanda once and now she’ll show up in my dreams sometimes and make me pee the bed.”

“That’s disgusting.” You said flatly. “But no. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what?” He wondered.

“It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh again.”

“No I won’t.” He assured you. “Probably. I’ll definitely try really hard not to.

“Come on. Please tell me.” He pleaded and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “You have to tell me now or I’ll become so annoying so quickly. I’ll be worse than those people who try to describe SNL skits to you and keep explaining even when it’s clearly only funny if you’re watching it.”

“I can’t tell you. It’s dumb anyway. Forget I said anything.” You said and hoped he’d drop it.

“It can’t be that dumb if it stood between us all these years. What, did you have a crush on me or something?” He laughed through his question. You went quiet and Peters eyes went wide.

“Oh shit. Did you have a crush on me?” He asked in a soft voice. You looked down at the ground to avoid having to look him in the eyes now that you were caught.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “You were my age and had these cool powers and muscles and unexpected sense of humor. I was homeschooled and had swiped to the end of Tinder. You were my only option.”

“Oh. I see. So you only liked me because I was the only choice?” He said through a laugh but it hurt him. You could sense in his voice that you had just hurt his feelings and for once, that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I mean, not the only choice.” You added. “Cap used to hang around a lot more and he’s not the worst looking. But he’s like 500 so I never really had a chance.”

“Why me, then?” He wondered. You finally looked in to his eyes and shrugged a little.

“Because you were kind.” You admitted. “You didn’t need to take on as much as what you did at such a young age but you refused to do the easy stuff. You used to drive my dad crazy with how for you begged for assignments. You were so determined to get out there and save people, it was almost obnoxious. You were never content getting back stolen bikes. You always wanted to protect people from the big things. Even when you were just a kid. I liked that about you. I still do.”

“Still?” He gulped. “Even now?”

Before you could respond, the slow music that was playing ended and “Munch” started to blast from Peter phone. He scrambled to change the song but the moment had already been ruined.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know who put that on my playlist.” He quickly lied.

“It was you.”

“It was me, yeah.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. You stopped dancing and slowly withdrew your arms from him, making his heart sink.

“This was really sweet. Thank you, Peter.” You said genuinely. “I should probably get to bed now. I just want this day to end.”

“But we haven’t frosted the cake yet. It’s still your birthday. You can’t go to bed without any cake.” He said in a desperate attempt to get you to stay.

“I don’t know. It’s late.”

“Come on. It’ll be fast. That’s one of my powers. Spider can frost cake really fast and so can I.” He said and rushed over to the cake. He held it up and gave you a lopsided smile, convincing you to stay.

“Fine. Let’s make it fast.” You agreed and walked over to him. He smiled at you joining him and got out the frosting. He handed you a spatula and you started to frost the cake.

“You don’t have to keep wearing that if you don’t want.” Peter chuckled and went to take your crown off. You quickly swatted his hand and adjusted your crown.

“Back off. It’s mine.” You said and stepped away from him. He chuckled again and you laughed too.

“I really do appreciate everything you did for me tonight. I hope I can make it up to you one day.” You told him.

“You can make it up to me right now if we clear off this counter top and-“

“No.” You cut him off.

“Worth a try.” He mumbled.

“Really, though. You cheered me up tonight and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“In a way, I’m glad your stupid friends cancelled on you. It gave us an opportunity to spend time together. And this was the least I could do for not taking you to my real prom. Which was total buns, by the way. I missed most of it because I was putting my dates dad in jail.”

“Well I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.” You laughed softly.

“Me either. I wish I took you to the first one. We could have been friends this whole time if I had just remembered my promise.” He sighed.

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m done moping about it. I’m ready to eat this cake and be friends from now on.”

“I’m ready for that too.” He smiled at you. “Especially the part about us being friends. But also for this cake because it’s kinda giving me a boner from how good it smells.”

“It does smell really good. I can’t even blame your boner. But if that thing even looks at me you’re getting impromptu gender reassignment surgery with this spatula.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled and looked over at you. He didn’t stop looking at you until you felt his eyes on you.

“What?” You laughed shyly.

“I can’t believe you ever liked me. And that this whole time, I had no idea. I am so not cool enough for a girl like you to like.”

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t like I dropped any hints.”

“Maybe not. It just doesn’t feel real. I wouldn’t believe it even if you weren’t always mean to me. You reciprocating my feelings was not something I ever thought would happen.”

“Reciprocating? You liked me too?” You asked as your mouth went dry.

“Are you kidding? You’re my mentors insanely hot and totally off limits daughter. Of course I liked you. Not to mention you’re funny, smart, good with a screwdriver and the apparently my biggest supporter. Though you did it in secret. Make no mistake, birthday girl. I had the biggest crush on you for years. Even when you were being mean to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said quietly. You had your back to him as you washed your hands but you could feel his eyes on you. You peaked over your shoulder and sure enough, Peter’s eyes were locked on you. You gulped and turned back around when you heard him walking over to you.

“You know, as mean as your insults were, they were always clever. And you always looked good saying them. How could I not fall for you?” He said as he came up behind you. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, along with a scent that was just distinctly Peter, making your heart pound in your ears. You turned around and leaned against the counter as you looked into his eyes.

“Well how do you feel now?” You asked with unwavering eye contact.

“I feel like those feelings never left.” He admitted. You had never heard such confidence in his voice and it was just the thing to tip the scales back in his favor.

“Hm. Interesting.” You shrugged and turned back around. It was almost like you could hear the disappointment in the air once you had your back to him again. You decided not to torture him forever and give in to what you both wanted.

“Peter?” You asked and looked over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah?”

“Clear the countertop.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @itsemohours

@tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[readwritealldayallnight]

im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️

The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it

He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so

You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over

He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that

You’re as smitten with him as he is with you

Still though, Simon does have eyes

And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you

To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it

That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances

“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time

“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment

Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses

Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection

“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”

The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before

“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking

“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”

The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words

“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night

It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities

Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back

No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly

He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him

Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava

If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot

But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone

[helluvapoison]

Possessive

how the overlords would put a claim on you

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚

As much as she loves spending her mornings in bed with you, wishfully thinking she could stay there all day, she can only give you 3 more minutes at best. Being an Overlord and a CEO keeps her rather busy. You’re grown, you can handle yourself (you have to in this world) she’s not keeping tabs on your whereabouts. Carmilla isn’t itching for a fight like these new “up and comers”. Giving you something to protect you when she’s not around simultaneously puts a target on your back. A simple ring with her name inscribed would suffice, satisfying any possessive vices she may or may not have

˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Abhorrent is jealousy, driving the younger generations to filth like, ugh, hickeys. Although, on a certain level he does understand. Being in Hell for as long as he has and alone the same amount, he knows all too well the primal need to claim what other’s might steal. One must leave their mark as a warning sign for others. Zestial’s exceptionally charming when he wants something, notably not asking when he presents you with the crisply wrapped gifts. There’s no less than twenty. Boxes upon boxes of accessories and clothes that suit you but hold his color palette, spider and web details to boot. He’s utterly thrilled when you wear them, showering you in compliments and declaring himself the luckiest soul in Hell

˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Goodness, have you seen how sinners nowadays go about the whole ordeal? What happened to romance!? Call her old fashioned, but Rosie likes a smidge of glamour in her techniques! She’ll walk shoulder to shoulder with you, holding her parasail over the both of you. She’ll accidentally press her painted lips on your cheek and forget, quickly getting swept up into conversation with someone or the other. It’s fine, no one would question her! Not if they wanted to live anyways. Butterflies swarm her stomach when she notices you haven’t wiped her imprint away, a proud smile spreading across her face. It becomes purposeful as the days go on

˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

While happy to broadcast newsworthy exploits, sharing his private affairs with the world is out of the question. Of course the appeal of it all isn’t lost on him, he merely doesn’t see the point. Why broaden your horizons of potential dangers by claiming you publicly? To calm that unruly, covetous alien in the pit of his chest? He’s not that selfish! Besides, nothing less than something permanent could truly satisfy him anyhow

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

If he doesn’t have eyes on you, he’s working. Those measley hours apart won’t stop him from reminding all of Hell you still belong to him. He doesn’t trust anyone down here. He’ll convince you it’s for your safety that he tightens the collar around your neck. With a hum of approval, Val’s long and slender fingers twist the tag with his name on it. Heart shaped, of course, he loves you after all!

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Only the insecure need to put a claim on their person. That’s not Vox, no way! You’re never really out of his sights anyways, what with today’s power of technology and all! The need to brand you goes a different route. He wants everyone to know you’re spoken for, pulling you on camera every chance he gets. He wants them to stare in awe and envy but cast their eyes down when you walk by in public. A slight on you would be a slight on him personally and no one messes with The Vees

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Truthfully, there isn’t much she wouldn’t do. You’re all over her Sinstagram and that says it all. Every runway show, every red carpet walk, every paparazzi shot you’re always beside her. Vel dresses you left and right to match her OOTD somehow. She snaps a pic every single day (sometimes more) to show her followers their favorite couple is thriving and stylish as always! The description never fails to scream how your all hers

[nmakii]

strayed from the main idea of this drabble… oops.

sae itoshi, who loves calling his girl ‘amorcita’. that’s fine, and all. it’s romantic, but he likes calling you his princess much more.

princess is more than just a pet name to him though. because to him, you’re truly a princess, graceful and beautiful despite your faults; someone who deserves to be given the world. he’d go to the ends of the earth to find something that doesn’t exist if you asked him to find it.

it’s not much of an exaggeration when you say that he’s down bad.

he is— he’s just very good at hiding it. he doesn’t boast about you loudly in the ways that someone like that devil— shidou— might, but he instead manages to offhandedly relate any conversation topic to you.

oddly enough, the only other time sae’s ever as talkative or passionate about something other than football, is when he’s talking about you.

that additional time where aiku asked shidou why he was making funny faces in the locker room? after that, sae mentioned, “my princess makes weird faces too. when she’s sleeping, her cheek is always pressed up to me, and it leaves a red mark in the morning. and, she can never manage to keep her mouth closed when she’s asleep. once, i was able to feed her while she was asleep.” and he sighed, silently smiling at the funny memory.

in his first interview after going public with you as his girlfriend, he immediately jumped at the opportunity to mention you. he had always thought that these interviews were an unnecessary hassle. he’s a good football player, and he’ll let his work speak for itself. “right! soo… sae, how are you adjusting to your new team?” the interviewer asks. sae thinks for a moment, his lower lip raising in a slight pout as he thinks of how to answer. “…the center forward has incredible dribbling skills, i’ll admit that. but, his shot range and goal chance percentage are awful. the rate at which he can score goals is still lukewarm.” he sighs disappointedly, “the best striker in the world seems to have not had his awakening yet. it’s annoying, but the city isn’t so bad. there’s a french bakery near my apartment that my princess and i like to frequent. she loves those flaky croissants with chocolate in them— pain au chocolat, but i tend to just get their house black coffee.” he’s recalling your typical order as if it’s the back of his hand, and the flow of his speech is much more relaxed than when he had been speaking about his new team.

and at this point, the interviewer is confused. “pardon… your ‘princess’?” he repeats, trying to confirm what he heard. sae nods, “yes, my princess; my girlfriend. she really likes those chocolate croissants. she eats about a fourth of it in just one bite. and when some hot chocolate from the inside burns her on the lip, she complains a bit and asks me to kiss it better. it’s really cheesy on her part, but i guess i don’t mind if it’s for her.” even sae doesn’t know just what he’s saying. he didn’t mean to reveal this much about how he feels. …yet, here he was, going on like a pining gentleman in love, and remembering how the softness of your lips felt against his as the piping hot chocolate pressed and stuck onto his lips as well.

in his eyes, you’re as close to perfection as there ever will be. it didn’t matter whether or not your physical appearance changed, or if you suddenly decided to change your career path— as long as you stayed as who you are, he’d be at your side.

and to be worthy of such a perfect human being; his princess. he has to become a king— a king of the field. one who domineers the field with his spatial awareness alone, and passes to the one who can keep up with his vision; the greatest egoist. that’s who he needs to become in order to earn your love; to become worthy of being the one that gets to love you every day and every night.

but even so, it’d still never be enough for him. you always make him want to push his limits further, and show you just how amazing he is.

sae’s really down bad for his princess.

[mostly-imagines]

At Least I’m Not Alone at the Wake

jason todd x fem!reader

aka how jason feels safe even when he feels like he’s dying

warnings: angst w comfort throughout

It took less than thirty seconds for the silence of the night to drift into sounds of shrieks echoing off the buildings along the street. The sharp contrast had you and Jason bolting upright on the couch, ears on alert. It only took a few seconds more of listening for you to realize you’re not hearing shouting—it’s laughter. Maniacal, uncontrolled laughter. 

There’s a beat as you both freeze upon the implication, the unsettling realization dropping in on you. You barely have a moment to process it before Jason’s pushing up from the couch and heading towards the bathroom.

“Close the window,” he grumbles.

You blink as you register his words before jumping up to do as told, quickly sliding the frame shut and locking it. He returns soon with an armful of towels in hand, and you stand back as he stuffs a couple along the window sill with rough movements. He goes throughout the apartment, doing the same to the other windows. He rounds back to the living room window, looking down at the street with a heavy look on his face. 

You trust that the towels will do their job in preventing the laughing gas from getting in the apartment, but they’re unable to block out the bellows of hysteria.

He backs away from the window, letting the living room wall hold his weight. You both listen to the harrowing echoes with still bodies. 

You watch him, waiting for a reaction. You don’t mean to, but you know you’re looking at him like he’s a loaded spring. You try not to, you know how much he hates how his family does that to him, but fuck, it’s hard not to worry about him.

When Joker incidents have come up, they’ve usually been something you’re able to ignore or even get ahead of and drive out of the city. But this is raucous and chaotic, clearly enough to shut down the city from the inside. Besides, Jason would be booking it out of here if he thought there was any chance of a clean getaway in this.

But you know he’s got no interest in inserting himself in anything Joker related, especially something so destabilizing.

While you know Jason’s family cares about him, of course they do, but you’ve noticed they sometimes put Gotham’s needs first and his second. So the severity of this attack is concerning for you for two reasons.

“Will they…” you shuffle, “Will they need you?”

He’s quick to answer, voice firm. “No.” A long moment passes before he adds on, quieter, “They won’t want me out there.”

You nod to yourself, trying to relax your body. You being on edge isn’t going to help him.

You watch as his head thumps against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He’s tough—you know he’s tough. He can withstand a hell of a lot more than you’ll probably ever even know. But even for Gotham, this is a lot. And even for someone who hasn’t been through what Jason has, the ringing repetitions of laughter are maddening. You wonder if this is what the Joker hears in his head. You wonder if this is what Jason heard.

The intensity of the laughing increases, more people likely becoming exposed to the gas. You think you can hear it in one of your neighbor’s apartments too.

He thumps his head against the drywall again, hands clenching at his sides. It takes one more forceful thud for you to move over to him, cradling your hand to the side of his head, holding him still. He lets you, though he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jay,” you say softly, stroking his hair. “Let’s take a shower, yeah?” Normally you’d try for a bath to calm him instead but you hope the waterfall from the shower might be enough to drown out the noise.

He takes a second to respond, letting your hand bear the weight of his head. “Yeah.”

His voice is splintered though, and his shoulders droop as he stands up fully. He waits to move until you start to lead him, flinching at every spike of laughter. You reach back and take his hand, giving it two squeezes. He squeezes your hand back but doesn’t loosen his grip.

As you enter the bathroom he wastes no time getting straight to the shower nozzle and turning it on. You press the door shut behind you, sealing out a decent portion of the chaos. You decide against turning the overhead light on, opting instead to let the small pink-shaded lamp provide a warm glow that you can easily maneuver throughout the shadows in. You figure he needs a more tranquil atmosphere than the harsh white light the bathroom ceiling can provide.

You turn to him in time to catch him pulling his shirt up harshly, movements jerked and impatient.

You place a gentle hand on his forearm, “Hey.”

He pauses his actions, eyes on the floor.

You don’t say anything else, but he understands your objection regardless. You remove your touch and he peels his shirt off slower, kinder to himself. 

You wait to make sure he continues this method with the rest of his clothes before you start to remove yours.

The downpour of water on the tiles does it’s intended job in creating your own little sanctum away from the noise. You climb into the shower after him, standing in the stray mist sprays that made their way past him. The bits of water that do manage their way to you are hot—not scalding, but hot enough that you know his chest is going to start getting numb very soon standing in front of the stream like this. 

You trace lines over the muscles of his back, outlining them and every little indent of a scar. When you run out of canvas on his back you move onto his arms, right then left.

It’s not until you trace down his wrist that you realize his head is angled down. You don’t need to be standing in front of him to know that his focus is zeroed in on his scar and you’re not sure how long it's been that way. Too long, in any case.

“Jay,” you say so softly that the water nearly drowns you out. “Will you look at me, please?”

He does turn to you, slowly, but he doesn’t look up.

You hold his face in your hands, nudging him to look up at you. He looks tired, drained. 

You know he has to hear that laughter in a different way than you do. It’s uncomfortable and frightening for you, but for him, it’s layers upon layers of the sound he heard while he was being beaten to death. And even beyond that horrible trauma, the reminder of it brings forth every memory of what happened afterwards, not to mention the heavy baggage you know he feels over being here at all. And you can see it all mulling behind his eyes.

“You know I love you,” you tell him with sincerity. His gaze stays heavy and you can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold the eye contact.

You lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, catching his bottom lip slightly. Your next kiss meets his lips fully. You have to push up on your toes a little bit but he does the work of meeting you halfway. It’s a slow, intimate exchange, as fluid and serene as breathing.

“I love all of you,” you murmur against his lips. You let your hands fall to his chest, resting as gently as they can over his pecs. “Everything about you.”

You kiss the top of his Y scar, trailing down soft pecks to where it forks off. You feel his shoulders sag a bit, tension forcing its way out of him. You lean down to continue your kisses down the vertical line marking his abdomen, your hands lightly following in your wake.

He says your name painfully, like he’s begging you to stop. You’ll give him partial reprieve, taking his hands in yours and kissing his scarred knuckles. It’s his instinct to push affection away, you know that, but you also know that he needs it. That’s why he doesn’t stop you now—he knows he needs it—it’s just a lot for him all at once, emotionally. Which is why he gives no warning before he picks you up by your thighs and pulls you close. 

He’s got you a full head higher than him and he uses the difference to hide his face in your neck. Sometimes he feels like that’s the only place he can go. He maneuvers you around so your back is pressed up against the wall as you hold each other tight.

You stay in there like that until the water runs cold, and then some. You have to nudge him a bit into setting you back down then, but he does, letting you collect and wrap the both of you in towels. The second the water turns off you can hear the cackling through the walls. 

As you return to the bedroom, he only bothers to pull on a pair of boxers before collapsing his weight onto the mattress. The lack of layers won’t help him any, but you know why he did it.

He can’t always look after himself the way he should—he disregards his own needs and has trouble even thinking of what could help him. You’ve developed a mind for it though—for him—and you know that being exposed and vulnerable like this isn’t going to help him calm down. He prefers being covered up when he’s stressed, it gives him more security, you think.

You open up the dresser and dig through for his most comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. He takes them from you, but he looks remiss at the thought of exerting anymore energy right now, so you help him tug on the clothes, successfully blocking out the now icy air from the AC. 

Once he’s fully clothed he pulls you forward to sit on his lap. You stumble a bit on the way but he compensates by holding you very tight, not giving your body any option to fall. His grip on you tells you that he’s not concerned with you getting dressed too, which you’re perfectly willing to oblige.

You have to force him to let you break away a little bit so you can reach over to the nightstand and grab your phone and earbuds.

“Movie or music?”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods his head once at the end of your sentence. You take that to mean music and open up your playlist on your phone, handing him the headphones.

There’s a harsh spike in the hysterics outside, mixed with what sounds like screams, and it has Jason flinching hard. You think you can see tears welled in his eyes as he fumbles to get the headphones in his ears. He takes the phone from you and picks the first song he sees and turns the volume up, up, up.

You shift yourself around so that you’re laying back against the pillows, giving him room to lay down over your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist with a firm grip. You pull the hood up over his head, but keep your hands woven underneath, threading through his hair. 

His cheek mushes against your bare stomach, and with the way he’s laying, you’re sure the earbuds are digging uncomfortably into his ear. He makes no effort to move in any case. You can hear the song playing word for word, and while the noise exposure concerns you, if there was ever a time to let it go, it would be now.

You’re both wrapped up nicely in the blankets and you can only see the tip of his nose and a few strands of ivory hair strewn past his forehead. Despite all the snug layers, he shakes a bit under your touch.

He falls asleep before the problem outside gets wrapped up, and you turn down the music. Not all the way, just enough that he can rest in peace. 

After a while the giggles die down and aside from a few first responder sirens, things get quiet again. About twenty minutes later, Nightwing ducks in through your window and scares the hell out of you. The interaction does not, however, wake Jason up, which is how you know tonight took a very heavy toll on him.

Even though the lights aren’t on in your bedroom you slide down from the pillows a bit more and let the blanket and Jason drown your chest out from visibility.

Nightwing gives you a silent, if not awkward, wave and scans over Jason. Even in the dark can see the worry in his eyes. He looks back up at you and throws up a questioning thumbs up with a tilt of his head.

You nod and he nods back slowly as he takes one more look at his brother before hopping out the window.

You peer down at Jason and brush his curls back gently. His hold on you tightens just a bit as he turns in his sleep.

reblog things or get out seriously

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 8

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Breeding - Bang Chan

Word Count: 8.4k

Summary: Your family’s yearly vacation is here and once again, you’re single. To avoid having your dating life be poked and prodded by your relatives, you decide to turn your best friend for a little help. Everyone already knows him! What’s the worst that could happen if he pretends to be your boyfriend for the week?

—————————————————————————

“It’s going to be a disaster,” you lament, leaning your head back over your couch. Your coffee mug gripped tightly in your hand.

A random movie is playing on your TV, but neither you nor your best friend are paying attention.

“It will not,” Chan chides and nudges your arm with his elbow.

He sips his own drink slowly, watching you throw your arm over your eyes.

“Yes it will! Every year my family goes on this vacation to the mountains, and every year I’m reminded that I’m the only single adult in the family.”

You sigh.

“You’re not the only single one, what about your cousin?”

“He started dating someone about a month after last year’s vacation. They’re still together, so she’s coming on the trip.” Your tone switches to something less dramatic. “She’s lovely, by the way, you’d like her. Very friendly.”

Chan laughs. “So, you’re single and alone there, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s your family. ”

“They make fun of me the whole time! And if I do anything my mom doesn’t like, she’ll go ‘this is why you don’t have a boyfriend, Y/N.’ Ugh!”

“Aren’t there only four ‘older’ cousins?”

“Yes, and I’m the only single one above the age of seventeen. I’m twenty four and I am going to die alone.”

Your arm drops from your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling.

The air in your apartment is warm and comfortable. Candles burn on the table beside you, filling the house with a pleasant warm cinnamon scent.

It was always one of Chan’s favorites.

“How long until the trip?” he asks.

“Next weekend.”

“Not enough time for a dating app, huh?”

You force a laugh. “No. Can you imagine? ‘Coffee was great! You wanna come on a week-long vacation with me and my giant, loud family?’ They would run for the hills.”

“Your family is great and you know it.”

“I know, they’re just… obnoxiously close, that’s all. I love them, don’t get me wrong.” You motion your arms up to the ceiling wildly in an exasperated movement. “But if I need to listen to my aunt nitpick my appearance in passive aggressive ways to ‘help’, I might kill myself.”

Chan takes a long sip of his drink. “They’re not that bad.”

You roll your eyes. “They love you so much, what would you know? Every time I bring you around them I always get tons of questions afterwards about you. I think my cousin is in love with you.”

“Which one?”

“Lily.”

“She’s twelve.”

“Twelve and in love with you.”

Both of you sit in silence for a moment. Chan’s attention slides back to the TV. He’s looking at it, but he’s not absorbing what’s really playing.

Same with you, you’re too busy wrapped up in your thoughts when an idea hits you all of a sudden.

“That’s it!” you yell, sitting up straight. Your voice startles Chan and he almost spills his drink all over your couch.

“What? What’s it?” he asks quickly, checking his pants to make sure nothing spilled.

“You can come with me!”

“You want me to go on your family’s yearly vacation in place of a boyfriend?”

“I want you to come on my family’s yearly vacation as my boyfriend.”

Chan’s head snaps over to you, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. You’re already looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Please, Chan!” you beg before he has a chance to say no. “Please, please, please!” you repeat over and over again.

Placing your coffee on the table, you crawl closer to him on the couch, begging over and over again.

“They already love you so much! It would be so easy ! Plus, it’s all expenses paid! It’s a free vacation to a lake house in the mountains with your best friend!”

“Felix isn’t going.” Chan teases.

You whine and grab his free hand. “No, me! Your best friend! Pretty please Chan! I’ll owe you big time!”

He stares at you for a long moment, thinking it through in his head. You’re staring at him with big, pleading, sparkly eyes. He’s never been able to say no to that look.

He sucks his teeth, head cocking to the side for a second. The hand in yours twitches and he holds it, like a faux-shake.

“Fine,” he says. “But, you owe me dinner.”

Squealing, you throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He wraps his beverage-free hand around you and hugs you back. “You’re seriously the best, thank you!”

“I know, I know. Now can we please finish the movie?”

——————————————

The trunk to your car slams shut, Chan dusts his hands off and then rests them on his hips.

“You look like a dad,” you tell him while coming up to the car with your backpack slung over your shoulder.

“A dad who packed the trunk of your car perfectly.” He eyes the backpack on your shoulder. “That goes in the backseat. I’m not opening the trunk again.”

Giggling, you open the backdoor and toss it in.

“Can you drive?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. “You know how much I hate driving.”

Chan sighs and holds his hand out for the keys.

“You’re the best!” you cheer and toss them to him.

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Chan rolls his eyes and ducks into the driver’s side of the car. “Do you have the address?”

You duck inside the car and start typing on your phone. “I should have it in my texts, one sec.”

Scrolling through your phone, you try to find the text that your aunt sent you with the address. Your family has rented the same AirBnb every year since you were fourteen and yet you could never remember the address of the place.

As you’re searching for it, a phone call from your mom comes in.

“Oh, hold on.” You say to Chan and hit the answer button.

“Hey, ma!” you greet into the phone.

“Hey, sweetie! Are you on your way yet?”

“We just got into the car, actually. We’re about to leave.”

“I thought you would’ve left an hour ago.”

“Chan got held up at work, actually. Not his fault.”

At the mention of his name, Chan perks up and looks over at you, listening to the phone call intently.

“Ah, gotcha. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you two finally started dating.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still kinda new,” you lie through your teeth. You look up and make eye contact with Chan. “We only became official about…”

His eyes widen and he looks around panicked. Quickly, he holds up three fingers.

“About three week-”

He moves about wildly.

“Months! Three months ago! Sorry, I’m a little distracted putting all the bags in the car.”

Chan reacts to your lie comically, his chin jutting forward, head cocking to the side. You wave him off silently. Your mother doesn’t seem to clock your panic about the situation.

“I always saw how the two of you looked at each other, it was only a matter of time, really.”

A blush crawls up your neck and turns your ears and cheeks red. Chan looks down at his lap and coughs nervously, a blush of his own making its way onto his skin.

“Anyway, we better get going, mom! You know how talking on the phone while driving is illegal and all.”

“Make Chan drive! He’s the boyfriend.”

“You’re so right… And he should do so without putting up a fuss.”

Chan motions down to himself, as if to say ‘I’m already the one in the driver’s seat’. You wave him off again, trying to focus on your mother’s voice.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see you soon, but I expect some questions to be answered when I see you, Y/N!” Her voice is teasing, but it makes your blood run cold.

“Of course, mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye, love you!”

You don’t give her a chance to answer you before you hang up.

The silence in the car is so loud, the air is so still.

“So,” you say slowly. “We need to come up with a backstory, huh?”

“It seems so.”

Another bout of silence.

Neither of you are looking at each other, you’re both facing forward, staring out the windshield.

“I’ll uh… find the address.”

“Yeah.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and scroll through your phone. Chan waits a second before starting the car.

——————————————

Chan turned one of the final corners of the trip onto the street.

“Our first date?” he asks.

“Coffee at the cafe by my apartment.”

“Second date?”

“Movies, we saw Barbie. We went out to eat afterwards. A diner.”

“When did we become official?”

“Three months ago. May 6th. You asked me after our third date.”

“And?”

“You kissed me at my door.”

“Good.”

You both pause for a moment.

“How come I can’t be the one that kissed you?” you tease him.

Chan laughs out loud and turns the car into the driveway. “As if you would ever make the first move.”

You look at him incredulously. “I so would! You’re the one who gets too nervous to do anything. I say I kissed you, not the other way around.”

“No way, I kissed you.”

Chan puts the car into park.

“Absolutely not. I kissed you first.” you reply.

“Keep dreaming. I walked you to your door, we stood there and talked for a minute. You went to walk inside, but I stopped you and kissed you.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt.

“No, after we talked, there was an awkward silence and I could see how nervous you were and how you kept looking at my lips. So, I took the first step and kissed you.”

Grabbing the door handle, you wrench it open before Chan could issue a rebuttal again.

He calls your name from inside the car and lets out a loud groan afterwards.

“You can’t have all the firsts, now can you?” you call back, walking around to the trunk.

The front door to the house rips open and two of your little cousins come tearing out of the house with happy smiles.

“Y/N! Y/N!” they both call out, sprinting up to you.

Leaning down, you scoop both of them up into a hug with both arms, giving them an equally excited hello. Both of them hug you tightly.

They’re five and nine years old, girl and boy– the youngest of the cousins.

“Look who else I brought with me,” you giggle and look over at Chan, who was watching you from the side of the car. The door still opened, his arm leaning on the top.

Both of their tiny gazes turn towards him and just like that, you’re forgotten about.

“Chan!” They both cheer and run at him full tilt.

He wraps both of them up in his strong arms and picks them off the ground.

“Hello, you two!” he coos and gives them both kisses on their heads.

Something twinges within your heart seeing him interact with the two of them that way, it goes through you like an arrow. His brown eyes are so warm and sparkly holding your two little cousins close to him.

A genuine, bright smile pulled across his beautiful face.

Chan steps away from the car and puts them on the ground, they both complain. “Come on, I need to help Y/N with the bags. I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I made her carry them all by herself.”

Your heart thuds again. Boyfriend.

The two kids groan and give in, running back into the house, telling everyone of your arrival.

Chan watches them for a moment before turning to look at you with a sheepish smile. You smile back and knock twice on the hood of your car.

“Come on then, boyfriend. These bags won't carry themselves.”

He laughs and grabs the bags from the trunk, arguing with you when you try to lift some of the heavier bags. Well, you weren’t going to argue about carrying something if you didn’t need to.

The cold air conditioned house was a familiar sight when you walked through the front door. One of your aunts was near the entrance when you first came in.

“Y/N, Chan, you’re here! We have you both in the room down here, I hope that’s okay.” she says, pointing to the room down the hall. It’s one of only three bedrooms on the first floor.

“Yeah! That’s totally fine, thank you.”

You smile and walk to the room, dropping your bags down on the bed.

The singular bed in the room.

Chan follows you inside the room with your bags, plopping them down on the floor by the door. You turn to look at him, he’s staring at the bed, most likely thinking the same thing that you are.

He closes the door behind you both.

“I didn’t think about this part.” you say quietly just in case someone was outside the door.

He shrugs. “Just don’t hog the blankets,” he jokes. Chan brushes it off so easily.

What you don’t know is his heart is racing just as much as yours is. His mouth has gone completely dry and he had to gulp down some nerves before jesting with you.

It’s just a bed, right? Both of you can share a bed, no problem. Not at all.

The two of you have fallen asleep on the couch together before. But, it’s not quite the same as sharing a bedroom for the next week.

“I didn’t think you would need any blankets since you’re a human space heater.” You open your one bag and pull out a few smaller things.

“You’re just jealous because you’re cold all the time.” Chan stands on the other side of the bed, plugging his phone charger into the wall.

“I’m not cold all the time.”

“You’re in a sweatshirt and it’s eighty five degrees outside.”

“We had the air conditioning on in the car.”

There’s a few knocks on the bedroom door. “Dinner!”

——————————————

Contrary to what you both originally thought, your family did not grill the two of you interrogation style about your relationship. Instead, you were met with a lot of “It was only a matter of time”.

Each time one of your family members said something along those lines, both you and Chan would grow extremely shy, faces flushing and hearts racing.

Dinner was held in the back room attached to the large kitchen, a long dining table sat in the room, benches full of your family members lined it.

There were so many of you: eight cousins, three aunts, two uncles, two parents, one sister, one brother in law, one grandmother.

This was not the first time Chan had been around your extremely large family, not at all. He’s around you all the time, especially when he can’t go home to Australia for holidays. You always invite him to your family celebrations, and each time he’s more than thrilled to be there.

Everyone was so happy that he was there; part of you thinks they’re happier to see him than you.

Dinner came and went, it was filled with laughter and stories, like it usually is. Your dad and his brothers all teased one another, bringing up stories of being young in the 70’s and 80’s.

“Let’s do a movie night!” One of your younger cousins turns to her older brother. “You’ve been promising me that we would watch Star Wars.”

“You want to watch Star Wars tonight?” he replies.

“Yes, please! Cousins movie night!" She cheers and grabs her plate. “We can set the couches up like last year!”

Chan leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Movie night?”

“There’s a den upstairs with a couple couches, we push them together to make a giant bed and all watch movies at night. Very common L/N Family Activity on vacation.” you answer, leaning closer to him. “The adults usually go to bed and all the cousins watch movies.”

“Sounds exciting.”

Both of you chuckle and smile at one another. His dimples showing. You two seem to be in your own little bubble.

Chan’s leaning so close his body heat is radiating through your clothes. The fabric of his shirt is brushing against your bare arm.

“You’ll find that there’s a certain schedule to each day, breakfast, play down at the lake, lunch, back to the lake, get ready for dinner, eat dinner, movie time.”

“I think I can get used to that.”

“You better.”

A throat clears by you. Your aunt is looking at the two of you with a playful smile. “Are you both going to help clean up or what?”

——————————————

“Dibs on sitting next to Y/N!” One of your little cousins calls out after you all finished pushing the couches together.

“No, I want to sit next to her!” Another yells out.

The youngest runs up and throws his arms around your hips, hugging you close to him. Both arms don’t make it around you all the way.

“No, me!”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. He holds you tighter and it knocks you off balance slightly.

“Come on, hon, you got to sit next to me at dinner, let someone else have a turn.” you coo down to him.

“No!” he pouts and hugs you tighter. You grimace and try to pry his arms off you.

Chan comes out of nowhere and picks your cousin off the ground in one fell swoop. “How about me, huh?” he teases and tickles your cousin with his one free hand.

Your cousin starts giggling like crazy.

“Don’t I get to sit next to my girlfriend?” he jokes and tickles him even more.

The biggest smile stretches over your face, heart warming once more.

Chan drops your cousin onto the couches, he bounces a bit, still laughing.

The tickle torture continues now that both of Chan’s hands are free. Giggles turn into cackles.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t fight the smile on your face and the feeling that stirs in your stomach. Are you ovulating? You have to be. There’s no other explanation for the flutter within your chest.

He just looks so natural like that. The teasing looked adorable.

It wasn’t until one of your older cousins came into the room before your gaze was taken away from Chan.

“Lovesick, eh?” he says in your ear.

“Oh, shut up.” You hit him in the arm.

“I know that look anywhere, Y/N. You can’t fool me.” He laughs and then walks to take his spot on the big couch huddle with his girlfriend.

Chan picks your little cousin up by the ankle and starts dragging him around. Both of their laughter was music to your ears.

“Okay, okay! Move time!” You call out to the two of them. Chan looks over at you immediately with the goofiest grin on his face.

Your little cousin groans.

“Give me my boyfriend back,” you tease and climb onto the couch.

After several minutes of figuring out seating and finding the movie on the TV, everyone was finally settled.

Chan sat directly next to you, his arm on the back of the couch behind you. Both of your legs stretched out in front of you and a shared blanket draped over you both.

The opening title sequence of Star Wars starts playing and silence falls over your cousins for the first time since you got there.

Absent-mindedly, Chan’s fingers lightly brush over the skin of your exposed shoulder from behind you. They trace small shapes lightly.

You can’t even focus on the movie in front of you, Chan’s touch is too distracting.

Your sister and her fiance sat on the other side of you. She leaned over and whispered in your ear about twenty minutes into the movie.

“You can cuddle with your boyfriend, you know.”

A flush crawls up your neck. “Yeah, of course I know that. I just didn’t want to–”

Chan must’ve heard her, his hand closes over your shoulder and brings you closer to him. Your body turns into his, head tucked underneath his chin. His body warmth seeps into you as soon as you press into him.

The cherry on top is when he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair before resting his chin on top of your head. A shockwave of goosebumps ripples through your body.

Thinking you were chilly, Chan wraps his other arm around you and holds you even closer.

Well, if he’s playing the part.

You intertwine your legs with his underneath the blanket. His heart jumps in his chest and he has to fight the urge to press another kiss into your hair.

Chan knew he was pushing his luck with the first one, but it just felt so natural, he couldn’t help himself. Every single time the two of you touch, he instinctually takes it further into a romantic zone.

Previously, he would restrain himself from advancing these moments with you, but now? He doesn’t need to hold himself back. He can let his body react naturally.

The movie continues on, whenever a younger cousin would ask any questions about the movie, one of the older kids would answer.

Whenever Chan was the one to answer, his voice would rumble deep within his chest. The later it got, the raspier it sounded.

Throughout the movie, you both just got more and more tangled up underneath the blanket. You slid an arm around to rest your hand on Chan’s chest; fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt.

Chan melted into your touch so easily.

In all the years you’ve been close friends, you’ve never been this level of a human pretzel while hanging out. He’s relishing every moment of it. Your shared body heat mingling is intoxicating to him.

He’s such a tactile person, physical touch is definitely his love language.

Chan can’t remember a time he was ever this cozy while watching a movie.

One of his hands moves from your shoulder and into your hair, running his fingers through the strands gently.

Every muscle in your body relaxes when he starts scratching at your scalp lightly. His soft exhales puff out on your head. Normally, this would bother you, but instead you find it soothing.

Both of you were fighting against your eyelids towards the end of the movie. The little kids fell asleep about ten minutes before the credits rolled.

Chan squeezes you tighter for a moment before whispering into your hair, “Time for bed.”

Your heart squeezes. “I gotta help get the little ones to bed.”

“I got it,” he answers. “Go wash up and get to bed. I’ll be downstairs in a few.”

Words can’t even describe how much your heart melts at his words.

Pull it together, Y/N. He’s your fake boyfriend for the week, remember? Not your real one.

It’s Chan – Bang Chan. The same guy who held your hair each time you drank yourself sick in college. The guy who camps out at your dining room table to work because he claims the Wi-Fi is better at your apartment.

Nevertheless, you peel yourself off of him, untangling your limbs and sitting up.

“You’re the best,” you say to him with a sleepy smile.

“I know.”

——————————————

Sunlight streams in through the bedroom window and the air conditioning unit continuously hums in the room.

A strong arm squeezing tighter around your body is what drags you out of dreamland.

A searingly hot body is pressed flush against the back of yours; legs tangled up, back to chest, soft exhales blowing into your hair lightly.

The haze of sleep still has your mind in its grip. All you know in that moment is that it’s so cozy, so warm, so nice that you can’t help but press your body backwards into that serene clasp.

The arm tightens again and brings you even closer.

A nose nuzzles further into the back of your head.

Chan, it’s Chan behind you.

You should care. You should be prying his arm off your waist and scooting over away from him.

But you don’t want to. It’s too nice.

It’s so peaceful, you’re about to drift back to sleep when the sound of two separate footsteps run towards your bedroom door.

They’re so loud, it rips you from sleep and you tense up, preparing for impact.

Your bedroom door is practically flung open.

Chan jolts against your body at the noise, his eyes snap open, arm tightening around you even more in a protective manner.

He has about two seconds to get his bearings before both cousins leap onto the bed, yelling at you both to wake up.

Chan releases you and turns over onto his back with a deep groan.

You groan and squint your eyes closed, bringing the covers up over your head.

“Noooo…” you moan out.

Chan laughs and grabs one little cousin closely, hugging her close to his chest. “Are you in here to sleep in bed with us? I sure hope so since it’s still soooo early.”

She giggles and tries to fight against his strong arms. “No!” she cackles. “You have to eat breakfast so we can go swimming down at the lake!”

Your other, more calm, cousin squirms underneath the covers and cuddles up to you. Slinging an arm around him, you keep your eyes closed and try to let your mind drift off again.

This is not the first time he’s done this, and it most likely will not be the last. It breaks your heart thinking about the year he feels like he’s too old to do this.

Chan is practically wrestling with your cousin next to you. She squeals when he turns on his side with her encased in his arms.

“Chaaan!” she giggles.

After a few moments, he lets her go and she clambers off the bed.

“Come on, Chan! Come sit next to me at breakfast!” She pulls on his hand closest to the edge of the bed.

He laughs and turns his head to look at you. You’re fast asleep again with your younger cousin asleep in your arms.

Chan’s heart slams against his ribcage and his stomach does a cartwheel.

Your sleeping face is so peaceful, and the way your little cousin has the same hair color as you had the cogs in his mind turning.

What if that was your kid in your arms, not just a cousin?

What if it was his?

His eyes flicker all over your face.

Something stirs in his mind, shooting down his spine. If it wasn’t for your other little cousin yanking on his arm over and over again, probably would’ve watched you for a few more moments, allowing his mind to roam into dangerous territory.

——————————————

“You’re staring.” Your aunt sits next to Chan with a plate full of food.

He’s camped out on the back porch of the cabin. It overlooks the wooden stairs that lead down to the dock hanging over the lake.

You’re lounging out on a floaty, pina colada in your hand– courtesy of him. He had walked it down to you only a few moments ago.

When it was announced that it was lunch time, you told Chan you wanted to work on your tan without worrying about your cousins splashing you every five seconds.

Maybe making you a frozen drink was just an excuse to see your face light up when he brought it to you. Maybe it was an excuse to watch the water droplets slide over your body up close.

Chan clears his throat and tears his eyes off your lazing form. Clearly, he’d been caught staring at your bikini clad form.

She nudges his arm playfully. “Don’t be embarrassed, it would be weirder if you didn’t stare, you know.”

Your family can be so crass sometimes.

Chan laughs and takes a bite of the sandwich on his plate. “It’s just nice to see her relaxing for once.”

“Has she been working herself into the ground again?”

“She never stops.”

Your aunt nods and looks back down at you before taking a bite of her own food. “Also helps that she looks good in that bathing suit.” She pauses. “Damn, your kids will be good looking.”

Chan chokes on his bite of food, his body jerks forward and he slams his fist into his chest to try and get it down.

Your aunt pats him on the back a few times, laughing at his expense.

“What?” She questions with an evil chuckle. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

“We’ve only been together for three months,” he wheezes out, still hitting his chest. The clump of food is sitting in his throat.

“And?”

“It’s too early to think about stuff like that,” he lies through his teeth.

You’re not even his. You’re not. This week will end and you’ll have to go back to just being best friends.

He’ll have to pretend that he wasn’t fake sleeping for the last hour before you woke up just to have his arms around you for a little while longer.

“Please.” Your aunt rolls her eyes and goes back to her food when another family member joins the table.

Chan takes a long swig of water before letting his eyes flicker to you once more. Your free hand hangs down in the water, head tilted back to dip into the cool lake, exposing your long, beautiful neck.

In his swim trunks, his cock twitches and he takes an even bigger drink of water.

——————————————

The torture continues endlessly for the two of you.

It’s the fourth night when it’s just you and Chan left awake.

Rain is pouring against the windows outside, the fireplace is lit, TV playing something in the background.

“I’m never going to get to bed.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t have had coffee with dessert,” you tease Chan, nudging his arm.

“Your uncle offered me a cup and I panicked.”

“You don’t even like coffee.”

“I know!” He whined.

You laugh at his expense. “Come on,” you tug on his arm. “You promised you would play pool with me.”

“When did I say that?”

“Literally this morning!”

“Fine, fine.”

He allows you to pull him off the couch with a dorky smile on his face. He loves giving you a hard time for no reason at all.

The pool table sat in the front room, just a few steps away from your bedroom.

Every time the two of you had gone to play pool, other family members would get in the way and pull one of you two in another direction.

Tonight was really the first night you both had to yourselves.

“You break,” you tell him once everything is set up. He nods and lines up his shot. After a second, he hits the cue ball perfectly into the cluster and all the balls scatter along the table, but nothing sinks into the pocket.

“Pity,” you tease him.

“Pity,” he repeats, mocking your tone.

Laughing, you bend over and line up your own shot. From across the table, Chan watches your form bend over, his lip pulling between his teeth mindlessly.

You hit the ball and sink one in.

With a cheer on the quieter side, you look at him with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully as you line up another shot.

The game continues just like this for a bit. Both of you going back and forth, missing most shots, but also nailing some good ones.

You’re tied at the end, racing to try and sink the 8-ball before the other person.

Leaning over the table right in front of him, you try and set up your aim.

“Wait,” Chan says quietly before you can pull the pool stick back to take your shot.

He leans down over you, pressing his back into yours, arms coming around you. He guides your aim to hit the cue ball differently.

The entire time, your heart rate is increasing exponentially.

“Just a bit more to the left,” he whispers in your ear. Chills rip down your body and you gulp. His voice sounds so low and sensual.

His hand over yours adjusts with tiny, miniscule movements. He keeps changing the aim a bit to the left, then a bit to the right, like he’s prolonging the contact.

Behind you, his hips are pressed into yours. It’s taking every ounce of willpower and control for him not to get hard in his sweats.

Especially, since in this position, he potentially could–

“Pull back,” he rasps. You follow his instructions immediately. He helps guide the pool stick back, hesitating for a moment. His chest inflates with a deep breath.

He breathes in the smell of your shampoo.

“Shoot,” he exhales.

With his guidance, you both shoot the ball, standing up quickly to watch it bounce off the 8-ball and then sinking into the corner pocket.

You cheer and jump up, turning around to face him directly.

“Take that!”

When you turned to face him, he hadn’t backed away yet. You’re practically nose to nose with Chan. A gasp catches in your throat from his proximity.

And yet, he still doesn’t back away. He continues to stare at you, his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes again.

“Y/N,” he breathes out.

You swallow nervously and hold his eye contact.

Chan’s jaw clenches once, his hands ball into fists at his sides. Every single ounce of constraint is being tested within his body right now.

Cracks are going up the dam of his self control.

You’re not moving away; why aren’t you moving away from him?

He watches your eyes flicker down to his lips once and that’s all it takes for his mind to snap.

Chan lunges forward, grabbing your face with both of his hands and smashing your lips together. You let out a surprised noise against his mouth, your pool stick clattering to the ground.

Every bit of pent up aggression from the last few days is poured into the first kiss.

His hands aren’t on your face for long. He can’t keep still, sliding them all over your body; into your hair, down your sides, grabbing your hips, he’s everywhere.

“Fuck,” he growls against your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit.”

Even though he’s apologizing, he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop slotting his lips over yours, devouring your very being.

Chan’s eyebrows are pinched together painfully. He’s pinning your body against the pool table with his hips.

You grab at his shirt and pull him closer.

“Shut up,” you say in between heated kisses.

“But I–”

“Shut up.” Your tongue runs over his bottom lip and his mind whites out. Every rebuttal fell from his mind, through the floor and into the Earth.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face even closer to yours as he licks into your mouth. With each turn of your heads, your noses brush against one another.

Chan runs his hands down your body and grabs underneath your thighs, picking you up and placing you on the pool table.

Your legs part and he stands in between them, never leaving your lips once.

As he runs his hands up your legs, he squeezes your bare thighs every few inches. It makes your core clench and body tingle.

Your fingers run up through his hair, grabbing tightly and pulling. Chan moans into your mouth and moves his hands to grab at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

“Chan,” you whisper on his lips. He responds with a grunt. “Need you.”

God.

His hands fly to your legs again, grabbing you by the knees, he yanks your hips forward. Your clothed core comes into direct contact with his erection.

“I can give you exactly what you need, baby.” he nips your lip with his teeth. “I can take good care of you, yeah?”

Trailing his fingers up, he toys with the waistband of your shorts. At the same time, he moves his kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back to give him more access.

“Wanna take these off, babygirl?” he moans when you roll your hips into his.

“Yes, please.” you hiss in response.

Lifting your hips, he grabs the fabric and slides it down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with the forgotten pool stick.

Kisses trail lower and lower down your neck as he lowers to the ground.

Chan pulls away to kneel onto the ground.

His eyes are heated and strong when they meet yours. A dark scarlet color covers his cheeks and down his neck, disappearing into his sleeveless shirt.

Both of his hands grab at your thighs when he looks down at your glistening cunt. You’re absolutely soaking wet by now.

Since the moment he helped you line up your shot, you felt your panties dampening.

Wasting no time, Chan leans forward and runs his tongue from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the top, swirling around your clit and sucking gently.

Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, the other rests on the table behind you to keep your balance.

He repeats the action again, this time with more fervor and you squint your eyes shut, head tossing back from the pleasure that rips down your spine like a zipper.

Chan’s hands tighten around your thighs, eyes staring up at you and studying each reaction closely.

You taste so fucking good. He can’t get enough of you. His tongue greedily scoops up your juices, licking around your clit to feel you grind into his face.

His cock throbs with each moan, each whine that makes it through your fingers held tightly over your mouth.

After one long suck on your clit, Chan dips his tongue inside you, licking at your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, the hand over your mouth flies down to grip at his hair.

He can’t help but smirk into your folds.

Every single moan is music to his ears.

Slowly, he inches his fingers over and when he moves his tongue up to your clit, he slides a finger into you, immediately curling it up to hit that spongy spot inside you.

“Jesus fuck–!” you cry out as quiet as you can manage.

It doesn’t slip your mind that you’re quite literally in a house full of relatives who could wake up and come into the front room at any moment and see the two of you.

But the fear just adds an extra layer of arousal to you.

“Does that feel good, babygirl?” Chan mutters into your cunt. “Does it feel good to have my fingers inside you?”

He thrusts his finger in and out slowly, those brown eyes studying you like a predator studies prey.

You bite your lip, eyes closed, and nod your head.

Chan adds a second finger and your head tosses back again. He can feel you clench down hard on his fingers when he licks your clit in long, even strokes.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your body.

“Chan,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby?” he teases, licking up slowly, the pace of his fingers is equally as slow. But, regardless of the pace, he’s still coaxing you towards the edge of an orgasm. It’s building slowly, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.

“Shit,” you buck your hips into his face when he does one particularly hard thrust.

“Use your words, little girl.” He bites your thigh and then goes back to your folds. You clench around him hard at the name.

How are you supposed to use your words when your voice keeps getting caught in your throat? When every time you think you can open your mouth, a sultry moan tumbles out.

“N-Need you,” you manage to strain out.

A devilish smile pulls at his lips. He begins to thrust faster with his fingers, licking your clit quicker.

“Need me?” He asks in between licks. “You need me?”

Veins are popping in your neck from straining to keep your voice down.

“Yes, fuck!” You hiss out. “ I need you.”

In between his legs, Chan can feel his cock weeping with precum. His mind is so clouded with lust he can barely think straight.

Desperately, he wishes that you didn’t have to keep your voice down. He wants to make you scream.

Faster and faster he thrusts and licks at your soaking cunt, greedily tasting your juices.

Your thighs twitch on either side of his head the closer you get to your orgasm.

“Chan,” you grab his attention by yanking on his hair. He grunts and looks up at you through his lashes, lips still devouring you. “Inside, inside. I need your cock inside me.”

Your words go straight to his dick, he licks at your cunt a few more times before standing to his feet quickly to lock your lips together, fingers still buried inside you.

When you taste your own slick on his tongue, your eyes roll back in your head and you clench around him. Chan smirks into the kiss, curling his fingers up.

He’s relentless. Tongue sliding over yours, moans being eaten up by a greedy mouth while his fingers fuck into you.

With more strength than you thought you had, you pry Chan’s lips off yours by pulling his hair back.

“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll pin you down and ride you until your cock can’t cum anymore.”

An exhale is punched from his chest. His mind whites out. Chan’s mouth drops open and his fingers stutter within you.

Did you really just say that? That sounds like a fucking dream.

“Babygirl,” he growls darkly. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

Your eyes darken and you pull his hair again. “Fuck me until I can’t walk, Chris.”

Chan rips his fingers out of your cunt, grabs both of your hips and roughly pulls you off the pool table.

He fists a hand in the back of your hair and spins you around, shoving your head down, bending you over completely.

You’re lucky you had half a mind to put your arms out to rest your weight on your elbows.

Using his one foot, he knocks the inside of yours outwards to spread your legs even more.

“Fucking look at that,” he marvels, running his free hand up your ass and kneading a handful. After a second he reels back and brings his hand down with a painful smack.

Your one hand flies to your mouth to cover the squeak that you make.

“Bent over, soaking wet cunt just fucking waiting to take my cock.” His hand tightens in your hair. The other hand rips his sweatpants down to take his cock out. “What a good girl you are.”

Chan can’t remember a time he’s ever been this hard.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you look back at Chan. His eyes are blown out, lip pulled in a sneer as he fists his cock, staring directly at your fluttering walls clench around nothing.

“You wanna fill me up, Channie?”

His eyes snap up to yours with a predator-like stare. His hand stops pumping his own cock, hell, he even stops breathing.

Chan’s jaw clenches, every ounce of self control is being drained. How much more of this can he fucking take before he passes out?

“What?” His voice is so strained and hoarse.

Your eyes narrow and you wiggle your hips tauntingly. “Come on, Chan.”

Chan’s eyes darken. He fists your hair and shoves your face down on the table and slams his cock inside you.

Your mouth stretches open in a silent scream, but you don’t let the noise make it out of your body.

Chan’s eyes roll to the back. You feel so fucking good.

“Holy shit.” He moans out. “Jesus fuck you’re so fighting tight.”

He wastes no time, pulling his cock out to slam back inside you. Your back arches and hips press into his to meet his thrust.

Each sharp wave of pleasure shoots down your legs and into your toes.

Small gasps and whines make their way through your lips.

Chan leans down, yanking your hair back to pick your head up slightly. His face comes down next to yours.

“You like this, yeah?” He whispers harshly. Thrust after thrust slams against your cervix. “You like when it’s rough?”

Closing your eyes tightly, you keep your mouth shut, trying to nod with his hand so tightly wound in the crown of your hair.

“Better be quiet, then. Don’t want someone coming out and seeing you look like a cum hungry, whore.”

Over and over again he fucks into you.

After one harsh thrust, your mouth drops open and before you can moan loudly, Chan’s free hand covers your mouth tightly.

“Feels that good to have my cock inside you, huh? Can’t control that pretty mouth, you’re so fucked out.”

You whine and nod again. Nails digging into the felt of the pool table underneath you.

Hot, white pleasure is coursing through your veins. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life.

Chan leans down more and bites at the side of your neck, lapping at the skin and leaving small marks that will fade by the morning.

“You’re fucking lucky you have to be in a bathing suit in front of your family tomorrow. Otherwise I would leave my fucking mark all over you.” He bites, but doesn’t suck. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

Another whine is stopped by his hand.

“I have a better idea, babygirl.” He bites your earlobe, pace slowing down within you. Instead, he thrusts deeper, you can practically feel him within your gut. “I’m going to do exactly what you said, yeah? Fill you up? Make that pussy sloppy with my fucking load.”

Your hips jerk back into his to try and encourage him to pick up the pace. Chan only tightens his hold in your hair.

“You’re going to take whatever I give you, every last fucking drop. Even after I pull out, I’ll stuff you with my fucking fingers so nothing gets wasted.”

Arching your back, you press into him more.

“You want that, huh?” He growls, biting your ear. His pace picks up gradually, each thrust rougher and faster than the last. “You want my seed inside you?”

You nod pathetically.

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

His thrusts start growing erratic.

You never expected him to be this talkative during sex. But he hasn’t shut up once.

Another nod accompanied with a whine comes from you. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure.

“Gunna carry my kids, got the fucking perfect hips for it, yeah? You’ll look so fucking hot all pregnant with our kids. Fuck.”

He’s so lost and fucked out, he can’t stop his mouth from running, spewing all his fantasies.

Moving his hand from your mouth, he trails it down to grab at your throat.

“Chan!” You moan out, licking your dry lips.

“Can feel you clenching, babygirl. You gonna cum for me? Gunna cream on my cock? Suck up my cum and hold onto it with this tight fucking pussy?”

“Yes yes yes yes.” You pant over and over again. “Kiss me, kiss me, please”

When you turn your head, your lips smash together.

The coil in your gut is seconds from snapping.

You bite Chan’s lip and pull back.

“Fuck me full, daddy.”

Every muscle in his body tensed and his thrusts turn into something animalistic. The hand in your hair is so tight your scalp is screaming.

“Say it again.”

“Fu-huck,” is all you’re able to manage.

“Say it again.” He barks in your ear. You’re not going to be able sit down tomorrow.

“Daddy.”

A bite to your neck.

“Again.”

“Daddy! Fuck me, daddy!”

“Holy shit.” He whines in your ear. Hearing you say that makes him feel fucking insane. His body is acting on its own.

With a few more thrusts both of you are thrown over the edge at the same time. Your cunt clenching around him so tight, Chan can barely breathe.

His cock spurts and sprays within you, painting your walls white.

Every single sensation feels so good you think you leave for body for a few minutes. Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

His entire body is wrapped around yours. Grunts in your ear keep you grounded.

You feel so full.

Chan came inside you so much that it’s leaking out and dripping down the inside of your legs.

He pants heavily into your ear.

Releasing your neck, he lovingly runs his hand down your side, caressing your hip, massaging circles into the bone.

His hand slides around and cups your lower stomach tenderly.

Slowly, he unwinds his hand from your hair, kissing at the roots he’s been relentlessly pulling on. He scratches and rubs at your scalp to ease the ache.

But still, he hasn’t pulled out.

Chan kisses the top of your head and down to your face, kissing the cheek he’s able to reach.

You can’t catch your breath.

“Y/N,” he whispers into your hair.

You hum back to him, eyes still closed in bliss.

“I love you.”

Your heart jumps in your chest, Chan feels you clench around him.

“I love you too.” It falls from your lips so easily, like it’s been sitting there for so long, just waiting to be heard.

Both of your heads turn to kiss one another.

It’s so ungodly sweet for the events that just took place minutes ago.

His lips are so soft and plush, especially from being swollen from your steamy kisses.

Inside you, you can feel his cock twitch. Is he…?

Breathlessly, you pull away from his sweet kiss.

“Are you still hard?” you pant.

Sheepishly, he smiles and ruts into you. A moan catches in your throat.

“Babygirl, I’ve been waiting for so long to fuck you. It’s going to take a few times before I’m ready to call it a night.”

[doodlenoodleboi]

Sally face head cannons

Authors note: If you don’t specify I’m gonna pick for you most of the time it’s gonna be headcanons, they tend to be easier and quicker to write.

TW: Not professional, might have misspellings and improper grammar, I just do this for fun. Nsfw, mentions of drugs, stoner Larry, Larry is 2 years older then Sal, some non accurate writing I haven’t watched or played Sally face in years but remember the general plot. Btw when this wrote Sal is 17-19

SFW

◦ Sal doesn’t have the best relationship with his father.

◦ Sal tends to get misgendered a lot to the point he doesn’t even correct people he couldn’t care less anyways and hates unnecessary confrontation.

◦ Sal keeps his glass eye on his bedside table and one nice he actually drunk out of the cup.

◦ Sal isn’t the best at saving money when it comes to video games. He doesn’t spend his money on much In high school besides games for his game boy and other systems.

◦ Sal loves rock music and listens to music whenever he can, he owns an old stereo along with a walk man and mp3 player. (Keep in mind his teen years are in the 90’s)

◦ Along with his hair Sal also ventured in make up in skincare.

◦ Because half of his face being disfigured he tried his best to at least look normal with make up and help it heal better with skincare.

◦ Sal has the worst split ends and uneven layers because he never actually had his hair cut properly he always has done it himself.

◦ Sal is rather geeky when it comes down to it, owning as much technology as he could by in the 90’s.

◦ Sal is most comfortable showing his face to Larry among anyone else almost like a big brother to him of sorts.

◦ Sal gets rather socially awkward when it comes to people liking him so you would have to be in his friend group to have a chance of a relationship or some established connection before hand.

◦ Once you and Sal become friends as he’s comfortable with you expect things like him painting your nails and rocking out to music

◦ If he does later show romantic interest in you before he shows you his face he will be anxious about what you’ll think about him after he shows you.

◦ He’ll even teach you how to play his guitar if you’re interested.

NSFW

F

◦ Sal Is obviously a virgin it’s hard to get close to him let alone take of his mask so you’ll have to have patience to get to this stage.

◦ For-play could be longer then the actual sex for the first time and he might back out from nervousness before you guys can even start.

◦ Sal is not a shy guy maybe introverted but not shy but moments like this make him extremely vulnerable so he’s flustered and embarrassed.

◦ If you find the courage to kiss him he has his mask on he’s whipped. He would be a flustered and embarrassed mess and he might even tell Larry about how exciting it was. You were probably his first kiss as well.

◦ Sal would be around 5 inches 5.5 hard (let’s be realistic here ain’t nobody taking much past that.) Just enough to reach the back of you’re and make you gag.

◦ Sal even if he’s isn’t pornhub but still likes to prep you, after all sex is a rather sacred thing so he tries his best to treat you with care even with his inexperience.

◦ He would probably be a nervous teenager at the back of Spencer’s trying to find lube (that doesn’t get used) and other things trying not to be seen. Covering up this purchases with a rock album or something of equal value.

◦ Sal is big on after care asking you how it was if it wasn’t obvious, he would be nervous after and still not realizing he actually did that.

◦ Sal isn’t big on giving hickeys but he doesn’t mind being especially on his jawline and neck. When talking to his friends he will just say it a bruise or injury just that’s always been there. But it’s almost obvious that it’s not.

◦ Once you’ve done it once he’s nervous to ask for you to do it again so he does enjoy make out session to keep him down.

◦ Sal didn’t heavily masturbate before hand honestly rarely doing it at all until he had sex once and now that’s all he thinks about ever since.

◦ He loves laying kisses against you when doing it but never hickeys as he’s a bit scared of hurting you.

◦ He holds your hands during sex for comfortability.

◦ His favorite positions would probably be missionary and cowgirl he’s a pretty vanilla switch.

◦ Mostly a service top and a shy bottom, it’s not like he’s generally shy he just gets embarrassed seeing you on top but overtime he gets used to it.

Sorry i accidentally deleted the request!

[lunajay33]

Waiting🖤

Summary: After decades of being alone without a love of his own he finally finds her in a gloomy town of forks, his brother Edward isn’t the only lucky one

Pairing: Emmett Cullen x f! Swan reader

Warning: angsty, fluffy sunshine Emmett

•Masterlist•

I never thought much about the future until suddenly the friends I adored most started relationships and left me in the past as if our friendship never even mattered, like their boyfriend was the most important thing

My sister and I use to be close as kids but when she moved away with our mom and rarely visited me and dad, who she regularly called Charlie, we grew apart leaving me feeling like I lost all my friends and my sister, after a while I grew depressed and I never wanted to leave the house, dad grew concerned and after many absent calls from school he allowed me to start home schooling myself and my grades have never been better

Most nights it was just me and Charlie some days I’d get the courage to go down to the reserve hang out on the beach with Leah, Seth and Jake, sometimes I’d go for hikes in the forest behind the house just to clear my head, but other than that I’d stay in my room listening to music, reading the books dad would bring home for me, and doing school work

That’s how life was for so many years, it was routine and it never bothered me and dad loved having me around, after Bella and mom left he was so broken and with my help, even as a little girl, I pulled him out of that deep dark hole and he became that Charlie that joked around and made me smile

But then dad got the call that Bella was moving back for the rest of highschool since mom would be traveling with Phil for baseball, hopeful that I could reconnect with my sister again

Dad and I picked out a new bed spread for her hoping she’d love it, and he even let me pick out a new book as a thank you for helping him out with getting everything ready for her arrival, after a few days it was time for dad to go pick Bella up from the airport in port angeles, I was a nervous wreck which was crazy I mean she’s my sister why should I be nervous

Finally the familiar sheriff cruiser pulled up in the drive way, I walked out the door with an umbrella quickly shuffling over to Bella to cover her from the rain knowing how she favoured the warm dry weather, complete opposite of me

“Welcome home Bella!” I smiled as we walked back inside as dad got her bags following closely behind

She shook off her coat and placed her little cactus down on the counter

“You’ve grown so much you’re a year younger but you’re already taller than me” she said as she hugged me

“Come on bells we’ll show you your room!” Dad said as he walked up the stairs with her bags

She settled in for the rest of the day until it was supper time, I set out the table and dished up our meal, dads game playing in the background as we ate

“So are you excited for school on Monday?” I asked

“Not really but atleast I’ll have you there”

“What? No im homeschooled remember”

“Well…..” dad drawled out

“Dad what did you do?” My heart was racing now at the implication

“I thought since Bella’s back now it would be good for you to get out there again, you need some experiences honey”

“But you know I have no one there, no one wants to be friends with me we’ve been over this”

“You might make new friends honey, give give it a chance for your old man” I sighed slumping back in my chair trying to wrap my head around having to socialize again

“Atleast you’ll be with me, dad said since your grades are so good you got bumped up a grade and can have some certain classes together, depending on our courses” that settled my anxiety a little

Bella and dad cleaned up from dinner as I sat out on the porch, in desperate need for fresh air to do its magic, only 2 more days and I’ll be back in a school again, who knows maybe some new kids have arrived and aren’t too set in their groups yet

Monday came quickly and I was a ball of nerves, I glanced in the mirror as made sure my hair was just the way I wanted, wearing a casual outfit, simple flared black leggings, a dark rich blue longsleeve with my old worn out dark brown carhartt jacket, quickly spraying my vanilla perfume

I walked down stairs to meet Bella in the kitchen, she grabbed an apple as she picked up her backpack from the table

“Are you ready to go?” She asked

“Almost can I make a tea quickly?” She nodded and I quickly wiped together a chai tea latte, grabbing my lunch from the fridge and meeting her in the truck dad had gotten for us but since I didn’t have my license, seeing as I never needed one before now, she would be driving us

The drive to school was calming, hearing the steady rain fall against the windshield, pulling into the parking lot everyone stared until we got out, I kept my eyes down as Bella led me to the schools main office

“Okay here’s your schedule, we have math together at the end of the day, the bells about to ring so I gotta head to world history are you good to find your way to chemistry?”

“Oh ummm yeah I’ll be fine”

“Okay see you at lunch” she smiled gently before she left down the hall

Looking at my schedule I memorized the room number hoping it wouldn’t be too hard to find, turning the corner I rammed into what felt like a brick wall, dropping my books I look infront of me to see the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen, his eyes a golden amber, hair as dark as night and his skin as pale as snow

“Sorry about that, I haven’t seen you around before” he said soothingly as he handed me the books that had momentarily scattered the floor, not even realizing he had picked them up, too busy oogling him I suppose

“Oh yeah I’m just re-enrolling here again, just trying to find my class” he looked down at my schedule a striking smile adorning his face

“Come this way gorgeous, got the same class” walking along the mostly bare hallways I noticed his gentle glide, I’ve never seen such a…..well such a perfect human, obviously I was way out of my league if I could think he’d ever be interested in me, I mean I’m plain and simple what would he ever see in me, best I stay in my lane, but dad did want me to make friends so that couldn’t hurt….right?

We got to the classroom and the teacher assigned us to sit together, the class went by pretty boring, every now and then I’d take glances at Emmett and I swear he did the same but he was probably just looking at someone else, moments like this made me wish I was a beautiful as my sister, she never had a problem with guys wanting her, they basically drooled over her, even if she never acted on any offers she was still wanted

It felt like I was a living ghost most days, no one noticed me anywhere I’d go, a big reason I wanted to be homeschooled, now I’m thrown back into this miserable place, I’ll bet by lunch time Bella with have a table full of new friends while I sit alone, not even a second glance from anyone

Lunch time rolled around and as I entered the cafeteria I searched for Bella and just as I guessed she was surrounded with bright smiles, excited to get to know her, she glanced my way and I waved hoping she’d wave me over to sit but she just gave a half assed smile and got back to talking with her new friends, I felt my heart rip at that, thinking things would be different this time with her here but I guess I was wrong

I found an empty table near the windows and made myself comfortable for another lonely lunch, I pulled out my bag from my backpack but my appetite was lost and I had no desire to eat so I just pushed my lunch to the side and looked out the window just wanting to go home

{Emmett’s POV}

I couldn’t get her out of my head, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and her blood sings to me, when she bumped into me in the hallway I felt my whole world shift, she didn’t talk much but just being near her felt right

Lunch came, my least favourite part of the day, having to pretend for an hour, I glanced around the cafeteria hoping to catch a glimpse of my mate again, my eyes landed on her sat alone looking glum a few tables down, the others followed my gaze and smiled knowingly

“Who’s she?” Rosalie asked

“I think she’s my mate”

“Her thoughts are overwhelming loud” Edward stated

“What do you mean?” I asked nervously

“She’s not the happiest girl, I can hear how depressed she is, how unwanted she feels”

“I can feel how broken her heart is” Jasper added

This has to be the worst feeling knowing the one I’m suppose to love unconditionally and she is quite perfect in my eyes, has been broken and feels unloved

I got up from the table and made my way to her sliding in the seat across from her, her eyes were so glazed over with sadness she didn’t even realize I sat down

{Normal pov}

“So how’s your first day?” I jumped snapping out of my thoughts noticing Emmett is sat across from me

“Oh sorry I didn’t see you, ummm today has been fine I guess, thanks again for helping me earlier”

“It’s not problem, umm I was wondering maybe if you’re not too busy this weekend if you’d wanna hang out?” My heart raced at this

“Really? You wanna hang out with me?”

“Yeah of course, who would wanna spend time with the most beautiful girl in the school” his smile warmed my heart but quickly faded at a realization

“Is this a prank, because if it is it’s cruel” I said as my bottom lip wobbled

“No what? I would never do something like that I really wanna get to know you, so how about after school on Friday I’ll meet you in the parking lot and we can go do something?”

“Okay……sure id really like that” his face beamed with excitement

“Perfect it’s a date then gorgeous”

This felt surreal there’s no way there wasn’t a catch here, how could someone wanna spend their free time with me, but like Charlie said it doesn’t hurt to try, I just hope this doesn’t break my heart more

Part 2