#the way they just hold each other and look into each others eyes 😭

[archangeldyke-all]

i had a crazy thought–imagine sevika's wife saying something that annoys/peeves her just a tiny bit and ceo!sevika doing the most over the top thing the next second.

imagine they live in a huge expensive modern penthouse and sevika's wife says "how come we live in the same house but we don't see each other?" and on the next day sevika is already taking her around to go see houses for sale 😭😭

or when her wife trips over the huge glass coffee table in the middle of the living room, and it's gone in the next hour and replaced by a smaller, cuter coffee table

i just wanna see sevika simping for her wife pls im begging i think she's so so cute 😭😭😭 like a grizzly bear 😭😭😭

this is like the epitome of ceo sevika i love her so fucking much

men and minors dni

you shouldn't be surprised.

this has been happening long before you and sevika were even dating, back when you were just assistant.

you can still remember the first time sevika did this to you. you ran into the office, discombobulated and late, worried that sevika would be upset.

she wasn't upset, though. it was the oppisite. she sighed in relief the moment you walked through the door wrapping you up in a hug. "fuck, i was worried you'd been carjacked on your way here! i can't lose you. not before the board meeting."

you laughed and relaxed in her arms, breathing in her expensive cologne. "sorry. my phone is fucking ancient and can't hold a charge anymore-- it died overnight and my alarm didn't go off."

"hmm." she'd said. at the time, you thought that was it.

then you got home that night, and found three brand new cell phones sitting on your doorstep.

you blinked down at the boxes, confused. a small envelope caught your eye, and you picked it up, flipping it open.

pick your favorite. -s.

the extravagance only grew once you got together.

"ugh, my back is killing me." you complained one morning.

"'s wrong?" sevika asked, a worried look in her eye. you shrug.

"think i pulled something yesterday while restocking the cabinets above the copier." you say.

that night, you pout in confusion as sevika takes the wrong exit off the highway. "where're we going?"

"you'll see."

"awe, sevika, i can't do a date night tonight baby, i feel like shit."

"it's not a date. well, it sorta is... just trust me, okay?" she'd asked. you nodded.

"of course."

sevika pulled the car into a spa parking lot. you frowned. "spatopia? aren't they closed this late?"

"i made a few calls for us." she said with a shrug, kissing you over the center console and then hopping out of the car. she ran around the car, pulling open your door and walking you to the store front.

two hours and two couples' deep tissue massages later; you were both too relaxed to drive home and you had to call an uber. it was one of the nicest gifts of your life.

now that you're married, it's only gotten worse.

you make a passing comment about your couch being stiff, and sevika's taking you furniture shopping that weekend.

you trip over a (incredibly expensive) persian rug in sevika's study more than once and she's rolling it away and buying one that doesn't snag your toes.

you once complained about the lack of legroom in her fucking porsche, so she bought you an suv. she's fucking insane.

and now she's done something truly crazy.

"you bought us a fucking house!?" you squawk. sevika shrugs with a smile. "sevika, we have a house!"

"we have a penthouse. penthouses don't have gardens. you want a garden."

"wh-- i do?!" you ask. sevika laughs.

"yeah, you do. remember? you told me on our first date what your dream house would be. you said something with charm, something you could make your own, something with a yard big enough for a garden and some pets."

the memory is so distant and blurry to you-- at the time you'd mostly just been talking out of your ass and fantasizing. but sevika remembered. because she's incredible.

"y-you're fucking insane." you cry. sevika smiles.

"good or bad?"

"sevika." you break down in tears, wrapping your arms around your wife. she laughs against you, rubbing your back. "y-you can't just buy a house without asking your wife!" you scold. she giggles.

"most people can't-- but we've got the money for it. i could buy you a dozen houses if you wanted."

"no!" you squeak. she laughs. you rip out of her arms to glare up at her. "you have got to stop doing this shit sevika, you're gonna give me a heart attack eventually!"

"you're gonna have a heart attack when you see the main bath in this place." she whispers with a sweet, excited smile. you burst into laughter and pull her in for a kiss. "if you hate it we can just put it back on the market, y'know." she mumbles. you snort.

"well... at least let me see the place first."

sevika grins, big and wide. you shake your head at her, in love and endlessly endeared by her. "i love you. i'd spoil you in any life, but i'm glad in this one i got the money to treat you the way you really deserve." she says.

you sigh dreamily and cup her face. "please tell me there's already a bed in there."

"...yeah, why?" sevika asks. you grin.

"i'm gonna ride you until you're paralyzed from the waist down, baby. c'mon. show me around my new house." you request, tugging sevika into the house by her tie.

sevika follows you with a dopey smile and hearts in her eyes.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[princesssarahblog]

bad habits - series - part 2

boyfriend!jj maybank x girlfriend!fem!reader

summary: 3 days pass and jj starts missing you. blonde boy tries to talk to you at school but you ignore him. he asks his friends pogues for advice to apologize to you. It seems he is serious about giving up his bad habits.

warnin: angst (happy ending), ignoring (reader ignor jj), plan

author notes: paaaaart 2 🤙🤙🤙 I think that jj in my fanfic is too soft and not canon, I don't like it. I will try to respect his character 😭😭😭

other chapters: part 1

「3 days passed」

silence. jj walks down the school corridors and suddenly hears the quiet sound of heels in front of him. he immediately understands who it is. looking at you, he sees how you calmly walks ahead looking down and holding your bag tightly on your shoulder.

he decides to talk to you after 3 days

jj's heart immediately started beating faster as he saw your walking in front of him. It's been 3 days without talking to each other and it little by little drove him crazy. he immediately started walking faster so that he could walk next to you.

"hey."

he said as he stood in front of you, stopping you from walking. he desperately wanted to look at you and see what you was thinking

he looked at your face carefully. you kept your eyes on the floor. jj really missed you, he really wanted to just hug you but he knew he couldn't.

"I missed you.."

he muttered under his breath, trying not to sound desperate

only with you he showed his true personality, not just a mischievous and constantly cheerful guy pouge.. he showed his true self, wounded and traumatized.. and only you were able to help him.

"uh.. I'm busy, sorry.." you doesn't take your eyes off the floor and walks past jj, you leaves quickly and disappears quickly.. as if you was never there. "I need time" - these words constantly circled in jj's head, you're not ready yet..

jj's heart sank as you walked past him, leaving him standing in the hall by himself. he gritted his teeth and gripped the straps of his backpack tighter.

"damn it.."

he mumbled under his breath. you clearly didn't want to talk to him, it drove him crazy.

「another boring school day」

the rest of the day passed, as usual, jj was trying his best to focus on something. absolutely anything, just not to remember you and your ignoring and those same painful words that hurt him so much, but the only thing he could think about was you.

「he need plan」

jj decided to ask his friends for advice and he needed their help with you. when he arrived at the shate, he saw absolutely everyone gathered. john b was hugging sarah, kiara was talking to pope about some botanical crap.

"guys.. I have problem" - muttered jj, everyone looked up at him. kie spoke first

"typicall to you," the brunette girl chuckled, and jj rolled his eyes at that.

"is that the problem with her, huh jj?" john b spoke up, he immediately understood what problems his friend had and he felt sorry for him. john b had faced this himself, he swore to himself that he would never hurt sarah again.

"oh, hurting your girlfriend is so.. bad," pope muttered, trailing off at the end to find the right word.

"hey! I did not hurt her, we're just taking a break right now. but it's killing me! I don't know what to do.."

jj flopped down on the couch. this 'taking a break' was killing him. he wanted to talk to you, just even look at you again. but you avoided him whenever you could.

pope, john b, sarah, and kiara sat all around jj, trying to find a way to help him. they all exchanged glances, trying to think of a solution

"you need to do something romantic for her."

kie finally spoke up, a smile appearing on her face

jj looked at her for a moment, thinking about her words

"like what? there's gotta be something I can do."

he looked at the others, hoping for an idea. he was literally ready to do anything just to get you back. you were the only girl from all his affairs that jj didn't want to lose, you were too dear to him.

"oh i have a plan we can decorate the chateau hang garlands everywhere and use the "cat's ass" romantic setting and all that, you can offer her fruits and have a heart to heart talk with her i will call her to come here under the pretext that something happened" - sarah suddenly said. john b was so proud of her and her intelligence

john b and pope nodded in agreement, that was a really good plan. It actually had a chance of working

"that's actually a really good idea."

jj nodded, he could already imagine it in his head. he had a feeling it would work, he was finally hopeful again

"oh and most importantly.." sarah looked around at the others, everyone understood her look and what it was saying

"tell her you quit your bad habits!" all the guys simultaneously said this to jj's face. they don't like what he does either. honestly, it's little scared jj.

jj's face froze, of course they would ask something like that from him. when it came to bad habits, they always said he needed to quit. nut when it came to his relationship, they immediately took his side

"uhh.. quit?"

he mumbled, all the pogues nodded and looked at him seriously.

he knew he could not agree to it, but the only chance of you coming back was agreeing to stop, so he nodded in agreement

"ah, no alcohol is allowed on your date. i hope you're sober now, j?" - john b said seriously looking at his friend

jj nodded again and sighed

"I am."

he didn't mind not having alcohol, even though that stuff was hard to pass up. plus, he needed a clear mind to talk to you

"oh, the best gift for her! burn the cigarettes and weed right in front of her. she will be proud of you, because you did it yourself and refused." - said pope

other pogues nodded and agreed with pope. that's exactly what you wanted, you always wanted jj to quit his bad habits, but he never wanted to. but now, he was ready to do it all just for you. his love.

"okay, I'll burn them"

he mumbled, he knew he had to show you that he was serious

"well, the operation to save the relationship begins right now." - kie said with a smile, and everyone agreed looking at each other

everyone immediately got up from their seats and began preparing for the plan, gathering decoration items. john b and pope went to the kitchen to prepare fruit and food, while kie and sarah went outside to prepare the garden

"ah.. this better work"

jj muttered to himself as he got up and walked to his room, where he kept the cigs and weed

「jj has a hope」

[arislary]

Nipping At Your Nose - Han Jisung x f!reader Oneshot

Synopsis: You're spending the holidays at the club with your roommate and things take a turn for the best when you meet the blue-haired bartender who turns out to be more than what you expected.

Or Han Jisung as Jack Frost a.k.a. club owner

Pairing: Jack Frost/Club Owner!Han Jisung x f!reader (1st POV)

Genre: s2l, fluff, smut, mythical characters

Warning: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (wrap up!), biting kink, sexual assault (reader is groped and handles her own), weed consumption, alcohol consumption, temperature/ice play (but not what you would think), nipple play, blowjob/handjob, pussy eating, squirting, slight foot fetish (Jisung just likes her socks), I probably most definitely missed some warnings so just let me know!

WC: 16k

A/N: I totally meant for this to have been posted for Christmas, but who am I kidding, it got away from me! EXTREMELY UNEDITED, but Han Jisung's blue hair is wrecking me and I needed to write about him immediately. Again I can't emphasize enough how unedited this is, so I am so sorry, I literally could not stop writing 😭 There's also a small part of me that wants to write all the members as their characters, but that would so much, unless.. IDK you tell me! Also if you want to see more Jack!Jisung, requests are open ☺️

Masterlist

Taglist: @hanji-coffee, @inlovewithstraykids, @xgridx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I tapped the bar as I threw the shot back, holding in from making a face as I brought the lime to my lips. I turned to my right grinning as Damian glared at me as he sucked on his lime. I had convinced him to come out as a celebration for finishing the week and celebrating the holiday season. With Christmas being tomorrow, this had been the only club we could find that was open. We had both started new jobs at the beginning of the month and had finally found the time to celebrate our accomplishments. Even as roommates, we barely saw each other with how much work we did. 

On top of the fact that this would be my second year spending Christmas after having been no-contact with my family. A distraction was a must. I went out of my way to make the holiday special for myself and refused to allow the lack of family stop me from treating myself and those I loved. Damian had decided to spend the holiday in the states rather than go home to visit his parents in Australia as he normally did.  

“Literally so many different ways we could be celebrating,” Damian groaned, head falling back as he leaned away from me. A laugh bubbled from my lips as I called out to the bartender to request another round of drinks. 

The original bartender, a cute muscular man, who had been serving us was now occupied with patrons on the otherside of the bar and turned to the man squatting next to him that had just come from their backrooms. I watch the two converse before the man squatting stands up to come over to us and suddenly I’m greeted with wide brown eyes, blue hair, and chubby cheeks. 

I felt myself pause as I took in the good-looking man in front of me. His black long-sleeve shirt was loose around his frame, rolled at the sleeves. He had one gold chain hanging from his neck and various rings and earrings decorating his person. My eyes watched as he rubbed his hands on the rag that had been hanging on his shoulder. His very veiny hands at that. My eyes stuck to the way his long fingers clenched around the towel. I felt my mouth start to salivate the longer I stared. His eyebrow raised as I stayed silent longer, glancing over to Damian who looked ready to burst out laughing. 

Damian shoved an elbow into my side, causing me to flinch and sit upright in my chair. I stared wide-eyed at the bartender, my brain coming to a complete stop. 

“I wanna hold your hand-”

Girl. 

“NO! I mean-“ my hand shot out in front of me, shaking at him, other hand covering my mouth in disbelief. Damian shook in chair, practically falling out of it from how hard he was laughing. The bartender’s smirk stretched into an amused smile, his hands now coming to rest on the bar as he let out a huff of laughter. “Can I please get a rum and coke?” 

I mumble out my order, my eyes refusing to leave the bar-top as Damian continued to laugh, attempting to give his own order. As soon as the grinning bartender walks away to make our drinks, I turn to the ‘Brutus’ sitting next to me, taking my turn to shove an elbow into Damian’s ribs now, hissing in his ear. 

“Thanks for the help, ass!”

He yelped and rubbed at his side, eyes narrowing at me, but the smirk on his face gave him away. 

“It didn’t look like you needed my help with how you practically shoved his pants down and started to suck his d-“

“Alright, I have a ‘Manhattan’ for the gentleman and-“ the “too-cute-for-his-own-good” bartender returned with our drinks laying them down in front of us one by one. “A rum and coke for my new favorite customer.”

He shot me a wink as I sputtered reaching to grab my drink, fingers barely grazing his. I jumped a bit, quickly bringing the drink up to my lips, straw bumping my top one before making it into my mouth. Way to go, ________, way to go. 

The bartender leans forward, hand outstretched towards me. His shoulders and arms seeming so big, making a flash of heat go through me. My eyes dart from his hand back to his face, stopping once, several times, at his lips. 

“You said you wanted to hold my hand right?” 

More like put your fingers in my mouth, but sure. 

The heat rose to my face, blooming from my chest upwards. I watched as his eyes flashed down, to look at my barely covered tits, the red halter lace connected by two rhinestone hearts at the center. I had chosen to pair the top with a white layered mini skirt that had a small bow in the middle. His eyes lazily going up my body from what he was able to see. I could feel the heat in me grow further and I turn to Damian, shooting up from my seat. 

“Let’s go dance!” 

“But we -“ I grabbed his arm, dragging him behind me, shooting one last glance towards the bar to see the hot man still gazing at me, the smile on his face growing, crinkling his eyes. I quickly turn back around, chugging at my drink, trying my hardest to ignore the burning in my cheeks. 

I face Damian once we hit the dance floor, the sea of bodies pushing us close together and forcing us to hold our drinks in front of our chests. Damian began to sway, his head bobbing to the music as he took meager sips. I, on the other hand, had finished my drink, glass empty in one hand as I began to move my hips to the music. I could feel Damian shuffling closer, swaying his hips in time with mine. I felt Damian take the empty glass from my hands, moving to an empty cocktail table to set them aside. 

My gaze trails across the club, moving towards the bar where I am met with those brown orbs once more. I paused in my dance, eyes not wavering as we held contact. A body stepped in front of me, a man with a hopeful grin as he grabbed my hand to pull me closer. My eyes flashed to behind his shoulder where the blue-haired bartender continued to stare, his eyes with a challenging glint in them. I glanced to my right to see Damian had been pulled into by what appeared to be a bachelorette group. I turn back to the guy in front of me, stepping to the side, so that I would see the bar in my peripheral. 

I turned my back to him, pressing up against his front, swaying my hips sensually to the music, hands moving up my body as his moved to my waist to pull me back against him. My head turned to see him still watching. A smirk on his face as he conversed with another patron. I felt my breath stutter as he continued to work, appearing unaffected. 

It wasn’t an outright rejection, but the possibility of him being apathetic almost had me feeling embarrassed. I focus back dancing with the man who clearly seemed interested in me, albeit slightly more handsy than I was okay with it, but it was something I was letting slide, fuck it, it’s Christmas. Several times throughout our dancing, I had to move his hands back down to rest on my hips, him sending me a fake apology every time his fingers grazed the outside of my tit through my shirt or trying to slip his fingers under my skirt. However after I felt another rough grab at my ass, I had enough. I prepared to leave his hold when the music abruptly changed to an all to familiar song, freezing me in my spot as I listened. 

Yeah, uh-huh

Yeah, yeah

My eyes flashed towards the bar, my mouth gaping open as I found him already looking. 

Broke up with my girl last night so I went to the club (So I went to the club)

I snorted, hand flying to my mouth as his eyes flashed with amusement. The man behind me remained oblivious to our interaction, hand coming up to rest on my stomach and leaning down to whisper in my ear. I turn my head, looking away from him to focus again back on the handsy guy behind me. 

“You’re so hot,” I restrain myself from gagging, biting my lip to stop the laugh from escaping and lay a hand on top of his arm to prevent it from getting further. The ick had long settled in and I had already regretted letting him dance on me. 

“Thank you,” I say back, ready to disentangle myself from when he held on even tighter. My eyes widened in surprise, head flashing to the side. 

“You have to realize what you’ve been doing?” He suddenly pressed forward, pressing a very obvious erection against my ass. I gasped and tried to turn in his hold again. 

“I’m done dancing, let go of me.” 

“The way you were dancing on me tells me differently,” one of his hands moved up, grazing underneath my tit over my shirt. Oh hell no!  I gaped and slammed my heeled boot down on his shoe finally causing him to release his hold as he yelled out in pain. He crouched down to hold his foot as I whirled around, hands falling to my hips as I glared down at him. 

“I wasn’t dancing for you, fucking pervert,” he straightened up, immediately crowding into me. I stumbled back a few steps, not having been prepared, eyes still blazing in fury. My back was suddenly pressed against someone’s chest, a very cold chest.

I like the bartender (oh, if you’re lookin’ for me)

I’m at the bar with her (Oh oh oh uh-huh, okay)

His hands hold onto my elbows, thumbs rubbing circles into the inside of them. The smell of woods and chestnuts? surrounded me as the chest behind me vibrated with anger.

“He’s banned, take his ID down and kick him out.”

The man spit on the floor near us, leaving me to flinch back against the chest behind. My eyes flashed upwards to meet the brown orbs that had been watching me all night, softening once they made eye contact with mine. 

“That bitch started it, the fucking slut was asking-“

He hadn’t been able to finish his sentence before a fist flew forward and slammed into his cheek. The security guard, dressed in a black ensemble with the only color coming from a Santa hat on his head, that had thrown the punch, cracked his neck to the side and hauled the man back to his feet. I watched with a scowl on my face, crossing my arms, what a fucking asshole and during Christmas! 

“Thanks, Chan,” the security guard or Chan nodded towards us and sent a wink my way as he led the perv out. My eyes flashed to the owner of the deep voice behind me, taking him in up close again. 

“I’m ______,” I interrupt him the second I noticed his mouth open. He stopped, mouth still open as he tilted his head. He laughed his hand grabbing mine to shake it. 

“That’s a pretty name,” I nodded my head, hand still holding onto his hand, his very veiny hand. He pulled me closer by my hand, kissing my knuckles. “I’m Jisung, now come on, Sweetness.”

My hand engulfed by his, pulls me towards the backrooms, up a small staircase. My eyes stay fixated on the man leading me. His blue hair shining under the lights of the club and added festive lights. We reached a dark hallway, him leading me further towards the last room. Each door we passed contained a symbol on it, I was able to make out a top hat, an Easter egg, and a clock before we stopped in front of a door with a silver snowflake. 

As Jisung unlocks the door, I realize I should feel scared or at least cautious by the fact that a stranger was leading me away, but as he looked back towards me, eyes still soft, all other thoughts left, only he remained. Scurrying a few steps to be in stride with him, bringing his hand up to my lips to press a kiss. His lips stretching into a smile as he opens a door to an office space completely decked out in Christmas decorations. 

I gasped and walk into the room, eyes trying to take it all in. The office didn’t look like a typical office, rather more of a game room, with a couch and tv on one side and more of a library space on the other. A tree stood in the middle, multi-colored lights and what looked like personal ornaments. 

“Jisung, this is beautiful,” the door shuts behind him as he walks toward to the small bar behind the couch. He smiles watching me, hands laying on the counter top. I turn towards him, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. He watched me with dark eyes, the desire evident in them. I suddenly felt naked, yet not in a way that made me want to hide away. 

My eyes flashed towards the coffee table and I gasped, my feet immediately leading me towards it. 

“You were holding out on me!” I pulled off my boots, the grinch ankle socks making themselves known. I heard a strangled sound me behind me as I sank down onto the plush couch. My head whipped around to see Jisung’s head thrown back, eyes closed and jaw clenched. I realized how rude that could have been, I knowing first hand how specific I was with sharing my weed. I turned to face him, sitting on my knees, hands coming to rest on the back of the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I should have asked first or let you offer, that was rude of me.”

His eyes opened, head moving to look at me. He took in my position and groaned once again, leaning now on his forearms, head falling to touch the counter. 

“Sweetness,” I shivered at the nickname and shuffled closer to him. I reached out, hand hesitant in mid-air before coming to rest on the top his hair, fingers running through the blue strands. The moan that left him came from deep within his chest as I lightly dragged my nails through the locks. 

He lifted his head up slowly, my hand slowly falling to rest on the side of his neck. His eyes met mine, swiftly standing up and striding to round the couch to meet me. He sits next to me, hands moving to the rolling tray, papers, and grinder that lay there. He took in a deep breath, as his hands began to empty the grinder to roll a blunt. 

I moved in my seat, tucking my legs to the side as I leaned my hands on my knees.

“Do I make you nervous, Jisung?” 

His eyes glanced towards me before taking another look at how much closer I got. His eyes went wide, dropping the blunt and some of the weed he had already began to sprinkle on top back on the tray. 

“N-no,” I hummed and sat back, eyes glancing away down at his hands. 

“Oh-“ he didn’t turn back to begin rolling yet, eyes remaining on me. “You make me nervous.”

I look towards him, meeting his eyes to find the surprise there. I couldn’t help the smirk that came onto my face as I pushed against his shoulder with my hand. “Okay, not too much now, it was obvious.”

He smiled wide at me, head dropping forward as he chuckled. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a deep blush on his face. 

“You- uh- definitely make me nervous, but more about what you could do to me,” he turned back to the tray, his hands resuming their task to finish rolling the blunt. My legs move to place my feet back on the floor. A hand falls on my left foot before it could hit the floor and maneuvered my legs to go over his thigh, my legs falling in between his. My feet rubbing at his calves. 

“Are you gonna ask me what I want for Christmas now, Santa?” I whisper into his ear. The desire growing further inside of me.

His eyes flicker over to me as he brings the blunt to his lips, letting tongue come out to lick at the leaf. My eyes follow the movement of his tongue as his fingers continued to roll it back up. He reached out the hand holding the blunt towards me, eyes expectant. 

“Depends, have you been naughty or nice?”

I leaned forward, my tongue coming out to run right where his had. I maintained eye contact with him, eyes drooling with want for each other. He pulled it back as my legs squeezed the thigh under me. He hissed and tapped a hand against my thigh, smirking as I giggled and fell into his side. 

“Yea, definitely naughty, Sweetness,” his fingers reached down to tickle at my foot. “Might have to give you a new nickname.”

He finished closing the blunt reaching over to grab the lighter. As he lit it, his eyes felt shut and his neck went back as he re-inhaled the smoke through his nose. I gulped watching his throat bob, his fingers holding the blunt nonchalantly. He reopened his eyes and made contact with me as he exhaled the smoke. 

He held the blunt out to me and I stared at him for a second, the temptation inside of me growing. I wrapped my lips around the blunt, taking a long drag. My lips pressing against the pads of fingers. I closed my eyes willing myself to ignore the slick beginning to pool in my underwear. Anxious he’ll begin to feel it through his slacks. I shifted in my seat, pulling away from the blunt as I exhaled the smoke through my nose. 

I opened my eyes to find his boring into mine. I pursed my lips, trying to hold back my pleased smile. I leaned back my seat, pushing the blunt back towards his lips. 

“So you’re not just the bartender then?”

His tongue came out to lick his lips as he took a hit himself, holding it towards me again. He smirked at my question and shrugged his shoulders. 

“You could say that,” I pouted and sniffed, to hold the smoke in for a bit longer. I pursed my lips to the side to exhale and looked off to the side. 

“Then would you say you’re the owner?” 

“That’s right, Sweetness, although it’s not just me,” he took a hit, leaning back against the couch, bringing the ashtray with him and handing it to me. I scooted closer to him, legs curling up more in his lap as he continued to hold the blunt up for us to take hits off of. 

The further down the blunt became the closer the two of us sat, the more the conversation deepened. It was odd to find myself sharing of more about myself, the fears of the new job, what it could mean for me in the future. He shared of his friend group, the group as I’ve come to learn that are all part owners of the club or have a role to serve. My head now leaning on his shoulder, his free hand resting on my thigh, fingers reaching in the inside of my thighs. 

“What made you stay open for Christmas? Did the holly jolly man inspire you?”

He snorted and shrugged his shoulders as he laid the roach in the ashtray, grabbing it from my hands to put it back on the table. He settled back down, his hand coming back to rest on my thigh. His eyes have a glint to them that I can’t quite put my finger on. 

“Please, as if he could make any of the club decisions, he’s too busy with his list all the time,” Jisung grumbled, a pout making it’s way on his lips. 

“You’re right, how could I compare you to that old man?” Jisung nodded as I placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face down to look at me. “Besides, if I’m being completely honest, I’ve always been more into Jack Frost anyways.”

Jisung stills underneath me, the hand he had on my thigh, clenching. My own hand stills on cheek, nervous that I may have said something wrong. 

“I’m actually Jack Frost,” his hand squeezes my thigh and an unreadable emotion enters his eyes as he stares at me. Interesting. A beat passes before he clears his throat. “Hence the hair,” he pointed a finger up towards the blue locks. I reached up to tug one of the strands, biting my lip. 

“I’ve always had a biting kink,” deciding to play along with his joke. 

Jisung and I blinked at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. My face turned, nose pressing into his chest as we laughed against the other. Jisung’s laugh filled my ears and it became a sound I wanted to hear again and again. I leaned back from him, finally calming down form the laughing fit. He met my eyes and brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, fingers gliding down the side of my neck. 

“We’ll have to test that theory some other time then,” he hummed more to himself than to me. His eyes staring hard at the juncture between my neck and shoulder, thumb pressing in. I leaned back into him, his hand falling to rest around my shoulders as I laid my head on his. 

“I don’t know honestly,” Jisung sighed as he started to answer my initial question. “I just realized that some people don’t always have it to spend it with and that… fucking sucks. So why not just be open?” he trailed off, head dipping back to lay on the couch. I shifted my head up to look at him, my breath catching at his response. “Besides, I’m with my best friends anyways, that’s all matters to me.”

My eyes ran down his face, taking in the blue of his hair against his honey skin. The cupid’s bow of his lips with the slight 5 o’clock shadow framing them. I turned my gaze down to the hand that rested on my thigh, not noticing as he turned to face me. 

“And to think if I hadn’t been open for such a holiday, I wouldn’t have met you, Sweetness,” my eyes move up his body to meet his again, taking in the way the smirk plays at his lips, but his eyes. His eyes tell me so much more. I couldn’t help, but become overwhelmed with the urge to hold this man’s hand and never let it go. Already knowing the warmth it would provide me, creating a longing inside, that I never knew existed. 

I looked away from him, towards the clock he had above the television flashing 12:25. 

I gasped sitting up, whirling around to face Jisung. 

“Fuck, it’s Christmas already! Damian! Fuck me, man, I’m the worst!” 

I scrambled up from where I practically sat on his lap, trying to tug on my boots. Jisung was quick to stand with me, hands falling on my hips as I struggled to get my shoes on. 

“Wait, Sweetness,” Jisung guided me to sit back down, kneeling before me as his hands tugged my boots from my hands. I looked at him, mouth opening ready to argue with him. “Would you want to invite him back here?”

I paused in my movements, staring up at him in surprise. 

“I-“ I looked all over his face, trying to something to tell me what he was thinking. I felt slightly dumbfounded that he was ready to invite my friend back into the intimate environment we had created. The pleading in his eyes became apparent as his hands moved to my feet, pressing into the soles. “Jisung.”

I mumbled his name, hands coming to run up his muscular arms up to his shoulders. He moved closer, his noses brushing against mine. 

“You just stay in here and I can go get him,” his hands moved up from my feet to my calves, fingers still digging in to massage the muscles. I felt myself become like putty in his hands, melting further into his touch. “You can roll another joint if you want and I know some of the guys would be willing to come join, we’ll celebrate all together, hmm?” 

I was nodding my head before he finished, squeezing his shoulders with each word that passed through his lips. Something about the way he phrased it, it seemed like he was begging me to stay, not wanting this moment between us to end. 

“Will you come back?”

He snorted, his head dipping forward, his hair brushing the skin left exposed by my shirt. I heaved in a breath as he raised his head again, a wide smile present. 

“Sweetness, I’d be a fool to leave my favorite customer alone-“ I blushed as his hand moved up to grab a hold of mine. “And, who’s gonna hold your hand if I’m not here?”

“Jisung!” I pushed him off, laughing and trying to tug my hand out of his hold. “You’re so-“

“So?” He eggs me on, crowding up in my face, eyes comically wide. “Funny? Amazing? Pretty?”

“Annoying,” I state flatly, finger coming up to flick his forehead. Jisung yelps, hand coming up to rub at the spot. He playfully glowers at me, fingers flying forward to dig into my sides. 

“Yah! You’re not being very nice! And on Christmas!” He mocked gaped at me as I flew into a fit of laughter, tears forming at my eyes. “I might have to tell Santa, you don’t even realize the sway I have, precious!”

“Ji-“ I shrieked further, Jisung moving to a standing position over me, continuing his assault at my waist. His smile wide as he took me in underneath him. “Spare me!”

He finally released me, hands falling on either side of the couch as leaned over me. I gasped for air, smiling wildly up at him, trying to calm the racing of my heart. He pressed his lips quickly against my forehead before standing straight and walking towards the door. 

“I’ll be back, Sweetness, stay put,” he pointed a finger at me and I mock saluted him, winking. 

“You got it, Mr. Frost!” He paused by the door, eyes flashing to me with an intensity that had me freezing. I bit my lip, clenching my thighs as a pit of desire blooms from my core, shivering as it felt like the room’s temperature dropped. 

“Behave.” 

The door closed behind him and I released a breath, falling back against the couch. 

“What the fuck?” I sat back up, eyes trailing along the room, finding what looked like another door. I turned back towards the coffee table when I suddenly remembered my phone. I shrieked, hands flying to my tits to grab at them and then down to my stomach, hips and butt. 

“Ah, fuck me, man!” I stomped my foot, slapping myself on my forehead. “Way to be distracted by some dick, _____, ugh you bitch,” I slip my boots back on, trudging to the door. Just as my hand reached for the handle, it swung open to present Damian. 

“Yah!” I jumped back as he approached, expression angry. My eyes widen and I put my hands up in surrender.

“Listen to me! Listen to me! Let me tell you something first!” I am barely able to register the three other men walking into the room as Damian grabbed my arm and yanked me towards him, pulling me in for a hug, but it’s more of a chokehold.

“I was so worried! One second you’re there and the next you’re gone, and suddenly your Bartender is asking me to come with to a backroom! You can’t leave me alone! And on my first Christmas!”

“It’s not your first Christmas-“

“My first AmericanChristmas, you fucking brat! God, I should have you evicted!”

I snort as he fake cries and push against his chest, eyes flashing to the three amused men that have moved to different areas of the room. Jisung leaning by the door still, smile present watching us. 

“It’s not my fault you were trying to get into an engaged woman’s pants!” After successfully pulling away from him, I pushed him towards the the couch to sit with the other man. I could feel Jisung’s body as he moved to follow us. His hand ghosting my lower back, leaving me feeling tingles all throughout my body, goosebumps raising all over my body. The heat from before rearing its head. Damian fell into the last open seat. Jisung pulled out floor cushions, settling down on one, with his back against the the chaise of the couch. 

He pulled my hand down, moving me to settle in between his legs as he spread them. One leg bent, foot flat on the floor, the other outstretched, making the muscle of his thighs prominent. He reached under the coffee table, pulling a folded up throw to place it over my lap, being more mindful of the fact that I was in a skirt than I was. His hand finally coming to rest on my covered thighs, the other wrapping around my waist to keep me secured to him. I nestled further into the space as Jisung began to introduce his friends to me and vice versa. 

Minho, the short, black-haired stoic-looking friend began rolling another joint, his eyes flashing to mine with a wink as Jisung said his name, causing me to grin back at him. There was something about the way he moved, slowly almost, eyes sleepy. The bleached buzz-cut friend, or Hyunjin, smirked at Jisung, his eyebrow raising in turn. He seemed to glow, the air around him somehow reminding me early spring. 

“You must be who pulled our Jisungie away from us.”

‘Jisungie’ stuttered behind me, his hands clenching in their hold on me. 

“Aww, I didn’t realize Jisungie already mentioned me!”

Minho snorted, licking the last of the blunt as he met my gaze. 

“He messed up three drinks too busy watching you.”

I turned my head to look at Jisung, eyes sparkling with laughter, mouth twitching into a smile. 

“Did you really?”

He furrowed his brows, glare stinging as he stared Minho down. 

“Barely,” he grumbled as I giggled, hand coming up to cover my mouth, Damian and Hyunjin snorting in laughter. Minho smirked, lighting the blunt and taking a hit before passing it to Hyunjin. 

“If it’s any consolation, I got groped while trying to get his attention, so I think we both learned our lesson,” I watched as all the men in room grew tense, their brows furrowing. Jisung tightened his grip on me, the deep breaths he took moved me on his chest. 

“I promise, _______, that shit won’t ever happen again in our club,” Hyunjin shook his head as he continued the blunt rotation to Damian. “I’m sorry it even happened in the first place, but don’t worry he’s banned.” 

Minho hummed, cracking his fist as he stood up to grab a drink from the bar. Even from the short interaction with Minho, the air around him was intimidating, heavy, almost like a blanket. 

“I shouldn’t have left you for even a second, babes!” 

Damian leaned down, passing it to me now. I shook my head not seeing how Damian could blame, taking a hit, breathing it back up my nose. I was about to turn my head to the side, fingers lightly gripped my chin, turning my head towards Jisung, lips opening in surprise and releasing smoke in his awaiting parted ones. My eyes were wide as I stared at his hooded ones, the furrow in his brows still present showing me how much the situation had frustrated him.

He leaned back, eyes still on me as he exhaled from his nose. I played with his chain, shaking my head firmly again. 

“Nah, it’s no ones, but that perverts fault. I allowed him to dance with me and he crossed the line, he should’ve just felt lucky to have danced with me!” 

“Exactly!” Minho slammed the shot glass down after his proclamation, sucking in air through his teeth. “Fucking bitch ass probably an insecure cunt who’s dick’s so-“

“Alright dude,” Hyunjin shakes his head as he grabs the blunt from me. Minho rounds the couch five glasses filled this time that he lays on the table. 

“No let him finish! Asshole deserves it!” I lean forward, hand raised for a high-five which Minho gladly gives. I then reach for a glass, slap the shot on the table and throw it back, lips scrunching up at the taste. Jisung’s thumb wipes the excess that dribbled down my chin and sucks his finger.

“Okay, you two can relax,” Minho groans, stealing the blunt from Damian before he could pass it to me. “Nah, as punishment, we’re skipping you two.”

“Hey!” I pouted and turned to Jisung in shock, crossing my arms. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

Jisung gaped at me as I stood up from the between his legs, bringing the blanket with me to go on the other side of the coffee table. It was Jisung’s turn to pout, sending another seething look towards Minho as he passed the blunt to me now. For a moment, I could have sworn it looked like his eyes had changed colors, but I ignored it, chalking it up to the decorative lights of the room. 

I stuck my tongue out at him and took a long drag. 

“Sweetness, weren’t you just begging to hold my hand?” I began to cough, smoke creating a cloud around me as I covered my face with my arm. I could hear the cackle of Damian and threw up a middle finger. A body settled near me, a large hand patted me on the back as Hyunjin placed a cup of water down in front of me. 

I looked up to see Jisung, who sends me a cheeky wink, bringing the glass to my lips. He continues to rub my back as I chug the water. Hyunjin grabs the remote, turning the television on to put a Christmas movie on. 

“Jack Frost, the 1979 version! Do that one, that one’s my favorite!” I point when he just passes the old cartoon movie. I can see from peripheral Minho and Hyunjin turn to make a face at Jisung who had moved towards the bar to pour a drink. He shook his head slightly, finger tapping his lip. Hyunjin plays it, grabbing the other blankets from under the coffee table to pass them around. 

“Is the club still open?” Damian asked, as he wrapped himself up in his blanket. 

Minho nodded his head, taking another shot glass. 

“We stay open all day on Christmas, but that’s also because we have a select group that comes and spends today with us.”

“A select group?” I look over at him as Jisung comes back around, grabbing the floor cushion to slide back towards me. He sits down, dragging me to sit on his lap, blanket covering our lower halves. I turn to look at Jisung in shock who merely shrugs and turns his attention to the movie. 

“Basically it’s like a private member only club that we happen to host here every Christmas.”

“How do you become a member?” Damian crossed in his legs, sitting up intrigued now. 

“It’s kind of based on their job?” 

“What kind of job? I have a job!” I sit up in Jisung’s lap, hands squeezing at the arm wrapped around me. 

“Not just any job, Sweetness,” Jisung chuckled behind me and rubbed a hand up and down my back. “Think maybe more life long jobs, passed down in a very specific way.”

“So nepotism?” 

Minho busted out laughing as Hyunjin snorted. Jisung shook from laughter underneath me. Damian and I shared a confused look, both of our heads tilting to the side. I look at Jisung once again, eyebrow raising as he sobered up, hands tightening their grip on me as he bit his lip. 

“Yea, Sweetness, something like that.”

I hummed, understanding that it was possibly a touchy subject and decided to drop it. Fanning the blanket to cover us more, I turned my head sideways to focus back on the movie. I felt Jisung’s cold nose rub lightly by my temple before shifting his attention to the TV as well. 

It was about half an hour or more into the movie and all of us, excluding Damian who had fallen asleep, groaned when Sir Rightfellow came on. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe she picked this douche over Jack!” I grumbled, arms crossing as Jisung moved us forward to pass Minho the joint that Hyunjin had rolled a few minutes prior. Minho’s eyes flash to behind me, a smirk present once again on his face.

“You don’t say?” I look behind me to catch Jisung shaking his head before he stops himself, smiling at me. “Are you implying you would have been Jack Frost’s bride?” I turn back to Minho with a ‘duh’ look on my face. 

“Jack Frost is by far better, although, I wouldn’t want him to have to turn human. I’d be chill just being his as he is.” 

I felt Jisung stiffen under me but paid no mind as I sat up further. 

“Also, like I wish Jack would’ve just said something, you know? Like ‘hey, I saved your life’ or I don’t know just say your ‘Old Man Winter’!”

“I am not Old Man Winter!” Jisung shot back and I whipped around to face, mouth open. Minho hissed as Hyunjin chortled. I shook my head surprised by the scowl on his face. 

“I- I know you’re not…” When the scowl on his face didn’t lessen, the pout prominent, I felt an overwhelming need to comfort him. “I’m sorry, Jisung, Jack Frost isn’t Old Man Winter?”

I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but I also couldn’t help but feel confused as to why he seemed so offended. His eyes widened once he realized his outburst and he turned his head to cough. 

“I- I mean they’re two different people you know? Old Man Winter is the god of Winter, I’m- Jack Frost is winter you know? They’re completely different…” 

“Smooth,” Minho mutters, causing Hyunjin to laugh even harder.

I nodded my head, as he finished, hands rubbing his chest to calm him. 

“You’re right, Ji, they’re totally different, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Jisung stared at me for a second before moving to stand to his feet, grabbing my hands to bring me with him. 

“Come with me?” I nodded as he began to lead me towards the door I had seen earlier. He lifted a two-finger salute towards the boys as I turned to wave at them. 

“Merry Christmas!” They smiled at me and called back to me, returning to the still-lit joint. Jisung pulled me through the door, closing it behind me. 

“Wow!” I take in the silvery Christmas decorations, stepping further into the dark, cold bedroom, lit by the white lights. I walked towards the frosted windows, gasping at how real the frost looked like. I look at the bedroom, the fluffy dark blue sheets looking incredibly inviting. My eyes trailed to the bookshelf, littered with different books, games, and photographs. 

One photo caught my eye in particular, it was Jisung, Minho, Hyunjin, that security guard Chan, and a few others that I didn’t know. What really caught my attention was how they were all dressed. Chan was dressed as Santa Claus, Minho in robes and a floppy hat with what looked like a cotton ball. Hyunjin had on a crisp white suit, in his hand a woven basket. I trailed my eyes over the picture, stopping at the darkly dressed Jisung. He looked normal if the frosty blue color of his eyes didn’t give him away. 

I hear his footsteps as he approaches me slowly. I turn to face him, the question clear on my face. 

“Is- hmm how should I ask this?” Jisung moved to sit on the bed, hands moving behind him as he leaned back. I could tell he was trying to appear indifferent, but his shoulders seemed tense, and his mouth tight. “Are you guys like.. a bunch of role-players or something?”

Jisung fell back into the bed laughing heartily, I smacked my teeth at him and moved to climb onto his lap, chuckling at the cute expression on his face, happy to see him relaxing. His eyes were closed, mouth open wide. His laugh gave me rich man vibes, leaving me to shiver in its wake. Fuck, he was too attractive. He sat back up, his blue hair shining under the silvery white Christmas lights. 

His hands came up to grip my thighs, my skirt rucked up dangerously now between. My hands came to rest on his arms. 

“What? I feel like it was a valid question!” Jisung snorted, his eyes full of amusement. 

“It was, it was,” he pats my butt, sliding his hand up my back slowly. “No, we aren’t role-players.” 

“Then they’re the nepo babies you mentioned, right?” He laughed again, nodding his head as I smirked triumphantly. “But why are you in it? You’re a nepotism baby too? And why are you all dressed like that?”

“Relax, Sweetness, I’m gonna answer your questions-“ I stood from his lap suddenly, going back to the picture and picking it up to bring it closer to my face. It was like the thought was not yet done forming, but my mind was going wild. There is just something about them, something in the look and the photo itself looked old almost. My brain racks through our conversations throughout the night. 

There’s… no way…

I slowly bring the picture down, eyes flashing to him and then back to the photo. He hadn’t moved from his seat, yet his eyes changed from the playfulness from before to anxiety? Fear? Hope? I couldn’t tell with the bubbling confusion and denial already making itself known inside of me. 

“You-“ I stop myself looking back at the picture, there’s just no way. I place the picture back down and look at Jisung, schooling my face. “Are you fucking with me or something? Like is this something that you do?”

“Wait, huh?” 

“The whole ‘Jack Frost’ thing, I mean having us watch the movie-“

“Okay well hold on, you wanted to watch-“

“And then your reaction to being called ‘Old Man Winter’,” Jisung’s face immediately turned cloudy, his mouth dropping open to disagree. I held up a finger to his lips, my eyes blazing. 

“I mean look at your room, Jisung, it’s not subtle!” My arms are outstretched to my side at this point, one hand still holding the photograph. “Is this why you guys stay open? Are you like some Christmas sex club? Members can pick their favorite character or something”

Jisung paused, the finger he had in the air to interrupt, bent at the knuckles. The lips twitched up, his eyes filling with laughter. 

“I-“

“And what makes you think I would choose Jack Frost! What if I was more into Cupid, hmm?”

Jisung scoffed, arms crossing over his chest, looking off to the side with a pout on his lips. 

“Changbin wouldn’t even know how to handle you,” I look back at him, eyebrows furrowed. I realized He.. actually thinks he’s Jack Frost. I glance at the picture again and back towards him. 

I can’t possibly believe this.

Can I?

“You-“ I cleared my throat, his head turning towards me, but his eyes remained on the floor, pout still present. “You’re really Jack Frost.”

Jisung’s eyes met mine now, the seriousness on his face taking me by surprise. 

“I am.”

The finality of his voice struck me to the cord. Jisung stood up from his seat moving towards the window, he glanced over at me before closing his eyes and blowing on the glass panes. I watch in amazement as frost leaves his pursed lips, the ice growing further on the panes. The room’s temperature drops further as more ice leaves his mouth. He stops, eyes opening revealing the icy blue color from the photo. 

I gape in shock, slowly sinking to the floor, eyes flashing between him and the window. 

“Y-you.. you’re Jack Frost,” one hand covers my mouth, the other falling flat on the floor next to the picture that continued to glare up at me. “Fuck, you’re really.. you..”

A hand slowly comes in my vision, moving my hand away from my mouth before tilting my face upwards with a finger under my chin. The icy blue in his eyes remained as he hesitantly crept closer. Oddly enough, his touch continued to feel warm to me even in the freezing room. Goosebumps rose on my body as our eyes met.

“I’m Jack Frost.”

“You’re Jack Frost.”

We both continued to stare at each other as our words sank in. I should run, I should leave and never look back. I was just drunk, high, maybe he drugged me! I mentally shook my head at that, knowing that this man had seemed so sincere in the interactions we had. My hand glides up his that’s still holding my chin, clenching the black fabric of his sleeve and pulling him down as I pushed up. 

Our lips met in a bruising force, teeth almost clanking together at how desperately we gripped at each other. The heat in my core multiplied as Jisung’s hands went to both of my cheeks, fingers spreading to reach into my hair as we pushed closer. My arms squeezed his arms, hands moving to wrap around his neck. His teeth nipped and sucked at my lips, hands moving my head the way he wanted. 

He pulled away suddenly, lifting me to my feet and walking us back towards the bed. I raised on to my tip toes, thankful I had taken my shoes off again once we started the movie. I move my hand to the back of his neck, bringing his head down to take a nip at his nose. He groaned, setting me on top of lap, bringing our cores flushed against each other. 

I could feel the tent beginning to form on his pants, growing more as we continued to devour each other. His lips trailed down my neck, teeth biting at the flesh. I moan unabashedly, moving my hips over his to feel any type of friction. By now, my skirt was over my hips, underwear on full display. His hands kneading at the skin of my ass, shaking the extra flesh in his fingers. 

“Fuck me, Sweetness,” Jisung continued to bite at me, going farther down to the tops of breasts, tongue coming out to lick the swell of my left one. Without warning, he bite down roughly, causing me to shriek and grind harder on his growing length, mouth salivating. 

“Yes, Ji!” He hums as he takes another bite from the top of my right tit, tongue soothing the skin in his mouth. I groan, one hand fisting at the back of his shirt, the other gripping his hair, pushing his head closer to my breasts. Jisung pulled away, smirking at the bite marks he had left on me, before pursing his lips and blowing the softest cold air on them. 

I gasped, chest heaving, hips moving erratically over his. One of his hands moved from my ass to trail up the front of my body, fingers grazing the fresh marks. I whimpered as they pressed into the bruised skin, eyes flashing up to meet his. 

Words couldn’t be used to describe the look we exchanged. It was overwhelming and all too consuming. Our breaths mingled in the space between us, noses brushing against each other. I came to a startling reality that I would gladly give him anything, but more importantly, I wanted him. I wanted to see this man again after tonight, and the night after. I wanted to be a part of him. 

“I want you, Jack Frost.”

It was Jisung’s turn to whimper, his eyes looking so absolutely soft. He leaned towards me, lips meeting mine in a slow dance. Our tongues dragged against the other, licking into each others mouths lazily. Jisung moved us to side to lay me under him on the bed. Him coming to rest flush against me, legs caging his waist. His hard length rutted against my core, both us hissing from the contact. 

“I want you, Sweetness,” his eyes holding a question as his fingers fiddled with the ends of my top. I nodded my head, fingers moving to pull the top over my head before he even had the opportunity. Hands not having dropped yet, are suddenly pinned above my head, top tangled in my hands. Jisung wraps his lips around one of my erect nipples, teeth scraping and sucking harshly. 

He switched to the other side, giving it the same abuse until he was satisfied. Lifting his head to gaze at the red, swollen buds, the bites of his teeth indented in the skin. He blew his soft icy air at them, a breathy sigh escaping me from the contrast of temperatures happening on my body. 

The slickness of the my underwear had to be evident as Jisung continued to press and grind his hips into me. His fingers and lips moved down my body, teeth needing to bite and leave a mark as me made his way down my stomach to my bunched up skirt. Jisung begins to tug my skirt down my legs, lifting off the bed so that was standing before me. He held my socked feet, lifting them up to his face to place a kiss on the clothed toes. 

I tried jerking them back, laughing at the tickle of cool air on them, but he held on tighter. 

“Sweetness, the way you were dressed today took my breath away and I already wanted you, but when I saw these socks, I knew I was going to have you. I think I’m wrapped around your finger, is that possible?”

I wiggled my toes at him, arching one of my feet to touch at his chest and push at him. 

“Yes… I’m wrapped around yours,” Jisung placed a final kiss to the arch of my foot, sliding fingers under the fabric to pull it off. He did the same with the other foot, before holding them together to kiss each toes, teeth taking small nips at them. I pouted at the black shirt still on him, dying to have a feel of his skin. 

I trail a foot down, going under his shirt to touch the hard planes of his stomach. He hisses as my toes make contact with his skin before he is shucking his shirt of his body. The honey skin fills my vision, my mouth and cunt watering at the sight. His chest heaved as he stared down at me, eyes still icy blue but dark with desire. 

His hands go to the button of his slacks, pushing them down until he’s left in dark blue boxers. Jisung spreads my legs, pushing them up body as he blows cool air on my covered cunt, the fabric doing nothing to hide the constant flow of arousal dripping out of me. He leaned the last inch forward, biting at my folds, tongue laving the clothed folds. 

I whine, hands moving down to my tits, pulling roughly at my bitten nipples. Jisung continued to suck and bite at my slit, hands moving to tug me closer, as if he’s trying to suffocate himself. I almost wail when his fingers begin to slide the wet fabric down all while he blew soft cool air. 

He dives back in, tongue trailing up from my puckered hole to my cunt, trying to catch as much of my essence as he could. He leans back and spits at my clit, drawing a whine from me at the filthy display. 

“Sweetness was the perfect name, you taste so good, best fucking pussy,” he slurred against me, eyes hooded as he looked at me. I was up, leaning back on my elbows to watch him, bottom lip caught between my teeth. I slide my hand down, fingers touching at my clit as he continues to suck on me, his tongue grazing the tips of my nails. “So fucking wet, precious, you’re dripping.”

“Only for you, Mr. Frost,” he brings my fingers into his mouth, biting down on them. The icy blue intensified and the room grew even colder as he fingers teased at my entrance, his other hand gripping tightly at the inside of my thigh. 

“Ask me for it, ________.”

The roughness of his voice had my pussy clenching, my hole desperate for him to fill it. I moved my hips, a pout painting itself on my face. 

“Please Jisung-“  the words barely left before his finger is inside, curling and beginning a steady rhythm. The squelching noise was obscene as I threw my head back, toes curling from the pleasure. “Yes, baby, don’t stop, more, Ji, more!”

A second finger was soon add, the pumping in side of me increased, leaving me panting and desperate. My hips move on their own accord, meeting his pumping fingers thrust for thrust. 

“More, Sweetness? You can take can’t you? Such a good girl, shitting on Sir Rightfellow huh?” I whimper, hole clenching tightly around his fingers causing him to release a hiss as he went harder. “Fuck Sweets, you were just begging for me, huh? Needed some ice in you?”

Each question is asked with a forceful thrust of his fingers, leaving me weak and seeing snowflakes in my vision. 

“Oh- yes, Sungie, harder,” I gasped as it felt like the temperature of his fingers changed, the coldness against my heated walls almost bringing me to the edge. My head went to the side, the pleasure of it all becoming too much and for a moment my eyes grazed the picture that lay on the floor forgotten. A thought suddenly passing through me as Jisung continued his assault, his mouth having joined his fingers. His tongue slurping messily, teeth continuing to nip any bit of skin he could. 

“W-wait, Ji-“ Jisung immediately pulled his head away, fingers halting as his eyes flashed to mine, concern evident. 

“What’s wrong?”

“If Chan was here tonight, how did he deliver presents?”

Jisung huffed, his head falling back. “There’s no way you’re fucking asking me about that now?” Jisung continued to pump his fingers lazily, mouth reattaching itself to my slick folds. I gasped, his tongue ice cold as he lapped at me. 

“But I’m serious! Australia is like hours- wait… OH!” A strong suck and teeth biting my clit has me pausing, the air from lungs taken all at once. “Timezones duh! But still, ah- fuck- it doesn’t make sense!”

I shrieked as Jisung bit roughly at my inner thigh, fingers curling and beginning a punishing speed inside of me. 

“Sweets, please, stop talking about him.”

“I’m s-sorry, Ji, I have- OH FUCK ME!” I yelp, my thighs clamping around his head as he suddenly shoved his tongue inside my aching hole. My vision goes black as I yelled out his name. Jisung continues his never-ending assault, lapping furiously at me to make sure he didn’t miss a drop. He was whining, hands shoving me closer to him, gripping tightly his knuckles turned white. 

My body continued to shake as Jisung kissed up my body, admiring the littered teeth marks he left on me body. My eyes opened, meeting his, shock running through me at his wet face. My mouth dropped open, hand coming up to cover my mouth. 

“Did I..?”

Jisung swipes a hand over his face, bringing his wet fingers to his mouth to suck on them. His other hand trails down his own body, jerking his covered dick. His gaze is dark as he slips his hand inside, pumping his length as he looked at me. 

“Yes, you did, sweets, squirted all over me, fucking hot as fuck,” Jisung whines, climbing over me after he shoved his boxers down his legs, yanking his own socks off. “I need to have you now, baby, please?” 

Jisung came to hover over me, his hands coming to rest on either sides of my body, blue hair tickling my forehead as he leaned down to ghost his lips over mine. 

I sucked in a breath, hands running up his chest, scratching at his skin, desperate to leave me own mark. I bite his bottom lip, tugging at it roughly, sucking it into my mouth. His hard erection bumped against my folds, leaving us to whine and pant into each others mouths. 

“Please fuck me, Mr. Frost.”

Jisung shivers above, kissing me softly before lifting off of me to reach inside of the nightstand. I lock my ankles around his waist, arms circling around his neck to bring his attention back to me. Eyebrows furrowed, I shook my head at Jisung, my hand reaching down to grab his dick. My fist jerked him up and down, enjoying the way his mouth fell open, bottom lip jutting out completely. 

“I said, fuck me, Jisung,” his hand met mine, circling around my fist, nudging his tip against my clit, the wetness easily allowing him to slide against me. Jisung nudged my hand away, fingers interlocking with mine as he brought them above my head. He pushed his hips forward, grinding against me until the tip of his length caught my sopping area. 

 Jisung quickly sank in, both moaning loudly at the connection. I could feel my eyes begin to water, Jisung’s head dropping in the crook of my neck, teething at the area. Our hips moved in tandem, Jisung taking deep, slow thrusts, making me feel every inch of his dick inside of me. I clenched around him, eyes nearly rolling back at the tight feel and causing Jisung to bite even harder. 

I feel barely coherent as I try to meet his hips, thrust for thrust, hand still clutched in his. I turned my head, lifting up to suck on the skin of the arm holding my hand down. Jisung’s hips stuttered against me, head lifting from my neck as I bite at his arm, tongue coming out to lave at the skin, soothing the redness around the teeth marks. A string of spit connecting me to his arm had him rutting into me harshly, his hands now moving to stretch my legs to the side, pinning my hips down. 

I cry out, hands grabbing onto his biceps for support as he thrusted into me wildly. It was like as someone was gliding an ice cube inside me before the temperature returned to normal, Jisung a groaning, whimpering mess above me, mouth open as the icy blue of his eyes doubled, almost making them white. I gasped as his body seemed to go back and forth from being warm to cold, as if he wasn’t able to control his supernatural abilities. 

“Let go for me, Frost, l-let me see you,” Jisung’s eyes found mine, a vulnerability in them that left me shook to my core. I smiled softly at him, my eyes still watery from the pleasure. Jisung’s mouth opened, most likely to argue, but I placed a finger over them, shaking my head, eyes imploring him. “Please?”

Jisung eyes remained the same, except he continued his deep thrusting, eyes not leaving mine as his body became cold, the length inside of me feeling like an icicle. His skin unable to cool the fire burning in me as I raked my hand through his blue locks, pulling him down so our lips met. Tongues sliding into each others mouth, teeth trying to nip, sucking when we could, spit dripping from our mouths. 

The air around us seemed to fill with snowflakes and yet everywhere he touched me burned. The burn of his hand against my stomach, pushing in to feel the burning of his length inside me. 

“You’re so good to me, sweets, aren’t you?” Jisung cooed at me, lips moving towards down to my chest. He teethes at my nipples again, fingers pinching where he couldn’t bite. “Letting me fuck this pretty pussy, you were begging to be fucked by Jack Frost, weren’t you baby?”

“Ahh, yes- nugh, wanted you from the second I s-saw- ohhh fuck, Ji, I- I’m close,” I whimpered my head digging into the soft mattress under me. Jisung’s eyebrows were pinched together, his lips bruised, but blue? The color matching his hair. 

“You’re close, sweets?” he pouted at me, he pumped harder, his breathing ragged. “Wanna cum with you, baby, hmm? You wanna cum with me, don’t you?” I’m nodding my head, his fingers holding my neck in a light pressure. I would want to do anything with him if it meant we’d come back together like this. That I would see him again.

“Please, Ji, please, please.”

“That’s it, baby, cum with me, do it.” 

The burst of white around us became so intense, I felt myself go limp, eyes rolling back as Jisung continued to pump into me through the orgasm. I couldn’t even say if any noises left me as I felt myself succumbing to the pleasure, the ice inside of me creating a deep fire within me, bursting out of me. Without a second of peace, I could feel the explosion of Jisung’s orgasm, the icy full feeling causing another wave to crash over me, clenching around him tightly to milk everything out of him. 

Jisung groaned deeply above, hips driving it to me as we rode our pleasure together. The wild sounds coming from his lips fall muffled to my ears, still ringing as I struggled to come down from the high. I could vaguely feel Jisung slowly slip from me, hand coming to touch my swollen center, fingers slipping in my drenched hole to push our shared cum back inside of me. He settled next to me, fingers still inside me, but wrapping his free arm around my waist to bring me closer to him. 

“You did so good, sweets, so good for me,” Jisung noses at my ear, whispering praises into my ear to bring me back to him. The hand not in me, caressing my skin, the coolness of his touch grounding me. I hummed, turning my head into his chest, hands tracing his chest and stomach. 

“I’ll be good for you, Jisung,” I murmured into his cold skin, a small smile gracing my face when I felt his lips touch my forehead. A nice blanket of exhaustion washes over me, my body immediately relaxing despite the coldness of the room. I remembered whining when he finally took his fingers from me, body lifting from the bed, taking the comforting cold with him. 

I was on the depths of sleep when I could feel something warm and slightly rough wipe gently at the wetness in between my legs, before was that lotion on my legs? I blinked up lazily, moving to try and sit up as I watched him apply lotion to my legs so carefully, hands kneading at my thighs and calves. 

“Sungie…” 

His eyes flashed to me holding so much affection, so soft that I wanted to cry. He leaned his head down, bringing his lips to the inside of my knee as he finished the last of the lotion, but continuing to rub his hands on my skin. 

“Sweets, I think I’ll have to keep you.” 

It was quiet for a beat, the weight of his words settling. I watched as Jisung almost shrunk into himself, as if his confession would cause me to run away screaming. I furrowed my brows at him, his eyes stuck to my legs, lips barely moving from where they rested on my skin. I sit up, hands grasping at his arms to pull him towards me, pushing him down to lay down on the bed, head nestled against the pillows. He watched me with an unreadable gaze, yet his body pliant to every touch I made. I pulled the blanket from under us, making sure it covered us both completely. 

“Keep me then.”

Falling asleep with Jisung felt familiar and strange. The coldness should’ve bothered me, the coolness of skin should have alarmed me, but I only felt peace as I slipped away, eyes closing. If only I had noticed him watching me, noticed the way he went into himself again, maybe I could’ve prevented it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I gasped awake, the heat of the room becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as I stumbled from my bed. I rushed towards the kitchen, opening the freezer to grab an ice pack, moaning as it touched my skin. My eyes watering wondering when I wouldn’t feel the desire to do this anymore, but truthfully never wanting the cold to leave, wanting it to stay permanently engrained to my skin. 

It had been days since Christmas, four days actually since I woke up back in my room, alone and hot. I hate it. I missed him, desperate to see him again, but it appeared as though it was a dream. The club seemed to have vanished, no search engine finding the magical winter club. My one and only attempt to ask Damian had me blanching, it was as if his memory was erased, the only thing he could tell me was that he had one of the best night’s sleeps he’s ever had. 

I stood in my bathroom, naked in front of the mirror as I dragged my fingers down my body, tracing over every teeth mark and bruise left over. The largest marks being on my breasts, nipples still raw, begging for the same abuse. I could feel him still on my body, feel him come inside of me, the ice cold sensation something I will never be able to forget.

Each passing day brought me closer to insanity, the overwhelming need to be surrounded and engulfed by coldness becoming too much. Damian had murmured his concerns before he was set to leave to spend a few days at his, let’s refer to him as his special friend, who had returned home the day before from visiting their own family. Damian had said it was too early to spend holidays together which left me rolling my eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna be good?” He eyed my from the door as he finished shrugging his jacket on. I was wearing a large hoodie over my pajamas, feet covered in my new pair of Jack Frost socks, an impulse buy from two days prior that I even spent for same day shipping. I had successfully hid every mark from Damian, thankful I lived on the top floor of our home, free to dress how I wanted and needed to. I had just pulled an ice pack from the freezer, placing it behind my neck as I turned to wave him off. 

“I promise, I’ll be okay, I think I just might be coming down with something,” I shrugged and threw myself on the couch, turning the television on to put the Jack Frost movie on. I heard Damian groan from behind, most likely tired of watching this movie as I’ve replayed it about 15 times in the last 3 days. 

“Uh huh.. well I’ll be back after New Years, call me if you need me okay?” His gaze was worried, but he shot me a soft smile that I returned. 

“I will, have fun! Tell Tris I said hi!” He calls out a last goodbye as he shuts the door to our townhouse, locking it behind him. The smile on my face drops as I turn back to the movie, ice pack falling onto my lap as I stared blankly. I pull the large hoodie off my body, gasping finally once the heat left my body, dying to feel cold. I had opted to wearing a Christmas themed pajamas set, a tank top with a snowflake in the middle and shorts littered with them. Each day my clothing had become more revealing, trying to find the cold again. Damian had refused to let me put the AC on, stating that even if it wasn’t super cold outside, he wouldn’t allow me to turn the house into a freezer. 

It wasn’t until the movie was almost done that I realized I was crying. The bottom lip quivering as I watch Jack blow the cold air over Elisa’s bouquet. A loud sob bursts forth before I can stop it and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions. Was I sick? How could I feel so much for a stranger in just a night? Why did it have to be him? 

I longed to regret that night, to forget it the way Damian could. Erase it from my memory just as the club seemed to have vanished into thin air. I could try and hate it, hate every second of that night. Of him. Of how he made me feel, how he touched me. But nothing could take away the way he looked at me. A look full of longing and hope, as if he finally found what he was looking for. 

I sank down off the couch, bringing the ice pack up to my face as I continued to cry. The coldness of the pack numbing the burning of my face. My chest heaves for air as I curled up into a ball, laying on my side. My eyes shut, my body shaking as I let myself finish releasing my emotions. I felt empty and more alone than ever, fingers tightening their grip around the ice pack, holding it against my chest now. 

I close my eyes, no longer caring if I finish the movie. The carpet rough on my cheek as I sniffed and brought a fist to wipe my tears. 

“Fuck you, Jisung, for making me cry,” I pout and toss the ice pack away from me. I sat up, bringing my knees up to my chest, looking off to the side at the window. I laid my head against my knees, arms wrapping around my legs. 

“I miss you, Mr. Frost,” pout becoming more prominent, I shut my eyes, tired of seeing windows without fresh frost on them. The ending song of the movie begins to play when I notice that the temperature of the room seemed to drop. For the first time in days, I shivered, the cold nipping at my nose, causing me to blink my eyes open in confusion. 

Icy blue orbs met mine, full of guilt, sadness, and desperation. My mouth fell open, eyes unable to stay put long enough on just one part of his handsome face. His blue hair framing his honey skin that seemed to have bits of frost decorating him so beautifully, so perfectly. Fuck him. 

“I missed you too, sweets,” I don’t respond, don’t move, just continue to stare. I can feel my chest begin to heave as I become desperate for air, the frostiness around us somehow providing the comfort I had been desperately seeking for days. Jisung slowly brought his hand to my cheek, eyes full of sadness, blue lips parting as he could see the dried tear streaks. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You said you would keep me.”

“I.. I know, sweets.”

Jisung hung his head, hand still holding my cheek. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, moving my legs out of the circle of my arms, crossing them as I crossed my arms in front of me. 

“Well?”

“I-“ Jisung audibly gulped and shifted from his crouched position, sinking to the floor to mirror me. “I talked to Chan-“

“Santa!” The glower immediately became present, his eyes narrowing at me. I raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly schooled his reaction, sending me a sheepish smile, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. 

“Yea.. Santa.. well I talked to him.. well about you and it’s just-“ Jisung cleared his throat, fingers raking through the blue locks holding onto them. “It’s not often that we meet people and the Man on the Moon can be really particular and Mother Nature can’t always sway him sometimes, he can be a bitch sometimes- Wait, no!” His head shot towards the window, eyes wide as if the Man on the Moon was going to storm in the room. “I mean I’m extremely grateful to him because I wouldn’t be me, Jack Frost, if it weren't for him, but, it’s a lot. Being what we are, what I am. I thought it was just the heat of the moment-“ I snorted causing Jisung to pause. 

“I don’t remember there being much heat, but okay,” he chuckles now, the hand he had on my cheek moving down my arm. Jisung turns to me again, eyes full of hope and affection. 

“You know what I mean, I just- got in my head, but truthfully, Sweets, I missed you. So so much and I’m also just Jisung and your just _______ and I really, really just want to be with you.. I’m sorry I had left you for so long, I shouldn’t have.”

I continued to stare at him, trying so hard to not give any emotions away as he finished. The pit of hope blooming inside of me, he came back for me, he does want me. He was a stranger, he doesn’t know me and I only know Jack Frost, not Jisung. It would be ridiculous to begin anything with him. Insane even. 

“Are you going to leave me again?”

Jisung immediately shook his head, hands grasping at mine, bringing them up to his lips. I couldn’t contain the shiver once his cold lips grazed my knuckles, easing the heat that I’ve grown to hate.

“No, I won’t.”

I stared at him for a moment before pulling my hands from his grasp and standing to my feet, walking around him. 

“Can’t believe you stopped holding my hand,” I grumble, stopping towards the kitchen to pour a glass of water. 

“Sweets, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to,” Jisung follows me pouting, the cloud of frost following him, falling into my cup as he crowds into my space. “I would’ve kept my fingers inside of your tight pussy forever if you’d let me.”

I gasp, slapping his chest. “Jisung!”

“What?” He laughed, smile bright as I leaned into him not realizing, taking a sip of my water as I roll my eyes at him. “But I promise you, Sweets, I mean it, I want you.”

His hands rests on my hips as I keep my gaze focused on my water. 

“Are you asking me to be your Suzy Snowflake?” Jisung snorted, forehead coming to rest on mine. He grabbed the glass from my hand, placing it behind me on the counter. His hand returns to my hip, sliding it to my lower back to pull me flush against him. 

“You think Suzy holds a candle to you?” I blush, hands coming to rest on his chest, taking in his outfit for the first time. A black suit, with a black button up and tie. Fuck did he look so good. I was ready to forgive him completely. His feet were in just socks, even if invisible to anyone else, still took his shoes off at the door. I bite my lip, fingers going to his tie as his hand on my lower back went further down, resting on my ass, squeezing. “Sweets, you’ve ruined me completely, don’t you know that?” 

I stretch up on my toes, lips just barely grazing his before I pulled away. A million questions bubbling in my mind. Hold on now.

“Wait, how did you know where I live?” Jisung blushes now, a shy pouty look on his face. I tilt my head to the side, raising an eyebrow as he mumbled so slow I couldn’t hear. “Jisung, how?”

He drops his head on my shoulder, leaning his weight against me, pushing me into the counter. 

“Chan and Felix told me, they thought it would be creepy if I showed up like this, but you don’t think it’s creepy right? I’m not creepy?” His eyes go wide, huge boba looking orbs as he puffs his cheeks. My hands tighten their hold on his tie. 

Fuck me. 

“No, baby you aren’t creepy,” Jisung melted into me, wrapping his arms completely around me now to lift me off my feet. The crisp coldness washes over me and I grip onto his shoulders, savoring it. Jisung’s lips touch my neck dragging a shiver out of me as he starts to nibble. “Who’s Felix?”

Jisung groans, not moving from my neck, but rather taking a rough bite. I yelp, hand trailing up to his hair to scratch his scalp. “Jisung, be nice to me! I know Santa now.”

A hand quickly swats at my ass, pulling a shriek from me as Jisung hauls me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. Jisung snorts as I pout at him, his hand rubbing where he hit. 

“Don’t be a brat.”

“I just wanna know your friends, baby,” I jut my lip further out at him as he leads us back towards the living room. He sits down on the couch, making sure I am settled comfortably on his lap. His hands rubbing at my bare thighs, goosebumps raising all over. Cold surrounding us completely, he stares at me, eyes intense. 

“I like your socks.”

My eyes widen in surprise before giggling as I glance down to where his fingers reach out to graze them.

“I bought them for you.”

He doesn’t respond, but a smile grows on his face, proud and shy. He pinches at my heel, tightening the hand on my thigh when I giggle again, face falling into the crook of his neck. It’s quiet for a moment, frost settling around us before I raise up again, grinning sheepishly.

“So.. who’s Felix?” Jisung barks out a laughter, eyebrows furrowing as he fake glares at me. 

“You should only care about me! Don’t ask about them, why do you need to know? Are you trying to get with them?”

He crosses his arms and I chuckle, wrapping my arms around his neck to press kisses around his face, the last one a gentle touch to his lips. Jisung whimpers under me, wrapping an arm around my waist, the other hand moving down to my ass. We press closer together, mouths opening to for our tongues to meeting.

We moan in sync, the cold touch of his tongue erasing the mountain of loneliness that I had felt for days. It felt so right, every inch of my body covered in frost, as we pulled each other closer, his teeth biting at my mouth. With one last nip on my bottom lip, we separate, a string of spit connecting our lips. His thumb swipes at it, sucking on his appendage for our shared liquid. I shiver in his lap, my hands cradling his cheeks, thumb swiping over them. 

“You’re so silly, Mr. Frost, I thought it was obvious I only want you,” Jisung blushes, hands falling to my hips, rubbing circles in time with the strokes I made on his cheeks. 

“I only want you too,” I giggle, rubbing my noses on his. “And to answer your question, Felix is…” Jisung trails off, looking to the side with a pout. “The Tooth Fairy.”

“The Tooth Fairy!” I jump in his lap, hands falling on his shoulders as I stare at him wonder. Jisung hisses, his hands clenching them on my thighs as I wiggled on top of him. “I can’t believe you know the Tooth Fairy, you’re so cool,” Jisung smirks at me as he shrugs, doing his best to appear nonchalant, but the tips of ears turning red gives him away. His hands knead my ass, pulling me flush against him. 

“I mean, it is pretty cool. We have the club as a way for us to convene-“

“Hey, wait- I’m sorry to interrupt, but speaking of the club! Where the fuck did it go?” 

He winces, nodding his head in understanding. “Okay yea, that’s my bad, I totally spaced on this,” he runs a hand down my arm to grasp at my hand and pull it up to his lips, taking his time to lightly bite the pads of my fingers as he continued to explain. “It’s magic. I wasn’t lying when I said we stay open during the holiday for people that don’t have anyone to share it with. It also serves as our home, you saw my space, we each have our own. And again a place for us to hold meetings. So then when it’s not a holiday, the club turns invisible to the mundane eye. Mother Nature says it’s for our protection.”

There’s a shortness to my breath now as I did my best to concentrate on his words, nodding my head in understanding. The fire inside of me grew, watching as he murmurs against my fingers, content, eyes meeting mine as he stops at my thumb. Our breaths growing heavy, the hand he kept on my ass trailing up my back to rest on the nape of my neck, bringing me closer to him. Every exhale he made sent the soft frosty air into my mouth, leaving me salivating and wanting. My eyes drooped, trying to focus on the conversation at hand, but struggling the longer he continues to look at me. 

“I have a lot of questions, Ji-“ he nodded his head, mouth opening to probably assure me that he’d answer everyone of them. I press my thumb, still grazing his bottom lip, to firmly stop him before he could say anything. “But we’ll have time for that later.”

I ease off his lap, sinking into the space between his legs, resting on my knees, hands rubbing up and down his body. Jisung’s breathing grows ragged, icy blues eyes intensifying as my fingers met the button and zipper of his slacks. 

“I want you, Mr. Frost.”

“You already do, Sweetness,” his voice his rough, as I undo his pants, sliding the zipper down slowly.  He leans forward shrugging his suit jacket off, the black button up straining on his shoulder and chest, bulging around the muscles of his biceps.

“I meant to tell you I love your suit.”

“Yea, baby?” He lifts his hips to help me pull his pants further down, bringing his boxers down with them. His dick springs forth, already hard and leaking from his tip. I mock gasp at him, thumb rubbing the pre-cum leaking out of him. He whines as I take him in my fists, tongue taking a kitten lick from the tip. I moaned as the coldness touched my tongue, the icicle length stinging as I pumped him, flicking my wrist every so often. 

I wrapped my lips around him further, tongue laving at the underside of his hard length. I take him deeper, leaving him a moaning mess above, his head back against the couch cushions, eyes screwed shut and the cutest pout on his lips. The absolute fucked out expression spurs me on as I lift up, popping him out of my mouth to spit on him before taking him again, mouth freezing as my nose brushing against the skin of his pubic bone. 

Every noise he releases goes straight to my pussy, aching hole leaking and clenching around nothing. I knew my shorts and panties were ruined at this point, the wetness dripping, soaking me completely through. The hand I had kept on his thigh for support, trails down to my center, gargling around him as my fingers tickle my covered clit. 

He shouts a curse, a hand pulling my hair from my face to watch me take him in my mouth. I move my hand from around him, placing it on top of the hand on my head, encouraging him. He takes the opportunity, guiding my head up and down on his icicle, holding me down. My mouth hangs open, tongue out as he begins to thrust into my mouth, whimpering each time the tip of his dick touches the back of my throat. 

“Sweets, oh fuck, Sweets, so good, baby, such a good baby,” Jisung’s voice is rough, his breathing puffing clouds of frost. “Sweets, I’m gonna cum,” Jisung’s hips stutter, gagging me as spit drools from my mouth onto his dick. “I don’t wanna cum in your mouth.”

Jisung pulls me from him, lifting me to my feet, hands going to the hem of my tank, mine going to the buttons of his shirt, but I’m unable to even get one of the buttons from his rushed pace. He lifts my shirt over my head to the side, hands moving next to my shorts and underwear, hissing when he sees the mess I made. His eyes trail further down until they see my socks, drawing a laugh from me as he looks at me, begging. 

“You don’t know what you do to me, baby, we’re keeping those on,” Jisung doesn’t wait to get undressed himself, dragging me onto his lap, legs going on either side of him. He rucks his shirt up just enough to see where we will be connected. 

“I need you, Sweets, I shouldn’t have left you, I’m so sorry,” Jisung hands are hurried, one gripping my ass, the other going to his dick, swiping it against my drenched holes. I slowly sink down onto him, the cold dragging a silent moan from me, mouth falling open as I welcomed him back inside.�� My arms wrap around his shoulders, nose at his temple as he begins to move my hips up and down his length. “I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise.” He punctuates his words with a rough thrust into me.

“Oh, Ji,” I move down, lips going to the underside of his jaw, sucking at his skin. I circle my hips, swiveling a figure eight, sinking deeper down on his length, satisfied by the fullness of him. His brings a hand forward, cold fingers slipping on my clit. I shriek, squeezing around his dick, drawing more curses from him. 

Each grind of his length taking me higher, mind going numb, the cold all-consuming. Jisung’s head lifted, eyes glazing over as he looked at the marks still on my body, before they darkened, head dipping down to make them fresh. 

I groan as his teeth start their own mission to mark my body. Jisung took away the dark cloud that had developed over me since he left. A rational part of my brain wants to slap myself for becoming so attached to this stranger, but as he pulls away, a small smile on his face, fingers running over the swells of my tits, teeth marks prominent once again, I ignored that thought. 

Each glide caused the frost to grow, breaths mingling once more as we continued our slow and sensual connection. We held each others gazes, mouths open and touching, his fingers returning to my clit as he drew circles once more. Jisung’s suddenly moves his hands to grip under my thighs, keeping us connected and moving me to lay my back on the couch with him hovering above me. He watches in fascination, my tits jiggling with as he starts his pumping into me again. 

“I have so much to make up for, never having you gone from my side again, fuck you were made for me,” Jisung emphasizes his point, fingers pinching my nipples and pulling them, smirking as I wailed from pleasure, eyes watering from the intensity. Grinding his hips roughly after a harsh thrust, as if he was trying to sear us together. My hands grasp onto his clothed biceps, frustrated I couldn’t feel the complete chill of his skin. “Should’ve never let my Sweetness alone for so long, what was I thinking, wasn’t nice of me at all, huh?”

I shake my head at him, tears of pleasure leaking from eyes and cunt, drenching my face, his thighs and lower abdomen. Jisung groans, fingers going to pinch and rub at my clit rapidly, the noticeable fluttering and tightening of my hole egging him on to pull my orgasm out. 

I cry out his name, my vision blurring as the first wave hits me, washing over me, leaving me shaking as he continues to thrust inside of me, his own orgasm rearing its head. Jisung grunts, leaning down to touch our foreheads together, hand slipping up around my neck. The air he releases is freezing now, flurries of frost hitting us as he drills into me, hips jerking sloppily. My mouth falls open, tongue out which Jisung takes the opportunity to lewdly spit inside, whimpering seeing me swallow it. Everything about him was cold to touch and leaving me yearning for more. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Sweets, you want it?” I nod my head, lifting the hand around my neck to my lips, sucking his fingers into my mouth, teething at them. Jisung’s other hand is holding on the crook of neck, thumb pressing into my collarbone as he pummels into me. I had long already felt the second orgasm rushing ahead, ready to be released. “Of course you do, my dirty Sweetness, gonna take it all,” Jisung releases a wild groan, hunching forward his length releases a fountain inside of me, triggering my second release. 

The ice cold sensation overpowers me once again, eyes falling closed as he caresses me through it, taking me back to early Christmas morning. The care he had taken towards me, his gentle touch that had rubbed lotion into my legs, that had continued the same treatment after the several other rounds we had completed that night. I run my hand through his hair, his head buried in my neck as we both came down. I turned my head to the side, pressing my lips firmly to his temple. 

Jisung slips out of me slowly, wincing at the grimace on my face, fingers taking their place inside, pushing his cum back inside of me. He grabs my shirt from the floor, wiping at his dick first so he can watch his fingers pump out of me. The cold doesn’t dissipate, etching itself inside of me. He pulls away to clean me and then his fingers. 

“My shirt,” I pout, causing him to lean over to press a kiss against mine. He’s lifting me from the couch, wrapping my legs around his waist again, my hands holding onto his shoulders. 

“I’ll you another pajama set, one with my face on it, now where’s your room,” I grumble at him, pointing towards the staircase to the second floor. “I’ve got days to make up for, Sweetness.”

He begins the trek up the stairs, his pants still undone, half hard dick still hanging out. I couldn’t help, but grind my lower half against his stomach, biting my lip as the wetness transferred onto him. He about trips on the last step, hand flying out to catch us. 

“You know how you can make it up to me?” He whines as I nibble on his earlobe. 

“Tell me, Sweets, whatever you want.”

I grin devilishly, tongue laving at the skin below his ears. My bedroom door is open, neon lights glowing blue, the air dropping as soon as he steps us in. 

“You really want to make it up to me, baby?” I whisper to him, pulling away to rub my thumb on his blue lips. He’s nodding his head, mouth opening to suck on my thumb, teeth scraping against it. He’s in front of the bed now, strong arms tightening as I kept my slow grind against his stomach. 

“Anything, Sweets, please.”

I hold the smirk in now that he’s looking at my face, keeping my face open, eyes begging at him now. His icy blues intense, full of desire and affection, mouth still sucking on my finger. 

“I want-“ he nods his head, encouraging me to continue. “I want to meet ALL your friends.” 

Jisung stills, even the frost in the room as he stares at me. Before he drops me on the bed, causing me to bounce and catch myself before I fell off. He scoffs and glares at me, taking off his clothing as the temperature drops even more. 

“You’re annoying,” I burst out laughing, falling to the side as I watched him undress, glaring and grumbling. He turns me on my stomach, swatting at my ass I continued to giggle, gasping in mock offense.

“Hey! What did I say, you have to be nice to me! Or else!”

He slaps my ass even harder this time, body coming over mine, head coming next to mine. 

“You really think you’re on the nice list?” Jisung snorts above, the hand that slapped my ass now gripping it harshly. “Maybe I should tell Chan what a bad girl you actually are,” he ruts his bare dick against my ass, his hard length drawing a moan from, the icicle a rod of searing pleasure. I lifted my hips, grinding up into him, hushed moans passing through my lips. “Maybe, I’ll even tell Jeongin, you know close we are to New Years, you wanna fuck that up for yourself, hmm?”

I gasp as his hand falls roughly on my ass again, his other fisting at the strands of my hair, pulling my head back so he can bite at my neck. 

“You-“ I heaved in frosty air, eyes nearly rolling back as he straddled my hips, keeping my legs together, before sinking into me from behind, groaning at the tightness of it. I cry out as he begins a punching speed, thrusting into me with abandon. “Y-you know Baby New Year!?”

“You’ve got to be fucking-“ Jisung growls in my ear, arm coming to wrap my neck, putting me a chokehold, not enough to hurt me, but to pull me up to my knees, back flushed with his chest. His thrusting never ceasing. “Such a fucking brat.”

“‘M your brat.”

“Yea, Sweetness,” he lips gentle as they touched my cheek, his free hand tweaking my bitten nipples. “You’re my brat forever, you got that?”

“Yes, Mr. Frost.”

The night passed in a blur, the cold filled pleasure knocking me down, leaving me weak to it, desiring for him and frost no matter how many times he filled me. I struggled to sleep, scared of what would happen in the morning. If he would still be there when I woke up or would I be met with heat. With a burning fire that would consume me and I’d be left roaming the Earth, seeking to be cold once again. 

I wasn’t sure when I finally did end up closing my eyes, Jisung having wrapped me in his cold arms, thin blanket resting over us. His fingers trailing over every mark, new and old ones that he made fresh again. He had spent a significant amount of time rubbing oil into my ass, the teeth marks having been so deep, he remarked I could get them tattooed. 

For the past 4 days, I awoke gasping and sweaty, sensual dreams becoming nightmares. The heat of my room forcing me to either take cold showers or an ice pack to rub on my skin. This morning however, it was only one thing, which caused my lips to tilt up as I snuggled in further, the coolness of it lulling me back to sleep, content knowing it would stay with me forever. 

The frosty air of Jack Frost nipping at my nose. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Holidays! I hope everyone had a wonderful time doing whatever it is you do and thank you for taking the time to read. XOXOXOXOOXO

I want to make it clear that I do not condone plagiarism in any form. All of the work I create is original. Please do not copy or reproduce my work without proper permission or attribution. 

[loulou-land]

Back Alley Fun

Rating: explicit | Pairing: rockon | 3.4k words

Summary:

During a night out at the bar with their teams, Rocker decides to tease and push Deacon to his limits. Deacon, of course, takes him out back to show Rocker just what happens when he misbehaves like that. Fuck around and find out...lol.

- Props and love to @fuselsstuff for keeping me sane while I finished this 😭🫶🏻✨ Happy you read it before anyone else ☺️ -

Read on AO3 or below the cut

The bar was buzzing–the loud laughter, chattering voices, clinking glasses, and the upbeat rhythm of a pop song all blending into a chaotic but familiar background. This was one of Rocker’s favorite badge and ladders. Despite its rundown look, there was a certain charm to it–a welcoming and homey feel that drew people in. Probably why it was so popular with off duty cops and firefighters. At the end of the day and after the kinds of things they dealt with, a cozy and relaxed space with drinks and good company was like a balm to the soul. 

Currently, a mix of 20-squad–Hondo, Luca and Street and his own team were gathered near the pool tables, ribbing each other and letting off some steam. 

Rocker leaned back in his chair, beer bottle to his lips as he took a swig and watched Deacon from the corner of his eye. He’d been quiet all night, but Rocker could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He set his bottle down and grinned to himself. It’s almost too easy, he thought. 

Deacon was sitting stiffly, his usual calm and steady demeanor replaced with something tighter, much more controlled. Rocker shifted in his seat–bringing his arm under the table, setting his hand on Deacon’s leg and squeezing. He felt the powerful leg below his hand twitch, but besides that the other man barely reacted at all. Alright, if that’s how it’s going to be, Rocker thought, taking it as a personal challenge. He decided to be bolder and slowly inched his way upwards. He didn't miss the way Deacon’s jaw tightened at that. 

“You’re awfully tense tonight, Deac,” Rocker murmured under his breath, keeping his voice low enough so only Deacon could hear him. 

Deacon didn't look at him, dark eyes fixed on the team and their pool game. Rocker was determined to push. There was something about tonight–a heady electric feeling crackling in the air between them. It had him wanting to see the man beside him come undone, to be the one to do it. 

Rocker moved forward slightly, while his hand shifted higher up Deacon’s thigh. He’d almost reached his crotch, when a hand gripped his wrist tightly. 

“Rocker,” Deacon muttered gruffly, shooting him a warning look–one that promised retribution if he kept it up. 

That only made him smirk. Rocker pulled his hand back slowly, letting his fingers brush against Deacon’s arm before reaching for his beer. He lifted it to his lips, taking a long deliberate sip, making sure to tilt his head just enough to expose the line of his neck. He could feel Deacon’s eyes on him, watching every slow gulp he took, the way his throat moved. Rocker knew exactly what that did to him, the hunger in Deacon’s gaze sending delicious shivers down his back. He loved Deacon’s obsession with his neck–the way his hands wrapped around it, holding him in place as he fucked him senseless, or how his teeth sank into the skin, marking him, claiming him, making sure Rocker never forgot who he belonged to. He knew he had the barest hint of a hickey on his neck, the fading mark taunting Deacon–tempting him to suck a new one over it. 

Rocker couldn't lie, he was really enjoying this. He’d been half hard for most of the night. And the way Deacon had been squirming in his seat, trying to keep his composure by folding his arms. It wasn't just fun–it was absolutely intoxicating, testing how far he could push before Deacon cracked.

When the game at the pool table picked up again, Rocker stood, stretching lazily, letting his shirt ride up uncovering a sliver of his skin. “I’ll grab another round,” he announced, slipping away before Deacon could say anything. 

At the bar, he flagged down the bartender, ordering a new round for the group. He was about to turn around to look at Deacon, when he felt someone slide into the space beside him–a lean guy with a cocky grin and dripping enough charm to raise Rocker’s hackles. 

“Hey,” the guy said, leaning back against the counter. “Haven’t seen you around here before.” 

Rocker raised an eyebrow, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make the guy a little uncomfortable. “You don’t get out much then” he said, smirking. 

The guy laughed, clearly undeterred. “Or, maybe I’m just looking in the wrong places.” 

Rocker snorted, “That line ever work for you?” 

“Why don’t you tell me? the guy said, giving him a wink. 

Rocker wasn’t interested, not really. In fact, he was largely put off by the guy’s slimy attitude. But he could feel Deacon’s eyes on him from across the bar, and that–that made it worth playing along. He leaned in slightly, giving the guy just enough attention to make it seem like he was interested. 

He let the other guy touch his arm, laughing at something he said–didn’t matter what it was, because the whole time he could feel the weight of Deacon’s gaze on them. 

When the drinks were ready, Rocker grabbed them and finally excused himself. “Well, thanks for the exciting conversation, it’s been…yeah. But, I've gotta get back to my friends,” he said as he quickly made his way to the pool tables, ignoring both the guy calling out for him and Deacon’s eyes as he bypassed their table. 

He gave the guys their beers, shaking his head at Luca’s raised eyebrow and knowing look–the guy was too observant for his own good. And made his way towards the back where the bathrooms were. He didn’t look back but he knew Deacon was still watching. 

The second he stepped out of the bathroom, a calloused hand grabbed his arm and yanked him towards him. Rocker tensed at first before recognizing the man, letting himself get pulled outside and down the alley.

He didn't fight it. Didn't need to–he was getting exactly what he’d been hoping for. 

Deacon didn’t say a word as he dragged him around the corner, shoving him roughly against the brick wall. Rocker grunted at the impact and barely had the chance to catch his breath before Deacon pinned him in place, one of his hands gripping his jaw, the other grabbing his hip in a bruising force. Rocker felt a deep and desperate hum of want thrum through his body at the rough treatment. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” Deacon said, his voice hoarse, low and dangerous. 

Rocker tried to look confused, keeping his smug grin in check. “Yeah? I hadn’t noticed.” 

Deacon moved his hand lower, before settling at the base of his throat and gripping slightly. “You know exactly what you’re doing, boy” 

Rocker chuckled, the sound low and taunting. “Maybe I do. The question is–what are you going to do about it, Deac?” 

Deacon stared at him like a starved man, his dark brown eyes seeming like an endless black pool in the partial darkness of the alley. Rocker sometimes felt like he could lose himself in them entirely. He didn’t answer Rocker, instead spinning him around before putting his hand in the middle of his back and pushing him towards the wall–at the same time gripping his hip and pulling his ass closer to him. 

Rocker knew he looked shameless–arms braced against the wall, back arched and his ass out, just begging for it. Deacon ran his hand down his spine slowly, making him shiver, before mirroring his other hand on his hip and squeezing. 

Deacon leaned in, already breathing hard, and pressed his chest against his back. Rocker moaned at the first feel of Deacon’s hard cock. Even through their jeans he could feel the girth and warmth of it. He’d set out all night to mess with Deacon, but feeling him against him now, the heat of his body behind him, surrounding him–made him feel desperate. He needed Deacon in him, to feel him as close as he possibly could and even then he knew it wouldn't ever be enough. 

“Deacon, please?” Rocker moaned, voice cracking around his name. 

“Mmm, what do you need?” Deacon asks, before nibbling on his ear as he slowly grinded against his ass. 

“You…need you, in me. Fucking me” Rocker had barely finished talking, before Deacon had unbottoned his jeans and yanked them down in one rough motion. The cold night air hit Rocker’s bare skin, making him shiver, but the thrill of doing this outside in a place where they could get discovered made his pulse race and warmed him over. 

“You loose for me baby?” Deacon asked as he slid a finger down his crack to check. He slowly rubbed and prodded a fingertip around his hole. Rocker could feel his hole twitching, trying to suck Deacon’s finger in him. 

“Look at you–so needy for me,” Deacon groaned, his voice gruff. “Your pretty little hole’s just asking for it.” Suddenly, he pulled back and Rocker whined at the loss. 

Then Rocker heard the crinkle of a packet being torn open and soon felt the cold slickness of lube sliding down his crack. He let out a low moan as Deacon’s fingers slid inside, one at first, then two. His fingers worked him open, stretching him in quick, efficient movements, curling slightly and hitting that perfect spot that made Rocker cry out. He didn't try to hold back any of the sounds that were spilling from his lips—half gasps and breathy moans. He wanted Deacon to hear every single one, to feel how much he needed this, needed him. 

“Always so tight and warm,” Deacon muttered, low and rough in Rocker’s ear. His fingers scissored inside him, spreading him further as his thumb pressed into the sensitive skin just below. “All mine.” 

Rocker arched his back more, his head falling forward to rest against the stony brick wall, trying to spread his legs as much as he could with his jeans pooled around his feet and pushed his ass back trying to fuck himself on Deacon’s fingers. “Fuck, Deac… stop teasing,” he groaned, desperate for more. “I need your cock—right now.’’ 

Deacon’s deep chuckle sent shivers down Rocker’s spine. “Oh you’ll get it, brat” he promised, withdrawing his fingers from his ass, leaving him feeling empty. “But first, you’re going to tell me who you belong to.”

Rocker felt warmth blossom in his stomach, spreading through his body, like it always did whenever Deacon’s possessive side reared its ugly head. And even though he wanted to cry out yours, yours, yours— he wasn't going to show his belly so easily. He wanted Deacon to work for it. He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at Deacon from the corner of his eye. His lips curled into a teasing smirk, even as he trembled with need. “Oh is that so? Hate to tell you this, Deac—but you’re going to have to fuck it out of me.” 

He heard the sound of a belt buckle before Deacon crowded against him and pressed the head of his cock to Rocker’s entrance. He pushed forward, slow at first, letting Rocker feel every single inch as he stretched past his opening. The burn was exquisite, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure that had Rocker releasing a drawn out moan, his fingers scratching at the wall for something to hold on to. 

Deacon didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside him, his hips flush against Rocker’s ass. He leaned in close, his breath hot against the back of his neck. “You’ve been a brat all fucking night. I’m going to fuck you now, until the only thing you can think off is my name,” Deacon growled in his ear before pulling back and slamming into him.

The alley was soon filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and their harsh pants and groans. Every thrust of Deacon’s cock drove Rocker further into the wall, the rough brick scraping against his palms, grounding him even as Deacon sent him spiraling with every drag of his cock against his prostate, again and again. Rocker didn't know how much longer he could hold out, not with the way Deacon was hitting that perfect spot with such precision, making him feel like he was losing his mind. 

As if Deacon knew what he was feeling, his hand slipped around and upwards, until he was gripping Rocker’s throat, not squeezing, just holding, anchoring him. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire. “Taking me so well, sweetheart— like you were made for this.” Every word of his punctuated with a deliciously slow grind of his hips, before picking up speed again. 

Rocker whimpered, his knees threatening to buckle under the intensity of it all. But Deacon’s arm around his waist held him up, kept him in place as he fucked into him relentlessly. He could suddenly feel the tell tale signs of his orgasm approaching. 

“Dea…Deacon,” he gasped, sounding absolutely debauched. “I’m—I can’t—” 

“Not yet,” Deacon commanded, his thrusts slowing just enough to keep Rocker on the edge without letting him slip over it. “Not until I say so.” 

Rocker let out a frustrated whine. Under normal circumstances he would've been embarrassed at the sound but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. He kept bucking back against Deacon in a desperate attempt to chase his release. But Deacon was in control, and he wasn't about to let Rocker forget it. This was his punishment for endlessly pushing the other man tonight. Deacon reached around with his other hand and wrapped it around Rocker’s cock. He let out a sob at finally getting some friction on his cock and being closer to letting go, until Deacon moved his hand towards the base of his cock and gripped it hard, effectively stopping his release.

“You want to cum?” Deacon asked, his voice low and teasing. “Then say it.”

“Fuck, D— David, please!” Rocker begged, his voice breaking on Deacon’s name. “I’m yours, always yours. Just— please—’’

Deacon didn’t need to hear anything else. His thrusts picked up speed, hitting Rocker’s prostate dead on, while the hand gripping his cock matched the movement of his hips— moving faster, rougher, until Rocker was crying out, his body shaking as his orgasm tore through him. He felt like he was coming undone as his release hit the wall in front of him, his vision going white with the force of it. 

The way Rocker’s body tightened around him sent Deacon over the edge seconds later. “Donovan,” he moaned around his name as he thrust two, three times before slamming in one last time—burying himself as deep as he could as he painted the insides of Rocker’s walls with his cum. He felt a bone deep satisfaction at feeling Deacon’s warm release inside of him, feeling thoroughly claimed. 

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed together, both of them trembling and panting—breathing in sync as they came down from their high.

Deacon was the first to move, his hands gentle as he pulled out and helped Rocker straighten up. He felt Deacon’s cum sliding out of him before he felt the other man scooping it up and pushing it back inside him with his fingers. Rocker snorted, looking back at him. “Should’ve brought a plug if you wanted to keep it all inside.”

“It’s fine. I like knowing it 'll be dripping out of you for the rest of the night,” Deacon said, shrugging and tucking himself back into his jeans. He fixed Rocker’s jeans, his calloused hands brushing against his hips with a tenderness that starkly contrasted the earlier roughness. He tried not to think too hard about that. 

Rocker leaned against the wall, his legs still unsteady, trying to catch his breath. He smiled triumphantly when Deacon stepped back, his chest heaving like he was trying just as hard to pull himself together. 

The man had the nerve to frown at him, dark eyes raking over his face, his hair, his clothes—everything Rocker knew screamed just-fucked.

“You look like a mess,” Deacon muttered, his voice gruff but lacking its earlier edge. He was already stepping forward and smoothing down Rocker’s shirt, brushing against his sides, lingering just enough to make Rocker’s smile widen. 

“Yeah?” Rocker drawled, shifting his weight off the wall. “Whose fault is that?”

Deacon’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile but refused to let himself. Rocker tried to push past him confidently, only for his legs to wobble beneath him. He stumbled, and Deacon’s hands caught him instantly—strong, steady, and far too careful for someone who'd been railing him against the wall not too long ago. His heart twinged at the contrast, he knew how to handle rough and dirty, but sweet and gentle always twisted him up inside. He didn't have a right to that. That Deacon didn't belong to him. No matter how much he wanted him to. 

“Careful, Rocker,” Deacon murmured, his hands lingering on his arms before letting go. “You okay?” Deacon’s voice was low, almost hesitant now.

Rocker turned toward him, forcing a smirk. “Course I am,” he replied, brushing off the question with his trademark cocky behavior. “I always am.”

Deacon’s jaw tightened at that, but he didn’t press. He just nodded, his dark eyes lingering on Rocker’s for a moment too long before he turned toward the alley’s exit.

“Go ahead,” Rocker said casually, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops as if watching Deacon walk away from him wouldn't kill him. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Deacon hesitated. It was a fraction of a second, but Rocker caught it. And that hesitation—that silent moment where Deacon didn’t quite want to leave—it stung more than it should have. Then Deacon nodded once and walked back into the bar without another word.

Rocker waited until the door closed behind him before exhaling, his shoulders sagging. He pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to hold himself together, then laughed softly—self-deprecating and bitter.

“What are you doing, Donovan?” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. The chase, the push and pull, this little game they played was always exhilarating until he ended up here— watching Deacon’s back as he walked away from him. 

Rocker sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to regain some of his earlier confidence, before bracing himself and going back inside. Come on, you've always known what this is. Letting off some steam, nothing more, he thought to himself. 

When he stepped inside, the noise hit him like a wave—laughter, music, the clinking of glasses. Everything felt too bright, too loud, too normal. He spotted the team near the pool table, and there was Deacon, leaning against the edge, his arms crossed as he watched Luca line up a shot. He looked calm, composed, as if nothing had happened at all. 

Rocker envied him at that moment, his chest tightened, but he forced his grin back into place as he approached the group.

“There you are!” Street called, clapping him on the back. “Thought you got lost on the way to the bathroom.”

“Yeah, well,” Rocker drawled, picking up his beer and taking a swig, “you ever try navigating a bar with legs like mine after sitting too long? Takes a minute to get the circulation back.”

Luca snorted, Deacon’s lips twitched, and just like that, the tension eased a little.

Rocker leaned casually against the wall, letting the conversation wash over him. Deacon’s gaze flickered to him once—brief, almost imperceptible—but it was enough to send a jolt through Rocker’s chest. He turned his attention back to his beer, hiding the slight tremor in his hands.

Whatever this thing between them was, whatever it wasn’t—it didn’t matter. Not right now, anyway. They were here, together, surrounded by their team, their family. And for now, that was enough.

“Alright, who’s next?” Rocker asked, grabbing a pool cue and flashing a grin at Deacon. “Think you’ve got what it takes to beat me, Deac?”

Deacon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriating, perfect way. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Careful,” Rocker shot back, his grin widening despite himself. “Might have to make you prove it.”

For the first time that night, Deacon smiled fully—small, but genuine. And for now, that was more than enough.

[liliadrawingstuff]

OHHH MY GODDDDDD

Finally finished this WIP :')

Some of Faba's jewellry is missing I know,, I didn't want him poking Colress' eye out with that crown ;;

[harrysfolklore]

little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz absolutely hate each other. carlos thinks she’s immature, yn calls him a little bitch on social media. they also kiss every now and then. PART TWO

word count: over 10k + social media posts

folkie radio: guys this fic is my baby okay 🥲🥲 please take care of it i spent like two weeks writing it. FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2023 SEASON

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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 87,635 others

ynpiastri that’s my optimistic little brother cry about it 😚 see y’all after the break

view all 1,207 comments

username1 LAJSIA SO MESSY

username2 yn really said you will NAWT mess with my little brother

lilyzneimer Love you forever 😂

↳ ynpiastri ilysm

username3 the sainz - piastri drama just spiced this season up

mclaren That’s our boy 🧡

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri fighting on the internet and oscar is just 🧍

username5 the fact that daniel ricciardo and pierre gasly liked yn’s tweet too 😭

landonorris Stop fighting people on the internet please

↳username1 HELP HIS BESTIES ARE FIGHTING

↳ ynpiastri never 😤

oscarpiastri When nobody got me I know my messy sister got me

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SM

↳ yourinstagram HE SAID NO PICKLES !!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"You didn't have to tweet that," Oscar said, giving you a look from his seat.

You were currently traveling from Belgium to Monaco in McLaren's private jet after the race weekend, and the main topic of the day was your little message to Carlos Sainz after his statement about your brother.

"Osc, he's being a petty bitch," you shrugged, "He keeps blaming you for what happened on the track and we all know it was his fault."

"Lando, can you help me out please?" Oscar looked at his teammate, who was immersed on his phone as a way to avoid the conversation.

"Oh no, don't put me in the middle of this," Lando shook his head, "I have enough PR issues myself."

"We know you're siding with your bestie anyways," you said, making him roll his eyes.

This dynamic was nothing new. Lando and Carlos Sainz were best friends, and so were Lando and you. The issue? You couldn't stand Carlos at all, and Lando was always in the middle of your bickering.

Oscar sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced out of the window. "Look, I appreciate you standing up for me, but sometimes it's better to let things slide. Engaging with him on social media only adds fuel to the fire."

He had a point. Deep down you knew it, however, your were short tempered and protective towards your loved ones, so it was natural that you took the chance to come for Sainz's neck when he gave you a reason to.

"I get it, Osc. I just can't stand seeing him drag your name through the mud when you're not even at fault," you stressed, "You're my little brother, I'll always get protective, you know?"

"I know, and I appreciate you having my back," Oscar said, softening his tone. "But it's not worth it. Like you said, I'm not engaging with whatever he's saying so there's no point of starting stuff."

"He started it, I'm just finishing it," you shrugged, and Oscar gave you a pointed look, you were older than him, but he was definitely more mature than you. "Fine, I'll try to hold back next time," you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

Lando finally looked up from his phone, a smirk on his face. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it? Now, can we all be friends?"

"If that includes Sainz then no, we can't,"

You could never be friends with Carlos Sainz. That was literally impossible.

For starters, you were pretty sure he didn't even know your name, he was always too full of himself to even acknowledge those around him.

And lastly, he was a bitch to your brother on and off track.

"I just, I would really like for you two to get along," Lando said and you immediately rolled your eyes at his words, "You're both important to me, and it sucks being caught in the middle. Plus I don't even understand why do you dislike him so much."

You knew the real reason why you disliked him so much, you perfectly did. However, that was a subject that you decided to ignore every single time.

"Honestly? I find him arrogant. He always acts like he's the center of the universe. He never takes responsibility for his actions and always tries to shift the blame onto others. It's frustrating to watch."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it, but you have to understand, Carlos is actually a good guy once you get to know him. He's passionate and competitive, sure, but he's also loyal and a great friend."

"I get that he's like your hero or something," you teased, "But it's not going to happen, Lando. I don't think I'll ever like Carlos, and I really wish you’d stop pushing the subject."

"Look, you don't have to be his best friend or something," Oscar intervened, "Just promise me you won't punch him when you see him in the paddock after the summer break."

"No promises."

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ynpiastri a weekend in monaco with some of my favorite people 🤍 back to race cars soooon (love being a nepo sister)

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username1 SLAAAY

username2 ahhhh lily x oscar content thank u yn

francisca.cgomes having major fomo rn, love you all babies 🥲

↳ ynpiastri get over hereeeee

username3 she has the dream life

charles_leclerc Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you

↳ ynpiastri never

↳ alexandrasaintmleux We’re like this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t do this to me

lilyzneimer 🤍

oscarpiastri I think you just invented the term “nepo sister”

↳ ynpiastri and i’m too iconic for that

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Going to Jimmy'z the last day of the summer break was a tradition among the drivers at this point.

You looked forward to it, for you, nothing could beat a night of loud music, drinks and friends. You thought that was the reason you got along with Lando and quickly became best friends.

“Ready to tear up the dance floor?” Lando shouted over the music, giving you smirk

“Always!” you replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the center of the action, Oscar and Lily being their introvert selves decided to stay at the table with some of your friends.

After a few songs, you returned to the table to catch your breath and order another round of drinks.

Oscar looked up from his conversation with Lily and smiled as you approached.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you replied, taking a seat next to him. “You two should join us on the dance floor.”

Lily laughed softly. “Maybe later. Right now, we’re enjoying people-watching.”

“Suit yourselves,” you said, shrugging, "I'm going to the bar, does anyone want anything?"

Oscar shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"I'll have another gin and tonic," Lily said, giving you a warm smile.

"Got it," you replied, turning towards the bar.

As you made your way through the crowded club, you found an open spot at the bar and flagged down the bartender. As you waited for your drinks, you felt someone step up beside you. Glancing to your left, you saw the last person you wanted to run into tonight... or ever.

Carlos Sainz was standing there with what you called his "resting bitch face" and acting like he owned the place.

You knew chances of him being at Jimmy'z for the last day of the summer break were high and you had decided earlier that you were just going to ignore him for the night if you ever ran into him. After all, you were there to have fun, not to get into a confrontation. But you were known for being short-tempered, a stark contrast to your brother's laid-back demeanor.

When you heard Carlos order his drink without so much as a “please,” you couldn't help but call him out.

"Whiskey, neat," he ordered, his tone clipped and lacking any form of politeness, his Spanish accent that you found absolutely irritating coming through.

“A 'please' would be nice, you know,” you interjected.

Carlos turned to you, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you replied coolly. “It's not hard to be polite.”

"Do I know you?" Carlos stared at you for a moment before recognition dawned. “Oh you're Piastri's sister, aren't you?”

“That I am,” you confirmed, your tone equally cold.

“Figures," Carlos scoffed, shaking his head, "You’re the one who sent me that lovely message on Twitter.”

“You deserved every word,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Did I now?” Carlos leaned closer, his expression hardening. “You don't even know the whole story. You just assume I'm the bad guy because of Oscar."

“I know enough,” you shot back. “I know you never take responsibility for your actions. You always blame someone else.”

“And what about you?," Carlos’s jaw tightened, "Hiding behind your keyboard, throwing insults. That's real mature.”

“Someone had to say it,” you replied, refusing to back down. “You can't just go around acting like you're untouchable.”

“And you can't go around thinking you're some kind of vigilante,” Carlos retorted. “Can't your little brother handle things himself?.”

“Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, people wouldn't have to call you out,” you snapped, feeling your temper flare.

Carlos sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I don't have time for this. Just stay out of my way, alright?”

“Gladly,” you replied, turning away from him.

When you rejoined your friends, they noticed your tense expression. Lando shot you a questioning look, but you just shook your head.

"Ask you bestie," you simply said and Lando threw his head back in frustration, once again, he was in the middle of his two best friends tension.

“I’ll talk to him," Lando said, sipping on his drink.

"Don't bother, he's a bitch."

Later that night, Lando found Carlos near the dancefloor chatting with some friends. He pulled him aside, needing to get to the bottom of the latest incident.

“What happened with YN now?” Lando asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Carlos shrugged before speaking, “I was minding my own business, ordering a drink, and she just came at me."

“And?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“And she’s just so immature and arrogant,” Carlos continued, “She’s always ready to pick a fight over the smallest things. It’s embarrassing.”

Lando shook his head. “Look, Carlos, YN is protective of Oscar. She sees you two butting heads and she gets defensive. It’s not ideal, but it’s not like she’s completely unreasonable.”

“Well, she sure seems unreasonable to me," Carlos crossed his arms, "I don’t know how you deal with it.”

Lando sighed. “She’s my friend, and so are you. I wish you two could just get along, but I know that’s asking a lot. Just... try to give her a bit of slack, alright? She’s not a bad person.”

"She's insufferable."

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ynpiastri little bitches everywhere, always a pleasure monza

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username1 HEEEELP

username2 she’s so messy we needed this 😭

lilyzneimer I can’t wait to hear this rant in person

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username3 IS THIS CARLOS SHADEEEE

username4 not her adding the radio message

landonorris I would like to be excluded from this narrative

↳ ynpiastri scared of your boyfriend??

↳ username2 THEY’RE SO TALKING ABOUT CARLOS 😭

charles_leclerc Did you call me a little bitch?

↳ ynpiastri you’re literally the only ferrari i like..

↳ username3 she really hates carlos i’m screaming

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The Ferrari hospitality was the last place you wanted to be during a Grand Prix, the mere thought of it being the place where Sainz (or as you liked to call him, the little bitch), was most likely to be kept you away from it.

However, Alex told you to meet her there after the Qualifying so you could leave together for dinner. Oscar and Lando already left with the rest of the team, so you had no choice but to wait for your friend.

"Looking for someone, hermosa?" your eyes immediately rolled without even turning around to see who was speaking, the thick Spanish accent that you despised filling your ears.

"Not for you, that's for sure," you said, not even bothering to face him.

"Are you sure? Because this is not the McLaren garage, did your little bro finally kick you out or something?"

"Sainz," you retorted sharply, finally turning to face him, "Shouldn't you be busy making excuses for your next mediocre performance on track?"

"Ah, always so angry, Piastri," he chuckled, unfazed by your hostility, "Maybe you're just frustrated because you're not getting enough attention. I could help with that."

"I don't need or want anything from you," you shot back, your voice laced with irritation.

Carlos leaned casually against a nearby wall, his smirk widening. "Come on, hermosa, you know you've got a temper. Maybe you just need to let off some steam."

Hermosa, the word he used often when he wanted to get to your skin. When you first heard it, you had no idea of what it meant. You were never good at learning Spanish growing up. But after a quick google translation search you found out that it meant beautiful. And for some reason you felt like throwing up.

"Believe me, Sainz, you're the last person I'd ever turn to," you replied icily, folding your arms across your chest, "And don't call me that."

He chuckled again, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. You wondered how Lando could be friends with him when he was nothing but an arrogant little bitch, and you cursed Alexandra for taking so long to get her stuff from hospitality.

"I hope you know that you have some serious issues, Sainz," you said, your patience wearing thin as his cocky stare weighted on you.

"Issues? Me?," Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your anger, "I think you're the one with the problem, querida. Like I said, maybe you need to get laid. I could help you with that, your brother won't find out."

Your eyes narrowed, your blood boiled to the point where you could feel your skin burning up. If it wasn't for the all the people around, you swore you could've punched him.

You took a step closer to him, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I hope your car sets itself on fire so you're not able to race tomorrow."

Carlos's smirk only widened, he was well aware that he got into your skin and he enjoyed every minute of it. Before he could respond, Alex finally appeared, her eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Ready to go?" she asked, sensing the tension.

"More than ready," you replied, shooting Carlos one last glare before turning to leave with Alex.

The next day, news spread quickly through the paddock that Carlos' car had suffered a mechanical failure during the warm-up, rendering him unable to compete in the Qatar Grand Prix. Meanwhile, Oscar had won the Sprint and finished P2 in the race.

Karma got that little bitch, you thought to yourself

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynpiastri season over and out. super proud of you, rookie of the year @/oscarpiastri 🥹

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username1 i’m going to miss this season sm

username2 proud sisssss

mclaren One for the books 🧡

username3 thank you for fighting sainz online all season long bestie

landonorris Little Oscar is all grown up now

↳ ynpiastri don’t say that i’ll cry

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶

username4 highlight of the season was the piastri - sainz beef

↳ username1 not for lando 😭

oscarpiastri Thank you for always supporting me (creating drama online and all) Love you so much ❤️

↳ ynpiastri that’s what big sisters are for

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The end of the 2023 season was a blur of celebrations, laughter, and champagne showers. Oscar had closed off the season as the Rookie of the Year and you couldn't be more proud of him, you were grateful you got to be by his side through it.

And of course, with the end of the season a celebration at Jimmy'z was in order, all drivers, their girlfriends and friends pulling up to Monaco for one last night of partying before the winter break.

You had stuck close to Lando and Oscar for most of the evening, since it was a special occasion, you decided not to hold back with your drinking and have as much fun as you wanted, Lando being your partner in crime as always.

So by 2 a.m, you were pretty drunk, not to the point where you couldn't stand on your own feet, but drunk enough to make a couple of bad decisions.

With that thought on your mind, you decided that it was time to find your brother or best friend and call it a night. But for some reason, both of them were nowhere to be found.

Stumbling through the crowded dance floor, you made your way toward the back of the club, hoping to spot them. The alleyway was dark and you couldn't see a single thing, but they weren't definitely back there.

"Fancy seeing you here, hermosa," a voice behind drawled, almost making you jump.

"What the actual fuck!" you said, holding a hand to your chest.

Of course it was fucking Carlos Sainz, once again

"You scared the hell out of me!" you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, "Do you hide in dark alleyways like a creep all the time?"

"Slow down, hermosa, why are you so angry all the time?" his Spanish accent was thicker than usual, a clear sign that he was as tipsy as you were.

"I'm not in the mood for your games tonight," you retorted, trying to brush past him.

"Relax, I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, blocking your path with an easy grace. "Though you do seem to find me wherever you go."

"Only because you insist on being everywhere I am," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.

"Or maybe you just can't resist my charm," he teased, leaning casually against the wall.

"Charm? Is that what you call it?" you scoffed, "More like arrogance and an inflated ego."

"Arrogance? No. Confidence? Absolutely," he replied with a smirk, "And I think you secretly like it."

"You're delusional," you muttered, feeling the alcohol clouding your judgment. "I can't stand you."

"Is that so?" he said, stepping closer. "Because you seem pretty invested in this conversation for someone who supposedly hates me."

True

"Maybe because you won't let me leave," you said, your voice rising in frustration.

"Or maybe because you've spent the entire season trying to get my attention by being rude to me and blasting me on social media, calling me a little bitch and all."

"I was defending Oscar," you snapped. "You kept messing with him on track. Someone had to call you out."

Carlos shook his head, his cocky smirk even bigger now. "It was never about Oscar, and you know it."

"God, I hate you," you said, ready to walk away but he blocked your way one more time.

"No, you don't," he replied, a knowing smile on his lips. "You just hate that you can't help but get all hot and bothered whenever I'm around."

"You're really are such a little bitch," you spat, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt a strange thrill.

"And you're a firecracker, Piastri. That's what makes this so fun."

"You're so full of yourself," you retorted, but the words lacked their usual bite. The alcohol was making it hard to keep up your defenses, and Carlos's close proximity was doing strange things to your resolve.

"Maybe," he conceded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But I think you like it more than you let on."

Before you could argue back, Carlos took another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself unable to pull away.

"You're infuriating," you muttered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"And you," he said, his breath warm against your ear, "are insufferable."

Without another word, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, almost desperate kiss. It was a collision of anger, frustration, and undeniable chemistry, and you couldn't help but respond in kind.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands roamed down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

What the hell was happening?

For a moment, all the animosity, all the bickering, melted away. It was messy, it was intense, and it was everything you hadn't realized you wanted.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you could see the same mix of surprise and desire reflected in Carlos' eyes.

Before either of you could say anything, you were interrupted by Lando's voice calling out your name. You quickly stepped back, putting some distance between you and Carlos as Lando approached, a curious look on his face.

"Everything okay here?" Lando asked, glancing between the two of you.

"Just fine," you replied, giving Carlos a final, challenging look. "Just fine."

Carlos nodded, his smirk returning. "See you around, Piastri."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between lando and yn

texts between carlos and lando

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2024 SEASON

Formula 1 was back and in full swing. And with that your "nepo sister" privileges, which included traveling with Oscar for races came back too.

You were excited for this season, Oscar was no longer a rookie and he had a lot to prove, and you couldn't wait to see him rise to the challenge.

In addition to that, this season was going to be extra interesting, since the news of your least favorite driver on the grid (or at least the one you swore you hated) being replaced by Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari were announced a few weeks prior.

"Did you hear the news?" Oscar asked, making his way to you.

"What news?" you replied, setting down your coffee cup.

"Lewis Hamilton is moving to Ferrari next season," Oscar said, watching your reaction closely.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? So the little bitch is out?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be an interesting season."

Carlos Sainz was both a source of irritation and inexplicable attraction. You had tried to push the memory of that kiss at Jimmy'z to the back of your mind all winter long, but you just couldn't stop thinking about it.

Plus, Lando was firm on his mission of making wither of you confess that apparently you "liked each other", which made ignoring the whole situation even harder.

You just hoped that he would keep it chill this season, not bothering either you or Oscar so you could just pretend he didn't exist.

With that thought on your mind, you made your way back to the hotel. You spent the day exploring around Bahrain with Oscar and Lando, and now you were ready to unwind in your room. The boys deciding to spend a few more hours walking around before heading back.

Once in the lobby, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for your floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a familiar hand slipped in, forcing them open.

Carlos Sainz stepped inside, his ever-present smirk firmly in place.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say.

"Not going to say hello, querida?" he said after a few seconds of complete silence from you, leaning against the elevator wall.

"Carlos. Still popping up where you're least wanted, I see," you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest.

"Missed you too, Piastri," he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stand closer you, "How was your break?"

"Great, thanks for asking," you replied coolly. "Did you enjoy yours, planning how to be a pain to other drivers this season too?"

"Is that really how you want to start our first conversation of the season?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, "I though we've left that in the past, specially after what happened at the end of last year."

You tensed at his statement. More than once during the break, you wondered if he remembered what happened that night. He was as drunk was you were, if not more, so you convinced yourself that he had forgotten about it.

"I don't remember much from that night. Must have been the champagne."

Carlos leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "Oh, I think you remember perfectly well. Especially the kiss."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you," he said with a chuckle. "But fine, we'll pretend it never happened. For now."

"Good," you replied sharply. "Because I have no intention of discussing it."

"Maybe you're playing dumb because you want me to kiss you again," Carlos teased, making you throw your head back in frustration.

"I'd rather choke on my own spit, little bitch,"

"Ahh, missed hearing that," Carlos said, his tone cocky and satisfied with your frustration. You mentally cursed the elevator for taking so long to get to your fucking floor.

"You know what? I hope you don't find a seat for next season at all. You act like a total peacock when everyone knows you're basically unemployed right now," you spitted out before you could even think twice.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his expression momentarily serious. "Low blow, Piastri. Even for you."

You held his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. "Just stating the obvious."

The elevator finally dinged, announcing your floor, and you stepped out swiftly, eager to end the conversation before it could escalate further.

Carlos Sainz had a way of getting under your skin like no one else, and the season had only just begun.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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username1 ICON IS BACKKKK

username2 nooo we need you to keep dragging sainz

mclaren Our favorite nepo sister 🧡

↳ ynpiastri that’s meeee

username3 yn always gives us lily x oscar content bless her

charles_leclerc What if I need you to fight someone from the grid for me?

↳ ynpiastri you know there’s one person i would gladly drag through the mood

↳ username1 HER HATRED FOR CARLOS LIVES

lilyzneimer love youuu✨

oscarpiastri Cute picture of me and Lily, thank u sis

↳ ynpiastri i’m just here for my babies 🫡

landonorris I know your reasons

↳ ynpiastri you’re so strange sometimes

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It was a sunny day in Melbourne, and the paddock was buzzing with excitement. The Australian Grand Prix was always a favorite, and this year was no exception.

You felt good to be back home, you always felt proud when you saw Oscar on the track, but seeing him racing in your home country was something even more special.

Carlos was also back from his emergency surgery and ready to race again. And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were relieved to see him back and healthy. The news of his appendicitis had shocked you more than you’d expected, and you’d found yourself genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

I'm just being a decent human being, you tried to convince yourself, It would be really scary if that happened to Oscar or Lando.

Walking through the paddock, you looked for a familiar face to hang out with before it was time for the track action to start, spotting Lando's back talking to someone you couldn't quite identify, you decided to approach him.

As you got closer, Lando shifted slightly, revealing the person he was talking to, Carlos.

He looked well, a healthy glow back in his cheeks, his smile easy and relaxed. He was wearing his team gear, the Ferrari red suiting him perfectly. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and despite the casual setting, he looked effortlessly handsome for someone who had a major surgery just two weeks ago.

Your stomach did a little flip. You hated to admit it, but lately your hatred towards Carlos had cooled down. Maybe it was the memory of that kiss, seeing him vulnerable after his surgery or the fact that he had been decent to Oscar so far. You couldn't deny that there was something about him that made you feel… softer.

However, you decided to ignore those thoughts and feelings every time they got to your head, because at the end of the day, there was no way he could ever feel or think the same way. It was better to keep hating each other.

Lando noticed you approaching and gave you a teasing grin. "Hey, YN! Look who’s back from the dead!"

Carlos turned to face you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Hey, Piastri," he greeted with a warm smile. "Back to your home turf, huh?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the flutter in your chest. "It feels good to be back."

Lando gave Carlos a pat on the shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later, mate," he said, winking at you before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

You stood there for a moment, awkward silence filling the air. Maybe he was still tired from what he had been through, but he didn't show any signs of cockiness or wanting to annoy you this time.

"You look well," you finally said, your voice softer than usual. "I'm glad you're back."

Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I heard you were worried about me."

"Don't let it go to your head," you replied quickly, though the usual bite in your tone was missing. You felt a bit embarrassed that he knew, "I’m just being a decent human being."

"Of course," Carlos said, his voice nonchalant, "Decent human being, sure."

"I’m serious," you insisted, though your voice lacked the usual edge. "But I am glad you’re okay. It must have been scary."

Carlos’s expression softened. "It was. But I had good doctors, and I’m ready to race again. Thanks for worrying."

There was silence again, and you noticed that this was the first time you and Carlos had an interaction that didn't include biting each other's heads off.

It felt nice.

"Well," you said after a minute of silence, "don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you had surgery. You're still on my watch."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Carlos smirked, "But for the record, it’s nice to see you care, even if you won’t admit it."

"Don't push your luck, Sainz," you warned, but there was a hint of playfulness in your voice.

"I wouldn't dare, Piastri."

"I should get going," you said, pointing towards the McLaren hospitality, "Good luck out there."

As you turned to walk away, Carlos's voice stopped you in your tracks.

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"You know, this is the first time you don't call me a little bitch," Carlos said, a small playing on his face.

"What, you miss it already? Does it turn you own?"

"Maybe a little," Carlos chuckled, "Keeps things interesting."

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread across your face.

"Well, good luck out there, little bitch."

You didn't wait to see his reaction, but you knew he was grinning from ear to ear.

Later that day, Carlos crossed the finish line first and won the Australian Grand Prix, sending the crowd into a frenzy. You watched as Carlos celebrated on the podium, spraying champagne with Lando and Charles and holding up the winner's trophy with pride.

You swore you played it cool, but everyone around you noticed the huge smile on your face.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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username1 AUSSIE QUEEN

username2 omfg included a picture of sainz win??

↳ username1 how pissed do you think she was bc he won in australia

↳ username3 i love that she didn’t tag him tho 😭

alexandrasaintmleux Mama piastri >> 🫶

↳ ynpiastri our real queen

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username4 surprised that she didn’t blur carlos in the podium pic

landonorris Please don’t make me do a shoey ever again

↳ username2 OMFG I NEED TO SEE THAT

↳ oscarpiastri Aussie traditions mate

↳ ynpiastri cry baby

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"You're not my best friend," Lando said, sitting on the plush couch of your hotel room, watching as you put a sweatshirt on, "You've been replaced with an alien or an evil twin, there's no way you're YN Piastri."

"Can you quit being dramatic," you rolled your eyes at him, "It's no big deal."

"You're grabbing sushi with Carlos Sainz," he stressed, moving his hands to emphasize, "You hate Carlos Sainz, it's been an issue for me for the last year because both of you force me to pick sides and I have to make sure you don't kill each other. And now you're suddenly going on dates."

"This is not a date," you protested, "Don't even say that out loud, it's gross."

"Then what is it? Because he asked you out and you said yes, that's literally a date."

You didn't give him a reply right away, hiding behind your your busy hands as you pretended to adjust your sweatshirt.

Truth was, you didn’t have an answer, at least not one that made sense. You couldn't blame Lando for thinking you've been replaced with someone else, because you'd never accept anything from Carlos last year, let alone willingly grab dinner with him.

But here you were, about to head out to meet him.

"I just want free dinner," you shrugged, "And he offered to buy it, so I'm taking advantage of it."

"Sure, free dinner," Lando gave you a skeptical look, crossing his arms, "Because you’ve never had other options for free dinner before, right? Your brother is rich, he could buy you whatever you want."

You huffed, trying to sound annoyed but feeling a bit defensive. "It's just sushi, Lando. Stop making it a big deal."

"You know, it's okay if you like him," he said, his tone genuine. "I mean, I get why you're hesitant, but it's fine to have feelings for someone, even if it's Carlos Sainz."

"Are you out of your mind?" you immediately said, your voice sharper than intended, "We're talking about the little bitch, what on earth makes you think that I could have feelings for him other than disgust and irritation."

"I don't know, maybe the fact that you're getting ready to get dinner with him, or that you were on the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was recovering from the surgery, or the time I almost caught you kiss-"

"God, just shut up," you interrupted him, "Oscar would understand. He knows I'm never going to get all lovey-dovey over Carlos."

"Oscar might buy whatever you tell him," Lando raised an eyebrow, "But that doesn't mean you're being honest with yourself. It's not the end of the world to admit you might have a crush."

"I do not have a crush on him," you insisted, your cheeks heating up. "It's just... complicated."

"Complicated how?" Lando pressed, leaning forward. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks pretty straightforward. You’re intrigued by him, he’s intrigued by you, and you both can’t seem to stay away from each other."

You let his words sink in, Lando might be a year younger than you, and often perceived as a carefree guy who didn't have a serious bone in his body. But in reality, he was a very wise person who understood the complexities of situations better than most.

That was one of the reasons why he was your best friend.

"Look, it’s not that simple," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "We have history, and not the good kind. I don't trust him, and I don’t think he trusts me either. We're just… trying to be civil for once."

"That's good," Lando stood up from the couch, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Honestly I was tired of dealing with your constant bickering, if you didn't kiss and make up on your own, I was going to lock you up in a closet until you resolved it."

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ynpiastri just decent human being things

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username1 BESTIEEEE

username2 THIS LOOKS LIKE A DATE

alexandrasaintmleux I just texted you !!!

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

f1gossip 👀

username3 CARLOS SAINZ ???

↳ username1 girl no way they hate each other

↳ username2 he’s in the likes tho 😭

landonorris IM FREEEEE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFEEEE

↳ username1 wtfffff

oscarpiastri Answer my texts right now please

↳ username1 IM SCREAMING

↳ username2 OSCAR 😩

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After a nice dinner and a couple of drinks, you and Carlos walked back to the hotel. The sushi had been surprisingly good, and the conversation… surprisingly pleasant.

The bickering between you was still present, but this time it wasn't harsh or spiteful, it was playful and and light-hearted. The tension that usually accompanied your interactions had lessened, and you actually acted friendly towards each other.

"I still can't believe you made me try that weird seaweed thing," you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked.

"You loved it, admit it," Carlos chuckled.

"Maybe a little," you conceded with a small smile, "How did you know this place anyways?"

"I like reading restaurant reviews online," he shrugged, "It's a random hobby of mine, and I'm going to need those in case I don't have a job next year."

You paused, his words sinking in. Carlos joked about it, but you knew the uncertainty of his future in Formula 1 must be horrible. The sport is cutthroat, and the thought of not finding a seat to race must be weighing on him heavily. It made you think about Oscar, and how that could happen to him too.

"I'm sorry for saying that I hope you don't find a seat next season," you blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt. "You're right, that was low, even for me."

"Are you really apologizing, Piastri?" he teased, "First you cared about my health, now you apologize. What's next? You'll stop calling me a little bitch?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice behind it. "Don't push your luck, Sainz. Just take the apology and run with it."

"Alright, I'll take it," Carlos laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat, "You must be praying I stay just so you have an excuse to argue with me, aren't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you shot back, grinning. "I can argue with anyone."

"But you like arguing with me the most," he said, his voice softening.

You didn't reply, the truth in his words making your heart race. From the corner of your eye, you saw the satisfied grin on his face.

Soon enough you reached the hotel lobby, and once you walked through the doors you spotted Charles and Alexandra by the reception desk.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Charles called out, drawing the attention of Alex, who looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Just coming back from dinner," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. "What are you two up to?"

"We were just about to head up," Alexandra said, linking her arm with Charles's. "How was dinner?"

"Surprisingly good," Carlos said, glancing at you with a smirk.

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "This is new. You two actually getting along?"

"Don't get used to it," you said, rolling your eyes. "I just wanted free dinner."

"Right," Charles said, not convinced. "Well, we're heading up, you coming?"

You all piled into the elevator, the small space filled with a mix of comfortable silence and light conversation. When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out, Carlos following close behind.

"Goodnight, guys," Alex called out as the elevator doors closed, giving you a look that screamed 'TEXT ME ASAP'

Carlos walked you to your room, the hallway dimly lit and quiet. As you walked side by side, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sent small shivers down your spine.

"So, the only reason you agreed to come with me tonight was because you wanted free dinner?" Carlos asked once you reached your room.

"Exactly, what else do you think would make me want to spend an evening with you?"

Carlos chuckled, leaning against the wall beside your door. "I don't know, maybe my charming personality and good looks?"

"Charming?" you raised your eyebrows at him, "You're literally the most annoying person I know."

"Likewise, Piastri," Carlos shot back, his smirk widening, "But here we are, aren't we?"

"You really think you're that special, don't you?" you said, rolling your eyes.

"I know I am, querida," Carlos replied, stepping closer. "And you can't get enough of me."

You looked away from him, his stare suddenly becoming overwhelming. He was really close, as close as he was the night you kissed at Jimmy'z, and even thinking about it has your neck crawling away in sweat.

"See? You can't even deny it." Carlos grinned, his eyes locking onto yours again, his voice dropping an octave as he took another step closer.

"Don't get any ideas," you warned, but your heart was racing, and you were sure he could hear it.

"I can't help it," he said softly, his face now inches from yours. "You bring out the best in me, Piastri."

"I still hate you," you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned in even closer.

"No, you don't," Carlos whispered back, his lips brushing against yours.

Before you could protest, he closed the distance and kissed you. It was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn't, the kiss deepened, becoming more intense and filled with a raw passion that took your breath away.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you kissed him back, losing yourself in the moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a small smile playing on Carlos's lips.

"Goodnight, Piastri," he whispered, his voice husky.

Unable to move from your spot, you watched him walk through the corridor and disappear into the elevator doors, your mind still blurry about what happened just seconds ago.

You were fucked.

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TWITTER

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A playlist full of pop classics played as you got ready for Lando's millionth win celebration.

He took the win at the Miami Grand Prix and the next following days were full of partying and champagne. You were beyond happy for him, and willing to put up with his multiple celebrations of his well deserved win.

This time, the setting was not that over the top, just a casual dinner at his place in Monaco with his close friends.

"Can I come in?" you heard after a knock on Oscar's guest bedroom, the place where you stayed when visiting Monaco.

"Sure," you replied, quickly meeting with your brother's figure.

Oscar entered the room, a casual grin on his face. He glanced around before his eyes settled on you. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah," you replied, adjusting an earring. "I hope this is Lando's last celebration, I can't keep up anymore.

"He's definitely on a roll," Oscar chuckled, "You know, Carlos is going to be there."

"I know," you said, looking away from him for a moment and trying to keep your tone nonchalant.

"You do?" Oscar raised a eyebrow.

"He's Lando's best friend, Osc, it's obvious he'll be there."

Oscar nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Right, of course. But you two have been getting close lately, haven't you? You didn't even come for his neck after Miami, and you always do that."

You sighed, knowing where this conversation was heading. There was no denying that there was something between you and Carlos, your friends might not know about the times you've kissed, but they definitely noticed the shift in your behavior towards each other.

You found yourself enjoying his company, looking forward to catch a glimpse of him every weekend and craving his touch. You don't know if he feels the same way, but the way he looks at you and finds ways to get you alone tells you he does.

Admitting this to Oscar felt like crossing a line, even though he had always encouraged you to be open about your feelings.

"We're just… getting along better. That's all," you muttered, "And you asked me to behave on social media this season, I'm trying to do that."

"That's bullshit, YN," Oscar shook his head, a teasing smile forming on his lips, "Come on, admit it. Maybe the real reason you didn't attack him this time is because you like him."

"Oscar, we're not having this conversation," you quickly became defensive, "I don't know why everyone insist on something that's far from the truth. I don't like Sainz."

"Sis, it's okay if you like him," Oscar said, his tone gentle but insistent. "You don't have to hide it from me."

You looked away, feeling conflicted. Ever since you first met Carlos, there was something about him that intrigued you, however, you were too caught up in convincing yourself that he would never see you as more than his brand new rival's sister. Things getting worse when his incidents with Oscar on track started and you took that as an opportunity to be reckless to him.

It was a self defense mechanism for your own feelings.

"It's complicated, okay?" you said, feeling vulnerable but knowing you could trust him, "We spent last year coming from each other's necks all the time, but now he's nice to me and I am too, we spend time together, we kiss. But at the same time, I feel like I can't trust him, that he's going to switch to little bitch mode again and I'll end up feeling stupid for potentially catching feelings."

"Holy shit you've kissed!" Oscar said, his eyes widening, "Lando was right all along."

"Oh god, I shouldn't have said anything," you threw your head back in frustration.

"Sorry, sorry," he put his hands up in defense, "But It's okay to feel confused. You can talk to me, you know. I'm your brother, and I just want you to be happy. I can tell that this is really bothering you."

You sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I just don't know what to do, Osc. One minute I think I might actually like him, and the next I'm terrified of getting hurt."

"Look, I know Carlos can be intense on track, but off track? He's a good guy," Oscar sat beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "When he's not trying to push me off the track, he's really supportive and a nice guy. There's a reason why Lando adores him. Plus, maybe he's figuring things out too."

You leaned into Oscar's side, grateful for his comforting presence. "Do you really think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Oscar nodded reassuringly. "And you deserve to give yourself a chance at happiness. If Carlos could make you happy, then why not see where it goes?"

"When did you become so wise?" you teased, giving him a small smile, "You're supposed to be my annoying little brother who picks his nose and runs around the house."

"Hey, I can be wise when I want to be," Oscar chuckled, giving you a playful shove, "But don't worry, I'll always be your annoying little brother, nose-picking and all."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from your shoulders. "Thanks, Osc. I needed this."

"Anytime, sis," Oscar said warmly, giving you a quick hug. "Now, come on. Lando is probably drunk already and we haven't made it to his house yet."

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ynpiastri the rumors are true: lando norris keeps celebrating his miami win even tho it’s been a week

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username1 so iconic tbh

username2 EXCUSE ME MISS IS THAT CARLOS SAINZ IN THE LAST PIC ??

↳ username1 i thought they hated each other 😭

danielricciardo 🙌

alexandrasaintmleux 👀 I see you

↳ ynpiastri and i don’t see you over her which means your boyfriend sucks for not bringing you

↳ charles_leclerc …..

landonorris IM V DRVNK OMG

↳ username3 i love him 😭😭😭😩

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri the ultimate enemies to lovers lowkey

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You're not sure how it happened, but Carlos' arm laid casually in the back of your chair as you chatted with those around you. His fingers gently brushed your bare shoulder from time to time, his thigh pressed to yours under the table.

Maybe it was the couple glasses of champagne you both had, you're not sure. But you definitely didn't want to move from your spot.

No one dared to say anything about it, but your friends had teasing grins at the sight. You knew you'll have to deal with them later, but you decided to ignore it for the night.

"Alright, I think I'm calling it a night," Oscar said as he got up from his chair, Lando immediately booed, "Are you coming, YN?"

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, you definitely didn't want to leave yet, feeling too comfortable in Carlos' presence. In addition to that, you haven't had a chance to get him alone, and that was enough to not want the night to end.

After a minute of silence from you, Carlos spoke up, "I can give her a ride home if she doesn't want to leave yet," he offered, his voice smooth and nonchalant.

"Oh, a private chauffeur service now, Carlos? How fancy," Max teased from across the table, making the entire group laugh.

Oscar hesitated, glancing between you and Carlos, his protective instincts kicking in. "Are you okay with that, YN?"

"Yeah, I'm okay with it," you met Oscar's eyes and nodded, "Or I can just crash here, Lando is too drunk to notice anyway, don't want to cause much trouble."

"It's really no trouble," he insisted, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder. "I'll make sure you get home safely."

Oscar seemed to relax a bit, though you could tell he was still a little uneasy. "Alright then. Just... be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Osc," you replied, standing up and giving him a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As Oscar left, the group continued to tease and laugh. You always enjoyed when the drivers were in a casual setting like this one, where they could forget about competition and teams and just hang out and have fun.

You stayed glued to Carlos the entire time, getting even closer as the night went on, you could feel your eyelids getting heavy, so you laid your head on his shoulder.

"You're falling asleep on me, hermosa," Carlos whispered to you, not moving your head from its place.

"I'm not," you protested, but at the same time you did a yawn escaped your mouth, which made Carlos laugh.

"Come on let's get you home," Carlos offered you his hand.

You took Carlos' hand, not even thinking twice about it. As you both stood to leave, your friends couldn't resist one last round of teasing.

"No funny business, Carlos," Charles called out, grinning widely. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. "We have Oscar on speed dial."

"Yeah, don't make me come after you, that's also my sister," Lando added, too drunk to even make sense.

You laughed, waving goodbye to everyone as you and Carlos made your way out. The cool night air was refreshing as you walked to his car, your hand still in his.

The drive to Oscar's place was quiet but comfortable. Carlos kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console close to you. You found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the streetlights played over his features.

At one point, Carlos glanced over and caught you staring. "You're staring," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up but didn't look away. "Maybe I am," you replied, a teasing edge in your voice. "You have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Piastri. Not at all."

When you arrived at Oscar's place, Carlos parked the car but you made no move to get out. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.

"Are you ready to stop pretending we hate each other?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice low and earnest. "Because I am."

His words hung in the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. The intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't playing around or teasing you. He was being real and serious.

You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his. "Yeah, I am."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and hunger. The world outside the car ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the way his kiss made you feel.

Carlos' other hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pressed you closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on as if letting go meant losing this moment forever.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Carlos' eyes searched yours, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"But… I'm not ready to stop calling you a little bitch, though."

[gilverrwrites]

I love imaging Dick, Tim, and Damian sneaking around trying to meet Jasons new gf because they just wanna be involved in his life and they know if they they leave it to Jay they wont meet her u til they're married with kids 😭

AND ‘omg us meeting Jason’s siblings when’

AN: Ngl I love this idea too, its so shitty of them but they have the best of intentions.

Damian

A boy no older than 14 with eyes that pierce the soul was not what you'd expected to find on Jason's couch the very first time he'd left you alone there. Jason had to dip out unexpectedly early, and had promised you run of the place until he got back so you'd slept in as long as you could and were on your way to make breakfast when you're greeted by the hell-child.

Once your initial fright wears off you realise you recognize him from a photo Jay had showed you which makes you feel slightly more at ease.

“Good morning? Damian right?” You offer as you pass him, be-lining for the coffee machine, you're gonna need caffeine if you're meeting any member of Jay's family for the first time. “Can I get you anything?”

“Alfred says it's unbecoming to sleep past 9.” Besides the initial glare he'd graced you with as you emerged from the bedroom, he doesn't even look up at you, his eyes glued to the pages of a book. Like brother like brother, you guess.

“Oh, well. Good thing Alfreds not here then.” You add a small laugh, trying to inject some humour to the situation. Damian does not respond in kind. “Is that a no? I think there's some chocolate cereal around here somewhere.”

“What do you do for work that allows you to be in my brother's home in the middle of the day?”

Jeez this kid is no-nonsense. “Or I could make pancakes, I make really good pancakes.”

“And tell me what exactly are your intentions with my baby brother?” Baby?

“I think there's some chocolate chips around here somewhere. Jason says you like chocolate. Chocolate pancakes?”

“Do you always avoid questions?”

“Are you always so intense?”

He slams the book closed and you nearly jump on the spot. He finally looks at you, really looks at you and as you stare back his features begin to soften slightly.

“I’ll have a coffee.”

You're certain from the sly look on his face that he's probably not allowed coffee. He certainly doesn't need any. But screw it, he's not your kid and if it gets him to like a little, you'll take the risk.

So you pour two coffees and join him on the couch. His questions do not cease until Jason returns about an hour later. He couldn't care less about the coffee, but he does care about Damian breaking in to interrogate his partner and immediately kicks Damian out.

Dick

Dick finds out about your existence from one of Damian’s letters, and he's subtle but pushy about meeting you. Not that you're aware. He keeps ‘dropping by’ Jason's apartment ‘just to see his lil brother’, no other reason but is told to get lost or downright ignored anytime you're there, until he decides to cut out the middle man and turn up at your home instead.

“Let me tell you, you are a hard person to get a hold of.” He informs as he invites himself through your front door.

“Um, hello Dick?” As you stare at his lush hair and sculpted abs you wonder what Alfred feeds these boys.

“Yep! I can't stay so I’ve gotta make this quick.” he gestures for you to come closer, speaking in a playful, conspiratorial whisper. “Jay doesn't know I'm here.”

That would be why he can't stay, Jason is due at your door any minute now.

“But you two seem to be getting pretty serious and I think it's important that we all get to know each other. You following?”

You nod, and he gives you the perkiest, most genuine smile. That or he has that exact look practised to a T. From what Jay tells you, either is possible.

“So, Barbara and I, that's my wife” You nod once more, you're aware of Barbara also. “have booked a table at Casa Gotica for Thursday night. We need you to get Jason there without letting on that it's a double date.”

“I don’t know.” you finally give your nodding head a break. “Jay and I don’t lie to each other.”

“Right. I can't begrudge that. Very glad to hear he's picked an honest one.” He takes a moment to straighten his thoughts, but his moment is cut short but the echo of Jason’s combat boots approaching your door. Dick’s eyes rapidly scan the room for a secondary exit before he settles on an open window. “Don't think of it as lying, think of it as omitting the truth. Whatever you have to do just be there for 6.30. Oh, and it's great to meet you!”

“You too.”

“Thursday, 6.30!”

Before you can agree he’s gone, presumably scaling the side of your building as Jay steps inside.

Tim

Tim was actually the first to be aware of you and your relationship with his brother, however, the very real possibility of being gutted by Jason for snooping in his personal life was too high for him to make a move.

But you seeking him out is a different story; or rather, you being the first to say hi when you bump into each other in line at the grocery store is different. It would be rude not to respond to your attempts at initiating a conversation.

“Hello, hi, are you Tim? You don't know me but I’m Jasons partner. Its so great to meet you.”

“I know who you are.” He states rather ominously, eyes darting around behind you. “Is he here?”

“No, but he's picking me up after.” His shoulders visibly ease.

“Cool cool cool.” He’s suddenly much more personable. “So, I hear you're into…”

That chatting doesn't dry or lul at all as the queue dwindles and both buy your groceries. He waits with you until you get confirmation from Jay that he's on his way. He's easily the chillest sibling you've met thus far.

When Jason arrives he gets out of the car to open the boot and passenger door for you as always, but not before he thrusts his phone in your face. “Where is he?”

Displayed on the screen is a selfie of Tim with you in the background, you absolutely do not remember it being taken.

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[martiniluvr]

I just cannot get over the thought of Jason Todd cooing while you take his massive cock, talking you through the pain of stretching you out on it the first time, and giggling at each other from euphoria because of just how much love there is between you two AHHHH 😭

this ask is so good I had to let it marinate in my mind…anon take these flowers I beg 💐

18+ minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

“jay…” you say apprehensively, trailing off as you bite your lip. your eyes are fixed on jason todd’s huge body hovering above you, and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. you look down anxiously at his hard cock resting right below your bellybutton and smearing your skin with precum, and instantly avert your gaze. fuck, that’s big.

“I don’t—um…I don’t think it’s…” you trail off, your cheeks burning. despite your nerves, you feel your arousal drooling out of you. he smiles and shakes his head lightly, reaching down to run his fingers over your entrance.

“don’t worry ‘bout that,” he coos, collecting your wetness on his fingertips as you shudder. “look at me, ma.” you tear yourself away from the sight of his length, meeting his stare. “that’s right. just keep lookin’ at me. you’re gonna be fine.”

his hand comes down to pump his cock, spreading your slick onto his shaft as he aligns himself between your legs. after a pause, he sinks the tip in, and you suck in a sharp breath at the stinging in your walls as he penetrates you. he pauses halfway to allow you to adjust to his girth, his brows furrowing at your tightness. shit, you feel good around him. you let out a whine at the unfamiliar feeling of his size, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“fuck…you’re doin’ good, ma,” he says, the muscles between his shoulder blades tensing. “c’mon, princess, just relax for me. worst part’s almost over, hmm? just a little more.” his words are strained with need; he’s holding himself back from fucking you like he wants to, the way a pretty cunt like yours deserves to be used. soon, he tells himself. soon.

“ready?” he asks, his green eyes searching yours. you nod anxiously, and he bottoms out inside you with a groan. you gasp at the flash of pain as he stretches you, right as jason’s hand comes up to caress your cheek. he looks down at your expression, with your eyes screwed shut and your lower lip trapped between your teeth, and lets out a soft laugh. god, you’re pretty.

“hey, eyes on me, ma,” he rasps gently. you pry your eyelids open to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “that’s right, baby. fuck—doin’ so good.” he rocks his hips gently, and you let out a quiet moan despite the ache. “so fuckin’ good for me.” he thrusts again, a little deeper this time, and you notice the stinging is starting to subside, pleasure gradually taking its place. you moan again, louder this time.

“startin’ to feel it, huh, baby?” he murmurs, his eyes glancing down at your stretched pussy taking him in. heat pools in your chest as you hum in agreement, a sheepish giggle escaping you when jason’s eyes lock back onto yours. he chuckles in return, before planting a longing kiss on your lips as his hips continue to rock slowly.

you whine into him, wrapping your legs around his waist to signal that you’re ready for more; he smiles against your lips as his arm snakes around your back, locking your body against his. oh, you poor thing. you have no idea what you’re in for.

[caotictimmy]

if you're doing mouthwashing can i have daisuke x reader hcs plz... just pretend the tulpar never crashed i want him to be happy hjdkjkdsjg

OMG ANON…you get me. Daisuke has me in a CHOKEHOLD. Ok so here are how the headcanons are gonna go. Pre dating/confession. Dating and NSFW. I had another anon ask me to do NSFW head canons with daisuke. So why not kill two birds with one stone. The regular head canon r gonna be Gn. But the NSFW are gonna have some AFAB stuff. Still can kinda be read as Gn.

Crushing - Confession

- I believe Daisuke crushing on you would be a very, you fell first, but he fell harder kinda thing.

- I think that because Daisuke can be well.. a bit dense (still love him though). That he’s not really gonna pick up on any hints or flirting. So you kinda of have to wait till he realizes he likes you.

- When he does realize he likes you is probably when you were sticking up for him against Swansea(I love you Swansea but you still were mean to Daisuke🙁).

- It’s gonna be easy to tell when he likes you. This man is gonna be so obvious😭🙏

- We all know he’s eager to please right? He’s doing this with you 2 times more. Always asking if you needed anything, he’d be right on it.

-Little things to. I’m talking some laying his shirt over a puddle for you to step on. I feel like he tries to woe you with these gestures.(and it works)

- Daisuke loves listening to your voice. No matter how your voice sounds. He’ll go out of his ways to find you to ramble on about something. He thinks you look and sound cute rambling. o(^w^)o

- Also I think he just likes looking at you. There have been MANY times where Swansea has smacked Daisuke in the back of the head, cause he got sidetrack staring at you with this very lovesick grin. Staring like you personally hung the stars for him.

- Daisuke would be a bit too nervous to think of confessing first. So Swansea would definitely be pushing him to confess. He’s tired of seeing you two ogling at each other and doing nothing about it😒.

- Our sly little man some how convinced Curly to make a cake for him to give you. (I swear on my life curly is a die hard romantic but I’m saving that for when I do headcanons on him later)

- I feel like Daisuke would sneak in your room. Waiting for you to enter. When you do he lifts up the cake in his hands, “ Imadeyouthiscakewillyoudateme” He rambled out. Being scared you would say no.

- But when you say yes. I’m not kidding he shouted “WHOO HOO!!!”. It was very funny. Daisuke would quickly put the cake down and rush to hug you,

Dating

- I feel like the affection he likes to receive is words of affection and physical contact. And for what he usually gives. Acts of service and physical affection. Let me explain

-(Daisuke receiving) It’s a bit obvious that Daisuke probably hasn’t gotten a lot of praise in his life. So I believe that he absolutely melts when you give him these encouraging words. It can range from a lot. From a small, “good job” to a “I love you so much, no matter what.”. It makes him so happy like you don’t even understand.

-(Daisuke receiving) Idk it’s just a an itch in my brain telling me. I think he likes all kinds of physical affection. From holding his pinky, to wrapping you arms and legs around him cuddling. If it insures some sort of touching he’s down. I also think he like resting his head on either your thighs, or chest. Resting his eyes. PLEASE scratch his head or tangle your fingers through his hair. He loves it so much. Like it calms him down so much.

-(Daisuke giving) You can’t tell me this man isn’t at least a bit clingy. Not in a “if you talk to someone else I’ll kill them” type of way but a “ you make me feel safe and secure” kind of way. Does that make sense? Anyways, he loves flopping onto you when he sees you laying down. Like I’m talking full rag doll flop. I fully believe he brought a stuff animal on the ship. So he fully treats you like a stuff animal. Quick random switch. I don’t think he likes being the small spoon. Only because I feel like he needs to sleep holding something. I don’t think he would mind being big spoon. But overall he prefers you two facing each other.

-(Daisuke giving) We all know he has a knack for trying to be as helpful as he can. We can see that when he tried to fix the vent! To trying to crawl up it to save Anya… guys I can’t do this anymore. ANYWAYS. This man does not want you to lift a FINGER. He is so head over heels inlove with you. He’ll do anything for you. He’ll ask him to bring you a star and he’d ask which one. LIKE HE LOVES YOU SM AND JUST WANTS TO SEE YOU HAPPY.

- He loves kissing. Receiving and giving. From a simple peck, to kissing your face all over. He just loves it so much. He finds it so romantic. Listen hear me out. Non sexual neck kissing. He could be waking up before you(highly unlikely). Softly kissing your neck to wake you up. Just soft and sweet.

- Late night talks are a must with him. It could be about anything really. From what plot twist you guys thought would happen on the shitty soap opera you guys were watching. What ifs, what your guys future would look like, what you guys would be if you were animals. The topics you guys talk about are far and wide. But he enjoys the comfort of being by you.

- You can’t tell me this man isn’t a big back. Daisuke definitely brought a bunch of snacks with him. So he will happily share with you. He is a very giving person. But also expect to get your food stolen sometimes.. make sure you get extra food in your plate to give him the rest. He would appreciate it a lot!!!!!:3

- He also really loves spending anytime he can with you. Especially if it involves games. Let me tell you. YOU DO NOT WANNA PLAY DRESS TO IMPRESS WITH THIS MAN. He would cook you so hard in the game it’s not even funny. He’s literally in the top 10 players in dress to impress.

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- Praise kink. YOU GUYS CANT TELL ME I’M WRONG. You guys could water board me. Scream at me that I’m wrong. Every time you praise him when y’all are getting freaky. Busting. Like it gets him going SO HARD (pun intended) Like omg… Especially if you praise his efforts/ how good he’s doing. Pray that you’ll be able to walk after.

- This man is LOUD…… grunting, whimpering, moaning, panting. Any noise you can think of hes made it. Like he doesn’t even think of suppressing his noises. He also doesn’t want you to either! He loves hearing you. He thinks the louder you are = the better he’s doing. So please don’t suppress your noises he’ll get so sad:(. But back to the topic. This man needs something to muffle him. Wether that be kissing you, or lightly nibbling your neck. When he starts to get to loud you need to find a way to shut him up.

-Speaking of loud Swansea has definitely caught you guys once’s. Y’all were a bit to loud and he was wonder what was going on and… Let’s just say he wasn’t able to look at you guys for a bit. But after he gave Daisuke a fist bump. Man to man🗣️🗣️🗣️

- Daisuke is willing to try almost everything. I full heartedly believe this man is a virgin. The furthest he’s ever gone is making out. So he’s eager to learn! He was a bit nervous your guys first time. But after a bit that nervousness dissolved into eagerness! I don’t think he’d be into hurting you badly. And I don’t think he likes pain that much either. But I think he would like his hair being pulled. Or maybe you lightly scratching his back.

- I think he would be open to having sex not just in your rooms. Either in random room barely used. Or a couple of times on the couch when everyone was in their sleeping quarters. Thankfully you guys weren’t caught!!! But Curly was wondering what that clear sticky substances was on the couch…

-(AFAB) Munch no question asked. LISTEN WHEN I SAW HE WANTED AN EXTRA PACK OF SWEETENER I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT BIG BACK MUNCH BEHAVIOR. Also because this man loves to please. DO YALL SEE ME VISION. This man who’ll slurp it up like no tomorrow. His favorite made is your pleasure is his pleasure. But omg like he gets so into eating you out it’s not even funny… You have to pry his face away from your core. And he looks so hot. His hair a mess. His eyes dazed but still has that love in them. And your juice all over his face like…

- He doesn’t have a favorite position. He likes way too many. And when you asked him what position he liked the most, he only responded with, “how can I pick a favorite when there all so good, and what about the ones we haven’t tried yet!” Safe to say you guys went to go try some more positions 😜

- I know I’ve been doing really freaky headcanons but I think Daisuke loves soft sex and morning sexy to. Maybe the morning after a bad day HES still feeling bad. You both are still groggy but you have time before you have to get up. Hell sink himself into. Before thrusting as his arms are wrapped around your waist. His hot breath on your neck, as he trailed kisses all along it. Just because he can be a freak doesn’t mean he can’t be really soft either.

- Daisuke loves cock warming. Try. Try to prove me wrong. He loves cuddling. He loves being as close to you as possible. What’s better than combining the two! But after a bit he does get a bit impatient and starts to subtly thrust. He really is trying to not to be you feel to good!

Authors note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I STARTED THIS WHEN I GOT HOME AND FELL ASLEEP MID WAY THROUGH WRITING THIS. Again sorry for request being slow I’m trying my best😭🙏

[always-just-red]

I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you’ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.  

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[monicahar]

“my wife.”

how they address you. why does it make your heart skip a beat each time?

characters; neuvillette, wriothesley

—female pronouns obvi, aaaa this is so random😭 fluff, tad bit of crack, has suggestive themes/dirty jokes cause that's my humor in general, just tryna get into writing again heehaa don't mind me ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

NEUVILETTE always accompanies the term with unmatched affection. it rolls off his tongue perfectly like a match made in heaven, coupled with the serene image of you instantaneously appearing in his mind before he even thinks of the uttering the endearing term. he still finds it surreal that you are both even lawfully married, yet the way he calls you his wife is already on instinct. is it too presumptuous of him?

well, in the end, he can't find any means to worry about it when you seem to equally adore the nickname.

“ooohh, say it again, say it again!”

he can't tell whether he married a child or not, but he still obliges your request and calls you his wife affectionately once more.

meanwhile, furina nearly gags everytime she hears him say it so softly—like using any other tone when referring to you would land him in the hands of the fortress of meropide. sure—she might've been the one who set up both of you—but the drama and thrill akin to watching a romance film has delightfully ended, and she can only meddle so much in marital matters. the iudex just might actually have her head in a platter if she were to do anything mischievous at that point.

but while a happy neuvillette is running around announcing 'my wife' this and 'my wife' that, you are currently stuck on what to call him in return, sadly enough.

“at this point, i think i'm just going to call you daddy.”

it was unfortunate with the way he choked on some of the water he was drinking—well, thank goodness he didn't spill much as before. for this wasn't the first time you said something unprompted while he was in peace with his water—he can only internally sigh.

“and what exactly has influenced you to arrive at such a conclusion, my wife?” he does not miss the tiny shudder of your body that followed the endearment. your face burns a tad bit at that, and he softly chuckles.

“your effect on me is no joke, you know?” you pout at his amused smile, “the way you refer to me so sweetly makes me want to call you my dearest husband everytime.”

“i don't recall voicing any complaints. is something else holding you back from doing so?”

you nod solemnly in agreement at that, which prompts him to raise a brow in mild curiousity.

“thing is, i really like calling you by your first name. same with monsieur neuvilette. there's something mildly erotic within it—you get what i mean, hehehe...” he only stares at you, clearly unimpressed, and a bit concerned at the implication. you clear your throat, apologizing under your breath.

“still—it's such a devastating predicament to be unable to choose between the three.” you sigh defeatedly, moving to slump your entire weight on his lap. you mutter, “my dearest husband monsieur neuvillette...mmm, no, that's too long.”

chuckling at your dramatic antics, he plants a soothing hand on your waist, the other fixing your wrinkled clothing as you practically melt against his hold. “and you thought settling on daddy was the appropriate option?”

“i'm not hearing any objections.” you jest, feeling cheeky.

“please refrain from calling me such a thing in the eyes of the public atleast.”

“...huh? you're actually allowing it??”

WRIOTHESLEY on the other hand, says it as if he's flaunting. it leaves his lips like a taunt each time, indirectly telling the other party 'i have a hot wife and you dont' even though most of the time the people he mentions you to don't even know what you actually look like. it's silly, childish even, but you still love it nonetheless.

sigewinne and the other inmates have collectively told you that ever since you got married, he has never uttered your actual name to anyone else. some find it weird, some find it somehow disrespectful, and some are now convinced he's crazily obsessed with you, and now he's showing it off every chance he gets, much to everyone's dismay.

it's arrived to the point where a small percentage of people have actually forgotten about your name, and now refer to you as the duke's wife, or even duchess, to which you made a face at. that's kind of pushing it by then.

anywho, in the end, it's funny and endearing, maybe even makes you a bit giddy, but there is no way you're telling him that. the situation might escalate even more if possible.

“you know, my wife is very mean to me today.”

as a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrap around your waist, you resist the growing smile on your face, deciding to mess with your husband for a bit.

“is that so?” you continue your chores without a care in the world. he huffs.

“mhm. she won't look me in the eye the whole day, even though she seemed sooo happy last night.” face instantly burning, you hiss as you slap his arm in a fit of embarrassment, pulling a hearty chuckle from the man behind you.

“—and now she's hitting me as well. i can't believe this.” you both know very well he was not fazed in the slightest bit.

“if her husband wasn't such a pervert then maybe—”

his facade cracks as he forces out an awkward laugh, “hey now, baby, you know i'm nothing like that.”

“wriothesley.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “okay, maybe a little. it's exclusive for you though! my wife doesn't have to be so mean about it, you're making me reallyyy sad here, y'know?”

there it is again, you think. that nickname. that damned word that makes you want to turn around and smash your lips against his and—wait, hold yourself together! don't forget the reason you're being cold to him!

“you deserve to feel remorse. i've been struggling to even move the whole day because of you.”

you go rigid.

you didn't mean for that to come out so bitter...oh no.

“oh. so that's what this is about.” you don't even have to turn around to know that there's a smug look on his stupidly handsome face, his grip on your waist turning into soothing circles as he presses a kiss to your neck.

“if my wife wanted a massage, she could've just said so.” it's husky when it leaves his mouth, leaving you to shiver with the chills he enunciates.

flustered, you completely disregard the way your knees buckle at the endearment laced with that low voice of his, hitting his arm once more, earning a tiny 'ouch' from him.

“pervert. i want rest, not another round!”

“heh, i didn't say anything about another round, my perverted wife.”

“you—” you are abrupt cut off as you yelp in surprise when your feet are raised off the ground, your face now much closer to your husband's as he carries you gently in his arms.

“shhh, just let me take you to bed. if my wife was feeling terrible the whole day, she should've just told me in the first place so she could stay in, don't you think?”

he's right, but you're still angry. “shut up.”

“just letting you know i'm not completely at fault, wife.” you attempt to ignore the furious beating of your heart, face burning at his smug expression. “i'm not the only one who wanted it.”

hsr version...? if i feel like it...🤔🤔

[divinesolas]

Fighting words

summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.

Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds

c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread

he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁

masterlist - requests are open!!

tags: @hxtd

“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.

“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”

You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.

“theyre arrows bracken.”

“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”

He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,

“she said no.”

The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”

“she said no. Back off.”

youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.

You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.

You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.

The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”

Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.

And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.

you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.

“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.

Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.

He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.

The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.

Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.

One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.

Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.

Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.

“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.

“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”

You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.

His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.

One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.

“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.

“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.

[softspiderling]

and there you are on your knees | j.v

summary:

For a split second, your eyes met and it felt like he could see right through you. You tried not to flinch, keeping your head straight on and your gaze locked on him, hoping he would would avert his gaze. But he didn’t.

“Bent. Knees.”

Oh.

OR; Prince Jacaerys Velaryon arrives at the Twins to secure passing for the troops marching for his cause. He is successful in more ways than one.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, oral sex (male receiving), p in v, as usual, Jace has been aged up to 20!

word count: 1,8k

author’s note: remember when i posted that pic of jace like three weeks ago? i looked at it last week and went "what if...?👀" and this was born. idk😭😭 also am i crazy or hasnt anyone written anything about this scene before?? that’s illegal🙅🏻‍♀️ anyways tagging my hotd bestie @eldrith ily thanks for letting me yap your ear off, happy reading y’all🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had heard rumours about the first son of Queen Rhaenyra; every lady that had met him sighed over his luscious dark brown locks or the handsomeness of his face that seemed to be carved out of the most expensive stone in the whole realm. Still, you were quite taken aback by how beautiful he really was when he crossed the bridge of the Twins, his dragon waiting for him in the greens just by the tower.

He truly knew how to make a first impression last.

“Lady Frey, Lord Frey,” Prince Jacaerys said, nodding to the sitting pair, hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes flickered to you for a second.

“Lady…?”

“Frey, my Prince.”

Prince Jacaerys raised a surprise eyebrow but let it go uncommented, only eyeing you up and down very briefly before taking his sword off as he sat down.

Lady Frey poured him wine and without much preamble, they begun their talks of trades. You kept yourself mostly to the back, fulfilling your role as a ward, ever present but never putting your nose in affairs you had no business in. You tried to listen, the Prince seemingly asking for passing for troops coming in from the North, which Lady and Lord Frey agreed to after some negotiations; but you tried to use the advantage of being ignored to take in the Prince. He was young still, but he carried himself with a certain aura of power and confidence, which was a given; he was the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms after all.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted and you quickly put your very inappropriate thoughts about the Crown Prince away, trying to pay atention once more.

“You want Harrenhal.”

Lord and Lady Frey glanced at each other in silent conversation, while the Prince finished his drink, standing to hold his cup out for Lady Frey to refill.

“For that, my mother will want more than your crossing,” Prince Jacaerys said easily, his chin held high.

“What does her Grace desire?”

Prince Jacaerys discarded his cup on the table, leaning both his hands on it, towering over Lord and Lady Frey. For a split second, your eyes met and it felt like he could see right through you. You tried not to flinch, keeping your head straight on and your gaze locked on him, hoping he would avert his gaze. But he didn’t.

“Bent. Knees.”

Oh.

The sounds coming out of your mouth were scandalous and really downright filthy as the prince kept thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth, one hand fisted around your hair, the other holding onto his tunic, so he had an unobstructed view of you.

When Prince Jacaerys had asked you to show him the privy before he left, you had not expected him to back you into a secluded corner of the hallway, his lips upon yours and you felt like you were in a dream.

You were on your knees, your pretty dress flared out on the dirty floor, the hard stones digging into your shins, likely leaving bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“If I had known the Freys had such a pretty little thing for a ward, I would have come sooner,” Prince Jacaerys grunted, making you whine softly. He tightened his hold on your hair a little, snapping his hips up and tears sprang into your eyes as you nearly choked at the sheer size of him. Your hands grabbed at his waist to steady yourself, as he fucked his cock into your mouth, before he pulled out with a groan.

“Fuck, you nearly made me release,” Prince Jacaerys muttered, swiping his thumb over your lower lip. “But I am not quite done with you yet.”

He grabbed you by the arm, helping you stand, pressing his lips against yours, inarguably tasting himself on you, but Prince Jacaerys didn’t seem to mind. You pulled away from the kiss, your chest still heaving and your cheeks red. All of this was new to you, and you were embarrassed that you had to catch your breath.

Prince Jacaerys looked down on you with a smirk, brushing the sweaty hair off of your forehead.

“Turn around,” he said, turning you by the shoulder to press you up against the cold stone of the wall. “Have you ever laid with another man?”

“No,” you answered with a shake of your head, your cheeks turning a deeper red, nervous and excited at the same time, at the prospect of a man taking your maidenhood, the crown prince of the Iron Throne nonetheless.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you repeated, voice breathless. "Please, I want this."

“I’ll try to be gentle,” he whispered into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, making you shiver.

Slotting himself against your back, Prince Jacaerys lifted the skirt of your dress to reach between your legs, his fingers rubbing over your pearl, your hips bucking in surprise as you moaned out.

“Patience, my sweets,” Prince Jacaerys rumbled, trapping your skirt under his arm, which he snuck around your waist. His fingers circled into your folds, gathering your wetness before he dipped one finger into your cunt.

“Oh Gods help me,” you moaned, writhing in his arm and Prince Jacaerys only chuckled.

“No Gods here, only me.”

He pumped his finger in and out of your cunt, until your walls acclimated to the intrusion and he added another finger, making you roll your eyes to the back. Never before have you felt such pleasure down there, you weren’t sure if you could go back to not knowing how it felt.

“Just… One more,” Prince Jacaerys mumbled, adding a third finger and you felt incredibly full, like you were split open, but in a good way? The pads of his fingers kept brushing against the spongy part inside of you, which made you curl your toes in your shoes. You leaned your forehead against the cold stone, feeling a growing sensation in your lower stomach.

“I think… I think I might..” you groaned, your lips parted.

“What?” Prince Jacaerys said, his breath hot on your ear as he kept fucking you with his fingers. “Are you going to come, Lady Frey?”

“Y-yes, my Prince.”

“Call me by my given name and I’ll let you.”

He pressed onto your pearl with his thumb and you swore you saw black for second before you came, a moan of his name on your tongue.

“Incredible,” he whispered, pulling his hand away to tug on his cock that had been rutting against your backside, leaving a smear of his precum on your skin.

“This might be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

You weren’t quite sure what Prince Jacaerys was talking about when you felt the head of his cock breaching your cunt and you let out a small gasp.

It hurt at first, and you let out a small breath as he kept pushing his cock in - Gods, did it ever end?

“Gods you’re tight,” Prince Jacaerys groaned, his hands gripping your waist when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You only whimpered in reply - how would you previously think you were full when he had three fingers inside of you? This was no comparison.

You let out a laboured breath, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down your temple and you shifted on your feet, letting out a surprised moan when it caused delicious friction of the Prince’s cock inside your cunt.

“Ah, you’re feeling it, don’t you,” Prince Jacaerys whispered lowly in your ear, bringing your hair to the side, so he could place wet kisses upon your back. “The pleasure coursing through you, like you have never felt before?”

Just as the words left his mouth, he started to thrust his cock into you with no abandon. The sounds of skin slapping skin filled the hallway, coupled with his grunts and your moans, it was a miracle no one stumbled upon you, but even if they did, you didn’t know if you’d care enough to stop.

Your blunt nails scraped against the walls, as the Prince’s cock kept going in and out, you were starting to see walls. It wasn’t long before you could feel the warm sensation in your lower stomach forming again, this time so much more intense.

“P-please,” you whimpered, your whole body feeling like it was burning.

“Lo ao’re beri nyke jāhor mazverdagon ao ñuhon,” Prince Jacaerys whispered into your hair as his cock drove into you.

You were too fucked out to realize you didn’t understand him, and definitely too fucked out to ask what he had just said to you, clinging to the wall for any semblance of support as your body shook with every thrust.

“I’m almost there,” Prince Jacaerys grunted, his hand finding your pearl again as he slowed his thrusts, instead thrusting harder, finger pressing down on your pearl. “Will you finish for me, my sweets?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

The Prince only chuckled, not once pausing his movement but accelerating the circles he was drawing on your pearl, until you finally broke, a wave of pleasure washing over you so powerful it knocked you over.

“Gods, Jacaerys!” you moaned, your cunt pulsating in its wake, your eyes fluttering shut, leaning against the wall.

You were only standing because the Prince kept a steady grip on you, his cock still fucking into your wet, soppy cunt. His thrust stuttered before he gave one last, thrust, shooting his warm seed right into your hole, your cunt milking him for everything he was worth, the seed escaping from the sides, dripping down your legs as he pulled out.

With one hand, Prince Jacaerys tucked his cock back into his pants and letting your dress fall back down, his other hand holding you upright, your knees still weak.

“Can you stand?”

“I think?”

His hand was firm but gentle as he turned you around, a smirk on his lips as you looked up at him through your lashes, completely ruined. Again, he pushed the hair out of your face, almost lovingly, as if he didn’t just shoot his seed into your cunt, his seed that you could still feel trickling down your leg, beneath your dress.

“Maybe I will be back,” Prince Jacaerys said, wiping his thumb over you mouth. “Make sure you really are staying loyal to the rightful heir of the Iron Throne.”

You chuckled breathlessly, looking up at him. “House Frey would welcome you with open arms.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up, slowly released your waist, before he leaned down to kiss you deeply. You sighed softly against his lips, but the kiss was over sooner than you had wished, your mouth chasing his.

“Be good, make sure your guardians keep their words or I will come for their heads.”

With those words, Prince Jacaerys left you in the dark hallway, still catching your breath. This was not how you had envisioned the Crown Prince’s visit to go.

But who were you to complain if he was so generous?

────────────

Lo ao’re beri nyke jāhor mazverdagon ao ñuhon = if you’re lucky i might make you mine

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: thoughts?👀

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

If you are up for it could write more Justice League x Assistant reader?

That scenario did things to me honestly, and I can't find anything similar 😭

Maybe reader calls in sick and the each JL member goes to check on them unanounced (reader never told them were they lived but of course they'd know *sideeyes batman*) which end up on all the members questioning and pointing at each other *cue spider man meme*, because why are you at my darling's- I mean our Assistant's house!

Reader kicks everyone out except the gourmet chef batman brought to cook reader some chicken soup.

A Day in Life: In Health and Sickness

Synopsis: A day in life were you, the Justice League's assistant, find out that sickness and a bunch of obsessed superheroes are just too much to bear all at once.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Alfred Pennyworth

Tw: Nonconsensual (not sexual) touching; A single mention of obscene acts; Kinda breaking and entering; Reader gets physically restrained; Kinda forced infantilization? But not really, just humiliation; Some members of the League might be out of character bc I don't know them well enough; I was sleepy while revising and editing this so I might fix any mistakes I didn’t see later; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,6k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Thank you so much for your compliments and the request!! Your suggestion really gave me inspiration to write as soon as I saw it. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope it's the same vibe and you like it!! Also I’ve seen all the requests for a part 2 of “He's My Collar”, but as stated here, I didn't answer bc I’m working on it! I just didn't have any ideas yet!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Whatever hit you today, it sucks. Yesterday, in the afternoon, you had a mild throbbing in your head, but not exactly a headache, at night, fever hit you, alongside a cough. Medicine helped enough but today you still felt a little warm, your head hurt, your nose was somehow stuffed and leaking at the same time. You've been awake for an hour and still just couldn't get yourself to care for your basic needs like showering and eating, let alone go to work, so you called in sick. At least you would have some piece for a day.

Or that's what you thought, until you heard some tapping on your window, scaring the shit out of you, and saw Superman outside with a sympathetic smile and holding a pharmacy bag, a crate of water bottles and food.

Ugh, of course you couldn't actually have some peace.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself and got up, walking towards you bedroom window, and tried sticking your head outside, hoping he wouldn't enter your home if you kicked him out before, but before you could do anything else, he supersped inside and suddenly was at your side, making you dizzier.

— Hey! I heard what happened. How’re you feeling? — The alien’s face showcased his concern on his furrowed brows and he took a step too close (any step in your direction taken by one of the heroes was already too close for you), extending his arm forward to place the back of his hand in your forehead. You took a step back but he didn't seem to mind.

— Uh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. — Superman shook his head.

— I wanted to help. Here, I brought som- — Doorbell. The hero looked in the direction the sound came from, most likely using his X-Ray vision to look through the walls and doors, and squinted his eyes. Oh boy. — You called someone? — His voice is weirdly calm, contrasting with the way he abruptly starts marching out of your room and to the door.

Earlier you thought the fast exertion of movements would be too great for you, but apparently adrenaline was on your side, enough to follow him around as if you were the visitor inside your own place.

— I didn't. — You respond flatly and holding back a groan from annoyance, since you also didn't invite him.

Superman immediately opens the door as soon as it's within his reach and what's on the other side surprises you more than when you got the job at the watchtower.

— Superman. — Batman didn't seem surprised, but he also never showed emotions other than anger. — (Y/N). This is Penny-One. — He is surely referencing the old man well dressed on his side. — He is here to take care of you. — You raise an eyebrow, almost speechless.

— T-Take care of me? — You helplessly watch them invading your residency, painfully aware there's nothing you can do. Superman crossed his arms.

— This is not necessary, I came here to do just that. — Superman’s protest unfortunately doesn't give you any hint of how this will all turn out, nor does it scare Batman and his friend away..

— You have your own responsibilities. — Batman simply states. — You should go.

Penny-One simply turns to you.

— It's a pleasure, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N), even in your condition. Master Batman talks a lot about you. — You don't know what to stay and it probably shows, since no one waits much for your reaction before Penny-One is moving towards your kitchen and Batman and Superman continue with their argument.

You just go and sit down on your couch, questioning your life decisions and escape plans, which will have to wait until this damned curse leaves your body (and your home).

Your hands raise to rub your face and maybe give you some clearance, maybe wake you up from this nightmare, but keeping your eyes closed and sitting down only remind you of your condition. You feel worse or is it just your spirits? Either way, you let your body slide down until your side rests on the couch cushions, arms hugging your own body to try to have some warmth back. When did it become so cold?

At least their voices were low, as if trying not to bother you, it's a little soothing, especially with the promise of having food. Your eyes hurt just from staying open so you don't. At some point, some type of fabric is thrown over your body and a hand combs through your hair. You are too weak to do anything.

Next time you open your eyes, it's due to disturbing noises, your head is no longer on the arm of the couch and instead is laying on someone’s bare thighs. A pair of hands is running through your locks, and a really nice smell is in the air.

Did you fall asleep?

That would explain why your head is on fucking Wonder Woman's lap and she is looking at you lovingly. Also the fabric from before is Superman's cape.

You quickly shoot up, although just as fast, four or five pairs of hands, coming from seemingly out of nowhere — startling you even more — push you back down, you don't go without struggle, and soon, all hands disappear, green lights catch your attention and you can't move your body a single inch anymore. Somehow, you ended up restrained by a green and bright cocoon, as if you were soon to be a butterfly, only your face is free. Green Lantern’s construct.

— Hey, hey, calm down, hot stuff. I know she’s scary and you would never want to be close to anyone else but me, but you still need rest. — You're turned to the ceiling against your wishes. For some reason the fact that your whole body is covered doesn't give you the comfort nor the protection it should give you, instead, it reminds you of how vulnerable you are.

Your wide and paranoid eyes try to search for anything, since your head is being held in place. You can see Wonder Woman above you, glaring at something outside your line of vision, you are still in her lap. A bit of Aquaman’s blond hair on the bottom of your vision. And Batman, towering over you and the amazon, just observing as always.

— You can release them now, Green Lantern. — It's Superman's voice.

— He is not going to. — You see Batman saying at the same time another voice speaks the same sentence, making all of them turn in the direction of the sound, somewhere you can't see, but you recognize the voice. — He thinks they're weak and incapable of making decisions. — I'm sorry, who is weak and incapable of making decisions here? — He also wants to prove he is the only one capable of protecting and taking care of (Y/N), and impress them so they will fall right into his arms, call him a hero and give him a kiss… And other obscene things. — Batman smirks. Wonder Woman and another new and deep voice loudly laugh, the masculine voice being more obnoxious. Someone scoffs indignantly.

— Okay. Get out of my fucking head or I will make you. — The Lantern's voice sounds angry and you hear hurried footsteps. They wouldn't fight right here, right?! Right beside your sick body and in the middle of your crumpled apartament… It would make such a mess…

— I wasn't inside your head. Your thoughts were too loud, it's like you are screaming in my ear.

— I will make you scream! — You hear Superman superspeeding, probably getting in between the fighting duo.

— Ha- Green Lantern, calm down. No one will make anyone do anything here.

The agonizing feeling of restriction grows.

— WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? — You scream in a husky voice, panting right after. Everyone is silent and the next second, the construct moves you around until you're sitting up, back to the back of the couch. You are still being held and manhandled, but at least you're not in someone's lap and you can see something other than your ceiling.

Martian Manhunter is standing a few meters away from you, Superman by his side. Wonder Woman was still sitting beside you and doesn't look like getting up any time soon, Green Lantern makes his way to sit down on your other side, placing his arm around you, gladly you can't even feel it. Batman is still standing on the side of the couch, his cape covering his body. Aquaman is sitting in your armchair, his face laid on his hand, watching amused, if not a bit annoyed.

It's so weird seeing all of them, suited up, in the middle of your living room, and in plain daylight.

— We came here to nurse you back to health. — Wonder Woman speaks.

— Uhh, don't you think this is a little too much? — The heroes look at each other as if looking for the issue.

— I mean, yeah. I could do it alone, but for some reason when I got here, these freaks had already broken into your house. — Freak Lantern says, pointing an accusing finger at the other freaks in question, the trinity, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. — Those two came in later. — He nodded at Martian Manhunter and Aquaman, not giving them a single look, his eyes solely on you. Like everytime he insists on overly making eye contact with you, it's a bit uncanny. — Worry not, beautiful. I will kick them out for you. — Superman and Wonder Woman snort at his arrogance.

— You could go with them. I'm fine, I don't need help. I’ve been taking care of myself for years and can still do it. — You've been nice long enough, they crossed the line, they invaded your apartment, which is so unprofessional, and you need to set limits. They just look at you with pity.

— I am are aware of my neglect. — Neglect? — But it's going to be different now that we are reunited… — Uh? What is Manhunter talking about?

— Exactly. History has proven how men are unreliable and indifferent to others. I'm the only one you need, darling. — Wonder Woman caresses your face. — I don't even know what they think they are doing here…

— What are you doing here, princess? Don't you have mommy issues to fix or a guy named Steve Trevor to talk to? — The amazon furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the one sitting on your other side.

— Don't listen to him, (Y/N). I left Steve a long time ago, when I met you. — Girl, why? Go back to your man! Leave me alone! — What about Aquaman? Doesn't he have a kingdom to rule? — The man in question dismissed her answer with a hand movement.

— I’m protecting Atlantis’s future by making sure none of you get any ideas and (Y/N) survives their illness. — Batman shook his head.

— I’ve already made sure they're taken care of. You shouldn't be here. There's more important matters for us out there.

— Then why aren't you there?

Their battle of egos is just too fast for your slowed down brain to process and try to formulate any form of strategy. Before their banter gets worse, the older man from before reappears.

— Your soup is ready, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N). — Penny-One seems unbothered by the commotion around you, walking in with the source of the heavenly smell. Your mouth waters.

— Let me do it, Penny-One. — Wonder Woman gently offers and takes the bowl from him, along with the spoon. The Justice League makes sounds of disgust when they start watching her spoon feeding you (they wanted to be in her place).

You groan, complain, try to wiggle out of the construct but nothing works, especially with your fatigued and sick state. If you weren't claustrophobic before you might be from now on. You are clearly uncomfortable and practically begging to get out but for some reason they just won't listen. It gets to the point where as soon as you finish your soup — after realizing, again, that with those people it's just easier to surrender —, and take your medicine, Green Lantern’s temper apparently gets done with your whining and resistance, and he simply makes another construct. Now you have a pacifier in your mouth. It's your limit.

They start fighting again because some of them find it degrading, some like to hear your voice even if they know how close to cussing them out you are, and some think it's cute and prefer your quietness over your cries.

You can't move. You can't spit it out. You can't bite it off. You can't ask for help.

Green Lantern is rubbing your cheek while — slightly — mocking you. Wonder Woman is cooing at you, while trying to convince the Lantern to stop with his antics. Aquaman is clearly expressing he is on the Lantern’s side. Batman, Superman and Martian Manhunter are threatening him.

Frustration gets the better of you and the dam breaks loose. Now you are wrapped, with a pacifier and crying. Like a baby. In front of your bosses. In front of people who think you are vulnerable and need them. They're practically keeping you hostage. You didn't want them here. You told them no, countless times, and they just blatantly ignored your boundaries.

You have a pa-ci-fi-er. In. Your. Mouth.

And they are talking. They are ignoring you. They're been doing it for hours. No. Months. That's abuse.

This is the most emotion they ever got out of you and it immediately quiets everyone down. They're just staring at you, shocked. This whole thing is just a shitshow. A disaster. They're a curse. You are cursed.

It's so distracting that it makes Green Lantern lose his concentration, which is what fuels his ring’s power, and the constructs start dissipating.

You immediately get up and put as much distance between you and the team, who all have wide eyes and maybe had just now realized the gravity of the situation, while thinking about control damage.

You are searching desperately for how you could effectively kick them out, while also experiencing just the aftereffects of a new trauma, when it looks like it will get even worse. Flash zooms into the apartment.

— Hey, (Y/N)! Sorry I took so long! Busy Day. N-Not that I wouldn't quit anything and everything just to help you. I just now saw the notification that you took a day off today! W-What… W-What are you guys doing here…? — The speedster noticed after his rambles the he is not the only one in the middle of your living room, and points at the whole team, who is on the complete opposite side of you. They also point at him.

— You’re late. — Batman states.

— Slowest man alive. — Green Lantern calls out his friend.

Flash looks around as if gathering his thoughts and notices your distressed state. He turns completely to them, his back to you and him being between you and his team.

— What did you do to them? — At his demand, all of them start pointing at each other and giving some sort of explanation or their side of the story at the same time, turning it into unintelligible sounds, until your yell interrupts them.

— GET. OUT!

— But-

— OUT!

— But, (Y/N)-

— NOW! GET OUT NOW!

They grumble but comply. Penny-One, who was totally unfazed during the while ordeal, just sighs, and starts making his way with them. Until you take a timid step toward him and stop him.

— N-Not you… I-I mean the soup was really good and I don't think I will have the energy to cook later… I-If it's n-not bothering you… — The older man smiles placantinly at you.

— Of course, dear. I'm getting paid either way, might as well just finish my job here.

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