#there and HE IS SO SMALL ! AND I AM SO SMALL !!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

killerplink · 2 days ago

Text

Shameless

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Words: 10k

Plot: You're supposed to head straight home after the bar. You really are. But you're drunk, and needy, and desperate for his dick, so now you're in some alley getting fucked stupid against a wall.

CW: established relationship, 18+, smut, drunk sex, praise kink, size kink, public sex, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare

The bar is dim and comfortably loud, some old rock song spilling from the jukebox while Jason leans back against the booth, arm draped along the backrest, watching you with a lazy smile. You're already two drinks and some shots deep—which, for you, is a lot—and it shows in the way you're slumped just slightly against his side, giggly and loose, eyes a little glassy under the neon glow.

He knew you needed this. Knew this week had been a fucking nightmare for you. And yeah, maybe getting you tipsy wasn't the most responsible move, but God, you're cute like this, all soft and clingy and running your mouth without a filter.

"Y'know," you slur a little, gesturing wildly with your glass, "that bitch from the subway? The one who kept pushing into me?" Your brows knit together in offended disbelief, like you're personally wounded all over again just thinking about her. "I shoulda knocked her fucking teeth out."

Jason has to bite the inside of his cheek, his grip tightening on his beer bottle as he lifts it to his lips. You're so damn small, and the way you say it, all dramatic and dead serious, makes it even funnier. But you're not joking. You slam your palm against his chest to drive the point home, which, to you, probably feels like a decent smack, but to him, it's barely a tap.

"Right?" you demand, eyes wide and expectant, waiting for him to back you up.

Jason clears his throat, desperately swallowing the grin threatening to break free. "Yeah, baby. Totally. Shoulda knocked her the fuck out."

"Exactly!" you nod so hard your whole body sways, and Jason has to steady you with his free hand to keep you from sliding right off the seat. "No respect. None! Who does that?"

You keep ranting, every slurred complaint punctuated with another dramatic gesture or a wild wave of your drink. Jason just sits there, half-listening, half-savoring how fucking adorable you are like this, all small and feisty, tipsy and dramatic, tucked into his side like you belong there.

He loves you so much it's fucking stupid. And it's only a matter of time before that sweet mouth of yours gets him into trouble tonight—one way or another.

By the time your third drink arrives, your body feels warm and heavy, head swimming in that sweet, fuzzy way that makes everything feel a little softer, a little funnier, and way hornier than it should.

Jason's sitting there next to you, all broad and solid, wearing that black t-shirt that stretches just right over his chest and arms, showing off all that ink. His thighs, thick and spread wide, are right there next to yours, and you can't help yourself—your free hand starts to wander.

You trace slow circles along the inside of his thigh, your fingers sneaking higher each time until your knuckles almost brush the bulge straining against his jeans. Jason tenses just slightly, the muscle under your palm jumping at the touch, but he doesn't stop you right away.

He's used to your drunk grabby hands by now, and hell, it's flattering how fast you get worked up for him. But his dick? His dick's got no chill, thick and half-hard already, and your teasing fingers aren't helping.

"Baby," he murmurs, his free hand curling around your wrist, stopping you gently. "Behave."

You pout instantly, squirming closer until you're practically in his lap, your big, glossy eyes locked on his like you're about to cry over it.

"Jay," you mumble, voice all soft and slurred, "you're so fucking hot."

He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his beer. "Am I?"

You nod. Hard. Like you're trying to convince him of a life-or-death fact. "Hottest guy I ever been with," you say, and Jason's ears go pink at the blunt praise. "Can't believe you chose me."

Jason's brow arches, that soft smile curving his lips. "What do you mean, pretty girl?"

You just shrug, lifting your drink to your mouth again, and miss it entirely—half your sip spills down your chin, sticky and sweet. Jason sighs, amused, and reaches out with his thumb, gently swiping the alcohol off your skin.

That's when your grin turns wicked. Before he can pull his hand away, you catch his wrist, pulling his thumb between your lips. Your tongue flicks against the pad before you suck gently, cleaning off the spill like it's the most natural thing in the world. But your mind? Your drunk, horny mind immediately derails into filth.

You wish it was his cock instead—thick and hot, sliding across your tongue, stretching your lips wide, fucking your throat until you're gagging and drooling and swallowing down every messy drop of his cum.

Your thighs clench under the table, the sudden rush of slick making you squirm, a soft whimper slipping out before you can stop it. Jason's brow furrows, his beer halfway to his mouth.

"Baby," he asks, voice lower now, "you okay?"

You nod too hard again, the world tilting slightly around you as you lean in, your hand landing high on his thigh once more. "Wanna fuck," you whisper, way too loud for how crowded the bar is.

Jason barks out a surprised laugh, shaking his head like he can't believe you. But fuck if it isn't turning him on, how unfiltered and needy you get for him when you're drunk.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, tipping back the rest of his beer in one long swallow before setting the bottle down with a clink. "Okay, pretty girl. Let me pay the tab and we'll go home, yeah?"

You hum happily, already leaning into his side, and Jason's hand settles warm on your thigh, fingers tracing mindless shapes while his other hand fishes his wallet out. You're still thinking about his dick—hot and leaking, sliding into your mouth, fucking your throat open before he bends you over and makes a mess of your pussy. And you've got zero intention of waiting until you're home to get your hands on him.

Before you leave, you decide you need the bathroom, weaving your way through the crowded bar with Jason's hand at the small of your back, his touch warm and steady, guiding you even though you're not exactly steady yourself.

The bathroom is... well, a Gotham bar bathroom—dim, one flickering fluorescent light buzzing overhead, cracked mirror, graffiti covering the stall doors. It smells like vodka, faint piss, and one of those cheap lavender air fresheners, and honestly? You've pissed in worse. You handle your business, wash your hands, and catch your reflection in the smeared mirror.

You look... a little wrecked already. Cheeks flushed, lips glossy and a little swollen from how you've been biting at them all night. Your eyeliner's still holding on, but your hair's a mess from leaning into Jason every time you got touchy—and you always get touchy when you drink. Still, even a little tipsy and sloppy, you grin at yourself, knowing damn well Jason still looks at you like you hung the fucking moon.

You smooth your hands down your skirt, adjust your top, and stumble your way back out, only to immediately see her.

Some too-pretty bitch draping herself all over your man like she doesn't know he's taken, her stupid pink acrylic nails tracing up his arm, leaning way too close into his space like she's got a shot in hell.

And Jason? He looks exactly like you expect—bored out of his fucking mind. He doesn't smile, doesn't lean back, doesn't flirt. His body stays turned toward you, eyes scanning for you even as she talks, and the second you step back into view, his shoulders relax like Thank fuck you're back.

But you? Oh, you're seeing red.

"Excuse me?" you shout, voice cutting through the music and bar chatter like a fucking gunshot. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Jason groans under his breath—"Oh, shit." —but it's too late. You're already stomping toward them, small but furious, your heels clacking hard against the floor like you're about to fight for your goddamn life.

The girl barely gets a chance to blink before you're in her face, finger jabbing at her chest, your other hand pointing wildly at Jason like a woman unhinged.

"That's my man, you thirsty fucking skank. Go throw yourself at someone who doesn't have a girlfriend."

Jason stands immediately, his big hand wrapping around your waist, physically lifting you off the floor because you're already reaching for her hair, fully prepared to drag her across the bar.

"Doll," he says, low and firm, voice edged with both amusement and actual concern. "C'mon, pretty girl, let's go."

"No!" you shout, flailing in his grip like a feral little cat. "She—she touched you! You're mine!"

"I know, baby," Jason says, voice softer now, soothing, his lips brushing your ear as he starts hauling you toward the door. "I'm all yours, always yours, pretty girl, you know that."

The girl stares in shock, but Jason doesn't even glance back at her. His only focus is you—his loud, drunk, ridiculously hot girlfriend who's out here ready to commit assault over him, and damn if that doesn't make him feel a little smug.

Outside, the cool night air hits you, and you're still huffy, arms crossed tight, refusing to look at him. Jason tugs you into the nearest alley, far enough from the entrance that you've got a little privacy, and then he tips your chin up gently, making you meet his eyes.

"Baby," he says, soft and serious, "you know I don't give a fuck about anyone else, right? You're it for me. My perfect girl. Nobody else even exists."

You bite your lip, still pouting, but your heart melts, all fuzzy and warm at the edges. "Promise?"

"Swear on my life," Jason says, hand over his heart, even though you both know his heart's been yours since the day you stumbled into his world.

You sigh dramatically, leaning into him, forehead to his chest. "Okay," you mumble. "But if she looks at you again, I'm breaking her nose."

Jason huffs a laugh, arms wrapping tight around you, hiding his smile in your hair. "I know you will, doll."

Then it hits him. Fuck. He walked you both here. No car, no bike. And now he's got to get your tipsy, horny, fight-happy ass home on foot.

"Oh, this is gonna be a long walk," Jason mutters, but even with the impending chaos, all he feels is love.

Wild, messy, absolutely fucking insane love for his feral little girlfriend who'd burn the world down for him if he asked. Jason's big hand reaches for yours, callused fingers curling gently around your smaller ones, and you let him intertwine them, your palm snug against his, so much bigger, so warm, so him.

You look up at him, eyes still wide and pouty, lip poked out just a little, and Jason can't help it. He leans down, catching your mouth with his in a kiss that's meant to be sweet, but fuck, you're drunk and needy and soft under him, and it goes from gentle to hot and sloppy real fast.

You moan against his mouth, pressing up on your toes to get closer, tongue sweeping into his mouth, tasting beer and Jason and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. Your free hand slides between you, fingers tracing down the front of his jeans until you find his dick, thick and warm, already stirring to life the second your palm cups him.

"Jesus Christ," Jason mutters against your lips, breaking the kiss with a panting breath. "Baby, you're insatiable."

"Yeah," you giggle, voice all breathy and fucked out already. "I want you so bad, Jay."

He takes a deep breath, trying to get his pulse under control, even though his cock is already hardening under your touch.

"C'mon, baby, let's get going. We'll be home in no time, yeah?"

You shake your head so violently you nearly knock yourself over, and Jason's quick, both hands grabbing your waist to steady you, brows raised in that exasperated, fond way that makes you feel like the most spoiled little brat in the world.

"No?" he asks, amusement curling in his voice. "What do you want, then?"

You pout, full-on drunk girl tantrum loading, tugging at his shirt like a needy little gremlin. "I want your dick, baby."

Jason laughs, head tipping back, the sound echoing off the brick alley walls. "I know, baby. And you'll get it." He cups your face, thumb dragging across your lower lip, eyes warm and full of affection. "Home. I'm not fuckin' you against a dumpster in Crime Alley."

You whine, actually whine, stomping your foot once for good measure. "But I'm so wet, Jay," you mumble, words all slurred and pouty. "My pussy hurts."

"Baby," Jason groans, running a hand down his face like he's in actual physical pain from trying to be a good man right now. "You are killin' me."

"So fuck me," you say, all wide-eyed, like you've cracked the fucking code.

Jason breathes deep through his nose, hands settling firm on your hips, holding you just far enough away from his dick so you can't start rubbing all over him again.

"Baby. Baby. Listen to me."

"No," you cut in, dramatically folding your arms under your tits, cleavage spilling in your too-tight top. "You listen to me. You always wanna fuck me. Why not now?"

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about needing fucking therapy, before he cups your cheeks again, squishing them until your lips pucker.

"Pretty girl, I do always wanna fuck you. But if I fuck you here, in this nasty-ass alley, I will never forgive myself. And you, my sweet, drunk little menace, will complain the whole way home about how your knees hurt or your back hurts or how you got gum in your hair from leanin' against this filthy fuckin' wall."

You blink at him, brain working overtime to process all that, and then you sniff. "Fine."

"Thank fuck," Jason sighs.

"But I'm walking all sexy so you stare at my ass the whole way."

"Baby," Jason groans, sliding a hand down to smack your ass once, hard enough to make you squeal and giggle. "You're a fuckin' nightmare."

"A sexy nightmare," you correct, wagging a finger in his face before you twirl dramatically toward the sidewalk, hips swinging like you're on a runway.

Jason follows, shaking his head, but fuck if he isn't staring at your ass just like you wanted. Even under the dim streetlights, the sway of your hips is hypnotic, that short skirt barely covering you, and all he can think about is getting you home, spreading you out, and ruining you properly.

But first? He's gotta get you both back alive.

His hand settles on the small of your back again, eyes scanning every shadow, every rooftop, every alley you pass, because it's Gotham. And drunk, horny, dramatic as you are, you're still his most precious thing—the only thing he'd throw himself in front of a bullet for without a second thought.

"Stay close, baby," he murmurs, fingers curling in your waistband, keeping you just a little closer as you both make your way down the sidewalk. "Don't need you wanderin' off."

You hum, leaning into him for a second before dancing away, spinning in a circle because you're drunk and happy and feeling yourself, and Jason knows—knows—that if you weren't so fucking adorable, he'd have lost his mind years ago.

His hand stays wrapped around yours, big and warm and strong, fingers interlocked so tight it feels like he's afraid you'll slip away if he lets go. You're not even thinking about the way his grip has a slight edge to it, the way his shoulders stay tense, scanning every shadow you pass, every figure leaning against a wall or sitting on a curb. To you, it's just Jason holding your hand like he always does, but to him, it's the only way to stop himself from grabbing the nearest asshole staring at your tits and slamming their face into a brick wall.

Because yeah, you're loud. Laughing too hard at your own jokes, voice bouncing off every building as you tell him how much you love his biceps, actually grabbing his arm with both hands and smooshing your cheek against it like it's the only pillow you ever want again.

"Baby, I swear to God, I think your arm is bigger than my whole head," you giggle, fingers barely stretching around the thickness of his bicep.

Your cheek stays pressed against him, your lips practically kissing the fabric of his jacket, and Jason just grunts, biting back a smile.

He's trying so fucking hard to stay focused. You're walking through downtown Gotham, and even though you're getting closer to Bristol, you're still technically in territory where he knows half the guys on the sidewalk have at least one weapon on them.

But you? You're bouncing beside him in your cute little skirt, tits pushed up perfectly, heels clicking on the pavement, and every time you laugh, your nipples press against the thin fabric like a filthy little tease.

Jason glances down just once, and fuck, you're not wearing a bra. His jaw clenches so tight his teeth might crack.

"Jay, Jay—hey," you tug at his arm, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. He catches you before you fall, one strong hand on your hip, the other still holding your hand tight. "I'm okay!" you announce, way too loud, grinning up at him.

"Yeah, I see that," he mutters, tugging you closer so you're practically walking under his arm now. "Maybe let me steer, baby, before you snap one of those pretty ankles."

You just hum, leaning into his side, your arm wrapping around his waist, your cheek back against his ribs this time, and you barely reach his shoulder like this, even with the height boost from your heels.

It's obscene, really, how small you are compared to him, and Jason feels it everywhere. In the way your soft hand barely wraps around his fingers, the way your arm can't even get all the way around his torso, the way your chin tilts up so far just to meet his eyes.

It's making his dick throb again, especially with the way you keep pressing against him like you can't get close enough, your tits practically plastered to his side. And when your hand slips lower, over his hip, fingers skimming his belt? Yeah, his dick definitely stirs again, already half-hard in his jeans.

But Jason grits his teeth, eyes flicking down a side street where a couple of guys lean against a car, watching you both pass with a little too much interest.

He could end them. Real easy. But that means letting go of you for even a second, and in a place like this, that's too much time.

So instead, he focuses on getting you both to Bristol. Once you're there, it's different. Still Gotham, sure, but way less grime, way fewer threats.

"Baby, your biceps," you murmur dreamily, still snuggled into his side. "I wanna live here. Make me a bicep hammock. I could just... take a nap right here."

"Jesus Christ," Jason huffs, half-laughing, half-suffering.

His hand squeezes your hip hard enough to make you gasp softly, and your thighs press together instinctively, slick panties clinging to your skin.

And you know it's bad—for him, for you—because you can already feel how wet you are, panties soaked just from the feel of his hand and the size of his arm and the fact that Jason fucking Todd is all yours.

Every broad inch of him belongs to you, and you want him so badly your nipples ache, hard and sensitive, the cool night air brushing them through your top with every step.

Jason feels it too, the way your body stays glued to his, warm and soft and sweet, all that restless, needy energy radiating off you like heat. And even though his jaw stays tight, his eyes sharp and scanning for trouble, his dick is already thinking about the safety of your shared apartment, where he can fuck you in peace.

But finally, you make it into Bristol, and Jason feels like he can breathe again. Shoulders easing just slightly, the tension that's been coiled in his spine since you left the bar loosens a fraction, though he's still hyper-aware of every footstep behind you, every flickering streetlight, every passing car.

Gotham's quieter here, but it's still Gotham. And no sane person drives a cab through this shithole, especially not after dark, which is exactly why you're stuck walking home. Buses aren't much better—either they're not running at all, or they're full of people Jason would rather not share air with, let alone a seat.

But you? You're not thinking about cabs or buses or safety at all. You're too busy scanning the sidewalks like you're searching for treasure, except the treasure you want is a dark, secluded little alley where your man can fuck you until you're crying.

And you find one.

You stop so suddenly Jason nearly stumbles into you, and you gasp like you just discovered the lost city of gold.

"What now, doll?" he sighs, already bracing for whatever chaos is about to spill from your pretty mouth.

Your grin is downright wicked, that playful, tipsy sparkle in your eyes as you grab his arm with both hands and start walking backwards toward the alley entrance. It's tucked behind some trendy little wine bar, barely lit, and Jason's already shaking his head, planting his feet like a stubborn brick wall.

"Baby," he warns, voice low, but you're having none of it.

"Jay," you pout, stepping back into the shadows, fingers curling around his belt to tug him with you. "Please. Pleasepleaseplease. I can't wait. I'm so fucking wet, I swear it's dripping down my thighs."

"Jesus," he mutters, but his resolve is crumbling fast, especially when you grab his wrist and guide his hand under your skirt, between your thighs, pressing his fingers against the damp lace of your panties.

Jason hisses between his teeth, jaw clenched tight as his fingertips press into the soaked fabric, feeling just how messy you already are. "Fuck, baby," he groans, fingers stroking you through the lace until you're trembling. "You really are dripping."

You nod so hard it's almost comical, hips rocking into his touch, and he curses again, pulling his hand back before he loses whatever sliver of restraint he has left.

"C'mon, Jay," you murmur, voice all sweet and syrupy as you press your body against him. "No one's here. I need you so bad."

He's so fucking weak for you. He always has been. With a low, rumbling sigh, he grabs your hips and lifts you slightly off the ground, keeping your heels from clicking against the damp pavement, his strength so effortless it makes you dizzy.

Your arms loop around his neck, lips grazing his jaw, and you whisper, "Knew you couldn't resist me."

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, but there's already a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he carries you further into the alley.

And to both your surprise, it's not that bad. No reeking garbage, no questionable puddles, just a slightly damp brick wall and enough privacy to make this work.

Jason pins you to the wall gently, broad hands spreading your thighs, fingers curling under the hem of your skirt to bunch it up around your hips, and the cool air against your soaked panties makes you shiver.

"We're doing this fast," he murmurs, voice dark and low as he towers over you, his body heat sinking into your skin. "Then I'm carrying your ass home and fucking you proper, got it?"

You just nod, biting your lip as your hips wiggle, trying to press against him. Before you can fully grind up against him, Jason pulls you off the wall like you weigh nothing, his big hand splayed across your back, holding you up effortlessly with just one arm.

"Hold still, baby," he murmurs, though there's a flicker of fond amusement in his voice.

You cling to him, hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, legs dangling slightly until he sets you down just long enough to shrug out of his leather jacket. Then he drapes it over your shoulders, the worn leather heavy and warm from his body heat, swallowing you whole.

"Don't want you all scratched up," he says, fingers brushing your cheek before he lifts you up and pins you back to the wall, his body following, pressing tight against yours.

The kiss that follows is messy, almost desperate, like neither of you has any patience left, his mouth slanting over yours, tongue licking deep between your parted lips. You taste like alcohol and sweetness, like the cocktails you couldn't stop sipping, and Jason tastes like beer and heat and him.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against your mouth, and he rolls his hips into you, grinding his thick cock against your sopping cunt through your panties, the rough denim dragging against the soaked lace until you whimper into his mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, forehead pressed to yours. "You're so fuckin' wet. I can feel it through my jeans."

"Then stop teasing," you pout, hips canting against him again, your thighs trembling from the sheer ache of needing him inside you.

"Oh, baby," Jason grins, all teeth, his hand sliding between you to push your panties aside, fingers dipping low to swipe through your slick folds, making you jerk. "Teasing's my favorite part."

"Jay," you whine, voice high and thin, your hips trying to chase his fingers as they stroke along your slit, purposefully avoiding your clit. "Please. Don't—don't tease, I'm so wet, I need you, please."

"Yeah?" He drags his fingers lower, tracing around your entrance, gathering up your slick, rubbing it slow over your throbbing clit until your whole body jerks again. "You need me that bad, baby?"

"Yes," you cry, voice pitchy and desperate, hands fisting in his shirt. "Need your dick, need you to fuck me, pleasepleaseplease—"

Jason hums low in his throat, eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he watches you come undone right in front of him. "Greedy little thing," he teases, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit until you're trembling against him. "So fuckin' needy."

"Because you made me like this," you snap, drunk enough that you barely have a filter, every single thought spilling from your lips. "You and your stupid big dick and your stupid perfect hands and your stupid hot face—"

Jason barks a laugh, cutting you off by sinking two fingers deep into your cunt with a filthy squelch that echoes through the alley, your protests melting into a soft, helpless moan.

"There we go," he murmurs, voice low and rough as his fingers pump in and out, stretching you open, slick dripping down to coat his knuckles. "Gotta open you up, baby. You know you can't take me if I don't stretch this sweet little pussy first."

You just whimper, hips rocking down onto his hand, your fingers scrabbling at his shoulders, your drunk little brain so overwhelmed by how good his fingers feel, how deep they reach, already curling to press against that soft, spongy spot inside you.

"Always so fuckin' tight," Jason mutters, thumb circling your clit as his fingers fuck into you, slow and deliberate.

You nod frantically, too far gone to do anything else, all your focus narrowed down to the way his fingers stretch and fill you, the slick sound of it obscene in the quiet alley.

"Think you can behave if I fuck you right here?" he asks, lips brushing your ear, fingers never slowing. "Or are you gonna be a noisy little brat and get us caught?"

Jason's fingers work your cunt like it's his job, those thick digits scissoring inside you, spreading you wide, your walls clenching down hard every time he drags them out only to push them back in knuckle-deep.

You're soaked, dripping all over his hand, slick and messy and obscene, and he fucking loves it. Loves the way you always need a little stretching, loves how no matter how many times he's fucked this pussy, you still go all tight and greedy on him like you're brand new every single time.

His thumb circles your clit, slow and deliberate, just enough to keep you right on the edge of frustration, never quite enough to let you fall over, and you whine—a long, high-pitched sound that makes him smirk.

"Jay," you slur, lips dragging over his jaw, sticky and soft, your fingers clawing at his back through his shirt, hips squirming helplessly against his hand. "Want your dick, baby, please."

"Shhh," Jason hums against your mouth, voice rough, fingers still fucking into you, that relentless rhythm making your thighs shake. "I've got you, baby. Let me make you cum first, yeah? Can't have you all tight and needy like this. You'll hurt yourself tryin' to take me."

"Don't care," you pout, sucking a mark into his neck, messy and wet, your tongue flicking over the spot before you nip at it, making him grunt softly. "Wanna be full, Jay, wanna feel you stretch me out, wanna feel you fuck me so deep, baby, please—"

"Jesus," Jason mutters, but there's no heat to it, just low, throaty amusement, like he can't believe how fucking desperate you get when you're drunk and horny like this.

He shifts his hand, fingers crooking inside you just right, dragging over that spot that makes you jolt, and you whimper, thighs clenching around his waist.

"Look at you," he breathes, eyes dark and hooded as he watches your face twist in pleasure, mouth all pouty and glossy, cheeks flushed, hair sticking to your temples from how hot you've gotten. "So fucking pretty when you're like this, baby. All fucked out and desperate for me."

"Because I love you," you slur, fingers fisting in his hair, tugging him down into a kiss that's all tongue and teeth, messy and clumsy and so fucking hot he groans into it. "Love your dick, love your hands, love your stupid face—"

Jason swallows your rambling with another kiss, his fingers never stopping, his thumb rubbing tight, fast circles over your clit until you're trembling, back arching, your whole body pressing into his like you're trying to crawl inside his skin.

"C'mon, baby," he whispers against your lips, voice low and dark and sweet like sin. "Cum for me. Make a mess all over my fingers, show me how bad you want me."

You sob—a high, helpless sound—as your cunt clenches down hard, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking freight train, your hips stuttering against his hand, slick gushing over his fingers and dripping down to his wrist.

"Good girl," Jason praises, kissing you through it, swallowing every little moan and whimper as his fingers keep pumping, working you through the aftershocks until you're twitching, trying to squirm away from the overstimulation.

"Too much," you mumble, slurring against his mouth, but he just hums, grinning against your lips.

"Fuck," Jason mutters, pulling his fingers from your spent pussy, shiny and dripping, your slick coating his knuckles and glistening under the dim alley light. He holds his hand up, spreading his fingers just to watch the strings of your arousal stretch between them, his lip curling into a dark little smirk. "Look at this messy little pussy, baby. You really are my perfect fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

You whimper, squirming against the wall, thighs trembling where they wrap around his waist, and Jason's grin only widens. "Can't get enough of me, can you? Drippin' just from my fingers. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna ruin you."

"Please," you mumble, words all breathless and slurred, your glossy eyes locked on his mouth like you're starving for him. "Kiss me, Jay."

He doesn't need to be told twice—his mouth crashes into yours, hot and hungry, all tongue and teeth and filthy little moans that make your head spin. You taste like your cocktails and him, and you drink down his groans like they're your favorite liquor, your fingers threading into his hair, tugging hard just to feel him grunt against your tongue.

His kiss is messy, wet, his teeth catching your bottom lip, tugging until you whine before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hand stays firm on your ass, keeping you pinned, while his other works at his belt with practiced ease, the jingle making your pussy clench down hard around nothing. Your thighs squeeze his waist, your needy body rocking against him like you're trying to catch his dick the second it's free.

"Desperate," Jason teases, voice thick with amusement, but his own breath stutters when his jeans finally slide down just enough to let his dick spring free, hot and heavy, the flushed tip already smeared with precum.

He grunts softly as he fists himself, dragging his slick thumb over the head before he ruts against your messy cunt, grinding his cock between your folds until his length is coated in your slick, sliding so easily against your soaked, swollen clit.

"Baby," you moan, head lolling back against the brick, your eyes going half-lidded, all glassy and drunk on him. "Want you so bad. Please, Jay."

"Fuck, you're so needy," he groans, angling his hips just right so the thick head of his cock notches at your entrance, pushing in just a little, stretching you open slow. "Always so tight for me, baby. So fuckin' perfect."

You whimper, hands scrabbling at his shoulders, his back, his neck—anywhere you can hold onto as he starts to push deeper, the stretch making your mouth drop open, your eyes going wide as your cunt struggles to take him, even as slick as you are.

"Every time," Jason mutters, almost to himself, watching your face, your body, your perfect pussy swallowing him inch by inch. "Every fuckin' time this pussy fights me at first. Like you forget how big my dick is until I'm stuffin' you full again."

He doesn't even bother bottoming out at first, just fucking into you shallow and rough, enough to make your body bounce against the wall, enough to make you cry out soft and sweet with every thrust.

"Jay—" you whimper, too loud, but he slaps a big hand over your mouth, muffling you, his own jaw tight as he glares down at you.

"We're still in public, baby," he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust, finally bottoming out in one stroke that makes your eyes roll back. "Behave. I don't wanna spend the night in jail 'cause my girl couldn't keep her pretty mouth shut."

You whimper against his palm, nodding hard, eyes still wide and glassy, and he kisses your forehead like you're not split open on his dick in the middle of a fucking alley.

"That's my good girl," he purrs, letting his hand slide down to grip your waist, both hands anchoring you now as he starts to move.

And fuck, he moves—lifting you up like you weigh nothing, only to slam you back down onto his cock, impaling you over and over, your messy little cunt squelching loud and obscene every time he bottoms out. Your slick coats his dick, smearing down his thighs, dripping onto the pavement, and he's fucking feral for it, teeth gritted, sweat beading at his temples from how tight you are.

"Fuck, baby, this pussy's made for me," he groans, his grip bruising at your hips, his cock grinding so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. "So fuckin' tight—so wet for me. Look at you, baby, takin' me so good. My perfect little slut."

"Yours," you slur, hands scrabbling at his shoulders, your head dropping back against the wall, throat exposed and begging for his mouth. "Love your dick, Jay. Love you. Love you so much."

"Love you too, baby," he grunts, barely coherent as your walls flutter around him, your cunt sucking him in so tight he can barely pull back without you chasing him. "Love this messy little pussy. Gonna fuck you stupid right here, doll. Gonna make you cum on my dick, and then I'm gonna stuff you full of cum. Even if it gets me arrested."

The words shoot straight to your core, making your pussy clamp down around him so sweet and snug that Jason has to grit his teeth, his hips stuttering just for a second as heat flashes down his spine.

"Fuck—just like that, baby," he breathes, voice low, vibrating against your neck. "Keep squeezin' me like that, doll, you're gonna milk me dry."

The sound of your cunt taking him is fucking obscene, a slick, messy squelch every time he pulls out, followed by a wet, filthy slap as he fucks back in, balls-deep. It echoes off the brick walls, mixing with his ragged grunts and your soft, breathless moans, and it's so fucking dirty it makes his cock twitch inside you.

His hands cup your ass, those big, strong hands lifting and spreading you, kneading your soft flesh as he works you up and down his cock like you're weightless, his fingers sinking deep enough to leave bruises tomorrow.

The sweet scent of your arousal fills his nose, thick and heady in the cool night air, and Jason can't help himself—he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling deep like he's getting high off the smell of your pussy.

"Always so fuckin' sweet for me," he murmurs against your skin.

His tongue flicks out to taste the sweat beading there before he sucks at your neck, hard and messy, leaving dark bruises like a brand. He soothes the sting with his tongue, a lazy, possessive stroke that makes you whimper and tighten your grip in his hair, tugging at the strands like you're trying to keep him exactly where he is.

He doesn't give a fuck if you pull every single strand out, doesn't give a shit if you ruin his scalp, because all that matters is the way your pussy feels—so fucking soft, so hot, clenching around him like you were made to take his dick. His thighs burn from the angle, his back sticky under his shirt, but none of it registers because all he can think about is how fucking good you feel, how perfectly you fit around him.

Jason knows, deep down, that this is fucking insane. He's not supposed to be fucking you in an alley in Bristol. Usually, he's the one talking you down when you're drunk and horny, steering you home with that cocky little grin, promising to fuck you into the mattress the second you walk through the door. But tonight, reason flew out the window the second you dragged him into the shadows, panties already soaked, begging for his dick like a needy little slut.

And fuck, how's he supposed to resist you when you look at him like that? When you sound like this? All soft, breathless little moans, spilling past your kiss-swollen lips as you clutch at him like you'll die if he stops? When your body trembles in his hands, your slick running down his balls, every ragged little breath carrying his name?

"Jason," you whisper, so soft and sweet it fucking kills him, your voice all wrecked from the way he's been fucking you open. "So big, baby. Feels so good."

"Yeah?" His voice drops, rough and husky, fingers digging into your ass just a little harder as he fucks you deeper, cock grinding against that soft spot inside you that makes you tremble all over. "This dick's yours, doll. Made to stretch this sweet little pussy. You're perfect, baby—fuck, you're perfect for me."

Your nails rake down his back, short little scrapes through his shirt that make his abs flex, and Jason growls low in his throat, biting at your neck, at your shoulder, anywhere he can sink his teeth into.

"So good, doll. So fuckin' tight. My messy little slut, all drunk and desperate for my dick. Gonna fuck you until you can't even stand, baby."

Your walls pulse around him like you're already close, your breath hitching in soft, uneven moans, and Jason groans against your skin, fucking you harder, faster, losing any semblance of control. His hips slap against yours, your slick painting his skin, his cock so soaked it glides into you with filthy ease.

"C'mon, doll," he whispers against your ear, voice dark and sweet, dripping filth like honey. "Be my good girl and cum for me, yeah? Let me feel you soak my dick. Let me ruin this pretty little pussy."

Jason's grip shifts, just slightly, and the angle hits different—deeper, somehow rougher, but the real kicker is how his hips grind up against your clit every time he bottoms out, his skin rubbing over that swollen little bundle of nerves.

It's not even intentional at first, just the natural press of his body against yours in this position, but once he hears the choked little moan you make, he fucking locks onto it like a bloodhound, making sure to grind against you every time his cock stretches you open.

Your head falls back, clunking lightly against the brick, legs tightening around his waist, pulling him in closer, deeper. "Gonna cum," you gasp, voice thin, whiny and so fucking needy Jason feels his cock twitch inside you. "Jay—gonna cum, baby, please—"

"Yeah, you are," he rasps, kissing you quick and filthy, all tongue and teeth, biting at your lower lip before pulling back to look at you, all fucked-out and perfect. "Cum on my dick, baby. Make a mess all over me."

His thrusts turn deep and shallow, grinding against your clit with every stroke, the fat head of his cock dragging over that sweet little spot inside you until your legs start to shake. Your whole body tenses, back arching off the wall as your cunt pulses around him, gushing so hard it drips down his cock, slicking up his thighs and the inside of yours, messy and obscene and so fucking good.

"OhmyfuckingGod," you gasp, the words running together into a high-pitched moan, your body trembling in his hands. You're loud—too loud, and Jason clamps his hand over your mouth again, shushing you in that low, dangerous tone that always makes your cunt clench.

"Shhh, doll. You wanna get us caught?" he murmurs, right against your ear. "I'll stop. I fuckin' will. I'll pull out and leave you drippin', you keep bein' so fuckin' loud."

You shake your head wildly, wide, desperate eyes looking up at him, your hands clutching at his shoulders like your life depends on it. You can't stop now—you need his cum, need him to fuck it into you so deep it sticks, so deep you feel him for days.

Jason knows. Of course he knows—knows how much you love it when he pumps you full, knows how fucked-out and blissed you get when you feel him leak out of you, warm and thick and messy.

He's just about to give you what you want when—

The flash of red and blue lights paints the alley in sharp neon. You both freeze.

Jason's heart fucking stops, then kicks up so hard he can feel it in his teeth, every muscle in his body going taut like a wire ready to snap. Your eyes go wide, mouth opening in a silent gasp, fingers digging into his back hard enough to leave crescent marks through his shirt.

"Shhh, baby," he whispers again, this time more soothing than stern, his hand smoothing over your hip like that's gonna calm either of you down. "If you're quiet, they're not even gonna know we're here."

You nod fast, lip caught between your teeth, eyes darting to the mouth of the alley where the cop car slows, brake lights flaring red through the shadows.

Jason's heart pounds, his cock still buried balls-deep in your cunt, and this might actually be the stupidest, most reckless shit he's ever done—which is really saying something, considering his track record.

The car idles there for a beat too long, and you start to panic for real, breath coming too fast, your fingers clutching at him, but Jason dips down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice low and calm.

"Hey. It's okay, baby. They're just bored. Ain't got shit to do out here. They'll move."

And they do—after what feels like a fucking lifetime, the car finally rolls past the alley, the glow of the lights fading into the night.

"See, baby? Told you. We're good."

He grins, kissing you again, slow and sweet at first, until you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper, the kiss turning sloppy and filthy all over again. Tongues sliding together, your moans humming right into his mouth, his cock twitching inside you.

"Now," Jason mutters between kisses, "where the fuck were we?"

He starts moving again, lifting you in his arms like you weigh nothing, slamming you back down onto his cock, the force of it making your whole body bounce, your slick cunt taking him so easy now after you came all over him.

Jason fucks you hard—not fast, not hurried, but with deep, brutal strokes, splitting you open every time, grinding against your clit at the end of each thrust until your breath stutters and your eyes flutter shut, head lolling back against the wall.

"Fuck, baby," Jason groans, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged, hands locked around your waist, holding you tight like you might slip through his fingers. "You're so fuckin' tight. You feel that, doll? Feel how perfect this little pussy fits around my dick?"

You moan, soft and breathless, nails raking down his back, and Jason fucking loves it—loves how wild you get for him, how no matter how many times he's fucked you, you're still so damn tight around him.

"Love this pussy, baby," he mutters, voice thick and low, "love ruinin' you. My messy little slut, all drunk and dripping for me. Fuckin' perfect."

He can't stop kissing you, can't stop tasting your lips, your tongue, the little whimpers you feed him between kisses, his hips never slowing, driving into you over and over, fucking you so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat.

He knows you need to get the fuck out of here before the cops come back, before some nosey old lady comes out of that wine bar and catches you. But your pussy's too good, too sweet and snug, and if he doesn't cum soon, he might actually lose his mind.

Jason's pace shifts—rougher now, driven by that primal need to fill you up, to mark you inside and out, to make sure no one could even think about touching you after this. His thrusts slam into you with brutal precision, the thick length of his cock dragging along every slick, swollen inch of your cunt, stretching you wide around him, splitting you open over and over until your pussy feels raw and tender and so fucking full it's like you can't take a breath without feeling him buried deep inside you.

He knows you can feel every vein, every ridge, the blunt head of his cock grinding right against your cervix, and fuck, you're so wet—dripping all over him, down his thighs, pooling between you, every thrust making a filthy squelch echo down the alley. If anyone walked past right now, there wouldn't be a doubt what's happening here.

Not with the way your slick coats his cock, makes every thrust slippery and obscene, not with the way your breathy little moans hitch every time he bottoms out, not with the way his hips slap against yours, skin sticky with sweat and arousal.

Your thoughts are a fucking mess—the only things running through your drunk, fucked-out brain are Jason, dick, cum, more. You can't think past the way his cock stretches you, how perfect it feels to be pinned up like this, taken apart by him like you're nothing but a toy, his strong arms the only thing keeping you up. You swear you can feel him everywhere, like he's inside your bones, like the next time you take a step you'll still feel the heavy weight of him between your legs.

He kisses you again, messy and desperate, tongues sliding together, teeth clashing, spit slicking up your chin, but neither of you give a fuck. Your fingers knot in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt into your mouth, and he swears he could cum from just this—from the taste of you, the feel of your cunt pulsing around him, the soft little whimpers you spill into his mouth every time his cock hits that sweet spot.

"Fuck, baby," he rasps, forehead pressed to yours, sweat beading at his temple, "this pussy's so fuckin' messy. So fuckin' tight. Can barely move, you're clenching so hard. You gonna cum again for me, doll? Gonna make a mess all over my dick?"

You nod, whining, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes because it's too much—too good, too deep, too full—but you don't want him to stop. "Please, Jay—wanna cum with you, wanna feel you fill me up."

"Yeah?" His thrusts speed up, hips snapping into you hard and fast, dragging you down onto him like a ragdoll. "Wanna feel me cum inside this needy little pussy? Stuff you so full it leaks out of you? You fuckin' love it, don't you?"

You whimper, nails biting into his skin, legs tightening around his waist, and you're so fucking close—right on the edge, your whole body buzzing, heat coiling low in your belly, until one perfect grind of his cock against your clit sends you over, your cunt fluttering around him, sucking him in so deep.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," you chant, head falling back against the wall, eyes rolling back, body shaking in his grip as you gush all over him, slick dripping down his cock, onto the pavement, messy and obscene.

"Fuck—there you go, baby. Fuckin' soak me," Jason groans, his rhythm stuttering, hips jerking, grip bruising around your waist. "That's my good fuckin' girl."

And then he's right behind you, cock throbbing, thick ropes of cum spilling into you, hot and heavy, pumping against your cervix until you can feel it everywhere, until you swear it's gonna leak out of your mouth.

His head drops to your shoulder, mouth open against your skin, breath ragged as his hips keep moving, slow, deep thrusts fucking his cum deeper into you, even though it's already dripping down his dick, slicking up your inner thighs.

But he's not done—not yet.

You barely catch your breath before he starts moving again, overstimulated and tender, but his dick's still hard, still hungry, and he loves you like this—drunk on him, too dumb to think about anything except the way he fills you up, the way he uses you like his personal fucktoy.

"Jason," you slur, clinging to him, nails digging into his scalp, his back, anywhere you can reach, "too much—too much—"

"You can take it, baby," he purrs, kissing you again, softer now, but still deep, still filthy. "Know you can take it for me. One more, yeah? Be my good girl."

And fuck, of course you're his good girl. Of course you'll give him one more.

He pounds into you harder, faster, sloppy and desperate, the sound of skin on skin mixing with the wet squelch of your cunt, the sweet scent of your arousal thick in the air, his nose buried in your neck, sucking messy bruises into your skin as his fingers grip your ass, kneading and spreading you, watching the way his cock disappears inside you over and over again.

Your thoughts are gone—totally fucked out, only able to focus on the way he fills you, the way his cum squelches out around his cock every time he thrusts back in.

And Jason? Jason's fucking feral—eyes locked on the sight of his cock splitting you open, cunt so swollen and puffy, all slicked up with both of you, and all he can think about is how fucking perfect you are.

"Look at you, baby," he whispers, voice low and reverent, fingers sliding between your bodies to rub your clit, even though you're already so sensitive you're trembling. "My perfect little pussy. Made to take me. Made to get fucked dumb, stuffed full of my cum. My sweet girl."

And that's all it takes—one more twist of his fingers, one more deep thrust, and you're cumming again, body jerking in his hands, cunt milking him for every last drop.

Jason kisses you through it, drinking down your whimpers, your soft little cries, soothing you with his tongue even as his hips finally slow, his cock still thick and heavy inside you, keeping every messy drop right where it belongs.

"Good girl," he breathes against your lips, forehead resting against yours, hands smoothing over your hips, "my perfect, messy girl."

Your body is deadweight in his arms, completely boneless and blissed out, every limb heavy with exhaustion and the sweet, drugged haze of post-fuck bliss. You're still trembling, but not just from the aftershocks—the cool night air prickles at your exposed skin, goosebumps pebbling over your arms, your thighs, the still-damp mess between your legs.

Jason feels it immediately, the way your soft, bare skin shivers against his, and it sends a twist of guilt through his gut—fucking you into a fucking alley like some horny teenager. But truth be told, it was your idea.

But before he can even say anything, your hands cup his face, small fingers curled around the rough edges of his jaw, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, and you kiss him. It's slow this time—messy, sure, still tasting like beer and sweat and something sweet that's all you—but it lingers, softer, deeper, your tongue curling into his mouth, tracing along his teeth, savoring him like you need to commit the taste of him to memory.

You're still trembling, but the heat between your bodies eases it just a little, your fingers combing through his damp hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp as you melt into him, the kiss lasting long enough that his dick gives a lazy twitch inside you again, still hard even after he just filled you to the brim.

Finally, you pull back, lips red and swollen, your face glowing with the kind of fucked-out bliss that makes his chest ache with pride.

He smirks down at you, brushing a strand of hair off your face as he mutters, "You're fuckin' insane, pretty girl."

You giggle, that sweet little drunken giggle that makes his cock twitch again, and your head tilts back against the wall. "I thought I was gonna die without your dick, baby."

He groans, shaking his head, but there's no real exasperation there—just affection under the rasp of his voice. "Yeah, like I said. Fuckin' insane."

But you're already nuzzling into his neck, soft lips brushing his skin, your breath warm and sleepy against his throat. You smell like sweat and sex, all wrapped up in that sweet scent that's all you, and his arms tighten around you without thinking.

His lips press to the side of your head, lingering there as he murmurs, "C'mon, we need to get you home, yeah?"

You pout, face still buried in his neck. "Can't move. "M tired. And cold."

"I know, baby," he soothes, one big hand rubbing slow circles on your back. "I know. I'll carry you."

You scoff weakly, lifting your head just enough to squint up at him. "We're far from home."

"So?" he shrugs, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't act like you weigh a ton of fuckin' bricks."

You giggle again, arms going slack around his neck as you settle more comfortably into his hold, cheek squished against his shoulder. Jason's hands ease under your thighs, holding you up as gently as he can while he slowly pulls out, your slick warmth clinging to his cock, your messy cunt fluttering around nothing as his cum immediately starts to drip down.

You whimper softly at the loss, fingers curling into his shirt, but before you can complain, he's already reaching down, sliding your panties back up over your swollen cunt. Not to keep you modest—no, that ship sailed about four orgasms ago—but just to keep as much of his cum inside you as possible. He watches the way the lace darkens immediately, soaked through from the mess he made of you, and his cock twitches again in the cool air.

He sets you down carefully, but your knees buckle instantly, legs still shaking too hard to hold you up. "Jesus, baby," he chuckles, steadying you with one arm as he tucks his cock back into his jeans, adjusting them like he didn't just ruin you against an alley wall. "Gonna have to work on your stamina."

"Don't be mean," you pout, swaying a little as he smooths your skirt back down over your thighs—not that it covers much, but at least it's an attempt at decency.

Then he grabs his jacket from your shoulders, wrapping it around you properly this time, tugging your arms through the sleeves before zipping it all the way up. It's way too big, swallowing your smaller frame whole, and the sight makes him laugh—your fucked-out face peeking up at him from inside the oversized jacket, makeup smeared, mascara smudged under your eyes, lips still swollen and shiny with spit and his kisses.

You pout harder at his laugh, but it only makes him grin wider. "Shut up."

"Never," he says, scooping you back into his arms like you weigh nothing at all. You try to protest weakly, but he shushes you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Just let me take care of you, baby. Bet those pretty little feet already hurt in those heels."

And you can't even argue because he's fucking right, and honestly? Being carried sounds pretty nice right now.

Jason's grip adjusts as he walks, arms cradling you tighter to his chest, your body boneless and pliant in his hold. You're so out of it, head resting against his shoulder, lips slightly parted, soft breath warming his skin every few seconds. His jacket drowns you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and he can feel the damp heat between your thighs seeping into the fabric where you're curled against him.

You're a mess—hair sticking to your forehead, skin sticky with sweat, makeup smudged in every direction, and his cum still leaking slowly down your thigh, leaving shiny streaks against your skin. But fuck if you aren't the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

He carries you easily, years of strength training making your weight feel like nothing. His feet move on autopilot, familiar with the route home, but his mind? That's a fucking mess.

Because Jason Todd doesn't do this. Doesn't fuck his girl drunk in a dirty alley with the risk of cops busting them. He's the one who's usually dragging your ass home before you get yourself into trouble, lecturing you about safety, tucking you into bed with water and painkillers. But tonight?

Tonight you begged so sweetly, moaned so filthy, kissed him so needy that all his common sense evaporated. And now he's here, hauling your wrecked body home, knowing you're gonna be sore as hell tomorrow—all his fault. And he can't even bring himself to regret it.

The door creaks softly when he shoulders it open, the apartment dim and quiet, and by the time he crosses the threshold, you're completely asleep against him. Your breath is soft and steady, face smushed into his neck, lips still a little wet from those sloppy kisses you couldn't stop giving him.

He sighs, kissing the top of your head before carrying you straight to the bathroom, flicking the light on with his elbow. The bright light makes you stir, a soft whimper leaving your throat, but you don't wake until he starts peppering little kisses across your face. Your nose first, then your forehead, then your cheeks—until your lashes flutter, and you blink up at him, all confused and sleepy and perfect.

"We're home, baby," he murmurs, voice soft.

You look around, eyes squinting at the light, brow furrowing as you take in the bathroom. "Huh?"

It's so adorably confused, so genuine, that Jason can't help but laugh.

"Yeah, doll," he grins, setting you down on wobbly feet. "We made it."

You sway a little, legs still weak, and he steadies you with one hand while the other shrugs his jacket off your shoulders, tossing it over the counter. Then he sinks to his knees, big hands cupping your ankles as he carefully unbuckles your heels, sliding them off one by one.

His palms rub over your skin, easing the ache, and he leans in to press a kiss to your calf before standing again. "Feet hurt?"

You nod sleepily, arms looping lazily around his neck, and he smiles. "Told you."

He gets the water running, warm but not too hot, and undresses you like you're made of glass—peeling the sweat-damp top and skirt from your skin, sliding your panties down those shaky legs, until you're bare and glowing under the bright bathroom light.

His own clothes come off fast, jeans and t-shirt kicked into the corner, and then he's guiding you under the spray, his big body crowding in behind you, keeping you steady.

You whine, soft and pitiful, as the water hits your oversensitive skin. "So tired," you mumble, cheek pressed to his chest.

"I know, baby," he soothes, hands moving quickly—gentle but efficient, washing away your makeup, the sweat and cum and alley grime, fingers gliding between your legs, over your thighs, along your back.

Every protest, every sleepy complaint, gets kissed away—a kiss to your shoulder, your temple, your lips. By the time he's rinsed you off, you're barely awake, your body slumping against him as he wraps you in a towel and carries you straight to bed.

You hit the mattress face-first, towel half hanging off, and you're out like a light in under five seconds.

Jason watches you for a second, shaking his head with a fond smile. "Hopeless."

He tries—he really does—to dress you at least in one of his shirts, but you don't even budge, and honestly? If you wanna sleep naked, who the fuck is he to stop you? Less work for him in the morning. He tosses the towels back into the bathroom, pulls on a pair of boxers, and slides into bed beside you.

The second his body heat hits you, you roll into him, face pressed to his chest, soft thigh hitching over his hip like you can't stand to have any space between you. His arm curls around your waist automatically, palm sliding up the curve of your ass, along your back, tracing lazy patterns across your bare skin.

He's still thinking—about you, about tonight, about how the fuck you've got him wrapped around your little finger so tightly that one pout can ruin every ounce of self-control he's got. And it should piss him off. Should make him wanna teach you a lesson. But instead, it just makes him want to ruin you again, until you forget your own fucking name.

"Insane," he mutters into your hair, mouth curling into a grin.

But you're his insane, and that's all that fucking matters.

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muqingslover · 2 days ago

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here I am thinking about goofy/strange habits each lads LI have when the two of you share a bed.

Xavier

First and foremost he is getting in bed with you no matter what.

If you're on the couch then he WILL find a way to fit and snuggle with you it's like cats are liquid theory.

Xavier likes to slip his hands under your clothes to feel your warmth directly.

He'd lay his hand flat against your tummy and let his thumb gently brush the soft skin while he relaxed.

The real problem is that, in more than one occasion, you wake up with his hands on your boobs.

Be it small, medium sized or big, he doesn't care. He is not doing anything just holding them for some reason while fast asleep.

Sylus

He likes to sniff you like a dog.

Sylus will pull you close against his chest after getting in bed and then he just sniff sniff

You told him multiple times to stop that but he can't help himself. I mean, what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

He finds comfort in your scent. It's specific to you and he absolutely loves it.

Even more so after you use his bath products so you start smelling like him and that makes him feel all fuzzy.

He will nibble on you like you're his personal chew toy. Don't freak out when you find red spots and teeth marks all over your skin the next day.

At times you may also find yourself being crushed to death by his very large and very heavy body. Don't worry though, just tap him a few times and he'll roll off of you.

In conclusion, Sylus is a very big dog with wings.

Caleb

This guy has a HANDFUL of bad habits like I could make a post just for him.

One of them is that he watches you sleep. And I mean watch.

The entire time he's so focused on your slumbering form that you'd think he was watching the most entertaining TV show in the world.

You have mini heart attacks whenever you wake up in the middle of the night and see him just....looming over you like a sleep paralysis demon.

You definitely socked him in the face by reflex once or twice. He's fine, he dodged it anyway.

It's not nearly as bad as to when the neighbors came to check in after you screamed bloody murder.

Additionally, Caleb takes pictures of you and has you losing hairs because he refuses to delete them

"Oh c'mon! You look sooo cute!"

Do yourself a favor and dose his drink so he'll leave you alone for the night./hj

Rafayel

This guy is the worst roommate ever.

Just kidding I love him.

He is very annoying though because his bad habit is to wake you up.

If he can't sleep then he's making it everybody's problem, including you.

He will hold your nose or be purposely loud so you wake up and then give him you the most fake nonchalant "Oh, did I disturb your afternoon nap?" "...It's 2 in the morning." "Well, since we're both awake now anyway—"

Literally not a single peaceful night of sleep unless he's asleep as well. It's like having a toddler.

My suggestion? Lock him in the bathroom while he's in the bathtub and enjoy your beauty sleep. You have at least four hours before he notices.

Zayne

He has no bad habits.

He will let you sleep as he should and just makes sure you're tucked in and comfortable. Top tier gentleman.

If I was to pick one is the fact he sleeps like a statue and scares the life out of you because of how stiff he is.

He sleeps on his back like a mummy and doesn't move at all throughout the night.

It's similar to when cats fall deep asleep and you can't wake them up so you think they're dead.

Just make sure he's breathing and bring him in to cuddle and everything's gonna be fine.

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chrattho1 · 2 days ago

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matt sturniolo drabble

10 minutes?

summary: you wear matt’s initial around your neck,and to say that hes turned on by it, is an understatement.

warnings: suggestive comments,use of petnames ( baby )

“hey baby” you walk out of the bathroom into matt’s bedroom, all dressed up. you watch matt shuffle in bed and turn around to look at you with half lidded eyes.

“hey” his voice hoarse and cracky,he rubs his eyes to get a good look at you. your hair falling in your face,nails manicured,rings stacked on your tiny fingers,wrist full of bracelets,chains hanging on your neck-and there it is,dangling off your neck as you bend down to pick something up. a gold pendant with “M” on it.

matt thought he’d seen wrong,his eyes were surely deceiving him right? matt also thought he was the only one obsessed with you so this was amusing to say the least. his eyes open wide to get a good look, his stomach does backflips at the thought of you buying and wearing his initial.

“i am going out with some friends,i’ll be back after lunch” you smiled at him briefly before getting back to filling your bag up with essentials.

“whats that?” matt yanked the blanket off of him and sat up straight,his eyebrows furrowed.

“whats what?” you look at him and notice the confusion on his face,and then he points at it—the gold “M” glistening off your skin,sitting right between your collarbones.

“oh” you gaze down at the pendant,fingers touching the letter lightly.

“i saw this website that sold these so i thought—” you were cut off by matt speeding off the bed,still only on his boxers and almost tripping on something on the way.

you giggle when he stands in front you,eyes now fully open as he looked right down at the pendant in utter awe. his fingertip traces the letter on your neck,gently like he’s afraid it’ll break.

“stands for matt?” words coming out of matt’s mouth before his brain could even process them,eyes so focused on the sight in front.

“ofcourse stupid,what else?” you chuckle.

“you’re gonna wear this out?” his eyes fixated on your neck as you nod at his question.

“fuck” he whispers,a smile tugs on your lips.

“everyones gonna know its for me?” hes asking questions like a child,wanting to hear you answer them with the most dumbfounded look on his face.

“i guess so” you shrug still not fully aware of the effect it has on him. you mindlessly place a hand on his bare chest and your palm is immediately met with his fasten heartbeat. you slowly bring your hand up to caress his cheek,smiling at him foolishly.

“do you like it?” you smile wider looking at his eyelashes flutter up to your face.

“do i like it?” he scoffs lightly,eyebrow raising at your question. he lets out a breath admiring the sight in front,he doesn’t know if this reaction is normal,his boxers feeling tight just looking at you wear his initial.

“think you got 10 minutes or less?” he asks,his voice laced with the severity of his situation,like if you don’t give him those 10 minutes he might die.

you tease him by glancing at your watch and pouting at him,knowing him —it wont take long for him to beg.

“please? just-please-” matt’s fumbled words and that desperate look on his face get to you,and you give in rather easily-pulling him in with a small smile.

“yeah i got 10 minutes” you wrap your arms around his neck pushing your body onto his,his breath hitches.

tai’s notes: tell me how you guys like this and if i should make a chris version too,req are always open;)

taglist: @espressqe @ginswife @sturnsburna @carolina454 @hope2244 @hotgirlbl0gger @violetstxrniolo777 @riggysworld @verycoolmiyah @fadedstvrn @purpledreamertyphoon @mattsplaything @whore4chris @annsx03 @mattsdemi @chrislittleslut @poolover123 @luvvnai @chrissturniolossidehoe @pompomprrin @harmonysturniolo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @soph-loren @ccsturns @lovesturni0l0s @chriss-slutt @wysmols @sturniolosluttt @mattsdillion @alyssa-sturn @bilssturns @sturnobessed @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @chrissturnioloswife88 @sxphiee3 @purpledreamertyphoon @whoreforchrissturnniolo @slutformatt17 @realuvrrr @sweetxcheeryx @sturnl0ve @estellesdoll @glitterybtch @courta13 @mattsbitchh @slvtf0rchr1s @trevorsgodmother

#chris sturniolo #tai speaks ☆#christopher sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #chris x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris imagine #nick sturniolo #chris smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

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eand47 · 2 days ago

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The 'Nice Lady'

ONE SHOT (REQUEST) - Portgas D Ace/Reader (female)

REQUEST: I am not sure if you take requests but if you do, can you do a small fluff of ace introducing y/n as his wife in alabasta to the strawhats!

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, use of pet names, Ace is a little touchy but you don't mind, stealing, fighting marines

WORD COUNT: 3,7K

✰ masterlist ✰

NOTE: This request was so fun to write so I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did ♡ I know that it took me a month to post it and that is why the end is kind of rushed, for which I'm sorry, but I hope you guys understand that things take time and that writing is just a hobby for me ♡ Thank you for all the support ♡ Feel free to like, comment and reblog as it helps reaching more people ♡ Enjoy♡

Arabasta – the hottest island and country you have ever been on. Sand and endless kilometers of desert between each city are everywhere. Right now, you are in Alubarna, an ancient city and the capital of Arabasta. The city architecture is manly domed buildings and towers, with ruins from the past all over the outside parts of it, making it very exotic and attractive for people from other islands to visit and explore, though now it is mostly local people around as the country has suffered a big lack of water so the drought that has taken over the country is life treating, except for the capital.

Looking for an escape from the burning hot sun in the busy market streets in Alubarna, you have found yourself in a small clothes shop, trying on different and typical for the country dresses or two-piece sets. Taking look at the mirror and twisting your body left and right you will lie to yourself if you say that you haven’t fallen in love with the current two piece set you are wearing. It is a beautify long white skirt with golden belt on top of the waistline with small Caribbean blue stones attach to it. Your chest is covered by a white top – white see-through long sleaves and a bra part, covered in white and golden sequins with a beautiful crafted Caribbean blue stone in the middle of it, you have never felt prettier in a pair of clothes as you feel now. Looking at the mirror you feel like a princess of the desert.

“You are definitely coming home with me.” You murmur with a smile to yourself as you check yourself out one last time. “How much are you by the way?” Tapping with your hands trying to find the price tag your eyes widen once you have found it. “A thousand and five hundred berries! Are they crazy?” Shaking your head in disbelief you take the price tag in your hands and tear it away from the skirt. “Not like I was planning to pay for it anyway.” You whisper with a smile as you gather your own clothes in the small green zebra print bag you have carried with yourself. Stepping out of the changing room you look around carefully before going to the cash register.

“Oh, I see you have liked the set, m’lady.” The middle-aged man, the owner of the shop you guess, says as he sees you approaching him.

“Yes, I did – in fact I plan to buy more, but you see...” Your gesture to him to get closer to you like you don’t want the rest of the customers to hear what you are about to say. “I’m very pretensions and I was wondering - do you by any chance have something that it hasn’t been displayed yet?” You flutter your lashes at him. “The price doesn’t matter.” You give a little wink as you see him falling for your little act.

The middle aged, slightly round and bald man’s eyes spark with happiness as he hears this – you are his favourite type of client. He tells you to give him a second and that he will be back in just a second and the moment he leaves the cash register you don’t waste any time and run out of the shop. After a moment you hear a scream, a yell, something among the lines “Catch the bugler!”, but it is too late now as you have already escaped and blend yourself with the crowd in the market.

Walking along the streets you start to look around for your husband. He has to be somewhere near by, you just hope he hasn’t wandered somewhere far away, as sometimes he has the habit to does so.

“Buy this apple and you will be able to live up to thousand years.” You hear a merchant offer his scammed goods to someone.

"Sorry, I'm not interested in living thousand years. I just need to live today." You hear the person responds, and a sly smirk appears on your lips. Fixing your posture and lifting your chin up a bit, you start walking around the market a bit more confident. It doesn’t take long before you hear a voice behind you. “Who in their right mind has let you wander around all by yourself?”

Biting on your inner cheek, trying to stop yourself from smiling, you answer. “My husband.”

“Ah, what a fool is your husband. Letting a gem like you all alone.” The person walking behind dramatically says. “What if someone steals you?”

“I doubt someone would dare.” You shrug with one shoulder as you make a turn, walking into a small dead-end alley, away from preying eyes.

“Hm, how so?” The man behind you smirks as he has followed you and now stands even close to you.

“Because my husband always finds me.” You smile as you turn around to face the man standing behind you and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a burning, full of passion kiss.

“You look beautiful baby.” Ace says as he pulls away from you and checks you all without any remorse. “Damn, I really need to stop letting wander by yourself, because someone might steal you from me for real.” He pulls you close to him as he runs his hands around your bare waist, feeling your soft skin under his fingers.

“I can say the same for you Portgas.” You giggle as you place your fingers on his broad muscular chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingers. He is always so warm, even without the burning sun, Ace is like a walking one, but you don’t mind it, you never had and never will. After all you have gotten a personal heating blanket in the face of your husband for the rest of your life, how can you complain? “Are you hungry my love?”

“Always.” He slowly nods and licks his lower lip, not being able to tear his eyes from the curves of your body in this two-piece set. He usually can’t take his eyes of you no matter what you are wearing, or not wearing, but this piece of clothing is doing something to him.

“I meant food Ace.” You softly sigh as you place two fingers under his chin and lift it up so he can look at your eyes. “Eyes here boy. So, are you hungry?”

“Always.” He says as he pulls you close to him once again and kisses the top of your head before you get on your way to dish and dash somewhere.

You are both sitting at the bar in the first restaurant you have found. While Ace is already on his third plate you are still on your first, taking your time savouring the taste of the tipical local dish you have ordered for yourself, enjoying the new flavours that you are trying for a first time ever, while your husband just appreciates the fact that the food is good.

“Have you got any leads so far?” You ask your raven-haired husband.

“No.” He answers with frowned brows. “But I’m sure I have something on Lu-” Hearing a loud splash noise from the plate of your husband, you jump on the side as you don’t need to look to see that it is in fact him having a narcolepsy attack midway lunch.

“Thanks God, he didn’t eat something with sauce on it.” You breathe out relieved, after checking your outfit to see it has gotten a spot or something from the food. People in the restaurant gather around your worried, but you told them not to worry as you got this. Pulling Ace up, you clean his face with a napkin as this has become like a second nature to you now, as he slowly starts to wake up.

“Sorry, baby. Please don’t tell me I ruined your clothes.” He gives you an apologetic look as he checks you out to make sure he hasn’t splashed any food on you. You shake your head with a smile and before you get the chance to respond to him - he is gone. Your husband is literally gone, as he has been swept away with a force straight through some walls and now instead of him, a guy identically looking like your husband, stands next to you.

“Ha, now this is interesting turn of events.” You chuckle as you observe the boy with the straw hat standing next to you. “Running away from trouble Luffy?” You ask like you have known him for years, even though this is the first time ever you see your husband’s little brother, whom you only know from stories and his bounty poster.

“Yes, this annoying Smoker doesn’t leave me alone.” He answers to you without even questioning how you even know him or what is he running from. “Hey, are you eating all this by yourself?” He looks back and forth between you and the three extra plates left with food from your husband.

“Eat them if you are hungry.” You smile and hand one of the plates to the young reckless pirate and his eyes widen from happiness as he takes the plate and devours it in seconds. “You can take the rest as well.” You say standing up as you make your way to where your husband has been sent flying to make sure that he is okay, you know he is, but you are sure he would like to know that it was his little brother who caused all that.

“Thank you, nice lady.” Luffy screams after you with full mouth.

You just giggle as you make your way through the broken walls. “Damn, this was quite the impact.” Murmuring under your breath you finally reach your husband, who is getting up from the ground and doesn’t look very happy with what have happened. “Are you okay, Ace?” Your sweet voice catches up his attention and he just nod. Opening his mouth to say something he is getting interrupt by a yell from Smoker, who you haven’t even noticed until now, but he is long gone before any of you can react as he goes to chase after Luffy once again.

“Straw-hat?” Ace looks at you with excitement.

“Yes, I forgot to mention that the person behind this mess in no other than your little brother, so I think you might want to jump in the chase.” With a little twist of your body to the side you gesture to your husband to go run after his brother.

“You know where to meet me princess.” Ace says as he gives you a quick peck on the lips and runs after his brother.

“Huh? That’s weird. Why am I the only one here?” Luffy wonders as he finds himself in a dead alley sitting on a water barrel, with neither his crew nor brother around. Speaking of his brother, he still can’t believe he has reunited with him after not seeing each other for who knows how long. “Where did everyone go?”

“Sheesh! I guess my letting you escape was pretty pointless.” Luffy hears the too familiar voice sarcastically says somewhere close to him. Looking around and then finally up, Luffy sees his older brother standing there with a big smile.

“Yo, Ace!” Luffy jumps on his feet as his brother lands on the ground.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Luffy.” Observing now his grown little brother, Ace can’t feel anything else but be proud of him and of the man his is becoming.

“You too, Ace.” Both grip on each others’ hands is a strong lock over the barrel. “How long has it been?”

“Good question, but Luffy, it looks like you still go on your own pace, just like you did when you were kid.” Ace smirks mischievously as he can feel his brother putting force in trying to get Ace’s hand down and claim himself a winner.

“You too, Ace. I was surprised you ate a Devil Fruit, but besides that you’re the same.” Luffy says with a big grin.

“Oh, ye?” Ace laughs out loud as he hasn’t expected to hear this. He has definitely changed a lot since they last saw each other.

“Like when you would sneak into the fields and eat a hundred watermelons and then spit the seeds like your mouth is a gun and run?” Luffy blurs out fast as Ace has taken upper hand in their hand fight.

“This wasn’t me. It was you.”

“And then you got big bumps right here.”

“That was you again. I just watched and laughed.” Ace says as he is close to take the hand of his little brother down, but the barrel with water under them breaks due to their strength and their hands stay in the air locked in a firm handshake.

“I guess we’re both the same.” Luffy’s big smile spread across his face as him and Ace unlock hands and go for a high-five. “This brings back memories.”

Walking around town the two brothers are having small talks and catching up to each other, yet Ace still hasn’t mentioned the fact that he has married the girl of his dreams recently as he wants to do this when you are standing next to him. You have turned his life upside down in the best way possible and having you in it makes it finally worth living.

“Say, what kind of crew you have?” Ace is curious to know with what people his little brother has surrounded himself and Luffy wastes no time telling him about his crew – a swordsman, a navigator, a cook, a lair and the latest addition a reindeer. “That’s quite the variety you’ve got there.”

“We also have a princess and a duck now.” Luffy excitedly exclaims. “They’re all so interesting.”

“I’m sure you are the most interesting of them all.” Ace chuckles. “Still, a handful of people for a pirate crew... That’s just like you.” He smirks looking at Luffy.

“And I want a musician, too.”

You are waiting patiently by the Striker. It has been some time now, but you are sure that Ace is just catching up with his little brother. As you are sitting and waiting, finally, you see you husbands silhouette approaching you. You get up on your feet and smile at him once he stands in front of you.

“How was it?” You ask while wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You have to meet him officially.” Ace tells you with a big smile. “He is already on his ship so we can make a quick visit. After all I need to check his crew personally, what if they are not good enough for him?”

“Ay, ay commander.” You laugh out.

You and Ace gather your things quickly in the Striker and get to the open sea fast. As you are approaching the Going Merry you notice that there are quite lot of marines.

“I will take care of them.” Ace winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes. He just wants to show off to his little brother and crew, but you won’t deny that you enjoy the show yourself. It doesn’t take long for your husband to take down the three marines ships after all he is Fire Fist Ace, what else is there to be said?

Landing on the railing of the Going Merry, Ace is met with an awe by the entire crew. While they are having their little interaction you have reached the ship with the Striker and quietly made your way up to your husband who sensed you the moment you stopped your little boat.

“Hey, Luffy.” Ace awkwardly says with a big grin spread across his lips. “There is someone I would like you to meet.” He scratches the back of his neck as he is not sure exactly how to announce to his brother that he is a married man now. “You see I-”

“Hey, what are you doing here, nice lady?” Luffy asks confused as he is the first one to notice you standing next to Ace on the railing, and now him, his crew and your husband all look at you confused. A sea of questions start being thrown at you from how you managed to get on the ship to who you are, until one particular question takes everyone out by surprise.

“Nice lady? Why does he call you this?” Ace looks at you in confusion.

“Oh, we met in the restaurant where he sent you flying.” You explain with a smile and Ace’s eyes shit to Luffy who nods his head in confirmation.

“She let me eat for free.” Luffy adds and now it all makes sense to Ace why he calls you the ‘nice lady’. “How you two know each other?”

Looking at you, with all the love and admiration in the world, Ace can’t stop the smile which spreads across his face as he says, “This is my wife.” You return the smile as you two step down of the railing into the deck and interlace your fingers. “Luffy and crew, this is my wife (Y/N).” Ace introduces you to everyone and they are all in awe, now that the confusion and shock has passed away.

“He is a good big brother.” Chopper, the cute reindeer doctor says, and Usopp the guy with unusual long nose nods in agreement.

“Wish I had one growing up.” Usopp adds to Chopper’s comment.

“And he is a good husband.” Nami the navigator of the ship as she has introduced herself to you exclames as she cluches her chest admiring you and Ace.

“A loving one on top of it.” Vivi, the princess of Arabasta, adds as she wraps her arms around Nami.

“I hope I get blessed with such a beautiful, gorgeous wife myself one day.” Sanji, the cook of the ship cries out, and for a moment you even think that if his eyes can turn into a heart shape they will.

“Simp.” Zoro, the swordsman, makes fun of him, but the blush on his face is not helping as he shyly takes glance at you.

“Wife? Why?” Luffy’s eyes shifts between you and Ace in slight confusion. The whole concept of marriage has been something he has never understood so this is a bit confusing for him.

“What do you mean by why, you idiot?” Sanji screamed at him. “Having a wife as beautiful as (Y/N)-swan must be the closest feeling to heaven.” He cries out again.

You and your husband just laugh at the scene in front of you. His brother is exactly as he has described him, but he is obviously a good kid with good friends along his journey.

“When did you two married?” Vivi looks at you excitedly and Nami follows her with a question.

“How did you two meet?”

“How do you find a woman like her?” The lovesick cook cries out... again.

Before you or Ace can answer any question Luffy interrupts. “Why don’t you stay with us for a bit?” To which you agree.

Two days have past since you have joined the crew and both, you and Ace, are having fun with his brother and friends. The similarities between Ace and Luffy sometimes scare you a bit, due to the fact that you are aware they are not biological brothers by any means, yet they act and look like ones so much.

The night has taken over the desert and you are having fun with the girls, missing the feeling of having female company around you, as the crew you are part of is mostly made of men, which you don’t mind, because not only you have met the love of your life among these men, but also your family.

Everyone has started preparing to go to sleep, while the little adorable reindeer Chopper is having a little banter with Usopp, but Zoro is quick to put an end to it. Meanwhile Ace is observing everyone and everything carefully, enjoying the night, but also lost in his own thoughts.

“Yo, Luffy. Come here.” Ace calls out for his brother and signals to him with a nod to follow him. Stepping aside from everyone and making sure that no one would hear him, Ace looks at Luffy seriously. “I want you to promise me something.”

“What?” Luffy raises one brow a little annoyed with his brother interrupting his fun before bed.

“If something ever happens to me, I-” Ace can’t finish his sentence as he is quickly being interrupt.

“What do you mean if something happens to you? You have promised me that you won’t die.” His brother is quick to remind him the promise Ace has given a long time ago.

“And I won’t.” Ace replies slight harshly as his brother doesn’t even let him finish his sentence. “Now let me finish what I have to say.” He scolds Luffy. “I’m saying – If something happens to me, I want you to promise me to take care of her.” Ace can’t help but look at your direction. “I know she is strong and can handle herself no matter what, but please, promise me that you will look after her if something ever happens.” He returns his attention to his brother.

“I promise Ace. But you also have a promise to keep.”

“And I will.” Ace winks to his little brother as he pats his back, and they return to the rest of the group.

Seeing them coming back you give Ace a smile – a smile for which he is willing to die for but also keep on living for every day, as his days have become better since the day he saw it for a first time ever. Back there he has promised to himself on the spot that he will call you his wife no matter what, and he did keep his promise.

writing, format, header & dividers © eand47 ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

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ipushhimback · 3 days ago

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Hugs?

pairing: lando norris x reader words: ig around 500? warinings: periods?

summary: you wake up with cramps and your boyfriend comforts you <3

You woke up in the morning feeling like crap. Your whole body was aching and even just the thought about moving just a little made it hurt even more.

Lando was still softly snoring next to you with his arm wrapped around your waist and his face buried in your neck. You gently moved his arm from your waist as the pain was just intensifying with the pressure. Your boyfriend scrunched his face but didn’t wake up. Luckily.

You didn’t need him to wake up to you being on your period the first time he stayed over at yours. You knew how unbearable you could become when you were in pain and your hormones were all over the place.

But only a few minutes later you could feel Lando stir next to you as he stretched himself and rubbed his eyes before opening them and looking at you with so much love in them you thought you would melt in a puddle right now.

“Hey, darling. How long have you been awake?”, he asked with a sleepy smile on his face.

“Not long. Maybe ten minutes or so. You slept well?”, you asked as you pressed a kiss to Lando’s lips.

“Yeah. Your bed is comfy. Or maybe I just like having you next to me. You ok? You look a little pale”, Lando said while he furrowed his brow in worry.

“All good, Lan. Just tired”, you tried to reassure him though you could see that your boyfriend didn’t believe you.

The next moment you couldn’t pretend to be fine anymore as a sharp wave of pain rolled through you, making you swear under your breath. “Fuck.”

“You are absolutely not ok. Is it your period?”, Lando asked and you just stared at him perplexed. “I have sisters. No pretending here. I did it all. Doing hot water bottles. Going to the store to get chocolate or whatever cravings they had. Buying pads in the middle of the night. Seriously, just be honest. Is it bad?”

You couldn’t help but nod as you felt your eyes well up with tears by how sweet your boyfriend was.

“You want a heating pad? Hot chocolate? Painkillers? Hugs?”, Lando asked again and you nodded while the tears started falling.

“Oh, baby. No crying, ok?”, Lando said as he wiped the tears from his your cheek. “I’ll be back in a minute”, he continued as he got up.

As promised, he returned only a little later, having a heating pad, painkillers, water, and a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. He placed it all in front of you and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you again. You leaned your head on his chest and let yourself just be held.

Lando leaned forward a little and grabbed the painkillers that he then held out to you.

“Here. They’ll help.” He grabbed that water bottle as well and opened the lid.

You took a sip and placed the bottle back on the table to swap it with the hot chocolate.

“I hate seeing you in pain”, Lando said as he kissed the top of your head.

“Well, I hate being in pain”, you said chuckling a little. “But thanks for being here. For taking care of me. I was scared you might be grossed out”, you admitted.

“Grossed out? Never. You are amazing and I won’t leave over something so small. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Lan.”

a/n: something short bc i am planning to write something else but don’t have any inspiration… also, i think all of us deserve a lando in our life who makes us hot chocolate

tags: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n

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mairon-goth-minion · 3 days ago

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so I took some liberties with the prompt whoops word count: 1542

I remember the day I first met Cain like it was yesterday. It was a coincidence, as his parents took him to a ball the instant he turned eighteen despite his being sick. The same ball I attended after I’d just finished my training. He was young, I was younger and I was foolish, but foolishness is a trait shared by most seventeen years old, I believe. Nevertheless, not knowing who he was, not knowing that his station was far above mine and that he was not the son of a knight as I was but the heir to a duchy, I approached him.

Despite his feeble demeanor, he… shone. Was it his golden locks, falling as a river down to his waist? Was it his emerald eyes, brighter than any jewel I’d ever seen? Both? I do not know.

So I went towards him. At first, he looked surprised to see someone reaching out. Did he not know just how beautiful he was? His first words to me were “‘Who are you?’” ‘Hector of Redenbrough, but you can call me Hector. Or Hec. Whichever you prefer.’ I grinned. ‘Hector…’ he said, his voice but a whisper. ‘I am Cain.’

At first, I had believed that the lack of last name came from an embarrassment on his behalf, and had believed him to be born in a rather low station. I could not have been more wrong.

‘Well, Cain, will you offer me this dance?’ I could have asked anyone else, but I didn’t want to. It was all about Cain, and it always has been ever since. His cheeks flushed, he took my hand. It was plainly obvious that he’d never danced before, but I gently led him. I did not care about the amount of times he stepped on my foot. He was too light for it to hurt. It was a happy moment.

The second time we met, he was twenty five, and still terribly sick. A gaunt, pale thing. His father had passed and he had become the Duke of Sulinard, as well as my superior. I think that he recognized me, when he looked at the legions of knights standing in front of him, kneeling. Why else would he have chosen me to be his bodyguard? Was it a coincidence?

I remember the surprise that I’d felt that day, both because of learning his identity as one of the most powerful men in the Kingdom and because I was selected amongst so many others.

“‘Congrats, Hec!’” were words I heard many times, and I remember getting drunk in a tavern with friends, celebrating my new position.

It was a year later that things began growing sour. Cain’s health was rapidly declining, as were my hopes.

See, Cain and I had become friends. I don’t think that he ever had anyone to talk to before I came along and took him to the dance floor, and I didn’t mind spending my days talking with the most intelligent and beautiful person I’d ever met. He fascinated me. He was gentle and frail, but held within him an infinite curiosity for the world, and I could have spent my entire life merely watching Cain talk of things he’d read in his books. So when he was too weak to leave his bed, I became desperate.

I knew that his illness had no cure, and what could I, a mere knight, do when his rich family had tried everything? Well, there are certain things that desperate men will do when all hope seems lost that not even the vilest of humans would even consider. I made a pact with a vampire.

Following rumors and whispers, and after months of research, I found Hara in a small shepherd’s village, where she fed off of sheep. She was starving, and I offered her my blood in exchange for Cain’s life.

Hara didn’t want to, at first, having promised herself never to kill, but I was a desperate fool, and I would have done anything for Cain. So she drank, and drank, and drank, for the first time in her life. I think that she would have drank all of my blood had I not stopped her. When I brought her to Sulinard, Cain was on his deathbed. I was nearly too late. Everyone had lost hope, and he laid on the cold sheets alone with no one by his side.

I took his icy hand, pressing it to my lips, tears staining my cheeks as Hara sank her teeth into his neck. Was I a monster for doing this to him? After all, I had condemned him to an eternity of thirst for my selfish desire to remain by his side.

When she was done, Hara turned to me, grief in her eyes. ‘You know what you made me do, don’t you?’ ‘I do.’ ‘He will never forgive you.’ ‘I do not care if he hates me for ever, as long as I can see him smile one last time.’ I was compelled to honesty. ‘I do not care whether or not he lives an existence of misery, if it means that I know that he breathes still.’ ‘You condemn him to a life of shadows.’ ‘I know.’ ‘He will be hated.’ ‘I know.’ ‘He will be alone.’ ‘I know.’ Hara shook her head, furious. ‘You are the true monster here.’ ‘I know.’ She left, and I never saw her again. Perhaps she still feeds on sheep in faraway villages.

When Cain woke up, I cried of joy. My master had opened his eyes. ‘Hector? Wh- Why am I alive?’ When I told him what had happened, I saw horror in his eyes. ‘You did what?’ His voice was sharper than my sword, and I nearly flinched. ‘You are an undying, My Lord.’ ‘No,’ he said, crestfallen, looking truly afraid. The fear was soon replaced by a glorious fury I’d never seen before in his eyes. ‘WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?’ ‘I couldn’t lose you.’ Grief flooded in his eyes as I said those words. ‘So I will be the one to lose you?’ Clenching my teeth, I nodded. ‘No,’ he whispered once more as the room became suddenly dark. ‘You will remain by my side, Hector, and you may never leave it.’ Shadows twirled all around us, lashing at my skin, leaving red bleeding wounds, but I did not scream nor feel any pain, too lost was I in his eyes, darker than the void of a starless night. ‘Magnificent…’ I murmured as the shadows tore open my chest and entered my heart. It was more pain than I’d ever felt before, shooting through my body as poisoned needles in my veins, and I screamed and screamed and screamed, crying of pain. Yet through this I laughed. I was happy that it was Cain who was hurting me. What a sick and twisted monster I am.

When I opened my eyes, I was in his bed, blood covering the sheets, and he was standing next to me, his clothes and mouth tainted red. Whose blood was it? I would have said mine had my flesh not been completely void of scars or wounds. I soon learned that it was the other members of this household whom he had killed. His mother, his sister, his servants, all of them. I did not mourn any. All that mattered was that Cain was still standing.

The shadows apparently had left a black mark on me, on the back of my neck. As long as he lived, I would too, and I was to belong to him forever. I was the happiest man alive.

For centuries, I stood by his side, as his bodyguard, as his friend, as his companion. I killed any person daring to try and harm him, and I did whatever he asked of me.

I am different than I was. At first, I remained a proud knight despite my belonging to a vampire, only slaying in duels or war. But now? I am no better than an animal. When I fight, it is no longer as a knight. I am a dog, a vicious one, a dog that’s lived for centuries by his master’s side. When I fight, it’s with my teeth and nails, in alleyways where no one can see the bodies of those whom I mutilate.

Cain still resents me, I think. He sent me to war many times. I have seen horrors. I have seen trenches of blood. I have seen the loss of faith. I have seen what Men can do when they let go of morals. Cain resents me but still he loves me, sharing with me his bed and body.

“‘Who are you?’” His words from a distant past echo in my ears, sometimes. Today, my answer would be ‘I am yours’.

You are the knight bodyguard of a vampire, but as the centuries went by it became less and less noble. Now you're mostly just a glorified servant, and when you fight it is not an honourable duel, it's shanking someone in an alleyway.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #vampire #knight #good x evil #evil x good #the knight is the evil one here XD #oneshot #my writing

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rosiecosy · 14 hours ago

Text

operation: wake-up attack˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(seventeen x reader) — fluff

a/n —just a littleee bit of canon divergence bcs im writing this from memory

"y/n, wake up."

na pd's voice barely registered in your sleep-fogged mind. you curled deeper into the blankets, pulling them over your head. "no."

"y/n."

"no."

"y/n."

"you can’t make me."

na pd sighed, rubbing his temples. this was taking way too long. inside the room, a small audience had formed—mingyu, hoshi, dino, seungkwan, joshua, and seungcheol, who was leaning on his crutches with an unimpressed look. they all stood around your bed like some kind of intervention.

"this is painful," seungkwan whispered.

"i told you she wouldn’t wake up easily," joshua muttered back.

"just carry her," seungcheol said, so done with everything. "someone get her out of bed already."

mingyu grinned. "my time to shine."

before you could even react, the blanket was ripped away, and strong arms wrapped around you.

"nooooo—" you groaned as mingyu effortlessly lifted you into his arms. "traitors. all of you."

"yeah, yeah," mingyu said, adjusting his grip so you were secured against his chest. "guess what, y/n? we’re going to italy."

you buried your face into his shoulder. "i don’t care."

"hello?" seungkwan gawked. "italy? one of the most beautiful countries in the world?"

"don’t care."

"pasta? gelato? shopping?" joshua tried.

"sleep."

"she’s hopeless," dino muttered.

"not my problem," mingyu said. "now let’s go wake up jeonghan."

—

jeonghan’s room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. he was curled up under the blankets, his breathing slow and even. completely unaware of what was about to happen.

mingyu, still holding you, turned to the others. "how do we do this?"

"same way as last time," dino suggested.

"but jeonghan’s scary when he wakes up," seungkwan whispered.

"that’s why y/n is the sacrifice," hoshi said, nodding wisely.

"wait, wait," you mumbled, suddenly more awake. "why am i always the sacrifice?"

"because mingyu’s already holding you," joshua pointed out.

mingyu grinned. "alright, launch time."

"mingyu, no—"

too late.

with way too much enthusiasm, mingyu threw you onto jeonghan’s bed.

you landed with a soft thump, bouncing slightly before rolling straight into jeonghan’s side.

for a moment, there was silence.

then—

"mmfh," jeonghan groaned, shifting slightly. "what the hell—"

"good morning," you mumbled, resting your head on his pillow. "we have to get up."

jeonghan barely cracked an eye open. "why are you in my bed?"

"i was thrown here against my will."

the members lost it.

"her delivery was so calm."

"jeonghan looks so confused."

jeonghan, still half-asleep, sighed deeply before turning onto his side, wrapping an arm around you, and pulling you right back into the blankets. "wake me up in ten more minutes."

"traitor!" seungkwan shouted. "you can’t steal her back to sleep with you!"

"watch me," jeonghan muttered, already dozing off again.

mingyu huffed, walking over and grabbing your arm. "nope, come on, we’re leaving."

you groaned as mingyu physically pulled you away from jeonghan’s grasp. jeonghan tried to keep you in bed for all of two seconds before giving up with a sigh.

"fine," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "but you’re all dead to me."

seungkwan grinned. "worth it."

mingyu readjusted you in his arms as you yawned sleepily. "next target?"

you sighed dramatically, already knowing you were about to be thrown onto another unsuspecting member. "let’s get this over with."

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ashwhowrites · 2 days ago

Note

omg yay requests are open! Could you do smth with the concept of Eddie with a reader that is very affectionate with everyone but him, and when he finally confronts her about it, confused, and honestly a bit hurt, she’s forced to reveal her crush on him?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting ❤️

Why am I different?

Eddie was used to being treated differently. It happened all his life and he doesn't think it'll ever stop. He found a good group of friends who treated him like a human.

A new friend was introduced to the gang and Eddie couldn't get a good read on her. She didn't seem shy, very affectionate with everyone. Well everyone except Eddie.

Whenever she arrives somewhere, she greets everyone with a hug. Eddie only got a wave and a small smile. She sat close to others during movie nights, but whenever Eddie sat next to her she had so much space between them.

He was positive she didn't like him or that his rough exterior deserved judgment in her eyes. He was fine if she didn't like him, but he wasn't fine with being ignored and treated differently when he did nothing wrong.

He didn't know that it was the complete opposite. She saw him for the first time and swore she had never seen a man that beautiful. His skin looked soft and his face was flawless. He made her nervous and she wasn't sure how to react around him. So she tended to freeze around him, hoping if she didn't move a muscle he wouldn't notice the crush she had on him.

She would love to give him a hug, but then she's worried she wouldn't ever want to let go. To feel his chest against hers and arms wrapped around her, she'd probably stop breathing. She couldn't give him a kiss on the cheek like the others, she'd lose control and want to kiss his pink lips. She couldn't sit next to him without craving to crawl in his lap and feel his body heat for hours. She tried her best to talk to him but even then she could only get out a few words.

~~~

"Sorry, I'm late," Eddie apologized as he welcomed himself into Steve's place.

"No worries, it hasn't started yet," Steve said as commercials played on the television. Eddie scanned the room and sighed to himself when the only open spot was next to Y/N. He gave her a small smile and took the open spot. Her body tensing up didn't go unnoticed.

Y/N chewed on her lip nervously as Eddie's scent filled the room. Her mind was racing as she tried to distract her body from the fact that Eddie was only inches away from her.

She made sure she was as far to the one side of the couch as she could. Afraid if she touched him electricity would spark.

Eddie felt a small sting as he felt her body scoot away but he kept his eyes on the screen.

~~~

Y/N greeted the older gang with a hug and kisses on the cheek, working through the group. Eddie stood off by himself, watching as she embraced everyone but him.

"Hi Eddie," she said with a small smile, a nod in his direction.

"Hi," he said flatly. His tone caused her eyes to fall away instantly, but he didn't feel bad.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Robin called as she threw herself in Steve's passenger seat. Today, Robin, Steve, Nancy, Eddie, and Y/N planned a trip to the beach, and Y/N felt terrified. Not only would she have to be in a swimsuit in front of Eddie but he'd be shirtless in front of her. She made sure to pack sunglasses so if she found herself staring, it wouldn't be noticeable.

Eddie and Nancy slid in the car, leaving Y/N. She gulped as she noticed the middle seat was the only free spot.

"You don't mind sitting in the middle right?" Nancy asked, a smirk on her face. She knew all about the crush on Eddie and she enjoyed making Y/N's life hell.

"Oh... uh," her eyes looked over at Eddie, "yeah that's fine."

Eddie scoffed as he got out of the car, allowing her to move past him. Once she was squeezed in the middle, she let out a deep breath, glaring at Nancy. Eddie noticed the glare, his feelings a little hurt as he looked out the window.

The entire car ride Y/N was squeezed into Nancy's side, practically on her lap. Eddie wished it didn't bother him, but he thought Y/N was attractive, and he liked the personality she showed with her friends. He wished she would be like that with him, he wished she would give him a chance.

Once they arrived, Eddie fled from the car, stepping aside to smoke a much-needed cigarette.

"I think it bothers him that you ignore him," Nancy said as she watched him stand to the side.

"I don't know how to be normal around him!" Y/N whined, "he makes me nervous."

"Let's just try, small steps."

Y/N was soaking in the sun, keeping her eyes shut so she didn't constantly look at Eddie. Luckily, he was busy with Steve, so she had time to settle her thoughts.

She groaned when the sun went behind a cloud, ruining her tan. She opened her eyes, startled to see Eddie standing over her. She gulped as his frizzy hair shines in the sun, and how his sunglasses fit his nose perfectly. He stood shirtless, the sun beginning to soak into his pasty skin.

"We need to talk," he said, not letting her answer as he took a seat right next to her in the sand. His elbows dug into the hot sand as he held his body up, then his head turned to her.

Y/N was frozen, staring ahead as the waves brushed the shore.

"Look at me," he hissed, "and I won't tell you again."

She bit her lip as she ignored how hot her body was getting from his words. She turned her head, locking eyes with him through their sunglasses.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

Y/N shook her head immediately, "no" her voice was soft and shy.

"Then what's your deal?"

"Nothing," Y/N said, "I promise."

"Then why do you treat me differently? I get that we might be very two different people but you are judging me without getting to know me. And that bothers me."

Y/N had to give him credit for calling her out. He dealt with it for a while. She took a deep breath, fighting off the wave of nausea.

"I'm not judging you, and I never judged you. I have a crush on you," she admitted embarrassed, "you make me very nervous and I was scared. I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings." She watched his face for a reaction, holding her breath.

Then he began to smile. "You have a crush on me?"

She rolled her eyes at his cheeky smile and teasing tone. "Don't be an ass."

Eddie apologized, scooting closer. He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, looking at her. She matched him, taking off her glasses as she nervously looked into his eyes.

"I think you're pretty and I'd love to get to know you better," his words made her heart race. "How about a date?"

She couldn't believe it. Eddie Munson asked her on a date.

"I'd love that."

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxthx @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #ashwhowrites #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader

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losers-clvb · 3 days ago

Text

good boy // dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x female!reader

summary: you call dean a "good boy" as a joke, but things heat up when you notice the hard-on it gave him.

content: sub!dean, dom!reader, use of "good boy", praise, smut, unprotected piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), strip tease, dirty talk, dean smells reader's panties, face riding, orgasm denial, whiny dean winchester, overstimulation if you squint, dean comes inside reader, cockwarming, sweet dean post-orgasm

word count: 2.1k

note: okay, i don't know where the fuck this came from. inspired by those tiktoks of girlfriends calling their boyfriends "good boy" as a joke. i am a switch!dean believer. give that man an order and he will follow it.

masterlist

----

“That’s a good boy.”

Dean nearly dropped the plate you had asked for.

“What?” He asked, looking at you bug-eyed. You bit back a teasing smile.

“I said, you’re a good boy.” You said, purring the last two words. It was out of character for you to speak like this, especially to him. You were his best friend, yes, but the most you had done was tell him a certain shirt looked hot on him. Now, you were watching him squirm under your intense gaze.

“Why-,” Dean started, but cleared his throat when his voice cracked halfway through, “uhm, why am I a,” he hesitated, “good boy?” He finished through gritted teeth.

“You did what I asked.” You shrugged and took the plate from him. In all honesty, you had only said the words because of some social media post that had caught your eye earlier that day. It was supposed to be something small, make him laugh at you, but now you were wondering if you should’ve just scrolled past it.

You looked back at Dean and narrowed your eyes at him. He was still staring at you.

“What?” You asked when he didn’t say anything. Was he mad at you?

“Nothing.” Dean replied, but it came far too quickly to be natural. You flickered your eyes across his face. He was avoiding eye contact. You caught a glimpse of his blown pupils and his cheeks flushed pink. A realization crossed your mind.

“Did you like that?” You asked, stepping toward him. His eyes fell to your hands, tracking them when they moved to place the plate on the counter. You ran your tongue over your teeth before smirking at him. “You like being a good boy?”

You placed a hand on his chest and swore you could feel his heart pounding. You flicked your eyes to his face.

“Do you like being my good boy?” You asked, a sultry tone falling over you. You felt him tense up. You trailed your fingertips down his chest. His breathing quickened when your hand landed on the bulge in his jeans. “I think you do.”

Dean swallowed down the shame he felt. He was supposed to be the big, bad hunter, not this. He squeezed his eyes shut when you leaned in to kiss his neck.

“You like being told what to do, baby?” You purred. A small moan fell from him before he could bite it back. You pulled away and Dean’s eyes shot open.

“Follow me.” You ordered, voice lilting softly. You turned on your heel and began to walk to your room. When you didn’t hear footsteps behind you, you wondered if you had messed up. Maybe he was uncomfortable, not turned on.

You had almost started to crawl under your bed to die from embarrassment when your ears caught the fall of his socked feet on the floorboards. You turned to face him.

“Get on the bed.” You pointed to where you wanted him. Your voice wavered slightly. You weren’t used to this, giving orders. It was… nice.

Dean sat in the spot and looked up at you. You bit your lip and walked closer until you were standing in between his legs. His hands flew to the backs of your thighs and pushed you so you were straddling his lap. Oh, Dean wasn’t completely powerless after all. You pushed your hips down into his.

“Do you wanna fuck me, De? Wanna feel me squeeze around your cock when I come?” You breathed into his ear and bit down on his earlobe just enough to pull a noise from him. His hands gripped your ass.

“Yes.” Dean breathed out. You licked your lips and kissed him. He kissed you back hungrily.

You pushed his chest, causing him to fall back onto the bed. Your fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his flannel. You ran your nails down his exposed chest. It didn’t leave any scratches, but it did make Dean groan.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and let me take what I need?” You asked. Dean nodded. You smiled and he could see the flash of desire in your eyes. You bent down and licked up his abs. If you were going to do this, you would take full advantage of it.

“Mmm, nice and hard for me?” You hummed out when your clit brushed against his bulge through your leggings.

“Yes,” Dean hissed in pleasure, “all for you.”

You rolled your hips down again and moaned theatrically. Sure, it felt good, but you liked the way he reacted to your noises more than the actual pressure. Just as you had hoped, Dean squeezed your ass again.

You stood from him and raised an eyebrow when he whined in protest. Who knew Dean Winchester was so needy? Oh right, you did.

You stripped for him. It was all for his pleasure. You were just having fun making him feel good. Your arms pulled your shirt up slowly, hands kneading your breasts through the fabric before exposing them to him. His mouth was practically watering at the sight.

You turned your back to him. Your fingers hooked around the waistband of your leggings and you worked them down your legs. You were a little clumsy pulling them off your feet, but Dean didn’t see to mind. The only thing between him and your throbbing core were the lacy green panties. You thanked past-you for choosing the pair, knowing the color matched his eyes almost perfectly. You shuffled them off and let them hang from your finger, dangling them in front of Dean’s face.

He leaned his head forward just enough to stick his nose into the wet patch, moaning at the idea that he had anything to do with this. You licked your lips again and dropped the underwear to the ground. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off with another push. He fell back to the bed and you crawled on top of him.

“Have a taste, baby.” You encouraged, positioning yourself over his face. Dean blew out a breath to steady himself. You moaned softly at the pressure, hands resting on his where they held your thighs. You almost demanded he do something to pleasure you, but the words were forgotten when his tongue stuck out and licked up your slit. Your breath hitched in your lungs when he pulled you down, putting all your weight on his face.

His nose nudged at your clit while he ate away, his hunger for you tearing through any restraint he had left. You buckled over in pleasure when he groaned into you, the vibration tearing through your pussy.

“Don’t stop,” you practically begged, forgetting for a moment that you were the one in control. You felt his tongue push into your hole. It didn’t go too deep, but between the muscle inside of you, his nose nudging on your clit, and his lips moving against you, it was becoming too much. You whined out his name when your climax came, grinding down on his face.

You were feeling pretty good right now, but you wanted more. You clambered off of him and turned to sit just above his head. His lips were swollen and he was smiling like an idiot, but you figured he wasn’t too pussydrunk to listen to you.

“Take your jeans off.” You demanded. You were surprised at the strength in your voice, the bossiness you thought you only had when you were angry shining through. You watched him do as you told, mouth slightly parted when his dick sprang up and hit his stomach. His eyes trailed to you and he waited for the next order, fists balling up to keep from grabbing at you.

You tore your eyes from his length to blink up at him.

“Come fuck me.” You said simply, but it was like they were Dean’s trigger words. He launched himself at you, dragging your body to the edge of the bed. Caught up in the moment, he pushed into you without a condom. That would be tomorrow’s problem. Now, you were only worried about how many times he could get you to come.

“So tight,” Dean moaned, thrusting his hips into you. Your eyes fluttered to the ceiling.

“S’all for you, Dean.” You managed to get out. “All for my good boy.” You were making a point of using that until he told you to stop, not that it would be any time soon. The name made him choke out a breath and increase his pace.

“Ah!” You seethed when his hip bone bumped against your clit continually, back arching up. You grabbed his face in your hand and squeezed his cheeks together before kissing him.

“You’re fucking me so good, baby.” You moaned out. You felt his hips stutter for a moment. He needed help, the praise was getting to him. You managed to flip him over. He was now on his back and you were on top of him. You don’t know where the strength had come from.

You lifted your hips before slamming them back down. The tip of his cock sponged against your g-spot and you sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods above for giving Dean that slight curve. You cried out when his thumb rubbed into your clit, Dean returning the noise when you clenched around him.

“You’re such a good boy, listen to everything I say,” you babbled, rubbing your hands over your breasts. You rolled your eyes back, the words meant for Dean somehow increasing your own pleasure.

“Gonna come,” Dean warned you, swallowing when your eyes shot open. He watched a crazed look cross your face.

“No!” You bit out. You sucked in a breath while you continued to ride him. “You don’t come until I say you can.”

Dean choked on his protests. His head flung back in both concentration and ecstasy. Fuck, he wanted to come but you holding him back was making it so much better. You panted out short breaths, almost hyperventilating. You reached a hand down to squeeze his balls, smiling menacingly when he gripped the sheets on the bed. It’s not like you enjoyed seeing him in pain, but knowing that you held so much control over him had a flurry of ideas flooding through you.

“Can I come?” Dean whined. You were close, oh so close, to another orgasm, but not quite there yet.

“N-no.” You stuttered out, eyes closing again to keep up your stamina. You honestly didn’t know you had it in you to move like this, with this much energy. You chalked it up to the new experience. If you had known it felt this good to be in power you would have done it a long time ago. Then again, maybe it was just from being with Dean.

“Please, baby, please.” Dean begged, voice going up an octave when you rolled your hips down. You ignored him. He wouldn’t allow the release until you gave him the magic word.

You looked down at him again. Your chest warmed to see Dean reduced down to this whiny, needy mess underneath you. You wondered if any other girl had done this for him, if he had ever let them take control. You liked to imagine that you were the first, that you would be the thing that Dean would remember every time he was able to be submissive.

The thought made your knees buckle and you keeled over, forehead on Dean’s chest. You tried to lift your hips up again, but it was more of you grinding down onto him.

“Now.” You gasped. Dean made a strangled noise and you felt the warmth of his cum bloom into you. You breathed into his skin and swore you could see stars as your own release flooded into you. You closed your eyes to focus on it, your eyelashes butterflying against his abs.

Dean’s arms wrapped around you to tousle you to the side. He was still inside of you, his dick now soft. You were curled up against him, body wore out. You couldn’t remember a time when you had come so hard.

“We have to do that again.” You mumbled. Dean was able to find the energy -- from where, you didn’t know -- to chuckle. He stroked your hair, fingers tangle in between the strands.

“Later.” He answered, breathing in the scent of your hair. Your skin was tacky with sweat, and you were sure there would be many, many questions that needed to be answered tomorrow, but for now, you fell asleep in his arms, his dick still stretching you out.

#supernatural #dean winchester #x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #spn #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #sub!dean #sub!dean winchester x dom!reader #sub!dean winchester x reader #female!reader #x female!reader #jensen ackles #supernatural smut

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majoryeager104 · 3 days ago

Text

I know we can’t say what we mean

Part 2 of Number one Girl in your eyes

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Summary: Now that the cats out of the bag, you try to get closer to Katsuki, despite the fact that he seems to be avoiding you. But, his behavior is way less petty than it seems

Warnings: language

1.1k Word Count

✦••······················••✦•······················•✦••······················••✦

After last night, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. You’d confessed. You’d told him you liked him, and he said it back. He liked you back. And yet, he left right afterwards, not saying another word. Anyone else would be confused, but who am I kidding? It’s Katsuki. So instead of worrying, you called Mina up and told her everything. But as time ticked by, you wondered if letting him leave was the right choice, but really, you were just happy to have that confession off your chest.

Meanwhile, Katsuki was panicking. Why had he done that? Were you serious? Why had he done that? Surely it was a prank. And the whole way down the hallway, to the elevator back down to the common room? The only thing he was thinking? Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit-

But while he ranted to Kirishima for the rest of the night, you slept like a baby. You’d finally told him, and realized you were content with that. Surely, since he’d admitted his crush too, that the two of you would talk about it later, right?

Wrong.

Because who am I kidding? It’s Katsuki.

You walked to class the next morning refreshed and happy- excited even, after all who wouldn’t be in this situation? You walked in, your eyes absentmindedly landing on Katsuki. You always gave him a quick glance when you were walking into class, it was a habit at this point… only this time he was looking back.

You blushed and waved, and, to your confusion and dismay, he narrowed his eyes and looked away, crossing his arms on his desk. You frowned, but figured he was probably a little embarrassed about it, and dismissed his behavior, and yet your eyes still lingered on him, the moment sticking in your mind.

And he noticed. Oh boy he noticed the frown. And once again, Katsuki Bakugo was in a state of pure panic. Why did I glare at her? Why couldn’t I just wave back? What kind of an asshole-

His thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Aizawa’s entrance, and he did his very best to focus on class after that, he really did. But he felt terrible. What kind of guy confesses to the girl he likes, and then leaves? What kind of guy then glares at her when he sees her the next day? God he felt so stupid.

After class, it was only a matter of time before you began to be anxious. He seemed to be avoiding you, and it confused you to no end. He did say he liked you back right? You weren’t dreaming? So then why was this all so…awkward?

It took till late that evening for you to really get an answer. You’d decided to take a walk around campus before heading back to your dorm, when you saw you-know-who (no reader, not Voldemort) doing the exact same thing. He was walking in the opposite direction, on the same strip of sidewalk, Katsuki Bakugo in his messed up tie, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

At first, when he spotted you, he’d made an attempt to look away and ignore you, walking past like you weren’t there like he usually did. It was a simple tactic that he didn’t realize he used fairly often to avoid people. One small issue is that you literally did not care.

“Hey Bakugo, can we talk for a minute?”

He froze, his already tense shoulders flinching slightly as he turned to look at you, but he managed to play off his anxiety as annoyance fairly well, as he always did. “What do you want?” He said bluntly, glaring back at you. You stared at him for a moment- after last night, you hadn’t really expected him to be this…snappy. You took a deep breath, sighing as you spoke.

“A straight answer” you replied, making the boys brow furrow even more. “Huh?” He replied, glancing away a few times, anything to avoid facing the music. “I mean it’s my turn to ask you…what’s wrong?” You replied, walking a tad bit closer to him. As expected, he backed away from you, scoffing. “Nothings wrong. Leave me alone” he replied, about to turn when you grabbed his hand.

He completely froze, his head slowly turning to look down at your hand on his, the way you held it so gently, it stuck with him. You knew that if he was mad at you he could probably rip it away from you in less than a second, but your grip was gentle anyways. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to make him more upset. Or maybe it was because you knew he wouldn’t pull away, wouldn’t stop you. You were right.

“I confessed to you last night, Ba- Katsuki. And you said you liked me too. Now are you gonna keep being an asshole, or are you gonna be a normal person and invite me on a date?”

Your words hit his ears louder than any of his explosions could- they rang and rang until eventually he finally looked up at you. His mind was full of so many anxieties and nerves that he couldn’t really tell which thoughts were his own, or were a figment of his fear anymore. He was so scared of making you hate him that it was driving him crazy.

He pulled his hand away slowly, staring at yours for a moment before straightening up and looking at you, letting out a sigh. “Y/n L/n… will you… can… this is stupid-” he stopped, shaking his head and about to turn around before you grabbed his hand again. “no you’ve got it, keep going” you replied, and damn it, he’d think, you cheering him on wasn’t helping. Now he was a blushing mess, and had absolutely no idea what to say, so instead of acting like it, he just acted like he usually did.

“Damn it- Just go out with me!….please”

His words hung in the air, his gaze pleading with yours until you finally smiled at him. “Yeah, i’d love to” you said softly, still holding his hand. You weren’t really thinking about the touch, too happy in the moment, but he certainly was. He had to look away and turn from you entirely to hide his blush, and even then you could still see the pink tinge on his ears.

“K..whatever. See ya"

He began to walk away, his hands stuffed in his pockets once more.

“Katsuki?”

Once again, his shoulders tense

“What”

“Don’t you want my number so we can plan the date?”

✦••······················••✦•······················•✦••······················••✦

For the record, he was locked in for every other date after this. Pookies still learning.

Tags: @mikestuffffs @ilovemushroomss @misfortvne @blue-sky336

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jisungiesvzz · 3 days ago

Note

Hii I absolutely loves ur fanfic!! Would u mind doing a jeongin version on unexpected?

I'm sorry this took so long to write! I’ve been having heavy workloads from school and I've also had writers block ugh. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :).

Crossing Lines

Idol!Jeongin x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing lessons, making out, neck kissing

Word Count: 2.7k

Author's Note: please let me know if I missed warnings, otherwise enjoy :)

Versions: Hyunjin // Han // Jeongin

—

The afternoon sun streams through Jeongin's apartment windows, casting golden hues across the living room. You sit cross-legged on the floor, a small velvet pouch between your fingers as you rummage through its contents.

"I still can't believe I forgot my jewelry," you sigh, carefully examining a silver chain with a small fox pendant. "You sure you don't mind me borrowing yours?"

Jeongin smiles from his position on the couch, phone in hand as he scrolls through his social media feed, hoping to run across a good hang out spot near you. "What's mine is yours, y/n. Three years of friendship earns you jewelry-borrowing privileges."

Giving him a soft smile, you hold up one of his earrings to the light, a simple silver hoop that catches the sunbeam and sparkles.

"It's scary how well you know me," you laugh, sorting through more pieces. "Like, you knew I'd forget something tonight."

"That's why I always keep extra stuff around for you," he replies, setting his phone down. "I am fully prepared for Hurricane Y/N."

You playfully throw a small cushion at him, which he catches effortlessly. You can't imagine your life without these little moments—the casual hang outs in his apartment, the inside jokes, the way he always seems to understand exactly what you need.

"Hey, remember that truth or dare game at Chan's party last week?" Jeongin suddenly asks, a tint of curiosity in his voice.

You groan, instantly knowing where this was heading. "Please, not this again."

"I'm just saying," he continues, sitting up straighter, "I was surprised when you said you've never been kissed. I mean, you're twenty-two!"

You feel your cheeks warm, lowering your voice to a near mumble. "So? Some people are late bloomers..."

"It's not a bad thing," Jeongin says quickly. "I just... I don't know, I just assumed you had."

You shrug, suddenly finding the jewelry in your hands incredibly fascinating. "I guess I've just never found the right person... or the right moment."

A weighted silence settles between you, unusual in its intensity. You can feel Jeongin's eyes on you, but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"I could teach you."

The words hang in the air, simple yet earth-shattering. Your head snaps up, certain you've misheard.

"Teach me what?"

Jeongin's expression is unreadable, a mix of nervousness and something else you can't quite place. "How to kiss. If you want."

You feel like the air has been sucked from the room. This is Jeongin—your best friend, the person who holds your hair back when you're sick and who can make you laugh until your sides hurt.

"That would be weird, wouldn't it?" you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugs, attempting nonchalance though you can see the tips of his ears turning pink. "Only if we make it weird. It's just a skill, like teaching someone to drive or cook."

"A skill," you repeat skeptically.

"Yeah," he says, sliding down from the couch to sit across from you on the floor. "And then when you meet someone you actually want to kiss, you'll be ready."

You bite your lip, considering the possibility. The idea sends butterflies swarming through your stomach, but there's also a strange sense of... curiosity.

"Nothing would change between us?" you ask cautiously.

Jeongin shakes his head firmly. "Nothing. We're best friends first, always. This would just be me helping you out."

You take a deep breath. "Okay."

"Okay?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Yes. Teach me." You confirm, your heart pounding through your chest.

Jeongin moves closer, his movements careful and deliberate. "So first, it helps if you face each other," he explains, his voice lower than usual.

You readjust your position, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space between you and him. The jewelry laying forgotten on the floor beside you.

"Usually there's eye contact," he continues, and you force yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes—those familiar eyes you've looked into a thousand times—now seem different, deeper somehow.

You tried convincing yourself that it’s just kissing lessons but something about kissing him feels more intimate than it should.

"Then what?" you whisper.

"Then, one person usually leans in. Sometimes both." His hand comes up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, and you feel your breath catch. "Sometimes there's touching. Like this."

His fingers trace a feather-light path along your jawline, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. The sensation sends shivers down your spine.

"And then?" Your voice is barely audible now.

Instead of answering, Jeongin leans forward, closing the distance between you. His lips press against yours, gentle and questioning. Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, your hand tentatively reaching up to rest on his shoulder.

The kiss is soft, a brief moment of connection that ends almost as quickly as it began. Jeongin pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

"That's the basics," he says, his voice rough around the edges. "A simple first kiss."

You nod, unable to form words. Your lips tingle where his had been, and you find yourself wanting more—a realization that both thrills and terrifies you.

He's your best friend. Right…?

As if reading your thoughts, Jeongin speaks again. "Then there are... deeper kisses."

"S-show me..." you whisper, surprising yourself with your boldness.

This time when he leans in, there's an urgency that wasn't there before. His lips capture yours more confidently, one hand cradling your face while the other slides around your waist, drawing you closer. You respond instinctively, your fingers tangling in his hair, gently tugging at the strands.

What started as a lesson quickly transformed into something neither of you anticipated. The kiss deepened and you feel yourself being gently guided backward until you're lying on the floor, Jeongin hovering above you, your lips never parting.

When you finally break apart, both breathing heavily, you stare up at him in wonder. His hair is disheveled where your fingers have been, his eyes dark and intense.

"Innie…" you breathe, not knowing what else to say.

Without a word, he dives right back in, capturing your lips with a newfound hunger. There's no hesitation now, his movements filled with a hunger you’ve never seen before — his body pressing down against yours making you gasp into his mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, any thoughts of keeping distance between you long forgotten.

"There's more I can teach you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with want. Before you can respond, his mouth begins to trail along your jawline, leaving a path of fire in its wake.

"Different types of kisses," he explains between soft pecks along your skin, "are for different sensations."

Your breath hitches as his lips reach the sensitive spot just below your ear. Instinctively, your head tilts to give him better access, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"Like here," he whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Then his lips press against your neck, gentle at first, then with increasing pressure. The sensation is entirely new to you, electric pulses shooting through your body with each kiss.

"Innie," you gasp, overwhelmed by the feeling.

His hand slides up to cradle the other side of your neck, a small smile forming on his lips at the nick name as his thumb gently strokes your cheek, his kisses become more intense. You feel the gentle graze of his teeth, followed by the soothing warmth of his tongue against your pulse point, a soft moan falling from your lips as he repeated the action.

"Some people," he murmurs against your skin, "are more sensitive here than on their lips." As if to demonstrate, he places an open-mouthed kiss at the space where your neck meets your shoulder, causing you to arch involuntarily against him.

You're lost in sensation, any remaining thoughts about this being just a lesson completely gone. Your hands roam across his back, pulling him closer as he continues his thorough exploration of your neck.

When he finally returns to your lips, the kiss is different—deeper, more confident, as though he's staking a claim. You respond with equal fervor, the taste of him now familiar yet intoxicating.

As Jeongin pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, a small smile plays at his lips. "So," he says softly, "how was your first lesson?"

"I- I don't know what to say," you softly gasped, still recovering your breath.

Placing a soft peck on your lips, he sits up off the ground, gently taking your hand in his. "Come on. Let's go finish our original plans for the day."

Heart beating through your chest, you let him guide you off the ground and through the front door — the heated moment hanging in the air. A small part of you wishing it hadn't ended.

—

The next evening, you were in Stray Kids' dorm, squeezed comfortably between Jeongin and Hyunjin on the large sectional sofa. Chan had insisted on a movie night—something about needing to unwind after their intense practice schedule—and naturally, as Jeongin's best friend, you were included in the invitation.

What the others don't know is how everything changed between you and Jeongin just twenty-four hours ago.

The memory of his lips on yours, on your neck, makes your cheeks flush even now. You've spent most of today exchanging knowing glances, the anticipation of seeing him again had your stomach in knots all day.

"Everyone good with the movie choice?" Chan asks, remote in hand as he navigates through Netflix.

You barely register what film he selected—some action thriller the group has been wanting to watch. All you can focus on is Jeongin's proximity; the subtle scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body next to yours.

"Y/N, want some?" Felix offers you the bowl of popcorn from across the coffee table.

"Thanks," you murmur, reaching for it. As you settle back with the bowl, Jeongin shifts closer, his thigh now pressed firmly against yours.

The lights dim as Chan starts the movie. Under the cover of darkness, Jeongin's hand finds yours, his fingers intertwining with yours between your bodies where no one else can see. Such a simple touch shouldn't send your heart racing, but after last night, everything is different.

Twenty minutes into the film, you're not following the plot at all. How could you, when Jeongin's thumb is tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand? When his breath occasionally tickles your ear as he leans over to whisper some joke about the movie?

By the thirty-minute mark, his hand had moved to your knee, resting there casually as though it belongs. The weight of it burns through the fabric of your jeans.

Halfway through the movie, during a particularly intense action sequence that has everyone's attention fixed on the screen, Jeongin's hand begins to move. Slowly, torturously, his fingers trace upward along your thigh, just far enough to make your breath hitch, gently squeezing the flesh.

You shoot him a warning glance, but the innocent smile he gives you in return is betrayed by the mischievous glint in his eyes. He knows exactly what he's doing.

His hand retreats momentarily when Changbin gets up to refill drinks, but as soon as everyone is settled again, it returns—this time sliding to your inner thigh, his touch feather-light but unmistakably close to where you could feel yourself growing needy. Your body responds immediately, heat pooling low in your abdomen, his hand now venturing into territory that makes your pulse quicken and your thoughts get jumbled up.

When his fingers inch higher, gently squeezing your thigh, you nearly jump. It's too much—the darkened room, his members just feet away, completely oblivious, and Jeongin's touch threatening to unravel you entirely.

"Bathroom," you whisper, standing abruptly. Jisung pauses the movie, looking up at you questioningly.

"Just need a quick bathroom break," you explain, forcing a casual smile. "Don't wait up, I've seen this part."

You slip away from the living room, heart hammering against your ribs as you make your way down the hallway. The cool bathroom tiles are a relief under your feet as you close the door behind you, leaning against it and exhaling slowly.

"Get it together," you mutter to yourself, turning to face the mirror — your reflection showing flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

Splashing cold water on your face, you hear a soft knock at the door.

"Y/N?" Jeongin's voice is low, just audible enough for you to hear. "You okay?"

Taking a deep breath, you open the door just enough to see him standing there, concern etched across his features—though the darkness of his eyes tells another story.

"I'm fine," you whisper. "We should get back before they—"

Before you can finish, Jeongin has slipped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The bathroom suddenly feeling much smaller with him in it, the air between you charged with tension.

"What are you doing?" you ask, voice sounding small.

"I couldn't help myself," he admits, closing the distance between you. "Sitting next to you, not being able to really touch you... it's driving me crazy."

"Your members are right outside," you remind him, even as your body betrays you by leaning toward his.

"They're absorbed in the movie," he counters, his hands finding your waist. "Besides, I told them you weren't feeling well and I was checking on you."

"And they believed that?"

A small smile plays at his lips. "Felix gave me a knowing look, but the others are clueless."

Your protest dies in your throat as Jeongin presses you gently against the wall, his body flush against yours. Any restraints from before evaporated into thin air as his lips capture yours in a kiss that's hungry and desperate.

Your hands immediately find their way into his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue meets yours. This isn't the careful instructional kiss from yesterday—this is raw need, months of pent-up desire finally breaking free.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs against your lips, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt to touch and squeeze the bare skin at your waist. "About you."

Your response is lost as his mouth moves to your neck, finding the sensitive spots he discovered yesterday. The sensation pulls a soft moan from you, which Jeongin quickly silences with another kiss.

"Quiet," he whispers, a teasing glint in his eye. "Unless you want everyone to hear."

The thought of being caught should terrify you, but instead, it only heightens everything—the racing of your pulse, the heat of his touch, the urgency of your kisses.

His hand slides back to your thigh, higher than he dared in the living room, his fingers tracing patterns that make your breath catch. When he presses his hips against yours, you can feel exactly how much he wants you.

"Innie," you gasp as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot below your ear.

“Fuck, y/n.” he grumbles against your neck, softly nipping and licking at the skin there, eliciting more moans from you.

“Innie, ngh, you’re gonna l-leave marks,” you whined, your defiance falling short as you arched into him.

“We should stop,” he mumbles between open mouthed kisses.

You both knew you should, but neither of you make an effort to move.

A sudden knock on the door makes you both freeze.

"Y/N? Jeongin?" It's Chan's voice. "Everything okay in there? Movie's almost over."

Removing himself from your neck, Jeongin clears his throat. "We're fine, hyung. Y/N just felt a little dizzy. We'll be out in a minute."

"Okay," Chan replies, though you can hear the question in his tone. "We're thinking of ordering food after."

Footsteps retreat down the hallway, and you both release the breath you've been holding.

Jeongin's forehead drops to yours, a small laugh escaping him. "That was close."

"Yeah," you let out breathy laugh. "We should get back."

He nods, stepping back reluctantly, but not before pressing one more lingering kiss to your lips. "This isn't over yet," he promises, his voice low with intention.

As you straighten your clothes and Jeongin attempts to fix his hair, you catch his eye in the mirror. The boy who was just your best friend yesterday now looks at you with an intensity that makes your knees weak.

"Ready?" he asks, hand on the doorknob.

You nod, knowing that while you're about to return to a room full of his members and pretend nothing has changed, everything has. The line you crossed yesterday isn't just crossed—it's been erased entirely, replaced by something new and thrilling and completely uncharted.

As Jeongin opens the door, his hand finds yours for just a moment, giving it a squeeze before letting go. It's a promise of what's to come, once you're alone again.

And suddenly, you can't wait for this movie night to end.

#jeongin #jeongin x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #jeongin fluff #jeongin smut #yang jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin angst

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