#there is always something running out and like let me tell you i already answer business emails while eating

[marauroon]

i heard you're taking in requests? 👁👁

marauders x forgetful reader?? like misplaces a book or an article of clothing?

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭-𝐦𝐞-𝐧𝐨𝐭 (𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲.𝐦)

you can always count on your boys to make sure you don’t forget anything in the mornings

poly!marauders x gn!reader | 1.0k | fluff | masterlist.

The scent of fresh coffee drifts through the air, mingling with the warmth of early morning light filtering through the sheer curtains. The flat is quiet in the way that all homes are just after waking—a few soft footsteps, the occasional yawn, the distant hum of the city outside.

James is already up, of course. He’s the only one of the four of you who voluntarily wakes before the sun, somehow chipper even after his morning workout. He moves through the kitchen with practiced ease, filling mugs with coffee and humming under his breath.

You’re not quite as functional.

“C’mon, love, up and at ‘em,” Remus murmurs beside you, his voice still thick with sleep. His hand smooths over your shoulder, gentle but insistent. “Don’t want to be late,”

You groan, burying your face in your pillow. It’s far too early for this. “Five more minutes—”

“You said that ten minutes ago,”

Remus chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple before sliding out of bed himself. Without the warmth of him beside you, the sheets feel colder, and you reluctantly peek an eye open.

Across the room, Sirius is sprawled in the other bed, his face half-buried in his pillow, dark hair a tangled mess. One arm is slung over his head, the other dangling off the side of the bed. Completely dead to the world.

“Is he—?” you start, voice still rough with sleep.

“Alive? Yeah,” Remus answers, tugging on a jumper.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes as you finally push yourself up. The moment you do, the morning chill nips at your bare arms, and you shiver. “Why is it so cold?”

“Because it’s February,” Remus says, glancing over at you with a knowing look. “You should probably wear a coat today,”

Right. That makes sense.

You finally manage to swing your legs out of bed, the floor cool against your bare feet. Remus watches, his expression teetering between fondness and exasperation as you shuffle toward the wardrobe, half-aware of what you’re doing.

It’s a struggle, pulling on clothes when you’re still mostly asleep, but you manage, albeit sluggishly.

By the time you make it to the kitchen, James is there, dressed in his usual workout gear, his hair damp with sweat from his run. He grins when he sees you, already holding out a steaming mug.

“Morning, love,” he says, pressing the warm ceramic into your hands. “You look like you need this,”

You take the coffee with a grateful hum, cupping it close to your chest. “You’re a lifesaver, Babe,”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” He winks before turning his attention to the rest of the kitchen, setting out breakfast with a practiced ease.

The sound of footsteps shuffling down the hall signals Sirius’s arrival. He stumbles into the kitchen, still half-asleep, hair sticking up in a dozen directions. He’s wearing one of James’s hoodies—one that’s far too big on him—and a pair of boxers, looking as if he’s barely conscious.

James hands him a mug without a word.

Sirius takes it, lifting it to his lips without even opening his eyes. “‘M not awake,” he mutters, voice hoarse.

“You don’t say,” Remus deadpans, leaning against the counter with his own cup of tea.

Sirius finally cracks an eye open, fixing Remus with a sleepy glare. “Shut up, Moony,”

James laughs, ruffling Sirius’s already-messy hair before turning to you. “You’re gonna need an umbrella today,” he says, nodding toward the window. “It’s supposed to rain,”

Right. That makes sense too.

You take another sip of coffee, letting the warmth settle in your bones, willing yourself to wake up properly. The flat hums with quiet, domestic ease—James moving about the kitchen, Remus flipping through the newspaper, Sirius slowly coming back to life with every sip of his drink.

It’s mornings like this that make you feel most at home, wrapped in the easy comfort of them.

It’s not until you’re gathering your things that the problems start.

“Where’s my bag?” you ask, scanning the sofa. It’s not there.

Remus sighs from the doorway. “You left it in the bedroom,”

Right. That makes sense.

You retrieve it quickly, only for James to call after you as you reach for your shoes. “Love, you’re not seriously going out without a coat, are you?”

You blink, looking down at yourself. You have a jumper on. That should be enough, right?

Remus is already holding out your coat, his expression patient.

You huff, taking it. “I was getting to it,”

“Mhm,” James hums, clearly unconvinced.

You pull the coat on, grabbing your bag before heading toward the door. Just as you reach for the handle, Sirius’s voice stops you.

“Oi, you forgetting something?”

You pause, frowning.

Sirius lifts an eyebrow, taking another slow sip of his coffee before nodding toward the table. Your keys.

Right. Of course.

You mumble a thanks, grabbing them before finally stepping outside. The cold air nips at your cheeks, and you burrow further into your coat. Remus locks the door behind you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he pockets his own keys.

“Did you pack your lunch?” he asks as you step onto the street.

You freeze.

His sigh is long-suffering.

James laughs behind you. “What would you do without us?”

You roll your eyes, already turning back toward the flat. “Probably starve,” you admit.

They don’t disagree.

[yapperblog]

Tags: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, kinda mean Joost.

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

You walk down a busy street, the path is familiar to you – it leads to the Internet Cafe, where you go to do your personal admin tasks and unwind playing games after a stressful day at work. It is already dark outside, but the sound of rain splattering onto your umbrella and lights of the nearby shops shining from the windows as you walk past are keeping you company.

As you reach your destination, you notice a printed note on the door "Today we are closing for maintenance at 10pm. Come back tomorrow for usual working hours." You sigh, as you usually prefer to stay for longer, the whole point of it being open 24/7.

Familiar clacking of the keyboard, murmur of conversations and laughter of groups of people engaged in a computer game greets you as you walk in. You put away your umbrella and head to the administrator's desk. Your heart starts pounding faster, as it does every time you see him. Joost, who works at the cafe, is sitting at his desk, a usual scowl on his face and a cigarette hanging from his lips, even though there is a No smoking sign. He is the sole reason this place is running as smoothly as it does, he keeps every customer at check. From the first time you came here, you could tell everyone is scared of him due to his mean attitude, but it thrills you – the smudged eyeliner look he has, his style, how he towers over everyone, it all excites you. You haven't talked to him much, he keeps it pretty short with everyone, an uninterested look on his face, so getting a few words from him always seems like a win.

You unbutton your jacket and fix your skirt, which you wore just for him – today it is even shorter than usual. He doesn't talk much, but you can feel his eyes on you, when you wear those skirts. How he rolls his eyes, when you bat your eyes at him asking for help on the computer, even though you know how to fix it yourself, he is annoyed, but never denies your ask for help. It excites you knowing you have some effect on him.

"Hi, 2 hours please." you say as you reach his desk, sliding the exact amount of cash for 2 hours on the computer and internet.

"We close at 10 today." he doesn't look up, takes your money.

"I saw the note." you say and before he can point at what computer is free, you chime in. "I was thinking...do you need any help?"

He stops typing, stares at the screen and then looks up at you. You smile cheerily, "I can help with the maintenance, whatever that is, or I can vacuum. It will be faster together." yet his facial expression doesn't change from the usual bored scowl.

"We are fine." he says and turns back to the computer.

"5th computer is yours for 2 hours" he points at the direction of the desk.

You turn around to walk towards it, not entirely surprised by his answer, but it was worth a try. You say hi to other usual customers you've become friends with. As you take a seat, you look behind your shoulder, catching Joost staring at the exposed skin provided by your short skirt. You can't help but clench your thighs together, hoping he notices how a simple glance from him arouses you, wishing it was him touching you directly.

2 hours go by fast. You throw your head back laughing at something a guy next to you said. He is funny, and has been a good company, you put your hand on his thigh, not meaning anything by it, other than trying to catch yourself as you laugh again leaning forward. On accident your eyes meet Joost, who is watching your hand on the guy's thigh – his scowl angrier than usual, the cigarette letting out smoke as it hangs from his lips.

"It's 10pm. Everyone – out." Joost stands up to announce and walks towards the desks with a trash bag to collect any junk left by the customers.

You start to pack your things, when you feel a hand on your upper arm. It's a guy you met earlier, "I was thinking, maybe you want to grab a drink with me? There is a good bar nearby. If you are not busy."

You are about to reply, when you hear a familiar deep voice coming from behind you. "She is helping here today."

You turn to face Joost. "I thought you said-"

"Yeah. Change of plans. Are you staying or no?"

You look at the guy, who is still waiting for your answer. "Sorry, I can't today."

The last customer leaves – it's just you and Joost now. You stand awkwardly, not really having expected your evening to turn out this way.

"Grab the trash bag, throw out anything that's not supposed to be on the desks. And wipe them down later, cleaning wipes are next to the printer. I will vacuum. The guys should come soon to update the computers." you just stare at him, this must be the most you've heard him talk.

"What?" he asks with raised eyebrows after you don't reply.

"Nothing." you giggle and grab the trash bag. This should be fun.

It is not a big space, so you keep bumping into each other, as he vacuums under the desks, you mutter little sorries, but he keeps at task, seemingly in his own world. His presence in the same room feels electric, now that everyone else is gone, you want his attention more than ever. You bend down and reach forward on the desk as if to pick up the trash at the back of it, your skirt bunching up higher revealing even more skin. You know he notices it, you don't even have to look back to feel his eyes on you. Even a little brush of his arm next to you makes your breath hitch, you wonder if he can tell. Was it jealousy that made him change his mind and let you stay? You want to talk to him, but the constant noise of the vacuum cleaner makes it impossible.

The next time, you intentionally pick a desk to clean right where he is vacuuming. You lean against it and your ass brushes against his hip. He doesn't move away, you wiggle your hips slightly. The noise suddenly stops.

"What are you doing?" he asks. Only the buzz of computers running and your both heavy breathing can be heard in the room. You haven't noticed how worked up he has gotten you just by being close, but seeing how his own chest is rising and falling you can guess it had the same effect on him.

"What do you mean?" you are still in the same position, and he also hasn't moved. He looks down at where your ass meets his hip. The cool metal clasp of his pants feels nice on your skin. You play coy and it thrills you what he will do about it. "I am cleaning the desks as you told me to, am I not?"

He groans and the sound of it makes you grin.

"Well, I think you missed a spot." his voice is lower than usual.

"Huh? Where?"

"Right there." he points at the suspicious stain at the back of the desk. You lean in to reach it, when you feel him move behind you. A pair of warm hands holding your waist, it makes you stop in your tracks, suddenly hot all over.

"Why did you stop? Should I help you?" his crotch is pressed behind you.

"I don't think I see it. I do need some help."

His palm slides from your waist up to your shoulder, down your arm, as he reaches your hand, holding it gently, his chest now pressed against your back. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your throat. The weight of his body on you, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes he smokes makes your head spin. You can't help but arch your back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips.

You hear him huff next to your ear. "Such a pretty girl. Coming here flaunting in your tiny skirts." he speaks quietly and a chill runs down your spine.

"Always the loudest laugh in the room." he continues and moves your hand to wipe down the stain, holding it firmly in his own. "But I can't even bring myself to say anything, because I love the sound of it." he admits. "Don't think I don't notice you."

"Oh, I know you notice." you try to calm your breathing, but fail miserably, it comes out more as a pathetic whimper. He chuckles at how fast he has gotten you wrapped around his finger.

"So you wear it just for me?" he continues moving your hand, his lips ghosting over your neck. "Not these other guys?"

"Only you. I don't need anyone else." you try to turn your head to look at him, but he straightens up and holds the back of your neck.

"Fuck." he groans, you can feel he is getting hard, the rough material of his jeans still pressed against you. You want him to know how wet he got you. "What should I do with you?"

His hand starts trailing from waist down to your thigh, when you hear the door open. He quickly takes a step back from you, turning away. You also stand up from the desk, fixing your hair.

"Hi. We are here for the computer updates?" one of the men says.

Joost goes up to greet them and show around. "Continue cleaning." he calls out to you, when walking past.

After awhile you start to get bored, now that you are not alone, Joost has gone back to ignoring you. The lack of his hands on you makes you feel so lonely, you can still remember the weight and warmth of him pressing you onto the desk, and it is still not enough. He is sitting at his desk, lighting up another cigarette, you watch him flick a lighter, taking a few deep drags filling his lungs with smoke.

You walk towards him. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

He looks around the room, "Honestly.. no. You can go home, you know." there is a hint in his voice that shows he feels bad for keeping you here waiting around for whatever reason. You must have better ways of spending the night rather than this dirty old place.

"I can stay." you reassure him. "I want to help you finish your shift." you trace a nail down his bicep. He looks at your hand, then back up at your face. After his confession of loving the sound of your laugh and calling you a pretty girl you became bolder. His eyes shift to the men still working on the computers, "How long will this take?" he calls out to them.

They shrug, looking at each other. "Like another.. hour or so." one of them replies. Your head drops in defeat, why is it taking so long.

"Sure you don't want to go home?" Joost asks you again.

"I'm sure."

"To help me finish the shift you said?" he laughs. And it makes you stop in your tracks. This is the first time you heard him laugh, what a beautiful sound. You need more of it.

"You are doing it again." he says, his attention back to the computer.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me silently."

"I am fascinated by you." you want to smooth down the messy strands of hair sticking out in the back of his head. But restrict yourself not to push your luck too much.

"You are so weird." he says putting out his cigarette in an ashtray. "If you need something to do, here take the pencils, sharpen them." You sigh and take the pencils and the sharpener.

You are sitting at the opposite side of where the two men are busy working on computers, their chatter can be heard in the room. You have the perfect vision of Joost, from where you sit facing him, conveniently hidden from anyone else's eyes. He keeps checking on you, humming a melody while sharpening the pencils, as if it is the most interesting task in the world. He seems to have gotten back to his previous uninterested demeanour or just tries to act this way around others. You wave your fingers at him and shoot a smile. He shakes his head at you and is about to turn back to the computer, when you uncross your legs, slowly pushing them apart just for his viewing pleasure, you trace a pencil from your upper thigh closer to your skirt, raising it higher and higher, revealing the side of your panties. You look into his eyes, the bright blue irises almost invisible at this point, how aroused he is.

"We are done." the man stands up and starts to pack up their bags. Joost all but jumps out of his seat. "Thank you guys." and starts to walk them out of the door.

The door closes, the silence surrounding you both again. The anticipation is killing you, you tentatively stand up and head in his direction.

"I sharpened the pencils." you say showing him the sharp ends.

"Good." he takes the pencils, placing them on a nearby desk.

His back is turned to you, you take an opportunity to glide your hands along his back muscles. He doesn't scold you, or move away, so you continue working your hands up to his shoulders, down his arms. "You seem so tense."

You don't have time to react, he moves so quick pinning you to a desk behind you. The backs of your legs pressed against it, he is mere inches away from you, holding both your wrists in one hand. Joost leans his face down toward yours, his hand sliding down to your neck as he rests it there. His eyes dart between your soft lips and eyes.

"You really wanna get fucked here? Want me to pause my work for a needy slut?" He growls lowly, keeping a firm grip on your neck as he brings his face close to yours, his other hand holding your waist. The sudden change makes your head spin as you smile and look up at him through your lashes. You are finally getting exactly what you wanted. "Yes, please." your smile grows with your arousal as you keep your lidded eyes on his handsome face, plastered with frustration.

You wait for his next move, smiling innocently at him, even though there is not a single innocent thought in your head right now. "I want you, Joost." you say into his ear. He leans into your neck, his lips and moustache ghosting over the sensitive skin. You think he might kiss you, but he licks a stripe on your neck, it makes you moan louder than you anticipated and suddenly he turns you around. His hand pressing down on the back of your neck pushing you into the desk.

"I can give you what you want." he presses his crotch against you. It makes you gasp, you can feel he is big, it excites you to no end, just like the sound of the metal clacking, in the peripheral of your position you can see him undoing his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection. You were right, he is big – it will be a stretch, but so pleasurable, you are ready for anything he will give you. He wraps his hand around his dick, the tip already dripping pre-cum.

"You want this as bad as I do, don't you?" you ask, wiggling your ass at him.

He just groans in response, still working on his dick, looking down at you. In a swift motion, he flips your skirt up, exposing your panties to him.

"If you wanna pretend you're all angry with me you can, I always liked watching you get angry at other customers." you tease, feeling a new wave of arousal wash over you when you feel his eyes on you.

"Hurry up." you press yourself further into him.

He takes a hold of your hips, taking off your panties in a swift motion and slides his thumb down to your clit, rubbing slow teasing circles over it, effectively shutting you up. The hand he has on the back of your neck tightens against you as he watches your mouth open in a small o, your eyes rolling back in your head. "So fucking easy, I touch you a little and you behave," Joost says, his cock dripping pre-cum against your ass as he throbs watching your face contort from pleasure.

"I am not easy." you try to argue.

"No?" he speeds up his movements on your clit, the wet sound filling the room. "Look at you. I have barely touched you and you are already dripping wet." his fingers move to your hole, he dips one finger in, soon after the second finger follows.

You try to press your thighs together as he continues sliding his fingers in and out of you, but Joost is having none of that. His large thigh knocks your knees apart, keeping you spread open for him so he has full access to your pussy.

"M-mmmm" You moan, your ass wiggling back against him as you try to escape the intense pleasure he was giving you – or were you trying to get more? You are so lost in pleasure. "I want you inside. Put it in." you try to meet his eyes from your position. "Please."

He looks down at you, slowing down his movements, but not completely. "I don't have any condoms on me, sweetheart."

"That's okay. You can do it raw. I don't mind." you plead. "I am on the pill."

He grew even harder than before, your teary eyes and needy voice fogging his judgement. He spends a few more moments stretching you out on his fingers, listening to your moans, what makes you louder, making sure you are ready for him.

You whined at the loss of his fingers, but the feeling was soon replaced by the fat head of his cock. You reach your hand behind you, wrapping your hand around his cock. "Fuck." he exhales loudly as you move your hand from his head along the shaft. You rub the head up and down your folds, mixing his precum with your juices, making sure his cock was nice and wet before he fucked you. But also to hear more of his sounds, you could get drunk on every sound that leaves his mouth.

"Enough, baby. Or the fun will end far too soon for my liking." he moves your hand away.

"I am glad you are having fun, baby." you tease him at the use of a petname already. You wiggle your hips and hear a groan from him. "And you say I'm easy."

The smile from your lips changes into a moan, as you feel him catching his head against your entrance and pressing against it teasingly before he pulles back, making you whine. "Please."

"Please what?" he asks. You didn't miss the teasing tone in his voice, it was his turn to play with you now. "I need you inside. Please" you begged, pouting against his desk as you tried to look back at him, even though it is hard from your position. Joost releases the back of your neck to grab both of your wrists in one large hand, keeping them restrained against your lower back, as he slides his dick slowly into you. The stretch is there, but it is quickly replaced by pleasure when he starts to move dragging against your walls, there is no resistance at how wet you are.

He speeds up the pace of his hips against you, the slapping echoing louder in the room as he abuses your g-spot with his dick. "What's wrong? Too much?" Joost asks, faux sympathy laced in his voice. You can only moan in response. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He groans.

He reaches down to rub your clit, feeling you clench around him. Your legs are shaking from the intense pleasure flooding your body. Joost's balls slapping harshly against your clit, making your brain turn to mush as he fucks you so deep.

He is getting embarrassingly close to his release, he hasn't gotten laid in awhile and you are making it so hard for him to last. He leans forward, his chest flush against your back as he crushes you with his weight, his hand restraining your wrists being crushed between your bodies, his mouth right against your ear as he says, "So fucking good for me."

Your eyes roll back in your head each time his fat tip brushes against your sweet spot deep inside you. "Would you have said yes to that guy asking you out?" He whispers, his deep voice in your ear sending goosebumps down your spine. His possessiveness makes you feel hot all over.

"Yes." you lie to see his reaction. "I wanted to agree."

"Oh yeah?" his thrusts get harder, both of his hand gripping your hips, moving you to meet his thrusts. "Would you let him fuck you like this?"

Your pussy squeezes tightly around his cock as he fucks you open for him. He keeps his weight against you, his balls slapping against your thighs making lewd noises to echo around the cafe. "Answer me."

"No." you confess. "I would have never gone with him. I already said I only want you."

"Good." he says and your moans increase in frequency, you are squeezing him impossibly tight. "I'm so close" you moan feeling the familiar pleasure spread in your lower stomach. His weight on you, the fact that it is a public place, empty but public nonetheless, his smell all around you, his sharp thrusts inside you make you closer to your peak by the second. "Do it. Cum all over my cock, pretty girl, c'mon." He coos into your ear, his own dick twitching inside you with his impending release as he keeps the same pace up, working you higher and higher to your orgasm.

Your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open in a loud moan. "Yeah, that's it- oh fuck" Joost groans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your moans sound shaky as the rest of your body jolts as it was wracked with your high.

Joost's hips still against your ass as his cock twitches inside you with every rope of cum he shoots deep inside. His balls clench with his cock as he releases inside you, groaning loudly against your ear. You whine back, keeping your thighs pressed together as he rolls his hips against you, letting your walls milk him entirely before he stops moving. "So good." Joost huffs as he comes down from his high, his body crushing yours even more as he relaxed against you from such intense orgasm.

He was still deep inside you and he could already feel how his cum was spilling out around his dick from how much he came. "It is getting hard to breathe..." you whisper against the desk, your cheek being squished into the wood by his body on you. Joost quickly stands up. "Sorry." he groans as he slowly pulls his spent cock out of you.

You hiss as he slides out of you. Your walls clenching around him in instinct, making him wince as your pussy hugs his tip before he slid it fully out of you. He reaches over your body to grab the tissues on the side of his desk, grabbing a couple as he wipes gently against your thighs. He cleans up himself and tucks back into his pants.

He helps you to your feet, you stand on shaky legs, reaching around his shoulders for support. He pulls your panties back up and fixes your skirt.

You can feel his arms wrap around your waist, helping you stand and come back to Earth. You realise you are hugging, he just came inside you, but you are melting at the simple hug.

"Thank you." you say quietly looking up at him from where your head lays on his shoulder.

"Thanking me? For what? Did I fuck you so well?" he asks, looking down at you, tucking a strand behind your ear. Something has changed in him, you can tell, he seems softer.

"For letting me stay." you say. "And yes, you did fuck well. I can still barely stand." you laugh.

He smiles at that, your words boasting his ego. "You can stay any time."

"Any time?" your voice comes out almost a squeak how excited you are.

"We are literally open 24/7." he says after a pause and laughs, you slap his chest lightly and laugh too.

[harrywavycurly]

Absolutely loving killer Harry! I love how protective of us he is and how just caring and in love he is with us. Though has there ever been a time where he was the one where he desperately needed someone or us for comfort? Has he ever been that vulnerable with us?

Hiii lovey!! So I think 100000% Harry has had moments of insecurity and thinks he’s not enough for you and that’s sort of why he needs you to comfort him a bit! So I hope you enjoy this!!💖

Find all things Loving a Killer here✨

CW: Harry is a killer in this series but it’s only mentioned briefly and no details are given in this update about what he’s done.

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia

Summary: Harry has a bad day and just needs you to comfort him a bit✨

It’s rare that Harry lets anyone see him at his lowest when the weight of all the horrible things he’s done rests on his shoulders and he feels as if he doesn’t deserve the happiness he’s found in life, the happiness he has all because of you. You’re the one person who has seen Harry in this state, he doesn’t bother putting up a wall with you because you know him too well and while he does keep things from you, such as what he really does for a living, he is actually very forthcoming with his feelings with you because most of the time it’s just him telling you how much he loves you and how you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. But something he’s learned in his years of being with you and especially in the years he’s been married to you is that it’s just as important for him to share how he’s feeling in the not so great moments as well as the happy ones, it’s what helps you understand him a bit more and get to see his more vulnerable side that he doesn’t share with anyone else.

That’s why having Harry’s head resting in your lap while you’re sat at the edge of the bed with him on his knees between your legs isn’t that shocking, you could tell he was feeling a little down the moment he got home from work a few hours earlier. You run a hand through his hair as he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp making him relax the tiniest bit. He hasn’t said anything to you minus that he loves you but that was as he was getting ready for bed, he’s been silence since then even when he dropped to his knees in front of you while you were putting your lotion on and rested his head in your lap and securely wrapped himself around you and you don’t mind because you know he will talk when he’s ready.

“Can I ask you something?” You look down at him as he mumbles his question into the fabric of your pajama pants.

“You can ask me anything you want.” You tell him as your free hand rests on the top of his shoulder so you can give it a small squeeze.

“Do you think you’ll always love me?” He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this while you have no clue about the horrible things he does and has done in the time you’ve known him but he just needs some reassurance in this very moment so he doesn’t really care how unfair he’s being.

“I know I’ll always love you.” You answer with a smile as you continue running your fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing you could do that would ever make me stop loving you.” Your soft and gentle tone lets him know you mean every word and Harry wants to smile but he can’t because of the guilt he feels knowing that he’s already done plenty of things that would make all the love you have for him fade away and turn into disgust and anger.

“I don’t deserve you.” He says with a sigh as his arms around your middle tighten almost as if he’s afraid that if his hold on you loosens even just the tiniest bit you’ll slip away from him. You feel the corners of your mouth drop at his words, hating that whatever thoughts he’s got swirling around in his mind are making him feel like he’s not good enough. You bring your hand up and place it on his cheek that’s not pressed against your thighs, you softly run your thumb over his cheekbone as your other hand plays with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Well I know you don’t hear this a lot but you’re wrong.” You watch as your words make Harry’s mouth twitch like he’s fighting off a smile. “You deserve me because I deserve you.” You swallow the small lump that’s forming in your throat as you look over at your nightstand that has a photo of you and Harry from your wedding day sitting in a pretty frame next to your lamp.

“No one can love me the way you do. No one can make me feel like I’m the most important person in the whole world the way you do. No one can protect me the way you do. So you saying you don’t deserve me is like you’re trying to tell me I don’t deserve the kind of happiness that I only get when I’m with you.” Harry’s eyes open as soon as he hears you sniffle and you don’t even have time to wipe away the few tears that have escaped before he’s sitting up making your hands fall into your lap while his come up to gently cup the sides of your face, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears for you.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world.” He tells you with as much softness he can muster as he feels his heart begin to crack at the sight of you getting upset because you just want him to know how loved he makes you feel. While he’s glad he makes you feel this way he also hates that a part of him knows the reason he goes so overboard with his love and affection for you is because he thinks maybe if he treats you the best he possibly can you won’t want to leave the moment you find out the monster he really is.

“And I get that when I’m with you.” Harry hates knowing your happiness is tied up in being with him because he knows there’s a small possibility that somewhere down the line he won’t be able to be around anymore, either because a job goes wrong or someone stumbles upon his preferred burial site that holds more than a few skeletons of his. “Is there something wrong that we need to work on? Are you not-”

“No baby there’s nothing wrong.” He says quickly stopping you from asking any other questions because he can’t stand the thought of you thinking you have anything to do with his mood this evening. “I just sometimes think this-this life we’ve made with each other is almost too good to be true and-and I get in my head about how one day you’re going to realize how fucked up I am and you’ll run for the hills.” His thumbs are still softly rubbing over your cheeks as he finally lets you in on the types of things that have been rolling around in his mind lately.

“I already know how fucked up you are Harry.” His eyes stare into yours as you bring your hands up and rest them on top of his. “You wake up before the sun rises to work out. You also prefer cold showers unless I’m joining you and force you to take a hot one. You are so organized I don’t even know where half our stuff even is. And you eat beans on toast. You’re an actual freak.” You explain with a small sniffle while you wrap your hands around his wrists, Harry appreciates your attempt at trying to change the mood of the conversation because he doesn’t know how much longer he can watch tears slip down your face.

“But you love me right?” He asks as he leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll never love anyone the way I love you so don’t think even for a minute that I’ll ever leave you okay?” Harry just nods as you give his wrists a squeeze and that’s when you notice his eyes have gotten a little misty. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure him as you move your hands from his wrist and up to his face while his hands drop to your shoulders.

“Good.” You smile as you feel him lean into your touch. “You mean everything to me you know that right?” You give him a small nod as you hear the emotion in his voice. “I love you.” He says softly as you lean in and rest your forehead against his as a few stray tears roll down his face. “I’m sor-” Harry’s apology is cut off by the feeling of your lips on his in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too.” You mumble against his lips as his hands slip into your hair keeping your face close to his. “You don’t have to apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Harry closes his eyes for a moment as you take your thumbs and wipe away the last of his tears while he take a few seconds to let your words sink in, ignoring the ever present guilt that wants to work its way up his chest and into his throat so he can come clean and just tell you everything he’s done wrong that would make you change your mind and demand an apology and probably a divorce from him.

But Harry decides that while yes he does unspeakable things and hurts people for a living, there’s a reason he walked into the cafe you worked at all those years ago and maybe it was because the universe or whatever it may be knew you were exactly what he needed in his life. He felt lost before he met you, just going through the motions of life with no real purpose until you came along and gave him one. That’s why he will always drop whatever he’s doing if you need him because your happiness is his main priority and it’s the same reason he’d leave and make sure you never saw him again if you ever do decide to be done with him.

He hasn’t ever loved anyone as much as he loves you and as he leans in and places a kiss to your lips he knows you love him just as much when he feels you pull him closer when you think he’s about to pull away, not wanting him to get too far but you have nothing to worry about because Harry isn’t going anywhere. The two of you are it for each other and he feels a sense of relief wash over him as that realization hits him, momentarily putting him at ease.

“You really think I’m a freak because of the beans on toast thing?” He teases once you actually allow him to pull away and you roll your eyes as he places little kisses to the tip of your nose and then both cheeks.

“Yes.” He smiles as you run a hand through his hair. “But you’re my freak.”

“Oh really? And here I was thinking you were my little freak.” He chuckles at the way your cheeks get pink as he leans down and gives you a quick peck making you smile when he pulls away. It’s a smile that makes Harry’s heart want to burst because it’s the smile you give him when he can tell you’re truly happy and that’s all Harry wants, he just wants to be able to make you smile like that for as long as he can.

[cloudyluun]

Office Hours (p.3) | professor!harry

Summary: The morning after brings new complications as boundaries are tested, feelings deepen, and secrecy becomes harder to maintain. As the reality of their forbidden relationship sets in, tensions rise—both in and out of the classroom. When an unexpected encounter at the university forces them to confront the risks they’re taking, you’re left wondering if desire is worth the cost.

A/N: Back with part 3 of Office Hours! Thank you so much for all the love on the last chapter—your support means everything to me. This part raises the stakes even higher, blending tension, passion, and the ever-growing risk of their dangerous connection. Let me know your thoughts, and as always, if you want to be on the taglist, click here!

Word Count: 3,7k

Warnings: Smut (morning-after sex, desk sex, possessiveness, power dynamic, praise kink, slight jealousy), forbidden romance, angst, emotional tension, secrecy.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The morning light filters through the blinds, soft and golden, casting long streaks across the room. The warmth of the sheets, the steady rise and fall of the chest beneath your cheek, the scent of skin and faded cologne—it’s all grounding and disorienting at once. For a moment, reality is distant, replaced by the slow hum of contentment curling through your limbs.

Then, it settles in. Where you are. Who you’re with. What happened last night.

Your breath hitches as you shift slightly, your bare legs tangling further with his. The movement stirs him, and before you can pull away, a strong arm tightens around your waist, holding you in place. A deep sigh rumbles through his chest, followed by the husky rasp of his voice against your temple.

“Morning, love.”

Your body betrays you before your mind can catch up, warmth blooming across your skin at the endearment, at the way his lips brush lazily against your hair. You tilt your head just enough to meet his gaze, and the tenderness there makes your chest tighten. This is dangerous. This is something you shouldn’t be allowing yourself to enjoy.

But in this moment, wrapped up in him, it’s impossible to care.

“Morning,” you whisper, voice laced with sleep.

His fingers trace slow circles against your back, absentminded and soothing. “Sleep well?”

You nod, but the words stay lodged in your throat. How are you supposed to respond when last night is still imprinted on your skin, when your body still remembers the way he held you, touched you, ruined you in ways you didn’t know you needed?

He watches you closely, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes before he shifts, rolling onto his side so you’re facing each other. A hand tucks beneath his head, the other still resting low on your back. The intimacy of it all is overwhelming, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

“What happens now?” you ask softly, barely brave enough to voice the thought.

His jaw tightens slightly, like he’s considering his words carefully. “We figure it out.”

It’s not a real answer, but it’s something.

The silence stretches, filled only by the rustling of sheets and the quiet rhythm of your breaths. Then, Harry exhales sharply, rolling onto his back and running a hand through his hair. “You hungry?”

The shift in conversation is abrupt, but not unwelcome. You nod, and that’s all it takes for him to slide out of bed, stretching his arms above his head before reaching for a pair of sweatpants. Your gaze flickers downward, betraying you, and he smirks when he catches you staring.

“Like what you see?”

You huff, throwing a pillow at him. He dodges it with ease, laughing as he pulls the sweats over his hips. “Come on, I make a mean omelet.”

You hesitate, suddenly aware of your lack of clothing. Before you can ask, he’s already tossing a hoodie your way—his hoodie, soft and oversized. The sight of you in it does something to him, you can tell by the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his fingers flex at his sides before he clenches them into fists.

“Looks better on you,” he mutters, almost to himself, before turning toward the kitchen.

Breakfast is… oddly normal. Domestic. The kind of thing couples do on lazy Sunday mornings. He stands at the stove, spatula in hand, while you sit on the counter, legs swinging idly. The scent of coffee fills the air, mingling with the warmth of the kitchen and the quiet hum of conversation. It’s easy, natural, like slipping into a life you shouldn’t be indulging in.

And yet, as he slides a plate in front of you, his fingers brushing yours, you can’t help but think—

Maybe this doesn’t have to end.

After breakfast, the sight of you in his hoodie is too much Harry pulls you onto his lap at the kitchen table. His hands settle on your thighs, fingers tracing slow, teasing circles against your bare skin beneath the fabric. The breath you take is sharp, shaky, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Do you know how fucking good you looked last night?” he murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your hands brace against his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as his grip tightens around your waist. Heat coils low in your stomach, spreading like wildfire when he tilts his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the column of your throat.

“Harry,” you whisper, a soft plea that only seems to spur him on.

He shifts, standing effortlessly with you wrapped around him, your legs locking around his waist. He walks you back until your spine meets the cool edge of the kitchen counter, his body pressing flush against yours. His mouth moves hungrily against your jaw, your pulse, your lips, until you’re gasping his name like a prayer.

His hands slide beneath the hem of his hoodie, pushing it up and over your head, baring you completely to him. His gaze darkens, eyes raking over you like you’re something to be worshipped. “So fucking perfect for me, love.”

There’s nothing slow about it—he tugs his sweats low enough to free himself, lifting you onto the counter in the same breath. He doesn’t waste time, sliding inside you in one slow, deep thrust that has you arching into him, your fingers clutching his biceps.

His pace is steady but firm, each thrust pulling a broken moan from your lips. His hands grip your waist, holding you in place as he fills you over and over, his breath hot against your ear.

“Mine,” he mutters, his fingers digging into your skin. “You’re fucking mine.”

You can’t do anything but nod, whimpering as his lips claim yours again, swallowing every sound you make. The tension builds too fast, too overwhelming, and when he presses his forehead to yours, whispering how good you feel, how perfect you are, you shatter around him.

He follows moments later, his release sending another wave of pleasure through you as he buries himself to the hilt, groaning into your mouth. He doesn’t pull out immediately, keeping you close, his arms caging you against him as you both come down from the high.

His lips ghost over your temple, his breathing still uneven. “Fuck, love…”

Reality crashes down like a cold wave. The warmth of the morning, the intimacy, the way his arms still cage you against him—it all feels like a fragile illusion as your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall.

“Shit,” you breathe, jolting upright. “I’m late.”

Harry barely has time to react before you’re scrambling off the counter, your legs still wobbly as you rush to find your clothes. He watches, half amused, half conflicted, leaning against the counter as you pull his hoodie back over your head, smoothing the fabric down over your thighs.

“You could just stay,” he offers, voice laced with something unreadable.

You shoot him a look. “And let everyone figure out exactly where I was all night? Not happening.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but there’s something else in his expression, something quieter. As you move past him, he catches your wrist, thumb brushing over your pulse. The air shifts.

“Be careful,” he murmurs, his gaze searching yours.

Your breath catches, but you nod, squeezing his hand briefly before pulling away.

The ride to campus is filled with static energy, your nerves thrumming beneath your skin. Every shadow feels like a threat, every passing glance a question you don’t want to answer. Your mind replays the morning in his apartment, the heat of his body against yours, the way he called you his. The thought sends another rush of adrenaline through you, but not in the way it did before.

What if someone notices? What if they already know?

By the time you step into the lecture hall, your heart is pounding for all the wrong reasons. Olivia spots you immediately, her eyes narrowing as she leans in, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.

“Well, well,” she teases, crossing her arms. “Someone had a busy night.”

You force a casual laugh, dropping into the seat beside her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She raises a brow. “Oh, please. You disappeared, didn’t answer my texts, and now you’re showing up late looking—” Her eyes flick over you, taking in the oversized hoodie, the flushed cheeks, the slight daze still lingering in your expression. “—thoroughly wrecked.”

Your stomach flips. You roll your eyes, nudging her with your elbow. “I was working on my essay. You know, the thing that’s actually due today?”

“Mhm,” she hums, unconvinced, but thankfully, she doesn’t push.

As class begins, you try to focus, but your mind keeps drifting—back to the morning, back to the way Harry looked at you when he told you to be careful.

Like he already knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

The rest of the day drags, every moment stretched thin with tension. Your last class is with Harry, and by the time you step into the lecture hall, exhaustion clings to you. He’s already there, sitting at his desk, composed and unreadable as ever. There’s no flicker of recognition, no lingering glance to betray what had happened that morning. Just Professor Styles, collected and indifferent.

You take your usual seat, trying not to let disappointment sink too deep.

The class passes in a blur. You take notes, nod at the appropriate moments, but your focus splinters under the weight of unspoken words. It isn’t until after class, when you linger to gather your things, that something shifts.

Another professor, someone you vaguely recognize from the faculty meetings you’ve overheard Harry mention, approaches. He’s older, charming in an effortless way, and the way he leans in slightly as he speaks sends a spark of unease through you.

“So,” he says, his voice warm, easy, “how’s the semester treating you?”

You offer a polite smile. “Busy, but good.”

“Styles keeping you on your toes?” he teases, chuckling. “He has a reputation for being… demanding.”

Your pulse jumps, but you force a laugh. “Something like that.”

The professor’s smile lingers, his gaze flicking over you in a way that feels a little too knowing. “Well, if you ever need a second opinion on anything—academic or otherwise—my office is always open.”

You don’t get the chance to respond.

From across the room, a sharp click echoes, Harry’s pen snapping between his fingers. Your breath catches as you glance toward his desk. His jaw is tight, his knuckles white where they grip the remnants of the pen. His expression is carefully blank, but you can see the storm brewing in his eyes.

The moment the other professor steps away, you grab your bag, prepared to make a quick exit, but Harry’s voice cuts through the air.

“A word, please.”

It’s not a request.

The classroom is nearly empty now, only a few stragglers lingering near the exit. You swallow hard, nodding once before trailing after him. His office door shuts with a firm click, the silence between you stretching thick and taut.

He leans against the desk, arms crossed, studying you with a gaze so intense it makes your skin prickle. “Didn’t realize you were so friendly with Dr. Calloway.”

Your brows furrow. “I wouldn’t call it friendly. He was just—”

“Flirting,” Harry interjects, his voice dangerously low.

You blink. “I…he was just being nice.”

Harry exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t know him like I do.”

Something in his tone makes you hesitate. “Harry, it was nothing.”

His jaw tenses. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Your heart pounds as he pushes off the desk, closing the space between you. His hands come to rest on your hips, fingers pressing in just enough to make you shiver.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice rough with possession. His hands slide down, gripping your waist as he presses you against the desk. “Don’t forget that.”

Your breath stutters as you place your hands on his chest. “I won’t. But you can’t—”

His lips crash against yours before you can finish, stealing whatever protest you were about to make. It’s all-consuming, the heat between you reigniting in an instant. He kisses you like he’s proving a point, like he’s branding the words onto your skin.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, breath ragged. “I don’t share.”

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “Jealousy looks good on you.”

His fingers flex against your hips, and his next kiss is slower, more deliberate. “Careful, love. You might enjoy it too much.”

Something in the way he says it makes your stomach twist, heat pooling low as his lips move to your jaw, your throat. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

The tension is unbearable, the weight of unsaid words pressing down on both of you. He exhales sharply against your skin before stepping back, his gaze dark and heavy.

“Get on the desk.”

You don’t hesitate. Papers scatter as he lifts you onto the polished wood, stepping between your thighs, hands sliding beneath your skirt to grip your thighs. His kisses grow hungrier, teeth grazing your bottom lip, his control unraveling by the second.

“This is a bad idea,” you murmur, even as you tilt your head to give him better access.

“The worst,” he agrees, dragging his mouth down your throat. “But I don’t care.”

Neither do you.

His hands push your skirt higher, fingers sliding beneath the waistband of your underwear, yanking them down in one swift movement. Your breath catches as he spreads your thighs wider, his touch firm, possessive.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, voice thick with desire. “Did that little conversation out there get you worked up?”

You don’t answer—can’t answer—because he’s already pushing inside you, stretching you open with a single, deliberate thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, Harry—”

He grips your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him as he sets a punishing pace, the edge of the desk digging into your skin. The risk of getting caught only fuels the fire burning between you, the sharp slap of skin against skin filling the room.

His hand finds the back of your neck, pressing you down against the desk, his body crowding yours as he thrusts harder, deeper.

“So fucking reckless,” he growls, his voice strained with effort, with need. “Letting me have you here, like this.”

You whimper, nails clawing at the desk as pleasure coils tight in your stomach.

“Anyone could walk in,” he continues, his grip tightening. “They could hear you, see how fucking good you take me.”

The thought sends you spiraling, your release barreling toward you at a dizzying pace. Harry feels it, too, he reaches between you, his fingers finding your clit, circling in time with his thrusts.

“Come for me,” he demands, and it’s not a request.

You shatter around him, a strangled moan escaping your lips as pleasure crashes through you. He follows seconds later, burying himself deep with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your hips as he spills inside you.

The only sound left in the room is your uneven breathing, the ticking of the clock on the wall reminding you both of the risk you just took.

Harry presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder before pulling back, his hands smoothing over your thighs, as if grounding himself.

“This,” you whisper, still breathless. “It’s dangerous.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze dark, unreadable. “I know.”

The risk is undeniable. But neither of you are willing to stop.

Just as you fix your clothes, smoothing down your skirt with shaky hands, a sharp knock at the door shatters the silence.

Your heart stops.

Harry’s head snaps up, his body instantly rigid, eyes flickering between you and the door. His jaw tightens, the afterglow of your moment already dissolving into something else entirely—urgency, fear, the sharp sting of reality crashing back in.

Another knock, firmer this time.

“Professor Styles?” A voice. Female. Familiar.

Harry doesn’t hesitate. He steps forward, grasping your wrist with a grip just shy of bruising, his voice low and urgent. “You need to go. Now.”

Your pulse spikes. “Who—”

He doesn’t let you finish. He moves swiftly, guiding you toward the side door that leads to the back hallway. His fingers press into your lower back as he all but pushes you through, barely giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Don’t look back,” he murmurs, and then the door is closing behind you, sealing you off from him, from whatever is about to unfold on the other side.

You don’t wait around to see who’s waiting for him. You can’t. Your legs carry you forward on autopilot, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts as you weave through the empty corridor, toward the nearest exit.

Your skin is still burning from his touch.

The cold air outside does little to ground you. Your mind is racing, spiraling. The thrill of what just happened still lingers in your veins, but beneath it, something else begins to creep in.

Doubt.

Fear.

Paranoia.

Who was at that door? How much had they heard? How much did they know?

You shove the thoughts aside and keep walking, forcing your breathing to slow, forcing yourself to look normal, to act normal. But your fingers are trembling as you pull out your phone, as you glance at your reflection in the dark screen—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, eyes that look far too wild.

You can still feel him.

By the time you make it back to your apartment, your stomach is in knots. Olivia is there, sprawled on the couch, but you barely register her presence as you drop your bag onto the floor and collapse onto your bed, your head spinning.

Your phone buzzes.

You jolt, heart hammering as you grab it.

A message.

From him.

Harry: We need to talk. This is getting dangerous.

You stare at the screen, a thousand thoughts colliding in your mind at once.

Dangerous.

Your stomach twists. He’s right. This was never going to be simple, never going to be easy. But now it feels like something else entirely.

Something you might not be able to control.

Something that might destroy you both.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ��️‍🔥

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[crashdevlin]

High Walls in Gotham

Author’s Note: I'm so happy to be back!

Summary: Jason has known Y/n since they were running together on the streets. Now that they’re in their 20s, Jason is Red Hood cleaning up the streets of Gotham with bullets and blood, and Y/n is White Witch, the criminal elite’s favorite fence and Black Mask’s favorite advisor. With their places in Gotham so opposed, does their past even matter?

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word count: 3438

Story Warnings: a bit of angst and mutual pining.

~~~

When rain falls in Gotham, it turns an already-dark city into a cloud of ink-colored oil slick. The city doesn’t care, though. It keeps going through the rain. Businessmen do their business, taxis run their fares, criminals plot their crimes, and heroes foil them.

Jason Todd continues through the rain, too. Three parts hero, two parts criminal, and one part little boy who never really grew up.

My security system goes off to inform me that I have a visitor approaching the door of the apartment. A blur of black and red passes the camera as I pull up the video on my phone. I get to my door and open it, just as he raises his hand to knock. It takes him by surprise and gives me a chance to get a good look at him. Red hood and matching mask, brown fatigue pants, black and red boots. His eyes are grey today.

He covers his shock quickly and pushes into my living room. “Shipment of guns coming in. Big one. I want details.”

“Please, come in, Jason. Would you like anything? A drink or perhaps a lesson in manners?” I greet him as I shut the door.

“Save it. I want names, dates, times. Now,” he demands, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at me.

“Come on. If I knew something, I’d tell you. Sounds like you know more than I do.”

His eyes narrow further and I can tell he’s wishing he could intimidate me like he does other criminals. Well, it’s just too bad for him that I know him too well. “Quit playing dumb, Y/n. You get your fingers into any pie you can reach in this city. Last time an arms shipment came through, you were the one who told me about it.”

“Exactly.” I cross my arms and look bored. “I knew something, I told you. This time I don’t know anything, so that is why I have nothing to tell you.”

Jason glares more before sighing. “Fine. Let’s play a game. You answer a question honestly, and I’ll leave.”

I smile and nod. “Sure.”

“Who are you working for right now? And don’t even try that self-employed bullshit. You’re always in someone’s pocket.”

I lick my lips and take a breath. “Black Mask,” I respond.

“Black Mask again, huh? Figures. He’s the only one crazy enough to work with you repeatedly without killing you. ‘Kay, next question.”

I put my hand on my chest in mock offense. “Are you trying to wound me, Jason?” I nod. “All right, then. Next question.”

“You dating him?”

“What?”

“Dating, fucking, whatever.”

I laugh out loud, the sound echoing through my suite. “Are you serious, right now? I’d never let Roman touch me! He’s rich but he’s a fucking psycho. I have standards!”

“So you aren’t protecting him because you’re screwing him. So why are you protecting him?”

“I’m not protecting him. Black Mask doesn’t need me to protect him.” I shake my head. “I don’t know about any shipment of guns. I swear.”

He stares at me, examining my face for any trace of deception. He sighs when he doesn’t find any. “Something’s not right. I know guns are coming in. I’ve heard a dozen people whispering about it, but no one knows anything.”

“Have you asked your former mentor? Or any of the other birdies?” I ask, taking a step closer to him.

He tenses at the mention of his former family, jaw tight and anger in his posture. “Damn it. You think they might know something?”

“I learned a long time ago that Batman and Robin know what’s going on in this city. Much to chagrin.”

“Yeah. Which means they know about you working for Black Mask. They know you’re working with any criminal who throws money at you.”

I blink at him a few times before smiling tightly. “I’m not a stripper; no one throws money at me.” I step toward my kitchen, turning my back so he won’t see my emotions on my face. “And I’m a small fry. If they know about me, I’m likely listed as ‘nameless fence slash goon number 3’.”

I grab a beer from my fridge and distract myself with opening and drinking it. “You think I believe you’re just a fence?” he challenges, following me into the kitchen. “I know you better than that.”

“What, exactly, do you think I do, then, Jason?”

“Black Mask keeps you around for a reason, Y/n. If you’re not fucking him, you’re advising him, and if you’re advising him…” He grabs my shoulders and forces me to face him. “Then you’re protecting him, and if you’re protecting him, you’re lying to me.”

“I protect myself and those I care about. Roman doesn’t qualify,” I respond, glaring slightly as I look up into his eyes. “Now, I answered your questions. I’m done with your game. You can leave now.”

I move away from him, intent to show him the door, but he grabs my elbow to stop me. “I’m not-” he starts, but I’m done with our conversation. I spin back, gun from my back holster pressed against his temple.

“Let’s not,” I say coldly.

He looks at the gun for a moment. “You’re not left-handed. Think you could actually-”

“Safety’s already off and I doubt accuracy would matter much at this range. Would you like to meet God again?”

I’d never pull the trigger but he doesn’t know that. He puts his hands up and steps back. “Fine. I’ll talk to Dick, see if he knows anything.”

“Good idea,” I say as he walks toward the door.

“Oh, and, uh,” he turns at the door and smirks at me. “Your safety is on.”

I roll my eyes as he leaves. Of course the safety was on. I wouldn’t actually clock him with a loaded gun if the safety wasn’t safe. I sigh and take a seat on my sofa. I hate that I love that idiot. As terrible as it seems, I would’ve been better off emotionally if he had just stayed dead.

~~~

I spend a lot of time at the Black Mask Club. Roman likes having me around…and I like people-watching. There’s so much information that can be gleaned from watching interactions. I watch a couple clowns walk in, followed by the pigtail-wearing blond. Joker doesn’t follow, but the fact that his goons are with her says that Harley and Joker are back together. Wonderful. I approach and offer a smile to the clowns before Harley turns to me.

“White Witch! It’s been forever!” She wraps her arms around me and I return the gesture. She shoos away the goons and offers me a seat next to her at the bar. “Yer a fixture here lately, ain’ ya?

“Even when I’m not on his payroll, it’s a good idea to keep tabs on what Roman’s up to.” I throw a look at the goons. “I see you’re back with Facepaint.”

She shrugs. “Aw, Mr. J ain’t so bad. He bought me this bracelet to apologize.” She shows off a diamond tennis bracelet I recognize as having been stolen a week ago.

“You know I don’t judge, Harley, but-”

“Yeah, ya do,” she argues. “Yer still salty that my puddin’ put down your puddin’.”

I smile politely. “I do not now, nor have I ever had, a ‘puddin’. I’m just saying…deserve better.”

“Does she now?” A higher pitched manic voice behind me says. I have to work to keep the smile on my face as the clown joins Harley at the bar. “I give Harley everything she could ever ask for.”

“Of course! A happier woman, I’ve never seen,” I force out, keeping the smile despite the fact that I want to take a crowbar to Joker’s stupid, smiling face. “You two have a good night. Enjoy your drinks.” I turn away and walk toward Roman in the VIP.

“What crawled up her stovepipe and died?” Joker asks.

“She’s just lonely. Don’t worry ‘bout her.” At least Harley has the decency to keep her observations about me and Jason to herself. The last thing I need is for that clown monster to know I have a soft spot worth exploiting.

“Fuckin’ clown,” Roman says as I step up into the VIP area.

“I didn’t know you had a problem with Joker,” I say as I grab a glass of wine and take a seat beside him.

“Everyone with half a mind has a problem with that crazy fuck. He’s unpredictable.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Roman.”

“Has nothing to do with me bankrolling your lifestyle, then?” he jokes.

“Absolutely not,” I respond with a smirk. I take a sip of wine and settle in for the night, trying to ignore the clowns. Joker doesn’t deserve to be sitting in a bar with a beautiful woman at his side. He doesn’t deserve the cushy cell in Arkham that he’ll be in next time Batman takes him off the streets. Joker deserves an unmarked grave in a pauper’s graveyard. Of course, Batman would never put him down. He’d never do the right thing. He’d only do what he thought was right.

Jackass.

~~~

I leave the Black Mask Club at about 2 in the morning. I wave off the bodyguards that want to walk me to my car. I don’t need them. I sigh when I see Red Hood leaning against my car door. “Two nights in a row. You’re gonna make me think you’re sweet on me, Hood.”

“So I was thinking about our talk, ya know, before you pulled your gun on me,” he starts, ignoring my comment as he stands up straight. “You said you protect the ones you care about. I didn’t think there was anyone you cared about besides yourself.”

I nod, faking a thoughtful expression. “You’re right. You know me so well. I do only care for myself.”

“No, I’m thinking I was wrong, actually. I think there must be someone you actually give a fuck about.”

I push past him to open my car door but he puts his hand on the door to prevent me from moving. I push down my anger and look up at him. “Years ago, there was a dumbass boy I gave a fuck about, but he died about a decade ago.” I take a deep breath and look up into the eyes of his mask.

His posture changes but I can’t see expression because of that fucking mask. “Sorry. I was just-”

I roll my eyes, happy that it went over his head. “You were just pushing my buttons.”

“I was teasing. I didn’t think… what happened?” he asks, stepping back to let me open my door.

“Gotham happened,” I respond before getting in my car and turning it on. He steps back and I peel out of the parking lot.

I wish he would leave me the fuck alone sometimes. I had to see him dead already. I had to mourn him already. I can’t see him die again, not for this city and not for the goddamn Bat.

I wish I really was as cold and heartless as people think I am.

~~~

“Think we got one of ‘em to take the bait,” Roman says when I enter his office in the morning. I offer him a cup of coffee and take a seat in the armchair in front of his desk.

“Yeah? Did you get the Bat to bite?”

“No. Un-fucking-fortunately, I think it’s the other one…not the kid, the other bird.”

“Nightwing? Used to be Robin?” I ask, my stomach dropping a bit.

“Yeah. These idiot ‘heroes’ and their stupid fuckin’ names,” Roman sneers.

“Like Black Mask and White Witch and Poison Ivy and fuckin’ Calendar Man?” I snap, my heart racing with fear. Jason went to Dick. Dick is going to lead Jay into a trap.

“You got a fuckin’ problem, bitch?” Roman growls, leaning forward.

I lick my lips and shake my head. “Ya know, I think I might be PMSing. You need me to stick around or can I go home?”

“Yeah, get the fuck out of here. Don’t need your fucking attitude,” he dismisses. I stand and walk out of his office, forcing myself to walk to avoid his attention, but I want to run. I need to warn Jason. Now.

I race to Jason’s apartment, swerving through cars and going 80 in a 45. I screech to a stop, easily parking in front of the building and running inside. I slam my fist into the wood of his door. I wait a few seconds then hit the door again. Jason finally opens the door and I push into his apartment. He looks over at me, exhaustion on his face. He runs his hand through his hair as he closes his door.

“I hope you have a good reason to wake me up when-”

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” I interrupt. His eyes go wide at my tone. “Do not go to the docks tonight.”

His eyebrows come together in confusion. “How do- Wait.” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me. “You lied to me. You do know about the guns.”

“Of course I do; it’s my job to know this shit. The point was for you not to know because it’s a fucking trap.” I step closer to him. “Roman was hoping to catch the Bat so he put rumors out in the world about the guns. It’s not for you.”

“What, you were gonna let Black Mask kill-”

“Yes! Let Bruce finally get what’s coming to him, sure! But not you,” I insist. “Not again.”

Jason blinks a few times before his expression softens. “You know I can’t just let those guns into the city.”

“Let someone else take care of it, Jason. Please,” I whisper.

He runs his hand through his hair. “Who? Especially knowing it’s a trap, who can I give it to?”

“Give it to Gordon. Let GCPD actually do their jobs for once. Or tell Batman. Let him know it’s a trap, that way he can prepare, but don’t walk into that shit.”

“Dick and I-”

I grab his shirt and look up into his eyes. “Don’t. Go.”

He looks shocked at the intensity in my expression. “Okay. I’ll…toss it to someone else.”

I sigh in relief and let go of his shirt. “Good.” I move to leave, but his hand wraps around my wrist and I turn back to look at him,. He’s looking down at his ugly carpet, white strands of hair falling into his eyes.

“That dumbass boy from your past that you were talking about… is he…”

I scoff and shake my head a little. Had to know he’d figure it out after this. “Still a dumbass with anger issues despite being murdered years ago? Yeah.”

He closes his eyes for a second. “What if…this dumbass…what if he cared about you, too?”

I take a deep breath as tears threaten my eyes. “Then he’d be a bigger dumbass than I thought ‘cause he’d be clinging to me the way I’ve been clinging to him.”

He takes an audible breath, his fingers tightening around my wrist. “You’re clinging to the real him… the old him. Do you want him back? That him, not the… ghost you’ve been talking to?”

I shake my head, the tears finally welling up. “You’re not a ghost, Jay. You came back…and you’ve been angry, but… anyone who doesn’t understand…they never fucking understood you in the first place,” I say, thinking about Batman admonishing him for becoming the Hood.

He looks over at me, his eyes green and wet with unshed tears. “Do you? Do you understand why I became the Red Hood?”

“Of course.” I discretely wipe my eyes and clear my throat. “You grew up seeing the same thing I did, the true darkness in the heart of Gotham. Then Batman took you from the streets and gave you a purpose more than just surviving. He taught you his morals and gave you a place at his side and that place next to him, it got you killed. And then…”

“And then I came back… broken and changed,” he says, his voice low.

“No. Not broken.” I blink away more tears. “Changed. Of course you changed. You came back different, angry at the way his morals put you in a place to…” I look down, anger filling me. “Joker should never have been allowed to live after the first time he escaped Arkham. Throwing them in jail over and over does fucking nothing. It’s a stupid cycle that Batman perpetuates because he knows that he is nothing if he doesn’t have anyone to fight against. You shouldn’t have had to pay that price for him.”

He looks over at me, shocked by some part of my diatribe. “You…” he starts, his voice cracking.

I lick my lips and take a deep breath to try to regain the composure I usually pride myself on. “When Bruce Way adopted you, I was so jealous. Even when I watched the Boy Wonder beat up my dad’s drug dealer and I heard your voice from under that stupid domino mask… I was happy for you. But when Joker killed you… I wanted to kill Bruce. It was his fault.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “If I’d been older, if I hadn’t been a 15 year old girl with no access to billionaire Bruce Wayne… I would have tried, but I knew I couldn’t get close enough.”

“You still feel that way? After all these years?”

“Never stopped.” I clear my throat and pull my hand away from him. “Anyway.”

“Don’t ‘Anyway’ me. We need to talk about this.”

“What do we have to talk about? This doesn’t change anything. You’re still going to be trying to clean up the seedy underbelly of Gotham…and I’m still going to be stuck in that seedy underbelly. We can’t stop being who we are and we can’t afford to be each other’s weaknesses.”

Jason nods. “I get that but I want…can’t we just talk a bit longer?”

I take a breath and step back. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Tell me something I don’t know about you. Something I missed after I left you behind to go play hero with Bruce.”

I tuck my hair behind my ears and look at his dirty carpet beneath our feet. “I used to dream of moving away somewhere, having a normal life. Used to dream of living that normal life…with that dumbass boy.”

“Yeah? What happened to that dream? What shattered it?” He moves to try and catch my eyes. “Was it the boy? Or because of Batman?”

I look up, smiling tightly. “It was me, actually. I realized that I’m never gonna make it out of Gotham. It was a nice dream though. It’s still kinda my happy place, where I go to rest my mind when the real world gets too harsh.”

“Tell me about the dream life. Where do we live? What do we do?” he asks quietly.

“A little farm in the middle of nowhere. Upstate somewhere, ya know. Just some chickens and goats roaming around. I’d work at the diner in town and you’d do something with your hands…mechanical stuff, maybe. We would have breakfast every morning on the porch and watch the sunset every night.”

Jason’s eyes get misty. “And what about kids? Are there…kids in the dream?”

I smile softly. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just us but sometimes there’s a baby.”

“And we’re…happy? Together on that farm, we’re happy?” he asks, his voice practically a whisper.

“That’s how I know it’s a dream, silly. Gotta be fake if I’m happy.”

“So, you’re saying…” His voice cracks and he clears his throat. “...being happy with me is only possible in your dreams?”

I laugh humorlessly. “You tell me, Jason.”

He runs his hand through his hair. “You know it’s not that simple. We can’t just throw away our responsibilities, our missions. But God, I wish we could.”

I smile sadly and pat his chest. “Exactly. We’re both still here and, well, we aren’t going anywhere…together or otherwise.”

“Dammit. We’re stuck, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” I confirm softly. “But we’re alive. Stay that way for me, Jason. Please.” 

“I can do that…for your…happy place.”

I go to my tiptoes and press my lips to his cheek. “Thank you, my dumbass boy,” I say before pulling open his door and running down the stairs.

[preet-01]

A brocedes fic loosely inspired by Lewis giving Nico's daughters presents and Nico not telling Lewis that he was retiring

I couldn't get the idea out of my head last night so here it is! word count: 1230

Would you give it all up for me? 

The question haunts him. The what-ifs fill his thoughts and dreams. Every word echoes in his ears like clockwork every year as he wraps presents. 

Would you give it all up for me? 

Nico had asked him that when they were teammates, friends, neighbors, rivals, lovers, everything to one another. He had asked him with the resignation of already knowing the answer. 

Once upon a time, Lewis knew that the answer would have been a resounding yes. No hesitation or doubt about it. He would have said yes and pulled Nico into his arms while jokingly chastising him for even thinking that anything could hold higher regard than him, than the love they shared and the life they wanted to create together. 

That, however, was before. It was before they’d become teammates. It was before they’d become the only equal comparisons for one another. It was before they’d become championship rivals. It was before the mind games and media spins. It was before the weight trimming and crashes. 

They hadn’t been in the before when Nico asked. They’d gone through too much, done too much. 

So he had said, “I- I… can’t.” 

He sometimes wonders if Nico knows that his answer has hurt him just as much as it had hurt Nico. He sometimes wonders if Nico knows his choice continues to haunt him as much as Nico’s words do. 

Lewis hadn’t been able to give it up for Nico. Not then. Not after the 2016 championship battle. Not after losing a title and with it the person who was for so many years his everything. 

Nico hadn’t said anything after Lewis said he couldn’t give it all up for him. He had just stood there with tears running down his face and every little bit of hope he’d had shattered. 

“I can’t go out like this,” Lewis had done his best to explain why. He had given every reason under the sun, excuse after excuse for why after winning three championships he couldn’t give it all up for the dreams they’d had as children when only one championship each was more than enough. 

For days, Lewis had thought that Nico understood. Despite everything since 2014, Nico had always known him best. Nico had always known what drove Lewis and why he needed to be the best. Nico had known him in a way that no one else ever had or would — it was why all their clashes and petty remarks hurt more than anything else in the world. 

He had learned about Nico retiring through Toto. There was a group chat — rarely used in 2016 — in which Nico had been removed after Toto sent a farewell message and Valtteri had been added soon after with a welcome message. 

Would you give it all up for me? 

Lewis hadn’t known it at the time but he knew it now. The question had been Nico’s own complicated way of speaking about potentially retiring. And when Lewis said he couldn’t give it all up, Nico had finalized his choice. 

“I can’t keep fighting you, it’s killing me,” Nico had whispered after the prize-giving gala, “and you can’t give up F1.” 

Those days after Abu Dhabi 2016 constantly replay in his head. They constantly make him wonder if one single thing done differently could have changed everything. If saying yes would have kept them as teammates for years to come. If saying yes would have kept Nico by his side and him by Nico’s side regardless of what they decided to do. 

He wonders about it constantly, especially when he wraps presents for Nico’s daughters. No matter how much his team of assistants and friends try to take the task off of his hands, he remains unable to say yes — a common theme it seems when it concerns something related to Nico. 

Tying the last piece of ribbon into a bow, Lewis lets out a sigh. The easiest part is done, but the hardest is yet to come. Soon he’ll have to move all the presents into the usual cart he uses to transport gifts from his apartment to the one that Nico shares with his family — Vivian, his two daughters, and the bunny Lewis had gifted for Christmas the year prior (based on Vivian’s suggestion since the girls and Nico wanted a family pet in the form of a bunny). When all the gifts are on the cart, he’ll have to decide whether he knocks on the door and wait for someone to answer, or leave the presents in front of the door after knocking and send Viv a text that there are presents for the girls. 

Last year Nico hadn’t been home, but this year, Nico opens the door as screams of ‘Uncle Lewis’ fill the apartment. 

Would you give it all up for me? 

Had Lewis said yes, then maybe there wouldn’t be screams for Uncle Lewis and the presents he brings every year like clockwork on Christmas and the ones he has delivered (but still wrapped by him) for their birthdays. Had Lewis said yes, then maybe he would be more than an honorary uncle they briefly see when he drops off presents, but a third parental figure. 

“Do you want to come in?” Nico asks softly despite knowing the answer. 

“I shouldn’t,” Lewis replies like clockwork, always saying no to Nico these days. 

“Probably not,” Nico agrees. 

“Do you ever think what it would have been like if I said ye-“ he doesn’t get the chance to finish the question. 

“You wouldn’t be Lewis if you said yes,” Nico cuts him off, “you wouldn’t be the man or driver that Anthony raised. It would’ve killed you to leave it all just as it would’ve killed me to stay.” 

“Ferrari sent some of the new hats, I thought the girls would like them…” 

“They will,” Nico says, pulling the cart into his apartment. 

Weeks later, when Lewis returns from his vacation and makes a stop in Monaco before he has to go to Maranello for his first official visit to the Ferrari facility, he sees the cart in the entryway. 

Like clockwork, it’s returned to him around his birthday — courtesy of Vivian, he’s sure despite Nico being the one who actually has his key — with drawings the girls had made as a thank you/birthday present, as well as pictures of the whole family enjoying and opening the gifts he’d delivered, 

The pictures are neatly placed in his Nico trunk with all the other mementos and pieces of his relationship with Nico — from when they first met as boys to the present. It had been a box at first, but sometime around 2018, Lewis had upgraded to a trunk. 

The drawings replace the ones already hanging on his fridge. The old ones will go in the Nico trunk where years of drawings already reside.

Would you give it all up for me? 

More often than not, Lewis wishes that he could have given it all up for Nico, for them, and for the life they could’ve had. More often than not, Lewis wishes that he could have said yes without hesitation and kissed Nico like he deserved after finally winning a championship. 

But they can’t turn back time. They’d made their choices long ago and now had to live with them. 

[talaok]

Giving up

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you

Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.

a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)

Part 1

"did you do something to your hair?"

Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.

"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"

His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh

"someone's in a good mood today"

"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"

Tommy's interest was only piqued more.

there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...

something was definitely going on.

"Where are you going?"

Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare

"none of your business"

Oh he knew what was going on...

"Who is she?"

"Tommy-"

"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"

Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.

He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.

"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"

But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.

"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"

What in the actual fuck?

Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.

"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak

"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur

"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"

"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"

"Tommy I know she's young bu-"

"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"

__ __

"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"

You smiled at his words, shaking your head

"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,

He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.

"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.

"Uhm- sure"

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.

Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.

Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.

You watched him as he sipped on the glass.

"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"

He damn near choked.

Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.

He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"

"And?"

You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face

pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes

"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"

Oh for fuck's sake

"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.

"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"

This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.

"ok"

__ __ __

As it turns out, in many different ways.

Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?

He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-

or so you thought.

"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips

"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"

He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.

What a tease

__ __ __

"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"

For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.

You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...

It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.

"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,

He held his breath for a moment

"'s nothing babygirl"

"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"

"In your... bedroom?"

"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.

Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.

You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.

And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.

The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.

He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.

"Everything seems right"

"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"

He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.

"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.

He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"

"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"

You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.

"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-

He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.

"would you like to have sex with me or not?"

You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat

"this- this ain't really fair sugar"

A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"

Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.

"You're y-young baby-"

Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.

"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"

He cursed under his breath

"I just... I don't understand"

A breathy laugh escaped you

"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"

That earned you a chuckle

"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"

You smiled as you looked up at him,

you'd never met a man so sweet

"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"

Fucking damn it

How could he ever say no after that?

With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...

"So?"

He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.

"yes"

That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.

yes

Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.

His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.

A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.

He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,

making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-

and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.

You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.

You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.

Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.

Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.

He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.

You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

"take off your clothes"

You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.

The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.

You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.

"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.

"What?" you laughed

"I-I don't even know"

You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.

He was already addicted.

In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-

His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.

He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.

"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"

Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.

"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"

"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"

You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.

"Fuck"

"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"

Jesus fuck

Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.

You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.

He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.

Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.

Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths

"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"

His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.

"you ok?"

His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.

"Joel?"

He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.

"d-don't move"

You smiled as you promised "I won't"

God this was fucking embarrassing.

He'd spent three days training.

And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.

He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.

He was so fucked

"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"

"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"

Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"

he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.

"take all the time you need"

And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.

He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.

There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.

Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.

"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized

You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence

"You look..."

Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.

"you're beautiful"

Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.

"so are you, Joel"

And that was that.

His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.

A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.

Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined

The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.

He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.

"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.

You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.

"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.

"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.

the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.

The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.

Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.

But he was nothing if not a gentleman,

You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.

His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.

Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.

Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit

"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"

You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming

"Inside"

It wasn't even a question

"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"

"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"

Good Christ and heaven

"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"

You were already seeing stars as he spoke

"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"

A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.

You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.

He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-

His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,

until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.

He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.

A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"

And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.

@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping

PART ONE only avaliable on AO3 due to Tumblr restrictions

fem reader

You went cold and forgot how to breathe.

When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him. 

She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.

Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath. 

With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.

“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.

But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.

“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”

Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.

“Come on,” he urged.

You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.

“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”

You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.

You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”

“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”

“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”

“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”

Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed. 

“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”

You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.

“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”

You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.

You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.

“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.

You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.

“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”

“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”

You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”

You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.

“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”

Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”

You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.

When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.

“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”

You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first. 

But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.

It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”

None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”

What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek. 

And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.

The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.

“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.

You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.

You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.

You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now. 

“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.

“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.” 

You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.

“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”

The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.

And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.

“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.” 

He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.

“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”

You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.

He played some with the digit—a smile on his face. 

“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.

You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.

He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.

You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.

You choke it down now as he climbs on top. 

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[tojisteddy]

After Care with Toji.

cw: no use of ‘y/n’ I use ‘[+]’, depicting after care (obviously), sub space, softdom!toji, fluff, dom/sub dynamics, treading the line of dd/lg (anyone could digest this), pet names (baby, doll, mama, ma), it’s LONG (idk how many words, I know know it’s LONG), toji is the sweetest bf ever.

Toji knew your limits. He knew just how much he could push and pull, throw you around until you were delirious. And he knew when you were fucked out of your mind, when you couldn’t think properly, you who’d only knew how to moan and spew gibberish.

He’d had half of his manhood in you, slowly sliding out of your gushing cunt as he looked down at your ravished body. He had hickies and bite marks from the top of your neck to your toes, both of juices on your stomach down an absolute mess coming from both of your thighs. He adored the sight of it.

He gently lifted your chin to look at him, your eyes kept wandering around, “no, no, look at me mama, focus.” His voice was gentle but it was a command.

It sorta sounded like God was calling you, maybe the pearly gates were opening. You wouldn’t have minded.

“Where’s yer head at? Tell me.” He always asked when you were blissed out.

You couldn’t verbally answer though. You reached for the back of his knee and tapped. Once, twice, three times. Toji’d known from the first tap alone you were calling it quits, he sat you up on the pillows. Running to go get a damp towel or two to clean you off.

“Such a good girl f’ me today Doll. Did so well.”

You hiccuped, rubbing your face that was once full of tears. “Really?”

Fuck, you were so damn cute like this.

“Course mama,” he lifted your hand and kissing your knuckles and intertwined your fingers, “Loved bein with you. You love it too?”

“Course papa.” You replied, using his same sweet tone.

The ends of his lips curved up, leaving a quick kiss at your temple, “Yer so sweet baby.”

You hadn’t even realized when Toji finished cleaning you up and had sat you up, legs dangling off the bed. You felt his fingers going into your hair.

“I-I can take care ‘f myself Toji.”

“Sure you can ma, but not right now. Let me help you.”

Togi was consistent with after care. It was something he learned how to do after being with so many women, to look out for them. Help them clean up, get them properly conscious, relaxed.

It was different with you, though.

Not that he wasn’t a fan of it already, but after pushing you to your limit, manhandling you every which way known to man, forcing you to take everything he had— he loved taking care of you. To the point that even when his dick K.O’ed you into darkness, you’d wake up at 3 am, the moonlight slithering it’s way into the your shades bedroom through the curtains. You’d sit all the way up, rubbing your tired eyes to find yourself completely wiped down, in one of Toji’s sweatshirts that hung off him just right but gave you sweater paws, a pair of underwear and a scarf to protect your hair because he knew you’d be grumbling all morning if you woke up with out.

He didn’t mind because he loved you.

You, who never asked too much of him or pushed him too hard. You, who felt every need to be independent, and he had to teach you to rely on him. You, who had every wall built up as far as the eye can see, worse than him— it was Toji who broke every one of them down, breaking his own in the process.

Yes, you were his play thing in the bedroom, a messy girl, his slut— but everywhere else, you were his baby, his gorgeous girl, cute future mamma to his kids, his lover.

Oh how he absolutely adored you.

“What’ddya wanna do, huh? Take a drive, eat, a bath?” He had put your curls up with one of the silk scrunchies you left lying around, leaving peppering kisses on the back of your neck.

“A bath.” You mumbled.

“Yeah?” He carefully rubbed your hips, thankfully they didn’t bruise this time.

“Go on, take a shower first ‘nd I’ll meet you there. You know what to do.”

With a pat to your ass, you were off. Legs wobbly from so much action.

Toji took care of everything. From changing the sheets, lighting candles, playing whatever music you wanted to hear to wind down, running the overly hot bath water with bubbles, just how you liked it. Whatever you wanted at the moment, Toji would give it to you. He loved how reliant you were when you were blissed out.

He liked it when you were completely relaxed, completely trusting of him with not a care in the world. Your only focus was him and being with him. He also loved being needed by you, how you were like two peas in a pod— both of you needing each other.

You pressed your head on the cool tile of the shower, closing your eyes as the soap and water ran down your body. It felt soooo nice against your skin.

“Oi, if yer tired sit on the hinoki!”

He snapped you out of whatever trance you were in with the wall, but you closed your eyes again with a scuff, “fuck off… ‘m not tired… You’re fuckin tired.”

Toji chuckled, setting both of your pajamas on the bathroom counter and then joining you under the hot water.

“You talkin shit?” An amused look on his face, leaning down closer to see you. As if he wasn’t already following your every move, just to make sure you were safe on your own.

“You get in my face… talkin- talkin ‘bout me… you’rrre the one yellin. Yoouu must be tired.” You slurred out, a grin forming on your face.

“ ‘S that right?”

“ ‘M always righ—”

You yelped out, Tojis devious fingers immediately going to your tummy, your arm pits— anywhere he knew he could get a bustle of laughter out of you. At the best and worst times, Toji was a literal tickle monster. He could get anything out of you that way.

“That’s— haha- you’re cheating! Ah! Hehee- you cheater!”

“Come on! I know yer tired, I’ll stop if you sit.”

“Oh, come awn!”

Without another word, Toji had you trapped between his body and the tile wall of the shower, tickling you so much it hurt.

You groaned, still giggling up a storm, slapping his large arms that held you, “Damn it! I give! I give!”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers were off of you body, taking your hand and guiding you to the hinoki.

“Doesn’t that feel better?”

“Whatever.”

It did feel better, your legs had been contorted in every in every way imaginable. Above his head, above your head, spread out from the Atlantic Ocean to the pacific. It felt good to take a rest.

Your eyes trailed up Toji’s body, skin riddled with scratch marks from his arms to his back, a few hickies on his neck, water cascading down his toned muscles, chiseled cheek bones—

“You starin mama?”

Toji hummed to himself, he loved when your eyes were on him. They were so pretty to him, especially when you were in the sun and he could really get a look at them. Like two Hershey kisses staring back at his green ones.

“Look so cute when you blush.”

“Shut up! You can’t even see it!”

He couldn’t, your brown skin didn’t let it peek through.

But it was in the way your eyes immediately went else where, unconsciously going to feel your heated cheeks or even trying to hide your face that had a small toothy smile— so fucking cute.

“Is the bath done?” Your eyes going to the tub a few feet away back to Toji who was washing his body with a wash cloth.

“Course, but you always fall asleep in there Doll ‘nd I told you I don’t like. It’s not safe.”

“I’ve never fallin asleep in there!”

His eyes met yours, eyebrow raised. Try it [+], I dare you.

“Maybe once.”

He shook his head, going back to washing his body. Unbelievable.

“More than once.” It came out more like a question even though you knew the answer to it.

Toji peered down at you, your eyes back at the tub. The steam was rising from the water, bubbles floating to and fro in the water. Slowly disappearing. Then your eyes went back to him. Big brown doe eyes, a tilt of your head and the cherry on top; a pout on your two tone lips. Not two big, not too small- just enough to push.

You were hell.

How could he say no when you were looking up at him like that.

“Fine- fuck baby, take your time!”

You slipped twice getting to the tub. Once because of how wet your foot was because of the water and another time because your legs felt exactly like the water under your foot. If it weren’t for the bath, you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Now you would be able to, a little limp like you worked out (I mean you probably could consider what you did an hour ago a workout) but you’d be able to!

Toji was right there with you, towel in his lap just barely covering his manhood, sitting on the hinoki and washing his hair. Talking to you about anything from the lunch you packed him last week to the new sake he wanted to try. You loved it, Toji’s voice was like a melody, deep, scratchy because of all the cigarettes yet smooth— a shot of whiskey.

“Scoot.”

You moved forward so Toji could sit behind you, it was his spot whenever you took baths together. After care or not. He loved getting to hold you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, leaving kisses at every place he left a hickey, maybe placing one or two new ones there.

Tonight was quiet, The Light In by Lana playing. You really were tired, unwilling to fight it but at peace— right where you needed to be. Toji was rubbing your arms, your thighs, your shoulders, just in the right places— he had some godly hands. Toji looked at you, who was completely slumped, your head resting against the tub, your long lashes slowly meeting each again and again.

“Ready for bed?”

“Mmm.”

You don’t know how, or when but by the time you’d realized— Toji had you in bed, teeth brushed, pajamas and scarf on and was rubbing the small of your back. Whispering how you did so well for him, how good you were, his adorable baby— a total sweetheart.

“Love you papa.” You mumbled, drifting off without a second thought.

Toji smiled, taking in your gorgeous face one more time before closing his eyes.

“Love you too mama.”

[rafesangelita]

♡ it’s that time of year again, and kook!sweetheart!reader is here and ready to kiss for charity in her annual kissing booth! however, rafe is first in line.. and a peck on the cheek is not the only thing he’s interested in

warnings: s1!rafe, flirty banter, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, overstimulation, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘KISSING BOOTH’ 🤍 i was so obsessed with this idea, i had came up with it last year but decided i should wait for valentine’s day to write it, so to say it’s been a long time coming is an understatement! i’m so excited for this valentine’s day celebration, i hope you all will love it <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.5k

“wow, it looks like cupid threw up in here.” you smiled at the familiar voice, your best friend rolling her eyes when she saw the way your cheeks heated at rafe’s teasing words. while she thought rafe was annoying and insufferable, you absolutely adored him, always laughing at his lame jokes and letting him hold you close at parties as if to let everyone know that you were off limits. “you don’t like the way i decorated the booth?” you pouted up at him as he leaned over the front counter, a smug grin gracing his features. “yeah, it’s cute..” he trailed off, “but are you really gonna kiss some random assholes for a fuckin’ dollar?”

you sighed, pointing towards the tip jar. “it’s for charity, rafe.. and i’m not really ‘kissing’ anyone, i’m barely grazing their cheek!” rafe scoffed before studying you for a moment. you were such a pretty thing, the idea of some losers waiting in line to get something as little as a peck from you made his blood boil. “how much money do you have to make today?” he was fishing in his pocket for his wallet before you even answered. “i would like to make at least three hundred dollars.” you watched him curiously as he managed to get some crisp bills out of the expensive leather.

“i’ll do you one better, and give you five hundred dollars to ditch this joint right now.” you blinked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “are you serious?” he dropped the money in the jar that you decorated with pink heart-shaped stickers and red rhinestones. “yeah, but i don’t just want a kiss..” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “i’d rather see those pretty, sparkly lips wrapped around my cock instead, yeah?” you felt butterflies flutter in your tummy, your needy gaze meeting his own. “come on, baby.” he took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing into your skin.

swallowing thickly, you glanced over at your bestie. “i can’t leave her to do this all by herself..” just as you were going to apologize and tell him maybe another time, she took the money out of the jar and placed it into an envelope. “i’m gonna go turn this money in to the charity organizers and close up shop, ‘looks like the boys of kildare will have to be kissed by someone else today.” you giggled, motioning for rafe to come inside once your friend left. he wasted no time, locking the wooden door shut as you closed the window, moving the silky red curtain over the glass.

rafe’s hands were palming the soft flesh of your ass in an instant, his large hands shamelessly flipping up your skirt to get a better grip on your skin. despite the small amount of pain he drew from squeezing you so hard, you still moaned blissfully when he took you in a sloppy kiss, his tongue wetting your bottom lip in the process. “you’re so sweet, y’know that? letting me have my way with you like this.” without warning, rafe took ahold of your thighs before hiking you up onto the counter. “i’ve been wanting to know how you taste for so long..” he groaned, both of you moaning as he rubbed you through your panties.

moving your hands to run down his chest, you and rafe shared a look before he slowly peeled back the pink lace. “all i gotta do is chat you up, and you’re already soaked like this?” he laughed incredulously, “fuck, you’re just dying for it.” you couldn’t help but whimper when he gathered the pool of slick between your folds, circling your clit slow and hard before popping his digits into his mouth. “rafe!” you’re shocked but so turned on at the same time, the look of pure disbelief on your face making him smile in amusement. “as much as i’d love to eat this sweet pussy, i need to feel you wrapped around me even more.”

fingertips hooking in the waistband of your panties, rafe slid the material down your legs before placing them in his pocket. “i’m keeping these for later, ‘that alright?” you nodded frantically, spreading your thighs open for him before he stroked your glossy slit. “m’gonna stretch you out just right..” you gasped, your eyebrows knitting together as he slowly inserted his middle finger. “shit, you’re so tight.” he smiled down at you, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “if you think this is a stretch, just wait til’ i have my cock inside of you.”

rafe was knuckle deep at this point, your pretty moans giving him all the encouragement he needed to insert another finger. “oh, god!” your heel clad feet began shaking when his palm met your swollen clit, the pressure making you keen. rafe fisted your ponytail, pulling your head down so you could watch him curl his digits in order to hit that soft, gummy spot inside of you. your top was out of place, your tits threatening to spill out of your bra as rafe used his free hand to keep your chin pointed down. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more you tried to pull away from him, the intensity of your climax already coiling tight in your tummy.

rafe let go of your hair and pinned you down by your hip as he pushed you over the edge, the band in your stomach finally snapping as you came undone. you cried out, your nails raking down his forearm as he hissed at the stinging sensation. “you’re doing so fucking good, holy shit!” he cursed, the sound of your slick juices making your cheeks heat. you shook and writhed beneath him, your heart beating in your ears as you felt the pure unadulterated pleasure wrack through your system. surely, it couldn’t get better than this.. right?

wrong.

rafe wasn’t lying when he said the stretch from his fingers was nothing compared to the stretch of his cock, the tip of his length now kissing your poor cervix with each thrust. “t-too much! rafe, slow down!” he ignored your pleas, instead taking your arms and pinning them to your back so you couldn’t push against his abs anymore. you swore if it wasn’t for him holding your leg up, you would’ve fallen to the ground already. “ah, nah you got it, pretty girl.” he leaned down, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “this is all you, sweetheart, you’re sucking me in like a fucking vice.” he panted.

rafe was close, but he meant what he said earlier— he needed to see you on your knees for him, he needed to see those swollen lips wrapped around his cock just like how he’s imagined for so long. just when rafe felt like he was going to fill up your cunt, he pulled out, quickly pushing you to the floor so he could use your throat instead. you’ve given him complete control, and the power to throw you around as he got you on your knees, kicking your thighs apart so he could see the mess you made between your legs. rafe nearly came when he saw you open your mouth so willingly for him, almost like it was your instinct to take him whole.

taking the hem of his shirt between his teeth, rafe kept the cotton material out of the way as he slid between your lips with ease. you were so warm and so wet, and just so, so, so pretty with your mouth full, he took a breath before tugging at the roots of your hair. “make me fuckin’ cum,” your eyes widened slightly when he whimpered, the sound making you take him even further until your nose was nudging at his base, “oh, what the fuck, what the fuck—” he was done for as soon as you swallowed around him, your eyes watering with tears as you felt the warm ropes of his seed paint your throat.

rafe kept your head in place, his jaw slack as he emptied himself inside of you. it wasn’t until you tapped on his leg that he pulled you off, a strangled gasp leaving your lips as you finally sucked in a breath. he felt dazed, just the same way you did. “damn, sweetheart, should i bribe you more often?” you laughed, accepting the hand he held out for you. standing up on shaky legs, rafe got his shorts on, helping you readjust your clothing shortly after. “you don’t have to bribe me..” despite just doing the most filthiest things you’ve ever done, you still couldn’t help but feel shy underneath the intensity of his stare.

rafe kissed you, taking your hand in his before placing another kiss to your knuckles. “come on,” he poked his head out of the booth to make sure no one was around, “let’s get you back to my place, i need to get my head between those thighs like asap.”

[shawtuzi]

idk what this is it kinda just came to me

cw include: breath play, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, sugu is such a sweetie pie :((, two bfs but only suguru’s fucking you in this, i added a cute interaction between sugu and eren bc why df not <33 (boarder credit @/bernardsbendystraws)

“you wanna know what i noticed?” suguru asked, wiping off any excess from the face mask he just washed off. eren was beside him brushing his teeth, tired eyes looking at his reflection as he brushed his teeth. eren locked eyes with suguru in the mirror, his brows raising in question.

suguru looked outside of the bathroom making sure you weren’t in earshot—thankfully you were already preoccupied running over citizens in gta 5.

“don’t get all bashful on me now,” eren’s muffled voice teased suguru. he could tell by the pink tint in his cheeks that it was definitely something naughty. suguru was the shyest perv eren had ever met in his life.

geto kissed his teeth, yanking off his (your) bubble headband. “i think…y/n’s into breath play,” suguru couldn’t help the smirk that quirked his lips, especially when he saw that eren’s tired eyes were now wide and full of questions.

“look just hear me out…”

*flashback <3*

suguru’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his thighs trembling from pure pleasure. he had your knees to your ears, skillful hips slapping into the back of thighs as he fucked you like he hated your guts. you cried out in pleasure when his fingernails dug little crescents into the fat of your thighs, a gush of your essence coating the base of his dick soon after.

“c-choke me.”

“h-huh?”

suguru’s pace slowed but never stopped—he was toooo fucking close to his nut to stop completely. your hand weakly tapped at his, “choke me please. i c-can handle it s’okay.” suguru gulped, his balls tightening. with a shaky hand he wrapped his fingers around your throat, adding zero pressure whatsoever.

you huffed, kicking your feet against his lower back. “do it harder sugu. it’s okay i can take itttt,” your lips were turned into an adorable pout, doe eyes brimming with the neediest tears. suguru’s brows furrowed, his lips turning into a frown. he was just so scared he’d hurt you :((

you could sense the change in his demeanor, a small smile making its way onto your lips. you brought a hand up to caress his jaw, letting out a tiny laugh when he leant into your touch. “if it hurts i’ll tap you okay? don’t worry sugu, let loose a little m’ a big girl,” suguru laughed at the last part, pressing a kiss to your palm before shifting his weight to apply more pressure to your throat.

you gasped at the new angle, your pussy clenching suguru’s cock like a vice when his hand tightened around your throat. suguru pulled out till only the tip was in before slamming back inside you, his hips circling deliciously before repeating it three more times. “f-faster!” you croaked, your heart fluttering when suguru licked a stray tear off your cheek. that was certainly new.

suguru’s strokes were quicker but still just as precise, his spongy tip kissing that special spot deeeep inside you. “f-fuck baby s’wet for sugu,” he grunted, a whimper that he so desperately wanted to keep down bubbled in his chest. “d-don’t….don’t lemme breathe till i cum, m’so close sugu,” suguru’s eyes widened, his pace faltering the tiniest bit.

did you always like being this roughed up?

suguru didn’t answer, instead he just righted his grip around your throat once more until he heard you squeak. his dialed pupils found yours, looking for any signs of discomfort but all he saw was your mouth dropped in pleasure, your eyes nearly rolling back. his pace quickened, his swollen balls slapping harshly against your backside.

“o-oh fuck!” you squealed, your teeth clenching together when you felt suguru’s pelvis rub harshly against your puffy clit. “ooo shit your about to c-cum, i can—fuck, i can fuckin’ feel it,” suguru growled, his thumb pressing down on the center of your throat. your head was beginning to feel very fuzzy and you loved it.

suguru let out a high pitched whine when the first stream of your cum hit his stomach abruptly. your eyes were completely rolled into the back of your head, droplets of drool leaking from your lips and onto your chin and neck. suguru continued to fuck your through your orgasm like a madman, his grip on your throat loosening.

you weren’t quiet sure what happened, suguru wasn’t too sure either but something in your tummy snapped, your orgasm hitting even harder than it was before. “sh-shit you’re still fucking cumming?” suguru gasped in awe, his teeth clamping onto his bottom lip at the sight of the never ending streams of cum coating his dick and abdomen. “look at that,” he grunted, cupping the back of your neck. he pushed your neck upwards, forcing you to look at the mess between your bodies.

you weren’t capable of even making a sound, all you could do was look your sugu in the eyes and silently beg for his cum. oh how he loved when you looked at him like that.

suguru’s abs clenched, his hips pushing against yours one last time before he came, white dots clouding his vision. he slowly rolled his hips, relishing in the sloshing noises that echoed throughout the room.

“you okay baby? wasn’t too rough on you was i?” he frowned, cupping your face in his hands. you giggled breathlessly, shaking your head. suguru kissed your lips three times, his tongue slipping into your mouth. you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tugging at his jet black strands.

“mmph don’t get too excited sweetness, let’s wait for eren for the next round yeah?”

*flashback over <3*

eren was absolutely gobsmacked at this information, his mouth parted but no words were able to be formed. suguru was as red as tomato, his eyes looking anywhere but eren’s. “hey,” eren said poking suguru’s chest, “remember what we talked about with eye contact? y’don’t need to be so nervous sugu it’s just me.”

suguru nodded, giving eren a small smile. “you’re right you’re right…but yeah that’s what i’m thinking. i could be wrong but with her you never know,” suguru chuckled, his ears pricking up when he heard footsteps approaching the bathroom.

“what’s taking you guys so longgg? m’getting bored by myself in there,” you whined, nuzzling into eren’s side. eren squeezed your hip lovingly, his lips lifting into a smirk. you gasped when you felt eren’s hand wrap around your neck, your head knocking against the door with a soft thud when he pushed you against it. “w-what’s your deal?” you whined, your clit tingling at the force.

“me and sugu had a very interesting conversation about you. ‘told me that you liked to be fucked till your dizzy and breathless…is that right?” eren spoke softly, his thumb brushing your chin. your eyes flit to suguru’s, your lips pushing into a pout at the shit eating grin in his face. “that was supposed to be a secret,” you whispered, knowing good and well what the two men were talking about.

eren tutted, slowly shaking his head, “my sweet girl y’know there’s no such thing as secrets in this relationship, isn’t that right babe?” suguru nodded eagerly, warmth pooling in his lower belly. he rlly liked when eren called him pet names hehe. you jumped when you felt eren’s free hand cup your pussy gently, his palm bumping against your clit.

“i can feel your heartbeat over your shorts princess,” he whispered in your ear, licking over the shell of it. you whined in embarrassment, wanting so desperately to cover your face but you knew better than to hide yourself from your boyfriends. suguru inched closer to the two of you until he was cornering you along with eren.

“don’t be embarrassed baby, i really liked it! i know you did too right?” he grinned, squishing your cheeks together. eren gave you a look, silently telling you to be honest. you huffed through your nose, nodding shamelessly. you felt so small underneath their intense gazes, but you definitely couldn’t deny you were excited for whatever was coming your way!!

[rqnarok]

summary: dark!old man!logan would do anything for the sake of you going back into his arms. 

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. obsessive behavior. fem!reader. logan calls himself ‘old man’. pet names. unspecified age gap. unstable power dynamic. crying. soft dom!logan. sub!reader. not proofread. 

You’re not sure if you can even call him your ‘ex.’ 

The both of you never had the ‘talk’, and never did have any middle ground stating what kind of relationship this is. 

Logan’s way older than you - way more mature - “Need t’be fucked by a real man, ‘s that it, baby?” way more experienced. 

No matter how heated the night before, Logan still turns everything cold with his aloofness - and you - you never feel brave enough to speak up against it. 

With a heavy heart and numerous self-loathing sessions, you concluded that it was time to let him go - convincing yourself you deserve someone more. Someone you’d be comfortable with to ask for something more. 

And you did, well, that’s what you tell yourself as you busied yourself with everything else. Withdrawing from him little by little, texting him things such as  ‘Can’t meet you today, sorry’ or ‘Something else came up..’ to avoid ending up on his sheets.

Logan’s not stupid. He may be old, a fucking hundred years old something but he’s not dumb. He knows what you’re doing. 

Reading the texts you sent him, he’d grumble curse words under his breaths before tugging off his glasses in a harsh movement. 

He just didn’t think you’d last so long dodging him. Logan expected you to give up on the first day of the second week—he was wrong because it’s been a month, damnit.

Sometime during the unlabeled relationship that went on for almost a year already, you put Logan’s number on the list as your ‘alternative’ contact, making people ring his number when yours is not answering.

And Logan always answers your phone calls. He’d justify himself that it’s merely a habit that he’s still trying to break, but truthfully it’s to make sure you’re hanging out with the ‘right people.’ 

Logan fucking hates it when he’s hearing a guy’s voice on the other line—toughens himself to respond, lowering his voice and curting his answers. He’ll let them know you’re busy. 

In the second month, you run back into Logan in desperation. 

Your eyes are all puffy from crying because your last date was such a prick! He called you nasty-horrible-sickening names before erasing your number off his phone for no reason. 

Logan opens his arms to welcome your hiccuping figure standing before him. Shushing you down and rubbing circles on your back - telling you to tell him who hurted you. 

This dependency you hold on him makes his cock twitch. That he’s right: you still seek him out no matter how long it takes. 

You don’t even notice how bad it gets—that’s the best thing. You never learn, huh?

That’s alright - because he’ll try for real this time. Groans out praises after praises to you, “What’s that, baby? Y’feel good?” Logan jeers overhead, holding himself over you with his hand gripping onto the headboard, “Too good?” He chuckles as his other hand thumbs on your puffy button.

His rough fingers pad up your clit, sending electricity throughout your body. Making you writhe underneath him and Logan scolds you in the softest way he can, “Stay still f’me, will ya?” 

You can’t answer. You can’t even speak outside of high-pitched whines, a mess of your own saliva drips until it reaches your chin. Your whole body is finally sticky after it’s been cold for weeks. His fat cock driving onto his home over and over, better than anything you’ve ever felt before.

“Yeah, y’just need your old man, hm? No one else can t‘care of this pussy like I do, sweetheart.”

He maliciously slows down his movement to watch his length entering your wet folds, humming at the vulgar squelching sound, “Come take a look a’her, baby. She’s squeezing me in - misses me so much.” 

The sight of him is trouble, messy greying hair and beard; chest full of scars. Everything you should’ve stayed away from.

”Yeayeahyea- Missed you so m-much. Ah-” 

But you cannot think when he’s holding you like this - when he angles himself so his tip is continuously hitting against that spongy spot inside you that makes your body weak. 

A string of ah ah ahs are leaving your mouth as he growls next to your face. “‘M cumming —”

His head falls back as he feels how your dripping pussy milks him dry, instantly following after as he buries himself deeper to make sure none of his cum drips out, “F-fuck. Good fuckin’ girl.” 

When he’s finished, Logan falls atop you in tiredness before rolling himself slightly to the side so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight. Pampering your tear-flushed cheeks with slow kisses - the feel of his beard burning onto your skin like a streak of fire.

“C’meback, sweet girl.” He whispers in a quiet voice, hoping you’d give in completely. 

And you do - you always do.

Moments later, he’d have you resting on his chest, fingers combing through your hair to calm you down from the noises inside your head.

You don’t have to know that he was the one who drove your date away. 

It’s a mistake that the boy called Logan’s number because he was so impatient to hear back from you. A goddamn mistake. 

Because of that, Logan became aware of his existence and tracks him down. Threatens the other guy to stay the fuck away from you. 

Poor guy almost pissed his pants in fright. Running away scared shitless after Logan let go of his collar. 

Logan doesn’t know when exactly he turned into this wild animal. A sick old fuck who’d do anything to keep you in his embrace. 

Why does it matter? Everything is in its right place now. He’ll make sure you’d never have to know about the things he’d do for you.

[annievrse]

fresh out the slammer

sukuna x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic c/w: singular mention of sa w/c: 1.1k a/n: all characters mentioned are 22, shoko is your best friend.

"you're not meant to be here."

the man who stands at your doorstep scoffs. your 6 foot 3, pink-haired ex takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you have to force down the urge to jump him.

you tilt your head when he doesn't answer. "ryomen, you need to leave. right now."

a single eyebrows arches. "i know damn well you ain't talkin’ to me like that."

rolling your eyes, you know he won’t do anything you say. so, opening your front door wider, sukuna steps inside, his left hand scratching the back of his neck.

“see, being nice isn’t that hard,” he teases, glancing at you over his shoulder. sighing, you close the door, eyeing him wearily as he lingers in the hallway.

“new key hook?” sukuna smiles, pointing at the wall.

you shake your head in disbelief. “why’re you here?”

sukuna raises his eyebrows, spinning to face you. but you realise your mistake too late.

with the door at your back and nowhere to go, you’re cornered by your ex-boyfriend. yet, he seems to know exactly what he’s doing, with his tongue poking his cheek as he approaches.

“where were you on sunday?”

your breath hitches in your throat when he runs a finger along your collarbone, but you won’t let him get you that easy.

“nowhere,” you insist, staring him down. he always said you were brave for doing that — you were the only one to ever do so.

“funny,” the corner of his mouth turns upward. “i heard something different.”

you give him no reaction. besides, what’s it to him?

“ok, and?”

“ooo,” he laughs deeply, his head tilting. “so it’s true.”

“ryomen—“

“come on baby, you know that’s not my name to you.”

“ryomen,” you press, putting your hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. “you need to leave.”

the faux pout he gives you makes you want to slap him, but you can’t bring yourself to do something so heinous to him.

“fine,” you concede. “yeah, i went on a hinge date, so what?”

“so what?” sukuna mutters bitterly. “it’s not ‘so what’ when he tries to force himself on you, baby.”

your face heats at the mention of it. “sukuna—“

“and you didn’t think to tell me?” he presses his hand on the door behind you, his body dangerously close to yours.

“i was scared,” you whisper, gaze on his chest to avoid his eyes. you notice his body visibly relax, his head hanging closer to yours to hear. “i knew you would do something about it, and i didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“you don’t need to worry about me,” sukuna asserts, his finger under your chin to lift your face towards his. “it’s already been taken care of, and i’m still here.”

your eyes widen slightly, head moving to look at his right hand on the door. spread on the brown wood is his hand, larger as always, the pale skin on his knuckles red and purple and bloody and you’re shocked you didn’t see it before.

reaching up, you grab sukuna’s hand to cradle it in your own. “you’re joking.”

“you’re not a joke to me, sweetheart.”

sighing, you side step him, holding his injured hand in your own. he follows mindlessly behind you, checking out his left hand that is just as bloody as the other.

entering the bathroom, you don’t need to tell him where to sit before you dig the first aid kit out of the cupboard beneath the sink. you hadn’t had to use it in a while.

“kuna,” you murmur, observing his hands. he doesn’t reply. instead, he watches you, like he always does.

faces level, you set everything onto the counter. standing between his thighs makes your body feel numb. and when one of his hands covers your hip, you focus on the other.

sukuna doesn’t flinch when you clean his knuckles with alcohol, and doesn’t object when you smooth frozen band-aids over the particularly bad cuts.

“thanks, baby,” sukuna says, not checking to see if you cleaned them correctly—you always do.

“don’t mention it,” you dismiss flippantly, putting the red soaked cloth in the sink and the aid pack back in the cupboard.

the silence is comfortable but charged with something you don’t want to acknowledge. the muted chatter from the tv in the living room penetrates the bathroom wall, and you come back to your senses.

“does shoko know?”

“she told me.”

you sigh, if she couldn’t get her hands on your hinge date, she’d tell someone who could—and he did.

“he had a bruise where you punched him,” sukuna quips. “but i may have made it worse.”

you twist your lips sheepishly. “yeah, well, i wasn’t letting him get away that easy.”

“that’s my girl.”

the comment makes your stomach flutter pathetically.

“you wanna stay over?” you blurt, face warm.

sukuna knows better than to tease you right now, so he nods, and stands from the closed toilet seat.

you swiftly leave the bathroom, pacing down the hallway to curl up on the couch. sukuna walks in idly, taking in the space he’s spent so much time in. one thing catches his eye, and then he’s poking fun at you.

“nice picture.”

your eyes dart to where he’s looking on the bookshelf, and god forbid, it’s a photo of the two of you at tokyo tower. but, you’re not embarrassed.

“yeah, i look hot.”

sukuna chuckles, sitting next to you and propping his feet up on the coffee table. “you look hot all the time, shut up.”

drawing in a breath, you can’t contain yourself anymore. you circle your arm around his neck, fingers threading through his pink locks. sukuna turns his head toward you, lips inches apart.

“feet off the table.”

“don’t tell me what to do.”

you snicker, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“fresh out the slammer,” you joke. “and you come here.”

“of course,” sukuna looks confused. “where else would i go?”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop your emotions from showing.

“i don’t know,” you glance down at when his fingers play with the drawstring of your sweatpants. “a new girl?”

“please,” sukuna scoffs. “like anyone else would put up with my shit.”

you give him a deadpan look.

sukuna rolls his eyes. “you’re my pretty baby, i’ll always come home to you or whatever,” he says lazily.

you run your thumb over his cheekbone. "kuna.”

he raises his eyebrows in question, but he knows what you’re asking.

“i need something from you," you mumble, tracing his lips with your eyes.

"oh yeah?" he smirks, voice low. "and what's that?"

you shrug, licking your lips. “nothing.”

sukuna rolls his eyes and lifts your hips up and over him, your knees bracketing his thighs. you squeal softly, forgetting just how strong he is.

sukuna shifts his hips underneath you. “you’re so—”

“kiss me.”

you don’t have to tell him twice.

[uhohdad]

(18+) König x Reader - Catching Him Getting Off

It takes you far too long to process both your mistake and the sight before you.

Even though you’re stumbling and your vision is blurry, you knew something was up. This was not the room you had left when you went to the bathroom to relieve a bladder so full it threatened to burst. The room you had just left was packed with your teammates, pungent with the smell of alcohol, and flooded with songs you don’t recognize.

This room was almost silent, smelled of musk, and held only one occupant.

Your colonel.

Shirtless.

His impressive, intimidating form sprawled out on a bed he makes look comically small, muscles tight and glistening with sweat. His massive arm bulging to pump what is no doubt the largest cock you have ever seen, at full attention and freed from his sweatpants.

König’s eyes flit to you, so obviously not where you’re supposed to be. While his brow quirks and the pace of his pumps slow, he doesn’t rush to cover himself up or even stop what he’s doing.

When your brain finally catches up, you scramble, shouting desperate apologies and tripping over yourself to leave and slam his door shut behind you.

You do not return to your team. You dart straight to your room, seal yourself away, and pace for the better part of an hour.

You manage to get away with your avoidance for a few days. Hardly lifting your head from the floor and darting away anytime he neared. The burn of his stare is hard to ignore, though. Searing and white hot. But there’s no way you’ll be able to make eye contact with him ever again. Not when you know what his thick cock looks like when glistened with precum and being pleasured by his fist. Not when you’ve already gotten off to the thought of helping him out with his needs by letting him rut into you instead of his hand.

Always blunt and never bashful, he waits until your guard is down before he corners you. He plants his giant hand just in front of your lunch and leans down until you have no choice but to acknowledge him. It’s hard to look at his arm and not picture the muscles you know reside underneath his uniform.

“You don’t have to be so shy around me.”

“Colonel, I am so sorry. I thought I was- Please, can we just forget that even happened? I won’t tell anyone, I- I haven’t-”

“Es ist okay,” He says, soft and reassuring.

It’s so jarring from his usual assertive and even vitriolic way of speaking. You don’t have the sense to hide the furrow of your brow.

His eyes crinkle, and he gives a low hum with a tilt of his head. It’s hard to resist squirming with those intense, piercing eyes boring into you.

“Did you like what you saw?”

“What?” You ask through a nervous laugh.

You heard him, oh you heard him, but you have to hear it again to be sure.

“Did you like what you saw?”

His repetition doesn’t waver. The words roll off his tongue far too casually for such a forward question.

You don’t have an answer for him. You’re paralyzed under his stare, by his brazen words, trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke you don’t understand. Your mouth parts in anticipation to answer his question but fail to form the words. He doesn’t wait for you to scrounge up a response before he throws another impossible question at you.

“Do you want to see it again?”

You suck in a sharp breath and finally look away. After a beat, you give a shameful but eager nod.

Suddenly you’re back in his quarters, on your knees before his monstrous, impossible form. Stripped of your clothes while he stands covered head to toe except for the cock freed from his waistband. He studies you carefully, your head craned back and pitiful eyes trained on him. Your mouth is open, tongue stuck out, obediently waiting for the finish he’s working toward. His hands are just a blur, pumping himself to the sight of the tiny little thing kneeling between his boots.

“Sehr gut,” He breathes, “So patient for me.”

He slows to run the head of his cock along your slick tongue.

“You want to get off too, süßes kleines ding?”

While your cheeks are burning and you feel more than degraded, the growing stain of arousal in your panties tells a different story.

“So hübsch.”

König reaches down to cup your jaw and guides you to look at him while his foot nudges its way between your thighs.

“Grind on my boot.”

You whine, keeping your mouth open and ready like the obedient little soldier you are, and lower yourself onto his boot. Cheeks flushed with heat as you wrap your arms around his leg and grind your soaked panties along the leather. Relieving the needy ache between your legs and chasing that warm jolt of pleasure with each brush over your clit.

“Ich werde dieses hübsche Gesicht ruinieren.”

Your eyes instinctively pinch shut when you feel the warm droplets of his finish splatter on your cheek. He lets out a choppy moan as he paints your face and outstretched tongue in his sticky mess, making sure to milk every last drop on his waiting canvas.

“Look at me,” He grits.

He takes a moment to admire his work, tilting your head side to side with a gentle but firm hand on your jaw. He hums content before letting go, tucking himself back into his boxers and buttoning up his pants.

“Swallow,” He orders.

You finally close your mouth as you take down what he managed to get on your tongue, intrusive and salty.

He gives a gentle wiggle of his boot and squints at you, surely wearing a smug grin beneath that hood.

“You can clean your face after you finish yourself off, liebling.”

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[prael]

Day 6: Revenge Or Fate

IOI/Gugudan Sejeong x male reader smut

words: 5,611 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"What's that look for?" you ask with all the whimsy you can muster. "I only said that I bought your favourite popcorn. Why are you staring at me as if I just got down on one knee and proposed?"

"You did say you'd marry me someday," Sejeong jokes. Then she does that thing she always does when she's nervous—tugging at the lobe of her ear.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah. I mean when we are both in our sixties. When you have become the crazy cat lady and I the bachelor with a penchant for wine and cigarettes. It's not even close to that time yet."

"Why would you be smoking?" Sejeong wrinkles her nose. She knows you can't stand the smell.

"Because I'll be an ageing bachelor, duh," you answer with a dismissive wave of a hand as you sit by her on the couch. She's got her legs curled up against her chest, the way she always does when it's cold outside. You'd know—she's been sitting like that on your couch every winter since the beginning of time.

She lets out the softest of laughs before it quickly dissipates into silence. She's staring across the room, but not really looking at anything. Her face is painted in melancholy. You know her well enough to know that look, and you hate it. Hate everything it represents. You sigh. The first time you saw her like this was back as teenagers, after the dog she grew up with had been hit by a car. It still hurts your chest.

"You've got that look again," you tell her. "Like there's a million and one things in your mind and none of them particularly good."

"I'm okay. Just tired." Sejeong's smile doesn't quite convince you.

"I wasn't going to say anything. I thought you'd tell me if you wanted me to know, but it's been months since you asked me to come over on a Friday night, so something has happened. I haven't seen this much annoyance behind your eyes since the end of Game Of Thrones. What is it?"

"I'm just feeling overwhelmed, that's all. I wish you weren't so observant."

"You should be used to it by now."

Sejeong flashes a half-hearted smile and takes hold of your hand as she used to do when you were kids. You feel guilty for the way your stomach flutters.

"I guess we have always known each other better than anyone else," she admits, her hand still clasped around yours. It's warm and familiar. You feel the urge to push away, but how can you? It would give far too much away. She has always had this effect on you—you could never distance yourself from her warmth. "He's an asshole."

"You don't need to tell me twice," you chuckle. Then: "Tell me what happened."

"I think he might be cheating."

The air escapes from you at once. The way Sejeong said it is so casual, almost as if she'd resigned herself to this fate a long time ago. And here you are, trying your best to keep your anger under control, like always. But not for her sake—rather, for yours. You know where your feelings belong, and they have no place in the situation at hand. Not today, and definitely not ever. You take a deep breath and look her square in the eye.

"What did he do?"

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," she laughs nervously. She doesn't want to put any more weight on your shoulders than she already has, because that's who she is, you suppose. But how can she expect you to ignore it when she looks like a sad dog staring into the rain on someone's front porch?

"We're best friends. I want to hear everything," you insist.

"He's been acting differently lately." Sejeong pauses. "Distant. Like there's something he isn't telling me."

"Do you think there might be?" you ask carefully.

"It's always something with work. Or a friend that really needs him. Or a family member or—fuck. I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

Sejeong sighs and runs a hand through her hair. There are unshed tears in her eyes. This bastard is making her cry. You want to smash something, preferably his head.

"I don't wanna bother you with this shit," she whispers. She sounds exhausted.

"Don't say that," you retort softly, squeezing her hand in yours. It's clammy. "Don't ever say that again."

She gives a curt nod.

"God knows I've told you enough about my romantic misadventures over the years," you joke. Your chest tightens when Sejeong lets out the tiniest of laughs. Maybe you can still make this right, whatever this is. "Misery loves company."

"You know," she begins, pausing to look at you properly. There is something unreadable in her gaze, something that you've never seen before. It makes you hold your breath in anticipation of whatever is to come. "If there's one person I could choose to be miserable with, it would be you."

For a brief second, you forget that time exists.

"Well, I'm very honoured," you reply eventually. There's another pause where you ponder what to say next. Then, simply, because that seems like the easiest answer: "Do you want me to go beat him up?"

Sejeong laughs and punches you in the arm.

"I thought you were a pacifist?"

"Yeah, but exceptions must be made sometimes."

She raises an eyebrow at you. You can't tell what she's thinking. "For me?"

"Yes."

It feels like standing on a cliff. You want nothing more than to jump, to feel freefall in your whole body. The only problem is that you'll most certainly die. The ground below is made of jagged rocks and bad ideas. Yet, here you stand, willing to do anything in the world for the beautiful girl next to you. Even if it means lying broken beyond repair.

Sejeong breaks your trance when she explains, "There's this girl he works with. We had dinner together with some people from their office two weeks ago, and... I don't know. They just seemed off. She kept looking at him. You know that look? The one where they linger on someone just a bit too long."

"So that's what gave it away?"

"Well, that and the rumour. They had a thing before he met me. It's over now, or it was." A single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, seemingly irritated at herself. You frown. Sejeong has no reason to be ashamed of being hurt. She should be allowed to shed tears, even buckets full if necessary. You wouldn't judge. "At least that's what he said. He promised me it was over. But... God."

You reach forward to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her lips tremble, so you quickly move your eyes back up. Staring at her lips is dangerous territory.

"You don't deserve this shit," you say resolutely.

Sejeong chuckles sarcastically. "Then why do I keep ending up here?"

That question stings. Not because it's directed at you—it isn't—but rather because you know the answer. Sejeong has been in this kind of position too many times to count. She attracts guys like honey does flies; every single time, with no exceptions. Only the worst seem to make it past the rest. Sejeong gets caught in their deceitful net time and time again, only to inevitably break her heart after months and months of manipulation disguised as devotion.

"Want my honest answer?"

"Yes."

"I think it's because you're the sort of person that believes the best in everyone. And that is a beautiful trait. I love that you do that. I really do. But sometimes..." you trail off, not quite sure how to continue without sounding accusatory.

"Sometimes I get screwed over," Sejeong finishes. You nod in response. "You're right. I guess it's my fault for trusting too easily."

"No," you shake your head. "It's not your fault. That part is absolutely wonderful. It's just..." You're suddenly hesitant. What if Sejeong takes this the wrong way and shuts you out?

"What?" she probes.

"Have you ever heard the expression 'you can't see the tree for the woods'?"

"Sounds stupid."

"It means you can't see what's right in front of your nose," you explain.

Sejeong stares at you for a long time. You think she understands, but it's impossible to know. It would probably be better that way—if she understood and did nothing about it. You aren't supposed to feel this way about her. How many times haven't you imagined what it would be like if things were different? If circumstances were perfect, if her current guy hadn't appeared out of anywhere and swept her off her feet before you'd even realised what was happening.

But that's just your luck.

"Thank you," Sejeong whispers. "Can we, um, watch something? I don't wanna think about this right now."

You let out an awkward cough. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Do you remember when you forced me to watch Twilight, and I spent the entirety of the movie complaining about how terrible it was?"

"You still watched all of them with me." A tiny grin appears on her face. Thank God.

"That was truly the highest form of torture," you joke. "I hope you brought something better today. Please don't tell me you downloaded another movie about sparkly vampires."

Sejeong punches your arm. "I'll have you know I am extremely cultured nowadays."

"Yeah? Show me then."

A couple of hours pass and everything feels decidedly normal. You rest against the arm of the couch and Sejeong rests against you. You make jokes at the expense of the film as you always do and she laughs that soft, carefree laugh of hers. The credits roll and Sejeong sits up, stretching her limbs like a cat after a nap. You smile at the familiarity of it all. For a moment it doesn't matter what she has—or hasn't—been crying over.

"I'm tired," she says. She blinks slowly as if to prove it to herself. It's quite endearing, actually.

"Yeah?" you ask nonchalantly.

"Will you let me stay here tonight?" Her voice is small, unsure. But why? It's not the first time she has stayed here. This place is practically a second home to her.

"Like you need to ask," you retort lightly as you stand up and look down at her.

She opens her mouth to speak, but that's when her phone rings. When she sees his name flashing across the screen, she visibly freezes. Annoyance seeps into you like acid rain. His nerve—to call at such an hour, and expect her to pick up. Sejeong just watches, almost paralyzed, until eventually, she does pick up.

"Hey," is all she says. The reply is much longer. You can't make out the words he's saying but the tone tells you all you need to know.

"I was going to," Sejeong replies tersely. Silence. Then: "I told you already, I went over to—" Pause. She swallows thickly. "You didn't tell me you were going out." A longer stretch of silence, during which his voice gradually increases in volume. Suddenly Sejeong sits bolt upright. Her eyes grow wide with confusion and disbelief.

"Me!?" She shouts. "He's my best friend! I wouldn't—" Another pause. She takes a deep breath. "No. No, that isn't fair. You can't—"

It sounds like he hangs up. Sejeong doesn't move. Her hands are shaking violently.

"Do I even wanna know?"

"I should go home," she murmurs flatly.

"To him? To the guy who's probably just fucked his co-worker?"

Sejeong turns to glare at you, eyes cold as ice. You immediately regret your words.

"I'm sorry," you quickly amend. "That was uncalled for. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" she asks bluntly. Your heartbeat picks up in a hurry. There's anger in her eyes. Anger that could turn against you so quickly.

"Why what?" you reply defensively.

"Why don't you wanna be with anyone? You've rejected every single person who's tried to get close to you since we were sixteen. There's got to be a reason."

The world grinds to a halt. Time, space, and life itself stop existing for a minute while you consider your options. On the one hand, you could lie; come up with a suitable excuse and maybe she won't push for more. On the other hand, you could simply admit to the truth that's haunted you for years.

You open your mouth. Close it. Fuck.

Sejeong stands up, wading in the silence towards you. You can't help but take a step backwards. In that split second, you're sure she knows—and yet you cannot tell.

"Have you ever loved anyone?" Sejeong demands to know.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears. "I don't understand why you're asking me this," you choke out. A part of you wishes you were back there on the cliff. At least then you could've jumped off of your own accord, with a little dignity left intact.

"I need to know," is all Sejeong says. Her gaze is relentless. You hate it. It makes you want to claw your own skin off—and there are truths under there that you plan to take to the grave.

"Why?"

"Because I need to know if what I'm going to do next is the right thing."

She stands beside you now. On the edge of that cliff, though it's starting to feel more like you're on the roof of your car. Staring up at the stars on some forgotten summer night. The jump seems more like a flight.

"I have," you admit. Somehow it seems easier than to try and fight whatever force is controlling the both of you. It feels strangely liberating.

"But you won't allow yourself to do anything about it." You know her well enough to discern a question from a statement, no matter how carefully she might try to veil them as the latter.

"It's complicated," you say quietly. She's so close to you now that you can hear the hitch in her breath. Why is she pushing this? "Why are you doing this?"

Her eyes flit from yours to your lips, then back again. So quickly. One, two. But you saw it. And your entire body tingles in anticipation. You'll dare move away—not now, not when the leap of faith feels more like a hop.

She doesn't say anything else. One more small step and her body collides with yours. Lips press against lips and suddenly, all thought scatters. Sejeong tangles her fingers through your hair and pulls. A gasp escapes you before you regain control and kiss her properly. It's frantic, rushed. Years of pining bleed out with every touch. You grab her, pull her as close to your body as possible, and lose yourself completely. Something is swelling inside you. A feeling so large and uncontainable that you think your chest is going to explode any second.

It is indescribable.

All of it—the sensation of kissing her, holding her—surpasses description. You're falling from that cliff, but she's holding you, and before you can hit the rocks she's dragging you to the couch and climbing on top of you.

It feels unreal. The entire world disappears as your lips find hers again and again and again. You don't care to question what happens after. This moment is yours, forever branded in your memories, and nothing can take that away from you. Even if it ends here—even if she were to walk away now—it would've been worth it. Completely and irrevocably.

When you finally part to catch your breath, you can't help but stare at her in awe. She's so beautiful. A masterpiece. Your hand moves to her cheek almost automatically. Sejeong lets her head fall against it with a soft sigh.

"Wow," she whispers.

"Yeah," you croak.

"Please don't regret this in the morning." Her voice is so quiet, filled with so much pain, that it breaks your heart. Your own fears are secondary.

"I never could," you breathe. Then you lean in to kiss her again, slower this time, savouring every sensation as if it might be the last. By some miracle she responds eagerly, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt as she holds you steady. You have no idea where this leaves the two of you, but you want her closer—now. You reach around and slide your hands under her thighs, pulling gently upwards. She follows your lead, settling against your lap in a way that makes the situation undeniably real.

As you kiss, her hips start moving back and forth. Soft, shallow movements. Little whimpers escape her throat and fall directly into your mouth. Fuck. She moans—actually moans—into the kiss and a violent shiver travels through your whole body. You break away momentarily to look at her face, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes staring back at you.

"Do that again," you whisper against her lips.

"Make me," she pants.

The next kiss is searing, open-mouthed, and accompanied by Sejeong grinding her hips against you. Harder now. Unrelenting. Your hands travel up her waist, slipping beneath her blouse to feel warm skin underneath. You feel every tremble of her body when your fingernails drag lightly across her flesh. A gasp—then she leans backwards, with her arms outstretched and clinging behind your neck, to look you dead in the eye as she continues moving her hips against you.

"Sejeong... What are we—"

"Shh."

Your hands snake further up her shirt. Her back arches in response as she grinds down hard, moaning loudly. Your eyes flutter shut briefly to enjoy the sensations—the sounds—coming from her. You force them open once more because you can't miss this show for anything. You push the shirt up and over her chest. Her hands slip from behind your neck momentarily so that you can get the garment over her head. And then she is there before you, bra and sweatpants-clad, panting softly and waiting.

"Sejeong—"

"Fuck me." It is barely more than a whimper, but it rattles the very core of your being.

"What?"

She lunges forward and kisses you forcefully. There are tears in her eyes—tears you didn't notice until now. Her desperation bleeds through.

"Please," she whispers into your mouth, her voice breaking slightly. "Please."

You can't deny her. How could you? You're unfastening the clasp of her bra and your hands are everywhere on her. Pulling her closer, exploring every inch of bare skin you can get your hands on. Her fingers start unbuttoning your shirt—clumsily, but getting the job done. Once open, her nails dig into your bare shoulders, as if testing out whether you're really here, tangible and real. As if you could disappear at any moment and leave her stranded. A loud groan escapes her when your fingers brush against her nipples.

"You're so fucking beautiful," you murmur into her ear. She whines at the words, nails digging deeper into your skin.

The friction between your legs is driving you mad. You've got the burning urge to pick her up and slam her into the nearest wall, but you savour what you have. First, you kiss her neck, then it's a trail down her collarbones. Your teeth nibble playfully at the skin until she moans, begging you to do something. You obey, leaning in to flick your tongue across a nipple before swirling it around the bud. Her fingers fly into your hair and hold you against her breast.

"Holy shit."

Your mouth latches on tighter. Sucking. Biting. The heat pooling between you grows more intense. Eventually, you detach and move on to the next, eliciting more delicious sounds from the girl above you. All those nights spent fantasising about exactly this don't come close to the real experience. You're supporting her, around the waist and the small of her back, while she leans back in your lap, presenting herself to you.

You appreciate every inch of her slender figure. By eye and then by tongue. You draw constellations along her skin, your touch is feather-light. Across her toned stomach to her hips, then right up the side of her body. She throws an arm above her head and giggles lightly as you lick all the way up underneath it. You follow a path to her armpit. Sejeong giggles more when you begin to nibble there too. When you raise your eyes to meet hers she blushes fiercely.

"Weirdo."

"Just appreciating you," you murmur, pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and up to her neck.

"Mm. I like it," she replies hoarsely.

So you spend some time like this. Appreciating her bare body and making her squirm. Kissing, licking, and biting everything that you can possibly reach until her writhing becomes borderline violent. Then she grabs a hold of your jaw, looks you deep in the eyes, and utters the most sinful words you've ever heard her say.

"Enough teasing. I want to ride your cock now."

Every inch of you lights on fire. From your forehead to the tips of your toes, you feel flames lick at your insides. Sejeong climbs off you without another word and starts pushing her sweats from her hips. You watch, spellbound, as she wiggles out of them. Her panties follow suit.

Then she turns to face you. Standing fully nude, absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word. A goddess. Every bit as perfect as you had imagined. Even your fantasies weren't this good; nowhere near as intoxicating as this moment right now.

"You have ten seconds before I sit on your face instead," she deadpans, you both laugh. At least she hasn't lost her humour.

You unbuckle your belt and shuffle them down as best you can while still seated. Enough that she can reach down and pull your cock free from its confines. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when she wraps her slim fingers around it. Pumping up and down. You're hard already, unbelievably so, and when she drags her thumb across the head of your dick it actually twitches. You suck in a deep breath, willing yourself to focus.

And then she sits on your lap, sliding along the length of your cock. Fuck. She repeats it a few times. Back and forth, slicking your cock with her wetness.

"I always pictured this," she admits.

"Really?" you croak.

"God yeah, I remember back in college. I must have rubbed one out to you more times than I can count." She smirks at you then—a wicked smirk that makes your entire body shiver. A filthy admission to you and you only. She does it again, drags her wetness along you. How on earth are you supposed to remain composed when she says things like that and does things like this? You wrap an arm around her back and pull her closer, staring at her as if seeing her for the very first time.

"You can't say things like that, I'm gonna—"

She cuts you off with her tongue in your mouth. Kissing you like it's the last thing she'll ever do, and your lips the only form of sustenance she'll ever need. It gives way to her frantic little moan, desperate and unrestrained. For the life of you you can't comprehend what is happening, only react, and fuck if it isn't the most incredible experience you've ever had. Her skin is burning against yours, hungry and yielding to your every touch.

Sejeong shifts slightly and grabs a hold of you properly. Your eyes widen when the tip of your dick brushes against something wet, warm, and soft. The very centre of her. She repositions herself, now holding you carefully against her, and then... slides down the length of your cock, pausing halfway down. The pleasure is so acute that you cannot control the way your back arches off the couch, and neither do you control the profanities that spill out from your lips.

A sinful grin spreads across her face. As her legs are pinned around your waist, you cannot move, but Sejeong certainly can. And boy, does she know how. She starts bouncing herself up and down, riding you so expertly and looking so good doing it. You've thought of this so many times—having sex with your best friend, of all people—but you did not picture it like this.

"This okay?" she murmurs in your ear. You hear the smile in her voice.

You utter the only word you can muster: "Yes."

She laughs airily, placing a kiss on your temple as she continues her rhythm. When she moans—a long, drawn-out moan, half-pained, half-pleasured—and throws her head back, you stare up at her, eyes drinking in the beauty that is in a position so incredibly vulnerable yet completely in control. How you long to capture this moment and keep it somewhere safe forever. She looks down at you now. Her heavy-lidded eyes pin you to your spot as much as the physical manifestation of her pinned against your skin. She traces her fingers down your jaw, your neck, and the top of your chest.

"I wish he could see me now," Sejeong hisses, anguish evident in her voice.

"You look so fucking good."

"He doesn't know what he had," she laughs bitterly. "Fuck him."

"Fuck him," you echo. Sejeong smirks and moves her hips more fluidly. Goddamn. Her tight little cunt feels so perfect clenched around your cock.

She watches your face closely as she keeps riding you. As you keep clutching her hips and help her along, grinding deeper. Groaning when she throws her hips forward faster and faster. Her cunt is so hot and tight. She sucks at the life seeping out of your pulsating cock and squeezes it with her inner muscles in ways that no one has ever done before. Sometimes she pulls completely off you, her breath shuddering as you twitch, only to take you deep inside her again.

Your hands have a mind of their own, sneaking upwards to grip her neck. You give it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get her attention. All the while you're staring intensely into her eyes. They've become glassy, intoxicated, more than just wanting but longing for it. Her voice is hoarse, strained, as she says, "How have I been so stupid? All this time—you're right here, and I never—"

"It doesn't matter. None of that matters."

"You're so—fuck."

Her body trembles and she falls forward onto you. She's gripping your arms, nails sinking into your flesh. Sejeong's breath grows increasingly laboured. After a long string of expletives, she lets her head rest on your shoulder as you snake an arm around her back and support her. Her whole body is rigid, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

"Never felt this good," she forces the words out amid moans as you buck your hips up into her, picking up the slack as she begins to falter. The rhythm is quick now, urgent, filled with unbridled passion and everything left unspoken for too long.

When Sejeong cums, you feel it all around you—her pussy quivering, leaking her arousal around you, dripping down your thighs and saturating you, almost drowning in the intensity. It makes her moan into the crook of your neck and rock her hips, fucking herself while trying desperately to quiet the sounds of her ecstasy against your body. But that is unthinkable, to silence someone like that, and you tell her so. Whispering the filthiest things in her ear as she throbs around your cock, dragging out the last tremors of pleasure of her orgasm as much as you possibly can. She spills everything out into your shoulder, every word, every whimper. Until at last, you can feel her sagging in your lap, breathing heavily and spent.

"Keep going," she pants, tightening her grip on your arm. "Don't stop."

She throws herself to the side, pulling you with her, and somehow lands flat on her back with your body on top of her. You wince at the sudden shift. But not for long. Because Sejeong opens her legs wide, hooks her calves around your hips, and tells you again not to stop.

You smirk and lean forward, trapping her beneath your body and capturing her lips in a sensual kiss. It is deliberate, lingering. Her arms fly up and tangle themselves through your hair, locking you together. When your tongues meet, you sigh deeply against her. There is a warmth settling over you. Languid, dream-like. Like you're both floating through clouds, carried away by the sweetest of breezes.

There is nowhere else in the world that you would rather be than right here, between her legs.

You rock into her, once, then twice, each time more intense than the last. The angle is entirely different. You grab a hold of one of her legs and hitch it up a bit, allowing yourself to thrust deeper inside her.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm. Move slower. Nice and slow," she instructs.

And you do. Eventually, a hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck. Sejeong stares into your eyes and your breath catches. Then you're kissing, again and again, but there is not so much desperation and anger anymore, but something else. It is the feel of her hips meeting yours, the way you press your bodies together, the softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth. Her breaths rush from her lips to yours, from hers into you.

Sweat starts to bead at your temples as you rock into her. Slow, deep, patient strokes. It is not desperate fucking anymore, or an attempt to pour all of your heartbreak into some meaningless action. It's almost reverential—the way you're holding each other, soft and sure. A sweet torture, a sublime suffering, for as long as time allows.

You don't talk. Your mouths say nothing, at least. With your bodies, however, your fingertips whisper praise against her skin. Spirits float free and serenade each other. Sounds escape her that you haven't even dreamed of. Broken, wanton, as if wrenched out of her. They rise above and meet in a higher plane of reality, where two minds are one.

It takes time. A slow build to the crescendo. You know when you've struck the final note by the way she cries out, over and over again, her pretty little hole convulsing, spasming around your cock. She wants to squirm away but has nowhere to go. You refuse to let her. You smile against her neck and sink your teeth into the skin there.

Soon you follow, groaning her name into the warm flesh. It's a flood—your insides are melting, pouring out from your loins and into her heat, her insides contracting, trapping every ounce inside. Hot, sticky, yours. This feeling. It is as if your heart has grown wings, a phoenix born anew from the ashes of who you used to be. You don't have to be lost anymore. She will carry you, always, her fingernails tracing patterns in your damp skin. There is nothing to fear.

Sejeong whines and moans softly as you fill her. One more careful thrust and you still, collapsing on top of her as the waves subside. All the while she is there, stroking the back of your neck and quietly reciting every piece of filth that she can think of.

You wonder whether this will last longer than the night.

God. Would you be okay with that?

When you eventually move back to look at her, to make sure she's okay, there are tears in her eyes. Uncertainty overwhelms you. Before you can react, before you can ask what is wrong, Sejeong cups your cheek. "Thank you," she whispers, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. This girl. All these years. All the wasted time. It feels right being with her; everything is finally where it should have been all along.

"You were worth the wait," you breathe. You place a kiss against her brow before rolling off and settling next to her.

"Do you..." Her voice fades. She runs a finger along your collarbone, eyes anywhere but yours. "Do you want this to be a one-time thing?

"No," you answer without hesitation. You catch her hand in yours, entangling your fingers, willing her to understand everything that you're unable to tell her.

Sejeong smiles. Genuine, unapologetic. For the first time in months, she looks happy. Fuck him, indeed. "Good," she says with a soft laugh that evaporates any of her lingering doubts. Her eyes flick to your lips and she whispers, "So, uh, we've got some lost time to make up for."

"Yeah?" you whisper while rolling her back over and climbing over her. "If there's a debt to be paid..." You start trailing kisses down her neck, down her sternum, grinning at the tiny shivers it elicits. "What better time than now?"

Your kisses lead you over her toned stomach. Once you reach the juncture between her thighs, you pick up her leg and set it over your shoulder. Sejeong is already squirming, anticipating what is to come. You take a look at her—mussed hair and flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, beautiful, tempting. It feels almost gratuitous—that you're able to see her like this. It makes you pull her even closer, and stick your tongue into her center. Her upper body lifts almost immediately and her eyes fly open. A shaky whimper leaves her lips.

She's right. There is a lot of catching up to do. Luckily for her, there's still the whole night ahead of you and a lot more you'd like to show her.

[prettyg1irlstears]

i js saw ur pillow princess reader x rafe blurb n its amazing !!

but how would rafe x gf!reader be when rafes friends have been bringing up about how it feels good when ‘the girl takes charge’ but she gets upset n self conscious cs she literally cant, shes js a pillow princess at heart !! she wld constantly ask rafe if shes good enough in bed, if its fine she cant ride him like his friends have been showing off :(((

first of all thank you!!<33 second of all i’m so sorry if i’m answering late, but i hope you’ll like it<3

softbf!rafe x sub!reader

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you’re in the large living room of tannyhill, a pretty sundress on while sitting of your boyfriend’s lap, listening to the conversation between him and his mates.

you were telling rafe that you’ll come tomorrow, that it’s fine if he wants to have a ‘all bro evening’, but rafe insisted on you staying, so you did, because you’re his good girl.

so here you are, playing with rafe’s fingers as the boys don’t bother to acknowledge or respect your presence and talk about their girls.

“bro, my girl’s wildin’ when she takes charge,” kelce boasted, smirking as he took a swing of his beer. “doin’ all the work, feels so good.”

your chest tugs anxiously, slightly squeezing rafe’s fingers as you listen.

“yea i feel ya, man,” topper adds, grinning as he high-fives kelce. “wish you could see the way sarah moves on me ‘cause like goddamn..”

you feel yourself getting uncomfortable, partly because they’re talking about their girlfriends like they were a piece of meat, but mostly because you know you’ll forever be a pillow princess.

“yo, top,” rafe feels jow uncomfortable you are, stroking your silky hair lovingly, thinking it’s just because the conversation’s too much for you. “it’s my sister, man, don’t be gross,”

“sorry bro, not my fault she’s freaky,” topper sneers, kelce chuckling along with him.

you withdrawn a little bit, nuzzling into rafe’s chest as your mind runs a marathon. you were never able to take charge, especially in bed. you and rafe tried it a few times, but you always get all shy and embarrassed, just simply not finding it in yourself to be dominant. but now, after you heard the boys’ conversation, you feel even worse than ever.

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“you okay, baby?” rafe asks you softly. the boys have already left, you’re now helping rafe clean the beer cans and pizza boxes. he has noticed something’s off — he always does.

“mm good ray, just tired.” you fake a yawn and give him a small smile.

that seems to make rafe calmer, maybe he just doesn’t want to press you. he comes over to you, placing his hands on your waist. “can we still do sum’ or are you like really tired?”

you chuckle and look up at him. “no we can still do something.” because even though you still feel bad, you can still feel a little wet spot making itself in your panties just from that one simple sentence.

rafe smiles and kisses you, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your butt. “alright let’s get to bed, hm?”

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you thought it would make your mind go elsewhere, like always, but even when you’re a moaning mess under the muscular body of your boyfriend, you’re still thinking about it.

“what’s the matter, bunny?” rafe grunts into your neck as he kisses it, giving you long and deep thrusts.

“n-no, no!” you let out in a whimper, squeezing his shoulders. “please don’t stop.”

rafe smirks, slowing his pace even more as he bites on a soft spot of your neck. “then what is it?”

you whimper at that, but you can’t keep your worries inside anymore. “am i good enough for you?” as soon as these words leave your mouth, rafe stops, stilling inside of you, making you let out a small whimper of disapproval.

“baby.. baby look at me, will ya?” he gently takes your chin in his hand, making you look up into his eyes.

you look, his hand caressing your cheek as you look up at him with those puppy eyes of yours.

“why would you ask that?” he asks, his voice soft as he has no idea where this is coming from. “of course you are, you always were and always will, baby.”

“because i can’t ride you.. can’t make you feel good..” you say quietly, tears welling up in your eyes. “mm sorry rafe, i just can’t..”

“hey, hey, look at me, baby..” he makes you look at him again, his hands running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “that’s perfectly fine, bunny. you’re perfect, i swear to god,”

you’re looking into his eyes, nervously playing with his curtain bangs. “are you sure? ‘cause i felt really bad earlier..”

rafe chuckles a little, kissing your forehead. “baby, don’t listen to those two pricks. can’t appreciate their girls like i can apprexiate mine.”

he kisses your lips softly, slowly starting to move inside you again. “i love you being my little pillow princess.” he grunts at the movements, earning a tiny moan from you. “wouldn’t change for anything, baby.”

“you mean it..?” you ask, leaving out tiny whimpers as he moves slowly yet deeply, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“absolutely,” he whispers, kissing your lips while leaving out small moans. “don’t have any idea what you do to me like this.”

“alright..” you feel a shy smile growing on your lips, tugging on his hair as his tip hits that one spot inside you. “r-rafe.. please.. faster..”

“faster, yeah?” rafe smirks, increasing his pace, holding the side of your neck, earning sweet little moans from you that make his cock twitch inside of you.

“don’t need ya to take charge, baby..” he lets out a pretty moan into your ear. “js’ fucking you like this is enough for me to go absolutely crazy.”

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