#they got the tattoos after double life :)

[thetismcave]

Another dramatic drabble with some more headcanons

Session 7 spoilers :)

It really is an apocalypse, Scott thought, watching the carnage from atop the cliffs.

The world had gone mad. The plateau below was splattered with blood, and death was spreading like an infection through the ranks of the players.

He was hiding in his own base, from his own teammates. Maybe it was stupid to keep hanging around, but he knew this place well, and he was pretty sure they didn’t think he’d come back. He’d nearly been killed getting chased out by his own teammate, for fucks sake.

He’d gone to ground after that, but he knew that without info he was a sitting duck. So, here he was, on one of his increasingly rare ventures to the surface, crouching in a tree and watching the grasslands below.

When Cleo dug through their wall, he couldn’t help but be relieved. His instinctive reaction was affirmed when they, treading just as lightly as he was, showed no signs of hostility or of alerting the hunters.

“Hi,” he grinned at her.

“Hi, hi!” They replied, a stressed little laugh in their voice as they creeped through the new opening.

“What’s happening? Why is there a Warden now?” Scott asked softly as she filled in the wall behind herself.

“They’re trying to get me,” she grimaced, easing into a crouch beside him, sheltered under the trees. “As the last- the last green.”

Scott hummed a tense reply, leaning against the rough bark of the oak, slowly creeping further into his- the base.

“Gem also has no band loyalty anymore,” he said nonchalantly, not looking at Cleo, “Because she died, came back as a red, and tried to kill me. So, I had to flee. I’ve been skulking around my own base all day.”

He said it offhandedly, like it was just another anecdote. Like it was an interesting tidbit instead of a near deadly betrayal.

He knew they could see right through him.

She knew what was genuinely laidback and what was a coverup. She knew how much he hated this, how deeply his loyalty ran.

“Widow’s Alliance?” She offered, holding out her arm. The shifting moonlight hit a tattoo, a blue rope winding down the inside of her wrist, its end frayed and orange. He’d known it was there. It’s partner was on his arm, after all. He could barely see his own now, however. The lava from his latest capital ‘D’ Death had burned away most of the skin on his arms. It was there though, the orange strands twisting along his forearm, just a little buried by scar tissue.

(The care was still there too, even though at the start they’d promised to go their separate ways. Even though their bond had been tried by nearly five of these damned games.)

If there was one constant in this mess, it was Cleo, and he could really use a damn anchor right now. He trusted her, and he hoped the feeling was mutual.

“I guess so.” He took her forearm, and the frayed ends of their ties met.

Later, after they joined up with BigB, the infected began closing in again. As they took shelter behind the walls, Scott let the other two know about his makeshift bunker, the one not even his teammates knew about.

“You know me, I’m not gonna go after you.” Cleo said, casually, as if it was a given, a law of nature that he could show her his secrets, his backup plans, without fear. And really, it was, wasn’t it? Even if Cleo didn’t have clear memories of the games before, they knew, somehow, that they could put their back to his and be defended.

He’d wondered sometimes if Cleo, ever the survivor, trusted him as implicitly as he trusted them. As they descended into the mines, he realized that now he knew. Even if neither of them realized it, they were each other’s safety net, a soft place to fall that went beyond alliances, or games, or even memories.

And even though they were being hunted, even though the rest of the world was baying for their blood, Scott felt, impossibly, like they could weather anything this apocalypse could throw at them.

[bunny-jpeg]

the jailbird

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

a full fic based on this post

cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!

it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.

you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.

that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.

but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.

the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.

you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.

you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.

simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.

he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.

you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.

the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.

he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.

he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."

he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.

simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.

"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."

simon remembered everything.

the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.

"i want to be what you get ready to."

"i want to be with you when you wake up."

"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."

you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.

and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.

you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!

it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.

and then you saw him.

those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.

you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."

he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."

you beamed up at him, "of course, si."

"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."

you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.

but tonight was just going to be the two of you.

you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.

you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.

"si."

"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.

your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.

he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.

you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.

you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.

it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.

you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.

after everything, you had your man.

he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.

you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."

"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.

you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.

"are you alright, love?"

"golden."

the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.

you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.

"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."

you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.

he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."

you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.

the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.

you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.

he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.

you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.

he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.

you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."

he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."

part two

[stevebabey]

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3 | ao3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

[backwzzds]

Toji getting out jail and showing us some appreciation 🙈🙈

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ daddy’s home, toji fushiguro (nsfw)

omg bc prison bf!toji would be something interesting.

the story would be that before prison, toji was the ORIGINAL scammer. all these mfs his sons forreal. of course with being a hired professional hitman, it came with its financial perks, all of which he’d used to spoil his pretty little princess.

you lived comfortably well. you’d known toji since he was just a bum scrounging for any type of work, so you actually got to see the come up frfr. though you’ve always loved him from the start (even when he was broke), he was nearly 10 years older than you. just in your early twenties, you always told him—you did not deserve any type of struggle love. and a struggle life toji lived indeed. you assured him that if he was really about you the way he always swore he was—he’d do whatever he could to support for you.

and support for you he did!

it wasn’t anything about being a gold digger—you just had standards. toji chased after you for years and you loved it—but you knew you deserved better when he couldn’t even take care of himself. by the graces of whoever allowed him to stumble upon a secret job that could land him 1 mil cash—500 upfront as a deposit and the rest later—toji was yours the moment he proved to you he could take care of you indefinitely.

ass ironic as this sounds, he was actually arrested on false charges. the nature of the charges were true on everything—but the actual person they were accusing him of executing and murdering, he simply did not do. the courts didn’t care though, they just needed someone to hang for it and make an example out of them. that led to toji being sentenced to life in prison.

but thanks to his crooked ass lawyer, the piece of shit was out in 6 years.

you nervously tapped your acrylic nails on the pink wrap of your car as you leaned against the passenger side of the door. it seemed as if today was release day for a few other prisoners, seeing as a group of men walked out with plastic bags, all while staring you down. your arms remained crossed over your fat tits barely being able to breathe in the baby tee you wore to accompany your long flowy skirt as you awaited for your own man to re-enter the world again.

the minute another person leaves the building, your eyes meet with the familiar man’s. it was almost as if your energy was instantly drawn to his, because you immediately recognized him off the bat. toji is blown away by your beauty. you were always fine, but damn, watching you outside of a bulletproof plexi glass was top tier when he finally got to see your fuller ass and pudgy stomach in person again.

the second he’s in your vicinity again, instead of doing the normal thing like hugging him—you slapped the shit out of him.

“ow’!” toji groans. “fuck was that for?!” the old man rubs the spot you hit him in, giving you a fearful look. toji didn’t fear anyone or anything, but you had to be at the top of that list, especially when you were upset.

you give him a knowing look with your hands on your hips. toji rolls his eyes and grips your waist, “tch, i told ya i didn’t do that shit!” he groaned, referencing the one crime he was actually innocent for. “but with all the trouble that dead bastard put me through, wish it was me.”

you mirror his previous actions and do a double take in his physique. you weren’t the only one who got finer. toji’s waist got smaller—probably from starving himself like you told the fucker not to—but his build was more muscular, yet lean. he had an unimaginable number of new tattoos hidden under his normal clothes, and you couldn’t even think about what more laid hidden beneath his thick jeans.

toji fully notices your gawking eyes and gives you a cocky smirk with the scar on his lip fully rising. “miss me mama?” a smile can’t help but form on your own lips as you embrace him in a tight hug. not feeling the love enough, toji wraps his arms underneath you, fully lifting you from the ground. with your legs now around his waist, you were finally face to face with the man of your life.

toji leans into you and pecks your lip ever so lightly. with the sun in his view, he still got the best look of just how perfect you really were. “i missed ya,” he says so low, you barely catch it. “missed ya so much. went crazy dozens of times from you not being with me.”

it was strange for toji to be so vulnerable. but his time under made him realize just how ungrateful he really was for all the great things in his life. how ungrateful he really was for you. he vowed that when he did get out—if ever—he wouldn’t waste a minute without reminding you how he felt about his little girl.

with a proud smile on your face, you run your manicured thumb over the callous of his aging skin. you kiss the small scars there and then his lips. snuggling your head in his neck, you whisper, “let’s go home daddy.”

and that was how you ended up here, face down and ass up into your own mattress.

“you gonna tell daddy you missed him yet?” toji grunted while thrusting in and out of you. the ripples of your fat ass had him in a trance. “been almost seven years since i been in this pretty pussy’a yours. think i deserve at least that, baby.”

you whine into your pillow, drool pooling from the sides of your mouth. you wanted to play stubborn; let toji know that if he ever went to jail for something so stupid again, he wasn’t gonna see you or your pussy he loved so much.

your silence results in a hard slap to your ass. “ahh!” you yelp out, leaning forward into your white duvet. with another harsh smack and then the smooth rubbing of his large hand, toji smirked at the reddening imprint forming on the terrain of your pretty brown ass. “this ain’t about you!” you can’t help but seethe out to his previous statement. your voice is muffled by the fluff of your pillow, “i suffered these last seven years. not you.”

toji slows in his movements. you were so right. he knew how much you longed for him. your big hunky man that walked the streets with you 24/7 was no longer by your side to protect you like he usually did. he left you open. he left you vulnerable. though he’s had his people, geto and gojo watching over you, it wasn’t enough, you constantly slept in fear. you walked in fear. you lived in fear.

you didn’t know why, but suddenly all the emotion you felt in the past seven years came flooding to you. tears flowed from your eyes and you were crying. but from the pulsing grip your pussy had around his dick, toji knew you wanted more.

“look at me,” toji’s voice is muffled. when you made no effort to move, too ashamed to rven be crying at a time like this, toji pulls out of you and softly grabs you by the hips, turning you over so that your back was no against the mattress and you were facing him.

swiftly, the older man slides back into you, but this time moves inside you with more care. toji’s body is so close to yours, your hard nipples are brushing against his own with every thrust he makes.

“‘m sorry,” toji whispers with every rut into you. “daddy’s so sorry baby. didn’t mean to abandon you the way i did.” you could hear the genuineness in his tone as he stops fucking you, but begins to make love to you. “can’t imagine how scared you must’a been these past few years. haven’t been taking care of you the way i promised all those years ago.”

more tears flow from your eyes as toji brings you to your building orgasm slowly. “know you can’t forgive me for being so stupid ‘n careless now. ‘s gonna take some time. i know that. but jus’ lemme in again mama. let daddy back into your heart ‘n i promise i’ll take acre of you again.”

“daddy,” you sob. “‘m close,” is the only words that could leave your mouth. “don’t leave me, please. ‘m so close.” you were begging to cum, but deep down toji knew you were also begging him to stay.

toji brings his hand down to your pretty pussy and rubs at your clit as his lips engulf in yours. with just a few touches, you were creaming over his fingers and crying into his mouth.

“never gonna leave you again, mama. daddy’s home now.”

[burningembers91]

A Voice Like Honey - Kang Dae-Ho x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Kang Dae-Ho doesn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. After running from the life his father had planned for him, he meets you. But he can’t seem to find the words to tell you how he feels

Kang Dae-Ho had always been more of a lover than a fighter. He’d never enjoyed playing Call of Duty or watching violent movies like his friends did. He always steered clear of the fights that broke out in school, or the rough games kids played in the schoolyard. He was scared of pretty much everything - the dark, snakes, spiders, the feeling of going upstairs and thinking someone or something is chasing after you. Dae-Ho would rather sit and daydream all day, and spent many a day dreaming about the life he’d lead one day. he was a talented musician, able to play any song after hearing it only once. His voice was like soft, warm caramel, and he was never short of girls hanging onto his every lyric.

But the life of an artist wasn’t the life his dad had in mind for him. He was a proud army veteran and had served his country for many years, just as his father had, and his father before him. Dae-Ho was the only son he had, and his father expected, or rather insisted that Dae-Ho follow in his father’s footsteps. A musician was no life for his son, and it would be the greatest dishonour to be made a fool of.

So Dae-Ho enlisted for his mandatory service in the military as soon as he left school. He thought that’s what his father wanted. He figured that after he’d served his duty to his country, he’d be free to pursue music. Dae-Ho hated his time in the military. The sound of gunfire terrified him, the late nights and early mornings, the extreme physical toughness almost broke him. But he father expected more, expected him to carry on once his mandatory service was over. Every day he would press leaflets and phone numbers into his son’s hands, send him advertisements for open days with the army and marines. Dae-Ho had never been able to stand up to his tyrant of a father, so he begrudgingly attended an interview with the marines. He was cleared for basic training, and his father was over the moon. But Dae-Ho couldn’t do it. The thought of returning to a place that still gave him nightmares was more than he could take. Instead of enlisting, Dae-Ho packed his bag and ran. He had money saved up, and he wanted to see the world.

He started in America, then moved to Europe, staying over in hostels and motels. He made lifelong friends, played his music in pubs and bars in tiny towns and villages. He grew his hair, tattooed his body, did everything he knew his father would disapprove of. When his money began to dwindle, he returned to Seoul, taking up a job in a bar that allowed him to sing a few nights a week. It didn’t make him much money, but it made him happy.

The bar was where he met you, another fellow songwriter with a voice like honey. He got lost in your words, your voice carrying him on a wave of emotion he’d never felt before. You sang together a few times, your voices in perfect harmony as your double act packed out the bar.

Dae-Ho had been with his fair share of women while travelling, but none of them made him feel like you did. He was like a nervous schoolboy around you, tripping over his words. But when the two of you sang, it was like you were made for each other. Each night, he tried to gather the courage to ask you out. He would walk you to your apartment, but could never seem to find the words to express his feelings.

You were perfect in every way, but Dae-Ho had always been a coward. He was too scared to tell his dad why he ran away, and he was too scared to tell you how he felt. He hadn’t spoken to his family in 18 months, too terrified to face them after disappointing them so badly. So he spent his nights at the bar, singing and serving drinks, and watching the woman with the voice of an angel, wondering when he’d be brave enough to bare his soul to her.

[akazzzaa]

Were / are they a Virgin?

Summery- Where they a virgin when they where humans? are they still ?

Genre- Smut. MDNI

Warnings- Talks of sex, masturbation.

Human Muzan

Was a virgin- He didn’t get married. He had a wealthy family but never found a wife. He was born with a frail body so even if he did have a wife-he couldn't. Or at least it would be very bad experience putting sex off for him. Although he never had a big “desire” to have sex- he still was curious about it and often masturbated as a human.

Demon Muzan

Not a virgin- Don't really need to explain- but he's had sex a lot. He likes it, but can live without it. He has other things to focus on so he doesn't seek sex a lot. Sex does come naturally to him though anyway. He's a 'young' good looking man after all. Who often manipulates women and people to get what he wants. If he has to play Husband and a Oiran, he will.

He has also had sex in his female form.

Human Kokushibo

Not a virgin-His first and last was with his wife. He had a duty as a man to produce heirs and that was it to him. He did like sex, but was very insecure. He was emotionally unavailable I suppose, and never expressed himself.

Demon kokushibo

Virgin. He remembers his past life and know how sex works, but he doesn’t see humans as equals- only as cattle. He’s not opposed to it though, he’s seen plenty of humans that are pleasing to the eye and would like to indulge in. But never acted on it.

Human Douma

Not a virgin. Was never married or had plans to - but he was good looking and had different features that made him more 'exotic' so a lot of people where curious, and so was he. He didn't have a lot of sex due to being so busy - only problem he faced was that people fell in love with him after they had sex. He never felt that.

Daemon Douma

Not a virgin. He has toyed with men and women and finds it entertaining, plus it does feels good. People who have had sex with him don't really live to tell anyone else. There are a few who live. Doesn't actively seek sex but he can tell when a humans wants him. He will also use the art of seduction to get what he wants too.

Human Akaza

Virgin. He was planning on marring Koyuki and was waiting for their special night. He never thought he would- having tattoos of a criminal over his body has made him feel worthless so he had a lot of doubt about finding love. Him and Koyuki had kissed a lot but that's as far as it went.

Demon Akaza

Double virgin. He never feels the desire for sex. He only wants to get stronger. All he does is follows Muzans orders, train and eat.

Human Hantengu

Not a virgin- Has had wife's. No idea if any kids have come out of it but there where attempts.

Demon Hantengu

Virgin? Maybe the lust clone has had sex but the other clones and himself? Virgins.

Human Gyokko

Virgin

Demon Gyokko

DOUBLE VIRGIN

Human Gyutaro

Virgin. Women would scream at the sight of him. Not only because he was ugly but had bad hygiene, malnourished and weak. He was fighting everyday of his life. Never thought about it.

Demon Gyutaro

Virgin. Only as a demon he got curious and had the desire for it, he hasn't tried to have sex cause he know he will just get laughed at which will result in someone's death.

Human Nakime

Not a virgin. She had a husband in her human life but never had kids with him.

Demon Nakime

Virgin. Doesn't have the desire to have sex.

[nieceeee]

ONYANKOPON MASTERLIST

My one stop shop for this fine chocolate man. Content in purple is NSFW so minors DNI please and thank you!

UPDATED: 1/29/25

SERIES:

BESTFRIEND!ONY X READER

"ALWAYS MINE"

-bestfriend!ony x reader, your friends are confused on exactly how far this relationship goes. And it doesn’t help that they come over and you’re walking out of his bedroom

"BESTFRIENDS"

-Bestfriend!ony x reader have been friends for years. They do everything together from matching outfits to matching tattoos. But is Ony getting to close to his friend?

“SOUNDS OF FRIENDSHIP”

-PS: Bestfriend!ony always sneaks and checks on you every night as a part of his nighttime routine. But this one night, Ony hears something he definitely shouldn’t have. Yet, he can’t seem to pull himself away.

“GOOD MORNING BEST FRIEND”

P/S: What happens the next morning after you and Ony's encounter...

"WANNA BE"

P/S: “Not trynna hear you tell nobody that I’m just a friend. Just trynna make sure I’m the body that you call your man…” Ony is your best friend and its been that way for years. He was your safe haven as much as you were his. You've always shared a connection with one another that many didn't understand. But recently Ony has been struggling with his feelings for you. Things that he used to feel don't quite feel the same anymore. And he's forced to come to terms with reality...

ONE SHOTS:

"ALL THE THINGS"- Boyfriend Ony- angst, fluff, smut

- P/S: Most of your life your relationships have been transactional. You learned early on that nothing you get comes for free, especially with me. It was always a give and take. So when you got with Ony, you expected the same things. For every gift he got you, you made sure to double it because that's how the game goes right? Well Ony wasn't having that. He was going to get it through to you by any means necessary...

"For The 1st Time"- Arranged marriage- angst, fluff

-P/S: You knew that this was your destiny. From the time you were born. Ony knew it as well. But the problem...neither of you knew each other. Ony was set to be one of the most powerful men in his industry and to solidify that, your father promised you to him. But how the hell was he supposed to marry someone he's never met...

"My Little Secret"- Ony x reader - angst, smut

-You and Ony had never really solidified your relationship with one another. It was all "my man my man my man" when yall were alone but in public, nobody knew the dirty little secret you shared. Not even Ony's little girlfriend. So when he pulls up to the party with her on his arm, will you be able to keep that secret under wraps? If he doesn't tell, you won't tell..

"SPIN"- ony x reader - smut

-"Ass or tits?" was the question asked of him. "Titties all day. Yall can keep that other shit." Ony has always been an assertive man. He knew what he liked and what he didn't like. He knew what turned him on and what he pulled away from. He was always certain in his decisions. That was until you came along. The moment you stepped into his life, everything Ony swore he wasn't interested in was flipped upside down...

"MATTERS OF THE HEART" - fluff

-"pro athlete character who gets featured on a tiktok for the team where the social media manager asks to see what’s in the players’ lockers. he opens up his and everyone is shocked to see stick figure drawings from y’alls kids & printed out selfies of him, you, and your kids. the domestic display is so different from his in-game personality that it almost feels like a prank, but when questioned further, he just tells the viewers, “my locker is full of reminders for who im playing and winning for."

“I WONT BITE UNLESS YOU LIKE.” - smut

P/N: Ony’s life was everything he dreamed it would be. His dream career. A community he loved and who loved him. He had it all. So how the hell did he end up damn near losing everything when he met you?...

DRABBLES:

"ITS 7PM FRIDAY" - Ony's reaction to you singing Gloriila TGIF

"BOUNDARIES" - Bestfriend!ony who doesn’t know the meaning of personal boundaries and by doesn’t know I mean he doesn’t give two fucks.

"PERIOD PROBLEMS" - How your best friend acts when you're on your period.

SMAU:

"GIVE ME 5" "PT 2" - The guys are wondering what's taking Ony so long to get on the game.

"SEND ME MY BABY" - Ony wants pics of his baby girl

“PICS OR IT DIDNT HAPPEN” - You're wondering where your man went. Turns out he was just was just at the gym...

“COFFEE” - Ony brings you back a sweet treat after last night…

[jarofstyles]

Robins Egg - Indigo 8

…. Hi. It’s been 800 years but I realized I never posted this update! So here we are.

Check out our Patreon for early access and over 200+ exclusive writings, with multiple updates a week!

WC- 4.8k

Warnings- slight angst, fluff, Mention of anxiety, H being slightly oblivious

Harry wasn’t real, Y/N thinks. She was a bit stumped.

While she had read a lot of romance novels, as a self proclaimed member of the book community, she hadn’t ever expected any of that to come true. Sure, it was nice to read, but men like that didn’t exist. The butterflies she got reading them had been more than enough, but she was finding that the more time she spent with Harry that she preferred real life over her story books.

It was just… odd. Not in a bad way, but the things he did had her doing a double take. Venmoing her for the cookie ingredients, paying for the pizza, texting her good morning and good night, checking in on her tattoo, even sending her a bunch of sunflowers when she had woken up in a shit mood and let him know. They were so early in it and she had become a bit nervous.

It felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop. The tension, the knowing it's too good to be true. It wasn’t like he was absolved of fault. He was a little possessive, he was a bit of a workaholic, he was hard on himself, he was a little pessimistic, a little cold, rigid but these were all things she could deal with. But there was just something making her nervous. It had never been this good for her and her cynical side was trying to come out, trying to rear its ugly head and leave a brown smear on this pretty new relationship tied up in a silky red ribbon with pristine white wrapping.

She had been so wrong about him, it was insane. He wasn’t any of the things she had assumed, at least not to her. He was still a bit of a snarly asshole but she was never at the receiving end of it. Their date had blown her mind, how he had been so down to earth with her, how he had kissed her so thoroughly and left with a swagger in his walk, how he left her wanting more. It was strange for her to yearn for someone so much, to want to be around a man more than she had experienced in the past. She feared becoming clingy as it progressed, addicted to the intoxicating kisses and the spice of his cologne, the roughness of the calluses on his hand and his deep voice talking in the cajoling whispers that he had given her a little taste of.

For all intents and purposes, Y/N was realizing she was fucked. Absolutely ruined.

H: Hey, I’m on my way. Do you need me to stop for anything else? Xxx

Y/N: No :) I’ve got everything! Just come on in when you’re here. It’s unlocked. Xxxx

From the beating going on in her chest, she knew she was in for a ride tonight.

After their night making cookies, they’d had a few more dates. All of which he had been a gentleman. They’d made out, he’d felt her up, but he didn’t push for more. It wasn’t something she was used to. All her past experiences had rushed the sexual bits of it and she sort of felt like she was doing something wrong even though she knew she wasn’t. Harry teased her, making her feel hot but backed off shortly after only to be soft and gentle with her. It was confusing and she craved more but it was difficult to know how to push. He’d told her that he wanted to take time with her, that he wanted to do this right because he liked her a lot, but how long was it going to take?

The main concern was that he be comfortable. That’s what mattered the most and she could see he got a little nervous sometimes, like when he’d placed his hands under her shirt and palmed her tits over her bra a few nights ago, only doing it for a short while and not pushing further than that. She’d been aching for it when he left. If this was some sort of edging, he was doing a great job of making her crave it.

Harry was incredibly attractive. This was common knowledge, and she’d go as far as to say it was fact. Her body reacted to him in a very strong way, but the slight rejections were starting to make her wonder if she was the one pushing too hard. It was hard to control herself with his hands on her. His large palms holding her waist and pulling her close so he could lick into his mouth, letting her hips rock a little on top of him- and he got hard! That’s something that stumped her. He was hard and she could feel it under her, so obviously he had to be at least attracted to her, but something was stopping him. Tonight, she needed to figure out what it was.

She heard the door open and the telltale clank of the keys attached to his jeans, making her smile as she continued to stir the pot of soup on the stove. She’d learned a recipe for broccoli cheddar soup when he said it was his favorite and managed to do two trial runs to make sure it was actually good. She’d cheated with the bread, getting store bought, but it had led her to find a new favorite wine.

Hands found her waist and chin rested on top of her as he looked down at the pot she was stirring, a little hum coming from his throat. “Should’ve known you were up t’something when you wouldn’t tell me what we were going to do for dinner.” He clicked his tongue, using a finger to turn her head so he could catch her lips. He was smiling as he pulled back, eyes light and happy as he looked back down at it. “You didn’t have t’do this all by yourself. I would have helped, or paid. But you’re too fucking sweet.” His hands went back to her waist to give her a squeeze before moving next to the stove to look at her. “Is there something I can do to help?

Y/N’s stomach was a mess of butterflies from his reaction, cheeks hurting from keeping her own smile contained enough that it didn’t look crazy. It did smell good in here and her trial runs ensured that her recipe wasn’t a fuck up. “You can get wine glasses out. I found a cool wine at Trader Joes and wanted to try it.” She hummed, tapping the spoon against the side of the pot to get off the excess before resting it in her sunflower spoon rest. For once, she was actually using it as it was intended and not just decor.

“Yeah? I’m excited to try.” He moved past her to get the wine glasses on the bar cart she had set up when she got a wild hair and wanted to do a DIY thing. She went the opposite way to get two bowls, placing them down before gathering the spoons. “How much did the ingredients cost?”

“None of your business.” She playfully snipped, ladling the soup into the bowls. “You’ve paid for enough. I can handle paying for some of our meals and stuff. You know I don’t expect you to cover everything, right?” Sometimes she had to wonder if Harry thought she expected this. Of course she fought him on paying every time but he was quicker to place his card or cash down every time. How? She didn’t know.

“Course I know that. But I like to.” He saddled up next to her, watching as she served their dinner. “I like to take care of you. I know you don’t expect that and you’re not runnin’ around trying to get money off of me. But even if you were, I think I’d give it to you.” He adjusted the strap of her apron, eyes on the side of her face. “I enjoy paying. I can’t describe exactly why, but it feels right. You give me your company, and it’s worth a lot more than dinner.” Harry felt pretty strongly about it, it seemed. Y/N had to wonder who instilled this in him. She knew it was old school, and he did sometimes do things by the book, but he was progressive with his views. It confused her a little.

Harry himself, though, was holding back. Of course he wanted to spoil Y/N. He liked her a lot more than was probably normal for only being together for a few weeks, and he didn’t want to scare her off. It was hard. He wanted to pay for her nails, wanted to make sure she had the things she wanted. It was hard to hold his true emotion back, but he feared the rejection. Coming on way too strong. He fell hard and fast, but Y/N was the hardest and fastest he’d even crashed. His crush had predated their relationship, making it even worse.

“Well.. Okay.” She sighed, turning to hand him his bowl. “If it actually makes you happy, I suppose I can let go. I just don’t want you to think I’m some sort of freeloader or, or a gold digger. I make my own money and I can take care of stuff for us too.” He followed her to the table, choosing to sit next to her instead of across.

“Never. You’ve never asked me for a thing. If you did, I’d probably say yes, but I know you’re none of those things. You’re the sweetest girl I know. Let me take care of you.” He rested his palm on her thigh to squeeze it lightly before spooning some of the soup into his mouth.

“Careful! It’s hot.” Y/N knew it was still steaming and worried for him, but he simply swallowed and gave her a smile.

“Been drinking hot coffee for ages. Doesn’t bother me. Plus, I’ve literally poked a hole through my tongue, so it’s safe. But thanks for looking out for me.” He laughed. “This is really fucking good, Y/N. Probably the best I’ve had.”

She knew he had to be exaggerating but the praise made her flush. A tiny, shy smile painted her lips as she watched him take another bite. A groan of satisfaction came from him, making her stomach flutter for a variety of reasons, but she needed to get her mind out of the gutter. “You think so?”

“Know so. You’re never gonna be able to get rid of me. Gonna have to be bribing you to make this for me again.” His knee knocked into hers. It was a slight joke- he would definitely ask her to make it again, but he would cover the ingredients. Maybe she could make it at his house? He loved the idea of her in his kitchen, in his living room. In his bed.

“Well, there’s plenty of leftovers.” She chirped, happiness coursing through her at his words. Succeeding at this goal made her extremely happy. Her boyfriend liked her soup! “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go to the bars with everyone tonight or if you wanted us to stay here. The choice is yours.” They’d been informed in the groupchat that there was a pub crawl tonight, but Y/N could feel his hesitation. They hadn’t been out with them together yet, and something was keeping him from wanting to go with her.

“Let’s stay here.” He sighed, stretching his arms over his head. “M’not in the mood to have to deal with drunken people spilling their pints on to me. Didn’t you say there was a documentary about a cult you wanted t’watch?” The way he brushed it off made sense, but she had to wonder why he didn’t want to go.

“I’m fine with that, but you used to love going out. I don’t want to stop you from doing that.” She approached it carefully, watching as his brows furrowed together.

“Not at all. T’be honest, I used to only go out when I knew you were going. Wanted to make sure you were okay, and… I dunno. I would always end up staring.” His cheeks pinkened a little, looking down at his bowl. And before her, it was going out to get laid. He didn’t need the bar for either of those things anymore. “So now I’ve got you, get to spend time with you. If you want to go, we can. I jus’ don’t want them poking at us.”

That was a worry of his.

“How do you mean?” This was something she’d been a little insecure about. Their friends didn’t really know she and Harry were together. Harry hadn’t mentioned telling anyone and she hadn’t wanted to say something too early. It was hard to navigate the relationship this early on. Harry was a private person but she also liked the idea of people knowing that they were together.

“Well.. They’re just a nosy lot, aren’t they? I’ve kind of kept this to myself, wanted to enjoy you before the group of them descend on us like vultures asking for information.” The distaste was clear on his face, making something in her tummy turn. “They’re gonna ask for the whole story, and apparently they all thought I didn’t like you so it’s gonna be a big deal. I’d like it to just stay between us for a while longer.”

“Oh. Okay.” She peeped, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She was being silly. Of course, she knew what he said made complete and utter sense. He was correct. It would be a big deal and they would demand to know what and how and when and it would be a lot, but something about it made her feel icky. Moving her soup around with her spoon, she stayed quiet as she tried to talk herself down. Harry had never done something purposely to hurt her feelings, but this had done so by accident. It wasn’t his fault- but part of her worried he was ashamed or something. She knew she didn’t exactly look like his normal type,or the type he apparently went for prior to her. She wasn’t covered in tattoos yet. Was it weird to be dating a girl that was sort of your opposite?

Meanwhile, Harry’s heart sunk to his ass. He could see, he could hear that it wasn’t okay. He’d hurt her feelings and he caught it on her face, and he felt a little queasy that he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly about that had made her upset. She looked a bit like a kicked puppy and he felt awful, the guilt crawling up his throat as he turned to her. “Hey… Y/N.” He urged. “Can you look at me, sweetheart? I think I just hurt your feelings and I didn’t mean to.” His hand settled on her shoulder, thumbing over it as he tried not to freak out. This was what he meant by putting his foot in his mouth. Sometimes he didn’t think things through, or maybe had some emotional incompetence.

“No, no… You just, I don’t know why it upset me.” She looked at him, seeing the genuine stress on his face. He had just turned anxious in a way she hadn’t seen him before. “I uh, I think I’m just being silly.” Even though her eyes burned a little bit, he obviously hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

“Your feelings aren’t silly.” He murmured. “What felt bad about what I said? I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you.” His hand grabbed hers as she dropped her spoon. “Talk me through it. What part felt bad to you? M’sorry.” His apology came out again and Y/N felt guilty herself. She knew she was ultra sensitive and lots of things hurt her feelings that didn’t make sense, but she didn’t want him feeling that way about her! He’d just been talking.

“I uh… I think, somewhere in my brain… Part of me has been thinking you don’t want people to know we’re together because I’m like, y’know. Not your type.” She winced even as she said it, stumbling over her words. “Like, I’ve seen the girls that approach you and the ones you used to talk to.” One of his ex flings had come up to the table once but he had swiftly rejected her. “I’m nothing like them. I just get nervous that you’ll be like… embarrassed to be seen with me or something.”

Harry looked at her with a sad frown, shaking his head adamantly as she finished the sentence. So that’s what it was. She was comparing herself to other girls that seemed to fit his aesthetic more, which had been true before. He’d gone for girls that had lots of tattoos and wore darker makeup and different clothes than she had, sure. But she was his absolute favorite person. Couldn’t she see that?

“Darling… No. Absolutely not. M’the furthest thing from embarrassed.” He promised. “I want everyone to know. It’s nothing to do with that. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the privilege to call mine. I adore you, and sometimes I even have to stop myself because I feel like m’gonna come on too strong but… It isn’t that I don’t want them to know. It’s the part where they harass us for answers.” Harry wasn’t too good at the whole talking thing sometimes but he was doing his best for Y/N. He liked her far too much to let her worry like this. “I am a private man. I don’t want to share all the gritty details, no, but you know how they are when they’ve been drinking. They’re relentless and they’re gonna bother you about it. And I know that you can get overwhelmed and I just…I don’t want them to hound you while I just sit there next to you.” They’d know better than to go after Harry for answers, but Y/N had been so open with them in the past, they’d expect the same.

“I like you a lot more than you can probably tell. So much that I’ve had to pace myself. I don’t like the idea of being too much for you, or moving too fast. You deserve a proper dating experience with the lead ups, or whatever you want. You’re not just some hookup I want to divulge dirty details about. You mean something to me and I think… I think that’s part of why I like keeping it to us right now.” He swallowed, adjusting in his seat to get closer to her. “I don’t want them to intrude on us when we’re doing so well on our own. But if you want them to know, I’ll tell ‘em all.” Harry knew he’d try to find a way to lasso the moon if that's what the girl in front of him wanted.

Y/N felt exceptionally silly for thinking he was ashamed of her, but his explanation made her butterflies return. He really liked her like that? She sniffled, looking into his earnest eyes before nodding. “Okay. That makes a lot of sense.” Taking some initiative, she got up and sat herself on his lap to get a cuddle. They both seemed to need one. Harry had a damn near heart attack seeing her lips downturned. “We could do like…” She paused before shaking her head. “Nevermind, It’s silly.” Her face heated.

“No, it’s not. What is it?” He urged, trying to hear her out. The man had no idea what she was going to suggest but he doubted he would tell her no.

“People sometimes like, hint that they’re with someone. On social media. They post photos that are kinda like, unsure. So it isn’t as much of a shock when they do come out as a couple. Is that something that would make you feel a little better about it?” She knew they called it soft launching but it felt weird to call it that out loud.

They could ignore texts if they wanted to. It was obvious they weren’t going out tonight, but maybe people could put things together and they didn’t need to be harassed in person. Harry thought about it for a moment before nodding, still unsure as to how it would work. He was picky about his privacy, especially on socials, but he trusted Y/N. He didn’t mind later on if she posted him fully, but it would make sense to him to start it that way. “I don’t see why not. How do we do that, though?”

“Well, later when we’re watching something I can take a selfie and your arm can be in it or something. I dunno, it doesn’t have to be extremely obvious. Just enough that there's a hint. You move on from there.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, adjusting herself. “If you’re worried about them harassing me, which is very sweet by the way, it may be easier to just do something like that. Let them see we’re hanging out on our own and we can just ignore our phones and answer when we see fit. It may be less overwhelming for the both of us.” It made sense to her.

“Hm.” He hummed, thinking about it for a moment. “I think that could be alright, yeah.” Lips quirked up in a smile. “We can do that when we’re watching TV. Sounds like a plan?”

“Yes, absolutely.” She beamed. Thank god he hadn’t rejected her. She’d probably crawl into her own skin. “Did you want seconds before we do that, though?” His bowl was nearly empty and Y/N couldn’t help but be giddy about it. He’d really enjoyed her soup!

“Mm.. Yeah, I think so.”

—-----

To be fair, Y/N was sort of expecting it. When their TV time and ‘soft launch photo’ (consisting of Harry’s hand on her thigh- the one with the cross tattoo- and the bowl of popcorn in her lap) lulled, the tension had risen again. One thing was leading to another and his mouth was glued to hers, her body hauled up on top of him as he leaned back on the couch. His touches were eager, squeezing her hips and pulling her into him, the girl was gagging for it.

Harry had been holding back on her and she was dying for even the slightest nibble of intimacy with him. The way he kissed her was so thorough and hot, like he needed her mouth to breathe, and yet when he gently pulled away this time it made her whimper. Frustration rose in her belly and chest as she watched him wipe under her lips, the movement of her hips paused by his other hand. It always stopped here, and she had to wonder why it was.

“D-Do you not want to touch me?” She asked breathlessly as her hands fell from his shoulders back to her sides. It didn’t add up. He kissed her hungrily, touched her when they kissed like she was his anchor, he’d been suggestive in texts- but there was this lull that had always come up and halted their progression.

Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head, sitting up slightly whilst keeping her in his lap. “What? Are you joking?” He whispered, confusion painted on his face. “It’s all I want to do. I can barely keep my hands off of you. What are you talking about?”

“E-Every time we get to this point you stop. I know we talked about taking it slow and I never want to push you further than what you want to do but we spoke about you wanting to do more to me a-and I’m just a little confused.” She peeped, looking down at his lap. She could visibly see he was hard, it was obvious. “I want to make you feel good, H. I really, really do.”

She hadn’t meant for it to be whiny. Really, she hadn’t, but she’d been thinking about having him down her throat and hearing him praise her for weeks now. He’d been patient and gentle and of course, she loved how tender he was with her but… “I’ve been a mess and I keep thinking about sucking you off and I would really like to. Can we do something more tonight?” She brushed her nose against his, a fleeting kiss being pressed to his slightly open mouth. “Please? If you’re comfortable, I promise I’ll be good and do whatever you want. I think- I think you’ll have to show me how you like it but if you want to hold off touching me, let me do it to you.. Please, H…” Her hand slid down and rested at the waistband of his jeans.

Harry was a bit shocked, really. He’d been taking his time with her because he really, really didn’t want to fuck this up by thinking with his dick, but he hadn’t realized it had been grating so much on her. Of course this was his fuck up, but he could only focus on the fact that she was nearly begging to have his cock in her mouth. “M’so sorry, baby. Was trying to take it slow. I want to touch you so much.” His voice was slightly hoarse as he replied. “Don’t ever think I’m not attracted to you.” Grabbing her hand, she let it sink further so it was over his cock. His breathing caught in his throat as she squeezed, giving him a needy look that was unfamiliar with him.

Who would have thought Y/N would be the one to make the first move?

“You feel that, Sweetheart? I get like this every time I’m around you.” Her hand was smaller than his, he noticed as he let go and let her do as she pleased. “I’m obsessed with you. Y’know that? I meant it in my text to you when we talked about this.” His nose brushed against hers. “I’m always thinking about how hot and wet I can get that pretty cunt. Do you think I don’t imagine you every single time I wrap my hand around my cock?” He clicked his tongue. “It’s always you. Always your gorgeous face I see when I cum. Imagine making you cum for me, how you’d feel. Don’t think for a minute that I don’t want you when you’re all I can bloody think about when I close my eyes.” It was intense, maybe, but true.

“You can do whatever you want. What’s my girl need, hm? Want my fingers? My tongue? We’re going to hold off on having you squeeze around my cock for now until we’ve got days to spare… M’not going to be able to do it just once. But It’s up to you pretty girl.” He would get on his knees for her if he was being honest. He’d never wanted to make her feel like he didn’t want her, and he knew he would be making up for it. His pretty girl, however, had a different thing in mind.

“I want to touch you. Please?” She whispered. “I meant it. I want you to touch me too but, I’ve been thinking about this for ages.” It was slightly embarrassing to admit but she felt that confidence going through her now, especially since he had expressed how much he wanted her too. “I’m okay with anything but you’ve been teasing me for so long…” Her fingernails dragged over the side of his neck and tangled slightly in his hair, making him hiss and his eyes roll back slightly at the accidental tug of his hair. His cock was thick in his pants and he knew he didn’t have it in him to deny her- not after all of this.

“Can’t say no to you, baby.” He panted, gently taking her hand and leading it to his belt. His eyes were dark as he took her lips again, groaning as her palm slipped down and squeezed over him. It was a welcomed feeling for the both of them, her lips parting against his own as she felt the hot bulge underneath the denim as it throbbed against her hand. Yes- this was exactly what she had wanted. “Go ahead. Whatever you want to do, m’yours.”

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 5]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

You were not traumatised, per say. But you were worried. When you woke up, you sat at your coffee table with a double espresso nestled in your hands as the events from the night before came flooding back. Your brain finally realised the severity of it.

Hongjoong was injured, beaten up by someone. His first words to you was to 'hide him'. No police, no doctor. And he was armed, and on alert.

"What have I gotten myself into?" You threw your head back. It was obvious that he was involved in something illegal. A gang maybe?

"Two pick ups today." You checked your phone as you shuffled into your room.

You were not in the right headspace to work today but there were orders that needed to be fulfilled. Plus, these customers had put in their orders and the deposit a few months ago.

"It's fine, you're fine." You took a deep breath. Hongjoong had assured you that you were safe last night. You can trust him, right?

After you got changed, you left your home. Thankfully, the pick ups were all registered for the morning so you could send them off and close the shop.

"Good morning, one iced americano." You stopped by the cafe two doors down before going to the shop.

"Morning, (y/n). An iced coffee? One of the rare times you don't order an iced tea of sorts. Are you okay?" The owner, who you were very familiar with, teased you. Almost all of the shops on your row were run by young people like yourself so you were all relatively close and knew each other.

"I'm fine, Jihoon. Just didn't get much sleep tonight." You rolled your eyes with a laugh. A lot of girls thought Jihoon was cute and always came to the cafe to fawn over him.

"Alright, don't worry about it. On the house for the sleep-deprived girl." He smiled.

"Stop it~ You always don't let me pay." You groaned.

"Too bad. I'm not accepting your money and I've already keyed in your order so you can't decline. Don't make my barista's efforts go to waste." He chuckled.

"Ah, you're terrible." You clicked your tongue and stepped aside so you wouldn't keep the next customer waiting.

"Here you go. Have a nice day, (y/n)." The barista placed your order on the counter.

"Thank you. See you all." You waved to the staff before leaving to go to your shop. You unlocked the door and entered, closing the door behind you.

'Order pick ups only!'

You placed the sign at the door and went to get the orders ready. You wrapped the bundled flowers that you had prepared last night and added layers of tissue paper around it in different colours. Finally, you tied a thick band of ribbon over it, followed by a thinner ribbon.

"Excuse me. I'm here for a pick up?" You heard an older man's voice at the front of the store.

"Good morning. I was just getting your order ready, right this way." You smiled, leading him further into your store. You went to get the bouquet and laid it on the counter.

"Beautiful." He smiled.

"It's your anniversary with your wife? Congratulations." You giggled, remembering the note that you had printed for him.

"Yes. Even though she had gone to heaven a few years ago, I never miss an anniversary or a birthday." He chuckled, fishing around for his wallet in his pockets.

"Oh my, I'm sorry. My condolences." You smiled sadly. He nodded and accepted your condolences, putting the money on the counter.

"You know what. It's on me for this one. I'll return you your deposit too." You took the cash out.

"No, no, miss. I cannot do that. You're running a business here. Please, I insist that I pay you for your effort and time." He denied, shaking his head.

"Take it as an anniversary present from me to you and your wife. I'm paying it forward since I got a free coffee this morning. The pleasure would be all mine." You smiled, shaking the cup of iced coffee that Jihoon had gifted you. He looked at you with uncertainty but nodded his head with a defeated sigh.

"Alright, thank you so much, miss. I'll be sure to tell my wife when I visit her grave." He received the bouquet.

"You're very welcome. Have a nice day. And happy anniversary again." You walked him to the door, waving as he walked away with the bouquet preciously nestled in his arms.

"Okay, just one more." You walked back into your shop and prepared the bouquet like you did earlier.

As you worked on the bouquet, you thought about the man visiting his late wife's grave.

Would Hongjoong tell you when Mrs Kim's grave was ready so you could visit? You wanted to bring her another bouquet of her favourite flowers and speak to her.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" There was a woman's voice by the door.

"Over here! Are you here for the pick up?" You dried your hands and went over to her. She nodded and showed you the order invoice.

"I'm finishing it up now. You can head to the counter and I will be right with you." You gestured to the payment counter. She hummed with a small smile and walked to the counter to wait for you while you finished tying the ribbons on the bouquet.

"Here you go, miss. Just check that everything is okay, as you requested." You said, placing the bouquet on the counter for her to look at.

"It's nice. Thank you." She handed you her card for the payment. Once you were done, you returned her the card.

"Have a nice day." She wished with a bow of her head.

"You too." You waved. You went to the front to remove the sign and lock the front door since you didn't want any customers to walk in and order flowers.

You entered the back room and tidied up the place since you didn't get a chance to after Hongjoong was here last night.

"Replace first aid kit." You made a note to yourself. You had used a lot of stuff when you treated him last night so you had to replenish items and possibly get even more equipment in case this happens again.

"No, it won't happen again." You shook your head. After everything was tidy and clean again, you grabbed your bag and coffee, locking up for the day. The two order pick ups only took about 2 hours since the customers were very punctual so you still had the whole day ahead of you.

"Playing hooky?" Jihoon asked, catching you as you were leaving and he was throwing the trash.

"No, I fulfilled my pick ups for today and decided to take a breather so I'm closed the rest of the day." You forced a smile. Jihoon chuckled and nodded his head.

"Good on you. I wish I could close for the rest of the day." He clicked his tongue.

"Well, you are the owner. You can close any time you want." You scoffed and he laughed, nodding his head.

"You're right. And actually, I was thinking of asking the others to hang out this Friday, get some drinks and chill. Will you be interested in coming?" He tilted his head.

"Sure. Just text me the details." You said.

"Great! See you then! No backing out last minute this time." He grinned and waved to you as you left.

"That happened once! Let it go! And I was really sick, even if you all don't believe it." You hissed. The last time all the shop owners went out, you had a stomach bug and couldn't go. Until now, Jihoon thinks you lied just so you could stay home.

Before heading home, you decided to drop by the pharmacy to get the first aid kit. Besides the basic first aid kit, you gave in to the nagging voice in your head and bought more supplies.

"Just these, please." You placed everything on the counter.

"Do you run a clinic, miss?" The cashier lady asked with a judgemental stare as she scanned your items.

"I know clumsy people...?" That was the best you could come up with, shooting her a small smile. She nodded slowly, still giving you a skeptical look but rang up your items.

"Have a nice day! Thanks!" You paid and left as quickly as you could, lugging your items with you.

"Alright, groceries." Grabbing a cart, you went into the grocery store since your house was running out of food.

"Here let me help." Someone reached over your head as you were tip toeing for the last bottle of sauce on the shelf. You blinked and looked up to see a tall, handsome guy.

"Thank you so much. You look familiar... Have we met before?" You asked as you received the sauce gratefully. You have seen him before somewhere, you just couldn't put your finger on it. He looked at you before shaking his head in denial and adjusting the jacket of his suit as he walked away.

"Huh, weird." You scratched your head and continued on your way. With all your groceries, you took a cab home.

As you were putting aside the first aid supplies to bring to the shop the next day, you wondered back to Hongjoong. Yunho would have brought him to a doctor if his condition worsened right?

"It's out of your hands." You told yourself and put your groceries away. Now, you want to shower and just stay in bed the whole day.

As you sat on the couch, many thoughts ran through your head. If Hongjoong were to ask, were you mentally and emotionally ready to talk about Mrs Kim with him?

There was strained relationship between them. But that was separate from the relationship you had with her.

If Hongjoong was resentful, you didn't know if you could withstand the hurt he might show you.

At the end of the day, Mrs Kim is Hongjoong's biological mother. You constantly reminded yourself of that. His relationship with her will always, forever, run deeper than your relationship with her. But why was there jealousy and envy burning within you?

"Hongjoong, her shop was closed but I bumped into her at the nearby supermarket while picking up snacks. She's fine, not traumatised whatsoever." Seonghwa said as he walked to the car.

"Alright, there was no sign that those guys went back to the shop to scare her?"

"Not that I could see. Everything looked in place. Maybe she just decided to close to shop to take a break." Seonghwa sighed.

"Or maybe she was scared whoever attacked me would come back. Damn it, why did it have to happen so near to where she was? This is so unnecessary."

"What's unnecessary is you worrying now." Seonghwa chuckled, sitting in the backseat while one of his men drove.

"There's something else, isn't there? What did you do?" Seonghwa noted the silence on the other end.

"I don't know... I feel like a part of me wants to know her relationship with my mother but a part of me is so angry about it. She definitely doesn't know my mother like I know my mother. It irks me to hear how she thought my mother was wonderful."

"Well, we never knew what your mother's life was when we moved her to her own place. Maybe it was facade, maybe it was real. The only way to know is from (y/n)." Seonghwa said.

"That, I know. Ugh, you wouldn't even know about her helping me last night if it weren't for you torturing me."

"I did not torture you." He scoffed at the leader's childishness.

"Pressing down on my fresh bruise until I told you the truth is the purest form of torture, Park Seonghwa. Forget that, I think Yeosang has some info for us."

"Call a meeting tonight then. We'll discuss it." Seonghwa suggested. Hongjoong let out a hum of agreement before hanging up.

Seonghwa let out a long sigh. Despite knowing Hongjoong for so long, he was having a hard time deciphering Hongjoong's take on you.

"Where to, Mr Park?" The driver asked.

"Take me to my steak restaurant. I'll eat before heading home." He pinched his nose bridge. The driver nodded and began to drive towards Seonghwa's steak restuarant. Him, Yunho and Wooyoung were the only ones that owned restaurants, with Seonghwa owning the most since he was the most passionate about food.

"Good afternoon, Mr Park. Your guests are in the private room." The manager greeted Seonghwa as the entrance. Seonghwa had a slight frown of confusion.

"What guests...? I thought I sent you a message that it's only me dining here." Seonghwa asked.

"I..." The manager stuttered nervously. Seonghwa glared at the manager, taking his gun and heading to the private room.

"Hyung! Finally, you're here! We're starving!" Wooyoung waved. Seonghwa let out a sigh, tucking his gun back into its holster and turning to the manager.

"You could have told me it was my brothers that were here." He hissed in annoyance.

"My apologies, Mr Park!" The manager bowed fearfully.

"I would ask how you all found out but I think I know the answer." Seonghwa ignored the poor male and sighed at his brothers. Jongho put the menu down with a knowing grin.

"Well, we were thinking about lunch and at the right time, I saw your manager key your reservation into your restaurant's system." He shrugged innocently. Seonghwa shook his head with a chuckle and sat down in the spare seat.

"Don't you all have work?" He asked.

"Like Jongho said, it's lunch time." San said, pouring Seonghwa a glass of sparkling water.

"What would you like to have?" The manager came in to take the orders. Seonghwa always eats the same thing so the manager didn't need to ask him.

"Your usual, Mr Park?" He confirmed. Seonghwa gave a nod and the manager bowed deeply, exiting the private room.

"I'm going to start sending everything through snail mail just so you can't hack into my restaurant's system anymore." Seonghwa scoffed.

"Even that won't stop us, hyung. You know it." Mingi laughed. Seonghwa knew that was true. The boys were too skilled and too resourceful to hide anything from them.

"I'm surprised not all of you are here then." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you know Hongjoong hyung's injured so he's still at home, doing whatever. Yeosang's at his fight club getting info for Hongjoong hyung and Yunho's... off doing Yunho things. I honestly don't know what Yunho does, he's everywhere." Wooyoung laughed. Probably only Mingi knows where Yunho is.

"He's at some posh meeting, I think. I saw him getting all dressed up this morning." Mingi tapped his chin, trying to remember what his best friend told him.

"By the way, did you all see that Hongjoong's holding a team meeting tonight?" Seonghwa asked.

"Yeah, sent it out about 30 minutes ago. Is it about his attack?" San clarified. Seonghwa nodded in confirmation.

"Yeosang apparently found some important info so we'll discuss it tonight." Seonghwa explained. Everyone nodded, they all wanted to know who dared attack their captain.

"Anyway, so what's the news with the flower shop girl?" Wooyoung asked Seonghwa.

"No idea. I've known him the longest but I can't read him. Only Yunho seems to be able to read him this time." Seonghwa shrugged.

"Yunho?" Mingi blinked. The waiters came in to serve the food to all of them, making the 5 of them pause their conversation momentarily until they were alone again.

"You know, I bet Hongjoong hyung can't even read his own feelings. Probably has a lot going through his head, especially since that girl's relation to Mrs Kim is so mysterious." Jongho said. The others nodded in agreement.

"Mmm, always love the steak here. Today's one is even better." Mingi said as he chewed his steak.

"Yes, we recently found a better supplier so it's all direct from the farms to us now." Seonghwa nodded, he wouldn't let the food at his restaurant be anything short of perfection.

"We forgot to order wine." Jongho said.

"Yes! How can we have steak without wine?" Wooyoung exclaimed in disbelief.

"Aren't you two driving?" San raised an eyebrow. He was not someone that drank often since he was a lightweight, just two glasses of wine and he'll lose control.

"You can drive Jongho's car. And I can get one of my guys to drive my car back to the house." Wooyoung shrugged.

"That settles it then. I'll go order." Jongho stood up and went out to order the wine for the table.

After the delicious lunch, Seonghwa charged it to his card and they all headed home. Following the arrangement, San drove Jongho's car since he didn't drive his own car with Jongho in the passenger seat, Mingi drove his own car, Wooyoung sat in Mingi's car after getting one of his men to pick his car up.

"Mr Park." Seonghwa's driver opened the door for him to enter as they all stood outside the restaurant.

"See you back at the house?" San tilted his head.

"Nah, we're going out to the mall. My sales associate brought in some new stuff." Mingi stretched his arms over his head with a tired yawn. Wooyoung hummed.

"I can do some shopping too." Wooyoung grinned excitedly. The boys all loved buying new clothes.

"Sounds tempting but I need to get back to work. Speaking of, all of you should be going back to work too." Seonghwa glared.

"We will." Mingi and Wooyoung waved the oldest off. Jongho and San looked at each other, shrugging before entering their car to drive back home.

"See you two tonight then." Seonghwa sighed.

"We'll pick something up for you, hyung." Mingi winked and Wooyoung waved as Seonghwa sat in the car. The driver closed the door behind him and entered the driver's seat to start the drive back to the mansion.

"Oh, look at our timing." San said as he parked and Yunho also pulled up behind them. The taller male looked drained and exhausted, his tall stature slumped over.

"Bad meeting?" Jongho chuckled.

"More like gross. The guy's wife kept touching my arm. I'm going to disinfect it." Yunho cringed.

"If you wanna chop it off, I'd happily help." San grinned and Yunho rolled his eyes. The three of them headed upstairs and Yunho immediately threw his jacket on the couch.

"Looks like I can squeeze a nap before the meeting tonight." He checked his watch.

"Yeah, I would advise that you go shower first though. You smell like old lady." Jongho snickered, hi fiving San.

"I hate you both." Yunho groaned and trudged upstairs.

"Oh! Hongjoong hyung." The three stopped in their tracks when they saw Hongjoong emerge from his office. There was a small frown on his face, which was common with how much work stressed him out. But they were surprised to see him up and working considering what happened last night.

"What?" Hongjoong tilted his head in confusion.

"You're up and working already? Don't you want to rest somemore?" San questioned.

"I was jumped, not amputated. I'm fine. It's all scratches and bruises which we're all used to." Hongjoong replied, sipping his whiskey from the crystal glass in his hand.

"Still you should rest. Even if you're not affected by your injuries, you hardly slept." Yunho reasoned. The other two nodded.

"Yeah, I'll go nap. See you all at the meeting tonight." Hongjoong yawned and headed into his room.

~

Series masterlist

[megumiluvv]

Trouble

A Five Part Sukuna Series

Part One: Some Dumb Project

Masterlist

Part Two (will update when posted!!)

Synopsis: You switched majors and meet this annoying guy in your new history class, now you have to work on a project with him. Not only that, he goes to the place you work at! Ugh, how annoying, hopefully he won’t cause any trouble…

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ♛ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

Sukuna is nothing but trouble. Everyone knows that. All your life, you’ve attracted nothing but trouble. Whether it’s a traffic jam, your coffee being too cold or spilling all over you, or somehow locking yourself out of your apartment, you just can’t help but find trouble.

Like right now.

You’re late. To your first class of your new major. It’s not like you slept in late or anything, your door jammed, meaning you had to bust yourself out of your own apartment. Talk about annoying! Luckily, the professor hasn’t entered class, so when you walk into the lecture hall, you get up to a row with good acoustics and sit next to a boy with pink hair. He smiles at you and taps your shoulder.

“Hey! I’m Yuji Itadori! Are you new? I haven’t seen you here before, and most of these people are familiar faces.”

“Yeah, I switched majors over break. Nice to meet you, Itadori.”

“Hey, who’s the person in my seat, brat?”

You think you have double vision when you see Itadori twice, but this second one has tattoos on his face.

“Um, there aren’t assigned seats.”

“You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” He huffs with his gruff voice, a frown permanently etched into his face. He’s like a polar opposite of Yuji.

“Sukuna, just sit on the other side of me, it’s not that big a deal.” Yuji rolls his eyes.

“Maybe not to you, idiot.”

“Um, who are you?” You tilt your head.

“I’m this brat’s twin brother, isn’t that obvious? Now get out of my spot.”

“Still not your spot.”

“I will carve my name into the desk. Then will you move?”

“Isn’t that vandalism?”

“Even better.”

You scoff into a small laugh and look at Yuji with a “can you believe this guy?” look. You still refuse to switch seats as the professor enters.

“Alright, take your seats, class has started.” He says in a bored tone.

Sukuna scoffs at you and sits on the other side of Yuji, glaring at you the entire time. He can already tell you’re going to annoy him. Especially with your stupid attitude, your dumb clothes that fit you so well, your stupid good looks, your annoyingly attractive body… He needs to not stare. He shakes the thought away as the professor talks about some dumb project he could care less about.

“You all are going to be assigned a group of three people, so just look at the person next to you and on the other side, that’s basically your group, just for simplicity.” The professor looks up and starts writing groups down. “Mkay, so the Itadoris anddd… got it.”

Sukuna almost audibly groans with his eye roll, now he’s stuck with you? What a pain… The end of class couldn’t come sooner. He glares at you as he leaves, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and smoking in the bathrooms. You look at Yuji in confusion.

“That’s your twin brother?”

“Yeah, I think he was dropped.”

You laugh at him and shake your head, he’s definitely funnier than his moody counterpart. You head to your next class after exchanging numbers. The rest of the school day goes on like normal. Luckily, you don’t have any other classes with Yuji’s brother, but you do share a math class with Yuji, which is fun. You leave to work, a cafe run by a tired old man, but he’s a nice guy. You get there early somehow, changing into your work clothes and heading to the front to take orders.

You didn’t think the day would be worse, but who else enters the cafe but that annoying tattooed guy? Oh, and Yuji, but he’s not the issue here. There’s a third guy too, he doesn’t look much like them.

“Hey, customers are here, stop staring and take their orders, please.” Nanami tells you.

“Right, sorry.” You mumble and take their orders, Sukuna purposely picking something difficult. Yuji smiles at you and sits at their normal spot.

“This history project makes no sense, we haven’t even been taught this thing and he’s assigning us a project! Can you believe this, Choso?” Yuji groans and sips his drink when you set it in front of him.

“It’s like a research project, and we need to sort out who's doing what.” You say and hand who Yuji called “Choso” his black coffee. You set down the difficult order Sukuna made and he examines it.

“Hmm…”

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure it was made correctly.”

“I didn’t poison it, dude, it has everything you asked for.”

“Hmmmmm…” Your eye twitches.

“You’re not getting a refund, Sukuna, she made it exactly like you asked, you’re such a pain in the ass.” Yuji rolls his eyes and looks at you. “Just ignore him. We need to plan the project anyways. Sukuna isn’t going to do anything, I already know that.”

Sukuna, who doesn’t deny it, opens a bunch of straws, rips small parts of the wrapping paper, balls them up, and throws them across the table. One hits Yuji, one lands onto the floor, one lands in Choso’s coffee, and one hits you while another lands in your hair. Choso glares at his younger brother and rolls his eyes, moving the ball out of his coffee before taking a sip.

“Every day, I wonder how I am even related to you.” Choso mumbles.

“Oh, you say that about me but not the idiot next to you?”

“At least Yuji isn’t a literal menace like you.”

“Can we please focus on the project?” Yuji sighs.

“Whatever.” Sukuna grumbles and keeps tossing trash around.

“I’ll research the start half if you research the end half.” Yuji says to you.

“Mkay, I can also make the presentation.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Sukuna asks.

“Don’t act like you plan to help, idiot! The school already caught you for vandalizing the bathroom stalls! You’re gonna be busy cleaning all that up before you can even work on the project, and I know you’ll take your sweet ass time cleaning everything up!” Yuji argues with Sukuna.

“Really? First day back and you’re already in trouble?” You tilt your head.

“Don’t act so surprised, everyone knows he’s trouble.” Choso says pointedly.

“Oh, I guess you’ve never met him before today, huh? He gets in trouble quite a lot.” Yuji grins. “Anyways, we should let you get back to work, so have fun!”

Yuji leaves a tip for you and you start cleaning the table, not seeing the way Sukuna’s gaze lingers when you bend to pick up the trash from the ground. You hit your head standing back up and swear you can hear someone snicker.

You drive home, though leaving the parking lot of the cafe takes you almost an hour since your key wouldn’t work. When you get to your apartment, you enter through the front door and cook yourself a simple dinner. You count your tips and see a piece of paper you didn’t notice before.

“Don’t sit there tomorrow or I’ll key your car.”

Wonder who that could be from.

The next day, you head to class, getting there early, and Sukuna is already in “his seat”, giving you a glare as his eyes trail down your body. He really can’t stand you, he decides again. Your outfit today sits a little too perfect, being just tight enough that if someone was looking hard enough (which Sukuna was), they could see the outline of your bra.

You chew on the end of your pencil, a bad habit you’re yet to break, and Yuji shares the research doc to you. You split the work between the two of you and Sukuna just sits in the doc typing the same three phrases over and over.

“Stop that.” Yuji smacks his brother’s arm.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re typing ‘death and destruction’ as if you’re manifesting it, stop.”

“I’m not just typing that…”

“Don’t get me started on ‘the despair is endless’ and ‘this class shouldn’t exist’. What are you, twelve?”

“I’m twenty-one, like you, dumbass!”

“I’m not the dumbass writing edgy shit on the doc!”

“Oh my god, you two, just let him type his edgy shit and continue researching.” You groan.

Yuji huffs in frustration and continues his research while you check the doc to see what Sukuna is doing. There are fire emojis in the middle of your typing, the words “you work tn?” near the bottom of the page. You sigh and humor him, talking through the document.

“No, why?”

“So I don’t get to throw trash at you later?”

“Nope.”

“How sad.”

You look at him and he has a smirk. You roll your eyes and leave when class is over, tripping over your own feet. He laughs at your misfortune and grunts when Yuji smacks him in the head.

“What was that for?!”

“Don’t go flirting with her, she’s a nice girl who doesn’t need someone like you to fuck up her happiness.”

“I’m not flirting with her!”

“I saw the fucking doc, dipshit. You’re not slick.”

“I was asking if she’d be around for me to torment.”

“You and I both know what your intentions were.”

The tattooed twin grunts and walks off, lighting a cigarette and tripping some nerd who apologizes for being in his way. He wasn’t flirting. He can’t stand you, he tells himself. He can’t stand your quick remarks to his words, can’t stand your stupid doe eyes, the way they squint when you’re focused on typing after the third typo in a row, can’t stand the way you purse your lips and the slight smile on your face when he and Yuji are arguing, definitely not wondering what it’d be like to feel them against his own. Because he wasn’t flirting. Yuji doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Sukuna smokes and half-ass scrubs the stall he vandalized yesterday. His thoughts are not focused on you, your stupid face, or your dumb words. Totally not. He wasn’t flirting, he reassures himself again. He’s not interested in you. Even if he was, he wouldn’t admit that. You’re just some girl in his class. Not important at all.

He’s late to the cafe and Yuji is fixing the mistakes in the research document. Choso sips his usual black coffee and scrolls on his phone.

“You’re late.” The elder brother points out.

“Had to clean the bathrooms.”

“I see. Your barista friend isn’t here.”

“She’s not my ‘friend’, Choso.”

“She’s Yuji’s friend.”

“Doesn’t make her mine by default, she can have the brat.”

“Says Mister Flirts With Her.” Yuji grins.

“I wasn’t flirting dammit!”

“Why are you getting so defensive, huh?”

“I am not! You’re just a pain in my ass and annoying the hell out of me!”

“Stop screaming, Nanamin will kick us out!” Yuji frowns.

“I still don’t get how you’re so buddy-buddy with the old man.” Choso mumbles.

“He’s pretty cool. Kind of mean, but he makes delicious bread.”

“Literally how the hell are you even aware of that?” Sukuna scoffs.

“Unlike you, I actually talk to people, and get along with them!”

“Whatever…” He scoffs.

Sukuna seems bored. He taps the table to a catchy tune and just waits until it’s time for him to go home. He watches a few groups walk into the cafe and at Yuji working diligently on his laptop.

“At least she does her work. I’d hate to do this project alone.” Yuji says to no one in particular.

“Do you do anything else besides complain?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sukuna. Let me think out loud. And you complain more than I do.”

“Liar.”

“How the hell is that a lie?”

Choso chuckles at his younger brothers. “Sukuna, you do have a streak for complaining more than Yuji.”

“Oh, dare I bring you into this, Choso?”

“You’re right; withdrawn.”

“Let’s just go home already.”

“Yeah, fine.” Yuji frowns and shuts his laptop.

When they get home, Sukuna feels a buzz in his pocket. He checks his phone. There is a text from Gojo, the university’s pretty boy.

Party at my place next Thursday.

This should be fun.

Taglist: @jinxiewritings @midnight-138 @sukioyakio @toffeebrat @hypothetical-hypocritical

@sh0ot1ngst4r @tojideckmuncher @sterzin @theirlgarfield @mikari73

@watyousayin @cherriee-ee @kyojurokoibito @xwhatiams @notsocherries

@ohohcandy @aruraa @samaraxmorgan (Comment or ask and I’ll add you!!)

[maeby-cursed]

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who waits for you in the parking lot after class. clad in a black hoodie covered in bleached designs, and baggy jeans, he looks like something straight out of your dirtiest fantasies.

he smiles when he sees you, the dimples he got from his cheek piercings in full display. he looks sweet as a peach pie like this — a feature that seems out of place coming from the wild-haired, smoky-eyed boy —, but you know that nobody else gets to see him the way you do.

that makes you smile.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who teaches you how to ride a skateboard. he sits you down on the deck and positions himself behind you, keeping your legs between his. you both propel yourselves with a couple of kicks to the ground and speed down the ramp of the park.

his friends laugh at the sight of you shrieking with delight, and he smiles, pushing your hair to the side so he can see your eyes, brimming with adrenaline and a danger that begins to taste like him.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who is there for every single one of your firsts and kind of regrets not being able to experience his own with you. he holds your hair during your first hangover, doesn’t laugh when you cough after your very first drag of a cigarette, and sleeps under your lilac covers after you’ve spent your first night with him.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who drops out of school because he finds it tedious, who is kicked out of his parents' house. who now lives with his best friend satoru, and is studying cosmetics at a course.

you've seen his sketchbooks, his delicate and intricate designs. you've seen how he braids some of his hair when he's tense and how he applies red shadows with care whenever you two go out on a date. you’ve seen how much talent he has. 

he dreams of being a tattoo artist and you’re sure he will be.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who is reluctant to tattoo you. he's been doing this for two years now; he's done full backs, arms and legs. he's even done piercings; eyebrows, nipples, bellybuttons. 

but your skin is different. your body contains your person and he doesn't feel quite ready to mark it.

yet he's never been good at saying no to you so he ends up giving in.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who, at twenty, spends his evenings in your shitty apartment contemplating the little heart he carved into your hip and kissing it.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who helps you with your studies, who's not quite a teenager anymore but who still takes you to the park from time to time, to watch that shine in your eyes come to life when you ride his skateboard again – just like it did that first time.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who never gives up his black eye shadow even if the years go by, who keeps a little bit of his old self in his combat boots, in his chipped nail polish.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who at twenty-six adopts two girls whose parents also threw them out, who works double shifts every day until he’s twenty-nine and is able to open his own tattoo shop, who keeps on working so they can get the lives he believes they deserve.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who still listens to his favorite songs. ‘one of us’ and ‘american idiot’ and ‘teenagers’; who dances with you and your little girls to all of them.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who, although his exterior never truly softens, has always been full of kindness and clouds.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who deep down knows that a part of him will be eternally misunderstood by everyone else, yet who recognizes something in your eyes; something that assures him that in this house – this house he’s built with love and devotion to his true self – everyone else does understand him. and know him.

and love him still.

[gracieheartspedro]

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: you've only patrolled with him a couple times, which made you kind of hate him. but after a night of subtle flirting at the tipsy bison, tons of alcohol, shooting pool, and making fun of some guy's tattoos, you realize you're really into joel. after you get him, you realize maybe you shouldn't want him.

Part 1/3

PART TWO IS HERE

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, drinking, playing pool(?), possible age gap (not specified really), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, joel is a menace a bit, ellie is also a little shit haha

hi lovers, how's it going? this is going to be a three-parter, inspired by Boygenius' song "Cool About It". it's gonna be smutty in all three parts so be ready (: please reach out if you have any requests or just wanna talk! I'm friendly I promise lmao

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You keep your head held high while you walk into the Tipsy Bison, the only bar in Jackson. You were not familiar with the walls of the establishment, but the plan was to get out of your comfort zone. You were good at being a social outcast, and Maria, the only friend you had here, told you to try to break out of your shell. 

So here you are, at a bar. 

Immediately you recognize a couple of familiar faces, including the Millers. 

Tommy and Joel were the patrol leaders for Jackson. You always felt comfortable around Tommy. He was more laid back and funny. On the couple of patrols you did with him, he always made sure the time went by quicker. While serious in times that are pressing, he brought light to darker situations. Maria, his wife, was the first person to introduce you to life in Jackson. She got you set up in a house by yourself and had you start patrolling when she realized you were an excellent shot. She was kind, always making sure you were looking out for yourself and invited you to family dinners sometimes.

Joel was different. 

Very quiet and deadly serious when he was speaking. He made you feel insecure about your abilities, always double and triple checking things behind you. You couldn’t bring your own horse out of the stable without him checking your pack and ensuring you packed extra bullets. 

“You never know what’s out there, girl,” He would tell you. 

You find an empty seat at the bar. Only one seat away from Joel. 

The bartender approaches you, asking what you’d like. You gesture towards Maria.

“Whatever she’s havin’.” 

Maria finally takes notice from beside Tommy and waves at you with a huge smile plastered on her face. It warmed your cold little heart. 

“Hey pretty lady,” She hops out of her chair to give you a half hug, “Glad you are doing this.”

Tommy was looking at you from beside Joel, a smirk playing on his face.

Joel stared forward with no emotion, not even daring to glance your direction.

“How’s it goin’?” Tommy asks, scooting his chair back to begin his way over to you, taking a spot next to Maria. 

You nod, “It’s going.”

“You were on that patrol with the raiders a couple days ago, right?”

He was referring to two days ago when a couple of shitty raiders took down your partner’s horse and almost shot you through the back. You guys got the upper hand, of course. You never went without packing two guns, so you had quickly slid off your horse to find cover behind a downed tree and used a hunting rifle to take two headshots. Your partner wasn’t so lucky. He was an older man and he fell hard when his horse went down. You had to race back to Jackson getting him into the infirmary as quickly as you could. Turns out he broke his arm and a couple of ribs. He would be off patrols for awhile. 

“Sure was,” You reply, “Luckily Eugene got out with just a broken arm. I was happy to be there for him.”

Before Tommy could reply to you, Joel quips up. 

“He told me you got both of the guys between the eyes,” He mumbles, “That true?”

You shake my head positively. You didn’t even want to speak to him in fear that you’d say the wrong thing. He would overanalyze you at the drop of a hat. 

“That’s impressive,” Tommy remarks, “Glad you got out of it unscathed.”

“My girl here is a badass,” Maria pats your shoulder, “Glad you are doing better. I know you were a rattled a bit.”

You take a sip of my drink, noting the intense burn, “Yeah, me too.”

You guys make more small talk, mainly about some recent patrols and what you found. You try to act interested, but the truth was you wanted to go home and read. Your mind was better occupied with made up stories than the stories that were playing out before you in real life. 

“I think we should get home to Ian,” Maria says to Tommy, referring to their newer son. He was about five months now, very cute, and chunky. He resembled your nephew before the world stole him and his mother from you. So you always refused to hold Ian, knowing it would send you into a spiral as soon as his little fingers found yours. Maria understood, telling you she knew exactly how you felt. She’s felt loss like that before, too.

“Ellie probably wants to be relieved of her cousin duties,” Joel grumbles from beside Tommy, “Poor girl doesn’t know what she agreed to.”

“Ian’s sleepin’,” Maria says putting on her coat, “She is probably bored.”

“Tell her to head home when you see her,” Joel comments. 

You have met Joel’s girl more than once. She was kind of stand-offish, intially. Now that you’ve met her a couple times, she was more chatty and goofy. She was a spitfire towards Tommy, which always made you laugh. 

From what you understood, Joel had a daughter before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria keep her name on a little memorial above their fireplace, with Maria’s son’s name scribbled beside hers. You didn’t know the backstory behind Ellie, but you realized the last time you were around all of them, she doesn’t call him dad. Just Joel or old man. Maybe she adopted?

Maria pulls you out of your thoughts, nudging you a bit. 

“Stay awhile, have another drink.”

You nod giving her a gentle smile, “I will. Get home safe.”

“See you around, girl,” Tommy says, giving you a half hug. You turn back to face the bar, noticing Joel’s still sipping on his whiskey. 

You two sit in awkward silence when they leave, not saying much to one another. You drink your second round quickly, calling over the bartender for another one. Joel says he wants the same. Once you get your pours, he finally decides to talk again.

“You still with that one guy?”

You look at him curiously, not sure who he’s talking about. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he’s referring to and then it hits you. 

“Kendrick? Oh no, he’s not anything,” You respond. 

Kendrick was one of your patrol partners. You two hooked up once and realized it was too weird. He was younger than you, which didn’t mean much. But that was a huge factor in his performance. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what foreplay was, which meant the sex was dry and not pleasurable in the slightest. 

“It seemed like something the other day,” Joel notes, “Wouldn’t stop staring at you at the town meeting.”

You could not help but notice the slight venom in his tone. 

“Interesting you’re taking notice to other guys who look at me. You jealous, Miller?”

He turns to you finally, his eyes a bit glassy. The whiskey was making him bold, you could tell. 

“Just observant,” He remarks, “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Oh, now you know my type?”

He shakes his head at your response, “I imagine you like them a bit older than him.”

Maybe you were overanalyzing the situation, but it seemed to you that Joel Miller was flirting with you. You felt like he was suggesting you were into him. 

Truth be told, you did like them older. You liked a rugged man who was a bit of a mystery. You also liked assholes. All things Joel Miller was. So maybe you were into him.

You lean in to speak to him quietly, “Are you trying to suggest something?”

“Not at all,” He murmurs, “Just answering your question. Am I wrong?”

You purse your lips, “Not wrong.”

Another awkward silence. 

“Wanna play some pool?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not knowing how to respond. You think his goal was to change the subject and avoid more silence. So you just nod, hopping off your barstool. The two of you make your way through some occupied tables to the one empty pool tables. You grab a stick while Joel starts to corral all the balls and set them in place.

You’ve played pool before, but you were never good. Your ex found a pool table once while you two were traveling and he spent hours teaching you how to play. It led to a screaming match. You decided after that, it just wasn’t for you. 

Joel was patient, watching you line up the white ball and hit it with hardly any force, not breaking up any of the balls. You just shake your head in disappointment. 

“You ever play?”

“Yeah, I just suck.”

“Fair enough,” He replies, taking his shot. You guys go back and forth. You getting no balls in the pockets, him getting all the balls in the pockets. 

You ask him about patrols he’s been on recently, trying to make light conversation. You really just wanted to see if your conversation would lead back to where it started. 

It didn’t. 

Instead you two got more rounds of drinks and played more pool. He became more chatty, standing behind you every time you tried to take a shot, giving you advice here and there. Once you stood straight up after finally getting a ball in a pocket, he leaned in a bit. 

“You see that guy over there?”

He gestured towards an older gentleman at one of the far tables. He seemed like the type to have a Confederate flag hanging outside his house. He also seemed like the type to call a woman a slur if they turned down his advances. Maybe you are just a bitch and assuming all of this. Or your assumptions about a man were right, per usual. 

You turn to Joel, glancing up at him. He was close, his face centimeters away. 

“Mhm?”

“He’s got all those tattoos,” He looks towards the man again, “The one on his neck is a skull with one of those Native headdresses. Looks fuckin’ dumb.”

The way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles. He starts to laugh, too. It was the first time you saw him genuinely smile and damn did it look beautiful on him. His eyes crinkled a bit, his shoulders falling in a very relaxed way. 

You finish up your round of pool and decide it’s time for the both of you to retire back to your houses. Conveniently, your house was right off Rancher Street just like his. You grab your coat off the one barstool, watching Joel put on his. 

“We are going the same way, do you mind walkin’ with me?”

“No problem.”

-

You two walked side by side, your steps almost in sync. It was much darker now, the sun set hours ago. You felt like you went through a time jump. You didn’t feel like you spent tons of time at the Tipsy Bison. 

Joel’s house is before yours on the street, so when you arrive in front of his steps, he stops completely.

“Here’s me,” Joel mutters, “You comin’ in?”

“Should I?” You question, stupidly.

“Well I invited you, so yeah,” He suggests, “You should.”

He walks in front of you, reaching for his front door. His house was comfy and warm. Looking around, you could tell he kept it well maintained. It was clean, only a couple dust bunnies lined the hallway baseboards. He had pictures on the walls and blankets littering the couch.

“I ain’t done this in awhile,” He says, sliding his boots off at the front door. You follow suit, not really taking in the words he said. He stares at you carefully, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, what exactly?”

He approaches you slowly, his demeanor shifting. He looks down at you, his stature a lot bigger than most of the men you’ve been with, you note. He was broad and brilliantly tanned. His dark chocolate hair was speckled with grays. He had some fine lines on his face, especially where he furrowed his eyebrows 24/7. 

“Brought a girl home.”

His brown eyes grow ever darker, his arm enveloping you for a moment. You don’t pull away, letting him bring your body closer to his. You feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, something you’ve not felt with a man in years.

“Feelin’ a bit rusty?” You suggest, your hands resting on his chest.

“Don’t know about that,” He mutters, “Do know I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.”

His comment takes you back, completely sobering you up. The warmth from the alcohol subsides and you blink at him for a minute.

“What do you mean, a while?”

His face centimeters away from yours, again. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, having to get on your tiptoes to do so. 

“Meanin’ every time ’m around you, I think of how amazing your ass looks in those jeans.”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“You’re only now telling me this, Joel?” You ask, playing up that you were annoyed. You were kind of, because what the fuck, you could’ve had him sooner?

“Didn’t think a pretty young thing like you would want me,” He says, “Now I know better.”

He leans down, his lips hardly touching yours. You assume he’s waiting for your move, so you give in first, capturing his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, until he takes notice to how you’re pulling him down further.

He deepens the kiss, pressing your back against one of the walls nearby. His lips were soft, his mustache tickling you a bit. He adds tongue seamlessly, feverishly grabbing you everywhere. Your hips, lower back, your butt. 

I can’t believe I’m making out with Joel right now. 

Your brain stops for a moment when you realize one thing you never thought about before. Where’s Ellie?

It brings you out of the kiss. You pull away slowly, trying not to alarm him too much.

“Is Ellie home?” You mutter, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

He looks to the side, glancing out the back window. 

“Probably, but she stays in the garage out back. She has uhm,” He gestures towards the backyard, “Has a whole set up in there. She never comes in here, don’t worry.”

It reassures you enough to bring him back into the kiss. His hands return to your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but grip his arms, feeling his muscles through his long sleeve. 

“Bring me to bed, Miller,” You moan between kisses, “Need you now.”

He doesn’t say anything before he leans down, hiking your legs up around his waist. He carries you like you’re a light little feather. You use this time to attach your lips to his neck, giving him soft kisses up to his earlobe. 

Joel may be a bit older than you, but he carried you up the stairs like no other 50-something-guy could. He didn’t even fumble, his steps heavy and calculated. Once you two get to the landing, he readjusts you, his hands now holding you up by your ass. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” He murmurs in your ear, walking you into his bedroom. It smells like fresh air, which throws you off a bit. You notice the one window in the corner is cracked slightly, letting in the springtime air. 

He tosses you on his made up bed, making you a bounce a bit. He’s standing over you looking a bit dishelved, his eyes dark with desire. 

He unbuttons his shirt, shaking it off his shoulders. You watch the piece of fabric fall away from him. His upper body is toned, some areas of his stomach and shoulders are littered with scars. The moonlight highlights them, but honestly, they made him hotter. He looked more dangerous, more unattainable for a girl like you. 

“You just gonna gawk?” He teases, leaning down to let his lips meet yours again. In between kisses, he tugs down your pants, leaving you just in your underwear and top. He throws your pants across the room, his hands trailing up your bare thighs. 

“Let me get my top off,” You say pulling away from his eager lips. He sits back on his knees, watching you slowly peel off your top and undershirt. The undershirt has a built in bra that hardly keeps your boobs supported, but it was easier than wearing the uncomfortable bras you usually wore. You throw both shirts across the room before you lean back on your elbows again. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He says, his hands reaching out to touch you. He finds your collarbones first, before letting one hand trace the swell of your breasts. He was taking his time with you. 

“You just gonna gawk?”

He smiles. 

“I am gonna ruin you, girl,” He spits. You stare at him with your best doe eyes, trying to see what kind of rise you could get out of him. 

He grabs one of your boobs, before pushing you all the way on your back. His lips trace all over your body before ghosting right above where your underwear sit on your lower tummy. 

“Joel-” You begin, until he starts tracing your slit with his fingers, right over your panties. 

“Hm?” He chuckles, his soft touches making you writhe under him, “What, sweetheart?”

“Need you-” You choke out, “Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Love to see you beg.”

You knew he was going to be dominant, but you didn’t expect him to be so candid. He seemed so quiet and steadfast in day to day life, so when you see him like this, you knew you were fucked. He was the type to talk you through the whole experience, something you’d never had with another man. Everyone you had slept with was so vanilla. No one was like the guys in the novels you read. Dominant, hungry for more, and vocal. 

“Let’s take these off,” He says wrapping his finger around the band of your underwear. You were so giddy now, you lift your ass a bit so he could get them off you. When you do that, your bare pussy gets so close him that you could feel his breath on your mound slightly. 

“You ever been eaten out before, girl?”

You shake your head, “Yes, but I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Just let me know when you’re about to cum, baby,” Baby, “I know you will.”

You loved how cocky he was. It made the anticipation almost too overwhelming.

He leans down, his tongue flattening over your slit. You watch him close his eyes and instantly get into devouring you. He flicks his tongue up and down, eventually pressing his lips around your mound. You lose all ability to speak, so when he pulls away, you groan in displeasure. 

He says nothing, just put his middle finger and ring finger into his mouth, covering them in his saliva. He looks up at you, those fingers beginning to trace you up and down. 

“You-” Is all you can say before he’s sinking his fingers inside. He reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking as he fucks you with his digits. The wet squelching from the action sends your head into orbit. You cannot believe how good it feels because every other sexual encounter you had the guy would go in dry, maybe giving you kitten licks, and call it eating you out. But not Joel. Joel knew a woman’s anatomy. He knew exactly how to treat it. 

You just moan out his name, letting his actions take you to that familiar heat build up in your tummy. Usually you had to get there yourself. You throw your head back into his pillows, your eyes crushing shut as you take in the feeling. 

“Hey,” You hear Joel growl, “Eyes on me, or I stop.”

Your eyes fly open, watching him return to sucking your clit. As you stare down, you notice him adding another finger into the mix. The pressure felt so good, your walls feeling everything he was giving you. 

“Can I please,” You are about to let go, but you remember you were supposed to tell him, “Cum?”

You can’t even form sentences. 

He pulls away.

“Since you asked nicely,” His lips are wet with your slick, “Cum.”

The magic word that sends you into pure bliss. Your body quakes while he still fucks you with his fingers. You can only chant his name, begging him not to stop. 

He removes his fingers, smiling at your post orgasm face. You blush, suddenly becoming extremely self aware. You had no reason to be timid or shy now, being splayed out like you are in front of Joel. 

He stands tall over you, making you feel so small in his big bed.

“That was so good baby, but I ain’t done with you,” He pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, “Need that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“Jesus fuck,” You moan, still sensitive from what he just did to you. 

He groans, “Name is Joel. No Jesus here.”

He just had to give into the dad jokes. You slap your forehead in disappointment, making him grin a bit. 

“Got you all nice and stretched, now.”

You realize he hasn’t even taken off his pants in that moment, because he pulls down his tented pants to reveal himself to you. He was bigger than you’ve ever had, which sent you gawking again. He pumps himself, watching your widened eyes. 

“You’re too easy to read, girl,” He mutters, “I’ll inch it in, let you get adjusted nicely.”

You lean forward a bit, back onto your elbows, “You’re gonna fucking split me in half.”

He runs his dick between your wet core, which sends shockwaves up your body. 

“Like I said,” He licks his lips, “I got you nice and stretched.”

Him repeating it made you smirk devilishly. He continued to run his cock up and down your wetness, getting ready to plunge into you. 

When he stops right in front of your hole, he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind. 

“Fuck me, Joel Miller.”

He sinks into you, inch by inch. You groan in pleasure. The stretch is nothing like his fingers, it’s even better. 

He’s taking his time, pulling back a bit before pushing back into you. It’s slow, gradual. After three pumps, he leans down to catch your lips. He continues to grind into you, the mixture so intoxicating. You moan into the kiss, your mouth opening up for his tongue to slip in. He tasted like you, which was something you never really tasted before. 

“Your pussy was made for me,” He moans, “Fuckin’ hell.”

He sits back, bringing the pace up a bit, his balls slapping into you now. The sounds were borderline pornographic. The panting, the wetness, the slapping. 

“You’re takin’ me so well,” He grunts, “I want to hear you.”

You cry out as he speeds up, “Please, d-don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps the pace the same as he fondles your boobs. He pinches your perked up nipples, clenching his teeth. You can tell he’s getting close, but instead of chasing that high, he stops. 

He manhandles you, pulling you up like he did when he carried you up the stairs. He somehow keeps his dick inside you as he finds a seat on the bed. He’s holding you above him, completely switching positions. 

“Want you to ride me,” He says, “Need to see those beautiful tits bouncin’.”

You take up the challenge. You rest on your knees first. You circle your hips, dragging your clit across his lower tummy. You never knew you could feel so full before, especially in this position. 

He just stared at you in awe, playing with your tits as you grind down on him. 

You take one of his hands in your own, placing it right below your belly button. 

“I feel you right here, Joel,” You moan, “Fillin’ me up so good.”

You knew he wanted to cum right there because his dicks twitches inside you. 

“You are one dirty girl,” He growls, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum again, talkin’ like that.”

You plant your feet on the bed, finding all your strength to start bouncing on him. He steadies you, bringing his hips up to meet yours. This angle hits different, especially when Joel’s thumb finds your clit again. You couldn’t help yourself, chasing that same high you felt before when his face was between your thighs. 

You look down at him with hooded lids, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yes you are,” He smirks, “Cum all over me baby, I feel you.”

Your release hits you, making you fall to your knees again. Your hips girate, the spasming around Joel’s cock sending him into a moaning mess. He lets your settle for a moment before lifting you back up. His dicks slides out, which causes him to hiss and you to groan. Instead of laying you face up, he throws you face down into the pillows. 

“My turn,” He says, dipping his cock back into you. As soon as it happens, you realize you weren’t done. That same sensitivity was back, but this time you felt the burning pick back up even quicker. He’s settling into a brutal pace, grabbing both your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. You turn your head, trying to get a view of him. 

He was watching himself plunge into you, over and over again. It had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s dripping in sweat, his body glistening, clenching his teeth at the sight of your bodies meeting. 

“‘m bout to cum,” He moans, “Where do you want it?”

“Fuck it into me, Joel.”

The words slips out so quickly. The tipping point hit you both at the same time, the spasming hitting you all over again. You scream into the pillows, biting into them trying not to be too loud. He releases himself into you, stilling his movements. 

He doesn’t say anything when he pulls out, you both just breathe out loudly. You felt so empty without him. 

You had never cum so much in one night before. 

Joel Miller made you cum three times. 

Without any help. 

You hear his footsteps trail to his attached bathroom, hearing some water run from the faucet. You return to laying on your back, unsure if you could trust your legs to stand. Joel’s figure returns to the room, a damp rag in his hands. He smirks at you all the while nudging your legs apart. He slowly drags the rag around your sensitive area, making sure to get any cum that was leaking out of you. After he cleans you up, he wipes off his dick a bit. 

He tosses the rag into a basket of clothes nearby. 

“You want any water?”

You take note to how gentle and sweet he was being after being so aggressive towards you before. It was a side of Joel you really appreciated. He wasn’t talking down to you, he genuinely took your needs into account.

“I think I’ll be okay,” You respond, your eyes finally shutting, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk home.”

“You can stay,” He grumbles, walking to the side of the bed, “We both have patrol in the morning anyway.”

Your eyes fly open, “Shit, I do! Wait-”

“Yeah I’m on with you. For the rest of the week.”

You could scream. This man just gave you the best dick of your life and now you had to patrol with him? You didn’t know how you’d be able to contain yourself.

“Fuck,” You place your hands over your face. You settle in the thought that you needed to sleep if you were going to be alive for morning patrol and you’d worry about your horny desires for Joel.

“C’mere,” He says, pulling you further up the bed. He positions you next to him in the bed, pulling some covers over you, leaving your boobs still out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped one arm under you, letting it rest around your neck. 

His sheets were flannel and so warm. His scent overtook you as soon as you relaxed into the pillows. One of them is the one you bite into earlier. 

You felt at peace, wanting to stay in this spot for as long as possible. 

“I’ll wake you a bit earlier so you can go home and get dressed,” He grumbles, “And…”

You don’t even realize how tired you are. Before Joel can finish his sentence, you fall into a deep slumber, praying sunrise doesn’t come too quickly. 

-

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel woke you up with a gentle nudge. You shoot up, scared for a moment before you take in your environment. You realize he’s fully dressed already. You groan, rubbing your eyes. 

When you start to slip out of bed, you start realizing you’re still completely naked. 

And in Joel’s bed. 

You plant your feet on the wooden floorboards, using the light from the one lamp in the corner of the room to find your clothes. You could not find your panties for the life of you, so you give up and just shove your legs into your jeans and throw your shirt over your head. Joel lets you wake up in silence, not asking you questions until you make it downstairs. 

“I’ll see you at the stables,” He mutters, pouring warm water into a mug that has a tea bag hanging off of it, “You go get changed.”

He was being short, you could tell. You feel a sinking feeling, like he probably regretted what happened last night. Before you could respond, the back door swings open and a smaller frame enters the dark house. 

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, “What are you doing up?”

Her tired eyes are on you. You freeze in your spot, not knowing how to react or what to say. Your head just races with shitshitshitshit.

“I knew I heard your voice last night!” She laughs, “Y’all have fun?”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, not able to think of a response. 

“Ellie!” His voice is stern and borderline scary, “Go back to your room, now.”

It was a demand. 

She just chuckles, grabbing the door handle and pulling it close. 

“See you around, Joel’s lady friend.”

You stand there completely dumbfounded and embarrassed. Joel sips on his hot tea, not really paying attention to your response to Ellie calling you his lady friend. 

“Go get dressed.”

It was another demand. It sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe your sinking feeling was correct. 

Joel only did what he did last night because of the alcohol. It didn’t change how he’d treat or talk to you in real life. You kind of wished he’d just be cruel about it. Like he would just read your mind and tell you how stupid you were to think this would change anything. 

You felt like a fool.  You don’t say anything as you walk to the door and put on your boots. As you walk out of the house, you promise yourself to take it one minute at a time. Don’t overthink everything. Just let it be a one night stand. Don’t make it about your feelings. Be cool about it.

[bunny-jpeg]

hii! brownies with a side of martini with lando for me please 🤭

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? look at the menu! i'm constantly writing up orders! i even accept for fandoms outside of formula one!! as for this suggestion, i am really liking that people really want mafia au lando, it's very nice and allows me to think a little more outside the box with the au! i just don't want them all read the same, right? this won't be the last time you'll see lando in a mafia au!! i hope you enjoy this!! <3

brownies ("you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours.") + martini (mafia au) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, enforcer!lando, baker!reader, kitchen sex, oral sex (reader receiving), affectionate!lando, mentions of au typical violence

"these are amazing, honey." lando groaned as he took a bite of the warm brownies you just made. it was comfort food in a way. you always know how to make them perfectly.

you leaned against the counter of the kitchen, you watched your boyfriend devour a piece of the treat with excitement, you sighed, "i don't know. i think it's a little too sweet."

"no way, impossible." he said, "these are going to sell like crazy at the shop. can i have another one?"

you chuckled, and leaned towards him. you wiped a bit of stray chocolate off the corner of his mouth, "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."

he beamed at you, "well of course." he then snaked an arm around your waist and kissed you on the cheek, "anything of yours that goes into my mouth would shut me up.

this would look like a true domestic scene. a young couple in love, sharing a late night treat on a thursday. but if someone looked closely at the tattoos on your lover's arms. they would know that he wasn't the prince charming on a full rise scholarship to a university. he was an enforcer for the mclaren family.

lando could fight. that was his whole job, he told you about growing up and the brawls he'd get into. he always told you how many he won and told you not to worry at the number his loss.

when he walked down the street and people saw the tattoos along his arms and the cigarette tucked behind his head. they thought he was big trouble, when you two walked together you often got double-takes from people. why was someone like you, with someone like him.

and while you'd go into detail about how much of a caring lover he was. how much he adored you, all the times he brought you home flowers and kept a polaroid photo on you in the back of his jean pocket. there was something undeniable about lando that made you blush.

he was really good in the bedroom.

not that it was the only good thing about him! he went above and beyond anything any other boyfriend had done for you. he was your ray of sunshine. he made sure his woman was taken care of.

you got up onto the counter after you got your sweatpants and panties off. you knew you should be heading to bed soon for another long day at work. but lando was insistent that he made sure that the love of his life got a proper thank you for making him such a nice treat when he came home.

"double chocolate is great and all." he as he got closer to you. bent over to get between those thighs of yours. he held your legs open and licked his lips, "but, it's nothing like your pussy." he chuckled before he pressed a kiss at your slit.

you held onto the edge of the counter while he started to lick at your sex. his tongue between your pussy lips. he groaned against you as he held onto your hips.

lando was a dangerous man, you had heard whispers through the area you lived in about how evil he was. there was a story about him taking out a guy's teeth tooth by tooth and then smashing his jaw.

he could be intimidating, those eyes could go from friend to sharp in mere seconds. his hands were lined with scarring from other the years and many of his tattoos covered up the other scars.

he'd walk around the main street in nothing but a tank top, loose jeans and a gold chain, his face card never failed and his wit was unmatched. but when he stumbled up the bakery you worked at one day, it was like his entire life changed.

now he was between your legs with his tongue up against your pussy. his nose rubbed against your clit which made you clench up. you held onto the back of his head and guided him up against your pussy. the pleasure was a steady throb that made you flushed.

he was in love with you, if he had to describe the feeling. it was like his heart was whole. that the pieces of him were glued back together by your love. and he in turn wanted to give all his love to you.

"please, lando." you said softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, "you know exactly how to do it." you shuddered at the pleasure in your body.

"only the best for you." he said softly, "only the best." before he gave your thigh a little love tap before he continued to lap at your pussy. you held onto him tighter and his cock twitched in his sweats.

you held onto his curly hair tightly and whined a little. you tensed up as you came, finishing on his tongue. the noises you made had lando feeling good all over. he worked quickly to send you right over the edge. when you nails grazed along his scalp his brain turned off for a moment.

"shit." he grumbled against your slit.

you relaxed after a few moments and panted heavily. you rested up against the cabinets behind you and clung to your boyfriend for a moment longer.

he lazily licked at your sweet slit as he nosed at your clit. he was insatiable when it came to you. you then stroked the back of his head lovingly. he groaned a little at the soft touch.

lando was a mafia enforcer, he hurt people for a living. but his true weakness was his baker girlfriend and her lovely desserts. <3

[xan-izme]

Double Life: 6 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: Can't have family dinner without a little family drama

Part 5 Part 7

You and Redhood were currently having a standoff.

You were freaking out a little. Because how long was he standing there? Watching you. . . did he see you use the watch for the portal? how much does he know now? He knows your Spider-woman. This wasn't supposed to happen. Spider-woman was supposed to be dead. Gone.

All of this was going through your mind.

Redhood on the other hand, just didn't like another vigilante doing their business here. Whatever shit he just saw go down, didn't need to be here in Gotham.

"So, you're going to tell me what you're doing here in Gotham? or do I have to put a built in ya for you to talk."

You can tell he isn't bluffing. You've done some research on the vigilantes of Gotham. And Redhood, is known to be one of the most violent ones. You must be cautious.

"Not here to fight. Was just taking care of my own problem." You put your hands up in the air to show you're not causing any harm. But Redhood still kept the gun pointed at you. Walking even more closer to you.

"Whatever problem you have here at Gotham. Is mine as well." Redhood kept a mental note to report this back to Bruce. As Redhood came closer to you. He saw a chip on the ground. An odd looking one.

You mentally curse as you watched Redhood pick up the chip the green goblin anomaly had dropped. You can't risk it being in Redhood's hands right now. You used your web shooter to retrieve the chip.

"This is mine." You stuffed it in your pocket. Redhood frowns. "What's in the chip." He still had the gun pointed to you.

"That's for me to worry about. So, how about we just, go our separate ways and-" Before you can finish your sentence. There was a large explosion at the side of the building. Causing you to fall on your knees and dropping the chip.

"What the hell?" Redhood mumbled. Once he heard multiple gunshots going off, that's when he remembered what he was really here for. He got so distracted he forgot about a gang deal that he was supposed to stop. He cursed under his breath and quickly ran to the window and jumped out of it.

You sighed and was about to just leave this to Redhood. This was his city after all. And he didn't seem to kind on newcomers. But you heard the multiple gunshots and shouting. That sounds like a lot of people. And he's just one man. . .

Redhood was taking cover behind a car. He had already taken down ten guys. But there were a lot more left. He peeks out from behind the car. Trying to come up with a plan to deal with the many more gang members.

Suddenly, you come swinging down with a . . . log? what the hell. where the hell did you get a log?

He watched in utter disbelief as you knocked out a good number of gang members You made your witty comments as you casually roasted the gang members about their hair, tattoos and poor outfit choices.

You were able to buy Redhood some time to get to the leaders of the two gangs. You distracted the gang members as Redhood easily fought his way through to get to the gang leaders who were trying to get away.

Redhood put the leaders down and tied them up. Whilst you had already tied up the other gang members. Redhood turned around, and saw you were already climbing back into the building.

You were in the building. With a silver suitcase that belonged to one of the gangs. You had an odd feeling about it and snatched it. As you opened it, your surprised to see Alchemax tech.

What the hell is Alchemax tech doing all the way here in Gotham. Whatever it is, it's not good. You quickly closed the case and had already decided to take it back home with you.

Before you could leave the building. You heard another shot ring throughout the building. A built was shot to the wall next to you, causing you to stop in your tracks. You slowly turn around to see it was Redhood.

"That case doesn't belong to you." Redhood spoke to you aggressively. Which you fully understand. But he doesn't understand the dangers of what was in this case. and you couldn't explain it to him.

"Sorry buddy. But this is coming with me. You understand right?" You don't even wait for an answer "Ah, knew you'd understand. Thanks!" You quickly dashed out of the room. You hear Redhood following.

Right before you could use your web to get out, Redhood tackles you.

You two fight and struggle to get the case from one another. suddenly, as he ripped the case away from you, he took of your makeshift mask that covered your face.

. . . .

You stayed silent as you realized he has seen your face. You frown, deeply upset about this situation.

"Damn, you're just a kid." Redhood huffed out as he gripped onto the case.

You were upset with the turn of events here, and used both of your webs and shot them at him. Using your supper strength and pulling hard, causing him to stumble, and for his own mask to fall off.

You yanked the mask towards you and held it. Giving him a cheeky grin. "Look, now we're even." You then see his face, and how angry he looks. He looks young too, has to be in his early to mid 20's. and then you see part front of his hair that looked dyed white. You were about to make a snarky comment about it. Then suddenly, you two hear sirens. The cops. For that quick split moment that Redhood was distracted, you threw his mask/helmet at him, he caught it with both hands, causing him to let go of the case.

You used your web shooter and was able to quickly get your hands on the case. You grabbed your mask and quickly slipped it on and ran out of Redhood's sight.

You safely made it home. You stored the case in your secret hiding spot in the bathroom. You gave a quick report on your watch and sent it to HQ.

This isn't good. Redhood saw your face, and you saw his. But that doesn't secure anything. But what worried you most, was Alchemax. Alchemax gave you a hard time in New York. Their, on the low schemas and collaborating with other big-time criminals for more experiments that hurt not only animal subjects, but humans as well. You had to get in touch with Miles and your uncle Aron to inform them of this situation.

As you were in deep thought. A knock was heard at your door. Then you hear Damian's voice.

"Y/n? father wants to make sure you're ready for tonight's dinner." He spoke from the other side of the door.

You let out a deep sigh. Sitting on your bed. So much has happened today. From your panic attack earlier this morning to this moment now. That you had completely forgotten about the dinner.

"Yeah, be done in five." You responded with a very noticeable tired tone. Damian nods to himself. "Okay." And with that, Damian left to meet up with Alfred and his father downstairs. Damian isn't all too happy about seeing Jason. And just hopes Jason will act properly and not make you upset during dinner time.

Bruce had bought you another dress, it was nice and loos and kind of made you look younger. Probably due to the designed. Your hair was let down. You were fidgeting with your bracelet. A little nervous to meet this Jason guy. Your already on good terms with the others, you just hope not to make a bad impression. You were told Jason is a little complicated, so you had to be cautious.

You left your room and bumped into Tim. You and Tim began to have small talk about random things. He mainly asked you what you were more interested besides from video games and your deep interest in Geology.

As you and Tim talk while walking downstairs. Damian was able to slip into your room without anyone's knowledge.

Damian made a beeline for your desk. He searched your desk. Finding mainly schoolwork paper, and some old receipts, which he found off, why did you still have old receipts?

His eyes shifted to your small trash can. And here he sees the crumbled up note you threw away from before. He picked out the note and opened it up.

Call if you need help.

-Miguel

Damian began to wonder who this Miguel person was. With the way you acted when you read the note, you and Miguel don't seem to be on good terms. Mainly you not being friendly to the thought of him. Damian slipped the note in his chest pocket and left your room quietly.

Everyone was downstairs at the dining room table. Dinner was served, but Jason hadn't arrived yet. You were sat next to Bruce who was at the head of the table on your left. And Tim being at on your right, Damian sat across from you, Dick being next to Damian.

"Jason's late." Bruce sighed out under his breath. He looked at you with an apologetic expression. But you just smile, before you could say anything. Damian scoffed.

"What did you expect. That big oaf can't be held accountable for these events. Won't be surprised if he doesn't arrive at all."

"Damian." Dick seemed to not like what Damian said.

Just from this. You know that Damian isn't fond of Jason. But then again, Damian isn't fond of anyone that much.

"Y/n, your aunt called. She said there was a party for your uncle she wanted you to attend." Bruce changed the subject. You paused from the change of subject.

Before you could speak, your cut off once again. The door opens, and in comes Alfred. "Master Jason has arrived." Alfred steps to the side and your heart drops.

Jason. . . Redhood is Jason!?

You and Jason just stare at each other, wide eyed.

"Jason, your late." Bruce sighed out. Jason just kept staring at you. A lot going through his mind right now. You began to get nervous and very anxious. You avoided eye contact with Jason and took a sip of your water.

Jason frowns and took his seat. "Traffic." Was all he said as he sat next to Dick. Bruce began to introduce you to Jason in a more formal way.

Jason just stared at you and leaned back in his chair. "You're Y/n?" Jason spoke with dismay. You set your cup down and gave him a strained smiled. "Yes."

It was silent for a moment, only the silverware clicking against the plates could be heard. Then Bruce decided to continue speaking with you. "Anyways, Y/n. The party your aunt wants you to attend."

"Yeah, my uncle was promoted to captain." You took a sip from your water, still feeling Jason staring at you.

"That's good. How long has your uncle been in the police force?" Bruce asked as he was cutting up his stake.

"Almost 15 years I think." You're not fully sure. You just know your uncle Jeff was a police man for a long time.

Jason lets out a loud hum. "Your uncles a police man. . . interesting." You looked at Jason. The two of you make eye contact. You let out a small, forced smile to Jason. Jason doing the same to you.

There was a clear tension between you and Jason. He knows your secret, and you know his. The question is, who has more to lose?

[copper-16]

You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 

It’s just, nobody had. 

But perhaps that would change. 

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 

And god was Misa wrong. 

This woman wasn’t attractive. 

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 

It was her choice. 

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 

[littlestardude]

⏤͟͟͞͞☆Dating Kenny HCS|| Reader x Kenny McCormick

✰ - SFW & NSFW - ✰

Plot: Just sum HCS!

Note: I love Kenny McCormick so fucking much he's so pookie smookie, also first post yippee!

TW: Drugs, death bcs of drugs (its Kenny he comes back-), incest ment (concerning rats), smut HCS at the end

Gender: AFAB Gen neutral

✰ - SFW - ✰

FLIRTS NONSTOP. all day every day, he just doesn't fucking stop. But the moment you flirt back.

Bro is dead, 6 feet under, giggling and kicking his feet

Has trouble falling asleep and sometimes you'll wake up and he'll be just staring at you

"Kenny what the fuck are you doing... "

"You're so pretty... Can I not stare at my partner in the middle of the night!? :(("

Demands you cuddle him to sleep

Did I mention touchy?

Yea

Super fucking touchy

Literally has to be touching you all the time as if you we're his phone in his pocket or he'll freak out

Actually learned the value of life once you stepped in. He's died only once.

Why you ask? In his words

"I can NOT just say no to free drugs"

Drugs in question were something called... Crazy 8...basically 8 fucking drugs mixed together.

Yea he wasn't gonna survive.

Now you have to keep an eye on him, and tell him to just stick with weed

Oh yeah weed

Bro is toasted most of the time.

AND reeks of weed 24/7

Anytime you smell weed the first thought that pops into your head is, "where's Kenny? "

Basically weed is a comforting smell to you now 💀

Asked you to get high with him

You were reluctant at first but then you tried it... Let's just say it's a common occurrence now

You think he's flirty when he's sober? When he's high omfg.

Compliments like crazy, and can actually take compliments back when he's high

You adore high Kenny because he literally turns into the silliest mf alive

Super duper touchy when you're both high, like on top of each other the whole time

Piercings out the wazoo

Tattoos to come...

You let him shower at your place so he actually became CLEAN once you started dating.

Like his hair is actually touchable now, and not greasy

He's still a rat boy tho, and does dirty rat boy things

Actually HAS rats

You came over one time and he introduced you to his ratty children

"This is Frankie, and Frankie Jr, and Frankie Jr Jr, and that's Maggy, and Rosie and- FRANKLIN JR GET OFF YOUR SISTER RIGHT NOW! >:("

"Um, Ken... I don't know how to tell you this but rats dont care about incest..."

Almost cried, "it's like medieval Spain all over again... "

You pat his back, "it never gets easier... " you sighed dramatically

Loves animals, you guys wanna get a dog and cat together!

He loves you and adores you so much

He thinks you're the best person to ever come out of this cruel world, and he tells you that all the time

You also love him. So much. You think he's the prettiest, sweetest boy

You tell him that most of the time when you think he's asleep, he usually isn't because he loves hearing it

Back to the weed thing, LOVES when u guys order McDonald's when ur both high and have the munchies

Bro can throw down 2 big macs, 1 double quarter pounder, 20 piece chicken nuggets, and 2 orders of large fries and still be like

"I need something sweet... " 💀

Anytime you're out with your friends, Kenny's usually wearing his parka and you're the only one who can understand Kennish

Also holding hands the whole time

It took you awhile to get used to the fact you had a super clingy partner but you got used to it

You guys were able to get a place together eventually after high school

It's super shitty but it's home <3

You'll eventually upgrade after grueling work and endless shifts

But you definitely make time for each other

✰ - NSFW - ✰

(The fun begins *rubs hands evily together*)

SWITCH KENNY SUPREMACY!!! Literally does not mind either, as long as he's with you and he's naked? And you're naked? Bros chilling

Fucking loves oral, receiving and giving

First time he ate you out, you were on cloud mf 9, seeing stars n shit

He LOVES your thighs, like before he eats you out he just likes kissing and squeezing your thighs

HOWEVER. The first time you sucked him off. Omg, HIS thighs were MESMERIZING.

Something about boys thighs... Just seeing them pushed together, your fucking weakness.

His thighs are pale and ever so slightly plushy... Help me

KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH HIS MF HANDS‼️

He grabs you and stimulates you in the best fucking spots

LOVES COCKWARMING. NEED I SAY LESS.

You guys will just be chilling watching a movie, and he'll just go like

"Babeeeee... " that's literally all he needs to say bcs you know what he wants.

After some time of just being on his dick it kinda hits you, "I'm on his cock, I could literally do what ever I want... " you think, evily

You'll shift your body around to where you're looking at him and he already knows what's coming, his hands are IMMEDIATELY on your hips

And you start slowly bouncing up and down

Doesn't take him long to start making noises

He's very vocal during sex, he sees no point in staying silent

Plus the first time he moaned super loud during sex you literally came on the spot.

Now he can't help but moan and whimper when you're on top of him because he knows you love it

AFTERCARE KINGG

Usually urges you two to take a shower after sex

Sometimes ends up into shower sex if the both of you still have the energy

You bought a shower stool so you both could fuck in the shower because one time he almost slipped and will NEVER live it down

"IT WAS SUPER SLIPPERY OKAY"

"You stepped on the soap babe... You almost went flying"

Yea a shower stool and those mats for the shower floor