#to make his own choices or to try things himself so instead of wanting her attention

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

Hiiii

can you plz write future lookism AU where 1st gen kings + James find out that their daughter (high schooler) has a boyfriend I think it would be hilarious

thanks ❤

I don't know whether it's hilarious, but here we are, I had fun writing this❣️ hope you enjoy :)

Characters: James Lee, Kitae Kim, Jichang Kwak, Jinrang, Jaegyeon Na, Taesoo Ma, Seongji Yuk.

JAMES LEE

He will create a nurturing yet disciplined environment where enjoyment and growth coexist. His daughter won’t be spoiled, he loves her deeply, but to him, love also means ensuring her well-being and development.

So when a no-name, good-for-nothing loser ends up dating his daughter, James is absolutely stumped, how did this clown even manage to get near her?

He’ll give a cold, deadly stare and instantly dig up the guy’s full history, geography, and psychology like it’s a mission.

If this guy genuinely makes his daughter happy, and James believes she’s made an informed, mature decision, he won’t interfere. He wants her to grow as a person, and relationships, good or bad, are part of that journey.

But let me be very clear: if something goes wrong, Mr. Boyfriend might find himself mysteriously missing a few fingers... or limbs. Who knows? 🤭

KITAE KIM

Immediate axe-out!!! Mr. Boyfie , I hope your cardio's good.....run.

Kitae isn’t entertaining any cockroaches around his daughter. He knows how men can be, he’s seen it firsthand, starting with his own scumbag of a father.

No amount of begging will work. In his mind, his daughter is still way too young to even think about dating. There’s a right time for everything, and this is not it.

Now imagine a 6’7” giant charging with an axe in one hand, chasing down Mr. Boyfie… and the daughter running after him, trying to stop the madness.

Even in the rare event, he gives his approval, because no matter what, he doesn’t want to be the reason for his daughter’s sadness—he’ll keep a very strict eye.

Tears? Bad mood? One wrong move? That axe is coming out of his pocket again🤣

JICHANG KWAK

Think of how Manager Kim reacted when Minji brought a guy home, that will be Jichang. 😂

Now, he’s not the overprotective type at all. He believes his daughter should live her best life. But her well-being? That’s everything to him.

He’ll run a background check, not just for safety, but also for fun, and might even throw in a casual threat involving a bullet, just for laughs.

If the guy turns out to be kind, genuine, and respectful, Jichang has no issue.

But if he finds even the slightest red flag, he’ll push for a breakup fast. His daughter can hate him if she wants, but he refuses to sit back and watch someone else break her heart.

JINRANG

He’s got a solid head on his shoulders. Like a wolf: calm but overprotective. He knows choices like these shape a person for life.

First question he asks the guy after he hears she’s dating:“Are you James Lee’s dog?” LMAO.....yes, that’s real😂😂 He’s testing the guy’s character, strength, independence, whether this boy has his own backbone or just blindly follows others.

His daughter’s safety and well-being are his top priorities, but he’ll never suffocate her growth.

Instead, he gently makes her do a pinky promise: “No matter what happens, or who walks into your life, always remember, you can rely on Dad. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of.” A genuinely good father, with the right balance of care and protection.

He’s not against dating. Even if things fall apart, he’ll handle it with maturity and calm, but let it be known: if the guy steps out of line, he will vanish. Murder? Not off the table.

JAEGYEON NA

He will literally run his car over the poor guy, zero shame, zero fear. The law? Irrelevant. Because in Jaegyeon's eyes, this boy already broke the first and most sacred law: pursuing his precious daughter.

Now imagine this: his daughter is on a sweet little ice cream date with her boyfriend. Jaegyeon spots them by chance.

Suddenly, it turns into a full-on Bollywood scene, his car turns in slow motion, dramatic background music blaring, jaw dropped, eyes bulging, multiple-angle cinematic shots🤣 Then... he floors the accelerator.....full speed ahead, aiming straight at Mr. Boyfie. 💀

He’s hurling every curse and profanity that comes to mind. Mr. Boyfie is so traumatized that he might just beg her to break up.

Jaegyeon isn’t against love. He just won’t let some average Joe ruin his daughter’s happiness. Teenage hormones? He knows all about them. He’s certain she’ll find the right one someday. But definitely not right now.

TAESOO MA

Another one in the category of healthy dads with strong boundaries. When he finds out his daughter’s dating, he doesn’t lose it. He sees it as a natural part of teenage life, but warns her to stay cautious and alert to red flags.

He’s raised her with strong values and a clear sense of self, so he trusts she wouldn’t just fall for any random guy.

Not throwing shade at above men, but come on, have you seen how Taesoo treats Hudson?It’s a tearjerker....that perfect mix of discipline and motivation, of grit and love.

He won’t meddle unnecessarily in her personal life, but he’ll always be there in the background, offering a gentle yet firm nudge to make sure she’s walking the right path.

SEONGJI YUK

The chillest dad out of the entire bunch. Honestly, all he wants is for his precious, adorable little girl to be happy and healthy,that’s it.

He won’t throw tantrums or launch threats. His daughter would likely come to him herself and say, “Dad… I have a boyfriend.” He’ll probably just nod and say, “Okay. Just be careful. And make sure he respects you, not just as my daughter, but as a human being.”

But deep down… a quiet sadness will settle in. Time moves too fast. The same little girl who once held his hand just to walk straight is now slowly stepping away. He’ll have quiet moments where he mulls it over. He’ll sigh, smile faintly, and accept it.

Because at the end of the day, if she’s safe, healthy, and truly happy, then he’s okay too. That’s what being a father means to him.

[otp-after-dark]

I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that they’re still trying to gaslight us about Nick Blaine, or that maybe… they actually believe this crap.

I just read this ELLE piece declaring that Nick’s betrayal in Season 6 “proves” men will always choose power over love, and that his confession—about trading June’s plan to protect himself—was the ultimate confirmation that he’s no different from the rest of them. On the surface, the episode wants you to see it that way. The writers clearly want the audience to feel the gut-punch of betrayal. To close the door on Nick Blaine as the last “good guy” in Gilead.

But the thing is—it’s how blatantly the show rewrites its own history to sell us on this “lesson.” How do these fools not see that?! And proceed to continue to sell this complete and utter crap.

Because if you’ve actually watched the show—if you’ve sat through six seasons of this man quietly, consistently risking himself for June—it doesn’t add up. This whole storyline is wildly out of character. It isn’t earned. It doesn’t track emotionally. It doesn’t even make logistical sense given what we know about Nick and where he’s been leading up to this moment.

And let’s not pretend June doesn’t play a role in all of this either. Can someone please acknowledge that? Ugh. She’s not some innocent, passive victim of Nick’s choices—she’s part of this dynamic. She knows who he is. She’s made her own compromises. She’s lied, killed, manipulated people too. She understands him. That’s why their connection has always worked—it was never built on fantasy. It was built on recognition. And the audience knows that.

And oh yeah—let’s not forget in the end, he chooses her. He gives up his marriage. He walks away from the carefully constructed life he built to stay close to her. His last act is loving her, choosing her, and letting her go because he thinks it’s what she wants. So… what are these people watching, exactly?

You can’t spend seasons showing us a man who helped orchestrate Fred’s murder, who saved June over and over, who stayed in Gilead specifically to keep protecting her from the inside—and then suddenly flip the switch and say, “Actually, he just did it for himself.” That’s not a twist. That’s a rewrite. And it’s a lazy one.

You want to talk about tragic? How about a man who was trafficked into war as a teenager, weaponized by Gilead, radicalized by Lawrence, and then trapped in a cycle where every choice he made was a lesser evil. And still—still—he found a way to protect June. Still, he held on to love. Still, he looked at her and said, “It’s always been you."

What this article calls betrayal, I call exhaustion. A man pushed to the brink, cornered by a regime he’s been trying to escape for years, reaching for the only leverage he has left. And even then, he tries to explain it to June. He tells her he loves her and chooses her. He begs her not to look at him like that. To open her eyes and face it.

But sure. Let’s flatten all of that into “men will always choose power.” Let’s ignore six seasons of emotional complexity because the show suddenly decided it was time to close the door on him. Let’s pretend June didn’t see herself in Nick’s compromises, or that she didn’t understand them because she’s made them too.

Here’s the truth: this isn’t a story about men being irredeemable. It’s about writers who no longer understood the story they were telling—and needed Nick to fall in order to prop up the version of June they chose to end with.

Nick didn’t betray June. The show betrayed Nick (and by extension, June). And it betrayed us for ever believing they’d honor the soul of this character instead of using him as a scapegoat to make June’s “freedom” look clean.

So no, I don’t buy it. I never will. And I’m not clapping. And I’m definitely not rewriting history just to fit the finale’s hollow, cynical message.

[genderqueer-miharu]

I love watching caligula effect and comparing the cast with the milgram characters to see which characters remikd me of whom. Anyways, Izuru's storyline is very reliniscent of Haruka's ra

[dunmesh]

this panel from the world guide of falin being surrounded by other girls while laios is all alone kills me because. that's it. that's the key difference in their journeys.

as laios states himself, he left the village in order to create a home for him and falin elsewhere. a home that won't collapse due to others' hatred and fears like their old home did, a home where they are loved and accepted unconditionally. but as he soon found out, even before earning money, or having walls surrounding him and a roof above his head- what he so earnestly desired was to meet other people who will accept him for who he is as well. instead, he kept being tormented by those around him, shunned and sneered at. his loneliness quickly became all-consuming until he truly had nothing left except for the monsters in the pages of his book, but even that became a target of mockery and destroyed. that's why ever since the day he left the village, he never felt that he truly made the right choice. so he kept running away: unable to resist and unable to accpet.

and an ocean away from him there was his sister, who never managed to fully fit in herself. but unlike him, she met a person who became a home to her and learned what a true friendship was for the first time in her life. and laios clearly realizes that too when he finally sees falin and marcille together, he can tell his sister obtained the greatest treasure there is on her own- the exact thing he never managed to find anywhere himself, thus coming back empty-handed to the sister he left the village for.

but when you read this part of the manga, laios's focus is on falin's loneliness, not his own. he talks about how it hurts thinking about all those moments she had to spend alone because he wasn't there for her, so it almost sounds like he's the one who couldn't bear her suffering and therefore decided to not let her go again. but we do get a glimpse of their first meeting after that almost-decade long separation in the manga, and then we see more of that in the world guide and daydream hour- and it becomes abundantly clear that it was falin who was trying to protect and save him from this pit of loneliness and depression he was in.

so instead of just doing his best to atone for leaving her behind in the village and making sure she is never lonely again, it might also be that laios was desperately clinging to the one person in the world he felt that accepted and loved him unconditionally. those words he used to describe his motivation to stay by falin's side are the exact words she would've used as well; she couldn't bear leaving him behind in this state. in a sense, they were each other's shackles.

but then she did. she died for him and their friends, and ironically enough, it was by leaving him alone like this that he was finally able to stand on his own and put his full trust in others. to have the courage to reveal who he is and give others the opportunity to accept him after such a long time of hiding. it was a long journey, but his hiding finally came to an end when he faced the others after shedding his monster form. and i love that the person who was falin's "home" all those years away from laios, marcille, became just as meaningful to him during their time separated from falin- the first one to find him and show him that he isn't alone anymore. just as he did for her.

so at the end of the story when falin talks about all the places she would like to go, it's not just that she wants to pursue her own dreams- but that she actually feels free to do so and go anywhere she desires. and one of the main reasons for that is that her brother finally found new people he wants to be with; his own home.

[bloatedandalone04]

Rich in Life

Summary: Bob is known to be the shy, quiet and kinder one of out the whole dagger squad, and he didn’t mind the ‘soft’ reputation one bit, because he knew the real him. The version of himself that came out whenever he got his wife alone, which, luckily for him, was every single night.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, unprotected sex, swearing, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, hair pulling, fingering, all that good stuff, i had writer’s block and for some reason the only person i could write about was bob, so...enjoy.

It was Saturday night, and instead of being at home by himself like he had grown used to, Bob was out at The Hard Deck, perched on a stool with a Ginger Ale in his hand as he watched Phoenix kick Hangman’s ass at pool. 

It was entertaining, to say the least, because Jake was usually so stuck up and cocky about everything and anything, it was nice to watch his fellow aviator effortlessly beat him at something. 

The bar was lively as usual, but Bob didn’t mind it. He had ditched his usual khakis for a white tee and jeans, his casual clothing choice outside of his work uniforms. 

As he listened to the comical bickering, he looked over at the bar and watched as you talked with Penny, a kind smile on your lips as you gave her your full attention. God, you were so sweet and so sexy, Bob was still in a little disbelief that he is the one who gets to take you home after this. 

He adjusted his glasses and looked over at Jake, who was smirking at him, and Bob just shook his head. He’d grown accustomed to the teasing remarks and looks from his co-workers about how hot his wife is. He knew you were fucking gorgeous, he’s married to you. 

“I still don’t know how you landed her, Bob,” he said as he bent down to line up his shot again. “She’s a fucking stunner. Total smokeshow. I don’t know what she sees in you. No offense.”

Bob just shook his head again as Bradley reached over and smacked the blond on his shoulder while Nat glared at him from across the table. He didn’t care to say anything back as he turned his head and saw you begin to make your way through the crowded space, your drink held up a bit as you carefully maneuvered between bodies. 

Your pretty engagement ring and wedding band reflected off the lights as you settled beside him once again and leaned up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. He was still a little taller than you, even from his place on the stool, but it also made him the perfect height for you to snuggle against him. “Sorry I took so long. Penny is so sweet, I just had to stay and talk with her for a bit,” you murmured, a gorgeous smile on your lips as you sipped on your red drink. “But I’m back now.”

Bob smiled back at you as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. “It’s okay. Penny is great, I don’t blame you for wanting to hang with her instead of us guys and Nat,” he said, knowing Phoenix was far too focused on drilling into Jake to hear his words. “You know, you look stunning tonight.”

You really did. Your pretty blue and pink sundress looked gorgeous on you, and it was one of Bob’s favorite things you owned. Of course you knew that, though. 

A blush coated your face as you nuzzled your head against his shoulder, hiding as if you were embarrassed by his words. “Are you trying to ensure you get lucky tonight when we get home? Or are you just being your natural sweet self?” you teased, nudging his side with your elbow. “I can never tell with you, baby.”

Bob grinned, his hand tightening its protective hold on your hip. “Can you blame me? You’re the most gorgeous girl in the room,” he said back, knowing just how lucky he was to have you by his side, and he loved the flirty banter that always happened between you and him every time you went out together. “I just want to make sure you’re having a good time, baby.”

You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m having a great time,” you said, winking up at him as you moved closer to his side and sipped your drink some more. “But I kinda can’t wait to get back home with my hot husband.” you added, shrugging casually as you slipped your left hand into the back pocket of his jeans and gave him a teasing squeeze. 

His breath hitched slightly and he held back a low groan as he leaned into your touch by pure instinct. “Is that so?” he hummed, trying to keep his cool in front of his friends. He was known as the sweet, shy and quiet guy at work and in public, but with you, he was as dirty as it got. 

But that side of him was just for you. 

Bob lifted his hand and cradled your jaw between his fingers as he looked you in the eyes. “I think we can arrange that, sweet girl,” he said, his tone promising as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips

You moaned softly against his lips, because you were shameless as much as you are sweet, and that’s one of the things Bob loves about you. ��Bob,” you whispered against his lips as your fingers teased the collar of his shirt. “Take me home. Please?” 

Bob stood up and set his forgotten drink aside before he wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you towards the door. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said quietly as he led you out towards his truck, where he kissed you a few more times before getting in the driver’s seat. 

As soon as he was behind the wheel, he reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers as he drove. Once he parked the truck in the driveway, Bob was pushing open his door before rounding the front of the truck to open yours. He gathered you into his arms as he walked with you towards the front door, his lips peppering kisses along your neck. 

When he got you up to your shared room, Bob laid you down on the bed, his gaze heated as he looked at you. His hands were already tugging at your dress as he kissed you deeply, tasting the fruity drink you’d had at the bar on your tongue. 

He pulled away and pressed a few kisses to your shoulder blade before he looked at you with nothing but adoration and desire in his eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands as if you were the most fragile, most stunning thing he’d ever seen. “I need to taste you.”

You moaned at his words, your eyes unguarded and trusting as you writhed under him. You reached down and pulled off your dress, tossing it aside to find later, which left you in just your panties since you skipped a bra tonight. 

Bob’s hands gripped your knees and spread your thighs, his eyes darkening as he looked at the lace clinging to your heat. You were so hot, he was having a hard time taking his eyes off your gorgeous body, but your soft laugh had his gaze meeting yours. “Taste me,” you encouraged as he pulled off his shirt and kicked off his jeans.

Your words definitely had an impact on Bob as he leaned down and nuzzled his face against you, inhaling your all too familiar scent. He was rather slow as he hooked his fingers into the waistline of your panties and tugged them down your legs, showing him the pretty view of your glistening folds. He leaned in and licked a stripe up your slit before flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, and Bob moaned at your taste, so addictive and sweet and all for him. 

He worshipped you with increasing fervor, switching between gentle licks and hard sucks that had you bucking against his face and sliding your hand into his hair. “Mm, I love tasting you,” he murmured, one of his hands sliding up your stomach to palm your breast as his thumb teased your nipple.

Your head fell back on the pillow as you writhed on the bed, your fingers tightening in his hair. “Bob…fuck, baby,” you gasped, arching your back as he devoured you like a man starved. 

Bob groaned, feeling his cock twitch in his boxers as his tongue explored your most private part. His other hand gripped your hip, keeping you pinned to the bed as he feasted on your sweet taste. 

His hand left your chest and slid down your torso, and he slipped two long fingers inside you, your arousal and his saliva giving him easy entrance. You were so wet for him and warm and tight, Bob had no control over the way his hips bucked against the mattress. You were so hot. 

“Come on, baby,” he mumbled against your pussy, his lips brushing against your clit. “Let go for me, I got you.”

When he curled his fingers and sucked harder on your puffy clit, you came for him with a soft cry, your eyes squeezing shut as your back arched. Bob licked and lapped at your folds greedily until you had quieted down and fell back on the bed, your chest heaving with uneven breaths. He crawled up your body, slowly pulling his fingers out of you as he did so, and he licked them clean before kissing you deeply.

Then he pushed his boxers down and slid inside you. “God, baby,” he groaned against your mouth as he began to slowly roll his hips against yours. You were so tight, Bob had to hold himself back from fucking into you like he wanted to. “You feel so good, taking me so well.”

He broke the kiss and trailed his lips along your jaw, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as he picked up the speed a bit, making your mouth part as soft moans left your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your back arching as his cock immediately filled you. You were still sensitive since he’d just made you cum a mere five seconds ago, but you didn’t mind it at all. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, your body shaking a bit as you tipped your head back on the pillow. “Bob…oh, my fucking God.” 

Bob lifted his head and kissed you again, his tongue brushing against yours and muffling your whimpers. “I love feeling you wrapped around me. So tight and warm,” he rasped, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as his hips snapped a bit harder against yours. “So sexy, baby.” 

He reached down in between your bodies, his fingers instantly finding your throbbing clit, and he teased the bundle of nerves as he increased the pace even more until you were shaking once again. 

“Gonna make you cum again, sweet girl,” he promised, his voice low and husky. “Right here on my cock. Just for me.”

In public, Bob was a softie (for the most part), but when he was with you, he had no filter, and the filthiest things freely left his mouth. He knew it drove you wild, the switch up that only happened with you, and he knew how much dirty talk turns you on. 

You were shuddering from the sensitivity, your eyes rolling back a bit as you moaned louder. “Just for you,” you echoed, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as your hands slid into his hair and made it a mess. “Just yours.” 

Bob moaned, peppering kisses along your shoulders as he reached down to grip your knee with his free hand, and he lifted it slightly to change the angle. “Just mine,” he agreed against your skin, his body heating up as a light layer of sweat formed on his forehead. When you clenched around him, he let out a strangled sound as he fucked you into the bed. “That’s it, baby, squeeze me.”

Your moans and whines were growing louder and louder, and your fingers were beginning to pull at his hair. “Bob,” you whimpered, guiding his lips back to yours in a messy kiss. 

Your hips were bucking against his as his fingers continued to rub fast circles onto your clit, and he knew you were close when he felt you tighten around him once again. “Come on, sweet girl,” he murmured, his body pressed right up against yours as he rocked his hips into yours. “Cum for me again.”

Your body tensed up in his arms as you broke the kiss and tipped your head back, a long, loud cry leaving your lips as you came around him, enveloping him in a warm wave as you shuddered uncontrollably. 

“Fuck yes,” Bob groaned, his hips stuttering as you clung onto him. A few seconds later, he was there too, and he was filling you up entirely as you whimpered and trembled under him. 

He gave a few more slow thrusts before he pulled out of you, and he watched as his glistening cock slid free from your warm body, and a bead of cum dripped from you. You were so beautiful, he’d never get tired of watching you come undone for him. 

Bob leaned down and pressed a softer kiss to your lips, and when he pulled away, his mouth was turned upwards in a lazy grin. “I love you,”

You hummed, draping your arms around his shoulders as you finally settled under him. “I love you too,” you said back, keeping your legs wrapped around him as you kissed him again in a post-sex make out session. “Stay like this, right here. Don’t get up yet.”

“Okay,” he whispered, holding you tightly in his arms as he gently eased his body down on top of yours, covering you like a shield. “We’ll stay like this for as long as you want to.”

You nodded slowly, a soft smile on your lips as you smoothed out his messy hair and adjusted his glasses. Then you were leaning in and kissing him again, and you continued to for a long time after that.

[hxney-lemcn]

Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader

summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.

tw: none that I can think of.

a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3

wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)

Master List

You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).

❥ Leona Kingscholar

…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well��not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.

❥ Kalim Al-Asim

He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).

❥ Vil Schoenheit

Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.

❥ Idia Shroud

Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.

❥ Malleus Draconia

Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.

[rafes-slut]

hi! can you do one where its like dummy reader and overprotective rafe? They are at a party together and reader is taking to this guy who obviously wants to get in her pants but shes to dumb to realize so rafe has to get involved and takes her and then fucks her hard?

Too Naïve for Your Own Good

Rafe Cameron x Dummy!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), Rough Sex, Spanking, Choking, Overstimulation, Degradation, Slight Praise, Overprotectiveness, Possessiveness, Public Tension, Slight Exhibitionism (semi-public setting), Rough Language, Jealousy, Manipulation, Dubcon Undertones (power imbalance).

The music was too loud, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and alcohol. You had no idea why you were even here—oh, right. Because Rafe wanted to go. And when Rafe wanted something, you never really had a choice.

He had promised not to leave you alone, but that lasted all of ten minutes before he disappeared into the crowd. You stood near the drinks table, awkwardly stirring the watered-down vodka-cranberry you barely sipped from. You weren’t good at reading people, but when a guy approached you, smiling and making conversation, you thought nothing of it.

He was friendly. Nice, even. Asking you simple questions, laughing at your dumb little comments. You liked that. You liked being listened to, liked the attention. What you didn’t notice—but Rafe did—was the way his eyes kept drifting down, lingering on your dress, on the bare skin of your thighs, on the neckline that dipped just enough to tease.

You didn’t notice how he edged closer, his fingers brushing your wrist as he pretended to fix your bracelet. You didn’t notice the way he angled himself toward you, subtly blocking anyone else from joining the conversation.

From across the room, where he was laughing at something Topper said, his entire body went rigid the second he spotted you. His hand clenched into a fist, jaw locking as he took in the scene before him. That guy wanted to fuck you. It wasn’t even a question. It was a fact.

And you, like the oblivious, naive little thing you were, had no fucking clue.

Before the guy could inch any closer, before he could try and put his hands somewhere they didn’t belong, Rafe was there.

You barely had a second to react before a strong grip wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back so fast you almost tripped. “Rafe—” You gasped, wide-eyed as he pulled you away.

“Don’t fucking talk.” His voice was low, sharp, dangerous.

The guy called after you, confusion laced in his voice, but Rafe didn’t even look back. His grip was tight, borderline bruising as he dragged you through the house. He wasn’t stopping. Not for you, not for anyone who turned their heads to watch. You didn’t understand what was happening.

“Rafe, slow down—”

He didn’t. Instead, he yanked open a door, shoved you inside, and locked it behind him. The party noise dulled, replaced by the sound of your quick, unsteady breathing.

You turned to face him, eyes wide with confusion. “What—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice was sharp, dripping with frustration. He took a step forward, and you instinctively took one back, pressing against the sink.

You blinked up at him, mouth opening and closing. “I—I was just talking—”

“He wanted to fuck you,” Rafe snapped. “And you just stood there, giggling like a dumb little slut.”

Your lips parted, face heating up at his words. “I—I didn’t—”

“You didn’t know? Of course, you fucking didn’t.” He scoffed, tilting his head as he looked at you like you were pathetic. “Too fucking naive for your own good.”

His hands were on you before you could say another word. He turned you around, pressing you against the sink, your palms bracing the cold marble as he shoved your dress up, bunching it around your waist.

“Rafe—” Your voice was breathless, unsure.

His belt clinked. The sound of his zipper followed.

“You want attention so bad?” His voice was right at your ear, hot, taunting. “Fine. I’ll fucking give it to you.”

His hand came down on your ass, hard, making you yelp. Your legs trembled, but he didn’t care. His other hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your head up so you could see yourself in the mirror. Your lips were parted, eyes wide with something between shock and anticipation.

Your breath hitched as Rafe’s hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your head up so you could see yourself in the mirror. Your reflection looked almost unfamiliar—eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed from his grip and the way your dress was already bunched up around your waist.

“You really thought that guy just wanted to talk to you?” He scoffed, another slap landing on the same spot, making you jolt. “You’re so fucking naive.”

“I—I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you back just to slam you against him. You could feel how hard he was, pressing against you through his jeans, thick and heavy against your bare skin. “Didn’t know he was trying to fuck you? Didn’t realize you were standing there like a dumb little slut, giving him your full attention?”

You whimpered, feeling your body betray you. The heat between your legs grew unbearable, your thighs instinctively rubbing together. Rafe noticed. Of course, he did.

“Look at you,” he sneered. “Fucking pathetic.”

The sound of his belt clinking sent a shiver down your spine. Your breath stuttered when he unzipped his jeans, shoving them down just enough to free himself. His cock pressed against you, hot and heavy, teasing your soaked entrance.

“You wanna be used so bad?” His voice was dark, taunting. “Fine. I’ll fucking use you.”

And then, without warning, he thrust inside you.

A strangled gasp left your lips as he stretched you open, pushing in deep with no patience, no hesitation. Your body clenched around him, trying to adjust to his size, but he didn’t give you time.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips so tight it hurt. “So fucking tight. Always so fucking tight for me.”

He didn’t ease into it. He didn’t start slow.

He pounded into you hard, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force, knocking the breath from your lungs. Each thrust shoved you further into the sink, your hands slipping against the cold marble as you struggled to hold yourself up.

“You like this, huh?” His hand snaked up your stomach, sliding under your dress to grip your breast, squeezing roughly. “You like getting fucked like a dumb little whore?”

You moaned, back arching as he tugged your bra down, his fingers pinching at your nipple. His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your head spin, your moans turning into breathy whimpers.

“That’s all you’re good for, anyway,” he muttered against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Taking my cock. Letting me ruin you.”

His other hand trailed back down, fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing harsh circles against your clit. Your whole body jerked, thighs trembling as pleasure shot through you.

“Fuck—Rafe—” Your voice was weak, breathless.

“What?” He smirked, watching your reflection in the mirror. “You gonna cum already? So fucking easy.”

You were already right on the edge, your body overwhelmed by the rough pace, the filthy words, the way his hand tightened around your throat like he owned you. And he did.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, his thrusts growing deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over. “Cum so I can fill you up like the dumb little thing you are.”

Your whole body tensed before you shattered, a broken moan leaving your lips as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and that was all it took.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he buried himself inside you, spilling into you with a final, brutal thrust.

For a moment, the only sound in the bathroom was your ragged breathing, the distant thump of music from the party outside.

Then, Rafe let out a low chuckle, pressing a messy kiss against the back of your neck. “Maybe next time, you’ll fucking listen to me.”

[myrleius]

wanna try again? — kuroo t.

kuroo t. x ex fem!reader│word count: 3.3k

synopsis: Kuroo misses his ex. He tries not to, but it’s hard when they’re both stuck in the rain without an umbrella.

cw/tags: fluff, slight angst, exes to lovers, implied making out (?), they’re both kinda freaky if you squint

Kuroo sighed, sliding the door to the student council club room shut behind him, finally dropping his “charm mode”—as he liked to call it.

God, he hated club reports.

He rubbed his cheek, trying to soothe the ache from smiling too much. Flattery just never worked on that treasurer. She barely glanced at the volleyball club’s budget before handing it back, unimpressed, and telling him to revise it.

Being captain sucked sometimes. Good thing this was his last year.

“Last year…” he repeated to himself, adjusting the strap of his bag as he walked down the hall.

It was hard to believe he’d be graduating soon. It felt like just yesterday he’d started high school—changing his look, coming out of his shell, joining the volleyball club, clashing with Yaku, relying on Kai to keep the peace, meeting y—

His steps slowed, and Kuroo blinked, caught off guard.

It had been a while since his thoughts had slipped like that. His perfect strategy of staying focused—of keeping his head clear with things he should be prioritizing—easily crumbled at just one memory of her.

And once it did, he knew it’d haunt him for the rest of the day. 

It had already started.

The first he remembered? Her laugh. Honestly, it was one of the ugliest laughs he’d ever heard. It always started with an abrupt inhale—sharp, almost choked—before tumbling into a series of breathy, uneven exhales that barely qualified as laughter. She sounded like an asthmatic goose. But it was his favorite sound in the world.

Not that he could judge anyway. His own laugh wasn’t much better—something between a hyena and a villain’s cackle. Together, they probably sounded like a zoo on fire.

Next came her shoulders. If you really wanted to read her, that’s where you looked.

When she was happy, they lifted slightly, moving in time with her cute breaths and gasps, shaking when she laughed.

In a bad mood? Oh, she’d roll them back with a little too much force, like she was trying to physically push the irritation out. And when people approached her like that, she’d shut them out completely—cold shoulder and all. …God, he really shouldn’t find that pun funny.

Flustered? Another favorite. She’d hunch ever so slightly, glancing away as if that could hide the warmth creeping up her neck. Give it three seconds, and like clockwork, her shoulders would lower, and she’d peek up at him. It was predictable. Adorable. He never got tired of it.

And when she was sad? That was when his mind went quiet.

He wanted to remember the small things—the slight slump when a character in a movie she loved died, the way she’d snuggle closer, seeking warmth, comfort.

But instead, what came to mind? Their breakup.

Kuroo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Nope. Not going there.

They’d sworn—both of them—that it was the right choice. A clean break. No lingering feelings, no regrets. And for the most part, they’d stuck to that promise. A year of holding his ground, fumbling sometimes, but never looking back.

It was for the best.

“Yeah,” he breathed, as if saying it out loud might make it true.

He kept walking. One step, then another. But it was useless.

Just now, he passed by her classroom. He used to show up there uninvited, leaning against the doorframe with that lazy grin of his, inviting her to lunch. Now? He just caught glimpses of her there when he could.

Then came the stairs to the second floor. He used to walk beside her there, carrying whatever ridiculous load the teachers had thrown her way. Their shoulders would brush as she huffed about it, pretending to be annoyed—even though she always volunteered anyway. Now, they just passed each other, and all he got was a small nod and a simple ‘hi’.

His feet carried him down to the first floor, past a storage closet. It wasn’t that one, but it still made him remember. Fifth floor. Dusty, broken lights, completely abandoned. Perfect. He could still hear her breathy laughter as he tugged her inside, their feet tangling together in the cramped space, both of them tripping over their own excitement. She’d clutch his arm, gasping between wheezes as he backed her against the wall, one hand blindly sliding the door shut behind him, the other sneaking up under her blous—

Yeah. No way he was getting rid of that memory anytime soon.

Kuroo exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his messy hair.

No matter where he looked, this school was littered with her. With them. Every corner held something. The specific seat in the library where she’d wait for him, absently flipping through a book she’d never finish. The gym’s side entrance where she’d sneaked peeks at his practice, bouncing on the balls of her feet like she had a secret to tell. The vending machine where she once lost her mind because it stole her coins three days in a row.

Lost in the echoes of the past, he rounded the corner, reaching the entrance, not even bothering to shake off the heaviness settling in his chest. And then, as if this day couldn’t get any worse—

The sound of rain. And he didn’t have an umbrella.

Fantastic.

He sighed, opening his shoe locker and switching his shoes. Really, what was up with today? It was like the universe had personally decided to screw him over, throwing her into his head more than usual.

Stepping around the lockers, he was fully prepared to soak himself in the rain in pure, dramatic fashion—like a heartbroken heroine straight out of those dramas she loved—until his feet suddenly halted.

She was there.

Standing just outside, staring up at the sky with her lips pressed together in frustration. Her brows were furrowed, her shoulders pulled taut—bad mood. Yet, there was something about the way she stood, the way the light caught her profile, that made his chest tighten.

His throat went dry.

“Yn?”

The word slipped out before he could stop it, soft and uncertain. For a moment, he wondered if he was hallucinating—if his mind had conjured her up just to torment him further.

She turned at the sound of his voice, her movements slow, almost hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Her eyes blinked once, twice, before locking onto his. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause—the rain falling in slow motion, the sound of it hitting the ground fading into a distant hum.

“Kuroo?” Her voice was soft, barely audible over the rain, but it hit him like a punch to the chest.

Nope. This was real.

As if on instinct, the weight in his chest lightened at the sight of her—even though she was the reason it was there in the first place. She always had that effect on him.

“You’re still here?” His voice came out too casual, too smooth, like he hadn’t just spent the past ten minutes thinking about her. “Didn’t your club end three hours ago?”

Shit. He still remembered her schedule by heart.

Yn didn’t seem to mind. She huffed, fully turning to face him. “It did, but us third-years stayed behind. The student council’s rearranging club rooms again since it’s the start of the year.”

“Oh.” Kuroo shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to seem nonchalant. “Did you finish? Where’s Mi-chan and Rin-chan?” 

He still knew her friends. Kept in touch with them sometimes, though he’d never admit it was mostly to ask for updates on her.

“No.” She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “They left earlier. I stayed behind to sort some files. It’s going to be a pain to move everything, though. The new club room’s on the second floor in the back building.”

Kuroo perked up at that, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Want some help?” He grinned, slipping into that easy charm, like muscle memory. “Big muscles, great strength. I’d be useful. Plus, I’d provide some eye candy.” He winked, the gesture playful but his chest tightening as he waited for her response.

Yn chuckled, and just like that—Kuroo melted. He hated how easily she still got to him. How stupidly happy it made him that he could still make her smile.

“Tempting,” she said, playing along, “but no thanks. I think we’ll be fine. Plus, I know you have your hands full with your own club, captain.”

And his heart sank.

Right. He should’ve expected that. They were still friends—technically. Their breakup hadn’t been messy. No big betrayals, no dramatic fights. Just two people realizing they weren’t working. They had agreed they were better off this way.

And yet, there was always something there. A line neither of them crossed, but one they constantly tiptoed around. They never hung out alone. Never touched. Always at arm’s length, like some invisible barrier kept them in check. So, Kuroo had done what any rational person would do—he avoided her. At least, he tried to. When she talked to him, he talked back. But he never went first. It was easier that way. Yn seemed to think so too. She busied herself with other things—her club, her friends, her life.

And Kuroo told himself that was fine.

“Well, your loss.” He shrugged, pretending none of this affected him. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Yn smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks, Kuroo.”

Then, silence. The kind that felt too heavy, too expectant. Yn turned back to the rain, her posture shifting, shoulders rising and falling with a quiet breath.

Kuroo should’ve left it at that. But something in him refused to let go.

“So… you didn’t bring an umbrella?”

Yn exhaled sharply, amused. “Kuroo, I literally wouldn’t be standing here if I had one.”

Fair point. But he wasn’t really asking about the umbrella.

Truthfully, he wasn’t even sure what he was asking.

Kuroo wasn’t the type to believe in fate or signs or any of that cheesy crap. But standing there, watching her—deep in nostalgia, just close enough to touch yet still out of reach—he couldn’t help but wonder. What were the chances? That on a day like this, they’d both end up here, caught in the rain together. 

Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe it was just his own stubbornness, clinging to something that had already slipped away. But still… a small, reckless part of him started to hope.

No. He shouldn’t let himself go there. He knew better.

And yet he took a step forward, testing the space between them. No reaction. Another step. Still nothing. 

So he went for it. Closed the gap just enough to stand beside her, keeping a respectable distance. That got a reaction.

Yn glanced at him, brow raised.

“What?” Kuroo asked, feigning innocence.

She opened her mouth, then hesitated, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

Liar. But he let it slide. This was the closest he had been to her in a long time, and he wasn’t about to ruin it.

His eyes flickered to her, and for the first time in a long time, he really saw her. Not in passing, not from a careful distance, but up close.

She had grown. Taller now, past his shoulder but not quite at his chin. Her perfume was different—no longer the floral scent he remembered, but something citrusy, fresh. There was the faintest touch of makeup on her face, light and effortless. And her hair…

His gaze lingered there longer than it should have. She had cut it short after they broke up—he’d teased her about it, calling it the classic breakup change. She’d rolled her eyes and shot back that it wasn’t for him, just her way of making sure she didn’t fit his type anymore. And yet, here she was, with those familiar strands grown out again, brushing just past her nape, swaying slightly when she moved.

That’s when it settled in—how much had changed, yet how much still felt the same.

Still shifting her weight from foot to foot. Still puffing out her cheeks slightly before exhaling. Still struggling with that damn bag strap that never wanted to stay on her shoulder.

His fingers twitched. The urge to reach out, to fix it for her, to feel the warmth of her skin just for a second—

“You’re staring,” yn murmured.

His breath hitched.

Busted.

“Yeah, the rain’s kinda nice to look at,” he lied, horribly.

Yn rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips never faded. “Mhm. Rain.”

Silence settled again, thick and suffocating. Kuroo was starting to regret this. Maybe he should’ve left it alone. Their relationship now—it wasn’t great, but it was safe.

His mind drifted to the way they fell apart. And, honestly? He couldn’t even remember why. Just the stupid, petty fights. The unresolved tension. The missed calls. The piling resentment over things that never really mattered.

But he did remember the how.

She had waited for him that day. The first time in a while. The argument from days before still lingered between them, unspoken but felt. And then—

“Let’s break up.”

Blunt. Quick. So her.

And Kuroo hated that back then, the first thing he felt was relief.

They hadn’t pretended. Just sat on the swings at a nearby park, talking about how maybe it was for the best. That they could still be friends. That it was mutual. Acting so damn mature about it. Everyone else was shocked, but they played it off like it was the natural outcome.

But now? Now, Kuroo regretted it.

He always had.

He never tried dating anyone else after her. Buried himself in volleyball, in school, in anything that kept his mind too busy for regrets. But the what-ifs still found him in the quiet moments. 

His heart pounded, the words pressing against his throat, demanding to be spoken. This was his chance, maybe his only chance, to say what he'd been too much of a coward to admit back then.

“Hey,” he started, voice cracking slightly. Smooth. Real smooth.

“No,” yn cut in immediately, not even looking at him.

Kuroo blinked. “I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“You didn’t need to.”

She turned then, lips twitching like she was fighting a smile. “I know that look. You’re about to say something dumb.”

“Wow.” Kuroo clutched his chest dramatically, momentarily forgetting his objective as he slipped into their familiar rhythm. “You wound me. And here I was, about to say something profound. Life-changing, even.”

“Uh-huh.” Yn crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Let me guess. Something along the lines of, ‘Would it have been different if we tried?’”

Kuroo froze. Mouth slightly open. “... You watch too many movies,” he attempted, aiming for nonchalance. But at yn’s pointed look, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, yes… kinda.”

Yn laughed, light and familiar, and something in Kuroo’s chest tightened.

“You’re so predictable,” she teased. Her smile softened then, the teasing fading into something quieter. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, you know,” she said. “Back then.”

Kuroo’s grin faltered for half a second before he masked it with a shrug. “Yeah. We were a disaster waiting to happen.” He hesitated, then added, “But, uh… what about now? Still a disaster, or…?”

Yn tilted her head, pretending to think. “Hmm. I don’t know. Are you still terrible at sharing blankets?”

“Hey, that was one time—”

“And popcorn?”

“Okay, I stand by that. You don’t need to drown it in butter.”

“And do you still find the most ridiculous excuses to put your arm around me?”

Kuroo gasped, a hand dramatically flying to his chest. “Hey! Those are perfectly executed. And you used to find it endearing.”

“Used to.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Key words.”

Kuroo groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” she said, stepping just a little closer, “still trying.”

This time, they both laughed—light, breathless. It wasn’t just the sound of amusement, but something softer, something that stretched between them like an old melody. A reminder of what once was, and maybe, what could be again.

The tension unraveled, unspooling thread by thread, replaced by something warmer. Familiar.

Kuroo looked at her, realizing their dynamic had never really changed. He still teased with that effortless blend of exasperation and affection. She still met his antics with an eye roll but never actually pushed him away. And they still leaned into each other’s warmth without thinking—drawn in by something they could only feel.

Yn tilted her head, studying him in return, like she, too, was seeing something familiar. 

Maybe they weren’t the same people they had been back then. Maybe time had carved its lines between them, made them sharper, wiser, a little more careful.

Then, the laughter faded, and yn looked away, off to the side. Kuroo felt the shift immediately, a flicker of uncertainty in her posture. He almost worried the moment had slipped away—until he saw it. The way her shoulders curled in just slightly.

And his heart started counting.

One. Two…

Her shoulders dropped. A breath. Then, her gaze flicked back to him, hesitant yet hopeful. A faint blush dusted her cheeks.

“Wanna try again?”

The world stilled. The rain, the distant hum of traffic, the pounding of his own heartbeat—everything blurred into the background.

A second passed. Then he moved.

His hand found her shoulder, turning her to face him. Then he pushed, just enough to back her against the wall. She gasped softly, but he wasn’t rough, nor gentle. Just desperate. Eager.

"Fuck yes," he whispered, and then he didn’t wait another second.

His lips crashed onto hers, stealing the breath straight from her lungs. God, he missed this. His hands found her jaw, tilting her head as he kissed her deeper. She was still so soft, still tasted so good. His lungs burned, but he didn’t care. He forced himself to breathe through his nose, just to keep this kiss going another moment longer.

Yn, however, wasn’t quite as stubborn.

She let out a muffled noise and patted at his hand in protest.

Kuroo groaned but relented, pulling away just enough to see the thin, invisible thread of saliva still connecting them. The sight alone sent heat curling in his stomach.

"S-Sorry," he murmured, breathless. "I missed you."

"Yeah," yn wheezed, coughing. "I could tell."

Kuroo barked out a laugh, feeling light, genuinely happy for the first time in what felt like forever. With a smirk, he patted her back, this time softer, a quiet apology.

Yn sighed as she leaned into him, her breath warm against his collarbone. Just enough for Kuroo to feel it—to feel her. She fit against him like she always had, like no time had passed at all. And for that moment, everything just felt right.

He wanted to say it then. The words sat on the tip of his tongue, unspoken for too long.

"I lov—"

"Closet?"

They both froze.

Then, simultaneously, they burst into laughter.

They tried again.

"Fifth floor?"

"Love you."

Wrong again. And yet, they laughed all the same.

Kuroo shook his head, grinning as he wiped a hand down his face. "And you used to call me the horny one."

"Hey! With the way you just kissed me, what was I supposed to think?" she shot back, cheeks burning.

Kuroo’s grin widened, eyes dark with amusement. "We just got back together, and you already can't get enough of me."

Yn’s face went flat, unimpressed. She turned on her heel without another word and strode further inside.

"Let’s break up again."

Kuroo’s smirk vanished.

"What? Hey, come on! I was joking!" he yelped, scrambling after her.

But then she turned right and Kuroo’s breath hitched. That’s where the stairs were. The fifth floor.

A slow grin crept onto his face as he followed after her, his heart thundering in his chest.

Maybe this was their way of saying it. Maybe this was just how they worked—words unspoken, feelings tangled in teasing and laughter. But Kuroo understood. He always had.

And this time, he wouldn’t let her go.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

i’m obsessed with your declan fics! can we get one where the reader has to calm him down? it would be even more fun if they were mad/annoyed at each other but he can’t help but seek her out when he needs comfort 👀

Paradoxical.

you currently can’t stand the sight of each other. and yet, in this moment… yours is the only face he wants to see.

declan o’hara x female reader (nickname - lucky.)

warnings - smut. cursing. angst. unspecified age gap. yeeeeeearning.

word count - 4.6k

authors note - she’s back 💋. loooved this request, so thank you so much to whoever sent it!! i’m still on my rivals shit, so please join me in this never ending journey. never getting over this man <3

masterlist. inbox.

“How are you doing?”

You snuggle further into the pillows on the bed, popping another strawberry in your mouth to avoid the question.

“Lucky.”

“Hmm?”

“I asked how you are.”

“M’fine,” you answer as you chew, praying the subject gets changed. She clearly doesn’t believe you, so you sigh and look at her pointedly. “I’m being serious. I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Taggie.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? No! I’d never think that.”

“Then why are you treating me like I’m oblivious? I can see that you’re not fine, but you keep lying to my face.”

Taking a deep breath, you exhale in resignation.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re caught in the middle of all of this, Tag.”

“I’m not-”

“You are. He’s your dad, I’m your friend. You are quite literally the middle man here.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” she counters, perching on the edge of her bed. “If I have to be the peacekeeper, I will be.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

“I know, but these things happen. I just… if I knew what had happened, I could try and fix it.”

“You can’t fix this, Tag. I promise you, you can’t.”

She’s quiet for a moment, tracing the patterns on your socks as she thinks.

“What happened, Lucky? I swear that whatever it is, I won’t judge you. I just want to know how it all went so… wrong. One minute the two of you were the best of friends, and the next minute you’re packing up your office and leaving without so much as an explanation.”

“It’s complicated,” you murmur.

“So complicated that you had to quit your job?”

“Yes.”

“He’s never going to find a better assistant than you, you know. Never. He doesn’t even want to look for one, says he’d rather do all the work himself.”

“Well that’s stupid of him. He can’t do all that stuff himself.”

“Exactly. He’s willing to put himself through all of that stress so as not to replace you.”

“That’s his foolish choice, Tag.”

She sighs in frustration, leaning back against the footboard of the bed.

“Did he upset you? Did he say something stupid? You know what he’s like, he often doesn’t think before he speaks. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation here.”

“It wasn’t him, it was me. I quit by my own volition. He didn’t upset me, he didn’t offend me… I just had to do the right thing, which was to leave. I know you’re trying to help, Tag, but you can’t. Not with this.”

Taggie finally realises that she’s fighting a losing battle, choosing instead to shuffle over so she’s all cosy in the pillows next to you.

“I won’t tell him you were here,” she whispers, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“Thank you. I’m sorry you’re caught up in the middle of all of this.”

“I don’t mind, honestly. I just wish there was something I could do.”

“Give it some time. It’s meant to heal all wounds, after all.”

She chuckles, resting her head against yours affectionately.

“Will you help me make some raspberry tarts? I need at least forty of them, and I could do with an extra pair of hands.”

“Of course I will. But if your dad comes home, I’m sprinting out the back door.”

“Alright,” she laughs, shaking her head. “I’ll help with your escape, if need be.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re tempted to smash your head into the bar top.

You’ve been debating the pros and cons of it for the last forty five minutes, actually.

The gala is bustling, bodies packed into the beautiful ballroom with barely an inch between them. Everyone has a drink in hand, the light from the chandelier glinting off of the champagne and whiskey poured into crystal glasses.

You’d said yes to the event when you were still Declan’s assistant - assuming that you’d go together, just like always. And now, here you are, standing on opposite ends of the room and avoiding each other like your lives depend on it.

A cool hand finds your waist, spiced aftershave hitting your senses and letting you know who it is before they even have to speak.

“Hello, darling.”

“Hi, Rupert.”

He spins you around gracefully, smiling at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“You look ravishing, as always.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself, you know. You scrub up quite nicely.”

“Oh stop, I’ll start blushing.”

You can’t help but laugh, accepting his arm as he offers it out to you.

“Come on darling, let’s socialise a bit. You can’t stand in the corner forever.”

“I can.”

“Not on my watch.”

He’s dragging you across the floor before you can process what’s happening, people passing by you in blurs of colour and sparkles.

“Dance with me.”

“Is this fun for you? Torturing me?”

“Oh, immensely,” he grins, hands finding your hips.

You reluctantly wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him with a quirked brow.

“Don’t you have a thousand other women you could be dancing with, Rupert?”

He spins you playfully, laughing as you shriek.

“I do, but none of them are nearly as beautiful as you.”

“Oh god,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Does that line usually work?”

“Never on women as smart as you,” he chuckles, swaying you gently.

You stare at him carefully for a moment, realising you know him too well when you instantly see through his carefree facade.

“Ask it, then.”

“Hmm?”

“I know that’s what this is. You’re going to get me all soft and relaxed and tipsy, and then you’ll ask me about Declan. You might as well just cut to the chase, Rupert.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re much too intelligent to think that I believe that.”

His eyes don’t leave yours as he tilts his head, getting a good look at you and your unwavering expression.

“Fine, you stubborn woman. Fine. I wanted to ask you about Declan at some point tonight. But only from a place of care and concern, not because I’m going to try to wrangle the two of you back together or anything.”

“Subtlety has never been your strong suit.”

“Forgive me for being confused, alright? You were joined at the hip, and all of a sudden you can’t stand the sight of each other. It’s just so unlike the two of you.”

You sigh deeply, dropping your head forward so it rests on his chest. Rupert’s arms tighten around you, silently letting you know he’s got your back.

“It’s complicated,” you explain, muffled by the material of the man’s shirt. “Stupidly complicated.”

“So complicated that it can never, ever be repaired? I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Blimey,” he half gasps, the sound vibrating through the both of you. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day, you bastard.”

Rupert laughs so loudly that people turn their heads to see why, the cadence of it completely infectious. Declan watches from across the room, unable to help himself from at least glancing at the two of you together so cosily.

“He’s currently watching you like some sort of bird of prey,” he informs, tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. “Whatever it was that happened, it hasn’t erased the fact that he cares about you. A lot. And I know for a fact you care about him.”

“Of course I do.”

“There we go then. Surely it’s nothing that can’t be solved with a bit of good old fashioned communication.”

“You’re a terrible communicator,” you argue.

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head as you both sway to the music once again.

“If I had a pound for every time that applied to you, Rupert, I’d be a fucking millionaire.”

He twirls you outwards quickly, watching as the skirt of your dress billows with the breeze of the action.

“And if I had a pound for every time Declan has pretended to stare interestedly around the room this evening just so he has an excuse to look at you, I’d be a millionaire too.”

You ignore the way your heartbeat picks up at his words, choosing instead to focus on the steady rhythm of the music from the piano that fills the space.

“Maybe he’s looking at you.”

“No, Lucky. He’s always looking at you.”

You sigh in resignation, fingers fiddling with Rupert’s collar as you straighten out his tie.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to respond to that.”

“You’re practically his right arm. This separation, whatever its cause, is doing both of you more harm than good. I don’t want to push you darling, because that isn’t fair - but just think about everything I’ve said, alright?”

He stares at you expectantly, brows raised in questioning.

“Alright.”

The grin on his face is almost blinding, beaming out in all directions.

“Now, you look too beautiful to stand on the fringes. I will dance with you all night if I have to, if it means showing off this stunning dress of yours.”

“So charming,” you smile, shaking your head. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse, isn’t it?”

“You’d be stupid to,” he winks, still grinning like the devil.

You let him lead you further into the middle of the dance floor, chuckling as he spins you as you go. Your hand has just slipped into Rupert’s once more when you’re both startled by a crash coming from the other side of the room.

The two of you whip your heads around towards the source of the commotion, to see two men in undoubtedly expensive suits brawling with each other. One of them is throwing punches while the other can do nothing but take them, merciless at his opponents hands. Some people are shouting and screaming, trying to physically separate them, while others turn a complete blind eye to the ruckus.

“Fuck,” Rupert mutters, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the scene.

You’re about to ask what the hell he’s doing when you’re pushed forwards and given a clearer view of what’s in front of you, understanding Rupert’s panic immediately.

Ginger is on the floor. Declan is standing above him with bloody knuckles.

“Fuck,” you repeat.

You want to run in the other direction, desperate to not be involved with the drama. And then you look at Declan - the way he’s falling apart at the seams, nerves ruined and adrenaline rushing through his veins, clearly on the edge of something awful… and all of a sudden you’re walking towards the brawl, logic be damned.

There’s so much noise surrounding you that you can’t hear yourself think. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and your heart pounding against your ribcage in your sudden determination to get to the Irishman.

You’re yelling his name without even realising you’re doing it, shouting at the top of your lungs to fight over the commotion.

“Declan! Oh for fuck sake… Declan!”

Your voice somehow breaks through the noise like a sirens call, the familiar melody of it finding his ears like his favourite song. His eyes finally meet yours, and the rest of the room melts away.

You have a conversation without saying anything, so many words exchanged in such a short amount of time. The two of you have always been good at this - communicating in your own language, silently and easily.

You grab his injured hand and intertwine your fingers with his, pulling him away from the scene of the crime with determination. You cast a look back to Ginger, who remains on the floor with blood dripping from his nose, before dragging Declan through the crowd and towards the front door of the huge Manor House. You can hear Rupert trying to mitigate the situation as you leave, using his charm as he does best.

You make your way outside, yanking the man behind you in your path without so much of a glance backwards. You trudge through the gardens in your heels, ignoring the way the dewy grass brushes across the tops of your feet occasionally. Finally, after walking for what feels like hours but was actually mere minutes, you come across a bench, sheltered by an old stone wall and neatly trimmed hedges.

You shove him to sit down, still refusing to look him in the eye. Neither of you say anything, the evening breeze and two sets of lungs heaving all that can be heard.

“What happened?” you whisper eventually, reluctant to disturb the peace. “Who started it?”

Declan looks surprised that you’re speaking to him, failing to hide the shock on his face.

“Will ya sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

“You’re not the boss of me anymore, remember?” you half joke, sitting down anyway.

“Funny,” he says, completely deadpan. He looks at you carefully for a long moment, before continuing. “It was Ginger, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with him otherwise.”

“What did he say?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Matters to me.”

“Well it shouldn’t.”

“Right.”

You stare at your shoes, wondering why you even bothered to rescue him back in the ballroom.

“Fuck this, then,” you mutter as you stand up to leave.

A hand wraps around your wrist as quick as a flash, pulling you back to sit down where you were.

“No. You don’t get to just walk away from me, not again.”

“Tell me what Ginger said.”

“Tell me why you quit workin’ for me.”

“I already did.”

“Liar. You gave me a poor excuse that’s absolute bollocks. I don’t believe it for a second.”

“That’s your problem, then.”

“Yes, it is.”

You stare at him, completely exasperated by the events of the last hour.

“You can’t just punch people at galas, Declan. It’s a bad look for you, for Venturer, and for every member of staff that relies on you.”

“I know.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

He scrubs his hand over his face, clearly frustrated with both you and the situation at hand.

“He made some horrible comment about you. I fell right into his trap too, like a bull and a fuckin’ red scarf.”

“What did he say?”

He hesitates for a moment.

“Just… something crude about you sleepin’ with me to get to where you are. Called me a cradle snatcher, too.”

“You can’t be a cradle snatcher if I’m a grown woman.”

“Exactly. And it’s not true, anyway. We all know that.”

“So why did you hit him, then? If we all know it’s not true?”

Declan sighs, fatigue painting the sound.

“Because no one gets to speak about you like that with no consequence. And because I was angry.”

“At me.”

“At you. Yes.”

You fiddle with your fingers, entirely unprepared for the fact that you’re about to have the one conversation you’ve been completely avoiding.

“I never meant for any of this to happen,” you begin. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this.”

“Then what did you mean to happen, Lucky? Did you think that you could just up and quit with absolutely no warning, without a problem? That I’d just let you walk out? Did ya think I’d help you pack your things?”

“Obviously not,” you whisper. “I’m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not. Which is why I know that you thought about that decision long and hard. And that’s what I can’t seem to wrap my head around.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

He looks at you with pleading eyes, clearly desperate to resolve the issues between you.

“Please, Lucky.”

His voice is cracking just like his heart, breaking down the middle to allow all of his emotions to spill out onto the grass. You’ve never heard him sound like this. You hate it.

“I had to, Declan. For both of our sakes.”

“For fuck sake, can you cut it out?” he snaps, volume raising.

“Cut what out?”

“Speaking in these fucking riddles! I can’t even pretend that I have any idea what you’re talkin’ about. Please, whatever it is, however terrible you think it is… I just need you to say it. We’ll deal with the consequences. But I can’t keep goin’ around in circles, dancing around the subject constantly.”

You take a deep breath, bottom lip wobbling as you will yourself not to cry. You’re well and truly at the end of your tether, unsure of how much more you can take - or how much you want to. Deciding to throw caution into the wind, you exhale carefully before turning to face the man next to you.

“You’ll hate me. When I tell you.”

“I could never hate you. Never, Lucky.”

You get lost in your own head for a moment, staring off into space as you debate the best way to go about this. A large hand finds its way into your knee, comforting and grounding. His thumb rubs patterns into your skin where the slit of your dress is, warming you up from the outside in.

“I thought about it for a long time,” you begin. “A long time. Because being your assistant is the best job I have ever had, or will ever have. It was a dream, Declan. Even when we had a tough day, or week, or month, I always knew we’d be okay.”

He nods, his full attention on you.

“We were comfortable, me and you. Maybe a little too comfortable for a boss and his assistant, but in a good way, I think. I was settled, with you.”

He squeezes your thigh, urging you to continue.

“But then, I think we got too settled. People started to notice - which doesn’t matter, but they did nonetheless. I was sleeping over at your house, staying awake with you until the early hours, attending galas and events as your date. And I wasn’t sure what it was - the thing that was bothering me - until one day, it clicked.”

“Lucky…” he whispers, desperate for you to spit it out.

“I’m in love with you.”

The two of you sit the silence for a moment, listening to the breeze softly whip around you.

“That’s what clicked. And that’s why I quit. Because it felt like a conflict of interest, like a… betrayal.”

“A betrayal?”

“Yes. Like I was taking advantage, or something. And I didn’t think it was fair, for you, having me pining over you at work. I didn’t want you to feel pity for me, if you noticed eventually - I hated the idea of being treated differently by you, all through fault of my own. So I quit to get ahead of it.”

“Are ya done?”

“I, uh… yes?”

“Great.”

Declan surges forward, smashing his lips to yours with the most passion than you’ve ever experienced in your life. One of his hands tangles in your hair as the other cradles your face, pulling you as close as he physically can. His tongue slips into your mouth cheekily, allowing you to taste whiskey, cigarettes and the cool night air. Eventually, when you both need to breathe, he pulls away reluctantly, resting his forehead on yours.

“Did you do that to make me shut up?” you murmur, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“Yes and no.”

He’s grinning like the devil, chuckling as the palms of his hands find your cheeks.

“Yes and no?”

“Yes and no. I took the action needed to stop you rambling. But I’ve been thinking about doing that for a long time.”

“… What?”

“Why do you think we got so comfortable, Lucky? It works two ways. You were just the only one brave enough to make a change - even if it was the completely wrong thing to do.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

“The opposite,” he laughs. “I can’t remember when it happened. I woke up one day and I just knew. And I knew that you’d never feel the same way, but I love being around you so much that I was willing to make that sacrifice. So I was a coward, and I stayed silent.”

“We’ve made this complicated. Too complicated.”

“Much too complicated.”

“But… it is. You were my boss, and you’re older than me, and I’m good friends with Taggie now, and-”

Declan kisses you again, sweeter this time.

“We can figure it out, Lucky. You know we can.”

“Maybe,” you whisper.

“And I want you to come back to work.”

“Declan-”

“I’m serious. I cannot cope without you. I will never find an assistant as good as you, and quite frankly, I don’t want to. I want you. No one else.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a conflict of interest, like I said earlier.”

“But it isn’t. Not anymore. Before all of this, we were two people in love working together. And when you come back, we’ll be two people in love working together.”

You can’t find it in you to argue, realising that he’s actually making a good point. If anything, it should be easier now that you’ve both communicated your feelings - no more skeletons in the closet.

“Tell me you don’t miss it,” he provokes. “Tell me you’re not even remotely tempted to come back.”

“I can’t.”

“Exactly.”

You take a deep breath, moving the hair away from his eyes tenderly.

“I’ll think about it, alright? I’ll have a think when I go home.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

He smiles like the cat that’s got the cream, entirely too satisfied with the outcome of this conversation.

“I know we’re in uncharted territory here, Lucky. But we can figure it out. You know we can.”

“I know. It’ll be hard, but… I know.”

You lean up to kiss him softly, sighing as your eyes drift closed. He winds a hand around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pulls you closer, trying to plaster every inch of his body to yours.

You lose yourself in everything Declan - the way he tastes, the way he smells, the way he feels underneath your fingertips. You want to strip him bare right here and memorise every curve of his muscles, every line in his skin, every mark on his face.

His hand slips further and further up the slit of your dress, gripping at your thigh as if he’s worried you’ll slip away. You’re half in his lap, draped over him on the bench as he still pulls you impossibly closer.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he whispers against your throat. “Every. Single. Night.”

He kisses his way along your neck, revelling in the way you squirm at the feeling of his moustache on your skin. You grab fistfuls of his white shirt, crumpling it in your hands to try and give yourself some sort of anchor.

When Declan’s fingertips slip into your underwear, all you can do is sigh, resigned to the fact that you’d let him do absolutely anything he wanted in this current moment.

“We’re in public,” you protest weakly, both of you knowing you don’t want him to stop.

“We’re at the bottom of the garden, surrounded by three hedges and a wall. If anyone sees, that’s their fault.”

You drop your head forward onto his shoulder, parting your legs to give him a better angle. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels just how aroused you are, practically vibrating with want.

“Are ya this wet f’me?”

You nod against his shirt, not trusting your voice.

“Oh, sweetheart. Well I can’t leave you like this, can I? That’d be cruel.”

He pulls your underwear to the side fully so he can slip a finger into you with ease, both of you groaning at the sensation. Sliding a second one in, you hold onto him for dear life, panting like you’ve run a marathon.

“Please,” you whisper. “Declan, please.”

“I’ll do anything to hear you say my name like that again, Lucky. Anything in the world.”

“Declan.”

He sets a steady pace, crooking his fingers as he goes to make sure you see stars. Your eyes are rolling back, lip caught between your teeth to stifle any sounds that threaten to escape.

“God, I wish I could hear how pretty you sound,” he groans, looking at you intently. “You can make as much noise as you want when I take you home. Promise.”

You whimper softly, bucking your hips up to meet his rhythm. The bench is cold underneath you, the air turning chilly, but neither of you pay any mind to it. You’re too far gone to care.

You grab Declan’s other hand and stick two of his fingers in your mouth, laving your tongue around them to keep you quiet. He moans at the sight, all deep and rumbled, the sound reverberating through both of you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

All you can do is look at him with big, bright eyes, pleading with him silently to finish the job at hand.

“You want me to make you come, sweetheart? That it?”

When you nod, he picks up the pace of his fingers, thumb pressing circles into your clit.

“Have ya thought about this? In bed, alone, getting yourself off in the dark?”

You whine at his words, nodding your head in answer.

“That’s a good girl. Come for me, sweetheart. Come for me and I’ll take you home and fuck you properly, yeah?”

You see stars as you climax, gripping onto his shirt and his hand for dear life. He works you through it, murmuring filthy promises into your ear as he does it.

Lifting his fingers from between your thighs, he pops them straight into his mouth, both of you groaning in unison.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs against your lips, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Perfect girl.”

You shuffle sideways so you’re pressed into Declan’s side, two strong arms encircling you immediately.

“Thank you.”

“For the orgasm?”

“Yes and no,” you laugh. “For listening to me. I’ve been going insane trying to think about what I’d say to you if I got the chance to explain myself, but no words seemed to suffice.”

“I just wish you’d talked to me sooner, sweetheart. I’ve been going insane trying to get through life without you. Not to mention that office is chaos.”

You laugh gently, cuddling into him and his warmth.

“I’ll fix it on Monday.”

“Yeah? For definite?” he asks, hope colouring his voice.

“Yeah. Like I said - best job I’ve ever had.”

“You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, sweetheart.”

You grin as you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, all soft and sugary sweet.

“Besides. Someone’s going to have to sort out the inevitable mess that’ll follow you hitting Ginger at a charity gala.”

“Ah, I forgot about that,” he laughs, planting a kiss into your hair. “What would I do without ya, hmm?”

“You’ll never have to find out,” you smile, resting your head onto his shoulder. “Never again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You sit on the bench for a little while longer, both of you looking up at the stars that paint the sky in a canopy above your heads. You’re quite convinced you could stay like this forever, just the two of you in your own little universe.

There’s paperwork to be done, meetings to be had, deals to be made. But all of that can wait.

Right now, it’s just you and Declan.

The way it should be.

reblogs are gold dust, lovers!! reblog and circulate your favourite fics, and your writers will create more. simple. <3

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 2

Hii! Here is the second chapter. I will post the chapters when the next one is either 50% or 90-100% ready, based on how long it has been. Hope you enjoy!

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Breakfast became awkward as soon as you shyly walked in, hunger beating the desire to stay hidden in your room- in hindsight, maybe you should have. They were chatting so eagerly, laughing. You wanted that too but as soon as you peeked through the door the noise stopped. It was like the first day of kindergarten. Lonely, your palms were sweating with anxiety, and- and you missed your mom.

You tried introducing yourself to Richard, but you were met with a hum and one singular glance, no interest from the older boy, your supposed brother. Bruce- you’d rather him not look at you at all. It was like he was trying to read your mind and dissect it.

By the time you had it in you to speak again, to try and create some bonds, it seemed like they couldn’t get away fast enough. They both looked so tired. You’d think they would have taken their time. Your eyes meet Alfred’s icy blues once the room is empty.

“Do they hate me?... Did I do something wrong?” Alfred’s whole body flinched at the question, unseen by the untrained eye. The old man felt pity, a bit of guilt for the way he, himself, acted. But the mask of indifference he’s been trained for years to keep took its place once more.

With a gentle hand, he did his best to soothe her worries. Bruce could never hate a kid, Alfred was sure… He hoped he was. Alfred shook his head- no, he shouldn’t doubt his child- Master Bruce. He shouldn’t doubt Master Bruce like that. He knows better. The old man cleared his throat. “Here, young miss. Master Bruce wanted you to have this. Just like Master Dick has.” His explanation of what and how to use the little black card and the modern phone came just as quickly as his try at making connections between the two kids.

“Giving a kid unsupervised access to so much money and the internet sounds like a bad idea.” Your mumbling made Alfred’s lip twitch. It was and he said as much, but it was what Master Bruce wanted, and what he wanted he got… usually.

And with that, Alfred left too. You understood why he left; he seemed to be the only employee. Taking care of such a big house all on your own must take all day, and to have to cook as well… Poor man, Bruce mustn’t like him very much either. He was old, ancient to your five-year-old self, maybe you could help with something.

After finishing your meal, you take the dishes and carefully put them in the sink. You wanted to wash them but sadly, the counter was taller than you. Instead, you focused on cleaning the table and pushing the chairs back into their place.

Bruce must have gone to work, and Richard to school. Your brows furrowed and your lips stuck out in a pout. You were supposed to go to kindergarten. Neither of the adults seemed worried about that, and you didn’t know how to get there either, so it must be a deliberate choice. Maybe it was closed. Or maybe they forgot.

Your feet carried you across the manor, from the withered garden to the many floors of the cold house, relying on the whispers from the shadows to know what door you can open, and which way you should go. They were leading you in a specific direction, you knew, but what else could you do but listen? Not like you had anything else to do or anywhere to be.

You stopped as soon as the shadows stopped whispering. The overlapping murmuring going silent made the room feel colder, and yet your amazement at the object before your eyes filled you with the warmth and hope you needed to survive another day. It was a simple thing, a painting.

A couple, a woman sitting on a chair and a man standing tall beside her. The position on any other would seem imposing, controlling even, but the hand on her shoulder wasn’t gripping her. It was a tender caress of care that reflected in the man’s face as a gentle smile and his eyes fixated on the woman, his wife. The painter did a great job of portraying the love and softness the man held for his beloved, as they did for the warmth in her smile and mischievously happy gleam in her eyes.

She was beautiful, full of life. Her dress was silky white. Must have been painted on the day of their wedding. She was the perfect picture of elegance as beautiful, shining pearls adorned her neck and the bottom of her dress, and yet… Her eyes seemed as sad as they were happy. She probably missed her mami too. You couldn’t imagine marrying someone and leaving your mom, but then again, you’re young and idealistic, dreaming of things that cannot be anymore.

You sat there for what felt like hours, taking in every little detail you could. You wanted to do this, to paint, to draw, to have your art hung for generations to see. Maybe you could fix the garden as well. Make it a beautiful background for your art, and a little something to make you feel useful. Now… how do you get back to your room?

The shadows seemed to giggle at how your demeanor soured once you realized how lost you actually were. Nevertheless, once they had their fun, they led you back to where you needed to be, gently nudging your tired little self back into the walls of your room. All that walking exhausted you so much, a nap was long overdue- you were sure they’d wake you up for lunch or dinner.

They never did. You woke up at one in the morning, more tired than when you went to sleep, and ten times hungrier and colder. Maybe they didn’t have dinner? The trash in the bin and half-chopped veggies in the fridge told a different story. It seems you’ll have to fend for yourself once more.

Tag List: @bat1212

[bitchesuntitled]

Wrong Delivery

Summary: Sleepin' with the hot construction guy doing the remodel at your work, he winds up buying flowers for someone else...

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI go on get! No outbreak/pre outbreak(you decide), fluff, smut, miscommunication, cussing, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv(don't do that, make smart choices), cream pie, Joel being a dork.

A/N: First time I've ever actually finished a Joel story I started working on! Many thanks to @strang3lov3 for the encouragement and taking a look at this, @jay-zzle as always for giving me ideas and making moodboards for me because I hate doing them myself! ❤️❤️❤️

🌹This is for @morallyinept’s flora & fauna challenge! 🌹

Divider provided by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist||AO3 Link

As you rush into the building, trying to avoid the construction team surrounding the place, a timid smile crosses your face when you spot Joel, the man responsible for why you’re running late this morning. Instead of getting ready for work like you were supposed to, Joel Miller decided he wanted to spend his morning coaxing another orgasm out of you, as if the three last night weren’t enough. It’s been a couple of months of this. 

It had never been your intention to start sleeping with the hot contractor who had been doing construction at your place of work, you both just happened to be at the same bar one night. One thing led to another and now it’s been this, whatever this is.

“Mornin’ guys,” you say passing the crew, each giving their own sort of greeting back, be it a grunt of acknowledgment or repeating the greeting.

“Mornin’ ma’am,” Joel says with a cheeky smile, “Runnin’ a little late?”

“Yeah, woke up late,” you shrugged, feeling your face heat up.

“There you are!” Becky shouts, making her way towards you, “Angie is up my ass right now about where you are with those reports you said you’d get done yesterday.”

“On it,” you sigh, “Nice talking to you Joel.”

“Oh!” Becky said with a smile, grabbing his bicep, “Hi Joel! You guys sure have been working hard on all of this.”

You try to keep your eyes from rolling at Becky’s consistent attempt at flirting with Joel. She has definitely tried her hardest to get his attention, made cookies “for the crew” but only handed some of them to Joel, tries to talk to him every chance she can, wearing lower cut tops so her cleavage is on full display, batting eyelashes and laughing at any dumb thing he says. It’s starting to get on your nerves, if you’re being honest. Making your way to your desk you open the drawer, shoving your purse inside before closing it and turning on your computer. You open the teams app, sending Angie a quick message to let her know you’ll put the file with the reports in the folder outside her door, grabbing the file and making your way to her office.

Becky is still talking Joel’s ear off and you have to stifle your laugh, watching his eyebrows scrunch together and his polite nod before excusing himself. She catches you as you're on your way back to your cubicle to start the work day.

“That Joel Miller is a man,” Becky sighs, walking beside you, “The things I would let him do to me.”

“Oh jeez,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk.

“I wonder what his dick is like,” she continues, “I bet it’s big.”

You turn to your computer hoping she can’t see the look on your face because then the jig would be up.

“Uhm,” you say, clearing your throat, “You better be careful. Don’t wanna get turned into HR.”

—

“Hello,” a frazzled delivery guy announces himself at the entrance to your cubicle. “I have a delivery for you, miss.”

“For me?!” Becky asks excitedly, seeing the bouquet of flowers. The delivery guy nodded, handing her the flowers. “Who are they from?!”

“Uh… Joel Miller?” The guy says, looking at his sheet. Your jaw drops upon hearing his words. Why on earth would Joel send Becky flowers?

“Oh my god!” Becky squeals with delight, grabbing the card, “Aw! Look! It says darlin’ on the envelope!”

Becky opens the card, reading it aloud:

“Figured a pretty lady like you should have some flowers to look at. Been havin’ the time of my life gettin’ to know ya and would love to take you out. He signed it off with a heart and J. Miller! How sweet is that?!”

Beside yourself on handling this, the only thing you could think of was finding the man himself. If this entire thing between you two was just for fun so be it, but you needed answers.

“Real sweet,” you mutter standing up, “I’m…  uh… I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Becky hums dreamily, staring at the flowers on her desk.

You make your way to the front of the building, spotting Gus, one of the construction guys.

“Can you tell Joel I need to talk to him?”

“Sorry ma’am, he had to leave earlier, something about Tommy.” Gus shrugs. 

“Uhm… okay.” You nod, deciding to make your way to the breakroom, sitting at one of the tables trying to collect your thoughts. Maybe it’s for the best that he left. That way the entire building wouldn’t see you blow up. Are you even still supposed to see each other tonight? That had been the plan when he left this morning. What the actual fuck, you think to yourself, give annoying ass Becky flowers to ask her out, and then fuck you? That two-timing son of a bitch!

“So fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself.

—

You make it through the workday, as best as you can, trying not to think of Joel and how mad you are all while Becky continues to talk about him all day. What should she wear, wondering where he’d take her, what they would do, should she sleep with him on the first date. Hopefully, the Excedrin will kick in soon to help with the teeth grinding headache you’ve had all day. Walking to your car Becky’s shrill voice rings out wishing you a good evening.

“Yeah, you too,” you grumble, pulling your car door open and throwing your purse inside. You’re still so mad, fuming, seeing red as you drive towards your place. Once getting home, you quickly change into comfy clothes, and see you have a text from Joel.

JMiller: Can’t wait to see you beautiful ;) Leavin’ Tommy’s

You scowl looking at the text. How do you even respond to that? Petty, that’s how.

You: K.

You see the text bubbles pop up, disappear then pop up again before his face shows on your screen with an incoming call.

“Hello,” you snap.

“Hey,” Joel says hesitatingly, “Bad day at work?”

“Well, Becky got some lovely flowers delivered at work.”

“Oh?”

“Yep,” you say with a harsh pop at the end.

“And?” Joel asks, “Is that it?”

“Delivery guy and card said they were from you.”

“Fuck me,” Joel groans “Those were not for goddamn Becky!”

“Sure about that?”

“I got them for you.” Joel argues.

“Yeah, okay.” You huff into the receiver, rolling your eyes. “Look, I get it. It’s fine if you didn’t want this going anywhere but you could’ve been honest with me about it.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel groans, “I do want this going somewhere! Like I said, the flowers were for you!”

“Sure,” you say, shaking your head, “Just be honest, Joel. This has just been fun, that’s it. You’re getting your dick wet, stringing me al—“

“God damn it! I am telling the truth!” Joel growls, cutting you off. “I even have proof!”

“What proof?!” You spit back, “The proof of the flowers you sent Becky? Yeah, I saw them, and the card too. Sweet touch signing it off with a heart and then your name.”

Suddenly there is a knock on your door. You cock your head to the side, hearing the knock sound through the phone as well. Of fucking course, Tommy’s is a five minute drive to your place, making your way to the door you swing it open to see Joel standing there. His nostrils flared, phone held up to his ear, dropping it and angrily stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Just give me five minutes, I swear, they were meant for you and I have fuckin’ proof,” Joel says, holding up a piece of paper.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You groan, smacking your phone onto the entry table.  “Why are you here?”

“I was on my way home from Tommy’s. Figure I’d come here first,” Joel says, holding the paper out to you, “Go on, look at it.”

You grab it, glancing it over. Farrah’s Flowers printed at the top, with your name listed as the order’s recipient, eyes bulging out of your head as you look at him.

“Told you.”

“Wait, then how the fuck did they get to Becky then?”

“Somebody fucked up, that’s all I know but that is my copy of the receipt for buyin’ them in the first place, and that is your name on it,” Joel smirks in triumph, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

Your shoulders relax as you open the door wider, motioning your head for him to come in. He gives a subtle nod, making his way into your home, you slump against the door once it’s closed.

“Joel,” you start, “What the fuck are we?”

He cages you against the door, pushing his lower half into you. You sigh, looping your arms around his neck, looking at those dark chocolate eyes.

“Well,” Joel says, kissing your cheek, “I want you,” placing a soft kiss against your lips, “More than just for sex,” he whispers, against your lips breathing in each other's air causing you to feel a dizzying arousal. Lips collide with him in a hungry kiss, tongues rolling against one another, gasping when his hands creep down to hook around your thighs lifting you, grabbing onto your ass before pulling you away from the door and carrying you to your bedroom.

Joel lays you down on your bed hovering over you, never breaking away from your lips, licking into your mouth with desperation like this might be his last chance. Arousal begins pool in your underwear. Hands gliding down his back, feeling the warmth radiating from him, lifting the bottom of his shirt until he finally lifts to fling it off.

“Don’t want anyone else,” Joel husks, lightly biting your neck, causing you to moan at the sensation of his teeth against your skin, “Just you.”

“Joel,” you whimper as his hand travels down the length of your shirt, pushing it up to expose your tits, ducking his head down. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak before switching to give the other equal attention, kissing a trail down the soft flesh of your stomach until he reaches the top of your leggings.

“Can I?” He asks, looking at you, fingers hooking into your waistband. You give a firm nod and he pulls them off along with your underwear. He sighs once they are off, using his shoulders to spread your legs further apart, “So fucking pretty,” he hums, nipping and kissing along your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your center.

You can feel his breath against your folds, trembling with anticipation for his tongue and lips to make contact, letting out a soft moan Joel begins lapping at your folds, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth. Tongue massaging circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair and lightly tugging.

Joel’s hum reverberated into your core. His mouth opened and he began to fuck you with his tongue while firmly holding your gaze. You’re back arched at the sensation, letting out a gasp. You roll your hips against his face, his nose pressing deliciously against your clit. He grunts, moving his thumbs to spread your lips, licking a stripe up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. Your legs begin to shake at the sensation.

“Oh my god, Joel!” You whine, arching your back, feeling the band tightening within your core, begging for release. Joel sinks two of his thick fingers into you causing you to cry out, moving them to massage that sweet spot against your walls, “Yes! Oh my god, fuck!” You could feel the smug smirk on his face, knowing you’re about to come.

“Come on,” he coos, firmly licking your bundle of nerves “Let me have it baby.”

You cry his name out over and over as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing through you. He continues lapping at your folds, wanting to make sure he gets every last drop before you push his head away. He crawls up the length of your body, the denim of his jeans scratching against your skin.

“Good?” He asks, you nod giggling and he smirks, grabbing the nape of his neck you pull him closer to your face, looking into your eyes he whispers a hi. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, surging forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groans into your mouth, grinding his bulge against your center, the rough denim providing friction against your core. His hand moves to his belt, swiftly unhooking it and unbuttoning his jeans. Hands sliding down to help him push the denim off his hips, boxers following suit. You grip his hard length, stroking it from tip to base. Palm spreading the precome over his long thick length. Joel lets out a soft moan at the touch.

“Want you inside me,” you whimper, rubbing his cock against your slick heat. “Please.”

He bats your hand away, grabbing his cock to tease your folds more, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. You let out a moan when his tip catches against your entrance. Only for him to slide back up to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against you.

“Joel,” you begged, titling your pelvis, “Please, please fuck me.”

Joel smirks, sliding his cock back down to your entrance, feeding you his bulbous head. You writhe, feeling the stretch. He sinks into you slowly, filling you up until his tip kisses your cervix. Fingers gripping his back, each of you letting out a satisfied moan.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel murmurs into your neck, nipping and sucking on your pulse point, letting you adjust to his size, “Best pussy ever,” placing gentle kisses along your jaw.

“Joel, move,” you plead, hitching your legs up on his waist, “Need you to move.”

He pulls out slowly before snapping his length into you again, letting out a shaky breath at the harshness of his thrust. Your grip on his back tightens, sinking your nails into his skin. He lets out a hiss as he rocks his hips into you, trying to find that spot that makes you see stars. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, “Don’t want anyone else, darlin’.”

Breathy moans shared between kisses, sweat slicked skin gliding against each other. He pushes your thighs back further into a mating press, finding that sweet spot inside your walls.

“Oh my god,” you whine, back beginning to arch, “Right there!”

His cock massages that spot with every stroke, causing your muscles to tighten. You can feel the coil in your belly tightening, walls beginning to flutter around his shaft as he drills into that spot over and over.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel growls, feeling the heat of his skin slapping against yours, “I need you to come, baby. Ain’t gonna last much longer.”

You moan wantonly as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. Joel holding out to make sure you come first. The coil in your belly finally snaps, sending you over the edge, white hot electricity flowing through every limb. He thrusts into you harshly half a dozen more times before his hips stutter.

“Only you, darlin’, only want you,” he grunts, as he empties himself inside you, painting your walls with his sticky release, “only want you.”

Joel collapses, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your head, nuzzling his nose against yours, placing soft kisses against your lips.

“Only want you,” he sighs.

—

You spent the next hour, in each other's arms, talking, snuggling and kissing.

“I can’t believe you would think I’d want Becky,” Joel booms with laughter, eyes crinkling around the edges. You smirk playfully, slapping his arm.

“Look,” you giggle, “I didn’t know if her flirting finally wore you down!”

“Hi Joel!” He says in an exaggerated high pitch, batting his eyelashes, “My, you sure have been working hard!” he adds with a girly giggle, lifting his pecs to create some sort of cleavage.

“Oh shut up!”

“Did you see the flowers though? Like actually look at ‘em?”

“Not really,” you sigh, playing with a loose thread on your blanket.

“Purple tulips for new beginnings and love,” Joel says, planting a kiss on your cheek, “Jasmine for devotion,” he continues, kissing your other cheek, “and pink roses for appreciation,” he smiles before kissing the tip of your nose.

“Really?”

“Yep, the florist helped me pick them out,” Joel says, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss, “Told ya they were for you.”

[gingerteafairy]

abductor hacker machine (dave lizewski x reader)

You’re Dave’s gym crush. He’s never skipping leg day again.

tags n warnings: college!dave, language, highly suggestive, mentions of handjob, flirting, gym terms. word count: 2.3k masterlist

Dave had arrived at the gym early, excitement buzzing through him because it was back and arms day. The gym wasn’t too crowded, and Todd was just coming in—it felt like the perfect day for an upper-body workout.

“Hey, man. Feeling good today,” Todd greeted him with a quick high five before heading over to stretch.

“Yeah…” Dave nodded, walking to the pull-up bar. He grabbed it, letting his body hang as he stretched his spine, easing into a light isometric hold.

“Dude, I don’t know how you even manage pull-ups. That’s the hardest thing I’ve ever tried,” Todd said, his voice tinged with genuine admiration as Dave began the exercise with surprising finesse. His muscles flexed and tightened with each smooth motion, displaying a control that came from dedication.

That’s the sight you walked into when you entered the gym. The hot nerd was effortlessly pulling himself up on the bar, his form flawless, his focus unshakable. You couldn’t look away, watching until he finally finished, wiping sweat off his brow with the hem of his shirt. When your eyes met, Dave froze for a moment, then followed you with his gaze as you walked toward the squat rack. It was leg day for you.

He didn’t have a choice—he had to say something to his gym crush.

“Dude, where are you going?” Todd asked, puzzled.

“Uhm…leg press,” Dave replied quickly, his tone distracted as his focus stayed locked on you.

“Someone's not skipping leg day for once,” he shook his head, handing a dumbbell.

He watched you doing your exercise, trying to figure out the best thing to do or say. The best option was to go over to you, so he walked toward you with determined steps—but by the time he got there, you had already finished. Awkwardly, he turned around and headed for the calf machine instead. That was the next best option. Pretending nothing happened, however, was a mistake.

“You're such a loser, Dave Lizewski,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing any random weight to load onto the machine.

“Hi, excuse me.”

Dave could barely believe it when he turned around and saw you standing there. He almost dropped the weight and had to lean on the machine to strike a casual pose. Oh my God, she came over. She’s talking to me. She’s actually here.

“I didn’t catch that. What did you say?” he lied, removing one earbud. Of course, he had heard you. He just wanted to make sure this was real.

“I said hi,” you repeated, pulling out one of your own earbuds.

“Uh… hi. I’m great, and you?” he stammered awkwardly, noticing the slight confusion flicker across your face at his strange response.

“I’m glad you’re good…” you laughed softly, resting your hands on your hips. “Um… how much longer are you going to be on this machine?”

Idiot, idiot, idiot. Of course, it’s about the machine.

“I just started, but… d’you wanna share?” he asked hopefully. However, when you glanced at the amount of weight loaded onto the machine, you immediately decided against it. How on earth is this guy pushing all that weight with his calves?

“No, it’s fine… I’ll wait,” you replied, heading to a corner to check your phone while you waited.

Dave closed his eyes, cursing himself for how poorly the entire interaction had gone. He wiped the sweat from his face, which had only increased after talking to you, and rushed through the exercise with poor form, desperate to finish quickly. Without looking back, he walked away, leaving the machine free for you.

“Fucking idiot, i wanna die” Dave muttered as he walked over to Todd, who was finishing his shoulder workout.

“Hey, dude. Did you talk to her?” Todd asked, grunting as he set his weights down.

“I did, but now I’m gonna have to do every single posterior chain exercise known to man so she doesn’t think i’m a total loser,” Dave blurted, running his hand through his hair. His eyes wandered to you across the gym, finishing your set. “Fuck. I’m never coming back to this gym ever again.”

“Relax, man. She’s probably not even thinking about it,” Todd tried to calm him down, noticing Dave rubbing his forehead and checking his pulse.

“She is. She is, Todd. She's so fucking perfect and I just said do you wanna share like a total moron.” He whimpered, scratching his head.

“So, what’s the plan now? Glutes?” Todd chuckled, but Dave’s eyes lit up.“No… don’t tell me—are you serious?”

“I’m doing everything. It’s important for testosterone production,” Dave mumbled, walking over to the hip abduction machine and staring at it like it was some alien contraption. “Shit… I have no idea how this thing works.”

He sat down, looking around desperately for help—any help—praying for someone to rescue him. “Hey, God. I know i haven't been the best dude on earth, but please. I really need help, i need to do it. Send someone. Anyone. Just don't send a scary dude, please.”

Unfortunately for him, it was you who got there first.

“Just starting?” you inquired, placing your water bottle on the holder.

“Uh… yeah, I… uh, wanna try?” he murmured, blinking in slight panic as he stood up from the machine to let you take over. You smiled, taking the opportunity and settling in to begin your exercise.

And God, Dave had to muster every ounce of self-control not to stare at your legs or the muscles working with precision, he didn't even want to mention the word glutes because it seemed so fucking wrong in this moment. He turned to face the wall instead.

“These atoms are… amazing. Science is really evolving these days!” he blurted to the man next to him, pointing at the wall. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Is it some kind of new cement?”

“It’s plaster,” the guy replied, frowning in confusion before returning to his workout. “Weirdo.”

Dave turned back toward you, forcing himself to focus on your face. But then he saw you finishing and standing to the side. He had no choice now but to actually use the machine. Swallowing hard, he sat down.

“This can’t be that hard,” he whispered to himself, loading the machine with the maximum weight. He tried to open his legs, but the machine didn’t budge an inch.

“Wow, this machine is different, I know it. Heavier than I expected,” he chuckled nervously. You bit your lip to suppress a laugh of your own—it was pretty clear to you that this guy had never touched this machine before.

“Here, lemme help,” you offered, moving closer to him. He froze but nodded, letting you adjust his position.

“Sit back a little and tilt your torso forward,” you instructed, placing your hand lightly on the machine. “Set it to 30. Then, open your legs as wide as you can. You’ll feel better if you keep your glutes really really up, okay?”

“Okay,” he muttered, adjusting the settings. He tried again but barely moved the machine, the faintest clinking sound coming from the weights. She’s going to think I’m so weak. I'm dead. Dead, buried and dusted.

“Want me to show you?” you asked, and before he could think, he nodded. He jumped up, letting you take his place, but instantly regretted it the moment you sat down.

“No… uh, no need to worry about it…” he stuttered, flushing red as you adjusted the weight and got into position.

“I don’t mind helping,” you replied with a small smile, demonstrating the movement with flawless form. “Like this—glutes up and open as wide as possible.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dave squeaked, covering his face to hide his embarrassment and to resist the urge to glance back at you.

“So, you’ll want to do this fifteen times. Watch carefully, so you don’t mess it up,” you explained, your voice teasing, aware of the effect you were having on him. It was clear he was trying his best not to lose his composure, and you couldn’t deny he was adorable.

“Got it. I understand. Amazing. Perfect,” he blurted quickly, stuffing his hand in his pocket as if to shield himself from… whatever was happening internally. And this whatever was his cock awakening every single time you opened your legs and he could see your thighs and especially, the thing between them.

“Great. Want to give it a try?” you asked, standing up and stepping closer to him—closer than strangers typically stood.

“Uh… I, uh…” He took a deep breath, catching the faint scent of your perfume and noticing the sheen of sweat on your forehead. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Thank you for everything, the instructions and everything, all. Good… good workout!” And with that, he bolted.

You watched him rush to the locker room, nearly bumping into everyone in his path. He was so adorable. If only you knew his name. As you tried to figure out a way to ask him without it seeming weird, Dave locked himself in a bathroom stall, sitting on the toilet and contemplating his situation. And, to be honest, it wasn’t looking great.

“Shit,” he muttered, glancing around, straining his ears to confirm no one else was in the bathroom, downing his shorts and boxers.

He took a deep breath, touching his erection, whimpering in the exact moment he thought about you and your hands with adorable little calluses from the workout routine, rubbing on his length. His cum spread on your gym top and sweaty face from bouncing on him like a fucking squat session.

“No, I can’t do this.” he murmured, dressing himself once again, sparing the thoughts away.

He left the stall, splashing water on his face and waiting for his body to calm down. Then, he looked at the paper glued to the bathroom mirror with a comic sans writing.

Hey, champ.

Please don't masturbate in the bathroom. It might clog the toilet. Thanks and good exercise!

- beast mode gym support

“you must be kidding me…” He cursed, splashing water to his face once again and looking at the mirror. One guy gave him a once-over, chuckling at his bulge. Embarrassed, Dave frowned and hurried out of the bathroom, only to come face-to-face with you.

“Oh, hi,” you greeted, breaking the silence first and meeting his eyes.

“Hey…” he replied, swallowing hard. “It’s super crowded in there—the men’s room.”

“Yeah…” you agreed, keeping your gaze on him. You wanted an opportunity, and here it was. “Hey… what’s your name? I mean, I taught you earlier, but I never asked.”

“Dave. Dave Lizewski,” he replied, grinning like an idiot, relieved to finally have a normal conversation. When you said your name, it was like a little piece of heaven to him. Beautiful, just like you. It fits you perfectly.

“It’s easier for me because of college. I think we always come around the same time,” you added, stepping away from the bathroom entrance and into the hallway.

“I’m in college too,” he blurted out quickly. “Uh… engineering. I used to draw a lot, and ended up liking it. Also because my friend Todd decided on it, and I’m terrible at making decisions.”

“That’s really cool. And tough,” you laughed, and for the first time all day, he didn’t feel like a total idiot. “If you ever need help, I’m here.”

“Of course… I mean, thanks for the help earlier with the… glutes,” he chuckled nervously, joining in when you laughed too. Please, smile more. Smile at me again.

“Sure,” you replied, taking note of how much more handsome he was up close. “So… see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow. Definitely,” he said quickly, his eyes lighting up. “But tomorrow I’m not doing glutes… it’s back day.”

“Great. That way you can help me,” you said without thinking, surprised at your own boldness.

Dave nodded, his heart pounding harder than any cardio session could ever manage. “Yeah, of course. I won’t embarrass myself with that one.”

“You didn’t embarrass yourself,” you replied with a laugh, tilting your head slightly. God, this guy is so handsome.

“Oh, come on, now you’re just lying,” he joked, and you opened your mouth in mock disbelief.

“Careful, Lizewski. I might do heavy glute exercises on you,” you teased, though the playful threat only made Dave’s face turn as red as his gym shorts. “I mean… glute exercises with you. Uh, you know… something intense.”

“You can throw whatever you want at me,” he blurted out, biting his lip. “I mean weights. I can handle a lot of weight… like, a lot of weight…” he breathed, glancing at your thighs, imagining his hands lifting them up to his waist.

“That’s… good to know,” you replied, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You blinked, realizing how bold you were being, flirting with a guy in the middle of the gym hallway, probably with half the room overhearing. “Uh, so… Dave…”

“Do you have a number?” he asked suddenly, his hand forming a fist as he mentally kicked himself for such a clumsy question. “I mean, of course, you have a number. Everyone does. I just… wanted to know if you’d share it, you know… so we could talk about, um, workouts?”

“Workouts, right,” you said, trying not to laugh as you swallowed the lump in your throat. You recited your number, and Dave immediately pulled out his phone to save it, as if it were the most valuable treasure in the world.

“Thank you,” he murmured, grinning as he slid his phone into his pocket, treating it like a priceless artifact.

“No problem. See you tomorrow,” you mentioned, finally retreating, your face flushed with both nerves and excitement.

“Yeah, tomorrow…” he murmured, lifting a hand in a small wave.

“Close your mouth, man. You look like an idiot,” Todd teased as he approached. Dave nudged him lightly, but Todd only laughed harder. “You got the girl. Congrats.”

“Not yet,” Dave replied, watching as you finally walked out the door. “But I will. Even if I have to do the hip abductor every fucking day.”

“Alright, Nicki Minaj. Let's eat some protein,” Todd quipped, earning an eye-roll from Dave, who grabbed his backpack and followed Todd out. As they left, Dave’s mind was entirely consumed with thoughts of you—and he mentally reviewed every back exercise to make sure he’d never mess up in front of you again.

[dollypopup]

I truly cannot overstate just how much I adore Colin Bridgerton as a male love lead, and how important his story is, in particular in a current, modern reading. We live in a time of alpha male machismo that in many ways mirrors the sexism of the historical time period Colin is in, and we have a hero who explicitly rejects it. More than that, we have a hero who first tries on the persona, first tries to fit in, and then determines, with no outside influence and all on his own, that it's wrong. That he doesn't want to be like the men of his society, that he doesn't like the expectation of sex without love and commitment and connection, that he doesn't want to be 'one of the boys', even if it comes at their derision.

Because when Violet says he has always been her most sensitive child, when he has always considered others before himself, when he has always offered a joke or a moment of levity- for so long, he felt he had to. That there was no other choice.

Colin Bridgerton, The Great Pretender, is finally coming into the light.

Take my hand. Come walk with me.

Colin's arc is incredibly clear, and incredibly dear to me. We can track his progress throughout the seasons he has been in, but if we consider his backstory, it comes even more in clarity.

Piecing together a timeline with some influence from the books and loose historical accuracy, Colin loses his father at 12 and then is sent off to Eton. And he is a tiny thing when his father passes, shorter even than his 9 year old sister, Eloise.

(Yes, I checked!! He's half a head shorter than Eloise, and an entire head shorter than Daphne. This boy is SMALL)

So it makes a lot of sense to me that this is the start of his fake-it-to-make-it personality. He cannot grieve with his family in these circumstances, he's been sent off to school with other boys who are bigger and stronger than him, and he must realize relatively quickly that weakness in their eyes will never be tolerated. In fact, Eton was well known for corporal punishment and bullying during this time. Older boys were well known to mistreat the younger once, and considering just how small and soft-hearted Colin is, and just how vulnerable he is having lost his father-

Of course Colin would become a target of such.

And despite that, we meet him in Season 1 with an endearing earnestness and hopefulness in the world. Something inside him, something sweet and gentle and warm, thrives to live. And fights against grief to do so. How easy it would have been for him to lose his father and be bitter. How easy for him to see his father die from the steps of Aubrey Hall, to be sent to a boarding school away, and withdraw in on himself.

And yet, he doesn't.

At least, not in the way one would suspect. Instead, Colin becomes a chronic people pleaser. If the people around him are happy, then he will be safe. Will not be hurt. And they have no space for his own hurt, regardless. There's hardly even any space for his mirth, as most people didn't even reply to his letters on his travels the previous season.

In Colin's confession in Season 3, he says 'I have spent so long trying to feel less', and this numbing begins early in his life. He's a consummate gentleman in Season 1. He does everything by the book, everything as he should. He wants to be accepted in his society, wants to be taken seriously, wants to belong. So he sees a pretty woman, and he gets along with her well enough, and he courts her. Openly, honestly, in full view. It isn't a heart-stopping love, but he has numbed himself for years at this point, so affection will do, and if proper men of his society are married, well, maybe he'd finally be taken seriously.

And yet, no one notices him, even still. No one except Penelope. His own mother doesn't recognize his behavior, and worries for him after she does. How long has it been since she's actually seen him? We know from the show that he's incredibly close to his mother, and loves her dearly, but we also know that after Edmund's passing, Violet was mired in grief and post-partum depression. Colin misses much of this as a firsthand witness since he's at school, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't be able to tell, wouldn't be affected by losing his mother and father in one fell swoop. In fact, Colin loses his connection to the majority of his family in being sent to school so soon after the tragedy. So of course he comes back and he tries not to make waves. Tries to do things correctly.

His friction with Anthony proves time and time again that nothing he does is entirely ever able to fully please him, and this causes contention in their brotherly bond. Of all the siblings, Anthony is arguably the most harsh with Colin. And he is also the model for who a man should be in the family, as the head of the family.

So when Anthony sees Colin earnestly try to marry, he scoffs him off. Accuses Colin of only wanting to marry to have sex, and then claiming "It is my fault. I should have taken you to brothels." This is the first on-screen shaming of Colin looking for connection before sex, and Colin doubles down. He wants to marry for love.

But he doesn't actually love Marina. Neither of them truly know each other, and so when it all blows up, and he is humiliated to the entirety of his community, Colin gets his first taste of romantic failure. He tried to do it right, and it ended more wrong than he could have ever imagined. So, maybe Anthony was right. Maybe he is just a foolish, green boy, who has no idea how to go about things. The fallout of his failed engagement echoes in the persona he puts on in Season 3, and the choices he undergoes during them. Is it any wonder he ends up going to brothels to have unfulfilling sex if even his own BROTHER, the head of his family, tells him to do so?

It doesn't happen right away, though. Despite the fact that no one truly checks on him or sees how this breakup effects him (Eloise dismisses the hurt he must feel in light of such events with an honestly rather accurate wave-away "Men are always less affected", and that is true), it is evident that he is NOT okay.

We leave Colin in Season 1 putting on a mask, a happy face to his family, a 'you inspired me' to Penelope, and then spends his travels sad. Depressed. Taking drugs to try to ease his mind, occupying himself with writing to Penelope. In Season 2, he spends the entirety of it trying to be useful. And he does this with Penelope. He feels deeply for her, he cares so much for her, and he even says it to her aloud 'You are special to me' and 'I will always look after you' and how he could never give her up. Season 2 is a season of healing for Colin- he closes his chapter with Marina with a relationship post-mortum conversation after he does a wellness check to make sure she's alive (let's be real here, no one else was going to reach out to her. She made it clear to him that even her own father didn't want her), makes amends with Will, proves himself useful to Penelope, and departs on a high: he thinks he threaded the needle. He thinks he was successful sending Jack off, that he made Penelope happy, and that he's in with The Boys.

But whilst the person he is around Penelope is genuine, the person he is around these men are not. We know from Season 3 that they don't actually like him. They make snide, underhanded comments toward him, and laugh at him. I stand by the idea that end of season 2 is Fife and Co. laughing at Penelope AND laughing at Colin. They don't care about their friendship, they're teasing him for caring about her so openly, and Colin is protective of the relationship he has with Penelope. So he makes a comment for the boys, and puts on his mask. 'I would never court Penelope Featherington' (look, I'm just like you. I walk like you, talk like you, speak like you) 'Not in your wildest fantasies, Fife' (I am one of you one of you one of you- so why does it feel so hollow?)

He gets, now, his first taste of acceptance from them. They come to him to Mondrich's bar, he repays his slight against him, and he feels he is one of them. (Does he truly *want* to be one of them?) And so when we open Season 3, it's a smooth progression.

Colin is walking the walk and talking the talk, and yet his heart isn't in it. He's not one of these smarmy men, but he mimics them. Their behavior. In part, at least. Whilst Fife is out preying on 18 year old women in coat closets, Colin is telling gaggles of girls how pretty they are and how with such nice dresses, they're sure to find a husband. He makes it clear he's not an option, but that he doesn't mind being a fantasy. And Luke Newton does an amazing job making that clear: there are three sides of Colin. The Colin portrayed to his society in the light in good company (1) and the Colin portrayed to his society in the dark, in. . .less savory circles (aka: The Lads)(2), his 'armor' as his mum calls it. And finally, the most important but the one kept closest to the chest: the Colin of truth. The Colin who cries alone in his room after a breakup, the Colin who doesn't burden others with his feelings, the Colin who writes to Penelope, the Colin who loves deeply and feels deeply.

But his society has no use for a man like the real Colin, they do not *want* a man like real Colin, so he puts it under lock and key. And so much of this is centered around his feelings about sex, so here comes my 'Colin is Queer' soapbox. Colin does not experience sexual attraction like the rest of the men of the ton. He is expected to find it casual and be cavalier about it. To just want to fuck for the sake of fucking. But Colin needs love and romance and connection to actually enjoy sexual interactions. Nowadays, we recognize this as being on the asexual spectrum, of being demisexual, but he didn't have words for that in the time period he's in, so he has to forge ahead to figure himself out without a community identity to find solidarity with. That's what makes the brothel scenes so interesting as a narrative device: in the first, he's masking even in the midst of it, and in the second, he can't. After kissing Penelope, he finally, for the first time in his life, has a sexual interaction that means something to him.

It's the first one he truly enjoys, and the first one that feels right to him. It clicks for him that oh, that's what it's meant to be like. And the strain of that realization whilst still having to be what his society expects of him puts immense stress on his shoulders. You see how he grows more and more uncomfortable about the conversations, until finally he rejects it outright.

Even when it's very much not encouraged for him to do so. He's even told "You are much more fun this season." That's why he hides himself. From near everyone, even his family, even his brothers. It's telling how Anthony's positive interaction with Colin is when they're at the club, and Anthony praises him for his most recent attention. Have we seen much of Anthony being proud of Colin, otherwise? Not really. So he's reinforced in his persona. Doesn't boast of his travels because it didn't have anyone liking him for it, before. Doesn't even say how many cities he's gone to. Except with Penelope.

In the books, there's a line about their kiss, referencing how his world will never be the same. And it won't be. Because when Colin says that she helps him see the world in new ways, it's in a multitude of meanings.

Penelope refuses to let him wear the mask, because in truth, Penelope is the only one who doesn't like it. Not only does she see the real Colin, but she enjoys the real Colin. Whilst everyone else is simpering over Colin's new look and attitude, rejects who he is in reality, Penelope dismisses it, wants the person she knows him to be instead. It's only when he strips down the facades that Penelope allows him into her life again. And her Whistledown article was harsh, but it was also true. He *is* masking. He *is* putting on a persona and a role. But she was wrong when she asked if Colin even knows which is real: Colin knows very well which is real. And he also knows the realities of him haven't been accepted.

When Colin tells Penelope charm can be taught, he speaks from experience. When he says 'living for the expectations of others is a trap' it is because he has already fallen into it, and if he can't dig himself out, maybe he can keep her from it. Colin tells her 'you do not need lessons' and that she is fine exactly as she is, because just as she sees the real him and loves him, he sees the real her, and loves her, too. But they both live in the constraints of their society, and so they both put on the masquerade. Even sometimes to hide from each other.

The current climax of his arc is when he's out with the lads, after they all go off to the brothel again, and he disassociates from the experience. Playing cards and insisting on sharing sexual exploits, to which he does not want to take part, and makes a lighthearted dig at them. 'There is no gentleman at this table'. He includes himself in that, and then clarifies. He speaks aloud for the first time to them the truth of his heart- 'Do you not ever tire of the expectation to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning? Do you not find it lonely?' Can it really only just be him?

And it is. Or, maybe it isn't, but the rest of them aren't brave enough to admit it, so they're okay in making him feel like it is, in outcasting him for being a romantic, for caring about a woman beyond what she can provide for him sexually. Colin professes he doesn't like who he's become, doesn't like the expectations for him to behave the way he has, and they laugh at him. Again. He is made fun of, again.

He goes home and he falls in his bed and he feels like he lost it all. Lost Penelope to his own advice, and lost his newfound shine in his community. But when he's faced with which one matters more to him, he chooses Penelope. Unhesitatingly.

Colin chooses to be sensitive. He chooses to be a warm-hearted, gentle man in a society that prefers sexist machismo. Act one way in the light and another in the shadows. Colin wants to live authentically, as a man he doesn't really have a role model for. He is brave and he is tender, he sees the sexism of his society and he rejects it. He sees the importance Penelope has in his life, the way she makes him feel, and he embraces her wholeheartedly. He wants love and romance, he wants connection and meaning.

Colin, The Great Pretender, sick of pretending. Colin, walking into that ballroom and giving Fife the cut direct when he invites him out. Colin, cutting into a dance in the middle of a ball between Penelope and a man the entire city knows is about to propose. Colin staring deeply into her eyes with such unfiltered longing even *Cressida* can't help but notice what's going on. Colin running off after Penelope in full view of his society, outrunning a *carriage* to see her. Begging her to let him in. Colin on his knees, all but flaying his chest open for Penelope to see his heart. Colin made a choice when that candle flickered out, and his choice was Penelope. His choice was himself. And his choice was to flip off societal expectation and to live for love, damn the consequences.

I think our own world would be a better place if modern men took his example, too. Colin Bridgerton as male love lead in Bridgerton, a global show, is such a refreshing, wonderful example. A man who tried to be like what the world wanted, and who decided to go against the gender norms of his time. A man who prioritizes the woman he loves, who risks ridicule in doing so and comes to realize that he doesn't care. He doesn't care anymore about being one of the boys, one of the lads, one of the guys. Fuck his society if his society can't recognize the beauty of what he feels with Pen. He cares about being the best self he can be. And that best self is around Penelope, inspired by Penelope.

Because how he is with Penelope? God, I could swoon. At every turn, he prioritizes her comfort and personhood. He validates her, he sees her in beautiful, positive light and he helps her see herself that way, too. He encourages her to be brave because he already feels she is, he refuses to let her call herself stupid or a laughingstock, he apologizes without excuses, he checks in on her every step of the way. He's so passionate in that carriage, he's burning for her, he's yearning, but he doesn't do anything until she agrees for him to. He confesses his feelings and when she says they're friends, he backs off. He listens, he cares. He apologizes for overstepping her boundaries, and then when she gives him her consent, the only thing on his mind is showing how much he wants and appreciates her by providing her pleasure. Colin, the people pleaser, dedicated only to pleasing two people in that moment: Penelope, and himself. Because he wants to do that, to give her an orgasm that exists just for her. He's a witness to it, and that's pleasure for him, too. He waits for her nod of consent, he revels in seeing her enjoying herself. And the aftercare- I could cry.

Colin is a man who had every single reason not to be a kind, sensitive soul, and still he chose it. Chose to share it because the headline, even a wallflower can bloom, that's not just for Penelope.

It's for Colin, too.

[awrkive]

tlp jk is def the type to absolutely sob when he sees oc walk down the aisle/when he’s trying to propose to her and it maybe just me but I feel like after that one year anniversary he’s like I’m wifing this girl DOWNN cause I feel like he lich has the ring and everyth ready to go he’s waiting he’s prepped 😭

here it is!!! #thee proposal drabble this is literally the cutest thing ever i wish love was real 😖🥹 hope u enj!!!!!!!!!!

summary: in which jungkook proposes and it doesn't start off well

w/c: 3.7k

warning/s: tlp couple is extremely in love that is a warning. they're also cry babies. listen to something by the beatles for the major feels 😔

“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, matching your pace. “Are we really fighting right now?” 

“No.” Is your stern response, continuing your quick steps without even bothering to look back at him. 

“I guess we are fighting right now.” Jungkook mumbles to himself, taking two big strides so he can finally catch up with you. 

You don’t pay him any attention when he slides his arm around your waist while the other holds the bag of large popcorn you bought a while ago, leaning down to kiss the side of your head. Jungkook doesn’t even care about the people passing by around the cinema; they have lives to care about on their own – he can kiss his girlfriend wherever and whenever he wants. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers in your hair, enough for only you to hear. 

There’s a crease on your forehead that hasn’t ceased ever since you left the restaurant you had your dinner at. But after a few beats, you let out a sigh. 

“I just really wanted to see the movie in IMAX.” you lament, and Jungkook feels bad. He really does. 

“I know, baby, I really am sorry,” he apologizes once again. “We can see it tomorro—” but he realizes you both have a full-time shift, so he opts for, “–next week?” 

“Jungkook, the screening ends in the next two days.” you say, tone bordering on annoyed now. You reel it back in, gently saying, “I just– I told you to hurry up earlier, but you kept on changing your hair even though– you know what, forget about it. Which cinema were we in, again?” 

Jungkook’s nerves begin to kick in, because you look like you’re genuinely upset now. He can tell it by the tone of your voice, the disappointment and the simmering irritation of having to deal with the situation. You don’t get angry often – no scratch that, you don’t get angry at all. However, it does come in withdrawal-like gestures and behavior – like now. 

And again, Jungkook really does feel bad for having to do what he did earlier. You weren’t able to purchase tickets online so you had to make do with buying on the actual booth – and because Jungkook took way too long in the comfort room of the restaurant fixing his hair, you arrived at the cinema way too late and the tickets for the last IMAX screening of the night ran out. It left you with no choice but to go with the regular one instead, and needless to say, you’re not at all that happy about that. 

Well, shit. Jungkook thinks. This date is not going well at all. The waitress at the restaurant you ate at a while ago openly flirted with him on your table and he was too stunned to do something that you had to tell her off by yourself. That had obviously taken a hit on your mood, and the cinema thing just kind of maybe amplified it and Jungkook thinks he’s beginning to get fucked.

“I’ll make up it up to you, baby–” 

“The tickets, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook purses his lips into a thin line and gives them to you.

You walk alongside each other quietly, but Jungkook doesn’t let go of your waist while you head towards the dark and quiet hallway, leading to the seats. You don’t pry his hand off so maybe – maybe – that’s a good thing. 

But god, this night isn’t going well like he wanted it to be. Suddenly, he’s nervous again. More nervous that he was in the shower awhile ago when you were still prepping for the date back at home. He’s anxious about fucking the whole thing up, and sure, he could trust his track record of never fucking up when it comes to doing big things in his life, but this is different. This will be different. And he’s just so fucking scared that he checks on his watch again. 

8:22pm. 

Eight minutes before the movie starts in your cinema. And eight minutes more before the–

“Jungkook,” You call him, and he’s just in the middle of pushing the seat down for you when you do so. He looks at you. Confused, you ask, “Do you have somewhere to go?” 

“Huh?”

“You keep on looking at your watch. You have been since we were at the restaurant.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he’s thankful there’s barely any lights in the hall.

“I– no. No.” He shakes his head, placing down the bag of popcorn in the middle and takes your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. “I’m sorry, did I keep doing that?” He asks consciously.

He’s really fucking this up, and you’re noticing it. 

“Yes, it’s bothering me a little,” You shuffle in your seat a little, facing Jungkook. Softly, you ask, “Do you wanna go home? We can ditch the movie. I’m sorry for being a dickhead the whole night. It’s not an excuse but I really wanted to watch this movie in IMAX… but it’s fine. I’m not mad at you. I’m just in a… mood. And I know I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry. I’m being so unappreciative over here – I know you were supposed to work on your research–”

“Hey,” Jungkook stops you before you can even finish that. “No, baby. This is our date. I don’t wanna go home yet and I’m genuinely really sorry for missing the IMAX screening.” He’d add he didn’t mean to take long in the comfort room earlier… but that would be a lie. He intended to do that so you can both arrive here on time like planned. 

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Still… I’m sorry for being a little bitch.” 

“Not true. You’re an angel.” Jungkook says and brings your interlocked hands up to kiss your knuckles. “Love you.” 

You frown. “Love you too.” 

That earns you a hearty chuckle from him. “I love you more.” 

“Not that again.” You sigh, turning sideways to look ahead on the screen but not breaking away from his hold. 

Jungkook contains his smile as his gaze falls to the big screen as well, nerves crumbling down a little at the exchange. You’re the only person who can make him nervous but the only one who can take it away at the same time. 

“Huh,” you utter suddenly in the middle of some trailer playing. “It’s so weird there’s only a few people here.”

At that, Jungkook’s heart rate picks up a bit. “Y-yeah? Well, it’s late at night.” 

“Fair.” 

“And this movie’s not really new, right? Just an anniversary screening thing.” Jungkook continues to add, as if determined to justify your claim. 

You nod. “I guess you’re right.” 

“Yep.” 

His phone lights up and you’re busy sipping on your drink so Jungkook takes that as an opportunity to check the messages he received.

tae [8:28pm]: starting in 2

tae [8:28pm]: good luck buddy

Jungkook swipes his tongue over his lips – a nervous habit – quickly turning it off and pocketing the device. He places his arm on the arm rest and taps his fingers on the plastic surface anxiously. 

It feels like there’s a ticking clock above his head when the trailer finally ends, because he knows the thing should start rolling. 

And Jungkook swears he’s prepared for this for so many weeks. Months for the matter. It’s now May and the ring has been bought since February. What was once tucked away from the depths of his closet is now snugged in the pockets of his trouser, deep enough that you couldn’t pinpoint the bulging outline of the box.

Jungkook originally planned for you both to be out of the country when he does it. But things got really hectic at the hospital and while he personally could’ve still taken a leave, you couldn’t. Jungkook brought up the idea of vacationing a little, “Just for a week,”, he said, but then you sadly told him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to and he understood that greatly. He’s in the same line of work, after all. 

So, with what seemed to be the nth deliberation with Doyeon, Taehyung, and Nayeon, he ultimately decided on this set-up. You know; trick you into going to the mall with him so you can pass by the cinema and he successfully executes the proposal seamlessly. But obviously, it didn’t go as smoothly as that.

After your dinner, you impulsively decided that you wanted to watch a movie in IMAX, but it starts at exactly as Jungkook’s proposal, and so he had to compromise a little bit; the admittedly poor (but effective) solution coming in the form of intentionally staying a little longer in the comfort room of the restaurant just so you two would be lat. 

And Jungkook swears it’s for a good reason! Because everything’s prepped and ready to roll and he can’t have himself waste another perfect opportunity. He remembers almost popping the question three months ago, two months ago, month ago, few weeks ago and heck, even last night – but he’d always get cold feet and think the time wasn’t right. 

Right now, though, is different. 

And he wants it so badly to be different.

Good thing you settled things quickly. Now that his being late is past you, he can be a little more confident in what he’s about to do. 

The next trailer shows up and Jungkook sits upright, knowing what’s coming. He has it memorized, down to each frame. He was the one who edited it, after all, a product of his humble multimedia skills, that is. Jungkook could’ve gone to a professional but he really wanted to do it himself, scared they wouldn’t be able to tell you what he wanted to. And so he did. The gang also told him that it would be better if he did it himself.

And now he’s showing it to you – you, who’s completely clueless beside him. 

It starts as a bit of a misdirect. There’s an intro from a famous movie studio, and a scene from a real movie – and so of course you don’t suspect anything, as Jungkook could say from his peripheral view.

Suddenly, the screen goes black. It causes a pregnant pause, stretched to exactly five seconds (again, Jungkook edited that), and then, a familiar clip suddenly plays. 

It’s a video of you taken from Jungkook’s camcorder back in med school. First year, around the second semester. You were at Moon’s Printing Shop and you were looking down at your notes when Jungkook, behind the camera, called your name. 

You looked up, hair messy from an all-nighter study but Jungkook’s certain the Jungkook behind the scene was still thinking you were the prettiest girl he’s ever seen just like he’s thinking now. 

“Who would you wanna be if you were given the chance to be somebody else in your next life?” 

You grimace. “Hopefully, still me.” 

“So boring,” Jungkook exaggerated, his laughter reverberating in the hall of the theater. “Be serious.” 

You looked flustered in the video. “I’m serious. I don’t wanna be somebody else.” 

In his seat, Jungkook feels the real you sitting beside him tugging at your enclosed hands together, so he looks at you. 

“Jungkook, what is this?” You say, evidently unaware of what’s currently happening, your brows furrowed in that cute confusion. 

“Just something I’ve been working on for the past three months.” he smiles, bringing your hands together to his lips again. He just couldn’t stop kissing and touching you even if he tries.

You stare at him with your mouth agape, but you don’t say anything else, your gaze falling back to the screen once again. 

“Okay, since you don’t wanna play this game I wanna be Darth Vader.” Jungkook said in the video. 

“What? The evil guy from Star Wars?” You frowned. “That’s not… hmm… okay. I guess I wanna be… Spongebob, then.” 

“Oh. Wow. Interesting. Alright, Darth Vader’s out. I wanna be Patrick instead.” 

“I like that. So we’ll still be bestfriends, right?” 

“Yeah. And I still get to stress you out even in the next life.” 

That made you laugh, the warm burst of laughter filling the hall which makes Jungkook’s lips curl up as he watches the screen. He can never get tired of it; your smile, your laugh, your face as it lights up. There’s something so incredibly angelic about you he sometimes thinks you’re not human at all. Or maybe just part-human… nonetheless, he feels grateful. For literally everything. 

Something in the way she moves…

The video transitions to another reel of you taken by Jungkook while The Beatles’ Something plays in the background. 

"Oh my god..." Jungkook hears you gasp beside him, but he doesn't allow himself to break just yet. Instead, he tightens his grip on your hand, feeling your response as you hold on just as firmly.

The screen continues to show candid moments of you from med school. All recorded and taken by Jungkook; the trips you took during that time, that rave party you went to where you got extremely drunk – and when that showed up, you giggled beside him and said, “I told you to delete that.”, which he just laughed at. 

Later on, the clips got more recent, you in your lilac dress and Jungkook’s white tux… it was a video of you dancing in Nayeon’s wedding. 

“W-wha–… I didn’t – who took that?” You whisper, sounding in awe. 

“Nayeon was apparently recording from the stage at that time.” Jungkook says, looking at you and smiling when he sees that you have your eyes glued to the screen. 

“This is so…” you trail off, but you don’t really say anything in continuation. 

Recent videos of you play, capturing moments from the two years you’ve been together. There’s that clip in Vienna, a few in Florence, Paris, Melbourne... It’s surreal to think that he captured those memories, never imagining they’d be used for something like this. 

Something in the way she knows

And all I have to do is think of her

Something in the things she shows me

I don't want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

The song fades to an end and so did the compilation of your videos. The screen shows Jungkook this time instead. He leaned towards the camera, checked the optics, and then smiled a little. From the background, you know it was taken by the wall of his room, near the window because you can see the Sanrio plushie you put on the table beside there. It’s a little out of frame but you can still recognize it. 

Then, he spoke. 

“Uhm, hi,” He started, and you hold your breath, feeling like you’re on the edge of your seat but not in that anxious way. “I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I’m thinking of doing this video… for my proposal – and ah, my proposal – wait, I really should’ve written a script for this but I wanted this to be natural as much as possible and I’m going off-track so we’ll move on to what I really wanna say,” 

You can’t help but laugh at that, and you hear Jungkook joining in with you. 

“__, you’re the love of my life. You’re my lover, but you’re my best friend most of all. I look back on the times we’ve spent together – a decade. There was no time in those years that I didn’t thank my lucky stars for knowing and meeting you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I really hope you know how much I love you because no matter how hard I try to put it into action and words, no amount of it would tell you how I truly feel.” A pause. Then he took out something from his pocket. Raising his hand, a red velvet box appeared in the frame. He was about to open it when suddenly, your voice is heard behind the camera. 

“Jungkook?” 

Jungkook quickly pocketed the box, and the camera shook a little, the angle now distorted, probably due to his panic upon hearing your voice. 

“Yes, baby?” The audio played. 

“You were doing something?” 

“Nah. Just trying out my new camera.” Jungkook said. 

“Oh. Lemme see.” 

The camera got picked up, and Jungkook switched the camera to you.

In your seat, you nibble on your bottom lip upon seeing your own face this time, a poor attempt to stop your jaw from breaking apart because you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling watching the whole thing. 

“Pretty girl.” You hear Jungkook say behind the recorder. His hand came up to caress your face in the video, thumb rubbing over your cheek. “I love you.” 

You looked confused at first but then you told him, anyway, “I love you too.” 

You leaned down, and the video gets switched out to another one of Jungkook on a different day. 

“Sorry the video got interrupted by my gorgeous girlfriend.”

You both laugh at that, and as if on cue, your eyes meet – silently acknowledging that you’re thinking the same thing. In that shared glance, it's clear you both understand how things escalated in that moment, that night – how that kiss turned into something more.

“I just wanted to say that, uh, I love her. No, you, I’m talking to you–” He sighed in the clip, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway. I love you. I love you so much, baby. More than anything else in the world. I feel like I don’t say it enough although Taehyung teases me about convulsing if I can’t say it to you for no longer than five minutes – he’s probably right but that’s not the point. What I wanna say is – again – is that, I love you, __. And I want to spend the rest of my lifetime with you. I wanna grow old with you. Spend every day and every night with you. I want us to wake up together every morning, make our breakfast together, go to work together, do laundry together, our taxes – man, I don’t know. Anything. I just want to do anything and everything with you. Maybe adopt a dog in the near future, if you want to, that is. You’re probably gonna be watching this in the theater by this moment – god I hope I don’t fuck the whole thing up, the gang is gonna be so pissed – but I’ll drop the question for you and I know we already talked about it many times before and two months ago you said you were ready if I was also ready. I couldn’t tell you I’ve been ready since the first week we started dating. But I hope… what you felt two months ago is still what you feel right now…” 

Then, the big screen fades to black, and suddenly, a few lights in the hall flicker on, illuminating Jungkook—now on his knees. In his hand is a red velvet box, now open, revealing a stunning ring that’s so beautiful it leaves your jaw slack.

He clears his throat. “__, you’re my best friend. Have been and always will be. You’re my home, my partner. I will love you for as long as you let me and–” Jungkook doesn’t mean it but there’s suddenly a lump in his throat that forms along the way and he has to choke it back, making his voice crack a little bit as he looks into your eyes. “– and I really want to live all my remaining years with you and be yours forever.” He bites his lip, looks up at you with those doe eyes you love so much. Then, the question comes, “Can I be your husband?” 

“Jungkook…” You look down at him, your mouth opening and closing, lost for words. You’ve passed the point of holding back tears, and when your eyes meet his—so full of sincerity and revere—you completely break. “Y-yes. Yes! One hundred percent yes,” you manage to say through your sobs, nodding fervently as your vision blurs from the tears streaming down your face.

As soon as you say that, all the lights in the room turn on and there’s a holler from the direction of the projection room that you can’t help but look at. 

“Congrats!” 

You gasp as you see Doyeon and Nayeon. They’re both waving at you with huge grins on their faces. Genuinely surprised and confused at the same time, you start to look around, and suddenly, you realize that everybody is literally… your family. Taehyung, your dad, your mom, your sister and Seokjin all occupy the front rows, and in front of them are Jungkook’s own family as well. From afar, you see Jungkook’s father coming up to give your dad a hug which he reciprocates as they laugh together. 

Your eyes are drawn back to Jungkook. 

“Jungkook… they’re all here,” you say, struggling to hold back the onslaught of tears. They won’t stop.

And at this point, Jungkook can’t help it. Not anymore. He sees you crying and he can’t help but do it as well. He sniffs, taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

“Yes, baby. Everybody is here.”

“Baby, why are you crying?” You ask him despite yourself.

Jungkook chuckles in between his tears, swiping a hand on his eyes. “I’m just so happy. You make me so happy. Thank you. Thank you for saying yes.”

That makes you cry even more, earning another laugh from Jungkook but it’s filled with endearment. Slowly, he takes your hand and you watch teary-eyed as he finally inserts the ring around your ring finger. 

The diamond-encrusted band, with a larger diamond glimmering in the center, fits perfectly around your finger. You stare at it in awe, admiring how gorgeous it looks—trying to recall a time when Jungkook measured your finger to make it fit so flawlessly. But you can't remember, and you don't mind at all, instead looking up at him as he stands to his feet.

"I love you, Jungkook. I really do," you say with all the sincerity in your heart, hoping he knows as much.

"I can't wait to marry you," he replies, his voice full of emotion before he pulls you into his arms and leans down to kiss you gently on the lips. It’s soft and it’s sweet just like the love he’s given you all these years.

A cheer erupts around you, and normally, you'd feel shy about kissing in front of your family. But this time, you don’t feel embarrassed at all.

It’s just you and Jungkook. Bound for a lifetime of unadulterated love.

[oc-brainstorms]

My strange addiction 18+

Perv!Dom!Voyeur!Kang Dae-ho x Sex addict!Fem!reader/Thanos x Reader(kinda)

This is part 1, part 2 is here!

Synopsis: SMUT! Sex addict reader finds Dae-ho jerking off to her and Thanos having sex, she makes it her mission to try him out next and Dae-ho treats her exactly how she wants to be treated wink wink

warnings: Kinda dark/swearing/mentions of death/murder/ kinda cheating?/Mentions god(in a bad way)/Voyeurism/bathroom sex/public sex/mentions of anal/smut/reader uses thanos/Dae-ho is kinda pervy/rough/non-con?dub-con?ish/unprotected sex/p in v/Oral (M receiving)/daddy kink/reader is a sex addict/horny af/reader is fucking feral/overall filth/aftercare/angst/fluff/reader has some major issues (I haven't slept so if I've forgotten anything let me know) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Words: 4.5K (it’s a long one)/

Unedited! there's gotta be a few mistakes in it but I wrote this instead of my dissertation and sleeping so take it for what it is I guess.

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I was never one to drink, do drugs or jump off tall things all for a little adrenaline rush-No, I was particular in my chosen addiction. Sex was always my vice. I tasted it one and couldn't get enough. It’s never really mattered to me what they look like or how good at it they were, if the thought pops into my head then it’s all I crave, like an itch that demands to be scratched. Sometimes I don’t even want it, like when a smoker who's trying to quit doesn't even think about lighting the cigarette in their mouth, it's basically a habbit.

Many interactions with vile, disgusting men and bad life choices led me right here, surrounded by people in green sweatsuits playing deadly children’s games for money. It’s not exactly where I thought I'd end up, I always thought I’d die in a ditch somewhere-discarded and used without a care in the world.

Salty sweat drops fall on my forehead from the purple-haired man thrusting to his hearts content in an out of me, grunting in my ear like he's on a mission. He’s not bad, a little too desperate and loud for my liking but hey, a fuck is a fuck. Plus he was pretty good-looking under the whole wannabe-bad-boy-rapper persona.

“You like that? hmph-So good-so so good.” He grumbles, his voice mere groans of hot breath in my ear.

“Feels so good daddy-please keep going please!” My voice was no higher than a pathetic whisper in return, becoming conscious of the creaks the bed was emitting, echoing in the empty space of the room. Thankfully many people this side had died in the previous game.

My hips were beginning to ache from the angle I’m spread to- My jaw clenching as I feel him wrap his hands behind my knees and shove them up until they hit my shoulders. The pain was easing from my hips but it did nothing for the lack of excitement I was feeling. It was a little mundane for me, stuck in missionary while he has the time of his life-but it will satisfy my needs nonetheless.

I can’t help but let my thoughts wander, craning my neck to glance over his shoulder as his pounding continued, just listening the the sounds of our skin slapping and the weak sounds of the bed frame holding us up.

My attention is suddenly drawn to a rusting from a bed on the other side of the room. Under the glow of the obnoxiously large piggy bank I can just make out a large figure, laid in bed with the covers just covering his hip. Squinting into the darkness I make out rapid movements under the covers.

Is this perv getting off to us?

I let my eyes linger for a while, feeling myself getting wetter from the idea of this stranger pleasuring himself to the sounds of us fucking. Trailing my eyes up I can just about make out his number, 388. Taking a mental note, I try to peak at his face through the darkness.

A gasp gets caught in my throat as I make eye contact with dark eyes that stare back at me. His whole face wasn't clear but I could sense his eyes burning into mine as he welcomed himself to the free porn he was witnessing.

‘So fucking wet for me.’ Thanos panted out, snapping me back to his attention. Thankfully his head was buried in my neck and he was too busy chasing his own high to notice my distraction.

Maybe I should give him a show.

I took my hands and placed them firmly on Thanos’ chest.

“Stop.” I manage to gasp out, pushing him back enough to look at his face. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are crazy, Purple strands sticking to his forehead. His thrusts stagger a little before coming to a stop.

“What the fuck is wrong girl, why are you stopping me when I'm about to fill you up?” The tone of his voice is slightly erratic, and a little too loud-but I had new priorities than everyone else's sleep.

“I just wanna ride you Daddy, please?” Fluttering my eyelashes up at him, I knew he couldn't disagree with me, especially as I clenched myself around him.

“Fuck okay-okay.” He talks over himself, gripping at my sides to manoeuvre me on top of him.

I knock my head on the metallic grate on underneath the bunk on top of us, but don’t even stop to acknowledge the pain, I've got a new task to complete. I can’t let poor 388 go to bed unsatisfied now can I?

I reposition myself straddling him, letting my hands rest on his chest while he sinks his dick into my hole. I’m already pretty raw so it stings from the stretch, feeling him throb inside me from the sensation, a small gasp erupts from my throat.

Rocking my hips back and forth, I feel him glide in and out of me, making sure to arch my back and stick my ass out to give the best possible view to my new friend.

“Just like tha-fuck just like that.” he mutters through staggered breaths. I can feel him getting close so I need to do my best with the time I have.

In a brave move, I move my hands up from his chest and glide them up my body, stopping to grip onto my breasts and squeeze, Hard. I moan louder than necessary, but not loud enough to cause a scene.

Bouncing hard on his dick, I bring my hand to my throat and start to lightly choke myself, throwing my head back and feel my hair hit my back.

“Fuck this pussy, oh god, oh my fucking god-so good, so tight oh fuck.” I hear him groan, reaching his climax as hot spurts of cum squirt inside of me, filling me up.

I lean forward, laying my chest back down and craning my neck to glance over my shoulder. I watch how 388’s covers slowly come to a halt, a subtle shake as he finally finishes. I wish I could hear him trying to catch his breath over the snoring of the rest of the room, but ill sleep happy with the knowledge I've done my job-for now.

“You finished right, girl?” My attention is drawn back to the heavy breathing of the purple haired asshole under me, his hands still feeling up my hips and ass as I catch my breath.

“Yeah sure.” I nod, through gritted teeth, slipping him out of me and laying beside him.

“Good, gotta take care of my girl, especially when she’s being so damn good for me!” He ruffles my hair before turning over, falling asleep almost instantly.

God he has so much faith in me not to kill him in his sleep.

My mind didn't relax enough to sleep, too focused on all the ideas I had to get my way, I will seduce this man, I don’t even care if he’s ugly or horrible. Anyone that desperate to cum clearly needs my help, maybe he’ll actually make me cum.

My lord isn’t it bad I'm more focused on this than the games? well I guess it is a game of sorts… wtf is wrong with me, anyways.

I roll my eyes and try to push my thoughts away. Ignoring the sweaty body next to me, I pull my crumped clothes back onto my body and lay back down, fading off to a dreamless sleep.

----

The most irritating and mind-numbing sickly song wakes me up in the morning. That along with the bright lights is enough to make me kill someone-even outside of the game.

I’ve never been a morning person, nighttime is where all the fun happens-hell I don't even wake up till gone 2pm most days. However, this morning I have a task-find this mystery man.

I sit up in bed-taking no notice of the absence of the man next to me, and try to brush my fingers through my knotted hair, pinching my cheeks and lips to look more alive.

God did they have to give us these ugly ass outfits.

Doing the best with what I have, I tie up the top into an extreme crop and pull the joggers down lower on my hip, lazily throwing the sweatshirt on.

It'll do.

I scan my eyes around the room like a predator hunting its prey, reading everyone’s number until my eyes land on the one I'm looking for.

Bingo.

He’s tall, good looking-man bun be damned, chuckling along with something an older man is saying and a-is that bitch pregnant? Damn. He stretches, his muscles flexing as he does, almost having me salivate on myself. He doesn't even glance over here before waltzing over to to the breakfast queue.

My footsteps are fast but inconspicuous, anyone else probably would’ve thought I was just hungry- and I guess they'd be right, but not for food.

I manage to squeeze in behind him, shuffling my feet closer to his.

“You’re pretty cute for a perv.” His shoulders stiffened, glancing at me over his shoulder.

‘What?” He mutters back to me, his eyes raking over my body before returning his eyes forward.

“I thought guys who liked to watch people fuck without them knowing were balding and lived in their parents basement with food stuck to their face and a box of tissues next to them.” Ok, that was a weird thing to say- but am I wrong?

His breathing takes a sharp incline as he shuffles forward with everyone else in the line.

“I wasn't watching you.”

“It’s okay baby I'm not mad a you, was I good for you?” my voice is confident but low, closer to his ear than before because of the people joining the queue behind me. Not sure if he's really as in to public humiliation as he is into public masturbation.

“I'm sorry, okay?” he whispers, without glancing back. More of a whimper really, slut.

“I just told you I'm not mad.” Im more short in my answers-im starting to get bored from this restrictive situation. I do get bored easily.

My lips almost touch his ear as I lean in, playing dangerous.

“Should've let me know you needed it daddy, this pussy has your name all over it.” I stroke over his back as I come down, tits grazing his back.

He chuckled darkly, looking down at his shoes, before turning his body to to me, a slick smirk playing on his mouth as he leant down and met my eyes.

“Really? Because to me it looks like it has that guy’s cum all over it.”

He blinked, before turning back and continuing to follow the queue.

I don’t have an answer for that, he really got me there to be fair.

My lips form a sharp line and I feel a heat rush to my cheeks, I kept my eyes down and stayed silent. I didn't know I could still feel embarrassed by anything-but here we are. I also tried to ignore the wetness growing between my thighs at the situation, the degrading really does it for me I guess.

He grabbed breakfast from the guard before sauntering off, out of the corner of my eye I saw him silently giggling to himself as he walked away, asshole.

I picked up my pathetic little apple and grumbled, taking a harsh bite out of it. If he's playing hard to get then I guess I'm just gonna have to play harder.

----

After the games, the vibes really sucked. Thanos was loud and annoying as usual but at least he didn't let me die. That was kinda nice of him, or maybe it was the fact I promised him anal if he got me through it-but nevertheless, it good to be alive.

I spent a long time in the bathroom, making sure I looked perfect after that mess. I also scrubbed myself raw, feeling dirty after the game, and the fuck and especially after 388’s comment. The 5 minute shower I somehow convinced the guard to let me have did wonders. He did watch me the entire time-but at least I'm clean!

After we once again got voted to stay, I got bored of the repetitive conversation and laid on my bed, staring at nothing in particular.

I glanced down over my feet at the door to the bathrooms, taking notice of the tall pretty boy leaving.

I didn't think twice about it, my feet moving on their own. I had to have it out with this man- he acts like a disgusting pervert watching me fuck and suddenly he's all cocky? I don't think so.

Thankfully the guards really don't give a fuck about who goes into what bathroom. I stand outside waiting, watching for the door to open. I didn't want to enter the bathroom and catch him pooping- I may be deranged but I'm not a total freak.

He wasn't in there long, and nobody had come in or out since him. Hearing footsteps approaching the door I give a quick wink to one of the guards, Showtime.

He barely opened the door before I pushed him back inside, closing us in the empty bathroom.

“Woah.” He managed, jumping on the defence and getting ready to attack before his eyes locked on me.

“Oh its you.” he relaxed, sighing.

“You miss me?” I asked sweetly, leaning back against the door with my hand resting on the metal handle.

“It's hard to miss you when you keep showing up,” his hands moved to his hips and his face bore an amused smirk, playful.

“You upset me earlier, thought you'd wanna make it up to me.”

“By telling you the truth? if that upsets you darling then you put have a real hard time with everything else in here.”

“Listen, you-”

“No you listen,” He steps towards me, a strange dominance lurking under his voice.

“I have enough going on here without some needly little whore deciding she's important enough to start bratting out because I used her pathetic show of attention-seeking to get myself off.”

My breathing increases as he steps closer, I was not expecting that to come out of his mouth, I’m not often too stunned to speak but somehow he's done it in the two conversations I've had with him.

I stare up at him through my lashes, my mouth dropping open a little as I pant through it. God is this turning me on?

“You gonna do something about it, tough guy?” Is all I manage to conjure, coming out in a stupidly quiet voice.

“Since you seem so desperate for me I'll do you a favour and put that dirty little mouth to use shall I?” He suddenly reaches forwards and grips my hair in his hand, a sound between a moan and a sob exiting my mouth as he does.

He shoves me across the room and into a stall, pushing us both in before slamming and locking it shut behind us. His grip stayed strong in my hair.

I don't know what I thought this guy would be like, I thought he would be a sweet little perv who helps pregnant girls and laughs along with old men’s jokes and then rubs one out while watching two people fuck like animals.

“Kneel.” He demands, his grip one my hair beginning to give me a headache. I don’t move, sure I've had men be rough before but this really took me by surprise.

“You want me don't you?” He spits out, but something in his eyes seemed softer, like a shimmer of guilt washed over them.

“Yes sir.”

“Then be a good girl and show me how much you want it, down on your knees.”

My knees buckled by themselves, gripping his thigh for support I hit the dirty bathroom floor and looked up at him with wide eyes.

“You know what to do slut, I'm sure you've had enough practice.” His eyes were back to being hard now, whether it was all the emotions during the games or something else had hardened him, and he desperately needed release, and Im more than happy to help with that.

I bring my hands up to his waistband, dragging down the green joggers and his boxers down together, watching as his hard cock flung free.

“Spit on it.”

I swirled my tongue around my mouth and tried to muster all the saliva I could, bringing my lips to the tip of his dick and letting my spit slowly drip onto it.

His eyes glaze over and he leans his head back, a groan slipping through his lips.

Taking my chance, I grab his throbbing cock with my hand and slowly pump my spit all over his shaft.

“I-is that good daddy?” I manage to stutter out, hand moving up and down as I slowly trail my tongue up his tip, tasting the pre cum that's already leaking out.

What the fuck is wrong with you, get your shit together.

“You know that's good slut, you're just begging for my validation aren't you?” He chuckled again, that deep chuckle he keeps doing that sounds like he's just been told a dirty joke, amused but interested.

I ignored the degrading tone and looked back down to his cock, its big and throbbing-a lot bigger than what I'm used to, or at least than what I've had in a long time.

Nervousness seeps into my brain but I push it back, taking him into my mouth and guiding him to the back of my throat.

As my nose hits his clothe stomach, my head is whipped back by his grip on my hair, a sudden flash of pain strikes my cheek and I feel tears welling up in my eyes from the sting.

“I asked you a question slut, or are you too stupid to use your words?” The look in his eyes flashed with amusement, like he was speaking to a cute puppy who just learnt a new trick.

“Yes sir.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir, I want your validation.” It hurt to spit the words out, but as soon as I did my head was thrusted back onto him.

He doesn't speak for a while, just grunting softly and leaning his head back against the cubicle wall with his eyes shut, fucking his dick right to the back of my throat like I'm nothing but a fleshlight he's using. All I can do is stifle my gags and take him, my face wet with my tears and the saliva dripping down my chin.

“So.Fucking.Good.” He chokes out between thrusts.

My mind goes black with everything else other than pleasing him, nothing but the pain in my throat and the blurry vision of his body above me.

His breathing quickens and I'm sure he's about to cum, my hair now fully being ripped out by the strength of his hands tangled in it.

“What should I do?”

I look up at him and try to muster up the most confused face I can under the circumstances, managing to furrow my eyebrows.

“Should I cum…down your throat?” His thrusts begin to slow slightly as he drags out his question.

“Or on this pretty little face?” His finger drops down and traces my jaw.

“Or should I have you lift up your shirt so I can cum on those perfect tits of yours, baby?” His questions receive no answer considering my mouth was still bing invaded by his thick cock.

“No, No, I know the perfect place.” His voice is dominant and looms over me.

With a swift movement he pulls me off of him, one arm under my armpit while the other stays in its place in my hair. They glide down to my own joggers, ripping them down to the floor along with my underwear, leaving me exposed and shaking from all the sensations of my body.

His large hands find my thighs and grips onto the backs of them.

“Jump.” He orders, and of course I follow through. Before I know it I’m pinned up against the cold wall, and being forced to bounce on his solid dick that's thrusting in and out of me at a rapid pace.

My arms find his shoulders and I cling on, hiding my whimpers in the Crook of his neck as I let him use my cunt for his pleasure.

“You want me to make you cum don't you doll?” He teases.

“Ye-Yes s-sir, please sir, yes, yes, yes!” I hate how the pathetic yelps come out of my mouth but the pleasure rocking through me takes my mind away from any embarrassment.

“That other little boy couldn't do it for you could he? You need a man to make you cum don't you huh?”

“Please make me cum Daddy, I'll do anything.” my voice sounded more like broken sobs coming through my lazily parted lips, already cock drunk from this humiliating situation.

He grips my wrist tightly and drags it between my legs.

“Rub yourself, c’mon princess I know you can do it,” His sweet words hit my ears and I immediately obey, becoming a gasping, moaning mess as I rub rapid circles around my sensitive clit.

Almost immediately after I feel myself reaching my climax, my head throwing itself back as he lunges for my throat, leaving sharp hickeys down my neck.

His breathing changes and soon after he's open-mouthed kissing my neck as I feel him pump his cum up into me, the grip he has on me weakening with every moan he produces.

As he lets go of the hold he has on me I drop to the floor, knees weak after the use he put them through. Im tired, and sore and sticky, I can feel him dripping out of me and onto the disgusting toilet floor. My eyes are heavy and my face flushed, with chapped lips and baby hairs sticking with sweat to my forehead and a tangled mess behind.

As the glow of my orgasm fades I get the same sinking feeling I always get when I finish, the feeling where Im immediately disgusted and ashamed and just want to cry and try and forget that I've just made a fool out of myself for a strange man.

I bring my hands to my face and sigh deeply, still trying to catch my breath. I forget the man*-whose name I still don't know* is there. Im sure he’ll see himself out eventually.

My unravelling show of self-pity is interrupted as I feel the man crouch down next to me, silently watching me cry into my hands.

Awkward, I bet he's regretting even meeting me now.

“Hey,hey.” He coos, his voice softer than soft. He seems afraid to touch me as his fingers ghost over my arm.

I bet he's so fucking irritated god I would be.

Imagine you've just fucked someone out of pity and they start crying on the fucking floor.

“I’m just gonna clean you up okay angel?” I sniffle and stop in confused awe. Moving my hands away from my face I wipe the tears off and pull them down until my eyes are peaking through.

He keeps eye contact for a moment before reaching over and grabbing toilet paper from behind him, ripping some off he starts to clean up the mess between my legs, uttering small apologies as I hiss from the contact.

“Shh..it's okay baby, you're okay.” His words are soft and comforting as he manoeuvres my clothes back on me. His hands stop at my waist as he tries to catch my eyes, but I'm looking everywhere but his face with my half-lidded gaze.

“Can I see that pretty face again? Please baby, let me clean you up.” I nod, eyebrows still subtly furrowed in suspicion.

With the softest touch he moves my hands away from my face, taking them in one of his and using the other to gently wipe off any moisture that remained. His touch felt like a feather grazing my skin, it was nice, I've never been treated so nicely before.

He fucking hates me doesn't he, oh well what do I care, I don't care anyways.

He places a hand on my knee, not in a way that's sexual but more of a calming gesture, probably to help stop the shaking by body has absentmindedly started doing.

Everything inside me is telling me to run, push him away and go find my bed to rock myself to sleep in, but something about the kind care in his eyes and the gentle touches he's gracing me with is making me want to stay here for as long as I can.

His other hand comes up to my hair, his fingers attempting to gently remove the knots that had built up from his harsh tugs.

‘Did I hurt you, go too far?”

I shook my head.

“Why are you doing this?” I broke my silence, voice barely audible.

“Doing what, sweetness?” He glanced down at my face, his voice soft and caring with a glance of concern.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” The words left my lips with a short chuckle, not an amused, joking chuckle, but more of disbelief and confusion-like when you hear something so ridiculous you can't help but let a chuckle slip out.

I sound so fucking pathetic.

“I’m taking care of you, you deserve it.” His confusion grew, his eyebrows getting more furrowed together the more he took in the disbelief on my face.

“You don't even know me, I don't even know your name, you don't know mine.”

“I would like to.” I stopped, staring blankly at him.

“My name Is Y/N.” I mustered up, I'm sure he doesn't really care-but it would be nice to be on a first name basis with this man, at least he's being helpful.

“Beautiful name, it suits you.” He spoke without moving his head away from the focus he had on my hair.

“What's your name?”

“Dae-Ho” His fingers freed themselves and he leant forwards, placing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Thank you.”

“What for?” he whispered against the skin of my forehead, the coolness of his breath causing a shiver to sneak down my spine.

“For telling me your name.”

Thank you for being nice, for holding me softly, for being so sweet and kind and affectionate to someone you don't care about.

“Angel I will tell you every single thing I know if it makes you happy.” My breath hitched and all wordings fell short in my throat. His eyes were light and kind, he didn't seem at all to mind easing me through this mini meltdown.

“Why?”

“I told you, i’d like to get to know you.’ He paused, his mind seemingly somewhere else, thinking deeply about his next words.

“Would you like to sleep in my bed with me tonight? i’d like to be able to hold you now, it feels wrong to part ways after this, unless you have plans with the crayon you were sleeping with before.” The sarcasm in his voice seeps through when he speaks about Thanos, a subtle spit of jealousy perhaps mixed in with his words.

Interesting development.

---------------------

A/N: Lit havent slept and wrote this with no editing so if its ass lmk lol- also my first piece of writing on tumblr! exciting times-many ideas ahead.

[pedroscurls]

Absolutely no obligation to answer if you aren't taking requests, but could I ask for Hugh x reader? Like Blake and Ryan trying hard to play wingman for them both at an event, only to find out the two have been quietly together/hooking up for a few weeks? Whether it be angsty or fluffy is your choice! 🙂

our little secret (one-shot)

summary: ryan and blake try to set you and hugh up, but little do they know, you've already been secretly seeing each other. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni) - unprotected p in v (creampie oops, be safe folks), fingering, oral - f receiving, hugh bends you over 🙂‍↕️, no use of y/n. word count: 2.7k a/n: i'm catching up to all the requests that have been sitting in my askbox, so thank you for waiting on this! i know you said it could be angsty or fluffy, but it actually instead became smutty lmao. i had a lot of fun writing this lol - love the sneaking around and eventually getting caught trope 🤭 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

The entire night, you and Hugh steal glances from across the room. Either he’s with Ryan or some other group of people that he’s talking to and you’re either with Blake or on the dance floor dancing with her. You can feel the pull you have towards Hugh, yearning to be pulled into his arms but you have to refrain. You have to resist.

No one knows that you’re seeing each other, that you’ve been secretly having a very intimate relationship with him. Neither of you are ready for everyone else to know, so you try to keep your distance. Try not to make it so obvious that you just want him.

“I think you and Hugh should go talk,” Blake grins, nudging you with her arm.

You shrug nonchalantly, doing your best to look uninterested. “I don’t know, Blake.”

“Just one conversation,” she says. “You never know what can happen.”

Oh, you know exactly what would happen. If you and Hugh get a chance to speak tonight, you know that you wouldn’t be able to hide this secret any longer. Especially since the entire time so far, you’ve been trying to think of ways to sneak away from Blake and see Hugh. It’s such a busy event, such a huge party that even if you did try to sneak away with Hugh, someone would see the both of you.

And neither of you need that right now.

“If we somehow get to talking, then sure. Right now, I’m just focused on me.”

Blake narrows her eyes. “I can bring him over here and–”

“Blake,” you interrupt. “Seriously, I’m okay.”

Blake sighs. “Fine, okay. But if he comes up to you on his own, you’ll at least talk to him?”

“Sure. Would be rude of me to just leave if he tries to have a conversation with me,” you point out.

“Ryan and I just think you’d be so good together,” she replies.

“You think I’d be good with anyone,” you laugh.

“That’s because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Aw, Blake… It’s a bit early for all these compliments, don’t you think?” you tease.

Blake rolls her eyes. “You’re right. I usually need a couple of more drinks before I get to that point.”

“Okay, ha ha. Can we go back out there and dance?”

“Yes, baby, let’s go.” She takes your hand and leads you to the dancefloor, glancing over her shoulder to see Ryan and Hugh staring at the both of you.

—

“So…” Ryan smirks, watching the way Hugh’s eyes linger on your frame. “You obviously think she’s–”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling his eyes away from you. When Hugh saw you for the first time that night, he had realized just how difficult it would be to keep things a secret. You look so beautiful, the dress clinging to every curve, and he wanted nothing more than to just take you away from this party so that he could have you to himself.

But Hugh tries to remember the conversation you had with him. This has to be a secret for a little while longer, just to see if this is more than just physical attraction. Hugh agreed, but the more time he spent with you, the more he wanted to get to know you. The sex was amazing, but the conversations you had with each other afterwards were just as great.

“Oh come on!” Ryan chuckles. “You should at least talk to her.”

“Not interested,” Hugh lies. “Besides, I already talked to her at your dinner party. She’s nice, sweet, but that’s all it is.”

Ryan arches a brow. “Seemed like you two hit it off that night.”

“Just being polite,” Hugh replies.

“Well, I think you should go and talk to her. See what can happen.”

“Ryan, no.” His eyes deviate to you and he tries to keep his eyes above your shoulder, but he can’t help but let his eyes take in your frame, your hips swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the song. Clearing his throat, Hugh shakes his head and instead turns his back to the dancefloor.

“Let me be your wingman, Hugh,” he says excitedly. “All we gotta do is walk over there, dance a bit, and then–”

“I’m gonna get some fresh air.” Hugh interjects with a sigh. He knows if he stands here another minute that he’s going to break and he’s going to give in to Ryan because he wants you so badly. Even as he’s walking away from Ryan, he turns to look over his shoulder to see your eyes glued onto him. He gives you a subtle nod and steps outside, glancing around to see that no one but him is there.

With a sigh, he runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. Hugh likes you a lot and he’s become tired of keeping this, keeping you a secret. His mind begins to drift when he feels a gentle hand on his back and he turns to look down at you, a smile immediately lining his lips.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say quietly.

Even under the moonlight, you look so beautiful. Hugh reaches out for your hand, yearning to pull you into him and give you a kiss. “You’re really killing me with that dress you got on.”

“You like?” you smile, twirling in front of him.

“Oh, I love it,” Hugh winks. “Would look better if it was on the floor.”

“Oh, you’re naughty tonight.” you let out a quiet giggle. “What would you do if I told you I wasn’t wearing any panties?”

Hugh’s eyes widen and his gaze darkens. “Are you?”

You shake your head slowly. “Nope.”

“And you’re calling me the naughty one,” Hugh whispers, taking a step closer to you as his other hand moves to your hip, bunching up your dress in a tight fist. “Ryan’s been trying to get me to talk to you.”

“Oh?” you ask quietly, hand moving up to rest on his chest. “Blake’s been doing the same. I think they’re trying to play matchmaker.”

“They don’t know we’ve been seeing each other for the last few weeks,” Hugh chuckles, eyes drifting to your lips. “But seeing you tonight… It’s been really difficult to keep this a secret.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I see how the other women are looking at you tonight and I can’t blame them.”

“Not looking at them though.”

“But if you want to, you know you can… We aren’t really exclusive and–”

“I want to be,” Hugh interrupts. “I know we’re still testing out the waters, seeing if this is only physical, but I like you.”

“You know, I didn’t expect to have this conversation tonight…” you say quietly.

“Am I misreading this?” Hugh sighs, pulling away from you but you pull him back to you.

“No, I like you too. I just didn’t–” you bite your lower lip. “I just didn’t want to scare you away if I told you that I want this. That I want you. Only you.”

Hugh tries to hide the smile from appearing on his lips. He looks into your eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“I do…”

Hugh then steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Good because I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your hand moves up to gently grip the lapel of his jacket. “Please,” you whisper. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night and–”

Hugh leans down and presses his lips against yours, hand gripping your hip. He wastes no time in moving his lips with yours, hand slowly dipping lower and lower to your backside. You gasp against his lips, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.

“Mmm, not yet,” you whisper, pulling away slowly.

Hugh’s about to lean in to give you another kiss when you both hear Blake and Ryan’s voices.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryan quips, finger pointing in your direction.

“And here we were, trying to get you two together!” Blake laughs.

You lean against Hugh whose arm still remains wrapped around you. “Surprise?”

Blake rolls her eyes playfully and walks up to you, pulling you into a hug. “Surprise indeed.”

Ryan grins, clapping a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “So, how long?”

“Since the night of your dinner party,” Hugh chuckles.

“You fucker,” Ryan laughs.

“We wanted to keep it a secret,” you say quietly, reaching out for Hugh’s hand. “But–”

“I like her a lot,” Hugh interrupts, lacing his hand with yours. “Didn’t want to hide this anymore.”

“We’re so happy for the both of you,” Blake smiles.

“Thanks, Blake.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, I owe my girl a dance,” Hugh winks. He leads you back inside of the party and wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

Blake and Ryan join the both of you and once on the dance floor, Hugh turns you around in his arms, hands moving to rest on your hips as your bodies begin to sway to the music. It’s dark and the music is blaring, but your sole focus is on Hugh who’s staring directly back at you.

He runs his hands along your sides and back down to your hips, bringing you flush against his front as you feel the length of manhood hardening beneath his pants. You bite your lower lip, arms coming up to snake around his shoulders and link at the base of his neck.

Hugh dips his head lower, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. He moves a hand to your lower back as the crowd of people surrounding the both of you fades into the background. He gently nips at your lower lip, hearing you quietly whimper. His lips move from your own to your jawline, coming up to gently nibble on your ear as he whispers huskily.

“I need you bad, baby.”

“But the party–”

“How about we leave early?” Hugh runs his hand up your back and down to rest above your backside.

“What about Blake and Ryan?”

Hugh looks over at the other couple who look to be in their own little world and he chuckles, turning his attention back to you. “I don’t think they’d mind one bit if we leave.”

You bite your lower lip and then nod, leaning up to peck his lips. “Take me home then, Hugh.”

“Yes,” he groans lowly. “I’ve been wanting to take you home the moment I saw you tonight. Let’s go.”

—

You don’t make it far once you and Hugh enter his place. He’s on you like a starved animal, hands running along your frame, lips lightly attacking your neck and shoulder. You can feel his length pressing into you from behind as he shrugs off his blazer.

“You make me crazy, baby,” Hugh growls, gently grazing the skin at your neck with his teeth. “Like a fucking teenager all over again.”

“Hugh, baby,” you whimper. “Wait, we should go upstairs and–”

“No,” he groans against you. “Right here.” Hugh bends you over the back of his large couch, immediately lifting the ends of your dress to your hips, giving him a clear view of your backside and your glistening slit. “You weren’t lying… no panties.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

Hugh glances up at you briefly before he drops to his knees in front of you. His large hands come up to spread your cheeks apart as he licks a strip along your sex, groaning against you.

“Hugh!” You exclaim, hand reaching back to curl into his hair.

“Mmm,” Hugh pulls back and looks at your sex, gaze darkening at the sight of you glistening for him. “Gonna have my taste now, baby.”

Before you could even answer, Hugh leans in and buries his face between your legs. He doesn’t bother to slow down, groaning against your sex as you feel his tongue in your most sensitive areas. You’re close, knowing that you aren’t going to last that long with the way Hugh’s going.

He pulls back momentarily, chin glistening with your arousal as he immediately slides two fingers into your tight heat. Hugh then leans back in and sucks your clit in time with pumping his fingers in and out of you and you’re so wet that the sounds mix in with your loud moans. It’s so lewd and obscene and it only spurs him on even further.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you feel your walls begin to tremble. When you feel a tightness begin to build in the pit of your stomach, you grip his hair even tighter, holding him firmly against you. Your eyes clamp shut as Hugh continues his assault on you, urging you through your orgasm.

Hugh then pulls back and stands up between your legs, his hands coming to undo his belt and zipper of his pants. His fingers are wet with your slick and he lifts to his mouth and sucks on it as his eyes stare directly at your throbbing heat.

Once he pulls his manhood out, he gives it a few strokes before notching his tip at your entrance. He feels you flinch at the sudden touch, smirking to himself.

“Hugh, wait. I need a minute.” You tell him, trying to turn around but Hugh keeps you firmly bent over the couch.

“Ah baby, you can handle it.” He grins, running his tip along the length of your sex, catching your hole repeatedly.

“Hugh,” you plead, reaching back for him but he just grabs your wrists and places them firmly against your lower back. With his free hand, he slowly slides into your tight heat, the slickness of your arousal immediately coating his length with each thrust forward.

He releases his hold on manhood and instead moves to place it on the couch, gripping it tightly. Hugh fills you to the brim, groaning to himself at the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him.

“See, told you,” he grins, pulling his hips back. Hugh pulls out to his tip, glancing down to see his length slick with your wetness. Then, he slowly slides back in and grips the couch even tighter, not wanting to leave any bruises on your wrists that remain firm in his grasp.

“Fuck!” You moan aloud. Your walls are already so sensitive and you know that you won’t last long with the way Hugh’s picking up his pace.

“God, you look good like this,” Hugh groans, thrusts moving faster as he repeatedly slams into you. You feel every inch, every throbbing vein and when he firmly slams into you, you move your ass back against him and feel the hair at his base provide the perfect friction against your clit.

He pulls back only enough to see you slide back into him, watching your ass shake and jiggle as you use him to reach yet another orgasm. Hugh knows that he’s getting closer, knows that he’s about to come but he tries to hold off because the sight of you using him like this for your own pleasure just turns him on even more.

“Baby,” Hugh groans. “I’m gonna come and I–”

“Inside,” you whimper.

Hugh feels a sudden rush overcome him at your confirmation and he releases his hold on your wrists to place both hands on your hips. He groans and begins to thrust back into you, his skin slapping loudly against yours as he chases his own release.

“Hugh, baby,” you moan, moving your own hands to rest over his as pleasure washes over you. Your body feels limp, feels like you can just fall asleep bent over this couch, but Hugh’s sharp thrusts work you through your own orgasm.

After a couple of thrusts, Hugh’s hips begin to stutter and you feel his warmth begin to fill you up. His grip on your hips tighten almost painfully as he empties himself into you, every last fucking drop.

When he pulls out, Hugh can’t help the sight of his release slowly begin to trickle out of you and down the inside of your leg. He smiles to himself, gently loosening his hold on you as he turns you around to face him.

“I don’t think I can walk upstairs,” you tease.

Hugh smirks proudly. “Good, because I don’t think I’m done with you yet, baby.”

—-

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