#I went on a first date today and both me and my date were like oh yeah I hadn’t been able to canvas for him yet but I plan to in the fall

[emeraldserenade]

Not So Fake Fake Boyfriend~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Joaquín needs a girlfriend for sister's wedding, you just happen to love weddings. Joaquín's crush on you has nothing to do with Sam bringing the option of you going up, not at all.

tw: fem!reader, fake boyfriend troupe, none?, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

I did forget to post this yesterday, so enjoy it today!!

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Joaquín needed a date to his sister's wedding, he was hopeful that he would have found a date by the time it came. But he didn't and he was desperate, and then you came along. You worked closely with both of them, being the social media manager for him and Sam. "Why not take y/n?" Sam suggested and you looked up from your desk.

"Take me where?" You questioned, a smile on your face.

"My sister's wedding, I said I had a date but I don't," Joaquín admitted and your eyes widened.

"Oh, well, ok!" You said, your smile still on your face.

"Really?" Joaquín asked.

"Yeah, I could be a great fake girlfriend," you said, moving to walk over to Joaquín. "Plus, I love weddings," you told him.

"You're saving my life, you don't even understand," Joaquín hugged you and you gave him a smile while you hugged him back.

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The flight to Miami was something, you were in the middle seat between Joaquín and a stranger. The stranger kept 'accidentally' putting his hand on your thigh and brushing it across your knee. You sighed a breath of relief when he got up for the bathroom. "Switch seats with me," Joaquín told you, you looked over at him.

"What?" You watched as he stood and let him pull you up.

"Switch seats with me," Joaquín repeated and even though you were confused, you did anyway.

"I heard what you said, I meant why?" You clarified as you sat down in the window seat.

"I don't like how he keeps touching you," Joaquín admitted, settling into the seat you previously occupied. You smiled at him and leaned your head on his shoulder, determined to get some sleep in now that you didn't have to worry about the other man touching you.

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You slept the rest of the flight and when you woke up, Joaquín was gently speaking to you. "Come on, it's time to get up," was the final piece to you waking up.

"That was entirely too slow and too fast," you stretched as you stood and took Joaquín's hand when he offered it.

"You did sleep for most of the flight," Joaquín joked.

"God forbid a girl's tired and you make her feel safe," you joked back, it was more or less of a joke and you both knew it. You could tell there were people staring at the two of you as you walked. Falcon and the social media manager walking hand-in-hand through an airport wasn't a new sight, but the lack of Captain America was. Normally the three of you held onto each other, you holding onto both, so you all stayed together.

You had a thought about how this was going to need to be remedied via the team's official account, but quickly stored it away as you let Joaquín lead you. You got your check bags and Joaquín started going over the predetermined story again.

"Quino!" You heard an older lady yell from farther away. Joaquín waved at her but kept walking to her with your hand in his. "You must be y/n!" She pulled you into a hug after she hugged Joaquín, you quickly figured out she was Joaquín's mom.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," you told her, letting her hug you as long as she wanted.

"Mamá you're squeezing her," Joaquín told her and you laughed as she started to scold him but let you go anyway.

The three of you went to the car and Joaquín sat in the backseat with you, even though he didn't have to. His mom cooed at the fact that he was being so gentlemanly to you. You just laughed and told her that it was her parenting that made him that way. You smiled at the flush on Joaquín's face at your words.

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Joaquín's family was super welcoming, you had gotten more hugs in the first few minutes of being there than you had in the past four months. You were ushered upstairs by Joaquín and the two of you collapsed onto his childhood bed. "Sorry about them, they're a lot, I know," Joaquín apologized.

"Baby, you're a lot," you joked, missing the flush and flash of love on Joaquín's face at the petname. "And you don't need to apologize for them, they're great," you told him, rolling over on your side to face him. You admired his side profile as you laid there, enjoying the way he looked in the afternoon light streaming through the windows.

"You're staring," Joaquín said, turning towards you with a smirk.

"Get used to it, baby. I'm going to be staring at you a lot these next few days," you told him, scooting closer to interlock your fingers with his.

"You know that we might have to kiss, right?"

"Mm," you hummed for a second. "That's ok," you told him and he raised his eyebrows at you. "Hey, you're attractive! Can't blame me for being ok with kissing you," you laughed, Joaquín laughed with you.

"Well, come here then," Joaquín said as he let go of your hand to pull you closer by your waist. You gasped gently as he pulled you across the bed until you were pressed to his front. Your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes.

There was no hesitation in the way you both leaned in and kissed. It was just a brush of lips but then Joaquín deepened it and you let him. You realized that you were making out with your crush while pressed firmly against him in his childhood bed, but it wasn't a big enough thought for you to stop. But you had to so you could breathe again, your breaths were more gasps. A knock on the door had both of you freezing but not pulling away.

"Joaquín, when you and your girlfriend are done with whatever is going on in there, both of you need to meet us downstairs for dinner. It'll be ready in about five minutes," you heard his sister, Liliana, said through the door. You both looked at each other with wide eyes before laughing as you heard her footsteps walk away.

"Are you ready to lie to your entire family?" You questioned as you both sat up.

"Not really, I hate lying to them," he told you and you smiled at him.

"Joaquín Torres, will you be my boyfriend?" You questioned and you saw a flash of emotions cross his face.

"What?"

"You hate lying, so would you be my boyfriend? That way we aren't lying, we can keep the same story, but this way we aren't lying about that," you explained.

"I would love to be your boyfriend, now and after this," Joaquín said and you kissed him.

"Good, and I hope you know I only agreed to do this because I think I'm in love with you Joaquín," you told him.

"I know I'm in love with you," Joaquín replied and you smiled so wide.

"Let's go face your family, love," you kissed him again as you two left the room hand-in-hand. The media post about you two can wait, you get to go spend time with your boyfriend and his family.

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Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[b3ach-bunn7]

that shinsou 3 pt fic was SO GOOD. you're GOATing so hard. begging sobbing and PLEADING for more shinsou nsfw 😣🧟

IN A GOOD WAY

You and Shinsou's mission is an easy one. Get into the building, package up the mysterious chemicals, and leave. Of course, knowing your luck, nothing goes the way it should.

NSFW warning, accidental aphrodisiac, slightttt dubcon since they're both drugged but they were gonna bone regardless A

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When you were assigned to go on a collection mission, you had no idea it would be this boring.

Thus the life of a hero. Not everyday can be filled with adrenaline-filled fights and putting away villains that wreak havoc on society. Some days, you have to pick up classified chemicals from a laboratory in the middle of nowhere. And it’s fine. Somebody had to do these things. It’s sort of exciting in a way. The abandoned rooms, the empty hallways. You’re trying to make the best of a bad situation. Shinsou, however, is not.

“Oh my god. It is so hot in here.” He groans.

Shinsou does not agree with your sentiment. Since the moment you’d both walked in, he’d been complaining, that low drawl echoing across the empty halls as he walks beside you. He’s got reason to complain, to be honest. It’s a beautiful, warm day outside, the sun shining and the sky a wonderful blue. And you’re both stuck in here. There’s nobody else in the whole building aside from the two of you.

“Take off some of those scarves then.” You say, peering through the little glass windows in the doors you pass by.

“If you want me to take my clothes off you can just ask.” He murmurs and you roll your eyes.

“Be professional, Mindjack.” You chide, but he only huffs.

“I told you to call me Shinsou.”

“And I told you that’s unprofessional.”

Shinsou sighs heavily. “You take everything too seriously.”

You laugh. One side of his long scarf trails behind him as he idly wraps the other end around his fingers. You always wonder how they feel. They always look so soft until they’re wrapped around a villain's throat.

“We’re on the job!” You exclaim, “I can’t call you Shinsou.”

“Sounds so pretty when you do, though.”

You don’t dignify that with a response, and instead speed up a little so he can’t see the blush forming on your face.

Shinsou is a shameless flirt. Which is a surprise, because upon first meeting, he seemed so quiet. You’d both started at the same agency, and for the most part you two had kept your distance from one another. Shinsou works in more undercover fields, and you tend to be on the front lines during missions, so you never had much overlap.

But then one day, you and Shinsou did have a mission together, and it was one of the best ones you’d ever been on. He wasn’t as shy as you’d thought. His humour was dry and sarcastic and funny, and he was also a very good hero on top of it all. You thought his quirk was amazing, despite his own qualms about it, and he was good at what he does.

And you saw each other around work more after that. And then he started all his flirty little comments, and things sort of just went up from there. 

It’s not like you have a crush or anything, It’s against the rules to date another hero in the same agency, anyway. You’ve checked. You just like Shinsou. And you think he's quite attractive. The big arms and soft lavender hair, that teasing smirk. What’s not to like?

You know why you guys were both assigned this job today. Mina loves to get involved in your love life, and seems to think a mission of all places will bring the two of you together. Wishful thinking, you say. 

The big case you’d been given to carry the chemicals is starting to get heavy. You shake it at Shinsou. “Hold this.”

Shinsou decidedly doesn't. “Say please.”

“Please hold this before I beat you over the head with it.” You smile sweetly.

“So polite. How could I say no?” He slips it out your hands, his fingers brushing against yours.

You clear your throat. You look at the file you’d both been sent, stopping outside a sleek white door. “Okay, so the stuff should be in this lab, and one on the upper floor.” You gesture ahead.

You pull out a keycard from your pocket. The door beeps, echoing in the empty halls, and you hold the door open for the two of you.

You’re not exactly sure what happened here. The place has been searched through, clearly, and there’s been enough destruction near the entrance to tell you there was a fight of some kind. The lab looks relatively untouched. It’s sort of split into two rooms, a main one with a few desks and shelves of books, and a smaller section inside. That part is blocked off by another door, and you assume, judging by the equipment you can see through the glass wall, is where your chemicals are going to be.

“It’s probably in there.” Shinsou hums, and you nod.

You start to make your way inside. He takes to searching around the desk, peeking through the files. The room has that smell all scientific rooms do. Sterile and like things you shouldn’t touch. You feel Shinsou’s presence behind you.

“It smells weird in here.” He muses.

“Right? We probably shouldn’t touch anything.” You say, gesturing towards the line of chemicals stacked in little glass bottles around the room. 

Shinsou nods. “What are we looking for again?”

You grab your phone to pull up the file. “Some stuff. It says it should be in a closed beaker. And it should be red, and glossy. Whatever the hell that means.”

“Like that?” He points to something you can’t see.

You walk to him, peering over his shoulder. And it does look pretty accurate to the description in the file. It looks a little shimmery, and like it’d taste like strawberries. You’re a little tempted to taste it, but you’re not that stupid.

“Oh, yeah.” You say. “It looks kinda delicious.”

Shinsou huffs a laugh. “I wouldn’t recommend drinking it.”

You pretend to mope as he starts opening the case. You fiddle with some empty glasses, when Shinsou suddenly exclaims. Your head turns quickly.

“What?” You gasp, and he holds out his hand. You peer a little closer.

And there is a spider on his hand.

You squeal, moving backwards. “Get that away!”

Shinsou laughs. He waves it in front of you. “Aw come on, it’s only little.”

It’s a little embarrassing. You’re a pro hero. You’ve fought terrifying people and suffered horrible injuries while doing so. But you are deathly afraid of spiders. Which, you might add, Shinsou knows. 

“Come on, put it away!” You squeal.

“This is psychology, Y/N-”

“Unprofessional, Mindjack.”

“It’s called flooding. It will help you break that phobia.” He teases.

He inches a step closer, and you rush back. “Mindjack-“

But, luck is not on your side, because as you move back you accidentally step on loose piece of paper. Your foot skids against the floor, and before he can catch you or you can catch yourself, you collide sharply into the desk behind you. The corner digs into your side, but you don’t have time to complain about the pain because your collision causes a few of the beakers on the desk to fall over, and roll onto the floor. Some beakers are empty, but the others are full of that soft red liquid you and Shinsou are supposed to be putting in the sturdy cases you’ve been given. Instead, said liquid is now spilt all over the floor, and the glass in pieces everywhere. 

It’s silent for only a second before the panic sets in.

“Shit.” You curse.

Shinsou grabs your hand, and you hop over the glass. He nods, eyes quickly scanning the situation.

“This is fine.” He decides.

“It is?”

“It is. We can- I’ll find something for us to clean this up.” He points to the table. “There’s still two more on the table, so we’ll package them up.”

You nod. “Okay. Do you-“

Your voice trails off as the panicked look on Shinsou’s face worsens. You follow his eyesight to the weird red stuff on the floor, and you both watch in horror as the liquid on the floor turns to mist, disappearing into the atmosphere. You’re too shocked to move, but Shinsou luckily isn’t. He grabs your hand, dragging you both away.

“Cover your face, don’t breathe in.” He urges.

You both rush out the little room and into the main area of the lab. Shinsou shuts the door behind you both, and you run a hand through your hair.

“What the hell was that?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“No idea. Did they say anything about what that stuff was?” He asks.

“It just said we should have no contact with it whatsoever.” You mumble.

You now wish you did a little more reading about what happened here. What if you grow another arm, or something? Kneel over and die because you inhaled some toxic chemicals.

You feel a little prickle of fear in your chest. “Do you think it’s dangerous? Are- Are we going to be okay?”

Your voice sounds a little weaker than you intended it, and Shinsou notices almost instantly. He reaches out, hand on your shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

His eyes are looking straight into yours, the prettiest shade of purple. And you don’t remember Shinsou’s hero costume looking this good on him. The tight black shirt that hugs his waist, revealing the shadow of the hard muscles of his stomach and chest. Those soft tufts of hair, and the scarf that’s wrapped around his neck. And you imagine him grabbing them, tying your hands together and-

Woah. 

You take a step back, hoping he can’t read the thoughts that are currently swimming through your head. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Yes, you have a little crush on him, but he’s never made you feel like this before. So hot and bothered. 

“Right.” You clear your throat. “We should. We should probably get masks before we keep going.”

Shinsou nods. You both start walking your way back to the entrance of the building. 

It’s getting really hot. Your fingers dip between the collar of your shirt to pull it back, trying to get some air, and find that you’re sweating. 

“God, it’s- Do you feel that heat at all?” You mumble. 

You glance at him, and find that he’s already looking at you, and his face is flushed red. So he probably does feel that heat. There’s a brief moment of eye contact between you, and you feel a coil of something in your stomach. You look away, trying not to focus on the emotions Shinsou is bringing out in you right now, and more on getting the fuck out of this place.

“I tried to tell you before, sweetheart.” He smiles weakly.

You think he’s trying to joke around, lighten the mood. But all you can focus on is the pet name that splits easily from his lips. He’s never called you that before. He seems just as surprised as you do, because he promptly shuts his mouth and looks away.

A heavy silence falls between the two of you. The only sounds are your footsteps on the floor, and your heavy breathing. You try to focus on staying calm, still nervous about whatever the hell you and him inhaled in there. Your skin is nearly itching with it, and you absentmindedly pick at the sleeve of your costume.

Sweetheart. You liked hearing anyone call you something so sweet, but from Shinsou’s mouth? Shinsou, whose lips always look so soft and plump. You think of his face flushed, and you mind moves before you can control it, to him towering over you, those deft hands holding you down as moves inside you-

You can’t help the whimper that leaves your mouth. Your hand braces yourself against the wall, and it’s then you realise how wet you are. That heat flares, spreading down and you realise it for the emotion it is, arousal, dark and dangerous. You’ve never felt like this before, this horny. 

And it’s like with the realisation that something’s wrong, the feeling settles on your skin, and your body throbs with the need to touch. To quell the voice in your head that screams for something to stop the sensation.

“Oh, fuck.” You whimper.

Your hand itches to reach lower, to soothe the ache in your core. And then you remember that you’re not alone.

Your head darts to Shinsou and he looks just as gone as you do. 

He’s standing opposite you, and he looks wretched, breath ragged, the flush dipping down past his collar and spreading across his face. Judging by the obvious dent in his pants, he’s just as aroused as you are right now. And instead of feeling humiliation at the fact you are openly ogling his crotch and he’s caught you doing it, you just feel wetter.

You stand straight and he steps away, back hitting the wall. 

“Shinsou-“

He groans, head falling back. “Don’t say my name like that.”

“I- Fuck, I need-“ 

“Don’t.” He practically growls. “We can’t.”

You take another step forward. “I can’t, Shinsou, I feel so hot. You need-“

He shakes his head, holding a hand up. But it doesn’t do much, because it only makes you imagine that hand and what else it could be doing.

“This is highly unprofessional.” But his voice is already wavering, his resolve weak.

“You’re always telling me to be less professional.“

Your hands slide up his chest, rest on his shoulders. You watch the bob of his throat as he swallows.

“I want you.”

“No, the weird chemicals we inhaled want me. You don’t.”

The hint of hurt in his eyes makes your heart clench and you shake your head furiously. “No. No, it’s not just that. I want you. Me.” You demand.

It’s quiet. Your hand grips his shoulder tighter and tighter, and you feel the threat of tears. “Please. I feel like I’m on fire.”

His hand cups your cheek, finally, and you lean into his touch, eyes slipping shut. You’re half a second away from grinding on his leg if he doesn’t do something.

“So needy.” He murmurs. “You sure you want this?”

You think you might throttle him if he asks you one more time. A voice in the back of your head, the one that’s still reasonable, thinks it’s sweet he’s making sure. But the feral part of you that’s about two seconds away from ripping both your clothes off, doesn’t love it.

“Yes. I don’t know how else you want me to say it. Yes, Shinsou, please-“ 

Finally, finally he’s kissing you. Kissing is putting it lightly. Shinsou is trying to devour you, his lips moving frantically against yours as he makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat. You haven’t kissed anyone in ages. Being a hero sort of means an infinite dry run, but Shinsou doesn’t seem to care, because he’s moving your face how he sees fit, licking into your mouth.

His legs slides between your own, and you make an embarrassing noise as he presses his knee into your heat, and you grind yourself down on him.

You can feel the smirk on his face as he kisses a path against your face, whispering in your ear. “Fuck, look at you. So needy.”

Your hands fumble with his clothes. There’s way too many zippers and buttons and your brows furrow, frustrated.

Shinsou grins at the look on your face. “I’ve never had someone so eager to undress me before.”

You don’t dignify him with a response. His hands start working at your costume, which is much easier to take off. One zip on the side and your skin’s almost cold as it exposes to the air, and your nipples poke through your bra. He fumbles with his own costume and your mouth almost waters at the sight of his chest, the delicious outline of his abs that you’ve ogled far too many times before.

His knee presses against you again, and you whine. “More, I need more.”

You’re sure you both look ridiculous right now. Your costume lays uselessly at your feet, his half off as he palms at your chest and you kiss at his neck. You’re in the middle of a random hallway in a building you’re supposed to be working in. This is not something you have ever even dreamed about doing. And you couldn’t care any less.

Shinsou grabs your wrist. “Come.”

He pulls you into the lab you were in before, pushing you against one of the tables. He lifts you with no effort, pushing your legs open. You’re so wet. It’s sticking to your thighs, soaked completely through your underwear. Your hand slips between your legs and rubs against the material. Your mouth drops open, but you can’t enjoy it for long because Shinsou is pulling your hands away.

“No.” Shinsou scolds. “Let me.”

“But-“

Shinsou drops to his knees, hoisting your leg over his shoulders. And he’s impatient, ripping your panties and tossing them over his shoulder, and licking a wide stripe over your cunt. Your head falls back at the feelings, your body almost falling limp in relief.

“Look at this pussy, baby.” He kisses the soft skin of your thigh, sucking marks into your flesh.

He looks up at you, eyes darting across your features. “Gonna get you ready for me, okay? Gotta taste this pretty pussy.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond, which is good, because the only thing coming out of your mouth is gasps and broken pleas for more. Shinsou presses open mouth kisses against your folds, tongue fast and skilled as he eats you out. It’s messy, and the sounds are so filthy, but it feels so good. One hand reaches up to squeeze your nipples, the other tangling in his hair to tug him closer. 

It takes little to nothing for you to get close, your heels pressing into his back as his tongue flicks against your clit. All it takes is the press of his finger into your folds, longer and thicker than yours, for you to tighten your thighs around his head.

“Oh, fuck.” You moan. “Shinsou, I’m gonna cum.”

His second finger slips in easily, and he thrust them in and out. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up?” He teases.

Your nerves are alight, and you almost sob. “Please, Shinsou, please. Need you.” 

You feel no embarrassment at your begging. You feel like you’re going to die if you don’t come now. Shinsou only nods, the stubble on his chin grazing your legs as he hits that sweet spot inside you, sucking your clit into his mouth. And you come, thighs clenching around his head. He doesn’t let go, works you through it, his hand snaking down to palm at his clothed cock.

It registers very faintly that the heat in your body has only barely lessened, and you whine for more. Luckily, Shinsou doesn’t give you a break. He clambers to his feet and in one swift motion he’s pulling you off the table to spin you around and press you against it. Your chest hits the surface, cool against your hot skin. He grabs both your wrists in only one hand.

“Oh, fuck. Look at you.” Shinsou rasps. 

His hand smooths over your ass, and you yelp as he slaps it. You can hear the buckle of his belt clink as he pulls it off . You try to turn around, but he pushes you back down easily. You whine and he tuts.

“Behave, Y/N. Don’t make me tie you down to the table.”

It seems all your fantasies might be coming true tonight.

You can’t see Shinsou, but you can hear the sound of him pumping his cock. He pulls your legs apart roughly, fingers running a line from the bottom of your cunt to your clit, rubbing it. Your back arches at the sensation and you grit your teeth.

“Stop teasing.” You whine, and he only chuckles.

“What do you need, baby?” 

“Need you.” You mumble, face heating. You push back against him but a big hand easily holds you back.

Shinsou leans down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. And you feel him line himself up, and fuck, the head of his cock feels big itself, pushing against your entrance. And when he begins the slow push into you, your hand grips the edge of the table. He is big, bigger than anything you’ve ever had inside you. He slides in easily, seeing as you're wet enough for it to be dripping out of you.

He makes a delicious sound next to your ear, almost a whine, as he bottoms out. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So good. How do you feel?” His voice is strained, the hand on your hip squeezing.

You’re impossibly full, and you push yourself onto him. “Move, Shinsou.”

And he does. You’ve already come once, meaning the effect of the chemicals has eased just slightly. Shinsou has not, and so the bruising pace he immediately starts pounding into you with is not surprising, but definitely welcomed. You moan, loud and uninhibited. Shinsou fills you more than you’ve ever been filled your whole life, and your body is practically screaming its praises as you finally get that pleasure you’ve been chasing.

Shinsou is louder than you thought he would be. Whispering praise in your ear, practically purring as he drills into you. It’s overwhelming, but it feels so good, and it’s all your brain can focus on.

“That’s it, baby,” He groans, teeth nipping at your neck, “You feel so good, don’t you?”

You nod your head frantically. “Yes, Shinsou.”

“Hitoshi. Call- Call me, Hitoshi.” He breathes out.

And you do. You chant his name like a prayer, tears on your face as he pounds into you. His movements are getting more erratic, and judging by the way he’s twitching inside you and the way his words are starting to slur, you think he’s close.

“Shit. Want you to come all over my cock, okay?” 

He reaches down and starts rubbing tight circles against your clit and at the same time angles his hips just right, so he hits that spot inside you the next time he moves. And it’s like your mind blanks, your cunt clenching around him as you cum. You think you’re drooling on the table, voice broken as you moan. And Shinsou finishes just after you, fucking you through his orgasm and your own.

It takes him entirely too long to finish. He pulls out, his cum dripping down your thighs. He curses at the sight, turning you around to grab your face and kiss you with a hunger you thought he had fed. And you look down then, and once you get over the shock that something that big had been inside of you, you realise Shinsou is slowly getting hard again. 

Your mouth parts with words that can’t get out. He groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry, baby. I need- fuck, I still need you.”

He’s more gentle now, not as erratic as before. You don’t say anything, just loop your arms around his neck to try and brace yourself as he pants, lining himself up with you clumsily. And he presses into you again, the stretch familiar now, both your mess oozing around him. He moans, guttural, his hand toying with your nipple.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. You can take it for me.” He breathes.

He kisses up your shoulder, biting into the sensitive skin of your neck. Shinsou, or Hitoshi, now, looks so worn out. Face still red, mouth slack and panting heavily, chest covered in bright red marks you’d left there. Strands of hair stick to his forehead, eyes shining as presses another kiss to your mouth. Your thighs twitch with overstimulation as he begins to move again, your body torn between pressing against him and pulling away. But he’s right, you will take it. 

Your mind drifts, only for a moment to Mina, and her shit-eating grin at assigning the two of you together on this mission. You definitely should definitely thank her for this.

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Shinsou take ur clothes off PLEAAAAAAASE. There is such a lack of Shinsou on ao3 and tumblr and every site ever crying for crumbs of him.. thank u sm for this ask 🙏

hope u all enjoyed!

[darpok]

For Zohran this fall is all of Brooklyn just going to be outside knocking on each others’ doors

[maskedbyghost]

Part 3 of Simon Leaving During Sex Like a Coward

It started with flowers. It’s not the kind you grab at the corner store in a panic, but ones clearly ordered days in advance — expensive, moody ones, all dark reds and deep purples. You didn’t open the door when they arrived immediately. You just stood behind it, your arms crossed, and watched them through the peephole before deciding to get them.

On day two, he texted.

I know I don’t deserve a reply. I just want you to know I’m not giving up.

You left it on read on purpose. And it felt good.

On day three, he was parked outside your building when you came back from work. Just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking up when you approached, but not moving toward you.

“You stalking me now?” You said, not slowing your pace.

He didn’t smile. “No. I’m just here in case you feel like yelling at me in person today.”

You didn’t. You went upstairs and slammed the door a little harder than necessary, and when you looked out the window twenty minutes later, he was still standing there, doing absolutely nothing. Just waiting. Like a dog. A huge, sad, apologetic dog.

You caved on day five.

“Fine,” you’d said, opening the door just enough to stare at him through the gap. “You want a chance? Take me out. And I swear to God if you bring me to some ‘cozy little place’ where the waitress flirts with you, I will throw your wallet in a river.”

He didn’t even blink. “Got it.”

The first date was at a sushi place where the staff barely looked up. You sat across from him in silence until he cleared his throat.

“You look good,” he said, nervous in a way you’d never seen before.

“I know.”

He cracked a smile. You didn’t.

For a second date, he chose a little cafe by the river. You sipped your drink while he talked about stupid things, about his neighbor's cat and how he chipped a tooth once in a pub fight because he tripped over a pool cue — anything to fill the space. You just listened.

“You don’t say much anymore,” he said quietly after a while.

“I said you could take me out. Didn’t say I’d make it easy.”

He nodded, like he agreed with the punishment.

On the third date, he let you choose. You picked laser tag. You didn’t go easy. You shot him in the back six times and made fun of how slow he was, called him grandpa, and asked if he needed a sit-down break. He called you a menace and grinned through all of it. When the round ended, and you were both panting in the hallway, he looked at you with something like relief.

“You smiled,” he said, like it physically pained him to notice.

“It was at your expense,” you said, wiping sweat from your neck.

“Still counts.”

By the fifth date, you were letting him walk beside you without an awkward amount of space. Still no kissing. He reached for your hand once, and you pulled away with a look so sharp he apologized out loud.

“You don’t get to touch me yet,” you said.

“Right.”

“But you can carry my leftovers.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He got the tattoo on a Tuesday.

Didn’t tell you about it. He just showed up at your door again, holding your favorite overpriced dessert like it was a peace offering. You opened the door and immediately raised an eyebrow.

“No flowers today?”

“Didn’t think they’d survive the guilt trip you were gonna hit me with.”

“Smart.”

He stepped inside when you let him. “I got something,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“If it’s another apology letter I’m gonna start framing them like art.” You said with a smirk on your face.

He didn’t say anything. Just tugged off his glove and held up his left hand. On the inside of his ring finger, you could see fresh ink. Your name in cursive letters.

“…Are you serious?”

“Dead.”

You stared. “You tattooed my name on your ring finger.”

“Mhm.”

“Like. Where a ring would go.”

“Exactly.”

You blinked at him, still shocked.

“If this doesn’t prove how sure I am about you,” he said slowly, “then I dunno what will… but just to be safe—” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, sleek black bag from that stupid luxury brand you once mentioned in passing. “Bribery.”

You snorted despite yourself. “You really think a designer bag’s gonna make me forgive you?”

He looked sheepish. “No. But I thought it’d make you laugh.”

You took it from his hand. “I’ll laugh when I sell it and buy ten pairs of shoes.”

“That’s fair.”

You opened the bag. Inside was your favorite candy, a folded napkin from the cafe, and a tiny note that said “I remember everything.”

You didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then...

“You’re really not gonna give up, huh?”

“Never.”

You sighed. “Fine. You can kiss my forehead.”

He chuckled as he leaned in gently, pressed his lips just there, warm and steady, and didn’t ask for more.

It wasn’t until weeks later, after more petty jokes and slow conversations and him learning exactly how many hoops you’d make him jump through, that you finally let him spend the night again. You were already in bed when he came back from brushing his teeth, and you didn’t say anything as he slipped under the covers. Just pulled him in, hands on his chest, legs sliding over his, the way they used to.

He kissed you carefully. Like he didn’t want to push it. But you tugged him in with both hands, and he pressed you down into the mattress like it hadn’t been months, like he was starving for every second of you.

When he was finally inside you again, moving slowly, sweat running down his spine, and arms shaking from trying to hold back, he looked at you like he could cry.

“I love you,” he said, voice breaking open on the words.

You rolled your eyes, breathless. “Is it my turn now to leave orr…?”

He groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder, muttering something about you being a nightmare, and you just laughed and wrapped your legs around him tighter, because you knew damn well he liked it that way.

---------------------------------------------

idkkk....i kinda lost inspiration halfway...sorry if this sucks..

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbaybay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid

[fushitoru]

all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.

warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, “good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself

a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33

general masterlist

You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.

When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.

You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”

He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”

You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”

“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”

Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.

One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.

He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.

Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.

“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.

Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.

“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.

“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”

“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”

The room went dead silent.

Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.

Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”

You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”

“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.

“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”

He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”

“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.

You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”

Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.

After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.

As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.

He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.

You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”

He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”

The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”

Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”

“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.

His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.

When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”

Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”

At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”

Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.

Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”

Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”

“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.

Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.

“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.

“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”

You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.

“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.

“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”

“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.

Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.

A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”

You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.

“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”

Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”

Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.

“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—“ thrust— “fingers?”

And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.

You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.

And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”

“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.

It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.

“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.

He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”

[botanicsoul]

Rainfall and Ruin

Izuku Midoriya x fem! Reader

this is straight filth

��� ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

You’d been poking the bear all damn day.

Not just for fun—but to finally see what he was hiding.

The thing was…you were dating. You’d been dating for a while now. He kissed you sweetly, held your hand, dry humped you with desperate little whines—but he never went any further. He always stopped himself. Always shook his head, cheeks blazing, voice soft and nervous. He worshipped you, always asked before going any further. And yeah—it was cute.

At first. But now?

Now, it was maddening.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he’d told you once, after a particularly heated makeout that ended with him biting his lip and pulling away. “I don’t… I don’t fully know my own strength. What if I lose control?”panting, cheeks flushed as he grinned against you until both of you were trembling. “I get so… worked up. I don’t know if I could stop.”

God, and you loved him for it. You remembered smiling up at him, brushing sweaty hair from his face. “Then don’t stop.”

you saw the way his hands shook when they rested on your hips. How his jaw clenched when you moaned into a kiss. You knew he wanted to go further. He just wouldn’t let himself. Every time. He never let himself lose control or be rough with you.

You wanted to test him. So today? You wanted to see how far he could be pushed. And damn, he made it too easy.

——

The way he always turned red every time you called him “Zuku.” How his breath hitched when your hand brushed low on his stomach. How his eyes would flicker nervously away when you leaned over to grab your pen, your skirt riding up just enough to make his throat go dry. You’d let out soft moans around him when you’d stretch a little in your seat, just so he could hear. It was like you had him on a string, and each movement you made tugged him closer to the edge.

During your study session later, you decided to take it even further, to really test just how far you could push him without him breaking. The room was nearly empty, the only sound the soft rustle of paper and the scratch of pens. You skipped over to him, a playful smile curling on your lips as you took your seat just a little too close.

“Tell me, Zuku,” you breathed softly against his neck, your lips grazing his skin. You felt him freeze, his body going rigid as your breath tickled his ear. “Do you think about me when you’re alone?” you whispered, “what do you do when you think about me?” your voice soft and teasing.

You could see the way his grip tightened on the textbook, his knuckles turning white as he tried to steady his breath, but it wasn’t working. He couldn’t hide it anymore. You could tell by the way his eyes darted to the side.

You leaned in closer, your body brushing against his as you let your words linger. “I know what you do,” you purred, practically tasting the way he was unraveling under your attention.

You saw his jaw clench, his chest rising and falling with every breath. It was almost cute, how badly he was trying to hold it together. Almost. But you weren’t done yet.

“Zukuuuu…” You dragged the name out, rolling it on your tongue like it was a secret. “wanna know what I do when I think of you?” You slid your hand down his arm, deliberately slow, and when your fingers brushed the edge of his hand, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you kept your palm pressed against his, letting the heat of your touch seep into his skin. “Maybe i’ll have to show you” He was trying to be good. But you were done playing sweet.

So when you asked him to walk you to your dorm after that long study session, all soft smiles and batting lashes, you had every intention of testing that tight grip he kept on himself.

You hooked your arm around his, holding onto him like you needed his warmth, and he let you. Quiet and sweet like always.

But when you got to your door, you turned around, tugged him a little closer, fingers just barely grazing the waistband of his pants.

“Thanks for walking me, Izuku,” you said, voice low and sweet, fingers brushing just below his waistband. You leaned in, your lips grazing his jaw. “You’re always so good to me.”

That’s when you saw it. Not the flustered smile. Not the blush. His eyes.

Dark. Focused. Hungry

You tilted your head, trying one last poke. “Goodnight, Izuku.” You turned toward the door. But before your hand could touch the knob, his slammed into the wood above your head, caging you in.

You gasped, spinning around, heart jumping. His eyes weren’t flustered anymore. They were blazing.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, voice low—dangerous. “You’ve been teasing me all damn day. And now you’re gonna act like I’m just supposed to walk away?”

Your lips parted, breath catching. “I didn’t mean—”

His hand grabbed your chin, tilting your face up. “You did,” he growled. “You said goodnight like you didn’t spend the whole day trying to see how far you could push me.” He leaned in, his lips brushing your cheek.

“You wanted my attention, baby? You’ve got it.”

Before you could react, his thigh slid between yours, pressing up hard, forcing your legs apart. You gasped and instinctively tried to close them, but he held you there—pinned and squirming. His mouth curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

“Ooooh, there it is,” he whispered. “You like this. You wanted this.”

He leaned close, lips ghosting over your jaw, hot breath sending chills down your spine.

“You’re not nearly as innocent as you pretend to be” You opened your mouth to throw out another cheeky line—but you didn’t get the chance.

His lips crashed into yours, all teeth and tongue, stealing your breath. There was nothing sweet about it. It was greedy, rough—punishing. Like he was tasting every smirk, every teasing laugh you gave him that day.

You moaned, grabbing at his shirt, desperate for more. He didn’t stop.

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist. You felt the hardness straining against his pants, pressed perfectly against where you needed it. You whimpered.

He kicked the door open and shoved it shut behind him, never breaking the kiss. Carried you to the bed like you weighed nothing. Then he dropped you onto the mattress and climbed on top of you.

His fingers gripped your hips, hauling you closer, grinding his cock right against your soaked panties through your shorts.

“Feel that?” he rasped, voice dark and gleeful. “I’m hard for you. Have been all damn day.”

You couldn’t even speak—just gasped, clinging to him, your mind spinning from the pressure, the heat, the filthy things he was saying in that shaky, desperate, cocky voice.

“I’ve been so good,” he hissed, voice shaking as his forehead pressed to yours, his breath coming in ragged little pants. “So fucking good for you.”

He ground his hips forward again—harder this time. You cried out, your hands flying up to clutch his shoulders as the thick, heavy heat of him rubbed right against your sweet spot.

His eyes fluttered shut. He bit back a moan.

“Held back every damn time you touched me—every time you climbed in my lap with those pretty eyes, makin’ those little sounds—and I didn’t touch you like I wanted to.”

He dragged his hips against you again, slower this time. Deeper. His voice broke—pleading now.

“Tell me I’ve been good, baby,” he whispered, raw and low, like it was killing him. “Tell me I’ve been good for you.”

You whimpered, nodding, clinging to him like you might fall apart. “You’ve been so good, Zuku—so good, baby—”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes—now blown wide, wild with want—and smiled.

“I want you to ruin me, Zuku.”

He let out the filthiest, neediest sound you’d ever heard, like your words physically wrecked him.

He thrust forward again, harder this time—enough to make you cry out.

He nuzzled against your neck now, lips brushing your skin, his voice lower—more vulnerable.

“Think you’re ready to take me, baby?” he asked, tilting your chin up again. “’Cause when I get inside you—I’m not stopping.”

You gasped his name, dizzy from the friction, from the way he was everywhere.

His eyes swept over you, dark and unreadable.

“Strip,” he said, calm. Too calm.

You blinked, breathless. Your jaw dropped slightly. But your thighs pressed together. You slowly sat up, pulling your shirt off one shoulder, then paused, lips curled in a challenge.

“If you want me naked so bad,” you purred, “you should do something about it, Zuku.”

His eyes flared. He was on you in a second. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and yanked it over your head, then dragged your shorts down your thighs in one rough pull, leaving you in your underwear.

“You’re real brave with your clothes on ya know?,” he muttered, kissing down your stomach, teeth scraping lightly at your hip.

“You really gonna fuck me like you’re mad?” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue dipped below your waistband.

He leaned up, lips brushing your ear.

“No,” he whispered. “I’m gonna fuck you like I’ve been waiting.” god—you were done for.

His mouth was on you—

Hot, wet, perfect. His tongue moved like he was memorizing every part of you—slow drags, then sharp flicks over your clit that had you gasping, fingers digging into his curls.

“Izukuuu—”

“Say my name again like that,” he murmured, eyes flicking up, glazed and desperate. “Say it while you cum on my tongue.”

And you did. Hard. Arching up, thighs trembling around his head, crying out for him as the pressure snapped and pleasure crashed over you like a wave.

But he didn’t stop. Not even close.

He kept licking, slower now, gentle—like he was soothing you through the high. His hand trailed up your body, calloused fingers brushing your ribs, your breast, until he was hovering over you again.

His cock pressed hard and heavy against your thigh through his sweats.

You sat up as he straightened, taking off his shirt. Now seeing his barea chest rising and falling with every ragged breath. His hair stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat, his cheeks flushed, lips parted.

You reached down slowly, eyes locked on his, fingers curling into the waistband of his pants.

He didn’t stop you. Just watched. Watched with dark, hungry eyes, looking up at him like you were about to worship him.

You pulled his pants down, dragging his boxers with them, and—Your breath hitched.

His cock sprang free, flushed and hard, twitching as the cool air hit him. It bobbed once, landing right in front of your face, heavy and aching. You bit your lip, eyes wide with awe and want.

“Tell me again,” he whispered, voice low and wrecked, full of that ache he’d been holding back for so long. “Tell me I’ve been good. Tell me I deserve to fuck you.” His hand came up—not rough this time—just soft. Gentle. He cradled the back of your head like you were the most fragile thing in the world, fingers threading through your hair, rubbing slow circles into your scalp. His thumb brushed just behind your ear.

It was so tender it made your heart stutter.

“You’ve been good, Zuku,” you whispered, voice cracking as your hands fisted in the sheets. “So good to me. You waited. You were patient. You didn’t rush anything.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours again, eyes fluttering shut like he needed to feel everything. But then, in a snap, that softness twisted into something hotter. Darker.

He grabbed your neck and shoved you flat onto the bed so fast you barely had time to process it. Your back hit the mattress, breath stolen from your lungs, hands grasping at the sheets as he towered over you.

He let out a low groan, hips twitching forward. “Tell me I can.” his grip around your neck let up for you to breathe.

“You can. I want you inside me. Please, Izuku—I need you.” He finally gave in.

One hand braced on your thigh, the other gripping your waist, he sank into you slow at first—inch by inch, letting you feel every stretch, every bit of him until he bottomed out with a guttural sound.

You cried out, back arching, breath knocked from your lungs.

He snapped his hips forward, hard and deep, and you saw stars.

He was relentless now.

Each thrust slammed into you with dizzying force—deep, punishing, perfect. His grip on your waist had tightened, fingers digging into your skin like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Your moans had turned to cries, hands scrambling to hold onto anything—him, the sheets, your sanity.

His thrusts grew rougher, more desperate—like something inside him had snapped completely, like the leash had finally given way.

The bed slammed into the wall over and over again, the headboard banging so loud you could barely hear yourself moan. Each thrust sent a sharp jolt through the frame, until even the bolts started to rattle loose beneath you.

“Izuku—” you gasped, hands scrambling at the sheets. “You’re gonna break the—”

CRACK.

“Baby I- I can’t stop” he panted, forehead pressed to yours. “I’m not deep enough in you.”

The headboard split with a sharp snap, wood splintering under the force of his grip as he braced himself, hips snapping forward with punishing rhythm.

Your thighs trembled, legs falling open wider just to take him, even as pain bloomed where his hips met yours. You knew you’d be bruised with dark marks between your legs.

“Z-Zuku—!” you gasped, eyes glassy, vision blurred. “Too much—!”

But your legs didn’t close. Your hips didn’t pull away. If anything, they lifted, begging for more.

Because god, it hurt, but it was so good. That line between pleasure and pain blurred until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Your body needed it. Needed him.

“I’m hurting you—” he choked out between thrusts, breath shaking as he slowed just for a second. “I—I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“You’re not,” you moaned, nails raking down his back. “You feel so fucking good, Izuku. Don’t stop. Please—don’t stop—”

His pace returned, rough and needy, but his hand slid to your face, cupping your cheek—tender, even as he wrecked you.

“You’re everything,” he panted, kissing your lips between thrusts. “You’re—fuck—you take me so well.”

Your body trembled, every nerve on fire, tears prickling in your eyes from the intensity, from how much he gave you—how deeply he wanted you.

And when his fingers found your clit and circled once, twice, just right—

You screamed. Your back arched off the mattress, a strangled scream ripped from your throat, and your whole body snapped.

The orgasm hit you like a wave. Blinding. Overwhelming. Your legs locked around him, hips bucking, hands fisting in his hair.

“ZUKU—!”

Your voice broke, trembling as you sobbed through it, clenching around him so hard his rhythm stuttered.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, head dropping to your neck. “You’re—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—!”

He was losing it.

You felt it in the way he started to fall apart—his thrusts erratic, his moans louder, deeper, needier. He braced his forehead against yours, eyes screwed shut, muscles shaking with the effort to hold on.

“I’m—baby, I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna come—”

You cupped his face this time, kissed him through your wrecked smile. “Do it. I want it in me. Izuku—please.”

That was all he needed.

With a strangled cry, he buried himself deep one last time—so deep—and came, hips jerking, body trembling above you as he gasped your name like a prayer. You felt the warmth flood inside you, the way his cock pulsed through every twitch.

Then everything went still.

Just the sound of your heartbeats. Your ragged breathing. His soft whimpers as he collapsed on top of you, chest heaving.

You wrapped your arms around him, threading fingers through his messy curls.

“Hey,” you whispered, still breathless. “You didn’t hurt me- I mean you hurt everything around us.” He lifted his head slowly, green eyes soft again—glassy, concerned. “promise?” You smiled, kissed the tip of his nose. “You were perfect, Zuku.”

A shy grin tugged at his lips, and he melted into you with a shaky laugh, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured.

“Good,” you whispered. “I want to be the only one who gets you like this.”

“You already are,” he said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“I love you”

[dannyriccsystem]

so random but could you do one where the reader flashes the driver 😭 during a podium, at home, wherever you feel like lol xx

TAKE A LOOK AT ME!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

SUMMARY: You flash the drivers

WARNINGS: Mature, nudity, Y/N usage, not proofread

FEATURING: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, YT22, LH44, CS55, GR63, OP81

No Kimi or Ollie just because I feel a bit awkward writing them in this scenario ��

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

Max was a busy guy. As your boyfriend, he always tried to make sure you were a part of his schedule one way or another. He didn’t want the two of you to grow distant, especially considering you were an anchor of sanity for him. Without you, he’d be a madman by now.

You always tried to reward him, whether it be with a gift or your undying love. He didn’t need these prizes, but Max certainly wouldn’t be complaining when he came home to a warm body to worship, or a good meal to keep himself full and happy. You took care of him just as much.

Today, he wanted to surprise you. It was a week off, and he woke up extra early to cook you breakfast. It was simple, nothing that required lots of skill or practice, but he knew you’d be happy nonetheless.

Indeed you were. You came waddling out into the kitchen, still partially asleep. One hand slid up your shirt to scratch your own stomach as you snatched a piece of bacon, humming in delight. “Max, baby,” You pointed to your half eaten bacon. “Cooked to perfection.”

He laughed and shook his head lightly, but you weren’t done. You held the piece between your teeth, using both hands to pull your pajama top up, letting your breasts spill free. His gaze dropped instantly, and he stared silently for what felt like hours.

He finally reached out to lift you, hoisting you up onto the counter. Max gently tugged your shirt back down. “That’s certainly one way to say thanks.” He kissed your lips, and then went back to cooking, leaving you to sit there. “Quit distracting me.” You both laughed.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

Danny always went all out for you. He pulled out all the stops, and that included date night. You were at the highest rated restaurant in all of Monaco currently— The waitlist was months long, but Danny managed to weasel his way into an earlier reservation. You didn’t know how to show your thanks.

When he left to quickly use the restroom, you got to scheming. You couldn’t just repay him with sex, because you did that anyway. It had to be something new— Something that surprised him. He had all the money in the world, so gifts were a lost cause. What did you get for someone who had nearly everything?

When he returned, you had an idea in the back of your mind. You were both securely tucked away in the corner of the restaurant, with your back to the rest of the room. He sat down, giving you a quick smile before picking up his menu again. There was lots to look at, but the menu wasn’t your biggest concern.

“Danny,” His head snapped up at your voice, and his jaw dropped. You had quickly pulled down the neckline of your dress, and your boobs popped out. He leaped over the table, careful to not knock anything over, and pulled your dress back up to cover your chest.

“Woah!” He settled back down, eyes still wide. “In public? Baby you know I love your tits, and it was a great surprise, but maybe we should keep those for my eyes only.” You laughed, straightening your dress out.

“Alright, alright. I just wanted to surprise you.” You winked, and he huffed a dramatic sigh, his hand over his heart.

“You certainly surprised me.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Even if it was meant to be silly, and he’d never admit it, the nickname ‘Lando Nowins’ had weighed heavily on your boyfriend’s performance. He really loathed it, and was practically seething every time someone dared to call him the mean name. It started way back when you guys first began dating, meaning that throughout his Lando Nowins era, you were still there to support him.

Years ago you made a promise with him that once he made it to P1, you’d flash him while he was up there. Now, in 2024, you were certain he had forgotten that silly little deal, which would make it all the more fun considering he’s just finished first in the Miami Grand Prix. He was already ecstatic with his win, unable to completely process the glory.

You waited until he made it to the top step, holding up his trophy with a victorious stance. Then, as his eyes locked with yours, you made the move. You grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it up, only for a split second, but he for sure got a view of your breasts.

He suddenly fell silent, a look of disbelief on his face as Charles and Max sprayed him with champagne. Nobody but him noticed, including the thousands of people watching from the stands. That was a moment for just him, displayed to the public.

He snapped out of it and joined the others in his celebration, but he couldn’t seem to get the image of your topless body out of his mind.

He found you in his drivers room afterwards, and immediately pushed you back up against the door, pulling your shirt up just enough to slide his head underneath, followed by your giggles.

“Did you forget about that promise?” You asked, holding back your laughter as he buried his face between your boobs.

“I did, and I’m glad I did.” He hummed, breathing you in. “A pleasant surprise.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles was in one of his slumps lately. Ferrari had not been performing to his liking, and it was taking a toll on his mental state. It was obvious with the way he moped around the house, usually cuddling with Leo in silence.

You tried various things to cheer him up. You offered to go on a walk with him and Leo, made his favorite food, put on his favorite movie— Everything. You even tried terrible jokes, which usually just made him pity laugh. You finally decided to pull out your trump card— Something you had been saving for dire situations. You planned on using it to get out of an argument, or persuade him into doing you a favor, but this was more important.

You approached him during one of his moping sessions. He was sitting on the couch watching TV, that same frown that’s been haunting him the past week ever so present. You stood right in front of him, blocking his view. As he looked up, you pulled your shirt up, effectively flashing your tits.

He couldn’t help but smile, a laugh leaving his lips as he covered his eyes with one hand. “Mon ange, what are you doing?!”

“Cheering you up,” You replied before putting the hem of your shirt between your teeth, and climbing on his lap. He lowered his hands to your hips, staring down at your chest without shame.

“It worked. It definitely worked.” Yeah, you could feel that it worked.

—

YUKI TSUNODA - YT22

Yuki was not a morning person. It took forever to get that man out of bed, and then for the following thirty minutes he’d just complain about how he wanted to go back to sleep. Eventually he’d shut up and carry on with his day, but the whole ordeal was no fun for either of you.

“Yuuuukkki, wake up.” You were sat on your knees hunched over him, shaking his side. He groaned, grabbing his pillow and putting it over his ears— Acting like a drama queen, that’s for sure. “Yuki, it’s time to wake up! Quick, there’s a fire in the house!” No response. This guy had zero survival instincts.

You tried for probably another five minutes, using various tactics to wake him up. You even tried wafting the smell of his favorite food in front of his nose, but it didn’t work. You were finally starting to give up, deciding he could just sleep some more, when you suddenly remembered his greatest weakness: Your boobs.

“Yuki, my tits are out-” You were gonna finish your sentence by saying ‘you have to wake up to see’ but he immediately sat up, staring directly at you. You sat on your knees on the bed, your pajama top lifted to reveal your chest.

“I’m up.”

“I can’t believe that worked…”

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

Lewis was a guy who loved nature. He was always dragging you along on hikes, despite the fact they weren’t your favorite thing. He wanted to share his passions with you, and since racing wasn’t something you could quickly join in on, he figured hiking would be just as good.

You complained half the time, but then would be super ecstatic when you came back, like it was the best hike of your life. He didn’t really get your weird way of showing enthusiasm, but he found it entertaining nonetheless.

Today, you were extremely tired, but Lewis just kept pushing the limit. Every time you’d stop to catch your breath, he’d tell you “just a bit further.” Every. Single. Time.

You finally got sick of his nonsensical behavior, and decided to give him a reason to turn around. You stopped, taking a moment to catch your breath before calling out to him. He turned around to face you, and then you quickly lifted your shirt, leaving him speechless.

“Can we turn back now?” You asked as you lowered your shirt, leaning over to continue with your deep breathing.

You could hear him swallow, loud as hell. “Yes. Yes we can.” Good use of free will.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

You actually had a good reason for this. Ever since the move to Williams, Carlos hadn’t been feeling quite like himself. He was struggling with the major downgrade, even with the immense amount of support he was receiving. From you, from his new co-workers, from the fans. It certainly made the blow less harsh.

He just kept getting in his head about things. He wasn’t the smooth operator anymore— He was just your average racer, trying to drag a less than perfect car to the finish line. You could tell he wasn’t suffering on the track, so you chose to surprise him.

One day you came home a little later than normal, and he greeted you with a confused expression, along with his normal forehead kiss. “Where were you?” Coming home late typically meant you were running errands, but your hands were empty.

You didn’t give a proper reply. Instead, you lifted your shirt. Your breasts spilled free, but that’s not what he was focused on. Nestled between them was the number 55– His number. He melted on the spot, grabbing your hips.

“Do you like it?” He nodded, unable to say anything. He leaned down, but you gently pushed his head back. “I just got it done, so no kisses there.”

“Fine,” He grumbled begrudgingly, instead opting to kiss both breasts tenderly. “Your support means everything to me…”

—

GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

Your boyfriend was always without his damn shirt. At home, after races, on his instagram— The world got to see his abs. At first you were always startled when he paraded around your home without a top on, but eventually it became part of the norm.

You could only wonder how he’d react if the roles were reversed. What if one day you just started to walk around with a shirt or bra? The curiosity got to be too much, so one day when you excused yourself to the bathroom, you stripped down to just your pants, letting everything up top hang loose.

You came back, flaunting yourself as if it were nothing abnormal. George noticed immediately, his eyes shamefully staring at your assets as your strutted by. He kept his firm gaze, jaw clenched and all, trained on you. Finally, he couldn’t keep silent anymore and addressed the elephant in the room.

“What are you doing?” You bit back a laugh, turning around to face him. He didn’t seem to mind, but it was definitely out of the ordinary.

“You walk around shirtless all the time. I just wanted to join.” He nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t even seem that fazed by your behavior.

George shrugged, “You got me there.”

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

Oscar Piastri was a gentleman at heart. He knew you were a capable person, but he always held doors open for you, pulled your seat out, offered you his jacket— Everything. He wasn’t stuck up about it, though. If the roles happened to be reversed, he’d politely accept your kind behavior.

Oscar is the type of guy to ask you if you want to come back to his house at the end of the date because he sincerely just wants to continue being around you, not because he’s looking for a quick fuck. He was the perfect guy— You, on the other hand, were his more devious match that paired with his gentlemanly demeanor perfectly.

He could tell you had something up your sleeve all night, because you were abnormally giggly. He just didn’t expect it to quite literally be up the sleeve of your jean jacket, which topped the nice dress you wore to the date nicely.

“A gift for you,” You held out a small photo, face down for him. He raised a brow, and hesitantly took the polaroid picture from you. His cheeks flared up in a bright red cover and he quickly laid it back down on the table, covering it with his hand.

“Why do you have that?!” It was a photo of you, wearing only a pair of heels and his racing helmet. You laughed at his dramatic reaction, sliding the photo back into your own grasp.

“Did you not like it?” You asked, faking a pout as you tucked it back into your bra.

“Well- Obviously I did, but why-?!” He shook his head, laughing at your antics.

“Why not?” Evil laughter ensued.

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or reader going to a football game.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ and we’re back!! hi hi hi. sorry for no new part last week, i was busy as hell. ANYWAY we’re finally meeting reader’s friends !! also guess who managed to finish three different fics today… whew.

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

for the next two weeks, not a day went by that you didn't talk to MalachiConstant; the screen time on your phone almost having doubled. most of the time it was just surface-level stuff; talking about your days, about your interests... but at night, it... changed. it became genuine. real. like you were sitting under the stars together, talking about things that actually mattered.

MalachiConstant: y'know MalachiConstant: sometimes i kinda worry that i'm disappointing everyone around me

YOU: how come?

MalachiConstant: idk MalachiConstant: i feel like i'm fucking shit up all the time MalachiConstant: like i'm a screw up and disappoint everyone

YOU: well, i don't know if it helps, but.. YOU: you haven't disappointed me :).

MalachiConstant: knocking on wood

now, you were sitting with your friends at lunch, occasionally glancing down at your phone screen as if beckoning for the stranger to message you, your lips pursed in thought as the group around you kept chatting, wondering why the boy hadn't texted you all day.

"hey, everything okay?" one of your friends, zainab, asked, looking at you with widened eyes, startling you out of your little reverie. you turned to the girl sitting next to you, feigning a small smile, "yeah, everything's okay."

"she's being ghoooosteed." vivian teased you, causing you to roll your eyes.

"ghosted? by who?" emilia asked with excitement, vivian's statement clearly having piqued both her and zainab's interest.

"it's no one."

"she's lying." vivian grinned, drinking some of her iced latte, "she met someone on that website i recommended. kildareuchats. she told me they've been talking for a few weeks now."

"viv, i told you not to say anything." you groaned, hiding your face in your hand, feeling your cheeks warming up, your next words coming out in an awkward mutter, "only reason i told you was because you saw me text him in the first place..."

"whatever. the important thing is," vivian grinned widely, "our friend here thinks that he's a member of the football team."

"how do you figure that?" zainab asked, and you threw your hands up in slight frustration, "well, i don't know it for sure!" you said, "but he keeps talking about how he has practice, and... he does know a lot about football."

"hot. you're e-dating a football player. who would've thought?" emilia snorted, making you throw a singular fry her way. "i'm pretty sure they have a game tonight."

"oooh, we should go support your boyfriend." zainab squeezed your shoulder and you could feel your face turn warm with embarrassment, "we're not going. and he's not my boyfriend..."

"i can't believe i let you three talk me into this..." you grumbled under your breath, pulling your coat closer to your body, feeling the chilly autumn air in your bones as you sat on the bleachers, watching the game you understood nothing about; when you were younger, your father tried to get you into sports, but most of the time you simply snuck in a book so you wouldn't actually have to focus on it.

"don't try to play pretend." vivian nudged your shoulder and drank out of her slushie, "we all know you're dying to see your cyber-boyfriend."

"again, he's not my boyfriend."

"but you wish he was. bet you've already made him in the sims, and you two have a brood of pixel-kids."

"i don't even know what he looks like."

"well, if it is someone from the football team, he's gotta be at least semi-attractive. have you seen their group picture?" emilia snorted, "everyone is somewhere between seven and ten."

"it's definitely not thornton." vivian snorted, "dude has the emotional capacity of a slinky."

"viv, you do know that that's a dig on yourself?" you raised your brows, "don't think any of us forgot what happened between you two."

"jokes on you." the pink-haired girl stuck her tongue out at you, "i've already forgotten all about it."

"that's what happens when you spike your slushie with vodka."

"don't act like you could focus on this shit sober. besides, this is not about who i've slept with. this is about who you're dying to sleep with." vivian winked and took another sip of her slushie.

"well," you pursed your lips in thought, "he's in a fraternity."'

"that does narrow it a little bit..." zainab mumbled, "maybe maybank? i mean, you did have a crush on him for like, the entirety of freshman year."

"it wasn't a crush!" you held your hands up, "it was... a mere fascination. he had nice hair."

"ah, yes. you were having wet dreams about his hair." vivian snorted, and you smacked her forearm, pursing your lips into a pout as you looked at the field, "how about... mason? he's got that whole broody, mysterious smart guy vibe going for him. he definitely reads vonnegut."

"dodge is a pretty valid option. though, i don't know if chatrooms are his style." emilia tsked, "what about the captain? cameron?"

that suggestion caused vivian to snort and smack the other girl's shoulder, "rafe cameron? yeah, he definitely isn't the type to do that. i think his longest relationship was when a girl accidentally fell asleep in his bed after they hooked up, and he was too drunk to kick her out."

your eyes went to number 9, the name 'cameron' written above his number, making you shake your head and look away before you spoke quietly, "this is stupid. i don't need to know who he is. i don't want to know who he is." vivian wrapped her arm around your shoulder, tugging you close in a comforting gesture; you knew there was truth to your words, but you also knew that the reason you didn't want to know the identity of MalachiConstant was that you knew he'd be disappointed to know who you truly are. to know, that the girl he'd called witty and funny several times actually couldn't tell a joke without stuttering.

after the football game ended with your team winning, the four of you were making your way away from the field, only to hear someone calling out behind you

"viv! vivian, wait up!"

you turned your head to look at who was so eager to talk to your friend, a small snort leaving your lips, nudging vivian's side, "viv, it's your slinky." your friend looked at you with furrowed brows, following your line of sight to topper, the girl letting out an exasperated groan, "is it too late to hide?"

"hey, viv." topper gave the girl a lopsided grin that he surely thought was charming, his face slightly red from the game, "you came."

"most of the school came." vivian gave the boy a narrow, feigned smile before taking another slurp out of her slushie, "whatcha want, thornton?"

"well," the blonde scratched the back of his head while emilia, zainab and you grinned at one another, a strange contrast to the unamused expression on the pink-haired girl's face, "we're having a party, at our frat house. you should come if you feel like it."

"i'll think about it."

"you can bring your friends." topper glanced at the three of you briefly before his focus was fully on vivian once again, "hope to see you there."

"maybe." vivian said, turning around and continuing to walk away, the three of you following behind her, trying your best to control your laughter, "don't say a thing." she warned.

"come on, you've gotta come with me." vivian pouted, spinning around in your office chair, "i can't go alone, z doesn't do parties and em has an essay to finish."

"you know i don't do parties either." you mumbled, absentmindedly stroking angel's soft fur while shopping online for a birthday gift for vivian, "i think i'd suffer a stroke if i even tried to go to a frat party, of all things."

"please! i can't go alone, because then i'll end up hooking up with topper again."

"then just don't go."

"but then i'll have fomo! you know i love parties, i live for-"

YOU HAVE RECEIVED A MESSAGE ON KILDAREUCHATS FROM MalachiConstant. CLICK HERE TO OPEN.

you tuned out everything vivian was saying, instantly clicking the pop-up.

MalachiConstant: whatcha up to?

YOU: nothing much. YOU: trying to stop this annoying wasp from buzzing in my ear

MalachiConstant: a... wasp?

YOU: my friend. YOU: she's trying to get me to go to a party with her. YOU: it's essentially a babysitting gig, though.

MalachiConstant: one party won't hurt you MalachiConstant: wallflower

YOU: how do you know? YOU: what if i have a stroke the moment i step foot into that place?

MalachiConstant: c'mon MalachiConstant: what do you have to lose?

YOU: my dignity.

MalachiConstant: ah, yes. the dignified grandma. MalachiConstant: hey, if the party sucks you can just stand in some corner and send me messages MalachiConstant: might not answer immediately cause i also have a party

YOU: oooh, another frat party?

MalachiConstant: you know me so well MalachiConstant: i dare you to go, poe girl

YOU: this isn't elementary school.

MalachiConstant: i triple-dog dare you

you pursed your lips in thought, looking to vivian and narrowing your eyes at the girl, a pleading look on her face. you groaned, shaking your head in defeat and rolling your eyes, "fine, i'll come with you. but i have nothing to wear."

"don't worry." vivian jumped up from her seat with a victorious smile, ruffling your hair, "you're lucky i'm your fairy slut-mother. with piles and piles of slutty dresses and skirts. i'll go get us something to wear!"

you watched as the girl made her way out of your dorm, her long hair bouncing along with her "nothing too slutty!" you called out after her, before turning back to your computer.

YOU: if i die, i'm blaming you.

TAGLIST: @yktayy9669 @tinythebunni @dywho @melalsworld @akobx @samwinchesterisawhore @st8rkey @jjasmiineee @ltristessedureratoujours @a-lovers-card @uselessnewt @lunaleah @letstryagaintomorrow @cinnamqnnlatte @papapoy @kay133sposts @wtfisastiles @butterfly1c @emmiesummers @melodyyybubbles @toomanywhitelies @littl3loveydovey @scne-vampire @alwaysmaybank @mysticbby2009 @luna443 @drewstarkeyswife-7 @flowerluvr

[hirasunny]

Drive me home

pairing — k-drama! ahn suho x gn! reader

synopsis — you inform him everyday of the school’s meal plan and he takes you home as his form of payment. it becomes a routine and now.. well now everyone thinks you’re dating.

warnings — none. includes suho’s first scene and him being an oblivious fool

genre — fluff, confused feelings, love confession w a kiss

word count — 2.7k+ words

note: hi everyone! it’s my first time posting :) i read a lot of whc fics on tumblr but always see less stories of suho, so i decided to make one for the people that look for him. i’m not much of a writer so i apologize for any mistakes. enjoy loves! 💛

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Hey, (Name). What’s for lunch?”

A voice called out from behind you, not paying any mind that you were obviously busy with writing notes. You decided to ignore it the first time since you were so engrossed in your work, but boy was he pushy.

Due to your lack in response, he bumped the toe of his shoe at the back of your chair—it wasn’t hard but it was enough for you to pause and look at him with furrowed brows. “What, Suho?” You grumbled, locking your eyes on his face.

“What’s for lunch?” Suho repeated as he slowly fixed his posture after laying down on his desk for so long, grunting when he stretched his arms out. “Ah, I’m hungry.” He said with a yawn.

You thought for a moment, trying to remember today’s meal while he silently waited for your answer, looking at you like he was memorizing the look on your face.

“Um, I think it’s seaweed rice balls and tofu stew.” You answered back, you can almost feel yourself salivating at the thought of food but you saw how Suho lit up at the mention of it, nodding as he did so.

“Nice. Sit with me at lunch?” He asked, leaning his head on his palm with a hopeful expression, smiling when you hummed in agreement before he looked elsewhere.

You continued to stare at him though. Creases formed on his uniform, his red shirt underneath giving you an eyesore if you stared at it for too long and his messy bangs that you constantly want to fix.

And his face—you noticed a few cuts and past bruises from all the fights he had, cheeks puffed up, jaw defined like the Gods took their time sculpting it to perfection, and his soft lips that looked like it needed a kiss—

Wait. What?

You felt the blood rushing in your face, coughing as you tried to focus on your notes rather than the boy behind you. What were you even thinking?

Honestly, you don’t even know how you ended up in this predicament.

You just knew it all started when that stupid baseball team barged in your classroom.

—

“Which one of you is Ahn Suho?” The seemingly captain of the baseball team's voice echoed, and by the looks of it.. He was pissed, like really pissed.

Everyone looked at the back of the room as fingers were pointed towards the sleeping male. Almost all of them expected you to do something because you were the closest to him.

You shifted awkwardly in your seat, deciding to poke his arm, “Suho..” You whispered, but he didn’t budge, still snoring like there weren’t six people waiting to beat him up.

You tried a few more times, calling his name louder and shaking his arm. When Suho finally came to his senses, he removed his hands from his pink pillow and wiped his eyes, “What’s up? Is it lunchtime already?” He mumbled, then the guy in front cut him off.

They went back and forth about a girl named Na-eun and Suho blandly responded that he wasn’t interested in her. Then, he soon faced you again, “Hey, what’s for lunch today?” He asked.

You gaped at him, flabbergasted with a look that says: ‘You’re about to get your ass beaten and you’re still asking what’s for lunch?’ Nonetheless, you responded despite the angry baseball team near you. “Oh.. Jaeyuk..”

Suho smiled a little, “That sounds good. Protein is good.” You could only nod at him, glancing at his enemies that walked closer to the both of you.

“Thanks, I owe you.” He said just as you move away from the bat swung at him.

That was the weirdest interaction of the day.

That same day after classes ended, Suho stood outside the school, leaned up against his motorcycle. He didn’t have a reason to stay there actually. But he wanted to because he was waiting for you.

“Hey! (Name), right?” Suho waved when you were coming down the ramp, your bag hanging on your shoulder. You halted your pace and looked around as if to make sure it was you he was talking to.

There was little to no students around and you still pointed to yourself, unsure. “Uh.. Are you talking to me?”

Suho let out a smile and you watched as he opened the buckles of his helmet, “Yeah, you’re the only (Name) I know.” He replied like it was the most obvious answer.

You blinked, and made your way to him. “Why? Is there something wrong?” You asked, tilting your head when he shook his head no.

“I owe you, remember? I’ll take you home, think of it as my payment.” Suho smiled at you again, leaving you no room to refuse and took your bag, bringing it inside his motor top box instead.

“What? It’s fine, I was only telling you our lunch—hey!” He stopped you from talking further by putting his helmet on your head, carefully brushing out your hair so it wouldn’t get in your face.

You blushed in surprise at your close proximity. Seeing how concentrated he was in fixing your hair, you couldn’t say anything else.

“Alright, all done.” He says, putting the shield down before he sat on his motorcycle, turning it on. “Come on, which way do we go?” He looked up at you expectantly, acting as if he didn’t just do such romantic gestures.

You stuttered for a few seconds then sighed in defeat, “Unbelievable.” You say and moved to sit behind him, using his shoulders as support.

—

A month already passed by, yet he never stopped bringing you home. It was starting to become a routine for the both of you and it didn’t even occur to you that you've become close.

That was until your friend called you over at lunchtime when you were about to go to Suho’s table, where Sieun and Beomseok also sat.

“(Nameeee), you’ve been neglecting us.” She pouted, pointing her chopsticks to the trio. “You’re always with them!”

You snickered, “No I’m not, we just hang out a lot.”

She rose an eyebrow, “What about Suho then? You two are inseparable," She teased, “I've heard everyone say you guys are dating.”

You widen your eyes, quickly denying the accusation, “What? We’re not, he just..“ You pursed your lips. “Hold on a sec. What do you mean everyone?”

“You don’t know?” She exclaimed in surprise, then laughed. “People have been saying you’ve been together for a while. And how he drives you home everyday from school. It’s kinda obvious.” She told you, but you processed the information like an old computer — slow and buffering.

“..but we’re just friends. Suho doesn’t like me.” You finally muttered out, a recognizable blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“Well.. I think you certainly do.” Your friend winked at you, ushering you to go back to them.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t deny it.

And you kind of hate that you couldn’t.

You stopped functioning properly minutes later.

You sat down without a word beside Suho, who was busy feeding himself, then glanced at you when he spotted your stillness. “Why? Someone say something to you?” He says incoherently with food in his mouth.

“Could you swallow your food before you talk?” Sieun questioned lowly, disgusted by Suho’s actions while Beomseok laughed at the two.

You chuckled as a way to keep yourself from freaking out, “Eat, Suho. You might choke.”

He didn’t listen though, “Tell me if someone’s bothering you, okay? I got your back.” He spoke lightly, giving a thumbs up before turning to his tray again.

You slowly lift your lips into a soft smile.

“Suho, why do you still take me home?” You asked while he was placing the helmet on your head. He always insists to do it himself—says it’s to make sure it’s secured. (It always is, he just wants to tend for you) However, you can feel his breath near your lips every time and he acts like it never happened.

It drives you nuts.

Suho answered, “You always tell me what lunch is.”

You rolled your eyes, “Is it really just that?” You mumbled quietly in disappointment, slightly hoping you had heard something more than that.

“What was that?” He squint his eyes at you in question, focusing on how your lips turned to a small pout, your eyes slightly glossy from the wind, and your cheeks squished from the helmet. “Forget it.” You voiced, crossing your arms as you looked away, unaware of the attention you were getting.

God, you were so pretty, Suho thought. He wondered if you knew.

Suho stared at you longer, wishing he could say something. He really wanted to. Instead, he cleared his throat, nodding to himself. ‘Maybe next time.’ He told himself.

You avoided interacting as much with Suho the next day. And the day after that, and then another...

But you honestly don’t know if he got the memo.

He still taps your shoulder when he asks for lunch, still messages you with his dumb stickers that often makes you laugh, still runs with you at the field even though he was always the first to finish, still talks to you as if you aren't ignoring him completely.

The worst part? He still waits for you outside school, with the same old lip smile and that damn red helmet he puts on you, always as gentle and careful just so you can be comfortable.

It's making you crazy, you wanted Suho to stop so you can put an end to your blooming feelings. But you don't know how despite the several "what are we's" you ask yourself.

Because at the same time, you loved it.

You loved how he memorized your favorite duet so he can sing it at the karaoke place with you, how he knew not to bother you when you're studying because you easily forget important terms and definitions, how he picked you up from your house in the middle of the night just because you messaged a simple "im hungry :(" and brought you to a night market to eat. So you let him became a part of your routine, without even noticing that he openly let you be a part of his.

Suho never once pushed you away—he pretends not to look for you but smiles and waves when he sees you first in the crowd and he glares at someone when they talk behind your back, taunting them with a look that strongly speaks volume.

He was there, protecting you silently and steadfastly.

On a random Tuesday when classes ended, you cursed at yourself for forgetting your math notebook in your locker. You had a test coming up and you desperately needed it back.

Hence, here you were in front of your homeroom.

Just as you were about to slide the door open. You overhear someone and stopped yourself from moving further when you realize the familiarity of Beomseok's voice.

"Hey, Suho. What do you think of (Name)? You're really close with them." There was a tone in his voice that tells you he was curious. But you were surprised that Suho was still there. You assumed he left already because he told the group he was going to work earlier.

Now you were invested.

"(Name)? Ah, they're a pretty good friend." Suho shared, ending the conversation rather quickly like it was nothing.

Their voices were muffled after that. Friend? Is that what he just thinks of you? Nothing more?

Just a pretty good friend?

Lost in thought, you forgot you were in front of the door and had no time to react when it opened wide.

There he was, in all his glory. The boy who occupied all the thoughts in your mind.

Ahn Suho.

His body jumped a bit when he saw you. Scanning you before he widened his eyes, "(Name)."

He was about to open his mouth once more before you walked back to where you came from, unable to face him anymore.

Or anyone at the matter.

He yelled out your name as you walked faster. You just wanted to get home as fast as possible. And probably cry your eyes out while you're at it too.

You weren't aware that you even made it out of the school, seeing a glimpse of a familiar motorcycle near the school entrance before you were pulled beside it by a hand firmly on your forearm.

"(Name)!" Suho's voice made you snap out of it, a bit breathless from running after you.

"What, Suho? What is it?" You demanded angrily, forcing your arm away from him and tried to look less vulnerable in the sight of him.

But he saw through you too easily, seeing the way you shut your walls around him.

"I was waiting for you."

You looked up to him sharply, feeling your throat closing in on you. "You have to be joking right?" You asked in disbelief, "You have no right to say that. We're just friends after all." You added, your hands were trembling out of frustration.

Suho furrowed his eyebrows, "(Name), what do you mean?"

"Oh my God. Suho, are you really that dense?" You tried again, wishing he would finally understand why you were acting like this.

He looked at you like he was trying hard to grasp the situation. But you continued.

"I like you! And I can't keep acting like what you're doing means nothing to me—because it does. Everything you do matters to me!" You ranted, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down.

Suho didn't reply, he just slowly walked closer to you, and you let him.

His hands, that stayed mostly in his pockets, placed themselves on your cheeks, he felt warm as you were right now after confessing to him. You waited for him to say something, anything, so you wouldn't hear your heart beating so loudly.

"You're not a friend." He calmly stated, his voice wavering slightly as if he was finding words to glue together.

You gave him a look, "Then what am I to you?" You whisper, attempting to shy away from his deep gaze.

Suho tilted his head closer to yours, feeling each other's warm breath before he leaned in, placing his lips on yours.

It felt like you melted, your hands clutched his jacket for dear life as one of his hands smoothly settled behind the back of your neck, the other on your hip, deepening the kiss.

Maybe that was your answer.

That he has always thought of you more than just a friend, he simply didn’t know how to say it. He just waited for the right time.

When you both pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, "You're gonna be mine." He says confidently, moving his head back when you laughed.

He knew that sound was going to be his favorite.

You nodded with a smile, "Good. Because I like that better."

“Let me drive you home?” Suho asked, but he didn’t have to ask, you knew he was already getting his helmet from his motor top box.

“You ask that to anyone else?” You teased, but you let out a small sound when he quickly pressed his lips on you again and plopped the helmet on you.

“Just you.”

—

“Woah, the tofu’s so soft. (Name), try this.” Suho commented beside you, bringing up a spoonful to your lips—you rolled your eyes at his antics, but opened your mouth anyway, tasting the perfect blend of saltiness and bean-like flavor of the silky tofu.

You hummed, “It is. I like it.”

Suho looked like a puppy, beaming in pride and ate more, not forgetting to put some on your plate. However, you see the students around you take a glance at your table that made you sigh and shake your head.

Sure, people looked at you and Suho still, whispering amongst themselves but you couldn’t care less. Since now you can’t even deny the dating rumors when you have your hand intertwined with his.

And it was more than okay for the both of you.

[yanadolls]

BE MINE, AND EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE ♡

||| FEATURING: NAGI SEISHIRO, REO MIKAGE X FEM READER

||| 18+, MDNI ── .✦ sexual content, stalking, obsession, breaking and entering, pervert!nagi, pervert!reo, somnophilia, unprotected sex, fingering, filming during sex

ᯓ★

REO MIKAGE ౨ৎ

reo who noticed how little interest you paid in him at school, and when he approached, you treated him like a normal guy before walking away with a little wave. he instantly became determined to get your attention.

reo who showed up the next day with gifts for you at school, spending a hefty amount of money on each one (which wasn't something he typically did), only to get a strange look from you. of course you would be a bit weirded out- this random guy from your class, who you only spoke to once, was suddenly buying you expensive gifts and begging you to go out with him? anyone would be a bit creeped out.

but reo wasn't a normal guy. he was THE reo mikage, and you were the first girl to ever reject him, even if it was in a polite manner.

while that should've made him want to stop pursuing you, it actually had the opposite effect.

reo who went from determined to utterly obsessed with you; secretly following you places, hiring people to keep tabs on you to make sure no guys were actively in your life, observing your every move. you were so sweet and cute, he wanted nothing more than to take you to his place and keep you hidden from everyone in the world, corrupting you.

reo who fell in love with you very deeply, more than he ever had for anyone before.

reo who keeps photos of you all over his wall, and a shrine in his closet containing all your stolen items ranging from pencils and empty juice boxes to some bras and panties.

reo who started showing up at your door late at night, dropping off gifts and tons of love mail, some sweet and loving, others more threatening and disgusting.

"my dear, you looked utterly beautiful today. was that dress new? i never saw you wear it before, i certainly hope you didn't buy it for someone other than me."

"i watched you sleep last night. you looked so precious and adorable, i wanted to fuck your little pussy so badly, but i held back for you <3"

"bad things will happen to you if i find out you have a boyfriend, sweet thing. i'll be forced to take you back to my place and keep you forever till you love me back just as much. i'll kill any man you go on a date with."

"i saw you touching yourself last night, it was so fucking cute. it's like you're teasing me at this point, don't you think? i was fucking my fist the entire time, wishing i could've been fucking you instead of your fingers doing the work. you were moaning so sweetly- you were thinking of me, right?"

reo who never revealed his identity to you after he got rejected, but you had a feeling it was him considering how he acted prior it. you just had no proof, since reo wasn't seen near you during school.

reo stood at your bedroom door, the rain from outside pattering against the window. it was midnight, and he had stolen one of your keys a month ago to enter your house whenever he pleased. the floor creaked under him as he slowly approached your bed, gazing down at your sleeping figure in both lust and love. what started off as just a desperate attempt for your attention turned into an obsessive love, and he was convinced you were the one for him now. you were so sweet, so gentle and kind- innocent and oblivious to the cruel people out there who would take advantage of you. not reo, though. he wanted to protect you, marry you at 18 and keep you trapped with him for the rest of both of your lives.

reo carefully crawled onto the bed, enveloping you in his arms from behind as his boner poked your thigh. he groaned at the mere touch of your body. you stirred, but never awoke. his fingers moved down to your waistband, slipping your shorts down to your thighs very cautiously until your lacey panties were revealed. he felt his dick twitch in his pants at the very sight. were you trying to make him fuck you?

he played with your sensitive clit through your panties, rubbing slowly and sensually and watching you squirm in your sleep, but staying unconscious still.

"such a good girl f'me.. staying asleep." he whispered, staring at you with obsession in his eyes. he wanted you to love him so badly, he thinks you two would be the perfect couple. he tweaks out at the mere thought of another man liking you.

he pulled your panties down and dipped two of his long digits into your sweet cunt, moaning at the feeling of your wet walls clenching around him. he slowly pumped them in and out, watching your face contort in pleasure in your sleep. he kept whispering his name into your ear, trying to contaminate your dreams with him and only him in hopes you would moan out his name. that's all he needed to hear right now.

"you're perfect, baby. absolutely perfect. it's like you were made for me.. you love me too, don't you? yeahh, i know you do.. don't worry, i love you just as much."

he was getting off to just fingering you, whispering in your ear more while inserting a third finger and speeding the pace just a bit more, but making sure it wasn't enough motion to wake you up.

"m-mh.. reo..?"

your soft moan that was laced with confusion and it's usual sweetness made him cum in his boxers, biting his lip to silence any noise. he abruptly stopped his movements in your hole, glancing at your face to make sure you weren't stirring awake. for a moment, it seemed like you were going to, but with silence and stilled movement, you eventually went back to being fully unconscious. that was close.

reo carefully pulled his fingers out of your pussy, licking them clean and loving the sweet taste. he pulled up your shorts, your slick and cum dampening your panties. the purple haired man smiled warmly at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering a 'goodnight, my darling' into your ear before leaving to go home.

in the morning, you were very confused how you had came last night. you faintly remembered reo entering your dream, and you could almost feel him fingering you; but that must've just been a dream, right? why were you even thinking about him anyway? did you..actually like him without realizing it? you felt a bit needy for him now.

♡

NAGI SEISHIRO ౨ৎ

nagi who felt warm when you were around. you had been the only girl to ever consistently talk and check up on him, giving him a sweet smile each time. he was pretty indifferent at first, but eventually he found himself enjoying every interaction.

actually, he found himself enjoying it a bit too much.

nagi who slowly became obsessed with you, love pumping through his blood every time he saw you. he began approaching you more, asking to hang out, asking you if you had a boyfriend, asking if you were busy.. you found it cute at first, but he started getting a bit more strange.

nagi who started taking pictures of you on his phone, stashing it into an album of you he had hidden.

nagi who would secretly start recording before you approached him, and 'accidentally' drop his phone under you, camera aimed up, so he could get an upshot of your skirt for his album to jack off to later.

nagi who started following you around, noting places you often visited. he wanted to be near you 24/7, and he saw no problem with what he was doing. he had never liked anyone before, so this feeling was probably normal, right? this was a normal thing to do, right?

nagi who would enter your house uninvited, lazily lounging on your couch and shrugging nonchalantly when you shockingly asked why he was in your house.

"just missed you, i guess."

nagi who started following you on many random accounts- your instagram and tiktok flooded with "user46985634" or some such who either spam liked your posts and commented about how beautiful you were or stalked your reposts. each time you blocked an account, a new one would appear.

nagi who would think of you at night when fucking his fist, groaning your name shamelessly. he would swap between looking at your photos on your instagram to looking at the photos he took, nutting on his phone screen every time.

nagi who steals your panties from your dirty laundry basket, sniffing them, licking them, and rubbing them against his hard cock once he was home.

nagi who started touching you without any care of your boundaries, bluntly telling you that he was in love with you and nothing could change the way he felt so you might as well save him the hassle and fall in love, too.

nagi clicked his tongue after climbing through your living room window, finally entering your home. you had locked the doors since it was nighttime, but he still didn't appreciate the fact he had to put in effort to get in compared to the times he easily just waltzed right in. either way, he pushed his annoyance aside and walked up the stairs, not caring about being quiet. he entered your home without permission so many times, you surely were used to it now, right?

the snowy haired man walked into your bedroom, closing the door gently behind him. his droopy eyes softened at your adorable sleeping body, his cock feeling heavier in his pants. you were so ethereal without even trying- and with the way the moonlight shone down and illuminated your skin, it only furthered his now undying love for you.

the mattress dipped under his weight as he got on, towering above you. he felt his breath shake in slight excitement as he moved you onto your back, slowly pushing down your shorts off, doing the same with your panties but stuffing them into his pocket for later use. his mouth watered at the sight of your bare cunt, making him harder and harder by the minute. all nagi wanted was to love you, and have you love him in return. you were always so nice and so sweet, and he was under the assumption now that you were totally in love with him, too. he licked his lips as he pulled out his phone, hitting record once he was out of his pants and aiming it down at your body, pushing up your oversized shirt to reveal your chest as well.

his larger hand came down to tightly hold your waist, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"so sorry, baby.. need you so badly, you don't even know.."

he grunted as he pushed into your walls, adjusting the camera view as his fat cock began splitting you in half. you moved a bit in your sleep, wincing as a soft noise escaped your lips.

"so cute, y/n.."

he murmured, bottoming out in you. his long length kissed your cervix from how deep he was inside you, a bulge formed in your tummy. nagi's hand moved from your waist to the bulge, pressing down on it with a groan. he slowly began thrusting into you, filming the entire thing so he could rewatch it later. soft moans left your lips unconsciously as he started fucking you, eyes locked onto you with adoration. nagi never felt this way for anyone in his entire, boring life- you added a color to it that nobody else could, and now he wouldn't be satisfied with anyone else.

"mh.."

you stirred awake, sleepy eyes fluttering open from all the movement and pleasure. however, once you processed what was happening, your cheeks flushed and your once tired eyes shot wide open.

"a-ah-?! nagi, w-what are you?!"

"shh, baby." nagi silenced you with a kiss, "y'so fucking cute. so glad you approached me so much, made me so happy.. lemme make you feel good in return. pretty please?"

with how good he was thrusting into you, it made it hard to say no.

AN: AHH IM OBSESSED W STALKER REO AND NAGI <33 i actually LOVE this concept sm it makes me ugghh

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hello :) i Love your story.

I have a request. Lando introduces Maugi to yn Baby as his girlfriend. Things don't go well at first, but later they become best friends.

Stealing her heart

Lando sat on the couch, his fingers drumming anxiously against his knee. Across from him, Magui shifted nervously, her hands clasped together in her lap. They exchanged a look, and Lando offered a small, reassuring smile.

"She'll be home soon," he murmured.

Magui nodded, but her heart pounded. She had been dating Lando for five months now, and they were happy. More than happy. But today was different—today, she was meeting the most important person in his life: his daughter, Yn.

The front door creaked open, and the pitter-patter of small feet echoed through the hallway. "Daddy!" a tiny voice called out, excitement bursting through the house.

Lando stood up, his heart swelling at the sight of his little girl running toward him. "Hey, my love!" He scooped her up effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek.

Yn giggled, her small arms wrapping around his neck. "I missed you!"

"I missed you more, little bean," Lando murmured, squeezing her close.

Only then did she notice the unfamiliar woman sitting on the couch. Yn’s smile faltered, her tiny brows furrowing as she clung tighter to her dad. "Who's that?" she asked, voice laced with curiosity and caution.

Lando swallowed. "Baby, this is Magui. Remember how Daddy told you about my special friend?" He set Yn down, gently tucking a curl behind her ear. "She wanted to meet you. And look! She even brought you a present."

Magui smiled warmly and held out a neatly wrapped box with a ribbon. "Hi, Yn. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I got you something—I hope you like it."

Yn stared at the box but didn’t take it. She looked up at Lando, eyes wide with confusion. "Why?"

Lando hesitated, crouching beside her. "Because she cares about you, love. Magui is really special to me, and I was hoping we could all spend time together, like a little team. Like a family."

The word seemed to make Yn shrink. She shook her head, taking a step back. "No. I don’t want a family. I have you. I don’t need her."

Silence. Magui’s heart twisted, but she kept her smile soft, understanding the little girl’s hesitation. Before either of them could say anything, Yn turned and bolted, her tiny feet thudding down the hallway. A door slammed shut.

Lando sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm so sorry. I—"

Magui shook her head, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Don’t apologize, amor. She’s just scared. She’s only ever had you. It makes sense."

"But I don’t want her to be upset." Lando exhaled. "I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but…"

Magui squeezed his hand. "Give her time. I’ll win her over. I promise."

And so, she did.

---

Magui made it her mission to show Yn that she wasn’t trying to take anything away from her, only add to her life.

When they went shopping, Magui let Yn pick out whatever she wanted. "Are you sure I can have both?" Yn asked hesitantly, holding a stuffed bunny in one hand and a sparkly tiara in the other.

Magui grinned. "Of course, princesa. Why choose when you can have both?"

Yn beamed, and for the first time, she took Magui’s hand voluntarily as they walked through the store.

When Magui traveled for work, she always brought back a little gift. "I found this in Paris, and it reminded me of you," she told Yn one evening, handing her a tiny Eiffel Tower keychain.

Yn’s fingers curled around it as she whispered, "Thank you."

During movie nights at Lando’s house, Magui would braid Yn’s hair while they watched Disney movies. "You have such beautiful curls," she’d murmur, gently running her fingers through the soft strands.

Yn would hum contentedly, her head resting against Magui’s arm.

And when Magui started spending the night, she made sure to make breakfast extra special. Pancakes shaped like hearts, fruit arranged in a smiley face, and tiny marshmallows in Yn’s hot chocolate.

Yn giggled, taking a bite of a pancake. "This is so pretty!"

Magui winked. "Only the best for my favorite little princess."

Little by little, the walls Yn had built around her heart began to crumble.

One evening, a storm rolled in. Thunder cracked through the sky, and rain hammered against the windows. In the dim glow of the bedroom, Magui stirred, sensing movement.

A tiny whisper reached her ears. "Daddy? Magui?"

Blinking awake, Magui turned to see Yn standing by the bed, clutching her stuffed bunny. Her bottom lip wobbled.

Lando stirred, still half-asleep, but Magui reacted instantly. She lifted the covers, opening her arms. "Come here, meu amor."

Yn hesitated for only a second before climbing into bed. She nestled into Magui’s warmth, small arms wrapping around her. Magui stroked her hair, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You're safe, princesa. I've got you."

Yn snuggled closer, her tiny fingers gripping Magui’s shirt. Then, in the quiet of the storm, she whispered, "Thank you." She hesitated before pressing a soft kiss to Magui’s cheek. "I love you."

Magui’s heart clenched. She swallowed the lump in her throat, holding Yn even tighter. "I love you too, baby girl."

Lando, still half-asleep, reached over, his arm draping around them both. With a sleepy grin, he mumbled, "Told you… you stole her heart."

Magui smiled, her eyes shining in the dark. Maybe she had. But the truth was, Yn had stolen hers first.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[jnhuius]

NIGHT OF SECRECY

pairing. joshua hong x afab!14th member!reader

genre. nsfw / smut

wc. 1,926

content warnings / tags. one scene is inspired by this joshua drabble !! (original author is wonwootattoo), porn with a little bit of plot, let's pretend all of the members still share one dorm, secret relationship, kissing (a lot of it), nicknames (my love, baby, good girl), passing mention of marking/hickeys, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (pls wrap it b4 u tap it!), rough sex, p in v, he comes inside, i hate the ending :(

author's note. ❗please reblog ❗ what do i do instead of sleeping? write a smut fic for mr. hong... i fear i've been obsessed with 14th member fics so forgive me for this self indulgent fic... i love joshua and i needed to write him in one way or another 🙏🏻 ALSO THE LACK OF NEW JOSHUA FICS IS INSANE 💔 anyway hope y'all enjoy this

“Hey, Y/N, want to join us? We're going out,” Jeonghan asked.

You shook your head, lounging on the couch as you scrolled through your phone.

“I'm not in the mood to go out today, but have fun and stay safe. Just bring me home some food.”

The members all called out a collective “yes” as they left one by one.

You glanced out the window. The sun was setting, and it was obvious they were heading somewhere to drink until late. You didn’t want to be the one puking her guts out until tomorrow.

You sighed just as Joshua stepped out of his room. You perked up, sitting up with a smile. He approached slowly and placed a gentle hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch.

“Are you going with them?” you asked.

He nodded. “Mhm. I promise I won’t drink too much. Hopefully, they don’t force me to go all out,” he chuckled.

You smiled, nodding in agreement. He leaned down, kissing you softly, the gesture sweet and familiar.

“Stay safe. I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

He hummed, deepening the kiss just a little.

“I love you. I’ll be back soon,” he said, pulling away to press a kiss to your forehead before straightening up.

You waved goodbye as he headed to the door, pretending to walk slowly and sadly. You giggled, playing along with the act until he stepped out and shut the door behind him.

You smiled as you laid back on the couch. Your relationship with him was a big gamble—being the youngest and the only woman in the group, and dating the third eldest member.

You’d been together for five months now. You both agreed to keep it a secret at first—to see how things would go. You didn’t want your relationship to affect the group dynamics in case it didn’t work out. Eventually, you planned to tell the others… just not yet.

After a few hours of doom scrolling on your phone, you saw it was already 8 p.m. With nothing else to do and feeling tired, you decided to just sleep.

You went into Joshua’s room and stole one of his hoodies before returning to yours. After washing up, you slipped it on—wearing only your underwear underneath—and crawled into bed.

Living with thirteen men usually meant wearing pajamas or shorts just in case, but tonight they were likely too drunk to remember you existed, let alone stumble into your room.

You yawned, enjoying the softness of the comforter against your skin. Wonwoo was probably jealous—you were always the one left alone while they dragged him out.

Smiling to yourself, you closed your eyes and slowly drifted off.

—

Joshua groaned, rubbing his forehead as he entered the dorm. He had barely managed to escape the clutches of the drunk members who wouldn’t let him leave.

Before, he used to stay out with them until they all decided to head home together. But now, with you in his life, he always wanted to return earlier—to spend those quiet, precious moments with you without having to pretend you were just another bandmate.

He sighed, walking toward your room first. He peeked inside, the space dim aside from the soft glow of your Kuromi nightlight—the one he’d given you for your birthday.

You were fast asleep. Of course you were—it was already past 11 p.m.

He tiptoed in, gently pulling the blanket down from your face just enough to place a kiss on your forehead. Then he stood back up and quietly left to shower. You’d always told him not to lie on your bed with “outside clothes,” and he respected that.

After showering, he put on a white tank top and a pair of black shorts. He towel-dried his hair quickly, unable to keep himself from going right back to your room. He stepped in and locked the door behind him.

Joshua padded over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Carefully pulling the blanket down again, he found you curled around Shuasumi—his miniteen plushie.

He almost laughed, biting back the urge to pinch your cheeks from how cute you looked. Slowly, he pried the deer plushie from your arms and tossed it to the corner of the room.

You stirred, groaning as you slowly woke to the feeling of familiar hands gently guiding your body onto your back.

“Joshi?” you murmured, voice thick with sleep as you rubbed your eyes and stretched your legs beneath the blanket.

“Hi, my love,” your boyfriend answered, a dazzling smile lighting up his face.

With one knee on the mattress, Joshua leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss, his hand gently gripping your chin as he tried to deepen it without hesitation.

You whined, pushing at his chest.

“Where’s my Shuasumi plush?”

Joshua blinked, taken aback for a second before resting his forehead against yours, a breathy laugh escaping him.

“I’m trying to kiss my girlfriend, and you're thinking about a miniteen plushie?”

“Where’d you throw him?” you pouted, sitting up with sleepy annoyance.

“You don’t need him. You have me. I’m home now,” he chuckled, gently guiding you back down onto the bed as he hovered over you.

His hand tangled in your hair, pulling it a bit harshly to angle your face so he could kiss you properly—but not with innocent intentions anymore.

You moaned as you felt his hips move against yours, causing him to push his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues moved against each other as he gripped your waist, grinding his bulge against your core.

He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips as he kissed down your jaw.

“Where’s the other members?” You whimpered, feeling him suck behind your ear, a sensitive zone that he discovered a few months ago.

“Still out. Don't worry, we'll be done by the time they get back,” he now fully pulled off the covers, spreading your legs even further. You felt his hand slide down in between your thighs, a gasp leaving your lips as his thumb came into contact with your covered clit.

“Ah—Shua,” you whimpered, feeling him put pressure as he rubbed circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You bit your bottom lip as you felt one hand pull the fabric of your panties to the side while the other was in his mouth to lubricate it using his saliva before rubbing it on your slit.

Your clit was in between his index and middle finger as he rubbed your slit, making you even more wet and arch your back. You felt a finger teasing your entrance before gently pushing in, eliciting a gasp from you. He was being gentle, knowing how big his hands are.

“Joshua, fuck—” you dug your fingernails on his arm as you felt him insert another finger inside, slowly starting to thrust it in and out.

“I can feel you tightening around me. Are you this turned on just by fingers already?” He breathlessly chuckled. He continued to move his fingers before circling your clit using his thumb.

“Come on, I need you to cum before I enter you,” he moved his fingers a bit faster and you swore you saw stars as you came undone around him. Your thighs shook, his name being the only thing you were saying as he let you ride out your climax. He continued to thrust his fingers inside you, before pulling out and licking it clean.

“You're a pervert, you know that?” You said, laying on the bed limply.

He chuckled. “Woozi isn't against my gentleman agenda for no reason, sweetheart.”

He leaned down, kissing you deeply while his hands slid down to the hem of your hoodie to pull it off of your body. He kissed your shoulder, before sliding down to your chest. He kissed the valley of your breasts before his hands grabbed one of your boobs, fondling it gently as you moaned.

His thumb then finds your hardened nipple, instinctively rolling over them immediately. You bit your lip as he pulled away, leaning down to capture your nipple in his mouth. You whimpered, feeling his tongue tease your nipple, licking circles before sucking on it.

He did the same to the other one, not stopping for a few minutes before pulling away. He took off his tank top, pulling down his shorts to free his erection while his hand also pulled down your panties. His cock stood proudly against your stomach. It's been inside of you a few times now, but it was still scary.

He rubbed the tip against your clit, letting it get wet from your release. He lined it up with your entrance before slowly and gently pushing inside of you. He moaned as he was sheathed inside of you.

“Oh… good girl, you're taking me in so well,” he gasped, pulling out and gently thrusting back in. You could feel every vein on his length, and it wasn't helping your sensitivity.

“Joshua, holy fuck—” He covered your mouth, leaning down to line up his mouth to your ear.

“Shhh, the members might come home at any second. Keep quiet for me, alright?” He began to thrust a lot more harsher, the bed slightly creaking from the movement. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his tip hit the sensitive spot inside of you. You moaned loudly against Joshua's palm.

“I found it already?” He chuckled before thrusting to hit the same spot over and over again. Your toes curled as one of his hands raised your leg on his shoulders, letting him angle his hips to reach much deeper inside you.

Slowly, his pace was slowly starting to get more fast, rough and erratic. After a few seconds, he was basically fucking you like an animal in heat with how fast he was pounding inside of you.

“Shua—I’m close,” you whimpered.

He nodded, kissing your jaw, “Me too, baby, me too.”

He pulled his hand away from your mouth, his hands spreading your legs even further as he thrusted hard and rough inside of you. You used your hand to muffle your moans, tears pricking your eyes at how good it felt.

“Please, don't stop, only a bit more—” You cried out before coming undone around him for the second time, crying out his name like it was a prayer.

Joshua followed, moaning against your ear as he emptied himself inside you. He rode out his orgasm, thrusting it and out for a bit before pulling out. His release dripped out of your entrance as you laid limp on your bed.

“I'll clean us up, hold on,” Joshua said, out of breath as he stood up to go to your bathroom. He returned clothed, with a towel in his hand. He sat down on the edge of the bed, cleaning you up as he helped you put your clothes back on.

“I have to leave now. The other members might see us,” he said gently, contrasting how he was acting a few minutes ago.

“...Alright,” you nodded. He leaned down, kissing your face. You sighed, relishing his affection before he pulled away.

“I love you, good night,” he returned Shuasumi to you suddenly, you didn't even notice where he pulled him from.

You giggled, “I love you, good night as well,” he kissed you one last time before leaving you alone in your room to actually sleep.

You were excited to tell the members about the two of you soon.

[kxsagi]

Omg I ran here as soon as I woke up because I’ve got ideas!!!!

I even left this in my notes app but:

https://youtube.com/shorts/nUb7dVadJYA?si=I2ameWw30paQmV8W

But like this with bllk boys??? Or just a one shot with anyone? This is like a friends to lovers thing 😩😩 gonna combust from this because literally (I know it’s an ad but still eienfiejwkdndj)

Anyways sorry for the rant I missed your inbox 🫶🫶

“𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬… 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬?”

a/n: leaving it in your notes app is true dedication 😭 I LOVE THIS REQUEST

ft. isagi yoichi, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, karasu tabito, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

you’re sitting in his lap. like it’s nothing. like it’s a chair. 

he just taps his knee like “seat’s open” and you go “sweet, thanks” and proceed to text like you’re not in each other’s personal space. 

he literally feeds you from his bowl at restaurants. you just open your mouth without looking. he doesn’t even question it. 

calls you “love” to mess with you but keeps doing it because “haha it’s funny right? unless…?” 

once you yawned and he stretched his arms around you at the same time. didn’t move them. you didn’t move either. you were like “comfy.” 

everyone thinks you’re dating. you guys are like “nooo we’re besties!” but you wear his hoodies and he kisses your forehead when you’re sad. 

shidou ryusei

“you’re literally obsessed with me.” 

“shut up, i am not.” 

proceeds to send him 3 memes, 5 tik toks, and a voice note that ends in giggling. 

has you saved in his phone as “wifey 💍💥” and you never changed it. 

shidou: “lemme see your tits.” 

you: “get me coffee first.” 

shidou: “deal.” 

gets the coffee and completely forgets about the bit. 

he always leans on you, touches your hair, lays his head in your lap. says you give off “emotional support pet” vibes. you’re like “that’s so rude” while playing with his hair. 

once slapped your ass after a game and was like “good job out there, champ 😌” 

you: “thanks babe 😘” 

cue both of you turning pink and pretending it didn’t happen. 

nagi seishiro

you share a bed. literally just knock out next to each other like it’s nothing. 

he grabs your waist when he’s gaming so you won’t move from beside him. sometimes rests his chin on your shoulder. 

one time you changed in front of him and he didn’t even blink. “bro, we’ve been friends since puberty. what haven’t i seen?” 

he calls you “princess” or “pretty thing” when you whine about stuff. it should be illegal how casual he makes it sound. 

nags you to cuddle him. “ugh you’re so annoying,” you say, while spooning him. 

once said “you’d probably make a good girlfriend” while half-asleep. you said “you’d make a horrible boyfriend” and he just chuckled and went “true.” 

kaiser michael

he grabs your face to check your makeup and says “you’re cute today.” you say “just today?” 

he goes “so you do like compliments from me.” 

you both flirt like it’s a sport. your friends have bets on who will fold first. 

you steal his cologne. he wears the bracelet you made at a craft fair. it’s blue. you don’t question it. 

the way he picks lint off your clothes and goes “my standards are higher than this.” you respond by poking your tongue at his cheek. 

has said “if we’re both still single by 30–” 

you: “we’ll be married?” 

kaiser: “no, i’ll cry myself to sleep every night.” 

you: “same.” 

he gets jealous when you flirt with others but masks it with sarcasm. you’re like “jealous much?” and he’s like “you wish. i’m just protective of my property– i mean friend.” 

bachira meguru

you’re always touching in some way. pinkies linked, arms around each other, knees bumping. 

he sends you selfies captioned “for my #1 fan 😘” and you reply “hottt. send more.” 

once made a “fake dating” joke and he was like “you’d like that huh?” and you were like “maybe i would” and then you both went silent for 10 minutes. 

draws hearts next to your name when doodling. you steal his hoodie and he acts like you just confessed. 

people flirt with him and he immediately goes “haha sorry i have a soulmate” and points at you. you do the same. 

one time he accidentally said “i love you” mid-laugh. you blinked. he blinked. 

“… cool lol.” 

“lol yeah.” 

itoshi rin

you know him too well. like dangerously well. 

he doesn’t have to say “i’m cold.” you just hand him your jacket. 

he glares at anyone who tries to hit on you and says “they’re not your type.” 

you: “what is my type then?” 

rin: deadpan “me.” 

“you look like shit,” he says. 

“you still like me though,” you reply. 

he doesn’t deny it. 

he lets you touch his hair. his hair. 

you once called him “baby” by accident and he just responded like it was normal. 

he only softens up around you. other people don’t recognize him when he’s being your rin. 

sometimes stares at you a little too long. you catch him. he looks away and mutters “shut up.” 

itoshi sae

you two look like enemies. emotionless stare vs sarcastic sighs. 

but then he wordlessly unties your hoodie strings because “you looked stupid.” 

texts you “.” when he wants attention. if you don’t answer, he sends “?” 

you call him “baby girl” in public just to piss him off. 

he flips you off. still lets you play with his hair later. 

he’ll literally insult your taste in music then send you a playlist titled “stuff you’d like.” 

“you look gross.” 

“thanks. it’s your shirt.” 

he says nothing because it actually is. 

you fell asleep on him once during a flight. he pretended to be annoyed but didn’t move for four hours. 

when you woke up, he just said “you drooled on me.” (but his phone has a picture of it. it’s his lock screen.)

karasu tabito

you flirt like it’s aggressive sparring. 

“you missed me?” 

“like i’d miss a rash.” 

constantly holds your chin when talking to you. it’s his way of annoying you. but your face gets warm every time and he lives for it. 

he’s always like “if we kissed right now, would it ruin the friendship?” 

you: “yeah.” 

him: “... worth it.” 

texts you “u up?” and then sends you a picture of your worst fashion crimes with the caption “jail.” 

you once dared him to kiss you “as a joke.” 

he did. it lasted too long. you were like “... weird.” 

him: “yup. wanna do it again?” 

he gives you a piggyback ride in public and then tells everyone you’re his emotional support gremlin. but no one else is allowed to say that but him. 

ness alexis

you once said “love you” before hanging up. he said “love you more” with no hesitation. 

you choked. he was unbothered. 

compliments you constantly and never acts like it’s weird. “you look gorgeous today.” 

you: “you said that yesterday.” 

him: “because it’s still true?” 

buys you matching things like mugs, necklaces, keychains. tells everyone you’re soulmates. 

when someone asks “are you dating?” he goes “not yet.” 

you laugh. he’s serious. 

always says “good morning beautiful” with a winky face. 

you threaten to block him. then text back “you too 💅” 

once asked you to rate his flirting. 

you: “4/10.” 

ness: “perfect. so you noticed it.” 

gets jealous when you mention other guys. won’t admit it. just messages you “i hope you choke” and then sends a heart. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[iydiamartinx]

THIS MEANS WAR II

Dick Grayson x Reader x Jason Todd

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 4.8k synopsis: Gotham’s youngest neuroscience lecturer never planned to get tangled up with two of its most eligible bachelors. Both are determined to win her over—without revealing they know each other… or that they’re vigilantes. But when the Joker takes an interest in her, things get a whole lot more complicated. a/n: I did not expect the amount of love the first chapter got in such a short amount of time, thank you to everyone who took the time to read, reblog and like the story! warnings: sexual innuendos, milo, tooth rotting fluff

GOTHAM UNIVERSITY 

You definitely regretted drinking the moment you dragged yourself into the university the next morning. Every step toward the lecture hall felt like an uphill battle against the thumping in your skull and the dull ache behind your eyes—a painful souvenir from the night before with Milo and Anthony.

But the headache wasn’t the only thing off.

As you strolled through the halls, something felt… strange. Eyes followed you. Smiles lingered longer than usual—both from staff and students alike. A few even nodded in greeting, like you were a celebrity instead of a perpetually tired lecturer with a coffee addiction and zero patience for idiocy before 10 a.m.

“Y/N!” a voice called.

You turned to see one of the biology professors leaning against the doorframe of his lecture hall, his eyes scanning you with a little too much interest. “Can I just say—you look good today.”

You blinked, confused. “Uh. Thank you?” you replied, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. You gave a stiff nod and turned away, hurrying to your own classroom. What the hell was that about?

You hadn’t even dressed up. Just your usual—black slacks, a long-sleeved blouse tucked in neatly, sensible shoes. Your hair was pulled back into a taut bun, and despite your best efforts with concealer, the dark circles under your eyes were still winning the war. You looked worse than usual, if anything. Hungover. Sleep-deprived. Mildly irritated at the world.

And yet…

Your students were acting odd too. Whispering. Staring. One of them winked as he passed by your desk. You blinked at him, uncertain whether you were still drunk or hallucinating from lack of sleep.

The questions today were unusually… stupid. Even for a Thursday.

And then, at the end of class, one of your students—one who had never said more than five words to you before—lingered near your desk.

“Listen,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just gotta say, I am totally down… if you are, Doctor.”

You stared blankly. “Down? Are you catching something?”

His cheeks flushed red. “No—I meant, um—uh, if you’re looking to, like, go on a date—uh, never mind!” He turned on his heel and all but ran from the room, babbling something incoherent.

But you heard it. Just one word.

Dating site.

Your stomach dropped.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, heart skipping a beat as you snatched up your phone and hurried into the hallway, dialing Milo’s number with shaky fingers.

He answered on the third ring, voice groggy. “Hello?”

“What the fuck did you do, Milo?” you hissed into the phone.

There was a pause, then an easy drawl. “Well hello to you too.”

“Milo!”

“Relax,” he said. “I’m doing the Lord’s work. That pussy is growing cobwebs down there and you know it.”

Your jaw dropped. “Please—please do not tell me you did what I think you did.”

“Alright,” Milo said breezily. “I won’t tell you.”

Then the line went dead.

You let out a strangled sound of protest, halfway between a scream and a groan. Before you could redial, your phone vibrated. A message.

One link.

You clicked it—and froze.

“Oh my god.”

There it was. Your face. Your full name. And a profile on some godforsaken dating app with a bio you definitely hadn’t written.

Name: Y/N

Age: Mid-twenties

Occupation: Lecturer

Orientation: Bi-curious

About Me: Former gymnast. Skilled in oral communication. Open-minded, flexible, and always up for a challenge.

Looking for: Something serious… or seriously fun ;)

“Oh my god.” You felt your soul leave your body.

You called Milo again, barely waiting for him to pick up before snapping, “What the hell is wrong with you?! Bi-curious? Gymnastics? Skilled in oral communication?!”

“What?” he replied, completely unfazed. “I didn’t lie. You were a gymnast. And your current job is lecturer. You do communicate. Orally. Often.”

“Bi-curious?” you exclaimed, staring at the profile in horror. “I'm not sure that's even an official orientation!”

“It means you’re flexible, babe,” Milo said, absolutely unbothered. “And hey—you never know, it might be a woman who saves that pussy.”

You gaped at your phone. “Milo—”

“Then we can be one of those powerfully gay couples,” he went on dreamily, “with their iconic gay best friend. Four of us. Taking over brunch. Matching vacation fits. It’s giving legacy.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “This isn’t a Hallmark Pride Month special.”

“Not yet. But give it time.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you growled. “I’m going to end you, slowly.”

“How about thank you?”

You dragged a hand down your face. “You just made everyone I work with—and every guy in my lecture hall—think I’m down to be their naughty professor fantasy!”

“Okay, first of all,” he said, “you teach university, not high school. They’re all consenting adults. Secondly, that’s just good branding. It means you’re open to role play.”

You inhaled slowly. “I’m not sleeping with one of my students.”you snapped. “That’s not just unethical—it’s gross! Have you ever read a university policy?”

“yes, yes, heard it all before, I don’t need to read policy.” he sighed dramatically. “Look, I’m just trying to help you find your future husband—or at the very least, get laid. You’ve been walking around like a haunted Victorian widow.”

“I don’t think my future husband is going to take me seriously when you’ve basically made me sound like a bisexual stripper with a PhD,” you groaned, scrubbing a hand down your face. Your eyes dropped to the profile again—specifically to the picture of you clinging to a pole at Milo and Anthony’s joint bachelor party. You were laughing, clearly drunk, mid-spin.

He had made that the cover photo.

“Milo, I swear to God—”

But then you absently tapped the notifications.

New matches: 7

You scrolled… paused.

And there it was.

A face that made your breath catch.

Messy black hair. Stupidly handsome. Jaw carved by angels—or the devil, you weren’t sure. Those bright, glacier-blue eyes that had no business looking so damn good in a dating profile.

Your mouth went dry.

“Well,” you muttered faintly, “speaking of Dicks…”

“Ooh, I know that tone,” Milo crooned through the phone. “Girl, if you don’t swipe right on him—”

You bit your lip, torn between common sense and sheer thirst. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t what? That man looks like he bench-presses women for sport.” Milo stated, clearly having pulled up your profile from wherever he was lounging. “If you don’t swipe, I will do it for you. Right the fuck now. Don’t forget—I have admin privileges.”

You hesitated. Your thumb hovered.

Your eyes flicked to his profile again.

Dick Grayson.

He really was unfairly attractive. Possibly the hottest man you’d ever seen.

“…Fine!” you huffed. “I’ll go on one date. One. Only because this man looks like he could make me forget my own name.”

“That’s my girl!” Milo whooped like a proud pageant mom. “Thank me later—preferably while holding one of his babies.”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Oh, and don’t forget—lingerie. And swallow, don’t—”

You hung up at that part, shaking your head—but you were grinning.

God help you.

DICK'S APARTMENT

Dick sighed, dragging a hand down his face. It had been almost ten hours since he and Jason made the discovery—and still, radio silence. No updates, no leads. Just a whole lot of waiting.

He’d given Jason the “don’t get too obsessed” speech, but the truth was, he was just as bad. Maybe worse. Their entire family had a toxic relationship with the word rest, especially when the Joker was involved. That clown had left more scars on them than anyone cared to admit.

Finally, unable to sit still, Dick pulled out his phone and hit call.

“Babs,” he said the moment she picked up, “any news on the case?”

Barbara sighed. “Nothing. Mancini was right about one thing—this guy who stole Joker’s formula? He’s a ghost. Even the Joker’s gone quiet. Bruce and Tim are still digging.”

“Great,” Dick muttered, jaw clenched.

“I know it sucks sitting around,” Barbara said gently. “But we still don’t have confirmation Mancini was telling the truth. You know that.”

“I know.” He rubbed at the tension building at the back of his neck.

There was a beat of silence before she asked, “Hey… when was the last time you actually went out?”

“I go out all the time,” he said defensively.

“Coming home to see your brothers doesn’t count. Neither does hanging out with the team. And don’t even try bringing up Wally.”

He huffed. “I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were,” she cut in, amused. “But seriously, Dick. When was the last time you did something for you? Had fun. Met someone.”

He exhaled slowly. “There’s no time for that. You know how this life works. It’s not exactly relationship-friendly.”

Barbara didn’t argue. It was the truth—and the reason they’d broken up in the first place. They might always be best friends, always care for each other, but the vigilante life was relentless. Demanding. Even with all their shared understanding, it hadn’t been enough to keep them together.

So Dick kept it casual. One night, rarely ever two. Just enough to feel human. Never enough to drag some poor unsuspecting person into his shit.

“But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” Barbara said, voice soft but firm. “You don’t always have to be Nightwing. Or the responsible older brother. You’re allowed to just be Dick sometimes.”

He let out a low groan. “At this rate, I am going to end up like Bruce.”

“Exactly,” she sighed. “And that is not a compliment.”

“Take that back.” He barked a short laugh, though it lacked bite. “If I end up like Bruce, put me down.”

“Only if you do something about it.”

“I want to. I do. But I can’t.” His voice dipped lower, more tired than he meant it to sound. “There’s just… no time for that stuff.”

“Well, now you’ve got some,” Barbara said, and he didn’t need to see her face to hear the grin curling in her voice.

Dick froze. Suspicion creeping in. “…Babs. What did you do?”

“Well, with the others still working to verify Mancini’s story and both Gotham and Blüdhaven being surprisingly quiet for once,” Barbara said lightly, “you, my friend, are officially off-duty.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “And that means… what exactly?”

“It means,” she continued with that too sweet tone, “you’re free to go out.”

He frowned. “Go out?” He could sense there was more. “Barbara, what did you do?”

“Oh, nothing too scandalous,” she replied airily. “Just… made you a dating profile.”

“You what?!” he barked, half standing from his chair.

“A very tasteful one,” she added quickly, clearly anticipating his outrage. “No shirtless gym selfies, no cheesy pick-up lines. I even used that photo of you from the Wayne Foundation gala last year—black suit, hair slicked back, looking all suave and charming.”

“Barbara,” he growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Relax! You look great. And I may or may not have… already swiped on someone for you.”

He rubbed at his temples, already feeling the headache forming. “Are you serious right now?”

“You said it yourself. There’s no time. So I’m helping speed along the process. Now you’ve got a reason to go out and be you. Besides, she’s very cute. And smart. You’ll like her.”

Dick groaned. “Babs, this is not—this isn’t—God.” He dropped his head into his hand. “You can’t just sign me up for this stuff.”

“I can and I did. You’re welcome.” 

“I’m beaming with gratitude,” Dick muttered dryly. “Look just cancel the stupid profile.”

“You can’t back out now,” she sing-songed. “It’s already confirmed. Six o’clock. At that bar you like—Brick & Ember.”

Dick let out a slow breath, already resigning himself to the inevitable. He wasn’t the type to ghost someone. Even if the date went south, he’d at least be polite. End things gently. No use in being a dick to some poor girl dragged into Barbara’s scheme.

“Well,” he muttered, “at least you picked a good place.”

“Actually,” Barbara said with a grin in her voice, “she suggested it.”

That made him pause. “…Oh.”

So she had good taste too.

“I haven’t even seen her profile.” He weakly argued.

“Well, maybe you should check your notifications.” Her tone dipped into that singsong territory that meant he had absolutely no escape.

Against his better judgment, Dick pulled his phone away and opened the app she’d clearly installed behind his back. There it was.

One new match.

He clicked it.

And then blinked.

Barbara smirked, already knowing. “Told you she’s cute.”

Dick stared at the profile, brows lifting slightly. She was cute. Striking, actually. Hair loose and open, a sharp jawline softened by a crooked smile in one picture, and in another—God, was she… dancing on a pole?

“What the hell is this photo?”

Barbara’s voice rang in his ear, smug and satisfied. “Told you. Thank me later.”

Before he could respond, the line clicked dead.

Dick sighed, but his eyes drifted back to your photo. His thumb hovered over your name. You were definitely his type. And for the first time in a long while, he actually curious to see how the night might go.

BRICK & EMBER

It was nearly six when Dick grabbed his jacket, heading for the door—only for his phone to buzz in his pocket. He checked the caller ID and sighed.

Jason.

He answered anyway. “What’s up, Little Wing?”

“Any updates?” Jason asked without preamble.

“None so far,” Dick replied, trying to keep his voice even. “I called Babs this morning. She promised to keep me posted.”

“How can you be so calm?” Jason snapped, frustration bleeding through the line. “The Joker is out there, and if what Mancini said is true, we cannot let him get his hands on that formula.”

Dick let out a slow breath. “I’m not as calm as you think, Jay. But until Bruce and Tim dig up something concrete, running around blind isn’t going to help.”

Jason wasn’t convinced. “We don’t have to sit on our asses. We could be out there now. Start shaking the tree. You know how this works. Someone always knows something—you just need to find the right branches to snap.”

“Give it one more day,” Dick said, his voice firm. “If Bruce and Tim don’t find anything by then, we’ll start digging too.”

The last thing he needed was Jason storming off on his own. Not with the Joker possibly in the wind. That wound was still raw—for Jason, for all of them. 

“Besides,” Dick added, “I can’t tonight.”

Jason paused. “Why not?”

“I have a date.”

There was a beat of silence.

“A date?” Jason said flatly. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Dick sighed, already regretting saying anything.

“There’s a chemical weapon on the loose, and the Clown Prince of Batshit is out there hunting God knows what—and you’re going out for tapas?”

“It’s not tapas—”

“You are the reason Bruce has high blood pressure,” Jason muttered darkly.

“First of all, that’s because of you and Damian,” Dick shot back. “And second—look, it’s one date. And if you want to point fingers, blame Barbara. She’s the one who signed me up for the damn dating site.”

Jason let out a short, incredulous snort. “Of course she did. That woman’s probably had a spreadsheet tracking your love life since college.”

“I wouldn’t be shocked if she wired me with a mic just to coach me through the date.”

Jason huffed—something between a laugh and a groan. “So who is it this time? Some socialite with a podcast? A yoga instructor with three divorces?”

Dick grinned. “Actually? She’s a doctor.”

Jason paused. “…Huh. You’re actually going out with someone smart and normal?”

“She teaches at Gotham U.”

“Damn. That’s hot.”

Dick chuckled. “See? You do support me.”

“I didn’t say I supported you,” Jason snapped. “I said she’s hot. Big difference.”

“Mhm,” Dick hummed, smug.

There was a pause. The silence sat for a beat, a little more relaxed now.

Then Jason muttered, “Just… keep your comm on, alright? I’ll be your back up if she turns out to be a psycho.”

Dick laughed under his breath. “Thanks, but I think I can handle dinner with a woman who isn’t actively trying to kill me.”

A beat.

“…Though in Gotham, that might be asking too much.”

Jason chuckled, low and dry. “Exactly. You attract chaos, Grayson. Don’t act surprised if she pulls out a flamethrower over appetizers.”

“If she does, I’ll send you a selfie.”

“Better yet, send me her number.”

“Jay.” Dick said, laughing now.

Jason snorted something that sounded dangerously close to affection before hanging up.

Dick glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Jason’s call had eaten through his buffer. Grabbing his jacket, he headed out in a rush, weaving through the evening crowd with practiced ease.

He was nearly at the bar when doubt started creeping in.

She sounded perfect. Too perfect. Jason might’ve been joking, but… what if she was a psycho? Or a catfish? Or worse—some bored cougar using decade-old filters and a killer photo angle?

God, if she turned out to be fifty and looking for a sugar baby, Jason would never let him live it down.

The closer he got, the more cautious his steps became. A part of him braced for the worst. There had to be a catch. There always was.

He exhaled and pushed the door open.

Warm light spilled out from within—amber glow, clinking glasses, low laughter threading through ambient music. His blue eyes swept the room, scanning past faces and tables, until they landed on you.

And just like that, the world stopped.

You weren’t a catfish. You weren’t a cougar. You weren’t fifty.

If anything, you were even more stunning in person—hair pulled back just enough to frame your face, posture relaxed but unmistakably poised, fingers curled around a glass you hadn’t touched in a while.

And as if you could feel him watching, you turned.

Your gaze met his. And then you smiled.

It hit him like a punch to the gut—warm, radiant, unexpected.

Yep.

There had to be a catch.

Because no one looked that good—not without hiding something.

He was five minutes late, and you were already beginning to regret letting Milo talk you into this ridiculous scheme. He could’ve been using fake pictures. He could’ve been an old man. Or a serial killer. Or, knowing your luck, both.

If your murder ended up on the evening news, you were going to haunt Milo’s ass for the rest of his damned life.

You were just about to talk yourself out of it—stand up, make a graceful exit, maybe fake a stomach bug—when the bar’s front door chimed open.

Instinctively, you turned.

And there he was.

Relief swept through you like a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Not a catfish. Not a creepy older man. Not a serial killer—probably. No, he looked exactly like his profile.

Actually… better.

You slid out of your seat as he approached.

He was taller than his profile made him seem—broad-shouldered in a fitted navy button-down, black jeans, and that kind of easy, confident walk that made it obvious he belonged anywhere he stepped. His dark hair was tousled just enough to look good without trying, and when his eyes met yours, he smiled.

Dimples. Of course he had dimples.

“You must be Y/N,” he said, voice warm, edged with something rougher—like he laughed often, but didn’t sleep enough.

You nodded, sliding your phone into your purse. “And you’re not secretly a 65-year-old retiree named Gerald. So we’re off to a good start.”

He grinned, quick and genuine. “Only on weekends.”

That earned a laugh from you—real, despite yourself. The bartender arrived, sliding two drinks across the bar, and you thanked him as you both began walking to take your seats.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” you said, tilting your glass toward him, teasing just enough to cover the fact that you’d almost bolted five minutes earlier.

“Traffic was a nightmare,” he replied smoothly, pulling out your chair before settling into his. “Also had to convince my brother I wasn’t walking straight into a potential kidnapping.”

You raised a brow, amused. “Protective, is he?”

He smirked. “Let’s just say he’s got trust issues. I think he genuinely expected you to be an arms dealer with a basement full of body bags.”

You sipped your drink. “So… not far off.”

That pulled a laugh from him.

You grinned. “Well, good to know I wasn’t the only one worried about that… wait—” you narrowed your eyes, leaning forward as if reconsidering, “you’re not a kidnapper, are you?”

He leaned back, one brow arched, eyes sparkling with amusement. “That depends. How do you feel about being lured into vans with puppies and free Wi-Fi?”

You snorted into your drink. “Honestly? That’s a tempting offer after the day I’ve had.”

“Noted,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “Next time, I’ll bring a golden retriever and a mobile hotspot.”

You shook your head, laughing. “You joke, but if you’d been five more minutes late, I was one panic spiral away from texting my best friend to start emotionally drafting my eulogy. He’s the reason I even have that damned profile, if we’re being fully transparent.”

“Well,” he said, lifting his glass slightly, “in the spirit of honesty—same. My best friend is also the reason I had a profile.”

You grinned. “Look at that. We already have more in common than I thought.”

“Mutual best friend peer pressure,” he said dryly. “Truly the bedrock of all great romances.”

You clinked your glass against his, smiling into the rim. “Still. I’m glad he pushed me. Even if I was convinced you were going to ghost me or try to sell me a timeshare.”

Dick smirked. “Oh, I considered it. But then I saw your profile and figured a neuroscientist would be smart enough to spot the pyramid scheme.”

“Smart enough, maybe,” you replied, eyes narrowing playfully. “But I stayed, didn’t I?”

His lips twitched. “Touché.”

He leaned forward just a little, forearms resting on the table, that easy charm sharpening slightly into curiosity. “So… how’s it going so far? On a scale from ‘tragic mistake’ to ‘might not fake an emergency text.’”

You made a show of considering it. “Hmm… somewhere between ‘free food is free food’ and ‘I might actually want to see how this ends.’”

He laughed, low and genuine. “I’ll take it. That’s progress.”

A beat passed. Not awkward. Just…Comfortable.

He leaned in slightly, the teasing softening in his voice. “You seem like someone who doesn’t usually do this kind of thing.”

Your smile faded just a touch, replaced by something quieter. “I don’t. Not really.”

“No horror date stories, then?”

Oh, I have one,” you said, arching a brow. “Three years of one.”

That surprised a laugh out of him, though the look in his eyes shifted—warm, attentive. “Oof. Long-term horror.”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’ lightly. “But it taught me a lot. Like how to spot a red flag… and never trust a man named Jake.”

Dick laughed, eyes glinting. “Jake, huh? Should I be worried?”

You narrowed your gaze playfully. “Not unless you’re hiding bleached hair and have an ego the size of Wayne Tower under that charm.”

He grinned. “Good news—definitely not blonde. And the ego?” He leaned in just a little, voice dipping playfully. “Mostly under control. Depends on the lighting.”

You laughed. “Ah, so it swells at golden hour. Noted.”

“Only if someone’s complimenting my jawline.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned, but you were smiling. “I walked into this, didn’t I?”

He raised his glass again, eyes glinting. “And now you can’t walk out. Social contract and all.”

You sipped your drink, still grinning. “You’re more charming than I expected.”

“Most people expect broody or boring,” he said with a shrug. “So I like to keep ‘mildly delightful’ in my back pocket.”

“Mildly delightful,” you echoed, amused. “That’s your official rating now.”

“I’ll take it,” he said with mock pride. “Could be worse. So…” He tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Tell me—what makes a brilliant, sharp, slightly intimidating neuroscientist swipe right on a guy with two pictures and a suspiciously short bio?”

You smiled, but this time it carried a note of honesty beneath the humor. “Because he didn’t try too hard. No gym selfies. No weird filters. And his first message actually had punctuation. That’s rare, you know.”

“High standards.”

“I work with brains,” you said simply. “I tried settling once. Never again.”

He gave a small nod, his smile thoughtful now. “A woman who knows what she wants—I respect that.”

It was your turn to tilt your head, curiosity glinting behind your grin. “Alright—your turn. What made you agree to this date? Because I saw the profile Milo made for me and—look, it was a disaster. For the record, I do not make a habit of dancing on poles. That was one time. At his bachelor party. Too many drinks. I got dared.”

He laughed, full and unguarded, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re telling me that wasn’t a career aspiration?”

“Shocking, I know,” you said dryly. “My dreams of becoming a neuroscientist-pole-dancer hybrid never quite took off.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.” He leaned in a little, expression mock-serious. “I was really banking on a lap dance over dessert.”

You nearly choked on your drink, snorting. “That's implying i stay long enough for dessert.”

“Then I guess I better make the main course memorable to convince you,” He smirked, leaning back just slightly, before the humor in his expression giving way to something softer. “But for the record?” A pause. “It was your eyes.”

That made you blink. “My eyes?”

He shrugged, but there was something sincere in his voice now. “Your eyes stood out. They were open. Genuine. Not guarded or jaded like most people in this city. That kind of thing’s basically extinct in Gotham.”

You blinked.

And okay, maybe the wine was hitting, or maybe it was the way he said it—casual but genuine—but your heart did something.

“Don’t ruin it now,” you said lightly, recovering with a smile. “That was dangerously close to poetic.”

“I have layers,” he said, lifting his glass in a lazy half-toast.

“Clearly.”

He smiled again—slower this time. Less of a flirt, more of a study. “I like people who don’t bullshit. You strike me as someone who cuts through it.”

You tapped your glass against the table lightly. “Only when I’m not too busy overanalyzing everything within a five-mile radius.”

“Perfect,” he said, finishing the last of his drink. “You overanalyze. I underreact. Balance.”

You raised your glass. “A healthy relationship dynamic if I’ve ever heard one.”

Dick was utterly smitten by the end of the night.

You were everything he wanted—and nothing he’d expected.

He’d known you were brilliant going in—your profile, however chaotic, couldn’t hide that—but what caught him off guard was everything else. The dry wit. The unapologetic honesty. The way you didn’t flinch from teasing him, even when he gave as good as he got.

You weren’t trying to impress him. You weren’t putting on a act like some of the socialites he’d went out with. You were just you—sharp, bold, genuine—and it was the most refreshing thing he’d felt in a long, long time.

Which was why, when the check had been paid and the last of the drinks were gone, he found himself reluctant to leave. Not literally dragging his feet—but close.

“I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much without having to dodge bullets,” he said as you both stepped out into the cool Gotham night.

You grinned, tugging your coat tighter. “Gotham’s highest standard for a good evening.”

He glanced at you, that crooked smile creeping in again. “I mean it. This was… really nice.”

You gave a softer smile this time. “Yeah. It was.”

A small beat of silence passed—once again not awkward, just content.

Then he cleared his throat. “So… I don’t usually say this on first dates—”

You smirked. “That sounds promising.”

“—but I want to see you again.”

You arched a brow. “That’s not scandalous, Dick.”

“I just mean—” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “usually I don’t care if there’s a second date. With you, I do.”

Your smile widened, but your voice stayed light. “Well, lucky for you… I don’t usually give second chances.”

He blinked, caught somewhere between amused and confused.

You took your phone out, holding it up between you. “But I’m willing to make an exception.”

He chuckled, pulling his own phone from his pocket and handing it over without hesitation. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

You tilted your head. “Only if you’re lucky.”

Phones were exchanged, numbers saved. As he handed yours back, his fingers brushed yours—just briefly—but the moment lingered.

“I’ll text you,” he said, voice a shade lower now.

You hesitated just a second, like you were weighing something—then stepped forward.

Leaning up onto your toes, your lips brushed the edge of his jaw, featherlight.

You pulled back, biting your lip as if trying to hold back a smile.

“I hope you do,” you murmured.

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[sydwritess]

You Want It, You Got It

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Summary: You and charles are out on a coffee date before your self care day. When charles finds out another man bought you your drink. He instantly tries to prove himself as better.

Second Person POV

You and Charles were in a local coffee shop, having a quick little date before you went of on your self care day.

"I'm going to get a drink before we head out." You say, the both of you standing from your table.

"Okay." He says, reaching in his pocket, pulling out his card and handing it to you.

You smile and playfully roll your eyes, taking it as he walks outside.

"Hi, can I get a dragon fruit refresher, please?" You ask the cashier. She nods and starts getting the drink together.

An idea popped into your head, pranking Charles before you leave. The cashier hands you your drink, you pay and make your way outside to Charles.

"Hey." You say happily.

"Hey, happy you got your coffee?" He asked, grabbing your hand.

"Yeah! Some guy even offered to pay for it. Isn't that sweet?" You say, taking a sip of your drink.

"Wait... what?"

"Yeah, I told him I had a card but he said no pretty girl should pay for her own drink. That's like the sweetest thing ever." You say, pretending your melting just talking about it.

"Who is this man?" He asks, stopping in front of you, facing you.

"Oh I'd don't know."

"And you excepted it?"

"Yeah! He was so nice!"

"He offered to pay for your drink when you had my card."

"Yeah, I guess." You said, biting your tongue trying to laugh.

"Mon amour, you don't need some man to pay for your drink when you got me right here." He says gently, looking in your eyes.

"I will pay for everything you ask me to. Don't throw yourself at some man for a drink." He says. That's when you burst out laughing.

"What- what is so funny?"

"You. You're too sweet. It was just a prank baby." You say, putting a hand gently on his face.

"That's rude." He says, his frown cracking into a smile. "I'm still better though."

"I know you are." You say, gently kissing him.

"I am going make sure you know how much I love you." He says.

"Oh really?"

"Really. I will pay for everything you do today." He says.

"No you won't-"

"Yes, I will. Did you forget I'm an f1 driver? I make millions!" He says sarcastically, with a small laugh.

"Oh, right, of course." You saying, matching his energy.

"Right, so what are we doing today?"

"Charles, you're not spending your money on me."

"I never said anything about that. I want to see what your self care day involves bébé."

"Okay, fine. First, I'm getting my hair done." You say. He nods in approvement and and grabs your hand, walking along with you.

You both reach your hair salon in a quick time. It was a small singular studio. You open the door, Charles following in right behind you.

"Hey T." You say.

"Y/n! Good to see you." She says, walking up to you and hugging you.

"You can go sit over there, I'll get your color ready." She said. You nodded and sat in the chair.

"Your dying your hair?" Charles asked, pulling up a chair next to you.

"Yeah. I usually get it black." You say.

"How did I not know this?" He asks.

"Your to busy 'making million.'" You tease.

"Right. Of course." He says, smirking. Just then T comes over and starts working on my hair.

"So, what's been up? Haven't seen you in a while." She says, looking at you through the mirror.

"I've been really busy actually. Work and everything. Apparently I have a new boyfriend to, so that's nice." You say, you can see Charles looking at you out of the corner of your eye.

"Oo, girl you need to spill the tea now." She says.

"Well, my dear, just fantastic boyfriend, who is acting all innocent over there, thinks I have a new boyfriend. But it was a prank. So yeah." You trailed off.

"Oh yeah, I did that to my man one time... didn't go well." She mumbled at the end.

"See, and I'm sure whoever her boyfriend is was also, pretty upset." Charles said.

"Yes he was. But it was worth it." T said.

"So what's going on with him?" You ask.

"He broke up with me."

"What? Why?"

"I have no idea. He just ghosted me." She said sadly.

"Ew. What a weird thing to do."

"Right?"

"I swear." You say, taking a sip of your drink. "Men are so... just about themselves, it's unreal. It's like, I'm sorry you have a big glass-made ego?" You joke.

"Right! Like seriously." She says. Charles looked dumb-founded from his chair.

"Don't worry babe. Not about you." You say, slightly looking at him. He nods with a smile.

About and hour later, after letting the color settle, and washing it out, your back in the chair, going over your haircut.

"So, what are we doing with it?" T asks.

"Just cut the dead ends off." You say.

"Okay, and what about the style?"

"I was thinking like four small braids here. Like Dutch braids." You say, pointing to the top of your head. "And into a high ponytail."

"Cute, I love that." She says happily. She grabs her scissors and quickly cuts your hair, taking the dead ends off as needed.

Once she got done with that, she started parting and putting gel in your hair, and starting the braids. She quickly got done with them, put your hair up into a ponytail and did the last finishing touches.

"You all set." She said, walking over to the counter.

"Thanks. This looks great." You say, walking with her.

"That'll be 280.00 today." She said. I look over at Charles to see his eyes widened as he takes out his card.

"You sure you can handle it? That look gives it away." You tease.

"Of course I can." He said, handing his card to T.

"There, your all good. Have a great day." She smiled. You said your goodbye's and left the salon.

"Two-hundred and eighty dollars. I practically get my hair done for free!" He says, pointing out into the open.

"That's because your mom does it for you." You laugh out.

"Right, but still. You should get her to do it." He suggested.

"I love your mom, but no." You say.

"Fair. Where next?" he asked.

"I'm getting my nails done." You say.

"Okay." He said. You both walked through town, getting to the nail salon.

"Are these like the people we see in America?" He asked.

"Almost. Eric's nice. You'll like him" You say.

"Eric? Like... a guy?"

"Yes a guy. don't worry. He's married."

"Right, of course." He says, a small smile appearing on his lips.

"Don't be jealous. It's okay." You say, grabbing his hand.

"I never would be." He says.

You eventually got to the nail salon. Walking in to see Eric and his client in there, again a single person salon.

"Hi y/n. I'll be right with you." He says, checking out his last client. You nodded and went to his chair while he was at the register.

"Okay girl, what are we thinking today?" He asked, coming to sit down across from you.

"A long, square, black French tip with like a red line at the top, like at the start of the black." You say, he nods and get's to work. You see Charles looking at you from the couch by the window.

You lean closer to Eric as he takes off the old gel.

"Can you play a prank on my boyfriend?" You ask.

"Hmm, sure." He says.

"Wait, you want the hard gel right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, continue."

"Can you say some absurd price for each singular nail your about to do?" You whisper.

"Girl I got you." He says. He takes around five minutes to get the old gel off and dusts your nails off.

"Okay, so all new hard gel, plus the extension is going to be thirty dollars a nail. Is that okay?" Eric asks, extra loudly. Just then Charles comes up behind your seat.

"Can you repeat that?" He asks, sitting next to you.

"Thirty dollar a nail."

"Uh- I um... okay, yes, that's perfect." Charles says hesitantly. Scratching the back of his neck.

You couldn't help but laugh at him a little.

"No because that's a great price right?" Charles asks. By then, Eric couldn't help but laugh a little to.

"I don't know. Is it?" You repeat.

"Well, I'm not sure." Charles says.

"It's a joke. It's like... well I'm not sure. I just get it done and pay whatever." You say.

"Wonderful. We'll go with whatever you normally price then." Charles says.

"For this, around.... hm, I think 110."

"110! Okay- I suppose it's reasonable." He says.

"Would you like me to pay darling." You ask, looking over at Charles.

"No, no I got this." He says, putting his hands up.

"Whatever you say."

"You seem tense." eric said, looking at Charles.

"Right? You should give him a massage."

"I could, if you want." Eric says seriously.

"No-"

"And give him the happy ending to." You joke.

"What- what is that?" Charles asks.

"Oh you know... the happy ending." You say, he thinks about it and then clocks it.

"No! No I'm okay. I will stay right here." He says, a nervous smile on his face. You couldn't help but laugh again.

Eric started putting on the hard gel, until it was all shaped.

"Okay, put your hand under. Wait until you feel burning." He says. You do exactly that and take your hand back out.

"Burning?" Charles questions.

"Yeah, the UV like sucks out the chemicals from the gel." You say. He nods in surprise.

Eric continued working on your nails, shaping them, soaking them, the whole works.

He finally got done with the polish around and hour later, and you all stood up and went to the counter.

"110.00 today." He said, Charles handed him his card. He paid and we walked out back into town.

"It that all that includes in your self care day?" He asks, grabbing your hand.

"Yes."

"Thank God. I think I went bankrupt." He said, smiling.

"Hey, you offered. You and your millions." You say.

"Don't worry. I have enough money for next week." He says.

"Next week?"

"Yeah. When do you go back?" He asks.

"Every two weeks for my nails, and every month for my hair."

"Oh, right."

"Don't worry. I won't make you pay." You say, stopping with him.

"If I don't pay, then don't let any man buy you your drinks." He says.

"Don't worry. I won't." You say. Leaning into him, kissing him gently.

"Good, and if they try, show them this." He says, pulling his card out.

"Why's that?"

"My name's on it. So they'll know your mine." He says, kissing you again.

"Possessive huh?"

"Protective." He said, grabbing your hand and continued walking with you.

Hey loves! Hope you like this one! Comment to be added to the tag list!