#[Dick just out here trying not to laugh at the entire situation and be the responsible one for five minutes XD]

[dramatisperscnae]

@thegirlwondcr [x]

"Okay, first off--thank you, thank you, thank you." Emma started off, trying to ease into actually answering his question. "Also, you are my favorite brother, I don't know if I've ever told you that, but you are." This seemed like the best way to approach this. The happier he was, the more chances she had of Bruce never knowing about this. The crime? Embarrassment, to say the least. A misunderstanding that escalated way too quick, that probably would have never happened if she had never been trained as Robin. "I was just getting a few snacks at this convenience store. Because there are just some snacks Alfred will refuse to get me because he says they are way too unhealthy, but sometimes it is just nice to have an overprocessed snack full of dye." Emma justified before actually getting into the crime at hand. "Well, I bought some snacks and on my way out some random customer said 'Hey you didn't pay for that' when after I just did that. So naturally, I argued with him, and then he reached over to me to which I then punched him in the face because I thought he was trying to attack me or something. Then he punches back, and then we are just punching back and forth until the cops showed up..." Then she hesitated, embarrassment and regret clear on her face. "Turns out I had left a pack of crackers in my pocket..." "But you have to promise not to tell Bruce about it, he will bench me for an entire year. You also can't tell Alfred because then he's going to just make me eat vegetables nonstop for the next six months." She begged of her brother. "Nobody got hurt! Well except for the guy--but broken noses can heal! And I can cover all my bruises in concealer or just say I fell off the bleachers like five times."

Quite honestly, it was all Dick could do to keep a straight face as Emma launched into her explanation. He hadn't really cared why she'd been at that convenience store - if she wanted snacks she could have snacks, he wasn't going to tell her no considering his own eating habits would probably have Alfred giving him a lecture on proper nutrition if the man ever found out - he'd been more interested in why she'd been in a fight.

Turned out, the story was so incredibly facepalm worthy Dick really had to fight not to laugh. An overreaction of epic proportions that, honestly, as a lone girl on Gotham streets, Dick couldn't entirely fault her for; strange men grabbing for you would make anyone react, and some people's fight-or-flight only had one setting. Add in an accusation of theft and, well, it was almost understandable.

Almost.

The good thing was that Emma seemed to understand she'd fucked up. By rights Dick ought to be delivering the lecture he knew Bruce probably would, about responsibility and reasonable application of force and all that jazz, but quite honestly Emma seemed fully aware of what she'd done and why she'd been in the wrong here. Mostly, anyway. And she'd almost certainly be getting that lecture from Bruce anyway once the man heard about it; Emma was incredibly naive to think it wouldn't get back to him somehow.

"You honestly think you got dragged down to GCPD Central and Commissioner Gordon isn't gonna hear about it?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow. "And once he hears about it, Bruce definitely will. This not even getting into the fact that since Bruce is your legal guardian he's probably already been notified anyway even though you called me to come get you." No, there was no way Bruce wasn't going to know about this. What there could be was Dick on Emma's side to try and soften whatever punishment might be coming.

"Look, you know you fucked up, right?" he asked. "Forget about should'ves and shouldn'ts, you know you fucked up, right? Maybe the guy could've handled his side better, but you going right to violence?" That wasn't how Bruce trained her. Dick knew that for certain. Especially in civilian life, de-escalation should be the immediate go-to.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

Hey so can we get some zoro, law, kid, and Luffy (because why not) with bratty!reader (I think Luffy in this situation would be interesting)

i wish i could write kid. i wish. but i cannot. it saddens me deeply every night and every morning and all the hours in between. but other than that, you've got it chief 🫡 enjoy your filth mwuah <3

🌙thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace n' law! vs BRAT!

ALEXA PLAY THE ENTIRE BRAT ALBUM BY CHARLI XCX. 'S TIME FOR A BRAT THEMED POST. [NOT PROOFREAD, OKAY? OKAY.] cw: pussydrunk men. bratty reader. nsfw thoughts include: idk man they fuck you, so, penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, blowjob, they're very cock(y) hahaha. MDNI OR YA BETTER SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN TONIGHT. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: doesn't that excite ya?

❤️who even is monkey d. luffy if he doesn't enjoy a little bit of a challenge? so, go on. try to rile him, tease him, trying to make him bend to your whims and wishes. it's all things he enjoys, afterall. thoroughly, at that. ❤️you scoff, arms trained against your chest as if to tempt him with the lewd display, "like i said, go alone. i don't wanna visit the island with you." luffy grins, something free and boyish, "but it'll be boring without you, y'know that, right?" you try to shake him off, try to really shake off his arms snaking around your waist as he pulls you to him. he face drops down to your pulse, hot n' humid breath dancing against the light heartbeat in a sickening manner. ❤️ his arm tightens around you and his teeth nips against your skin dangerously, as if the captain of your ship was betting his sanity on your next words. but again, don't you love to rile him up? "t'wasn't boring when you were ignoring me?" you huff breathily, trying to push him away with a pathetic shove that just makes him laugh, "that? i was busy this morning, peach." "stay busy with ussop, then. go kiss him while you're at it, idiot." you push him again, trying to rid yourself of your clingy man. he just sniffs in the lingering scent of your sweet shampoo. then sighs into you, "you just love making me chase you, dont'cha?" "okay, then." his voice deepens, as if he just got the answer to your tantrum right now. arms stretching against you to hold you tightly to his chest, picking you up easily just to throw you on the bed, "wha- luffy!" your body recoils against the cushiony mattress as you stare up at the raven-headed boy, but he just grins at your momentarily immobile state, "what? let me make it upto ya, c'mon." ❤️now that luffy has you moaning into the pillow, rutting back into him so very helplessly; your voice worn out from the screaming, your hands fisting unforgivingly against the linen under you and your body aching from his unfaltering movements, he better not hear any more whines from you, brat. "d-did i make it up to, yet?" his voice climbs up a octave, all breathy and high as you spasm around his dick, "s- hah seems like you're having the time of your life— ngh, pretty girl."

🍀roronoa zoro: professional marine hunter brat tamer!

💚don't be fooled, roronoa zoro loves when you get like this. this means you get all pouty, all huffy, all annoyed at all his usual tactics. this means you're gonna try to get back at him until he has your face pressed down into the mattress as he fucks into you from behind. yeah, zoro loves this. 💚"say that again." the swordsman hums, "what was that?" "i said if you love your swords so goddamn much, go fuck 'em instead." and the man rolls his eyes in response, "was training then. i'm here now, aren't i? whatd'ya want, woman?" you huff, averting your sharp gaze from him, "nothing." and he knows this conversation like the back of his hand. the same dialogues imprinted into his head, the same gameplay, the same cat-mouse chase that's gonna end with your pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his cock. 💚"still nothing?" zoro hums, half-serious, except for the fact that he his hips piston into your warm, inviting mouth. your nails dig into his thighs, eyes looking up at him, pleading. and though zoro isn't benevolent, he pulls his erection backwards till it rests heavily against your bottom lip, "think you can speak clearly now? wanna tell me why exactly are you behaving like a fucking brat?" "s-shut up." you hiss and he hums satisfactorily at the rasp in your easy-going tone, "ah," he nudges the tip past your lips and you open just like you were waiting for him to do that, "seems like you need a little more to start sayin' what's on your mind." you hum against his dick. words reduced to nothing but primal sounds as he pushes his hips into your with purpose. he pushes into you as his tip hits the back of your throat so sinfully, and the man above you groans, "a-ah, fuck. forgot how good you take me." 💚he groans similarly, his broad hands tangling in your sweaty locks as he guides you over his cock. his hips snap faster, eyebrows furrowing in sheer concentration and soon enough, the familiar salty liquid slides down your throat. you're spluttering as he pulls his weeping cockhead backwards. as you look up at him; a divine mess of sweat, cum and your tears, zoro cannot help but quip up, "think you can speak now?" "f-fuck... you." you rasp and the swordsman guides you upwards through the iron-grip he has on your hair, "looks like you can't yet, brat. in that case, let me help."

🌊vinsmoke sanji: what if i just shut you up real, real good?

💙vinsmoke sanji was nobody if not a defender of womens' rights and wrongs. he would never even dream to shut you up but oh lord, maybe this one time will be the exception. maybe. 💙"no, i don't wanna." you huff the same sentence out again and sanji swears he almost pulls you to the bed to fuck some sense into you. he tries again, "my love, you gotta eat." "i don't have to do anything you say." you hiss, eyes narrowing at the overworked chef, "don't tell me what to do after flirting with that shopkeeper." "i just made polite chit-chat—" he really tries to defend himself but you roll your eyes, pouting at the same explanation he's given five hundred times over, "save it." ofcourse, what other route did he have other than to remind you with his actions that you were the only brat he was entertain? 💙"believe me now?" sanji mumbles momentarily, parting your thighs with his skilled hands as he experimentally sticks out his tongue to collect your honeydew on the tip, "mhm, divine." "thi-this doesn't get you off the n— hook." your head is thrown back, lips parting as he pulls you down on him completely and delves his experienced muscle into your opening. the cook hums as if he's experiencing nirvana through you and your taste, and you just grind down at him in return. "that's right—" the blonde hums, his fingers digging deeper against your plushy fat on your hips, "let me have it all, darling." "y-you're so lame, s-sanji!" your voice jumps up several octaves as he brings his tongue to your neglected clit. flicking it, he soothes the mean action with a soft lick, completely forgetting if he were to reply you. 💙it isn't till your fourth shuddering orgasm that has sanji drenched under you that you really start begging him to stop, "s-sanji, no." "what?" the man grins, his blonde stubble catching the dew against them as he looks at you, "believe me now?" "y-yes." you nod furiously as your cunt clenches around air, overtsimulated and exposed, "i-i am, i pr-promise ah, ah!" "good," the chef smiles at you so innocently, his thumb gently pressing against your throbbing clit, "let's make sure you keep that promise, love. right?"

🦋portgas d. ace: i want in on it, baby!

🧡see, you think you can be a brat? hah, no way. not while your boyfriend, portgas d. ace exists. see, how can you be the brat if he's playing along with you? 🧡ace coos, his muscular arms tucked behind his head as he pouts, "my baby's not gonna talk to me? why not?" "go ask the other crew-mates, since youmarc-oh." your jaw slacks open, lips falling into an 'o' as ace humps his short-clad pelvis into your core. he smirks, taking in your appearance, "sorry, didn't quite catch that. ask who?" "ace, you asshole! i... ah—" you whine, hips stuttering pathetically over his pelvis as you try to find even a hairsbreadth of friction. the man underneath just seems to enjoy your dilemma thoroughly, though. are you gonna stay pouty n' mad or are you gonna bat your eyelashes down at him and ask him to fuck you?? 🧡seems like the the former. "'m not gonna exp-explain mysel-f! fuck off." your head lolls backwards at his mean thrust against you. you two are in the same position you were hours back; his arms wrapped around your waist, his clothed erection against your wettened patch of cloth, and his unyielding rolls against your wet cunt. wasn't it as brutal to him as it was for you?! "really?" ace's eyebrows furrow and he scoffs, somewhat impressed with your resilience, "pretty, i don't think you understand. i can do this for hours." and from the way he smiles all dopey and satisfactorily, you don't doubt his words. not at all. you huff, erratic eyes falling on the easy-going man under you, "wh-what do you want, ugh?!" "i just want my pretty-" his thumb swipes across your parted, bottom lip, "pretty girl to tell me what she wants without being a bitch about it." "i want nothing." you huff, unyielding even as ace gives you a pointed look. he draws in a sharp breath, eyes hardening with resolve, "okay then, looks like i'd have to fuck it out of you, then." he grins as he shifts your weight and pins you down, "not that i'm complaining, obviously." it's only after he has had you cumming on his dick the third time that you babble out, hiccupping, "y-you're always so busy, ace. i don' like it." "awh, that's it?" the man above you speaks softly even as he presses his fingers together to squish your cheeks, "should've told me, gorgeous. i would've taken care of it way sooner." and maybe, maybe you were imagining things in your delirium or ace has this sadistic glint in his eyes as he says his next words, "good thing i can just make it upto ya, isn't it?"

🪻trafalgar d. water law: not his first rodeo, nor his last.

💜see, technically, you should be grateful that your boyfriend: trafalgar law even put up with you despite his rising blood pressure and headaches. does that mean you'd be nice to him? no. not when being a brat is sooo much more fun. 💜"law-ugh" the two words blend seamlessly as you stare down your boyfriend and he peers up at you through the rim of his glasses, "what now?" "would it kill you to hang out with me, huh?" you huff, taking a seat in front of his desk as you pout at him. you try to bat your eyelashes, only for it to be in vain as the doctor focuses on those wretched paperwork in front of him again. he sighs, "i wouldn't phrase it so strongly, but something like that." "law!" you whine and he almost smiles. almost. "i'm busy right now, i'll see to you later, okay?" "no, law, you always do this!" your hands come down hard on the wooden table and a rattle shakes through the room at your outburst. everything seems just a teensy bit strained, everything except law. he just looks up at you eerily calm, "throwing a tantrum, are you?" "maybe...?" your words stagnate on the tip of your tongue. but as you see law lean back in his seat, the metallic rim of his glasses catching the overhead lighting so maliciously, you smile. bingo. "'s not a tantrum, captain. jus' being honest." 💜 well, that honesty was getting fucked out of you right now. your wrists tied to the arm of his seat, your thighs parted open and his skillful fingers curling within you as your eyes rolled. ugh, that honesty was long gone. "are you done?" law asks so casually, as if he wasn't fucking your gummy walls till you writhed helplessly against the leather, "are you done throwing a tantrum?" "not. a. tantrum." you hiss, trying to sound more put-together than you actually were. and who were you trying to fool? the doctor who could tell from your reddened face and panting, quivering lips just how utterly wrecked you were? "alright, if you insist." law speaks again, unhurried as he pulls his drenched fingers outwards. your essence shines against his long digits as he passes it past your wobbling lips, "guess i'd have to try another way." you hear his belt chime as he draws it open, "ready, brat?"

a/n: tumblr literally posted this halfway without my concern so this is me re-posting it. if you saw that, then, NO you didn't. shut up. go back to reading smut. shhh, it never happened. taglist: @mist-ixx @starlightanyaaa @otkuhotgirl @bokutosbiceps @kingofthe-egirls m.list

[igotanidea]

Stretching time: Dick Grayson x reader

Request: I can't stop thinking about how would be Dick's girlfriend with all the batboys, specially Damian, maybe reader and Damian would be like best friends and he's always at Dick's apartment to see her. I would love to see how do you think this would be <3

***

“I swear this is like he doesn’t have a Manor to live in” Dick sighed theatrically, taking a sip of his drink, which happened to be the most colorful one on the menu.

“I suppose we are talking about Damian today?” Wally, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, casually popping chips into his mouth.

“He’s just always at our place! And Y/N—” Dick shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. Y/N. His wonderful, beautiful, smart girlfriend with a heart of gold, making friends wherever she went. Too good for his world, stubborn and consistent in breaking Damian’s defenses. And while at first, Dick even encouraged her in her attempts, treating it like a dare, knowing she’ll never succeed, now he was getting angry because she actually reached her objective. Becoming bffs with Damian Wayne. Well – as much as an assassin and a vigilante’s girlfriend can be.

“Please don’t tell me you are jealous of a 12 year old, Grayson!” Wally laughed so hard she choked on his snack.

“You crazy? Jealous? Me? Never!”

“Yeah, right. Never-” the speedster laughed again, silently calling Dick off on the bullshit he was trying to feed him with.

“Look man, it’s not like you have an entire family that steals your girlfriend away from you!”

“Well, I wouldn’t let them in the first place—”

“You’re not helping!”

“Would it help If I point out how much of a hypocrite you are, Dick?”

“No! Wait- what? A hypocrite?” Dick raised his head from the table where he previously laid it to accentuate the drama of the situation. And then frowned. And then tilted his head to the side. “Hypocrite, seriously, Wally?”

“You keep talking how Y/N has too soft heart while you are the proverbial older brother always trying to please his siblings-“

“That’s not true!” Dick’s objection was almost immediately cut by Wally’s mocking gaze, almost threatening to use all the examples of the thesis he had in store “Okay, fine! Fine! But those are my brothers, what am I supposed to do?!”

“For starters, maybe you shouldn’t run away to the bar every time Damian comes around?”

“But-“

“Get freaking involved! Your girlfriend is having a good relationship with your siblings. That’s terrible news, truly, I pity you.” Wally mocked, rolling his eyes.

“You just don’t seem to understand! Let me tell you the whole story again—”

“Oh, no, please, spare me going through it all over—”

“It all started a week ago-“

“From what I remember one week ago she went to some kind of reading with Jason?”

“Yes! And from then everyone just started to drive her away!”

“You’re overreacting-“

“Overreacting?! Do you want to listen how she keeps on working with Tim and –”

“NO!”

“Let me tell you then-“

“Whoa! Stop! You know what I think, Dick? I think you should go home and actually talk to her, instead of me.”

“So now you’re abandoning me too?!”

“Abandoning? Oh no, no, no. I’ll be even as kind as to drop you home.”

“What are you- NO!”

He really hated traveling with speedsters. There was never any comfortable position for that, and after he always felt like throwing up.

But there was no denying that it was the fastest way home, even if climbing up the stars turned into a little bit of a challenge for the Nightwing.

***

Obviously, Damian was there with her.

Not really doing anything, just sitting on the couch, staring into space, having one of his moments of vulnerability that took the form of keeping complete silence.

And that silence was not Dick’s ally cause it made them both hear him coming inside.

“I thought you were out with Wally?” Y/N smiled and raised from the spot to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“West?” Damian turned his head in curiosity

“Well hello to you too, Damian. What brings you here today?” Dick hissed, before biting his tongue, earning a little pat on the back of the head from Y/N.”

“Ouch! That hurt. More my feelings than my head, but still.”

“Good. Dami is our guest and—”

“He’s becoming more of a permanent fixture…”

“Dick!”

“Ugh!”

“Should we take this conversation private?” she muttered, frowning and putting hands on her hips. “Or can you go back to being the Dick Grayson I know? The one who can keep his heart and mind open? Please?” She gave him a soft look and a pretty smile. “Come on, it will be fun…”

How could he say no to those eyes…

***

An hour later he started to think that maybe Wally was right. And that maybe his girlfriend was a sorceress.

Otherwise, how else could anyone explain the sudden Damian’s transition from an assassin into a 12 year old almost kid?

He was just talking to her about everything. His school, his friends, his latest picture. Not the emotions, it was not that advanced kind of magic, but just watching those two, feeling so at ease with each other was something supernatural.

And at some point, Damian just gave Y/N a look and she immediately knew what it meant, turning to Dick who was observing them both from a safe distance, amused by the little bubble Damian and Y/N seemed to create around themselves and a little scared to disrupt their peace.

“Hey, dick? Can you leave us for a moment? We got something to discuss with Damian.”

“And I have to go?”

Damian scoffed under his nose as if it wasn’t obvious that he wasn’t going to talk about anything personal with his brother around.  

“Pretty please?” Y/N smiled at her boyfriend, leaving Dick no choice but to retrieve to the bedroom.

“So, what’s been eating my favorite bat up?”

“Y/n…’ Damian sighed, allowing himself a little bit of emotionality “do you think I could ever have what you and Dick do?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, don’t push it.”

“If you are talking about girls—” she started and her words were disrupted by a hiss from the boy, who was clearly dissatisfied she actually dared to say it out loud “you’re only 12 Damian. And as much as you hate to let it show, people can tell that you care. In your own twisted way, but if someone watches close enough it’s clear. So I don’t think there’s any reason for you to get uptight about it.”

“I’m not uptight!” he crossed arms over his chest defensively.

“Look, I know your mother and Bruce may have showed you only one way to look at the world but –”

“You are not my parents to raise me, Y/L/N.”

“Thank god! I wouldn’t know how to handle you if you were my kid!” she laughed “But you know what, that’s even better. Cause you can freely twist my words and adjust whatever I say to your own perception. And I have no way to discipline or punish you.”

“So you won’t be leaving me if I don’t live up to the standard?” he asked quietly.

“What? Leaving you? No way!” If it was anyone else she would probably hug him then, but considering it was still Damian Wayne a little playful hair ruffle had to suffice. “Haven’t I told you you’re my favorite? Don’t tell Dick but – “ she made a dramatic pause and raised her voice to make sure her boyfriend heard “I THINK I LIKE YOU MORE THAN DICK!”

“I heard that!” something hit the wall separating bedroom and living room, causing both Damian and Y/N to chuckle.

“You make sure to remember it too, Grayson!”

“I hate you both!” Dick yelled from the wall, but it was obvious he was playing around, acting all goofy to make his girl and brother laugh.

And it seemed like a lot of weight was taken from Damian’s shoulders just because of hearing he wasn;t going to end up alone just because he wasn’t perfect sometimes.  

“I should probably get going. Father will –”

“Stay.” Y/N cut him off. “I’ll take care of Bruce. God forbid that man let you have a little rest.”

***

Damian fell asleep on the couch after two servings of ice cream and a multiple rounds of Man don’t get upset. At some point Dick joined them and the evening turned into one giant bonding exercise, interrupted by threats of murder with particular cruelty against Grayson if he ever let off steam about Damian's softer side.

But then, he was dozing off like a little lamb, looking completely harmless and innocent, while Y/N made sure to cover him with a blanket.

“Y/N, can’t you see what that little prick is doing?” Dick appeared behind her, out of nowhere, dragging her to the kitchen to have a little conversation.

“Planning world domination?” She tease with a hint of a smile.

“Yeah, that probably too.” Dick shook his head in amusement “but in this case, he’s taking all of your time and I have to live on scraps of attention.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I don’t like it…”

“I’m training you for the time when our kids appear in the world.”

“K-kids?” his gaze immediately traveled to her belly, judging whether she was being serious, going a little pale. Was he even ready for that? Why didn’t she tell him sooner, there were so many things to be planned and bought and—

“Hey, hey, relax” Her hands rested on his cheeks, forcing his eyes back on hers. “Not now. And not any time soon. But hopefully one day we will have kids. And then what? You’ll be jealous of them too?”

“This is not the same….”

“Maybe. But you can either learn how to share me or get mad and lose me. Which one would you rather?”

“Neither.” He held her tighter, pulling closer to his chest. “You’re all mine.”

“Still- gotta – breathe” the strained voice coming from her was enough proof he was squeezing her too tight. Like a rubber frog whose eyes pop if you press on the right spot.

Dick sighed and released the grip slightly, trying to say something more, but she didn’t let him.

“I can stretch my time for people that are important. And last time I checked, you were still on top of that list. It’s not going to change because I decided to become a mentor to your brother.”

“More like a psychologist.”

“Richard Grayson!”

“What?”

“You keep helping people left and right and it’s not like I have tons of your time either. So you are a hypocrite.”

“That's the second time today I’m being called that.”

“I always knew Wally was smarter than people gave him credit for.” She chuckled “now. It’s barely midnight, quite early for us, so would you like to spend some quality time together?”

“If that’s your attempt at stretching the time then yes,  I’d love it.”

[itneverendshere]

hiiii, i just read the school spirit fic with rafe AND ITS THE BEST FUCKING THING. i need a part 2 desperately please, i need rafe to play the best game he is ever played and everyone it’s like wtf but like omg. AND THE LAST GOL HE LIKE DEDICATES IT TO READER POINTING TO THE BLEACHERS. and then reader just goes with it and they fuck… please i need it

you ask and you shall receive! hope you enjoy <33

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part ii

warnings: smart!reader x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; read part i here; part iii SMUT!;

word count: 4.7k

you were losing your fucking mind.

what were you thinking? oh, right! you weren’t.

the entire situation felt surreal, but there was no backing down now.

plus, when did some little dick hurt your feelings?

it was a win-win like you said before. if he won, you got laid after months without feeling a human's touch. if he lost, you wouldn't get laid and just walked away. either way, you’re not entirely disappointed with the outcome.

or at least that’s why you’ve been telling yourself.

as you walked to the stadium, your heart pounded in your chest, legs threatning to give out underneath you. yeah, you were a little nervous. but you blamed it on pope for giving you so much shit about the game.

he’d been insistent on you learning the rules, the players’ names, even memorizing their more common plays. it felt like he was trying to coach you into a small version of josé mourinho. 

everyone knew you were not the type to get invested in sports, let alone a college soccer match, but today was different and you were stupid enough to let your best friend convince you to wear a stupid jersey with rafe’s name and number on it.

13.

of course that walking disaster of a man would choose the unlucky number for himself. 

as you entered the stadium, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming. the chants, the cheers, the jeers—had you mentioned this was your first time watching a game? in real life? you knew people took this seriously, but it felt absolutely insane to witness it.

you could see the players warming up on the field, rafe among them.

he looked so different out there, focused and intense, very different to the reckless, unpredictable guy you were used to.

you followed pope like a lost puppy, and quickly found your seats in the stands, right in the middle of a sea of fans. some were dressed in the team's colors, others wore jerseys like yours, proudly displaying their favorite player's name and number. you felt out of place, a fraud among true fans, but there was no turning back now.

“turn that frown upside down, you gonna scare the bitches away.”

you rolled your eyes, “stop calling everyone bitches.”

from the corner of your right eye, you saw pope leaning closer, and without so much of a glance, you could tell he was about to spew out something stupid to piss you off.

“why are you so tense, hmmm? you’re getting laid tonight bro, cheer up!”

your hand instantly lifted to knock some sense into his head, “keep it down!” you hiss in his ear, “jesus.”

he just laughed, entirely unfazed by your irritation. “relaxxx, no one’s paying attention to us,” he said, casually draping an arm over the back of your seat. “they’re all too busy worshipping our soccer gods.”

you couldn’t help but glance around, noting the faces of fans who seemed to live and breathe for this moment. it was a different world, one you never quite understood.

you looked back at the field, your eyes finding rafe again. he was in his element, effortlessly moving through the warm-up drills, every motion proof to his athleticism. for a moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate the view. his jersey clung to his body, emphasizing muscles you hadn’t really paid attention to before…closely.

“hey,” pope nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie. “you’re drooling.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at your lips, “i’m assessing the task.”

“don’t worry. rumor has it he’s big.”

you shot pope a glare, half-amused and half-exasperated. "do you ever shut the fuck up?"

pope just chuckled, shaking his head, “i’m dead serious.”

you were quiet for a minute. eyes drifting along rafe’s body, stopping—

“how big?”

“what?”

“how big.” you muttered under your breath, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack your friend for his relentless teasing.

he only sent you a wink, “you’ll find out soon enough sweetcheeks, it’s okay.”

"you’re so annoying," you gritted trough your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, “so annoying.”

pope just grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "the game’s starting, enjoy the view.”

the game started, and you tried to follow along, remembering pope's endless lectures. but rafe was everywhere, moving with a kind of grace you didn't know he possessed, toned legs carrying effortlessly across the field.

you watched him, transfixed, as he commanded the team, shouting orders and making plays. it was like seeing a different side of him, a side you couldn't reconcile with the rafe who caused so much chaos in the library. it was kinda hot. when he touched the ball, your heart leaped into your throat. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him. 

then, it happened.

he dribbled past defenders as if they were mere obstacles in his way and then, he unleashed a powerful strike, the ball soared through the air, a perfect arc that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot. time seemed to slow down as everyone watched with bated breath. then, the net rippled as the ball slammed into the back, and the stadium exploded.

"and cameron with an explosive start here! just six minutes into the game, and he's already showing us why he's a force to be reckoned with. that was a textbook example of skill and determination, folks! he saw the opportunity, he seized it, and he made it count! our boy is back!”

“holy fuck!” pope all but screamed in your ear as the crowd went wild, “what the hell did you tell him?!”

you turned to him, still sitting, momentarily speechless, as the realization sunk in that maybe, just maybe, your unconventional motivation had really ignited something within rafe. 

"i don't know," you managed to shout back, your voice drowned out by the crowd. but deep down, you knew. maybe it wasn't about the specifics of what you promised but the audacity of your offer that spurred him on.

as the game rolled on, rafe's presence on the field took over. every move he made sparked cheers and chants from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere. it was a far cry from your usual indifference to sports, but you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement of it all.

in every pass, every interception, and every almost-goal, whenever he got the ball, the whole stadium seemed to hold its breath, as did you, waiting to see what he'd do next.

you were a hypocrite.

because he scored, again. 

when you thought, he was done showing off and making you eat your last week’s words up, you saw him turn to the stands after he celebrated the last goal with his teammates and your heart dropped to your ass.

there was no way in hell he was going to find you in that sea of people, right? you were safe. he was scanning the crowd, your section...searching for... you.

"shit," you muttered under your breath, trying to shrink into your seat. 

“yeah, that’s on me. sorry. told him your seat.”

if you weren’t about to puke, you would’ve punched pope in the face, instead you chose to keep your head down, eyes rooted to your beat up adidas, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“he’s coming up.”

you lifted your head, looking at pope incredulously, “he’s what?! pope, don’t fuck with me.”

“i’m sorry it was just too funny,” pope snickered, shaking his head, “he’s not coming, but he’s staring at you with those love-sick puppy eyes.”

you reluctantly glanced down to find him staring directly at you, chest heaving as he brushed a few stubborn strands of sweaty hair away from his forehead.

you almost, key word almost, gasped at you handsome he looked.

then a grin spread slowly across his lips. without breaking eye contact, he subtly raised his hand, a gesture only you could understand.

and it hit you. it was a callback to your shared sign language class in freshman year.

how the fuck did he remember that? you didn’t. not until he did it. 

hi beautiful.

you’d never felt the need to swoon over a man before. now you might. after what feels like an eternity, but were just mere seconds, you gathered your courage and raised your hand, mirroring his sign for a simple "hi" and adding a tentative smile.

it was an easy gesture, but it felt…different. rafe's smile widened in response before he turned to run back into the field.

pope, ever the instigator, nudged you again. "that was smooth.”

the glare returned to your face.

the rest of the game unfolded in a blur. rafe continued to dominate the field, scoring goal after goal with precision and skill that left you in awe. each time he celebrated, you found yourself holding your breath. 

when the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted in celebration, your jaw was nearly on the floor.

had he played like that his entire life? was this the same boy that you threatened to punch in the face if he didn’t get his life together? the team's victory was clear—a resounding 4-0 win.

"remember that name, folks—rafe cameron. he's not just a player; he's a game-changer. and with plays like that, he's proving why he's a standout talent on this field today!"

"well," pope finally managed to say, his voice tinged with disbelief, "looks like you're in for a ride."

you could only nod dumbly as you watched rafe celebrate with his teammates, the bond between them palpable even from a distance.

you swore you even saw him hug jj. 

as the stadium began to empty, you lingered in your seat, watching as rafe disappeared into the locker room with his team to shower. eventually, you gathered your belongings and followed pope out of the stadium.

“you gonna wait for him here?”

“i don’t know,” you groaned, itching to warm your freezing hands, “didn’t plan ahead.”

"so..." pope started again, "what's the plan now? going to find him?"

“i told—“ 

you were about to drill some common sense into pope when you feel something touch your back. not just something. a warm, blazing palm settling at the end of your back.

you froze, your heart racing as the warmth seeped through your jacket.

“cameron, nice game, for once.”

ignoring pope’s teasing, you leaned your head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. and there he was. looking at you with that same confident tilt on his pretty lips that had both infuriated and intrigued you countless times before.

"hey," rafe said, his voice slightly breathless from the intensity of the game and the excitement still coursing through him.

"hey," you managed to reply, your voice surprisingly steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh okay. i get it.”

rafe glanced over at pope with a knowing smirk. "thanks for coming out, man.”

“you’re welcome by the way.”

rafe ignored the comment, eyes remained fixed on you. "glad you could make it," he said, his tone softer now.

“okayyy, i’m leaving. stay safe, byee!”

“pope,” you yelled out as he excused himself, “my doorm keys are in your car.”

“that sounds like a you problem.”

you stared after pope, mouth slightly agape, as he disappeared into the crowd. you'd have to figure that out later. for now, there was rafe, standing so close that the air between you didn’t seem enough. 

"guess we're stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual, mentally cringing at how stupid it sounded.

rafe only chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin, "seems like it."

“sooo—“

before you could finish your sentence, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

and then he kissed you

it was messy, sensual, and bruising all at once. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that took you by surprise, but you didn't pull away. instead, you matched his intensity, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you kissed him back with just as much need. it felt like you were losing your fucking mind, but you didn't care.

he just felt so good.

his hands roamed up your lower back, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into him. his kiss was demanding, with a sense of deep-seated need that you hadn’t anticipated.

your fingers tangled in his hair, wondering if you’d ever get the chance to do this again after tonight. when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you tried to regain your composure. 

his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, “we’re leaving now.”

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “now?”

“yeah, now.” rafe’s voice was resolute, leaving no room for argument.

he hoisted you up into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. oh wow, you liked this.

“what are you doing?” you managed to gasp out, clinging to his shoulders for stability. he was so fucking strong it nearly made you want to eat him whole.

“taking you to bed,” he replied, his voice low, “we’ve got unfinished business.”

the walk to his dorm? you couldn’t remember.

you were acutely aware of the curious stares from other students, but you didn’t care. maybe the day after.

rafe cameron was carrying you on his arms inside his fraternity and when he finally reached his dorm, he kicked the door open with his foot, carrying you inside, before locking it. he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

there was a fire there, an intensity that made your knees weak.

“that wasn’t fair, y’know."

your brows furrowed in confusion.

“tempting me for weeks.”

“well—i didn’t think—nmph!”

his lips were on yours again, the kiss just as desperate as before. you melted into him, your body pressing against his as you gave in to the sensation of his hands exploring your back, pulling you closer. your fingers fumbled to remove his shirt. he’d showered after the game but you were still wearing his jersey. he helped you, pulling it off in one swift motion, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. you couldn’t help but run your hands over his chest, enjoying at the hard planes of his body.

his hands found the hem of your own jersey, “you’re gonna wear this to every game, you hear me?”

you tilted your head to the side, in mock confusion, “who said i'm going to your games?”

he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin as his hands worked to pull the jersey over your head.

“oh, baby. you will. you won’t be able to stay away.”

“confident, are we?” you teased, even as your breath hitched at the way his hands roamed over your now-bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“you’ll see.”

he was kissing you.

again.

more insistent, like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you reveled in the feeling of being wanted so intensely. his hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he lifted you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist.

you felt the hard press of him against you, a reminder of just how much he wanted this—wanted you. he carried you over to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness despite the urgency in his movements.

 he hovered over you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your body, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he went along.

you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. “then stop talking and show me.”

that was the only warning rafe needed.

his hands were everywhere—tugging at your shorts, tracing the curves of your body, driving you wild with anticipation. he finally rid you of your remaining clothes, and you couldn’t help but shiver as the cool air hit your heated skin. but it didn’t last long, not with his body pressing against yours, his warmth enveloping you.

you lost yourself in the sensation—the taste of him, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the way he pressed into you.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt.

“god, yes,” you all but mewled, your hands clutching at his sheets, needing him to just do something, “need you to touch me right now.”

his fingers trailed down your body with deliberate slowness, “tell me how.”

you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone articulate what you needed. your mind was a haze of want and need, every nerve ending screaming for him.

but somehow, you managed to speak, “everywhere.”

a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he dipped his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. his hand moved to your other breast, squeezing and kneading as his mouth worked its magic. 

“like this?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

son of a bitch.

“yeah, oh, just like that,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his blonde hair, holding him close. “don’t stop.”

he didn’t.

his mouth and hands continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you up the fucking walls. his lips trailed down your stomach, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake.

oh you needed to be fucked all right.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area. 

“rafe,” you pleaded, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent demand, “don’t be a dick.”

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “so needy,” he teased, but his voice was filled with reverent awe.

without further warning, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue delving into your folds with a hunger that made you cry out. he licked and sucked, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devoured you. 

this man ate pussy like the champion that he was and you loved it.

his tongue flicked against your clit with precision, with ease. rafe was relentless, his mouth working you to the brink, then easing off just enough to keep you on edge.

“fuck, rafe,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face, desperate for more.

he growled in response, the vibration adding another layer of pleasure, and you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge. he must have sensed it, because his pace quickened, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with the throbbing need building inside you.

your head was spinning as you looked down at him and met his heavy-lidded gaze searing a path straight to your core. you could only grab his bicep for stability, digging your nails into his skin.

and then, with a final, well-placed flick of his tongue, you came apart, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. rafe didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding you through your climax until you were a boneless, quivering mess beneath him.

you never came so fast in your life. 

when he lifted his head, his lips glistened with your arousal as he crawled back up your body. he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, the sensation of his weight pressing you into the mattress grounding you as you came down from your high.

“holy shit,” you breathed when he finally pulled back, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. “good job, cameron.”

he grinned, a boyish, cocky smile that somehow made you want him even more. “glad you enjoyed it,” he murmured, his voice a rough, sexy whisper against your lips.

you reached down, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, desperate to feel him inside you.

“your turn,” you pulled his shorts down enough to free his cock. it sprang free, hard and heavy, and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly.

oh wow.

so big big.

your hand moved around rafe’s cock lazily, feeling its weight and heat in your palm. he hissed through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch. you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of him—so strong, so utterly at your mercy.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” rafe muttered, his voice strained with need. he watched your hand with hooded eyes, his hips thrusting slightly in time with your movements.

you felt a surge of power, knowing you had this effect on him.

you grinned up at him, loving the way his breath hitched with every stroke. “don’t like it?”

his laugh was breathless, shaky. “oh, i do. but this—” he broke off with a groan as you squeezed him a little harder, “—this is something else.”

without breaking eye contact, you guided him towards your entrance, positioning him at your slick opening. he paused, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. 

“condom?” 

you nodded, your heart pounding in anticipation. “yeah.”

rafe reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for a moment before retrieving a condom. you watched, heart racing, as he tore open the foil packet with his teeth, the sound sharp and thrilling in the quiet of the room. he rolled it on swiftly, his movements sure and practiced. with the condom in place, he positioned himself between your legs.

he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you until you thought you might break. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that made you gasp, you were holding on for dear life as he filled you completely.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, his hands cradling your face tenderly. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “’m good. just—move.”

rafe didn’t need any more encouragement.

he started to thrust, slow and deep, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. his pace increased, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more frantic.

“can’t believe— fuck, oh, this is happening.”

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice breaking with every thrust. “just—don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. he rubbed it in tight, relentless circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire being. 

“fuck, that’s it,” rafe groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his grip on your hip tightening ,“so fucking beautiful.”

his lips found yours in an all-spit kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched the relentless pace of his hips. your fingers dug into his shoulders as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

"oh fuck," you gasped, breaking the kiss as the sensations overwhelmed you, “rafe,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, “i’m—”

“i know,” he cut you off, his voice strained. “me too.”

you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body on fire. and then you were falling, your orgasm crashing over you, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms.

your climax triggered his own, and seconds later with a few more powerful trusts, he buried himself deep inside you, body shuddering as he came, his moans low and hot in your ear.

you held onto him, feeling the rhythmic pulses of his release, the raw, primal intensity of it making your head spin.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both trying to catch your breath, your bodies still intertwined. then, rafe rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were lying against his chest.

you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. you lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. you felt strangely happy, considering everything that had led to this moment, but you didn’t want to question it.

“so,” his fingers trailed lazily up and down your arm, “does this mean you’re coming to my next game?”

“not sure.”

the sensation of rafe still inside you, combined with the aftermath of your shared orgasm, left you both in a haze of pleasure.

but you weren’t done yet.

there was a need within you that demanded more, a desire to push the boundaries even further.

you slid out from beneath him, leaving him lying on his back. his blue eyes widened slightly as he watched you, curiosity and anticipation written all over his face. you settled yourself between his legs, your hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs before wrapping around his still-hard cock, after you pulled and tied the condom, throwing it into the garbage can in the corner.

“w—what are you doing?” 

you didn’t answer right away.

instead, you focused on stroking him slowly, your hand gliding up and down his length, feeling the pulse of his desire beneath your fingers. rafe groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his hips lifting slightly in response to your touch.

overstimulation was a bitch. so were you sometimes.

“you won, right?” you replied, your voice sultry. “here’s your prize.”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “are you trying—oh fuck. trying to kill me?”

you smirked, increasing the pace of your strokes, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there. “is that a complaint?”

“not even close,” he managed to say, his voice strained.

you could see the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing, his breaths coming faster. you leaned down, letting your tongue flick over the head of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness of him. he jerked, a guttural groan escaping his lips, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

“baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you took him deeper into your mouth, your hand still working the base of his shaft, “shit.”

you reveled in the power you had over him, the way his body responded to your every touch, your every movement.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him hard. his hands moved to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you, but not forcing you.

it only made him hotter.

the sounds he made, the way he writhed beneath you, only spurred you on. you wanted to push him over the edge, to see him come again because of you. you pulled back slightly, your hand pumping him faster, your mouth focusing on the sensitive head, your tongue swirling around it, teasing him mercilessly.

“’m so close,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening. “please, don’t stop.”

you had no intention of stopping. 

you increased your pace, your hand and mouth working in perfect harmony, driving him towards his release. you felt his body tensing even more, his breaths coming in ragged pants, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spilled himself into you with a hoarse cry.

you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, the satisfaction of knowing you had pushed him to this point. when you finally pulled back, rafe was a panting mess, his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling.

“you just made me fall in love with you, again.”

"what?"

[sutorus]

OFF TO THE RACES

DESCRIPTION: toji takes you to bet on one of his races.

PAIRING: toji x reader

WC: 1.9k

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, afab terms, age gap, implied free use, heavy implied dubcon, in public, fingering (f! receiving), come eating (f!), crying, pet names (babydoll, honey, s!ut), heavy objectification 

A/N: yes i grew up on ldr i love my (((strictly fictional))) old men sue me!

“you better start praying number four catches up soon, babydoll,” he whispers into your ear, snaking a hand around your waist. 

a chill runs down your spine and your body rattles violently in response. 

he had told you to dress up today. 

how naive you were, thinking he’d just said that because it was a nice date, because the type of people that enjoy horse races don’t usually wear flip flops or show their midriffs. 

if only you had known.

you’re trying to hide it, but you’re nervous.

you can’t help it, constantly sneaking sideway glances at the two imposing men who have been staring at you this entire time. 

it would be an unbelievable situation, if it wasn’t toji. not for the first time, you wonder why you ever got involved with him. 

the lip scar should’ve been enough of a warning. the intentionally vague answer he gave about his job should’ve been enough, the decades — plural — that separated you two should’ve been enough. 

but he was a smooth talker. and he was good looking. and he made you feel safe, mostly because, well… who could be more dangerous than him? 

that feeling has never been more prevalent to you than it is right now. 

toji’s gaze follows yours, his fingertips sneaking under your skirt just barely. 

“don’t look so spooked,” he instructs, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. toji laughs low, letting his head loll sideways on top of yours. “you scared of dick or somethin’?”

you hate this. you hate this so much. you hate the way your body’s responding to it the most. 

the heat in your gut spreads all the way up to your cheeks, and you stop yourself from soothing your burning face with the back of your hands. 

he’d told you not to draw too much attention. not to make any sudden movements. you thought it was because — you thought, you thought, you thought. but you were wrong. 

you can’t decide if you can even blame yourself for that. 

you knew toji was running out of money. you knew he was involved with some shady people. 

but when in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he was planning on using you as a betting chip?

the disapproving click of his tongue pulls you from your thoughts, and your eyes lock dreadfully on horse number four. 

it’s falling behind, number six stealing third place from it. 

the heat inside you spreads further. 

“if it’s any consolation,” toji says, conversationally. “i don’t think they’ll be too mean to ya.”

it reminds you of a nature documentary you watched, once. the gazelle, trying to act nonchalant, looking for an escape route, when faced with a pride of lions. a dangerous dance. and everybody knows who’s got the upper hand, there. 

“not meaner than i am, at least,” he adds. 

your shut your eyes tightly. 

you haven’t even dared to look at them properly, at toji’s sponsors or loan sharks or whatever the hell they are. 

you want to scream at him, at how embarrassing it is that they’re younger than him and richer than him, having fun at both of your expenses. 

you realize suddenly that they’re not even here to watch the race. this place probably doesn't entertain them anymore, more of a chore than anything else.

they’re here to watch you, sweating and fidgeting on your seat with the knowledge that your body was theirs if the damn horse didn’t win. 

a one in eight change. 

god, you hoped it was toji’s lucky day. 

you catch a glimpse of a wild, tall figure to the left of you, swaying in gleeful laughter as the horse falls to fifth place.  

“let’s go home,” you grip the hand that’s resting on your leg in a last ditch effort. 

it’s useless, of course.

toji’s jaw is tensed, every muscle tight in anger. 

he doesn’t want this, either. he doesn’t like sharing you. 

but then again, he doesn’t really care about you, does he? cares more about his money, at least. 

your breathing starts to pick up, legs shaking in anticipation. in a way, you just want this to be over. 

you’re so caught up in your dread that you don’t even notice toji’s fingers crawling up your thigh until his knuckles are grazing your clothed pussy. 

your body immediately seizes up, your straightened spine glued to the back of your chair.

he gives a low, mean chuckle when he feels how wet you are. 

toji rubs you there almost soothingly, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. 

your fists are clenched tightly on your lap, legs squeezing together in an attempt to — what? you don’t know. 

stop him? encourage him? it doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. 

toji shifts in his seat to face you, slipping the pads of his fingers into your panties. you huff, only able to watch the movement of his hand underneath your skirt. 

he rubs lazy circles on your clit, eyes on your face and showing no emotion at all.

no remorse at all. 

it feels good. it feels good and you hate that it does, that it feels good with him, that he can get you like this anytime, anywhere. 

you bite down on your bottom lip when two fingers slide down, just teasing your entrance, gliding over your pussy. 

your chest burns from the inside out with uneven breaths, and defeatedly, willingly, you spread your legs just a little bit. 

you’re not watching the race anymore and you think that’s for the better. you focus only on toji’s veiny forearms as the muscles there work over and over with every stroke of his fingers. 

someone clears their throat loudly and your legs kick out in shock. 

an initial wave of panic washes over you but then you’re glad.

surely getting caught fingering your girlfriend at a horse race would get you kicked out, right? and then the deal is over, right? and then you won’t have to—

before you can even vocalize your thoughts, toji’s rolling his eyes and, with a sigh, settling back on his seat to face the race. 

but his fingers don’t leave you. 

no, he continues pumping them lazily in and out of you, thumb pressing down on your clit and rubbing little circles. 

and that’s when you realize the sound had come from the left of you. from the men. not a horrified gasp, a dignified warning, no.

if anything, an entitled demand that toji stops blocking their view of you. 

you wish you could cry right now.

instead, you tuck your chin into your chest as toji speeds up his movements, going a little faster, a little meaner. you swallow your wails, thighs shaking.

those men, they don’t look like they kill. they probably get other people to do that for them. you haven’t gathered a lot from your stolen glances but that much you’re sure of. 

you know you’ll return home to toji. despite everything, you’ll run back to his arms, for better or for worse. 

“you likin’ this?” he’s asking, like he doesn’t know the answer. “y’like that i bet your slutty little cunt on that rank, good for nothing horse?”

you let out a sob, chest lurching. he pumps his fingers in and out of you at just the right pace, hitting just the right patches despite how hard you’re squeezing around him. 

“please…” you mewl, not sure what you’re asking for. 

his thumb is relentless on your clit, rubbing it over and over again. your hips buck on their own, wanting more, more friction, more filling, more. 

“you’ll get more soon, whore,” toji spits out like he can read your mind. there’s no point in hiding how much you’re enjoying this, being in public, being eyed hungrily like a prize, when toji knows your body so well. 

it feels almost like he’s prepping you, physically and mentally, for what’s to come, and it makes you weep harder. 

when a wave of astonished cheers break out in unison, it sounds miles away to you. all you can is the blood rushing inside your ears, toji’s huffed out breaths, the crinkle of bills being passed around from one hand to another. 

you’re slow to notice the commotion is due to horse number four miraculously catching up, coming in at number two now.

dangerously close to first place. 

it’s a rush, all at once, when toji turns your head to kiss you. 

you come undone on his fingers, right then and there, whining crazed moans into his mouth. he groans when your cunt clenches, fluttering around his fingers as the last waves of your orgasm hit you. 

if you focus hard enough, you can hear the shlick of his fingers lazily helping you ride out your high. you can’t help it but to let your head fall on his chest.

when toji pulls his fingers out of you, there are webs of slick in between them. you feel almost embarrassed, even more so when he brings them up to your mouth quickly, pushing in between your lips with ease. 

you suck efficiently to clean him up and toji hums in approval, petting your hair. 

there’s an instant where you two look in each other’s eyes and that’s all there is, your fucked out brain forgetting everything except for his touch. 

“ahh,” then a merry voice breaks you out of your trance, its owner casting a shadow over both your bodies as he stands in front of you. “i hate to ruin the moment, really, but…”

the man points his thumb over his shoulder.

the race is over.

horse number four came in at fourth place. 

how fitting. 

his partner approaches and there’s no denying it, they’re extremely attractive. individually, yes, but maybe even more so together, side by side, looking like opposites who came together due to being... likeminded.

but still. are they really going to—

“collect,” the other one says, sternly, with his hands up like he’s a good guy. “satoru. we’re just here to collect. no need to rub salt in the wound.” 

toji chuckles, but you catch the way his shoulders tense. 

“hey, a deal’s a deal. but no wounds here,” he looks at you briefly before squinting up at them. “doubt you two kids can do half the damage.”

that i can is left unsaid. you fight hard to keep the horrified look off your face. 

toji was already pimping you out to these random men, essentially. did he have to provoke them, too?

you resent the fact that the dread in the pit of your stomach isn’t big enough to push away the arousal growing next to it. 

there’s another reason why you and toji fit so well together, after all. 

the taller one — satoru — laughs, and this one’s genuine.

he reaches out tentatively, as if he were petting a stray cat, and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. 

toji looks at him in understanding, in agreement. 

when he doesn’t react any further, satoru’s finger trails down to your lips, still glistening wet. he traces them, jutting his own out in a pout. 

“she better be worth every penny you cost us, zen’in.”

toji smirks.

you notice the other man, the one with black hair and a bun, is hard in his tailored slacks. 

you swallow down the last of your sobs.

“oh, she is," toji's hand gives your thigh a departing tap. "i might have shit taste in horses but i know how to pick my sluts."

[flamingpudding]

do you still take requests? if you do can you write your take on this idea https://www.tumblr.com/ilydana/746501696852819968/cloneclonedbatman?source=share

Thanks for the Ask! That's is an interesting one!

Also as long as I can write something to it I don't mind getting requests, if I can't I will let people know if I can. So no worries about that K?

Out of courtesy and because I believe its is the right thing to do here the Link and a Tag to the original writer @ilydana I hope you don't mind that I am taking inspiration from you for this.

Also I don't know Conners Timeline well and I like to base my writings on the Wayne Family Adventures settings so.... yea sorry if I got some facts wrong....

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

Clone double Wamy

Thinks were never easy for the Waynes, Bruce realised that when he sat in the meeting room. Usually he would have confronted his best friend in a more private setting, like when it was just the two of them or only Diana with them. But his best friend had been grating on his nerves with this for a while now. Bruce had honestly believed Clark had gotten better with the whole Clone thing but apparently he hadn't.

"All I am saying is that Conner is a person and to stop referring to him as 'it'." Bruce wasn't sure what had this brought on but maybe it was also having listened to his own kids rants about the way Conner had been and sometimes still was treated by Clark. Usually when someone called his friend out on it he would laugh awkwardly and say it was a slip of the tongue. That he still wasn't completely used to the idea of having a clone.

It's been years and Bruce wasn't buying that excuse anymore.

Well his persistent nagging had now caused this petty fight in front of everyone. He knew his children present, Dick and Tim, would have his back as well as most of their friends. But he also knew that those that prefer to keep the peace would try to argue in Clarks favor to sweep this hole problem under the rug once more.

"You don't get what it is like to be cloned or how long it takes to get used to it!"

His eye twitched under his cowl, he could also feel his kids tense up, especially Tim. His entire family had expirence when it came to cloning. The number of labs from the LoA they had shut down and destroyed was a testament to it. But there was one thing his entire Family aside from Alfred didn't know either.

"I actually do."

He stated calmly watching Clarks reaction as he stared unwaveringly at his best friend. He could see the colour drain, the paling and the pure look of disbelief he was getting, while Nightwing and Red Robin stood up to stand behind him with crossed arms. They probably thought he was referencing the time they had to fight Damian's Clones that sadly couldn't be saved like Conner had been.

"What do you....?" His best friend started but wasn't able to finish his question as Bruce decided to rip the bandaid off.

"The original Bruce Wayne died before he even was one month old. My parents, unable to cope with the loss cloned the baby with the help of a pair of scientist from Illinois." If the situation was different he might have laughed into the faces the people around him were making, not very Batman like of him but it was kind of funny. Still he was thankful for the comforting hand his son, Dick, placed on his shoulder or the way his other son, Tim inched closer protectively like. These two while probably shocked still stood by his side.

"And i was not the only clone that resulted from my parents original grief."

He left it at that as he stood and left the meeting without any further explanation. Bruce had made his point clear, now the ball was in his friends court. He was thankful that his kids followed him out as he went straight to the Zeta-Tubes to return to the Batcave. He knew his kids had questions for him, but he was not willing to answer them in front of the other heroes and thankfully his kids knew that that. So they silently followed him until they were back to the cave.

"B?" Dick asked tentatively once they were back in the came.

"It is as simply as I stated. My parents grieved the loss of their original son and unable to cope they cloned their own child with the help of a pair of scientist." He reiterated his earlier statement not looking at the two at first. For a brief moment he was thankful his other kids were out and about busy with other things.

"A pair of scientists?" Tim propped further and Bruce sighed wondering how much he should tell or if he could keep some things secret.

"Family actually. Estranged but they were... are family." He nodded. "The Fentons. Jack Fenton was my fathers cousin. Because of his field of research he got estranged from the family, not fitting into the perfect image my great grandparents had in mind for the Waynes originally. My father contacted him for help regarding the cloning back then."

"You said you weren't the only one?" He gave Tim a small smile, it was just like him to catch on to the small details and focus his questions on that.

"I didn't know until many years later when my parents died." He smiled a little remembering back to his training with Lady Gotham and how she asked him if he had siblings and then proceeded to introduce him to his clone twin. Ever since then Danny had become quite the fixture in his life, a reconnected family member. Though they had needed a lot of help when it came to actually speaking with each other but that thankfully Danny's sister Jazz helped.

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when he noticed Dick's stare of realisation. "Uncle Danny!"

Bruce just smirked, chuckling lightly as he gave his eldest a slight nod. "Danny."

Dick was the most familiar with Danny having meet the other a couple of times when he was younger and just started out as Robin. Bruce wasn't ashamed to say that Danny and Alfred had been the two he had asked for advice the most when he had taken Dick in back then. Danny had already expirence in raising kids from an even younger age than Bruce had. That their two cousins Dan and Danielle were in a way clones too was however something he would not be telling his kids yet. Frankly it wasn't his place and honestly if Danny hadn't become as comfortable as he had with this fact over the year he wouldn't have outed his clone twin to his kids either.

"So...." Tim started, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "...what now? Not that it will change anything now but uh...."

"Nothing really? I mean if Clark still got a problem then well I guess we don't have a super uncle anymore? But hey maybe we could introduce Uncle Danny to Conner?" Dick shrugged turning to Tim.

"But that would mean we admit to Uncle Danny that B let us in in the secret and that could make things awkward and..."

"Tim you are overthinking! It will be fine!"

Bruce smiled as he watched his two sons start to argue wether or not to introduce Danny to Conner. Well even if they did Danny wouldn't mind it. In fact Bruce had kept his clone twin updated on a lot of things that happened with his work as Batman. One of the reasons was that Danny had started out in the hero business way sooner than Bruce had but also because Danny was his last resort contingency plan against everything.

His twin would probably laugh in their faces and ask why it took them so long to introduce them and then drag his own daughter to meet Conner so they could have some 'clone'-bonding time and knowing Danielle, she was going to drag Dan along and then Bruce himself too. Bruce chuckled at that thought, he also knew that if Clark doesn't clean up his act than Danny would most likely swoop in and adopt Conner right out of under Clarks nose.

Well all he had to say if it came to that was that his best friend wouldn't be able to blame anyone but himself then.

[on-leatheredwings]

House Arrest

Yandere! Batfam / Bruce Wayne x (Fem!) Reader

For a request, Munchausen's syndrome by proxy with Bruce? Like, he keeps reader sick so she can't leave him or interact with someone outside the family. And maybe the rest of the batfam is in on it?

[a/n: Didn’t know if you wanted this platonic or not so I didn’t specify! In my head its romantic with bruce though lmao]

> word count: 1581

> Tw: gaslighting, munchausen’s syndrome by proxy, yandere-typical behaviors!

You sit in anticipation, foot tapping against the stone floor. There’s an entire miniature hospital set up for you down here in the Batcave. Respirators, diagnostics machines, and other expensive medical equipment that would be better served in Gotham General. 

Helping people recover. 

So patients could some day leave. 

You used to love being in the Batcave. It was the family’s little secret. When you officially joined the family, the Batcave was now your secret as well. But ever since falling ill months ago, bedridden with a sickness whose cause continues to elude everyone… being here is depressing. You now notice it’s damp down here. Dark. Lifeless.

Bruce sits at the Batcomputer, the screen’s light painting over his face in a green wash. You watch his eyes scan line after line of your results. Reminds you of a typewriter. Methodical. Orderly. Nearly inhuman. When he sighs, your heart stops. 

Fuck.

He turns to you, face grave. “You’re still ill.” 

Your eyes start stinging with an onset of tears that you furiously try to blink back. 

“... H-How ill? How bad? Am I any better?” you ask, as if bartering with him will make the situation any different. As if bartering with God ever made any difference for mere mortals such as yourself.

Bruce’s face is still. 

“You haven’t improved.” 

Your hopes crash down around you like glass. You aren’t better at all? Even though you haven’t had a fever in weeks? Even though you’ve been working out with enough energy to keep up with Damian? He was exerting perhaps only 10% of his effort, but still. Your lymph nodes aren’t even swollen anymore. Tim had told you as much, accidentally contradicting Bruce’s insistence that they had been earlier that morning. 

“But I feel better,” you croak. You hear footsteps behind you approach and you swallow drily, nearly hissing at the offender. It’s Dick, and damn him. You don’t want to be placated right now.

“Are you experiencing any headaches? Shortness of breath?” Bruce asks, eyes still trained on you. You try to recall. 

“... I may have had a migraine this morning…” At Bruce’s weary shake of the head, you blurt, “But it’s passed. I’m perfectly fine. And no shortness of breath.”

“... I’m sorry. But if you’ve been having symptoms like that, along with your being immunocompromised…” Bruce doesn’t even have to finish the sentence. You won’t be leaving the Wayne Manor grounds for a long time. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up and see Dick, whose face is somber but offers an encouraging smile. 

“Well, I’m back in town for the time being. We can hang out all the time.” His expression brightens as an idea pops into his head. “And I can call Tim, Jason, Duke–! Maybe even Cass and Steph… We can have a board game night tonight!” He sounds as chipper as you are miserable.

Damian approaches from behind, leaving the shadows. His arms are folded. “If that’s the case, I’ll humor Grayson and let him capture some of my fleet for once.” A popular choice was Risk, perfect for the family who’s entire lives revolved around combat and strategy. But you didn’t want to play Risk again. You didn’t want to have a board game night, no matter how many of the family came. You wanted to see people. 

Other people. Everyone here is your family. 

You want fucking friends again. You wanted a job again – a sentiment you would’ve laughed at even just five months ago. You wanted any semblance of a life again.

Bruce’s eyes haven’t left your trembling form once, two chips of slate-gray peering over steepled hands.

“Thank you, Dick. Damian. But I think she could use some time alone.”

Dick’s hand releases your shoulder, retracting as if burned. None of them are the boss here. It’s Bruce who is my warden, your mind whispers darkly. 

“Right! Don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.” Dick sees himself out, taking Damian with him. “See you tonight.” And that feels like a sentencing to your fate.

Now the two of you alone, Bruce stands, offering his arm wordlessly. You know what this means. You take it, linking yours with his without thought or protest. Bruce liked to ensure you were always within his reach, as if you were prone to fainting spells. This was less humiliating for you than him carrying you through the estate, you suppose. 

“Why, yes, let’s take a turn around the grounds!” you used to exclaim, making your voice posh and British, mimicking the regency romance movies you had been watching all the time. 

Now, months later, you just sullenly allow him to lead you. Your surroundings pass by and you vaguely recognize that you are exiting the Batcave, walking through the manor, and out into the never-ending expanse of a well-kept lawn. 

It’s a sunny, idyllic spring day after months of overcast winter. 

And thank god you could still traipse outside when you wanted, even if fenced in. Bruce told you when you had first fallen ill that he had installed some high-tech, anti-air pollution gadget. Wayne Manor was effectively your own personal bubble. Fresh air was the only thing keeping you sane, lately. 

You two pass by the garden, a labor of love Alfred started. You and Damian tend to it now… and mainly the latter, these days. You haven’t had any energy for gardening as of late. Fatigue is a symptom, you hear Bruce’s voice whisper in the back of your mind. But you don’t feel fatigue… rather, just depressed. But of course, isn’t fatigue a symptom of being depressed…? A familiar brain fog crawls into your mind. Your head was starting to hurt.

You look across the lawn, onto the horizon. Gotham’s dark skyline sits there, enticing. When night falls, it’ll glimmer and twinkle with light. There is a whole world out there. And, God, you love the Waynes, but they aren’t the world. You need to distract yourself. Bruce, ever the lover of pleasant silences, is going to have to distract you from thoughts that make you want to leap off the second story balcony of your bedroom.

Should you ask, “How’s work?” No. You find you don’t care. 

“How’s Jason?” you say instead, feeling Bruce stiffen at the mention of his most tenuous relation.

He wasn’t around as much, but when he was, he was always relaxing with you in your room. You have a whole shelf for the knick knacks he brings. “Don’t worry. They’re clean,” he’d snort at his former mentor, because Bruce required everything to be thrice sanitized before coming into your possession.

“... Better.”

You’re glad. That’s one good thing, you guess. 

“Bruce,” you croak. 

He looks at you, face alight in expectation. 

“Maybe I should just go,” you say, small and weak. Your eyes don’t leave the sight of Gotham skyscrapers, stretching to the sky. Bruce stills, stopping you both in your tracks.

“What do you mean, ‘go’?” he says carefully.

You remove yourself from his arm and gesture to the city. “Just go. Leave. I mean, I can’t stay here forever.” Bruce looks genuinely confused, as much as he can. 

“Of course you can.”

“No, I can’t!” you screech. Frustrated, you tear at your hair. “I can just be an outpatient somewhere– I can go for hospital treatments every week– or everyday– whatever!

Bruce places his hands on your shoulders.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Rage flares in you and you gnash your teeth at him. By now, that all-too-familiar brain fog has flooded your brain. But you try to fight it. You have to fight it. Like trying to crawl out of rapidly-sinking quicksand, you fight it.

“I-I know what I’m saying. I’m saying–”

“You’re saying to just let you die,” Bruce sharply returns. “To give up, let you die, and leave us to grieve.” 

“No–”

“Stephanie.” 

You meet his eyes again at the name, which are resolute and as blue as ever. 

“Cassandra. Duke.” Your stomach churns, imagining their smiling faces, turned into ash as your hypothetical passing. “Barbara.” 

“Bruce,” you croak, pleading inwardly for him to stop. 

“Damian.” 

“Tim.”

“Jason.” 

“Dick. Alfred.” You duck your head and your eyes meet the ground. The listing of all your loved ones pinches your heart, and you feel nauseous. You weren’t trying to leave them. You didn’t want to leave them at all. 

“... Me.” 

Your eyes sting with tears again. Why did he have to make it sound like that? Like you were seeking some selfish want, rather than trying to improve your quality of life. You feel your ambition and desire wane under the weight of guilt. You feel all sense of struggle start to disintegrate, lost to the fog in your head. Lost. You’ve lost.

Bruce’s eyes scrutinize you.

“As I suspected. You’re acting delirious. Manic. Delusional.”

Any semblance of protest dies in your throat. 

“What?” you say. But Bruce is already leading you away towards the looming doors of Wayne Manor, away from the green of the grounds. Away from the light of the sun, and away from the skyline. He comforts you with familiar lines on the way to your bedroom. 

You need rest. Alfred will brew his tea for you. I’ll call the kids to come tonight. We can play Risk. He pats your shoulder, stroking soft, deceptively warm circles with his thumb.

“You just need some rest.” 

And not for the first time, you believe he may be right.

[richardsgraysons]

Heyyy…. May i request a wife reader x dick grayson… she is mad at him and is giving him a silent treatment, but he is so done with this that he starts annoying her by saying Mrs. Grayson after every sentense and closing tightly lids

anon this is so adorable. i am going feral. also i am so severely sorry for my IA-ness.

tags — just overall fluff. some light swearing

In hindsight, you should've known that this would entail not just dating, but also marrying a vigilante. How could someone blame you, anyways? You were sitting at home, about to go to bed, when Nightwing crashed into your apartment after being chucked across the city by some villain or the other.

He had a major concussion. You didn't know how to treat thrown vigilantes who definitely had a couple of broken ribs and a torn ACL.

What you did know was how to comfort a man who was clearly in pain, who was trying to stifle his screams, because let's face it, the vigilante life should clearly not be glamorized.

He felt bad for the wreckage in your apartment. Every week, there'd be thousands of dollars at your doorstep from him, ready to pay it off. He had to be rich. There was no way he was giving your entire salary in four months and a half.

Eventually, you figured out his secret identity. And instead of being angry about it, Dick Grayson felt awfully in love with a girl who was as intelligent as he hoped she'd be. Sure she wasn't a supermodel, but she made him laugh. She made him think. She wasn't easy to get along with at times, but she made him better.

Three years later, he put a ring on it.

"I told you," you snapped, "you just keep going in stupid situations, and normally, I wouldn't mind, but it's like you refuse my help or anyone else's."

Dick knew he had a really bad hero complex. He couldn't stand anyone else getting hurt because of his issues. "I can handle it," he responded. "And isn't it just annoying that you've been mad at me for the past two days? Can't you just give it a rest?"

"I'll give it a rest when you start accepting help from others," you responded, your brows furrowing. "God, you're so—you're so—ugh!"

Dick rolled his eyes and then smirked at you, that stupid boyish smirk that made your heart tingle and everything else disappear. "I'm so what, sweetheart? What am I, Mrs. Grayson?"

You glared at him. "Dick!" You huffed, both saying his name and the insult. "That's it. I want a cooling down period. Leave me and the kitchen alone!"

He grinned, looking back at you, a mischievous glance in his eye. "Oh, I will, Mrs. Grayson. I will."

* * *

Making dinner was one of your forms of therapy. Dick was starting to go out for patrol, much to your distaste, no doubt about to pick a fight with someone who would give him considerable damage.

You didn't want him to go, you wanted to keep him here and kiss him forever, but he would leave anyways. It's my moral duty to the people of Bludhaven to keep them safe, he had said to you one night. I could never bring it to myself to disappoint these people. To make them unsafe. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure people are as safe as can be.

And though you really disliked it, you knew that was one of the core reasons why you were so undoubtedly in love with him.

You turned around to grab the jar of pickles, still steaming from the fight, only to find that it was incredibly hard to open.

"What. The. Hell?" You hissed. You had opened it up just a day ago, and put it easily back, making sure it wasn't that hard.

Your face turned red and you looked at it again before trying to open it up, straining and groaning, only for your muscles to give out. There was only one explanation for this.

Your stupid, lovable, husband.

And after a few minutes of recollecting your pride, you stomped over to your bedroom where he was dressing. He was in the midst of putting the top half of his suit on, and your mouth turned a little dry when you saw him shirtless.

You were pretty sure that when the first time you saw him shirtless, literal heart eyes came out of your eyes. You gawked for a couple of seconds, admiring the contour of his muscles, only for him to turn around and smirk at you.

He knew what you were doing. Dammit.

"Hi, Mrs. Grayson," he teased. "Enjoying the view?"

"Shut up," you snapped, and held out the jar. "Open this up right now and stop screwing with my jars."

He smirked at you. "What's the magic word?"

"The magic word is 'I will beat you up if you don't open the jar up right now'," you responded, glaring at him. "Now. Open."

He laughed, tossing his head back, his voice echoing off the room before taking the jar. You watched intently as his triceps flexed when he opened the jar up with ease and returned it back.

"Thank you," you said, your voice having an edge to it. You were about to turn around before he grabbed you by the arm.

"What, no good luck kiss?" Dick asked huskily in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine.

"Even if I give you one, you'll still end up badly injured."

"C'mon," he murmured, planting a light kiss on your neck, his hands dancing on your waist. He squeezed your sides slightly. "I always fight better when my girl kisses me."

You looked up at him and snorted. "In your dreams," you responded, but he took this moment to crash his lips against you. You felt dizzy and couldn't help but to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

When the both of you stopped, he laughed, looking at you breathless, his blue eyes twinkling in the night sky.

"Knew you couldn't be mad at me for that long, Mrs. Grayson."

"Shut up," you grumbled, punching his shoulder lightly. "Go save Bludhaven, Boy Wonder."

He stepped out the window and then turned back at him, smirking. "You know I am, sweetheart. And when I come back, I'm gonna finish what I started."

[the-book-gnome]

Distraction

Word count: 2.2k

Pairings: König x f!reader

Warnings: Smut, bondage, praise kink, dom!reader, sub! König, size difference, mask stays on(and the helmet) talk of anxiety, riding, penitration, p in v, unprotected sex, shy könig, (baby)

18+ only ! minors do not interact !

“Have you ever tried meditation?” The two of you were currently sitting in an empty safe house waiting for your captain and the others to show up. The team had gotten separated a while back. You'd been here for about an hour, both of you completely silent, listening for any noises that indicated someone was near. You weren't usually the talkative one, König was always the one to fill the silence but he seemed more anxious today.

“Why would I do that?” Königs gaze flickered over to yours, he was sitting up on the bed. His back was against the headboard, feet dangling off the edge. He was fiddling with the buckle of his belt, a habit you had picked up on a while ago.

“To help with your anxiety, I do it to clear my head, maybe it'll work for you too.” You spread your legs out in front of you. The floor wasn't a very comfortable thing to sit on but you didn't want to crowd him. Plus you had a better view of the door from where you were.

“I never told you I had anxiety, how do you know that? Who told you?” There was a worried tone in his voice, you could see his eyes widen slightly, and the rest of his face was covered by the sniper veil he was wearing.

A smirk grew on your lips as you watched him panic. The anxiety was so obvious it surprised you that everyone didn't notice it. “No need to panic baby, it was just a question,” You leaned your head back against the wall closing your eyes.

Königs replay came a few seconds later, “W-well I don't alright,” You could hear his heavy breaths from across the room. If a little pet name shook him you wondered how much it would take to say to make him start begging for you.

“Mhm, whatever you say,” Silence took over again. You could feel him staring at you, his fidgeting had stopped. You already knew how he felt about you. With him always staring at you when he didn't think you would notice or when he would volunteer himself to go on missions with you. Or for example this exact situation. He wasn't supposed to be with you on this mission, he was supposed to stay with the rest of the group but he convinced the captain that you'd be safer with someone watching your back. It was pure luck that everything went to shit the two of you need up here together. Alone.

König watched you intently. You always looked so beautiful, even if you were covered in dirt or blood. He could swear his heart stopped when you called him that. His entire body lit up including his dick, he tried to hide the growing bulge in his pants but he had a feeling you knew. You never really spoke, especially not to him, but he always found you so intriguing. He loved that you were so small compared to him. To be fair everyone was, that's what happened when you were 6’10” but you were special. He thought so at least. “Do you think it would work? The meditating?”

“That, among other things,” When you opened your eyes you found him staring down at his lap. You stood up from the floor and leaned against the wall, peeking out the doorway to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

“Like what?” König’s voice was small, almost like he didn’t want to upset you by asking. It did come with reason. The last time he asked you a question you had snapped at him and told him to shut up. But to be fair the two of you were in the middle of a mission and you were trying to concentrate.

“Killing people usually helps me, it’s very calming,” A smile played on your lips. When he looked up at you unable to tell if you were serious or not he broke out into a small laugh.

“I don’t think that would work in this situation,” An idea tugged on your brain when König’s eyes met yours. You’d be an idiot to pass up on this chance. Despite what the rest of your team thinks you do have a soft spot for König, if you didn’t you probably would have shot him by now. But you secretly like that he followed you everywhere. And you loved how often his eyes were on you. Seeing as the two of you were alone in the middle of nowhere, the team was still probably hours away, so you decided to go for it.

“A distraction could work too,” You walked over to the bed, resting your hands on the edge of the bed, you tilted your head at him, trying to see if he understood what you were saying.

“What kind of distraction?” König obviously didn’t understand what you were getting at but his voice was quieter. You assumed that had to do with how close you had gotten to him.

“One that’ll empty your mind from whatever you're worried about, it’ll relax you too.” Your hand roamed over to his leg. You felt it twitch underneath your finger, and that only made you smile more. As your hand tracked up his leg you kept eye contact with him. His breaths were getting heavier the further you went. When your hand met his arm, the one not so discreetly coving up the bulge in his pants, you spoke again. “I can help if you want.”

König shuddered beneath you. He didn’t want to assume anything, perhaps he was just dirty-minded. When he tried to get rid of those thoughts in his head your hand moved over his, which besides his pants was the only thing covering him. He could feel his entire body light up, all of his blood pumping straight to his cock. The sweet tone in your voice did something to him. He liked it. “Okay.” He whispered.

“You seem nervous, what’s the matter?” You lifted yourself onto the bed and slid into his lap. You could feel the muscles in his thighs flexing as you sat down.

“N-nothing,” You enjoyed König’s stuttering, feeling the effect it had on you between your thighs.

“Move your hand then,” You raised a brow at him in a challenge. He squeezed his eyes shut, probably trying to make his dick less hard. Sighing at his disobedience, you then brought your hands down to his belt. When he felt you loosen it his eyes snapped open. “If you're not going to behave then you get punished, pretty simple rules if you ask me.”

“Bu-,” You cut him off with a shh. Once his belt was off you took your own off as well. Grabbing his left arm you moved it to the headboard, tying his wrist around one of the poles. It took a little more effort with the other arm seeing as he was still trying to hide himself. But once he gave up you were able to tie him up completely. “I don’t understand.”

“I told you, you need a distraction, sex is a distraction,” You began unbuckling his tac vest, you set that to the side and lifted his shirt enough to show his abs. He was beautiful, every inch of him. You hadn’t expected him to be this well-shaped but you definitely weren’t complaining. König’s abs flexed under your fingers as you traced a few old scars. Running your hands up and down his torso. “You have had sex before right?”

“Y-yeah, but isn’t th-this against protocol?” König was clearly worried about getting in trouble but there was no need to be, as long as he didn’t tell anyone about this it would be fine. And seeing as how he hated talking to other people you don’t think that will be a problem.

“Don’t worry about that, no one will find out, I promise,” You looked back up at him hoping he saw the reassurance in your eyes. He gave an okay. As you started unbuttoning his pants you became more excited, you couldn’t wait to see how big he was. It’ll be impressive no doubt, he was a big guy, the biggest guy you’ve ever met actually. Both of you gasped as you pulled him out, well König’s was more of a moan. You expected him to be big but fuck, you hadn’t expected this big. Not only was he long he was pretty thick too. Your mouth waters at the idea of him being inside of you. You quickly took your pants off, tossing them off the bed, your underwear with them.

You spit into your hand, bringing it down to his dick and coating it with your saliva. When you lifted your hips König’s panicked voice flooded your ears, “W-what about a condom?”

“Don’t worry baby I’m on birth control, just relax for me alright?” You kissed the cloth covering his cheek, hoping it would help ease his nerves.

“Oh, alright then, but can you please untie me I really want to touch you,” The desperation in his voice almost made you give in, you wanted to hear him beg more.

“No,” You positioned yourself above him, rubbing the tip of his cock through your puffy folds. You moaned at the sensation, paying a little more attention to your clit. The sound of König’s whimpers made you moan even more, he sounded so perfect. Your mouth fell open as his cock slowly breached your entrance, there was a sharp sting but it was manageable. You could hear König mumbling, something about how he’s always wanted to do this and how tight you feel around him.

You stopped sinking down onto him when it started to hurt, there was only about 2 inches left but you didn’t want to hurt yourself. You propped yourself onto your feet, it would be much easier to move this way given his length. König started squirming under you, “If you ask nicely I’ll start moving.”

König glanced back up to you, “Will you please s-start moving, p-please you feel so good,” Tears brimmed the corners of his eyes. He was really fucking desperate to have you. Your eyes shuttered closed as you started to ride him, you were going slow, testing what made him moan or whimper the most. Once you found the perfect rhythm you lost yourself in the pleasure, your entire body was buzzing, and the burn in your thighs felt painfully good. Your head fell back on your shoulders, your hands grabbing onto König’s chest for stability.

It took a lot of focus to continue riding him, his cock made you feel brain-dead, and it numbed everything but the pleasure he was causing you. You had no idea why you waited so long to do this. “F-fuck, does it f-feel good?” König’s voice broke you out of your trance, when you looked back at him you almost came right there. The lust in his eyes made you want to never stop.

“Feels so good baby, you’re doing so fucking well,” You pressed your chest against his, and your pace quickened as you used one of your hands to lift the veil. Only enough to reveal his mouth. The second you saw his pink puffy lips you crashed yours against his. König immediately kissed you back, swallowing all of your moans. He was an excellent kisser, pushing his tongue into your mouth and using it to explore. That made you think of what his mouth would feel like between your legs.

König started to buck his hips into yours, his thrusts were sloppy but they made you closer to your orgasm. You broke this kiss and sucked in as much air as you could. Laying your head against his chest, you put all of your strength into fucking him. You slammed yourself down repeatedly onto him, chasing your release. You could hear König muttering again, but you weren’t able to understand what he was saying.

With a few more thrusts you were coming around his thick cock, the pleasure racked through your body as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your nails digging into his neck. König followed right behind you, his thrust lodging himself inside of you, painting your walls with his seed.

It took a few minutes before either of you could talk, he was the first to break the silence, “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” You smiled at the concerned tone he had, he was always so attentive and caring.

“I’m alright, you did so good, I’m so proud of you baby,” You weakly lifted off of him, and his hands grabbed onto your hips, helping you move, he put himself away and then went back to holding you against his chest, “Wait, you could’ve untied them yourself this whole time?” You lazily looked up at him, confusion written across your face. “Why didn’t you do it sooner?”

König gave you a gentle smile, his veil still uncovering his mouth. “You said if I misbehave I’d be punished, I didn’t want to upset you.” He kissed your forehead, rubbing your back soothingly. “Maybe we can stay like this for a little while? It feels nice.”

“Of Course we can, and also, a punishment isn’t always a bad thing,” You kissed his chest, relaxing against him again, listening to the steady rate of his heartbeat.

[disneyprincemuke]

the living situation * fem!driver

living with the opposite gender should be more complicated than it is, but when you've been best friends your entire life, it isn't even that weird. right?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: um, we move forward with the logan x femdriver storyline in the og universe HELL YEAH anyway this is all still in 2023 ok! have a good day everybody!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she presses her lips together, stumbling slightly as she tries to peel the heels off her legs. she tilts her head to try and get a look inside her apartment to assess if logan is still awake.

when she's sure that the living room is completely empty, she puts her shoes on the shoe rack and starts walking in. she's looking down at her phone, sending lily a quick text about how another one of her dates simply blew.

she sighs when she enters the living room. she drops herself on the couch and throws her phone next to her when she sends the text message. she throws her head back on the backrest and looks up at the ceiling.

"stupid," she mutters to herself, shaking her head. "what makes you think you'd ever be able to date anybody normally?"

she flinches when she hears a door open, jumping up when it opens and logan walks out. "oh." he raises his eyebrows at the sight of her, standing still where he is with a mug in his hand. "home so soon? i wasn't expecting you until midnight at best."

"yeah, i cut the date short," she smiles tiredly. she moves to the side when logan approaches her and occupies the empty spot. "he had too much to say about my participation in f1."

"he's a dick. i'm sorry," logan says. "are you okay?"

she shrugs. "maybe i'm just not supposed to date anybody at all. maybe i should just be alone."

"don't say that," logan laughs, poking her shoulder. "90 per cent of guys are weird. trust that you'll find the right guy for you."

she shrugs again. she turns to him, barely being able to make out his features in the darkness of their apartment. she could some how imagine the small smile he's giving her and the way his green eyes are empathetically looking at her. "i don't know. i think i'll just be a cat lady."

"i'll go and fetch the moët," logan giggles, somehow finding her knee to pat. his touch lingers a second longer than she expects, her heart suddenly skipping a quick beat in her chest, and he pushes himself up and walks to the kitchen.

she shakes her head as she pulls her jacket off her shoulders. this tingling that she feels in her chest at his touch is just a result of another failed date. there is nothing more to it.

and, if you spend this much time around your best friend and roommate, it's probably normal to fantasize about dating them sometimes, right? right?

or, at least that's what she tells herself when she finds herself laying in her bed alone during nights she can't seem to get some sleep. sometimes she thinks about grabbing her stuffed animal and knocking on logan's bedroom door to find some solace.

but would it even be worth it?

logan opens the door quietly, glancing over his shoulder to smile at the girl out in the hallway. he holds the door with his body and moves aside to let her in.

"um, just," he whispers, staring at the ground, "take off your shoes here. my roommate's very particular about shoes inside the apartment."

he tilts his head and tries to look further into the apartment, unsure if it's a good time to even be bringing his date back home. surely, she would be asleep, right? it's 3 in the morning.

he keeps his hand on his date's shoulder as he navigates further into the apartment. he quickly scoops stubby into his arms when he approaches, not wanting to draw attention to himself. and knowing her, she would try to make a friend out of his date and he would objectively lose another date to her.

but he is mildly confused when he approaches the living room, slightly illuminated by the tv. he moves his attention to the couch and sighs when she's curled up into a ball, a blanket loosely hanging over her feet and a stuffed animal in her arms.

"this one's my room," he whispers, opening the door to his bedroom. "do you want a glass of water? any snacks?"

the girl smiles, shaking her jacket off. he switches on the lights. "maybe a glass of water, please. thank you."

"alright, i'll be back. this is stubby." he bends down and puts the corgi on the ground, smiling when he accompanies the girl who is walking over to his bed. "give me a minute, okay?"

she smiles at him as he closes the door, briefly watching her interact with stubby. he turns back to the tv and sighs softly, quietly padding around the living room to get to her on the couch. he drops himself into a kneel and grabs her shoulder, shaking her as gently as possible so as not to startle her.

"yeah, i'm watching bluey, but it's not weird," she says under her breath, sitting up quickly. she tilts her head. "oh, you're home. how was your date?"

"she's in my bedroom. are you okay? you fell asleep on the couch," logan smiles, moving back slightly. "and bluey? seriously?"

"i'm educating myself on how to be the parent i'll never be," she shrugs, gesturing towards the tv. "why are you here with me when your date's inside the room?"

"you should get some rest where it's comfortable," he sighs, pushing himself up to stand. "the couch isn't good for your back. or your neck. or your arms, with the way you were positioned earlier."

"wow, who crowned you ruler of the couch surfers?" she jokes, standing up and gathering her items from the couch. she smiles as logan leaves her to walk into the kitchen. folding her blankets over her chest and grabbing her stuffed toy from the couch, she then walks to her bedroom door as logan approaches his. "do you need me to take stubby?"

"no, uh," logan presses his lips together, "i'm not sleeping with her. she's really great. i think i'll take it slow."

a small smile spreads her lips. she releases a heavy breath and takes a step away from logan. admittedly, it does slightly sting that he's suddenly connecting emotionally with someone who's not her. but they're just friends, after all.

"oh, that's great," she whispers. "i'll make pancakes for breakfast - if she's still around."

"goodnight," logan smiles before disappearing into his bedroom. "rest well, dude."

she stares at logan's bedroom door for a moment. perhaps the crush she thought she got over three years ago never went away, because why did her chest feel fuzzy at the thought of logan getting serious with someone else?

she pushes her hair behind her ear and she opens her bedroom door. she wouldn't get sleep that night, completely distracted by the conversation and giggles that would occasionally get too loud in the bedroom next to her.

"come off it," is the first thing that logan hears when he wakes up from his nap. at the foot of his bed, stubby is curled up and staring at him with wide eyes.

"is that (y/n)?" he asks the corgi, but giggles to himself when he realises that he's speaking to a dog. although, he would definitely start freaking out if stubby were to answer him. "who is she fighting with?"

he looks at the cat resting his head on the corgi's body. "do you know who she's fighting with?"

the cat simply meows at it before his eyes flutter closed, nuzzling his cheeks into stubby's body. logan nods to himself as he slowly climbs out of bed and creaks the door open to get a glance at the girl in the living room.

"seriously, you should just go," he sees her throwing her arms into the air and walking towards the entryway of their apartment. "i can't believe you thought i was going to sleep with you!"

"you invited me up for coffee. it's 11 in the evening!" he hears a deeper voice answer her. he raises an eyebrow, opening the door slightly wider to get a look at the person in his living room.

he didn't even know that she left for a date, much less leave the apartment in the first place.

"tea! i invited you up for a cup of tea!" she shrieks. he watches with a small smile when she comes back into his view and starts to yank the unnamed man towards their door. "just go! you're disgusting!"

"how, exactly?"

"like i prepared a cup of tea and i came back to you naked in my living room," she mutters.

with the revelation, logan could no longer contain his shock. he audibly gasps, followed by a giggle that he couldn't hold back. her head snaps over to where he is and he takes it upon himself to open the door to show himself to them.

"mate, you should listen to the lady and go," logan mutters, gesturing towards the door. he giggles as he clasps his hands together. "because if she doesn't beat you up, i will."

"piss off. this has nothing to do with you."

she raises an eyebrow and tilts her head. "you don't think i could beat you? want me to show you out in the hall?" she scoffs, shoving the man towards the door again. "just go! make this as least painful as you can for the betterment of your health."

it takes a while for her to get him out of their apartment, but when she does, logan steps out of his room with a loud laugh. "mate, do you have the magnetic force to attract all the weirdos of the earth?"

"shut up, logan," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. she closes the front door behind her and pulls her hair back. she's still in what she'd worn out: the floral d&g dress that she's decided to make her signature outfit and a fluffy white jacket to keep her from the cold. "seriously, i'm going to be single for the rest of my life! it's not funny!"

"you're only 21, calm down," logan laughs and walks into the kitchen. he sighs when he opens the fridge, and then the freezer to be greeted with empty and unstocked shelves. "wanna head to oscar and lily's? i'm sure they have dinner."

"hey, what's wrong?" she asks, walking into the living room. she is greeted by the sight of logan drinking wine straight from the bottle with stubby in his lap. "are you alright?"

"i got dumped," logan mutters, taking another swig of the wine. he looks down at his phone and doesn't spare her another stare. "not really. it's just easier to say it like that."

"oh, i'm so sorry," she mutters. but she doesn't approach him. she turns on her heel and heads right into the kitchen, making logan throw his head back and a hand into the air to question the way she is handling the situation.

she comes back out with a wine bottle in her hand, already opening the bottle halfway. "i don't know how to make you feel better. and i know you won't talk about it until you're ready," she smiles. she takes the empty spot next to logan and folds her legs under her body. "so i'll just drink with you."

"how do you know that? i could tell you about it right now and you'd be too wasted to give me advice," logan mutters, dropping his phone.

she scowls. "i've lived with you half my life. you think i don't know what you're like after a breakup?" she laughs and throws the cork on their coffee table. "that's funny."

"which one are you drinking?" logan mutters, reaching over to take a look at her bottle. "oh, rosé. fancy."

"just drink," she mutters. she holds the bottle up towards logan. to which, he clinks his own bottle with hers as they individually sip their wine in silence.

they drink objectively quick at first: talking about the year they just had with every chug of their wine in their hands. eventually, she wound up with her feet in logan's lap. stubby has run off to drink some water from his bowl and never left the designated feeding area in their apartment.

suddenly they've halved their wine. both bottles are on the coffee table as she lies back on the couch, giggling when logan grabs her calf. "i just think the male population should be taxed whenever they want to speak," she slurs, lifting her head slightly to look at logan. "thoughts?"

"agree. i wish people would stop asking me questions," logan shakes his head. "i just want to be by myself."

and when there's merely a couple of sips left in their wine, they're now on the floor. their feet are up on the couch and their backs are against the cold material of the floor. her hair is sprawled on the floor with her hands over her stomach.

there's a redness that peeks through her cheeks and neck as she feels herself grow more intoxicated through the night. meanwhile, logan is next to her completely red with a coy smile on his face.

"do you remember three years ago?" she mutters, eyelids fluttering close as her voice becomes softer with every word.

"a lot happened three years ago," logan giggles. "i had a crush on you three years ago."

"that's what i'm talking about."

she turns her head to look at him, a lump growing in her throat when logan is already looking at her. "i should have made a move," logan whispers to her with a small smile. "is that what you were getting at? that's why you brought it up?"

"should have?" she whispers, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"well, yeah," logan shrugs, tearing his eyes away from her to look up at the ceiling. "it's different now. it's complicated now, don't you think?"

"i guess," she whispers, letting her stare linger before looking back up at the ceiling. "are you going to remember any of this in the morning?"

"i don't think so. i can't feel my face."

"that's because you soloed the red wine."

"you soloed the rosé - you're not that much better than me."

she breathes out. "we're just as bad as each other, i guess."

she freezes when she feels logan patting around the ground, eventually finding her hand on her stomach. he tears her hands off one another, intertwining his fingers with hers and rests their hands between their bodies.

"you know we can't, right?" she whispers suddenly, squeezing his hand. "there's too much on the line. for you. for me."

"just give me this one," logan says, just barely above a whisper. he reciprocates the squeeze, pulling their hands closer to his body. "not like we'll remember it in the morning."

"yeah, okay."

but she wakes up that morning alone in her bed, with a glass of water and an advil pill on the bedside table. she sighs softly and lifts her hands to her sight. she can still vividly remember how logan's hands felt in hers.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozart @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[vanyatas]

omg hii !! can you write a clapton smut where the reader (a girl) turns him into a pathetic whiny mess ? like overstim or violently riding him im begging you 😭 ik he seems to talk a lot when hes around ppl but i think he would be sooo obedient during intimate moments 😵‍💫

no ur so true say it with UR CHEST !!!! FUCK !!!!!!!

EDGING.

Clapton davis x Fem.Reader

tags: Whiny Clapton (😋), Blowjob/Handjob, Dom Reader (MUAHAHAHAH), Edging, Overstimulation, Begging, Cum eating.

Always let me know if i forgot anything!!

Clapton Davis was probably the most popular guy in school, Already naturally gorgeous, Laid back hipster with no fucks to give, Kind and charismatic, it’s hard not to be when it comes to him naturally, Bold and optimistic, usually just confident all around.

He knew all of this about himself but. Here he is out of breath, tears threatening to leak out of his eyes, gripping onto your forearm as you’re repeatedly swiping your thumb across his already pleading cock head. Whines and whimpers, Pleads and cries for you to just let him cum as he’s doing everything in his will not to twitch and thrash around.

He remembers how he got here, he remembers hearing the teacher praise you about how you have the highest test scores of everyone in the class. How his ears rang when Mr.Kendall said Clapton should start taking after You.

At the time he was too busy trying to make Ione laugh and trying to impress her. Lighting the beaker in front of him, just for the fire alarm to go off and soaking the entire class in water.

At first he just laughed. It was a bit silly even if he knew something stupid, Then a bright smile etched his features as their teacher placed the graded test on his soaking wet desk. A blocky A was shining directly in his eyes. “Woah an A, Thank you!!” However as soon as he spoke those words the teacher leaned down to erase it into an F.

A defeated look replaced his features. His eyes lingered over to you as you try to wring out your jacket and save your homework and papers.

Another smile fell onto his face, The bell rang and he skipped his way over to you, a slightly startled expression he was met with.

Conversing with you, his mind was stuck on one thing. This was going to be too easy.

Yet here he is, Notes and practice tests scattered across the bed and floor as he’s staring directly at you. His mouth was completely soaked from his own drool, No matter how bad he wanted to cum it felt so fucking good being edged.

You’re cooing in his ear about how good he was doing and how gorgeous he looked being this slutty mess for you, your free hand wiped his drool away placing a kiss on his mouth and on his face.

Immediately he had reciprocated but stuffed his face in your neck, gripping onto your waist and your arm. “Mmmfmf Fuck Please. I wanna cum. I wanna cum so baddddd! Please please p-please let.” interrupted by his own loud whimper hiding his face deeper into your shoulder. “Y/N. Please ffuck. Please let me cum.”

His voice was strained, his neon teal shirt was soaked in his sweat. You’ve been at this for hours. He genuinely can’t believe he’s losing his mind over someone who he initially wanted to convince to cheat off of. You were pretty, You had the nicest voice ever, You were sweeter to him than any other girl he’s met. Easily he was slipped into this sort of submission after he kissed you. Felt your hands gently pawing at his chest and arms. Which lead you to your current situation.

“Clapton you’re doing so well for me.” You purred into his ear. Another swipe at his tip and he gasped grabbing at you tighter, if he even could. “You’ve held out for so long I think I can spare a bit of mercy.” you teased which made him feel even more light headed if he even could.

He felt you remove your hand off of his dick and he whined softly at the loss of contact. You gave him a small kiss on his nose and whispered. “Lay on your back.” he was at the start but he has found himself on his side trying to buck his hips into your hand.

Doing as he was told he felt his face get hot. He was still hard. It didn’t help to see you moving between his thighs which made him whine at just the sight. His body shivered as you started to place kisses against his length. One of his hand moved to hold your head very softly, just petting your hair and moving it out of your face. You were very pretty and he couldn’t help but bend to anything and everything you did.

Your hot mouth had encased itself around him and he let out a loud yelp. Your tongue softly flicked and moved around his weeping tip. “PleasePleasePlease Fuck.” he cried covering his eyes with his arm as his grip on your hair tightened. Tears spilled from his eyes, This feeling was too much but he didn’t want it to stop.

Your head bobbed lower taking in a majority of him in, with every move of your own he let out loud moans and pants, he doesn’t know how much more he could take.

You could tell, the way his hips bucked into your mouth out of instinct and his dick twitching and leaking unholy amounts of precum against your taste buds wasn’t unnoticed. You pulled your mouth off of him for just a second, soft kitten licks against him. “You can cum anytime you want gorgeous.” you whispered loud enough for him to hear, your mouth instantly wrapped back around him.

Clapton wasted no time, Gripping your head with both of his hands his eyes shakily stared at you as his bottom lip quivered, “Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Oh my god!” he basically shouted out as he finally was able to finish. he threw his head back and let out a soft whimper almost filling your mouth too much.

Wiping away your drool you swallowed before pushing yourself up to lay right next to him. He was still breathless. you wrapped your arms around him which he, without a second of doubt shoved his face between your chest and curled into you.

This made you giggle softly, stroking the back of his hair you kissed him all over his head which he leaned back to let you kiss his face, placing a million everywhere he just smiled at you lazily obviously exhausted from the relentless teasing you gave him.

“Can we study tomorrow? I’m so tired dude.”

Another giggle.

“Of course Clapton.”

————————

i need him so fucking bad chat i want him to skate across my mouth with HIS.

[rubra-wav]

That hc you made a while back about mirror sex with Vox has not left my brain. Can we get some top Vox fucking into reader in front of a mirror?

The Person In The Mirror : Vox x reader smut

A/N Any Naethen Apollo fans here? 🫡

Wav writing domtop Vox twice in a row 🤨 Likelier than you'd think (Next req is domtop Vox as well actually lmao)

Cw: NSFW/18+, gn!reader, mirror sex obv, domtop Vox/bottom reader, humiliation/degradation, light pain play, sadism

- There is not much that Vox would enjoy more than the filthiest mirror sex on the planet with his partner where he's in control.

- Vox's go-to position for mirror sex where he's top would undeniably be something where he could see everything.

- He'd be fucking into you while you're in his lap, facing you towards the mirror with both of his claws gripping hard into your thighs and spreading them wide open so he could see his dick pumping in and out of you again and again.

- You'd be second fiddle for being watched because it would just be this asshole watching himself more than you through everything, or at least most of it.

- Vox's eyes would be fixated on himself as if mesmerised.

- Dominating you roughly would drive him absolutely crazy on a normal day, but actually getting to watch himself as he does it does things to him.

- Just being some random sex friend or one night stand doing this would absolutely suck because the chances you actually get off in that situation are pretty low.

- He would be entirely self-focused and would be fucking you with absolute abandon as he chases his own release, rutting and panting as he stares into his own eyes with a drooling grin.

- If you are his S/O and he actually cares to look to you during it, he would focus on trying to get you there too however.

- As his S/O, I hope you're ready to receive an utterly dizzying mixture of possessive degradation and praise in that position.

- He'd take one hand off of your thigh, revealing brusies and indents from where his claws have been kissing your skin roughly, to scrape over your scalp before grabbing your hair hard to pull your head back and growl into your ear.

- Calling you his, telling you how filthy you are for taking him like this, praising you for how good you feel around him. Calling you his doll and meaning it.

- Whatever pulls humiliated whines from you, he would be saying it.

- He would be making you kiss him open-mouthed and messily, wrapping his tongue around yours as he urges your own to do the same with no form of shame at all.

- He'd force you to look ahead at yourself in the mirror while you came, telling you what a beautiful fucked out mess you were for him, running his tongue up your neck as he feels you clench down onto him with even more pleasurable tightness then you had been throughout.

- When he orgasms inside of you, he'd keep you in that same position for bit just so he can watch his come slowly drip out of you and onto the sheets below with a breathy laugh.

- Afterwards, you would be cared for, but you'll be feeling the aftermath of it that's for damn sure.

- He would love to see you struggling to walk properly afterwards too.

- He'd likely treat you like you're annoying for 'making him help you', but he would be going wild internally about it. He'd like to act like you're so dependant and needy for him that you're unable to be without him.

Him being the sadistic cunt he is 💀

Bro even if he was significantly changed for the better this situation would bring the absolute worst out of him imo.

Feeding the bottoms omfg

Masterlist

[joojeans]

˚◞♡ ⃗ I Dare You Pt. 3

♡ Bestfriend!Nicholas x Afab!Reader

♡ Summary: You’re sitting on the floor with your friends playing a juvenile game–truth or dare. Things have been spiraling out of control for some time now, but what happens when you’re dared to turn on one of your best friends without touching them? Can they handle it? Can you handle it? Spoiler alert: neither of you can. Find out how things go from seriously fucked up to seriously fucked, one member at a time.

♡ WC: 3.9k

♡ Content: lbr nicholas needs a warning all on his own, nicholas is falsely confident at the beginning, the boys are on each other's asses, reader is head empty only nicholas (real), oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (be smart), 'baby' used a couple of times, creampie

♡ PREVIOUS | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT

“You’re so cute. You can barely handle telling us a little dirty secret without your ears getting all red.”

You can barely hear Nicholas–your attention on K’s phone as he shows you a funny video–but you know he’s talking to Euijoo. It was just his turn during this round of truth or dare. You think you remember the question being about a fantasy of his, but you weren’t really paying attention, to be perfectly honest. You thought K wasn’t either until you hear him scoff at Nicholas’s teasing, looking up from his phone with a taunting smirk.

“I wouldn’t talk if I were you. You get a tent in your pants if the wind blows the wrong way.”

You look up now, choking back a laugh at a smug Euijoo and an annoyed Nicholas, tongue pushing into his cheek.

“Hey, fuck you.” Nicholas retorts, half playful, half deadly serious.

“Prove it then.” Euijoo. Silence follows for a second as everyone looks at him curiously. His ears are burning slightly from all the attention, but he’s determined not to back down right now. “It’s your turn. Let’s see how easily you crumble with a little attention.”

“Bro, unless you’re planning on making a move on me, I’m not following.”

Euijoo hesitates for a moment, realizing he hasn’t thought his plan and its implications through. He reluctantly looks in your direction but he can’t bring himself to say what he was thinking. Luckily for him, Fuma seems to understand. He chuckles.

“Y/n, I think he’s suggesting that you should be the one to give this a go.”

You watch as Nicholas’s eyes grow wide, shocked. Somehow even more shocked, Euijoo sits up straight from his spot on the couch, shaking his head insistently. “N-no. I didn’t mean that. You don’t have to do that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t think I was–”

“Euijoo, relax. It’s fine.” You laugh, a fondness in your heart. “Obviously I should be the one to give this a go. Look at me. He wouldn’t be able to resist.” You wink, hoping to soothe his nerves. It seems to work, his shoulders relaxing and his bright smile creeping back onto his face.

You dart your eyes next to him: Nicholas. He looks antsy–nervous?–thinly veiled with surety. As expected.

“So? Are you going to let me try? I believe this is your dare, so it’ll look really embarrassing for you if you chicken out.” You’re poking the bear. You’re smug.

Nicholas exhales a laugh, his eyebrows indicating his surprise at the situation he’s found himself in. “I’m not going to stop you.”

You smirk. Perfect. “Okay, so what are the rules?” You ask, glancing at everyone else for guidelines. Nicholas probably doesn’t have much of a say here.

“I think…” K starts, humming as he ponders. “Everything is fair game as long as you don’t touch his dick. That would be too easy.” The other men mumble their agreement, heads nodding.

“Easy enough. You ready?”

Peacocking, Nicholas sits further back into the couch, spreading his arms out along the cushions on either side of his head. He lets his legs fall open, inviting you to his entire body. No verbal confirmation needed.

You don’t believe him. You know you can get him to fold. Without wasting much time, you stand up and make your way to the couch. Once you’re standing in front of Nicholas, his eyes firmly on yours, Euijoo quickly moves from his end of the couch, taking the seat on the floor next to K.

You’re just gazing at each other. He’s looking up at you like he’s expecting your best effort. You’re looking at him like you can’t wait to fuck with his head. Smiling much too sweetly, you slowly lower yourself to your knees in front of him. His eyes follow you, a glimmer of fear igniting in them. You know exactly what he’s afraid of. He knows he’s fucked already. He’s still trying to pretend that’s not the case.

“Hi, Nicholas.” You coo, both hands curling over his kneecaps.

“Hey,” he says simply. He doesn’t plan on giving you much to work with. That’s okay.

“I hope you’re having fun tonight.” Your hands glide slowly up the tops of his thighs, venturing to the outer sides as you move higher, careful to avoid his crotch. His eyes are trying to decide whether to look at you or watch your hands, ping ponging back and forth. “I know I am.” Your hands move up to his hips, finding the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers curl into the belt loops on the sides.

And then you pull.

Just enough to yank his body down the couch a bit more. Just enough to have his torso almost parallel to the ceiling. The soft, surprised gasp that pushes out of his lips is gorgeous.

Just this much is enough to extinguish the confidence in his eyes almost completely.

You fight the urge to smirk at him, keeping up the innocent appearance despite your actions being anything but. You untangle your fingers from his belt loops, your hands hovering by his sides as you look up at him. “That’s better, isn’t it? Much more comfortable this way.” You muse the words, not believing them, but selling them to him anyway. You keep your eyes on his as your thumbs hook under the hem of his t-shirt. You push your hands up slowly until his stomach is exposed to you and then you stop. His lips are parted in awe.

In an attempt to lighten the tension that’s building up in his body, Nicholas forces a laugh. “Y/n, what are you even doing? This is ridiculous…”

“Mm.” You hum, tilting your head like a confused puppy, your lashes batting sweetly. You don’t humor him, instead leaning down towards his stomach. You see his skin jump as you approach it, your lips far too close. “Pretty,” you mumble, bringing your hand up to stroke the small tuft of hair above his jeans. He tenses more. You smile.

“Y/n.”

You pause for just a moment to look back up at him. You want to give him the opportunity to stop you if he’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything more. You know it’s just stalling. So you continue, moving your hands to hold his waist securely as you close the space between the two of you, placing gentle, open-mouthed kisses on his stomach.

You can tell from the shaky exhales and the single fuck that you both know he’s lost already. You don’t need to do much more, but you’re having a good time. You move your lips over his skin, covering every inch of his stomach with a wet kiss. 

To your surprise (and pleasure), you feel Nicholas’s hand slide into the back of your hair, his fingers curling to hold you there, to keep you doing what you’re doing. The unexpected move makes you freeze for just a moment, your attention momentarily drifting to a stirring in your stomach. You’ve got to finish up. You are not supposed to be the one turned on by this.

Eager to put an end to this before it gets out of control, you set up for your final move. Your lips kiss down the soft happy trail guiding you to his jeans. You don’t have to see Nicholas to know he’s watching with bated breath, secretly hoping you’re going to properly finish him off. 

Alas, that would be against the rules.

Taking advantage of his hope, you move your lips just over the waistband of his jeans, collecting the button in your mouth. You pull just slightly with your teeth and then the worst thing imaginable happens: Nicholas moans.

Oh no. Now the sensation in your stomach is wafting lower, taking up residence between your plush thighs.

You let the button snap free of your teeth and pull back slightly. You internally recenter yourself as best as you can, taking notice of the fact that Nicholas’s jeans aren’t hiding his obvious arousal. Seeing your success lets you forget your own growing arousal momentarily, a proud smirk on your lips as you look back up to Nicholas. “Well, would you look at that?”

Groaning when he realizes you’re really going to stop here, Nicholas rolls his eyes and grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap. “Oh, fuck off. Any of the guys in here would have responded the same.”

The room erupts with snickers. Not sure where to sit now that Euijoo is in your spot, you move up to sit next to Nicholas on the couch. He’s mindlessly playing with the rings on his fingers, trying to distract himself from his own urges. You almost feel bad until you remember how smug he was.

Everyone tries to steer the night back into a less tense direction for the next few minutes, but it’s not working for Nicholas.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” He says suddenly. “Thanks to all of you, I now have a problem to take care of.” Assuring everyone that he’s not upset, he playfully throws the pillow he was holding at Euijoo and smiles the way he always does. He turns to look at you, equally playful. “Thanks, y/n. You’re truly evil.”

You watch as he stands up, tucking his phone into his pocket and grabbing his keys from the table. He says his goodbyes and then he’s gone. Just like that.

Or so you think.

Only moments after the front door closes behind him, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out only to find a message from Nicholas.

Meet me at my place in 20.

Oh. Oh.

You look up, relieved to see none of the guys are paying attention to you, too busy staring at K’s phone screen like you had been doing earlier. It’s a perfect out, you realize.

“Well…” You start, waiting for them to look at you so you know you have their attention for the small act you’re about to put on for them. “I think I should get going too. You guys are entertaining yourselves and I think I need to wash my mouth out with soap after what you made me do.”

K laughs. Fuma and Euijoo nod their understanding, wincing as if they were the ones that were touching Nicholas like that. No one protests.

-

As you step out of the uber outside Nicholas’s apartment, reality finally settles in.

What am I doing here? Why did I just do what Nicholas told me to do without thinking about it? Why did I make up an excuse to come here? Why am I not changing my mind? Why are my feet already making their way to his door? Why am I knocking?

Nicholas opens the door and only then do you realize how fast your heart is beating.

He looks exactly the same as he did before but you’re not seeing him the same right now. Without a word, he steps to the side, inviting you in. He seems to be pretty sure that you’ll do so, but can you blame him? You just came to his apartment without so much as a question. You step inside, feeling the light of his apartment dim as he closes the door behind you.

You’re just standing there now. You feel and must look awkward, but you’re not sure what to do. You have an idea of why he might’ve invited you, but you don’t want to assume and look like a fool in front of him. So you just stand. Waiting.

You glance down when you feel Nicholas’s hand capture yours in his, gently pulling you to him as he leans against the wall perpendicular to his front door. You’re pressed to his chest–hands resting there–and your eyes are locked on each other’s. He lets go of your hand, letting his hands take up residence around your waist instead. His hands feel secure on your lower back.

Everything is way too quiet for how bizarre this is.

“So did you have fun?” It’s like he could sense your objection to the silence.

“I…” You swallow, not quite sure how to answer. “Yeah.”

A small smirk on his lips, a peek of pretty teeth. “Yeah?” His tongue glides over his bottom lip, one of his hands playing with the hem of your shirt at the back. He never takes his eyes from you. “So then we should keep having fun, right?”

You narrow your eyes, partly to disguise your intrigue. “That’s what you called me here for? It was a dare, Nicholas. I didn’t come here to fuck you.”

“I didn’t call you here to fuck you. I just thought we could maybe…” His eyes fall to your lips, his smirk widening. He glances back up to your eyes, briefly searching for a hint of opposition and finds none. He drops his head slightly, pressing his lips to your jaw, kissing across it until he’s in perfect proximity to your ear. “I thought maybe we could make out a little. What do you think?”

You don’t think. You can’t. All you can do is feel the burn from his lips and imagine that feeling everywhere else. Your eyes close briefly as you try to find some semblance of self-control. Nicholas must notice because he allows himself a soft chuckle before taking hold of your chin. Your eyes open again and he’s looking down his nose at you. “If you don’t tell me you’re not interested, I’m going to kiss you.”

You can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t want him to kiss you, but you’re too stubborn to admit you want it. So you keep quiet, swallowing the remnants of the resistance you never had to begin with. As promised, Nicholas leans in, hand still holding your chin in place for him, and presses his lips to yours.

It starts out light, lips barely moving against each other, afraid to do more than they’re supposed to. Nicholas’s free palm presses flat against your back, pressing you even closer to him, and your mouth opens in surprise. Nicholas takes this as an opportunity to test the waters, licking into your mouth, slowly, carefully, pleased when you moan in response. He drops your chin, his hand sliding into your hair instead as he pushes the gentle kiss into a heated meeting of lips and tongues, his other hand sliding down the back of your jeans, palming the flesh covered by flimsy panties.

Everything is escalating quickly all of a sudden, but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels good.

You let your body fall against Nicholas’s, trusting him to keep you on your feet. One arm moves around his neck, the other hand feeling the skin beneath his shirt. The skin your lips were on not so long ago. You feel the muscles there tense beneath your fingers, his mouth punctuating the effect of your touch by taking your lip between his teeth. He bites hard enough to warn you, but not enough to hurt. You’re not deterred.

Your heads are tilting this way and that, mouths opening and breaths taking on weight as you kiss each other like you’ve been dreaming about it. It’s messy and desperate. He’s trying to pull you impossibly closer and you’re trying to memorize the feeling of his skin. You don’t miss the way his hands tighten in your hair and squeeze your ass each time he pulls a moan from you. You don’t miss the way he’s straining against his jeans, grinding yourself against him, pleased yourself when he groans into your mouth.

He pulls back, shaking his head to clear it, his hands freezing where they are before dropping to his sides. “We should stop.”

Your head is still spinning. You’re still reeling. “I–why?”

Nicholas leans his head back against the wall and looks at you, panting. “Because we’re getting to a point of no return.” He pauses, exhales heavily. “And I want to respect your boundaries.”

No.

You’re panting too, looking at him, searching his eyes. “What if I changed my mind?”

He cocks his head, unsure if he believes you. “You better not be playing with me right now, y/n.”

“I’m not.”

Famous last words.

Nicholas scoops you into his arms, carrying you to his bedroom. His lips are on yours the entire way, not giving either of you a second to think yourselves out of this. He carefully lays you down, hovering over you as he follows. His hands are all over you now–ghosting, groping, gliding. You’re pulling at his shirt and he’s all too happy to pull it off for you, only needing one hand to do so. He tosses it away before his hands focus on yours, sliding it up your body so he can kiss your stomach, his fingers working the fasteners of your jeans.

You use the moment to try and catch your breath, your back arching into every kiss Nicholas places around your navel. So fucking pretty, you hear him mumble more to himself than to you. You sigh dreamily, pushing your hand back through your hair as Nicholas lifts your hips to pull your jeans off. He kisses up the insides of your legs starting from your feet until he’s reached his target–your wet, panty-clad cunt. He presses a kiss to the center before peeling them away, smirking as he listens to you whimper for more contact.

His mouth finds your now-exposed sex like a starved man, tongue swirling around your clit and dipping down through your folds to gather your arousal, to taste it. He hums his satisfaction, eyes closing as he lets himself enjoy feasting on you. You’d swear you’ve never felt anything like it. Your hand grabs at his hair, pulling for some sense of grounding, and he groans, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

Nicholas takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, allowing his eyes to open and look up, wanting to see the way your body shakes in response. You do just that, moaning louder than you anticipate, and Nicholas eats it up. He doesn’t want to make you cum too quickly so he releases your clit, letting only his fingers glide through your slick. “You’re so wet, y/n,” he notes with a smirk. Just an observation, he’d say if you were to challenge him.

“Just take your fucking pants off,” you quip with a smirk of your own.

“Yes ma’am.” He’s grinning now, one hand pumping two fingers into your cunt while the other undresses his lower half.

His fingers feel good. His rings are adding to the stretch and the cold metal makes you shiver. “Fuck,” you sigh, sure you’re in a wet dream. Nicholas chuckles lowly before removing his fingers, much to your dismay. He moves back up your body, letting you watch as he cleans your arousal from his fingers with his mouth. You watch in awe, feeling new waves of it pooling between your thighs. He winks when he finishes, his face hovering just above yours, his hand gripping the side of your neck.

“Last chance to tell me to fuck off.” You can sense his hand stroking his cock between your bodies, waiting only for your go ahead. The cocksure look on his face says he knows you won’t be doing that.

You roll your eyes, both annoyed and fond. “Don’t make me change my mind again.”

Nicholas grins, lowering his mouth back to yours. He’s more nibbling and tugging than kissing this time, his hand guiding his throbbing cock inside you. You both hiss at the initial stretch and resistance, both pairs of eyelids fluttering from the relief. He pushes inside you slowly, making sure not to cause you any discomfort while he bottoms out. “Fuck, you feel so good.” The rasp in his voice is enough to make you clench around him and he hisses again in response.

You tilt your head back as Nicholas’s hand travels up the side of your neck, taking hold of the side of your face as he starts to move, thrusting into you at a pace you both can adjust to well. He keeps your face turned to his with his grip and even though it makes everything feel more intimate than maybe it should, it’s also really fucking hot. “Feels good, baby?” He asks, his eyes boring into yours, his hips slowly picking up their pace. You nod because yeah. It feels so fucking good. Too good, maybe.

You like the feeling of Nicholas keeping you in place the way he wants you. You like the way he’s constantly kissing you as he fucks you, groaning against your lips when he thrusts into you particularly hard, grinning when you moan his name. You like the sight of his hair dripping with sweat and his thick silver chain dangling above you. You like the way he pays so much attention to you, especially when he starts fucking into you at a relentless pace that neither of you will be able to withstand long. You like the way he asks you if it feels good, if you want more, if you’re going to cum for him when he feels you quivering beneath him.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum too.” His voice is so low now that you almost can’t hear him properly. He finally looks away from you, eyes trained on your lower halves. His mouth is open as he puts all of his concentration into hitting just the right spot inside of you, sucking air through his teeth as he staves off his own orgasm until he can pull one out of you. “Come on, baby, cum for me. Let me feel you.”

But you don’t need to be told. He’s hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars, your head pressing back into the mattress under you and your hands clutching at his arms. The moan that accompanies your orgasm is lewd, echoing your gratefulness for release. You twitch as he fucks you through it, equally grateful for your orgasm so he no longer has to postpone his own. His eyes squeeze shut as he releases inside of you and he’s never looked prettier–jaw tense but open, brows furrowed, skin gleaming with sweat. The strangled moan is on loop inside your head, music to your ears.

As Nicholas comes down from his high, he opens his eyes once again, smiling weakly but happily at your fucked out face. He carefully pulls out of you and gathers you in his arms, rolling the two of you over so you’re laying on his chest. His chest is heaving beneath your head, his arm securely around your lower back. Again, you feel like this is maybe a little bit more intimate than it should be, but it still doesn’t feel that way. It just feels comfortable with Nicholas.

You stay silent for a few minutes, both of you catching your breath and recovering. As your brain comes back to you, you have a question.

“Nicholas?” “Yeah, baby?”

You ignore the ‘baby.’ You’ll correct him later. “When we were playing the game earlier, were you imagining what it would be like if I gave you head?”

He laughs. He wasn’t expecting that to be the question right now. “Uh…yeah.”

You laugh now. “So…why was I the one that got head then?”

Nicholas thinks. He thinks some more. “...Ladies first?”

You both laugh this time. He’s implying there will be a next time, you think to yourself. You don’t correct him. You’ll do that later too.

[luminouslywriting]

Heyy, I recently found your blog and omg I’m obsessed🫶It’s so rare seeing people that write for Band of Brothers.

Could you maybe write something about the BoB guys reaction to their new lieutenant being a woman? And they fall in love after a while and stuff. Just a fun little idea lol, have a great day!

Nonny, I adore this idea so much! Enjoy note the fact that my requests are open and I adore spam!

Cut for length, kept short and sweet since I've done some similar things to this, and please note that my requests for Dead Poets Society are also open :)

Dick Winters:

-He's stunned in the best way possible—super impressed with your credentials and your reputation already and gives you the utmost of respect.

-I think he genuinely enjoys working with you and getting to know you—it's a slowburn for sure though.

-Doesn't make a move until he's in Austria with you and you two get to talking about what'll happen at the end of the war and everything :)

Lewis Nixon:

-Laughs at first because he thinks you're joking and then very quickly has to backpedal himself out of the dog house because oh SHIT he did not mean to offend you

-Quickly becomes one of your closest friends and talks to you about a lot of his relationship issues back home—the two of you are a very much "will they, won't they" type of thing

-You probably hook up while in Austria and things just progress from there.

Ronald Speirs:

-Secretly impressed by you the entire time but is not about to share his feelings on that—but he keeps a careful eye on you and makes sure to have your back whenever you need it

-This man is out here just trying to make the men drink 'respect women' juice and that starts w/his example and he's perfectly aware of that.

-Steals a lot of stuff so that he can express his feelings to you with nice things haha

Buck Compton:

-He's pleasantly surprised and waits to make a judgement until he gets to know you—best decision of his life really

-He's out here able to talk to you about literally anything and enjoys your company as a friend first and foremost, which is important to both of you

-He absolutely writes you once he leaves the line and hopes that you come back safe

Carwood Lipton:

-Shows you nothing but the utmost respect and never steps a freakin' toe out of line. He probably isn't even trying to get close to you because he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea about him.

-Bonds with you during Bastogne and deeply admires the way that you carry yourself in hard situations

-Probably asks in a soft tone if he can write take you to a nice restaurant once all of this is over and take you on a date

Joe Liebgott:

-Simp with a capital S, and there's just no putting that any other way. This man hangs onto your every word and then pretends as if he never heard you speak. SIR, GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF.

-In all practicality though, he's probably the type to become your friend and hang out with you/help you integrate with the men

-And when he's talking to Webster about his post-war plans...yes, they involve you and no, you are not aware of them (yet, anyway haha)

Donald Malarkey:

-Also someone who is not about to step a toe out of line or show you any disrespect. He takes the time to listen to your opinions and your orders and values what you have to say.

-It's quite easy for him to fall for you, though he's not going to say anything about it until some liquid luck finds its way into his system during Austria

-Feelings are exchanged and so is a kiss :)

Eugene Roe:

-You are his favorite lieutenant—the most competent person in the world in his eyes—and one of the people he values most.

-He consistently takes the time to check in on you and makes sure that you're doing alright in your leadership position and tries to keep a wary eye out for anything that might do you harm.

-And if you kiss him after the events of Bastogne to get his head back in the game?? Well neither of you is going to kiss and tell haha

Bill Guarnere:

-Doesn't know how to feel about it at first?? He's a little confused and a little standoffish but then he sees how Sobel treats you and he's just not having it

-So the two of you become fast friends after that and integrating into the group is a lot easier with Bill on your side

-Admits that he loves you amidst a bloody and snowy ground in Bastogne and hopes that you'll write to him

Joe Toye:

-Impressed by the fact that you've made it this far and isn't about to go out of his way to make life easier or harder for you. He's just going to simply have your back.

-However, he's a great person to talk to and always will second your opinion or thoughts and add that he thinks it's a good idea.

-Also the type of person who writes you love letters after he ends up back home and hopes that things can work out between the two of you

George Luz:

-Makes a joke about it at first and then realizes that he has colossally messed up–grovels a little bit and does you a few favors before becoming your friend

-He relies on you a lot, especially during some of the heavier times for the company, and if you keep a smile on his face, he falls for you

-Would, in fact, invite you to come home and meet his family (you know, if you want haha)

[st-danger]

This is not depraved at all (unless you take it there somehow 👀)—so I will completely understand if you ignore this as it is not very on brand. We stan the king of ghoul rimming in this house. I really adore your fic about Copia coming home from tour and big boy Aeth sucking his brain out through his dick. I would love to know when the ghouls decided finally show Copia their faces and how it went. Even as itty bitty headcanons. Really glad to hear your surgery went well btw ♡ and thank you for sharing your writing with us! xx, @ghuleh-recs

It isn't actually an expressly forbidden thing. There's no rule that states the ghouls need their faces covered all the time, around the abbey. On stage, of course, but off? Imperator has never made any such decree. (Nihil never did, either, but we all know who's actually in charge.)

They prefer to keep masked when they aren't around only each other. The door to the ghoul common room is near an annex of the building and is locked for a reason; they prefer privacy. It's a lot of work to keep the human glamour going, and there's something about being seen in their true form, in any level, that feels intimate beyond words.

So, when Aether approaches Copia and lays a hand on his shoulder, leans in and invites him back after mass one night, Copia understands the gravity of the situation when he realizes what it is they want to share with him. And standing by the fireplace once inside, with his dear band ghouls surrounding him...he sees their eyes through the metal, knows how keenly he is being watched. Can feel nervousness that is not entirely his. It feels just as much that he's under a spotlight here, now, as it does when he's on stage for a ritual.

"Will you look human at all?" Copia asks softly, peering up at Aether.

"Some of us do," Aether murmurs. "More than Alpha and Omega. Any of the older ghouls."

He once heard Terzo describe looking at Omega's true face as "confusing". He never asked any follow up questions to clarify that statement, but he's always wondered if confusing meant strange to look at, or strange to look at because his human brain couldn't figure out exactly what it was looking at, in an Eldritch horror kind of way. If hellspawn are naturally just beyond what mortal minds can know.

"Are you sure?" Copia asks, though his hands are already reaching towards Aether's face. "You want me to see you?"

"We want you to know us," Aether replies simply, and carefully, so carefully, Copia slides off Aether's mask, like the metal might turn out to be sugar and splinter and break if he isn't gentle.

It's more human than he expects, but still so unnatural it makes him shiver. He sucks in a breath and takes in Aether's features; the deep grey skin, the fangs poking through black lips. His nose looks crooked, the skin pinched in the angles like it had been broken and stretched. There's texture in the skin that makes it look so distinctly inhuman. Copia looks into lavender eyes and gawks.

"Aether," he says, "you're lovely."

A smiling demon is a sight. Aether looks so pleased, and immediately sighs, shoulders slumping as he relaxes. To his right, Swiss laughs.

"He was so worried," he tells Copia, "you were gonna think he was ugly."

"I wasn't worried," Aether mutters, trying to shrug it off. Copia can tell by the petulant tone Swiss is telling the truth.

"Oh yes you were," Swiss says, and then Copia watches his face revealed, the mismatched eyes, the brilliant white of fangs against skin that looks less like skin and more like a void.

And one by one, they make themselves that much more known to Copia. Rain is the last, and the most hesitant. Dew keeps a hand on the small of Rain's back, a soothing little gesture.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Copia reminds him.

"He wants to," Dew says, answering for Rain. "He's just shy." The pale blue of Rain's eyes flash at Dew, and Copia just knows if he could see the expression right now, it would be a withering thing.

Rain lifts the mask away.

There's a weird iridescent quality to the skin. Copia's brain tells him it's wet, but when he reaches out with an ungloved hand and lays it gently against the angle of a cheekbone, it feels dry and warm. His nose is thin. Flat. Stripes under his jaw reveal gills. And where a mouth would be, Copia finds lips that look half melted together. Distinct in one corner, and like ruined wax on the other side. A feature that tried to form, and melted in the fire during his summoning.

"Is this why you're so quiet?" Copia asks carefully.

Rain nods and lets his eyes close, pressing his cheek into the warmth of Copia's palm.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

A freebie for a BBF flashback, any scene/situation you really want to write but haven’t gotten to yet!! (Only if you want!)

Hey there! Here's part 2 of Prom since a few of you asked so nicely. I hope you like it!

5k Weekend Bash Drabbles

Brother's Best Friend - Prom Part 2

Jake Seresin x Reader

“What do you need a suit for?��� you overhear your brother ask.

You hold your breath, trying to make out Jake’s response. “I’m taking your sister to prom.”

You gulp, waiting for Bradley to react. It takes him a full half a minute to speak and, by this point, you’re nearly passing out from lack of oxygen. “You’re what?” he says finally.

Slowly, you exhale, glancing once more at yourself in the mirror. You’ve managed to pull off some spectacular winged eyeliner for the occasion and you’re sort of hoping that you look mature enough for Jake to perhaps start seeing you a little differently. You’ve never actually spent an entire evening alone with him, not without Bradley present. And this, well, this would normally be considered, by definition, a date.

You hear Bradley and Jake shuffling about as Bradley, no doubt, tears his closet apart looking for formal attire. You, meanwhile, take some time to perfect your hairdo. Once you hear your brother and Jake head down to the main floor, you start for the stairs, holding a pair of heels by their straps in one hand and the banister in the other.

The conversation in the kitchen ceases when the floor creaks, and the two of them look up to see you coming down the steps.

Bradley smiles warmly, approaching the foot of the stairs to take your hand and give you a hug. Jake takes a few steps toward you warily, his hands tucked away in the pockets of his – Bradley’s – pants.

“You look really nice,” Jake says once Bradley releases you.

You smile at him sheepishly. “It’s the dress,” you say, absently fluffing the skirt of your gown.

Jake’s mouth curls into a slight grin but he doesn’t respond.

“Alright, you kids have fun, now,” Bradley instructs, clapping Jake on the back as the three of you make your way into the front hall. "And stay out of trouble."

Jake lets you hold his arm as you slide on your heels. “Don’t worry, Bradley,” you say, “I’ll have him home by midnight.”

…

“Any requests?” Jake asks, popping open the glove compartment for you as he pulls out of the driveway.

You rifle through his pile of CDs and pull one out at random to look at the cover. “Cowboys from Hell?” you read the front skeptically.

“Yes,” Jake declares, nodding approvingly.

You make a face and return the CD to the pile in the glove compartment. “Do you have anything in here recorded in the last decade?”

Jake eyes you with a smirk. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

“Let’s just listen to the radio,” you suggest.

…

“You okay?” Jake asks when you stop ten feet away from the door.

You shake your head anxiously.

Jake doubles back, coming to a halt before you, and takes your hands in his. “What’s up, buttercup?”

You meet his gaze with a troubled look. “Sean’s gonna know that this is a pity date.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “First of all,” he says, “fuck Sean.”

You chuckle lightly. “I almost did.”

Jake cringes, dropping your hands immediately. “Eww, I don’t wanna know.”

You raise your eyebrows, amused by his reaction. You imagine your brother would likely respond in the same way, however, so you don't read into it too much. “And second of all?” you ask.

Jake sighs sharply. “Second of all, this is not a pity date. I’m not that compassionate.”

You laugh. Jake likes to act all tough but you know him better than to buy that. “Yeah, you’re such a dick,” you agree with a shake of the head.

“And don’t you forget it,” he says, falling in step with you. He puts a hand on your lower back as he leads you inside. “By the way,” he says, lowering his head so that you could hear him over the music. “It’s not the dress.”

You gulp, nearly fainting as his breath washes over your cheek, and glance up to look at him. “What?” you utter, not even noticing all the stares you get because you've arrived to prom with a college boy.

He stops walking once the two of you are on the dance floor and he holds his hand out for you to take it as a slow song comes on. “You said it’s the dress, when I told you you looked nice,” he reminds you, closing his fingers around your hand while he rests his other hand on your waist. “It’s not.”

You gaze at him, speechless for a moment as he starts to sway you to the – now distant sounding – melody.

“It’s you.”

5k Celly