#...alone is a funny word here though

[not-5-rats]

I've been feeling things, many things

[This is just me rambling abt my feels again, been feeling bit lost inside myself recently, just wanna yap abt it for a while]

I don't know who I am, like I know who I am but there feels like there more than me here

In my head

In my body

There isn't just me, there's others.

From what I hear there aren't many others, only 3 or 4 more, but that's way more than anyone I know has up in their brains

They have names, they have colours and styles they enjoy...one even has an age...but I'm not that age, this body isn't that age. They enjoy different types of music, different foods and it's so confusing trying to organise how this room should look because everyone has a different opinion

Sometimes they're quiet and sometimes they're loud, they never really do anything, like they commentate my life never personally taking action...but recently one did do something

I lost my cool with a friend, I sent him lots or angry/ hateful messages but I didn't want to be saying that. I held my phone and refused to read what I was writing..but I didn't have to because someone else was, they felt angry, I could understand that, but I wasn't. Jet wasn't angry, but somebody was, and I don't know who else it could be

I never felt so out of myself before, like yeah I've disassociated, I've felt out of control, out of touch, but I've never felt like my body was getting mixed signals, not like this

I'm scared, I don't know what's going on

I'm feeling all these emotions but they're not mine, I'm having all these dream like memories that aren't mine and I just feel so lost

I don't know who I am

But I know who Jet is

I am Jet, but I feel like there are others who respond to my name as though it's their own

[mengyan]

when it comes to people who acknowledge and love all sides of jiang xuening, shen zhiyi cannot be forgotten.

yes, dianxia does have a bit of a lovesick filter on when it comes to her beloved ningning, but she also knows who jiang xuening is as a person. she isn’t so blind as to casually miss her fierce temper, ignore her schemes and manipulation, and disregard her poor choices— you can see it in shen zhiyi’s expressions and tone, the concerns she voices, and particularly through her perspective in the novel— but these things could never make her love jiang xuening any less.

shen zhiyi isn’t oblivious. she knows that jiang xuening uses her at times to get what she wants, but what’s important is that she doesn’t care. she never has and she never will, because everything she does is her choice. she only wants jiang xuening to know that she doesn’t have to do anything at all to get her support, because she will always be there by her side, without any conditions attached.

there is no doubt that jiang xuening is the person she trusts most in the world. even if jiang xuening makes a decision she doesn’t particularly agree with, she will still never raise any complaint to her. shen zhiyi trusts that jiang xuening’s judgment and choices are right for herself, even if they’re not right to her, and it’s as simple as that. if there are any consequences, she will be there to resolve them. jiang xuening couldn’t lose her if she tried.

shen zhiyi and xie wei are the only two characters in kunning who see past all of jiang xuening’s sides, good and bad, and still recognize her true heart. the way they love her is different but also the same; if shen zhiyi is her shield, then xie wei is her sword.

and jiang xuening chooses them both.

[sskk-manifesto]

What a good episode. Maaaaaan

[missdynamighttt]

if husband! katsuki had a dream that you served him divorce papers, he would be SO mad at you.

katsuki woke up with a start, his chest heaving as the remnants of the vivid dream clung to his mind. in the dream, you had stood in front of him, utterly calm, as you handed him his worst nightmare: divorce papers.

“it's not you, its me,” you said, your expression indifferent as if breaking his heart meant nothing. "i'm just bored, katsuki."

it wasn’t real, he knew that. but the image of you walking away from him felt too real, too painful. the words echoed in his head as he sat on the edge of the bed, his fists clenched. bored? how could you say that after everything you've been through? even though it was just a dream, it shook him to near death.

and when katsuki saw you later that morning, smiling and greeting him like usual, he couldn’t help but scowl. normally, the sight would calm him, but instead, a strange sense of betrayal bubbled up inside him. how could dream-you say something like that? and why couldn’t he shake the feeling?

“morning, katsuki,” you said cheerfully, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

he turned his head slightly, causing your lips to brush his jaw instead. you blinked, confused. “uh… everything okay?”

“fine,” he muttered, getting up and leaving you all alone in the bed.

all day, katsuki avoided your texts, kept his responses curt, and barely looked your way when you crossed paths at home. you quickly realized something was off but couldn’t figure out what. by evening, you had enough.

"okay, whats your problem? you've been sulking all day,” you said firmly, standing in front of him while he sat on the couch. “you’ve been acting like i killed your damn dog. what did i do?”

katsuki glared at you, his emotions finally bubbling over. “you left me! that’s what you did!”

you stared at him, completely baffled. “what are you talking about? i didn’t leave you. i’ve been here all day!”

katsuki exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “fine. i had this stupid dream, alright? you—” he hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “you divorced me. you said you were bored and just... left me.”

for a moment, there was silence as you processed what he was saying. then, to katsuki’s annoyance, you started laughing.

“you’re mad at me... because of a dream?” you asked, your laughter bubbling out uncontrollably.

“it felt real!” he barked, his cheeks flushing slightly. “you don’t get to laugh! this isn't fuckin' funny! do you know how shitty that felt?!”

“i’m sorry!” you gasped between giggles, clutching your stomach. “it’s just… do you really think i’d ever do that?”

katsuki’s scowl deepened. “its not that. its just... you said it so casually in the dream. like i didn’t even matter.”

you tried to stifle your laughter, but your amusement was clear as day. “katsuki... you’re everything to me. i would never leave you. ever. especially not because i was bored. you’re the opposite of boring. you’re the most stubborn, infuriating, incredible man I’ve ever met.”

he grunted, looking away. “tch. doesn’t change the fact that it felt real.”

you bit your lip, guilt swirling in your chest. you could see how much the dream had affected katsuki, even if it wasn’t real. determined to make it up to him, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and cupped his face in your hands.

“i’m sorry your brain decided to torture you like that,” you said softly before leaning in to pepper his face with kisses. “but let me remind you of how much i love you.”

your lips pressed against his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and finally, his lips. each kiss was light and playful, drawing a reluctant smirk from him.

“sweets,” katsuki muttered, trying to keep up the tough act, but you didn’t let up.

you continued your attack, kissing down his jaw and back to his lips, murmuring between kisses. “i'm so happy you're my husband.”

katsuki finally relented, his hands settling on your hips as he let out a low chuckle. “you’re fuckin' weird.”

“and you’re grumpy,” you teased. “but i love you anyway.”

“hmph. i love you too,” he admitted, his voice softer now as his arms wrap around you, brushing your nose against his. “sorry for being an idiot today.”

“you’re not an idiot. just... talk to me about it next time, okay?”

"fine. be my fuckin' wife for forever, 'kay?"

"i promise," you cut him off with a kiss.

and katsuki kissed you back, finally letting the tension melt away, drowning himself in the taste of your and your presence. you're here. you weren't gonna leave him because he was bored. you never would.

"tch. i’m still blaming you for my bad dreams though."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ “𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌” 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

The gentle lapping of water against your kayak was the only sound between you and Xavier as you drifted across the mirrored surface of the lake. Dawn’s gentle light cast everything in soft gold, and Xavier’s eyes were fixed on the horizon. You couldn’t help but smile at his profile—so focused even during what was supposed to be a relaxing morning.

His hands worked the paddle, muscles shifting subtly beneath his shirt. Something about seeing him like this—at peace, away from his usual responsibilities—made your chest tighten with affection. The way the rising sun caught in his hair, how his shoulders had finally loosened after miles of paddling. These quiet moments with him felt precious, rare glimpses of Xavier completely in his element.

“It’s beautiful out here,” you said softly, trailing your fingers through the cool water. “I’ve never seen the lake this still... like we’re the only two people left in the world.”

Your words hung in the air between you. Xavier’s paddle paused mid-stroke, his gaze shifting from the horizon to the ripples your fingers made in the water.

“Far out here, no one can hear you scream,” you murmured, almost to yourself, a mischievous smile playing at your lips.

Xavier’s paddle halted completely. He turned to you, eyebrows rising just slightly. His eyes searched yours, not alarmed but curious.

“Are you... planning something?” he asked, head tilted just slightly. “Should I be concerned about being alone with you right now?”

You laughed, the sound echoing across the water, breaking the still morning air. “I said, it feels like a dream. Being out here with you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, the subtle equivalent of a broad smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” he murmured. He leaned forward slightly, close enough that you could feel his breath on your cheek. “I thought perhaps you were considering pushing me into the water.”

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The forest trail narrowed as you and Zayne climbed higher. He moved carefully with each step steady, occasionally extending a hand back to help you over fallen logs without breaking stride. When you reached the cliff’s edge with its breathtaking view, Zayne stopped to take a drink from his water bottle, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

His profile was sharp against the backdrop of mountains and sky, stern even in repose. The wind tousled his hair, and something about seeing him outside the sterile hospital environment made your heart flutter. Here, miles from civilization, away from the pressures of surgery and patients, tiny fragments of a different Zayne emerged—the way his eyes lingered on wildflowers, how his posture softened when he pointed out a hawk circling overhead.

You took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air, letting it fill your lungs. “I can see why you suggested this trail,” you said, moving to stand beside him at the precipice. “It must be nice to escape up here, away from the hospital chaos. No emergency pages, no interns trailing after you.”

His eyes remained on the view, but you caught the slight upward tilt of his lips. His shoulder brushed against yours, the touch seemingly accidental yet lingering.

“And no one can hear you scream,” you whispered, gaze fixed innocently on the valley below.

Zayne nearly choked on his water. He turned to you, brows furrowed deeply, eyes narrowed with genuine confusion. That came out of nowhere, he thought.

“What did you say?” He was recalibrating everything he thought he knew about you.

“I said,” you repeated, stepping closer until you could feel the warmth radiating from him, “it feels like a dream. Being up here, away from everything. Don’t you think?”

He studied your face. “That’s... not what you said.”

You laughed softly, reaching for his hand. His fingers automatically intertwined with yours. “I was just playing,” you admitted. “Your face, though...”

“Not funny,” he murmured, but his thumb traced gentle circles on your palm, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

Sunset painted the beach in vivid oranges and purples as you and Rafayel collected shells along the shoreline. He’d abandoned his shoes long ago, childlike joy evident as he darted between the waves.

You watched him from a few paces behind, heart swelling at his unfiltered delight. This was the Rafayel few people ever saw—completely absorbed in the moment, unburdened by his complicated feelings toward humanity, his artist’s eyes wide with wonder at the simplest natural treasures.

“Look at this one!” he interrupted himself, holding up a spiral shell with an iridescent interior. “The pigment I could make from this—”

You sighed in content at the wind. “This is perfect… no one can hear you scream,” you murmured absently, gazing out at the empty beach stretching endlessly before you.

Rafayel froze mid-sentence, the shell still held aloft. His expression morphed from delight to disturbed confusion, eyes widening. His body went completely still.

“What?” His voice pitched higher, almost cracking. “Why would you—” He glanced around the deserted beach, suddenly seeming acutely aware of your isolation. “Why are you being creepy?”

You couldn’t maintain your straight face any longer, the worry in his eyes too endearing. “I said, it feels like a dream. Do you want to buy ice cream?” Your smile broke through, betraying your mischief.

Rafayel’s posture relaxed, but his eyes remained narrowed. “You didn’t say that.” He clutched his collected shells closer to his chest. “I was going to share my shell collection with you, but now I’m reconsidering.”

“I’m sorry,” you laughed, reaching for his arm, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. “Your reaction was just too perfect. I couldn’t resist.”

“Hmph,” he pouted, but he didn’t pull away when your fingers trailed down to his wrist. Instead, his free hand came to rest over yours, keeping you connected. “Ice cream first, then forgiveness.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

The top of the tower of Onychinus’s base offered a panoramic view of the city below, lights twinkling from buildings over the N109 Zone. Sylus stood beside you, one hand resting on the small of your back.

You couldn’t help but be aware of his proximity—the subtle pressure of his fingers against your back, the faint scent of expensive cologne, the quiet power he exuded even in these private moments. Unlike with others, Sylus never attempted to hide his focus on you.

“The city looks so peaceful from up here,” you said. “You can’t see all the chaos from here. Just light and shadow.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured.

The height of the tower, the isolation, the intimacy of being alone with him in his private sanctuary—it all combined to make you feel strangely bold.

“Bet no one can hear you scream up here,” you said, the words barely above a whisper.

Sylus didn’t flinch. Instead, a slow, intrigued smile spread across his face, his eyes lighting with amused curiosity.

“Is that so?” His voice was velvet-smooth, one eyebrow arched. “And what exactly are you planning, sweetie? Should I be concerned... or excited?”

The way his gaze darkened sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“I said, it feels like a dream,” you replied, trying to maintain innocence despite your smile betraying you.

His laugh was rich and genuine as he pulled you closer by the waist, his hands firm but gentle. “No, you didn’t.” His fingers traced your jawline, his eyes never leaving yours. “I must admit, I’m rather looking forward to whatever scheme you’re hatching. Care to share the details?”

“It was just a joke,” you said, leaning into his touch, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you.

“Pity,” he whispered against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “I was hoping for a demonstration.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The hiking trail had grown quiet as evening approached, just you and Caleb nestled on a fallen log, shoulders touching as you shared a thermos of hot chocolate. The forest around you buzzed with gentle life, and Caleb’s laughter at your story echoed among the trees.

The fading light filtered through the trees, catching on his features—the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, the relaxed set of his shoulders so different from his rigid posture at the fleet headquarters. Out here, he was just Caleb, not Colonel. Just the boy you’d always known, grown into a man who still looked at you like you hung the stars.

The intimacy of the moment, the isolation of the forest trail, wrapped around you both like a blanket. Even the birds seemed to have quieted.

“Wow, it’s very peaceful here,” you commented, looking around. “No one can hear you scream from here,” you murmured, gaze drifting to the darkening trees surrounding you.

Caleb’s laughter died immediately. His body tensed beside yours, head whipping around to look at you.

“Huh?” His eyes narrowed, searching your face with sudden intensity. “What was that?”

You maintained eye contact, fighting the smile threatening to break through. “I said, it feels like a dream. Being here with you.”

He leaned closer, his nose nearly touching yours, breath mingling with yours in the cool evening air.

“That’s not what you said.” His voice was playful but challenging. “Are you pulling something? Is this a prank?”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer. Caleb shook his head, a grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” He pinched both of your cheeks playfully while he laughed at your expression. “Go ahead, do your worst. I dare you.”

Based on this request.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Pathetic | LN4

ᯓ★ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N catches Lando jerking off and moaning her name when he thinks he’s alone, and all the anger and tension between them finally cracks. Teasing him ruthlessly, she offers him a choice — a blowjob or a boobjob — knowing exactly how badly he’s wanted her all along.

ᯓ★ pairing ━━━━━━�� Lando Norris x she!reader

ᯓ★ word count ━━━━━━━ 4.4k

ᯓ★ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, enemies to lovers, edging?, boobjob, masturbation (m), a bit of submissive Lando?

Based on this request.

The villa in Ibiza was quiet, save for the sound of waves crashing against the shore outside. Most of the group had gone out for the day, leaving Lando and Y/N behind—though neither knew the other was still there. 

Lando, laid out on his bed, thought he was alone. The door to his bedroom was slightly ajar, letting in a sliver of light from the hallway. His hand moved lazily up and down his cock, his breath hitching as he closed his eyes and let out a low moan.

"Y/N," Lando moaned, his voice low and desperate, his hand moving furiously over his cock. His breathing was ragged, his hips bucking slightly off the bed as he imagined her beneath him, around him, everywhere. His eyes were closed, his lips parted as he whispered her name again, louder this time, more urgent. "Y/N, fuck, Y/N—"

Meanwhile, Y/N was in her room, which was just next to Lando’s. She had opted to stay back, claiming she wanted to catch up on some work emails. In reality she needed the solitude, a break from the constant tension that followed her and Lando wherever they went.

But the faint sound of moans caught her attention. What the hell? she thought, sitting up in bed. She heard it again—a low, muffled groan that sounded almost… familiar. Her curiosity got the better of her. She crept out of her room, her bare feet silent against the cool tile floor.

The door to Lando’s room was slightly open. She pressed her palm against it, pushing it just enough to peer inside. And there he was—Lando, lying on his back, his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes shut tight as he murmured her name.

Y/N.

For a moment, she froze. Her cheeks flushed, and a mix of shock and something else—heat?—surged through her. She should’ve turned around. She should’ve walked away. But instead, she pushed the door open fully, stepping inside.

The sound of the door creaking open made his eyes snap open, his hand freezing mid-stroke. He barely had time to grab the pillow beside him and shove it over his lap before she was standing there, her arms crossed, her lips curved into a smirk that was equal parts mocking and dangerous.

"Well, well, well," she drawled, leaning against the doorframe. Her voice was smooth, but there was a sharp edge to it that made Lando’s stomach twist. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were fantasizing about me, Lando."

His face burned, his mind racing for an excuse, any excuse, but all he could manage was a strangled, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

She raised an eyebrow, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind her with a soft click. The sound seemed to echo in the silence that followed. "Funny," she said, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Thought I was alone in the villa. Imagine my surprise when I heard someone moaning my name like they were in some porno."

Lando’s jaw tightened, his grip on the pillow tightening as she came closer. "I wasn’t—" he started, but she cut him off with a laugh.

"Don’t even bother lying," she said, her eyes narrowing as she reached the foot of the bed. "I heard you, Lando. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N." She mimicked his moans, her voice dripping with mockery. "God, you sound pathetic."

His chest tightened, a mix of embarrassment and anger bubbling up inside him. "Shut up," he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"I think I do," she shot back, her smirk widening as she leaned over the bed, her hands resting on the edge of the mattress. "I think I know exactly what’s going on here. You’ve been obsessed with me for months, haven’t you? All that hate, all those snide comments, it was just a cover, wasn’t it? Because god forbid Lando Norris actually admits he likes someone."

He glared at her, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. "You’re delusional."

"Am I?" she asked, straightening up and crossing her arms over her chest again. "Because the evidence is pretty damning. You were jerking off, you had the door ajar, and you were yelling my name like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘I can’t stand her,’ does it?"

He opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. She had him cornered, and they both knew it. Her smirk grew sharper, more triumphant, as she stepped around the side of the bed, her hips swaying with every step. She stopped right in front of him, her gaze dropping to the pillow still clutched to his lap.

"Embarrassed, are we?" she teased, her voice low and taunting. "Don’t worry, Lando. I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen you staring plenty of times. You’re not exactly subtle."

His face burned hotter, his grip on the pillow tightening. "Get out."

She ignored him, her smirk softening into something dangerously playful. "Tell you what," she said, kneeling on the edge of the bed, her knees pressing into the mattress as she leaned closer to him. "I’ll make you a deal. You’ve been fantasizing about me, right? So let’s make it real. I’ll give you a choice—blowjob or boobjob. What’s it gonna be?"

Lando’s heart skipped a beat, his chest tightening as her words sank in. "What?" he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You heard me," she said, her voice a low purr. "Choose. And don’t bother lying—I know you’ve been staring at these too." She gestured to her chest, her smirk widening as his eyes flicked down involuntarily before he quickly looked away.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "You’re fucking with me."

"Maybe," she said with a shrug, her fingers trailing lightly along the edge of the pillow. "But do you really want to take that chance?"

His breathing hitched, his mind racing. She was teasing him, taunting him, and he hated how much it was working. He hated how much he wanted her, how much he’d been wanting her for months. "Boobjob," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Her smirk turned into a full-blown grin, and she leaned back slightly, her hands moving to the hem of her top. "Knew it," she said, her voice tinged with amusement as she pulled the fabric over her head and tossed it aside. Her bra followed a moment later, and Lando’s breath caught in his throat as her breasts were fully exposed.

She was gorgeous, her skin smooth and glowing in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Her nipples were already hard, and he couldn’t help but stare, his mouth going dry as she shifted closer to him.

"Like what you see?" she asked, her voice low and teasing. Her hands moved to the pillow still clutched to his lap, and she tugged it free, tossing it aside without a second thought. His cock sprang free, fully hard and aching, and she let out a soft laugh. "Guess you weren’t completely lying."

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she pulled back slightly, her hands moving to his shoulders. "Sit up," she commanded, her voice low and firm. Lando hesitated for a moment, his chest still heaving, but he obeyed, shifting his body to the edge of the bed until his feet touched the floor. She stepped back, her gaze never leaving his as she knelt down in front of him, her knees pressing into the soft carpet.

"Legs open," she instructed, her tone playful but commanding. Lando’s breath hitched, but he didn’t argue, his thighs parting slightly to give her space. She moved closer, her hands resting on his knees as she leaned in, her face just inches from his cock. He could feel her breath against him, warm and maddening, and it took every ounce of willpower not to thrust into the empty air.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice dripping with amusement as her fingers trailed lightly along his thighs. "So eager, so desperate. And all for me." She glanced up at him, her lips curving into a smirk that made his stomach twist. "You really are pathetic, Lando."

Lando’s cheeks burned, but he couldn’t look away, his eyes locked on her as she leaned in closer, her breasts brushing against his thighs. 

"Now," she said, her voice a low, sultry purr as her hands moved to his cock, stroking it slowly, teasingly. "Let’s see if I can live up to your fantasies."

He let out a shaky breath, his hips bucking slightly into her touch, and she laughed softly, her fingers tightening around him. "Eager, are we?" she teased, her other hand moving to cup one of her breasts as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. "Don’t worry, Lando. I’ll make sure you never forget this."

With a wicked gleam in her eyes, Y/N pressed her breasts together, her hands cupping the soft flesh firmly. Her fingers teased her nipples as she leaned forward, her gaze locked on Lando’s flushed face. “Let’s make this good for you,” she purred, her voice dripping with mischief. She positioned his cock between her tits, the tip brushing against the warm, smooth skin. Lando let out a low groan, his hands gripping the edge of the bed as she squeezed her breasts tighter around him.

“Feel that?” she whispered, her voice a sultry tease as she began to move her tits up and down his length. Her hands guided the motion, pressing her soft flesh together with just the right amount of pressure to drive him wild. Lando’s breathing hitched, his hips twitching as he tried to thrust into her, but she held him firmly in place with her hands, controlling the pace completely.

“Easy, Lando,” she chided, her lips curving into a smirk. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m in charge here.” She increased the speed slightly, her breasts sliding wetly along his cock, the sensation maddeningly good. His head fell back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin.

“You like that, don’t you?” she teased, her voice a low, taunting purr. Her hands moved faster, her tits pressing tightly against him in a rhythmic motion that had him trembling. “God, you’re so into this. You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? Me, touching you like this, making you feel so good.”

Lando couldn’t answer, his mind clouded with pleasure as she continued to move, her tits sliding effortlessly along his cock. She watched him with a satisfied smirk, her hands guiding her breasts in a way that drew out every ounce of tension in his body. “Come on, Lando,” she whispered, her voice soft and commanding. “Let me hear you. Say my name.”

He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he fought to hold on, the pressure building with every stroke of her breasts. “Y/N,” he gasped, his voice breaking. “Fuck, Y/N—“

“That’s it,” she purred, her fingers tightening around her breasts as she increased the pace, her tits moving faster, harder. 

With a wicked grin, Y/N leaned back slightly, her hands still guiding her breasts along Lando’s cock. She spat directly onto her chest, the saliva landing between her breasts and coating her skin with a slick sheen.

 “You’re gonna come so fast, it’s embarrassing,” she teased, her voice dripping with mockery as she resumed moving, even faster now—her tits slick and bouncing with every motion. 

She kept her eyes locked on his, reveling in the way his breath hitched and his thighs trembled beneath her. 

“Look at you. Barely a minute in and you’re already twitching. Is this really all it takes? My tits around your cock?” Lando groaned, his humiliation and addiction tangled into one shaky exhale.

“You think I don’t know you’ve wanted this since day one?” she continued, her voice low and mean as she squeezed her tits tighter around him. Her hands pressed her flesh together with deliberate force, making his cock throb against her.

 “All those insults, all that bickering—just cover for this, wasn’t it?” She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear as she added, “You wanted to come all over my tits the second you met me.” His whimper was all the confirmation she needed, and she smirked, her hands moving faster now, her nipples dragging against his length with every stroke.

“Let me show you what you’ve been fantasizing wrong,” she whispered, leaning over his cock again and letting her spit drizzle down onto him. 

She slid her breasts around him once more, the wetness making the motion smoother, more maddening. 

“Bet you imagined it, didn’t you?” she taunted, her voice a low purr as she rocked faster, her tits around him in a way that made his head spin. 

“But your version wasn’t nearly this good.” Her nipples brushed against him deliberately, and he groaned, his hips bucking slightly into her touch.

When his hands instinctively reached for her—whether to touch her head or chest, she wasn’t sure—she slapped them away with a sharp, “No touching. You don’t get that privilege.” Her tone was firm, her eyes blazing as she leaned back slightly, her hands still working him. 

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” she snapped, her smirk turning cruel. “You want this? You watch. You moan. You come. That’s it.” She picked up the pace with ruthless precision, loving the way he shuddered beneath her, completely at her mercy.

Y/N slowed her movements just as Lando’s breathing grew ragged, his cock twitching between her tits. She tilted her head, her smirk widening as she watched the desperation flicker across his face. “Think you get to come just because I let you between my tits?” she purred, her voice dripping with mockery. “Not a chance.” She eased up further, her breasts gliding along his length with agonizing slowness, her fingers pressing her flesh together just enough to keep him on the edge.

Lando groaned, his hips bucking slightly into her. “Y/N, please—”

“Please what?” she interrupted, her tone sharp and taunting. “You want to come? Too bad. You’re not allowed to come until I say so.” Her hands tightened around her breasts, her pace quickening slightly before slowing down again—just enough to make him whimper.

His eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold on. “Fuck, Y/N—you’re killing me.”

“Good,” she shot back, her voice low and mean. She sped up again, her tits sliding wetly along his length, the sensation maddening. “You deserve it, Lando. All those times you pretended to hate me—acting like you couldn’t stand being near me. And now look at you.” She laughed softly, her nipples brushing against him again. “Pathetic.”

He let out a strangled groan, his hands gripping the mattress so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I can’t—”

“You can,” she interrupted, her voice firm. “And you will. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

She edged him again, her movements mercilessly slow, her eyes locked on his face as he squirmed beneath her. Sweat beaded at his temples, his chest heaving with every ragged breath.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mockery as she leaned in closer. “Are you gonna cry?”

“Fuck off,” he growled, though there was no bite to his words, just exhaustion and need.

She laughed, her hands moving faster now, her tits pressing tightly around him. “You look like you’re about to cry. Is it that good? Hm? My tits feel that fucking amazing?” She smirked, her fingers tightening around her breasts as she increased the pace, her nipples dragging against his cock with every stroke.

Lando’s head fell back, a guttural moan escaping his lips. “Y/N—!”

“That’s it,” she whispered, her voice soft and taunting. “Say my name. Let me hear how much you need this.”

He groaned, his thighs trembling beneath her. “You want me pathetic? You’ve got it. Just—don’t stop.”

She laughed softly, her hands guiding her breasts in a rhythm that had him hovering on the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” she purred, her lips brushing against his ear. “Not until I’m ready for you to come.”

She leaned in closer, her tits pressing tightly around his cock as she moved with deliberate slowness. Lando’s mouth fell open, his usual smugness obliterated. His eyes were glazed, his breathing ragged. “So this is what shuts you up,” she purred, her voice dripping with amusement. “All that attitude, gone. Just like that.” She smirked, bouncing her tits harder around him, the pressure making his hips buck. “Next time you talk back, I’ll gag you with them.”

Lando groaned, his voice rough with desperation. “Say whatever the fuck you want—I’ll take it. Just keep going.” His hands twitched at his sides, but she shot him a sharp look, and he stayed still, obeying her unspoken command. His eyes fluttered shut as she continued, her movements relentless. “You’re so soft. So fucking perfect.”

She slowed again, just for a moment, her tits gliding slickly along his length, and leaned in until the tip of his cock was almost brushing her lips with every thrust. “You’re close, aren’t you?” she whispered, her tone dangerously low. “Better aim for my tits, pretty boy. Don’t you dare come on my face.” That line alone made him choke on a moan, his cock twitching madly between her breasts.

“Aim for your tits? Fuck—say it again. Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. She smirked, her hands tightening around her breasts as she increased the pace again. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop,” he gasped, his thighs trembling beneath her.

Just as Lando was right at the edge, breath hitching and thighs trembling, she pulled back slightly, letting the swollen, flushed tip of his cock pulse between her slick, glistening breasts. 

“Give it to me,” she commanded, her voice firm and unwavering, her eyes locked on his with a burning intensity. “All over me. I want it on my chest. Now.”

Lando let out a strangled groan, his release hitting her with a force that made her smirk widen. His cum splattered across her skin, warm and messy, and she didn’t flinch, her hands pressing her breasts together tighter to catch every last drop. 

“Messy little thing,” she purred, her voice dripping with amusement as she smeared it over her skin, her fingers tracing lazy patterns in the mess she’d made of him. “Good thing I like cleaning up after you.”

He stared at her, dazed and breathless, his chest heaving as he tried to find the words. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and reverent, his gaze locked on the way she wore his release like it was hers by right. “Wearing it like it’s yours.”

She laughed softly, the sound low and teasing, her fingers trailing over her chest with deliberate slowness. “You don’t know what you’ve done to me,” he added, his tone a mix of awe and exhaustion, his body still trembling from the intensity of his release.

She leaned back slightly, her breasts still pressed against his softening cock, and smirked as she felt him twitch weakly beneath her. “Oh, look at that,” she teased, her voice low and mocking. 

“Still so sensitive. Maybe I should do it again.” She pressed her tits tighter around him, watching with satisfaction as he let out a broken whimper, his body too spent to do anything but respond. 

“You’d let me ruin you twice, wouldn’t you?” she purred, her fingers trailing lightly over her own skin, still glistening with his release.

Lando’s breathing hitched, his chest heaving as he stared at her, his face flushed and his brain foggy from the intensity of his orgasm. She lingered just above his cock, her smirk widening as she studied his dazed expression. 

“Still think you hate me?” she whispered, her voice dripping with mockery. “You just came all over my tits moaning my name, Lando. Still want to pretend you can’t stand me?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on hers, and she laughed softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips—mockingly sweet, her touch just enough to make him shudder. 

“Pathetic,” she murmured, her voice dripping with amusement as she started to pull back. But before she could, Lando’s hands shot up, his fingers gripping her face with a sudden intensity that made her breath catch. He cradled her cheeks in his palms, his touch surprisingly tender despite the roughness of his grip, and pulled her back in, crashing his lips against hers in a kiss that was anything but sweet.

It was hard, demanding, desperate, and full of all the pent-up frustration and obsession he’d been hiding for months. His mouth moved against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her knees weaken. She let out a muffled sound of surprise, her hands instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders for balance as he kissed her like he was trying to imprint himself onto her very soul.

For a moment, she was too stunned to react, her body frozen in shock. But then she melted into it, her lips parting wider as she kissed him back with equal ferocity. Her fingers twisted into his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between them ignited into something raw and all-consuming.

When he finally pulled back, they were both gasping for air, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. His eyes were almost wild, and his chest heaved as he stared at her like she was the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

“Pathetic, huh?” he rasped, his voice rough and low, his lips still hovering just inches from hers. His hands stayed on her face, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

She smirked, though her own breath was still uneven, her heart pounding in her chest. “Maybe not completely,” she admitted, her voice a little unsteady. Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin just enough to make him hiss. “But don’t think this changes anything, Lando.”

He chuckled, a low, breathless sound, and leaned in to kiss her again—softer this time, but no less intense. “Oh, it changes everything,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with something she couldn’t quite decipher. “And you know it.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smug smirk on her face betrayed her, and she let him pull her into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, and far more dangerous.

She smirked against his lips, burying her hands in his hair again, but as his desperation grew, she pulled back sharply, breaking the kiss with a force that left his lips chasing hers. "Ah, ah, ah," she teased, her voice low and mocking as she pressed a finger to his lips, stopping him from leaning in again.

 "Did I say you could keep kissing me?" Her tone was playful but firm, her eyes glinting with mischief as she tilted her head, studying his flushed face.

Lando groaned, his chest heaving, but she didn’t let him speak, her finger still resting on his lips. "You’re getting greedy, Lando," she purred, her voice dripping with mockery. "First my tits, now my lips? What’s next?" She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin. "Don’t push your luck."

His hands, but he stayed still, his gaze locked on hers as she pulled back completely, leaving him breathless and wanting. "Patience," she whispered, her voice a low, sultry promise as she straightened up, her smirk never faltering. "I’ll decide when you get more."

He glared at her, but there was no real anger in his expression—just frustration, pure and unrelenting. "You’re killing me," he rasped, his voice rough with need.

She laughed softly, her fingers trailing lightly over his cheek before she leaned in and pressed a quick, teasing kiss to his lips. "Good," she murmured, her lips curving into a smirk as she pulled back again. "That’s the idea."

Before leaving, she leaned over him, her breasts still sticky with his cum, her smirk as sharp as ever. “Next time,” she purred, her voice low and dangerous, “if you touch me without permission, I’ll edge you for hours.” 

Her words were a threat wrapped in silk, and Lando shuddered, his cock twitching weakly at the mere thought. She grinned, savoring the way his breath hitched, and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder—gentle, almost sweet, in stark contrast to the havoc she’d just wreaked on him.

Then she shifted lower, her eyes locked on his face as she trailed her lips across the base of his cock, her touch feather-light but deliberate. He let out a strangled groan, his body still trembling from overstimulation as she kissed him there—once, twice—soft and lingering. Her lips lingered on the flushed head, an open-mouthed kiss that was slow, claiming, and so utterly possessive that it made his chest tighten. 

“There,” she murmured, her voice a low, satisfied purr. “Now you’ll never forget who ruined you first.”

His cock twitched again, a weak but undeniable response to her words, and she laughed softly, her tone equal parts wicked and sweet. 

“Poor thing,” she cooed, her lips curving into a smirk that was pure evil. “Still trying to recover?” She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive tip, and he hissed, his body arching involuntarily. But she didn’t linger, her touch as fleeting as her mercy.

With a final, teasing glance, she rose to her feet, her hips swaying as she walked away, like she hadn’t just tattooed herself into his memory forever. Lando stared after her, his chest heaving, his mind still reeling from the intensity of what she’d done to him. She paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder with that same infuriating smirk.

 “Sleep well tonight, Lando,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “I’m sure you’ll be dreaming of me.”

And then she was gone, leaving him lying there, his body spent but his mind racing. He groaned, running a hand over his face as he tried to process what had just happened. She’d ruined him, completely and utterly, and the worst part was—he loved it.

[horchatakoo]

PLAYER 97 | JUNGKOOK ONESHOT

Synopsis: In which Jungkook fucks you in the locker room when you showed up to his game wearing his jersey after a heated argument.

Themes: established relationship, make-up sex, smut, nsfw, cock riding, creampie , big dick jungkook, dom jungkook

You’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone, a visible frown pulling at your face as the memory of last night replays in your head on an endless loop.

Ten missed calls. Seven unread messages. All from Jungkook.

You haven’t opened a single one. You didn’t even have the guts to clear the notifications.

Yana, your friend—and the owner of the apartment you’re currently slouched in—glances over from her spot on the couch, noticing the way your expression keeps twitching like you’re about to either cry or throw your phone.

“You good?” her voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts.

“Yeah,” you say too fast, staring at your screen. “It’s just… Jungkook and I fought last night.”

Yana snorts, connecting the dots almost instantly. “Ohhh, is that why you’re here instead of being cuddled up with your boyfriend in your guys’ apartment?”

You groan and toss a pillow at her, face heating. “Stop it, Yana. It’s not funny. He got really mad at me, you know…”

“Well?” she grins. “What happened? You two barely ever fight.”

You hesitate, chewing the inside of your cheek as you reminisce about the events that happened last night.

“…It was about the party.”

“Why are you at that party?! When I told you not to go!” Jungkook’s voice was loud as he slammed the apartment door shut as soon as the two of you stepped inside.

He had dragged you out of Jimin’s frat party without a word, and now he’s pacing, all tense and pissed, barely looking at you.

“Relax, Koo… I was with Jimin,” you say, trying to play it cool as you leaned against the wall, arms crossed, the alcohol buzzing in your veins, making you feel a little light-headed.

“You were with Jimin,” he spits, emphasizing Jimin's name like the name alone is enough to make him lose it.

“You know that guy brings nothing but trouble. And a frat party? Seriously? God knows what could’ve happened to you—getting drunk, drugged, or some creep trying something on you while you’re too out of it to even notice.”

He said, looking straight at you, his tone still laced with anger as he paced around the small living room, as if trying to calm himself down, a hand running through his locks in frustration.

And maybe, yeah, you get where he’s coming from. Deep down, you know it’s not just about Jimin. It’s about him being scared of the possible dangers you could’ve encountered in a place like that—filled with alcohol and frat boys.

But your pride is too high to give a damn, and you refuse to acknowledge that your boyfriend is 100% right.

"You're fucking controlling!" you shouted at him in defense, refusing to lose the argument—even though you were already out of things to say.

Knowing there's nothing left to add, you turn around and storm into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind you, leaving Jungkook standing alone in the middle of the living room with no choice but to sleep out there.

Yana stares at you, half-pitying, half-annoyed. “Girl…”

"You know that was kinda your fault, right?" she continued, trying to not side on anyone, since you're her best friend, but misserably failed.

You shoot her a glare. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on the right side. And you know damn well Jimin’s a walking red flag in skinny jeans.”

You stay quiet.

That’s honestly true. Jimin is a troublemaker—but he’s still your friend.

You know you were wrong for not listening to Jungkook, even though he had every reason to be concerned about that party. Which is why you planned to say sorry first thing in the morning…

But when you woke up, the apartment was empty.

No Jungkook.

Just a plate of breakfast waiting for you on the counter.

“I know, Yana… but I just don’t know how to make things right between us when everything feels so awkward now,” you admit in defeat, hoping your friend might come up with something better than your own half-baked plan.

“All I can say is: go home and say sorry to him,” she says, simply.

And so you did.

When you got back home, he still wasn’t there, making you sigh unconsciously.

Your eyes wandered around the empty apartment, taking in how quiet and lonely it felt without Jungkook here—no laughter, no teasing, no arms wrapping around you from behind while you cooked. Just… silence.

Maybe waiting for him and making dinner would be nice, you thought, as you started skimming through the kitchen cabinets for anything decent to put together.

That’s when your eyes landed on the small schedule stuck to the side of the fridge.

Right… Jungkook has a championship game today.

And just like that, a bright idea lit up in your mind.

The rink was loud, the energy buzzing with cheers and chants, but Jungkook’s mind was somewhere else.

He hadn’t invited you. He didn’t even expect you to show up after everything that happened last night, thinking that you're still mad at him.

But still, as the game started, his eyes couldn’t help but wander across the bleachers—scanning, searching, hoping.

Just one glance.

Just to be sure.

And right as he was about to look away, to focus back on the game, he saw you.

There.

Sitting alone, tucked among a few scattered fans from his team. And for a second, he wasn’t sure if he was just imagining you.

But then he saw what you were wearing.

His jersey.

The same one he gave you during his first game, the one he practically begged you to wear even though you told him oversized jerseys weren’t really your thing.

You wore it anyway. And now, here you are—wearing it again, in the middle of the crowd, like some silent apology stitched in fabric.

His eyes locked with yours.

You smiled at him. A small, slightly awkward smile—but it was enough to assure him that everything's gonna be okay again

And just like that, something in his chest loosened.

For the first time since last night, he let himself breathe freely—the stress and the thoughts of how he could possibly fix things between the two of you were already out of his mind. Now, he could focus on the game.

Jungkook was on fire.

Gliding across the ice with sharp, effortless precision, he moved like he owned the rink—swift passes, clean shots, total control. Every time the puck touched his stick, the crowd held their breath.

The scoreboard kept climbing, the gap between his team and the opponents growing wider with each passing minute. It wasn’t even close.

By the time the final buzzer echoed through the arena, the place erupted.

They won.

Cheers exploded from every corner of the stands—and yours was the loudest.

“Let’s go, Jungkook!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, hands cupped around your mouth, heart pounding like you were the one who just scored the winning goal.

And even in all the noise, you swore he heard you.

By the time the game ended, the energy in the arena was still buzzing—cheers, laughter, the sound of people flooding out into the night.

You had already planned to meet him in the parking lot, just like before. our legs felt weak from all the jumping and screaming his name, and now that the adrenaline was dying down, all you could think about was seeing him up close again—talking, maybe hugging, maybe—

Buzz.

Your phone lit up.

Koo: Don’t wait in the parking lot. Meet me at the locker room love.

You were a bit confused after receiving the message, wondering why he wanted to meet up there of all places. What if his teammates were still around? What if it’d be awkward?

But your thoughts were cut off when another message came in.

Koo: Don't worry no one's around.

It was as if he read your mind.

Your breath hitched, and your cheeks flushed red at the sudden—very perverted thought that crossed your mind.

You immediately scolded yourself internally for even thinking that way

As you neared the locker room, a few of Jungkook’s teammates passed by, giving you casual nods as they exited, laughter still lingering in the air.

Turns out the team was heading out to celebrate at some restaurant—everyone except Jungkook, who apparently decided to skip.

“Hey, Y/N. Jungkook’s waiting for you back there,” one of them said with a knowing grin.

You barely managed to smile before a few others chimed in—whistles, low chuckles.

“Damn, someone’s in trouble,” one joked, earning a round of snickers.

Your face flushed instantly, the heat crawling up your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You nodded quickly, mumbling a quiet, “Okay,” before speed-walking past them, not even daring to glance back.

When you finally stepped inside, the room was quiet—almost too quiet compared to the usual chaos of his teammates.

Jungkook was already there, freshly showered, hair still damp as he stood by his locker, shirt half-on while he fixed his things.

You took a few slow steps toward him, smiling gently. “Hi,” you greeted, voice soft but hopeful.

And before you could even process what was happening, he turned and smashed his lips against yours.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he muttered between kisses.

It was messy, rushed, needy—your mouths moving fast, tongues tangling in a sloppy, breathless kiss that had your knees weak and your heart racing.

You pulled back just slightly to catch your breath, lips swollen and eyes wide.

“Silly,” you whispered, a little breathless, “we just haven’t talked for a night.”

“Yeah, I know… but still,” he murmured against your lips, then trailed down to your neck.

His mouth latched onto that one spot—the spot—and it made your breath hitch, a soft moan slipping out before you could stop it.

He smirked at the sound, knowing exactly what he was doing, fingers already finding the clasp of your bra with practiced ease.

In one motion, he unclipped it and slid his jersey off your frame, leaving your skin burning.

You tried stopping him, hands pressing lightly against his chest. “Jungkook… w-we’re in public… someone could walk in…”

But he just leaned in, lips brushing against your ear, voice low and cocky.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he whispered, “no one’s gonna come.”

Jungkook’s hands gripped your waist firmly as he turned you around to face the lockers, pressing your front against the cool metal.

You barely had time to react before he pushed your skirt up with one hand—and froze for half a second.

“Fuck,” he growled, voice thick with lust. “What a slut you are for me… no panties under this little skirt, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, body trembling under his touch.

A sharp smack landed on your ass, making you gasp—partly from the sting, mostly from the way it sent a jolt straight between your legs.

You whimpered, your palms flattening against the locker, cheek pressed to the surface as you tried to catch your breath.

“Already this wet for me?” Jungkook murmured as he deliberately dragged his fingers in your pussy, rubbing slow circle on your clit.

It made you moan uncontrollably, your voice echoing through the empty locker room, no longer able to hold back any of the sounds spilling from your lips.

Without a word, he slid two fingers deep into your dripping core, the wet sound of each thrust obscene in the quiet space, your body bent over helplessly against the locker.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, eyes locked on the way you clenched around him. “You’re swallowing my fingers—so fucking greedy for me.”

His words only made you wetter—needier—and your hips bucked into his hand without even thinking. The two fingers weren’t enough anymore, not with the way your body craved him.

He slid in a third without warning, and you gasped, the stretch making your knees weak.

“Ahhh… I need—I need your cock, please, Kookie,” you whined, voice shaky and wrecked, eyes fluttering shut.

That confession made him smirk against your neck, lips brushing your skin.

He curled his fingers deep inside you, watching the way you squirmed under his touch, desperate for more.

“Shhh,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your ear. “Gotta prep you first, baby. Can’t just stuff you full yet.”

You whimpered, your hands gripping the locker door like your life depended on it.

“You can ride me later, alright?” he added, voice low and full of heat. “Gonna let you fuck yourself stupid on it after I open you up nice and good.”

With a few more thrusts and a curl of his fingers, you felt your release building fast, your body tensing as you gasped out, “I’m gonna cum—”

But he stopped. Just like that.

You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, frustrated and breathless.

“Not yet,” he said firmly, licking his lips as he looked up at you. “You can only cum on my cock, baby.”

And with that, he moved to lie down on one of the benches, legs spread, cock hard and heavy against his abs. You stood frozen for a second, flustered, heat burning across your cheeks.

But then he looked at you—through you—and reached out.

“Come here, baby. Fuck your greedy cunt onto my cock now.”

Your breath hitched. He looked so good—messy hair, flushed skin, toned chest rising and falling with every breath. And that thick length standing proud, waiting for you.

You walked toward him on shaky legs, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you straddled his hips, knees pressed into the bench as you reached down, guiding him to your entrance.

You both gasped as you sank down on him, inch by inch, your walls fluttering around his thick length.

“God, you missed me that bad, huh?” he chuckled darkly, watching the way your lips parted in a silent moan. “Bet you were thinking about this the second you saw me today.”

Once you were fully sank on his length, he couldn't help but notice how his cock is bulging on your lower belly as reach out to palm the outline of his length, making you moan.

“Look at that,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “you're really shaped to fit my cock huh?”

The pressure made you moan, your thighs tightening around him. You started slow, rolling your hips, adjusting to the stretch—even though fucking was practically a routine for your both, he still felt overwhelming every time.

But soon, slow turned to eager. Desperation took over as you began to bounce on him, each movement slick and loud in the quiet room. Your moans turned lewd, needy, and so loud he had to bite his lip to keep from losing control too soon.

Your chest bounced with every thrust, and he reached up, gripping one of your breasts, fingers tugging and pinching your nipple just to hear that sweet cry fall from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned, thrusting up to meet you halfway. “Ride me, baby. Just like that.”

You kept riding him, your pace starting to falter, thighs trembling from the effort. Your moans turned breathy and weak, hips stuttering.

“I—I’m gonna cum,” you cried out, and before you could even finish the sentence, your body gave in, the release crashing through you in waves.

You slumped forward against him, breath ragged—but he wasn’t done.

Strong hands gripped your hips tight, keeping you in place as he began to thrust up into you from below, deep and fast, chasing his own high.

The overstimulation made your eyes roll back, small sobs slipping from your lips as you clung to him, your body twitching from the aftershocks.

“F-Fuck, baby—” he groaned, voice wrecked. “I’m gonna cum.”

Your mind snapped back. “Koo, you don’t have a condom,” you whispered, eyes wide, the haze of lust momentarily clearing.

He barely slowed, bucking his hips harder. “It’s fine, baby,” he growled. “Let me fill you up. Gonna make you full of me… give you my fucking kids.”

And just like that, your brain short-circuited again. The thought—his thought—broke whatever resistance you had left. You didn’t or couldn't protest.

With a few more deep, rough thrusts, he let out a low groan, his body tensing as he spilled everything inside you, filling you to the brim.

Both of your hips twitched in response as he gave a final thrust, making sure not a single drop of his cum spilled. You collapsed onto his chest, completely spent, your limbs heavy and trembling, breath uneven.

His cock was still buried inside you, keeping his release exactly where he wanted it—deep in you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your face buried into the crook of his neck, skin flushed and warm. Silence filled the locker room, save for your shared breathing, still coming down from the high.

“Koo…” you whispered, barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

He let out a low chuckle, his hand gently stroking your hair, his other arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he held you close, while pressing a soft kiss to your temple before saying; "It's okay princess, you're already forgiven."

[arkaiveofurown]

you left him a kiss mark without him knowing 💋

Pairings: Law x Reader, Sabo x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Ace x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000 - 2,000 words each

tags: fluff

my masterlist here ♡

——

Law

You caught Law alone in his cabin after a long day at sea. The sun was dipping low outside, casting a warm orange glow through the small window, stretching shadows across the sparse, functional room. Maps, medical supplies, and a few personal items cluttered the desk where Law was bent over his work.

“Mind if I crash here for a bit?” you asked, voice teasing as you leaned against the doorframe.

Law looked up slowly, his dark eyes sharp, narrowed in mock suspicion. “You mean, just to bother me?”

You smirked and stepped inside, closing the door behind you. “Maybe.”

His usual calm stayed unshaken, but you caught the faintest lift at the corner of his mouth, like a secret smile.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “But only for a moment.”

The cabin smelled faintly of antiseptic and sea salt, and you moved closer, feeling the coolness of the room contrast with the heat of your fingers as you brushed your hand lightly over his wrist.

Your lips brushed softly over his jawline, then you quickly pressed a kiss mark just below his ear—red and bold against his pale skin.

Law froze for a heartbeat, eyes flicking down to the spot, but then he simply tilted his head so you could see better.

“Well, well.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh softly. “What?”

His expression stayed unreadable, cool as ever. He didn’t say more, eyes flickering between you and the maps scattered before him.

Without breaking focus, he spoke, “You’re unpredictable.”

You grinned. “And you like that.”

Law’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t react to the mark on his neck—not outwardly.

You stepped back, heart pounding just a little, pleased that your secret was still safe.

——

The night air was cool, the stars blinking faintly overhead as the crew slowly filtered onto the deck. The work was done for the day, and a casual, easy quiet settled over the Polar Tang.

You leaned against the railing, glancing toward Law who stood near the helm, staring out over the dark sea. The faint red stain on his neck was hidden beneath his high collar, but not to everyone.

Bepo was the first to notice.

“Heh,” he said low, nudging Shachi with his paw. “You see that on Captain?”

Shachi followed his gaze, then grinned. “The lipstick? Yeah. She’s got guts, putting that there.”

Bepo laughed softly. “Captain’s so serious, he probably thinks it’s just a scratch.”

Shachi shook his head. “I bet you five berries he doesn’t even know.”

Bepo’s eyes sparkled. “That’s hilarious. Can you imagine? The Surgeon of Death, with a bright kiss mark?”

Just then, Penguin ambled over, curious about their whispering.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, tilting his head.

Shachi lowered his voice even more. “You know Captain, right? Well… someone left a little gift on him.”

Penguin blinked, eyes wide. “Really? But Captain’s so focused. He wouldn’t notice.”

Bepo grinned. “Exactly. It’s our little secret.”

Penguin chuckled quietly, and Jean Bart, leaning nearby with a cigarette, flicked ash and smirked.

“That’s bold. But no one messes with Captain like that unless they’re special.”

Bepo grinned wider. “We keep quiet though. No need to ruin the surprise.”

They all exchanged knowing looks, careful to keep their voices low so the Captain wouldn’t hear—except, of course, Law did.

You spotted the slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle tightening of his jaw as he remained still near the helm, pretending to watch the dark sea.

Bepo whispered again, “Better keep it down, Captain’s listening.”

But Law’s voice cut through, calm and even. “If you’re all talking about me, I suggest you be more discreet.”

The crew froze for a heartbeat, then quickly scattered, chuckling quietly as they moved away.

You stepped forward, heart pounding slightly as you approached Law.

“Got caught,” you murmured, brushing your fingers lightly over the collar hiding your kiss.

Law’s eyes met yours, sharp but unreadable. “Did you think you’d get away with it?”

You smiled, trying to keep your cool. “Maybe I hoped. It’s not exactly subtle.”

He reached out, gently tugging the collar down just enough to reveal the faint red mark.

“Bold,” he said, voice low.

Your breath hitched. “You don’t mind?”

Law tilted his head, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I might even say I like it.”

You blinked, caught off-guard by the honesty buried in the calm edge of his voice. “Really?” you asked, tone teasing but quiet, testing him.

He didn’t look away. “I just don’t appreciate being the last to know I’ve been branded like property in front of my own crew.”

Your brows rose, lips twitching into a slow grin. “Property, huh? That’s a strong word for someone who lets me crawl into his bed every time I’m cold.”

Law didn’t flinch, though his fingers twitched slightly where they still held the edge of his collar. “That’s different. That’s quiet. This—” He glanced down toward the faint stain near his neck again, “—this is loud.”

“Mm.” You leaned in slightly, so close your lips nearly brushed his ear. “Then maybe I should go louder next time. Somewhere they can’t miss.”

His breath caught just enough for you to notice.

He turned his face just slightly toward yours, voice low and clipped. “You’re trouble.”

“And you like it.”

Law’s eyes searched yours for a long, still moment. Then he murmured, “Too much.”

There was something almost dangerous in how softly he said it. Not a warning. A confession.

The silence between you tightened, slow and heavy like a pull between magnets. You could hear Shachi and Penguin laughing faintly from below deck, Jean Bart’s footsteps fading toward the galley. But up here, it felt like the rest of the crew had disappeared.

You brushed your knuckles against his coat lapel, playful but deliberate.

“I can stop if it bothers you,” you offered gently—meant it, even if your tone still carried that bite.

He studied you for a second longer, unreadable. Then he reached forward and slipped two fingers under your chin, tilting your face up—not roughly, just enough.

“Do it again,” he said simply.

You blinked. “What?”

He stepped in, barely an inch of space between your bodies now. “Next time you decide to mark me—do it where I can feel it happen.”

Your stomach dropped and soared all at once.

“Oh?” you breathed, eyes gleaming. “Captain giving orders now?”

Law’s smirk was razor-sharp. “Just making sure I’m aware of the battlefield.”

You laughed under your breath, hand sliding to rest lightly on his chest. “And here I thought you’d be the one hiding in the dark, pretending not to care.”

He leaned in—close enough that your noses nearly touched.

“I always notice, y/n. Don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”

Your heart kicked hard behind your ribs.

But instead of kissing you, he stepped back. Just slightly. Just enough to drive you crazy.

Then: “Now get below deck,” he said smoothly, the Captain voice back in place. “Before you tempt me into something more reckless.”

You grinned and turned, making your way toward the hatch.

But just before you disappeared below, you looked over your shoulder and shot him a wink.

“Next time,” you promised, “I’ll use redder lipstick.”

Law exhaled a slow breath as you vanished from view, head tilting back toward the sky.

He didn’t say anything.

But he didn’t pull his collar up again, either.

——

Sabo

The meeting room inside Baltigo’s command hall was quiet, the long table lit by afternoon sun filtering through cracked windows. Maps were spread out across the surface, alongside hastily scrawled notes about incoming cipher intel and revolutionary cells in East Blue. Dragon sat at the head of the table, silent and composed, while Sabo leaned over the documents with his usual sharp focus.

You were seated to his right, scribbling logistics into a worn notebook, trying very hard not to grin.

Because you knew something Sabo didn’t.

You’d kissed him earlier. Just once. Light, teasing. A playful brush of lips as he adjusted that damn cravat of his. You’d leaned in and left a perfectly placed red lipstick mark right under the tied fold, tucked slightly into the side of the pristine white fabric.

He hadn’t noticed. Too busy grumbling about supply routes.

Now here you were, all gathered for a high-level meeting—and Sabo had a bright crimson signature under his collar.

Belo Betty sat across from you, eyeing the spot.

Koala leaned forward, whispering in her ear, trying and failing to suppress her smirk.

Hack was stone-faced… but you noticed the twitch of his fin as he sipped his tea.

Lindbergh was humming faintly, fiddling with his toolkit, eyes darting toward Sabo every few seconds.

You kept your head down, pen moving smoothly, until—

Dragon’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Sabo.”

Sabo glanced up from the map. “Yeah?”

Dragon didn’t even blink. “You have something red on your neck.”

Silence.

Sabo froze. “…What?”

Dragon gestured mildly, eyes back on the war map. “On the left side. Under your scarf. Lipstick, I think.”

Sabo’s hand flew up to his neck like he’d been stabbed.

He touched the edge of the scarf. Paused. Fumbled.

Everyone was watching.

Koala choked on her breath.

Betty outright cackled.

Lindbergh slapped the table.

You buried your face in your notebook, trying to look innocent—and failing miserably.

“I—” Sabo stammered, yanking the scarf free with slightly shaking hands. His eyes found the red smudge instantly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, bright scarlet blooming across his face.

Betty leaned over, voice sweet like poison. “Aw, who left you a souvenir, Chief of Staff?”

Koala was grinning ear to ear. “You said you were reviewing reports this morning.”

“I was!” Sabo snapped, his ears going pink. “I was—”

“Uh-huh,” Lindbergh snorted. “And was that part of the report? A personal… stamp of approval?”

You reached out and tapped your pen on the table, biting your lip. “Well… I did approve him.”

Sabo whipped toward you, scandalized. “You—!”

You blinked, all innocent eyes. “What? I figured you’d notice and wipe it off.”

Dragon cleared his throat. Everyone went quiet.

Then he looked at you with the faintest quirk of a brow. “Efficient marking technique.”

Another wave of laughter echoed through the room.

Sabo groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “I cannot believe this…”

Koala giggled, nudging you with her elbow. “Honestly, we should’ve guessed. You’ve had that lipstick all day.”

You shrugged with a smirk. “He looked too good not to. You know how he gets when he ties that scarf.”

“Do not encourage her,” Sabo muttered behind his palms.

Dragon turned back to the map like nothing happened. “Alright. If we’re done discussing Sabo’s love life—”

“We are not,” Betty cut in gleefully.

“—we can return to the South Blue supply chain.”

Sabo gave you a betrayed look as you leaned toward him, whispering with a grin. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He gave a long-suffering sigh, cheeks still red, and muttered, “You’re dangerous.”

You bumped your knee against his under the table. “That’s why you like me.”

——

The meeting finally adjourned with scattered murmurs and the shuffling of papers. Dragon was already gone, Hack and Lindbergh trailing after him. Koala gave you one last wink before slipping out, and Betty was still laughing to herself as she lit a cigarette in the hallway.

You stayed seated. So did Sabo.

He hadn’t looked at you after that small talk, still pretending to organize his notes even though his ears were visibly red. The scarf lay useless in his lap now, the crimson smear glaring up at him like a crime scene.

You cleared your throat. “You gonna wear that again tomorrow?”

His pen paused mid-line. “Not if you’re going to vandalize it.”

You tilted your head with mock innocence. “Is that what it’s called now?”

He exhaled sharply, finally turning toward you—blue eyes narrowed, cheeks stubbornly flushed. “You think you’re so clever.”

“I don’t think it,” you said, sliding your notebook shut and leaning in, voice low and teasing. “I know it.”

He watched you, still not smiling. But his foot nudged yours lightly under the table. “That was a meeting with Dragon.”

“Yup.”

“And I walked in there like a target with lipstick on my neck.”

“Mmhmm.” You grinned. “You should’ve checked.”

Sabo rolled his eyes, but his voice had softened. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Oh please,” you said, inching closer. “You didn’t even flinch during the briefing on Cipher Pol infiltration. One kiss and suddenly you forget how to speak?”

“You call that one kiss?” he muttered. “That was strategic sabotage.”

You laughed, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “You love it.”

He didn’t deny it. Just stared at you for a moment, then quietly set his papers aside.

“Come with me.”

Your brows rose. “Where?”

“Somewhere without Betty’s commentary,” he said under his breath, already standing and rolling his scarf into his coat pocket. “I need five uninterrupted minutes with you.”

You raised a brow. “To yell at me?”

“To retaliate,” he said simply, and offered you his hand.

You didn’t hesitate.

As you followed him down the empty hallway, your fingers laced with his, the mark might’ve faded—but the heat he carried from it definitely hadn’t.

——

Zoro

“Someone’s gonna come looking for you.”

Zoro didn’t move. Just leaned back against the wooden crate behind him, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, watching you like you were the only thing in the world worth tracking.

“They won’t look here.”

Your back pressed to the other crate across from him, just a few feet apart, breath still quick from the last kiss. Straw Hat’s supply storage — tucked behind the galley — was quiet. Safe. Stolen.

“I told you to stop sneaking off mid-training,” you said, not even trying to sound annoyed anymore.

“I told you to stop wearing that lipstick.”

You licked your teeth. “Why?”

He pushed off the crate and closed the distance.

“You know why.”

You tilted your head as he boxed you in. “You gonna complain?”

He didn’t answer — just kissed you again. Rough, hot, a little clumsy in that way he always was when he lost control first.

His hand curled under your jaw. Your palm slipped beneath his open collar. Lips clashed once, twice, then he paused—

You kissed the side of his throat.

Firm. Slow. On purpose.

He froze. “The hell was that?”

You smirked against his skin. “You’ll find out.”

“You’re being annoying.”

“You like it.”

Zoro grunted. “Tch. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Then came the sound of heavy footsteps up above — someone stomping across the upper deck.

Zoro tensed.

You stepped back, patting his chest. “Go.”

“You’re the one who—”

“Go before someone asks where your shirt went.”

He muttered something rude under his breath, grabbed his gear from the crate, and disappeared out the side passage.

You waited a beat, adjusted your jacket, checked your lipstick.

Still perfect — aside from the very deliberate red smear now painted just below Zoro’s jaw.

You grinned to yourself.

And walked back up to the galley like nothing happened.

——

“Zoro.”

Sanji’s voice snapped across the deck like a whip.

Zoro didn’t look up. “What.”

“Zoro,” Sanji hissed again, marching over, pointing like he’d found a crime scene. “The hell is that on your neck?”

Zoro blinked. “What’re you talking about.”

Sanji stopped a meter away, planted his hands on his hips, and leaned in.

“That, moss-brain,” he said, stabbing a finger toward the side of Zoro’s neck. “That bright red smear. Looks like a damn kiss.”

Zoro frowned, reaching up. “What the hell—”

“You’re not even gonna deny it?!”

“I didn’t say it was—!”

“Oh my god,” Sanji reeled backward, spinning in a circle. “Who?! Who the hell would be desperate enough to kiss you?!”

“Shut up.”

“I swear, if you laid a finger on Robin-chwan—!”

“I didn’t!”

“Nami-swan?!” Sanji staggered. “I’ll kill you!”

“You’ll try.”

Then Sanji froze, eyes going wide.

“…Y/N?!”

Zoro blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been training with her a lot lately—skipping meals, disappearing after dinner—and now this?! Don’t tell me you corrupted her, you goddamn muscle goblin—!”

Zoro stood up slowly. “You say one more word about her and I’ll slice your tongue off.”

Sanji gawked. “So it was her?!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t deny it!!”

Across the deck, Nami shielded her face with her hand, laughing silently. Robin sipped her tea with amusement.

You leaned against the railing nearby, pretending to watch the clouds.

Usopp leaned over toward you, stage-whispering, “So…was it you?”

You blinked innocently. “Why would I kiss Zoro?”

Usopp raised both brows. “You tell me.”

You sipped your drink. “Maybe the same reason someone hasn’t said a damn thing to stop Sanji yet.”

The swordsman still stood there, scowling as Sanji ranted about honor and lipstick and romantic delusions.

Nami leaned casually against the railing, one hand covering her mouth to hide a grin. “Well, well, looks like someone isn’t as sneaky as they think.”

You shot her a playful glare but smiled. “Maybe I like showing off a little.”

Robin sipped her tea, raising an eyebrow with a knowing look.

Sanji, still visibly steamed, muttered, “I can’t believe I’m the last to know.”

Zoro didn’t say much, just gave you a side glance — the slightest hint of a smirk twitching his lips.

“You really gonna keep doing this?” he asked, voice low.

You stepped closer, brushing your fingers lightly over his wrist.

“Only if you promise to keep noticing.”

Zoro’s eyes flickered to the spot on his neck.

“Damn it, you’re impossible.”

Nami laughed softly. “Honestly, it’s cute.”

Sanji groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up.

“Cute? I’m surrounded by fools.”

Zoro ignored him, pulling you just a little closer.

“Let’s keep this between us. No need to make it a crew thing.”

You nodded, resting your forehead briefly against his.

“Just us.”

Sanji muttered, “Good luck keeping that secret…”

Zoro glanced down at the faint lipstick mark on his neck, then quickly looked away like he wasn’t supposed to have noticed. His voice was quieter than usual, almost shy.

“You… left that there.”

You smiled gently, stepping closer.

“Yeah. Didn’t think you’d catch it.”

He cleared his throat, fingers twitching slightly as if unsure what to do next.

“I… I don’t really like showing off.”

You reached out, brushing a stray hair behind his ear.

“I know. That’s why I made it small. For just you.”

Zoro’s jaw clenched, but it wasn’t anger — more like trying to keep his cool.

“Don’t make a habit of it.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his side.

“Only if you want me to.”

His hand found yours quietly, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Just… don’t be too obvious next time.”

You looked up, catching the small, almost-hidden smile tugging at his lips.

“Deal.”

And for once, Zoro didn’t say anything else—just pulled you a little closer, and the quiet said everything.

——

Ace

The armory wasn’t where most crewmates snuck off to flirt, but you liked the smell of steel and the thick walls. It was cool inside.

Ace leaned against a stack of crates, sweat glistening at the base of his throat, shirt half undone and clinging to his back. The heat from his body didn’t help the temperature, but you didn’t complain.

“You’re late,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned back against the door.

Ace grinned, slow and sharp. “You said ‘when you’re done with rounds.’ I did my rounds.”

You pushed off the wall and walked toward him, letting your fingers trail over a rack of throwing knives. “Did you? Or did you let Blenheim take your shift again?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, voice dipping.

You stepped into his space, crowding him back against the crates. “Only if you’re trying to get out of putting your hands to use.”

“Oh, I’ll use my hands,” he said, catching your waist with one and tugging you in.

You didn’t resist. You kissed him first — hard, deep, your fingers digging into his belt loops as you bit at his lower lip just enough to draw a low noise from his chest.

Ace responded like he always did: with heat, with hunger, with that slight lack of patience that always gave you the upper hand.

You broke the kiss and let your lips trail down to his jaw. “Stay still,” you whispered.

“What—”

You pressed a slow kiss to the curve of his neck, right under his ear. Intentional. Deliberate.

When you pulled back, he looked dazed — but not suspicious.

“What was that?” he asked, breathless.

“Nothing.”

Ace blinked, confused. “You look smug.”

“I always look smug when I get what I want.”

His eyes narrowed, but he looked too wrecked to question it. “What the hell did you do?”

“Why don’t you go help Haruta with the cargo like you promised,” you said sweetly, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’re already late.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“I’m letting you walk away before I keep you here another hour.”

Ace licked his lips, clearly debating it. He smirked finally, tapping your hip. “Fine. But you’re not done with me.”

You leaned in and whispered, “I know.”

And just like that, he walked out — shirt open, cheeks flushed, and a very bright lipstick mark stamped on his neck.

He didn’t feel it.

He didn’t look in a mirror.

And you?

You knew the second someone would notice.

Because you heard Izo’s voice echo across the deck less than a minute later:

“Oi… Ace. You forget to wipe off your girlfriend again?”

Ace froze.

You leaned against the armory door, smile creeping back into place.

Checkmate.

The moment hit the deck like a cannonball.

Ace stood dumbfounded, halfway to the rigging, completely unaware. The wind caught the edge of his shirt — still half open, still clinging to his flushed skin — and revealed the bold, unmistakable stamp of your lipstick on the side of his neck.

Bright. Smudged. Deliberate.

From your spot by the armory, you watched it unfold with delicious satisfaction.

“Yo, Ace,” Thatch called from across the deck, barely masking the amusement in his voice. “You get into a fight with a very small, very specific octopus?”

Ace stopped walking. “The hell does that mean?”

“Little red target on your neck, bro,” Thatch said, biting back a grin. “Kinda hard to miss.”

Izo appeared out of nowhere, sipping tea, his eyes sparkling. “That shade of red is very flattering on you. Subtle as a punch to the face.”

Ace reached up instinctively, rubbing the back of his neck. “What? There’s nothing—”

“You’re rubbing the wrong side, hothead,” Marco muttered as he passed by with a bored look and zero intention of helping.

Ace turned in place, trying to look over his shoulder.

“Is this a prank? What is this?”

“Better question,” Vista added with a raised brow. “Who’s bold enough to claim Fire Fist in broad daylight?”

You watched the scene build from the sidelines, arms folded, head tilted slightly. You didn’t say a word. Not even when Ace turned and locked eyes with you.

He knew. Oh, he knew.

“You,” he called out, striding toward you. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t say anything,” you replied, smiling too wide to be innocent.

“That’s exactly what’s suspicious!” His fingers pointed wildly at the crew. “Everyone’s laughing at me, and you’re just standing there looking—smug!”

“Maybe they’re just admiring your fashion choices.”

“Oh my god, you planned this,” he groaned, one hand dragging down his face. “You—You weaponized your mouth.”

You sauntered toward him. “You didn’t seem to mind my mouth ten minutes ago.”

That shut him up. Briefly.

From behind him, Haruta whispered loudly, “He’s been branded.”

“Like cattle,” Thatch added.

Marco raised his cup lazily. “Official property.”

You stood on your toes, brushing your thumb right under his jaw — not wiping it off, just getting close enough to make his breath hitch.

“Next time,” you murmured, “check the mirror before leaving me.”

Ace stared at you, eyes burning like a slow flame. “Oh. You think this is funny?”

You smirked. “I think it’s adorable how long it took you to notice.”

He stepped in, body heat radiating like a furnace. “You know what happens to brats who play games with fire?”

You leaned in, lips brushing his jaw. “They get burned?”

“No,” he growled, fingers curling at your waist. “They get dragged back into the armory and ruined.”

That got a loud wolf-whistle from Thatch.

“Only if you make it past Marco,” you whispered, grinning.

“Try me.”

——

Later that night, the ship was quiet — a lull after laughter and teasing had finally faded into the gentle creak of the Moby Dick’s hull and the ocean beneath.

You were halfway to your quarters when you felt it.

Heat. Behind you.

A hand caught your wrist, pulled you backward into the shadows between two storage rooms. Warm breath skimmed your neck.

“I owe you one.”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t have to.

“I was wondering when you’d come collect.”

Ace pressed you to the wall, chest brushing yours, one arm braced by your head.

“Wanna tell me why I walked around for half the day marked like your territory?”

You tilted your chin. “Because you are.”

He went still.

Just for a second.

Then he grinned — that cocky, dangerous, beautiful grin that always meant trouble.

“You trying to start something, sweetheart?”

“I think I already did.”

He leaned in, slow and close, until his lips nearly brushed your cheek. “You know everyone saw it, right? Half the crew won’t shut up. Marco asked me if I needed help cleaning up.”

You snorted. “You left me desperate and smug in the armory. That was fair play.”

“Oh, no. That was bait.”

He grabbed your jaw gently, made you look up at him. “You wanted me to find out in public.”

You didn’t deny it. You just held his gaze, lips parted slightly. “You looked good in red.”

“I look better when I return the favor,” he murmured.

And before you could shoot back a smart reply, his mouth was on yours.

Hot. Deep. Claiming.

Not rushed — deliberate. Like he was carving the memory of this moment into your skin. Like he wanted you to remember exactly who you belonged to, the same way you’d left your signature on him.

His knee slid between yours, pressing your thigh up against the wall. His hands found your hips, then your waist, then back to your jaw — like he couldn’t decide where he wanted you most.

You barely managed to whisper against his mouth, “Thought you were mad at me.”

“I am,” he growled. “I’m furious.”

“Liar.”

He kissed you again, hard enough to steal breath.

When he finally pulled back, he was panting lightly, his voice hoarse. “You wanna make this a game? Fine. But don’t think you’re the only one who can leave marks.”

You opened your mouth to tease him—try me on your lips—but his fingers trailed under your jaw, brushing your neck like he was already choosing where he’d leave his signature next time.

He didn’t have to.

You were already melting.

“Next time,” he murmured, “I’ll make sure it’s somewhere you can’t hide.”

You smirked. “Big words, fire boy.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

Then his tone softened — quiet in a way that made your chest ache.

“But for what it’s worth…” he whispered, voice barely a breath, “I liked it.”

You blinked.

“The mark,” he clarified, fingers lacing with yours. “Didn’t even care when I saw it. Just thought, hell… someone really loves me, huh?”

That hit you harder than anything else had all day.

Your heart stuttered.

So you leaned up and kissed him again — not to tease this time, not to stir him up. Just to say, yeah. I do.

When you pulled back, you whispered against his skin, “Maybe I’ll leave two next time.”

He groaned. “I knew you weren’t done.”

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

You’re a Yapper | One Piece HC

As a fellow yapper, this felt necessary. Ive been thinking about expanding this to include a few additional characters, but for now, here's what I've got!

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kidd

Tags: GN!Reader, no specific relationship mention, could be prerelationship

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

LUFFY

Luffy didn’t even really notice it at first. Honestly, he’s a bit of a yapper himself.

If you get excited and start yapping about something, he’ll match you almost every step of the way.

It’s the passion in your voice that really gets him.

When he starts to really realize how yappy you are, though, is when it’s topics that don’t interest him.

He’ll still listen. Well, mostly. Kind of. Not really. This is Luffy we’re talking about.

But you’ll just keep droning on and on and on.

Luffy will just stand there, picking his nose, unsure of what’s even happening right now.

One time, he just outright laughed.

”You’re funny. Why do ya talk so much, anyway?”

You’re floored. Face, beat red. Eyes, wide. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, he grins at you.

”It’s fine, let’s just talk about somethin’ else!”

You didn't even have time to be mad. Because, right away, a boisterous laugh left Luffy at the expression on your face.

From that point on, you took any of those comments in stride and made sure to talk about things that excited Luffy, too.

And for Luffy’s part? He’s content to just tease you and watch the way your face scrunches. For totally platonic reasons, of course.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

ZORO

At first, Zoro didn't know what to think about it.

He’s used to people just talking to him. He swears he doesn’t have one of those faces - he’s made himself relatively unapproachable.

When you’re stoic and quiet like he is, though, people just seem to talk to you.

Luffy, Nami, Usopp - the whole ship is full of yappers.

And it's not like he really minds it. Sometimes it's interesting, and when he's in the mood for it, he has a good time engaging or making jokes.

It’s when he notices how you just don’t stop that he realizes this might be a problem.

He doesn’t always hate it. Quite honestly, he’ll easily fall asleep to it, and you don’t seem to mind.

It’s just sometimes when he’s already feeling exhausted from a workout that it can be a bit…grating.

”You just don’t shut up, do you?”

You were babbling about something - some kind of story, Zoro wasn't paying attention. He was trying to take a nap on the deck when you had just started, so the words slipped out of him faster than he meant.

That shut you right up, leaving Zoro feeling way more guilty than he anticipated it would.

He was expecting some sort of snappy comment, some sort of argument, which wouldn’t be completely unexpected of you. But you just went silent. And walked away.

Yeah, he was regretting it almost immediately.

Why would it matter, though? He’d get what he wanted - some peace and quiet, a chance to finally take a real nap on the deck again without any interruptions. No more training sessions interrupted with constant blabbering. Being left alone to his saké while the rest of the crew yapped and he could listen in.

But he found himself missing the way you’d sit next to him and how excited your voice would sound the few times he’d actually listen. He missed the way your eyes lit up when he’d give you a small nod of acknowledgment, and the way you beamed in delight whenever he’d follow it up with a hum or a question.

He eventually, very reluctantly, apologized.

“Yeah, you still talk too much, but it’s fine. Kinda missed hearing it.”

The moment you forgave him for snapping on you, he was more relieved than he thought he’d be to hear you rambling to him again.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

SANJI

Sanji was floored when you first started rambling to him. One - because you chose to rant to him. Two - because you just talk so much.

It wasn’t an issue. Not at all. In fact, it helped break up the day when he’d be busy around the kitchen.

He’d love if you just sat in a chair peeling potatoes while talking to him all day long. About anything and everything, really.

The sound of your voice is like a chime to him, as pretty as you are, and he’s happy to be given the privilege to listen to it.

He’s happy to engage. He’ll ask questions, add comments of his own.

Even if he wasn’t already completely enamored with your presence, he had already decided that having you here talking about whatever inane crap came to your head was better than him being alone.

He smokes a cigarette, taking small breaks to lean against the counter and just listen to you. Honestly, sometimes in amazement. It was impressive how long you could talk.

One time, after a particularly long rant about how stupid one character of a book you were reading was, you offered him an apology for going on a rant.

“Sorry for talking so much, just had to get that out.” You said, and Sanji immediately shook his head and laughed.

”Are you kidding? I could listen to you talk all day, gorgeous.”

It was such an easy answer for Sanji, and after that, it stuck with you every time you decided to waltz into his kitchen for another yap session.

He'd always have your favorite drink and snack at the ready!

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

LAW

When you first joined the crew, Law wasn’t worried about everyone getting along with you.

You seemed friendly enough. Chatty, maybe, but that just meant you’d fit right in with everyone else on the sub. Their personalities were far more vibrant than Law considered his own to be, and that’s how he preferred it.

It’s in the few first times that he was cornered by you that he fully realized just how relentlessly chatty you were. And you had selected him to be your regular target.

You were rambling. Ranting. Droning on and on about something that he was listening to and absorbing, but wasn’t necessarily interested in.

He replied politely, though, for the most part. Nodding, humming, giving small comments occasionally. He didn’t have a reason not to, and he was in a good enough mood.

For a while, he was okay with being mostly quiet just to let you get it out of your system.

It was only the fourth or fifth time that you were yapping to him over dinner that he finally interrupted.

“You always talk this much?”

He really didn’t mean it as an insult. Granted, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about having you talk his ear off while he’s eating, but he wasn’t necessarily bothered by it. It was just…regular annoying.

Yes, he’s ranked how annoying something is on a scale before. It helps him when dealing with people.

When he realized he messed up, he didn’t really know how to recover it from there.

You’d still talk, of course, but you stopped cornering him. You droned on to Bepo or Ikkaku instead. For some reason, that didn't sit right with the surgeon.

So, the next time you were alone together, he just kind of started talking to you. About something random he remembered you talking about. He still didn’t fully get it.

That started you up again, and if you weren’t so busy gesticulating with your hands and explaining whatever the hell you were explaining, you might have been able to see him smirk.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

KIDD

The Victoria Punk was no stranger to loud, booming voices. It goes without saying that some of the most boastful remarks came from the Captain himself.

When you joined the crew, it seemed nearly seamless. Some growing pains here and there, but overall, you'd proven to be a strong and capable crewmate.

The only thing, Kidd learned, is that you never shut the fuck up.

Whether it was excitedly recalling a battle you'd been a part of, showing off your weapons or abilities, or even just talking about the damn news.

You always had input, and it had slowly begun to grate on the Captain's nerves.

It was during one particular day at port where you were rambling about - oh, who knows? It was incessant. And Kidd was wanting to address the crew.

“Would you shut the hell up?”

He noticed the way you bristled, your face scrunched, but you said…nothing.

Thank god, you finally seemed to stop.

But you didn't start back up. At all.

This went on for a few days, and somehow the silence was as annoying for Kidd as the talking. Maybe even more.

Where the hell did that sweet voice go? The nonstop chatter about the new island or the mission? The bragging about how you'd taken down a Marine, something he noticed and nearly pointed out himself?

He cornered you on the deck the morning before you set sail, finally having had enough. Again.

“The silent treatment, you damn brat? You'd better start being a chatterbox again before I kick your ass.”

Yeah, you rub it in his face from that day on.

[wysteria-bloom]

I have a funny little request, How do you think the baldur's gate 3 companions would react or respond to Tav talking to someone and who ever they are talking to asks them something about a husband/Wife and they point to one of the companions say “Yeah that’s my Husband/Wife right here”, Or Tav greeting the bg3 companions and saying “Hello my beautiful Wife or Handsome Husband how are you today?” Idk I think it would be funny you can either do all the companions or just a few and whoever else you want.

P.S One of the companions has to Karlach pls and thank you. Have a good day/night

↪"Say that again?"

Bg3 companions x reader

Warnings : none that I can think of, if there anything triggering please let me know

A/n : this is such a cute idea !!! Thank you so much for the request and ofc I'll include Karlach it's a literal crime if I don't

Characters : Astarion, Karlach, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel, Wyll, Halsin, Minthara, Rolan, Raphael

▢ astarion

Astarion is mid-sip of his wine when he hears it. You’re chatting with a bartender, mentioning offhandedly, "Oh, my husband enjoys that brand of wine!" The words seem to hang in the air. A moment later, he chokes, coughing as he hurriedly sets his glass down.

"Sorry, darling, did I just hallucinate, or did you actually call me your husband?" He grins, sharp and playful, but there’s something else lurking in his ruby eyes—something softer. "How bold of you. I don’t recall signing any vows, though if they involve more pet names and adoration, I might be convinced."

Despite his teasing, there’s an undeniable smirk of satisfaction on his lips, and later that night, when he thinks you’re asleep, you catch him whispering his name with your last name attatched—testing the sound of it with a chuckle.

▢ shadowheart

Shadowheart stiffens, her hand momentarily pausing over the clasp of her pack as you effortlessly refer to her as your wife in conversation. She recovers quickly, a well-trained mask slipping into place, but you catch the slight widening of her eyes, the way her fingers tighten just a bit.

When the conversation is over, she turns to you, arms crossed, voice a delicate mix of amusement and hesitancy. "Wife, huh? That’s...a rather serious word, don’t you think?" There’s no irritation in her voice, just a quiet wariness.

You lean in and reassure her—tell her it just felt natural—she exhales, her stance softening. "I suppose... it doesn’t sound terrible coming from you." She smirks faintly, then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she murmurs, "Say it again. Just once."

▢ gale

Gale practically beams. He was in the middle of explaining some grand magical theory when you casually referred to him as your husband, and the conversation might as well have ceased to exist. He turns to you with wide, delighted eyes, as if you just handed him the crown jewel of Mystra herself.

"You—you truly think of me that way?" His voice is filled with genuine wonder, his hands twitching as if resisting the urge to pull you into an embrace right there. "I must admit, I rather like the sound of it."

For the rest of the day, he finds ways to bring it up—entirely coincidentally, of course. "Ah, yes, my spouse and I were just discussing that," he’ll say to a trader. Or, "Well, as my beloved has so kindly pointed out..." He’s positively radiant, and when the two of you are alone, he holds you close, murmuring, "One day, perhaps, we could make it more than just words."

▢ karlach

Karlach lets out the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. One moment, she’s hauling a crate of supplies, and the next, she’s throwing an arm around you, laughing loud enough to startle a nearby bard.

"Wife? You think I’m wife material?" She practically lifts you off the ground in a hug, her infernal engine humming warmly. "Oh, babe, you really know how to make a girl’s heart melt."

For the rest of the day, she won’t stop teasing you. "Hey, love, your wife could use a back rub after all that heavy lifting." Or "Shouldn't a wife get extra rations? I think that’s fair." But underneath the playful exterior, there’s a warmth in her gaze every time she looks at you—like you just gave her something precious she never thought she could have.

▢ lae'zel

The moment the word leaves your mouth—wife—Lae’zel halts. Her expression sharpens, golden eyes locking onto yours with an unreadable intensity. The person you were speaking to wisely excuses themselves, sensing the tension crackling in the air.

She steps closer, head tilting, her voice a low rumble. "You claim me as a wife?" It isn’t anger, but a challenge. Prove it, her tone demands.

You meet her gaze unwaveringly and confirm it without hesitation, she exhales, something pleased flashing across her face. "Hmph. Among my kin, such a title is not spoken lightly. If you speak it, you must own it."

Later, when camp is quiet and you were walking towards your tent, she pulls you aside, her hand gripping your wrist—possessive, firm but there was a softness to it that couldn't be denied. She looked flustered, frowning at you with a twitch of her brow," As your... wife. I demand we sleep in the same tent."

▢ wyll

Wyll is in the middle of charming a noble when you casually refer to him as your husband. The words slip from your lips without hesitation, and at first, he doesn’t react—so well-trained in maintaining composure. Only until the noble left did something warm flicker in his bi-coloured eyes, his confident smile faltering for just a heartbeat.

"Ah—your what?" He turns to you, and for the first time in a long while, the Blade of Frontiers looks genuinely caught off guard.

When you confirm it with an easy smile, he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, as if trying to suppress the warmth creeping up his face. "Well, now you’ve gone and made a man blush," he teases, but there’s a softness to it. A part of him that seems to hold onto the word like a cherished melody.

Later that evening, when the two of you have a rare quiet moment, he leans in, his voice lower, more earnest. "You really see me that way?" His hand finds yours, thumb tracing circles against your palm. "Because I could get used to that."

▢ halsin

Halsin is kneeling by a wounded animal, murmuring a quiet spell of healing, when the word husband leaves your lips. It’s said so casually—to another druid, in passing—that at first, he doesn’t seem to react.

But then, as the spell finishes, he turns to you, golden eyes warm with something deeply affectionate. A slow smile spreads across his face, creasing the corners of his eyes. "Husband," he repeats, testing the weight of it, his voice rich with amusement. "That is… a title of great commitment. And yet, hearing it from you, it feels as though it has always been true."

There’s no teasing, no hesitation—only an earnest kind of joy. He steps closer, brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch feather-light. "If this is how you see me, then I will wear the title with pride." His voice drops to a low murmur, meant only for you. "And should you ever wish to make it more than words, I will answer gladly."

From that moment on, he often refers to you in kind—my heart, my love, and, on particularly affectionate days, even my wife/husband/mate. It is not just a title to him; it is a promise.

▢ minthara

Minthara doesn’t react at first. Not outwardly. She merely continues sharpening her blade, her red eyes cold and unreadable as you casually refer to her as your wife in conversation.

The person you were speaking to quickly departs, sensing the weight of silence that follows. Then, without looking up, Minthara speaks, her voice dangerously low. "You called me wife."

It isn’t a question. It’s an evaluation. A test.

You confirm it, she finally lifts her gaze to meet yours, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "How bold of you," she muses, setting her blade aside. "Amongst lolth-sworn drow, such words are not spoken lightly. They are a claim. A promise."

She stands, stepping into your space, her presence as commanding as ever. A hand grips your chin—not harsh, but firm. Possessive. "If you call me wife, then you had best mean it."

And yet, later that night, when the camp is quiet and she believes no one is watching, she lingers at your side a little longer. A rare softness flickers in her eyes before she turns away, murmuring to you just loud enough for you to hear—"Hmph. It does have a certain... power to it."

▢ raphael

The moment the word husband leaves your lips, Raphael goes completely still. The conversation you were having with an unfortunate merchant screeches to a halt as the cambion turns his attention fully on you. The air crackles with something dangerous—something deeply, intensely amused.

A slow smirk stretches across his lips. "My dear, I do believe I misheard you," he purrs, voice as smooth as velvet. "Did you just call me your husband? How delightfully bold of you."

He steps closer, red eyes gleaming with something unreadable—pleasure? Possession? The thrill of a game he suddenly must win? He takes your hand, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. Never breaking eye contact as his lips were curved in that usual salacious smirk of his,"Now, if you are to call me husband, I expect proper treatment. Gifts. Devotion. Perhaps a throne befitting a devil of my caliber."

There’s teasing in his tone, but beneath it? Oh, there’s something else entirely. Later, when no one is around, he murmurs against your ear, "let me hear it again... it sounds so terribly tempting when it falls from those lips of yours."

▢ rolan

Rolan is mid-rant—complaining about some idiot who failed to organise the library books the right way—when you absentmindedly refer to him as your husband. He stops talking. Completely.

His mouth opens. Closes. His tail flicks rapidly behind him, betraying his internal spiral.

"Wha—wait—what did you just call me?" His voice cracks, and he immediately clears his throat, straightening his shoulders in a desperate attempt to regain his dignity.

When you repeat it, casual as ever, he stares at you like you just cast Wish in front of him. "That’s… I mean, I am an impressive partner, but—" He crosses his arms, looking away, his cheeks burning a darker, unmistakable shade of red. "You can’t just say things like that without warning someone!"

But for the rest of the day, he’s noticeably smug—standing taller, magic practically crackling at his fingertips. And if you listen closely, you might hear him muttering under his breath: "Husband. Hah... obviously."

[chxrrywines]

₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader

requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)

a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.

He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.

And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.

He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.

His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.

“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.

And then he pulled away.

His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”

Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.

“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.

“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”

Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”

She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.

“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”

“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”

They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.

But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”

She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”

Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.

“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”

He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.

He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.

“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.

She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.

“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.

“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”

His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.

“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.

“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”

Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.

“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.

“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”

The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”

“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.

She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.

Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.

She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.

Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.

By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.

“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.

She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.

“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”

She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.

“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”

She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”

Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”

Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.

“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”

She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.

Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.

“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”

“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”

Sam smiled. “Guilty.”

Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”

He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”

She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”

[preciosapascal]

Trouble

Summary: You planned to spend the summer at Sarah's, but you show up a day early and she’s not there. Joel doesn't mind.

Word Count: 6k

Pairing: Best Friends Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings/info: 18+ MINORS DNI, pics for mood only, no outbreak au, reader is early-mid 20's and Joel is 47, pet names (darling, baby, ect), SMUT, unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill), one or two uses of pussy pronouns, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, Joel is a lil bit of a perv

A/N: i'm honestly blown away by the amount of love my last story got! thank you so much! been on and off writing this one for a couple of weeks. i hope you enjoy, feedback is much appreciated! if you're interested in my other stories, here's my masterlist 💝

Being best friends with Sarah has it's perks, main one being that she's an amazing friend and you've been inseparable since you met a couple years back in college. Another being you got to spend the last two summers at her house. And the other perk being that her dad is hot. Like really hot.

When you first met him, you thought he was a grumpy bastard, and he can be, but he warmed up to you the more time you spent at the house. You'd share beers with him some evenings, Sarah there too - and tell him all about college, your family and anything else that came up during the conversation.

You once mentioned to Sarah that you thought her dad was 'handsome', putting it lightly, and she laughed her ass off - then told him. You could've died on the spot when she brought it up over pizza that night but you stood your ground, fighting the embarrassment.

"Just being honest." you shrugged, nudging Sarah before glancing at Joel and trying to gauge his reaction. He just laughed quietly, shaking his head. He liked it, whether he'd ever admit it or not.

You laugh at the memory as you drive to their house to stay for the summer for the third year running. Music playing, windows down and a duffle bag full of half of your closet in the trunk. When you arrive you decide you'll grab your bag later and lock your car before walking toward the front door and knocking.

Joel answers after a few seconds, a small smile on his lips. "Afternoon, trouble.”

You're very thankful for the sunglasses that sit on your face as you fully check out the gorgeous man in front of you. Plaid shirt, blue jeans, greying hair combed back. How does he look better every time you see him?

"Sarah's out, staying with Tommy and Maria to babysit while they renovate, not due back till tomorrow mornin'. She not tell you?..."

"Ah shit, no no - she did, I completely forgot." you reply, realising you mixed up the days. The original plan was to come today until Sarah texted you last week to make it a day later, which slipped your mind.

Joel leans against the doorframe, arms crossing over his broad chest; a sympathetic smile graces his lips. He eyes you for a moment, taking in your appearance.

You sigh, pushing your sunglasses up to rest on top of your head. Joel stifles a small chuckle, making you laugh and then pout. "Not funny."

He can’t help but laugh softly to himself at your pouty expression, "Poor darlin’.” he muses teasingly then nods his head into the house, “Come on in, anyway.” he steps aside, giving you room to enter.

"You sure? You don't have to invite me in out of pity." you laugh, though you're internally screaming at the thought of being alone with him.

Joel light-heartedly rolls his eyes and tuts. He gestures to the couch that peeks from around the side of the door. “Make yourself at home, m'gonna grab us a beer if y'want one?" he asks, turning to you as he walks towards the kitchen and you nod in response.

Once you get settled on the couch, Joel fully disappears into the kitchen, and reappears a moment later with two beers. He takes a seat in the chair adjacent from the couch, hands you a beer he opened for you already then opens his own.

It’s quiet for a few beats as he flips the cap off, then Joel says, “No boyfriend or anything yet then?."

You thank him for the beer and then scoff a laugh at his question. "Nah, had a few flings here and there but nothing serious, y'know?" you reply before sipping the cold beer. "

Joel takes a swig of his beer, watching you with a curious expression. “That right? Ain’t found the right guy yet? Cause I'm having trouble understanding what would make a guy not want to stick around.”

You shake your head as you swallow your mouthful, feeling a blush threatening to appear at his comment. "I’m not trying to settle down right now. Whatever happens, happens."

Joel chuckles in response then took another swig from his beer. “You're a bit of a free spirit, aintcha?” he teases, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

"I guess so." you smile, crossing one leg over the other.

Joel’s gaze slowly travels down to your ripped jeans clad legs. Damn, he thinks to himself, you look good. He averts his gaze, forcing himself to think about literally anything else.

"What about you then, hm? No girlfriend yet?" you throw his question right back at him.

Joel scoffs and shakes his head. “Nah, m’not looking either.”

You huff a laugh at the similarity in your answers, yet for some reason, as if it means well for you - your stomach flutters.

"I hear ya." you say, holding your beer out towards him with a playful grin.

Joel mirrors your action and brings his own bottle up to clink it against yours. “To bein’ single, then. Damn, what a depressing toast.”

You laugh, agreeing with him. “To being single." you repeat before you both sip from your bottles.

Silence falls over the room, but it's not awkward, it's comfortable. Joel couldn’t help but steal another glance at you, shamelessly eyeing your figure for a few moments while you checked your phone.

“Guess I’d better grab my bag out of my car.” you sigh, standing up and stretching. Then you pause. “Sarah did tell you I’m staying for the whole summer again, right?”

Joel nods his head in affirmation, “She did. You're welcome to stay tonight too, sweetheart. I'll keep outta your hair."

You smile and nod, placing your beer down before he continues. "Stayin’ here for the whole summer another year running, huh?” he's immediately hit with memories of how loud you and Sarah can get.

"Mhm. Lucky you." you retort with a cheeky grin before grabbing your car keys.

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Real lucky.” he says sarcastically as you disappear to fetch your bag. He has another gulp of his beer, his gaze lingering on the spot on the couch where you were sitting.

Joel looks over at you with raised eyebrows when you re-enter the house, taking in how big your duffle bag is. “Geez, how much stuff you got in there?”

“Enough for the whole summer, hopefully. Gonna take this upstairs to Sarah’s room.” you grab the handles, attempting to lift it yet you struggled earlier and your neighbour kindly offered to help lift it into your car because you couldn't lift it high enough to shove it into the trunk.

Joel watches in amusement for a minute as you struggle then he stands up and walks over to you, putting a hand on your arm to stop you. "Woah, woah, hold on. Lemme help you with that, darlin'."

He gently takes the bag off of your shoulder, his fingers grazing your shoulder. "What're you packin' in here? Rocks?"

"Clothes, shoes, accessories, y'know...girl stuff." you move back, opening and closing your hand a few times to get the feeling back.

Joel slings the bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing, and you feel a jolt of arousal shoot though you as wonder if he could lift you just as effortlessly.

What you don't realise is that Joel can practically feel your gaze on him the whole time, making him smirk to himself. When he gets to the top he turns around with a smug smile on his face.

"See? Wasn't so hard was it?" he says teasingly, holding that bag up with one hand to prove his point.

"Yeah, yeah." you reply, waving him off.

He playfully rolls his eyes before he walks into Sarah's room, setting your bag down with a thud. You thank him as he descends the stairs before walking back to your spot on the couch and taking your beer.

Joel settles back into his seat. Another comfortable silence washes over the two of you briefly until Joel brakes it.

“Soo,” he drawls, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his gaze meets yours. “How much trouble you plan on causing during your lil’ visit?”

You lean back into the sofa more and exhale an amused puff of air from your nose. "Oh, tons, obviously."

Joel chuckles at your response, shaking his head slightly. His gaze remained on you longer than necessary. The way you were lounging back against the couch was making it difficult for him to think clearly.

“You wanna watch a movie or somethin' before I bore ya to death?” he nods towards the TV, waiting for your reply.

"Oh stop it, you're not boring but sure, a movie sounds good to me."

Joel stands up, grabbing the remote and takes a seat on the other side of the couch you're on this time, only so he could see the tv better, of course, then scrolls through the movie options. "You got a specific movie in mind, trouble'? Or am I pickin'?"

"I'll watch anything, you pick." you say, making yourself more comfy, shifting on the couch and tucking your legs under you.

He glances over at you, his gaze lingering on the way you nestled into the couch, legs tucked under, comfortable. He swallows, focusing back on the TV. He scrolls through the available movies, and after a few moments, settles on a comedy movie. When the opening credits begin to play he settles back into his seat, taking another swig of his beer. His gaze drifts to you every few minutes, he's hyper aware of your presence only one seat away.

At a particularly funny moment, out of habit, you reach out and grasp Joel's forearm as you laugh. It's something you've always done, something Sarah was used to. He jolts slightly in surprise, the touch sending tingles up his arm. He glances down at your hand on his forearm then back up to you. He can vaguely recall you doing this with Sarah but had never been on the receiving end himself.

You catch yourself, reminding yourself who you're with. "Oh god, sorry. I do it to Sarah all the time." you explain, smiling sheepishly and patting his arm before retracting your hand.

He slowly relaxes his shoulders, the corners of his lips tugged into a smile you apologize. "S'alright, no need to apologize." he says, his voice raspy, his southern drawl more evident than usual. In that moment, Joel realises just how much trouble he really is in.

The movie continues playing, but Joel finds it harder to pay attention. The feeling of your hand on him still lingered on his skin, and he found himself wanting more. Instead, he takes his last gulp of beer, his gaze shifting back to the TV. He clears his throat softly before abruptly standing up.

"Another?" he asks, shaking his empty beer bottle and nodding towards yours. You agree, handing him your empty bottle when he holds his hand out for it.

He heads to the kitchen to grab two more beers, taking a minute to collect himself.

He returns, the necks of the beer bottles between his fingers and hands one to you, sitting back down but just a bit closer this time. You notice his sleeves are rolled up now and you can't help gazing at his arms. You're unsure if it's just because they're attached to him or if he really does have nice arms. God you need to get laid soon.

You untuck your legs that now ache slightly and stretch them out before placing them on Joel's lap, a playful grin on your face.

Joel feels his heart rate quicken as you place your legs on his lap and he has to bite his tongue to prevent himself from letting out a single sound.

"Comfy, huh darlin'?" he asks, his voice a little hoarse.

You laugh a little, looking over at him. "I am. You make a great foot rest, actually."

Joel chuckles at your playful words. "Glad I could be of service." he replies, trying to ignore the way your laugh sends jolts of arousal straight to his dick. He takes another gulp of beer, his gaze flickering down and his hand almost moves on its own accord, lightly resting on your ankle.

Late afternoon turns into evening, evening turns into night as you continue watching movies and drink a couple more beers. He's become accustomed to your legs on his lap, and each time you return from making a trip to the kitchen or to the bathroom, he waits the few seconds it takes you to sit back down and rest your legs on him once more. You've both had a few more beers than intended. Joel is feeling a pleasant buzz, and he can tell that you are too.

As the night wears on, Joel gets more bold and starts slowly tracing his fingers up your calf. He only moves a little each time, testing the waters. He keeps his gaze fixed on the movie, but his mind is going wild, his heart thumping in his chest and his dick twitching in his pants.

You swallow hard as his fingers reach the bare skin between the rips in your jeans, while you're trying your hardest to seem unbothered as your eyes are also fixed on the screen.

It feels like you've got an angel and devil on your shoulders like those old cartoons. The angel is telling you that this is a bad idea, stop this right now, this is your best friends dad. Yet the devil is telling you to go for it, you want it, ride it out and hell, ride Joel too.

Joel’s fingers continue their slow journey upwards, tracing circles on the denim. He’s hyper-aware of every movement you make, every hitch in your breath. He knows he's playing a dangerous game, but right now, he doesn’t care.

Over the next few minutes, the movie long forgotten now, his fingers move further, now tracing lazy patterns on the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. He can feel the tension between you growing. He looks over at you, his gaze hooded and heavy.

You can feel his gaze and look over. When your eyes meet, a moment of pure heat and undeniable desire passes between you. There's a fire there, and it's growing with each passing second. Joel's hand continues its slow, rhythmic movement, his thumb lightly grazing the skin of your thigh. His gaze is intense, unyielding.

You mentally flick the angel off your shoulder and mutter "fuck it." before shifting your position so you're now kneeling beside him and turn his face toward you to press your lips against his.

Joel is momentarily caught off guard by your bold move. His mind is screaming this is a bad idea, but his body is singing a different tune. A low moan escapes him, his eyes fluttering shut on reflex.

His free hand immediately grasps the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. The moment his tongue flicks out to glide against yours, his restraint snaps. He grips your hips with his large hands and tugs you onto his lap.

Suddenly his lips are hot against your neck, trailing a line of kisses as his hands slide from your hips under your shirt, resting on your bare waist.

He pulls back, breathing heavy and looking at you. "C'mon, my room. Not doing this in the family room." he mumbles, pulling you up by your hand. You understand and let him lead you to his room and as soon as you're in there, you resume the position, his back against the headboard and you straddling his lap.

You moan softly as his lips and greying scruff move against your neck again. You've only imagined this hundreds of times before and now it's happening, all reasoning and goodwill and out the window.

With how easy it is for him to slip into this, and you, you're rethinking everything that's ever happened. Everything you've ever convinced yourself was Joel just being friendly, fleeting looks, touches, everything. You know for sure now it was what you thought.

“You know exactly what you’ve been doing. A-always hovering around when I’m here with Sarah…touching my back when you walk past me…” you whisper, slowly rocking your hips against his.

“Fuck, I know.” he rasps, his hands moving up to your hips, holding you in place to match your rhythm. You take your chance to place kisses on his neck. He smells faintly of cologne and a natural manly musk that makes your cunt clench around nothing.

"Always teasing me." you murmur between kisses against his neck.

Joel lets out breathy curse and rolls his head back to give you more access. His hands slide down to your ass, gripping tightly to chase the delicious friction between you. “Teasing you? Darlin’ I was trying to be a fuckin’ saint.”

You place a couple more kisses on his neck before lifting your head from his neck, moving your arms to hang loosely over his shoulders and looking him in the eye. “Yeah? Walking around in only a towel after your shower? Leaning over me at the table to grab stuff?” you continue grinding your hips down onto his as you speak.

Joel’s eyes go nearly black as you recount his actions, and it finally occurs to him that he wasn’t nearly as subtle as he thought he was, and he loves it.

He pushes you down onto his bed on your back and lifts your tank top, his calloused fingers grazing the skin of your sides.

“What about you? When you’d bend all the way over just to grab somethin' from the refrigerator when you knew I was behind you? Paradin' yourself around my house in your tiny shorts?"

You mindlessly run your nails gently up and down his arms as he hovers over you. "I knew you were watching. Always watching when I'm here, aren't you Joel?" you ask, tilting your head.

Joel yanks the fabric over your head and tosses it to the floor, his eyes roaming over your chest covered by a lacy white bra. He leans down, chest pressed against yours, and responds in a gruff tone

“Like a damn hawk, darlin’.” His large hands trail up your sides, his head dips down to graze his lips across your collar bone. “Always watchin'…listenin' to you, smellin' your sweet perfume all over my fuckin' house.” he murmurs against you.

You think back to the fact you used to spray it everywhere, hoping to god it had this sort of affect and you almost smirk.

He hums against your neck, his hands roaming down to your jeans, finger and thumb making quick work of the button. “Thought I was going crazy.” he mumbles, tugging on the zip. “Could smell you everywhere...was like torture.” he says, moving back and pulling your jeans off, throwing them aside too.

“Fuck…I imagined us like this so many times. your big hands all over me- fuck.” you whimper as his thumbs run over your hard nipples through the flimsy cups of your bra, making your back arch off the bed.

Joel’s mind nearly explodes as you tell him your dirty thoughts. All those hours of him holding back, trying to keep his mind from wandering, and you were doing the same? He almost smirks.

He takes advantage of the fact you're arched so beautifully for him and slips a hand under you, his fingers splayed across your lower back and the other reaching to unclasp your bra. He pulls it down your arms, dropping it onto the pile of other clothes.

He pushes himself up on one hand, the other reaching down between you, fumbling with his belt as he speaks, “That right, darlin'? I’ve tugged my cock countless times thinkin' about having you like this.”

"You've stroked your cock over me?" you ask, eyes on the hand unbuckling his belt.

He looks up at you, eyes almost completely consumed with lust, as he unzips his jeans and pulls them down his thighs a little, just enough for his cock to not feel like it's suffocating in his boxers.

“Mm. Spent so many nights imagining burying my cock inside you…” he continues, and grinds his clothed length against you, as if demonstrating before continuing.

“God, the way you look at me…” he groans. “the way you laugh at my shitty jokes, those little outfits you wear…” he says, hitching one of your legs around his waist and leaning down towards you, his eyes scanning your face.

“You remember when I had that barbecue last summer? you and Sarah danced…and every time you spun…that damn skirt would ride up.”

You remember that very well…after all, you wore it on purpose. You felt kind of guilty after that, kind of parading yourself around for your besties father (even though Sarah had no idea), but knowing now how it affected him, that's the last thing on your mind.

“Yeah, I remember." you reply, wrapping your other leg around his waist and pulling him towards you more, needing more friction.

He practically loses it as you grind against him, thinking about when he sat in his backyard, trying to ignore the way your little skirt bounced, or how he would see your perfect ass cheeks peeping out of the bottom of your shorts. He was about to go mad.

“oh, I know you did. bet you fucking knew I was sitting there, trying to act normal while I’m dyin’, watching your perfect ass appear and disappear under that skirt."

You whimper as he cups one of your bare breasts, the other hand trailing downwards. “Look at these.” Joel whispers as he leans forward and takes a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the bud.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you thought about when you were dancin', what you wanted me to do’.” he murmurs between teasing licks, his other hand teasing you through the fabric of your now soaked panties.

You let out a desperate moan, your mind begging him to do something. “I wanted…I wanted you to grab me, make me dance on your cock instead.” you say, voice strained as you try to grind yourself against his fingers.

A breathy curse escapes him at your words. He had to hear you say it. He needed to know you were thinking the same dirty thoughts as him. “You got no idea...wanted to grab you, pull your skirt up and fuck you right there.”

The mental imagine his filthy words conjure up, and his fingers teasing your pussy through your panties have you letting out a desperate noise you don't even recognise. God the noises you made. He needed to hear more of them, so his fingers slip under the side your panties.

“Y'like hearing what I wanna do to ya, huh?” he rasps as his fingers slide through your folds. “Soaked just thinking about it.”

You curse when his fingers finally make contact with your bare pussy and moan out a pathetic "Yeah."

“Fuuck, that’s it baby. Make those pretty noises for me.” Joel groans, easily slipping two fingers in your sopping centre, making you blush at how desperate you are right now. He begins to pump them and at a toe curling rhythm, making you gasp and moan his name.

He shuffles down your body, and pulls your panties aside to get a better look.

"So pretty." he murmurs, practically salivating at the sight before him, continuing his ministrations. He moves even closer, his hot breath ghosting over you, making you exhale and bite your lip.

"Tha’s right, baby. show me how bad you want it.” he says, his thumb now circling your clit. His eyes flit between your perfect pussy that's drenching his fingers and your pretty face as it contorts in pleasure. You reach behind you, grasping the edge of the mattress to ground yourself.

"Gotta taste this pussy. Can I, baby? Will ya let me?" he mumbles against the inside of your thigh before his tongue flicks out to tease the skin. He withdraws his fingers, toying with the slick, running it up and down your slit.

"ohgod...please." you almost whine. His cock is throbbing and almost hurts with every sound you make. He can smell your sweet scent and it's driving him insane. The moment you agree, his face is directly in front of your cunt, inhaling deeply.

Without warning, he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, tongue flat. You sigh, almost in relief at the sensation. Fuck it felt so good. He lets out a low moan, as if he were a starved man having eating for the first time in days.

His tongue dances over your sensitive little bud, his mind reeling. He never thought it'd happen. Yet here you are, legs open in front of his face and he was basking in it.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders, his lips latch onto your clit, sucking hard. You gasp and thread your fingers through his hair.

His hands trail over your thighs and then up to cup your tits, squeezing them gently. He alternates his tongues movements, licking and sucking, your moans and whimpers not helping the fact his cock feels slightly neglected now.

After a little more, he pulls away from your clit with a pop and looks up at you, his lips, chin and even the tip of his nose glistening with your juices. "She's a great kisser." he teases, wiping his face on his sleeve before slipping off the bed, rising to his feet and unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it aside. That line should've made you cringe and with anyone else it probably would've, but it didn't.

"Can I return the favour?" you ask as you prop yourself up on your elbows, wanting nothing more than to have his cock sliding down your throat.

"As good as that sounds darlin', my cocks achin' to get inside ya." he says, pulling his jeans and boxers down and kicking them aside. He gets back onto his bed, resting against the headboard. "c'mere." he beckons you over.

Your eyes trail down his body, shamelessly looking at his cock as you move towards him. He's bigger than you imagined, his balls big and heavy underneath. You don't have that much time to look as Joel pulls you over to him. "Havin' a good look there?" he teases, a smirk plastered on his face as you mount him.

"Well I mean, you just had your face between my legs, s'only fair I get a peek of what I'm about to sit on." you retort your hands on his shoulders as you hover above him, sitting up on your knees.

He lets out a low husky chuckle, the fact that you were comfortable enough to tease him back made his cock twitch and then a deep groan erupts from him as you run your pussy up and down the underside of his cock.

"You enjoy being a little tease, huh? like playi- fuck -playin' little games?" his voice is strained as you move a little further than intended, his cock nudging your entrance, making you both moan. He grips your hips, leaning back and his eyes zero in on where you're almost connected. "Again." he breathes. "fuck, do that again."

You happily comply, whimpering every time the head nudges your clit and moaning in sync with him as it prods your soaking wet hole. "Jesus-" he grunts, his head falling back. It feels so fucking good but it's taking everything in him not to drag you down onto his cock.

He can't take much more, and you're right there with him. Desperate to feel him properly. He wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you and grabs the base of his cock to line himself up. "you ready, baby?" he murmurs against the skin of your shoulder.

"mhm." you hum as his hands grip your hips. "but, slow...at first. been a while." you mumble, cheeks flushing.

His lust filled eyes soften for a moment at your confession. "you just take what you need, however you need to. we got all night, sweetheart."

Your heart flutters a little at that. This man just told you how much he's dreamed of fucking you, that he's been playing with his cock to the thought of you, yet being so understanding on top of that makes him even sexier.

You nod, before lowering yourself down on him. He closes his eyes, jaw ticking as he tries to stay still, the urge to buck up into your tight heat almost to much. "tha's it, baby...just like that."

You can't help the string of noises that escape your lips as you slowly sink onto him. When you reach the bottom, you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

"You okay?" he breathes out, one of his hands moving from your hip to trace his finger tips up your spine.

"m'fine. just needed a second." you say, fighting the embarrassment. It's not like you've never rode a dick, but it's just been while and jesus was this one bigger than the others. You suck it up and lift your head to meet his eyes, giving him a nod to let him know you're good to go. You slowly start to lift, with Joel guidance, before moving back down.

You moan together as you move, his eyes glued to your face. One hand still on your back and the other on your hip to keep you steady. "you feel so fuckin' good...don't stop. keep goin'..like that." His words only encourage you, your pace picking up as you ride him, the lewd sounds of your bodies coming together filling the air.

He starts to move his hips, matching your movements and hitting that spongey spot inside your cunt, making your eyes roll back. He takes advantage of that fact, watching your tits bounce in his face as he tries to catch a nipple with his tongue.

"Oh god...Joel..." you moan, leaning back and grasping his thighs behind you.

"Tha's right, beautiful. Fuck yourself on your friend's old mans cock." he says, watching your body move. His words are disgusting, they should turn you off, yet they make you tighten around him.

"Ah, you like that don't cha? Dirty fuckin' girl."

You nod, the embarrassment shooting straight down to your cunt. "Yeah?" he coos, pressing you, wanting to hear you say it.

"Mmyeah." you whimper pathetically as you continue moving up and down his thick cock.

"Look at me, baby girl. I wanna see that gorgeous face." He says in that deep, gravelly voice, his hand moving to your chin and tilting your head down to look at him. As soon as your eyes lock on his, the intensity makes you moan. "There she is..." he says, looking at how fucking wrecked you look. Pupils blown, cheeks flushed, hair dishevelled.

Your chest flutters and cheeks burn a little darker under his gaze. God, you always imagined you'd be more confident if you ever got to fuck him, thought you'd be calling the shots. But he's got you, and you're lost in it.

He starts to meet your movements, lifting his hips to bury himself to the hilt over and over. His hand moves from your chin to your neck, his fingers wrap around it. Your breath hitches and it makes he smirk again. "This what you want?" he murmurs, giving your throat a light squeeze.

"Mmmm, yes.." you mewl, barely able to talk. Your mind is swimming in lust and desire, our thoughts consumes by the man in front of you. He tightens his grip around your neck, his thumb pressing on your jaw to keep your gaze locked on him.

"What about last fourth July? remember that?" he asks with his signature gruff drawl.

You know exactly what he’s talking about and it makes you moan. "Mmh- yeah…" you manage. "I remember."

He gives a low, amused chuckle as he recalls the memory. "You in that lil’ blue bikini...walkin’ around my place, all tan and wet." Every other word he speaks is met with a harder thrust, making you whine.

Memories of that day flood your mind and heat pools in your belly. That was the first time you noticed Joel stare at you in a way that wasn't how your best friends dad should.

"Joel...I need- please I-" He takes the hint, shifting your position so you're now on your back on his bed, his cock still nestled deep inside you.

"I know, baby, I know." He purrs, his face going between your neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking all the sensitive skin he can get his mouth on. He lifts your left leg and drapes it over his hip, then he quickly buries himself in your tight heat again. "Fuuuck you're so tight.." he moans, head falling back.

His cock constantly hits the right spot over and over, you're sure your vision will go white any second. "So good...mmfuck, Joel..."

Your hands that look small in comparison to his, grasp his biceps and pull him down for a desperate, messy kiss. Joel's body covers yours, his muscular form surrounding you. He kisses you feverishly, every movement of his tongue and lips making that feeling in your gut coil tighter and tighter.

"Joel-” you gasp as the feeling in your stomach gets stronger. He can already feel how tight you're getting around him.

"Gonna come ain'tcha? C'mon baby, lemme feel you." his own breathing is ragged, he's not far behind you. He leans down, pressing kisses to the column of your throat as he fucks you faster.

You're unable to form a coherent sentence anymore, just needy sounds escaping you as he fucks you good, your walls tightening around him and making his hips stutter.

"There ya go...keep squeezin' me like that.." he encourages, hips moving impossibly faster.

"M'so close." you whimper, nails leaving little crescent indents in his back.

"Mmyeah, I know baby...can feel it. Gonna fill this lil' pussy up. That what you want? Wanna be full of me?" he grits, lifting his head up from your neck.

"Shit...yeah, I want it. Give it to me, please." you beg in your lust filled haze. You're right on the edge now, just needing a little something to help you over.

A gravelly moan rumbles in his chest at your words. "Look at you...wrecked and begging for my come." Those words have you clenching him again. He's so fucking close but wants to make sure you get there first.

You only whine in response, unable to come up with words as that tightness in your stomach gets so tight, you feel like you'll snap. It's like he's everywhere at once, the sensations are overwhelming and you can barely take it.

"I got ya, baby. C'mon now. Need t'see you fall apart on my cock." he murmurs.

That's it, that's all it takes. Your thighs are trembling, vision hazy, back arching, toes curling, all the orgasm cliches you'd never experienced with these frat boys who just want to get their dicks wet.

Joel watches you in awe. "Oh fuck...there we go, jus' like that." That was it for Joel too, watching you fall apart sends him over. His head drops down, hips stuttering as he rides through it with you, his movements slowing.

You're both trying to catch your breaths, sweat covers your bodies. Joel's still on top, supporting his weight with a hand on either side of your head. He lifts up slightly so he can look at you, a smirk plastered on his bearded face.

"Looking real happy with yourself there." you say, letting out a small breathy laugh.

He chuckles, the sound deep and satisfied. "Can ya blame me?" he murmurs, his head dipping down to press a kiss to your cheek, his beard scratching your skin.

But the sounds of the front door opening downstairs makes you both freeze and then Sarah's voice rings out, calling for you both. She'd have seen your car outside.

Fuck.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Mad Woman"

ok yall im out of school now! this was rushed so don't judge, when i write i just pour out whatever's in my head, that's why it's almost always rushed. i feel like if i don't write it, it'll disappeare! also to everyone hating in my asks, NO ONE IS FORCING YOU TO READ MY WORK!!!! hating does nothing but discourage me and lower my already non-existent confidence in my writing. pls leave me alone, if you don't have anything nice to say; don't say anything. i LOVE all my positive asks and comments, they make my day. don't ruin it for me.

Prologue: hapter 1: Chapter 2: Chapter 3: Chapter 4: Chapter 5 Chapter 6:

Six months, that's how long it's been since Bruce exiled you to New York and left you alone once again. It's been 387 days since Tiffany Maverick pulled the rug from beneath your feet and ensnared your family in her web of lies and manipulation. For six months, your family ignored you, only Alfred sending you the occasional care package which you promptly threw in the garbage.

You wish Tiffany and Damian were as content with ignoring you as the rest of the family but unfortunately, they went out of their way to rub their closeness in your face by sending you pictures of family movie night, family game night, and the family attending their school events. It made you angry at first, before you saw how funny it was. A family of billionaires, a family of detectives, a family of vigilantes, sitting next to a spy; obliviously feeding her insider information. The Batman, sitting grinning ear to ear next to a girl who could be his downfall.

Surprisingly, boarding school was amazing. The boys were hot, though most arrogant and dumb, they were all loaded and into you. The girls idolized you from the moment you walked in, your word was law around here and the power felt amazing. You decided what was in and out, who was hot and who was not; a huge difference and change of pace from the years of bullying and ridicule at Gotham Prep.

The charm came with your new abilities, most likely. Sure, the first two months were fucking painful and exposed you to pain you didn't think was possible but it was a small price to pay. It was nothing for the power of being able to charm and flirt your way out of just about anything, being able to eject venom with the slightest trace of your fresh set of acrylics, being able to literally bite people with your fangs and have them enjoy it, sensing heat signatures and feeling emotions and eyes on you, having the ability to give literal bone-crushing hugs, and so many things you haven't even discovered.

Not to mention your random overnight makeover! Suddenly, your figure was to die for, perfect in all senses of the word. Your skin gleamed and shimmered in the light, long shed away were all the blemishes and scars. Your hair always shiny and your teeth always pearly white, albeit a bit sharp. You're the image of beauty.

Who cares about the price when the product was this good anyway?

Who needed familial love when everyone here worshipped you? That new view and utter hatred for the family is what convinced you to accept Ariele, your boarding school bff and roomie,'s offer to spend summer break with her family in the south of france. Of course, you wanted to go back to manor for a week before meeting her there. Alfred asked you to come and though you were angry at him, you missed the old man. You swore to yourself that you'd only stay the night, catch up with Alfred, and ignore your 'family' then promptly spend the summer half naked, tanning on a super yacht with your girls.

Little did you know that you'd never make it to france, in fact, you wouldn't even make it out the manor now that Tim discovered the truth and told the rest of the family.

Tim Drake noticed things. Small things. Minute details that other people might overlook. That's how he found the truth.

It started with the cooking. Tiffany had casually mentioned one evening that she’d found some old recipes in the manor’s archives, recipes that you had once written down, hoping to impress Damian with Arabic dinners and desserts. Tiffany had barely glanced at the handwritten notes before she had offered to make dinner that night—a perfect replica of your signature stuffed cabbage leaves, Malfoof, as you called it.

Tim had been there when it happened. He’d recognized it immediately. The dish was one of your favorites, one you had made for family dinners. It was too familiar, too precise for Tiffany, it lacked the usual love and effort.

Then came the awards. It was subtle at first, too. Tiffany casually dropping that she had “entered a local baking competition” and how much fun it had been to win. Tim had known that you had been the one to actually win that competition the year before, he remembered rolling his eyes as you foolishly tried to impress him. But when he checked the award Tiffany had won? It looked eerily similar to the one that you had earned. Tiffany didn’t even bother hiding her gloating as she showed it off, calling it “another step toward making Gotham proud.”

Tim’s stomach churned. It wasn’t a coincidence. Tiffany was stealing your life and he was the only one that saw it. Who knows what else she was stealing.

The pieces clicked into place when he found the old photo albums. Tiffany had been snooping around the library one afternoon, pulling out albums that had been tucked away in the back, ones that hadn’t been touched in years. They were full of memories of your achievements, pictures of family vacations, awards won for charity work and academic excellence. Baby photo's, old camera's, journals, even old clothes.It wasn’t just admiration. It was an obsession.

He saw her dig through and read every one of your old entries, saw her stare at pictures and attempt to manuever her body how you stood, but what really creeped him out was when she started tracing over your handwriting.

Tim couldn’t let it go. This was insane. It was almost as if Tiffany wanted to wear your skin.

It wasn’t that he wanted to make Tiffany an enemy or villainize her, quite the opposite actually, he'd been ignoring her strange behavior and smell for a year now because of how fond he was of her. But this? This was crossing a line. She wasn’t just trying to fit in anymore, this was dangerous.

He now suspected there was more to Tiffany than just her obsession with your life and after putting the pieces together, it was becoming clear: Tiffany was playing a much deeper game. She wasn’t just trying to steal your identity, she was stealing information, too.

Tim’s investigative skills had been honed through years of being the tech guy of the Batfamily, and when something felt off, he didn’t ignore it. Not anymore, he started tracking small anomalies—times when Tiffany’s presence seemed too convenient, moments when crucial data about Gotham’s underworld went missing from the Batcomputer, or when confidential mission details were leaked through channels Tim knew the Batfamily didn’t use. Times when the Joker seemed to know the family's course of action and times when villains knew Duke's plans.

That’s when it clicked.

Tiffany wasn’t just trying to fit in with the family. She was spying. Her affections with the family were a cover for something darker. She had been gathering intelligence for a shadowy organization, feeding them vital information about their operations. This was bigger than him—this was a full-blown infiltration. Tiffany was working for someone else, someone dangerous.

Tiffany’s betrayal ran deep, and her spying wasn’t just about information anymore; it was personal. She had been stealing pieces of your life, your successes, your talents , your family. She had slowly taken everything that you had worked for and twisted it into her own false narrative. It was sickening.

Tim couldn’t stand it anymore. He had dug through encrypted files, tracked hidden transmissions, and pieced together cryptic conversations. Tiffany wasn’t just trying to steal your identity for the sake of becoming the perfect family member. No. She was mimicking your cooking and baking skills, down to the awards she had won for those very talents. She had been trying to erase you and replace you with a manufactured version of herself.

It was almost too much for Tim to handle. But there was something even worse lurking beneath the surface: the deeper he dug, the more it became clear that Tiffany wasn’t just feeding information to criminals. She had been feeding off your spirit, your presence and she had nearly replaced you entirely.

Now he just needed to tell the other.

The tension in the Batcave could be cut with a knife as Tim stood before Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, Duke, Cass, Steph, Barbara, and Alfred, ready to show them what he had discovered.

“I’ve been tracking Tiffany’s movements for the last few days,” Tim began, his voice low but sharp. “And I found something that’s... unsettling.”

Bruce, who had been scanning a mission report, looked up with interest. Dick turned to Tim, a puzzled expression on his face. Alfred stepped forward, his usual composed demeanor now replaced with a rare concern. Even Damian looked confused.

“What did you find, Master Tim?” Alfred asked, his tone calm, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes.

Tim didn’t hesitate. He clicked a button on the computer, and the large screen behind him flickered to life. A series of encrypted files appeared—mission logs, surveillance footage, and even intercepted communications. The Batcave was suffocating in its silence as Tim presented the evidence to Bruce, Dick, Jason, Alfred, and the others. His fingers flew over the keyboard, and every new image, every new file, felt like a punch in the gut.

There was a long silence as everyone processed the information. Bruce’s usual stoic expression faltered for a moment, and Dick clenched his fists. The weight of the revelation was hitting hard, but it wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt. It was that someone in their midst had been pulling the strings behind their backs for a year.

The data was damning. It was all there, proof that Tiffany had been copying your recipes, your designs, your machines, even stealing the culinary awards that you had earned over the years. And on top of that, she had been siphoning critical Batfamily intel to an unknown organisation. The information was so sensitive, it could have jeopardized every single one of them.

“Do you see it now?” Tim’s voice was quieter, but his anger was unmistakable. He flicked the last file onto the screen. Tiffany’s false accomplishments, stolen directly from you. The stolen recipes. The mission intel sent out from the Batcomputer under her watch. “All of us have been blind to it.”

“About a month ago,” Tim said, “I found an odd encryption pattern in the Batcomputer—something I’ve never seen before. When I decrypted it, I found a set of mission details. Ones that shouldn’t have left the system. I traced the origin back to Tiffany.”

Alfred's face tightened as he took in the footage on the screen. It was a recording of Tiffany accessing classified Batfamily data, tapping into their most sensitive files.

“She’s been stealing information,” Tim continued, his voice gaining intensity. “Every single time she’s interacted with the Batcomputer, she’s been sending that data out to an unknown address. I can't track where it's coming from, it's too advanced; even for me.

“Impossible,” Bruce muttered, but his eyes were narrowing in disbelief. “Why would she—?”

“Because she’s a spy,” Tim interrupted, “and it gets worse. She’s been feeding them everything. Our weaknesses, our next moves, our schedules. She’s not just a mole in the manor. She’s been working against us this whole time. She's why so many missions have failed.Tim’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not just the family’s accomplishments she’s been stealing. She’s been getting close to each of us, using our trust. She knows things, personal things, and she’s been leaking that information. She’s been feeding it to the highest bidder, giving Gotham’s worst players a playbook for taking us down.”

Dick’s face twisted with disbelief. “She was pretending to be (y/n), taking her accomplishments as her own, but—” He trailed off, his voice faltering. “How could we have let this happen? How did we not notice?”

Jason’s voice cut through the heavy silence, rough and sharp, like a crack of thunder. He stepped forward, fists clenched. “I should’ve known. She’s been playing everyone, pretending like she’s all sweet and innocent, but she was using all of us.” Jason’s eyes flicked to the screen, then back at Tim, his face a mask of fury. “She lied to me. She’s been lying to all of us. And she’s been trying to replace her.” His hand slammed onto the table, and the anger in his voice was unmistakable. “She doesn’t belong here. We trusted her. We all trusted her.” Jason’s anger bubbled over. This betrayal, the way Tiffany had wormed her way into their lives, made him see red

He couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I should’ve known,” Jason spat, pacing in circles, his fists clenched tight at his sides. “I let her get close to me. I let her in, we all did! And now look at this. She’s been pretending to be everything she’s not. She’s been trying to take her place, her rightful place in this family!”

Alfred, who had been silent until now, cleared his throat, his voice filled with quiet but growing fury. “I should have seen it,” he muttered, his gaze darkening. “I was too lenient with her. I allowed her to slip through the cracks, to play at being part of this family. I should have known better.” His usually calm demeanor was cracking, and the regret in his voice was palpable.

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line as the weight of Tim’s words sank in. His eyes hardened as he stared at the screen, disappointment creeping into his features. Tiffany had been their guest, their supposed family, and this whole time, she had been playing them all. You had tried to warn them.

Duke, who had been standing quietly at the back of the room, spoke up. His voice was low but steady.

“I knew something was off,” Duke said, his eyes fixed on the screen. “I couldn’t put my finger on it, but... she’d been acting weird around me. Always asking questions—asking about the family, the missions, everything. I thought I was paranoid.”

Damian had always been fiercely protective of what he considered his, no one could ever doubt that. He mocked you, saw you as his pathetic bastard older sister, he had wanted to hurt you. But now, as the reality of Tiffany’s betrayal settled in, something darker began to take root inside him. He remember your unconditional love for him, how you took everything he said did to you with grace and compassion. He remembered how good you were to him. He noticed that everything he thought he loved about Tiffany was what she stole from you. His eyes burned with rage as he thought about how Tiffany had wormed her way into the family and his heart, how she’d stolen your accomplishments, and how she’d attempted to erase his sibling from the very fabric of their world.

She was trying to replace her. That thought alone made his fists tighten, nails biting into his palms.

It had been a long time since Damian had felt this kind of protective rage. He was the blood of the Wayne family, the one who deserved to be at the center of it all, but you; his blood sibling, his equal, had always been ignored, undervalued ridiculed and neglected. And now Tiffany, a mere interloper, had dared to manipulate and tear him away from you.

Damian watched the family, his gaze flicking to each of them as they tried to process the betrayal. The anger from his family was palpable, but there was something else there too: possessiveness. Protectiveness. regret. They weren’t just angry at Tiffany for what she had done to you, they were furious at themselves for pushing you away and leaving you alone and unprotected in New York.

You were his responsibility, his blood, and no one; not even Tiffany, was going to steal you away from him. He had always wanted to prove his superiority to the others, but now that wasn’t his focus. His attention was fixed solely on bringing you back to him, where you belonged.

Cass, who had been silently observing, nodded. Her face was unreadable, but the tension in her jaw told Tim that she, too, had been sensing something wrong for weeks.

Steph, ever the sharp observer, had her arms crossed over her chest, her usual sarcasm now tempered with a cold seriousness. “I knew she wasn’t perfect, but this? This is next-level crazy. Are you sure bout this Time?” She leaned forward, her voice suddenly harder.

Barbra was too shocked to say anything. This was not how today was supposed to go.

Alfred glanced toward Bruce. “Master Bruce,” he said softly, “the level of infiltration, this is something I never anticipated. We should have seen the signs.”

Bruce’s expression was steely. “We were too distracted, too willing to accept her presence as part of the family. We let our guard down.”

“That’s not just her fault,” Dick interjected. “We’ve all been too trusting. Especially with everything that happened with (y/n).” His voice hardened as he glanced at the screen again, eyes flicking to Tim. “What now? What do we do about it?”

Tim stepped forward, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I’ve already notified our allies. The information she’s passed is enough to give this organization an upper hand in Gotham, maybe beyond. She hasn't revealed our identities but she might soon. we can’t let her get away with it. She’s been playing us this whole time.”

Steph threw her hands up in exasperation. “So what, we just let her go? She’s been lying to us, manipulating us for months! ?”

Tim’s eyes were cold, calculating. “We’ll have to trap her. Use the information she’s already stolen to set her up. Once we confront her, we’ll make sure she doesn’t get away.”

Bruce’s fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw set in stone. He had failed [Y/N]—he had failed his child. The weight of that was too much for him to bear. “This ends now. We’re going to fix this.”

Ok yall since apparently 8 ppl think my work is absoulte shit and and SURE i knew how they felt this is pretty rushed and i feel like it sucks! anyway!! i hope at least some people enjoy <33 send in nice aks and questions and ideas pls. its so fun answering them. yall are mind readers and are so creative!! lmk if there's any typos bc I copy-pasted half of it from my notes app. yeah i did write half of this when i was supposed to be in class, and??? Next chapter Tiffany gets confronted, reader comes home, Batfam start groveling and regretting their actions, sort of on their way to yandere-ism and make reader move back to gotham to be closer to "family"

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being the non-mc significant other of lead guitarist! Sylus.

"The usual?" You have the owner a smile and a nod. "You're late, it's already the four and last set." The pub owner spoke, preparing your drink. "That's because Sylus doesn't know I'm here. It's a surprise." You wink at her.

Imagine engaging on a conversation with the owner, the one you are actually close with given the fact that Sylus and the boys were the one that introduced you to her. She was a lovely lady with a bit of mystery around her. Keeping yourself occupied as you wait for the band to come into the stage.

Imagine preoccupied with your catching up with the owner, you did not notice that they were already on the stage. It wasn't until you heard a familiar strumming of electric guitar that you knew very well who belongs to that made you pause mid sentence and look at the direction of the stage.

Imagine being excited, its been a while since you have seen the boys, let alone your lover perform, having your own lives to begin with, you were quite busy nowadays, so now is the perfect time for a surprise. You even picked up a very unique guitar pick on the way here, designed just for him. He have been complaining about his old ones, ones you are pretty sure he could easily replace, nonetheless it was as if he was giving you some sort of hint.

Imagine the way you look back at the owner, only to see some sort of complicated look on her face. Soon enough you knew why. "Honey, why you calling me so late?" You knew that voice. "It's kinda hard to talk right now." You knew that fucking voice. "Honey, why you crying, is everything okay?" It felt like the world stop, but it didn't. In fact, it continues. Painfully. "I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud"

Imagine, Sylus was never the best singer. There was a reason why he was the lead guitarist and not the vocalist. But the thing is, when he tries, when he tries hard enough. He really singings well. You have heared him, even laugh at him. But of boy did you love him singing. When he sings it was always full of emotion. Like unwritten stories yet to say and unfold. Like hidden feelings waiting to be heard. He only singing when it's important. He only sings for you. Or so you though.

"It's funny that you're calling me tonight." You watch silently, at the side the way he looks in the crowd. Then his eyes soften, "And, yes, I've dreamt of you too." You knew you shouldn't have followed his gaze, you don't want to get hurt nor confirm anything, but you still did. And boy, it fucking hurts. "And does he know you're talking to me? Will it start a fight?" There he was looking at her, MC. "No, I don't think she has a clue."

Imagine, you always wonder why they broke up. They were so perfect for each other. But then again, that was all in the past? Right? You knew Sylus loves you. You knew he does, but you also knew that she was there first. Before you there was her. How could you even compare yourself to her? She was well loved my everyone, heck, even you could tell how much of a lovable person she was. That's why you always wonder, why you? Still, Sylus always made you feel like you were enough. But you aren't really sure anymore.

"Well, my girl's in the next room, sometimes I wish she was you." She laughs, exchanging words with her friend as she sat there in front, eyes never looking away at Sylus. "I guess we never really moved on." Sylus was looking at her softly, he was looking at her with something in his eyes.

Imagine you found yourself back to all those years ago. Amongst the crowd as you watch the two stare at each other. You felt like a bystander as you did all those years ago. "It's really good to hear your voice saying my name, It sounds so sweet" When Sylus sings, it holds a meaning. It means this moment, this very moment is important for him. "Coming from the lips of an angel. Hearing those words, it makes me weak."

"I need to go." You do not know why you felt awfully calm, heart beating wildly at your chest makes you wonder why. "I'm s-" You just raise a hand and smile at her. Funny it felt numb when your heart literally have broken into tiny little pieces. "I'll come back to my tab later." "And I never wanna say goodbye."

Imagine the way you slowly make it out of the pub. Your heart weighting heavily on your chest. Taking every bit of you strength to prevent yourself from crying. Dragging your feet as you walk and took a deep breath to compose yourself. "But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful." You did not look back, you don't want to. And finally, you grab a hold of the door and push it. "With the lips of an angel." And so you were out the door.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: Sana all bakasyon na, sabaysabay tayong mag dusa.

[obito-in-disguise]

| You smack their butt |

Featuring: Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, Satoru Gojo, Nanami Kento, Kamo Choso and Ryomen Sukuna.

Geto Suguru

Crack!

The sound of your hand making contact with his behind was loud and obscene. His eyes widen as he surges forward from the force, hands grabbing the counter in front of him for support.

He whips his head in your direction, glaring at you with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation.

"What the fu-"

"What? so you can do it to me but I can't do it to you?" You snicker, the glimmer in your eye and the way you struggle to contain your laughter all too familiar.

Satoru.

Geto sighed, his hand moving to rub his sore behind. He glared at you once again, mentally noting to stop you from hanging out with the white-haired menace so frequently.

His idiocy was clearly rubbing off on you.

Fushiguro Toji

Toji watches in amusement as you recoil, shaking your hand around in pain.

"What the hell are your glutes made of? metal?!"

He only grinned ominously as he got up from his seat, setting down his chopsticks.

He stretched his arms over his head, joints cracking as he started to warm up.

"Toji...what are you doing..."

He looks up in mock confusion "isn't it my turn?"

"No!..." You squeal, running down the hall away from him. Toji's payback was always 10x what you inflicted.

"Don't start what you can't finish doll..." he chuckles before taking after you with inhumane speed.

Satoru Gojo

Satoru grins and shoves his ass out more, arching his back and making an obscene moaning sound.

"What the fuck is wrong with you" you laugh, half amused, half disturbed.

"Me? You're the one going around and smacking people's butts little lady. What's wrong with you?"

You watch him as he stands upright again, adjusting his shades.

You hum "Not everyone's, just yours."

"Ah...so you admit my derriere had a certain... appeal..." he grins, pulling his glasses down and smiling at you seductively.

You groan, getting up and heading out the room. This was a mistake, Satoru was obviously a weird freak.

He chuckles chasing after you. "Hey wait! What about round two?..."

Nanami Kento

Nanami's breath gets caught in his throat when he feels your hand land harshly on his behind. He stiffens, glaring into the distance in mortification.

You broke into laughter, covering your mouth before quickly moving to pull him into a hug. "Oh ken...I'm so sorry"

He glances down at you, watching how you're unable to catch your breath from laughing despite being 'sorry'.

His shoulders relaxed despite his embarrassment, and he slowly hugged you back.

He was used to your behaviour by now. Now he was too busy wondering how that delicate hand of yours packed such a punch.

"Yes very funny, I'll have to get you back for that though sweetheart."

Kamo Choso

Leave this poor baby alone omg.

Choso's eyes widen in horror when you smack his ass. He turns around slowly, looking at you in such terror that you can't help but burst out laughing.

He laughs along with you in fear "ha...ha ha...ha" before quickly dashing out the door. "I have to go."

"Choso wait!-" but he's long gone, now you feel worried. Choso was new to a lot of things and you've most likely just terrified him. You sigh, picking up your phone to call him, hoping he'll pick.

Yuji stares at Choso in confusion and growing anger as he explains that you suddenly hit him and that he doesn't know what to do. Yuji is confused because he's never known you to be the violent type.

"Wait, where’d she hit you, Cho?..." Choso flushes at Yuji's question, slowly pointing to his butt.

"Here..."

Yuji can't help himself when he bursts into laughter, here he was thinking you were abusing his brother but you were just being kinky.

Choso returns later that night much to your relief. You jump up, hugging him tightly and apologising profusely when he suddenly smiles and pulls away.

"Its ok lovie...I understand now"

You sigh in relief.

"You're a freak..." He smiles innocently at you, repeating Yuji's earlier words to him, unaware of the connotations.

"...You know what?...yeah"

Ryomen Sukuna

You were currently stuffed in the linen closet, a hand slapped over your mouth to prevent your whimpers of fear from escaping.

What on earth was happening you ask? Well you were hiding from Sukuna because you had the bright idea inspired by a cursed tiktok to smack him on the butt.

You could hear his psychotic laughs of delight as he stomped through the house, looking for you.

"Oh y/n...come out come out wherever you are..."

He most likely knew where you were but was enjoying this twisted game of chase.

Your suspicions were confirmed when he ripped the door to your hiding space open, lunging toward you.

You shrieked in terror as he grabbed you and hoisted you over his shoulder. Despite the fact that he just spent the last 5 minutes hunting you down like a maniac, Sukuna would never actually lay a finger on you...in a capacity to harm anyway.

He lands a playful retaliation smack as he stalks towards the bedroom with you still slung helplessly over his shoulder.

"My turn..."

Why're boys so jumpy when you smack their butts🙄 they be walking around all caked up too🙄🙄

Feel free to check out more of my Jujutsu Kaisen fics and other stories!

[dismalflo]

Hello love!! Im obsessed with your writing and was stoked to see your requests open🧡!

I love oblivious reader and was thinking poly!marauders x oblivious! reader who sees all their friends pairing off and establishing their careers and feels stuck in a rut. Like theyre in the same place they were last year, and doesn't realize theyre living in domestic bliss with the marauders (like they thought theyve been dating and reader is like what? we dont just kiss platonically?)

hi darling! thankyou for requesting! I loved this request. <3

poly!marauders x reader who kiss, but like... platonically right? ✩ 1.3k words

cw: oblivious reader, fluff, established-ish relationship

"Do you guys think it’s weird?" you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You're stretched out across the boys’ sofa, legs resting comfortably over Remus and Sirius' laps, while James sits on the floor in front of you, his gaze fixed on your face.

"Think what’s weird, angel?" James responds, a slight tilt of his head, his eyes soft with curiosity as he meets your gaze.

"That I'm always either at home or here," you say, your shoulders lifting in a nonchalant shrug, though there's a hint of vulnerability in your tone.

"Why would that be weird, poppet?" Sirius chimes in, his hand lazily settling on your shin, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

"Well… everyone else seems to have found their person or whatever," you mumble, trailing off. "And I’m just…"

The three of them exchange glances, their confusion palpable. But Remus looks the most puzzled. His brow furrows deeply, creating a crease on his forehead, and his lips pull down into a small frown. He studies you intently, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit.

"Right…" Remus says slowly, his voice soft but laced with concern. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

You sigh, sinking further into the cushions, the weight of your thoughts pulling you down. "I don’t know. I was just thinking about how Lily and Mary finally moved in together…" Your voice drifts off as you glance down at your hands, suddenly feeling small. "And then there’s me, sitting alone in my flat all the time."

Sirius lets out a soft chuckle, his tone playful, though there's an underlying warmth. "So, you want to move in, doll? You only had to ask."

Your heart leaps into your throat, panic creeping in as you sit up straight, jostling Remus in the process. You flash him an apologetic smile, before quickly turning to Sirius, your words tumbling out in a rush.

"No, of course not!" you say, horrified by the thought. "I don’t want to be in the way of your relationship any more than I already am."

In an instant, all three of them are sitting up straighter, confusion deepening on their faces. James’ mouth moves as if he's searching for the right words, Sirius starts fidgeting in his seat, and Remus just stares at you, his gaze blank.

 “What?” he asks quietly, almost as if he’s afraid he’s misheard.

A thick knot of unease settles in your chest, and for a moment, it feels as though you’ve somehow messed up—though you’re sure you haven’t.

"Well, you guys are all in a relationship, and I just... I just show up to hang out. A lot," you mutter, wringing your hands to calm yourself. "And I’m sure–"

You're cut off by a loud bark of laughter from Sirius, as though you've said something absurdly funny. The other two stare at him, clearly baffled. It takes him a while to compose himself, restarting his sentence several times before bursts of giggles cut him off again.

 "Babe," he snorts, wiping a tear from his eye, "I kiss you—we all kiss you. On the mouth. Regularly." he deadpans, eyes glinting mischievously.

"Yeah, but that’s like, as friends," you say, rolling your eyes. "It's not the same."

"Not the same?" James repeats, his voice low and full of disbelief, though there's a teasing edge to it. "Angel, we’ve been kissing you like this for how long now? And you really think it’s just... friendly?"

You blink, looking between the three of them, suddenly feeling like you’re the last person to catch on to an inside joke you’re apparently the punchline of. "Well, yeah?" you say, confusion painting your face. "It’s just... platonic. Friends kiss each other, right?"

The room falls into a stunned silence. Remus’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, Sirius is now grinning so wide it’s practically wicked, and James is rubbing the back of his neck as if he's trying to figure out how to explain the last year of your life to you in a way that won’t make him burst into laughter.

"Platonic?" Sirius says finally, voice laced with amusement, though his gaze softens, like he’s trying to gently break it to you. "You really think we’ve been... doing all this just as friends?"

You glance down at your lap, suddenly feeling more awkward than you ever thought possible, and bite your lip. "I mean, yeah. You guys are all... dating each other, and I don’t want to make it weird, okay?" You wave your hand in the air, as if trying to erase the thought of them being anything more than just your affectionate friends. 

At this, all three of them exchange another glance, a mix of bewilderment and something else. It’s like a weird kind of realization slowly dawns on them. Remus’s lips curl into a tiny, tender smile, while James looks like he's about to say something but holds back, probably knowing it’s going to be too much for you to handle all at once.

Finally, Remus speaks, his voice quiet and steady. “Dovey, we’ve been under the impression that we're all dating each other.” you nod to agree before he continues. “Including you.”

You blink. "What?"

The room falls into a quiet, heavy stillness. Remus’s words hang in the air like an impossible puzzle, pieces tumbling through your brain, but none of them quite fitting.

Sirius, who had been watching you closely, tilts his head in a way that’s almost endearing, like he’s waiting for you to finally catch up. "We’ve been dating you for months, sweetheart. Not just, like, the three of us. All of us. You included."

Oh. 

“Oh.” you look down at your hands in your lap, trying your best to process exactly what's going on. The boys, to their credit, give you a minute to process all of it. Then, Remus’ hand comes into your line of vision moving to hold one of your hands.

“Is that something you're comfortable with?” he asks, his voice calm and steady.

The response bursts from your lips before you can even think. “Y-yes, of course it is.” You stumble over your words, the nervousness catching you off guard.

James' grin widens, his gaze softening. He reaches up, his fingers brushing the side of your face as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the touch gentle and affectionate. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket.

Unable to resist, Sirius pulls you into a playful kiss on the cheek, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You let out a soft laugh, the weight in your chest lifting as the tension melts away.

“We’ll be clearer from now on, hmm?” Remus hums, his thumb tracing a soothing path along the back of your hand. He leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead, the gesture grounding you in the warmth of the moment.

Sirius tilts your chin up with a gentle finger, capturing your lips in a quick yet deeply tender kiss. He pulls back slightly, his gaze teasing as he presses a few more kisses to your lips. “Just making sure,” he says with a grin, his tone lighthearted but laced with affection. “Not platonic, not friendly.” He lets the words settle between you, making you laugh despite the fluttering in your chest.

“I think I’m starting to understand now,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean into the warmth of their affection, a contented smile tugging at your lips.