#I don’t usually talk about this on here but figured this might be helpful

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: happy weekend.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The scalloped collar of your cardigan sticks out like a sore thumb among the tube tops and spaghetti straps. You don’t know how anyone can stand to wear skirts that short with winter looming around the next corner. Even as the dorm is filled with the heat of bodies, an open window lets in a frigid gust that has you shivering. 

It might help if you detach yourself from the wall. That would mean wading into the bodies and god forbid, talking to strangers. You cross your arms and sway as you search the crowded kitchen. There’s more in the front room and the bedrooms. The place is filled to the brim with tipsy co-eds. 

You stand on your toes as you try to spot your host. You haven’t seen Peter since you got there. He disappeared to help with a spill and just never came back. You figured that’s how it would go. You’re boring and it is his party. He can’t just be hanging out with you all night. 

As the voices grow to a furor and your head begins to spin with the wall of bodies, your chest tightens. You sidle along the wall, ducking and dodging away from drunken guests, and find your way to the door. You let yourself into the hall as you shake up your puffer. 

You take a deep inhale and let it out slow. It’s already better. The music and buzz of chatter courses through the wall but it isn’t deafening. You’ll stay out there for a while then find Peter and tell him you’re too tired. 

You pull out your phone to distract yourself. You could try texting. No, he deserves a real goodbye. He invited your after all. 

The door opens again and a couple bursts out, leaving it open in their stead as they hit the wall not a foot away from you. They don’t notice you as they tangle each other up in a sloppy make out sessions. You make a face at them and quickly flit away. You have no other choice but to go back to the party. 

As you weave around the other guests, your mind detaches and wanders back to that dark night on campus. You didn’t really believe Bucky at first but then again, how well do you know Peter? It’s completely likely that he’s brought other girls around. But would it matter? 

Like you told Bucky, you’re just doing a project. 

You hit the wall suddenly as someone collides with you from the side. You let out and oomf and grip your phone tighter. You turn as a splash of cold liquid leaks down your sleeve. The drunken girl doesn’t even apologise as she laughs and follows her friend down to the kitchen. 

You shrink down even further. It’s overcrowded and too loud and too much. Not only that but you plainly don’t belong here. You live in an off-campus property with a shady landlord and questionable roommates; this place is a premium all-inclusive dorm. The type legacies and trust funders live in. 

You manage to squeeze past a group of boys in varsity jackets arguing loudly. You dip into Peter’s room and take a breath. It’s not as bad as the rest of the house but there’s some girls on the bed giggling and talking about things that make you want to blush. 

You search around. Not necessarily for an escape, you’re not desperate enough to hop out the window, but just for anywhere to hide and catch your breath. Literally. You switch your phone for your puffer and put it to your lips. 

You cross to the bathroom and knock. You turn your ear to it and listen for an answer. Nothing. You turn the handle and push inside. 

You stop short. Inside, Peter’s against the wall of the shower, pinned by MJ as she nibbles on his lower lip. You gasp in surprise and gape. Oh gosh. 

You stand dumbly in the door. Move, you idiot. Before you can flee, Peter’s eyes open and he sees you. He winces and grabs MJ’s shoulders, moving her away from him. 

“Hey,” he tries to move past her but she tugs him back. 

You back out, cheeks burning, and spin away without closing the door. It’s not like it’s any of your business, you shouldn’t care, but it’s awkward. You shouldn’t have seen that.  

It’s just like you suspected. You’re crashing Peter’s party. He didn’t actually want to invite you, he was just being nice. Like always. He’s always so nice and patient and you’re so pathetic. 

Maybe Bucky is right. Maybe you’re just another girl. Well, so what? You’re just friends. Just lab partners. You don’t care, do you? 

You barely avoid the elbow of one of the frats slurping on a red cup and another group of girls blindly force their way by without making room. You press against the wall as you try to get free of the bustling space.  

God, why did you even come? You knew this was a bad idea. This is the last time you do anything just to be polite. What good has that ever got you? 

You finally get to the door and stumble out into the hall. You catch yourself against the wall and look over at the couple still grossly sucking down each other’s tongues. You grimace and shake your puffer. You suck on it as you head down the hallway. 

“Hey, wait,” Peter calls your name as the door once more lets out the cacophony of voice, “look, what you saw--” 

“It’s fine, Peter,” you rasp, “really. Parties aren’t really my thing.” 

“No, it’s not fine. I don’t want you to think I just ditched you. It’s just MJ, she was all over me. Really, I was trying to get away--” 

“Peter,” you gulp, “we’re just friends,” you turn to face him and he nearly trips as he skids to a halt. “I don’t care.” 

You smile, or try to. You might be lying. You’re not really sure yourself. 

“You... don’t?” He frowns. 

You stare at him. “Well, should I?” You laugh nervously. 

He deflates and his brows furrow, “I mean... I do. I really care about you and... I was telling MJ and she just jumped on me. She has this thing for taken guys. Kinda why we didn’t work out. But uh, I guess I messed it all up. I invited you because I... well, yeah, I guess it doesn’t matter now.” His shoulders slump and his eyes glisten, “so, just go. I messed it all up. Not like you could ever like me back, right?” 

You stare at him. You open your mouth then shut it. Like him? Like really like him? If that’s what he means... do you? 

💜💜💜

From this point, there will be two paths; both Bucky and Peter will appear in both but each will favour one or the other as end goal. 

[nikosheba]

A couple job interview hacks from someone who has to give a job interview every single goddamn day: (disclaimer: this goes for my process and my company’s process, other companies and industries might be different)

1. There are a few things I check and a few questions I ask literally just to figure out if you can play the game and get along with others in a professional setting. Part of the job I interview for is talking to people, and we work in teams. So if you can’t “play the game” a tiny bit, it’s not going to work. Playing the game includes:

- Why do you want to work here? (just prove that you googled the company, tell me like 1 thing about us, I just want to know that you did SOME kind of preparation for this interview)

- Are you wearing professional clothing? I don’t need a suit just don’t show up in a ratty t-shirt and sweatpants.

- Are you able to speak respectfully and without dropping f-bombs all the time? Not because I’m offended but because I don’t want to be reported to HR if you wind up on my team.

- Can you follow simple directions in an interview?

2. Stop telling me protected information. I don’t want to know about what drugs or medications you’re on, I don’t want to know about you being sick, I don’t want to know if you’re planning to have children soon, I don’t want to know anything about your personal life other than “can you do the job?” 

3. When we ask, “What questions do you have for me?” here are my favorites I’ve heard: - What does the day-to-day look like for a member of your team?

- If one of your team members was not performing up to his usual standard, what steps would you take to correct that?

- What can I start doing now to accelerate my learning process in this job?

- What are some reservations you have about me as a candidate? (be ready for this emotionally....it will REALLY help you in the future, and I’ve had people save themselves from a No after this, but can be hard to hear)

- In your opinion, what skills and qualities does the ideal candidate for this job possess?

- What advice would you give to a new hire in this position/someone who wanted to break into this industry, as someone who has worked here for a while?

Those are just my tips off-the-cuff. I work in sales in marketing/SAAS, so these can be very different depending on the industry, but I wish the people I interview could read this before they show up. 

[maikaartwork]

Artists, let’s talk about Instagram commission scammers

There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.

How they begin

Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.

What to look out for:

Their profiles will either be private, empty, or filled with very generic stuff, dating at most a few years back.

Their language will be very simple, rushed or downright bad. They might use weird emojis that nobody ever uses. They will probably send impatient “??” when you don’t answer immediately. They’re in a crunch - lots of people to scam, you know. 

They’ll give you absolutely no guidelines. No hints on style, contents aside from (usually) the pet and often a name written on the artwork, no theme. Anything you draw will be perfect. Full artistic freedom. In reality they don’t really care for this part.

They’ll offer you a ridiculous amount of money. Usually 100 or 300 USD (EDIT: I know it might not be a lot for some work. What I mean here - way higher than your asking price, 100 and 300 are standard rates they give). They’ll often put in a phrase like “I am willing to compensate you financially” and “I want the best you can draw”, peppered with vague praise. It will most likely sound way too good to be true. That’s because it is.

Where the scam actually happens

If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible. 

Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.

A few things can happen here:

They overpay you and ask for the difference to be wired back. Usually it will go to a different account and you’ll never see that money again. 

They’ll overpay you “for shipping costs” and ask you to forward the difference to their shipping company. Just like before, you’ll never see that money again.

The actual owner of the account (yes, they most likely use stolen accounts to wire from) will realize there’s been something sketchy going on and request a refund via official channels. Your account will be charged with fees and/or you get in trouble for fraudulent transactions. 

You will transfer the money from your PayPal credit to your bank account and they will make a shitstorm when they want their money back, making your life a living hell. They will call you a scammer, a thief, make wild claims, wearing you down and forcing you into wiring money “back” - aka to their final destination account. 

Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.

You can find more info on that method HERE.

What to do when you encounter a scammer:

Ask the right questions: inquire about the style, which artwork of yours they like, as much details as you can. They won’t supply you with any good answers.

Don’t let the rush of the exchange, their praise and the promise of insanely good money to get to you. That’s how they operate, that’s how they make you lose vigilance. 

Don’t engage them. As soon as you realize it might be a scam, block them. The sense of urgency they create with their rushed exchange, and pressure they put on you will sooner or later get to you and you might do something that you’ll regret later.

Never wire money to anyone. Never give out your personal data. Never provide your email, name, address or credit card info. 

Don’t be deceived by receiving a payment, if you somehow agree to go along with it. Just because it’s there now doesn’t mean it can’t be withdrawn. 

Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it. 

Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!

Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.

[cutielando]

sleepy | l.n.

synopsis: in which you always fall asleep everywhere

my masterlist

You had a very good relationship with your sleep schedule. 

That was primarily due to the fact that with Lando’s schedule, having to fly all around the world almost every week, the constant time zone changes. You had to get some sleep any free chance you would get, no matter where.

Which is something Lando, his team and the fans around the world have grown to love. Every time the fans would see you in the paddock, they knew that pictures of you sleeping in a clearly uncomfortable position somewhere in the McLaren garage would surf the internet.

It was everyone’s favorite moment from the whole weekend.

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you again!” Zak greeted you once you had arrived in the garage with Lando for his home race.

“I couldn’t possibly miss this one” you said, hugging the older man and then stepping back to stand beside Lando again.

“We’re very glad to have you here. How’d you sleep last night?” he jokingly asked, making Lando chuckle from beside you.

It became a cute joke within the team, seeing as you managed to fall asleep every time, no matter how well rested you might be.

“Pretty good, but I can’t guarantee that you won’t find me passed out again” you laughed, knowing that it didn’t really bother anyone truly.

Lando talked for a little bit with Zak before leading you to his driver’s room.

When you opened the door, you noticed a new blanket and pillow that hadn’t been there before, which made you look back at Lando, raising your eyebrow.

“Where did those come from?” you asked as you picked up the blanket, immediately savoring the fluffy feeling against your fingers.

“Figured I would buy you a blanket for when you want to nap God knows where, just to make sure you’re comfy and won’t get cold” he explained, shrugging like it was not a big deal.

You pouted, the small gesture warming your heart.

“That’s so sweet, thank you baby” you put down the blanket and gave Lando a hug, pecking his lips before you let him get ready.

You walked around the garage silently, not wanting to get in anybody’s way. The race was about to begin and there was a lot going around, the place being as noisy as a garage could get before lights out.

And yet still, you find your eyes dropping down, sleep slowly threatening to blindside you and make you fall asleep.

But you had vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t fall asleep here, not at Silverstone.

It would prove to be harder than you had originally thought.

“Hey” Lando found you just moments before he had to get in the car, clutching his helmet in his hands.

“Be safe, okay? Come back to me in one piece and don’t forget to have fun” you said, helping fix the balaclava on his head.

He nodded, puckering his lips for his good luck kiss. Once you gave it to him, he put on his helmet and disappeared in the car, leaving you alone with his engineers.

“Hey Y/N” Jon said as he came to stand beside you, watching Lando now driving away from the garage.

“Hey Jon, how are you?” you tried to pay attention to everything he was telling you, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Jon chuckled once he saw how much you were struggling not to pass out.

You nodded. “I did, it’s just something about the atmosphere at the races that lulls me right back to sleep. But I promised myself I wouldn’t fall asleep at this one” you explained, stifling a yawn.

Jon nodded, making small talk for a little longer.

Once the race itself started, you were bundled up in your new blanket from Lando, a pair of McLaren earphones on your ears and sitting beside Cisca, Lando’s mother.

You were trying very hard to follow the race, but the tiredness was creeping in more and more, until you found yourself resting your head against the wall behind you, letting yourself drift to a deep sleep.

When Cisca noticed that you were more quiet than usual, she looked over and saw how peacefully you were sleeping, albeit with your head in a very uncomfortable position.

Smiling fondly to herself, she slowly took your head in her hands and moved you so you were laying with your head in her lap. She absentmindedly weaved her hands through your hair while intently watching the race on the screens.

It wasn’t until the last 3 laps that you woke up, silently kicking yourself for falling asleep.

You looked confusedly around you, noticing Cisca above you smiling.

“Good morning, sunshine. Just in time for the last laps of the race” she explained, helping you settle back into a sitting position.

“I was out for that long?” you moaned, cursing to yourself that you missed the entire race because you were sleeping.

“Don’t beat yourself up dear, the important thing is that you’re here with us” she comforted you, rubbing your arm while averting her attention back to the screen.

You watched the screen intently, cheering and screaming once Lando had crossed the checkered flag in P2.

Both Cisca and Adam gave you tight hugs, congratulating the entire team alongside you.

You walked out of the garage with the two of them, your blanket still wrapped tightly around you as you walked towards the podium, your hands linked with Lando’s mother.

Lando parked his car in front of the number 2 sign, jumping out of the car and running over to where you were waiting for him by the barriers.

“I’m so proud of you!” you squealed as soon as he was within arms length, hugging him close.

“Did you sleep through the race?” he asked as he pulled up his visor, his eyes twinkling.

You smiled sheepishly, making him laugh loudly inside of his helmet.

“My sleepy girl” he mumbled, giving you a squeeze before moving on to hug his parents.

The next day after the race, photos of you sleeping in Cisca’s lap circulated on the internet, making you and your boyfriend laugh. 

Laugh because your habit had turned your relationship into a three-person relationship.

You, Lando and your sleep.

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[bahablastplz]

Best Friend: Han x Reader

Thinking about how Jisung is always the reader's best friend in fics, which made me think of best friend to lovers Jisung x Reader.... Content: Smut, Fluff, A little Angst Warnings: Oral sex, Unprotected sex, P in V sex, Dirty talk, Use of the word 'slut,' Hair-pulling, Maybe some praise kink if you squint WC: 3400

“Which dress should I wear?” You question. You hold up two dresses in the mirror and place each one in front of your body, eyebrows furrowing as you imagine each one on your figure. You look at your best friend through the mirror, gauging his reaction. 

“Black,” says Han, though he doesn’t look up from his phone. 

“Jisung!” Your sharp tone makes his eyes shoot open wide, a surprised look on his face that you’ve gotten to know well over the years–the one he makes when he knows he’s gotten himself into trouble. “You didn’t even look at the options!” You scoffed at him incredulously. 

“I didn’t have to,” he says snidely. “The red one makes you look sexier, the black one makes you look… I don’t know, sleek?” “Sleek,” you say with a laugh. “Okay, so I should wear the red one!” As you go to hang up the black dress in your closet, your friend appears from behind you. 

“On a first date? You’re not trying to seduce him just yet,” he jokes. 

“But I wanted to look sexy,” you pout. “Plus, you never know–” Before you can finish your sentence, Han snatches the red dress from your grasp and runs out of the room at full speed. Mouth agape, you run after him giggling. Jisung makes some screeching noises as he runs around and he even hops onto the couch, standing above you. You take a moment to keel over, laughing at him while catching your breath. This is something your friend has always been good at doing; making you laugh. Especially on a night like tonight in which you were more nervous than you cared to admit, Jisung knows exactly how to push your buttons and have tears forming in your eyes from his humor. 

“Give me that, please, Sungie. You’re gonna mess it up!” You fake glare at him and cross your arms, watching as he holds the dress up over his head. 

“I can’t believe you’re ditching movie night for some guy,” he says. “Movie night, it’s an annual tradition… to just abandon it… It’s heresy! Heresy I say!” You shake your head at the man before sitting next to him on the couch. He sits as well, abandoning his ridiculous stance, and takes a deep breath next to you. 

You lean your head against his shoulder before sighing. “It’s not just any guy,” you say softly. “Seungmin seems special. I think he really likes me.” Jisung ignores the panging in his chest. The fact of the matter is, Han Jisung is undeniably, uncontrollably in love with you. And normally, he has absolutely no problem with that fact, especially with hiding it from you. But on this night in particular, there is one issue: You are going on a date. 

You’d been on dates before, of course. But not since Jisung has identified his attraction and feelings toward you. And what could he say? That he was jealous, that he wanted you to stay here and get with him instead? Of course not! 

“I… I know, jagiya. Um, you’re going to have a good time,” he replies into your hair. “And hopefully get laid. You’ve been so tense lately.” God, why did he say that? He didn’t want to think about that, especially with a guy that wasn’t him!

You laugh and push his shoulder lightly. “God, I hope so. I just need to be fucked like a slut, you know?” You grin at him widely, but he feels like he might get sick at your words. Usually, the two of you have no problem joking with one another, and yes, maybe 50% of the time your jokes are rather explicit, but Jisung can’t help but run a hand through his hair and take a deep breath at your words. 

“Don’t say that,” he groans, albeit with a weak smile. 

“Ughhh, but Sungie…” you laugh. “You know I’m joking but it’s been so long… I do want to be folded in half like a pancake–” 

He lets out a nervous laugh and holds his hand over your mouth. 

“Seriously, gross,” he says. You lick his hand. In disgust, he gets up, handing you the red dress in the process. 

“Thank you!” you preen at your friend and jump up, running to your room to get ready for your date. He follows to watch and lay on your bed. 

You look stunning in the red dress, of course. He knew you would. But coupled with the lipstick, the hair, your perfume… it makes his heart pang and sit heavily in his chest. 

You are in a rush. As you say goodbye to your friend and start to lock up, he pulls you into a tight hug, 

“Sung… You’re not seriously mad about movie night, right?” You laugh against him but feel yourself growing red at the proximity. You can smell his shampoo from here, and his embrace is so tight, his arms wrapped around you so tight that it makes you gulp. You push him away slightly just so you can look in his eyes. 

“No, of course not,” he says, but he’s slightly pouting. You would’ve missed it if you weren’t paying close attention to his face, and if you didn’t know each of his expressions like the back of your hand. “Just… I hope you have a good time tonight. Text me if you need me, kay? And turn your location on… just in case he’s really a serial murderer or something.” 

“Alright, you got it. Thanks so much for coming over,” you say as you lock your front door, allowing your friend to leave the house with you. 

“You never have to thank me,” he reminds you.  ***

The date went alright.  Seungmin was a sweet guy, he really was. He took you out to a nice restaurant and he flirted with you,  he made you smile, and he was just the epitome of a gentleman. But, you realized there just wasn’t a spark. Something was missing. There were no butterflies, no rush from your heart to let you know he was the one. And you told him as much at the end of the night. There were no hard feelings, really. 

So why do you still feel so damn emotional? 

As you step into your house, you pull out your phone and you’re texting Jisung before you even realize what you’re doing. 

Y/N:  Can you come over? 

Sungie: Already OMW! 

You’re laying on the couch, sulking emotionally. You half debate cracking open a bottle of wine to drink your sorrows away but decide against it. 

Instead, you wipe away small tears and hold yourself back from sniffling. Jisung bursts in your front door, looking around frantically. The sight makes you hiccup laugh through your tears and he’s running to you, kneeling in front of you on the couch. 

“Fuck, jagiya, are you okay? Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him, I’ll really kill him, I promise… Well, maybe not kill him, but I swear I’ll really hurt him…” He starts rambling and it makes you laugh. 

“I’m fine, Ji. He didn’t hurt me… The date actually went really well.”

“Oh,” he says, letting out a sigh of relief. He looks into your eyes. “Shit. You scared me. What happened?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Bull shit, or you wouldn’t have called me over,” he says. He puts his hands on your knees and his head on the couch, looking up at you. 

“Just… we didn’t click. He was so sweet. He still paid after I told him I didn’t want another date, which was really nice… Is there something wrong with me?” You ask. You look into his eyes and he swears he could split in half, your teary doe eyes making him want to burst into tears himself. 

“Of course not, why would there be?” He questions. 

“Just… It’s been over a year since I’ve had sex, even longer since I’ve dated someone… I finally get to go on a date with a nice, hot guy, and I completely blow it. What if that was my last shot? What if nobody wants me?” You wipe a tear away. 

“Don’t say that,” he says sharply. Your eyes widen. In all the time that you’ve known Jisung, his demeanor has always been relaxed, joking, and somewhat aloof. So for him to be so blunt and sharp with you? It makes you tense up. “That isn’t true.” 

“How do you even know that?” You cross your arms at him and shoot him what you hope is a nasty glare but you know it probably comes across as much more pathetic.

“Because I love you.” 

You scoff at him. “Han Jisung, if this is some sort of sick joke you better count your days, because that’s a really fucking low blow after tonight.” 

“Y/N, I would never joke about this. I love you much more than you could ever realize. I have loved you for so long… It hurts. I have wanted to tell you for so long, but I was so scared of messing up our friendship. There’s nothing more in this world that I love more than your smile, more than making you laugh.” He pauses, gauging your reaction. For once, he truly doesn’t know what you’re thinking and it scares him, but he continues anyway. “Just… The thought of you going out on that date tonight, it made me so sick. The thought of you kissing someone that wasn’t me… God, you didn’t kiss him, did you? Argh, that would make me so sad… But I just… I don’t even know the guy and I couldn’t help but think that I would be better for you. That he wouldn’t be able to make you laugh, and he wouldn’t know how absolutely ridiculous you look when you dance while you’re drunk, and he wouldn’t know that Saturday nights are our movie nights, and he wouldn’t know that you say your favorite color is lavender, but it’s actually–” 

You cut off the man by lunging forwards onto the floor and pressing your lips into his. The kiss is searing and all-consuming and he pulls you forward until you’re in his lap. As you straddle him he holds your head in his hands, brushing hair behind your ears as he brings you further into him. You’re both emotional and out of breath but so desperate to have things keep moving forward that when you open your mouth to deepen the kiss, it’s all tongue and teeth and heavy breathing but holds more feeling behind it than any kiss you’ve ever had. 

“Jisung…” you whisper, pulling away. He looks at you with wide eyes, pupils blown out. He’s panting and his hands take place on your arms, holding you in place as he searches deep into your eyes. 

He pulls you into a deep embrace reminiscent of the one you shared just this afternoon. 

“I feel the same… I think the reason why my date went so poorly is because he wasn’t you.” You hear his breath hitch and he pulls you impossibly closer, looking deep into your eyes before pulling you into another kiss. This one is more gentle and chaste but fills you with desire nonetheless. “I didn’t kiss him, by the way,” you say. Your statement puts Jisung at ease. “You’re the only one I want to kiss, Sung.” 

You kiss him again but start to trail down his neck, leaving wet open kisses behind. Jisung is a panting, moaning mess beneath you, and his noises encourage you to go further. You lift his shirt up over his head and press your crotch into his, relishing in the sounds he makes as you kiss his chest, his collarbones, and his abdomen before you feel a hand weave itself into your hair, pulling you harshly. 

“Still want to be fucked like a slut?” His words make you gasp. 

“Ji, I was joking,” you say, but his hand pulls tighter on your hair, revealing your neck to him; wet open-mouthed kisses and tongue pressing against your neck releases a loud, nasty moan from your lips. 

“You can’t lie to me, baby,” he says into your skin. “We’ve joked about it too many times for it to really be a joke. Can you answer me? Do you want to be fucked like a slut? Say the word and we can stop.” He lifts up your dress and throws it off of your head almost comedically, and it would have made you laugh if you weren’t now on complete display for the man. 

“Yes… please.” That was all the word Jisung needed to go forth and absolutely ravish you, taking your body as if it were his own. He sucks small marks against your skin, guiding your hips to rock into his own in steady movements. Meanwhile, he unclasps your bra, discarding it to God knows where, paying full attention to your now exposed skin. 

“So beautiful… God you’re making me feel so good, grinding against me so good baby… I’ll cum soon, I’ll cum in my pants if we don’t stop,” he rambles. He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, paying it full attention while teasing the other with his thumb. Your head falls back from the pleasure, from the enticing man underneath you that you’ve known for so long, for the man who’s cologne has been engraved in your brain for years but only now does it make you feel needier with lust and desire when it floods your senses. Suddenly, he lifts you off of his hips with alarming force, placing you to sit on the couch while he remains underneath you on the floor. 

“Please, can I eat you out? Let me make you feel good baby, please,” he begs, rubbing small circles onto your thigh. You nod your head at him, lifting your hips and your underwear is removed in an instant. 

He dives forward, wasting no time before connecting his mouth to your glistening core. You moan loudly at the contact and his arms reach forward to pull you closer to his face. His wide eyes meet yours and he grins, absolutely deriving his own pleasure off of yours and the way you squirm beneath him. He eats you out in a way that is similar to his personality; it is messy, it is eager, and it is all-consuming. His tongue flicks desperately against your clit and you buck your hips up into his face but he holds you down easily, forcing you to take what he gives. His tongue switches between teasing your entrance and giving your clit his direct and undivided attention, and the pace makes you feel dizzy. 

“Please, please,” you say, and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for. He changes the angle suddenly, pressing your legs up to your head so that you’re completely at his mercy. He spits right onto your aching hole, the act crude but making you moan nonetheless. Immediately he dives back in, holding your legs as he sucks and flicks at your clit until you’re shaking from overstimulation.

You try to warn him but it’s too late, you’re thrown over the edge with a loud sigh. He guides you through it, lapping at you languidly with his tongue as you pulse against him from aftershocks. He releases from you and the lack of contact makes you feel antsy, immediately wanting more, immediately craving that contact again. 

“Jisung,” you breathe out. “Again… want to feel you again, please. Need you… touching me, please.” He wastes no time before pulling his pants and boxers down in one swift blow and you moan at the sight of him naked before you. You reach to touch him and stroke his cock but he stops you, guiding you to your feet. Your legs tremble but he holds you steady. 

“What are you–” you begin to ask, but he shushes you, grabbing your hips and bending you over the side of the couch. He pushes your back down so that you’re arching for him, ass pressed up in the air. 

“M just giving you what I promised,” he says, rubbing your back almost soothingly as he teases your entrance with his cock. Every time he makes contact you hiss and try to press back into him, but to no avail. “You made me wait this long to let me fuck your pretty pussy babe, should I make you wait too?” 

His words make you moan out, and you’re babbling before you even realize it. “Jisung, Sungie, no please… Please Ji… I need you so bad… Please let me… Please don’t make me wait… Fuck… Please…”

His laugh is airy, as if you’ve knocked all of the air out of his lungs. You tilt your head back, trying desperately to see his face, and his expression is exactly how you imagined it; desperate, incredulous, lips parted open in a small ‘o’ shape. That’s the last thing you see before he presses his full length into you and your eyes screw shut from pleasure. 

He immediately groans out, trying to stay still but desperately rocking his hips into you deeper, right against your g-spot which makes your eyes roll back and tighten around him. In turn, he begins sharply rutting right against your hips, shallow but deep. 

“Fuck, fuck, jagiya. You feel… so good. Just like how I imagined,” he starts. “Your pussy… God, it was made for me to fuck… For me to fuck you dumb.” He is stuttering and rambling but you don’t even care, his words, soft moans, and pants making you feel incredibly needier. He reaches forward and pulls you up against him, grabbing your head and meeting your lips into a blinding and messy kiss as he fucks you. It makes your head reel and his hands find your tits and grab them hard for just a second as he finds his pace but the overstimulation makes you go stupid with desire. 

Just as fast, he pushes you into the couch again. He grabs both of your wrists from behind and pulls them into his hand, using the momentum as a way to let himself fuck into you harder and deeper. You’re crying now, tears flowing from your face from pleasure and letting out noises that you didn’t know you could make, loud ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ from every thrust of his hips into yours. 

“Please tell me you’re close, baby,” he says shakily. “Fuck, I don’t think I can last much longer.” His words make you close your legs together as he fucks you, the friction sending you even closer to the edge. 

“So close, Sung, please.” Your words barely escape your mouth but you know he hears you, as his hands take place on your hips now, his death grip searing as he pulls you all the way on and off of his length, slamming into you at full force. 

“Cumming,” you say, and you can only warn him the one time before you’re spasming and convulsing all over his cock, his soft and gentle praise guiding you through it in complete contrast to his harsh actions against your body. You’re still pulsing with aftershocks as he groans, pulling out of you and releasing all over your back in hot spurts. As the two of you catch your breath, he immediately pulls you into a kiss again, gentle yet passionate. 

“I love you so much,” he says. “Wanted to do that for so long. Wanted you. Wanted you to be mine and wanted you to know how much I love you.” His eyes meet yours, searching, waiting for a response. 

“I love you too, Jisung.” He smiles and his eyes close, relishing in the fact that finally, you are now undeniably his. 

He cleans you up and guides you into your room, pulling you into his arms. Your head rests on his chest and your limbs are an intertwined mess, unable to differentiate where you start and Jisung ends. That night you watch your movie, the way it was destined to be all along. Jisung’s jokes make you laugh until you cry, and this time he is able to tell you that making you smile is one of the greatest pleasures he has ever been graced with in his life, and he tells you this with a kiss pressed against your mouth. ***

Masterlist Recs

[babysukiii]

regina’s puppy (4)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: soft!regina, fluff, pining, LOTS of pining, regina is falling for the reader hard, reader is a gay mess, regina is a lesbian who’s terrible at emotions. (don’t get too used to fluffy chapters this is the calm before the storm…)

(this part 4 of the series, read part 3 here)

you end up replaying gretchen’s party in your head over the weekend. you can’t seem to stop thinking about the look in regina’s eyes when she saw you and dani talking. it was the angriest you’ve ever seen her, and then afterwards she just pretended as if it never occurred. yet it was engraved into your brain like a branded memory; permanently there for you to think about at night.

you couldn’t figure out why regina was so enthralled by you… if you could call it that. as you started to become more aware of what dani said on friday night, how you were regina’s “puppy”… it caused you to overthink a few things. this entire time you thought regina was getting closer to you all of a sudden because she enjoyed your company. now you feared it was because she just wanted some new pet to play with.

you and regina had developed a routine on the nights you couldn’t convince your parents to allow you to stay the night. she’d call you, and you’d talk for hours; sometimes till you fell asleep. though saturday night you used a flimsy excuse of being at your grandmas house; she new it was a lie. then on sunday, you barely texted her at all. she knew something was up right away, and she wasn’t going to tolerate it.

as soon as you walked out of your house to catch the bus on monday, regina’s jeep was parked on the side of the street. your heart immediately began to flutter as it usually does whenever you see the blonde. she rolls down her window, and you catch a glimpse of how gorgeous she looks. your legs have a mind of their own as you begin to walk up to her car, furrowing your brows. “don’t you usually pick up gretchen on mondays?” you question, and she shrugs, flashing you that colgate smile that makes your knees week. “she can take the bus. get in, loser.” she taunts you.

you can’t help but sheepishly smile as you get into her passenger side. “she’s gonna freak out. she was texting the group chat all weekend about how her parents found puke in her grandmas ashes.” you giggle, and regina lets out this strained laugh that isn’t her usual one. “yeah, i tried calling you but you were busy.” she grumbles, and you tense up slightly. “and you were dodging my texts. what gives?” she asks, as she begins to drive. she doesn’t turn on music like she usually does, only showing you how serious she is.

“i just couldn’t stop thinking about what happened on friday.” you start cautiously, and she frowns, an agitated expression etching itself onto her features. “seriously? that fucking bitch deserved a slap, y/n.” she defends herself, and you flash her a look. “i’m not talking about the slap… i mean, i’m actually surprised you didn’t do worse.” you joke softly, trying to lighten the heavy tension in the air. regina lets out this tiny exhale; if it weren’t so quiet in the car you may not have heard it. that’s when you take in how wrought up she seems, as if she’s been stressing over something.

surely she wasn’t stressing over you avoiding her for two days… right?

“then what is it? why are you being weird?” she questions demandingly, sounding genuinely upset. “because i can’t stop thinking about what dani said!” you huff out, sounding the most frustrated she’s ever heard. upon seeing your exasperated demeanor, she calms down slightly. realizing something was actually wrong. “y/n, everything that loser said was bullshit—“ she starts, but you cut her off, “she was right though! i am such a different person now and it’s only been a month.” you counterpoint, causing her to bite her tongue.

regina hates to be interrupted, but she really enjoys you and whatever it is that’s budding between the two of you. she doesn’t want to lose it because some stupid jock said something at a lame party she only went to in order to save face. “and you don’t like who you are? you don’t enjoy the way we’ve been hanging out all the time?” regina questions, you shake your head. “i love spending time with you… but dani called me your puppy, gina. is that seriously what people think of me now? is that what you think of me?” you ask persistently.

the blonde shakes her head rapidly in disagreement. “i don’t think of you as my puppy… just because you have the qualities of one, doesn’t mean i consider you one.” she tells you, and you frown. “how do i have the qualities of a puppy?” you can’t help but ask, and she shrugs. “loyal, obedient, always happy to see me.” she flashes you that infamous smile, and you roll your eyes in response. “y/n, dani is just jealous because you’re hanging out with me and not her. she only said that to get under your skin, and clearly it worked.” she states, and your silence causes her to reach for your hand.

her touch sends shockwaves throughout your body. “don’t be angry at me over some comment a dumb jock made because you wouldn’t go into a basement with her.” she practically pleads, and you know it’s the closest thing you’ll get to any sort of comfort from regina george. “besides, don’t you like hanging out with me?” she questions, and you throw her a look that says “are you serious”. “of course i like hanging out with you, you’re like my favorite person.” you admit, and regina feels something tugging on the heartstrings she didn’t even realize she had.

“then stop listening to what anyone else says.” this sounds more like a command, so you find yourself nodding dumbly. your brain always goes fuzzy whenever she tells you to do something, and the only coherent thought is to do whatever regina says. god, maybe dani was right, you are regina’s puppy.

you walk into school with the blonde by your side. you’ve adjusted to the gawking students that ogle regina as she walks by. you really don’t blame them; ever since freshman year you’ve been one of those people who gaze at her in admiration. until now. regina’s strange interest in you hasn’t gone unnoticed by anyone else, and you’re now beginning to adjust to all the attention.

“please never make me take the bus again!” gretchen exclaims as she storms up to the both of you, and regina rolls her eyes. “i had to pick up y/n today. you’ll survive.” the blonde sounds unamused, causing gretchen to huff in response. “i already said i’m sorry, even though it’s totally not my fault i have a totally hot basement that makes people horny.” she says, and regina narrows her eyes at her friend. “we discussed this already. i’m going to be taking y/n to school from now on.” her tone is up for no disagreements, and you shake your head in protest. “it’s okay, gina. i don’t mind taking the bus—“ you start, but she cuts you off.

“i like picking you up. hush.” she shushes you quickly, and you try to ignore the way the back of your neck heats up. gretchen pouts, but doesn’t argue any further. as the three of you approach regina’s locker, karen bounces up to you guys. “did you guys here about the new girl who’s transferring here tomorrow?” she asks curiously, and regina quirks a brow in clear interest. “a new girl? why wasn’t i informed about this?” she questions, and karen shrugs. “i heard it from arnold who says he heard it from elizabeth g.” she explains, and the blonde presses her lips together tightly.

“a new student nobody bothered to tell me about… huh.” she says as she thinks about it for a moment. “she better be more interesting than the last new student we had. jeanette renolds is such a bore.” the blonde adds simply, and that’s that. the topic of the “new student” doesn’t come up again. at least not in front of you.

during lunch gretchen begins to talk about how close homecoming is, regardless of it being 3 months away. “you’re running for homecoming queen again, right regina?” gretchen asks, and regina glowers. “of course i am. why wouldn’t i?” she responds with a question, before looking at you. “are you going to vote for me to be homecoming queen?” she asks, her voice flirty and sweet. your cheeks flush under her gaze, “of course, i voted for you last year too, gina.” you confess, and this elicits a large smile from your favorite blonde.

“everyone voted for regina last year, and this year it’s not gonna change. i don’t even think you need a campaign manager this time either.” gretchen says, and regina rolls her eyes. “i am my own campaign manager, idiot. but i have y/n to help me with more stuff this year, like what color scheme i should go with.” she says suggestively, as her gaze flickers over to you. your eyes widen in slight panic, “what?? i can’t pick your color scheme! i’m terrible at picking out stuff. i mean, you chose my entire wardrobe.” you remind her, and she shrugs.

“don’t care. your opinion is the only one that matters to me, so we’ll start looking at dresses next week. for you too.” her tone is left for no debates, and you don’t really pay attention to anything past “your opinion is the only one that matters to me”. the heat rises to your neck and face, and regina’s grin deepens. “are we still hanging out after school, or are you bailing on me today again?” regina pointedly asks you, and you nod eagerly. “we can try that new pretzel place—“ regina cuts you off, “you’re so cute, i can’t do too many carbs but i’ll get you pretzels on the way to where i’m taking you.” she declares, and your eyebrows perk up.

before you can question the blonde the bell rings, “i’m not doing anything after school—“ gretchen tries to say but regina cuts her off. “i didn’t ask, and you weren’t invited.” she hisses, and gretchen huffs. nobody dares question why regina is so adamant on spending time with you; especially alone time. honestly, you’re a bit scared to ask her as well. not because you think she’ll be mean to you, regina is never mean to you, no, you’re just afraid you may mess up whatever this is.

you’re ashamed to admit regina has become the center of your universe. she takes up all the spaces in your brain, and you can’t even go an hour without thinking about her. you and regina end up hanging out after school as promised. you end up sitting in the passenger seat of her car, a medium sized lemonade in your hand along with your mini pretzel bites. regina steals glances at you every now and then; you contentedly hum along to the song that’s playing as you curiously gaze out the window.

the only thought that keeps circling her mind is how much she likes this. just being around you.

“are we going on a hike?” you ask your hundredth question, and regina groans. “no, i hate walking.” she reminds you, and you have this adorable expression on your face as you think about other possibilities. the further from town you get, the further your mind wanders. “the beach?” you ask, and she shakes her head. “nope; i hate getting sand in my shoes and car.” she deadpans, and you go quiet for another few seconds. “we’ve been driving for almost forty minutes… what time are we coming back?” you inquire, and regina rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance.

“you already wanna leave me?” she responds with a question of her own, and you shake your head rapidly. “no! i love hanging out with you, i just gotta text my mom and let her know before we end up somewhere with no service.” you explain yourself, and regina pretends as if she’s thinking about it for a moment. “just tell your mom you’re gonna spend the night at mine.” she orders, and you flash her a look, “gina, i can’t spend the night on a monday.” you remind her, causing her to huff.

“fine, tell her i’ll have you home by ten-thirty.” she mutters begrudgingly, and you smile in satisfaction. you send the text to your mom right as regina turns onto another highway to leave town. “okay, now i’m really curious! please tell me where we’re going.” you sound more excited than before, and the eagerness in your voice tugs on the blonde’s heartstrings. “it’s just a little place i like to go when things are too much. todays like the first pretty day we’ve had in awhile, and i wanted to take you.” she reveals, causing something inside of you to melt.

“y-you wanna take me to your spot?” you sound genuinely stunned, and regina snorts. “duh, who else would i wanna bring there? gretchen talks too much, karen doesn’t know what’s going on half the time, and everyone else only hangs out with me because i’m “regina george”… it’s only natural for me to take my special girl to my special place.” she retorts easily, causing the blood to rise to your face. regina smirks as she notes how flushed your cheeks are; she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of the affect she has on you.

“we’re almost there; finish your pretzels.” she commands, and you don’t have to be told twice.

the sun is nearly setting by the time you both pull into a secluded area off a random road in the middle of nowhere. you can’t help but wonder how regina knows about this place; how long she was driving to find it one day. as she drives further into a green grassy area full of trees, with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps in the tree lines. your eyes widen as she drives further, only going deeper into the beautiful woods.

you roll down your windows excitedly, “oh my gosh this place is so pretty!” you squeal tempestuously. regina tries not look at you in fear she may swerve and ram into a tree, but your sudden uncontrolled behavior causes her to smile widely. if anyone she knew were to see it, they would hell froze over. she’s glad you aren’t paying any attention to her, because you would’ve seen the unusually soft expression on her face. you turn to look at her, catching her grinning from ear to ear, “we haven’t even gotten to the really cool part.” she tells you, and your eyes enlarge as they gaze into her.

“cooler than a literal forest out of a picture book!?” you ask and she chuckles, “you’re way too easy to impress. i’m starting to think i could park behind the 7/11 with you for an hour and you’d have fun.” she murmurs, and you shrug as you look back out the window. “as long as it’s with you.” you say this so easily, and it causes her smile to fall. her expression morphs into a baffled one, and she can’t stop herself from wondering why... why do you enjoy being around her so much?

regina makes a slight turn, and you let out this breathless gasp as your eyes land on a creek with a waterfall. it isn’t big, but it’s beautiful. “oh my god… gina! this is so beautiful!” you shriek erratically and you unbuckle your seatbelt as you the car comes to a full stop. you run out, and her eyes widen, “hey! i said i hate walking!” she hisses, trying to sound angry but she can’t even recognize herself.

if the girls heard me right now, they’d never respect me again.

“come on, gina!!” you order her, and regina— the girl who never takes orders from anyone— sighs as she turns the car off and gets out. “look at how clear the water is!” your enthusiasm causes regina to approach you, and act as if she hasn’t already seen this place a hundred times before you. it looks different when you’re here… regina can’t seem to place why. she isn’t sure if she’ll ever enjoy coming here without you again, and she doesn’t care. all she can do is stare at how the light of the sunset reflects off your big, wondrous eyes.

“if i would’ve known you liked this place so much, i would’ve brought you here awhile ago. i just never thought of bringing anyone till now.” she admits softly, and your smile deepens, which is something she didn’t even think was possible. “you haven’t bright anyone else here?” you ask timidly, and she nods earnestly. “just you.”

her confession causes you to wrap your arms around her, hugging her abruptly. her eyes widen a bit; she’s never been the hugging type… yet as your delicate grasp tightens around her lovingly, in a way she’s never felt, she can’t help the way her stomach flutters pathetically. she hugs you back, and can feel you practically melt into her. you’re so happy, and it hits her that you’re happy because of her. she’s made people cry, yell, curse, and run in the opposite direction… but she’s never made anyone feel happy.

the fleeting thought alone terrifies her like nothing else ever has. regina george is falling in love with you, and she isn’t sure how to stop it.

a/n: please don’t hate me but tumblr wasn’t letting me tag some of your accounts 😭💔

taglist: @xvyzxx @spideyznss @whateveryouwantsee11 @alwaysgoodnight @chaoticcoffeequeen @mcu-junkie @lottienatswife @vanessashands @natashas-whore @southelroys @dandelions4us @ylenabelxva @probs-reading-fanfics @dont-emily-me @luz-enjoyer @flocon-neigeux @jjiwoo06 @aminetil @pyro-les @tyler-06 @justlovemaths @teenybean @emskies @tulipatheticee @marvelwomenarehot0 @syddie-reads @slaysksmska @cas-is-weird-ig @scarlettbitchx @pianogirl2121 @puppy-danvers2016 @messsor @dmenby3100 @that-one-little-soybean

[traffytaffy]

OP men and being “told”they are in love with you:

Ft. Law, Kid, Zoro

Cw: implied fem reader (mainly in zoro’s part)

Ngl, not much of a fan of this so i might make a follow up! lmk if i should!

Part 2

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Law:

Oh boy.

This man doesnt realize it until one of his crew members tell him. He’ll give you small smiles when youre not looking. Completely mesmerized at you: Your focus, your dedication, your delicateness with every task performed. But most importantly: your smarts. Every-time you spoke, he would stop what he was doing and listen intently at whatever subject it was. Which was how the crew…mainly ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin, knew there was a special interest.

“Am I in love with y/n? I dont see how thats any of your business”

Law says, looking at an accusatory Ikkaku.

“Captain. I can see that look on your face. You’re all red.”

“No im not.”

“Oh yes you a-“

“Room”

~

After that, It really got him thinking. Why did he get all flustered? No. There is no way he was in love. It was just a coincidence that he happened to get all worked up around you. That his heart would beat a little faster. That he was willing to drop whatever he was doing to help/listen or be with you. That he spoke more softer and less stern too. That was all a coincidence….right?

~

“Captain? Who’s that tiny person you’re drawing on your sticky note? Are you distracted by something? Is that… y/n?”

“Don’t any of you know how to knock?!”

A blue bubble surrounds the submarine.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Kid:

Same as Law.

He doesn’t realize his behavior till a teasing Killer points it out.

“I didn’t take you to be such a romantic, Kid.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

His soft tone of voice in comparison of his rough one. The way he yelled at everyone except you. The way his brows furrowed every time he saw you talking to someone else. The way he locked himself in his workshop and didn’t let anyone in when he saw you enjoying yourself with another crew member that wasn’t him. Killer was the one who found him and he could see right through Kid.

What was this feeling? Why was he more angry?

“You were staring at them that whole time. You’re jealous huh?” Killer asks, Kid could sense the grin from under his mask.

“Jealous? For fucks sake. No”

Killer shakes his head with a laugh and mutters “Whatever you say” before leaving the room.

Kid scoffs. Killer didn’t know anything. This is how he always acted….right? I mean you were beautiful… but that didn’t affect him right? You shouldn’t be all smiley and happy with anyone besides him.. thats just a friendly way of thinking right?

“Eustass? Killer sent me in here cause he said you needed my help with something?” You walk in all shy and innocently. You didn’t know about the little trick Killer was pulling on Kid.

Kid turns soft when he sees you and becomes a blushing and stuttering mess for how caught off-guard he was from your sudden appearance. This, as everything else, enrages him.

And who else is to blame for this?

“KILLER IM GOING TO KILL YOU!”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Zoro:

He knows what he feels. He just doesn’t want to believe or pursue his own feelings.

Every-time he sees you, his heart beats faster. But this wasn’t the same fast heart rate he got when he was training. Nope. It was every time you were in his presence. Every brush of skin. Every-time he saw you fight. Every time you assisted him in anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have time for romance.”

“Ah! So you’re not even denying it!You’ve never told Sanji off when it came to him flirting with us, but now you suddenly do?”

Nami says, pointing at herself and Robin next to her, referring to the event that led for the crew figuring out he was in love with you. Sanji was serving ice cold drinks he made for the hot summer day and as usual…he got flirty. But once Sanji got to you, his heart eyes and kneeling position in front of you as if you were accepting his hand in marriage. Zoro’s eyebrows furrowed and he stood up from where he was napping.

“Leave them alone Sanji. Can you not be a creep for one day?!”.

Although Sanji would’ve made a snarky remark back. He didn’t. Sanji looked stunned? He looked back at Nami and Robin from where they sat at and Nami shrugged, while Robin gave a knowing smile.

~

“You two don’t know crap. I don’t have time for this”

Suddenly, you walk in..

You look at Robin and Nami who were hovering over Zoro cleaning his swords on the bench. Although you were confused, you shrugged it off.

“Oh hey…” you say… “Zoro, wanna train?”

Zoro looks away and starts to stutter.

“Oh uhm…s-sure…”

Nami and Robin smirk at him, which is met with a death glare.

“Im slicing all of you.”

[moonstruckme]

Okay my inbox is doing that fun thing again where it disappears the ask I was looking for only to reappear after a couple of days, but luckily I had it copy + pasted and I think it was from an anon anyway, so thank you very much for your request!

Request: undercover spencer and reider?? fake dating??? tension???? the brainrot i have for this man is ridiculous

cw: serial killer, no killing in the scene but they do talk about how he's killed people in the past

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 825 words

Spencer’s fingers are intertwined with yours, your knees touching, and yet you have to ask: “Are we being…canoodle-y enough?” 

“Enough for now,” Prentiss’ voice is dry in your earpiece, but you can hear the humor in it. “We don’t have any movement yet, and it’s not like you’ve got any competition.” 

That’s fair enough. While you and Spencer have been sitting on a park bench playing couple, the rest of your team has quietly cleared every real couple out of the area. The serial killer you’re trying to lure out seems to have a thing for this particular park—as do teens trying to light a spark away from their parents’ homes. Your unsub likes to find some young sweethearts in a secluded area, then kill the girl while the boy watches before offing him, too. Your team is hoping that you and Spencer look young and in love enough in the dark to pique his interest. 

And you can’t help that you’re no longer a teenager, but luckily attraction to Spencer Reid isn’t difficult for you to fake. 

“It’s getting late,” you whisper to him. “Doesn’t he usually strike around eleven?” 

Spencer’s pupils are large and reflective in the darkness. “He’s regimented,” he replies, just as softly, like you’re lovers whispering sweet nothings in the night, “but in the past, his window has extended from eleven to eleven thirty. We might have some time.” 

“Do you think he’s here already?” 

“Probably.” His hand coasts up your arm, a tentative teen trying to make a move. It draws a line from your elbow around your back to settle on your waist. Spencer’s mouth is close to your ear. “He likes to stalk his victims for a while. He’s probably making a few passes around the park.” 

You swallow but do your best to look comfortable, leaning into his side. “Right. That makes sense.” 

“You seem nervous,” he says. 

“Do I?” 

Spencer hums, and his forefinger makes a couple of slow strokes on your side. The movement is so small you wonder if it’s for your unsub’s benefit or yours. 

“I know this is your first time being the bait, but no one’s going to let anything happen to us.” His voice is hardly a murmur, breath sweet and warm on your cheek. “Hotch wouldn’t let us do this if he wasn’t sure they could protect us.” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. Spencer adjusts his grip on your waist, and your heart flutters. You really hope you’re attacked by a serial killer before he figures you out. “Yeah, I know.” 

“We’ve got a jogger in dark clothes headed your way,” Derek says through your earpiece. “Look like you like each other, kids.” 

Your breath catches as Spencer’s free hand comes up to catch your jaw, turning your face gently into his. Your noses tease each other, the nervous beginnings of a kiss in the making. You have the sense that if you inhaled it would close the space between your lips. 

“Close your eyes,” Spencer murmurs. 

“What?” 

“It’s only believable if you close your eyes.” 

You trust him. Your eyelashes brush against his skin as they flutter closed, and Spencer caresses your cheek as if in approval. You’re acutely aware of every nerve in your body. Your blood rushes fast, the hairs on your arms upraised and your brain buzzing, but the atmosphere around you is as quiet as if you’re frozen in time. 

Then the bushes to your left rustle. 

Spencer’s up and in front of you in a flash, but not before JJ’s shining her flashlight and pointing her gun at the unsub. 

“FBI! Put the knife down.” 

The man hesitates. You grab Spencer’s sleeve, thinking for a moment to pull him back, but the unsub is still too far away to even entertain taking either of you hostage and now Hotch is on your other side, repeating JJ’s demand. You breathe a soft sigh of relief when the knife makes a dull thud on the grass. 

“Good job, lovebirds,” Derek teases as Hotch puts the guy in cuffs. “I wouldn’t have thought this perv would go for anyone not already half naked, but you two were so convincing he chose you anyway.” 

“Probably just for lack of better options.” You look down under the guise of brushing off your pants.

“No, you were great.” Spencer’s voice is sincere. It’s praise given casually, with no awareness of how it affects you. “It’s hard to keep your head in those situations, but you did really great.” 

You shrug, bashful. “Yeah, well, you did most of the work. I definitely wouldn’t have known what to do if you hadn’t taken the lead.” The double entendre has blood rushing to your face, but thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice.

But of course, Derek does. “That’s what I’m always saying.” He drops one eye in a wink, teasing coating his voice. “You’d never know it, but pretty boy here’s got moves.” 

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

can you write a fic where emily is on her period, annoyed at work, irritated, and really needy but is lowkey embarrassed to ask reader for relief? reader basically then calls her silly and tells em she loves her always and then helps her? and heavy smut takes place

(reader also works at the bau)

thank u!! - and no problem at all if u don’t feel like writing this <3

I got u, anon! ❤️ Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

Touchy

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, graphic sex, fingering, afab body parts, menstruation, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.7k

Summary: You and Unit Chief Emily have had a secret thing going on for a while, but when she starts lashing out at you and the rest of the team, you suspect something's wrong. Turns out, it's something you are very capable of fixing. 😏

Emily sat hunched over a book that she clearly wasn’t reading, massaging her temples. She’d been touchy this whole trip. Touchy with the rest of the team, with local law enforcement. Thank god JJ was in charge of dealing with the press, or she would have been touchy with them, too. And now she was touchy on the jet.

Usually on the last night of a case, when the end was in sight or when you were headed home in the morning, or even on a night where she was frustrated that they hadn’t made progress, Emily would come to your room. She’d knock softly, in the dead of the night, slip into your room, into your bed, into your very body. And she’d be gone before your alarm went off in the morning.

You’d waited and waited last night for Emily to come to you, watching the minutes go by, then hours. You knew you hadn’t made any plans, nothing concrete. There was never anything concrete when the BAU was out on a case. But, nevertheless, you missed her. You missed the warmth of her body next to you, the way you’d talk and laugh about nothing while she sat in bed, naked, and smoked a cigarette after she’d thoroughly fucked your brains out. You missed the way she’d vent to you about the case or tell you something personal, something she wouldn’t tell anyone else, as you fell asleep together, tangled in some random hotel’s sheets.

You’d been seeing each other for months now and, outside of work, had some semblance of a typical relationship. But at work, you were just an agent and her unit chief. Friendly colleagues, at most. You and Emily were always careful to appear impartial. And you were profilers, so you were pretty good at avoiding tells that your relationship was more than it seemed on the outside. But you were worried about her today. She was angry and irritated and… not herself. You were trying to figure out a way to ask her what was wrong, but you couldn’t figure out how to move seats to be near her without arousing suspicion. Not to mention the fact that Emily would never tell another member of the team that something personal was going on. So she couldn’t tell you. Not here, not on the jet.

You tried not to look too interested when Reid sat down across from Emily, playing with the string on his sachet of green tea. “Are you okay, Emily?”

She made a noncommittal sound of affirmation, then muttered. “Just a headache.”

“You know,” he started, and you could just tell he was prepped for an educational monologue. “Headaches are simultaneously one of the easiest and one of the hardest medical maladies to solve, depending on their cause. There are over 50 reasons why one might have a headache, usually categorized into two overarching categories: primary and second–”

“Reid,” Emily snapped. “I am begging you to shut up unless you want to become one of the 50 causes of a headache.”

Reid shrank into himself, and you immediately felt sorry for him. Sure, he could come off as a know-it-all or annoying, but he was goodhearted and kind and smart and cared about the team. It wasn’t like Emily to belittle him.

When you’d all debarked from the plane and made your way to the parking lot, you waited for the other cars to peel out before approaching Emily’s. You tapped on her window and she rolled it down for you.

“What?” she growled.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, voice full of concern. “You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” she stated. “God, I wish people would just fucking leave me alone today. And stop asking all these questions.”

You were taken aback, hurt. You weren’t “people.” You were, for all intents and purposes, her girlfriend, everywhere but at work.

“Well, um…” you stuttered, unsure how to proceed or respond. “Do you still want to come over tonight?” She almost always did the night after getting back from a case.

“Y/N,” she groaned, massaging her forehead. “No offense, babe, but what part of ‘I wish people would fucking leave me alone’ did you not get?”

You felt like crying, but you’d be damned if you were going to let Emily see it. “Whatever, Em.” You shook your head. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

You watched Emily zoom out of the parking lot and, once she was gone, you let yourself cry. At least it wasn’t just you she was upset with; clearly she had it out for everyone right now. But still… Emily was usually different with you. She was softer around the edges, kind and thoughtful, a little bit silly. This wasn’t like her at all.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. How fucking dare she blow you off like you were no one!? She’d been rude and dismissive and snappy and weird with everyone this whole trip and, dammit, she was not going to get away with being like that to you, too. Either something was wrong with her or something was wrong with the rest of you that had pissed her off. Either way, you were determined to figure it out. So when you sped out of the parking lot, teary and determined, you headed not to your apartment, but to Emily’s.

You knocked angrily on Emily’s door until she threw it open, looking as pissed as you’d ever seen her. “Y/N,” she said, frustration evident. “I told you I didn’t want to see you.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, pushing past her and into the apartment. “Sometimes you don’t get what you want.”

You poured yourself a glass from the open bottle of wine she had on the counter and took a sip. Emily stood across from you, still massaging her temples and looking generally annoyed.

“What, Y/N?” she groaned. “What do you want?”

You set your glass down so aggressively the wine sloshed a bit. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Emily!?” you railed. “You’re being so mean and so… not yourself. Is something going on!?”

She sighed heavily and lowered herself into a chair and, for a moment, you thought she might cry. You surged toward her and tucked her hair behind her ear, holding her face, softly, delicately, in case, as she had all day, she decided to pull away again.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” you said softly, your thumbs lightly tracing the circles under her eyes.

Emily leaned into your touch and you knew she was finally there, finally at a point where she’d stop fighting and let you in.

“I’ve got fucking fibroids…” she mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “And I’m on my period and… they’re always bad, but they just make it so much worse.”

“Em,” you sighed, letting her rest her head on your chest. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Periods aren’t embarrassing, honey. They’re just a part of life. A shitty part.”

When she didn’t answer and kept her head buried in your chest, you started playing with her hair. “What do you need, huh? What’ll make you feel better? Do you have pain meds? You want to take a bath? Lie down for a bit?”

Emily pulled back and looked away, shrinking into herself.

“Hey, don’t start that again,” you scolded, taking her hand.

“Babe, just tell me. What do you need, hmm?”

She mumbled something under her breath, so quiet that you couldn’t catch it.

“What?”

“I need you to touch me,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “But that’s not fair of me to ask.”

You smiled, relieved. This is what Emily had been so frustrated about!? You chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her head, her cheek, then sunk your lips into hers. You felt elated by the way she grasped your shirt, the way she pulled into you.

When you broke apart, she was breathless, her pupils blown, but she still looked so deeply embarrassed, almost ashamed.

“Come on,” you said gently, leading her by the hand toward the bathroom. “And to think this whole time you were just really fucking horny.”

You turned on the shower, made sure it was the right temperature, and started stripping your clothes off.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Emily asked, leaning against the bathroom counter.

You stared at her. “What do you mean what am I doing?”

She gestured at your now nude body, as you folded your clothes into a messy pile.

“I’m getting in the shower,” you explained. “And you’re getting in the shower, and then I’m gonna make you come.”

If possible, Emily’s face reddened even more. “Uh… no,” she protested. “No, no. Did you miss the part where I said I was on my period?”

You gestured toward the steaming shower. “Did you miss the part where we’re in the shower so it doesn’t matter?”

“It does matter,” she argued. “I don’t– I’ve never… It’ll be messy, Y/N. I don’t want you to have to–”

You stared at her, mouth slightly agape. “You’ve never had sex on your period?”

She looked at the ground. “I… I mean, I guess I’ve never been with someone who… wanted to.”

Your heart broke then, just for a moment. For sweet, needy, embarrassed Emily, hugging herself in the corner of the bathroom.

“Well,” you said, approaching her and slipping your hands under her shirt. She gasped as you bent to suck on her neck. “That’s their loss.” You lifted her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, quickly taking one of her nipples in your mouth. She moaned and sank her fingers into your hair. “I can assure you that I…” And you planted a kiss on her chest. “Very much…” You gently unzipped her pants and placed a kiss there, just below her stomach. “Want to.”

Emily pulled you back up and kissed you hungrily, desperately, as she kicked off the rest of her clothes, pushing you into the shower so she could discreetly remove her tampon. You pressed her up against the cool tile, letting the warm water rush over you both. It’s not that you were normally rough with Emily or vice versa, but you were careful to be particularly gentle with her tonight, knowing that her body was sensitive and in pain.

You kissed Emily slowly, deeply, making your way down her neck, across her chest, tracing slow, indulgent circles around her nipples as she let her head rest back against the tile. You could feel her heart beating underneath your tongue and it drove you wild.

When you crouched to move lower, holding yourself steady against her thighs, she pulled you back up, eyes pleading with you. “Just your hands. Please.”

You brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead. “Are you sure?” You smirked. “I really don’t mind getting messy.”

“I know,” she replied, still breathing heavily as your thumbs drew circles against her hips. “But I mind.”

“Whatever you want, honey,” you breathed into her ear as you ran your fingers through her warm folds.

Emily shuddered and pressed her head into your shoulder, bucking involuntarily into your hand. You let your thumb idle around her clit, slow and rhythmic and gentle, until you had her panting and whining against you.

“More,” she begged, and you happily obliged, softly pressing two fingers into her pulsing entrance. You picked up speed as she pressed into you, her breath high and hitched, with small noises of effort and pleasure echoing around the shower.

“Wait, stop,” she gasped, even as she thrust into you. You stilled your movements, and waited for her to tell you what she wanted. “I feel like I might collapse,” she gasped.

“In a good way or a bad way?” you asked, both of you giggling.

“A good way, but…”

“Here,” you said, moving her arms so they were wrapped around your neck and inching forward so that your thigh was between her legs. You wrapped your free hand around her waist and planted a kiss on her neck. “I’ve got you, okay? I’m not gonna let you fall. Just let go, baby.”

Emily didn’t need any more encouragement, riding your fingers as if her very life depended on it. And when she finally reached her peak, when she finally let herself fall apart, nothing in the world could have made you let go of her. You held her up as she shook, her walls pulsing around your fingers, her mouth wide and warm against your shoulder.

“There you go,” you whispered, bringing her back down and planting fluttery kisses wherever you could reach as you held her steady. She shook against you, holding onto you, and when she finally found her way back to her feet, you kissed her again and again, all over.

“Feel better?” you asked her, cupping her face in your hands. She nodded and wrapped her arms around your neck in an embrace and, for a while, you just held her there, hot water pouring over you, heartbeats dwindling back to a normal rate.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice vibrating against your skin. She stood and looked at you apologetically. “Sorry I was such a bitch.”

You shook your head and kissed her again. “It’s okay. Everyone’s a bitch on their period.”

Your heart was in your throat as Emily let you wash her, let you lather shampoo into her hair and rub soap gently across her body, making sure she was clean and cared for. She was so soft under your touch, so soft and pliable, such a contrast to how she was at work with everyone else. She always acted so tough. And she was tough, but she could also be so soft. You loved that she was soft for you.

You dried her off, you kissed her shoulder, you told her to go ahead and get in bed, that’d you’d be right there. And when you returned and found her in bed with wet hair in an oversized t-shirt, you were struck by the realization that you never really wanted to go to bed with anyone else. That what you’d really like is to be in bed with Emily every night. Not just random nights on the road. Not just after the dates you spent at places you chose because it didn’t seem like any other member of your team would be there. You loved her. You were falling in love with her.

You handed her the glass of water you’d prepared in the kitchen, and thought about how not to accidentally tell her you loved her. She sipped gingerly at the edge of the bed and looked deeply at you.

“What?” you asked, shrinking under her gaze.

“Do you want to stay here?” she asked.

“Duh,” you replied, already climbing into bed next to her. “I always spend the night after. And we don’t have work tomorrow.”

“No, I mean…” She picked at her fingernails, avoiding your eyes. “Do you want to stay here… for good. Like, would you want to move in?”

You felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. “Are you serious?” you asked, gaping at her.

Emily shook her head. “Forget it. Sorry. It was a stupid question.”

“No, no!” You grabbed her hand and held it between both of hers. “I just… I didn’t know what this was for you. If you wanted to… keep it casual, I guess.”

She sighed and looked into your eyes and you knew then, you knew that whenever it slipped out, whenever you were ready to say it, she would say it back. “I haven’t been casual about you for a while now, Y/N.”

And you kissed her. You kissed her again and again, kissed her until she was giggling and squirming, until you had her wrapped in your arms under the covers.

And when she reached to turn the light out, when she curled into your body, you let your words venture out in the darkness, soft and quiet, almost imperceptible: “I love you.”

And like a light, her voice, vibrating against your skin as she fell asleep in your arms: “I love you, too.”

[limethefirst]

You’re not alone

pairings: Logan Howlett x reader

warning: mentions of stress, panic attack, light drinking, hurt/comfort

summary: The stress of everything has finally caught you, luckily your neighbor Logan spotted you just in time

a/n: just a short story to help those who need comfort, this can be perceived as platonic or romantic, I don’t specify cause I don’t go into specifics as I want everyone to feel comfortable reading it

Everything was blurry.

One minute you were opening the door to your apartment, coming home from what felt like the worst day of your life, the next your felt yourself fall to your knees, clutching your shirt as it clung to your now rapidly rising chest.

You’ve been feeling very overwhelmed lately but you kept pushing through, trying and trying so hard to prove you can do it, but you can’t. It was just too much.

Now here you were, on the floor of your apartment hallway, leaning against the door, beads of sweat dripping from your forehead, your hands felt as if they were contorting, you were beginning to tremble.

You were so scared, you didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly you heard a creak. You looked up, a blurred figure approaching you; as the figure got closer you saw who it was. Your neighbor Logan.

The two of you didn’t really talk, you’d on occasion see him out in the hallway, getting his laundry, taking a swig of his alcohol, or just going out. Today was no different for him, he was just about to go out and have a drink, well that was till he saw you.

Logan went to your side, he had his leather jacket on, as well as his usually wife beater attire. He slowly put down his beer, “Hey, hey Bub, breathe, just breathe,”

You tried to listen to him, he didn’t try to grab you, he was afraid, afraid he might make it worse, so he just talked; hoping maybe you’d be listening.

Your teary eyes looked over at him, frantically, asking him to help you. You hardly knew the man, yet you and him both had an understanding at that moment.

“Listen, just count with me backwards okay, doesn’t have to be out loud, just take it slow” He got a bit closer, he wanted to let you know he was there.

You did as he asked, you started from 10.

10, Logan sat down right next to you and nodded his head.

9, your now trembling figure began to slow itself.

8, you started to breathe a little more clearly.

7, looking at Logan, he slowly put his hand your shoulder.

6, your tear stained cheeks began to dry.

5, you closed your eyes, letting everything fade away.

4, you let go of your shirt, your hands now on the floor.

3, you felt your muscles relax.

2, you opened your eyes.

1, Logan put his leather jacket over your figure.

0, you were now calm.

Looking over at the man, he let out a sigh of relief even he didn’t know he was holding, without thinking you gave him a hug.

Logan wasn’t sure of what to do, he wasn’t the touchy type, but he made an exception this one time, he felt as though you needed it.

“C’mon, let’s take a breather outside huh? We can talk about it there if you want,” Logan said, he began to stand up, grabbing his beer in his left hand as he held out his arm for you to lift yourself up.

You grabbed his arm, standing up as well, then letting your hand fall back to your side, “Here take your jacket,” you tried to take it off, but he just shook his head.

“Don’t worry about, it’s cold tonight, now let’s go before it gets late.” Was all he told you before walking towards the door.

You didn’t question him, quickly putting your arms through the sleeves of the jacket and following him.

You were glad he was there that night.

[happy74827]

Butterflies

[Harvey Specter x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You know you’re screwed when you feel them fluttering in your chest {GIF Creds: jeysuso}.

WC: 717

Category: Fluff

For all my Harvey lovers out there, I made a cute fluffy quickie (I’m seeing a lot of my fics being swarmed with love so why not add to it 🤗)

『••✎••』

It happened over a bottle of bourbon. A spilled bottle, actually. But a bottle of bourbon nonetheless, and that is important to note.

You didn’t mean to spill the alcohol all over your date, but he had made some comment about how you shouldn't be wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, so you just… happened to tip the entire thing over him.

The man was furious, of course, but he left pretty quickly after that. And you were left with a mess on the floor and a waiter hovering at the side, asking if you wanted another bottle.

You told him no. You just wanted to go home.

You didn't want a new date; you didn't want to sit at this stupid table with the stupid white tablecloth, the stupid, gaudy candlesticks, or the stupid waiter with the stupid, expectant look on his face.

"Miss?"

"No, thank you," you say, a little more firmly, gathering up your things and leaving as much cash as you can on the table. If you were smart, you'd have brought an umbrella, but you're not smart, so you'll just get drenched like an idiot.

But, fortunately for you, the person calling your name knew you well enough to know you weren’t that smart.

Before a drop of water could even hit your hair, a tall, dark figure steps out in front of you and blocks the downpour. Some might consider this a gentlemanly action, but you knew the man, and he was hardly ever gentle.

"You're welcome," Harvey says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You're a pain," you reply, but you're grateful for the cover.

"And you're dateless. So, I see two options: we can have dinner and a drink back at my place, or we can do dinner and a drink back at mine."

You can't help but laugh. "Did you use this on Scottie? I see why she left. That line was bad."

"You're not going to ask how I knew you were here?"

"Nope. You probably had Louis stalk me."

"Don't talk about the puppy like that."

"So you did have him stalk me!"

"I prefer the term 'make sure you were alright,'" Harvey replies, and he holds out his arm to you. "Guy was a douche. Let me buy you dessert to make up for it. And I don’t mean in the biblical sense, although that can be arranged, too, if you'd like."

"Harvey, you’re such—"

You turned to him, ready to tell him exactly what you thought of him, but the words died when you met his eyes. Those same eyes that allured you into taking his offer at Pearson Hardman. The same eyes that made you agree to work with him on the case despite your better judgment.

In a flash, you saw the whole thing: your first meeting, the cases, the laughs, the looks, the touches. And now, the moment.

When you were younger, the term butterflies had never really made sense to you. The idea of feeling them in your stomach seemed ridiculous, and yet, there you were, feeling them for the very first time.

They were all fluttering around inside of you, and all you could think was, "Oh, no."

And as if the universe had heard you, it suddenly stopped raining, and you both stood there in the middle of the street, the moon casting a warm light on your faces.

Harvey noticed it, too, and his expression softened. His usual cockiness was replaced with a gentle concern. "You okay?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "Yeah."

Harvey reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than it needed to. He gave you that signature grin and asked, "You look like a velvet cake kind of girl. Am I right?"

He was right.

Goddamnit, he was right.

And as he swaddled you in his coat to keep you warm as you both went back inside, the anger and confusion you felt earlier melted into a quiet, warm glow.

Date night had not gone according to plan, but when his lips met yours and your hands slid through his soft, brown hair, you realized that, perhaps, sometimes, it was good to deviate from the plan.

The butterflies seemed to agree.

[genshin-obsessed]

When Someone Flirts with You! | Honkai Star Rail

Someone saw this coming and I'm very proud of you for figuring it out. Yeah, I've been getting into star rail and I thought I'd just write since I can't really think of genshin things to write right now lol this is barely edited, so have mercy <3 idk tags rn so please help me out :') ✧ Includes: Dan Heng, Welt, Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Blade ✧ Extra: Luocha and Blade might be ooc, I'm not too familiar with them as of right now. ✧ Come one, come all! See what happens when someone flirts with you in front of your men!

Dan Heng

Dan Heng is a really private person, he’s not a fan of showing off everything. So he’s not one to flaunt you around, but it’s not hard to tell you’re both in a relationship. He’s around you like… all the time.

He’s not one to follow around like a helicopter boyfriend, but he’s got an eye on you. If he sees someone bothering you, he’s behind them in an instant.

0/10. Dan Heng’s not super scary so they could ignore him and continue flirting with you. For a moment, he’ll just stand there as he listens to some of the dumb things they’re gonna say. You two make fun of them later for it. But then he hears something along the lines of, “come on, i’ll treat you better.” he don’t like that. 

How is this creep better than him?! They couldn’t even tell you were uncomfortable. Dan Heng will usually place a hand on their shoulder and his grip gets tighter every second the creep is still in front of you. Paired with his glare…

10/10 the creep is gone. You sigh in relief and walk to Dan Heng quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist. He immediately hugs back, stroking your hair a little.

“Let’s go somewhere else. I don’t like it here anymore.” You agreed.

Welt

Well, he doesn’t hang around you 24/7, he’s a busy man. But it’s also not hard to tell you’re dating either. Welt isn’t crazy about PDA, but he’ll give you a quick kiss every now and then and often gives you hugs (per your request).

He believes you’re capable of taking care of yourself, so he’s often not paying attention. That doesn’t mean he won’t look over at you every now and then. This time, he just happened to see some creepy creep trying to creep up on you. 

“Are you ok, (y/n)?” Is the first thing he asks when he walks up to you. He will literally ignore the existence of the creep beside him. Usually what happens here is that you’ll nod and he’ll “accidentally” shove the creepy away and urge you to come talk with him and his friends. The creep is usually so confused they walk away. But sometimes- sometimes- they follow.

Welt does NOT like that. I mean it was one thing to not take the hint from your face, but then to stop you when you’re actively trying to leave?

Welt will turn around and just glare at them. Like that silent, “I will kill you” kinda glare. It’s a staring contest for a moment before the creepy creep just kinda turns away and leaves. Sometimes, Welt does have to smack them with his lil cane. Sometimes.

“Anyway, we’re over here. Would you like a drink?”

Sampo

Sampo is all over you, usually. He loves you and the world should know? Sometimes, he can go too far so just let him know. Anyway, since he’s always over you, people know you’re dating him.

Usually at parties and events, he’s hanging off your arm, but sometimes he’s gotta go talk to some of his other friends and acquaintances. He keeps an eye on you.

Here’s the thing, he’ll come up and flirt with you too but try to one up the creep. “You look fine, darling,” - the creep. “You look so beautiful, every star in the sky and the moons pale in comparison.” - Sampo.

0/10. Of course, the creep gets irritated and asks what the hell Sampo is doing. Sampo just gives him a condescending smile and says, “that’s my partner you’re talking to. I’m not gonna let you just creep up on them.” There’s… a glint in his eyes that’s unnerving. Even you can see it.

69/10. The creep runs off, making some excuse or whatever. Sampo watches them for a minute before turning to you and smiling. You rush to give him a hug and he happily returns it.

“Wanna go home? Seems like that idiot trashed your mood a little.”

Gepard

Gepard is a very shy guy and he’s not one to be all touchy-touchy without you doing it first. He gets all flustered and looks away… but he’ll lean into your touch.

He usually sticks around you, keeping your attention so no creepies come by, but sometimes he gets pulled away. He always lets you know he’ll be right back and leaves for just a few moments. Enough for a creepy to sneak in >:0

When Gepard notices the creep, he wastes no time walking over to you. “Is everything ok?” He asked, looking at you. If you shook your head, that was it. The captain of the silvermane’s came out!

The first glare is usually a 50/50. Sometimes, the creeps acted all annoyed and walk away, pretending they’re not scared but other times… they challenge him. Gepard just places a hand on their shoulder and shoves them back. It’s actually surprisingly strong- they’ll fall over sometimes.

10/10, that usually sends them running. On rare occasions there’s that ONE creepy who just stands up and tries to take him on lmao. You know to take a step back because Gepard kinda skips the arresting and just goes to ass kicking. And he’s the shy boyfriend.

“So… we should go now. Yeah, no, just leave the creep there.”

Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan isn't the most affectionate boyfriend, but he doesn’t mind letting people know you two are together. Depends on your comfort level.

He’s a busy man, so at that fancy event, he can’t always be at your side but he tries to keep you by him. Of course, you decided to go get a drink, he happily agreed. You went off and he kept greeting more officials. You didn’t return, so he looked over and he just saw you turning away from a creep who just grabbed your arm!

Jing Yuan elegantly excuses himself and basically sneaks up behind the guy. He’ll stand there which brings you tons of relief, enough to let the creep ramble and ramble and ramble. “I could take you out to dinner, (nickname you don’t like). I’ll buy you (food you don’t like).” “Actually, they don’t like that. And they don’t like being called that.” The creep jumps away and is standing beside you at that point.

5/10, honestly, some just get scared and leave. There’s the other half though that just kinda scoff and look at you. Before they can even say anything, Jing Yuan grabs them by the shirt and force them to look at him. “Do not speak to them like that. Do not look at them, and don’t even think about them. You leave now or I’ll drag you out myself.”

10/10!!!!!!!!! They are GONE. No sign of them for MILES. Jing Yuan huffs and looks down at you. At this point, everyone’s looking at you two, making you extremely uncomfortable. He’ll stand beside you and pull you close, using that half of his jacket thing to cover you.

“We can leave. I’ll deal with everything else later. Come on.”

Luocha

This man is unpredictable. Sometimes, he’s grabbing your hand to prove your dating, others are just a straight kiss. You don’t mind. Either way, the world knows you two are together.

Luocha doesn’t mind leaving you alone, he’s got confidence in himself and you. That doesn’t mean he’s not there as your backup. Creeps creep on a daily- he’s gotchu. He sees the creep and he’s already walking toward you.

“No!” You exclaimed with a frown, “I'm not interested. Leave me alone.” Luocha didn’t mind scaring the creep off… but it was when they grabbed you that kinda set him off. “Hey.” Is all he says as he grabs their wrist to shove their hand away. 3/10. SOMETIMES people do get scared off by his demeanor. But there’s always that one. Our favorite.

For those guys, he’ll just get physical. There’s just this switch that goes off when it comes to you. 10/10. They’re either gone or out like a light.

“Come, we should go somewhere else.”

Blade

Lol. First of all, people know you’re dating this dude because you’re still alive while hanging off his arm. He’s not affectionate in public other than some sweet words. “You look nice today.” “I think you did well.” Things like that.

Blade can… be a helicopter boyfriend because he just has a 6th sense for creepies. You can be doing your own thing and he’s just standing there. Menacingly. There are days where he’s away from you, but he keeps a sharp eye on you. Then he notices the creep.

“Go away.” You say with a huff as you turn away. “Stop!” You yell, trying to pull your hand away. Suddenly, the creep is silent and frozen. You probably know exactly what happened.

You feel your arm come loose and look behind you to see Blade pointing… well his blade at the creep. He doesn’t say anything and the creep can’t help but just feel the icy fear in their veins. 10/10, Blade doesn’t fail.

“Thank you.” You say with a sigh as you run and hug his arm, looking up at him. Blade sighs and looks down at you, feeling that relief in his chest knowing that you’re fine and right beside him where you should be.

“It’s because you look cute today. Let’s go somewhere else.”

[jaythes1mp]

4826 words, 27475 characters, 269 sentences, 122 paragraphs, 19.3 pages

All done in one night🙏 it’s 7:50 am and I haven’t slept, so if you don’t like this I might cry bro

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

You quietly opened the classroom door, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible as you creep inside. You scanned the room, holding your laptop close to your side as your eyes darting around the space with slight panic. Your heart racing from the exertion of running from across campus to get here. Thankfully the professor hadn't started yet and your friend, who already sat near the back of the room, gives you a knowing glance. You give him a sheepish smile as you make your way through the rows of desks to him.

"You cut it a bit close this time." He gives you a cheeky grin. "I made it here though, didn't I?" You retort.

He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the professor clearing her throat at the front of the room, signalling class is about to begin. “Mister Wayne.” She warns, her calculating eyes boring into Tim’s frame. He sits up straight and gives her a sheepish smile.

You have to bring a hand up to muffle your laughter. “Mister Wayne.” You mock quietly, whispering so no one other than the boy next to you could hear.

He felt the eyes of the other students on him like burning hot plates, the majority of them were either envious of him or thought he was an entitled prick.

Of course the professor would call him out for talking when you were the one who ran in late.

Tim couldn't help but smile sheepishly as he was chastised, he had heard your quiet snickering behind. There was this fuzzy feeling in the back of his head at the thought that you were laughing because of him. He had made you happy. He could rub this in Damian’s face later.

The longer class went on the further and further consumed into your little project you got. You had finished the assignment for your criminology course a few days ago, not that Jason was aware. Instead occupying your time with your side hobby. You had over four thousand people following your reporters blog online and it earned you some decent cash. Now far too invested in the lives of the vigilantes of Gotham to really think about anything else. It didn’t help that the people you surrounded yourself with were all geniuses, so you couldn’t rely on them for help even with vague questions as they’d figure out that you’re the author for Blüdhaven’s top trending reporting blog. Maybe Dick could help you, he doesn’t portray himself as the smartest tool in the box when it comes to these things and he won’t ask too many questions.

Your train of thought is cut off as you feel the end of a pen dig into your side, glaring over at Tim.

He kept the pen pressed to your side, not at all being gentle about the small jabs as he tried to get your attention, silently gesturing to you to pay attention to the damn class, not whatever you were doing on your laptop. He’ll have to bug it, seeing as you’re not using your phone as much anymore.

You grimaced when you felt the pen being jabbed into your side again, a silent command to pay attention to the class and stop messing around on your laptop. You rolled your eyes and shot a glare at your friend, who was giving you a pointed look.

You begrudgingly closed the device, knowing that Tim would find other ways to get your attention if you didn’t stop being distracted. You sigh and silently resign yourself to actually paying attention to the class, although you made sure to shoot another glare at Tim for good measure.

Drake follows along quietly as you rush to pack up your belongings. The class seems to end faster than usual, and the moment the teacher releases you from the period, you grab Tim's sleeve and pull him along behind you, quickly making your way out the door with him in tow.

The hallway outside is filled with a mix of noise and chaos. Laughing groups of students chatter away amongst themselves, while others race through, late for their next class. The sound of sneakers scraping against the college’s floors loud and prominent. You push your way through the crowd, guiding him along as you make a beeline for the on-campus cafe.

As you enter the cafe, the atmosphere shifts to a more relaxed vibe. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods waft through the air, filling the space with a comforting scent. The cafe is moderately crowded, with students occupying the various tables and booths scattered throughout. Some chat amongst themselves while sipping on their drinks, while others are engrossed in their studies, textbooks spread out before them. There's a gentle hum of conversation that fills the cafe, blending with the soft music playing in the background.

As you scan the cafe for an available booth, your eyes roam over the cozy ambiance, taking in the various students enjoying their time. However, your search comes to an abrupt halt when your gaze falls on Dick Grayson, the young professor, sitting alone in the corner. You discreetly tug on Tim's sleeve and subtly gesture in Grayson's direction with a nudge of your shoulder.

You notice a subtle change in Tim's expression as his lips curve into a knowing grin. He doesn't seem all that fazed by Dick’s presence, almost as if he was expecting it. As if he was already aware that he’d be here. However, what you been blissfully unaware of was Dick’s impatiently bouncing leg, and the checking of his phone every few seconds.

You pull Tim along to the man’s booth, standing opposite him with a grin. Grayson’s face lights up at the sight of you, and he quickly places his phone face down on the table before standing up to greet you. Without hesitation, he spreads his arms wide, opening them in invitation for a welcoming embrace.

You eagerly accept Dick’s open arms, wrapping your own around his sides without a second thought. Seeking out the familiar comfort of his embrace. Your head fits perfectly against his chest, and you relish the feel of his warmth and the comforting familiarity of this act. Settling snugly against him like a younger sibling would to an older brother.

With your head snuggled against his chest, you're not able to spot the dark grins that spread across the brothers' faces as they exchange knowing looks, their gazes fixed on you.

You gradually untangle yourself from Dick’s embrace and slide into the booth, settling comfortably between the two brothers. Chuckling softly when the oldest Wayne seemed reluctant to let go of you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He chirps, resting his head in his palm and idly tracing around the carved lines of the table.

You nod, settling back into the booth and intending to let the two brothers continue their discussion without interruption. However, you quickly realize that their intense stares are focused solely on you, their gazes unwavering and intense. The intensity in their gazes prompt you to discreetly clear your throat in an attempt to break the silence.

"You both are staring at me like you have something to say," you comment. Fiddling with a loose strand at the end of your sweater.

The brothers exchange a glance, seemingly communicating silently between them with subtle nods and raised eyebrows. Eventually, Dick clears his throat and turns his gaze back to you, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Ah, sorry about that. Got a bit lost in thought." Dick says, his voice tinged with a hint of humor.

Tim, on the other hand, remains silent, his steady gaze not leaving you. His expression is unreadable, though a small quirk of his lips suggests a hint of amusement.

“Right...” You look down towards the table, noticing it empty of any beverages nor sweets. Had Dick not ordered before we got here?

You blink, realising your mistake and sitting up. “Oh, sorry. You guys know each other right? I’m sure Timmy-boy has at least one of your classes?”

Dick snorts, but quickly quietens down by a sharp look thrown from Tim. “Yeah, we’re... aquatinted.”

Tim subtly kicks Dick’s leg under the table before turning back to you. “Are you hungry?” His blue eyes analysing you.

You shrug, leaning back and drumming your fingers against the table. “I could eat.”

Dick taps the table, leaning forward to get a better look at you. His eyes flicker with curiosity as his gaze roams over your form, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "What do you feel like eating?" he asks, watching you drumming your fingers against the surface of the table. Tim's expression changes to one of interest as he observes you as well.

The waiter, ever observant, takes this as a cue to approach the table. "What can I get you guys?" he asks, his voice cheerful.

Dick cocks his head, still watching you closely. "We'll have some coffee and some pastries to start," he replies, his gaze flickering back to your fingers tapping against the table.

Tim adds, "Make that two coffees and a basket of assorted pastries."

You nod in agreement with their exchange, letting your hands fall to your lap as you continue to follow the conversation. "Ah, I think I'll go for the milkshake of the day," you add, addressing the waiter who's been patiently waiting for your order. "And I'll take the café's specialty coffee as well, please." Dick almost coos at your manors.

The waiter smiles politely and nods, taking note of your order before hurriedly walking away to place the order. Meanwhile, Dick props his chin on his hand, a sly grin on his face. "Aren't you a polite one?" he teases you, eyes glinting with playful challenge.

Tim watches the interaction, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Have you had breakfast?” The question is thrown with an air of casualness, but you know he’ll give you that sad puppy face if you say no.

You sigh, nodding. “Yeah, my roommates big on the whole taking care of myself or whatever. He’s a hypocrite I tell you.” You cross your arms, leaning back.

Dick snickers at your comment about your roommate. "Sounds like a character," he remarks, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. A fond smile at the thought of Jason.

Tim, on the other hand, looks sympathetic. "I can relate," he says, shaking his head. "I've got a brother who's always nagging me about eating healthy and getting enough sleep."

A small huff escapes Dick's lips in response to Tim's words, though it's not loud enough for you to hear. His expression momentarily shifts, a pout crossing his features.

After a few minutes of quiet banter The waiter returns promptly with a serving plate stacked with various pastries. He places it on the table and then sets the drinks down in front of each of you. As the waiter walks away, Tim quickly grabs two of the pastries and places them on a plate in front of you. Pushing the white porcelain closer to you with his pointer and middle fingers.

Dick, meanwhile, takes a sip of his coffee, a pleasant hum leaving his lips. Watching the interaction fondly.

"Go on," Tim encourages, nudging the plate slightly towards you. "Make sure to eat." His gaze is firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

You glance down at the pastry, a feeling of warmth spreading through you at Tim's thoughtfulness. Before you can thank him, Dick interjects, a playful smirk on his face.

"Aww, look at that. Timbo's acting all chivalrous, ain't he?" he teases, elbowing Tim lightly in the side. Tim rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Can it, Dickhead," Tim mutters with no real heat behind his words, shoving Dick's hand off his shoulder. But it's hard to stay mad at Dick, especially when he has that charming smirk plastered on his face. He playfully ruffles Tim's hair, earning him a glare in return.

Dick just laughs, unfazed by Tim's retort. "Oh, don't be like that," he replies, a teasing grin plastered across his face.

Sensing the brewing banter, you take a sip of your milkshake, your attention flickering between the two.

Tim attempts to smooth his hair back into place, his gaze shifting to you. "Don't mind him," he says with another eye roll. "Dick's sense of humor never matured past the age of twelve."

Dick feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Hey, I'll have you know my sense of humor is top-notch," he retorts, a playful glint in his eyes.

Tim snorts, taking another sip of his coffee to suppress a laugh. "Sure it is," he says dryly. "If by top-notch you mean 'borderline obnoxious.'"

You can't help but chuckle at their banter, hiding your smile behind your milkshake.

The sound drawing the attention of the Wayne brothers as they turn their gazes to you. They watch you for a moment, their expressions softening at the sound of your laughter.

Dick's smirk widens as he observes your reaction, his gaze fixated on you. "Ah, there it is," he murmurs, his voice low and soft.

Tim, too, can't help but smile quietly as he watches you, his expression warm. There's an almost admiring look in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side, studying you closely.

You pick up the chocolate croissant, bringing it to your lips the pausing mid-bite as they’ve turned their attention to you.

Dick's eyes remain locked on you, watching as you pause in mid-bite. He leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand once more, a playful glint in his eyes. Something dark hidden beneath the ocean swirls of his irises.

Tim, too, observes you closely, his gaze lingering on your face. There's an intensity in his gaze that was absent earlier; it's calculating, almost. A subtle hint of possessiveness in the depth of his eyes. He seems to be analyzing your every expression with a keen interest, as if trying to uncover some hidden secret. He lifts the coffee to his lips, taking a long sip and averting his attention elsewhere.

"You gonna eat that or just stare at it?" Dick teases, gesturing towards the croissant you hold in your hand. His tone is light, but the intensity in his gaze belies the lightheartedness of his words. It’s a subtle warning to eat.

You roll your eyes at the gesture, taking a bite into the pastry. It’s warm, freshly baked. The chocolate drizzled over the top as well as placed inside. It practically melts into your mouth. You bring a hand up to cover your mouth as you eat, hiding the grin. “It’s alright.” You lie through your teeth. It’s amazing. But you wouldn’t give the overprotective guys the satisfaction.

Dick snickers, seeing right through your lie. "Just alright, huh?" he says, feigning disbelief. He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tim, a knowing glint in his eyes, takes another sip of his coffee. He can tell you're enjoying the croissant, as evidenced by the gleam of chocolate around your lips. But he decides to play along, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe you're just too picky," he comments. They’ll get you a life time supply of these once the plan succeeds.

You hiss, putting the half eaten pastry down onto the plate and elbowing his side. Unaware of the chocolate on your face which makes it hard for them to take you seriously. “I am not picky.” You huff, crossing your arms.

Dick suppresses a laugh as he watches you pout, unable to resist teasing you further. He reaches forward, swiping a finger across your cheek to collect a bit of chocolate that's been left behind.

"Oh really?" he says, a smirk on his face. He uses a napkin to wipe off his finger. His eyes never leave your face as he does so.

Tim, sitting to your side, watches the exchange. There's a hint of amusement in his eyes, but he keeps his composure.

You pause, an embarrassed flush coming over your face. How long had that been there?

"You've got a little something right here," Dick says, tapping the corner of his own mouth, indicating where the chocolate is located.

Tim can't help but smirk at Dick's comment, his eyes flickering to your mouth and then back up to your eyes again. He takes another sip of his coffee, leaning back in his seat.

You brush a hand over your face, wiping away the excess chocolate. Though the movement only seems to smear it further.

Dick chuckles, unable to contain his amusement. His eyes roam over your face, taking immense pleasure in the flustered state you're in.

"Here, let me help," he offers, grabbing a napkin from the table. He reaches out, gently taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head towards him. With a gentle touch, he slowly wipes away the residual chocolate with the napkin.

You felt more embarrassed than anything, resting your head against the table afterwards. Feeling like you just wanted to evaporate into the air.

Dick laughs, his amusement clearly evident as you hide your face against the table. He pats your head affectionately, his touch gentle.

Tim watches you, his expression more subdued than Dick's. However, there's a hint of a smile on his lips, a gleam in his eyes that betrays his amusement.

Dick relaxes in the cafe’s empty booth, leaning back slightly as he glances around the room with a touch of impatience. His foot taps rhythmically against the floor, a subtle sign of his restless energy. His grip on his phone tightens as his eyes remain fixed on the screen, watching the blinking red dot on the small map come closer and closer. His fingers tense around the phone's edges, his impatience growing with every passing moment.

As the blinking red dot reaches its destination within the bakery, Dick places his phone face down on the table and casually pretends to check over the menu’s items, feigning indifference despite his growing restlessness. He tries to act nonchalant, as if his mind isn’t anxiously anticipating your arrival.

Dick senses the familiar presence approaching, the shadows in the cafe becoming longer and stretching over his table. He manages to hide his growing excitement, attempting to feign nonchalance, but his giddiness is almost palpable. He looks up from the menu he was pretending to study, his smile betraying him.

He quickly rises from his seat, his body brimming with anticipation. Without hesitation, he opens his arms wide, the eagerness evident on his face as he waits for their baby birds embrace. Practically preening when you bury your face in his chest. He’s sure you can hear his heart going a mile a minute. You fit so snugly in his arms, like you were made to be there. His baby sibling.

He meets Tim’s crazed eyes, a dark grin crossing both of their features. He mouths slowly. ‘All good?’

His younger brother nods, fishing out his phone from his pocket to display the vitals silently. You were good, healthy. He hastily hides his phone once you pull away.

Dick almost lets out a whine. Why don’t you want to stay in his arms, baby bird? Can’t you tell you’re made to be there? Dick struggles to release you from his embrace, his arms reluctantly letting go as he allows you to squeeze yourself into the booth beside him. He manages to put some distance between you and himself begrudgingly, his eyes flickering to your face for a brief moment before shifting his attention to Tim.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He gazes at you with a soft smile on his face, resting his head on his palm as his thumb absently runs over the carved lines on the tabletop. Although he tries to hide it, there's a hint of a pout forming on his lips, clearly displeased by the fact that you've moved away from him. However, he brightens when you don't pull away and instead lean into him when his knee pushes gently against yours in a silent display of affection. Enjoying the proximity.

A comfortable silence runs over the table, a possessive smile on the brother’s faces as they watch you intently. Sitting there so perfectly, your nails picking at a screw on the bottom of your laptop. He shifts closer once you clear your throat, his baby blue eyes honing in on your form. His pupils dilated.

He lets out a content sigh at the sound of your voice. So melodic, it reels him in.

"You both are staring at me like you have something to say," Dick observes you intently, noticing the way you begin to pick at your sweater instead. He can see the anxious habit forming, and silently wishes he could reach out and gently grab your hands to stop you. However, he resists the impulse and simply watches you, his gaze filled with a mixture of concern and affection. He’ll help you with that destructive habit once you’re home, he promises, little bird.

Dick's gaze turns to Tim, a silent silent exchange taking place between the brothers. Dick raises a questioning eyebrow, his grin widening when Tim responds with a subtle nod. Their expressions betraying their shared excitement.

"Ah, sorry about that. Got a bit lost in thoughts." Dick speaks, his voice tinged with a hint of humor. Fondness evident.

“Right...”

Dick's eyes narrow as you sit up, shifting your position and inadvertently pulling your knee away from him. A wave of disappointment washes over him, and he has to bite back the urge to command you to put your knee back where it was. He tries to mask his frustration, his expression remaining neutral, but a subtle tension is evident in his body language. “Oh, sorry. You guys know each other right? I’m sure Timmy-boy has at least one of your classes?”

Dick relaxes a little at the sound of your voice, he grins at Tim's nickname, clearly amused by it. However, his laughter is abruptly cut off as he catches the disapproving look his brother gives him. Immediately sensing the tension, he composes himself, his grin quickly turning into a more subdued smirk. “Yeah,” Dick looks you over calculatingly for a moment, his eyes studying you intently as he tries to choose his words carefully. He pauses for a moment before speaking up, his voice measured and deliberate. “We’re acquainted.”

Dick's attempts to maintain a serious expression falter as Tim shoots him another pointed look and kicks his shin. He can't help but grin, finding his brother's disapproving glances more amusing than anything. He rubs his leg, the younger vigilante having not held back.

“Are you hungry?” His brother questioned, his gaze shifting back to you. You have to be hungry, Dick thought. Jason said you had eaten nearly five hours ago. They can’t let their little bird starve!

When you shrug their eyes narrow, the drumming of your fingers catching their attention. “I could eat.” Your voice broke the silence.

Dick coos. It’s okay, you don’t have to downplay how much you need food. We’ll look after you.

"What do you feel like eating?" Dick's voice comes out slightly breathless as he speaks, his words spoken with conviction. He knows your power over them, and he would do just about anything for you within reason. The cafe is no exception, and he knows that they would probably buy the place in a heartbeat if you so much as hinted at wanting it.

Dick glances at you as you silently scan the menu, his eyes locking onto Tim's right after. A silent conversation takes place between the brothers, their expressions communicating silently what their words can't. Tim then shifts his attention towards the waiter, gesturing for them to come over, while you remain focused on the menu options in front of you.

The waiter, ever observant, takes this as a cue to approach the table. "What can I get you guys?" he asks, his voice cheerful.

They wanted to cut the waiters throat out for the way you flinch at his unexpected presence. Too engrossed in the pictures on the menu to notice the world around you. Snapped out of it by his feigned cheerfulness. You probably hadn’t even noticed your own reaction, seeing how you instantly smiled up at him after.

You needed their protection, that was abundantly clear.

He clocks his head, not sparing the waiter a second glance. "We'll have some coffee and pastries to start," his gaze flickers back to your fingers tapping against the table.

"Make that two coffees and a basket of assorted pastries." Tim adds.

"Ah, I think I'll go for the milkshake of the day," you add, addressing the waiter. "And I'll take the café's specialty coffee as well, please." Dick has to hold back his coos at your manors. So polite.

He faintly hears the waiter’s descending steps. Dick props his chin back on his hand, a sly grin on his face. "Aren't you a polite one?" he teases you, eyes glinting. He’ll reward you for that later.

Tim watches the interaction, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Have you had breakfast?” The question is thrown with an air of casualness. As if the brothers weren’t already informed.

“Yeah, my roommates big on the whole taking care of myself or whatever. He’s a hypocrite I tell you.” You cross your arms, the childish action making Grayson want to squish your cheeks and hold you close. His baby bird is so cute, complaining about big brother. Not that you were aware that they were yet.

"Sounds like a character," He grins sharply, his eyes softened at the thought of Jason.

"I can relate," Dick’s attention is drawn to Tim as he speaks, the other boy shaking his head. "I've got a brother who's always nagging me about eating healthy and getting enough sleep."

He nearly squabbles. He does not nag. He huffs, crossing his arms at Tim’s words. A pout tugging at his bottom lip.

The rest of the conversation goes like a blur to Dick, coming so naturally to him, as if he was simply bantering with his family. Which he was. No one could tell him otherwise.

His attention is suddenly pulled back to reality as he notices the chocolate smeared across your face childishly, like a fussy child. You feel Dick's thumb gently wipe at your face, clearing away the smeared chocolate. There's something almost instinctual about his gesture, as if it comes naturally to him, like he's done it countless times before.

Dick chuckles as he responds to your surprise, a smirk dancing on his lips. He dabs at his finger with a napkin, his eyes fixed intently on your face as he cleans off the chocolate smudges. There's a hint of playfulness in his gaze.

Dick leans forward slightly, his gaze still fixated intently on your face. He notices the way your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, and his eyes gleam with amusement. A delighted smirk spreads across his face, his eyes never leaving yours as he observes your flustered state. There's no denying it - you were the epitome of cuteness as a younger sibling. Your chaotic charm and antics had Dick and Tim wrapped around your little finger, and the two brothers couldn't help but adore every single moment.

"You've got a little something right here," Dick says, tapping the corner of his own mouth.

Tim couldn’t help but smirk at Dick's comment, his eyes flickering to your mouth and then back up to your eyes again. He takes another sip of his coffee, leaning back in his seat.

Their gazes softening further as you attempt to rid your face of the chocolate only to smudge it further.

"Here, let me help," he offers, grabbing a napkin from the table. He reaches out, gently taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your up head towards him. It’s hard to think straight with you looking up at him with that pout and flushed cheeks. Like a little kid clinging to their old brother after having a nightmare. How he wishes he had met you as a kid. He slowly wipes away the residual chocolate with the napkin. Hesitantly to let go.

The brothers let out hearty laughter at the sight of you burrowing your head into the table. They could practically see you trying to will yourself to disappear. Tim grins fondly, shuffling closer. Dicks own hand moving out to pay your head softly. Their touch affectionate and gentle. They wanted to see you like this all the time.

No use of y/n, no use of any descriptive features for the reader, no gender mentioned.

I tried to make the POV’s show the difference in how they interpret things. For example, where you may perceive Tim’s expression as a smile, Dick sees it as something dark. You pay more attention to Tim so he’s mentioned more, Dick pays more attention to you so you’re mentioned more.

Tim Drake is mentioned as ‘Mr Wayne’ because I’d assume that he’d be judged based on his family rather than his actual name.

Should I make a tag list? Would anyone even want to be put on a tag list for this?

Comments and questions are really appreciated!

[kakiastro]

Astrology Notes:

Mercury Edition

This is what my astrology notes look like lol

-People who have a Mercury-Uranus aspect can indicate having lots of intelligence. These are the “mad geniuses” of our world. These native may have lots of ideas on how to help humanity as a whole. You might be in a lot of controversies over your words or be misunderstood. On the flip side of this aspect, this can indicate someone who has a strong knowledge of it all personality and don’t want to hear others options. May get offended easy and loves to argue.

-Mercury/Moon aspect natives need to control their emotions before they speak especially if you have it in a harsher aspect like a square or opposition. You may get flustered or your feelings may get hurt easily. These natives are sensitive to words, they may act like they don’t care but it definitely hurt their heart. On the flip side, they may be mostly the quiet type of people. Once they open up, it’s like a whole different person lol. They also have a strong intuition, they understand people more than they let on. They also have a soft spot for babies and young kids.

-Mercury Capricorn/10h natives has a lot of wisdom within them. They start learning harsh lessons during there early years. Usually by the time they reach their first Saturn return, they may sound like a retired 60 year old giving out advice due what they’ve endured 😅 Capricorn rules over time, so as they get older, the more introspection they have on the word. These are the perfect natives to receive advice from because of the lived experience. On the flip side, if these natives use their words or actions to hurt others, it will come back. Capricorn is one of the “power” placements , hence why it rules the 10h(highest point our chart) so moral of the story, use your words for good. Make stretching your daily routine, your cap Mercury will one day thank you. Also, take care of your teeth, even if you can’t afford to go the dentist , brush them and floss.

-Mercury/Jupiter aspect natives have a thirst for knowledge and seeking the truth. They don’t believe in the theory “not everything has an answer.” Because to them it does, you’re just too stupid to them to find it but they will😅don’t lie, y’all know it’s true! These natives will make excellent historians, professors, gurus, researchers, writers. They are pretty open about their beliefs and don’t mind debating you about them.

-Mercury Pisces/12h natives occasionally experience brain fog😅 they have the ideas and creativity but they’re time when their brain is filled with smoke😭 sometimes they just be talking and we don’t know what their talking about but they have beautiful voices so we let it slide lol. Speaking of voices, they are incredibly singers, like you just get lost or hypnotized by their words. Listening to frequency music or Lo-fi songs will help soothe y’all mind. Take care of feet, clip your big toe nail and put some lotion on them. Don’t be out here with goblin feet😭

-Mercury Sagittarius/9h natives loves foreign cultures and always traveling some damn where chile😅 these natives are either anti-religious or very religious. They may also just like studying religion as an interest without really holding those beliefs themselves. May have lots of father figures growing up. May have their own library of books and publications they love to keep. These natives, like Capricorn are also good at giving advice because they’re constantly researching or reading to find answers. Take care of y’all legs by stretching, running, even if you’re disabled, if you can, physical therapy or someone you trust can stretch your legs for you. I know everyone circumstances is different and that’s ok! Do what you can with what you got!

-Chiron Gemini /3h words can be so healing but triggering at the same time. They tell it like it is and it can sting but at the same, their advice can help the collective. They may have a wound with a sibling(s) . They could’ve been bullied in elementary school. These people at their best, turn their pain into healing and help others. They may understand the misunderstood people in our world. At worst, they use their pain to hurt others , they may have started out doing that but then started learn and heal. It really depends on the person because we all have free will.

-Chiron is said to associated with Virgo since it’s a healer astroid. It’s also associated with Sagittarius because he’s a teacher and a centaur which are ruled by Jupiter.

-Mercury/Venus natives have such beautiful voices and has a way with words😍these are the true charmers, they way that they can make you fall in love with them with just their voice and words. If they decided to write a book, it would get lots of attention especially if they write romance and poetry.

-Mercury Aries’s /1h natives loves cussing and has a potty mouth on them for sure 😅y’all put a sailor to shame. They may come off as brash with their words even though they mean well. You just have to listen to the words and not the tone sometimes😅. I also notice these natives tend to get lots of headaches or migraines with this placement.

I’ll stop here but I might make a part 2 to this. Let me know what Mercury placements or aspect you want me to make note on. I’m also open for paid readings if you’re interested!

[wereallydobevibing]

Too Young | John Price x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write your ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: Age Gap

“Welcome home, Captain.”

As he falls back in his seat, his gaze lifts to meet yours - his little muse behind a marble counter, his favorite bartender at his favorite bar. 

“That’s John to you, sweetheart,” He says, and he watches with satisfaction as you wordlessly pour out his usual drink without even having to ask what he was having.

You were a young girl, early twenties, working towards your bachelors at the nearest university, but before that, you’d gone to trade school. You were a hard worker; doing hair in the morning, attending classes in the noon, closing the bar at night, studying any minute that was free. 

I’ll breathe when I have everything I want, you told him one night, when he noticed how your shoulders seemed to be heavy with the weight of your profusion of responsibilities. He wished he could help you carry some of them, or at least blow some air into those lungs that seemed to collapse whenever finals came around. 

John admired you – sweet, smart, and focused. He would’ve liked to have you on his Taskforce if that’d been that path that you chose, but, for the sake of flirting, perhaps bartending was the better option. 

He’ll miss you when you graduate and go off to start a new chapter in your life. 

You set the drink down on the counter, pushing it forwards and leaning your weight on your elbows. It was a slow night, but you figured now that John Price was here to pay you his company, time would tick faster than you wanted it to. 

The first hour and a half of his visit is a basic conversation – how was deployment, how does it feel to be home, how long before his next call in? He talks a little about his team – you’ve heard about “Soap” and “Ghost” and “Gaz” many times before, Price only ever allows you to know them by their callsigns, though, for privacy's sake, and only tells you very minor details. But after one or two glasses, Price allows himself to be free of his professional nature. His 141 men know 

“How come you never bring your boys around here, Captain?” 

“John,” You’re leaning so closely, he’s able to flick your nose as he corrects you. Not too hard, but very much playful. “And if I brought my boys around here, they’d never leave. Soap might steal my favorite girl.”

“Your favorite girl is too busy to be stolen, John,” You remind him, and you don’t say I’m too busy trying to give myself to you.  

Closing time comes all too quickly, as you figured it would. On a Monday night, there are generally very few customers, and you’re able to start your side work at exactly eleven o’clock. John sticks around as you clean up and count the register, offering his company. Being that he was such a regular, he even knows where to find the broom and shortens your to-do list by sweeping the floor. 

This is your favorite part, when you lock up the door and begin your walk home with Captain John Price at your side, allowing you to hook your arm through his. Like a gentleman, he’s always happy to walk you home. 

“No boyfriend, yet, [Y/N]?” He says, lighting a cigar, “No one to tell me off for walking so close to their girl?”

You giggle, “No boyfriend. If I did, though, I don’t think you’d be one to be worried about it. Unless it was that guy you mentioned earlier – Soap? Maybe you could introduce us?”

“He’s too much fun, I think,” John sniggered.

“Are you saying I’m too serious?”

“Serious enough, fun enough. Soap is too much fun.”

 “Aww,” You feign a pout, “You don’t want me to like him, do you?”

As you finally approach your apartment door, John lightly shoves you toward it. He pulls the cigar away from his lips, leaning against the wall with a smirk. 

“You can have that one if you want, love,” he says, “Don’t come bothering me when you’re with him, though. Can’t have both.”

“No, I couldn’t,” You agree, you gesture to your apartment, “You won’t let me let you in.”

He hums, watching you unlock and push open the door. You lift your eyes to gaze up at him through your lashes, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. 

“Come have a glass with me, John, I can bartend for you here, too.”

The back of his hand reached out, stroking the subtle skin of your cheek. He would love to come inside and know the structure of your home, and the decorations that would be a complimentary extension of your personality. When it came to you, he was Pandora and you were his box. 

You were a beautiful girl, and the thought of having your company outside of your work hours was enticing. He wanted to know you like the back of his own hand, he wanted to see what was inside this box, but John knew better than to cross this line – that line being your doorway. 

Oh, how he wished he was at least ten years younger. 

“You know I can only go so far with you, love,” He says, taking another draw from his cigar. “Your doormat is the limit.”

It’s not the first time you heard that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As mentioned earlier, you were an ambitious girl; you were often berated in your early childhood by your mother for trying to get away with the same stuff over and over and over again until you finally learned the secret to getting away with your innocent little crimes successfully.

As you said once before, you’ll breathe when you have everything you ever wanted. 

Blaze

0 notes

[strang3lov3]

Invisible Line

Summary- Boundary after boundary is crossed when your boss is left with no choice but to share his bed with you.

Roman Roy x F!Reader | 5.8k words

Tags- one bed trope mothafuckas!! mutual masturbation, unprotected piv, cream pie, oral (f receiving), come eating, dirty talk, soft dom!roman, power imbalance, needy and desperate reader, light degradation, manipulative Roman, Roman’s not the nicest but he does let you snuggle him

A/N- This is my first Roman Roy fic, so please be gentle 🫣 I know he’s got his issues with sex, so just play pretend with me. My usual Joel readers, I haven’t forgotten about you, he’s cumming soon 🫡🍆 but if you were feeling so inclined I’d appreciate it if you gave Roman a chance 🥺🩷

I had a fucking team of editors for this fic!! Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal, @papipascalispunk, @beefrobeefcal and @pinkypromisepascal for polishing this baby up

Fic notifs, Masterlist, Ko-Fi

You’ll never get used to the type of hotels you now stay in. All the lights glittering, floors shining, ceilings so high. You’d call it luxurious, but to your boss, Roman, this is considered modest. You’re always reminded that you and he come from two very different worlds.

As his assistant, you’re accompanying him on his “bullshit amusement park safety meeting in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere,” as Roman had so graciously put it. He’s got such a way with words. He’s exaggerating of course, always so hyperbolic. You’re not in the middle of nowhere, you’re in Nashville, Tennessee. It’s early June and the air is finally beginning to cool for the evening.

“We’re fully booked,” the receptionist says to you after first explaining that no, there’s no mix up of sorts, you had only booked one room and not two adjoining rooms like you’d thought. 

Just fifteen minutes earlier, you helped Roman with his bags and such up to his room. Roman carried the heaviest of his own bags to be a gentleman, call it his soft spot for you or whatever, but just to be a dick, still had you carry his briefcase that he was more than capable of carrying on his own. It is your job, after all. 

When you arrived with him to the spacious room, decorated with abstract wall art and odd sculptures, Roman wasted no time in flopping on the single king sized bed. After seeing no door to connect to an adjoining room, Roman sent you back to reception. “Well, better figure it out,” he said, waving you away, his eyes never once looking away from his phone screen. “I’m set here, so thanks. You can go fuck off. Have a nice evening and all that. Enjoy masturbating in your crispy white bed sheets, courtesy of Hyatt hospitality.” Always so vulgar. You’re not shocked by it anymore. 

“Nothing?” you ask the receptionist. “There’s no way. I just need a single queen, I don’t care what floor it’s on. Isn’t there something?”

“Bonnaroo,” the receptionist explains, once more typing on her keyboard to double check and see if there’s a room for you. “Yeah, I’m sorry, we don’t have any other rooms available. Bonnaroo weekend is always when we’re busiest. People book months in advance. I wish I could help you,” she frowns apologetically. 

You’re not upset. It’s your own fault. And you’d seen Bonnaroo posters around the lobby advertising the shuttle that transports people from the hotel to the festival. And you’d seen the headliners, too. Radiohead, Red Hot Chili Peppers, LCD Soundsystem. Friday and Saturday tickets are sold out. You’re not surprised it’s all booked.

“No, I know,” you reply. “It’s my fault.”

You sigh deeply, and the receptionist types into her computer, prints a piece of paper and hands it to you. “This is a list of hotels nearby. Call around, they might have something.” She wishes you good luck, and you pull out your phone to begin making the calls, only then realizing your battery is at 2%. Now you have nowhere to go but back to Roman’s room.

–

You knock on Roman’s door and wait. Nothing. You knock once more, nothing again. You’re about to knock for a third time when Roman finally opens, his shirt a few buttons undone and his belt loosened. “What do you want?”

“Can you let me in?” you ask, “I need to use your phone, please.”

Roman’s taken some getting used to. You never quite know where you stand with him, what exactly he thinks of you. Moment to moment, you never know which Roman you’re gonna get – the flirting Roman, the occasional sweet and tender Roman, or the cold, sarcastic, uncaring and taunting Roman.

 “Can you let me in?” Roman mocks, opening his door wider and guiding you into his room with his hand on your lower back. Taunting Roman. His touch makes your tummy flutter. Something about his unpredictability thrills you, excites you. You’re attracted to it, and you don’t know why. 

Your phone charges by a nearby outlet as you sit at the desk with the room phone as Roman paces around, rifling through his suitcase to find his pajamas. They’re simple looking clothes, pale blue bottoms and a plain white shirt, but you know the cost of the outfit is equivalent to someone’s rent. He changes in front of you, something he’s always done. You’re not exactly sure why he does that or what he’s trying to do, but you do your best to not steal any glimpses of him as you begin calling the numbers on the paper, though the task proves to be difficult. Flirting Roman?

The first hotel on your list is The Hermitage, which is a bust. The Joseph is also a bust. Conrad Nashville, same deal. You’re keeping your voice as low as possible, hoping Roman doesn’t overhear your conversation. The last thing you want to do is give him more ammo. You sigh as you cross out the names on the paper one by one with one of the hotel’s branded pens.

Roman’s on the bed, smirking, rolling his eyes. You can see it in your peripherals. “You fucked up, didn’t you? Forgot to book yourself a room?” 

“Shut up,” you mumble, now calling the fourth and final hotel on your list. 

“You shut up,” Roman says. “Told you to double check.”

You wave a hand in his direction to quiet him. After asking your now three times rehearsed ‘Do you have any rooms available?’ and being met with an apology and a no, you reply to the person on the other end of the call with a “Yup, Bonnaroo, understood. Thank you.” Sighing, you hang up the phone and bury your face in your palms. You know what your only option is here, and you’re scared to look at it, to look at Roman. You know that even if you don’t verbally ask, your eyes will say it all. 

  Roman slides off the bed and makes his way to you, then nudges your foot with his own. “Am I doing you a favor tonight?” 

“I uh…”

“Oh, of course I am. Good thing I’m feeling generous, huh?” Roman’s lips are curled into an almost-sweet smile when you finally look at him. “Bed is mine,” he enunciates. “You can take the floor, I don’t care. Or push those chairs together or some shit.” You look at the chairs he’s referring to and nod. Roman goes back to his bed, and you pull your own set of pajamas from your suitcase, then change in the bathroom. Once out of the bathroom, you push together the chairs that Roman was referring to.

“Oh god, I didn’t think you’d actually do that. No, no, I was just joking – we’ll share the fucking bed. Yeah?” Roman pats the other side of the bed. “I’m not cruel like that, Christ. Making me feel like some fuckin’ sort of - sort of sadist. Not gonna bite you.”

“Won’t you?” you tease. 

That was the wrong thing to say. Your blood goes cold as Roman glares at you, displeased with your teasing. Reminding you of your place, that even though Roman can joke, make however many unsavory comments as he’d like, you can’t always do the same. Cold Roman. But then Roman cracks a smile, flashing his pretty white teeth and winks, his eyes sparkling. The boss-employee dynamic between you and him is always inconsistent, things going from professional to unprofessional, from friendly to friendlier.

He pulls the covers down the bed, once more patting the space next to him, indicating his invitation for you to join him. You round the bed and slide under the covers, the sheets feeling cool against your bare feet and legs. “You’ve got ulterior motives, don’t you? You fucked up the booking on purpose.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed. “No, Roman.”

“You totally did,” Roman says as you adjust the pillows behind you, “You’re trying to entrap me. You’ve weaseled your way into my bed so you can sue me later for harassment or some shit but I’m telling you, it’s not gonna happen. Trust me when I say that it’s in your best interest to behave yourself.” Roman drags his finger down the center of the bed, bisecting it evenly. “Don’t cross this line. Not even your fuckin’…pinky finger. Got it?”

“Understood, Mr. Roy.”

“Attagirl,” he chirps. “Wait, ew. Jesus Christ, Roman, you call me Roman. Not that Mr. Roy shit. God, that’s gross.”

You’ll take any chance you can to get under his skin after all he does to you. Flipping over on your side, you face the window and watch the city lights dance before pulling out your phone and silently scrolling through Instagram. Roman does similar, though he doesn’t reciprocate the courtesy of doing so quietly. He watches videos at full volume, shaking the bed with his giggles. 

You shift to your other side, now facing Roman, who lays on his back. Your phone rests on the bed as you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks. You don’t often see him look relaxed like how he does now – how sexy he looks in those thin pajamas of his, his biceps toned and his bulge protruding from beneath the fabric of his pants. His usually sleek hair is slightly messy, and you wonder how those silky strands would feel between your fingers as you tug on them, with him holding you close in a tight embrace and his lips connected to yours, swallowing your moans. 

You tell yourself not to think about it, about him. Don’t think, don’t think, god, do not think about him. Don’t think about his thick bulge or his hands or their wrinkles, the bluish-green veins that climb up his knuckles. Don’t think about his waist, don’t think about his soft tummy, or the thin line of hair leading down his groin and beneath his pants. 

Roman’s looking at you, wearing that sly, cocky grin of his, pleased with the knowledge of what he does to you. He shuts his phone off and turns off the light on his nightstand, the faint glow coming from the open curtains now the only light.

He doesn’t take long to drift into a slumber, though you do, still thinking of the things you shouldn’t be. Images of Roman still dance in your mind for hours, you watch the time go by when you check your phone’s lock screen. You hear his voice in your head, that two word instruction from him playing over like a broken record. Behave yourself. And god, you can fucking smell him. He smells clean, like he always does, with notes of Caroline Herrera’s Bad Boy filling your nostrils – a cologne with a truly obnoxious bottle and an even more obnoxious name. Roman picked it out one time you were with him while he was shopping, just to piss you off. You’ve never hated the smell, though, and you love it even more on his skin. But he smells like sweat too, just a bit. So masculine and slightly musky, you can almost taste him. 

Your hand has moved on its own accord underneath your shirt and between your breasts. You’re not sure when it happened, but you become acutely aware of it when your knuckles brush against your nipple and you gasp. 

Roman stirs in his sleep, but he’s dead to the world. And you’re good at keeping yourself quiet – at least you think you are. 

You turn your head to look at Roman, pinching and twisting at your nipples. Alternating between soft and hard, gentle and rough touches. Roman’s got his arm draped over his head, his palm so close to you. You imagine it’s that hand, his hand, squeezing and groping the soft flesh of your breasts, pretending that tingling feeling when you drag your thumbs over your sensitive buds is his tongue, all hot and wet. You let yourself breathe, the quietest moans escaping your lips. 

And then you let your fingers dip lower, your fingertips skating down your body, feeling your sides and the soft curve of your tummy, your hips. Your hand goes lower and lower, your thighs parting as you find your core but not moving your legs wide enough to cross Roman’s invisible line. Tracing your lips first, your fingers travel closer to where you need to feel them the most. You’re wet, so fucking wet as you press your middle finger against your hole, collecting your slick and dragging it up to your clit.

You shift in the bed, spreading your legs wider and now circling your clit with your middle and ring fingers, dipping them into your entrance once more to gather your arousal and drag it up through your folds. Massaging yourself, you still pretend it’s Roman’s hand as you take in that sweet feeling that’s quickly beginning to build in the pit of your stomach. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each circle of your fingertips on your clit, fighting yourself to keep your hips as still as can be.

Romans voice startles you. “For a second I wondered if we’re near a fuckin’... earthquake, or uh– fault line or something, but you’re just rubbing one out next to your boss. Wow. Do you always shake the bed this much when you masturbate?” 

You gasp, “Roman.”

“Or just when you’re next to me?” You’re not really sure what the right move here is. You could pull your hand from under your pants, but Roman’s already caught you red handed. Leaving your hand between your thighs is not the right move either. “Funny,” he adds, “I thought we just had a conversation about behaving. Didn’t we?”

“I know, I–”

“I mean, you get brownie points for not crossing the line in the bed, I guess,” Roman lifts the covers of the bed, then reaches for your knee and gently pushes it back on your side of the bed. “But you are crossing all sorts of other lines. You must think you’re sneaky. I heard you moaning, you know,” he accuses. He mocks you then, all snark and derision as he lets out exaggerated and breathy moans you’re almost sure you weren’t making. Roman, oh, Roman! Yeah, right there, Roman, please…

 “Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?” he asks as he reaches for your jaw with one of his hands, turning you to look at him. He pinches, fingertips digging into the softness of your cheeks. No hiding now. “Is that what gets you off?” 

“No,” you stammer. 

“Liar.”

The air feels thick and Roman’s hazel eyes are dark, inky black, perhaps from the lack of light or maybe, you think, his own arousal? No, probably not. He looks genuinely pissed and you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, his intense gaze making you squirm. But you can’t seem to look away, either. He allows a silence to hang heavily between you both as he stares at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. And that’s when you notice it – with the hand that’s not holding your jaw, he’s stroking his cock underneath his pants. You can see the bulge, the shifting of his hand. 

“You’re touching yourself too,” you point out.

“Yeah, now I am. I’m a man. You made blood rush to my penis with your fucking moans and your Roman this and Roman that,” he huffs. Pulling down his pants and letting his cock spring free, he continues, “So my dick is hard. It should be your problem to deal with, but I’m bailing you out yet again. Always cleaning your— fuck,” he stutters, “Your messes.”

You have no clue what’s happening here. Roman lets go of his cock for a moment and he reaches for your arm, guiding you to start moving your hand once again. “Get it out of your system,” he says. “Go on. You didn’t have an issue fucking yourself next to me five minutes ago, did you?”

Cautiously, as with Roman you know full well that this could be a trap, you begin to move your hand with his guidance. “Yeah, good girl,” he whispers in a hushed, almost imperceptible tone, one that you probably weren’t supposed to hear. “God, I can’t believe you,” he says more clearly this time. “You better make it quick. We’re getting this over with, and we’re not looking at each other. Call it your punishment or something, just fuckin’—  take care of yourself.”

Roman adjusts so he’s flat on his back and resumes stroking his cock. His eyes are screwed shut and you’re watching his chest rise and fall, fully breaking the rule he just set. But you can’t help yourself, he looks so gorgeous like this. His pubic hair is longer than you would have expected Roman to have, but gorgeous nonetheless. He’s not the longest but his head is wide and round, with thick veins climbing his shaft. 

“You’re watching, you fucking creep,” he says in a breathy tone, his words slightly broken. He’s not looking at you, only at the ceiling above. “Breaking the rules. You have a hard time with that, don’t you? Look, I can follow rules. Why can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. 

Roman rolls his eyes at that, then flips on his side to finally look at you. A flicker of what looks to be relief quickly washes over his features, but quickly disappears. He reaches for your shirt, hiking it up your torso and tugging – up, take it off. You do as he asks, taking off your top and exposing your breasts to the chill of the air in the hotel room. 

“I hope you know that I’m not gonna touch you,” Roman says. 

“I know,” you breathe. “I know you won’t, I just, I just…”

“Just what?” Roman asks, still stroking his cock. You take off the rest of your pajamas and adjust yourself slightly, then spread your legs wide, the invisible line be damned as your knees fall back toward your chest and you rub your swollen clit. God, how you need his fingers inside you. You’d fuck yourself on your own fingers, but it won’t satisfy you in the way you think Roman could. “Spit it out,” Roman demands. 

Fuck it. You’ll deal with whatever consequences later. In the boldest of moves, you reach for the hand that strokes his cock and bring it to your pussy, guiding Roman’s middle and ring fingers to your entrance and pushing them inside. 

Roman wears a twisted sort of smile as he curls his fingers inside you, now playing his own game with you. He taunted you with an accusation of ulterior motives, but it was all talk, like how most of Roman is. He suspected this before, but now he's certain: you have nothing but need for him. Amused by it, he’s now playing his game with you. As you moan for him he wonders, how much can he toy with you, drag this out? How much will you beg for him? Your hand is wrapped around his cock now by your own choice, he wonders how low will you sink, and how high will he feel by the end of whatever this is? 

You’re inching closer to him. Desperate. 

“Your hand is wrapped around my cock,” he whispers. “And you buried my fingers inside your cunt. Is something not clicking in that head of yours?”

“So good,” you breathe. You work his shaft, twisting your hand up and down. He’s thick, veiny, his head feels smooth in your palm. Roman’s touch is firm as removes your hand from his cock to hover it beneath your chin. “Spit,” he tells you. You’re so pliant, and do as you’re told, spitting into your own palm, Roman putting it back where he wants it. “Wow. I pull my cock out and you’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” 

All you do is nod. 

“God you’re soaked. Are you always this soaked for me? Just walking around all day, panties fuckin’ ruined?”

“Sh– shut up.”

Oh, you’ve still got some bite left. Roman wonders how quickly he can make that diminish. “Poor thing, did I hit a nerve? You wanna fuck me that badly? Are you really that desperate for your boss?” You say nothing, just inch even closer to Roman now. You hook a leg over his hip, moving your cunt towards what you need most from him, slowly guiding him in your hand ever closer to your entrance and hoping he’ll remove his fingers from you and replace them with his cock. And thank god, he does it. He pushes your hand away, gripping his member and notching the tip in your entrance. Fucking finally.

But he only collects your wetness on his tip, then spreads it down his shaft. He pushes his pelvis forward, rubbing his cock against your hooded clit and making you shiver. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he taunts, now dragging his cockhead down your dripping seam. 

“Roman,” you whine. 

“Roman,” he says, mimicking your whine, exaggerating how pathetic you sound. “Is that all you can say?”

“Fuck me,” you gasp. “Just fuck me, Roman.” 

“Yeah, I know. You know my name and how to nag me to fuck you. I get it. What you’re not getting is that I don’t care. It’s not gonna happen tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after that… Just gonna fuckin’ play with you like this,” he hums, now pushing his cock up against your clit again, tapping you. “Yeah, you’re good. This is… this is good. I’ve been so bored recently, you know? Wonder what happens when I do this,” Roman stops tapping his head against your sensitive clit, now sliding himself left and right across your sex. He bites his bottom lip when you gasp and squirm.

“I wonder if I could make you come just doing this,” he muses, continuing to tease you. “I know I could. I could blow my load on your pussy right now and make you clean up a mess for once. Is that what you need? For me to show you what you’re meant for?”

Maybe, you think. Maybe not. You don’t know what you think. You need his cock. Roman pushes himself forward, fitting just his head into your hole again. And you think it’s coming, the fullness, the pressure, the ache and the stretch and the burn. He’s bent on his two prior rules, but compromise never comes. He doesn’t give in to you. Roman’s grinning, giggling to himself as he draws his hips backward, denying you. Watching how you struggle for him, how you whine and squirm and push your hips towards him. “Is it?” he asks. 

“Fuck, is what?”

“Is that what you need?”

“Yeah, I need you to fuck me. Roman, please. Need it – need you inside.” 

 Roman pushes out an exhale somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Oh, that’s funny. That’s not what I asked at all. Is listening really that hard for you? What do they call that, tunnel vision but for hearing. Tunnel hearing? I don’t think that’s right.” 

“I’m sorry–”

“Google it for me.”

“Roman.”

“What the fuck do you think I hired you for? Google it. For me. Thanks.”

Roman lifts his dick again, rubbing it against your clit and then lining himself up again, all as you scramble for your phone and quickly open Safari. ‘Funnel visipn bur for hearin g’ is what you type, the combined sensations of Roman’s teasing and the too-bright screen making your task difficult. “Audi-auditory exclusion,” you manage to tell him. 

“Lemme see it,” Roman takes your phone from your hand, squinting at the screen. “Auditory exclusion is a form of temporary loss of hearing occurring under high stress,” he reads in his phony serious tone, still teasing you, bumping into your clit and then notching himself at your entrance, again and again and again. Giving you just a taste of what you know he could offer you instead. He’s opening Wikipedia now. “Auditory exclusion happens as a result of the physiological effects of the acute stress response, specifically an increased heart rate.”

“Fuck me, Roman, fuck me, please, I’m begging, please, please…”

“Begging’s nice, good. Very good. Very cute. But uh–” Roman points to your phone, “I’m busy reading here, so maybe quiet down. I really don’t want to hear it,” he laughs breathlessly, but nothing about this is funny to you. You’re in tears now. Tears of anger, frustration, shock. Roman lines up with your slick hole, just as he’s done repeatedly before. He notices your tears, “My god, you’re crying for it. So desperate, aren’t you?” he mocks your pout, wiping away your tears. You tell him you need him. “Need me? What a strong word. Yeah, I know that you need me. Message clear. God, you repeat yourself a lot. Fucking annoying.” 

Fuck this. Roman’s still on Wikipedia and down some rabbit-hole not even related to auditory exclusion. He’s stopped teasing you, his cock just resting, nestled at your entrance as he scrolls. And you take your chance. 

You reach for his shoulders and flip yourself so you’re above him, then sink down on his cock. Roman’s startled but he moans as he disappears into you and you sigh, finally feeling that stretch of his cock you’ve been craving since you don’t even know when – long before tonight. Roman watches where your body connects to his, seemingly shocked. He scoffs. “Oh, fuck you.”

Roman pushes your body off of his, he’s small but stronger than he looks. He flips you on your tummy and his touch is harsh but just what you need when he finally grabs your hips, placing his palm between your shoulder blades and forcing your chest down to the mattress. He was somewhat gentle when he was teasing you before, but all of that is gone now, as he lines up with your entrance and slams his hips into you, rocking you forward. He pulls out almost all the way before doing it again, harder. So many noises. You – gushing on his cock, moaning, crying out for him. Roman – his thighs slapping against yours, his grunts and his curses and breathy groans. The bed creaking with each of his thrusts. Roman fills you up better than you could imagine – fucking perfectly –hitting your walls, that sweet spot inside you. 

“So fucking wet for your boss. What’s that say about you, huh?”

Roman grips your hips tight – too tight. He’s denting his nails into your skin and it hurts, his thumbs are digging into your lower back. There’s no fluidity to his thrusts, no steady roll of his hips. Just Roman, parting your insides with the harsh rutting of his hips. His heavy balls swinging, bouncing against your clit, his soft tummy warm against your back. 

He sets a steady rhythm, a rhythm for his pleasure alone. Fucking you seemingly in two, exactly how you want it. Of course you want it this way. He can hear it in your muffled whimpers and cries, he wonders if the sheets are stained under your face, soaked with your tears. Roman holds your waist, forcing you up with your back against his chest. “Fuck,” you cry, and Roman wraps a hand over your mouth, the other is groping your breasts. Not that he doesn’t love the sounds you’re making for him, he just wants to give you another reminder of who’s in charge here – of how this is gonna go down, according to Roman. 

He tugs your earlobe between his teeth, his nose nudging your cheek. His mouth travels lower then, he bites at your neck where it meets your shoulders, the stubble on his cheeks scratching your skin. He’s sucking at your flesh hard enough to leave a mark – for what reason, he’s not entirely sure. To punish and to hurt you, humiliate you, maybe even mark you as his. It’s possessive and primal in essence, how the way you need him so fervently makes him feel powerful in a way he often does not. And you’re not helping your case at all, with your squirming and your whimpers only egging him on. You tried to take what you need from him, but he’ll drill into your head that you’ll only receive what he’s willing to give to you.

He wonders what comes after this. If you’ll turn on your side in bed, leaking with his come and hiding yourself from him, or if maybe you’ll cling to him instead. He knows that he’ll lay next to you after this and wonder what you’ll be like for the rest of this trip. Will you be shyer, about the same as usual, or maybe even bold? He’ll experiment with you, see how you react to a cold shoulder or a shower of attention. See what you’ll do when he squeezes your ass, or when sitting next to him in the car, the helicopter, or at dinner when his hand finds your thigh and inches closer to your sex. Will you lean into it? Will you squirm and push his hand away?

His hands travel along your sides and down your torso, he can tell you’re loving his touch. You’re shameless in your reaction to him, your pussy squeezing him, your wanton moans. Curious, Roman reaches for your clit just to see how you’ll respond. He teases you, tries to write his name with his fingertips into you. Lewd sounds of skin slapping skin, the obscenity of your pussy’s slick noises. He’s not going to last much longer, that is quite clear. 

He doesn’t care to try to make you finish first, as a gentleman should, although Roman nor anyone else would describe himself as such. You’re on his time. He knows how desperate you are to come, but he doesn’t care. He’ll get his first, something he doesn’t often get otherwise. And so his pace quickens, still biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck and shoulders. He bets that in all those late-night fantasies of yours about this moment, touching yourself in the dark, you didn't picture him being a biter. This much is evident with your pussy clenching on him and your short gasps showing your surprise. 

He savors that feeling in every inch of himself – the power he holds knowing you’re aching not only to come on his cock, but to feel his touch, to experience him. It’s still just a game to Roman. Maybe it’ll always be a game. He’s not sure yet. 

His cock twitches inside you, that warm and sticky feeling in his balls is beginning to crescendo. “I need to come,” you beg. “Roman, please make me come, I need-.”

“Shut up. I don’t care.”  Roman fucks you with frenzied thrusts, and he doesn’t pull out to stroke himself above you, doesn’t ask you if you’re on the pill or if you want him to come on your ass or your tits or in your mouth. Roman shamelessly lets himself go and fills you with his hot spend. His noises are like music as he comes inside you, melodic grunts and moans coming from deep within him. And you take it all, everything he gives you because that’s what you’re meant for. 

Roman takes heaving breaths above you, pulling out and his spend spills onto the comforter. He doesn’t give a shit. And as you collapse down onto your hands and knees you think that’s that, that he really doesn’t care. That all of this was probably about Roman savoring the feeling of having control over another person, and that dangling pleasure over her head is how he’ll get it. 

Roman climbs off the bed and you’re trembling. He flips you onto your back, pulls you forward by your legs so that your sex is centered with his face as he kneels at the edge of the bed. His mind has changed quickly – first he wanted to know what would happen if he didn’t make you come. He thought next about eating you out from behind, denying you connection as he tastes you, buries himself in your most intimate place. But you’ve done well for him, and it’s clear that you’ll take what he gives you at any cost. Roman watches you with hooded eyelids, offering you that connection as he brings his face to your center, licking a thick stripe up your cunt. Call it his soft spot. 

“Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”

Roman dives back into you, and you hesitate before reaching for his scalp. Tentatively, you do it anyway, just to see if he’ll react. He might smack your hands away, maybe he’ll place them down on the bed. You’re sure he won’t hold them. 

He lets your hands linger. Your fingers tug on those sleek strands of hair as he eats you, his scruff chafing your thighs. His eyes alternate between fluttering shut and peering up at you as dips his tongue into your entrance, licking his spend from your folds. He brings a hand to your cunt, two of his fingers pushing into your heat as his tongue dances circles around your clit. He’ll never tell you how sweet you taste on his lips. 

“Yes, oh god, Roman.” He’s kissing your cunt, lapping at your folds, his tongue teasing all of that sensitive flesh. His fingers curl inside you at the same time he sucks your clit between his lips, making you writhe for him. “Right there, Roman.” 

You’re not sure if he’s indulging himself or you at this moment. He eats you like a man starved, he eats you like it's his artwork. Nipping at your folds, his fingers inside you never once faltering their movements. You grind against his mouth as his tongue flicks and swirls. After all that’s taken place tonight, it doesn’t take you long to come. You bite down on your moans as pleasure washes over you, and you come on Roman’s tongue, gushing into the palm of his hand. When he’s ensured that he’s milked you entirely, he pulls away and takes his place back on his side of the invisible line. 

Roman had wondered if - once in bed - would you cling to him or turn away, but he doesn’t allow you that choice. Instead, he takes your wrist between his fingers as he turns away, curling on his side, effectively wrapping your body to spoon around his. He keeps your arm secured firm under his, tucked around his torso. Tender Roman. You’re on edge, he’s been relatively quiet this whole time, and you’re expecting some snarky comment or a vulgar insult. “I swear to god, I will smother you with my fucking pillow if you snore,” is all he says. His threat, albeit baseless, comforts you. 

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