#also he has permission to go to the kitchen so you know

[pangloss-artee]

i had an idea

[8rujaa]

my therapist really saved me….

[arieslost]

falling for you | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: you and oscar should be more than just friends, but neither of you realize it until you’re on vacation… and his girlfriend is there, too.

word count: 2,956

warnings: angsty moments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

PART TWO

shoutout to my dream journal- i got this idea from a dream i had in 2021. also disclaimer, i love lily, she’s so sweet. we’re pretending that oscar is dating someone else here ok thanks <33

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

For the first time in your life, you were regretting taking a vacation, and it was all Oscar Piastri’s fault.

Your family and the Piastris had been going on vacation together for as long as you could remember, and you’ve been best friends with Oscar for just as long. He was in the background of every defining moment of your life. He could say the same about you— best friends forever.

And then, like the idiot you are, you went and fell in love with him. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint how, or why, or when; all you knew was that you woke up on the second day of your vacation, walked into the kitchen, saw him pouring himself a bowl of cereal, and it hit you like a damn truck.

“Good morning, sweetie,” your mom says, barely noticing your slightly panicked expression as you realized that you were very much in love with your best friend.

“Morning,” you mumble back, unable to tear your eyes away from Oscar.

He notices you staring at him, your eyes as wide as saucers, and frowns. “You okay? There’s still some of this in the box, I saved it for you.”

Great. Of course he has to be so thoughtful all the time.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Thanks, Osc.” You squeeze his arm as you pass by. He smiles at you, like he always does when you do that, and you want to die a little.

Especially when his girlfriend enters the room.

It’s the first time either of you have a significant other during your annual vacation time, and while you had aggressively lobbied against it (Oscar obviously had no clue), your parents and his parents had agreed to let her come. You were furious about it for weeks and couldn’t figure out why.

Well, now you know.

You can’t even enjoy your cereal, especially not when she kisses Oscar for everyone to see and then makes direct eye contact with you and smirks when he’s not looking. So, you decide to spend the entire day completely Oscar-less, as much as you wish you could just have him all to yourself like you always do when you’re here.

The thing is, you’ve never liked his girlfriend, obvious reasons aside. Even before Oscar started dating her, you’d never gotten along with her. It was like she had a personal vendetta against you, and always tried her hardest to be touchy with Oscar whenever she saw that you were in her line of sight. The most infuriating part is that literally no one else ever notices her behavior except you. Not even Oscar, your so-called best friend. Normally, you’d go to him to vent about something like this, because he’s always understood you in ways that no one else ever will. Now he’s the last person you can go to.

It sucks. You’re angry at your parents, his parents, and especially him for asking if he could bring her along in the first place.

You end up spending your entire morning and most of the afternoon at the beach. You don’t put on enough sunscreen because there’s no one there to make sure you use the proper amount. You hate getting sunburn, but you’d take that over seeing Oscar with his girlfriend. By the time you get back to the rental, everyone is off doing their own thing. Your parents are putting together a puzzle in the living room. Oscar’s parents have the door to their room shut, and you can hear the TV playing. You don’t have the courage to go looking for Oscar himself– once you see that he’s not in your shared room, you know that he’s either out or in his girlfriend’s room. Either way, you don’t want to know.

That was another thing that makes you wish this vacation never happened: Oscar had been allowed to bring his girlfriend, but the only condition was that the two of them had to sleep in separate rooms. That meant the two of you shared a room like always, but that didn’t mean he didn’t take every possible chance he could to go to hers, meaning you’re alone most of the time.

You might as well just pack up and walk home to save yourself the struggle of five more days.

It doesn’t seem like anyone is around to hear, so you let out a loud, frustrated groan as you flop back onto your bed. You look to your right, past Oscar’s bed, at the flowy curtains hanging in front of the doors that lead to the deck outside. One of the doors is ajar, and the slight breeze makes the curtains flap gently.

“You okay, sweetie?” Of course your mom heard you from all the way down the hall.

“Yeah,” you reply in a way that makes it very obvious that you’re not okay.

“Ah, I know that tone.” Your mom says, crossing the room to sit at the foot of your bed. “You need a boyfriend. You wouldn’t be this mopey if you had someone here with you, too.”

Like Oscar does. “You’re telling me,” you scoff bitterly. “I guess I’ll try a little harder for next year.”

“Well, are there any boys you’re interested in?” She asks, rubbing your leg comfortingly.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, turning your head away from her so she can’t get a perfect view of your face heating up as you think about your best friend.

She hums. “Yeah, I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“It’s Oscar, isn’t it?”

You cover your face with your hands. “Ugh! Leave now, and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”

“Nice try.” Your mom pries your hands away and gives you a look. “I just don’t think it’s the best idea that you like Oscar. He doesn’t exactly have the most stable lifestyle.”

“He doesn’t need stability, he’s rich.” You shoot back. “I don’t even care about that, Mom. I’m not exactly interested in him because of his lifestyle.” You consider not saying it, but you’ll feel better getting it off your chest. “And his girlfriend is a bitch.”

“You’re right,” your mom says, and you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “I hate his girlfriend. I’ve always thought that you’re much better suited for him.”

“No kidding. Known him his whole life, everyone thought we were dating growing up, we’ve gone through just about everything together. I guess that simply doesn’t compare to the girl he’s known for five whole months.” You’re being snarky now, and you can’t find it in you to care. It should be you dating Oscar.

Everyone else seems to think so except him.

Your mom laughs, but in a way that you know that she agrees with you, as childish as you’re being. She continues to rub your leg, and the comforting motion has your eyes drooping. The stress of your newfound feelings and the warmth of the sun on your skin is more than enough to tire you out.

“Nap time?” She asks eventually, and you nod slowly.

“Mhmm.”

“I’ll come wake you up before dinner.” She kisses the top of your head, gets up, and then says something that has you wide awake. “Hey, Oscar. She’s sleeping.”

“Ah, okay. I’ll be quiet.” You hate the calming effect his voice has on you, even though now just looking at him has sent your heart racing.

One of them shuts the door, and shortly after you can feel the bed dipping under Oscar’s weight as he lays down next to you.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Missed you.”

I missed you more. Jerk.

“I know you’re awake,” he continues. “But you don’t have to talk to me.”

Good.

“I guess I deserve the silent treatment.”

Your resolve cracks a little, because he sounds genuinely upset. As much as you want to, you don’t open your eyes, but you do turn around to face him and move closer in the process. You can smell the faint traces of his cologne, and you have to fight a sigh of contentment. Damn him for always making you feel so safe. Besides, you’re a little cold now thanks to the air conditioning.

Your eyes nearly fly open in shock when he wastes no time in pulling you closer so you’re properly cuddled into his side and puts his arm around you. He lets out a breath, like he’s relieved, before he moves around a little and leans his head against yours.

The logical side of you is screaming to quit the sleeping facade and confront him right here and now about this rather intimate behavior, but the side of you that just discovered the strong feelings you harbor for your best friend tells you to just play along and enjoy whatever alone time you have with him. It’s not hard to pick which side to listen to.

The two of you stay this way for so long you start falling asleep again, and it only gets worse when he starts rubbing your back. It starts out very subtle; at first, his fingertips just move up and down along the fabric of your shirt. He stops for a moment, like he’s considering the outcomes of his actions, and then flattens his palm against your back and continues the up and down motion. You bury your head in his chest, mostly to hide the fact that you’re turning red but also because you just want to be closer to him. He hums a little when you do it, and you have to stop yourself from weighing the logistics of whether or not you could get away with kissing him right here and now.

You have to fight the urge to sleep, wanting to soak in every moment of his strange but welcome actions. Maybe this is all just an elaborate dream– either way, you’re not going to sleep through it.

The sound of him sighing again catches your attention, but you’re entirely brought back to reality when he starts moving.

You fully give up. You don’t want him to go, so you say his name quietly and look up at him.

He sits up a little to look back at you, and you reach up to smooth away the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. “We’re on vacation. You’re supposed to be having fun.”

“So are you.” He points out.

Of course he’s picked up on it.

“It’s complicated.”

“Talk to me,” he encourages, shifting so he can keep you close. His little polite cat smile nearly has you spilling your guts to him about how much you wish you were the one he was kissing in front of everyone.

You press your lips together. “I… I can’t, Osc.”

You always hate his crestfallen expression, but you hate it more when you’re the cause of it.

“You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Just… not this. Anything but this.”

He hums again, but not in the happy way that he did before when you were practically trying to crawl into his skin. This is more like a hum of concentration.

You have a moment of hope, thinking that maybe he’ll just let it go, but you know your best friend better than that. It doesn’t change your shock when he speaks again.

“Okay. I think I know what this is about.”

“I seriously doubt you do.” You can’t help but laugh a little. How could he possibly know about something that you yourself only just discovered?

He gives you a specific look then, a look that you have always despised being on the receiving end of. It’s a look that tells you he’s expecting you to explain yourself and see if he’s right. He usually is right, which only makes it worse.

“No.” You shake your head, starting to try and find a way to get up. “No, Oscar, don’t make me say it.”

He isn’t having it though: his arm stays snug around you, and he puts one of his legs between both of yours, hooking his ankle around yours so you can’t escape.

“Oscar,” you whine. “No fair, with your stupid reflexes.”

He whines your name back in the same exact tone. “Shouldn’t try to get away from me, then.”

You let out a groan of frustration. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Someone walks out into the hallway, and the sound of the footsteps coming towards your room makes the both of you freeze. The two of you are in a rather precarious position, with your limbs tangled and Oscar practically on top of you. Not that you necessarily mind, but if anyone walked in right now, eyebrows would be raised.

Oscar seems to be thinking along the same lines as you, meeting your wide-eyed stare with his own but not making any effort to move away. It clicks in your head at that exact moment, just as it did in the morning when you walked into the kitchen.

He does know.

“How?” You whisper, too wrapped up in your disbelief to even be embarrassed.

“I know you better than anyone,” he whispers back, head whipping towards the closed door when you hear a creak, like someone’s weight is shifting on the floor.

The footsteps recede. You both let out a breath, turning to face each other again. You’re close. Too close. Close enough that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.

You remember the last time you were this close to him— you were both 14, playing hide and seek at midnight at a friend’s birthday party. He’d accidentally chosen the same hiding place as you, a desk with a rolling chair in front of it, and you’d been forced to squish together underneath the desk in order to conceal yourselves well enough. You were mad that he chose the same spot as you because it raised the likelihood of being found, and he’d just giggled at you every time you glared at him. You remember how much you loved his giggle, and how you’d wondered what it would be like to kiss his smile.

Well. You really have been in love with him this whole time.

You want nothing more than to crawl under the bed and stay there for the rest of the vacation so you don’t have to look him in the eye. You never want to speak to him again. You want to tell him everything. You want to push him away. You want to hold him closer.

“Tell me I didn’t ruin our friendship.” Is all you can think to say, and Oscar reacts immediately, brushing your hair out of your face and hugging you tightly.

“Honey, you could never ruin this.” He presses his nose into your hair, brushes his lips against your head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the one who should be sorry,” you grumble into his chest.

He doesn’t answer, instead choosing to alternate between playing with the ends of your hair and drawing shapes on your shoulder with his fingers. He’s always been affectionate with you, but this is a whole new level, and your overthinking has you worried that you’ll lose it entirely as soon as the two of you have to leave this room and face the reality of the situation. You close your eyes, trying your hardest to soak up every little detail of this moment in the event that you never get another like it.

You know Oscar thinks you’re asleep when, much to your dismay (and maybe his, too), he gets up and gently lays you back against your pillow.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” you hear him say, and then you feel his lips press firmly against your temple, his hand leaving the most featherlight touch on your cheek. “I’m sorry, baby.”

The soft material of a blanket covers your body, and the door opens and shuts. Your tears waste no time in soaking into the pillowcase.

You’re regretting this vacation, but it isn’t Oscar’s fault.

He’s not the one who fell in love with the one person he can’t have.

Things change, but not at all in the way you expect. Oscar still throws an arm around you for every picture and hoists you onto his back without hesitation for the obligatory piggyback photo that has been a vacation tradition since forever. His girlfriend still looks at you like you’re the pebble she can’t get out of her shoe, but for every dirty look and intentional display of affection, Oscar is there to make up for it. He goes to the beach with you and makes sure that you apply enough sunscreen, he goes to the amusement park with you even though he hates most of the rides, he takes you to breakfast at the risk of his girlfriend throwing a fit when you get back. She does, but he doesn’t care. He does it every year, and he tells you that he’d be damned if he didn’t keep up with it.

Maybe he pities you. It doesn’t matter. You can live with never even having a chance with the boy you think you’ve always wanted something more with, so long as you can continue to call him your best friend.

He leaves for his next race on the last day of vacation, and his girlfriend goes with him. You support him from home. He calls you every single day.

Oscar has never been able to go more than 24 hours without hearing your voice. He’s never been able to fully express just how much he needs you, and now he has to face the obstacle of breaking up with his girlfriend before he can even try.

note: this fic was low key my personal everest and i changed the ending at the last second because i hate angst. if anyone is interested in a part two, let me know because i’d be happy to write it at some point!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @littlemiss-arabella @notturlover @verstappensrealwife @oliveisunstable @hauntedphotographybookstaco @maddie-bell @hood-jabi @jupiter-je-taime @uzisplanet @akiraquote @average-f1-enjoyer @xo-mya1 @beth-712 @bingewatche @alex15marie @ana2delusional @tomhollandfics @cixrosie @simpluvrs @meko-mt

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 10

Word Count ~ 5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ fluff and smut

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

taglist ~ @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp @kaislashes @charli33-b33 @finalitgirl @kawaiichookie @vexillum-moeru @blackcurrant28 @r4yyyyy @dazedin2d @mrsspector-grant

Monday morning comes all too soon.

You’d stayed up later than you’d intended. Talking about the wedding. You’d agreed on an outdoor ceremony. To be held in late autumn, maybe. Still nothing definite. Baby names. This still unresolved. You think you’d fallen asleep mid debate.

Your doppelgänger has to get up even earlier on mornings when he stays at the farmhouse.

He’s insisted you sleep in before but you never do. You don’t want to miss any time being with him. It was worth missing sleep. Maybe you’d have matching shadows under your eyes.

You smile sleepily at him. It’s still dark but you can sense he’s awake, looking at you. You reach blindly for his face. He turns it, kissing your palm, his hand covering yours.

“I love you,” you greet him. You can’t say it enough.

“I love you, too.” A little regretful sigh before leaving the bed. The sounds of him getting ready in the bathroom, less obvious as you make your way downstairs and get coffee going. The sky is gradually lightening now. You can see some small wild brown rabbits through the kitchen window, rummaging near the bushes for breakfast before heading back to the burrow. You watch them scamper and forage while you prepare your own breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast to accompany the coffee.

An arm wraps around your shoulders, drawing you backwards. You can smell soap and shampoo and aftershave. He’s gotten better at the routine. Getting ready faster. Or maybe just rushing to steal a few more of these moments with you.

You lean against the doppelgänger, your head dropping back as his lips find your neck, then brush the shell of your ear. The smell of the coffee and cooked food permeates the kitchen. Warm kisses before the warm liquid slips down your throat after your first caffeinated sip.

The same words are spoken each morning before he steps into the delivery truck. I love you. Be safe.

The familiar ache is present before he’s even left the driveway. You miss him already. You worry for him. The rising sun kisses the dew on the lawn. You wrap your bathrobe tighter around your waist and head back up the steps of the porch.

***

Today is the day you’re introducing your fiancé to your parents.

You’re not sure which of you is more nervous as you drive to their house.

“What if your father says I can’t marry you?” Francis’ copy inquires anxiously, not for the first time, his fingers twisting restlessly in his lap until you reach for his hand, clutching it tightly.

“He won’t. I told you, it’s just a formality. A cultural politeness,” you reassure him. Still unsure of how this meeting is going to go. You’re going to be lying to your parents, after all. Telling them you’re marrying a human resident of the building you guard, knowing full well he’s really an alien. “We’ll get through this, love. Last thing before we move in together.”

A crooked little smile at this reminder. Still nervous. Your mouth brushes his knuckles before you return your attention to the road. Not as much traffic on a weekend morning.

“I’m surprised they don’t live in the building you work at.”

“There weren’t any vacancies or else they might have. There’s quite a waiting list to get into a DDD guarded building.”

“Meaning my apartment will be in demand once I move out.”

“Yes.” You sigh. “I’ll missing seeing you there. But then, I’ll have you at home, so, it’s a fair trade off.”

“Making you get up extra early five days a week.”

“Worth it.”

Another smile, this one sturdier. He was relaxing a little. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You’ve arrived at your destination. A brick and mortar home close to downtown. The narrow strip of lawn immaculately kept. Window boxes full of flowers. Your mother is watching your approach through the screen door, unable to wait any longer, hurrying down the trio of cement stairs and wrapping her arms around you. It had been several months since your last visit. You really should come more often.

Maybe you would, now. With a grandchild in tow, one day.

She steps back to inspect you. Looking you over, making sure you were healthy, eating properly. Remarking on the color in your cheeks which only heightens it further. You introduce your partner to her, noticing your father still hovering in the background, near the stairs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Francis’ copy closes the distance and holds out a hand and you beam with pride. You’d rehearsed this. Your dad looks stern, but that’s just his way. He accepts the offering, his eyes boring into your fiancé’s. Did he suspect? He couldn’t possibly.

“Well, come on in. We’ve got lunch ready for you,” he invites, and you sigh inwardly with relief. So far, so good.

“Your young man is so handsome,” your mother murmurs as you ascend the stairs. You nod, holding the door open for her. You can hear your beau talking to your father in the dining room. Your dad was definitely a sports fan, and you knew for a fact neither Francis nor his doppel followed any pastimes. Hopefully they’d found some neutral pleasantries to converse about.

“Let me help you in the kitchen, Mom.” She accepts, leading you into the room. Smaller than your own, necessary with these inner city dwellings. Everything was more compact. Efficient. “New wallpaper?” You observe, noting the previous floral pattern has been exchanged for a linear print.

“Yes, last month. Very contemporary.” You grab a pair of potholders and remove a casserole from the oven while she begins unloading side dishes onto the plates.

“That’s a lovely ring, dear. He must have saved up quite a lot for that.”

“Yes, it’s pretty, isn’t it?” You pause to admire the engagement solitaire you’re wearing. “Francis always lived quite frugally. Lives quite frugally,” you correct hurriedly.

“Well, nothing wrong with being sensible when it comes to finances. Your father will appreciate that sentiment.”

“Do you think they’re okay in there?” You gaze in the direction of the open doorway that leads to the dining room. You still can’t quite make out what they’re saying.

“Oh, I’m sure your Francis is doing just fine. Don’t worry.”

You finish helping her fill the plates and then lift two, carrying them into the other room. Your father is seated directly across from your fiancé. Talking about the apartments. News. The war effort. You dart an anxious glance at the doppel but he’s doing well, keeping his voice neutral, answering everything politely. You can tell he’s relieved to see you, though, the second you enter the room his eyes lighting on yours.

“Here we are. Now, Francis—do you go by Francis? Not Frank, or…?”

“Francis is fine, ma’am.”

“Francis, we’re not shy about eating a good meal. There are seconds if you want them, just ask.”

“Thank you.”

You sit next to your doppel and your mother settles across from you. “Um, before we dig in, Francis would like to say Grace.” Your parents weren’t devout, but they respected the faith well enough. It had been a constant practice before every meal you’d sat down to with the milkman’s copy.

“Oh, certainly.” Your mother bows her head, and you see a faint flicker of something—maybe approval?—in your father’s eyes before he follows suit.

The simple prayer completed, you find yourself demolishing the contents on your plate with enthusiasm. Nothing ever beats your mother’s cooking. You’ve missed it.

The conversation flows well, with only a few pauses here and there. You appreciate the fact that your mother keeps drawing the invader back into the discussion, making sure he feels involved, a welcome participant.

Your father is still a little reserved, much of the communication done with his eyes. Intently regarding your beau. Studying him. You abandon the napkin draped on your lap and reach for the pretender’s thigh to reassure him, squeezing lightly. He squeezes your hand back.

By the time dessert arrives—you’re suddenly wishing you hadn’t stuffed yourself quite so full, you should have left room, because who could say no to homemade apple pie?—you can see your fiancé is anxious to ask the question he’s wanted to all along, shifting a little restlessly in his seat, the fork sinking into the sugared crust forgotten.

“Sir, I’d like to ask your permission for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

The room goes quiet, the movement of cutlery on porcelain still. “You’re going to provide for my girl?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She’s special. She deserves the best.”

“I agree. I swear to you I will do everything in my power to care for her and make her happy.”

Another pause. You’re holding your breath. Your mother is staring at your father, worrying her bottom lip.

“Well, I can’t ask for more than that. You have my permission.”

A collective sigh of relief from the guests at the table. Your mother’s hands clasp, her eyes shining. You press your lips against the doppel’s shoulder. He’d passed. You’d done it. You manage to clear your plate, offering to help your mother with the dishes.

“I like your Francis. He’s a fine young man. Respectful. Hard working. Maybe a little too hard working. The boy looks a little in want of sleep. Or is that your doing?”

“Mom!” You gasp, and she nudges your arm.

“I’m only teasing. But he’s a good man. He’s got your father’s approval, and you know that isn’t easy. Have you thought about a date yet?”

“We were actually thinking about the fall.”

“This fall? 1955?”

“Yes.” You finish lathering a plate with soap and rinse it, setting it on the rack to dry.

“That’s a little soon. You’re not…you know…”

“No, Mom. Not yet.”

“You know I’ve been wanting grandchildren. I know your career is important to you, but you should indulge in a domestic life. Stay home and raise a family. It would make me feel better not having you facing those horrible doppels day in and day out.”

“I want to help people, Mom. So others can have that kind of life. But I would take time off for a baby.”

“Only one?”

“Francis wants several.”

“I wish your father had,” she mutters, the dish sponge squeaking against the inside of a glass. “I’m with your young man on this. The more the merrier, provided you’re doing alright financially. Fill the house, dear. You won’t regret it. It will be the happiest time of your life.” She kisses your cheek. “That’s the last of the dishes. Let’s go find out what our men are up to.”

Your men, as it turns out, are outside in the front yard. Your father sounded like he was giving tips on lawn care. Poor Francis.

“Hey.” You slide your arm through the doppel’s, coming to your fiancé’s rescue. “We’re all done in the kitchen, if you’re ready to head out.”

He nods, shaking your father’s hand, then returning the hug your mother offers before heading to the car. You embrace your parents again, your mother already on her way back inside after bidding you farewell while your father lingers by your side.

“You like him, Dad?”

“He’s different, that one. Something about him…”

A little surge of alarm runs through you. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just something,” he murmurs thoughtfully, then shakes himself. “One thing’s for certain, though: he’s crazy about you.”

“He is, Dad. And I feel the same way about him.”

“Keep us posted when you set a date. You be careful with those doppels.” His lips graze your forehead and then he retreats indoors.

You settle behind the wheel, glancing over at your fiancé. “What do you think?”

“I think that was stressful, but overall it went well. What did your father say to you just now?”

“That he could see you’re crazy about me.” You lean over and kiss him. “Want to go home and celebrate?”

“Yes. Maybe wait a bit, though. That was a lot of food.”

“My mom always fills the plates like that,” you agree, starting the engine. “You did great today. I’m really proud of you. Really happy.”

“I’m glad, sweet girl. Me too.”

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

***

There’s an advertisement for an event the following weekend sitting on the kitchen table.

The paper had been folded and tucked into the doppel’s work pants, retrieved when you’d been gathering a load of laundry together.

“I forgot about that,” he murmurs apologetically, kissing the patch of skin behind your ear, making you shiver. “It’s a dance. I didn’t know if you wanted to go. Someone on my route gave it to me.”

Social gatherings were few and far between. Dangerous, these days. You generally avoided them.

It’s tempting, though. You’re conflicted again. Wanting to go out with your beau, being afraid of discovery.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do you have to do the washing right now, or can we…?”

“We can.” You set the basket down and turn in his arms. His hands slide down your back, then shift to stroke over your hips.

“My beautiful girl.” His lips touch yours.

“My handsome doppel.” You return the gesture, your fingers carding through the hair curling at the nape of his neck. He needed another trim.

“Come upstairs with me.”

You follow him eagerly. He pauses midway through unbuttoning his shirt to cup your face between his hands, kissing you. He’s forgotten to undo his shirt cuffs, the sleeves still clinging when he tries to shed the garment. You come to his rescue and he stops you for another kiss. Little by little the clothing piles onto the floor.

Neither of you has switched the bedside lamp on. It’s just the two of you in the darkness. The moon is hiding tonight.

“I love you so much,” he breathes into your ear as he enters you.

“I love you.” You wrap your legs around him tightly, rocking up against him. Gentle movements. Filling you. Withdrawing. Stretched again. Plunging deep. The place where he ends meeting the place where you begin.

“Is it wrong to pray? To ask for something, is it so different than the words we recite before meals, these ones from the heart, will He answer me, a monster…” He whispers against your skin, your hair, musings you’ve mulled over yourself, surely he deserved it, if any did, you know what he wants, what you want, too.

“Ask, love. Ask, I’ll ask too, Francis…”

“Please…” His hips drive against yours. Sheathed faster. Impaled and then not, in rapid succession. His mouth is rough on yours, sliding sloppily off the edges, words half uttered, some in that strange native language of his.

Inside. Pressure. Contractions. An echoing pulse. Liquid heat. Your nails digging into his shoulder. His teeth scraping your throat. Filling you. Breathless kisses before the calm.

***

You don’t typically make small talk with the residents.

There’s always a kind of tension between you, their fates resting in your hands. You were trained to be professionally detached, but that obviously had failed in Francis’ case. Still, you’re gradually warming up to some of the others. The happiness of your relationship making words tumble free easier. Today it is the physicist at your window, Dr. Afton. He adjusts his glasses with a long practiced gesture, shoving them back up the bridge of his nose as you examine his ID and entry request. He is listed for the day and everything checks out. A quick call to his fiancée confirms what you already know. He’s legit. The real deal.

“Have you and Mia set a date yet?” You slide his documents back towards him through the slot.

“Spring, I think. You and Francis?”

“Autumn, maybe.”

“So soon,�� he murmurs. His eyes flick down for the briefest of moments and you don’t misunderstand the significance.

“Oh, no, I’m not…I mean, we’re trying, but…” You flush heavily as you stammer. Your attempt at small talk was seemingly backfiring. Maybe it was best to just keep things professional after all. “Anyway, have a good rest of your day.”

The doctor stands looking at you expectantly. “The door?” He prompts gently.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” You hastily operate the door controls and the man leaves the entryway.

Your next attendant makes your face break out in a grin. Your beau has returned.

The replicant milkman deposits his required documents into the slot, grinning back at you. There’s an extra slip of paper there, something torn off his delivery list on the clipboard, perhaps.

I love you

You mouth it back at him. He lays a hand on the window. You match your palm to his, dwarfed by the larger structure.

“How was your day?”

“I made an ass out of myself in front of Afton, but yeah, good. You?”

“Not bad. Can I come in?”

“Uh-huh.” You press the buzzer. Your fiancé doesn’t take the elevator like you’d expected, instead invading the security booth.

“Sir, this is for DDD staff only,” you mock protest.

“Does it count if I’m going to be married to a DDD staff member?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure.” You’re about to step closer to him when you hear someone entering the building. A middle aged man you don’t recognize wearing a suit. The same DDD enameled pin on his lapel. You hurriedly take the papers and ID he offers while the doppelgänger takes a step back, still out of view of the window, near the open doorway.

“I’ll need to call to verify your identity,” you remark. You don’t get visits from personnel other than the cleaners that often, and if you do, you usually get notified first. The man’s face is expressionless. He nods and you proceed, dialing the number of the headquarters.

“Good afternoon. I have someone here from the R&D department. I wasn’t expecting…I see. Alright. Yes, thank you.” You hang up the phone. “They’ve vouched for you. What brings you here today?”

“Something that will revolutionize the screening process, we’re hoping.” He sets a briefcase down on the narrow ledge of the counter, using a key on a cord around one wrist to unlock it before thumbing the latches and opening the case. He lifts an object and places it on the ledge before shutting and removing the briefcase. “This device here emits a frequency that the doppels can’t resist. It forces them to come out of hiding, as it were.”

“How do you know?” You can see your doppel’s body tense in your peripheral vision.

“Oh, a little project we’ve been working on. Sometimes the cleaners bring us gifts. We don’t always exterminate…but I suppose you wouldn’t know that, once the screen goes down. Well, in any case, they’ve made for good lab rats. It’s taken us awhile, but I think this just might be what we need to turn the tide and gain the upper hand.”

“You’ve been experimenting on them,” you whisper, unable to keep the revulsion and horror out of your voice.

“Why not? It’s not like they haven’t taken their own POWs from our side.”

The urge to glance at your fiancé to confirm the truth of this is overwhelming but you resist. “Why would they want to keep us prisoner?”

“I’m sure something unsavory. Food supply. Experiments. Who can say? Disgusting creatures. But I don’t need to tell you about that. You encounter them on a daily basis. A nearly perfect record too, I hear. Only one…mishap.” He grins. His teeth are yellow. You find yourself disliking the man more and more.

“No one was hurt,” you say defensively.

“Thank goodness. Now, to the task at hand. This device is extremely simple to use. It’s already calibrated to the correct frequency. No need to adjust. Simply flip the switch. Undetectable to human ears. But very effective for the doppels. They’ll reveal their true form within seconds. Then it’s just a matter of calling the disposal team. Just think of the applications this will have once this gets approved for mass production. No more fear of the unknown. No more doubts. The ultimate weapon of retaliation.”

Your stomach turns with every sentence he utters. There would be no hiding for Francis. For the baby you would one day conceive. All of the happiness you’d felt earlier evaporates. You grip the edge of the counter as he demonstrates the switch to turn the device on and activate the frequency.

You hear the creak of the wood when the doppelgänger grips the door frame.

“Yes, I see, easy to use. Better conserve the battery, right?” You finally surrender to the impulse to glance over at the invader. His chest is heaving, his teeth razor sharp. Bloodshot eyes that plead with you, the familiar shimmer outlining his true, hidden form appearing.

“That is one of the drawbacks, yes. We’re still working on a more reliable power source.” He flips the switch off and you can’t help but sigh loudly in relief. “I’ve been instructed to tell you that you’re to use it only in cases when there is any doubt. You’ll still be performing the standard screening procedures. But if this has the results that I expect it will, I’m certain this will become the new industry standard. And give us the advantage at last. I’ll be collecting this after a one week trial. I’ll have a questionnaire for you to fill out after you’ve tested it out.”

“Of course.” You plaster a smile on your features, willing the man to leave.

“Shall I bring it to you, or…?”

“No, company policy prohibits anyone from entering the booth that’s not authorized. Technically you haven’t been, so…”

“Quite right. Well, I leave it in your capable hands, then.” The briefcase in hand, he turns and exits the building.

You immediately turn to see Francis’ clone sweating profusely, still struggling to return to human form.

“Francis! Are you alright? Love, it’s okay, I’m here.” Your hands cup the intruder’s face, disregarding the dangerous rows of cuspids stretched wide, peering into the crimson streaked eyes.

He shudders, his hands—claws—closing over your wrists. You’ve never seen him have this much difficulty. What was that evil frequency the scientists had discovered?

“Francis, it’s me. Come back to me, love. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Another violent tremor. Then his grip on you lessens, his eyes clearing, the haze dissipating. The facial features rearrange to form the familiar ones of the milkman.

“Sweetheart,” he manages, his breathing still ragged.

“Yes, Francis. You’re okay.” You wrap your arms around him and he squeezes you tightly.

“The pain, love. You can’t imagine. We have to destroy that. We can’t…”

“We’ll think of something. Tamper with it. Lie about it’s effectiveness. I don’t know. Something.” As wondrous as it would be to have access to technology like that, you couldn’t risk its use for your doppel’s sake. For your future children’s. “I didn’t know they were experimenting on…is it true, what he said? Have the invaders been taking humans prisoner?”

He releases you. “Not my squadron, I promise you that. But yes. It’s true.” He draws in a shaky breath. “I know I said in the beginning I wanted to experiment…now, I would never condone…”

“I know. I know you.” You retrieve the device, deciding to store it in the lockbox under the desk for now. Francis’ doppel gives you a wide berth as you walk around the booth carrying it, backing away as you make the corner. “You should go upstairs and rest. My shift will be done soon.” He nods, still looking shaken. You embrace him again, watching as he steps onto the elevator, then your eyes flick to the lockbox.

A new complication that you didn’t need.

***

Francis Mosses’ apartment is silent that afternoon when you enter.

No record rotating on the player. No meal being prepared on the stove. There is just the doppel seated on the couch, the crocheted blanket draped over the cushions behind him. He hasn’t even removed his work uniform, except for the cap which is resting on the coffee table. He hadn’t locked the door or risen to greet you at it, his tired eyes shifting to watch as you sit next to him.

“Francis, are you feeling alright?” You’re wondering if the device didn’t have some lingering ill effects.

“Fatigued. I’ll be alright. I’m sorry I didn’t get the door for you. I’m still…” He holds out a hand that tremors as if with palsy. You’ve never seen him this ghostly pale.

“Do you have any appetite at all? Should I fix us something, or…?”

“Just stay with me, love.”

You snuggle closer to him, slipping off your shoes and drawing your knees up, tucking your stockinged feet to one side, your fingers stroking his forearm. You’re suddenly feeling tired yourself, the rush of adrenaline from earlier now leaving you feeling sapped of energy. There was a nice breeze coming in through the living room window. Your lover’s arm curls around you. You fall asleep.

It’s dark when you awaken.

You’re disoriented, blinking away the vestiges of a dream you don’t recall the details of. Francis’ doppel is cuddling you. Awake. You can tell by the rhythm of his breathing.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“We both needed the rest.” His lips press against your hair.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Physically, anyway. Mentally…I’m worried.”

“I know. Me too. We’ll figure something out, Francis.” You reach out blindly to find his hand. “Want to do something improper like skip to dessert and have cookies and milk in bed and forget everything for a bit?”

“Hmmm. Are you included in that menu?”

“I can be.”

“Then it’s a deal. Shower first?”

“Definitely.”

His lips touch your forehead. “You always make everything better.”

You’re more concerned than you’re letting on. But you don’t want to focus on that right now. You want the doppel to feel safe, secure. Enjoy the peace you’ve found together for tonight.

You feel him leaning away from you, reaching for the lamp. His condition does appear to have improved from earlier. Healthy color returned. Hands steady. You dig around in the drawer where you’ve stored some spare pajamas while he turns the shower on.

“Don’t fuss too much on what you’re wearing. It won’t be staying on.”

Oh, he was definitely feeling better. “Maybe I’ll just skip it entirely.”

“Now we’re talking.”

You strip off your work clothes, your fiancé already halfway undressed, finishing that task now and leading your into the deluge of warm water. You take a moment to soak your hair, then switch places so Francis’ copy can do the same.

You grab the bar of soap from the shallow ledge on the wall and begin lathering your hands together, working up a cloud of suds that you quickly smear across the cloned milkman’s chest. You take turns washing each other, hands lingering when they reach nipples, buttocks, between legs. You’re pushed gently back against the shower wall, the soap slipping from your grasp. The doppel cups his hands beneath the spray, splashing it over your body, making sure you’re rinsed, lifting one leg and guiding it to rest on the edge of the tub while he kneels down, blinking water out of his eyes, his damp fingers now working against your sex, followed by his tongue, sucking a mouthful of shower water and your clit in one go. You moan, raking your fingers through his damp dark hair, marveling at the feel of that frenzied muscle dividing your nether lips, plunging inside and then swirling around your clit.

You’re thinking of that alien cock of his, the one you’d mostly felt more than saw, and you suddenly crave the feeling of it again. You won’t dare ask him for that tonight, not after what had happened earlier when he’d been forced out of hiding, but another time, you want that in your mouth, back inside of you, fucking you missionary style, driving in deeply. You’re already swollen, dripping, that slick liquid thicker than the water pelting your bodies, a trail he follows with lips and tongue and even teeth, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thighs, the arc of one hip, the crest of your mound before he’s sucking your bud again. He’s leaning into you, offering you a chance to rest some of your body weight, the raised leg shaking as you find a swift release, bursting on his tongue, ripened hive spilling creamy honey before you’re rinsed clean.

He shuts the shower off and you’re barely swiped with a towel before he’s pushing you down into the bed, picking right up where he left off, sliding his erection into the place his tongue and fingers have just vacated.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me, I’ll do anything you want.”

Catering to you. You feel you should be the one making the offer. “I’m yours. I love everything with you. You decide. This is nice. This is…oh…good.” He’s picked up the pace, droplet covered hips kissing yours over and over. The shower water still clinging to him drips from his hair, splashing your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. You think of kissing him that day it rained on your front porch, already falling so fast, so far, Francis the bridge but the doppel the destination, it didn’t feel wrong, it couldn’t, when it was like this between you.

“Sweet girl, you’re so perfect for me.” A word you don’t know, but the tone is in the same vein, affection, lust, breathed beside your cheek, moaned against your throat.

“I want to learn it. All of it. Starting with your name. I love you.” The words are pushed into the mouth that closes over yours, hot breath, that thick cock of his incessantly drumming inside of your womb. You’re lost in the dark of his eyes, in that blissful realm he drags you back into, your body shattering around him, milking him, urging to be mated, claimed, marked as his. He calls you something that sounds almost like wife and you nearly are, bonded to this foreigner that’s crossed galaxies and mapped stars to build a new universe within you, starting with this, that sowed seed, fingers interwoven, cock buried deep, face burrowed in the curve of neck damp from the strands of hair clinging there.

After there is cold milk from the fridge and chocolate chip cookies, melting sweet on your tongue as Francis’ doppel holds you against him, licking at the stray sweet granules clinging to your lips. “Your first lesson,” he begins, and it is him speaking now, the invader beneath, that deeper voice stirring interest in your loins again already, twice sated but still eager for more. “My name is…”

[another-random-paradise]

Hello everything is fine? I just found your account and I'm already in love!!!

I loved your sleepy confession writing post, if it doesn't bother you and only if you want, could you do it for Kalim, Jamil and Ruggie? They are so cute!!! >w<

Oh, and sorry if the English is wrong, it's not my first language...

An even sleepier confession

Thank you for the request and the sweet words!! And don’t worry about your English, it’s great! Plus, it isn’t my first language either, so i get the struggle, haha! :)

——————————————————————————————————

Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him / part one

Characters: Kalim, Jamil, Ruggie

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Kalim 

-Chances are, you were at one of his party’s, stayed late, and are too tired to go back to ramshackle 

-so, Kalim being Kalim, annoys convinces Jamil to let you two have a sleepover. The absolute energy boost Kalim gets after getting permission already makes Jamil regret his decision..

-after a long night of story telling (with how many siblings Kalim has, he definitely always has tea to spill), pillow fights, and movie marathons, you finally decide to go to sleep, much to Jamils relief

-Just before you two fall asleep though, you unconsciously make one last comment “Life is always so fun with you, really makes me wanna marry you one day..”

-If you thought you’d get any sleep after a comment like that, you’re wrong! Because Kalim is now wide awake and practically yelling in excitement 

-He’d be asking you if you really meant it, before talking about how you’ll have to meet his family first, especially all his siblings! They’ll love you!! Why don’t you come with him over the next Holidays?! All while being all over you, kind of like an exited puppy are those ears and a tail??, meanwhile you’re just sitting there like ‘oh shit, I said that out loud?!’ 

-It’ll only get worse if you confirm that, yes, you do, in fact, want to be with him and maybe, hopefully, marry him one day 

-Jamil storms in, thinking you two were getting assassinated or something, only to see Kalim hugging you, practically shaking in excitement, talking about all the dates he’ll take you on (and about your wedding of course)

-you sheepishly look over at Jamil, who is staring daggers into you, the message clear ‘you couldn’t have waited until morning?’. If looks could kill, Jamil would have cut you into a three course meal just now :D 

-Jamil tells him to quiet down, so the rest of the dorm can rest

-Kalim continues to whisper-yell, till eventually you two fall asleep cuddling 

-the next day, half the school already knows about your now relationship, partially because the entirety of scarabia could hear him, and partially because Kalim can’t keep his mouth shut-

-He is so hung up on that marriage comment, that he might accidentally introduce you as his fiancée a few times!

Jamil

-you, being the kind soul that you are, probably decided to help him out with his chores around Scarabia 

-But unlike him, you aren’t used to so much work, No matter how much Crowley tries to overwork you so eventually you’re just straight up exhausted.

-Jamil brings you to one of the many couches, but he makes sure it’s one away from the business of the dorm, he wouldn’t want you to be disturbed while you sleep he cares to much about you for that

-He picks up the few dirty plates some other students left behind, as you get comfortable, which is a very easy task, considering all those silk blankets and soft pillows! You mumble something a mere second before falling asleep. “You’re so caring, Jamil… makes me want to marry you even more than i already to..”

-Jamil halts in his tracks, he almost drops the plates he was carrying! Partially because he’s flustered, but also because a part of him hoped you wouldn’t like him back and the crush would pass.. not that it ever would have

-He is lost in thought as he makes his way to the kitchen, he almost even runs into another student

-Jamil likes you, he really does, there’s no doubt there, but he’s worried more than anything. He doesn’t have time for love!

-not only would you distract him from keeping Kalim from accidentally getting himself killed, but his work would mean that he’d have little to no time to spend with you.. not to mention if you get married, you and your future children would be forced to work for the Asim family too- Unless..

-If he takes you’re last name, instead of him yours, neither of you would be a part of the Viper name any longer. Instead of him enslaving you into service, you could free him from his life of servitude.

-And you always find ways to hang out, despite how busy he is

-He continues to work, now with a smile on his face. 

-Maybe this could work out after all :)

Ruggie

-Another one who you were probably helping with work

-Usually he’d refuse help, he doesn’t want to be indebted to anyone, but hey, it’s an excuse to spend more time with you, so he’ll make an exception 

-Afterwards, your beat.. even after book 3 and knowing him for a while, you never could have guessed how much work just one certain Lion could make.

-He lays down next to you, either making a sarcastic or teasing comment as he does.

-As always, you laugh in response, but this time you follow it up with “You’re a great guy, you know that? I hope i get to marry you one day..”

-His usual smug smirk, is gone. Just like that. It’s replaced by absolute shock

-He turns to you, to question you about it, only to see you’re already in the land of dreams 

-Ruggie doesn’t know how to feel, He is shocked, flustered, and most of all, confused. Yes, he is happy that you like him back, it just confuses him.

-You’re in a school filled with rich guys and literal Royalty. So, by the seven, why would you like a guy like him? Especially since your first meeting was literally him stealing a sandwich from your son friend! 

-But it makes him smile, in a school filled with rich people, someone as amazing as you, still chooses him, so he must be really great, right?

-Now he’s even more determined to get a good job, so that he can give you and your possible children a good life!

-He just hopes his Grandma and the kids will like you.. nah, he’s sure they will, you’re you! 

-He won’t immediately make his move to ask you out, but he’s definitely working on it! He would be a bit more hesitant about asking you out (Even after you basically asked to marry him) if you’re a girl, as in nature male hyenas are naturally more submissive towards the female they’re trying to court 

This was so much fun to write, thank you so much for the request!!

Feedback is welcomed, just please be nice!! Hope you all have a nice day <3

[togamest]

thinking about the different ways they cuddle with you. -> 529 words, gn!reader. just some cute stuff. -> feat: togame jou, hayato suou, umemiya hajime, and haruka sakura.

togame is gentle. he wraps around you like a plush blanket, so softly that you barely pick up on the subtext. his chin on top of yours, hands skirting under your shirt to rub circles on your bare skin. the pads of his fingers are warm, making sure you’re comfortable and relaxed in his presence. he presses a kiss to your head. his touches are featherlight, but not out of concern for you; it’s just how he is. he moves confidently, holds you securely, knowing you’ll never leave him. why would you? he’s the best there is. you and him both know it, and his slow-moving tendencies are a breath of fresh air. his heart beats underneath you slowly, but steadily.

hayato is possessive. grips onto you like you’ll float away if he doesn’t, like a backpack, or worse, a straightjacket. he creates wrinkles in your clothes from holding you so hard. his hugs feel suffocating, in a way that feels safe, but stifling. you get up to go to the kitchen and he almost starts crying, follows you like a lost puppy. he even asks if he can grab water for you instead, because you leaving is much worse than him leaving. he masks his fears with his incessant white lies and banter, but you can see it written all over his face; he's scared of losing you, and he holds you like he is. all you can do is press a kiss to the top of his head, and he melts in your embrace.

umemiya is all-encompassing. that's the only way you can describe him; his touch is like no one else's, he commands his space so all you think about is him. he may not be loud, or flashy, but his ability to hold you so close and get your mind off of something deeply bothering you simply by talking about his plants is magical. many nights have been spent looking over his garden on the roof and stargazing; your head against his chest, his heart beating steadily under your ear. firm, solid, loyal, unwavering. it's not necessarily the way he holds you, but what he does during it; rambling about his plants, showing you the new tomatoes he just harvested while you sit in his lap with your back to his chest. it's the opposite of seeing through the actions for the real him; umemiya is real, at every moment, and his cuddles feel no different.

sakura is hesitant. he's always been hesitant, blush spreading across his face every time you smile at him, or hold out your hand, or even try to give him a hug. his heart races underneath you, you can feel it, but you can also feel the commitment he has to you. his snuggling prowess is far behind most of the boys, given that he's never had a relationship or a partner before, not properly...but he's always there for you if you need him. eventually, he's the one making the first move. he's the one wrapping you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, murmuring that even though you're kind of lame, he's still in love with you.

divider credit: @/benkeibear

networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© togamest 2023-2024

[celaenaeiln]

Was Dick ever mean to Jason when they first met? Because I’ve seen a lot of fanon where it’s implied/shown that he was, but I haven’t seen anything to prove that it’s canon (and I’m happy you’re back even though you weren’t gone long I love your blog)

Aww thank you!!

Ugh I don't know where fanon keeps getting the idea but Dick was never mean to Jason as Robin.

Let's start with the erased version, otherwise known as pre-crisis.

Jason Todd was born to acrobatic parents and also performed in the circus. Here's the interesting bit: it wasn't Bruce who found out about them, it was Dick who was at the circus and cheered them.

Batman (1940) Issue #357

Where was Bruce? He was busy becoming squid food in Gotham.

Anyway Bruce escapes and meets up with Dick who is still Robin and helps him solve part of the crime. As he's discussing the case with Dick, Dick mentions that there may be a connection to Bruce's case and something Trina Todd said.

Yup! Dick becomes friends with Jason's mom <3

Batman (1940) Issue #358

Bruce doesn't trust her but Dick does and Bruce trusts Dick so he accepts.

So Dick goes to meet Trina and her husband but they've already left to sneak into the villain's lair and get caught by Killer Croc. So he chases after them. Barbara joins in as Batgirl but Batgirl and Robin are too late because Killer Croc has already fed Joe and Trina to crocodiles.

Batman's still fighting his own case while all this is happening.

Waldo the Clown takes Jason to the manor and while Jason's in the kitchen looking for food, he finds the door behind the grandfather clock open, goes inside, and finds the batcave.

He finds a trunk of Dick's old suits as Robin and that's where the iconic pre-crisis Jason Robin scene comes -

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Which first of all Jason why are you wearing other people's clothes without their permission? But anyway Jason hears people coming and finds Batman's busy grabbing information with Selina and so he hides in the trunk of the Batmobile. Robin Dick and Batgirl solve the case on their end and find out there's a trap for Batman so they come in and save Batman and his allies. Jason sneaks out of the car and finds his parents are dead so he tries to kill Killer Croc but Dick and Barbara stop him.

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Dick's just like "oh, you sweetheart."

Dick wants to adopt him but Bruce is like mine because they're both like "It's my fault his parents died, I should take responsibility."

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Dick was really nice to Jason.

Batman (1940) Issue #529

Dick is Jason's idol. He and Dick have a great relationship, so much so that Dick actually passes on the Robin name and suit to Jason.

Batman (1940) Issue #529

I could make a meme out of the handshake scene with Bruce being one hand and Jason being the other and in the middle the hands meet is "idolizing Dick Grayson".

So Dick and Jason had a fantastic relationship.

And then some things happen where this Jason wasn't well-recieved by the audience because of the way writers handled the transition from Dick's robin to Jason's so DC realized that they need to make Jason into his own person with his own personality, looks, and story.

So they magic marker erased the previous timeline and now we have the actual Jason Todd that's actually relevant to every comic that comes after.

Yet in this current timeline too, Dick treated Jason sweetly.

Here Dick's first meeting with Jason, he actually saves Jason from the hands of drug dealers.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He let go of his hiding spot to get the new Robin out of trouble.

Jason is not at all happy about this.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And Dick's pissed off because he found out there's a new Robin through a newspaper and he just lost a drug deal he's been waiting on to bailout the new Robin.

So Dick storms off and Jason asks Bruce about Nightwing

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And I'm going to reiterate parts of this post for this part (people please please read this post because tumblr has an image limit and I've explained it in detail there but I can't here)

Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.

You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.

And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.

After meeting Bruce, Dick talks about what he's been up to since he left and put Bruce in a good mood before he starts tearing into him.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.

Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out, and out comes the truth

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But here's what it means in terms of Dick and Jason's relationship:

Instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, Dick becomes the bigger man and decides to turn Robin into a legacy.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.

It's Dick's approval of Jason and them catching the drug dealers together at the end that cements Jason as Robin. It's his acceptance and good will toward Jason that Bruce is grateful for.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Dick also validates and praises Jason in the comics whenever they meet.

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #31

He's basically, "Don't worry about Bruce, if you get in trouble, I'll take care of it."

The only problem is they didn't meet a lot but when they did it was good times all around.

The third version of Dick and Jason's meeting.

In this version holy honking heck. First of all it's a flashback when Bruce fires Dick because he feels like he's too busy with other duties to be with Batman and then after a series of events in present time, it shows that Bruce literally kidnapped Jason and gagged and tied him to a chair. And Alfred's like WTH BRUCE?!

Even more things happen on both sides (curse you 30-image per post tumblr limit) and Bruce essentially makes Jason watch all the videos of Dick and sets Jason's gauntlet test to be a game of tag with Dick.

Dick is completely unaware of all this happening because he's just having fun busting up thugs and playing with Barbara, having no clue that Bruce and Jason are literally watching him livestream through his bike dash cam.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #105

Jason literally shows up while Dick's pondering on a rooftop and is like who're you? Oh wait you're him lol. Move over there's a new robin in town! And Dick's just like WHAT?! He such a little shit about it.

Dick's immediately like okay I'm upset at Bruce but I have to help this new kid out. There's no hesitation, no regret, no anger towards Jason at all. Just pure desire to see him succeed.

Not gonna lie, Jason's just awful towards Dick because he thinks that Dick is his test or something Dick's just like, "can you cool it for a sec?" They soon find out about a huge crime drug activity going on and Dick sorta mentors Jason through it while on the case. I'm not gonna include the panels but it's just Dick and Jason working together. It's fun to read and cute because Dick's protective of him and Jason's like a little bird following a bigger scarier one.

At the end the crime is solved, Jason and Alfred go home, and Dick calls Bruce to tell him this -

Nightwing (1996) Issue #106

Nightwing (1996) Issue #106

He was so, so nice to Jason. Actually it's impossible for anyone to treat Jason better than Dick treated him, not even Bruce was this nice to Jason.

In Nightwing (2016) Annual, there's another story of Dick and Jason's meeting. In this case Dick comes over after Alfred calls him and Jason's sulking in his room because Bruce grounded him. He pulls Jason away and they go on a Nightwing and Robin adventure where Dick talks to him, teaches him, and lifts his spirits.

Nightwing (2016) 2021 Annual

Dick being mean to Jason is pure fanon, it's so fanon that there isn't even a single comic panel that can be used in support of that horrible idea. He never ignored Jason. Dick makes it very, very clear that his problems are with Bruce won't interfere with his relationship with Jason. He treats Jason as an independent person with his own personality and genuinely looks after and cares for him in every retelling. The only thing is they didn't meet very often but when they did, Dick was such a good brother.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 - seo changbin x gn!afab reader

wc: 6.3k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: sex with no strings attached, sexy changbin, changbin’s tummy (deserves a warning because it is so overwhelming), bin is cocky and cute, mentions of body hair, smut (specific warnings under the cut, minors please do not interact!)

synopsis: your situationship - the man of your dreams - gives you full, explicit permission to fuck his frat brothers in your effort of a hot bitch summer. who’s next, after you ruined your best friend in bed?

a/n: part three of the fratboy series, hot bitch summer!:D fratboy bin is on my mind… so sexy. also enjoy the build up of more lore in this one!! this part is really integral to the series :) 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: strength kink, size kink, public sex (they fuck in a gym room but it’s locked), pet names (little bunny), a LOT of dirty talk, fingering, spitting, a very brief blowjob, seo changbin has a THICK COCK like SO THICK, maybe d/s dynamics a bit? dom!bin then sub!bin at the end?, creampie, brief cockwarming

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Waking up in Minho’s bed after a night of unadulterated pleasure had become a regular occurrence in your life. The man just knew exactly how to push your buttons in exactly the right way, and you more often than not even found yourself staying over in his bed after parties too. Even slightly intoxicated, you had the best sex you’d ever had with him.

His words were still lingering on your mind, though. Could you truly tick off every member of the frat? The SKZ frat itself had only eight members, with frat president Chan being extremely selective in who he let join. Jisung and Changbin were allowed in because they all loved music production, with it being both Chan and Jisung’s major. Changbin simply had an affinity for it and had done it as a side course with his sports and exercise science degree.

Minho, you believed, had formed the fraternity with Chan initially, and he was elected vice president. Hyunjin and Felix were accepted instantly because of their involvement in Minho’s dance society. Jeongin was Minho’s adopted baby that he met through Felix, because the both of them played video games together regularly. Jeongin took it a lot less seriously than Felix did.

Interestingly, Seungmin was accepted because he was rumoured to be the author of the Gossip Girl-esque blog in the university, titled Hall of Fame. This fact had never been confirmed by Seungmin himself, but rumours ran rampant around the school. You often wondered if the anonymous posts were actually him, since they never seemed to include members of his frat. It was as if they’d been selective, only ever about people from other fraternities or sororities. You’d been lucky enough to not have one about you, and that got you thinking - you were a relatively well known figure on campus due to the people you choose to surround yourself with. If it was Seungmin, had you been excluded from the posts because you were friends with Jisung and Felix?

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the home into your nose and invaded your senses. You quite literally heard your stomach grumble, needing food after yet another long night of partying, and you stretched before pushing your legs off of the bed to stand up. They felt so weak these days, due to you being fucked by Minho so often. You didn’t even know how to remedy it. You sure as hell weren’t going to stop fucking him.

Hobbling downstairs slowly, you entered the kitchen to be met with the sound of Seungmin and Minho bickering. From what you could gather in your still slightly sleepy haze, Seungmin was angry because Minho had decided to cook for you, him and Jisung, and he refused to give Seungmin any. You blinked through the fog, feeling Jisung place his head on your shoulder. The touch was a welcome one, comforting and by your best friend. Felix sat next to Seungmin across from you, giggling at something Hyunjin had whispered into his ear. 

“Y/N, my baby,” Jisung chirped happily, rubbing his round cheek against your shoulder. You sighed, letting your head loll on top of his. “Good morning. How are you?” 

“Mm, I’ve felt better. My legs feel really weak and tired.”

Seungmin choked on a laugh while eating a spoonful of the bowl of cereal he’d had to make due to the fact Minho refused to cook for him. He pointed his spoon at you vindictively. “Maybe because you’re trying to fuck the whole frat?” A drop of milk dribbled off the end of the spoon and splashed back into the bowl, taunting and slow. Even the milk was roasting you.

It was Hyunjin’s turn to giggle. “Hey, they’re pretty. They’re allowed to fuck us all.”

You groaned, nuzzling your cheek against Jisung’s soft hair. Jeongin had since entered the room, hair sticking up everywhere and a loose t-shirt hanging off of his slender frame. He’d quickly thrown himself onto a chair and placed his head in Jisung’s lap. You noticed Minho adding extra bacon to the pan automatically upon Jeongin’s arrival. Seungmin looked like he was about to have a breakdown, shoving more Frosties into his mouth and chewing angrily. His eyes were narrowed at Minho, yet Minho didn’t even grace him with a glance, simply smirking to himself over the pan. 

Jisung carded his fingers through Jeongin’s hair, making Jeongin flutter his eyes shut and let out a pleased hum. “You know, you could go to Binnie. He works out a lot. He could stretch you out so your legs aren’t as weak.”

Binnie. Changbin. Stretching you out. Oh yeah. Now that sounded good. You turned to Minho, seeing him plating up four plates of food. 

Changbin was probably the man of your wet dreams if Minho didn’t exist. He was a beefcake, to put it simply. You often found yourself ogling his muscles in sleeveless shirts and wishing nothing more than to leave bite marks all over his tan skin. You wanted him to press his full weight to you, feel that delightful sexy fucking tummy against your back as he pounded you with his undeniably thick cock.

Going to the gym with Changbin sounded amazing. Minho brought the plates over quickly, sitting down on your other side. He looked at you, sending a subtle wink. “I think that sounds amazing. He’s coaching the weightlifting society tomorrow. You can grab him after practice.”

Oh, you planned on grabbing him alright.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You arrived at the training room Changbin was supposed to be in around ten minutes after his weightlifting class had been expected to end. It was the morning, sunlight glaring through the window. You’d dressed comfortably, tight gym leggings and a loose t-shirt adorning your figure and a simple pair of old trainers that had probably seen better days. They were stained with droplets of bright paint from the time you and Felix had tried to redecorate your room - it hadn’t gone well, and you’d actually been staring bemusedly at the random patches of different colours before you left the house.

He was situated on the bench press when you walked in, effortlessly pumping out reps of 50 kg as if it was nothing. He didn’t have a spotter, so this was clearly lightweight for him. You thought you could die, heart racing, just standing in the doorway and staring at him. He hadn’t even noticed you yet.

Once Changbin had re-racked the bar, he turned to you, blinking confusedly. It took him a second before a cute toothy smile appeared on his face. “Oh, Y/N! Hi! Sorry, I kinda lost track of time.”

“It’s okay, Changbin,” you smiled, walking further into the room. You made sure to close the door behind you, subtly locking it while he was retying his laces. He was wearing a tight black vest top, a face mask pulled down under his chin and his hair natural, dark and curly. His legs were clad in loose basketball shorts, showing off that he does, in fact, attend leg day. You were shamelessly ogling him, and he brought your attention back to his face with a laugh.

“Bin is fine, or even Binnie,” Changbin grinned. He stood up from his laces and clapped his hands together triumphantly. “Okay, so Sungie mentioned something about your legs. You wanna strengthen them, yeah?”

You blanched. Okay, so Jisung had told Changbin your purpose for being there, but had he told him why? You doubted Changbin would have no idea. He knew, but at least he was being friendly about it. Changbin ushered you over to a mat on the floor, and you obediently walked over to sit down cross-legged on it. He sat next to you, pulling the face mask off altogether and throwing it aside.

“Erm, yeah. I guess so. They’re just really, um, shaky? Weak? I’m not sure,” You mumbled, fingers smoothing down your leggings awkwardly. Could you have less finesse, ever? You’d been awkward with Minho, given he’d walked straight out of your wet dreams after plaguing them like a demon for months, but you surely didn’t have to be like that around Changbin. Changbin hummed, nodding at your explanation. “I don’t think weights would be best. Maybe I just need to-“ Be stretched out. “Stretch. I need to stretch.”

Changbin nodded. “Sounds good. Can I touch you?”

Please. “Yeah, of course.” 

He reached over, his hands pressing at your calves. His hands were wide, with thick, manly fingers that weren’t too long but looked like they’d be such a fucking good stretch. His fingertips were slightly calloused from the overuse of barbells. You wondered what he’d be like in bed - would he put his muscles to good use, pinning you down and making you take it, or would he let you take control like Jisung did?

You sighed, almost inaudibly. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Okay,” Changbin mused. “They are kinda weak, I can feel it. The muscles are spasming when I touch them. Could you stand up, and touch your toes? It’s a yoga pose, I just wanna see how weak they actually are.”

Yoga? Okay. You had flashbacks to Felix trying to teach you how to do yoga, some random shit he’d learnt from Hyunjin. You’d both done one pose before falling over cackling. Standing up immediately, you bent over to touch your toes. He came behind you, humming again. You tried not to think about how he was now standing behind you, grabbing your hips to correct your position and making you arch your back a little. As if he was going to push into you from behind, slow and thick, quite literally stretching you out-

You were speaking before you could even control it. “Oh, fucking hell.” 

Changbin’s hands paused on your hips. A beat passed, and then two. Then he was laughing.

“Hey, did you seriously just come here because you wanted to tick me off of your sexy bucket list, or did you come here to actually fix your legs?” You shot up, turning around to face him. He put his hands on his hips, still letting out loud giggles. You couldn’t help but let out a scoff and laugh with him.

“Well. I actually do need help,” you rubbed your temples, still laughing in disbelief. Changbin shook his head, rolling his eyes playfully. “Hey, I’m serious!”

“No, no, I believe you. But you wanted to fuck me later, didn’t you?” Changbin accused, pointing a finger. “Maybe I will fuck you. You’re stretching first, though. Bending over for Minho so many times does horrible things to the body.”

You grinned, resuming your position of touching your toes. “Oh, you’d know, would you?”

Changbin flicked your thigh, still giggling slightly. “Shut up, would you? So fucking sassy, heh. I’m going to massage your legs now.”

You felt his hands pushing you into a position where you were laying down on your front. The strong hands on your back and right shoulder made your cunt pool with heat, but you tried to ignore it. Unsuccessfully, because you were instantly thinking of him manhandling you into other positions when you had finally pliantly dropped to the mat. When did you become like this? You were the horniest you’d ever been.

His strong palms began to knead against your calves. The feeling was delicious, actually - he knew what he was doing. You felt instantly relaxed, letting him ease the ache out of your muscles. When he moved up to your thighs though, you felt that incessant need in your core return and you wanted to scream in frustration. He was taking his time, working out every knot in your legs and you just laid there, arms crossed beneath your head for you to rest on. 

All of a sudden, Changbin’s hands were pushing up against the seam where your asscheek met your thigh. You jumped in surprise. “Huh?!”

Changbin smirked, that same cocky smirk you’d got earlier on. “Feeling tense here, you know? Better stretch you out.” You blinked. They’d definitely had a conversation, either him and Minho or him and Jisung - you weren’t sure which you’d prefer.

Fuck it. You squirmed onto your back, looking up at Changbin. He cocked an eyebrow at you, a mischievous smile still on his full lips. “You gonna fuck me now, Binnie?”

Changbin shook his head again, fondly. “You’re insatiable.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe I do,” he spoke, before diving down to capture your lips in his. He quickly had you pinned to the soft mat underneath you, tongue sliding across your bottom lip before caressing into your mouth with intricacy. You moaned, running your fingers through the soft curls on his head. You tried to wrap your legs around his slim waist, but he was quick to shift you, pressing your legs back into the mat with a firm hand. “No.”

“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you pulled away from the kiss and huffed, hips squirming. Changbin looked appalled.

“I fucking am! Just- you’ll get hurt again. Your legs are sore, remember?” He pressed another peck to your lips, spreading your legs himself manually. He positioned in between them, a promising bulge pressing against your clothed pussy. 

You sighed with pleasure when he started rutting the bulge into you, kissing your neck softly. “There’s no sex position that won’t hurt my legs, Bin.”

“Mm, sure there is. I’ll show you.” 

Well, colour you intrigued. You gripped onto his biceps, fingernails digging into the large muscles when he pressed a kiss to the neckline of your t-shirt. You were quick to push him up slightly to rip your t-shirt off impatiently. He must’ve moved himself, because there was absolutely no chance you’d managed to shift a man of that stature with one hand. Your sports bra was very much less than sexy, and you screwed your face up with embarrassment when you remembered you were wearing it. Changbin didn’t seem to care, because with a quick movement behind your back the bra was unclipped and thrown to the side. 

He immediately latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around your areola. You whimpered, pushing your chest into his mouth. He hummed against the peaked bud before moving to the other one, using his thick fingers to tweak your already lathered with spit nipple. He was still rutting into you, although the movement had gone slightly lower with his ongoing mouth efforts. 

“Mm- Binnie, wanna see you too. Please.”

Changbin pulled back, his mouth wet with spit and his hair all messed up from your hands running through it with passion. He quickly shucked his vest top off, revealing a delightful set of sculpted pecs and a sexy fucking tummy. You wanted to clench your teeth into his tan skin and leave your mark there. This was made worse when you noticed the delectable looking snail trail of hair at the bottom of his tummy, leading down into something you needed to see very soon.

“Oh my God,” you murmured. Changbin tilted his head in confusion. “Your tits.”

Changbin burst out laughing, before clenching each one in a rhythm. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him back down for another heated kiss. Your bare chests rubbed against each other, his full weight pressed against your frame to hold you down against the yoga mat. You whined into the kiss at the stimulation on your nipples, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth in a filthy kiss of swapping spit. His biceps were curled around you, his body pressed tightly on top of you, almost crushing - but you loved it. He was just so much bigger than you.

“You like that, don’t you? Feeling me crushing you,” Changbin muttered into the kiss, stealing little pecks between each word. “I bet you’re fuckin’ soaking. Gonna let me take a look at your pussy, little bunny?”

You moaned, nodding, the pandering to your size kink making your brain blur with arousement. He was pulling off your trainers quickly then, yanking your gym leggings down and leaving your underwear covering your core. He groaned, pushing your legs open softly. You could feel the wet patch on your underwear, slick sticking the fabric back to your cunt everytime you moved. He was no doubt staring at it with lust when one of his hands went to palm his erection through his shorts. 

“Fucking hell, you liked that, didn’t you? You like me calling you my little bunny? You like being smaller than me?”

You nodded eagerly, squirming while he spoke. He was still staring at your pussy, wet patch expanding the more he’d spoken. “Take ‘em off, Binnie. Have a good look,” Changbin sighed, scrunching his eyes shut before nodding. He looked like he could barely control himself. Good. You didn’t want him to. 

His fingers were latching into your underwear then, pulling them down and revealing your pussy, folds sopping wet with your arousal. He gazed down at it, eyes blown wide with lust and his breathing heavy. 

“Fuckin’- Jesus,” Changbin swiped two fingers in between your folds, collecting slick on his fingers. He pushed them into his mouth, moaning at the taste. “So fucking sweet. Look at Binnie’s little bunny making a mess, huh? Do you want a taste?” 

You let your tongue loll out of your mouth, expecting him to push his fingers past your tongue. Instead, he crouched down quickly, swiping his tongue over your core in one thick swipe. He swirled the tip of his tongue around your clit quickly before he was moving just as quick back up to you, gripping your jaw between his thumb and index finger. You didn’t even have time to feel his plush, doll-like lips on your clit, which slightly disappointed you before you realised what he was doing.

Made to open your mouth wide like this, you moaned out unabashedly and loudly when Changbin let your arousal drip from his mouth and into yours. He was watching it enter your mouth. Before you could even swallow it, his tongue was back in your mouth, swiping around the wet cavern and trying to get more of the taste for himself. You let him kiss you for another few seconds, feeling him rutting into your now bare core as he whined into the kiss. He liked it dirty then, you mused.

You pulled away, trying to catch your breath. “Gimme,” you mumbled, thumbs hooking into his loose shorts to try and catch a glimpse at his erection. He pushed your hands away, mumbling incoherently about you being impatient. You huffed, shifting up onto your hands to watch as he pulled the two layers of fabric down altogether. Your jaw dropped. “Oh.”

Changbin looked at you cockily as you took in his length. It was shorter, not as long as Minho’s but he did make up for it more than enough in girth. You thought your jaw would break if you tried to suck him off, and you weren’t entirely sure your hand would even fit around it. Your pussy was going to cry. You wanted it so fucking badly.

A rivulet of precum was leaking from his flushed cockhead, travelling down the veiny shaft and landing in a pleasant thatch of curly, dark hair at the base, wetting the hair. His balls were heavy, full, and you wanted them in your mouth. You wanted it all in your mouth, actually, even if it would kill you trying.

“Pleased?” Changbin quipped. You looked back up at his stupid confident smirk, grabbing him by the wrist and throwing him on the mat beside you. It took all of your strength, but you managed it. He squeaked with surprise, but you ignored him. You were quick to push up onto your knees, shuffling down to be face to face with one of the best cocks you’d ever seen in your life. You needed it, right there in that gym, where you’d probably end up smelling like sweat from a different kind of workout. You were more than glad that you’d locked the door.

You stared at it. “This is going to kill my jaw.”

“You really don’t have to- oh God-“ Changbin was cut off by you sinking your wet mouth onto the tip of his cock. You could already feel the uncomfortable stretch on your jaw, but you were determined, suckling the precum into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head like it was a lollipop. You let your spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his thick cock, feeling amused when he let out a loud, rather high-pitched moan.

Focusing on the cockhead, you let your tongue dip into his slit to swallow the tiny bit of precum that he’d blessed you with. He looked gorgeous, laying back against the mat with his thick thighs spread and a just-as-thick cock hanging between them. One arm was behind his head, massive biceps tensed as you stared up at him and swallowed the tip of his cock repeatedly. You wanted to see him ruined, but you had a feeling his cock was going to ruin you. His jaw was dropped, plush lips letting out deep sighs.

You tried to bob your head and get more of his dick in your mouth, but you were unsuccessful. It seemed it was just too fucking thick, and you were scrunching your face up in disappointment when you suckled on the cockhead one more time before pulling up. Pumping it absentmindedly, you stared up at Changbin. “Too thick.”

Changbin laughed, pulling you up to lay on top of him with ease. “‘S okay, little bunny. I want to take care of you, if that’s okay?” 

Well, how could you say no to that? You smiled, giving him a quick nod, and then you felt his finger reach down and press against your entrance. It was filling you before you knew it, his thick digit stretching your hole open. Eyes rolling back into your head, you moaned and writhed on top of him, grinding your clit into his tummy. 

“Bin- don’t need prep, fucking-!” He ignored you, pushing another finger in alongside the first one.

“Minho warned me you were impatient,” He scoffed, pumping his fingers steadily. He was scissoring them inside of you, trying to stretch your hole out further than it could possibly go. “I should’ve believed him. I don’t know if you saw, but my dick is really fucking thick. Little bunny can’t take it without prep, okay?”

You didn’t argue, like you had with Minho. You had argued with Minho and ended up feeling like your pussy was being split open by Minho’s thick cock, and Changbin was even thicker. Also, you knew that if you’d tried to argue he would’ve just laughed at you and told you not to argue with him, so being a brat was futile. Bouncing on his fingers, you resorted to trying to relax your hole and let it stretch enough to take him. Taking this dick may kill you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try your fucking hardest.

Changbin cooed at you, brushing your hair out of your face with his free hand. “That’s promising, little bunny. You’re taking my fingers so well, huh? I think I’ll put a third one in, okay?”

“Mm, yeah, can take three,” Your eyes fluttered shut when yet another finger went up to your hole, pushing up slowly. He moaned when your pussy clenched tight around the three digits, not wanting to stretch further. He was no doubt imagining the tightness your cunt would give him when his cock got inside of it, and you couldn’t blame him - you were imagining the fucking stretch you were going to get. 

“I think I’ll curl them up, yeah? Just like this?” Changbin questioned you, curling his thick fingers up to reach your g-spot. You immediately keened, and Changbin giggled, continuing to hammer his fingertips into the spongy spot inside of you. “Oh, yeah, like that, huh? I know what you’re thinking. Will I make you cum before I fuck you?”

Well, you weren’t thinking anything, fucked dumb on his fingers - but now you were thinking that. Will he make you cum before he fucks you? You weren’t sure if you wanted to or not, being impatient and wanting his dick inside of you, but he seemed to be playing the long game. You bounced on his fingers again, wanting just a bit of stimulation on the bundle of nerves between your legs in a hope that you could cum quickly and get his dick inside you, like, yesterday.

“B-Bin, I need your cock, you can’t make me cum before, need it-”

Changbin let out an ear ringing laugh again, flipping you over so your ass was flat against the mat. He continued fucking his fingers into you immediately, thudding into your g-spot over and over in a fast rhythm. “I can, and I fucking will, little bunny,” You simply nodded, accepting your fate. “Nothing to make you relax like a world-shattering orgasm, right?”

You scoffed. “Well, I’m not gonna cum if you don’t touch my clit, Bin.” He stopped the movement of his fingers, staring at you with a nonchalant expression.

“I’m not going to touch your clit, and you are gonna cum. G-spot orgasm. Heard of it?”

You blinked. He didn’t mean…? “You’re gonna try to make me squirt?!”

Changbin shrugged, pinning one of your legs down to spread you wider. “You may not squirt, but it’ll feel really fucking good. Squirting is an added benefit for me, to be honest,” He looked cocky, a boyish smile on his face. Oh yeah, he liked it messy. You let out a squeak when his fingers started hammering into your g-spot again, fast and rough, making you want to squirm away from the pleasure. When you tried to, his hand was quick to push your hips back down and just make you take it. It didn’t feel like a dominant move, more a petty, playful move than anything, and you found yourself panting and your head rolling back onto the mat.

“Shit, I can’t, Bin,” You whined, fingernails digging into the mat. You were sure you’d leave little crescent moon shaped indents afterwards. You could feel yourself getting close, never having experienced such intense solo stimulation to your g-spot before - fingers could move in different ways to what a dick could. “Bin, Bin, Binnie- Bin, pleasepleaseplease, hnng-”

Changbin leaned next to you, kissing your neck softly. “No need to beg me, little bunny. Cum whenever you want.”

You gasped out, feeling his palm go to press down on your belly. It made the fingers feel even deeper, and before you knew it, your thighs were shaking in one of the best orgasms you’d ever had in your life. 

“That’s it, there you go,” Changbin whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your ear. You didn’t think you were squirting, but Changbin was completely right, you’d never felt anything like this before. The ecstasy started at your pussy and felt like it was busting out all over your body, making your body shake and your eyes flutter shut. You were whining, moaning, possibly even close to screaming - all just from a few fingers. You came to, your chest flushed and your breathing heavy as you tried to calm down. Changbin was looking straight at you, smiling in that boyish way again and actually looking a bit bashful. “Do you, uh… do you still want more?”

Your eyes flickered down to his erection, still painfully thick and hard. His cockhead was red, leaking. “That’s not even a question, Bin. Gimme.”

Changbin giggled again, letting his fingers slide from your dripping hole. You grimaced at the loss, trying to move your legs back together, but you were shocked when Changbin grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up into his arms. 

“W-What? What are you-?”

He held onto your hips, waiting until your arms were wrapped around his neck securely to stand up. You were suddenly in the air, jaw still dropped while you stared at him in disbelief. He’d really just lifted you up like you were nothing. Your pussy was throbbing again. “Not using your legs, remember? I’m gonna hold you.”

“Y-You- oh.” You gasped when he was holding you close to him, letting one hand drop to position his cock at your entrance. You were being held up completely, one hand at the small of your back to hold you close and not let you fall while his other was finally allowing himself to have some release. Instead of pushing his dick in, his hands went back to your hips, staring into your eyes as he simply let you drop onto his cock, taking it in all at once. “Oh- oh shit, Changbin, it’s so fucking thick!”

Changbin simply grunted, giving you next to no time to adjust before he was grabbing your hips, bouncing you onto his cock. “G-Gonna just fucking use you like my little fucktoy. That… Is that okay, bunny?” He was struggling to get his words out, hands on your hips tightly while he moved you up and down on his cock. Your eyes rolled back into your head, fingers gripping onto his neck tightly. It was such a big fucking stretch, feeling like you were being ripped apart but you loved it, your hole leaking more slick the quicker he bounced you.

“Yeah, yeah, love it, fucking- use me like your fleshlight, Binnie,” You whined, letting your head drop into the crook of his neck. You could smell his sweat, the odour of manliness filling your senses and just proving to turn you on more. He was so manly, made up entirely of thick muscle and a thick fucking cock with a cheerful, loveable personality. The man fucking giggles, for God’s sake. You put your hands on his shoulders for purchase, trying to squirm to ride him yourself, but his tight grip was not one to be matched. 

“I’m not like Minho or Jisung, little bunny, I want to cum inside you and have you - fucking shit -  full of me,” Changbin groaned, pumping you quicker. You could feel his heavy balls slapping against your asscheeks, making you whine. You wish you’d got them in your mouth first. “C-Can I do that? Can I creampie this little pussy, get you to leak me out all day?”

You keened, nodding, eyes blurry. “Mm, yeah, want your cum Binnie. Gonna fill me up? Please, please,” You were babbling, feeling your cunt clench around him tighter at the mention of him filling you up with his cum. Thank God for birth control.

“Told you you don’t need to beg with me. You want me to cream inside of you? This pussy’s so tight, little bunny, it- it’ll be fucking- oh- overflowing, dripping out,” You clenched harder at that, eyes rolling back into your head. You were sure you were drooling on his shoulder. “So tight, so small. Feel so good around my cock, bunny. You’re so small, I can just pick you up like this and bounce you like a toy.”

“‘M not small, Binnie, you’re just fucking strong,” You whimpered. Changbin moaned loudly at this, walking you over to pin you against the wall. You could feel your back slide around on it with the sweat accumulating on your spine, but you really couldn’t give a fuck, focusing on the cock pistoning in and out of your dripping hole. His body against yours would keep you upright if you slid around, his chest nice and sturdy. “So strong, Binnie, shit- you’re so- your arms, your tits, fucking-”

“Yeah? Y-You like them?” Changbin asked, his biceps flexing with the effort of holding your hips up. His cock pumped steadily into you, him almost sounding insecure - you knew it was just the effect of the pleasure you were both feeling.

“Mm, love them. You’re so fucking sexy, Binnie, knew I had to have you,” You tightened your hand on his shoulder to let your other hand go down and rub your clit, rubbing steady circles around the small button. Changbin groaned, his head dropping forward, forehead pressing against yours to gaze down at you touching yourself. You let out loud moans and whines, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your peak. “Binnie, fuck- getting close, oh…”

Changbin nodded against your head, pulling your hips even closer to him to hit you deeper while he bounced you on his cock. You could feel the slick slide of his cock in and out of you, and he didn’t even look anything close to tired despite ramming you up and down on his cock for this long. He had some amazing stamina. “C’mon, pretty bunny. Cream all over my cock, c’mon. Feels good, yeah?”

“Yeah, f-feels so good, Binnie, ah-“ You jolted at a particularly hard thrust, fingers rubbing quicker against your bundle of nerves. “Yeah, yeah, gonna cum!”

“That’s it, you’re so- so fucking good for me. Binnie’s bunny is so good, h-huh? C’mon, let me feel you make a mess on my cock,” Your jaw dropped in a silent scream as your orgasm hit, making a mess of Changbin in a gushing orgasm. He moaned, encouraging you with little coos as you let the pleasure bloom from your pussy and all over your body. 

Changbin didn’t stop thrusting, something that alarmed you a bit, but you could handle it. You let him push you against the wall sharply and start to thrust into you instead, his hips moving on autopilot. You whined through the sensitivity, your walls still fluttering around him as he fucked up into your g-spot. 

You looked down at his cock stretching your hole, seeing the hair at the bottom of his tummy and his pubes wet with your juices. The sight was erotic, primal - it made you wonder if you could cum again. Without thinking too much into it, you dipped your fingers down to collect some of your cum that had amassed in the hair and pressed them into Changbin’s mouth.

He promptly keened into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digits. He let his jaw drop open, your wet fingers dropping out onto his chin. “Mm- gonna c-cum, please, please!” What was with these frat boys and begging you? You were still trying to ignore the sensitivity of your pussy and focus on the pleasure, but you nodded nonetheless.

“Yeah? Cum for me Binnie, come on. Breed me nice and full, yeah?” Changbin whined loudly, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. He was drooling all over your skin, pressing wet, messy kisses into your neck. All of a sudden, his hips halted, and you could feel a new warmth filling you up. He let out one singular whimper, his breath coming in heavy pants as he filled you up. 

You gripped his shoulders, letting him pull his head up to look at you. He gazed at you with watery eyes, before blinking at you and laughing in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, bunny. Fuck!”

You giggled, fingers dancing over his skin affectionately. “Good?” Changbin rewarded you with a scoff, still keeping his arms around you. He carried you over to a bench and promptly sat down, his softening cock still inside you. It was rather comforting. 

“Good? I don’t think I’ve ever behaved like that in my life. I’m normally a bit… softer,” Changbin admitted, his cheeks burning. You cooed, squishing his cheeks in your fingers and making him swat your hands away. “Hey, no!”

“Sorry, Binnie. You’re just super cute.”

“Yeah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, timid and bashful. “Anyway, we should get you cleaned up and dressed. Minho’s gonna be here in about-“

A knock on the door interrupted you both, making you shoot up and off his lap. You clearly over judged your own stability though, because you immediately fell to the floor from how weak your legs were. You squeaked, face planting the ground.

Changbin burst out in hysterical giggles, barely managing to pull himself together to tug his boxers back on and go to unlock the door. You briefly wondered what was going on, why he was so ready to answer the door in so little clothes, and… had he said Minho was coming? Oh. The lock was slid open by Changbin’s deft fingers and then the door followed afterwards, opened just enough to allow a body to enter.

“Um. Are they okay? Did you kill them?” You looked up at the familiar voice, seeing Minho standing there in front of your eyes. You blinked.

“What… why are you here?” You managed to get out. Minho simply laughed mirthlessly. 

“Well, someone’s got to take responsibility for you and take you home when you’re fucked boneless, right?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You laid on Minho’s chest later that day, watching some random anime on his laptop perched on his lap. You weren’t even paying attention, thoughts running rampant. “Minho, is it weird you’re… um, letting me fuck your frat brothers?”

“Letting is the right word,” Minho hummed, fingers scratching over your scalp softly. “You make me feel good. Who would I be to deny my brothers the same pleasure?”

You nodded. It made sense, you supposed. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. But… are we…?”

Minho was brief, a monotone statement. “No more questions. You know what we are.”

You blinked. You nodded again, turning your attention back to the screen.

Whatever you and Minho were, your situationship that you had going on, you were content for the time being. You got to fuck around, live your hot bitch summer, and then go home to the one you wanted the most.

What could be more perfect, really?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @secretjj @phtogravi @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan @skzswife @starsandrqindrops @poody1608 @cutiespaghetti @hwa-0403 @i8rsie @kpopsstuffs @everyonehatesshani @han8ul @velentine143 @vixensss @cuddlehye @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @angeldhd @comicnerd557 @leeknowfz @imwithurmother @hrtsformin @maknae00 @teaholic @ficrecnctskz @tasteskz-sworld

[redsray]

silly batfam hc that at some point Bruce got so sick of the kids fighting over things that he just got all of them a bunch of stickers with their respective logos and went "if something is yours, put your logo on it so others will know. don't use anything that doesn't have your logo without permission." he regrets the choice ever since.

Tim: B please tell Jason that no, he cannot claim the entire bathroom in the left wing to himself

Bruce: Jay ??

Jason: What? My sticker is on it. It's the one with the good shower and now it's MINE

Tim: THAT'S NOT HOW THIS WORKS

Alfred: Master Damian, please refrain from placing Robin stickers on my baking trays.

Damian: I don't expect you to understand my genius, Pennyworth. This ensures the cookies that you bake are mine every time.

Alfred, sighing: No.

Bruce: Why is there a Nightwing sticker on every single chandelier in the house?

Dick, grinning: Why do you think?

Bruce, head in hands: No, Tim, you can't put a Red Robin sticker on every computer in the house.

Tim: Okay, but why not? It's efficient if no one else uses them. I also put one on the 3rd shelf of the fridge. That's mine now.

Bruce: God what have I done

Bruce: Putting a sticker on the Batmobile will not convince me to let you drive it, Duke.

Duke: Aw man I was sure that'd work. Time to go put a sticker on the Batplane

Bruce: ???

Bruce: Jason, you have a Black Bat sticker on your back.

Jason: What? ...Oh, you have one too.

Tim: Everyone has one somewhere on them. Cass stuck them on without anyone noticing.

Dick, holding back tears: CASSSSSS

Cass: Mine.

Bruce: No, Stephanie, you cannot put a sticker on the entire kitchen and claim it as yours.

Steph: What if I put a sticker on all your wallets and credit cards

Bruce: No

Steph: Will all your money be mine???

Bruce: I already pay for everything you do

Steph: ANSWER THE QUESTION B

[munsons-melody]

flinch

summary: you flinch during a fight with eddie

pairing: eddie x female!reader

cw: angst w a fluffy ending, thoughts of abuse

word count: 1.5k words

a/n: wrote this v quickly so it’s not really proofread or anything. i could’ve done it better but i’ve been soo busy :/ might rewrite later

masterlist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

—

you were in eddie's trailer, wayne had just left for work 10 minutes ago, and already you were in some silly little fight with eddie which you didn't expect to escalate how it did

"it's just sometimes guitar players think they're better than everyone else" you stated and eddie rolled his eyes, taking it as a personal jab to his skills

"okay but they almost make the band" he responded from the kitchen, hearing the clank of dishes as the water ran from the faucet

"okay but most of the time they are just assholes who just care about the sex, drugs, and rock n roll life style" you shrugged

"so you think i'm an asshole?" he responded back with a sharp tone and you shook your head

"no i'm talking about the people like mick mars who are so doped up and sleep with hundreds of women and just act like a douchebag" you said with a matter of fact tone

"well it kinda sounds like you're implying that i'm going to turn out like them" he snapped, turning off the water and drying his hands

"no! god no, i'm not saying that! i'm saying once in the spotlight, most people turn into assholes like that" you said, trying your best to stay calm

"so once my band makes it big, you're what- just gonna leave since you think it'll happen to me?" he questioned, turning the corner to meet you in the living room

"of course not! why would you say something like that?" you asked with a louder tone

"well it sounds like that's what you're expecting!" he said, starting to shout

"im not expecting it to happen!" you said, your voice growing to match his

"yeah well i'm pretty sure those 'friends' of yours think it will, they already think i'm in a satanic cult about to sacrifice you" he told you with a sarcastic growl, grabbing some extra dishes he found on the small table to put in the sink

"what the fuck is that about" you asked confused, remembering the party in which you two had met up with a couple of your girl friends but failed to recall them talking about that certain subject

"yeah you didn't hear what they said? we were at that party at steve's house the other night, and they started talking about how i'm some trailer trash wannabe rockstar" he angrily said, flipping on the water to keep working on the leftover dishes from the previous night

"okay first off, i never heard them say anything like that! second, why were you even hanging out with my friends if i wasn't there?" you rebutted, questioning him

"because i was trying to be a caring boyfriend and find you since robin said you looked a little too drunk and i didn't want you to hurt yourself" he snapped back

the volume of the argument kept escalating, which brought knots to your stomach. you hadn't really had fights with eddie and now that you're in one, you badly wanted to go back to how it was

"well i'm sorry i was trying to enjoy myself at the party but also i have never heard them say anything like that before in my life" you told him, starting to pace around, not knowing what else to do

"oh great and now you're defending them, what- do you agree with them?" he asked as you started to pick up empty cans and put them in the bin

"i do not agree with anything they said! but i've known those girls for a good few years now and i know they wouldn't say that about anyone" you tried and he laughed, putting his head down

"you are unbelievable!" he screamed and that's when you didn't care if you started yelling, the anger bubbling up inside you

"oh really so you want to talk about what friends have said about us? okay, well remember that time we were at the hideout and your friend hank said that he liked your other girlfriend before me better and was annoyed that you're whipped for some girl who was less pretty than she was!" you screamed, tears pricking in your eyes

you remembered that moment all too well when hank mentioned how much prettier eddie's ex girlfriend was, and your heart sank but you laughed it off, coming up with some smart comeback to brush off the pieces of your shattered confidence

"that was a joke! you even laughed!" eddie rebutted, slamming a cabinet door shut. you flinched at the loudness of it but he didn't see with his back turned to you

"i only laughed because i was uncomfortable! i didn't know what else to do!" you said, wiping away a tear that fell down your cheek

eddie angrily stomped out of the kitchen to his room and you followed, blinking away tears

"and i also don't exactly remember you defending me and telling him off!" you screamed and he turned to look at you

"because i didn't know you were uncomfortable!" he screamed back, looking around his desk for something

"well you should know from common sense that anyone hearing that would not find it amusing!" your anger was consuming you as you watched eddie throw a shirt from his desk to his bed

"well i guess i'm just not a very good boyfriend then!" he said throwing his arms up in the air

you stepped back, bringing your arms up in a defensive stance as your head turned, somehow expecting there to be an impact from his hand

eddie realized what happened as he stared at you with wide eyed and you slowly moved your head to look at him with your arms still up

you moved your arms down as eddie just stood there in shock, and you moved to wipe a couple more tears of frustration from your face

"y/n... did you think i was going to hit you?" he asked softly, a huge change in tone from what you previously were hearing, his stance deflating

you gulped put a small "no" not wanting him to think that you'd think he'd do such a thing. you knew he would never, but it was a natural reaction that you instantly regretted

"baby i..." he trailed off, taking a small step forward towards you. you didn't move back which he took as a good sign

"you know i would never ever do that to you, right?" he asked, taking another small step forward and putting a hand on your arm which was intertwined with your other arm, folded across your chest

"i know..." you muttered out, moving your head to look away from him, keeping your arms crossed

"can i please hold you?" he asked gently and you nodded, slowly moving your body into his open arms as he wrapped them around you, engulfing you into a giant bear hug

a few more tears fell down as he held you close to his body, and you leaned your head into his chest

"i'm so so sorry for yelling and getting mad, and i'm sorry i didn't defend you when hank said that bullshit, i love you so so so much" he spoke softly, his hand coming up and gently placing it on the back of your head

“and i want you to know that i promise you i would never hit you or do anything of the sort, i’m so sorry you thought that” he said with a shaky voice

"i'm sorry too," you started to apologize, feeling guilt run through your veins from not defending him earlier, and for reacting the way you did

"i didn't realize they said those things, and i know for a fact you aren't going to end up like mick mars or nikki sixx or any of those drug abusing rockstars, well maybe only with the level of rock n roll fame part, not the drugs" you joked with a sniffle

"and what about the sex?" he said with a chuckle, and you moved your body to face him, wrapping his arms around his waist and you moved your eyebrows up in a surprising way, pushing your head back in slight confusion

"you know, sex, drugs, rock n roll- they're a package deal... and obviously there's gonna be no drugs- well okay maybe weed, then a huge amount of rock n roll fame... what about the sex?" he joked making you smile with a small giggle

"well maybe, only if you'll still love and want me when you're big and famous" you told him with a small laugh, a smile growing on his face

"oh baby i will always love you and want you for the rest of my days" he said sweetly before leaning in and giving you a small kiss

when he pulled away he looked into your eyes, a hand moving to the back of your neck

"then show me how much you mean it," you said with a small smirk as he pulled you in for another kiss

he leaned in, kissing you passionately, his tongue fighting with yours as you moved you hands to slightly scratch down his back

"i- love- you" he said between breaths as he continued to kiss you, and you knew he really meant it

fin.

[notjustjavierpena]

Tremble

A/N: A short addition to DILF!Joel to get out of a little slump. Hope you enjoy this PWP.

Summary: Joel loves making your thighs tremble.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), domestic bliss, dirty talk, edging, fingering, clit stim

Word count: 1.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48682528

Tremble

Joel loves it when your thighs shake. It’s been like this since he made you squirt the first time, and it will be such a craving for him to watch your fleshy thighs jiggle that he sometimes teases your orgasms near and lets them get away multiple times before finally giving in. It always works, he argues, and you always tell him that no one has ever made you come as he has. 

The problem with this obsession of his is that he will also make your thighs shake anywhere and anytime. Even now, he ambushes you as you are cooking dinner for him and Sarah, who may be home from soccer practice any minute now. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you scold without really fighting him, letting his calloused hands undo your jeans in front of the stove. You absentmindedly turn down the heat and stir the vegetables in the pan, making sure to at least not burn them. 

“I think you need a reminder of how much I got laid before you,” he says with his nose pressed into the spot behind your ear.

“Yeah, yeah, you didn’t, I know.”

“So let me have this?” 

It’s his way of asking permission. You don’t turn around in his arms like you normally would. Instead, you tut disapprovingly, “Sarah will be home any minute, I’m not going to let you fuck me over her dinner.”

“I just wanna make you feel good, baby,” he tugs your jeans down over the swell of your hips, “Won’t need more than my hands. You love my hands, don’t you?”

“I do love your hands.”

“Just keep your eyes on that dinner, sweetheart, I’ll make sure you don’t double over,” you feel his chest press into your back, arms tightening around your waist as both his hands slide down the front of your stomach and into your underwear. He cups your mound, and warmth already starts to pool between your legs. You sigh softly.

Joel runs two fingers through your folds, spreading you open for a moment before moving them upwards to pull the hood of your clit back. His free hand reaches up to his mouth, and he wets his fingers by sucking on them for a second. 

“Hurry,” you complain but then his index finger is on your exposed clit and you fall back against his chest, moaning as he circles the sensitive nub. He starts up a rhythm, building something up that you want him to tear down again.

“You know it doesn’t take long for you when I do this,” he murmurs into your neck, breathing coming out in small puffs against your skin. He is enjoying this, teasing you towards an orgasm and pulling back the second you grip the edge of the kitchen table. 

His middle finger slips down and into you, relieving the pressure on your clit for a moment to make sure you don’t come the second he touches it again. You push into his hand, grabbing the pan to take it off the ring so you can give in completely. 

“Joel, just make me— ah fuck,” you moan louder than the first time around, feeling the effect of having been worked up once before. 

“Need to see those legs tremble for me, even if it means edging you in the kitchen,” he says quietly, voice having dropped an octave. You can feel his dick poke into the small of your back, hard and aching for attention, but as much as you want him inside of you, you know there’s no time for that. 

It’s like he has read your mind. He chuckles, grinding his hips against you with a groan, “Later. I can fuck you senseless later. After dinner. At least now I know you’re ready for me.”

“Gross,” you say with a giggle that’s interrupted by your voice breaking into a whimper. You can feel two fingers on your clit again, avoiding rubbing directly on it now that it is fully hard, exposed, and has already been edged once. He smooths the pads of his fingers along the side, your knees buckling and hitting the glass window of the oven. You wince, “Ow. Joel, for fuck’s sake.”

“Shut up, baby, I got you.”

You don’t know if you believe that fully with how lost he is in your pleasure, placing your hands on the edge of the tabletop once again. You stretch your arms to make sure you won’t fall forwards. 

You near your high for the second time, and you give yourself away so easily with how your breathing sounds and how your heartbeat must be so loud that Joel can hear it over your heavy breathing. 

“Fuck,” you say in unison.

And then he stops again, making you groan with frustration. Your toes curl in your socks, fingers straining to the point where it hurts as they grab at the kitchen table even harder. 

“Next one, I promise,” he reassures, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Both his hands relent, letting go of whatever they are doing so he can smooth his palm soothingly over your stomach and mound. 

“We won’t be able to have dinner ready for when Sarah’s home,” you breathe, “Do it now.”

You can practically hear Joel roll his eyes, “Call child protection, how will she survive?” 

Joel’s hands go down again. He settles back his fingers so he can pull back the hood of your clit again, causing you to hiss as it’s exposed again. Then, his index finger on the other hand taps harshly and directly onto your swollen nub. You cry out as he suddenly presses the finger down before moving it up and down. You fly forwards, but he is quick to catch you with that hand that isn’t rubbing you off. 

You push into it to make your orgasm approach faster, rapid little movements of your hips making your chest warmer where Joel’s hand is holding you. He helps you, another finger finding your clit and them going quickly from side to side. You are so close that your brain is fuzzy, using your last brain power to make sure you don’t place your palm on the cooking ring. 

“Heart’s beating like a little rabbit,” he growls, “Do I get what I want?”

Yes. He always does. 

You come with a string of filthy words, Joel’s hand pressing into your chest despite your severely ragged breathing. Without his support, you surely would be on the floor right now though, because something takes hold of the part of your brain that controls your legs. You do a full-body shake, slick gushing into the cotton fabric of your underwear to the point where you might need to change them for fear of it seeping through into your jeans. 

“Jesus Christ,” Joel says behind you, so hard against you that it feels like you’re pressing into something else than him. How he is going to survive till after dinner is a mystery to you. 

He steadies you by holding your hips as you try to stand completely upright again. When you succeed, you pull up your jeans with shaky hands, buttoning and zipping them. You turn around in his arms, smirking up at his hazy eyes, “Thank you.”

He hums, “You’re welcome.”

“Now,” you say confidently, trying to hide how fuzzy your mind is from post-orgasmic bliss. You daringly palm him over his own pants, “You better start thinking of your naked grandma. Can’t go around sporting this.”

“Little devil,” he says with a hitched breath.

You let go, then leave him aching in the kitchen.

[topazias]

the c in NRC stands for cat

synopsis: in which heartslabyul deals with a cat loving no-magic having ramshackle prefect. (headcanons) gn!yuu

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

when he saw you clinging to the raccoon-cat-thing at the entrance ceremony, he did not know how to react.

normal people would panic. normal people would avoid a fire-breathing monster-cat-whatever that was spewing absolute nonsense.

apparently not you, though. although, one could say you already aren’t normal, considering the lack of magic. it wasn’t just not that much potential, you were basically in the negatives.

anyways, cats.

he got a peek under your ceremonial robes, and you were wearing..

a pajama shirt with a cat print on it. it looked horrendous.

riddle himself grew up with.. well, a cat. beastperson. so he probably would only have a surface level of appreciation for their greatness.

6/10 for cat lovers, i guess. he wouldn’t really mind, but he’d think it a tad strange. lower points because it took him a while to finally start letting grim into areas of festivity. 

TREY CLOVER

this guy has siblings. like, siblings siblings. he’s used to being around people with strange interests (his brother tried to feed him a live insect once. not fun).

so, i’m sure he appreciates that your interests are on the much safer side of the wide, wide spectrum. 

except when the two of you hang out while he’s baking and suddenly ace and deuce are complaining about cat hair in their tarts.

please do not bring your cats in the kitchen, thank you very much.

he’d feed your cat(s)! very sweet guy.

8/10 for cat lovers! good ascend from riddles, except two points taken from him because one, the Cat™ isn’t allowed in the kitchen and two, he just seems like a dog person to me.

CATER DIAMOND

please do not turn the great grim into a marketable plushie.

cater.

just kidding, he wouldn’t do that.

or would he?

i think he’d be a good cat co-parent! just like trey, i think he’d feed your cat when you can’t, he’d catsit while you’re in class.. etc, etc.

mostly because the posts he makes of your cat blow up, but also because he likes your cat!

the level fluctuates depending if this cat is grim or not. please do not ask me why.

8/10 for cat lovers! not bad, not bad at all! except, now there’s merch of grim- and while he’s proud of himself (this is only to be expected for the great grim! according to him), you just wish you got some of the revenue.

ACE TRAPPOLA

no.

just, no.

i think he’d look at a cat litter and go, “what’s that?”. maybe he’d even try to sniff it.

gives off grew up with a dog vibes, i don’t know why.

he goes like “EUGH” when he finds cat hair in the food you made for him.

you felt kinda bad, but he ate it anyways while complaining. you were pretty conflicted.

he’d be.. i don’t know. unremarkable. not that good, though.

5/10 for the cat lovers. no comment. this gremlin, i swear.

DEUCE SPADE

he LITERALLY isn’t any better than ace.

maybe he used to feed some of the stray cats on the way home from school when he was in elementary, but that’s probably the extent of his experience.

will also complain about cat hair. politely.

“uhm.. i think grims hair is in my soup?” kind of polite. except he’s grimacing and staring at grim like the cat just insulted his mother and all his ancestors.

he will also sniff your cat litter. and grim will laugh in the heartslabyul first year duo’s faces.

thanks, grim.

5/10 for the cat lovers.. again. he’s really just the same. he’d probably be nicer than ace, but the latter just has more experience with pets. probably. hopefully.

special guest, IDIA SHROUD!

do i even need to say anything?

you two have matching cat print pajamas. ortho would cry tears of joy if he could.

you bring your cats to ignihyde and you all hang out. <3

you, idia, and your 23 cats. it really is the life.

he paid you in genesis crystals for permission to pat one of your cats on the head.

you two have a cat lovers gc where you just send cat pictures and talk about your cats, very fun.

10/10 for cat lovers!  first ever 10/10, and it’s from idia shroud? riddle is seething. great cat parent! though, he’s a bit attached. it’s okay, though, he buys your cats toys.

[00-jammy-00]

Hii jammy!! Dunno if You could do hcs of a yandere! Lovesick! Detective?

Bonus points if he is plainly intimidating, like scary dog privilages of smth, and has already planned to kidnap the reader, also he is strong and buff and hell

Bye bye pooks! <3

Oh and also, can I be 😾 anon?

Yan!Detective HC’s

Yan!Detective x GN! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, isolation, gaslighting, nsfw mentions

——————————————————————————————————

Yan!Detective who was assigned to help you for his new case. Your house was broken into? They only took your valuables and didn’t even touch you?? What a wasted opportunity.

Yan!Detective who promises you he’ll find your robber, using the pad of his thumb to brush away those pretty tears. His coworkers sit behind you both with a shocked look on their faces. Last time someone cried in front of him, he had rolled his eyes and scoffed.

Yan!Detective who starts to get to know you, this is a simple case, the robber was clumsy and left his fingerprints everywhere but he can’t let you go so soon.

Yan!Detective who offers to let you stay with him until he catches the thief. You’re not bothering him, don’t worry. He offers to sleep on the couch, desperate for you to sleep in his bed so when you’re gone he can hump the pillows but you offer him something even better.

Yan!Detective whose jaw physically drops when you offer to just sleep in the same bed as him and just stick to each other’s side. He knows what you’re doing, he can see the little blush on your face you naughty thing.

Yan!Detective who holds you tight when you get closer, burying his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, just the smell had his cock aching.

Yan!Detective who has already killed your robber yet he still pretends to work the case, just so he can see you in his kitchen, in his shirt, sipping coffee from one of his coffee mugs. He doesn’t care if you’re a guy or not, he’s going to make you his pretty little housewife.

Yan!Detective who started isolating you from everyone after he finally closed the case, pretending to get in a brawl with the robber. Who’s that? Your friend? No she’s not? What if she was working with that thief?

Yan!Detective who doesn’t feel a single bit of guilt, not for isolating you, not for practically keeping you locked in his house and especially not for fucking you into the mattress. He’s gentle, sometimes, he knows you prefer it rough anyway.

Yan!Detective who refuses to buy you clothes, you can wear his clothes, no underwear though, it only gets in the way, especially when you’re in the kitchen and he’s got you bent over the counter where you had been doing the dishes. Fuck, you’re just the perfect housewife for him aren’t you? ——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[hundredandsix]

crawl home to her—(e.w.)

jackson!ellie x fem!reader

✩ wc: 7.6k (sorry)

✩ summary: Ellie puts too much on herself. You are starting to see the cracks forming and she needs you to help her let go before she shatters.

✩ cw: mdni(18+) bottom!ellie, hurt/comfort, minor angst, ellie being annoying, thigh riding, oral (ellie receiving), fingering (ellie receiving), very minor dirty talk

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

To your annoyance, Ellie needs time after her patrols before you head to her place. Your instinct is to smother her in hugs as soon as she walks back through the gates, but you've learned that she needs to be alone and decompress before facing any company.

After passing the time by clearing the snow piled on your windowsill, you decide she's been alone for long enough. You don't know what you're walking into, but if Jesse's crude words were anything to go by, you have a very distraught girlfriend on your hands.

"Walked around with a stick up her ass today. Needs to get laid or somethin'. Isn't that your job?"

You cut through Joel's backyard to get to her studio. He gives you a little wave from the kitchen window as you cross the dirt pathway. If you squint your eyes, you can see he's wearing the flannel shirt you and Ellie found for him last Christmas.

She doesn't answer when you knock, but you let yourself in. A thick layer of moisture hits you as you enter. The steam from her shower is still fogging a few of the windows.

She doesn't react as you enter, but you can tell she's looking at you from the corner of her eye. You shut the door with a gentle thud.

Ellie Williams is definitely a sight. Clad in only a sports bra and a pair of black boxers, her damp hair hangs limp and out of its usual bun. You can smell her shampoo as you get closer, sandalwood and a hint of something earthy.

By the time you sit next to her on the lopsided couch, she hasn't said a word. You cross your legs, waiting for her to speak first, but the silence stretches between you. Rolling your eyes at her stubbornness, you take her hand in yours.

"You doing okay? "

She scrubs her hands over her face, elbows resting on her knees. Her body sinks in, almost as if she was waiting for permission to release the tension.

"I'm good. Just tired."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Her stubbornness never ceases. Scooting closer to her, you wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into your chest. She lets out a sigh and hesitates for a moment before giving in and letting you hold her. You're not just holding her, but also the weight she can't seem to carry on her own. Heavier than her body and stronger than her resolve.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There really is nothing to talk about. I just-I don't know. I feel..."

She stops, fiddling with your hand in hers. Her fingers run between yours, massaging the callouses that developed from years of work in Jackson. You slide your free hand up the bare skin of her back and gently massage her shoulder.

"You feel what?"

She doesn't answer right away, and you know she needs a distraction. You lean down to get a better look at her face. Her eyes are glazed over and her lower lip is jutting out slightly. You want to bite it.

You put both your hands on her shoulders and push her into a sitting position on the floor between your legs.

She turns around, quirking an eyebrow, but she quickly relaxes when she feels your nails gently digging into her scalp. Taking advantage of her loose hair, you run your fingers down from her roots, giving a gentle tug when you reach the split ends.

Her jaw unclenches as her shoulders fall from her tight posture. The tension is coming off her in waves, releasing with each movement of your fingers. Your hands speak what your words can't express.

I can bear it, Ellie. Tell me.

It's rare for her to let you touch her like this. So gentle and sweet. She has always been a giver, liking the control that came with looking after you.

She let you touch her of course, but it was never like this. You never had time to examine the intricacies that made her up. The jagged scar on her left shoulder. The constellation of freckles decorating her upper arms.

Ellie would worship your body if you let her, kneeling between your legs as if you were an altar. She would drag your hands away from her body, pinning them down, maneuvering you to her pleasure. You could never get more than a few scarce caresses in before she was redirecting you, so focused on your enjoyment she was willing to overlook her own.

It was about control for her, especially when it came to you and your pleasure. The need to feel needed overwhelmed her and showed in every action she took toward you.

As your fingers tangled in her auburn hair, you wondered if that was the issue. She took too much on, thinking she could handle it. Most of the time, she could bear it, but it was never without a cost. She strapped each burden to her back, piling them on with the others. Ellie was caving from the outside in, and you knew she needed someone to relieve her, to take that crippling weight off her shoulders.

"Ellie, what's wrong, babe? Talk to me."

She sighed, trying to lean her head into her chest, but got caught by your fingers in her hair.

"I'm sorry."

You slide your hand down the angles of her jaw and to her chin, turning her face to meet yours. She's too slow to hide the shocked expression in her eyes. But as that fades, something else replaces it when your thumb grazes the underside of her bottom lip. Desire.

Her eyes darken, and you see something new in her. Ellie's mouth parts, and you can feel her warm breath against your hand. Her tongue slips between her teeth to wet her bottom lip under your gaze.

"Don't you dare apologize. You never have to be sorry for how you're feeling. Not with me."

And just like that, the moment is over. Her eyes soften and your grip on her face loosens. She nods, turning back around.

"'Okay."

Her voice comes out raspy. Maybe from disuse or maybe from something more. She grabs your hand and brings it back to her hair.

You chuckle as you resume your movements, fingers leaving her scalp to gently trace the bare skin of her back. The sound of her gentle laughter graces your ears when she feels you drawing little hearts on her skin. Like church bells chiming on a Sunday afternoon.

When she speaks, it shatters the silence she's built between you. It's so loud it almost startles you.

"I guess I just feel like...nothing should be wrong. I have everything I've wanted, but-"

A knock at her front door cuts her off follow by muffled shouting.

"Ellie! It's Jesse!"

The pounding on her door continues, and you have never considered murder to such an extent before.

She turns to look at you, and you can feel her tense up beneath your hands. The bells aren't chiming anymore. All that's left is the clang of metal against metal.

Before she can answer, you shout, "She's busy! Get lost."

You see that look in her eyes again, her pupils so large it almost makes her green eyes look sinister. Like a snake coiling and baring its fangs. She's ready to strike.

Jesse ignores you, shouting again, "Maria wants to see you. She said it would just be a sec."

Ellie tries to speak, but her voice gets stuck behind her words. She clears her throat before replying.

"Okay. At the house? Tell her I'll be there in a few."

"Fine, but you better be in a good mood when you come out!"

The sounds of his footfalls dim as he gets further from Ellie's safe haven. She falls back against you, letting her full body weight be supported by your legs. Her hands move up to her hair, starting to pull it back with the elastic on her wrist, but you push her hands away.

"I've got it," you say, taking the elastic from her wrist and sliding it to your own.

You divide her hair into two sections, starting a braid with the whispy front pieces. When you reach the end of her short hair, you braid the remaining strands and slip the elastic on.

She reaches up to slide a tattooed wrist over your work, fingers getting caught in the sections of the braid.

"What are you doing to me?" she asks as you start on the other side.

"Braiding your hair."

You don't have to see her face to know she's wrinkling her nose

You take an extra elastic from your own wrist to secure the other side, and as soon as you finish, she's rushing to the mirror in her little bathroom.

"I look like a dork, Y/N!"

"You do not! You look so cute!"

She emerges from the bathroom, a pink blush dusting over her freckles. You stand up from the couch as she rushes over to her dresser, throwing on a green flannel and a pair of dark jeans.

To your amusement, the shirt looks almost identical to the one Joel is wearing. You take a moment to wonder if Ellie will be like Joel when she's older. Cooking in her kitchen with greying hair under the rays of the afternoon sun.

"Yes, because cute is exactly the vibe I want to give off," she deadpans, throwing in an eye roll for good measure.

"Oh, shut up. You know you love it," you say, reaching over to twirl one of the braids with your finger.

She pries herself out of your grasp and sits on the edge of her bed to put on her shoes. You follow her to the twisted mass of unmade sheets and blankets.

"Plus..." you say, moving behind her, "they are multi-purpose."

"What?" she asks, finishing up lacing her shoes.

You chuckle at her genuine confusion as you wrap your fingers around the left braid, tugging gently. Moving closer behind her, you press your body into her. You wonder if she can feel your racing heart against her back.

"Handles," you whisper into her ear.

Ellie bolts up from the bed, blushing even darker than you thought possible. You wonder if you've crossed a line, but her reactions earlier were egging you on, making you wonder how far you can take her before she just snaps.

The load on her shoulders needs to be lessened. You could take it from her. Give her a rest. Giving up hope when you see the shocked look in her eyes, you cross your legs on the bed as if you'd said something innocent.

She scratches the back of her neck, avoiding eye contact with you. The afternoon sunshine catches on her tattoo and she looks so adorable you can barely stand it. You just want to fucking devour her.

"Um, I'm gonna head to Maria and Tommy's. I don't think it'll take long."

"Do you want me to wait for you?" you question, knowing she'll say yes.

She makes her way to the door and you follow her. She's touching the braids again, and you wonder if she's thinking of what you said. You wonder if she wants it as much as you to. To let you take control for a little bit.

"If you don't mind," she says, hand on the worn doorknob.

"Yeah, I'll be here when you get back."

She grabs your waist, her grip tight against your skin. Ellie plants a quick kiss on your lips as she leaves, and you can feel the curve of her smile against your mouth. Before she's out of the door, you reach out to tug on her braid one last time.

"You're such a perv!" she shouts as she makes her way down the steps.

You wince at her loudness, hoping Joel didn't hear her.

"Only for you, babe!"

You watch her through the window as she makes her way to Maria's. She looks behind her to see if you're still watching, and when she thinks the coast is clear, she rips the elastics from her braids.

She shakes her hair with the wildness of a wet dog. Your heart skips a beat when she uses your purple elastic to pull her hair into a bun at the base of her neck. Her own black one remains on her wrist.

You roll your eyes and think of all the things you wish you could do for her. To her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The gentle sound of Ellie's door closing wakes you from your slumber. You didn't mean to fall asleep, but Ellie's bed was so comfortable. It was never made, but the five blankets she had provided a weight almost as comforting as Ellie herself. Shooting up from the bed, you look over to the clock on her nightstand.

3:23 am

Why the hell is she getting back so late? You rush out of bed, still wearing your jeans and T-shirt from the previous day.

"Ellie?" you call out, but she doesn't answer.

Your eyes fall to the closed bathroom door. Light is leaking through the cracks, and because of the small space, you can hear faint grunts of pain from the other side. Rather than questioning how she managed to lock herself in the bathroom so quickly, you rush to the door and throw it open.

Ellie's sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her shirt and pants discarded in a bloody pile on the floor. So much hair has fallen loose from her bun that she might as well have been wearing it down. Your eyes scan her over, trying to find the source of the blood.

There's a gash on her side. Not too bad, but deep enough that it would need stitches. A painful-looking, yellowing bruise surrounds the area of the cut near her hip.

"What the fu-"

"I didn't mean to wake you up," she says, eyes cast down.

She has a needle and string in her hand, but you can tell by looking at it that it won't be long enough.

You sink to your knees in front of her, prying the needle from her hands and letting it rest on the bathtub next to her thighs. Once again, she's in her sports bra and boxers, but this time it's not sensual. She's covered in blood, her eyes are bloodshot, and you're fucking scared.

"Ellie! That's not... fuck! Why are you back so late? You already went on patrol this morning, and Jesse said it was supposed to be quick."

"I'm sorry. I-I talked to Maria and then Clove got sick. And they needed someone to cover her-"

"Ellie," you say her name again. She's so fucking stubborn, but you're hoping you can talk some sense into her.

"I'm not gonna sit here and watch you do this to yourself."

"Well somebody has to do it!"

"You're right. Somebody does. And I know you think you can handle it and take it all. Physically you can, but it's killing you! When is the last time you even slept?"

She doesn't respond, and you'd like to think it's because she knows you're right. Her downcast eyes suggest she has no comeback or retort to leave you with.

"And why are you trying to do this yourself? The string is too short and you haven't even cleaned it all the way," you say, gesturing to the gash on her side, still dripping blood.

She still doesn't answer, auburn hair falling in her face as she tilts her head down.

"You had to have deliberately hidden this because there's no way in hell Maria or Jesse or Dina or whoever you were with would have let you go off on your own in this state."

"Are you done?" she finally says.

She meets your eyes and you're both glaring at each other.

"No, I'm not actually. There are plenty of things I want to say to you, but we can do that when you're not bleeding all over your fucking bathroom."

You reach past her, turning the faucet on. The water is freezing cold at first, and you're tempted to push her into it, but you turn the knob until it's lukewarm. Ellie grabs your wrist when you reach down to plug the drain.

"It's fine. I don't need-"

"No," you say, and to your irritation, you can feel tears fill your eyes.

"You're going to let me take care of you. I don't care what you think you can and can't handle. I don't want to hear another fucking word."

Ellie looks like she wants to say something, lips parting but then closing a few times. She shuts her mouth for the final time, stunned by the break in your voice and your watery eyes.

Reaching up to help her take off the rest of her clothes, you scan her for injuries again. She has a few cuts and bruises but nothing as bad as the gash on her side.

Ellie stands on shaky legs, gripping onto your forearm for balance, as she steps into the bath. The water almost immediately turns a murky red around her ankles.

"You know better than this, El," you scold.

She shakes her head and starts washing some of the dirt and blood off of her arms. You don't know if it's hers or someone, something else's and you feel a pang of fear in your chest.

You push your hands away and replace hers with your own. The water looks disgusting, so you reach for the drain and let the blood and sweat sink away.

Turning on the water again you grab a cloth hanging in the bath. Grabbing her chin, you tilt her head towards you and begin to gently wash her face with the cloth. She closes her eyes, leaning into your touch. The dirt, grime, and blood disappear to reveal the freckle-faced girl you're used to seeing.

From this angle, she just looks like a girl. Your girl. Not a woman who has slaughtered hundreds of infected and can bring grown men to their knees.

"You like it when I do that," you observe, your anger beginning to dissipate.

It's a simple statement, and at first, you aren't sure if she even heard you. But her eyelashes flutter, eyes moving behind closed lids. For a second, you forget that you're mad at her because she looks so pretty like this. Green eyes shut and her pink lips in a pout.

"Yeah," she says, barely a whisper.

She knows you're talking about your fingers gripping her face, turning her where you need her. And she likes it.

But when you lean down to rinse the cloth, you see the gash on her side and it comes back to you. The fear you felt. The anger you had towards her for not taking care of herself.

You release her chin and tilt her head into the stream of water to scrub her hair. She still hasn't opened her eyes, trusting you completely to support her head and prevent her from falling.

When her hair is clean, you help her rinse herself off one last time before shutting off the water. Her eyes open and she looks at you from the bath, sitting cross-legged and looking up at you like you hung the moon and stars.

It made you feel so powerful. Ellie Williams kneeled before you, offering herself bare to your touch. Waiting for you to tell her what to do next.

"Come on," you hold out your hand to help her up.

She stands in the bath on shaky legs and lets you guide her onto the floor mat. You grab her towel hanging on the back of the door and help her dry herself off.

You kneel down to look at her wound and it's mostly stopped bleeding. Now clean, it's ready for stitches. Grabbing for the needle, you stop when you see her shivering. The cool air in the bathroom sent goosebumps over her scarred skin. You help her ring her wet hair out one more time, and wrap the towel around her shoulders.

"I'm going to grab you something to wear. You're freezing."

As you begin to walk away, Ellie grabs your wrist, forcing you to bring her along with you.

"Ellie."

"What? I want to come too," she says, the hint of a smirk painting her face.

Rolling your eyes you say, "It's like six feet away, babe."

But she gives you that look again, cocking her head to the side, and you give in, leading her to her dresser.

After digging through the drawer, you produce a pair of black briefs for her and an oversized shirt that you always slept in when you stayed over. It would be easy enough to pull over her shoulder while you stitched her wound.

She drops the towel to the floor. You help her pull on the clothes, but it is more difficult than you thought it would be. She winces as you guide her arms over her head, a small bead of blood oozing from her open wound.

Ellie limps over to her couch and turns on a lamp next to it. She gingerly sits on the middle of the sofa but won't make eye contact with you.

"There's more light over here," she responds to your raised eyebrow.

The towel feels heavy in your hands as you bring it back to the bathroom. You hang it up and grab the first aid kit before returning to the small form of your girlfriend on her couch.

You kneel in front of her and start laying out the supplies on the coffee table. She watches you, those snake-green eyes following your fingers as you sterilize the needle and cut the thread.

You reach up to pull the shirt over her left shoulder, and you're face-to-face with half of her bare chest. Your brain is telling you that this is absolutely not the time to feel desire, but you can't help it. Ellie never lets you look at her like this.

That's not to say she's shy. Because she's not. She just usually doesn't let you focus on her like this. Her nipples were hard from the cold air, and you're thinking about putting your mouth on her before you remember where you are and what you're doing. You chide yourself. God, you are absolutely fucked, Y/N.

But Ellie notices. You look up from her chest to meet her eyes, and you think that maybe she's starting to get an idea of what you want. And what you know she needs.

"Are you going to tell me what happened now?" you ask to distract her as the needle sinks into her skin.

She winces, tattooed hand flying to your shoulder. Her nails dig into you as you continue. The crescent moons her nails leave on your skin are the good kind of burn.

"You're going to laugh at me. It's really stupid," she says, eyes following your hands.

"Well if it's stupid, I probably will."

She lets out a gentle laugh, leaning down to look at your progress. You are about a quarter of the way through, but you couldn't get the right placement and your hand is cramping from the awkward angle.

Trying again, you still can't get the angle right and you let out a groan of frustration. But an idea pops into your head. You stand up to sit on the couch next to her.

"C'mere," you say, guiding her to sit in your lap.

She straddles you and wow this is new.

You grab her hips to move her to the side a bit so you could get a better angle. She shifts so she's straddling your right thigh, and fuck. You can feel the heat of her — No.

No. No. No. No.

Focus.

Ellie's watching your hands as you resume the stitches, shifting against your thigh to get comfortable. She takes a sharp intake of breath, causing you to abruptly stop.

"You okay? Sorry, it's just easier to reach you this way."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

You've never heard her sound like this before. So breathy and her voice so low that you almost didn't hear her. You have to force yourself to pry your eyes away from her face and go back to the stitches.

"You never told me what you did."

She's shifting against your thigh again. You want to tell her to stop because it's so hard to focus when she does that.

"Oh," she laughs again. "I fell through the floor in this old house. Got stuck and Dina had to help me out."

"Babe. You fell through the floor?"

This has happened enough times that you feel like you need to start strapping a cushion to her backpack.

"Yes. Didn't even see any fuckin' clickers. It was supposed to be fast but the basement was so deep it took forever to get out."

"Damn, with your injuries I thought you got stuck in a hoard or something."

"Nope. Just rotted wood."

You tie off the last stitch and reach over to set the materials on the end table with the lamp. She doesn't move to get off you. Instead, you can feel her move against you again, but this time, she tries to hide it. She does it when you're moving as if you won't notice.

But that's the thing about Ellie. If you don't pay attention to her little moments and eccentric actions, you will miss a lot. She's full of hidden surprises if you look closer.

You want to say something, but you don't know if it's intentional or not so you stay quiet. Maybe she's just in pain. She's got a nasty cut and a couple of huge bruises surrounding it.

But you don't want her to move yet, so you grab her hips, being careful to avoid her cut. You're face-to-face and it occurs to you just how tired she looks. Her dark circles are such deep purple that you want to go back to the bath and grab the cloth. Maybe you could scrub them off her skin if you tried hard enough.

"You've gotta start putting yourself first. You're burnt out and exhausted."

She nods, but that's all she allows you.

"Okay," she says quietly, "I'll do it for you. I don't like it when you're worrying about me,"

"I don't want you to do it for me. I want you to do it for you. Be a little selfish for once."

She doesn't nod at this, but you feel her move her hips against you again. This time there is no mistaking that it is purposeful.

"What are you doing, El?"

"I don't know."

God, you love saying her name. You love the way it makes her pupils larger, so dark the green in her irises is barely visible. You crave the way it brings a pink flush to her cheeks. How you can send Ellie, so strong and stoic, into a rambling mess.

She's looking at your lips, and her tongue darts out to lick over her own.

"I think you do know," you say, leaning closer to her. "You just don't want to say it."

You're kissing her before she can respond, hand slipping into her hair to tug gently. She groans into your mouth, and you slip your tongue over hers. Ellie's moving her hips again, grinding down on your thigh.

She has the awkward, fumbling movements of someone that's never done this before. She knows how to guide your hips and help you find the best angle for your pleasure, but this was all new territory for her. You move your hands back to her hips to aid her movements.

Leaning back, you pull away from the kiss and she falls forward, chasing you. Her hot breath caresses your lips, and you lean your forehead against hers. She smells like the forest still. There's no amount of soap that can get the scent off her.

"That's kinda fucked, El. Getting turned on by me stitching you up," you mumble against her lips.

Her movements stop and she's immediately pulling away and trying to explain herself, her hands thrown up as if surrendering. You let out a chuckle and push your index finger against her lips to stop her.

"I'm just teasing you. I know what you want."

You help her guide the oversized shirt over her head, and your eyes greedily scan the exposed flesh. She's watching you, trying to figure out what your next move will be. You can see the cogs and wheels turning in her mind.

Her instinct is to cross her arms over her chest, but one pointed look from you stops her in her tracks. You start at her neck, leaving wet, sloppy kisses down her chest until you reach her chest.

"I want you to tell me what you want," you say between kisses.

"But you said-" she cuts herself off with a sigh as you pull her nipple into your mouth, tongue gliding over the sensitive flesh.

"I know what I said, but I want you to tell me. Prove to me that you want it like this or I'll stop."

"Babe" she groans.

"Say it," you demand, using your hands to help her grind her cunt against you again.

"I want you to take care of me."

"I gathered that."

"C'mon, Y/N. You know what I fucking want. Saw it in your eyes since this morning."

You slow your movements, wanting to see how far you can take her. She groans in protest and grips your shoulders for leverage as she grinds down harder against you.

"I want you to make me feel good," she tries.

Continuing your slowed movements, you switch to the other side, using your other hand to knead the sensitive, smooth skin. She can do better than that.

"I-I want you to make me cum."

"How? I do that all the time," you say, barely resisting the urge to chuckle at her frustration.

"However you want to. Whatever way you want me. I don't care. I just need you. Need it like this today."

She's found her own rhythm against your thigh, not needing you to guide her movements anymore.

"There you go, baby. Take what you need from me. Just like that."

You lead kisses back up her neck and behind her ear where you know she's sensitive. She's breathless against you, groaning and sighing quietly as she uses you.

"Need-need help, Y/N," she says, her movements becoming more frantic.

Your cunt throbs at her words because this is exactly what you need. You want her to want this as much as you do.

She's chasing for more but can't seem to get to it. Pulling away from her neck, you tuck her auburn hair behind her ears and take a second to admire her. Her cheeks are flushed and her brow is wet with sweat.

The wounded look in her eyes forces you to take pity on her. Your firm hands grasp her shaky ones and guide her off your lap to stand up. Reaching forward, you pull the elastic of her panties so it flicks back against her.

"Take these off."

She's so eager that she almost trips as she shucks them down her legs, forgetting about her injuries. She's completely bare in front of you, glistening cunt on display. You take a moment to watch her and the way she moves back and forth from foot to foot under your gaze.

There's a large wet spot on her briefs, and you follow Ellie's eyes down to your jeans. There's a matching spot on your pants from her grinding against you. You're so aroused you think even the slightest touch between your legs would have you cumming.

"You made a mess, El."

Before she can respond, you're dragging her back over your thigh. She lets out a breathy moan at the feeling of the damp denim dragging against her clit.

"I want you to cum like this," you say.

"I-I don't think I can."

"Yes, you can. And you will."

She opens her mouth to complain, but you quiet her rambling with a kiss.

"Didn't you say I could have you any way I want you?"

"Yes, but-"

"You can have my mouth after you finish like this," you whisper against her lips.

That shuts her up, and she's grinding against you again, much more frantic than before. From her labored breaths, you can tell she's close. She's been worked up since this morning, and you want nothing more than for her to let go against you. You don't want any thought or worry in that pretty head of hers except how she's going to cum next.

She's moving fast enough that her knee is bumping deliciously between your legs. The seam of your jeans is grinding against your clit just right. You wanted to take them off and feel her bare skin against yours, but that would mean pulling away from Ellie again. She might lose her courage in the time it takes you to get them off.

The dampness of her cunt is seeping through your jeans and onto your leg, and fuck. You wonder if this is how Ellie feels when she has you under her and at her mercy.

"F-fuck, please," she groans.

"I've got you, baby. Give it to me."

You reach up to smooth the wrinkle between her brows with the pad of your thumb. "Relax, just want you to feel good. That's all I want you worrying about right now."

Scooting forward, you plant your foot firmly against the ground. You look up to watch her reaction as you start to bounce your leg, increasing the pressure and friction against her clit.

She pulls her face forward into your neck and lets out a strangled moan, louder than you've ever heard her before. You can feel her lips moving against your skin, but you can't make out what she's saying. She's talking so fast and so low that you can only understand the tone of desperation in her voice.

"Please, please, please please-"

"C'mon, El. You're almost there. I can feel you clenching against me."

You pull her by her shoulders away from your neck so you can watch her face as she finishes. When she tries to hide against you again, you pull her back by her hips.

"Uh, uh. Wanna see your face when you cum."

You push against her hips, creating even more pressure. She clenches her eyes and you feel every muscle in her body tighten like a rubber band ready to snap.

She's panting, hands flailing around because she doesn't know what to do with them. One flies to her chest, her long fingers creating indents against her skin. The other grips your shoulder. You can tell she's holding back, letting all that she's carrying get into her head.

"Let go, Ellie. I've got you. Gonna feel so good."

A high-pitched sound leaves her mouth as she takes in a shallow breath, and you can see it as the tension snaps within her. She's grinding against you so fast the couch is shaking and you're having trouble keeping up.

You release one of her hands and grab a fistful of her hair, tugging hard as she rides out her high.

"Doing so good for me, El. Look so fucking beautiful like this."

"Yes, yes, fuck. W-wanna be good for you."

Her words surprise you. Pulling you out of your head for a moment. She usually doesn't talk much when she finishes, but in her high, she revealed something you'd always suspected.

When her high dissipates, she crawls off of your lap to lean against your side, the stimulation of your leg too much on her clit.

She's breathing heavily, eyes closed and cheek pressed against your shoulder. Her naked form against yours reminds you of your fully-clothed state. The trust that she has in you sends another pang of arousal through you.

"So fucking good," she mumbles into your side.

While she's distracted, you gently pry her off of you and sink to your knees, face level with her still-dripping cunt. She wines, hands flinging out blindly to pull you back to her.

"Not finished with you yet," you say, grabbing her thighs to drag her so she's at the very edge of the couch.

She's looking at you through half-lidded eyes, lips wet from your kisses and her constant biting. You grab her hands, shoving them between her legs and forcing her fingers to spread herself for you.

She's too fucked out to even be embarrassed as she lets you maneuver her body.

"You see, El. You were complaining but look how fucking wet you are." You drag your index finger through her slick, circling her clit with the pad of your finger.

She throws her head back, and you can tell she's suppressing a groan. You grab her chin and force her head down. Her eyes look at her sopping wet pussy and then at you, letting out a sigh when she sees the look on her face.

"I told you to look, baby."

Ellie does groan at that. She watches as your fingers move to her entrance, circling it with your middle finger. Her hands drop to her sides, but you pull them back.

"No, stay like this."

You can feel her involuntarily clenching, trying to pull your fingers when she needs you. She's so swollen from getting off on your thigh earlier, and you lean in closer as you slip your middle finger into her entrance.

She's warm around you, clenching so tight it's hard to move your finger. You lower your lips to her swollen clit, sucking gently to get her to relax.

"F-fuuuuck, Y/N. So sensitive. Don't know if I can-"

You pull back from her clit with a wet smack, gazing up at her from your eyelashes.

"I made you a promise, El, and I intend to keep it. You just lay there and look pretty. Let me take care of you."

Her fingers are still spreading herself for you, pulsing cunt on display. You take pity on her when her hands start to shake, and you guide her hands to tangle in your hair instead.

She relaxes enough for you to move your finger comfortably, and you quickly add a second. She groans at the intrusion, head flying back on the couch and her hands tightening in your hair. You keep a steady pace, not too fast or too slow.

You give her a second to adjust before returning your mouth to her cunt. She tastes so sweet you can't help but groan into her, the vibrations going straight to her clit.

Licking down to her entrance where your fingers are buried inside her, you move to her clit, flicking your tongue at the end.

"Just like that. Yes."

Her voice is whiny and so adorable you almost want to stop to drink her in again. Instead, you look up at her as you wrap your lips around her clit and move your head from side to side. The added friction sends her eyes flying shut. Her face is so red you think it would be warm to the touch. Her half-dry hair is a mess, sticking up at odd angles and in a bunch of knots at the base of her neck.

Your neglected clit is throbbing beneath your clothes, and you use the moment to slip a hand into your jeans. The angle is too awkward to slip a finger inside yourself, so you resort to rubbing tight circles around your clit. You've never been this close to finishing with such little stimulation before. Each circle of your fingers sends an almost fatal pang of arousal from your core to your lower stomach.

"I know it's a lot. Doing so good for me," you murmur against her clit.

That's what she wants to hear. What she needs to hear from you. Ellie is good. So good to you and you know she can be good for you, too.

When you crook your fingers at the spongey spot inside her, she loses it, grinding against your face and practically babbling praise.

"So good to me, babe. Feels so fucking good."

"Mhhmm. There you go, El. Let me have it."

Your face falters slightly as you move your hand in your pants faster, so close to your orgasm you can taste it. Whether she notices, you're touching yourself or not, she doesn't let on.

"F-fuck. So close, babe. Please don't stop. Please," she actually whines.

She tugs on your hair harder, forcing your face closer to your cunt as her thighs come up to rest against your ears. You let her clench around you instead of pushing her back, liking the feeling of her completely surrounding you. You would let her suffocate you like this.

That's what does it for you. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and you rapidly rub your clit as you ride out your high. You groan against her clit, and you can feel her thighs tighten around your head from the added stimulation. Doing your best to keep up the pace of your mouth and your other hand inside her, you can feel her clench around your fingers again. The image of Ellie above you, all fucked out and blissful makes it so much more intense.

When the pleasure verges on overstimulation, you remove your wet hand from your pants to grab her thigh, nails digging into her skin. You want to leave marks. You want her to bruise for you.

You look up to see her eyes full of unshed tears, her legs shaking in pleasure. Focusing your fingers on the spot again, you suck on her clit hard, wanting to push her over the edge.

"Yes, yes, yes. Goddamn," she moans as she lets go.

You continue pumping your fingers in and out of her to help her ride out her high, accepting her release against your tongue. Her thighs part from you, and she becomes completely boneless.

You're pulled from your thoughts when Ellie's hands come up to your head to push you away.

"N-no more. Fuck. Too much, babe."

You allow her to push you away but not before leaving kisses up her thighs, tracing the contours of her body as you make your way up to her lips.

This time it's Ellie that pulls you into her lap. She winces as your knee accidentally bumps her freshly-stiched wound. You quickly move your hand to caress the torn skin.

"Shit, sorry. You okay?"

She answers with a kiss. You know that she can taste herself on your tongue. Ellie wraps her arms around you, pulling your face into the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," she whispers into your hair.

You pull your face out of her neck, and this close to her, you can see the tear tracks on her face. Your fingers move to wipe the marks off her face, but she grabs your hands in hers.

"I'm sorry if I overreacted a bit."

Ellie shakes her head at that, and before you can react, she's pushing you back onto the couch, climbing on top of you. Her lips are hot and heavy against yours. The dominant energy that you're used to feeling is exuding off of her. You realize she's trying to make up for how she just acted.

"What are you doing, El?"

"You made me see fuckin' angels. I want to make you feel good now."

You want to give in, but one look at her dark circles and bruised flesh takes you back to how tired she is. After getting back early this morning, she probably hasn't slept in at least 24 hours.

"No," you say as you push your hands away. "You need to get some rest."

"But you-"

"No, Ellie."

She pouts and sits up, straddling your still denim-clad waist.

"You can return the favor in the morning, okay?" you compromise.

She nods, and as if on cue lets out a huge yawn. She reaches the floor, flailing her tattooed hand around until she finds the oversized shirt from earlier. You can see the goosebumps on her skin again as she pulls the shirt over her head.

She stands up from the couch, legs still a little unstable from exhaustion, pain, and the two orgasms you just gave her. You take her outstretched hand and let her pull you toward her bed, shedding your t-shirt and jeans as you go.

She falls asleep with her head tucked on your chest, listening to the calming beat of your heart as she relaxes. The heat of her body provides a welcome comfort from the cold and you tighten your hold around her broken form, as if your grasp could keep her together.

But you know that you can't hold her like this forever. Maybe you couldn't stop her sadness and anger from seeping through the cracks, but you were sure as hell going to try.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[notafunkiller]

unveiled

Summary: Unable to keep the charade up, you finally confront Bucky, telling him the whole truth.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 39), teasing, dirty talk, or@l sex, fingering, protected séx, pet names, daddy kínk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 4.5K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: This story will have 4 parts, this is the 3rd part.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

Avoiding Bucky for two weeks was hard, but fortunately, he didn’t try to push you at all, which made it bearable.

You miss him, though. You always enjoyed his company, and it feels like you are slowly losing a friend. But what’s your alternative?

As much as you try to be polite, William’s friends completely ignore you when you ask them how they are. So you give up quickly, spending time on your phone as you try to ignore them. You can’t go to your room because that would not fit the fake image, so you’re stuck.

You know William is not a bad guy, and he tried to get closer to you a couple of times, but he’s not the type of person you’d see yourself with. Not even as real friends. You’re just too different, and it’s not like either of you wanted to be in this situation.

Bucky has been busy all evening. From what you heard, he’s been working on an important project this week, even at home. But you are happy to see him coming downstairs, probably headed to the kitchen. At least, he’s alive.

“Hi.”

Everyone acknowledges him immediately, and he gives you a warm smile before going to the kitchen, as you thought.

A few minutes later, when he returns, he’s carrying a plate with two sandwiches and a drink in his left hand. William immediately reaches for the glass, and Bucky gives him a pointed look.

“That’s not for you.”

“Come on, you always let me try.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his tone. He acts like a kid a lot of times.

“This is for your girlfriend, punk. The one you’ve been ignoring.” You look at him surprised as he hands you the drink. How did he know?

Everyone turns to look at you, but you ignore them.

“Thank you.”

Cherries again... You blush.

“You’re welcome, hopefully you’ll drink it this time.”

For some reason, this is enough to make this whole avoiding him plan of yours go down the drain  and before you know what you’re doing, you’re in your room calling your mom and demanding her to stop this nonsense and let you come home. Because they can do it in another way. You can’t pretend to be a couple for years, can you? What about your life? What about what you want? You’ve already done so much for them, and you are sick and tired of lying.

Same goes for William. He must want the same thing as you do.

But she brushes you off, trying to make you see from their point of view. Because this is what your father wanted. And you never felt sicker.

“He wouldn’t give you the opportunity to run anything otherwise, baby. You have to do this... I am sorry.”

“No, you’re not! You’re fucking not! Otherwise, you would have left him. He controls you and me. He’s been doing it your whole marriage, and I am sick of it. I won’t let him treat me like this anymore.”

There is dead silence on the other side of the phone for a couple of seconds, and you have to forcefully bite your lip to keep the sobs down. You can almost taste the blood.

“Please, honey, there’s nothing I can do.”

You cannot take any more of her tone, so gou simply hang up and put your phone on silent just in case.

There’s nowhere you can go. Nothing you can do to escape this if you want an opportunity to do things your way. Your father uses you, and your mom doesn’t have your back.

It’s suffocating you, and it’s also terrifying how alone you can be despite not being theoretically alone.

He deserves better, too. He deserves to know.

That snaps something inside you, and before you can change your mind, you get out of your room, fixing your hair and wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

William’s friends are still downstairs, playing something based on their voices, but you ignore them. You go straight to Bucky’s door and knock desperately.

You still jump when he opens it, and you can spot the worry in his eyes right away.

He was taking a bath, you notice the water droplets running down his face and body. He probably threw his shorts and tank top on quickly, but you don’t care. He needs to know.

“What’s wrong?”

“I gotta tell you something. Right now.”

You get inside his room without waiting for an invitation, and only when you hear the door closing, you turn to look at him.

“They’re lying to you. Everyone is lying to you, including me. And I’m sorry.”

He comes closer, concerned. “What are you lying to me about, huh?”

“It’s not true. None of this is true.”

“What’s not true?” He presses again. You’re finally in his room, you’ve stopped avoiding him, yet you’re still panicking. And all he wants is to make sure you’re okay. “Take it easy. Try to speak slowly, you are running out of air.”

“About William and I… We’re not together for real. It’s all a scam.”

He's speechless for a couple of seconds, frozen on spot, before you watch him start to laugh hysterically.

“I am serious, Bucky. It’s for the merger of the companies.” You continue, thinking he doesn’t believe you. Because why would he? “Your dad wanted to make sure mine won’t back off so they used me. I swear, I can show you-”

“I believe you, I believe you.” He's surprisingly calm as he speaks, as if you didn’t relieve a huge secret. “That’s not why I laughed.”

“I am sorry. I didn’t know why they wanted to keep it away from you, but I-”

“Why did you agree to all of this? What’s in it for you besides the misery of living here?” He asks, so much closer all of a sudden.

“Nothing now.” You sigh, but you don’t care. Even if you have nothing, at least he knows. And sadly, he doesn’t seem surprised by his parents’ actions. “I was supposed to get my dad’s  support with a small business. I also wanted to run a charity organization... accepting this  was the condition so I can have what I want. It’s stupid, I know. I am twenty-”

“I sensed something was wrong with this whole relationship thing. No couple acts the way you two do, but I thought maybe I was overthinking.” His clothes are fully getting wet now, and you can’t help but stare at his chest. Shit...

“I know.”

“I should have figured out what’s going on.”

His tone seems light, as if you’re not talking about how you all made him believe in a lie for months. You fight the impulse to beg for his forgiveness. You feel like a horrible, horrible human being.

“I am so sorry, Bucky,” you cry. “I should have told you. I am not a good friend, and I am so sorry. But now you know, I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. I didn’t want to, you deserve so much better than all of this.”

“I know you wanted to.” His hand is on your shoulder all of a sudden, and you gasp at the contact. “On my birthday.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I wanted to tell you a lot of times actually. But I am a coward. William and your parents-”

“You’re not his,” he interrupts you once again, shaking his head as if he can’t believe it. “You’ve never been his.”

You know what he means by his, and you want to correct him and tell him you’re not an object to be someone’s. But you remembered how much you thought about the possibility of Bucky being yours in the past few weeks, so...

“No, I am not.”

“Good.” He grabs you by the back of your head. “I've wanted to kiss ever since I saw you, don’t you know that?”

You gasp. “James-”

“Tell me you want me. Tell me that, and I’m yours. I don’t care about them, I care about you.”

“But I lied to you.”

“You didn’t want to lie to me, though. Analyze the context you are in a little.” He looks drunk as he stares at you, wanting nothing more than to kiss you.

You shake your head. “I can’t do the fun thing with you, okay?”

“Fun thing?”

“I can’t be like Cherry. I can’t stay friends with you after I kiss you.” And you wouldn’t want to even if you could.

He leans in until his mouth reaches your ear. “Who said I wanted that, princess? I told you I am yours.”

“Are you playing a game?”

“Sure,” he says immediately. “I can play any game you want if that makes you want to be mine.”

“Fucking hell,” you moan, feeling so many things at once. He’s seriously giving zero shits about this whole thing, and he’s touching you. Just like you touched him on his birthday. It feels forbidden and wrong, but also perfect. You can have him now. You can kiss him. And you do, bringing his head down so your lips can meet.

You moan quite loudly, but you can’t hold back. Not when he grabs your ass and pulls you closer to him. You hiss when you feel him lifting you in the air so you can wrap our legs around his hips. He’s so hard. So, so hard! And wet all over. You can feel him properly.

He groans when you deepen the kiss, but you’re so into it you could barely hear him.

“Jesus, you taste so good, baby, so good.” He continues to kiss you until you feel like you can’t breathe. You start to move your hips without realizing, chasing the friction because it just feels so good, even with your pants on.

“James, please.”

“Please, what?” He grinds back a little to tease you and you almost cry. So much desire has been bottled inside you for months. “Come on, use your big girl words, baby.”

“I need you. I’m so wet… I need to come.” So much!

“And you want me to make you come?”

You groan. “Obviously!”

“Then ask me to.”

“Come on, James!” You grab his face desperately. “Come on, make me come. Please!”

He smiles widely, and this boyish smirk only makes him look cuter. You want to eat him whole.

“Of course, baby. So polite.”

He doesn’t waste time after your back hits the bed. He starts to undress you quickly, not caring about his sheets getting wet. You help him by lifting your arms and your hips from time to time, but he manages to get everything off in record time.

You can’t believe you’re doing this, to be honest. The reality hits you when he leans in to kiss you, his wet T-shirt making your nipples harden even more. You’re naked in his bed...

“Hey, you’re okay?” His voice is so soft that you can’t help but smile.

“Yes, I’m just... I can’t believe this is real. I haven’t prepared for it.”

“You’re so cute when you’re shy.” He kisses your lips once again. “And when you’re angry.” The trail of kisses is getting lower and lower with every word. “And when you tell me what to do.”

His mouth stops right on your left breast, his hand grabbing the other one.

You moan, losing yourself slowly to the overwhelming sensation, making it hard to focus or think.

“And when you do as I tell you to.” His tongue is everywhere: from your skin to, finally, your nipple, wetting it with his tongue before he properly sucking it.

You jump from the sudden pleasure and grab his hair.

“Feels so good.”

He switches to the other breast as soon as you speak again. “Fuck, I wanted to sleep on these for a long time. I’m depraved, aren’t I? Wanting to fuck my brother’s girl and suck on her tits before passing out on them from exhaustion.”

You moan imagining him sneaking into your room and doing that, and it makes you even hornier. “Fuck, James! I would have let you... would have asked you to make me come in the morning, too.”

You don’t care if you are depraved too. You are in this together. You wanted each other for so long, and now you’re finally getting it.

“Yeah?” He starts to lower his face more after he leaves a few kisses on the valley between your breasts. “What else?”

When you feel him close to your navel, you laugh.

“I’m ticklish, please.”

He melts. Of course he melts and spreads your legs as far as you can go.

“Gonna finally get my mouth on you. I need you to come all over my face...” Based on his tone, it’s like he can’t believe it finally happening.

“Yes, sir.” You tease. “Gonna get you drenched if you want.”

Something snaps inside him, you realize quickly, as he cups your face.

“I am your sir now, princess?”

“Always been,” you gasp. “You’re in your daddification era after all.”

“Shouldn’t that make me your daddy then?”

You freeze a little, unsure what to say because you’d lie if you said you didn’t think about him like that. He’s such a daddy that it hurts. And it’s like he sensed it.

“Fuck, you’re both, okay? You’re both. Please, James. Need your mouth or fingers... anything.”

“Or?” Bucky puffs. “You’re getting both, love.”

You hear laughter coming from downstairs, and you smirk. If only they knew who you actually are with...

Bucky places your legs on his shoulders and back, and you let yourself stay still, waiting for his first move.

His fingers open your lips first, making sure to hold you open before he leans in and gets his tongue at your entrance.

“Shit, Buck!”

He intentionally breathes out all over you. “That’s not how you call me, princess.”

“What do you want then?” You snap, desperately. You need to be eaten out, not teased. “Daddy? Sir? Old man? James? Tease?”

“That tone,” he says, amused by your suffering. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

“Well, make me come first!”

“Always.”

He doesn’t tease you much after this, getting his tongue inside you for a while as you pull his hair, and then he switches it with his index finger as he decides to lick your clit.

“Y-you can suck on it. I like it.”

He immediately takes your suggestion and, at the same time you feel him adding another finger inside you, he sucks on your clit as if he’s nursing.

You lose control of your hips, moving them like crazy while he fucks you like this.

His free hand travels to your breast, and you groan. “I’m so close, James. Sooo close. Fuck,” you moan again when he pinches your nipple. “Add another finger, please. Another-”

He does it before you can ask again, and it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for you to come all over his face, surprising yourself and, probably him. It feels like you’re drowning in pleasure, it’s insane. 

Even after you finish, he keeps licking just as fast, and you have to pull his hair harshly so he can stop.

“It’s enough, thank you, baby.”

He smiles, getting up to kiss you without hesitation. “I’m your baby now?”

“Of course you are. My big old baby.”

He laughs. “So old.”

“Yeah, my old man, who needs to take off his clothes.”

Bucky nods, standing up.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Ihm.” You crawl to the edge of the bed so you can help him take off his shorts quicker. It’s hard not to stare at his cock. He’s quite thick, and the head is covered in precum.

“What’s that face?” He laughs, fishing. You know he fishes too, but what can you say?

“You’re a big man.”

He laughs even harder. “Do you mean all of me or a certain part?”

“Fuck you!” You take his hand, forcing him to lean toward you. You won’t stroke his ego even more.

“Let me grab a condom first.”

You nod, eagerly waiting for him to get inside you as you watch him his open his nightstand. You brush off the instinct to cover yourself and spread your legs.

“How many times did you think about it?”

“About you in my bed? Too many times. I was gonna screw it over, you know?” He snorts. “The morning after my birthday. I wanted to come and confess I like and want you to myself, but you stayed away from me.”

You watch him open the package and roll the condom on as you answer. “I think your sister sensed it.”

Bucky scrunches his nose. “Not the greatest subject while I am about to fuck you, but yeah, she knew. She saw right through me, and as we left she told me to go for it and do something scandalous for once.”

“Really?” You’re shocked. Why would she encourage him to do that while you were still with her other brother? “She told me not to play with both of your hearts before we left.”

Bucky shakes his head while getting on his knees between your legs. “You can play with my heart all you want, doll. It’s all yours”

“I need something else of yours right now. Your cock, sir.” You tease him, knowing the effect your words will have on him. You enjoy this so much… having this power over him. “How about that?”

“Ihm.” Bucky kisses your lips briefly. “When you tell me to stop, I’ll stop, okay?”

You nod eagerly, wanting to push him. “What if I don’t want you to stop, what should I tell you then?”

“Just beg for my cock. You seem to like that.”

“You would love that, wouldn’t you? If you want me to beg, at least give me a reason to.”

And he gives you a reason to as he pushes inside you little by little. It’s a strange feeling... getting filled like this with no lube, but it doesn’t hurt, it’s just a bit uncomfortable at first.

“You okay?”

“Ihm, just full.” You smile.

“You’re so tight, and wet, and perfect, you know? I feel like... shit, it feels surreal.”

You look down, and you almost moan from the sight. His cock is more than halfway inside you.

“You feel amazing too.”

He kisses you as he starts to thrust, and you don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Maybe it’s also the build up and the time that has passed since you last had sex, but you can’t think straight. With every push, it gets harder and harder to focus or to simply keep your eyes open.

“Come on, princess, talk to me!”

He leaves kisses all over your collarbone and wherever he manages between his thrusts as he waits for you to speak. But what can you say? How can you speak?

“Y-you feel so good inside me, daddy. So good.” It’s like your mind is blank.

“Jesus!” His eyes meet yours. “Say that again, come on, baby.”

“What? That you feel good or...?”

“You know what, don’t be bratty now. I know you’re close.”

“I want it a little harder, daddy.” You smirk when you see him trembling a little, and before you can say anything else, he’s starting to thrust again, but harder just like you want.

“You’re mine, aren’t you? Worrying about me... taking me so well,” he moans, and you quickly grab the sheets when you feel one of his hands getting to your clit without warning. “Gonna come for me? Gonna come while everyone is downstairs wondering what takes you so long? Gonna come for your daddy?”

You do, of course you do, silently, yet strongly. It feels like heaven, and you don’t want it to ever stop. You can taste the pleasure at this point.

“Look at you,” he moans, still thrusting. “So beautiful as you come for me. Tell me you want me to come for you, too. Tell me-”

You interrupt him immediately. “Please, James, let it go, want you to feel good.” You kiss his neck over and over again. “Want to feel your come inside me.”

You both know that’s impossible, but it still gets him over the edge, and he comes, whispering your name like a prayer.

“Was it good?” You ask amused when his head falls dramatically on top of your breasts, his beard tickling you a little.

“I’m a changed man.”

He manages to make you laugh. “Liar!”

“Don’t call an old man liar, sweetheart.”

“What happened to love or baby?” You lazily run a hand through his hair as you wait for his answer.

“You’re my love and my baby, too..”

“How are you single again?”

“I’m not. You took me.” He grins devilishly before leaving a kiss on the valley between your breasts. Again and again.

“Ah, yes, I do.” You sigh, suddenly back to earth once the after-orgasm effect fades away. “We need to talk about it.”

“I know, and we will in the morning. Tonight, your job is to relax in the bath I’ll prepare for you while I go downstairs and make the punk end the party. Then we’ll sleep, okay?”

“Ihm,” you whisper absently. suddenly really tired as he slides out of you with a kiss.

“Gonna throw this away and come back, okay? Try not to sleep.” You don’t have to look at him to know he’s talking about the condom.

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky’s laugh warms your heart.

*

You wake up all sweaty, with Bucky’s arms around your waist and his beard on your neck giving you extra warmth. If you attempted to move him, he’s too heavy; therefore, you’d have to wake him up.

You sigh. “Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you move? I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Say the magic word,” he whispers with the raspiest voice ever.

“Now. Or is it daddy?”

He laughs. “Gimmie a kiss then.”

“Let me brush my teeth first.”

“Nonsense!” He leans in to kiss your without  warning, tilting your head with his right hand.

You don’t deepen the kiss, though, using this as an opportunity to sneak out of the bed.

“Hey, come here!  I don’t care about your-”

“I stink. You might not care, but I do. Gonna be right back, okay?”

You’re not fast enough, though, since you hit him with the bathroom door when you open it. “Bucky!” You jump, touching your chest.

“Took too long.”

“Such a baby.” You snort, wrapping your arms around his neck, and get on your tip toes so you can properly kiss him this time.

“Now this is a good morning.”

You nod. “Yep. Good morning.”

“Good morning, little liar.”

You frown instantly, your heart starting to race. Shit!

“I am really sorry, Bucky. I really didn’t mean to...” You try to explain, but you sound like a broken record.

“I don’t mean that, love. I am talking about what your principles.”

You feel like your whole body is on fire. This can’t be real...

“Was all a game?” You slam your hands onto his chest. “Is this a game for you?”

“What? I mean your not sleeping or having sex policy, woman. Calm down! What games? I came after you cause you were taking too long, and you think this can be a game?”

“I don’t know... I just panicked.” You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. “It sounded like you were gonna say it was all a game because I lied to you.”

Bucky shakes his head before wrapping his arms around you waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“I would never do that. I am not a kid and I know what I want. I know why you accepted this, and you didn’t lie to me, you were hiding the truth from a stranger. They are the ones who should have said something.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby. I just wanted to make sure you know that.”

You kiss his upper arm in return, and he smiles.

“So tell me... what happened to not sleeping in the same room? Not having sex...”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“It’s my job as your man to do that.”

You let go of him and smile. “My man… I’m not intending to return you.”

“Return me?” He giggles, suddenly amused. “Now that we’re here, I have a question.”

“What?”

“How jealous you were of Cherry on a scale from 1 to 10?”

You gasp. “Are you going to ask everything this morning or what?”

“Do you want me to do it at lunch?” He teases you. “You don’t have to be jealous. We aren’t even close friends anymore, so...”

“I don’t care about Cherry! She’s nice...”

He brings your hands to his lips and slowly leaves a kiss on each finger.

“Then why was my mocktail left there? It was crying for you to drink it.”

You snap, taking him aback as you grab him by the chin. “You’re mine, do you understand? No Cherry, no Berry, no Watermelon!”

He laughs as much as he can since you’re holding his chin, but then something glows in his eyes. “What about Strawberry?”

“No. One. No fruit, no vegetable, no one.”

“Done,” he answers immediately. “But same goes for you. No William, Will, Bill and so on.”

“He’s not my type, obviously.” You touch his bottom lip with your index finger. “I like them old, savage, and huge like trees.”

Bucky immediately bites the tip of your finger before licking it. “We need to tell everyone. How do we do it?”

You freeze, dropping your hand.

What will you do? If this blows up, and you know it will, where will you go? Where will you work? Your mom would try to fight for you, but you know your dad would immediately cut you off and make sure you’ll regret it. He’d want you to beg for forgiveness, so he will make sure no one hires you.

Bucky must have sensed your panic and immediately grabs your face.

“Hey, I can see you making a hundred of scenarios in your head, talk to me.”

“In the bathroom?” You ask, trying to lighten up the mood for some reason.

“Don’t you want them to know?” He asks confused.

“Of course I do, don’t get me wrong. It’s just...”

“Complicated?” He completes the sentence for you.

“A little.”

“We have time, I’m all ears.”

Tags:

@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624  @cjand10  @mayusenpai666  @abitofblues @doveromanoff @buckyb-stan

[adkawariatka]

So it’s a follow up of my previous post. it’s Tim perspective on how Damian changed and his reactions to them.

Tim wos tired but that’s nothing new. He should have slept at least two hours at night, but what’s done is done. He sits at the kitchen table sipping his third espresso and watching his siblings. When Bruce enters he looks at those present and seems to count. Ha that might be needed Tim thinks. After third attempt of his murder by demon brat that’s expected. Speaking of demons… Tim hasn’t seen Damian outside patrol for quite long. Not that he is complaining not having constant threat to your life around is nice but demon still should be at manor. Maybe Tim missed something when he wos looking into his case for last two weeks…

-Does someone saw Damian in manor lately?

When no one answers the question Tim sits straighter. That’s bad news really bad news.

-he wos at patrol tonight but outside from that no.

Dick answers. Well it’s Sunday at 10:00 in the morning. It’s not impossible for Damian to go out but where? It’s not as he has any friends. Tim snorts to his thoughts. He imagined demon brat talking to other kids „incompetent idiots that’s not how you hold katana!!!”. So no he doubts that possibility. He can see Bruce’s jaw tighten in worry. Ok so they need to find the brat. Before they can get serious about any action they hear front doors open and Alfred greetings

-Good morning Master Damian

And the demon enters kitchen as if nothing wos wrong. As if going out of manor as 10 year old alone wos acceptable. He greets father then Dick and to his suprise him also. And tries to go to the living room but Bruce stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

- where were you?

Tim winces it sounds more as a growl than a perfectly civilized question. Bruce parenting skills are shit as always. He knows that it’s out of worry but still….

-I wos on a walk

Damian is perfectly calm. That’s good. Tim is too tired for furious demon right now.

- who give you permission to go out without supervision?

And Damian watches him carefully. Tim can see him taking slow deep breaths. Huh, weird.

-you told me to make friends so I am working on it.

Tim almost spits his coffee. Working on making friends!? He hopes that any children that Damian chased with his katana are unharmed.

- you shouldn’t go out without anyone knowing where you are going. You need permission

-I am not a kid I can take care of myself!

There is the demon that Tim knows.

-it’s not a matter of being a kid or not. I need to know where you are as your guardian I am responsible for your safety

-tyt it’s pretty clear that I can protect myself

-but in this family you don’t need to. We have different rules.

And Tim saw something that he never saw before. Damian hestitated. Took a deep breath and asked like a civilized human being without anger or insults

- then if I inform you where I am going and when I will be back I can go?

Tim can’t believe it. Demon brat is… talking. With words like normal human being. Tim checks his coffee. He really needs to sleep more. Halucinations are bad sign.

-

But sleeping didn’t change the fact that Damian acted weird. After school and patrols he disappeared for „walks”. Tim knew something wos going on. But Bruce let it go. Damian started to inform him where he went and for how long and it actually checked. Dick even checked his location and everything lined up. But that wosnt the end of strange behaviors from Damian. The demon brat often glanced at Tim when they were in the same room. Not stared but glanced trying to be subtle. Well like for assassin training he wosnt so stealthy as he probably thought. Tim expected another attack soon. He started to carry battarangs with him around the house. when he started doing that and Damian caught on he did even weirder shit.

Imagine one evening when they were all in the living room and Damian enters. Of course with his katana that he keeps with himself at all times in the manor becouse Bruce forbidden him outside of hause and procedes to lock eyes with Tim and leaves his weapon near the door. Tim is staring at Damian as if he grew second head and he isn’t the only one.

From that time whenever Damian is in the same room as Tim he leaves his katana close to the door. Tim smells a trap. Whatever the brat is doing it can’t be good. Even if that gesture is kind of reassuring…. Tim is no fool. He will not be swayed by nice words or acknowledgment of his work or even leaving weapons outside of range of Damian’s hand.

One day after patrol, when Tim started to get ready for going to his room. To work of course, becouse the sharp eyes of Alfred didn’t leave him for a moment and distracted him from his case. He realised he is not alone. Damian followed him like shadow. Tim didn’t speed up his walking to not let the demon realize that he knew about his presence. Slowly he closed fingers around his batarang to make sure he will par first blow of katana. They were before Tim’s room when Damian started to speak

- Drake can we talk?

That sounded off. Damian didn’t talk he stabbed. More often Tim than anything else. But he sounded hestitant…. Well he has a weapon and when they enter his room they will be on his ground. He will know environment and hidden weapons there. He will have huge adventage when the fight will barek out.

-Sure why not

Tim let’s them in. He allows Damian to enter first. That way he has his back to Tim it’s safer that way. When the door closes Damian turns around Tim grips batarang in his pocked and waits for the start…. And nothing. Damian stands in the middle of his room locks his eyes with Tim’s and glances at his hand in his pocked. In the well lighted room it’s no mistakening that shape for anything different than a weapon. And then his guest procedes to holds his hands up palms to Tim in universal sign of no violence. Tim is dumbfounded. Damian clears his throat and starts:

- Drake I have been doing some reaserch… and it turned out I wos…. Misinformed. My past actions towards you were caused by my lack of knowledge and I shouldn’t have attacked you. I will not repeat that mistake again. I mean no harm to you…. Anymore

- What? Misinformed?! You stabbed me! Multiple times!

- I am aware Drake And I…

- no if you think that I will buy this story then You are delusional and

- I am sorry Timothy!

Damian cut him off. And Tim shut his mouth and looked at Damian. Really looked. He wos fidgeting and he actually flinched when he raised his voice. He stared at the floor and squized his hand so hard that it must have hurt. Tim stared in shock.

- Holy shit you are serious

Damian raised his gaze at Tim. And nodded. For once he looked as 10 year old boy. God Tim wos a dumbass. Damian WOS 10 years old. And lately he tried to be non-threatening towards Tim. Every weird action linked into a pretty clear picture. it looks like Damian finally realized his actions were wrong and came to Tim…. And Tim shouted at him.

- I ok let’s make things clear you realized you were wrong after what 8 months of leaving under one roof together? And…

Damian started to shrink in on himself and Tim stopped himself shit he wos doing it wrong. He crouched to be at Damian’s eye level and started again.

- No sorry first things first thank you for telling me. I appreciate the gesture. And lack of weapons for last month… It’s good to know you won’t try to kill me anymore. I don’t think I can just forget of what you did but… we can try to work it out. What do you say?

-that sounds reasonable Timothy.

Wow its so weird to agree with the brat… no Damian. Wait did he call him by his name!? While Tim wos trying to organize his thoughts Damian murmured something that caught his attention, that probably wosnt for Tim to hear.

-he wos right…

- It wos draining patrol I won’t take more of your time Drake. Good night

-who wos right?

Tim wosnt going to let that go. Someone talked Damian into doing this and he needs to know who. Dick wos unsuccessful in teaching Damian in basic human interactions. So must be someone outside. Bruce is too much emotionally conspirated, maybe Alfred. If yes then there is no reason to worry. But someone from outside could have hidden goals. It wos dangerous. Damian seemed suprised by his question but did not hestitate.

- My friend

And wosnt that a mistery. Tim needed to check that „friend” no matter what. He could be using Damian or plotting to hurt Wayne’s. But he wosnt going to let his suspicion break just created string of trust with his younger brother. He will check that stranger on his own in a way that Damian won’t realize. For know that wos enough. Damian wos opening the doors to go to his room when Tim added

- what happend to Timothy?

Damian slammed the door in his face. And Tim burst out laughing. He wos not going to let that go.