#and then the pit also had a hand in it (probably??)

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Batman Annual #25

Before Talia took him in, before he was dunked in the pit to have his memories restored, even when operating purely on survival instinct, he always split a meal with the other homeless people. It may not have been essential to his survival, but caring about and helping other people when he couldn’t even help himself was just always such an intrinsic part of Jason’s core.

[quietwingsinthesky]

i have been thinking about that ‘give your oc a kink’ post for days. because i think even would have a thing for hypnosis. yes, yes, for character reasons of overwhelming feelings of impending failure that make the idea of having the ability to choose anything at all be taken out of their hands look extremely appealing. but also because it would be so fucking funny in the worse timeline. imagine you get stuck in time hell with a guy whose whole thing is hypnotizing people, and u hate him. u hate him so. so much.

[shmpxx]

BROKEN PROMISE — y.i

⛤ yuuji itadori x fem! reader

Yuuji definitely loves cumming inside but you ban him from doing so, how could you do that to poor Yuuji?

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. cervix-fucking. squirting. non-con cumming inside. overstimulation. pussydrunk. tummy bulge. mentions of pregnancy. +18!

wc: 1k

Sex with Yuuji is amazing but also annoying. Yuuji never listens to you, not when his cock is so buried deep into you, threatening to cum and coat your gushy walls even when you tell him not to, he cums too much that you’ll already end up feeling full in one go. The first time he slid in, he couldn’t stop. How can he? Your cunt was squeezing him tight, milking him dry each time he can’t pull out in time. He’s being deeply swallowed by your warmth and the wind is being knocked out of his lungs. Your pussy is basically begging to be filled with his cum. You regret furthering make out sessions because now there’s no going back. He doesn’t like to wear condoms either, not when he had went raw for the first time, now he is obsessed with your used up hole.

You’ll scold him that if he did it again he wouldn’t be getting any for a while. This time surprisingly he did listen, he promised though he was sad he will never get to sink his cock into you and fill you up in all the right places, your mushy walls being glazed and the pretty mess you make on him as well. How could you punish him like that? It wasn’t his fault he can’t help it, the feeling was pretty much addicting but your not trying to get pregnant, though he probably wouldn’t mind if he just gets to. So every time his cock slightly twitched to cum, he would pull out cumming on your stomach or your ass. It’s still feels good but stuffing you was so much better.

Yuuji now pounding into you, this time you both ran through your first orgasm. Yuuji was hungry, hungry to keep beating your cervix with his cock. His pace was fast and rough, sweat beads forming on your bodies. His head lowering cursing and moaning “fuck-fuck..ah! Can’t stop-…shit!” he wasn’t even getting tired, his hips slamming into you and your hands tug onto the sheets beneath you, eyes tight shut as your taking his merciful thrusts, your moaning like crazy your getting dizzy. Your pretty pussy taking his big dick at such speed.

You can feel his cock throb, that’s when you know he’s about to cum. “Yuuji! You know to..ah-pull out” what was that? Sounded like nothing to him. He’s still going, his eyes closed as he tilts his head back just thinking about how good you feel and your walls tightening around his girth, he was practically drooling. “feel so- fucking good! Can’t stop! I have to-“ You shake your head before he begins to go faster. Half of your mind was being focused on Yuuji fucking you hard into your spot and the other half was the hope that you needed him to pull out in time before he cums, you were near your end and he was too yet he’s so lost in your weeping cunt, he might have to just break his promise not even thinking twice about the consequences because he was so entranced by your pussy.

“Yuuji don’t! Don’t cum inside! Ah! Pull out already” you yell out a moan, a sharp ache was building up in the pit on your stomach. He shakes his head “m’ sorry baby! Fuck-“ Yuuji was not cooperating nor he was sorry. You slightly pull your hips back but Yuuji grabs them slamming you back down, his leaking tip pounded at your cervix and you let a intense moan. “Please baby..just let me-“ he whines, his voice cracking a bit.

“Yuuji!” you gasp, you felt like you were about to explode. Yuuji hurries, feeling himself about climax and made sure he was about to do it right inside you just like he always wanted to. “‘m cumming! ‘m cumming” how fucking amazing that felt when he pumps full of hot spurts of cum deep in your womb, he’s biting the inside of his cheek. you cry feeling him fill you up so fast already and you gushed around him of your liquids right on his cock cumming hard, the feeling of your tummy became full of him “Ah! Yuuji no! I-your cumming inside me“ you whimpered with your hand on your lower abdomen feeling the bulge of his big dick. you were trembling, your heart is racing, waiting for your high to calm down but it’s taking a while to do so.

“Don’t wanna stop now” he exhales a large gasp of air, He knew he was gonna overstimulate himself, he had never before in a while though you felt so good and he had to keep going, he got to cum inside you, surely he could do it again. “Yuuji yer such a idiot” you whine and gave him a fist at his chest as his dick growing hard again and he’s still thrusting inside not caring about the filthy mess he made. “‘m sorry baby..i really am..-shit! Your squeezing me though” if you keep doing that then he might just cum harder and so much more than before.

Yuuji uses his hands to push your legs almost to your ears so he can fuck into deeper, already planning to cum inside you again when he’s to his end. He’s panting like a dog, you’re moaning and the sounds fills your ears of Yuuji’s cock plunging repeatedly in your stuffed pussy. You might just kill him after this yet you’re overwhelmed with Yuuji tip prodding at your cervix with ease. “Yuuji i hate you s’ much..hah! Ah! s’ much!” Yuuji lets out a sigh along with a small laugh “I’ll make it up to you I promise just- fuck! Let me..ah!” Yuuji’s hips are snapping but they’re also a bit sloppy.

“oh fuck oh fuck!” His cock pulses, your moans pitches when your stomach tightens. Yuuji leans down gritting his teeth hard and his fingers dig through your skin. He gives you another load while your pussy clenches around him. Your toes curl and you cum intensely, gushing over him messily again, your stomach fluttering with his dick still pumping his essence into you and some of his previous cum leaking out. “Stupid Yuuji..” you’re all fucked out but your pissed as hell “Hah..sorry” little does he know he’s not getting sex from you for a while.

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

[elegyofthemoon]

47, 49?

🥺 thanks anon. i'll do this for orupeusu! apparently i don't talk about him enough according to my compile doc

OC Ask

47: How do they express love?

In song :) He apparently likes to sing (and this is something I have to tease out a bit. Where'd he learn to sing if not from the female official since by his time the female officials were not allowed to speak?), so I feel that he often likes to express his love in the form of a song.

So in a way, words of affirmation is probably his go-to!

...This does actually make me think though. Because Clymene does mention that everyone who heard Orupeusu sing would want to join in, and Orupeusu wanted Clymene to sing with him too.

My thoughts are mostly drifting to "Orupeusu's form of love comes in song" and I think if people sang along with him, I guess I can't help but think that maybe Orupeusu as a Sunchild was actually more loved compared to the past Sunchildren? Maybe I should rank "most loved - most hated" for the Sunchildren --

49: Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

🧍‍♂️o. I should have looked at the questions first before picking the kids WHOOPS

Since I do have the dialogue still open:

I think Orupeusu was the one (if not the only one) who knew what the Solar Return meant for him. He knew of his fate, and I think he has sort of complex feelings about it:

On one hand, he knows that this is expected of the Sunchildren. This is some "tradition" pushed by the Jibashiri as their "duty." He feels that he has no other choice but to follow along for his people.

On the other hand, Clymene also mentioned how her kids would be so terrified in general of their duties. And for that, I feel that Orupeusu, though not forward about it, also felt afraid of no longer being here. Or rather, maybe he felt afraid learning the truth of his kingdom that people did not question or think twice of this ritual. That time and time again, the Sunchildren would be sacrificed just so the Jibashiri can continue to be in power. Where does he put that weight of finding out the truth? How can he fight against this, knowing the history of the Sunchildren? Of the public's view on the Sunchildren all these years?

It's overwhelming and for it, he fears his own death, but at the same time, he accepts it.

I think the only way I can really characterize it is remembering Lacie's story from PH: all those years of holding onto this truth that someday you will die by the hands of someone you love, but accepting fate as it is, believing that this surely would be a happier ending for everyone else. Even at his loss.

[thatsdemko]

unknown - m.verstappen

masterlist | pairing: max verstappen x Hamilton!fem!reader. summary: when an unknown number comes across his phone, max can’t help but discover who’s sent him the image he can’t erase from his mind. warnings: 18+ + fingering (f receiving) + mentions of nudity + fluff (at the end). a/n: I want to give a huge shoutout to @monzabee for always being my inspiration to finish my smut, but also for convincing me to read twisted games (this ones inspired by that xx)

unknown

attachment: 1 image

the pinging sound distracts him from the current game on his television. pausing for a quick second, max glances at the unknown number and slides the message open as curiosity struck him.

unknown

can you see my nipples through this?

Max’s phone nearly drops into his lap at the second message. he barely got the chance to even open the image, the second message was far too appalling and his hands got too slippery from the precipitation building around him.

“max! come on!” the chatter from his headset snaps his attention from the black phone screen in his lap. red slips across his cheeks as he apologizes quickly for the distraction, and continues on like nothing happened.

though he couldn’t lie, the curiosity of the image was certainly looming around him. what was the person wearing? could he see said nipples? he couldn’t help but try to sneak peaks at his phone whenever he got the chance before the stream ended.

finally free from his friends, max slides open his phone and his breath sucks inward. you could definitely see your nipples through the sheer linen tight white top. in fact, if it weren’t for your underwear, you could see the very outline of your vagina.

fuck. max was unsure to text back. if he did, what would he even say? there was no clear indication on who it was sending the message. he didn’t recognize the number, and on top of that there was no face. the image was purely just the outfit.

max verstappen

a bra would be appropriate.

your heart fell about five stories down, and right into the pit of your gut. shit, you didn’t send the message to your friends. instead, you mistook the ID you tapped on for one of them, and it turned out to very clearly be your brothers rival: max verstappen.

unknown

don’t mention this to Lewis.

max verstappen

secret is safe with me.

while this made perfectly good blackmail, max had nothing against you. you were completely innocent and most likely too stupid to notice you tapped his phone number instead. he’d never utter a word to Lewis, and the photo would die with max whenever the time may be.

max verstappen

where are you headed looking like that?

y/n Hamilton

your moms house.

max stifled out a chuckle unable to believe that you were born by the same parents as Lewis. when it came to humor, Lewis used it very minimal, but from the select times max had spoken to you, you were the complete opposite. meditation was joke, veganism was impossible to follow, and driving at fast speeds was too boring. y/n hamilton was every opposite of her brother.

max verstappen

I think my house is a better place for that

your heart somehow jumped back into its place, attempting to thump its way out of its cavity. max could easily be joking, he could easily be serious, but either way you shouldn’t go. max was probably not interested in women like you, and sure the photo might’ve tipped the scales in your favor, but you weren’t really into vanilla sex like he could offer.

y/n Hamilton

you wish I was headed to your place like this.

max verstappen

I do.

fuck. you close your eyes, letting your fingers type the message and hit send before you can even have a single regret. max might be your opposite in the bedroom, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s got up his sleeve.

y/n Hamilton

I’m free right now.

—

twenty minutes later his soft lips are leaving trails down your neck, his fingers work the buttons of the top that sickened his soul into this. he was careful not rip the material, but he was so the opposite of careful when his lips wrapped around your nipple.

his tongue and teeth graze the sensitive skin while you melt against his mattress into a puddle.

you were so wrong about him. oh so so, wrong.

he’d practically ripped that white shirt to shreds the second you entered his place. his tongue was a dominate force, shoved down your throat, his lips were passionate and full of eager. vanilla sex was so not max. you could write pages about him, no fantasy or book explored the way max did.

his fingers. oh gosh, they could write stories about how delicate, and soft they were. how they expanded your folds and had you clenching around nothing. they worked wonders— magic perhaps, pumping at such a fast speed you didn’t have time to react feeling him floor you until every drop of you was around him.

“these,” his tongue swipes across your breast, lips wrapping around the tip of your nipple, sucking you like a baby its thumb. it was relaxing, gut twisting, and chilling. he left you panting, begging, and still he wasn’t finished. no ounce of him showed signs of stopping.

when finally he was done toying, done with whatever ‘warmup’ he claimed this to be, his large cock filled you, warmth overtook with pleasure when you felt his hips grind yours. the rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like how his tongue moved on your skin, it was slow. he was slow, like he were to savor every moment of this.

you clench, you squeal, beg, whatever could come from you as noise. nothing was coherent, and max liked that. in fact, it quickened his pace with a smirk as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.

“you’re taking it well.” his voice is raspy, husk and faint. a moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, you could feel butterflies unleash in the warmth of your stomach as you cry out and come on his cock.

“you’re different than I expected you to be.” you say watching him roll to the pillow beside you, his blue eyes fixed on yours, they still have that hunger in them that turns you on.

“when you wear a top like that,” his breath sucks inward, a simple shake of his head at the newest dirty ideas floating in his mind, “I can’t control myself.”

a breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you curl your body into his, perfectly molding together, “I guess I’m glad I ditched the girls for you.”

a smile stretches across his lips that he carefully plants on your forehead, “thanks for the text, I hope to receive more in the future.”

“you earned yourself a spot on speed dial.”

[tinystepsforward]

What do you think the chances are that Mud Pit is gonna be ousted by the people who need Automattic to have good will in the eyes of the community to actually get anything out of this site and wattpad

I know it’s probably low but the fact that he’s acting like a poorer Elon Musk is making my skin crawl and making me hope that a second lawsuit hits the company

ok here's the thing. he is meant to be on sabbatical. automattic gives employees a three-month paid sabbatical every 5 years, so that they can have a break from the product they work on and come back rested and with a new perspective.

matt has never taken one before now. he spent the entire leadup to his sabbatical posting increasingly wild shit in public channels at the company (like the chess thing, or trying to get people to buy a friend's product, or the entire fracas with taking over the wordpress.org twitter account. wordpress.org is an independent non-profit that he is not the ceo of).

i mention this because people were hoping (including me) that he really would actually log off, have a chill time (or, idk, whatever kind of time CEOs who go off the grid bc they got flooded in at burning man like to have), and let the interim CEO get a chance to do a better job. that would help the board make a decision based on data.

he was very clearly spiraling before he even left, and then within the first few days of Company Sanctioned Log Off Time he's pulled multiple Classic Matt things on multiple parts of the company before showing up here. this whole thing is so deeply unfunny but it also is a bit of a tom and jerry or looney tunes bit, where i can only imagine HR or Legal is chasing him around the various accounts/platforms with a comically large inflatable baseball bat and he's just evading them.

he can't do that in person, but he still gets a lot of leeway generally. at the last division meetup (irl meeting for employees, flown from all over the world) he showed up twitchy and exhausted and hyped in a way that was very familiar to me from flatmates who used to steal and snort my adhd medication, then proceeded to drink so much over the course of an evening answering questions from his employees that he had to be firmly babysat off the stage and walked back into the lobby of the hotel to sober up.

i made eye contact with him that night, before he dropped his head back into his hands. two people relatively high up in the company were sitting with him, silently watching him as he struggled to sober up. it wasn't the first drunk shenanigan of his i witnessed at one of these, and this is purely opinion but i have to assume that his current behavior is the result of suddenly having time on his hands to have the world's longest bender and post through it.

back to your question: i do not know if what he's done is enough to get the board to remove him. i wish it didn't have to come to this to hope that they will. but we'll find out.

[daycourtofficial]

I pretend you’re mine all the damn time

Summary: on a mission Azriel ingests a breeding tonic and you offer to help him release

Warnings: SMUT, PIV, sex pollen, slight dubcon

Author’s note: I think this is my longest fic ever and also probably the fic I’m proudest of so yall BETTER enjoy. I think this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written ugh 😩 I will likely write a part two 🫶

Word count: 2.6k

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

“What the fuck,” you grunt, as you land a hit on another Illyrian after several minutes of exchanging blows.

You jab him in his ribs, blocking his retaliating kick. You huff as his hand grabs the knife at his side, deflecting your punch to his face.

You go low, swiping his legs out from under him, causing him to crash onto the ground. You climb on top of him, ready to land another blow, when his legs push up from underneath you, throwing you off of him.

He climbs on top of you, grabbing you by the collar to throw you back into the ground, when something strikes the back of his head, causing him to go limp on top of you.

Your confusion doesn’t last long as hazel eyes meet yours over the massive figure unconscious on top of you.

“I had it covered,” you said, pushing the male off of you.

Azriel snorts, “sure you did.”

He reaches out a hand, which you gladly take. He pulls you up with more force than he intended, pulling you in very close to his body. Your breath hitches, his smell of night-chilled mist and cedar invading your senses.

Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re sure he can hear it as he looks at you. He’s smiling down at you, a smile that weakens your knees and distracts you enough to forget all about the abandoned Illyrian camp you two were searching in.

At least, it was supposed to be abandoned, according to the intel you two had received. Azriel had asked you to come with him, the two of you making an exquisite pair on missions. Somehow you both knew when the other needed help, exemplified when Azriel hit the assailant from behind moments ago.

It’s like you both had a sixth sense for when the other was in danger.

You’re about to say something when something hits Azriel on the back of the head, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward into you.

His mouth turns into a sneer, as he whips around and the Illyrian you hadn’t seen or noticed grabs Azriel by the collar, pushing him into a wall full of bottles and tubes. The guy grabs one of the random bottles from the wall, breaking the lid and pouring the powdered contents onto Azriel’s face.

“Shit,” the words come from your lips as your knife finds its mark in the dark haired male’s back. You rush forward, withdrawing the knife before turning him around and plunging it into his throat.

You don’t pay attention as the body falls to the ground, only moving towards Azriel, who was growing unsteady on his feet.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m here, I’m here,” you say, placing your hand on his arm. He snatched his arm away from you, and you can’t help the sound that comes from you at his rejection.

He is groaning, sweat beading on his forehead. He leans further against the wall, trying to escape your reach.

“Don’t,” he grits out.

“What is it? Do you know what the powder was?”

Azriel finds his canteen of water, unscrewing the cap and pouring it over his head.

“Az,” you say, but a growl cuts you off.

“Don’t,” he grits again, “don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

He braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily. He finally looks at you, allowing you to see his eyes. Golden irises have been replaced by blown pupils, a black pit of desire. The room is coated in the scent of his arousal.

“Azriel,” you say tersely, “we have to go now, we have to go and see Madja because I have no clue what you inhaled.”

Azriel pushes himself further against the wall as you approach him, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible.

“I can’t- I can’t winnow us out of here,” he says, the words strained. It’s then you notice that his shadows are nowhere to be seen, having disappeared when your attention was fully on the Illyrian in front of you.

You step closer again, and his chest heaves with the groan he lets out.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” The words come out harsh and clipped, a tone he’s never taken with you. You’re trying desperately to think of a solution, a way out of this, when you see Azriel’s hand gripping his thigh, moving closer to his crotch.

His face is red with heat and embarassment, but you can’t look away as he begins to palm himself through his leathers, as if he wasn’t in control of his hand.

“Oh gods,” you say, “this was that experimental breeding shit, wasn’t it?”

Azriel nods, his throat tight with pain.

“Fuck,” you say, and he groans.

You think about what you know about the sickening breeding experiments some of the Illyrians were doing. Previous intel from Az had told you all that they had created this drug that made you-

“Oh my gods,” you say, “we have to-“

“No,” he snarls, “no. I can do this on my own.”

“Come on, Az, you’ll die if you don’t.”

He clinches his hands in a fist, his face turning red with restraint. He looks up at the ceiling, and his eyes are damp. His wings twitch and flutter.

“We don’t know that,” he says, his hand undoing the string on his leather, any control he had over the hand is gone as his hand wraps around his cock and he begins pumping it.

“Am I really that repulsive that you’d rather die than have sex with me?”

A moan comes from his mouth. His voice comes out quiet and strained, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I need it to be real. With you - if we - can we pretend it’s real?”

You stop breathing, his words clanging through your mind. “What do you mean?”

The words. He can’t get the words out. His body is on fire. He’s the Night Court’s spy master, for Cauldron’s sake.

And he can’t fucking move. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

“This isn’t how I ever would have imagined our first time.”

“But you’ve imagined it?”

“Gods, yes.”

You step closer, your hand reaching out towards him. You look into his eyes, wanting to know that it’s okay. All you find in response is pleading. Your hands lightly touch the buckles of his armor, and he gasps, his movements in his pants growing faster at your touch.

A man starved. He gazes up at the ceiling, tears about to leak from his eyes at this entire impossible situation. You were going to ruin him. You were going to break his heart, and then have sex with him to keep this from driving him mad.

It was cruel. The mother was cruel for this.

“I’ve thought a lot about it too,” you whisper, your voice softly carrying through the room.

He whips his head down at you, watching your fingers undo his straps. Your touch cools his body, but not for long.

Desire roars through him, and it is taking every ounce of restraint not to rip off your clothes and take you. He’s fighting the primal instincts that the pollen targets, his hands itching to touch you, to ravish you, opting to focus on your words.

“I always wanted you to confess your undying love for me,” you chuckle, “or, sometimes when I’m alone in the middle of the night, touching myself to you.”

A strangled sob escapes his throat at your words, causing him to notice his surroundings for a second. He can smell you, and it pushes him even further in need.

He can’t stop his hips from moving forward, meeting your own. His hand retracts from his pants, wrapping around you instead to pull you closer. Every word from you causes his resolve to crumble just a bit more as his hips grind against yours.

You were a bit breathless at the action, so you say, “when I’m feeling romantic, you tell me you can’t dare to be away from me for another moment, and you need me.”

A snarl breaks from his lips, causing your arousal to deepen. You are soaked, likely through your leathers.

“But when I’m just needy, I like to imagine you hearing me moaning your name through the door, and you burst in, claiming me as yours.”

His mouth opens as he moans, and you push the fabric of his leathers off his chest, raking your nails down his torso.

“Gods,” he exhales, “I-“

You cut him off, needing to get the words and fantasies you kept so deeply buried out there, future consequences be damned.

“I need you,” you whisper, “I’ve needed you for a long time.”

You were well aware of how much pain he was in trying to delay this for as long as possible.

His eyes are closed as your fingers slide down to the strings of his leathers. You don’t let yourself think too much about what you’re doing, about how the flight home will be, about how after this your teeny, tiny crush on him will be blown out exponentially worse.

Your fingers gently undo the ties, and his hips seek out the heat of your hands, begging for the friction they could provide.

You slide his pants down, his hard, throbbing cock springing free at the loss of its confines. Your mouth dries a bit at the size of him and the blood rushing to both your cheeks and between your hips.

You look from his cock to his face, teeth clenched in restraint.

His eyes open to yours at the sound of your leathers unbuckling, a soft, “no” hitting your ears.

“Azriel,” you start, but a moan escapes him at his name on your tongue.

He starts chanting your name like a prayer, over and over, a cadence to his chantings as you peel off the top of your leathers, exposing the expanse of skin underneath.

The chanting continues as you pull off the bra you wore, baring your chest to him completely. His hand wraps around his cock, the tip already angrily leaking in desperation.

The chanting picks up in tempo as you undo the strings of your own pants, eyes not straying from his as he strokes himself to your half-naked form. You push your pants down, pushing your underwear down as well, pulling them off with your boots, kicking your discarded clothes into a corner.

You walk back towards him, the sounds of his stroking and panting utterly sinful through the room. His breath hitches as you near him, reaching a hand out towards his cock.

“May I?” You ask, and you want to laugh at the formality of it, if you weren’t terrified of him saying no.

He nods lightly, his throat bobbing, and your fingers graze his as you grab onto his cock, wrapping your hand around it. His wings spread out at your grasp, head tilting back.

You take the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his grip on the desk is turning his knuckles white.

Your strokes don’t slow down, and it’s not until now that you feel just how wet you are. You feel bad, your arousal a byproduct of the state he’s in. He can’t help his arousal, but you can help yours.

You don’t let the shame linger for too long as you spread your palm across his chest, pushing him down onto the desk, crawling on top of him as he sinks lower.

His back hits the desk, his large membranous wings spread out behind him. Having him laid out beneath you, you allow yourself a few seconds to take in just how beautiful he was.

His tattoos covered his shoulders, making parts of his skin blend in with the darkness of the desk beneath him. His mouth parted slightly, head tilted back towards the skies, as if asking the heavens to watch your sinful acts.

You climb on top of him, the heat of your body driving him mad with desire.

“Is this okay?” You ask, trepidation coating your words.

“Gods, yes,” he replies, knowing he shouldn’t let this happen, but unable to stop himself. You’re hovering over his cock, the organ twitching as it feels just how close you are to sinking onto him.

The guilt is tampered down by the ever-growing need in his brain to breed, breed, breed. It was absolutely vile whatever these experiments were, but holy gods did it unlock a level of primal need he didn’t think existed.

His hands find your hips, and he can’t control how harshly he pulls you down onto his cock, a sharp inhale coming from you in the painful stretch.

He winces at the noise, but you stop him from allowing self-doubt to run through his head as you lean down and kiss him.

He moans into your mouth, his deep, harsh thrusts making the kiss nothing but teeth clacking and wet noises. Your nails dig into his skin as you keep grinding up and down on his cock, every thrust seemingly feeling deeper and deeper inside of you.

He keeps chanting your name, over and over, into your mouth, and you change the pace of your thrusts to coincide with it. His hands smooth over your hips, gliding up to your breasts. His fingers pinch your nipples, causing your back to arch around his touch.

You know he can’t hold out much longer - he’s painfully close, and so are you. Your stomach’s in knots, desperate for more, more, more. You reach out a gentle hand, caressing the nail on his wing. His eyes shoot open, wings flaring out as he gasps, emptying himself into you.

It causes the same effect in you, the both of you finishing at the same time. His thrusts slowed down, but he kept his tight grip on your hips. You can feel the pads of his fingers digging into your skin, leaving small bruises in their wake. Your foreheads are together, panting as he holds you for a moment.

For one glimmer of a moment, he’s holding onto you, sweat glistening on both of your bodies.

Status report.

Rhys’s voice fills your mind through the tiny opening in your mind you allow him to correspond with you in. You can tell Azriel is getting the same message as his eyes lose their shine, a glossy effect taking over them.

With a heavy heart, you pull off of Azriel, unable to respond to Rhys while his brother’s cock was still inside of you. You start pulling your leathers back on, covering the fluids and marks littering your body - the only proof of what just happened between you two.

The air is tense as Azriel dresses, still speaking with Rhysand. After a moment, his voice comes out, cold and detached.

“Let’s go,” he says, walking out of the room without another word, an icy air following him. Your gaze follows him out the door, before looking around the room.

The stench of sex is in the air, but there’s almost a hint of pain in the aroma. The air is suffocating you - you have to leave, you have to follow Az.

You look to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. Your eyes turn down to gaze at your feet as you slowly trudge out of the room, knowing you likely just ruined your most important friendship.

[twstowo]

Kissing Their Foreheads [Twst Third Years]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You kiss their foreheads.

♡︎ Includes: Third Years

[First Years]☆[Second years]☆[Here]☆[One final forehead kiss]

⋆⋅☆Cater:

It took him a moment to realize that you had kissed his forehead, but when the realization fully processed inside his head, he hugged you. He was happy that you kissed him there since he understands the meaning behind kisses. He took a picture of both of you but, for once, didn’t share it. He would like to keep this moment for himself since he felt so content with you showing him affection.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Trey:

You can even catch him off guard while he is cooking, and his reaction will be the same. He gives you a sweet smile and caresses your hair. He is accustomed to kissing his younger siblings' foreheads and receiving some in return, so he sees the gesture as something completely normal.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Leona:

Leona gives you the biggest side eye ever. "What was that for, Herbivore?" Throw him in the pit! You need to explain that you just wanted to kiss his forehead, as if he didn’t know already. He will probably just go back to sleep. As you start to stand up, ready to leave him alone since he clearly didn’t seem that fazed with the kiss, he just pulls you down. Now you are stuck with a sleeping Leona. If you decide to rest and fall asleep, he gives you a forehead kiss.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Vil:

He raises his eyebrow at you, but then laughs it off. He takes hold of your hand and kisses it while staring at you the whole time, making you turn into an embarrassed mess. He just loves that look of yours, so he gets a little bolder and slowly kisses up your arm. Once he is done, he tells you your hair looks dishevelled and suggests you come with him so that he can fix it. Will he really just fix your hair? We will never know.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Rook:

Finds it so interesting that you just kissed his forehead. To be fair, he knows that you have been kissing everyone’s forehead, so he was just waiting painfully for his turn. Now that he finally got his kiss, he isn’t completely satisfied. Only one kiss? If you give in and give him another, he will go in for your defenceless neck and give it a kiss. You jump in your spot with the unexpected touch, and you can only watch as he laughs at your embarrassed reaction.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Idia:

He had been hiding from you since he overheard your conversation about kissing him with Ortho. Don't get him wrong, he had been dreaming of you kissing him for the longest time ever, but the thought of it actually happening scares him away. So when you found his hiding spot, his room, and just took hold of his blushing face, you gave him a soft forehead kiss. He won't move from his spot no matter what you do, so you just decide to leave him alone. At night, he will be giggling, twirling his hair, waving his legs in the air while thinking about the kiss you gave him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Lilia:

Oh my, a forehead kiss? He is so glad for the sweet gesture. However, he is also aware that you have been kissing everyone’s foreheads, and he had been spending all of his time hearing a whining Malleus who had yet to receive one of those kisses from you. So he takes hold of you and just teleports you to Malleus, leaving the two of you alone.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Malleus:

Literally runs to you as soon as he sees you, with this not suspicious at all look on his face as he tries to start a normal conversation with you. But he keeps on throwing random comments about kisses and foreheads. He keeps showing his forehead to you as if trying to convey what he wants. When you tell him that you can't reach his forehead, his eyes widen as he had never thought of it before. So he leans down, and he finally gets his well-deserved kiss. You can see how happy he is, there is this silly smile plastered on his face, and he can’t get it to go away.

@k4sumis0u

[fangirl-dot-com]

🍾Track 5 - Don't Blame Me

*sorry for the delay folks! I made this chapter a little bit longer because you all have been so patient with me! I got my paper done and my teacher looked over it before I turned it in and she liked it! so I hope you all like this chapter! for Logan I am using Kimi during Lotus for his body claim and then for reader I am using Nico during Renault. the cars are going to be switching*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

“And that is pole mate. Good job!” 

Logan was shaking as he took his cooldown lap around the track to get back to the pits. He was wondering if his radio was working correctly. 

“Did you say pole?” his voice shakily responded. 

“Yep! Great pace and congrats are in order.” 

He didn’t respond to that, still in disbelief. As he pulled the yellow and black car into Parc Ferme at the number 1 spot, his head whipped around. He let out a sigh in relief as his eyes landed on your own yellow car pulling into the number 2 spot. 

The blond went through his routine of turning off the engine and undoing the steering wheel before standing up and putting it back on. As he was bending down, he felt a slap to his back. Once the wheel had finally been placed in correctly, he turned in the direction of the hand. 

He could see your eyes crinkled through the opening of your visor as your hand clasped his. When he felt your glove, he finally recognized that this was not a dream and Logan was on pole for the first time in his career at the Bahrain Grand Prix. 

A flash of red also came up beside him and scrunched green eyes followed. 

“Mate, you were flying! Your time is so close to almost a one second gap!” he heard Charles say as the three of them took their helmets off so that they could be weighed. 

Logan let out a small laugh. “I was just driving.” 

You shook your head. “Just driving my ass. Lo, this is unbelievable.” 

The American turned his head to look at the other cars slowly pulling in. Max’s car was first in the line, signifying his P4 spot for tomorrow’s race. His face did not look happy as he took his own helmet off and glared at the stewards. Logan shrank in a bit at the sight of the angry Dutchman. When blue eyes met gray, Logan quickly turned his face to the side. 

“I think Max might be mad at me,” he muttered to you as you and Charles lined up for pictures. Charles sighed. 

“He’s not mad at you mate. He’s mad because they messed up their quali strategies. He was supposed to do three laps but they only let him do one.” 

Logan nodded his head and smiled for the flashing cameras. Once they were done and Charles went to be interviewed, Logan looked back at where the Dutchman had been. Only this time, Max was smiling wide as he looked at the two Lamborghini drivers. His hand waved them over. Logan nodded before making his way over to be interviewed after you were done.  

You had already found yourself conversing with Charles while Logan went over to Max. Logan was still a bit weary, but his fears melted once he was brought into a giant hug from the Red Bull driver. He sighed a bit and visibly deflated in hug. 

Once he pulled away, his eyes landed on some other familiar drivers that made his blood run cold. Alex and Oscar were looking at him like he just ran over their family dog and Lando had a murderous look in his eyes. 

Max saw the moment that Logan tensed. His gray eyes followed Logan’s line of sight and he sighed once he saw who he was looking at. He looked back to Logan. 

“He, dat is niet nodig. Negeer ze gewoon. Jij staat op pole en zij niet.” (Hey, there’s no need for that. Just ignore them. You’re on pole and they’re not.)

Logan sighed. “Waarschijnlijk eindig ik niet zoals altijd.” (I’ll probably just end up not finishing like always.) 

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Zeg dat niet. Je heb teen betere auto dan de meeste mensen op de baan. Laat ze niet bij je komen. Je bent een goede chauffeur.” (Don’t say that. You have a better car than most of the people on track. Don’t let them get to you. You’re a good driver.) 

Logan felt a bit better at the words being spoken to him. He was glad that he had begun to brush up on his Dutch so he wasn’t as rusty as he thought. He snorted as he looked at the other drivers’ wide eyes as they tried to look like they weren’t listening on their conversation. 

He looked over back at you and saw that you were pretending to tap a watch on your wrist. His eyes widened as the noticed the time. He turned to Max. 

“I got to go back to the garage. I think Y/n and I were going out to dinner tonight and you’re welcome to join if you want to. George and Lewis are also joining and she was supposed to ask Charles.”

Logan’s head turned back to you as he mentioned your name. Max smiled fondly at how he observed Logan looking at you. Hopefully, for Logan’s sake and mental health, you weren’t as oblivious as someone that was on the receiving end of his own glances. 

The American turned back to Max as he waited for the answer. The older man nodded. 

“Yeah, just text me the address and I’ll be there.” 

Max wished he would have said yes sooner, because the smile on Logan’s face practically rivaled the sun at the acceptance of a dinner invitation. 

“Great! I will see you there.” 

Logan gave the man a half hug before lightly jogging over to you. You saw the smile on Logan’s face as he got closer.

“Max said he can come to dinner,” Logan mentioned as the two of you began to walk to the garage. 

You smiled up at him. “Great because Charles also said that he can come as well. George and Lewis already have the address, and I made sure that the restaurant had vegan options before I gave them the location just in case we needed to change it or something.” 

Logan watched as you rattled on about the menu before he suddenly stopped as the two of you were in the hallway. Your brows pinched as you turned to your friend. 

“You ok Logs?” 

Logan’s face suddenly brightened as he pulled you into a hug. Although you were confused, your arms wrapped around his waist. He dug his face into the top of your head. 

“We’re P1 and P2 for tomorrow’s race,” he muttered. You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that his sudden stop wasn’t anything too serious. 

You pulled back just a bit to look him in the face. As you studied him a bit, you realized how close the two of you were. 

Had he always had those green flecks in his blue eyes? 

And had you always had that freckle near your top lip? 

Logan’s head was a bit bent as he stared down at you. He glanced around as he lightly licked his lips as they had gotten dry in the desert air. His eyes eventually met yours again. His forehead moved down to rest against yours and you were just enveloped in him. 

Logan. Logan. Logan. 

He took up too much space in your soul, but you didn’t want him to ever leave. 

Y/n. Y/n. Y/n. 

You had moved into Logan’s heart years ago and still didn’t pay rent. Good thing Logan wanted to keep you there as long as possible. 

“We’re late to debrief.” 

A groan escaped his lips as Logan finally let you go. The two of you entered the conference room still wrapped in each other’s arms. Marissa gave Michael a knowing smirk as the two of you sat down next to each other. 

The two of you were listening intently at the chosen strategies for tomorrow’s race. It would be a two-stopper with Logan being pitted first to keep the lead. However, if it seemed as though you were faster, you’d be granted the opportunity to race against him. 

You truly hope that you were slower. You wanted Logan to show everyone what he could truly do. 

Michael knew that the two of you wanted hotel rooms next to each other and that is exactly what he got. However, he warned that Williams was also going to be in the same hotel and to look out for Alex and James. You jokingly said that you probably wouldn’t see them, it was a big hotel. 

But now that you were in an awkward elevator ride with Logan, Alex, and James, you weren’t laughing. 

Alex had sighed as he pressed a button, keeping his eyes low. He didn’t even want to see what floor the two of you were going to. But, his curiosity got the best of him and his eyes widened when he saw the penthouse buttons pressed. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

Once Alex and James stepped off the elevator and the doors closed, you and Logan burst into a fit of giggles. You actually had to hold onto Logan to keep standing up straight. 

“Did you see Alex’s eyes when he noticed what floor we were going to?” you could hardly get out with all the giggles. 

“James looked like he wanted to die!” Logan helped you out of the elevator since you were still gasping for breath. 

“I can’t wait for the press conference when James and Michael are in the same one,” you giggled. “It might not be for a few races though. I think the FIA wants little to no drama.” 

Logan sighed as he jumped on the giant bed once he entered the room. It was so nice going from an itchy single bed to a bed that had sheets probably worth more than his first salary. And the smell was so much more fresh. The environment of the room just helped him relax. He’d be lying though if he said he wasn’t nervous about tomorrow. 

But that’s why they were going out to dinner tonight, just to get the edge of just a bit before going to bed. It always hurt Logan when he had to go to sleep after a full night of isolation and his own thoughts. 

His breath hitched in his throat when you showed him the dress you were wearing for the night. It was tight in all the right places, showing off your strong body. He was glad that you were so comfortable in your own skin, seeing as you were a bit more muscular and wider. But you had to be to do your job. And Logan would pick you any day over anyone. 

He let out a low whistle which made you blush under his gaze. You took one of the pillows and threw it at his head. 

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get ready now.” 

You only got an eye roll in response, but Logan rolled over and got off the bed. You knew he didn’t need a lot of time to get ready, but you wanted to get there early. It was your turn to whistle when Logan walked out in a button up and some slacks. 

Logan may have turned a shade of pink as he rolled his sleeves up and sprayed some cologne. He somewhat knew that he was attractive. But, he still couldn’t help but compare himself to people like Lando or Charles. 

You grabbed your purse as Logan put his phone and wallet into his pockets. You turned to pout at him. 

“Can you drive?” 

And how could Logan ever say no to your puppy eyes. He even opened the door for you at the hotel and at the restaurant. You rolled your eyes as you took his hand, slinging your legs over the door frame of the Urus. 

“And they say chivalry is dead.” 

Logan snorted as he led you to the front of the restaurant. It wasn’t anything fancy, but real wealth was silent, or whatever the filthy rich people said. 

The man shot a smile at the hostess, and you could see her visibly swoon. You may have felt some jealousy bubble inside your chest, but it went away when Logan’s hand slithered across your lower waist, pulling you into his side. 

If it were just the two of you, you would have molded yourself against him. But this was a public place and the main floor was filled. Logan knew this was a possibility and booked a private room, out of sight from any unwanted eyes. (Mainly, he heard that McLaren might host a dinner here and he did not want Oscar or Lando to ruin anything.) 

Funnily enough, the two of you were the first ones there. You took a look at your phone and read the messages from the four different guys that they were almost there.

Logan and you took the liberty to get some wine for the table. He almost wanted to be petty and order the most expensive wine possible, just to flaunt a bit, since now he had a salary that rivaled Charles’s or even George’s. Eight figures would do that to a person. But he knew that you liked a more simpler wine when eating food. You claimed it helped the dishes taste better, since your tongue wouldn’t be doused with thick wine. 

The waiter had just come back with the bottle, when the same hostess opened the sliding doors, revealing Max, Charles, Lewis, and George. You smiled at them. 

“Did you four all drive together?” 

Max looked a bit sheepish. “Apparently we’re staying at the same hotel, so we just carpooled.” 

“Ah.” 

Since you and Logan were already sitting next to each other (definitely for moral support), the rest filled in the round five seater. Charles took a place by you, followed by George and Lewis. Max sat on the other side of Logan. 

Charles immediately looked at the menu. “I’ve never been here, but the dishes look fantastic.” 

It also helped that there was a plethora of Italian dishes. 

“I’ve been here once, like two years ago,” you said before taking a sip of wine. “We, uh Arrow, came to watch the opener since Pato was wanting to start training to be a reserve. I was told that there was a price limit. The limit they gave me didn’t even cover one dish. To my surprise, everyone was able to get what they wanted.” 

Lewis looked at you with a pity smile. You waved your hand. 

“It was fine in the end. I eventually left, took one of their new Mercedes, and drove to I think Burger King.” 

George almost spit his drink out at the story. Lewis smirked. 

“Sounds like something my teammate would do. And it would probably be my car he would steal.” 

“Hey!” 

It wasn’t long before the same waiter came to take the numerous orders. Knowing that everyone had a race the next morning, the dishes were light and protein packed. Lewis was delighted to see that there were many options for vegan dishes. 

Towards the end of the meal, the guys asked for the check, not seeing that Logan had already asked for it ahead. He smirked as he quietly slipped his card into the booklet and handed it back. The hostess was nice as she explained that it had already been paid for. 

“Mate,” Charles started before Logan held his hand up. 

“It’s fine. Not like it’ll do anything to the checking account you know?” 

You smirked behind your cup. 

Max also had a grin. “You have big boy money now? How much were they paying you at Williams compared to Lamborghini?” 

Logan’s eyes looked up slightly as he mentally did the math. 

“So Williams ended my salary at 1 million, so,” he winced a bit, “Andretti upped it to 30 million, give or take.” 

You huffed. “At least you made it into the millions with Williams. Arrow was paying me around nine-hundred-thousand dollars.” 

George asked, “How much were the other drivers making?” 

“O’Ward was paid around 4 million.” 

Logan’s head whipped to you. “They were paying you that little?” 

You only shrugged, really not wanting to talk about your time with Arrow. “It’s fine. I’m getting paid the same amount at Logan so I’m good.” 

Around 9 p.m., Max mentioned that they should head back to the hotel. You and Logan agreed. However, as you walked out, your eyes caught familiar people. You scoffed and kept walking. Everyone looked in the direction that your head had been and also saw the big table full of the McLaren team, including Pato and David. 

Seeing your reaction, they just kept on walking. 

You’d show them tomorrow at the race how much they fumbled. 

Arrow and Williams needed to realize that they lost the best things that they. 

The next morning, you and Logan were there bright and early to go over last minute things. Logan also definitely found out that he has a staring problem, because his eyes could not leave you as you talked to one of your mechanics. 

It was nice to see you in your environment. Logan was also very happy with mechanics and a team that actually listened to what he said and suggested. Williams never did that. 

Logan felt peace as he sat in the car, waiting to get on the track. He had never felt like this at Williams. He always felt on edge, like one mess up and he’d be replaced midseason. Maybe if they didn’t put so much pressure on him, he wouldn’t have messed up so many times. 

He knew that he could drive well. 

“Just remember Logan, Y/n is going to help create a gap. No pressure, just smooth and clear driving,” his engineer Elio said over the radio. He had been thankful for the older man. He kind of reminded him of kind uncle. Not too old to be a grandpa, but older than Logan by almost 20 years. 

“Copy. Are we ready to go?” 

“Lights out in 5.” 

Logan inhaled deeply as he flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. 

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the 2024 Bahrain Grand Prix! Logan Sargeant maintains the lead at turn 1, his teammate right behind him. Max Verstappen gets ahead of Charles Leclerc but Leclerc is not going to give up. Oh! What is going on in the back! 

It looks like both McLarens have taken each other out at turn 2! Alex Albon has dropped two places and now resides in P17 with teammate Theo in P18. 

Sargeant is going into turn 3 and is still ahead with his teammate out of the DRS zone.”

“Ok Logan, it’s a virtual safety car. Keep pace nice and steady.” 

“Who was it?” 

Elio sighed before responding. “Both McLarens are out, debris is being cleared. Safety car ending in 1 lap.” 

Logan wanted to laugh so much on the radio. What were the odds of both McLarens getting out before the first lap of the race. 

Karma was Logan’s bitch. 

The race remained pretty uneventful after the virtual safety car was lifted. You did an amazing job maintaining pace with Charles gaining and then falling back. It seemed like he was toying with you, but your car was slower on the corners and his car was slower on the straights. It balanced out perfectly. 

It was nerve wracking when your engineers decided to call both you and Logan into the pits at the same time for a double stack.

However, people should have never doubted at you and Logan both had pit stops under 2.5 seconds each, letting the two of you keep the lead that you built. You had come out behind some drivers, but they hadn’t pitted at all. 

The Lamborghini garage erupted with cheers as you and Logan got closer to the end, still in a respectable 1-2. 

“LOGAN SARGEANT WINS THE BAHRAIN GRAND PRIX, FIRST OF HIS CAREER! AND Y/N L/N BRINGS IT HOME WITH A 1-2 FOR THE LAMBORGHINI-ANDRETTI RACING TEAM! 

“I know that Michael and Tonino are very happy with this driver set up. 

“Charles Leclerc crosses the line with the checker flag in P3 after an intense battle of his own with Verstappen who finishes in P4.”  

Logan stood on the nose of his car and just screamed as he hunched over. Every emotion was piling on him and this was the only way of escape. When he was finished, he was pulled down into your waiting arms. The two of you couldn’t help but jump up and down and just congratulate each other. 

Charles and Max watched with fond eyes (and maybe cringed when the two of you wouldn’t break eye contact – because they were thinking Is that how we look?). 

The smile on Logan’s face could not be wiped off as he stood in the middle of you and Charles for pictures. It never left as he was being interviewed by Nico Rosberg. 

“Logan how are you feeling right now?” 

He was a bit speechless, but he was able to formulate a sentence. 

“Well, it’s just phenomenal, what the team did. I knew I was breaking some hearts of the fans when I couldn’t give them the results that I wanted to give them. Last year, I kind of felt like a play thing for everyone to use, because I just kept being let down.” 

Nico put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, I certainly hope that is not the case for this year?” 

Logan shook his head. “Not at all. Andretti came to me like some paradise in the darkest part of my life. It just took me a minute to realize that I just needed them, a good team. I’d cross the line for them, figuratively and literally. Just hoping that if I do, my lap times won’t be deleted.” 

The German through his head back and laughed at the metaphor. Logan was able to chuckle as well. You quickly switched with Logan after he was done. 

This year, they did interviews a bit different and let the race winner go first, followed by runner up and P3. 

“Y/n, my my my, that was outstanding with how you built the gap. Mind telling us how you did that?” 

You brought the microphone to your lips. 

“Well, Nico, it felt like I was wasting my time a bit, and losing my mind, just because it was just me in my little space. Charles and Max really kept me on my toes for the first half, but after the pit stop the gap just kept increasing.” 

The blond man smiled at your confession. “You definitely look like you had a good race though.”  

You nodded. “Of course. I’ve been told that I get this wild look in my eyes, but racing is just fun for me to do and I love it. I think with some of my initial moves, they were a bit more defensive than what I would like. I know some people are going to be like ‘she’s gone too far this time.’ But in the end, it’s just racing. Charles and I had a great time and Max at the beginning. It was perfect.” 

The podium was also the symbol of perfection. For the first time in decades, you got to hear the Star Spangled Banner play before the Italian anthem followed. You saw as Charles swayed back and forth and sang with it, a big smile on his face. 

Who doesn’t like the Italian national anthem? 

When the champagne came, it was a mess. Charles decided to go after you, and you went after Logan, who tried his best to spray the two of you back. While Charles went to spray his team below, Logan stopped right next to you. 

His blue eyes met yours and quickly darted to your lips that were sticky with the bubbly. 

He leaned down and whispered, “Don’t blame me, I’m about to do something crazy.” 

Logan didn’t wait for your reply and cut the distance between the two of you. You were shocked but quickly registered the feeling of his lips on yours. Your eyes immediately closed as you kissed back. 

Michael, who had gone up to receive the constructor’s trophy, quickly leaned over the rail. 

“Marissa, you owe me!” he shouted, making the Lamborghini team laugh. Many of them knew of the bet between the two siblings. 

Everyone else was shocked as the two of you were lost in your own little world. Well, you were lost until Charles came back over and dumped the rest of his champagne bottle on your heads. You quickly parted to spray him back. This time, the Ferrari driver was soaked as you and Logan attacked him. 

When the three of you stood for the picture, you on Logan’s left, Michael on his right, with Charles the other side of Michael. Your head got closer to Logan’s ear as you all smiled. 

“You’re crazy Logan Sargeant,” you whispered. 

Logan turned to face you, his bright smile back on his lips. 

“I’m not doing love right if it doesn’t make me crazy.” 

At the top, Logan missed the dark and pained looks of three drivers. Two in orange and one in blue. They all looked lonely in the sea of yellow and black. 

At the top, however, it wasn’t lonely. Logan had all that he needed. 

lamborghini_racing has posted

lamborghini_racing happy drivers, happy boss, happy 1-2 🥳

liked by dior, lewishamilton, logangirlie, and 5,204,295 others

lambo_duo AYO THAT'S MY TEAM

papa_tonino grazie a tutti! grande gara! 💛🖤

venus2 grazie mr. tonino! glad we could bring it home first for you!

logangirlie when I say slay, I mean SLAYYYYY 💅

lambo&co GUYS ARE WE JUST GOING TO SKIP THE PODIUM KISS???????

y/n_95 I think I cried a bit when I watched it - they really said childhood friends to lovers

formulala_delulu ngl that 1-2 was sexy. Logan leading by 15+ seconds with y/n in her own untouchable little world

lestappenlove Charles looked like he was going through a crisis when y/n and long wouldn't stop looking at each other in Parc Ferme

verstappenleclerc ikr - he was probably wondering if that's what he and Max look like

bee_lamborghini I just need every race to be like this one

venus2 has posted

venus2 if you aren't crazy then you ain't doin it right 🖤🍾

liked by charles_leclerc, logangirlie, logang2, and 2,048,175 others

American_f1 IT HAD BEEN TOO LONG SINCE THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER WAS PLAYED 🇺🇸

Logan.nation guys, I'm so proud of him. he really defied all the odds and showed them what they gave away! happy driver of the day as well Logan!

lambo_duo the pics go hard 🔥

phoenix95 proud of youuuuuuu 🥳❤️

venus2 i see you've taken Charles's class on instagram comments

charles_leclerc I taught my child well ☺️

lewishamilton your child 🤨

charles_leclerc *our child

loscar_no_more this was amazing (especially after you know who dnf-ed)

my_goat_logan the group picture on the podium was so wholesome

bennys_back DID ANYONE NOTICE BENNY CRYING WHILE HE WATCHED LOGAN?????

phoenix95 has posted

phoenix95 I'll be usin for the rest of my lifeeeee 🐝

liked by armani, georgerussell63, y/n.nation, and 2,105,893 others

y/ns_world the helmet is peak (the inverted) >>>>>

charlie&y/n she really is Charles's daughter

leclerc_line so we have y/n, the oldest, ollie the middle brother, and Leo as the youngest

shark_leclerk except y/n is also Lewis's kid, Ollie and Leo are Max's

venus2 again with the caption?

phoenix95 yes, and?

venus2 ☹️

maxverstappen1 @.charles_leclerc and @.lewishamilton - your kid made mine and George's kid sad

georgerussell63 put her in timeout 🫵

phoenix95 we're good now (I gave him another kiss)

maxverstappen1 DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW

y/n.nation expert masterclass from y/n today!

lambo_duo her driving is a symbol of perfection!

venus&phoenix the duo we didn't know we needed

landonorris has posted

landonorris definitely not what we wanted today, but we'll keep pushing 👊

liked by oscarpiastri, lando4norris, lannoLN4, and 1,204,295 others

lando_no_rizz you'll get back to it in Jeddah

loscar_no_more hmmmm maybe you're just not fit for f1?

logan2sargeant BYE 💀

ln4 next race is where it's at 👊

logangirlie karma at its finest

mclarengoldenboy head up lando, that win is coming!! 🏆

verstappen33 don't worry about lambo, they'll fall apart soon

bee_lamborghini make sure your drivers finish the race before you say something ☺️

norris4ever let's go lando!

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[greenglowinspooks]

Alright, since it’s no longer 2 in the morning and my head’s a bit clearer, I present to you:

Liminal Riddler

So, not everyone in the DC fandom knows about this, and I’d bet that even less people in the Phandom do, but at one point, the Riddler had cancer. Had, past-tense, because he cured it. With the Lazarus pits.

And yeah, not everyone who gets dipped in the pits has to be liminal, but one would assume that the sudden replacement of a large number of malignant cells throughout the body is gonna do something.

The Riddler already acts quite a lot like a DP ghost in some interpretations anyways. He’s got a strict gimmick that he genuinely can’t part ways with, he’s campy and fun, he’s incredibly violent, etc.

Also, the way that he would react to this whole thing would be funny as hell.

Do I think the Riddler would really care if the GiW was after him? No. This is Gotham, the government is constantly going after him anyways.

Do I think he would care if Danny was being hunted down by the same people, and his parents were involved? Somewhat. He probably wouldn’t care about Danny specifically, at least not right away, but a young boy running terrified from his own parents would definitely bring back some bad memories, and he would probably give him a hand (if for no other reason than to get back to plotting crimes instead of dealing with childhood trauma).

Do I think the Riddler, whose entire thing is being smarter than everyone else, would care if the GiW somehow let slip that they thought he didn’t have human intelligence? That they believed him to be nothing but an echo of human life?

It’s not even a question. He would be the most insufferable person in Gotham within the hour. Genuinely nothing could stop him, especially not if Danny was helping jailbreak him from Arkham every time he got caught.

Almost every major road is closed. Every warehouse on the Docks is on fire. Somehow, they managed to color the clouds and smog a bright green.

The natives of Gotham would probably get those anti-ghost laws and acts overturned faster than the Justice League, if only to make the Riddler stop. His traps and games aren’t even lethal at this point (due to Danny’s insistence), but they’re so genuinely annoying that the general population is about to beat the GiW agents to death themselves just to get the Riddler to quit it already.

Also, I think that during this whirl of chaos, the Riddler would become quite fond of Danny.

He’s a bright young boy who’s very fond of wordplay, and inventive enough to keep up with him. Aside from the inevitable crisis of “oh god I’m becoming the bat,” he’d probably be happy to take on Danny as his protégé. Even if the boy won’t let him kill anyone (rude), he’s a terrifying getaway driver and can turn the both of them invisible and intangible, making Arkham escapes a breeze.

Hell, the Riddler would probably be willing to make a false identity for the two of them, just so he could get the boy proper schooling.

(Yes, he thinks that the entire education system is a sham and that he could do much better, but Danny wants to go into aerospace engineering, and the Riddler isn’t one to squander someone’s interest in learning.)

(Also, Echo and Query would find the whole thing hilarious)

[mphountitled]

omg hi pookie bear , hru ?

i’m going feral and have a request <\3 hmm what if anton hasn’t seen his gf in a few months because she stays in the states . they usually make sure to call and check in with each other every night but maybe for the last few days she hasn’t been responding too much but only because she’s flying to go surprise him ! so basically a bit of angst then fluff at the end loll (and a little smut if ur up to it 🤓👆🏾) .

also, can i be 🎀 anon ?!

Of course, my darling! Thank you for the lovely request, I literally had so much fun writing this omg.

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡 | 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐞

- Pairings: Anton Lee x Fem!Reader

- Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Codependency, Angst, Jealousy, Relationship Paranoia, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Smut (+18, Minors DNI), Spitting, Size Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Unprotected Sex, Needy Sex

He wouldn't call himself obsessive.

That's not the correct word. Infatuation would probably best explain the tempest of emotions rattling through his brain when his phone rings, signaling a video call from you.

Sungchan's chest rises and falls with the extremities of their evening workout. He barely keeps himself toppling over when he and the rest of the group watch Anton lumber to his bag in large, quick steps

"Yo?" Sohee asks, anatomically defeated as he races to catch his breath.

"Carry on, without me," Anton throws over his hunched shoulder. He is cupping his phone with both hands when he enters one of the many bathrooms peppered throughout the gym, letting his feet guide him almost robotically into a stall while his finger swipes to answer the video call. At the sight of your relaxed smile, Anton exhales lightly.

He knew it's particularly bad to form dependant relationships, but he couldn't exactly help himself, can he? Your voice is just so light when you say, "Hi," and his is equally shy as he replies with his quiet "Hi yourself."

Anton can not help himself from being so incredibly infatuated. He's diving headfirst into codependency, but hey, at least he is aware.

At least he is aware that he would do quite literally anything for the girl in trapped in his phone, and you would do the same for him, therefore it is of no surprise at all when he airly says, "You're so pretty,"

His voice is barely above a whisper and his eyes are bright as he buries the lower half of his face in the comforting fleece of his black sweater. "Really pretty,"

An airy sort of chuckle escapes the confines of your lips, and Anton's pulse begins to race as he takes note of your tongue swiping over your bottom lip. "Anton, did you hear anything I just said?" If it weren't for the slight hesitation that pollutes the sound of your beautiful voice, Anton would've gladly kept staring at your lips. But his heart sinks imperceptibly as he gazes back at you apprehensively.

"Uh- no," he says, "I was too busy thinking about how excited I am for you to get here." The panic only begins to set when your smile wavers.

"Oh... about that-"

"No," he whispers, "Please don't do that-"

"My boss hasn't exactly cleared me for a vacation day-"

Anton is livid, but his voice remains stable. "We have spoken about this for 2 months!"

"You know how my boss can be," you reply, "He hasn't given me off, Anton. I have no one to cover my shift, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, as the dreaded guilt begins to trickle into your voice. Anton's eyes narrow, and he brings his phone closer. Temporarily ignoring his whirlwind of negative emotions, Anton instead skeptically asks, "Where are you?" That doesn't look like your bathroom."

Anton's heart only sinks lower into the pit of his stomach when he notices a quick hint of alarm flash through your eyes before you're pulling the camera back into a more intimate aspect ratio as you prattle on. "Yeah, I just decided to head to the movies to make myself feel better. Maybe you should do the same," your voice is tight and layered with anxiety as if you were... lying to him.

Anton cannot imagine why you would want to do that, least of all to him. He knew when you lied because you both did it together. On myriad occasions.

He made you call up your part-time job on multiple occasions, rubbing smoothe, encouraging circles on your belly while you feigned an illness just to spend more time with him.

In high school, you had both lied to each of your parents about 'studying together' when in actual fact, those 4 had been excuses to make out messily in your sheets. Exploring confusing emotions until a simmering heat flowed through the both of you while Anton's large hands began to pet over new, various spots on your body.

He had never been on the receiving end of your dishonesty, not even since he left the country. But here you are, evading eye contact, stuttering over your words and lying...

to him.

"How's the team workout been, big boy?" He notices with grave finality how quick you are to not only change the subject, but to weaponize a nickname that you knew would have him melting for you.

Is this what you have both become?

Was he seriously being manipulated?

Was he...

Perhaps...

Being cheated on?

The thought sent a wave of nausea threatening to spill out of his badly pursed lips, and perhaps you realize, from years of studying Anton's non verbal expressions, that he was thinking of something very grave and very bad.

"Hey, didn't you say you only had five minutes?" Your voice is like the tingling goosebumps left in the wake of your nails raking across his skin and he shivers slightly.

"Yeah," his voice, although characteristically quiet, is guarded and you frown, perhaps noticing that you have a lot of making up to do.

Anton suddenly, quite literally out of the blue, asks, "Remember when you said you went bra shopping the other day?

"Yeah?" You ask, completely oblivious to the darkened thoughts polluting your boyfriend's mind. You watch his eyes tare into yours as he monotonously asks.

"Are you wearing any of the new ones right now?"

"Anton, aren't you in the middle of-"

He immediately cuts in, voice impatient and snide, "They can carry on without me, it's fine."

It was petulant, but Anton needed to know you still belonged to him. He needed to know that high school wasn't some sick fever dream you could just swiftly move past as if it meant nothing. He needed to know that.

"Can I see?"

You curtly comply, and you look around before pushing yourself further into the stall. You both found yourselves on opposite end of a cellular line, both silent with the weight of your attraction to one another, keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

"Please?" He asks, in an airy voice, "for me?"

Anton knew from the strike of guilt in his chest that it was not a morally correct thing to do, but what else was there?

You would be away from him, indefinitely. He would have to spend another evening, another week, another month without your body to hold onto. Not to mention, the jealousy at this new hypothetical boyfriend still hung heavily on his shoulders.

Besides, Anton's guilt completely disappeared when you begrudgingly pulled the string of your halter neck down until the material was falling flmisily down your torso, exposing your chest to him. Anton released a wobbly breath while his hand almost immediately went to cover the bulge, forming in his oversized pants. "Oh god," he whispered.

It was so remarkably mesmerising watching your boyfriend slips so easily into desire. You knew he was angry and that made this part of the mission remarkably uncomfortable, but instead, you choose to focus on Anton's lumbering breathing through the screen of your phone. His large eyes hooded and locked onto your breasts, still very much covered by your white lace bra.

Although he cannot see anything besides cleavage, Anton reckons he could cum just from this. That's how bad he needs you, that's how bad he yearns for your soft, grounding presence to be near him.

But your phone chimes. And just as Anton's jaw locks, you exclaim, "Babe, I have to go-"

"What?" The frown on his face is astounding, but you're already propping your phone up to pull up the strings of your dress.

His protests fall on deaf ears.

You could not very well tell him that you have already touched down in Korea. You couldn't tell him the unrecognizable bathroom stall was a sterile cubicle in the international airport. You couldn't tell him that you were closer than he thought.

"My movie is gonna start soon,"

His shoulders visibly deflate and your heart pounds faster in your chest.

"Skip it,"

"I'll call later okay?"

"Skip the movie."

"I love you,"

When you abruptly ended the call, Anton stared at his screen until the dimness turned to black, with only one question permeating through his restless mind.

'Do you?'

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"You say you hear me," Sohee's voice reaches the rafters as the group of boys leave the gym. "You hear me, but do you feel me?"

"Gross," Anton mumbles, leaving Sohee behind.

"It's a simple question," The older boy continues, "at what point does water become soup?"

"When any reasonable amount of seasoning is added," pipes up Shotaro, adjusting the straps of his work out bag along his shoulder.

"Don't encourage him," Eunseok grumbles as they all walk out into the cool night air.

Anton's gaze is still lowered to the floor, but his breath stutters momentarily at the sudden rush of the open air.

"So salt water can be considered soup?" Sohee scoffs, "That's what you're telling me right now?" The group groans in unison, all beginning to walk like a hive mind to the nearest restaurant. All except Anton, who is quieter than usual, whose only plans for the evening consist of wallowing in self-pity.

"Hey, um, I'm just gonna go home," he says, causing the group of boys to stop in their tracks. Anton evade their curious, worried gazes.

"Not when you look like you're about kill yourself-" Shotaro says, attempting to step closer to Anton, but only frowning when the youngest takes a step back.

"That's okay," he attempts to reassure his friends, "There's a beat thats been..." Anton does vague hand gestures to the side of his head, "I wanna go work,"

He was already walking away, head bowed, and headphones pushed over his head, walking into the night before his friends could even get a word in...

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

He could not describe his feelings as Jealousy. That somehow felt like to tame a word to describe the flurry of emotions hanging so heavily on Anton's face as he pushes the password into the door's keypad, before kicking his shoes off at the door.

Anger was certainly a part of it. The large monolith of emotions threating to burst right through him. He felt unpleasantly overstimulated, even in the silence of the apartment. He felt like anything and everything was threatening to have him burst at the seams, his emotions running along the rim of his usually calm and collected state of mind, ready to spill over and make a dreaded mess everywhere.

Anton's only plans for the night had been to lock himself in his dorm room, perhaps crying, perhaps screaming, perhaps knocking himself out for a couple hours with his prescription sleeping pills. Anything to make this horrific strain on his heart disappeared.

The baggy clothes he is accustomed to wearing somehow appear bigger and sloppier as he lumbers his way deeper into the apartment, heart sinking the more steps he takes.

"Oh look,"

Cold, piercing phantom pain zings through his heart, kickstarting every dormant sleepy cell in his body.

"A dinosaur,"

Anton thinks that he couldn't even move if he wanted to. His socks are glued to the threshold, watching you, or perhaps an apparition of you, laying lazily on his bed.

His bed.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, and you watch with furrowed brows as Anton brings his two hands up to his face. You immediately push yourself off the bed when he begins to slap lightly at his cheeks, whispering incoherently about asylums and potentially getting a contact high.

His cheeks are already bright red when you stumble your way in front of him.

“Woah, Big boy,” your hands are on his wrist, effectively stopping Anton from reddening the skin any further.

He can feel you. He can feel the softness of your palms struggling to enclose around his large wrists.

“This is real,” he whispers, watching with wide, doe eyes as a smirk curls at the end of your lips. Before you can reply in whatever witty or snarky remark you had cooked up, Anton was already bending his head until his lips were crashing down to yours.

He very surprisingly, very uncharacteristically pours his strength into the kiss until you were stumbling back rather clumsily into his room.

Anton crumbles into a flurry moans and groans as he slips his tongue inside your mouth, melting into a whimpering puddle when your tongue brushes against his. “B-But when?” he breathes out before reattaching his lips to yours, letting his hands roam unabashedly over every part of your body it can find.

The infuriating need to breathe causes him to pull apart from you once again, but he never strays too far. Anton’s fingers dig into your sides until he's pulling your dress over your head. He wishes to capture every single inch of your exposed body to memory. The way you look up at him with a light, relieved smile curling at the sides of your puffy, red lips.

You're so much shorter than him, and it sends his brain into a mindless, state of lust. He loves how big he feels when you two are together, in the flesh with no digital box separating the two of you.

“H-How?” He breathes out, noting immediate that you are in the same white lace bra from your earlier phone call.

There is a cheeky smile on your face when you pull his oversized shirt over his head, all while he stares you down as if you hung the moon.

“I always keep my promises, Ant,”

His body betrays him with a rough shiver and he groans as you push him onto his bed, discarding his shirt behind you. As you prowl your way on top of him, Ant throws his head back into the sheets, nearly hyperventilating at the sight of you straddling his hips. You lift your torso, immediately discarding your bra, and Anton’s hand flies to cup your breasts. This, he immediately decides, is what heaven looks like.

“Fuck, you're so fucking pretty, you know that?” Anton rarely ever swore, so to hear the crass words coated in his airy, breathless voice is enough to have you moaning into the air, arching your back as you push his face into your chest while you press your core down onto his irresistible bulge.

“Oh God, Anton.”

“Missed you so much,’ he whines, before enclosing his mouth around your nipple, almost instinctively pushing his hips up to meet your desperate grinding. You were quite literally humping like maddened adolescents brimming with too many hormones to know what to do with.

When Anton feels his cock twitching in his pants, he immediately pulls away.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, “I need to be inside of you,” he admits gravely, already getting up to switch places until you were underneath his large and lumbering frame, “I don't think I'll last long,” Another grave admittance. He pushes his hand into his sweatpants, and you watch, mesmerized as he reveals his large, aching cock absolutely leaking precum.

“I'm definitely not gonna last long,” you reassure before eagerly opening your restless legs, “We're gonna cum together, yeah?” Anton squeezes his eyes shut before squeezing the base of his twitching dick. All while you slip your own underwear down.

“Yeah,” he agreed before positioning his cock at your weeping enterance.

You both watch mesmerized as his cock begins to stretch the tight walls of your soaked cunt. The stretch, immediately causing a whimper to slip out of your mouth as you throw your head back into the pillows. You're clenching around him, while Anton coaxes himself into you with shallow thrusts. The rutting being just enough to spill a wave of pleasure over the both of you. He watches you moan with wide, pained eyes.

“I know, baby-” He whisper, “You're doing so good for me, you know that?”

“Fuck, you're so big,” is all you're able to say, effectively causing his hips to stutter.

“F-Fuck I'm not gonna last long-”

Instead of repeating your response, you bring your hips up to meet Anton's thrusts effectively, taking him deeper and deeper until he was fucking you with little to no restraint.

“Oh God,” you whisper, as Anton clumsily brings a hand up to squeeze and pinch at your nipples. Not even a minute later and you're both sitting in the crest of your respective orgasms, looking deep into each other's eyes as if you were communicating that fact. Anton nods, completely dazed.

“Close,” he whimpers, “I'm so fucking close,”

Anton bends his head, spitting directly onto your clit. The sight has your hips stuttering, as the first signs of your orgasm warms your lower abdomen.

“F-Fuck, Ant- I'm-”

The moment his hand travels to rub dizzying wet circles on your clit, you crash into your orgasm.

“Oh fuck- oh fuck-” He fights to keep his eyes open but your squeezing him so hard and Anton can't help but cum directly inside of you. Both your lips are hanging open as your boyfriend attempts to fuck every last drop of his seed into you. You're both releasing months worth of frustration.

The frustration of not being near one another. Of relying on a device to keep your relationship afloat. It all comes crashing down until Anton's is thoughtlessly collapsing on top of you - the weight of a giant landing your front, with his hand playing lazily, wiyh your breasts as you both fight to catch your breathe.

Despite the obvious discomfort, the very last thing you think of doing is pushing him away. Instead, you cradle him closer, raking your fingers into his hair while his eyes flutter shut.

All is quiet, and you vaguely believe Anton may have fallen asleep, but his voice is wide awake as he says, “I thought you were cheating on me.”

You remain quiet, hoping the soft petting on his wild curls was reply enough.

“I'm never letting you go back, okay?”

Your eyes are heavy as you continue to smooothe down his hair, and you whisper, “Okay”.

♡♡♡

[tddyhyck]

golden boy (l.jn)

pairings ⇢ bf!jeno x afab!reader (other dreamies mentioned)

word count ⇢ 4.9k

synopsis ⇢ jeno is your sweet lovely attentive boyfriend who takes care of you publicly and privately

warnings ⇢ 18+, smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, softish!dom jeno, spit, crying, big thick dick jeno, fingering, throat fucking/blowjobs, overstimulation (reader cums a lot), fingering, semi-public (ig they’re in a car), cum eating, reader has a wap, use of slut, cum eating, teasing, overuse of the word pretty and baby (lemme know if i missed any)

playlist ⇢ skin _ mac miller / love between _ kali uchis / sanctuary _ joji

masterlist

The music was too loud and the room smelled heavily of weed. You were thankful for the hand dancing under your large jacket from the small of your back to your belt loops when the crowd got too pushy. Also thankful for the large arm that pushed people out of the way as you tried to break through the crowd. Finally out of the middle of what could be compared to a mosh pit you sighed, turning to pull the strong protective arms to you and out the back door.

Your fingers squeezed over the leather that covered his bicep as you pulled him to the patio finding your friends around the fire pit. You felt like you were floating instead of walking over to them but that was probably from smoking earlier. Your grip on Jeno’s arm loosened as you finally made it to your friends.

“You survived!” Renjun cheered from his spot on the ground in front of Chenle who was tucked into himself to keep warm. You laughed while Jeno sat back in his chair before pulling you onto his lap and wrapping a large blanket around you both.

You curled yourself into your boyfriend. His large warm arms engulfed you as Mark was playing guitar while everyone sang along. This was the best part about going to parties. You didn’t care for the bad playlist on repeat or the dancing or even really the drinking. But sitting around a warm fire with some of your closest friends and random stragglers while listening to music was so comfortable.

Your boyfriend keeping you warm was also a big bonus, and he looked so good tonight. Black jeans with a tight black shirt tucked in under a leather jacket. You had sat on his bathroom counter earlier and styled his hair slicking it back away from his face but leaving a few strands to fall over his forehead.

He stood in front of your parted legs, torso bare, and towel hanging low on his hips while he played with a string on your shorts. He looked directly at you, never shy about you noticing his staring.

You contemplated keeping him between your legs and pulling the towel from his waist and having him fuck you against the counter but you decided against it. Somewhat of a double edge sword because you could feel your panties soaking every time you peeked over at him.

His attentiveness didn’t help; it only made you want him more. The way he went out of his way for you. When he poured and held your cup so you didn’t have to worry about it or when he led you to the bathroom, waiting politely outside before leading you back out. You stared at his hands when he pushed some guy away from falling into you. You thought about how good it would feel to have them shoved in your mouth or in your cunt or even wrapped around your throat.

You could feel your cheeks heating while you pressed your thighs together and pushed yourself back into Jeno’s lap. He rubbed soothing circles on your hip before gripping it to keep you from moving. You leaned your head back falling into his neck, lips grazing his soft skin.

“You good?” he whispered. You nodded looking up at him reaching a hand up to push the loose strands away from tickling his eyebrow. You stayed like that feeling his warmth and how his chest vibrates when he laughed at something stupid Jaemin would say between songs. his leg moved slightly up and down as he tapped his foot to the rhythm you didn’t even know what song Mark was playing. Only focused on the pretty boy surrounding you. He glanced down at you only to find you already staring back.

“Hi,” you whispered. Chenle was scolding Jisung for getting the lyrics to some song wrong.

“Hi.” he breathed out. You brought your hand to his chest playing with the necklace you let him borrow, fingers tugging slightly at his collar. Your mind drifted to it dangling over you while he fucked deep into your cunt.

“Need you,” you mumbled, staring up at him with innocent doe eyes. His hand grazed from your hip to slip under your jacket and shirt to rest on your waist.

“Let's go?” he whispered, smiling down at you lazily.

“But I don’t wanna go yet,” you admitted with a pout, eyes trailing down his jaw to his chest.

“I’m not fucking you while our friends sing kumbaya, c'mon,” he says making you giggle while he lifts you easily before turning and folding the blanket and laying it in the chair.

“We’re heading out.” he says, followed by various “noooo” and “aww.”

“You can’t leave already, it's only like 11.” haechan pouts from across the fire.

“Well, we are,” Jeno responds dryly. You hit him lightly on the stomach.

“They have to leave so Jeno can fuck y/n’s brains out,” Jaemin smirks. You flip him off and roll your eyes in response.

“How’s it going for you? Hasn’t it been 3, nope, 4 months now?” Jeno says, grabbing your bag and your hand pulling you away from your friends to the back gate.

“Damn,” you can hear Haechan and Renjun chorus. You know Jaemin won’t hear the end of this and it makes you laugh. Jeno laces his fingers in yours as you cross the patio before stepping into the grass. It's still soft and slightly muddy from the rain the previous day. He reaches around you gripping your waist to lift you slightly off the ground.

“I can walk, you know,” you say, rolling your eyes, but you're blushing as he holds you effortlessly.

“I don’t want you to get your pretty feet muddy,” he replies, unlocking the back gate and slipping through before closing it back. The front yard is far worse than the back; some kids are passed out against the front porch, a couple is fighting and some boys are playing tag. You grip Jeno’s shoulders while he leads you through the mushy grass and to the sidewalk. placing you down, hand finding its way back to yours.

“You look so fucking hot tonight,” you whine when you're far enough away from the house. He just smirks, pulling you close to him. It only made you crazier because he knew he was hot and not in an arrogant way but in a sexy confident way.

“It's because my girlfriend styled me tonight.” you laughed hearing his keys jingle before clicking to unlock the car.

“And she lets you go out like this when girls like me are drooling over you.” you look up at him as he presses you to the car door. His leg pushes yours apart before pressing against you.

“She doesn’t know how much I like it when girls like you are drooling over me.” he leans down kissing your neck and snaking his hand around your waist. Pulling you away from the car and opening the door in one motion. He leans you down into the passenger seat letting you settle while he sits your bag at your feet before grabbing the seatbelt and fastening it for you.

He was always so attentive to you; he did all the things that were so easy and mundane to you. Opening the door for you, combing your hair, tying your shoes. The driver's side opened before he got in starting the car while you fiddled with your phone to put on music.

“You can’t put on a sex playlist yet.” he huffed, bringing his hands to the wheel. You laughed, turning up the volume before leaning back in your seat. His hand found its way to your thigh before he pulled onto the street.

You stared at him one hand on the wheel and the other on you. He puffed air out his mouth making the strand of hair dance on his forehead. You hadn’t realized your legs were spreading as you watched the way his jaw tightened when he met a red light. He looked over at you.

“You look like I’ve already made you cum,” he smirked, tilting his head. He brought his fingers to your core, dancing lightly over your heat making you sigh.

“You’re so mean,” you say when he pressed the gas again. “You can’t touch me, we still have like 10 more minutes in the car.” he laughed, adding more pressure to your clit.

He continued like that and it felt like you hit every single stoplight only prolonging your trip which made your head spin. You were grinding against his hand while you gripped his forearm.

“If you don’t fucking pull over.” you whimpered, chest rising and falling swiftly.

“You can’t wait for 7 more minutes.” he teased, bringing his hand away before slapping it down, making you jerk. He just laughed at you and it made your tummy flip. you loved this side of him, your sweet adoring boyfriend taunting you. His familiar crescent eyes were replaced with a cocked brow and a lazy smirk.

“How about this,” he offered, bringing his fingers to your button. “I make you cum now with my fingers,” pausing while he unbuttoned your pants. “and then when we get back I’ll make you cum on my tongue,” pausing again to tug the zipper down. “and then I’ll fill up your pretty pussy.” You nodded aggressively when his fingers made contact with your wet panties.

“You’re so wet. All because I wore a leather jacket? So pathetic,” you whined again blushing at his words. He dipped his calloused fingers below the waistband ghosting over your clit. His fingers glided through your folds collecting the wetness before bringing his hands out of your pants and to his lips sucking your taste off of them. You stared at him with your lip between your teeth when he gathered his saliva on his fingers before bringing it back to you.

You don’t know what came over you when you grabbed his sleeve making his eyebrows furrow until you shoved his spit-covered fingers in your mouth. He groaned from his seat while you swirl your tongue over his digits. He mumbled something under his breath, pressing his head to the seat, meeting another red light before looking over at you.

You could still taste yourself on his fingers before you pulled them from your mouth spit connecting to your lips. He stared at you before moving his hand back between your legs pushing your panties to the side before pressing against your clit. You whimpered bringing a hand to cover your mouth when his fingers started going in fast circles.

“Fuck,” your boyfriend hissed when a honk interrupted him, focusing his attention back on the road but not neglecting your cunt. You felt so embarrassed what if the people behind you knew your boyfriend had his hand in your pants. You didn’t really care when his fingers hit all the right spots that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

You could hear the squelch between your legs over the music and your breathing. You tried to keep your eyes open to see how close you were to Jeno’s apartment but the pleasure had your eyes closing on their own. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach tightening making your fingers grip his arm tighter. He always knew you were close when your nails dug crescents into his skin.

“You’re gonna cum, baby?” he lilted. you nodded teeth digging into your bottom lip. “What if they see you?” he asked, making your eyes fly open to see a car driving steadily beside you. “You'd probably like that, wouldn’t you? such a little slut.” You whined back arching off the seat as you cum feeling yourself gush in your panties.

He doesn’t stop his fingers from pushing you deeper into a space between pleasure and pain before he finally pulls his fingers away. Glancing over at your heaving chest when he brings his fingers to his mouth with a grin.

“Taste so sweet for me baby,” he says nonchalantly, reaching over to zip your pants and button them back. Hand palming at your thigh while your body stays buzzing still coming down from your high. You feel stupid and you haven’t even seen his cock. You didn’t realize you were already on his street until he pulled into his parking spot.

He reaches over unbuckling your seatbelt and his own before grabbing your chin and pressing his lips to yours. He pulls away too quickly but kisses the side of your mouth.

“Do you need me to carry you,” he whispers against your mouth. You whimper, shaking your head and reaching for the door before he grabs your wrist stopping you. He gets out of the car quickly before jogging over to your side, opening the door, and holding out a hand to you. He helps you out before reaching down to grab your bag. He fiddles with his keys in his hand as you approach his front door.

“Can I stay over?” you question when he opens the door. He laughs nodding while he sits your bag down.

“you never have to ask,” he says, bending down to untie your shoes and looking up at you curiously. You try not to stare at the sparkles in his eyes. He looks so pretty at this angle. He places your hand on his shoulder before gripping your ankle and removing one shoe and then the next.

“I know but I’m polite.” he grins at you before rising from the ground to stand over you.

“You’re very polite, baby,” he pets your head sweetly. “polite, kind, sweet, generous,” he extends, unzipping your jacket and slipping it off your bare shoulders to hang in his closet. “pretty, funny, sexy, mine,” he continues and it makes you blush. You had never been with someone like him.

“c’mere.” he pulls you into him and down the hall. Your head is pressed into his neck as you waddle with him. You giggle into him at how silly you both must look. Thankfully, Jaemin had stayed at the party so he wouldn’t see both of you like this. But Jeno never cared about how people saw him when he was with you. He didn’t care if people thought he was a simp or whipped for you he took pride in that. being yours.

He closes his door once you're both in his room, pulling you to his bed before sitting down the light from his lamp illuminating his cheekbones. Hands finding your waist when you sit on his lap without hesitation. He reaches up to brush your hair behind your ears, hands slipping down to your cheeks bringing your face to his.

You melt against his lips so soft and warm and so Jeno. You grip his jacket, the leather cool in your hands. His tongue slips into your mouth; he tastes like cherry soda. You grind down against him lightly feeling his cock pressing against your core. You whimper into his mouth at the slightest friction. He’s swallowing all the sounds you make moving his hands to your hips to help you drag against him. Your hands roam down to unclasp his belt, fingers fumbling.

“needy baby,” he smirks against your lips before leaning to press kisses against your neck. His lips distract you from getting the buckle undone, making you whine in frustration. He smiles into your neck reaching down to unclasp his belt easily.

“you’re distracting me,” you say before finally unbuttoning his jeans. He huffs out a warm laugh against your neck. He leans back onto his elbows watching you curiously as you unzip his jeans and tug at the waistband of his boxers. He shakes his head before grabbing your wrists and bringing them to your sides.

“don’t you remember my plan, baby?” he looks up at you quizzically.

“Can I add to the plan?”

“what do you want to add?” he cocks his eyebrow at you already knowing what you are going to ask.

“Can I just-“ you pause suddenly shy. He nods his head for you to continue. “want you in my mouth.”

“How bad do you want it?” you whine wiggling over him in embarrassment. You know you have to beg but it doesn’t make your face any less red.

“So bad.” you glance up at him wishing that was enough. He squeezes your wrist. “want it so bad. Can you just fuck my mouth? I've been thinking about it all night. You over me with your pretty hair and jacket and your cock down my throat.” you don’t realize but you're rambling.

“I guess I can add to the plan then since you want it so bad.” he loosens his grip on your wrists rubbing over the skin soothingly. “Let me do this first though, okay, baby?” you nod before you even know what he’s doing. He’s tugging your shirt off before his large hands grope at your tits making you dizzy.

“I love when I can convince you not to wear a bra,” he whispers against your skin before peppering kisses from your neck to your collarbone. You sigh, relaxing into his familiar touch. His tongue licking your chest before taking your nipple into his mouth making you whimper. You grip the nape of his neck tugging lightly at his gelled hair. His mouth vibrates around your nipple so you repeat the action tugging harder.

He releases your nipple with a pop before diving into the other. You hadn’t realized you were grinding against him until one of his arms reached around your back stopping your movements. you whine your nails scraping his neck. His tongue slides down at the same time he’s pushing you up to stand. Leaning forward when you stand fully in front of him you feel his tongue slide over your tummy kissing lightly at the skin. His tongue teases at your belly button nipping lightly against the soft skin before his fingers tickle at your sides lightly making you squirm.

He pulls away unbuttoning your pants for a second time that night. Sliding them over your hips and to your ankles he holds out a hand for you to grab while you step out kicking them behind you. He leans in again teeth nipping at the skin above your panties, his hands gripping your ass pulling at the cheeks while you grab his broad shoulders.

He looks up at you, his eyes glinting between adoration and mischief. He finally tugs at your panties, pulling them down your legs leaving you completely bare in front of him. There was no embarrassment or anxiety or worrying he might see something he didn’t like because he liked it all.

“You’re so pretty.” he says not directly to you but just out loud. “all mine.” he grips your cheeks again, caressing the skin. “Lay down,” he instructs standing up in front of you and turning you both around so you’re pressed to the bed.

“Want your pretty head here,” he points at the edge. You nod sitting on the bed and turning before laying back, neck hitting the edge of the mattress and your head hanging off. The view of your boyfriend towering over you gripping his cock through his underwear. He was still completely clothed while you were naked. It made you press your thighs together hoping he wouldn’t see. But when you hear him scoff you know he noticed.

“can’t wait, can you?” he taunts caressing your cheek with one hand and pulling his cock from his boxers with the other. Your mouth is already watering. You grip at his thighs opening your mouth eagerly and looking up at him. His hand smoothed over your cheek before taping his cock against your chin. Feeling his heavy length on your lip before he presses into your mouth. You lose contact with his eyes as your mouth fills up so you close them instead, relishing in the fullness.

He groans deeply when you swallow around him. He grabs the sides of your face before slowly pulling out. Spit is already collecting on the sides of your lips as he fucks back into your mouth. You whine when the head of his cock touches the back of your throat making your eyes water.

“fuck,” he hisses quickening his pace but only slightly. You move your hands up to grip his belt loops pulling him closer making his hips hit your chin. He stays there for a minute before pulling out letting you breathe only for a second before you pull him back to you.

He watched your throat bulge with each thrust into you watching his dick fill your throat. He pressed his fingers against your neck feeling his cock gliding inside and it had his eyes rolling back.

Your brain is empty, completely entrapped in him and the feeling of him. Your lips are starting to hurt as he stretches your mouth like he’s stretching your pussy. You didn’t realize you were still rubbing your thighs together wanting to be relieved of the pressure you felt at your core.

His hands start creeping down your body teasing you with pinches and flicking at your nipples making you jerk off the bed but his cock stays steadily fucking your mouth. You feel him grip the tops of your thighs spreading your legs harshly making you cough around him. He just grunts at the tightness around him and you feel his fingers ghosting over your pussy. You only grip his belt loops tighter fingers raw where the fabric digs into the skin.

“So wet,” he says, fingers dipping between your core making your toes curl. “I wish you could see yourself, fuck baby.” he groans. You whine around him when he pushes two fingers into you. Spreading your legs as far as you can as he matches his thrusts into your mouth with his fingers inside of you curling them just right bringing you closer to the edge.

“So pretty like this, all spread out and open for me. Pretty little mouth taking me so well, like a good little slut” he says pushing his cock deep down your throat. All you can do is cry, tears and spit dripping into your hair. “Are you gonna cum like this baby? I bet you could cum even if I didn't touch you. Just fucking that little mouth of yours would make you cum, huh, baby?” you whimper because he’s probably right but that’s something for you to store in your mind for later.

“I'm gonna change up the plan, baby,” he said, voice growing deeper. He pulled out of your mouth letting you catch your breath as he leaned over you fully, his spit-soaked cock resting heavily against your cheek. Your chest heaved and he sped up his fingers. His other hand pressed into your lower stomach keeping you in place.

“Can hear how wet you are,” he taunted. He was right. You could hear the loud squelch with each swift thrust and you could feel yourself tightening before your release.

“Jeno,” you whined out from below. This only made him go faster.

“oh my fuc-“ you moan before being cut off by your orgasm hitting you suddenly. Legs shaking trying to close but he wouldn’t let you. You could feel the wetness dribbling out of your pussy and onto your thighs as your mouth hung open with no sounds coming out.

“good girl,” he says, slowing down before pulling out with a slap against your clit making you shake harder. “So messy,” he teases, pulling away before kneeling in front of you. You roll onto your stomach before he brushes your hair away from your face looking into your wet eyes, swiping at the drying spit on your cheeks.

“So good,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your lips and reaching around you to pull you up from the edge of the bed.

“no,” you say when he goes to take off his jacket. He looks at you confused before realization washes over his features.

“You really like this jacket,” he says, drawing out the words with a smile. You nod shyly before laying back on the pillows and reaching up for him.

“Like it a lot. Makes you look like a sexy mean bad boy,” you say looking up at him as he walks around the bed before lifting his knee and pressing into the sheets.

“Do you want me to be a mean bad boy?” he tilts his head above you staring at you like he would eat you alive. He scoots closer to you, legs on either side of yours.

“mmm,” you hmm thinking for a second. He grips your thighs pressing them back before looking down at your dripping cunt. “only sometimes.” you confirm.

“Sometimes?” he questions gripping his length before guiding it between your folds drawing your attention from his face to between your legs. “elaborate.”

“like when,” your eyes flutter each time his cock pressed against your clit. He stops to get you to focus on his question. “when you, when -fuck- when you tease me and-“ you pause looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“And what?” he taunts further by pressing the tip of his cock into you. Your head lulls back against the pillows.

“And when you call me names,” you finish with a moan when he fully pressed into you. His cock fills you up fully, making your eyes roll back.

“What names?” he questions thrusting into you deeply. You almost want to ask him to shut up because he’s making your head spin. But he looks so hot above you, necklace dangling like you imagined almost hypnotizing you.

“When you,” you pause as he presses into the warm bundle of nerves. “call me,” you whine again as he continues to rub at the spot that has your toes curling. “pretty slut,” you finally finish with a huff.

He laughs at you tweaking your nipples and it makes you go crazy. He's filling you up so perfectly making you moan loudly gripping his leather sleeves. His hair is all disheveled now, somehow even hotter than when it was styled, more fringe fell over his forehead and bounced with each thrust into your tight heat. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he stared between your legs watching his fat cock sink into your pussy.

“So fucking tight for me.” he groans. “How does a pretty slut like you stay so tight, huh?” you feel tears brimming your eyes again shaking your head against the pillows. Everything feels so intense so full, so intense, so much pleasure.

“Gonna cum, Jen,” you whimper. Reaching for his hand before he intertwined your fingers and stared into your eyes.

“You gonna cum on my cock? Slutty little pussy takes me so well,” he’s hoarse and his words are going straight between your legs.

“Can I,” you’re out of breath, eyes pleading into his.

“cum, baby,” he says tenderly. You throw your head back and whine his name as your walls flutter around him. He doesn’t let up tightening his grip on your thigh and hand, thrusting into you just as hard.

“You squeeze me so tight, fuck,” he groans watching a white ring of your cum form around his length. You feel your legs trying to close around him to push him away but he stays overstimulating you as more tears tumble down your cheeks. He moves his hand from your thigh to press slow circles on your clit building you up again. “So wet. So fucking wet.”

“S’much,” you whine.

“One more baby you can do it. Little more baby just a little more,” he peeks up at you and you nod. “Gonna fill up your pretty pussy.” His thrusts are sloppier as he continues flicking your clit. He leans down pressing his lips against you, a stark contrast between his harsh thrusts and soft lips. Tongue licking into your mouth as you sucked on the wet muscle.

“Want it,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. He pushes into you and warm white fills you up. You cum again clenching around him milking his cock as he continues his thrusts.

“fuck.” he groans into your shoulder before finally slowing his movements. You stay like that, feeling him soften inside of you as you both catch your breath. He kisses your neck before leaning back and pulling out of you spreading your legs to watch his cum drip out of your fluttering hole.

He watches as you reach your hand between your legs collecting your cum and his before bringing it to your mouth swirling your tongue around your digits tasting yourself and him.

“Don’t do that or I’ll have to fuck you again,” he warns. You roll your eyes giggling around your fingers before pulling them from your lips. “you’re so,” he doesn’t finish leaning back over you, kissing you sweetly.

“So what?” you ask when he pulls away getting off the bed. You watch him cross the room to his bathroom. You can hear him shuffling around and water running before he comes back warm washcloth in hand and in only his boxers. You want to pout at the loss of his outfit but you can’t when his chest is right in front of you.

“all of the above,” he responds, gripping your ankle and pulling you to the edge of the bed before using the cloth to clean you gently.

“You should wear a leather jacket more often.”

tysm for reading!! i’m thinking of making this a series (like bf jeno being lovely and sweet and sexy) anyways lemme know if ur into it hehe stay safe ʕᵔ ᴥ ᵔʔ

[saturnsorbits]

Thirst Trap: Caught Desperate

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Smut, Prone Bone, Spanking, Pictures - Consensual. Word Count: 4k.

Summary: Read the Intro -> Here.

A/N: Idek what the fuck this is. I've genuinely forgotten how to write - smut especially apparently.

-> Part of the 'Thirst Trap' Collab.

Make sure to check out the other incredibly talented authors through the link above and don’t forget to leave a nice comment and reblog if you liked their work!

The first thing he feels is panic.

His phone won't stop. It vibrates against his palm, stirring up a numbness that radiates through his callouses as the screen flickers. The near constant updates create a blur he can't follow, the dull flashes summoning a sharp edge to the headache that has already started to press at the sides of his skull.

Fuck. He sighs, digs a knuckle into the corner of his eye and brackets his hand across his forehead. His PR team might actually murder him for this one.

Prodding at his screen, he manages to slow the endless roll of his feed. The replies are positive, mostly. His fanbase isn't exactly small and, according to the last PR meeting he was forced to attend, they were also predominately women. Although, looking at his phone now, he'd say the divide was probably about 50:50.

Curiosity getting the best of him, he scrolls...

The first few replies he sees are simple enough: suggestive emoji's, notes of amusement, the odd heckle about the size of his cock. Then, there are the more fun ones: the ones calling him a slut, asking to give him more than just head or being up front with their solicitations.

Huffing out a breath, he unfurls, spreading out on the bed and stretching an arm up behind his head. His pants are still unbuckled and pulled to the broadest point of his hips, a casualty of his drunken state. Underneath, his cock presses against the denim – twitching with every mention of the things his fans plead to do to him.

He shouldn't.

He knows its wrong.

Knows that he shouldn't indulge himself.

He shouldn't be thinking about fucking his fist to the thought of an anonymous stranger drooling down his balls, his cock bulging from their cheek, holes stretched out around him as he rolls his hips searching for the thing inside of them that'll make them scream.

His hand cups his pec, broad palm circling gently until he can catch his nipple with each slow pass. It's surprising how quickly his cock catches on. He can feel it leaking, soaking through patches of his underwear as it begs to be released. Letting his hand slip down his body, he feels the tension shake in his abdomen. He's wound tight, muscles shivering even under his own touch as he sinks his hand into his jeans and finally, squeezes his cotton-clothed cock.

He should stop.

Fuck, he should just delete the tweet and get a glass of water.

… And maybe a cold shower.

Licking over his teeth, he's reluctant when he slips his hand back out of his jeans and slams it, somewhat sticky, against his sheets. His cock protests, throbbing with the new lack of friction after being granted so little. It makes it hard to focus, the rolling pit in his stomach, the pulsing of his body – even without his alcohol impairing his judgement, his desire pleads a strong case for him to simply submit.

Bakugo swallows and moves to swipe away from the possibly career-changing tweet on his screen, but the feed is faster than he is.

It isn't the message that catches his eye, not at first anyway. No. It's the username. Your username.

He clenches his jaw.

Immediately, you fill his senses. It had barely been a few hours since you'd had your arms wrapped around his neck, your bodies pressed together as you swayed on the dance floor. If he tried, he swears he'd still be able to feel the soft skin of your thigh grazing against his fingertips as his hand had found its way under the edge of your dress. Your perfume had been intoxicating. A subtle mix of vanilla bean, sandalwood and your sweat had drifted from your collarbones and infested his senses, luring him right to the edge of what he'd known would get him into a whole heap of shit.

That was before he'd made that fucking post, of course.

Now, he was starting to wonder if taking you home would have been the right move all along.

His promises be damned.

Chewing at his lip, he lifts his thumb, revealing the message attached to your name. 'Thought you said you weren't that desperate, huh.' His stomach lurches.

The memories come quick then, fighting through the fog of too many whiskey's and regret.

He'd meant it as a joke, he really had, something to give him some pace, to make you think twice, think of the consequences – but he's never been good at managing his tone and at almost midnight even his belligerence had felt semi-formal. You'd been too close, too pretty, with the promise of a night he wouldn't be able to forget laced between your teeth and he'd... Well, he'd done what he does best.

He'd pushed you away.

Your eyes shine in the dull lights outside of the club, the yellowing tinge spilling from the surrounding lamps doing nothing to diminish how stunning you look. The alcohol has blown out your eyes, swallowing your iris' almost whole – although, he'd like to think he had a hand in how truly taken you look right now. His hand is on your waist, equal amounts keeping you close and at bay as you bat your eyelashes prettily at him and pout.

'C'mon...' You press close, hand searching the expanse of his chest. His heart thunders underneath, picking up whenever you near his pecs, so you slip a had over his shoulder and use his height to ease yourself up onto your tip-toes. 'You've practically had your hand up my skirt all night, what's stopping you now?' You chuckle, clicking your tongue against your back teeth.

Bakugo's snarl twists his features before he can stop it. He can feel the barb, feel the world curl on the back of his tongue before he can do anything to stop it. It tumbles from his mouth, but even despite his attempt to spit it out softly – hoping it won't hurt too much, your nose wrinkles.

'You really think I'm that desperate?'

It's like you've been slapped.

Your hands tense on his shoulders, feet falling back flat to the floor. Part of you knows he's just trying to get a rise out of you, but you're beyond sick of the back and forth. It's been months of this, of you getting close enough to taste him only for him to retreat at the last moment, usually with a snarled comment he doesn't mean, or some silly excuse to protect that softly-beating heart everyone swears he doesn't have. Sighing, you step back – the tap of your heels like gunshots on the pavement as you raise your bag from the crook of your arm and back onto your shoulder. 'Obviously not.'

Your distance reads like rejection, burns a hole in his pride and makes him prickle. He shakes his head and slips his phone from his pocket intent on ordering his own taxi, despite the fact he can barely make out the squiggles he hopes are words. 'Fuckin' knew I shouldn't have let Red bring you-.'

After that the memories grow hazy.

He remembers how you'd somehow smoothed over the hiccup in the conversation, laughing it off in all probability, but even then, you'd never quite come as close to him as before. He remembers your laugh. Remembers how the melody of it had ricocheted around his brain in the taxi ride home. He remembers missing your warmth. He remembers the flash of guilt, his half-hard cock and drunken brain at war. He remembers his phone, the screen a pale blue, glowing. He remembers, he remembers his thumb hovering over your name.

He remembers chickening out...

Fuck.

Evidently, he hadn't chickened out hard enough.

Clicking onto your page, he checks your replies to make sure he hasn't hallucinated your response, but before he can even begin to obsess over it – his phone pings in his hand.

It's a message. A real one. Not something filtered in through his socials. With shaking hands, he opens it and pauses.

He has your number saved under your first name.

Just your first name.

Not 'Sidekick''. Not your full title. Or what department you work in. You don't even have a stupid moniker. For fucks sake, he's called Kirishima 'Shitty Hair' in every single phone he's had since high school, and Todoroki has remained solely Todoroki – even despite the fact, both him and his father share the title.

He doesn't dwell on the reasoning.

Instead, he opens the message and is immediately confronted with a screenshot of his tweet. He cringes. Your reply is underneath it, racking up too many likes for his taste, and underneath that is your text.

You: 'You really are fucking desperate, aren't you?'

He waits, palms sweating, watching as three little dot appear and disappear and then, reappear again.

You: 'Can't even reply to me?'

You: 'You could at least turn your read receipts off. I can see you reading the messages.'

You: 'For fucks sake, Bakugo?'

His pulse quickens, thrumming strong and rhythmic under his skin as if to remind him what it is to be near you. The joints in his fingers have frozen, despite the energy rushing through his body demanding movement. Through the haze of his vision he sees you typing again.

You: 'Can we stop doing this now?'

Yes. Bakugo thinks. God, yes. The room spins as he cranes his neck down at his phone, eyes unfocused... His heart and cock war on, but now, the alcohol makes it far too easy for the tide to sway. Flexing his thumbs, he taps back a message before he can think better of it, before the noise of his life and expectation and the world outside can eat away at him again.

Bakugo: 'Please.'

Your reply takes a second this time, forcing the air in his lungs to crystallize; but before he can drum up too many doubts, there's your name again lighting up his screen.

You: Is that the great Dynamight saying please?

Bakugo: Fuck off.

You: Fuck off, or fuck you?

Bakugo's cock twitches in his jeans. He's so hard it's almost painful now, causing an ache to spread up the deep lines of his hips and radiating through his pelvis. Reaching down, he palms at himself again feeling the heft of his desire in his palm. He types back, one handed, the other already occupied.

Bakugo: Don't play with me. You know he'll kill the both of us.

You: I never did get to give you your birthday present.

Furrowing his brow, Bakugo is taps out a series of question marks – unimpressed with the idea of birthday cake when he had come to expect something a whole lot different, but before the thought can fully depress him – another message comes through.

It's a screenshot. The one this entire conversation began with – his own message glowing from his screen. Except this time, underneath is a message that makes his breath catch in a whole new way.

You: 'This offer for everyone, or just everyone who isn't me?'

Bakugo: You.

Bakugo: It was just for you.

Bakugo stills, his breath jammed in the back of his throat as his brain catches up with his fingers.

Fuck.

He shouldn't be doing this.

He should of just had a wank to all of the filth being sent from his fans. Even that would get him in less trouble than this. Part of him wants to back out, wants to claim a hack or come up with some other equally unbelievable and shitty lie so he can turn tail and run, but there's no way back now. He knows that much. His cock is hard and heavy between his thighs, his drunken mind too far from sober for him to see reason.

He types back.

You don't bother changing. You'd dressed to impress after all. Instead, you snatch a condom from your brothers stash tuck it into your bra and order a taxi, checking the address Bakugo had sent you three times before finally confirming the ride.

The journey is short and sweet, filled with anticipation and the soft jazz that trickles through the radio of the car. You've been waiting for this, grown tired of the will they won't they that had lead to this moment, but now it's here, you find yourself: nervous.

The car mounts the curb, almost sending you sprawling, then a tenner and a lift ride later, you're at his door.

He opens it before you knock looking a little more together, but still drunk. You can feel it too, the alcohol still flooding your system and making everything just a little easier. Still, nothing is as easy as coming together. You mouth drops open, an unspoken question lingering on your tongue and then, Bakugo is on you.

'C'mere.' Using one hand, he hooks it around your waist and tugs at you to him. Your bodies collide, palms coming up to rest against his chest as you peer up at him. He doesn't know how he's resisted you for so long, how he's kept true and stopped this. After all, looking at you now cradled in his arms, it is obvious this was nothing, but inevitable.

Your lips come together easily. The kiss is harsh, full of pent up tension and a longing that has broken you both. He nips at your bottom lip before you flick your tongue against his teeth, tasting him properly as he lets you in.

'Holy shit.' Panting, you claw at him – your hands are everywhere: at his buttons, his chest, wrapped in the chain circling his neck. He pays you back in kind grabbing at your hips, taking handfuls of you with an eagerness that radiates through his entire body.

With an unceremonious grunt, he bends at the knees, slipping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up against his waist. He pulls back a slither, blinking at you, his shoulders straining at he takes your entire weight with ease and presses you into the wall of his hallway. A wicked grin takes his lips as you squeak, arms and legs wrapping around him to cling on. 'Hang on.'

He kisses you again then, pressed to the wall, but before you can catch you're breath he's off. You make a stop at a small counter where he presses his clothed cock to your cunt, letting you feel just what you're getting yourself into and again at the wall outside of his bedroom. There he almost leaves your neck raw, biting and sucking, but never enough to leave too much of a mark.

You stumble into his bedroom still cradled in Bakugo's arms. There's sure to be bruises on your elbows, a symptom of attempting to peel him from his shirt while he careened through the doorway, but as your back hitting the bed and Bakugo hovering over you, you find it hard to care. Reaching into your bra, you slip out the condom with two fingers and present it to him by waving it under his nose.

Taking it with his teeth, he grins as you let out a sigh that settles in his bones. Beneath him, you look insatiable. Your eyes have blown out, the black of your iris' banishing whatever colour had once been there. The dress he'd been so anxious to get under all night is rumpled, the slit cast aside exposing the thickness of your thighs and a slither of cunt covered by a pair of soft-looking red lace. The bodice is low, the heaving of your chest apparent – your tits held high, pressed together and begging for his hands. Slipping a hand up your thigh, he brushes his fingers across the flesh and earns himself the most pretty of moans.

'I knew you'd break.' Lifting your leg, you kick out at him softly – the ball of your heel connecting with his shoulder. You perch on your elbows, eyes swollen, the pulse of your cunt matching the beating of your heart. It's been rough until now, a clash of teeth and nails, but its hard not to notice the bare desire you see splayed out in his eyes. It's mixed with carmine, a colour that barely covers what, if nurtured, could become love. 'Knew I'd have you.'

He grabs your ankle and pulls on reflex, yanking you down the bed. 'Did you?' Under his skin he feels feral. Something that's only made worse when you lick your lips and nod.

His restraint snaps. Grabbing at your hips, he kneads the fat there before flipping you over. You bounce, a scream escaping your throat, but he quickly transforms the sound into a moan with a harsh slap against your ass.

'Thought you wanted head?' You laugh, feeling your skin prickle under him. There's a rustle behind you, the tell tale sound of him shucking down his jeans and then, his fingers are pulling your underwear away from your cunt and exposing you to the air.

'You always this much of a brat?'

You wriggle and lift up your hips. 'You always this hard for me? Oh wait...' You chuckle. 'You are.'

A growl rumbles in his throat, but it's not anger he's feeling. Taking his cock in his hand, he gives himself a cursory pass – the stickiness of his own pre cum making it easy. His head rocks back on his shoulders. With a bottle of whiskey still coursing through his vein's he's more than sensitive, the simple passes of his hand having him ready to blow – God only knows what the feel of your cunt will do to him.

'C'mon... Fuck me, forget the condom – just -.' Reaching behind you, you attempt to grab at him – to pull him close, get him to touch, to taste.

Chuckling to himself, he bats your hand away easily. 'Nah-ah-ah. Don't think you deserve me raw, sweetheart. Only good girls get that.' He squeezes the base of his cock, stopping a premature end as he tears through the tinfoil of the condom and slips it on.

You go to whine, to kick your feet and protest him not giving into you, but you're not even given the chance.

The first thing you feel is impossibly full. The next is overwhelming pleasure. Bakugo hadn't wasted time prepping you and to be honest, you hadn't needed it. You're soaking, cunt dribbling greedily onto his mattress – like you haven't been waiting forever for this moment. You arc your back, one hand fisting his bed sheets as the other curls around the wrist he plants beside your head. The pace he's set is brutal, each thrust pushing deeper inside of you, taking you as he pleases as you cling on and submit to it.

'Where's the cheek now, huh?' He pants. Honestly, he's surprised he's not cum already. Your cunt milks him, squeezing him so deliciously that he doesn't think he'll ever find anyone better.

Then again, he know what they say about forbidden fruit.

''m sorry.' You moan, back curling as he fucks you harder. It's pathetic how he's barely given you anything and yet, you're already creaming around him. Your body begs for release, teetering you on the precipice of ecstasy as he uses you relentlessly.

'No your not...' Bakugo chokes out, teeth bared as he clings to the last threads of his control. Your tight now, too tight to not be close and if the way you're moaning and almost drooling onto his bed is anything to go by – he's not wrong. Leaning over you, he licks a thick stripe up between your shoulder blades before resting his lips by your ear. When he speaks is a growl, a command that comes from deep within his chest. 'Touch yourself... C'mon, show me how pretty you cum.'

You don't need telling twice. Forcing your arm beneath you, you draw quick, awkward circles on your clit and have to remind yourself to breathe. Your orgasm hits you like a train. Every muscle in your body tenses, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the high continues to roll through your body. It feels like a millennia until you come back again, until your limbs begin to feel under your own control and you become aware of Bakugo still frantically prolonging your high.

'Shit, shit, shit...' Pulling out, he ignores your protests before quickly rolling off the condom. It takes a singular pass of his fist before he cums, a grunt thrown from his chest as he releases himself over your ass. His mess is sticky, a pearlescent sheen that drips between your cheeks and onto your raw cunt – your clit still twitching.

In a moment of madness, he retrieves his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the scene. In it, only the edge of your dress can be seen, coupled with the most distant droplets of his spend as it decorates the skin of your thighs.

'Post it.' Craning over your shoulder, you hiss at the new soreness in your limbs as you roll onto your back. You tilt your head, signature mischief returning to your cheeks. 'Got to let those fan girls know you've already being taken care of...' You flash a smile. 'And I'd really hate to see your DM's right now.'

Against his better judgement, he tosses you his phone. 'Knock yourself out.'

It's almost six in the morning when you finally settle for bed. You'd gone another three rounds. Once in shower, over the vanity in the hallway and then, again in his bed and each time had seen both of you aching and sore and more than pleased with yourselves. You'd posted the picture and Bakugo's phone hadn't been quiet since – not that you minded. It wasn't like anyone could really tell what it was. The lighting was awful, the image blurred and you'd cropped it so there was no chance of anyone figuring out who you were.

Still, the idea of it stirs up something hot and heavy in your stomach.

You'd laid your claim now.

'I will never know how you're such a demon when you're brother's a God damn golden boy.' Bakugo's breathing has just about leveled out, you hand rising and falling in a more subtle rhythm where it lays on the center of his chest.

You wrinkle your nose. 'Can we not talk about my brother while I can still feel your cum dripping down my ass, please.'

Bakugo chufs, but relents. His thumb rubs soft circles in the skin of your shoulder, a gentle beckoning to sleep as both of you watch the sun rise and fill his bedroom window with a brilliant orange. 'Stay?' He kisses your forehead. 'I'll make you breakfast.'

Nuzzling into him, you're about to agree – mind already reeling at the possibilities of Bakugo's cooking and another round at a more respectable hour – but, all thoughts cease when Bakugo's phone pings with a message.

'If this is my fucking publicist you can explain yourself.' Bakugo tuts, but there's still a warmth in his smile that betrays his annoyance.

You giggle. 'Happy to.'

Flipping over his phone in his hand, Bakugo's mouth drops open when the screen glows to light his face.

There's only one message on the screen.

And it isn't from his publicist.

Shitty Hair: 'Really dude, my fucking sister?'

[yerrmar]

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬

!Fem! reader child of Persephone x Luke Castellan

Summary: you’re just like your mother a loyal sweetheart who’s feared by her enemies; he’s just like Hades completely mesmerised.

warnings: The reader can get quite dark when she’s angry, and Luke is his lovely self, swearing, mentions of: war, violence, killing, and blood.

notes: this is my first time writing on here and writing like this so sorry if it’s shitty im not that good at writing, I just loved this idea and wanted to write it so bad because like i don’t know how to ask someone else to write it if you get what i mean😫

You have a heart made of roses and thorns, beautiful to look at, but if you get too close be careful not to get pricked.

That’s what people at camp liked to do anyway, just look at you. They didn’t want to hear you speak. You are just a pretty face that would never get old. Endlessly, boys and girls plucked petals from your beautiful rose garden, gently placing them into their hands before tearing them apart; right in front of your face. All anyone thought of you for was your beauty, not your fighting skills, or your love for flowers, and not how wicked your mind could be.

It wasn’t something you made people aware of. Why would you? Why would you ever want people to know about your deep loathing for this stupid camp and the Gods that ruled over the earth? They’re pathetic-you hate them, the way they feed off of their children’s desperate cries to be loved, and how they would start wars just because they can.

You hate their children too, for wanting to be like them. For desiring history to continuously be repeated. Watching them never take the fucking hint that their parent has no interest in them. That’s pathetic. Every single thing in this world is pathetic; at least it makes you laugh.

Your mother, on the other hand, isn't like them. She could never be like them. She gives a fuck about you, you didn’t even need to beg her for a reply. There was no wonder Chiron tells you that you are the exact double of her, you are a seed that dispersed from her golden rose.

You always dreamed of a love like Persephone’s and Hades-their love runs deeper than the Mariana Trench. Their loyalty put all the gods to shame. I mean, yes it was bad that he kidnapped her you wouldn’t dismiss that, it was just how they found so much love for each other. But a hard truth that you needed to realise was that the only thing you could ever be loved for is your pretty face.

But you didn’t mind, it's easier to manipulate people when they can’t tear their stare away from your enchanting face. Though it makes you feel miserable most of the time; you just wish that someone would see you for everything you are.

That someone being Luke Castellan- unknowingly to you, he adores everything about you. He often observes how gentle you are when you’re tending to wounds, or taking care of your plants, he can’t help but smile at the motions. Your heart is a mystery to him, how can a person have that much love in their body and not even a pinch of darkness?

Everyone at Camp loves Luke, he's admired by all. He's also talented at hiding his true intentions and feelings.

You knew who the boy was. If you didn't you had probably only just joined camp half-blood. Luke Castellan, the best swordsman and a total heart-throb, you found the boy to be very attractive. You didn’t mean to stare at him during training, but you couldn't help it, everything about him made your stomach do flips. The only downside is that you two had never held an actual conversation before, always just quick hellos as you passed each other, even from that you were longing for him to just give you something more. Something better.

That was till one night, his mind had been racing with dark thoughts that he couldn’t shake. Then he saw you sitting on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge. Your feet are submerged in the freezing, pitch-black water. He wondered what you were doing up so late. As he got closer; the image of you became clearer. His eyes wandered over you. Usually, you had a flower sitting in your hair, but tonight you didn’t. Dried blood covered your knuckles; he could’ve sworn he saw a smirk on your face before he made himself known.

“Are you cold?”

You don't need to look at the person to know who it is. You've dreamed of his voice too often for it not to become familiar.

“No.” You replied, your voice as cold as the chilly air. Winter was arriving, and that's when you unconsciously became more closed off.

Luke frowned watching as your body trembled due to the freezing temperature, “Are you sure? You can borrow my jacket.”

His eyes still never left your swollen knuckles, curiosity almost getting the better of him. You groan, wanting to be left alone without being interrupted at least for just a minute, but everything around you seemed to be getting louder, and now here Luke was trying to start small talk.

If it was any other night you would've been happy to engage in conversation with him; tonight was not that night.

“I'm fine.” You snapped. Luke, strangely not taken aback by this action, placed his jacket around your shoulders anyway. And you didn't stop him.

Luke took a seat beside you, he wanted to ask about your bruised knuckles, and now he could see more clearly, he wanted to ask who caused that cut under your eye.

You knew exactly what he was thinking, it’s not like he was being discreet- you saw his eyes tracing over your hand, and how his jaw clenched from seeing your injury.

First, you tried to think of an excuse; you fell. But you couldn't help but want to tell him the truth, it was strange. “Just ask.”

Luke snapped his eyes to look at yours as you finally faced him. He tried to loom confused as if he didn't understand what you're talking about. “Ask what?”

“You know what, don't play dumb with me Castellan.” You scoffed. He loved how you read him like he was a book, if it was anyone else he would've attempted to kill them for reading him so well (it would be harder to hide), but you're different.

“Fine, you got me, princess. What happened to you're hand?” He chuckled.

You'll always stand up for yourself, no matter what. Nobody could ever make you doubt your worth.

So, when a boy from Apollo tried to make you look stupid in front of his friends, you snapped. Whilst you were practising archery, he came up behind you and placed his hand on your waist making you miss the target. He commented on how naive you are, and how you should accept his offer with private “lessons”.

Your fist collided with his nose, making a satisfying crack. You smirked at how he stumbled backwards, his face contorted into an unattractive expression. You would've laughed if it weren't for the judgemental looks you would have received.

People around you gasped, and some even cheered. The boy looked up at you in shock, his nose creating a pool of blood in his hands. “You bitch!” He hissed before lunging at you.

You didn’t have time to react when he slapped you, the sound echoed across the field. His ring got caught under your eye, causing a gash to appear. You held your burning face and snickered.

Finally, something interesting was happening in this shitty camp. You probably looked insane, but you didn’t care; you felt alive.

Your fist met with his face again, rekindling the connection that was once there. This time his whole body dropped to the ground, and you didn't stop there. You wondered how people felt about your pretty face when it was covered in blood.

People came to his rescue after seeing that you had no sign of stopping, even after he passed out. You ignored the disappointment on Chiron's face as he assessed the situation, with a smug expression and your head held high, you walked away.

Luke cursed himself for not being there, how he would kill to see you get angry like that, to watch you make people pay for being ignorant. Just imagining it made him grin. “How did it feel?” Luke spoke softly to you like if he spoke even just a bit louder, you'd shatter like glass.

You’re surprised by this question. His eyes stare deep into your soul-searching for his answer. He looked at you so deeply and intently that it made your cheeks burn. You didn't answer him, you just turned away and focused your attention on the ripples your legs made in the lake. He already knew how you felt, the way you explained the story to him, how you even laughed at one point. He knew that both of you shared the same anger; the same thirst for blood that came from the gods.

He reached out for your face. Gently, he placed his hand on your jaw turning you to face, his finger softly brushing your cheek. “You can trust me.”

His voice made you shudder, you'd never seen him treat someone so delicately. “Good.” She muttered.

“What?” He asked, even though he heard her perfectly fine, he wanted you to be proud. You’re ashamed that it made you feel so good to hurt someone who deserved it, you loved wiping the smirk off the bo's face. It made you feel… powerful.

But you'd never admit that to anyone. Luke understood that, but he wanted you to know you could talk to him about things like that; about anything. “I love duelling, not because it helps me with training, or because I win every time.” Luke smirked watching how you rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, “I love it because it feels so good to get all that anger off your chest. I love how it sounds when my fist meets someone's face. I love how it makes me feel powerful.”

After every sentence, his face got closer to yours, your noses just inches apart. Your breath hitched as he raised his hand to brush your hair behind your ear. He thought you were breathtaking like this, but you're always breathtaking to him.

You could be covered in blood and he'd still want to hold your face in his hands. He'd still kiss you so softly, but he knew he'd be too hungry for your lips to be gentle.

To Luke, his whole world was grey. Recently he hated everything and wanted to destroy it all. But you, you're the only colourful thing in his world. He'd do anything and everything to keep you safe, if anyone touched you he'd kill them. He so badly wanted to show you how perfect you are-he so badly wanted to close the small space that was between the both of you.

“So, how did it feel?” Luke asked again, seeing you give into trusting him.

Finally, you smirked. “It made me feel good. So. Fucking. Good.”