#but to me that title will probably always be........ A Choice. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simpjaes · 5 days

Text

BOOK SMART? P*SSY SMART. — P.JS

The one where Jay basically lives in the university library and you live in any and every party you can find on campus. Unfortunately, your grades are suffering over it and you need help. You’re quite lucky though because Jay is quite helpful.

minors do not interact.

WORDCOUNT― 10k

PAIRING― inexperienced loser jay x afab reader

CONTENT― Jay wears glasses even tho the banner says otherwise lol, he’s also a loser ass dweeb in this, open minded and playful reader, college au, jay just rly wants to get in that but doesn't know how to

NOTE― this is a revamp, surprise surprise, nobody is shocked. was originally written for mark lee over on my other blog @/ncteez but i need jay like i need air so….cackling at the title tho, my brain is malfunctioning pls forgive me

smut tags under cut::

smut tags :: MONSTER COCK AGENDA. Jay is a pervert and smells ur towel lmao, mentions of food and detailed popsicle eating, reader is very vocal and talkative, slight use of the pet name “pretty”, a lot of cum, cream pie, unprotected sex, mention of bc pills, Jay has a huge cock and he didn’t even know it, inexperienced Jay, experienced reader, finger sucking, nipple sucking, grinding, oral (f recieving), Jay gets on his knees, making out, sex on a table

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It wasn’t shocking that you were failing but it was shocking that not a single one of your friends were failing with you. They somehow managed to keep their grades up while partying just as often as you do. You don’t know how the hell they did it and you also don’t know why the hell they refuse to help you study now that they’ve seen your failure.

Not the greatest friends, you think. They won’t help you study because they only have time to study their own classes and to continue partying without you, apparently. You knew you had to come to terms eventually that these people aren’t your friends. They’re just people to party with, people to have fun with, and apparently, people that will watch you struggle.

It’s frustrating to walk home from classes by the run-down houses with booming music already playing. Without fail, every time, you wish you could be attending instead of studying. It’s even more annoying when you give up on your studies because you’re just not fucking getting it, and you probably would be fucking getting it if you were at a party talking to potential boyfriends or fuckbuddies.

Fairness in the world is so hard to grasp. Someone else always has it, but never you. The worst part about all of this is that you’re very aware of how lucky you actually are, you wasted away in college and allowed yourself to get this low simply because you were lucky enough to be well-liked. You prioritized the pointless things over the important things, and now you’re suffering for it. Complaining that you can’t attend parties, looking like a bore to your friends who pity and are embarrassed by you for not being able to multitask like everyone else.

That’s right. You can’t party and study like everyone else, so maybe now it’s time to focus on the task you’d pushed aside for so long.

Studying. Ugh.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You don’t know Jay past the fact that he is in at least three of your classes, extremely quiet, and constantly in the library when you pass by to leave the campus. You’re a little bit ashamed to admit that the majority of people you are well-liked by are the people who are ignoring you right now. The only choice you have is to find someone that can help you catch up on all of the studies you’ve blatantly abandoned. You could go through the student center and “officially” attend tutoring sessions with someone who would likely scoff at you for not getting it, or you could find someone of your own choice to help you.

That’s the only reason Jay comes to mind. Again, he is in three of the four of your classes. Every semester, without fail, you’ll look for your name on the dean’s list knowing that it’ll never show up, but you have seen Jay’s name on that list more times than you care to remember.

Jay knows of you as well. The girl who cut in front of him in the cafeteria to grab coffee with her large group of friends, making him ten minutes late to be early for his class. The girl who loudly slammed a book down in the library and nearly gave him a heart attack, the girl who came into class stumbling and giggling with one of the guys, clearly still tipsy from the night before.

You are everything that Jay isn’t. You are everything he avoids when accepting friends into his life, and his interest in you doesn’t really go past the point of having a stubborn, pretty girl to look at. He is a man after all. A man who is finally away from home, surrounded by hormonal women and men who can’t see past their brain fog of sexual fantasies in class. Never towards him though, he’s usually just on the outside looking in.

Jay has those fantasies too, but it isn’t his focus. He is dead set on being a top student, one that people recognize on the academic end rather than the partying end of it all. So, here he is, sitting with his nose in a book, glasses sliding down every few minutes as he munches on a pack of crackers. He’s been here for three hours already and finds comfort in the silence of the library. It’s such a vast place with so many corners to hide in if someone were to come and disturb his peace. Today is no different from any other Friday, where few students choose to study and instead opt for one of the various frat parties or bar hops.

You wish you could be one of those people, truly, but instead, you’re making your way to the library in search of Jay. The one student who you assume may actually take you up on the offer of study sessions. You imagine his shocked face when you sit in front of him, and you try your best not to imagine a look of disgust rather than approval. You need Jay now, for the first time in your life, more than ever. His knowledge of the three out of four classes you have will surely work wonders on your GPA, you will probably have to admit how much you’d be relying on him in order for him to even consider your offer too.

God, you hate begging.

The library is so deafeningly silent when you walk in. You can’t hear even the slightest of a whisper as you walk around and peek into the many empty study rooms and cubicles. After several minutes of searching, the anxiety bubbles up inside of you. What if he decided to do something else? Of all days? The one day where he is needed to be studying?

Just as you turn to leave, ignoring the entire second floor of the library, you nearly walk straight into him. And by nearly, you actually do walk directly into him.

Books clatter to the floor, Jay sighs as he looks down without making eye contact with you. It’s not the first time he’s been walked into and it probably won’t be the last. He is forever wishing that people could just watch where they’re fucking going.

“Hey, I’m sorry–” You go to say as you lean down to help him pick up the mess, he still doesn’t look at you though. Honestly, he barely even notices you there with those airpods in his ears and eyes on the floor.

To be fair, most people who walk into him just continue walking, so…

When he does take note of another person helping him retrieve his things, he looks up. You’re not shocked that all he does is nod at you when he takes the book from your hands and makes his way back towards his study space.

In an awkward way, you follow him. You feel dumb and kind of lost in this world of books and good students. Up the stairs, towards the floor you’d not even bothered to check, Jay unintentionally leads you to his little corner that already has papers and books laid out.

You swallow hard when he takes his seat and looks up to see that you have followed him. Jay is quick to swipe one of his AirPods from his ears and you can kind of tell that he instantly went from relaxed to nervous.

“Uh–” You look around, feeling awkward standing there. “I was looking for you.”

“Me?” Jay questions with a soured look on his face. He doesn’t really do it intentionally, it’s just, like, what?

“Why?”

“Okay, just hear me out.” You start, taking a few steps forward and inviting yourself to sit at his table. There is absolutely no arm space on this side, but that doesn’t entirely matter. You begin your pitch.

“I know it’s kind of weird, but, I’m failing.”

“That’s not weird.” Jay mocks, shaking his head and moving to put his airpod back in his ear.

“Wait! Just, please–hear me out.” You plead now, a little frustrated that he’s already refusing to help you.

He looks around and then lets out a deep sigh. Rubbing his temples, he nods.

“I know we aren’t the type to like, help each other or whatever– but I’ve asked all of my friends, and they kind of blacklisted me…you are my last resort, I swear.” You say, begging with your eyes. “Can you please just help me study for like, one day a week?”

His body is stiff and his face is unimpressed by your pitch.

“An hour a week?” You adjust clapping your hands together to plead even harder. You very nearly start to grovel on the ground before him. “Jay, please. I need to get my grades up.”

“If you had just given yourself a day a week, you wouldn’t have to be asking someone you’ve never even spoken with to help you study.” He rolls his eyes, still mocking and appearing a bit cocky at the sudden power he’s been given. Of course he only gets approached when someone needs something from him.

“How many classes are you failing?”

“I’m failing three classes and have a C in another–” You shamefully admit. “Just an hour a day, please.”

Jay eyes you over, shifting a bit in his seat before letting out another sigh.

“Finals are barely a month away.”

“I know! I’ve already got extra credit lined up so I can at least get my grades up by a letter but– I,” You look down, more ashamed than before.

“You don’t know how to actually do the extra credit, do you?” Jay finishes for you and is, for some reason, shocked when you nod.

He can see the panic in your eyes, and he noticed for the past week that you’d been looking incredibly tired around campus. Not the hung-over type of tired either. He’s noticed you move your seat closer to the front in one of the classes and even noted that you’re actually taking notes during your time spent there. Maybe he should help you out. If not for the fact that you genuinely seem to need it, but also maybe because he’s like, incredibly aware that he is attracted to you.

He always has been, but that’s not the fucking point.

“Okay, you can come study with me whenever you want then. I usually study here because I have a roommate who isn’t exactly the quietest person–” He goes to explain.

“I have an entire apartment to myself, you can come study at my place. Really, I’ll make food and everything.” You panic, still trying to sell the idea despite him already accepting your offer.

Jay is a little shocked and offended that you have your own apartment, and yet you’re failing your classes. No way in hell are you paying for that yourself. This only prompts him to want to help more. Because, like? An entire apartment to study in? Where a pretty girl makes his food?

“Okay, that can work. What days and times can I be over?” He follows up with a nonchalant nod, noting the three shared classes and the one other you’ll probably need help with. He hopes he’s already taken the outlier class, otherwise he won’t be much help in that regard.

“You can walk home with me after those classes if you want, and we can study until you’re ready to leave?” You offer. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be every day, but–”

“We can meet up after every class and decide if you want to study or not.” Jay finishes for you yet again, and you nod with a smile.

“What’s your favorite food?” You ask, wanting to make a mental note of keeping your end of the bargain.

Jay thinks hard at that because being put on the spot like this makes answering any question a bit difficult.

“Here–” You hold out your phone. “Put your number in and you can think about it. I’ll text you so you have mine.”

You can’t wipe the smile off of your face, the anxiety is practically dissolving from your body at the very idea of someone being willing to help you in the comfort of your own apartment.

He, on the other hand, is a bit more anxious now. He realizes that now, he’s going to be studying with you. A girl who had never even looked at him twice during the semesters you’ve shared classes. He’s putting his number into your phone, and you’re going to be texting him, and spending time with him instead of going to the parties that he’s never invited to.

“I’ll see you on Monday?” You ask in his silence, sending a quick text to him so that he can save your number. He nods and looks down at his books. “Don’t forget to text me what you want to eat, okay?”

He nods again as you stand to walk away. He watches intently at the way you have a little bounce in your step and can’t help but feel his cheeks flushing. God, why is he doing this to himself?

Slamming his head on the desk, he, much like you, cannot stop smiling now. All thoughts of studying for the remainder of the night left his head and were replaced with his new study schedule. He thinks he will try and take it easy this weekend, specifically so he is mentally prepared. He’s only talked to you for a total of fourteen minutes and he’s already lost his ability to study and think clearly.

If he’s lucky, the two of you will pass this semester with flying colors. There’s still that tiny part of him though, that wonders if maybe you’d find interest in him, and maybe he will fail the semester with you because, honestly, you are so distracting.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

On Monday, you sat up straight in class while eyeing the back of Jay’s head most of the time. Mostly to prepare yourself for if and when he makes a break for it. He hasn’t even texted you what he wants to eat today, and part of you wonders if he went back on his promise to you. Not that it was much of a promise in the first place, anyway.

He was a little shocked that you weren’t the first out of the room once everyone wrapped up though. Like you, he was assuming the same thing. You’d make a fucking break for it and pretend you never approached him in the first place. After all, It was common for you to leave mid-way through class or be the first one out the door. Instead though, he finds himself proud of you. You stood there awkwardly looking at him as the room emptied out, clearly unsure of what to do or say to him.

Jay nods your way as if to beckon you towards him.

“You’re still wanting to study today?” He asks with a brow raised in surprise.

All weekend he had thought about it. Thought about the possibility of it just being a joke to you, or maybe that you’d change your mind and allow yourself to flunk out like you already had been doing. His heart kind of jumps a bit noticing you looking at him like this.

“Yeah? Wasn’t that the plan?” You ask, nudging him a bit once you get up beside him. “You didn’t text me what you wanted to eat so you’re just gonna have to eat whatever I have in the fridge, by the way.”

Jay nods, opting to stay silent at this moment. He’s going home with you. He’s going to be seen on campus walking home with you. He’s not the sort to want attention, but this situation feels dangerously attractive to him. Especially when he takes note of how you’re probably going to look all…cozy and at home in your apartment. Like, he gets to be in your space teaching you things that you should have already known.

It all shouldn’t be so exciting. After all, his days are filled with the typical boring sessions of reading, writing, noting, and memorizing. It is exciting for him though. Never has he studied with someone like you, or really even gotten to talk to someone that most of the men speak to, the unreachable men no less. The ones with families that own the city, and all the houses in it.

You’re one of the unreachable women on campus, he thinks. The ones with standards based on fun, attractiveness, and chaos rather than charisma, personality, and knowledge. It’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing for Jay to be doing this right now.

“Okay, so...” Jay drones out, avoiding eye contact with you as he packs things into his ratty backpack. “I’m not super hungry right now but–we are going to your place right?”

He needs the confirmation himself if he’s being honest. Nothing would suck more than assuming and being proved wrong.

You nod with a smile, grabbing his hand as soon as he throws his backpack on. It isn’t intimate to you, but for him, it’s…something. Holding his hand is reserved for intimate relationships with family or girlfriends. He never holds hands.

He’s never really gotten the chance to anyway, aside from a little cousin when they were crossing the street last summer. He can’t help but buckle in on himself in a shy sort of way as you lead him from the room and out of the building.

You’re rambling about all of the things you need to study. All of the snacks you could offer to him. All of the hours you wish you hadn’t wasted partying, yet, all he’s thinking about is how warm your hand feels in his. You seem to be a natural at talking to people. Touching them without a single worry in the world, it’s kind of nice, he thinks. The fact that you aren’t ashamed to be seen together with him, heading towards the place you sleep. Sometimes Jay forgets that this is college. No one actually cares who is hanging out with who unless they are in the middle of a raunchy frat party, seeing their love interest getting touched against a dirty bathroom counter.

He smiles to himself as he finally catches up to you and allows you to stop dragging him around. He keeps pace with you now, resting his hand as if to allow you to let go, but you don't.

“Just around that corner–” You say, glancing over at him and noting the shade of color his face has become. “You good?”

Jay nods, staying quiet and trying to force himself out of his thoughts. He glances down at your hand holding his and then back up at you on instinct.

“Ah, sorry.” You mumble, releasing his hand and trying hard to understand that maybe you truly are too clingy with most people in your life. You think his reaction was kind of cute though, and now you’re a little determined to help him relax those stiffened shoulders. Jay can’t be as boring as he seems, right?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“I have peanut butter and jelly, eggs, noodles, some leftover pizza and–”

“I’m not hungry, but If I can have some water or something, that would be cool.” Jay cuts you off, slipping off his shoes in an immaculate show of how clumsy he is. You can hear the clatter of your entire coat rack falling to the floor due to his weight leaning on it through that single task.

“Okay–” You side eye his mess with a slight smile. “Water, got it.”

You trail off to get him the drink, keeping a small mental note of how nervous he appears to be right now. He’s panicked, frantically trying to balance your coat rack back in place as if you hadn’t walked directly into him just the Friday before.

“Jay, it’s just a coat rack.” You laugh with water in hand, hearing him mutter a sorry as he hangs one of your empty purses back onto it.

“Thanks.” He says now, reaching out for the drink.

Watching his eyes go from the glass of water to your apartment, you smile at the look on his face. Such a smart guy acting so incredibly stupid the moment he’s alone in an apartment with a girl. Cute.

“Is this good?” You ask as if you’re offering a change of subject so that he doesn’t have to think about the coat rack he had just knocked over. You point over to your dining table that’s placed perfectly in a little nook against a window and look at him as he stands in place. “We can start whenever you’re ready?”

“Can you show me to the bathroom first?” Jay blurts, hyper-aware of his awkward demeanor. He needs to calm himself down before even thinking about sitting down to fucking study.

You point to the bathroom quickly, making your way to the table and adjusting everything so there is space for the piles of books soon to be laid on it. You watch only a little bit at how Jay makes his way over to said bathroom in a show of not-so-confident body language. He seemed kind of cocky on Friday, but today he seems to be like jelly.

You sit at the dining table without thinking much more of the man in your bathroom, instead, you pull out some textbooks and lay them out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay stares at himself in the mirror, he can practically see the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he comes to terms with the fact that he probably shouldn’t have agreed to come to your apartment to study. You’re attractive. That alone is a reason in his head to avoid it, but he’s here and he’s already made a fool of himself.

He slaps his face a bit with some cold water and tries to will himself to stop acting like such an awkward idiot. Surely you’ll pick up on his inability to talk to women if he doesn’t get it together, right? You’re going to think he’s some weirdo, a pervert maybe, before throwing him out and avoiding him forever.

Staring harder at himself, he waits for the color to run from his face so that way he can get out there and start the study session, but then his eyes start to wander.

Your bathroom is immaculately clean save for some makeup stains on the counter and a few stray hairs that must have been yanked out of your head while you attempted to brush out a night of drinking. It smells fresh and your perfectly hung towels look plush hanging against the wall. Without a thought in his head, he leans towards the towel so that he can dry his face and hands, and that’s just what he does. Except, maybe he buries his face into the towel a bit longer than he needed to, and maybe the smell of it was so astronomically sweet that he nuzzled against it even more.

He could tell the towel had been used at least once though, solely because he could smell a scent that wasn’t the soap on the counter, nor any laundry detergent he’s aware of. Then…his eyes flick to the actual hand towel that he somehow missed, right beside it? A lace bra. The flush comes back to his face, making him feel even warmer than he did when he entered the room. Which feels like a fucking nightmare if he’s being totally honest.

It dawns on him again. He’s in your apartment, smelling your towels, and staring at your bra. Coming to the bathroom in an attempt to calm down has done nothing more than make things worse, and the only option he has now is to stumble out of the bathroom hoping you assume he was in here doing number two rather than planting his face into a towel where you dry off your naked body.

Mumbling to himself, Jay prepares himself to face you. Sure, you probably see nothing out of the norm if he does well and hides the fact that he’s hyper-sensitive just for being in your space, then again, Jay has never been the best at playing pretend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You offer him a bright smile once he finally makes his way back into your living space and seats himself at the table. He seems to be avoiding eye contact with you, bashfully pulling his own books out of his bag with shaking fingers.

“Are you okay? You sure you don’t want a snack or something?” You look at him, head tilting at him in concern.

Jay finally looks at you and notes how comfortable you seem while he feels like he’s internally falling apart. There shouldn’t be any fucking issue in his head when it comes to this situation, but here he is, panicking because a pretty girl is in front of him.

He feels so dumb, so obvious, so embarrassed. Yeah, maybe he should eat something, at least so he can buy some time to focus on something else before he starts stuttering through your studies. At this rate, all you’re going to learn about today is how awful Jay is around women.

“Maybe I should eat, yeah–” He says in a small voice, still staring at the books as he places them on the table.

“Come look in my kitchen, we can eat something together?” You offer, reaching toward his hand.

He pulls back from your touch and tries to play it off casually like he was just reaching for a pencil, but you didn’t miss the fact that his hands were cold and shaky.

Taking note, it starts to dawn on you. You’ve dealt with men like him before, and it was always an interesting situation. To check your theory, you rise from the chair and lean over the table, being sure to squish whatever cleavage you have visible to make it more visible to him.

“Salty or sweet?” You ask, watching his eyes intently and the way they struggle to reach your face. Score one for you, Jay is definitely a man above all. Luckily for him, you have lots of experience in that field, while he appears to have very little in the field of women.

“W-what?” He drones out, pulling his eyes away from you in an attempt to hide the way his face immediately flushed.

“The snacks? Savory or sweet?” You laugh, propping yourself back from the table and hopping into the kitchen, checking behind you to see if he follows.

He does stand to follow, but by the time you round the corner, he isn’t behind you like you figured he would be. Peeping your head around the corner, you watch as he holds his hands in front of his groin, looks down at himself, and then lets out a deep sigh. You then watch as he adjusts himself in his pants, uncomfortably hiding a semi-hard on so that he could come into the kitchen without suspicion.

By this point, you’ve already decided that studying will very likely not be part of today’s schedule. He wouldn’t be able to focus on a damn thing like this, right? You should help him, right?

“Took you long enough.” You joke as he appears in the kitchen, turning to look at him and intentionally trailing your eyes down his body just to see if you can see any sort of bulge. He’s safe though because he apparently must have skills in hiding his arousal during the worst times.

Jay, on the other hand, can already tell that your shift in mood is intensely different compared to before he went to the bathroom. Twice now you’ve been blatant towards him and it is not helping him at all right now. Is he reading it wrong because he’s very obviously horny right now? Were you really trying to dangle your breasts in front of him like that? Are you really checking him out right now?

“Sorry–” He looks down. “I– uh, I dropped something.” He offers as an excuse, uncomfortably trying to shift from your view and avoid eye contact.

“Sure.” You say with a roll of your eyes, knowing full well that he was hiding his cock. “I want something sweet. Sounds good?” You change the subject, reaching out and running your fingers down his arm.

He swallows hard, stiffening his shoulders and nodding to you. Without hesitation, you let your fingers stay against him for a few seconds longer, keeping eye contact with him before turning and opening a cupboard.

“Peanut butter crackers, cereal, and oatmeal.” You deadpan, slamming the cupboard and stepping to the fridge. “Pudding.” Then you open the freezer. “Popsicles, and ice cream.”

Jay just stands there when you close the doors to the fridge and look at him in question. He could opt for the crackers but his throat is already dry enough. Choking right now would be even more humiliating. Cereal could work but that would be embarrassing too, for some reason. Oatmeal is an option, solely for how disgusting it looks, surely it would tame his boner.

But, popsicles? Hell no.

“Grab whatever you want, I'm eating a popsicle.” You say, raising a brow and throwing open the freezer door again to take your pick.

Of course, it’s intentional. It’s fun to see his eyes light up at the very idea of seeing you eat a popsicle, and even more fun to imagine how flustered he’s going to be in mere minutes.

Jay looks to the floor and heads towards your fridge, also opting for a popsicle despite his very recent internal protest. Mostly so you don’t think he’s a pervert when he inevitably sees you eat it. But also, like, just in case you really are trying to flirt with him right now, at least his lips will taste sweet too.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You had expected Jay to get flustered, and boy did he. What you didn’t expect though, was to become flustered yourself by the image of Jay’s tongue darting over sweet ice, and then over his own lips to suck up the melted and sticky juice. The only image in your head right now is the idea of if he would lick his lips like that if you were to spread your legs for him. Would he lick up your mess on his face, chasing the flavor the same way he’s doing right now?

A dull ache begins to spread throughout your body as you watch him. His eyes still avoid you but you manage to catch him a few times. Each time he makes eye contact with you, your gaze shoots to his lap just to see if he’s gotten hard enough for his cock to leave its tucked position in his waistband.

Jay is hyper-aware now too, with the way you’re staring and almost leaving your popsicle unattended as he eats his own. He feels confused, like? Are you doing what he was actively avoiding doing to you? Jesus, you really are kind of a whore, god.

By the time the popsicles are finished, your fingers are sticky from allowing it to drip down the stick. You make a point to suck each of your fingers innocently, looking under your lashes at him for split seconds as you begin to shuffle through the papers on the table.

“So–” You say, popping one finger out of your mouth and inserting another. “Can we start here? I need to have a paper written on at least one topic on this list and have no idea how to find a good source to read from.”

Jay hears and sees you in tunnel vision right now, but he manages to catch the ass end of your sentence and begins to try and focus on the studies at hand. Still watching you suck your fingers into your mouth, he clears his throat and places his own popsicle stick onto the table, pretending he doesn’t wish your tongue would lick him like that.

“I wrote mine based on this topic, and I found a lot of good sources for it. I don’t think our professor would think too hard about us choosing the same subject–”

“Yeah, especially because it’s me. They’d never guess you’re in my apartment right now.” You laugh, smirking over at him.

“I would’ve never guessed either–” Jay says without thinking, barely processing how embarrassing he is before you squint at him with a wider smile.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, raising a brow and leaning forward. “Why’s that?”

Jay tries to look around but now can’t seem to force his eyes away from you. A much different circumstance compared to before when he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. There’s a connection here, he can feel it. You’re definitely coming onto him and you have been for the past however long he’s been here.

“You’re kind of out of my league, don’t you think?” He laughs more at himself than he does the situation, and to you, he honestly looks pitiful after saying that. It’s incredibly attractive to you in the way he seems to praise you for being a failure simply because he’s attracted to you. At least, that’s the case if you’re reading him right.

“Who said someone like you couldn’t teach me a thing or two?” You have a smile in your voice, and it comforts him, but that comfort is shot down when you stand on your feet and walk over to him. “Who says I’m out of your league?” You ask again, watching him scoot back with his chair as you come closer.

You prop yourself against the table, essentially blocking him from his books and papers. You look down at him now, dipping your head in a playful way. “I don’t think I’m out of your league.”

Jay notes how you’re between him and the table now. You look comfortable leaning in front of him like this, and when his eyes trail up to your face all his body can do is give in. He looks at you through large eyes, the overhead light is sparkling through them at you.

In that instant, you can see his embarrassment fill his body because he’s no longer resisting the urge to be himself. He’s staring at you as if you could be a god and saying nothing in response to your words.

“If anything, Jongie–” You soothe him, grabbing one of his hands and smiling at the way his pen immediately falls out of his grip. “You’re out of my league.”

He blinks up at you, soaking in the words and not yet understanding in full what you’re doing until he feels warmth enveloping the entirety of his hand and wrist.

“Do you know how lucky I am that you’re here right now?” You ask him, basking in the way you can see his breath get caught in his throat. “How lucky I am that you’re not only smart but hot too?”

He dips his head at this, a bashful show of your words having an impact on him. He hides his face briefly against his arm and then he realizes–

“Is this okay?” You ask, holding his hand in place as you begin to move your hips against his palm.

Jay watches the way you’ve managed to pull his hand out and plant it between your legs, all so you could grind against it without so much as a warning. He’s not against it though, if anything, his head is shot back to reality and he’s immediately back to glancing around the room and avoiding the scene in front of him.

His palm is against your literal, dampening panties, and all he can think to say right now is, “You could write your thesis on human connection and its effects on the brain.”

You smile at his attempt to continue to study through this moment.

“I could,” You say with a deeper voice than before, feeling the way his hand stays relaxed in your grasp as you grind against it. “Or we could think about how your brain is being affected right now?”

Jay groans, feeling the warmth of your wet beginning to seep through the fabric, and honestly, it is happening so fast that he’s sure it would be more embarrassing if he walked out now.

“How are you feeling?” You reword your question towards him, intentionally swiveling your hips so that you can position his fingers into your underwear.

“You’re warm.” Jay chokes out, eyes now zoning in on your legs slightly spread in front of him.

You let out a small laugh at this, pulling a bit on his arm to pull him closer, but he doesn’t compute it at all.

“Do you like it?” You ask again, this time slipping his fingers into you. You let out a deep sigh and roll your eyes back, fucking yourself gently against his fingers before you look at him.

He’s nodding, probably more thankful now that you’d worn a skirt today rather than pants. He didn’t allow himself to take note of your attire, because if he did, he would have made even more of a fool of himself. But he’s nodding now, watching the way you hold his arm in place and slide his fingers in and out of you.

His silence is louder than his words could be right now, you think. You can feel him straighten his fingers inside of you, you can practically see him salivate at the very idea of how you’re using him right now. You’re not done though, no, no. He’s far too sweet like this, but you want to hear words.

Gently, you pull your hips back effectively slipping his fingers out of you. There, you lift his arm and examine your wetness against his fingers. You smile again, eyes now adjusting to his face rather than his wet fingers.

Jay watches as you guide his fingers to his lip, and without a second thought, he opens his mouth to taste you against them. He licks circles around each of the two fingers, closing his eyes almost instantly so that he can relish the experience.

He no longer cares how awkward he must seem sitting here like this, letting you do all the work.

“Do you like the taste too?” You ask, releasing his hand and watching how he continues to suck his fingers.

“Mhm–” Jay groans with his closed mouth around the digits, making damn sure to suck every bit off.

“You’re pretty, you know that?” You compliment him this time, tearing your eyes from him and slipping your panties down your legs. You turn yourself over so that you’re now bent over the table and you ignore the corner of one of the textbooks poking against your ribs, all in favor of what sound Jay will make when he opens his eyes.

“You can taste more, if you want.” You offer, lifting to look behind you at the way his fingers drop from his mouth and his eyes immediately zone in on your bare pussy displayed for him under your hiked-up skirt.

He does let out a whimper, one that seemed entirely desperate to do just that for you but–he doesn’t move. He just stares, soaking in the words you’re saying, memorizing each fold and dip in your glistening pussy.

You don’t intend to wait though. Reaching behind you, you grab the back of his head by his hair and guide his face to you. The way you can hear his chair tip over as he falls to his knees makes you quiver a bit before him, and you’re almost surprised to not just feel a face against you. It appears that Jay does know what he’s doing.

He instantly jumps into action, loving the feeling of your hand in his hair basically telling him to do it. Giving him that green light, letting him.

You can feel his tongue exploring and his other hand reaching to lift your skirt entirely over your ass. His tongue is soft, warm, wet, and so entirely eager to lick and suck every inch of you. It’s not until he starts allowing his moans to vibrate into your flesh that you hike one of your legs up and open your cunt against his working tongue more.

Guiding him by his hair still, you press his face harshly into you with little to no fight for air from him, and you’re loving it. Loving the way he whines for more when his tongue reaches the furthest limit, loving even more when he finally reaches his hands up to your pussy and spreads it out for himself.

He isn’t even thinking at this moment, just tasting and feeling you guide his tongue as if this is what you wanted all along. The thought alone of someone like you wanting to fuck his tongue like this sets his cock on fire in so many ways. He’s so hard right now that it hurts to think about it at all. Jay doesn’t give a single fuck about how pathetic he must sound to you right now, whimpering and panting against you as if this was the only sweet thing in your apartment he wanted to eat anyway.

You hear a clatter to the floor, knowing for a fact that he’s knocked his glasses off of his face from the angle in which he skewed his neck in order to fuck his tongue into you. You wonder what’s going through his mind right now, because goddamn he’s eating you out like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He’s impressively messy and loud with it too, making you feel as if you must taste like the sweetest thing on earth to him.

For some reason, thinking back to all of the non-sexual situations you’d passively seen Jay in? It turns you on even more. The big-brained student who is constantly making straight As and never going out to parties eats pussy like this? Eats your pussy like this? Better than half of the men you’d already been with? Jay doesn’t miss a single centimeter of it, and you can tell he’s focusing on you more than he has ever focused on his homework or studies before.

You feel so deeply needed at this moment by Jay that all you can do is let out a desperate moan for him. One so that he knows he’s not the only one utterly stunned by the turn of events, but also because you’re fucking loving what he’s doing to you.

With each moan, Jay picks up his pace, using those same two fingers and spreading your cunt out impossibly wider just so he can attempt to bury his tongue deeper into the messy, wet heat you offer. He’s spreading you apart so well that it almost pains you to move without the fear of being torn open by his tongue alone. Your clit has barely even been reached but he still managed to make you feel sensitive to the point of wanting to beat your fists on the table out of sheer frustration for not approaching him sooner.

Not only can he help you pass your classes, but he surely could make you feel like a fucking queen on top of it all, licking you open, up and down, as if he were born and trained for you and you alone? Insane.

“You’re so–” You groan out, releasing his hair from your grip but pressing your ass out more so that you can feel him slip his tongue back to your clit with impossible reach. He continues that, sliding his tongue from your clit to your entrance, dipping in and swirling the muscle before going back to your clit. All while he’s moaning, groaning, and panting against you.

It’s too much, he’s so incredibly eager that you’re honestly too sensitive to let him keep going. You hate it when you pull your hips forward and lift from the table. Your legs are shaking when you do this, and shaking even more when you turn to face him and lean against the table again.

“How–?” You look down at him in pleasant surprise, watching him lick his lips much like you hoped he would. “How are you so good at this?”

Jay is stunned by your question because in all fairness, he’s only ever eaten a girl out once and like, it wasn’t that great because she made him stop within like a minute. He wasn’t really thinking about what to do with you though, or how to do it. He just…did it. That’s all. So obsessed with the taste and smell of you to the point he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He’d still be licking you right now if you didn’t move away.

“I–don’t know.” He shamefully admits, nonchalantly moving his hands to his pants and unbuttoning them. Not to fuck you or anything, mostly just to release his cock from the chokehold of the denim rubbing against him.

“You’re lying.” You deadpan, running your hand between your legs and quivering the moment your fingers run over your swollen clit. “There’s no way you haven’t practiced doing this.” You gasp, looking at him as if no other man exists.

He shakes his head, looking up at you from the floor with innocent eyes. His lips are wet, his eyes are hooded, his hair sticking up from your fingers guiding him– it’s a lot to see him like this when you’ve only ever seen him as that goody-two-shoes student who doesn’t know how to have fun. Clearly, Jay knows how to have fun.

Your gaze on him makes him feel more bashful as he looks down to the floor, feeling embarrassed that you’re praising a complete amateur at this.

Using your leg, you nudge him.

“You did all of that and didn’t even touch yourself?” You ask in curiosity, noting how he had only just now undone his pants to relieve pressure. “Let me see it.” You say again, almost demanding as you hop up on the table and spread your legs even more.

Frantic at your tone of voice, Jay stumbles to his feet and pushes his pants down to his thighs. His cock springs out and stands erect in front of you. You could stare all day, honestly. Jay, of all people? He’s the one with a cock this big? He’s the one with a size that could make you feel as if you’re being split in half? Well, fuck.

“God.” You comment, mouth falling open at the way it twitches in mid-air. “All of the girls would be fucking swooning, Jay, really.” You get a bit flustered yourself because only now do you understand who you just seduced and what he’s got to offer outside of brains.

In all of his shyness, Jay hides his face from you again despite his cock out in all of its glory. Your mouth could honestly start watering if he hadn’t just eaten you out to the point of needing him to stop. Meaning, your throat is too dry right now to start drooling.

Without another thought, you pull your shirt and bra off all in one go. No way in hell is he leaving without fucking you stupid with a cock like that. Absolutely no fucking way would you let this go to waste.

“When’s the last time you’ve done anything with a girl?” You ask now, reaching for his arm and pulling his gaze back towards you, now almost completely naked save for your skirt hiked up to your waist.

Jay stares at you again, much like he did when you spread your legs in front of him, this time zoning in on the way your nipples are erect and begging for his mouth to be put to use again. He nearly forgets that you’re talking to him because of the way you’ve presented yourself to him. The reality is right in front of his face, but he still wonders if this must be a dream.

“I–um– right out of high school before she broke up with me,” He says in a lazy voice, slightly raspy. It sounds as if it doesn’t even matter to him because he is so focused on you in front of him. “I’ve only had sex two times.”

“Aw–” You pitifully look at him. “What a waste, you’re such a pretty boy.” You coo, wiggling your hips as if to entice his cock to make its way towards you. “You’ve got the brains and the cock for it. You must feel so neglected.”

All he does is nod, because yes, he does feel fucking neglected, partly because he let it happen and mostly because he knows he doesn’t know how to talk to girls. Right now, Jay could genuinely start crying if you keep talking to him like this though. He can’t tell if you’re mocking him or being genuine, but the only thing he wants to do is bury his cock so deeply inside of you that all you can do is moan out mantras of how pretty he is again. He wants to hear you moan over how much time has been wasted without his cock inside of you, how badly you’d want him again and again after this.

You can see his facial expressions change every few seconds and to be fair, your body yearns to be filled. With the way he is looking at you, there’s no way he doesn’t want to.

“Wanna fuck me, Jongie?” You ask, realizing that you much prefer calling him this rather than his full name because he seems to lean directly into it.

“God,” He sighs out, hanging his head to look at the way his cock still stands painfully erect throughout the conversation. “Can I?” He asks now, making eye contact with you through pleading eyes.

You reach out for him, grabbing his waist and pressing his cock directly against your core. You lean your head back a bit to look at him and the way his eyes sear straight through your own. His pupils are dilated, his cheeks are rosy, and his lips are glistening. You lick against them, and the way he immediately starts to kiss you makes you think he’s a liar. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his mouth regardless of where it is. His tongue presses into your mouth so beautifully that you genuinely could argue that this man has only ever had sex twice.

Maybe he’s a natural?

Jay knows exactly when to grind his cock between your folds, knows exactly when to pull back to kiss your neck, and knows exactly how to lean you back with his hand protecting the back of your head so that it doesn’t slam against the table.

He slips his cock so beautifully as he trails his kisses to your tits too, suckling gently against one of your nipples before he nearly can’t stand it anymore. He’s in his own world, barely recognizing that he’s not the only one experiencing this right now.

With an eager hand, Jay grabs his cock and presses it directly into you without waiting any longer. He isn’t slow or gentle with it. You can feel how desperate he is solely because of the way he can’t seem to fathom taking it slow. He doesn’t let you adjust, no. The second the head of that thick cock slips in he’s slamming in. All the way, forcing a yelp from your throat and a tight grip to his back.

He’s lost himself in the moment and you’re loving it. Loving the way his tongue picks up against your nipples, and the way there is no rhythm or rhyme to his thrusts. His size alone is enough for you, and you can admit to loving every single push and pull his body is offering.

The room is silent save for his whimpers, your gasps, and the wet sound of skin slapping against skin. You’re quick to wrap a leg around his waist so that when he presses in again, you can force him to stay in place, if just to let him genuinely feel what it’s like to have a pussy clenching around him.

“You feel it?” You groan out, feeling his teeth pinch against your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body.

He nods frantically, pulling your nipple with his lips as he does it. You can tell he’s drooling, wetting your chest in such an embarrassing way, but he’s so–Jay. He’s Jay. This is Jay.

You watch his face and the way he winces with each pulse of your hole quivering around the sheer size of him, and you coo out at him when his cock twitches in response. As if you can handle yourself right now, as if he can too.

Neither of you can comprehend the pleasure.

“Can’t believe I get to be your third.” You sing out. “You’re so good, so–”

“S-stop talking, fuck-” Jay calls out in a broken and choked gasp, feeling too turned on by the way you speak. He can’t help it when he forces his hips to move against the pressure of your leg trying to keep him in place. This time he fucks at a quicker pace. His mouth falls open against your breast and his hands shoot to your waist as he pulls himself up and opens his eyes.

He watches the way your sticky cunt coats him as he slides in and out of you, fingers pressing so hard into your hips that you feel he could be bruising you.

You’re so in awe of him losing complete control that you want nothing more than to cum with him inside of you. You quickly reach your hand down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive spot almost to the point that you could start crying out at how painful it truly is at this moment. You’ve never been this sensitive for a man, and yet, you’re coming undone beneath him and nearly losing as much control as he has.

A mess of moans and groans is filling the room as Jay chases his high, and you are at the point that you want to say the nicest and dirtiest things to him out of sheer arousal. So you do, you talk, and you talk. Whispers of “girls would die to be fucked by you,” turn to screams of, “yeah, fuck Jongie, just like that!”

It wasn’t until you moaned out, “Cum with me, now, Jongie, I can’t hold it–” when Jay ’s hips stuttered and his eyes closed tightly in a frustrated groan. “Stop–” He grunts, hips pressing impossibly hard against you. To the point that you scoot up on the table. “Stop, I’m–” He groans again, attempting to pull out so that he can release against your pulsing and empty pussy.

But you don’t let him.

Your legs hold him in place as you release your clit and pull yourself up on your arms just to grab against his neck and pull him down with you against the table.

“Cum in me.” You nearly demand, holding his face so that he can’t look away from you.

You watch the way his pupils dilate more at the words and you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. Then? His pupils are gone. He’s rolling his eyes back now, looking so fucking beautiful while doing it.

Jay’s eyebrows fall much like his mouth does when he cums. His hips are frantic but his face looks calm, and not a single sound releases from his lips. His breath is caught in his throat with each twitch, shooting ropes into you so deeply that you feel each wave of his pleasure hitting your cervix.

You’re very quick to rub your clit again, harsh and rough circles being amplified by the way his abdomen adds pressure to your hand with each push of his cock in you. It sends you over edge so fast, even he feels the clench, choking out each spurt of his remaining orgasm.

You grab onto him harshly now, without a thought in your head besides kissing him. He kisses you back, realizing that despite having sex before, this may be the first time he’s ever made a girl cum. It’s certainly the first time he’s ever felt his cock being tugged by the walls of a pussy as it works itself through an orgasm, anyway.

Crazy thing is…he’s not done. Like, he can’t stop cumming. Lasting entirely far too long and far past sensitivity. Jay opens his eyes to look at you when you’re reaching the end of your own orgasm, all while he’s still filling you up, and even feeling his load bubble out from around him with each tight thrust. Your voice is beautifully raspy, and the way you hold onto him makes him feel like you should never let go.

Upon his ears popping and finally emptied, he genuinely feels the mess between the two of you. Quickly, he pulls back and notes that the hem of his shirt is absolutely fucking soaked. In an attempt to take a small step back in order to remove himself from you, he nearly trips over his pants that had fallen to his ankles.

“Oh.” You laugh, wincing as you feel his cock leave you empty. “Probably should have undressed you.” Your eyes sparkle at the large damp spot, nearly making his shirt entirely see-through from just how soaked it really is.

Jay steps out of his pants silently and just kind of stands there awkwardly, watching the cum spill from you. Then panic spreads across his face.

“Um,” He croaks out, voice cracking almost immediately. “I– I couldn’t pull out…I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want you to.” You soothe him, noting how he’s right back to his awkward and shy persona the moment he’s finished fucking you. “It’s fine, I’m protected” You confirm for him, just to see the relief replace that panic.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“So–” You comment, looking down at the wrinkled papers in front of you. “You really expect me to try and write at least 1200 words tonight?”

Jay tilts his head at you, sitting with a blanket covering his entire body as his clothes go through the cycles of a wash. “If we hadn’t gotten off track, you could already be almost done with it.”

“God, you are such a fucking bore.” You laugh, shivering at the cold air hitting your bare skin. “I’m literally naked right now and you’re making me do this right now?”

“Finish your paper and we can talk about that. Besides, I kind of need to recover for more than thirty minutes from that, you know? I’m sensitive.” He shoots back, not afraid to sound as embarrassing as he truly is now.

To his surprise, you nod with a cheeky smirk. Promising you any amount of him after what happened was enough to force your focus on your school work for now at least. Just because he did it once doesn’t mean he will always want to fuck stupid girls. If anything, Jay deserves someone who respects his work ethic and need to help others right? The huge cock is just a bonus when you think about it.

You know it’s going to be a hell of a month after tonight, but for the most part, you think that studying with Jay may have been your best college decision to date. You can learn a lot from him, and apparently... he can learn from you too. You just hope he doesn’t run off and use that knowledge on other girls once he realizes he’s definitely got the ability to break hearts.

#enhypen smut #jay smut #park jongseong smut #jay park smut #enhypen hard hours

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swe3tte4rs · 9 months

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" My mom is so beatiful! " - Batfamily x Model!Batmom headcanons

Request: Batmom headcanons where batmom’s a model & the coolest mom ever?

Author's note: Thank you anon 🫶! Here is my second request, so I hope you like it. I didn't know what to put for the title so I settled for this one.

And it will also take me a while to upload the Zatanna x reader oneshot 🤗.

Again I clarify that my main language is not English, so sorry for the spelling errors 😿.

TW: nothing!! Just fluff I think

Nightwing / Dick Grayson

Since he met you, he was fascinated with your beauty and elegance.

He loved when you went to galas and you wrapped him up in your long elegant jacket while you picked him up in your arms and let him fall asleep like that.

Dick didn't miss any of your shows or commercials.

I bet he has your older shows saved on his computer.

A model and cool mother at the same time? Wow, Dick couldn't ask for more.

You are his only support, the only one who was there and loved him no matter what.

Dick will always ask your opinion about what he wears or what haircut he will get.

He goes crazy every time he hears someone say "Your mom is hot."

"It's not my fault that my mom loves me and yours didn't love you, fucking slu-"

I feels like he would play with you by imitating your walk just to annoy you.

Always showing off his mother, yesyesyes.

The YJ and Titans members would be very jealous of him; because you treat him very nicely and send him food, without saying that you drown your son with love.

Jason Todd / Red Hood

When he was Robin he was dwarf and plump. I and other people agree 😇

Jason loves the support you give him and keep giving him.

And he also loves your delicious food, he probably asks you to prepare some for him every time he goes out on patrol.

I just imagined him (when he was Robin) bringing you a bouquet of flowers bigger than him once you finish the show, seeing you with those beautiful and big eyes 😭

I bet he sometimes got scared when he saw your face on a commercial billboard.

And he keeps doing it, only he spits out whatever he's drinking when he sees you in TV. (Without him knowing that you participated as a model in X brand)

He loves and continues to love your attacks of kisses on his face.

Yes, he would also ask you for style advice, but only once a year, he is very proud when it comes to his clothing style.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!! HOW DARE YOU HAVE A FUCKING POSTER OF MY MOM?!?!"

Damn Jason, your mom is a model, what do you want them to do?

Tim Drake / Red Robin

He has a love-hate relationship with your love attacks.

Tim, like his other siblings, would not miss any of your shows, or the parts in which you appear.

He would help Barbara to make sure no one wants to sabotage you at one of your shows.

If given the choice between your food or the support you give him, Tim would jump off a bridge. (jk)

"Bro, can you shut the fuck up and stop saying how beautiful my mom is? I already know that."

Tim gets embarrassed every time he is with his friends and you call him (by phone XD), because you start reminding him that he is very handsome and he need to eat something. But it irritates him more when his colleagues ask to talk to you.

Damian Wayne / Robin

I think he wouldn't care about your job

He's like, the most attached to you.

After your shows he would be attached to you like a flea.

Also at the galas.

Damian was surprised that you were so kind and loving towards him despite the things he said to you before him had that mother and son connection.

I think that at first Talia wouldn't like you, but after several talks with her and assuring her that you're not going to do anything to Damian, you could even be friends.

Oh yes, he wouldn't care about your love attacks, as long as it's not in front of his friends.

"Yes mom, yes I ate the food... Yes, I know you love me. *sighs* I love you too mommy..."

You're like Jon's second mom.

His favorite days are pool or beach days, he likes to enjoy the sea while spending time with his mom.

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

Cass is the vice president of your fan club.

Cass loves you infinitely.

She has an album full of photos of you and her after the shows.

She doesn't like the idea of you parading in swimsuits.

She would always ask you for clothing tips and advice.

Cass likes, loves, and admires having a mother who understands her and can be herself with her.

She wouldn't care if you show her love in public or private. She always gives you more love back!

Skincare routine between you and her.

You always make sure that she is fashionable but also has her own style.

She would have a lot of admiration for you.

I feel like she would hardly take any notice of "your mom is hot" because she thinks they are flattery.

But if they go overboard and insult you, Cass wouldn't hesitate to give them a good beating. Nobody messes with her mommy.

I think she would have you as her wallpaper. A photo of you and her on your birthday or on her birthday.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

She is the President of your fan club.

Throughout the parade she is like "how boring, I want to leave" until you finally appear, it doesn't matter if the outfit you wore is ugly, she would applaud you with all her might.

"WHY DID YOU AGREE TO DO A BIKINI COMMERCIAL?!?!"

I feel like she gets angry every time anyone tell her "she's super hot" (you), and Steph is like "the nosebleed I'm going to give you is going to be hot."

Every time she sleeps over at the mansion she joins you and Cass's skincare routines.

She loves you because every time you talk there is some laughter.

Steph appreciates and adores the support you give her as a mother figure.

You rarely have love attacks towards her.

But she adores them.

Every chance she would go shopping with you.

Duke thomas / The Signal

Just let me...

Duke is your photographer.

He had a hard time opening up to you at first, but you were just great and so sweet to him.

He doesn't react like his brothers do when they tell him "your mom is hot", rather he would feel uncomfortable.

Only if they insult you would he get serious.

He likes that you are always there to support him every time he goes out on patrol or comes back from patrol.

You and Duke's connection started when you tried to get him to distract himself from the harsh reality of his biological parents, like going to the park and all that.

He is embarrassed when you have your love attacks towards him. It doesn't matter if you are alone or in public, he will be embarrassed every time you have those love attacks.

I feel that when you go with him to buy clothes, you spend a lot of time because you can't decide what clothes to buy him.

But in the end you end up buying everything for him.

Barbara Gordon / Oracle

Yes, I added Barbara, okay?

In my AU there was no love affair between her and Bruce 😇

The one in charge of making sure everything goes well at the shows.

Sometimes she sees you as her mother, sister and best friend.

Barbara always sends you messages; according to her so as not to lose contact, which is a lie because you know it is purely on a whim.

I don't think you have love attacks with her, just a simple kiss on her cheek or forehead.

Although sometimes she envied the attention you gave to your children.

Barbara would value and care for you deeply.

[You can add more headcanons if you like <3]

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six-eyed-samurai · 2 months

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SUMMARY: It's been some time since your death and yet none of the Hashira still have the heart to remind Muichiro you're gone. A/N: I'm not too sure if the title means what I think it means so let me know if it's wrong...anyways I got the idea from a fic of @oceanxmoonz, so credits! Also you can probably tell I got lazy at the end... WARNINGS: (y/n) is dead. That's it.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Shinobu’s smile was a little faker than before as she turned around to face the expectantly waiting Mist Pillar, who seemed a little upset. She couldn’t answer that quite yet. “Are you looking for them?”

“Yes,” Muichiro said plainly. “I couldn’t find them at all this morning. Or afternoon…have you seen them?”

Was it sadder to watch Muichiro lose his closest friend - if not something more - and grieve about it for a long time after or sadder to watch him forget they were long dead? That they weren’t avoiding him like his amnesia had him think, that they actually couldn’t? He always needed to be reminded and Shinobu didn’t like to be the one to do so.

“Tokito…they died a few months ago, remember?”

“No, they didn’t. Ginko would’ve told me.” His eyes widened, then narrowed angrily. “I don’t think that’s a very funny thing to say, Kocho.”

“But, Tokito-”

“I’ll go find (y/n) myself,” he said abruptly, then walked off.

Of course he came back later with the same question; of course Shinobu’s smile faltered.

***

“…I forgot your name.”

“…”

Muichiro blinked at the stoic Pillar before him. “You’re the…something Hashira, right? I think (y/n) mentioned you. Are they back from both of your mission yet?”

Tomioka hesitated. He was honest but he wasn’t cruel. He knew exactly what Tokito was talking about, knew that he suffered from huge blanks in his memory. He envied the younger Hashira a little, to be able to forget such tragedy - however seeing him constantly wander around wondering where they’d gone was a pitiful sight.

So in the end he decided to evade the question. “Yes. (y/n) came back safely from the mission.”

The Mist Pillar’s eyes lit up. “Thank you. I’ll go find them now.”

Yes, (y/n) came back from their mission together safely. If only the same could be said of the last.

***

“HAR?”

“I said, where’s (y/n)?” Muichiro sighed after his almost shout at the disbelieving Wind Pillar. “Has your mission damaged your ears?”

“You little-” Sanemi checked himself. “I know damn well what it was you said.”

“Okay then, where’s (y/n)? I found this flower I wanted to show them.”

The older man’s mouth fell open, probably to harshly remind Tokito for the fifth time that month that who he was looking for was long dead and gone. Then it closed again.

Sanemi was not a soft man, evidenced by his scars, shouts, and treatment of his younger brother. But at the end of the day his intentions, though misguided, were what he wanted best for everyone. It was a tragic world out there and whether his next words were going to exacerbate it he would accept the consequences whole-heartedly - no one would fault him for not wanting to bring the poor kid back to shattering reality either, right?

“Probably out on another mission. You can’t keep hogging them to yourself, Tokito.”

“That’s odd…I thought they just came back…”

“Yeah, well, demons don’t wait for anyone!” Sanemi barked. Sadly, too true.

***

“Oh, Tokito…!”

“…Kan-something-san?” Muichiro’s face twisted in confusion as the pink-haired lady threw herself at him crying, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Mitsuri straightened and wiped at her face, plastering a bright but trembling smile for the younger Hashira.

Muichiro blinked. “Okay. Have you seen (y/n)? I just got back from a mission but I can’t find them.”

“…perhaps they’re busy?” Mitsuri swept the tears on her cheeks again. “Don’t worry, I don’t think they’d ignore if they had a choice, Tokito!”

“Oh…alright then.” Muichiro drifted off, readily accepting Mitsuri’s story despite the obvious holes for lack of better explanation.

Mitsuri bit her lip, guilty at her lie. Every day Muichiro would approach with the same question and every day someone or some way it would be broken to him that (y/n) was long gone but as terrible as it made her feel Mitsuri never wanted to be the one who did it.

He’d found the love she’d always been searching for. Unfortunate one didn’t survive for long.

***

“Young Tokito! Are you looking for someone?!”

“You’re really loud…” Muichiro tilted his head. “Have you seen (y/n)?”

Tengen and Rengoku shared a look - the Sound Pillar broke the pause first. “Tokito, don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?” Muichiro’s attention span was already running out. “I think I saw them today but I can’t remember where.”

“You couldn’t have seen them,” Tengen starts again, for it’s not the first time the Mist Pillar has mistaken someone else for (y/n). “They’re-”

“Oh, right…at the Butterfly Mansion, I think. Thanks for…helping?” Muichiro left and the two Pillars glanced at each other again.

“Who’s gonna tell him? He can’t keep walking around thinking they’re still alive. That’s just cruel.”

“But if he remembers his spirit will be beyond crushed - you remember how he was when he first found out. For now, when we need to be most vigilant, perhaps we should let him be!”

Rengoku’s voice carried a tremor of uncertainty, however.

***

“I saw Kanroji and you talk a few days ago. Did you make her cry?” Obanai glowered menacingly at the deadpan Mist Pillar.

“No? She was crying?”

“Yes!” Kaburamaru hissed with his owner.

“Oh…right. Now I remember. I didn’t make her cry.” Muichiro looked up. “At least I don’t think so?”

Obanai resisted the urge to slap his hand on his forehead. He leaned in clsoer. “Why was she crying?”

“I have no idea,” Muichiro said, leaning back. He brightened. “Oh, right. I was asking about (y/n).”

“(y/n)?” Obanai stiffened but took a step back. “Oh. I see.”

“Which reminds me…I wanted to go see her after our sparring, but I don’t know where they are.”

The Serpent Pillar and his snake shifted uncomfortably. “You’ll find them.”

Not really. Obanai hoped for the sake of his comrade that he’d forget he’d already asked the question and not stumble upon (y/n)’s grave.

***

Himejima too cried.

It didn’t really make sense to Muichiro, but he let the oldest Hashira lay a hand on his shoulder and say some prayers. He didn’t really pay attention to the wording but he caught his name and (y/n)’s.

It was safe to assume the Stone Hashira didn’t know where they were so Muichiro bid him goodbye (or at least he thought he did) and set off to go find them himself. From behind the trees one Shinazugawa Genya watched him go before joining his master’s side.

“Why isn’t anyone telling him?” Genya couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose someone so close to you, someone to love and care for, and not even remember when they were no longer there.

“Some things must be found out by himself.”

“Isn’t it unfair to (y/n)’s memory if Tokito doesn’t remember?”

“I’m sure (y/n) will understand…they were very patient with him. They will understand that he needs to take his own time in coming into terms with…”

“Coming into terms?” Genya’s frown deepened. “You mean it’s not just his memory thing?”

“Grief and denial are strange things.”

***

“Where are you, (y/n)?”

Muichiro knelt down by the headstone, dropping the bouquet next to him. “I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. I’m sorry I forgot about you for so long.”

He takes a deep breath and begins to tell about his day, like he’s been doing every day ever since he regained his memories after that fateful fight at the Swordsmith Village and befriending Tanjiro. He thinks they’d like this version of him much more.

“The demons have been awfully quiet lately,” Muichiro mused. “They say Kibutsuji’s planning something. They’re probably all out to get Nezuko. A big all out war’s going to be coming, I think, and I’m sorry I won’t be able to visit when that happens. So I’ll come more often now.”

He dusted off the stone, staring sadly at the inscription. “I’ll kill the demon who got you. I promise.”

At the price of his own life, (y/n) knew, sitting invisibly next to him, crying transparent tears but he wasn’t to know that.

#Sunny's Works #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito x reader #muichiro x y/n #muichiro tokito x y/n #muichiro x you #kny x reader #muichiro tokito x you #muichiro angst #muichiro tokito angst

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sadesluvr · 2 months

Text

By Your Side

Sometimes you don't realise how much Bruce needs you.

A/N: Title based off the song by Sade! The Sade/Nirvana song choice is just to show your different personalities...We love needy, loverboy Bruce :3 Minors/Ageless blogs DNI!

Word count: 2.6K

“Master Bruce is in his usual spot, I’m sure you’re aware.”

“I know... Thank you, Alfred. Take care of him for me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. You go and have fun...And might I say you look stunning as ever, Miss.”

You flashed Alfred another smile, kissing his cheek before you left in search of your boyfriend – Bruce Wayne, and The Batman himself. From the moment you’d began dating, Alfred had been nothing but kind to you, to the point that you saw him as a father in-law rather than your boyfriend's butler. Granted, it was easy for him to trust you; you’d been in all the same circles as the Wayne’s growing up and had even gone to school with the boy himself, hence a mutual understanding of what each other needed.

Bruce wasn’t that much of a public figure; you kept your relationship hidden (as much as possible). Wayne Enterprises sometimes needed good PR; you were more than happy to step in. Yes, there was a business side, but there was also a lot of love, and it was perhaps that innate trust and understanding that propelled the man to reveal his identity to you. You hadn’t run, screamed, questioned or cried: merely accepted and moved on.

Tonight was one of those nights; a charity gala was to be held, and somebody needed to make a public appearance.

You’d been into the Batcave many times. It wasn’t your favourite place in the building; it was a little cold and lacked the classic feel of the Gothic architecture in the main tower, but you found yourself strangely comfortable in it. Probably because it was Bruce’s space, and you felt like you knew him on a deeper level.

Goosebumps peppered your skin as you entered the floor, heels making a distinct clicking sound as you walked in, stopping halfway. As always, the man was glued to his screen, and you thought it best not to disturb him. No matter how nice you looked.

“I’m heading out. The chauffeur’s going to be here in twenty.”

Bruce pursed his lips, slowly withdrawing his gaze from the screen to glance up at you, his brows furrowing slightly as he gave you a once over. Even with the hair in his face, you could tell that there was a flurry of emotions within his wet blue eyes; disappointment, annoyance...intrigue.

“...Tonight? Why?” he said, his voice soft and shaky.

“Because I have to,” you sighed, a small smile on your face as you shifted your weight. Bruce was far from being a child, but sometimes he walked the line between being an eight-year-old, and an angsty teenager, something that you were more than understanding about given his life circumstances. “It’s for charity. I’m also going on your behalf.”

He seemed uncomfortable at this; blinking as he diverted his gaze back to his screen, eyes roaming the pixelated words and images absentmindedly before turning back to you, jaw tight and ticking.

“It’s not safe.”

“Alfred took care of all the transport,” you said matter-of-factly. “There’ll be lots of people there. I couldn’t get kidnapped if I tried.”

Bruce didn’t laugh. You should’ve anticipated that.

Sighing, there was a distant smile on your face as you got closer, placing your hand on his own and giving it a small squeeze. His hands were a little cold and slightly calloused, and you tenderly rubbed his knuckles with your thumb, careful not to agitate him with your rings.

“Would you feel better if you drove me?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he said, his voice stern, but his. “Not tonight. If people know you’re with me it only makes you more of a target.”

Removing your hands from his own, you took a deep breath and sighed, swiping your tongue over your bottom lip in frustration. God knew you loved Bruce, but God also knew he was stubborn; way too stubborn for his own good. The rational side of you knew that it was because of his trauma, but in the moment you didn’t feel like coddling him.

Great, now you’d ruined your makeup.

You were going to fix it, and then you were going to the gala.

“That’s too bad, Bruce.” Was all you said before you disappeared, spinning on your heels as you strutted out of the room without as much as giving him a second glance.

You could feel his impenetrable gaze on your back as you did, either cursing you out in his mind, fantasising about you, or somewhere in between. The lighting of the Batcave was perhaps a little too dim to see the entirety of your dress anyway.

Strolling into the bathroom, you switched on the light before taking a glimpse at yourself in the mirror. There were hints of condensation along the mirror and bath tiles from the shower you'd taken earlier, the faint smell of your oils and body lotions sticking to the fibres of the hand towel.

You picked up a cloth and hastily wiped at the glass, just enough so that you could see your face and the outline of your body. Gently, you ran your fingers over your hips and waist, trying desperately to smooth out the material before you rummaged in your makeup bag, pulling out the liner and running it over your lips. The precision in which you performed the ritual told you that you were perhaps more interested in the aesthetics of it all, rather than the actual charity itself.

It was a transaction really – and in truth you had the same mindset as all the other rich Gothamites. You may have been dating the heir to the Wayne throne, but were an ambassador first, and that meant appearances had to be made. It kept the business happy, and Bruce too, leaving him free to do his vigilante shit as much as he pleased.

Once you were happy with how you looked, you gave yourself a once over, contemplating whether you should go for another spritz of perfume, only to be interrupted by Bruce himself. He’d poked his head inside the doorway, watching your motions from behind.

Catching his eye in the mirror, you relaxed your shoulders and spun to lean against the edge of the sink. He took that as a sign to come in, closing the door behind him with two fingers as he did, glassy eyes roaming your body before focusing on your face. The muggy air of the bathroom seemed to catch up with him instantly; his black strands frizzy and unbridled, some clinging to his forehead in the process.

To an outsider, one would’ve never been able to tell that this was a happy, healthy couple – friends from the same tax bracket – let alone Bruce Wayne, one of the richest men in the city. He was wearing one of his muted t-shirts with sweatpants to match, and looked a little spent, stubble around his chin and bags under his eyes; whilst you were dressed as if you were ready to walk a fashion show in Milan.

But you were fine with it. In fact, you rather liked it.

“Are you here to apologise?” you said matter-of-factly, smirking as you folded your arms over your chest.

“That’s a nice dress,” Bruce said, ignoring your statement. “Where’d you get it?”

“I bought it. It was on auction.”

“Why didn’t you let me pay for it?”

“Because if I told you what it was for, I wouldn’t be wearing it now.”

Bruce hummed, nodding his head as he diverted his gaze before looking back at you. He took a step, outstretching his hand to run his fingers along the fabric, tracing the shape of your body as he did. The act, though small, sent a chill down your spine, as if you were being touched by him for the first time.

He always seemed to have a way with his actions; they were gentle and somewhat apprehensive, but they always had intent. Your eyes fluttered shut as he buried his face in your neck, his hairs tickling your bare skin as he eventually pulled you into a hug. Momentarily, you remained still, listening as his breaths steadied before you touched him back, wrapping your hands around his waist.

There was a soft whistle that came from his nose as he embraced the scent of your perfume, and soon his pout became an imperceptible smile – to you, at least, who was faced away from the mirror. You always managed to bring him a sense of comfort; a grounding reality to the mania of his double life.

His grip on the small of your back tightened as he spoke into your ear, voice somewhat muffled.

“I need you...” he crooned. “Stay.”

“Bruce...” you sighed. “The driver --”

“Forget about him,” Bruce insisted, maintaining his grip on you as he angled his head to look at you. His pink lips were wet and parted, and his eyes were wide. “Stay with me. Please.”

Perhaps it was the lighting, but he seemed less grumpy and instead soft, almost like a boy who didn’t want to be left on his first day of school. Sighing, you scanned his features as you cupped his cheek in your hand, feeling the eagerness to step out in front of the cameras and into a grand hall filled with socialites indescribably slip away.

Admittedly, even though you spent a lot of time in the tower, you’d hardly seen Bruce over the past few weeks – whilst you worked tirelessly through the day with PR reps and funders, he did the same at night; in his own way, of course.

You were used to it, and it was a relatively peaceful routine, but sometimes you wondered if tonight was your chance to switch roles; for you to be the woman in black, and for him to ponder about what was happening outside.

You didn’t want to hurt him. That was never the intention.

Rubbing your thumb over his skin, you pursed your lips before pulling him into a gentle kiss, with the man holding your waist in place with his hands, legs and pelvis trapping you between the sink and his body.

Despite your mini dispute, you were immediately in sync, lips intertwined as they danced against each other whilst Bruce’s hands made their way up to the zipper behind you. Skilfully, he tugged at the material, watching as the fabric slowly split apart, undressing you until you were left in your underwear; chest practically bare other than some pasties glued to your nipples.

You cast your gaze to the floor as the dress pooled around your ankles, unable to have a chance at mourning the night you were supposed to have as Bruce cupped your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head to look at him.

“Beautiful.”

He said simply, his blue eyes scanning your features before he began to kiss you again, his lips making their way down your neck and along your collarbone. You laced your fingers in his dark strands, biting your lip as you felt his erection against your bare thigh before tugging at his shirt. He twitched, his resistance coming from the scars that adorned his back; some from your own doing, but most from his nights of vigilante work.

“It’s ok, Bruce,” you said sweetly, squirming against the ceramic. “I want to see you too.”

He cast his gaze to the floor before softly exhaling, peeling off his shirt and discarding it on the floor next to your dress.

Running your fingertips up his spine, you let out a soft moan as he cupped your breasts, his hands uncontrolled as he felt his way along your body, eventually sliding down to your folds and slipping a finger in. He prodded and poked, gently pulling you apart as you coated his fingers with your juices, his lips still on your skin as he began to jerk against you, grinding his erection on your lower torso.

Instinctively, you snaked your hand inside of his sweatpants, giving his clothed cock a few languid strokes before pulling them down by the waistband. Groping at your ass, Bruce lifted you off the sink and onto the adjoining counter, hastily aligning himself with your entrance.

“Bruce...I’m sorry. Forgive me?” you whispered, shutting your eyes as his wet tip prodded at your entrance. It was a rather misplaced, emotional message for such a sexually charged moment, but you found it necessary. Here; with his face in your hands and your bodies just about to become one, there wasn’t a better moment. Coherent words seemed to evade the both of you, but the message was clear – you were by each other's side, always. He knew you were one of the few people who got him, understood him; really, and you knew that deep down, he was just scared.

You were willing to work through that.

It was bliss when he entered you. He’d gone in raw, cock stretching you so perfectly and making you feel whole. He let out a heavy sigh as he savoured the feeling before beginning to roll his hips, murmuring into your neck as he held onto your legs, making sure they stayed apart.

Jostling about, your calves struck the cabinets below ever so slightly as he found a comfortable pace. His breath was hot against your own clammy skin, and he smelt faintly of leather and sweat…which only turned you on more.

Bruce groaned your name, his breaths laboured and ragged as he motioned his hips in and out of you, pelvis colliding with your thighs and producing an obscene slapping sound. He gripped onto your waist, angling your hips so that he could take more of you, desperate to consume you in any way he could. He didn’t want to let go – he couldn’t – your love was just too strong, too womanly to lose hold of.

To some it made him weak, but he felt it gave him balance.

“God…” you whispered, clasping his face in your hands, forcing him to watch you come undone. “Don’t stop…” Bruce’s eyes were half lidded, occasionally flickering down to the small gap that joined the two of you, hypnotised by the way you covered his pink cock in a shiny sheen, with the sex organ virtually disappearing in you.

He nodded, lips wet and parted as you pushed hair from his face, allowing for you to take in his features at his most vulnerable. Even though the room had become steamy, and the lights were slightly obscured, Bruce was as handsome as ever. His usually clenched jaw hung free, and the dark circles around his eyes didn’t look so depressing.

There was just something about intimacy that changed the way you see people.

“B-Bruce…” you crooned, locking your legs around him as you noticed his thrusts becoming sloppier. “Cum inside me…Please.”

He wasn’t going to say no to you, nor was he planning to pull out anyway, especially not tonight. He called your name once more before he began to pant, blue eyes locking with your own as he came inside of you, ropes of his seed filling your pussy to the brim. He was pent up, so desperate that you wondered if his protectiveness earlier on in the night had just been because he was horny.

“I love you…” he whispered, twitching as he came down from his high. “You know that?”

“I do.” You nodded sincerely, words evading you as your chests fell against the others’, still entangled in each-others arms as your eyelids fluttered shut, momentarily focusing on the others’ breaths and gentle caresses on bare skin.

You didn’t care about the dress, or the gala, or the fact that you were going to have to run out for Plan B in the morning – simply the fact that it had been the first time he’d directly said ‘I love you’.

Bruce knew he meant it with all his heart.

#Spotify #florence writes!!#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #battinson smut #battinson x reader #the batman! bruce wayne x reader #robert pattinson x reader

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 6 months

Note

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

#star-mum #my lovely moots #requests #requested #sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus sized reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #dc titans #titans #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

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saltnsugarbear · 11 days

Text

and you say once we're sober, we should just forget (18+)

summary: one time turns into two, two into three, three into four, and so on.. but it means nothing.

title from: "drinking games" by Sophie Cates

word count: 14.3k of filth my loves <3

content warnings: smut MDNI!! alcohol consumption, mentions of recreational smoking, afab genitalia, reader referred to with different pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart), petting/making out, maybe dubcon?? reader has a panic attack, vaginal fingering, angst, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please use condoms), m receiving handjob, cumplay/eating?

side note: edited/beta'd by my beloved olive! who also gave me some ideas for this, give her many smooches! also don't ask me when this takes place, i don't know, i just know they're in college maybe probably

Lip Gallagher has been your best friend since middle school.

He was easily one of the smartest kids in your year, so he was the obvious choice to ask for help on your homework. What you didn't expect was for him to offer to do all of your homework in exchange for cash.

Once you made it clear to him, you wanted to actually be able to do your homework and refused his offer (to his dismay and disbelief). In his finite wisdom he briefly thought you were going to offer a different form of repayment. When it became clear you weren't going to do that either, Lip was kind of at a loss. You both eventually came to the agreement that you would just meet at the library and work there, you being allowed to ask for help on something you didn't understand and him to work on other peoples homework in peace.

This dynamic went on for the two years you were in middle school and evolved once you reached high school. The Gallagher clan welcomed you with open arms when you started coming around more frequently and the dynamic was quickly established to include you in their family. They were sympathetic to your absent family and made sure to make it known you were welcome in their home no matter what. Your acceptance into the family only strengthened your bond with Lip through the years.

Even through shitty girlfriends (on his part) and tragic, almost-relationships (on your part), you had been attached at the hip for it all.

So it felt like a given when he finally decided what college to go to and you followed. It was the natural course of your relationship. One made a choice, and the other followed, no questions asked. That meant you had front row seats to his relationships with Amanda and Helene.

It stopped being your place to comment on Lips sexual relationships when you told him he should stop seeing Karen and when he found out you personally hadn't had a single sexual experience with anyone.

His reaction to your counseling caused a brief rift between the two of you. Lip had been frustrated with the conversation and stopped talking to you. You stopped talking to him for longer because of his decision that you couldn't give him advice, like a friend, simply because you hadn't slept with anyone the way he had.

Eventually, Lip came all but begging on your doorstep.

You never went more than 4 days in a fight. One of you always returned to the other with an apology in tow.

So when it had been a week and a half with no change, Lip started to get antsy. Fiona and Ian had been questioning him about it, and it was grating on his already frayed nerves.

Lip was desperate when it reached two weeks of not hanging out and his siblings asking about you. So, he took the hit to his pride and knocked on your door the night it reached two weeks. Your mom always worked the night rotations which gave you the house to yourself.

When the knock came that night you hoped it was a mistake and someone was knocking on the wrong door, or that they would go away.

They didn't.

Lip was nothing if he wasn't stubborn. So he persists on knocking on your door two more times, each time more aggressive than the last.

Once the third round of knocks stopped, you got up and peeked through the peephole. When you see Lip standing on the doorstep you're almost inclined to not open the door. But the tug at your heart when you see his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and collar pulled up to his ears has you unlocking the door before you can think about it.

"Fuckin' finally..." He mutters when he sees you in the doorway. His nose and cheeks are rosy, making his eyes look brighter. Lip slips inside both you can say anything and you're closing the door behind him out of habit.

"What are you doing here?" You cross your arms as Lip starts to peel off his gloves.

"Needed t'see you.. We need to talk.." He's shrugging off his jacket and tucking his gloves in with it.

You raise your eyebrows at him. He huffs a little and retreats further into the house, placing his jacket on the back of the couch. You have no choice but to follow him, if you want to hear this apology. Seeing Lip begin to fidget makes you nervous.

"I shouldn't- um- I shouldn't of made a- I was a dick." The way you scoff makes Lip glance at you. "It doesn't matter if you've never sleep with someone, I mean- I don't want you to- I don't not want you to just-"

His words make you raise your eyebrows again, he's starting to fumble his way through this apology.

"Whatever. I was a dick, I shouldn't of made such a big deal about whether or not you've fucked anybody. 'S not my business and you were just lookin out f'me. So.... I'm sorry.." He mumbles the last two words just barely under his breath.

Your brow is furrowed as you try and parcel through his apology. You don't get very long before he mutters, "Fuck it.."

Lip gives you very little time to react when he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. Your stomach twists as he brings his thumb to pull gently at your bottom lip. You let him take control of the kiss very easily.

He kisses you needily, eliminating any possible space between you both. You gasp softly into his mouth, grabbing onto Lip's shirt to keep you grounded. Lip's hands make their way from your face down to your hips, gently guiding you around to the other side of the couch.

Lip breaks the kiss to sit down and pulls you to straddle his lap. You bring your hands to rest on his shoulders to steady yourself. The feeling of something hard nudging against your core makes you inhale sharply.

The sharp ache of arousal isn't unfamiliar to you, however you've always had the chance to deal with it by yourself. It was also a feeling you had come to know whenever you would hang out with Lip since the summer.

Lip slides his hands up from where they were resting above your knees to guide your hips to roll over his bulge. The feeling pulls a surprised moan from your mouth that causes him to give you a smug look.

Your face feels flush as you bite down on your lip to keep yourself quiet. He brings his hand up to cradle your face softly, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

"This gonna be okay?" Lip whispers softly.

You nod a bit too quickly, rolling your hips softly to get some form of friction.

"Words, honey," Lip taps your cheek softly with his thumb.

"Yes," You nod again. "Yes, please, Lip."

"So polite," Lip whispers, placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

Lip takes his hand away from your face to take your hand from where it rests on his shoulder to the front of his jeans. He does the work of unbuttoning and unzipping for you, before he guides your hand to his waistband. He's gentle in the way he coaxes your fingers past the elastic and to the base of him.

You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, his hand is firm in the way it manipulates your hand around his shaft.

It's a tight fit in Lip's boxers. With both of your hands on his cock there's not much room to move. Your fingertips barely touch each other when they're wrapped around it that it leaves you a little dumbfounded.

"Can't uh- Can't move my hand..." You whisper, searching his face for some form of guidance.

Lip huffs before he removes his hand from yours. With his hand out of his boxers you have a little bit more wiggle room.

"Gonna have to listen to me for this one..." Lip's voice sounds strained, a flush working it's way up his neck. You nod, adjusting your hand slightly. Lip groans at the feeling and it makes you pause.

The way your eyes widen as you watch him intently has Lip fighting to urge to thrust his hips into your hand.

"Are you- That didn't hurt, did it?" You ask him, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

"Uh-uh..." Lip breathes heavily, shaking his head. "Th-The opposite actually.."

You give an experimental squeeze where your fingers rest against the base of him, watching the way his mouth gapes open and his head falls back against the couch. Watching the way he reacts makes your chest swell with a sense of pride.

To test the waters even more, you move your hand slowly along the rest of him, reaching as far as the fabric of his boxers will let you before going back down to the base.

"Holy shit-" Lip chokes out. "Are y- are y'sure you've never down this before? Oh fuck-"

His hands have moved to gripping the couch cushions as he fights to keep his hips from bucking up into your hand. You nod, taking in the vision of Lip underneath you.

"Just uh- just keep doin, that... And uh.. Move your hand uh up and down it..." Lip mutters, a flush climbing up his neck from under his shirt.

You do as he says, moving your hand down along his cock. The palm of your hand collects the pre-cum that's leaking from the head, smearing it along his shaft as you move your hand back up.

Taking the grunt that Lip lets out as a good sign, you start to quicken your pace. You watch Lip fight back his own moans, softly rutting his hips into your hand.

"Want y'to- to take your thumb and-" Lip inhales sharply. "Take y'thumb and go over the top- fuck- over the head there's a- a slit and-" He cuts himself off with a groan as you follow his instructions.

You collect the pre-cum from the head of his cock and drag it up along him. You watch as his eyes roll into the back of his skull, his neck bared out to you as his head lays back against the cushion.

You're struck with the urge to kiss his neck, to bite softly at the vein along it. You're moving without thinking, licking a stripe along the vein. You can feel the rumble of a groan in his throat.

Encouraged, you bite softly at a spot under his jaw before placing a soft kiss to the spot.

You give an experimental squeeze near the head of Lip's cock, causing him to buck up into your hand. The movement jostles you slightly, making you squeak.

"S-sorry..." Lip pants out. He looks at you through half lidded eyes, his blown pupils surrounded by a thin blue ring. The view makes you adjust your hips slightly.

The way your hand moves feels almost like second nature, picking a pace that has Lip panting and groaning. You try and commit the sounds he's making to memory, wanting to remember them the next time you're by yourself.

It doesn't take you very long to find a combination of movements that has Lip writhing under you. Swiping your thumb over his slit and squeezing the head of his cock softly makes him groan loudly.

It doesn't take too long for Lip to start losing what little restraint he had on himself. He starts thrusting his hips up to meet the movements of your hand, both of you finding a rhythm to move in time.

"Shit- Gonna fuckin'- Can't-" The moan that Lip lets out tears through his chest. His hips give a hard jerk up and you feel the first few strings of his release into your hand. You still your movements, letting him use your hand to work himself through his release.

When you pull your hand from his boxers, you have the overwhelming urge to lick his release off of your fingers. The curiosity of what he tastes like takes over any other thoughts you could have, you can't help yourself.

Lip's chest is heaving as he watches you lick up the expanse of your fingers, collecting his cum off your fingers.

"Holy fuck-" Lip chokes out. He's quick to grab your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth and quickly replacing it with his own mouth.

The taste of nicotine and salt is intoxicating. Lip's tongue invades your mouth, and he groans at the taste of your mouth and his release.

"Gonna be the death of me..." Lip pulls away to kiss the edge of your mouth, letting you catch your breath.

His kisses are a poor attempt to distract from the movements of his hand slipping up your thigh, toying with the edge of your sleep shorts. His thumb slips past the hem, nudging softly up against the wet patch in your underwear.

"Look atcha... Fuckin' soaking from givin' me a handy.." Lip mutters against your skin. He can feel the way your skin warms at the comment and it makes him smirk.

Lip bites softly at your jaw as he applies more pressure with his thumb, the friction of the fabric making you whine.

When he removes his hand briefly you instantly miss the warmth from it. However he's quick to slip his hand past your waistband and into your underwear. The tips of his fingers skirt around your pulsing bundle of nerves, dipping lower slightly to tease you.

He gives your clit the briefest ghost of attention, lightly rubbing circles over it.

"Stop teasin'" You whine, pulling away to pout at him. "'S not nice, Lip.."

Your voice sounds pathetic to your own ears but you're too worked up to care right now. Your words give him whatever encouragement he needs as he dips his hand lower.

Lip swipes his fingers through your folds, thoroughly coating him in your arousal. The feeling of his finger prodding at your entrance makes you breathe in sharply. Lip maintains an intense eye contact with you as he slowly starts pushing his finger past your entrance.

The intrusion makes your jaw drop, just one of his fingers thicker than your own. His lips are soft against your jaw, letting you become accustom to the slight stretch. It's not very long until your softly grinding you're hips into his hand.

Lip takes the silent instruction, starting a steady pace of pumping his finger in and out of you. The first withdrawal and thrust is slow, taking care to make sure you're comfortable with the motions. The small tight circles Lip starts to rub against your clit make you gasp, turning your head to place a soft bite against his cheekbone.

The feeling of more of your slick coats Lip's finger as he continues his slow pace. You can feel the tip of his ring finger softly outlining where your two bodies connect. The gentle prodding makes you moan softly next to his ear. Lip groans softly against your neck in response, reveling in the way your walls clench around his finger. The gentle prodding against your hole makes you squirm into the heel of his hand, biting hard on your lip as he applies more pressure to your entrance.

The feeling of both of his fingers slipping into you makes your mind go blank. You can't help the soft moans escaping your mouth, most of them tapering off into high pitched whines. Once he's knuckles deep you're able to find your voice again.

"Please, Lip. Please, please, please," You're babbling at this point. The feeling of both his fingers makes you dizzy. You don't think that you've ever felt so full.

"Look at ya... Already got y'fucked out..." Lip mutters as he kisses softly at your neck.

His pace starts slow again, allowing your body to adjust to the feeling. The stretch feels impossible, your walls clenching around his fingers when he's knuckles deep inside of you.

Lip grinds the heel of his hand against your clit, applying a pressure that has you rutting into his hand. He resumes a similar pace to the one he had started. Both of your bodies work in tune, matching each other's pace.

You're overwhelmed by it all. The feeling of Lip's fingers thrusting in and out of you, his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit. You're familiar with the knot forming in your stomach, rocking your hips in time with the movements of his hand as you drop your head to his shoulder.

Softly, you trail kisses along Lip's neck. When Lip curls his fingers up against your walls you can't fight the way you bite down on Lip's neck. Above you Lip groans loudly which is enough to have you bucking into his hand as you feel the knot in your stomach unravel.

Lip gently coaxes you through your orgasm, rubbing soft circles against your bundle of nerves. The feeling of your slick slipping out of you as Lip pumps his fingers in and out of you is lewd. You can feel it leaking into your already soaked underwear until his fingers still.

You can't help but whine softly as he slips his fingers out of you. You can feel and hear the movements as Lip brings his hand up to his mouth. The distant ache of arousal reignites in your stomach at the idea of Lip licking your slick off his own fingers.

The both of you sit quietly, catching your breath and collecting your thoughts. Lip's hands move to rest at your hips, rubbing softly at the skin peeking out over your waistband.

"Gotta getcha upstairs," Lip softly pats your ass, making you whine from where you rest against his shoulder.

"Don't wanna.. Mom won't be back till late, anyways..." You bury your face further into Lip's shirt, hoping to convince him to stay on the couch a little longer.

"I know, but gotta get y'taken care of unless you want t'get some sort of infection..." Lip nudges his nose against your hair.

You groan dramatically, slipping off of his lap onto the cushion next to him. "Fine..."

You lead the way upstairs, following Lip's guidance and letting him take you back to your room. He holds you softly, keeping you warm with his own body heat under the covers.

That is the first time Lip tells you it doesn't mean anything.

Lip has not left your side since the two of you walked into this party. He's been attached to your hip the moment the both of you walked through the front door, most of the time keeping a hand on you or within easy reach for him.

Which wouldn't usually be a problem. But usually, he wasn't glowering at every guy who looked in your direction.

"Let's get outta here...." Lip whispers to you, studying the side of your face. He feels impossibly close, facing you with his shoulder against the wall, all you can focus on is the heat his body radiates next to you.

"We just got here?" You shoot him a look before going back to scanning the crowd. People are being stupid and grinding on each other. Everyone is drinking or smoking or doing a mix of both.

"So? Not like we'd be missin' anything.." Lip looks annoyed as he turns to the crowd of people.

Lip had been cranky since you walked in the door. What he was pissed about, you were unsure.

College house parties were commonplace for both of you. One of you would hear about one, and then you'd tag team it.

Lately, you had been receiving more attention from the other party goers. It started with some people complimenting your hair or your outfit, and then eventually, one night, you accidently ran into some guy who barely missed spilling his drink on you. When he looked at your face, he froze with his mouth agape.

"Oh shit... You have really pretty eyes.." His voice is hushed, and you almost struggle to hear him over the music.

You don't have time to process what he's said before you feel Lip's body behind you. "What's goin' on?"

Both you and the stranger are broken out of the moment when you look over your shoulder at Lip.

"Nothin' just ran into him on accident, and he was complimenting my eyes.." You say to him quietly. Lip's brow furrows as he looks at you like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard.

"...Okay..? Let's go, need a smoke.." Lip tugs at the belt loops on the back of your jeans, attempting to not so subtly pull you away from the other guy.

"Lip, you just had one..." You glance at the other guy quickly before looking back at Lip.

"Yeah, well, all these stupid fuckin' kids are makin' me need another so... Come on.." He tugs at the belt loops again, harder this time.

"It's okay, man, didn't realize you came with a boyfriend.. Sorry for runnin' into ya.." The stranger tries to play mediator, backing away from the both of you.

The insinuation that you and Lip are together makes the both of you pull a face.

"He's not my boyfriend-"

"We're not dating-"

The both of you start at the same time and then stop to look at the other. The both of you are having one of those wordless conversations that weirds people out. The kind where you're both minutely shaking your heads or flicking your hands in a certain direction.

"Oookay... I'm just gonna go.... Have a good time y'guys.." The stranger holds his hands up and walks back into the crowd.

As soon as he's gone, you smack a hand against Lip's chest.

"What the hell? Why'd you have to say we're not dating like that?" You hate the way you sound so offended.

"Cause we're not? It's not that big of a deal, sweetheart." Lip huffs and looks around the crowd to avoid your eyes.

"You made it sound like a big deal." You cross your arms over your chest, pouting at him.

"You're the one who said I'm not your boyfriend. I should be the one gettin' offended." Lip looks at you now and bumps his shoulder against you.

You scoff at him, turning to go find yourselves a drink.

Lip stops you, his fingers still intertwined with your belt loops. "Still need that smoke, sweetheart, come on.."

You roll your eyes and concede with a sigh. "Okay, let's go, y'big baby.."

Lip gives you a cocky grin as he slips his arm around you to hoop his fingers in the loops on your side. He keeps you close the rest of that night, never more than an arms length away.

The parties after that have been something of a similar story. Lip never lets you more than a room out of his reach. It would be so obnoxious if you didn't love having him trail you around.

But after a few too many parties being cut short because Lip doesn't want to hang around anymore, you're starting to get a little cranky yourself.

"Lip, if you want to leave, then go. I don't want to leave at fuckin'-" You look down at your watch, noting how early it is. "Ten pm. That's too early. We've been leaving these earlier and earlier, and I'm missing out on free drinks."

"I can get you free drinks, sweetheart. Come on, I got some weed at home we can go smoke.." Lip teases.

"Lip-" You're starting to get annoyed with him.

He cuts you off, sliding himself to stand between your legs, forcing them apart to make room for him. Lip's not one to mind personal space, but having his hips so close to yours is making your brain short circuit.

"Come on, the beer is trashy, and nothin' fun is happenin'.." Lip mumbles, his eyes searching your face. You can feel yourself giving into him. Your resolve always gives out to him.

You groan and push his hip away to stand up straighter. "Okay, Gallagher. Let's go get that weed you promised.."

Lip grins at you as he grabs your hand. "Knew you'd make the right choice.."

You shake your head as he leads you out of the house. Lip guides you out the front door, off the patio and to the alley between the houses. You're both barely shaded by the shadows of the house, Lip turns to you with a smirk.

"Don't actually have any weed, gave it all to Kev before we left... Was just lookin' for a reason to getcha by yourself.." Lip gives you a grin, putting his hands on your hips to guide you back against the house sliding.

"Lip..." You mutter, glancing down towards the street. Anyone could see you both back here.

"Oh, don't get all shy on me now, baby..." Lip teases you.

"Not getting shy... Just don't think it's a good idea for you to fuck me in an alley where anyone can stumble down here drunk.." You whisper, searching his gaze. Surely he cannot be serious about this.

"We'll be quick.. Need to get my hands on ya..." Lip starts to trail kisses along your jaw, moving down to bite softly at your neck. You whine at the attention, tilting your head to give him more access to kiss the skin.

In order to keep from making too much noise and drawing attention to the both of you, you have to stifle yourself by biting on your lip. The feeling is a sharp contrast to the way Lip slides his thigh between your legs and is guiding your hips against him.

You're mind is so fuzzy you don't notice when Lip moves his hand under your waistband, before giving a sharp tug at your underwear. The action makes you squeal at the feeling of the fabric tugging up against your clit.

The sensations have you clenching around nothing, arching your chest up against Lips. He wastes little time moving his other hand from your hip and sliding it up to grope at your chest.

"Dressed so pretty tonight, sweetheart.." He mutters against your skin, placing a soft bite against your collarbone.

The way Lip is tugging your underwear up tightly against your clit as he grinds you against his thigh is dizzying. You have to press your face against his chest in a poor attempt to keep quiet.

"Fuck- Lip-" Your voice sounds constrained.

"Shh, baby, can't have anyone comin' down here, can we?" Lip's breath against your ear is warm and makes your face flush.

You're really letting him have you ride his thigh in an alley. The thought is a little embarrassing but makes you feel warm at the thought of being caught.

You feel the familiar beginnings of a knot forming low in your stomach. Lip slips his hand past your waistband, dipping his finger past your clit to coat his finger in your slick.

The feeling of his fingers rubbing circles around the bundle of nerves makes you whine and buck up against his hand.

"Lip- Fuck- Not gonna- Jesus Christ.." Your voice is strained as Lip works you to your climax. The feeling of your release is like a wave crashing over you, the knot in your stomach unraveling.

Lip kisses you harshly in an attempt to stifle your moans as he gently rocks you against his thigh, guiding you through your release. Your head rests back against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you try and catch your breath. Lip straightens your shirt and fixes your hair. Once you're presentable, he rubs his hands up and down your arms.

Once you've collected yourself enough, you push off the wall, leaning some of your weight against Lip. He's places a soft kiss at your temple, put his hand on your lower back.

"Come on.." Lip gives you a soft pat to your ass. "We have a party to get back to."

The vodka in your system is making you bold. Your screwdriver is more alcohol than orange juice and it's making you feel warm inside despite it being your first drink of the night.

Lip is across the room, flirting with some northside girl in a tacky pushup bra and a low-cut top.

You're pouting into your cup, near the door between the kitchen and den. He hasn't paid attention to you since you both walked through the door, leaving your side almost immediately.

You're lonely, slightly tipsy, and maybe a little horny. It had been a few weeks since you had last hooked up with Lip, making you miss the feeling of his fingers inside of you and his mouth on your skin.

You can tell that the girl across from him is thinking about the same thing with the fuck me eyes she's giving Lip. It makes your mouth twist in disgust from where you watch. Something makes you push off the wall you were leaning on and your legs begin to carry you towards him.

The girl sees you first as you approach, her eyes flicking to you behind Lip's shoulder before they go back to his face. You barely fight the urge to throw your drink at her.

You reach out to tug on the back of Lip's shirt, bumping your shoulder against his as you stand beside him. He glances at you briefly before he turns his attention back to the girl.

"Lip..." Your voice is whiny the same way a child's would be. "Let's go... 'm bored and want t'go home..."

"Can't you walk yourself home?" Lip tries to brush you off, his annoyance slipping into his tone. "'S not even 11 yet.."

The way his gaze flicks to the girl behind you makes your stomach twist and tears threaten to well up in your eyes.

"You're bein' mean, Lip.." You pout, holding your cup close to your chest. You look down, trying to prevent yourself from crying over something so small.

The way Lip breathes out through his nose tells you he's fighting back an exasperated groan. The action makes you pout at him, forgetting about the audience to your conversation.

"We always go when you wanna go, Lip.. You're not bein' fair..." Your voice is quiet as you try and convince him to leave with you. It's not going to take much more, you can tell by the look in his eyes.

"Please, Lip," You whisper, looking down at your feet. "Wanna go home now..."

You can tell when he makes up his mind. He sighs and then nods, before he takes your cup out of your hand and sets it on the small table a few feet from him.

"Sorry," He mutters to the girl before he grabs your wrist and starts to lead you out of the house.

On your way out, you spot a closet big enough to fit the both of you. Lip grunts in surprise when you grab him by his bicep and drag him towards it.

It's mostly empty, save for a few jackets hanging along the edges. You close the door behind you and push Lip up against it. He looks surprised that you're taking control.

You waste very little time connecting your lips with his. Lip lets you set the pace, which is a heavy one. You slip your hands under the hem of his shirt, hooking your fingers against his waistband to pull his hips flush against your own.

Lip places his hands on your hips, rubbing a thumb over the skin peeking out from under your cropped shirt.

"Please..." You say against his lips. You take Lip's hand and guide it to the button of your jeans. You're embarrassed to admit how badly you want his fingers.

"What was that baby? Don't think I caught that..." Lip teases you as he pulls back from you. The whine you let out only eggs him on. "Can't give you what you want if you don't tell me.."

"Lip.." You whine, guiding his fingers past the waistband of your underwear.

"Gotta tell me what y'want, y'know that... Gotta be a big kid and use your words..." Lip brings his hand up to hold your chin when you start to pout at him.

Your face is flushed as he studies you.

"Want you t'fuck me with your fingers..." You mutter, tugging at his waistband.

"Don't think I heard that one, honey." Lip taps your cheekbone with his middle and ring fingers.

You sigh through your nose before opening your mouth. The moment you do, Lip slips his fingers into your mouth and presses down against your tongue. The intrusion makes you whine as you feel arousal pool in your underwear.

"Getcha to quit whining, finally.." Lip whispers before he starts kissing along your jaw. "Should keep y'like this, two fingers in y'mouth and two in your cunt?"

The filth coming out of his mouth is making you dizzy. You're pliant enough that Lip switches your position, putting your back against the closet door.

He slips his two fingers out of your mouth before quickly replacing them. Lip wastes little time shoving his hand past your waistband, running his already wet fingers along your slit.

"Jesus Christ, baby," Lip mutters. "Already fuckin' soaked, didn't even need my fingers in y'mouth."

The feeling of the tips of his fingers pushing into you makes you inhale deeply. It's filthy the way he's slowly filling you with his fingers, two already in your mouth. Lip groans as you run your tongue in between his fingers.

The moan you release when he's sheathed to his knuckles is muffled but loud enough you're slightly embarrassed. You can feel a flush climbing up your skin as you rut your hips against Lips' hand.

The slow pace he starts is agonizing. Lip makes sure you're writhing in your place before he even thinks about speeding up his fingers. His hand is positioned in such a way that the heel of his hand is rubbing against your clit perfectly.

He's stopped kissing your jaw, seemingly content watching your face as he fucks you. Taking in the way your body responds to him.

It doesn't take long for you to feel the familiar sensation of a knot forming low in your belly. You know when Lip feels your walls clench around his fingers by the way he picks up his pace. That mixed with the way he crooks his finger along your inner wall has you rocking in time with his ministrations.

Lip removes his fingers from your mouth, making you gasp. You're panting like a dog in heat. He lets you catch your breath for a moment before he's kissing you roughly. It's messy enough Lip breaks away from your mouth to place open mouth kisses along your neck.

He times it perfectly. Placing a bite against your pulse and pressing his fingers on the soft spot along your walls. The knot snaps and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans.

Lip continues to place soft bites and kisses along your neck as he helps you through your orgasm, slowly pumping his fingers in and out to prolong the feeling.

Your legs are shaky as you lean your head forward against Lip's chest, taking in ragged breaths that make your own chest heave. When Lip removes his fingers from you and slips them out of your underwear you can't help but whine at the loss of warmth.

You can feel the way the muscles in his chest move as he turns slightly, finding something for him to wipe his hands on to clean them up.

"Wanna go home now?" Lip whispers in your ear, your forehead still pressed against his chest. You nod, pressing your face into his shirt.

Lip huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm over your shoulder, "Let's get you home, diva.."

"Shut up," You mutter. "You're just as bad.."

Lip scoffs before he places a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You're not wrong, but neither one of you wants to face that truth. The truth that you have a claim on the other.

The sound of something hitting your window is what wakes you. At first, you think that you had made it up. However, when you hear it again, this time wide awake, you know you didn't make it up.

Your clock reads 1:45 am, and you know there is only one person who would be throwing rocks at your window this late. So, with very little choice, you get out of bed and cross to your window, opening your curtains and pulling up your blinds.

True to your guess, Lip is standing outside of your apartment building. When you lift open your window, you're met with warm air coming into the room. Lip is standing in the grass dressed in ratty jeans and a tank top, smoking a cigarette like it wasn't almost 2am, and he wasn't risking waking up the tenants around you.

"Gonna let me up?" He calls up, not caring to be quiet.

"Climb up, fuckin' Rapunzel." Your voice is quieter but he hears you well enough.

Lip scoffs and starts his scaling of the wall trellis. The landlord should get that removed, but you're thankful they haven't. Once he's closer is when you back up from the window and make sure nothing is in his way for him to trample.

"You would be Rapunzel, sweetheart.." Is the first thing he says when he gets inside. He stubs out his cigarette on the windowsill and toes off his shoes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.. You smell like vomit.." You're bluffing. He smells like smoke and the fancy sandalwood cologne he was gifted by one of his rich exes. The mix of smells makes your stomach flip. It's so distinctly Lip Gallagher.

You can see the glimmer of mischief in his eye before he moves. The look doesn't register for you immediately, so you're too slow to dodge him when he launches at you.

Lip throws all of his body weight towards you, so when he collides with you, you're sent backward towards your bed. He lets himself go limp against you, causing you to fall back onto your mattress, Lip sprawled over the top of you.

You feel breathless with Lip laying on top of you. The smell of him is near overwhelming.

"Get off, you complete bum.." You try and get your hands under him to push him off. Lip hums and nuzzles his face into your neck.

"Mm-mm... Don't think I will, actually p'comfortable right here.." Lip punctuates the sentence with a kiss to your cheek.

You groan in faux annoyance and shift your hips under him in an attempt to try and flip you guys over.

"Mmm- Don't do that.." Lip mutters into your skin.

"Do what?" You furrow your brow, adjusting your hips once more.

Lip groans quietly and slowly starts placing kisses to your neck.

"Oh.." The feeling of his lips brings your attention to the precarious situation you're both in. Lip continues his motions, the kisses slowly becoming more harsh against your skin.

"We should- oh god-" Lip bites right under your ear, his hands are everywhere. "Lip.. We r-really shouldn't.."

Lip hums in response as he starts placing kisses down your neck. He's really going for gold to ensure you can't think. Lip situates his thigh between your legs. His hands are all but guiding your hips to grind against him.

You move your hands from his biceps to his jaw and guide his face back to yours. Lip mistakes your intentions of this and starts placing sweet kisses on your lips. You can taste the cheap beer on his breath, and it makes your stomach knot.

"Lip..." You manage to slip past his fleeting kisses. You grab his face again and pull him away to look at him. Lip's eyes are hooded; he looks nearly cross-eyed when he looks back at you.

"We shouldn't." You say it much more firmly without his mouth on you. That doesn't stop his hands, though, as he keeps guiding you to softly grind over his thigh, only using enough pressure to keep you chasing more.

"Why not, baby?" Lip moves his face and kisses the palm of your hand. He knows deep down that if you meant any of this, you'd push him away that you would have been harsher in your words.

"Because you're drunk.." You try and reason with him. You're grasping at straws to try and keep this from being another dash of salt in the wound.

"'M not drunk.... just a little tipsy.." He places another kiss to your palm, and another to the inside of your wrist.

"That's enough to know that we shouldn't." It feels like you have to choke the words out around the emotions in your throat.

"Please, baby.. Need you so bad.." Lip ruts his hips against your hip. You can feel his erection through his jeans, and it makes you squirm a little.

"Lip.." You sigh out. You can feel your resolve slipping, and you're pretty sure Lip can tell.

"Please, baby, please... Won't ask for anything else after this.." Lip shakes his head a little and shifts his thigh to rub up against your core. You let out a moan at the friction, and Lip seizes the moment to kiss you.

It's sloppy, the way Lip slips his tongue into your mouth. You don't try to fight for dominance, letting him explore your mouth at his leisure. Lip brings one of his hands up to grope at your chest, causing you to arch into him.

"Lip..." You breathe into his mouth, causing him to groan above you. You feel your heart begin to ache, knowing what will come tomorrow morning once he's sobered up.

You've been in this position before. Sometimes, you've both had something to drink, sometimes you're both completely sober. It always comes to the same conclusion. Lip tells you it was a mistake, that it can't happen again. He tells you it was a matter of convenience, that you happened to be there when he needed an outlet.

Thankfully, you've never let him get you naked. That was your one saving grace and your biggest regret.

There was one time, maybe the third or fourth time, that Lip was bare beside you. He convinced you to spend the night at his house, in his bed, after a late night out. When you had both gone to bed, there seemed to be no intention of anything happening. You had fallen asleep tucked into Lip's side like you did most of the time.

The next morning, however, you woke up to Lip climbing into bed behind you. You could smell the shampoo and soap on his skin. When he started placing kisses along your shoulder, you could feel his wet curls brushing your skin. You could also feel his arousal against your back.

His kisses trailed up your neck, to your ear where he nipped at your skin in hopes of drawing out a reaction. The gasp that left your lips was involuntary and you could feel his smirk against your skin.

"You awake, baby?" One of his hands slips over your hip to toy with the front of your waistband. "Was thinkin' about you earlier.."

Lip ended up dedicating that morning to getting you off with only his fingers. In the back of your mind you knew that if you turned around to look at him, you'd see all of him. But he kept you too distracted to put more than a fleeting thought into it. However, you also knew he was getting himself off. You could feel the movements against the mattress as he fucked into his hand behind your back.

It was an unspoken rule you never saw each other bare in these moments. It would make it too intimate, too real.

So tonight wouldn't be an exception, you knew, when Lip slides his hand from your chest downwards to undo the string of your pants.

"Need to know you want this too, baby...." Lip whispers into your mouth, sliding his thumb along the skin above your waistband. "Need words..."

He always asks. Lip always asks, always needs to hear a yes before he goes any further, and it makes your chest ache even more.

When you simply nod, Lip huffs before he pulls back from you. He brings the hand that had been rocking your hips, up to your face and tugs your bottom lip down with his thumb.

"You know the rules, honey... Gotta hear words.." His eyes feel more piercing than they usually are.

Except you didn't know the rules. You thought you did but he always ended up changing them. He was like a child, bending and changing the rules to his whims.

But you're nodding, anyway.

"Uh-huh.. Yes.. Yes, please.." Your voice sounds so whiny, and if Lip wasn't slipping his hands down your pants the moment he heard a yes, you'd have cringed at yourself.

He wastes no time pushing past your underwear, slipping his fingers down and coating them in your arousal. The sound that comes out of Lip's mouth is a rough mix between a moan and a laugh.

"Playing coy and look 'attcha... Soaked through your underwear, honey.." Your hips buck into his hand when he nudges your clit with his thumb. He watches with a smirk as your face flushes as he calls you out.

"It’s not th-" You're cut off in a silent moan when Lip slips his middle finger inside of you. The look on his face is smug, and you want to wipe it off.

Trying to maintain some of the same footing as him, you slip one hand between your bodies and weave the other into his curls. With the hand between the two of you, you press firmly against the bulge in his jeans. The way he bucks into your hand is unrestrained, and it makes you grin up at him.

You've both always been competitive, so it quickly devolves into 'who can get the other to come quicker.' You make quick work of the button of Lip's jeans and slip your hand into his boxers.

The way he groans when you wrap your hand around the base of him makes your chest swell with a sort of pride. Your movements are constrained by his boxers but Lip is more than happy to fuck himself into your hand.

"God, sweetheart, soo fuckin' wet already... Didn't even do nothin'..." Lip says as he goes in to kiss you. He groans against your mouth when he starts to work in a second finger, "Need you to relax, like a fuckin' vice.."

Lip circles a thumb over your clit, coaxing your body to let him slip his fingers further into you. Once he's up to the knuckle, your hips buck forward until you're all but riding his fingers.

Lip's grinding himself into your hand, pumping his fingers in and out of you in time with his own thrusts. The rhythm of his fingers has you tugging on his hair gently.

"Think- Christ- Think y'can take another- Fuckin' hell..." Lip's voice sounds strained as your walls clench around his fingers.

Lip has only ever given you three fingers once. The feeling of two already makes you feel so full. The idea of a third sounds impossible.

You start shaking your head. You truly don't think you can take a third finger.

"Don't- Oh my god- Don't think so-" Your voice is whining as he curls his fingers up against your walls. Lip tsk's at your response, kissing the edge of your mouth.

"Think you can baby- Fuckin' hell-" He swears as you tighten your grip around him. Your hand is lazy as you start jerking him off again. The movements are constrained in his boxers as you shift your wrist to run your thumb over his slit.

Lip groans as he pushes his nose against your cheek.

"Fuck- How- How are we gonna get you ready to take my cock if you can't take another finger- Christ.." You squeeze him closer to his head and he can't fight the way he bucks into your hand. His words make you feel dizzy as you whine at the feeling of his thumb against your clit.

The feeling of him pulling out to the tips of his fingers, only to add a third, makes you gasp. Lip takes the opportunity to kiss you, exploring your mouth.

He feels like he's everywhere. Your whole being is taken up by him.

Lip moans into your mouth at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers. His pace is slow when he begins, ensuring your body has adapted to him inside of you.

He's grinding his hips against your thigh, fucking into your hand and matching his pace to the way his fingers are thrusting into you. The kiss turns messy as you whine into his mouth. When you pull away from him to catch your breath, Lip moves down to kiss and nip at your jaw.

"Fuck- Lip-" You can feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten as he brushes against the spongy spot along your walls. Lip knows the way your body responds well enough by now that he starts rubbing tight circles against your clit.

"Come on, baby.. Come on.." Lip mutters against your skin.

The feeling on his fingers curling against your walls and his thumb against your clit makes you dizzy. The feeling of him biting under your ear combined with the way he's fucking you is enough for the knot in your stomach to break.

You use the hand that's been tugging on his hair to bring him into a kiss, trying to stifle the sound of your moans while he works you through your orgasm. The feeling of his hips rutting against you is only slightly quicker than the way he's working you with his fingers.

The tug you give at his hair is rougher than usual, but it's enough that he groans into your mouth and his hips stutter against you. Lip's breathing is heavy as he gives a few more weak thrusts against your thigh. You remove your hand softly, making sure to keep the mess away from your sheets and Lip's clothes.

The feeling of Lip slipping his fingers out of you makes you whine, mourning the loss of being full. He kisses your temple softly as a way of apologizing. You watch him with tired eyes as he uses his own mouth to clean off his fingers.

The sight is enough to reignite the fire in your belly.

Once he's done, he lays down beside you, collecting himself again. Catching his breath and making sure he's breathing normally again.

After Lip has caught his breath, he gets off the bed and rifles through your dresser before he leaves the room.

You take the time to get up and wipe off your hand with a tissue from your desk. You quickly change out of your bottoms, putting on a new pair of underwear and a pair of sleep pants.

Once you're cleaned up, you turn off the lamp on your nightstand and climb into bed. You're hoping that the quicker you're under the covers, the later you'll feel the anxious shame in your stomach. You've adopted the idea that it'll be easier to face it in the dark.

It never is.

The knot in your stomach feels tighter when Lip climbs into bed with you. He's lost his shirt and jeans somewhere between your room and the bathroom. The weight of his arm wrapping around your midriff makes you want to squirm out of your skin.

"G'night.." Lip whispers into your hair as he settles behind you, keeping your back to his chest.

"Night.." You choke out.

As Lip drifts off behind you, you prepare yourself for tomorrow, when Lip reminds you it was just a mistake.

It means nothing.

You try and enter the Gallagher house as quietly as you can. Which is not very quiet with Lip right behind you and a few drinks in both of your systems.

Your foot catches on a stray shoe near the back door that sends you tumbling into the bathroom door. Lip snickers behind you as he kicks the shoe away.

"Shhh..." You hush him, turning around and placing a finger to your lips. Your childish antic makes Lip smirk as he closes the door behind him.

Lip helps you stand up straighter, guiding you towards the stairs with a hand on your hip.

He looks particularly pretty in the orange glow bleeding in through the kitchen window. Before you take the first step up, you place a kiss on Lip's cheek. Then, a soft bite at his jaw. You've barely made it up the first three stairs before Lip has you crowded up against the wall, his chest to your back.

"Need ya to be quiet... Think you can do that? Yeah... Think you can do that.." Lip whispers right under your ear as he kisses your neck.

One of his arms braces himself against the wall beside your head as the other one snakes around to your front and toys with your waistband.

You already know what he's asking.

"..Yes, God yes..." Your voice is hushed and whining as you nod quickly. Lip wastes no time before his hand dives into your underwear and he grinds his erection against your ass.

As Lip slides his fingers over and past your clit, he starts placing kisses into your hair and any part of your face he can get to.

At the same time as he slips his middle finger inside of you, he places a gentle bite against your jaw. The dual sensations make you groan, which you fight to stifle.

The way he's pumping his finger in and out of you is making you whine. When he slips in a second, it gets worse.

His presence is all-encompassing, with his back against you and the way he's biting at your neck and shoulder. You don't bother fighting the way your hips move in time to meet the movements of his fingers.

Lip's hips match the way he's thrusting his fingers in and out of you, and you can't get enough of it. When he starts rubbing circles on your clit it makes you gasp.

The pace he sets is unforgiving. Both of you are desperate to reach your own climax. It feels all too soon when you feel the knot in your stomach building. You bite down hard on your lip when he's crooks his fingers up against your wall, whining at the feeling.

You're breathing heavily to bite back your moans, grinding your hips into his fingers as you chase your own release. You can feel when the tension in your stomach breaks, damn near sure your legs would give out with the force of your orgasm.

You bite down on Lip's bicep to stifle your moan. The groan Lip let's out is buried in your hair as he ruts against you.

Lip keeps a steady rhythm as he grinds against you as you ride out your own high. You breathe heavily against his arm, attempting to catch your breath. Lip slips his fingers out of you, sliding his hand up to press against your stomach to further press your hips into his own. He drops his head down to rest against your shoulder as his hips stutter against you.

The feeling of Lip's teeth sinking into your shoulder makes you gasp as he attempts to stifle his own moan. Lip freezes behind you, breathing harshly against your skin.

Lip's weight is heavy against your back as you both steady yourselves. He taps gently against your stomach before he removes himself from you. Lip clears his throat as he adjusts his shorts behind you. You sluggishly turn yourself around, letting your back rest against the wall as you take in his appearance.

His face is flushed, his shirt rumpled, and his shorts... The wet patch that's leaked through from his boxers is mouth watering. The bite mark on his right bicep is red and angry. You can see the indentation of your teeth still there.

The whole way Lip is right now is near enough to have you breaking your rule. You'd give just about anything to have him fuck you on the staircase. The only thing stopping you is the fact his youngest siblings are sleeping just upstairs, and you know for a fact Debbie isn't the deepest sleeper of the Gallagher clan.

"Let's go get cleaned up, baby.." Lip's words sound slurred, like he's keeping from acting on the same thoughts. All you can do is nod and hold your hands out for him.

Lip shoulders most of your weight up the rest of the stairs, your mind is still so foggy, and you're not sure your legs would work on their own.

He plops you down on his bed unceremoniously. Lip walks away from you to his dresser, opening the drawer that holds several different items of clothes for you. When he comes back to you, he's handing you a new pair of underwear and a bed shirt.

"Y'know the drill, hon.." Lip gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head before he's leaving you again, this time to collect his own new pair of clothes.

You're slow to change your clothes, but Lip gives you the time you need. By the time you're in new underwear and a comfier shirt, you're ready to melt into his bed. Your clothes are left in a pile near the foot of Lip's bed as you roll over and start trying to crawl up to where the pillows lay.

You don't bother acknowledging the sound of Lip shuffling back in until he's landed on the bed beside you. He clumsily drags you up to lay beside him, making you face him on your side.

The both of you are struggling to keep your eyes open, but you're both looking at each other with a half lidded gaze. Lip brings a hand up to hold your face gently, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

The moment is a stark contrast to the one you both had on the staircase. You spot the bruise starting to form on his arm and can't help yourself from placing gentle kisses against it. Lip chuckles softly, bringing his arm to wrap over you, pulling you close to his chest.

You fall asleep like that, Lip's nose buried in your hair, yours against his chest. Warm and comfortable and positively content.

When you wake up, you wish Lip's room had a proper door to it. It's something that you always wished, but it's at the forefront of your mind this morning.

The first thing that wakes you up is the light coming through the window, that brightens up the room. The second is the whispering coming from the doorway.

You can distinctly make out Debbie and Carl's voices. They're not as quiet as they think they are.

"Do you think they fucked?"

"Carl!"

"What? Their clothes are on the floor right there-" You assume he's pointing to your pile of clothes near the foot of the bed. "And Lip has no shirt on."

"Lip hasn't slept with a shirt on since he broke up with Karen and dated Mandy."

"I guess.." You know Carl hates to admit when he's wrong. "But that doesn't explain why he's holding 'em like that."

"That's how people sleep together, Carl. Without having sex. I think it's nice."

"That's boring... Ow!" You could hear the smack Debbie lands on the back of Carl's head, and you have to bury your face further into Lip's chest to keep from laughing.

"Come on.." You have to assume Debbie drags Carl away when you hear them shuffling down the hall and stairs. With them gone, you take a deep breath in relief.

"They leave?" The mutter from Lip startles you slightly.

You peak your head up over his shoulder, relieved neither of the two kids are still in the doorway.

"They're gone." You affirm, leaving your head back on the pillow, extracting yourself from Lip enough that you can look at him.

His hair is flat, where he had been resting his head on the pillow. His eyes are barely open, and he's so warm next to you.

"They're not as quiet as they like to think they are." You whisper to him. It makes him smile.

"Yeah, I know. Try livin' with them all the time.." His voice is rough with sleep and there's a tug in your stomach that makes you want to jump his bones.

"You don't live with them all the time. Live with me more than you do them these days..." There's no bite in your remark. Lip has moved so much of his clothes and smaller belongings into your apartment near campus than you think he keeps here.

You're not sure when it started happening. You were so used to Lip using your shower products when he came over, or using his at the Gallagher house, but at some point a second pair of soap and shampoo showed up on the ledge of your shower. Lip always kept clothes in your room, but at some point, clothes started migrating into your closet. At some point, half of it housed Lip's t-shirts and jeans, and there was a pair of his shoes next to yours on the floor, one of his coats beside yours in the winter.

You never notice these things until they've already appeared and been living in your space. And then it's too late to mention. So Lip has slowly been moving into your apartment, but you're not one to argue over it.

The sound of more footsteps in the hallway have you and Lip closing your eyes, feigning sleep.

"Oh shit-" It's Fiona. Her footsteps stopped briefly in the doorway,

"Ian.!" She's whisper-shouting like it'll change the fact she's even less quiet than the little kids.

Ian must be close by because it's not long before you hear the second set of footsteps stop at the door.

"Woah-"

"I knew it!" You can hear the excitement in Fiona's voice. "He kept denyin' it but I knew it, I fuckin' knew it."

"Did you hear them come in last night?" Ian's the only one that's any good at actually whispering in this house. You almost struggle to hear him.

"No. But at least they made it inside." Fiona sounds resigned by the idea of it. Ian hums in response, and you hear them both leave.

"They need to get a job..." Lip huffs.

His griping makes you giggle. When you open your eyes, Lip is already looking at you, much more awake now. His eyes remind you of ice with the way the morning light hits them.

"At least they care..." You sigh, taking in how soft he still looks this early in the day. It's something you're not sure you'll ever get used to. His face is a little rosy, a soft flush on his nose and cheeks, his hair is messy, and his eyes don't have that sharp glint in them yet.

Lip sounds not committal when he hums. Your eye catches on the deep red bruise on his bicep, small bits of purple showing up already. It's nearly a perfect ring, the outline of your mouth on his skin. It makes your stomach tug, with guilt and a warmth in your core. His eyes follow yours, and he smirks when he sees what you're looking at.

"Someone got a little mouthy last night..." He mumbles as he looks back at you.

"Shut up.." You bring a hand up and shove his face away from you. Lip starts laughing, hugging you closer to his chest. The both of you bask in the presence of the other, Lip holding you close and allowing you to listen to his heartbeat.

The moment is short-lived before there's shouting downstairs. You hear Fiona calling from the first floor.

"Lovebirds! Breakfast! You got two minutes to get dressed and down here before it's free game!" Her voice rings through the house.

"Oh shit," Lip bolts up, wasting no time tumbling out of bed. He rolls over, landing on the floor with a loud thud.

"Idiot." You tease him, climbing off his bed with a bit more grace. You grab a pair of boxers from your open drawer, slipping them on as Lip gets back up.

What you don't anticipate is the foot Lip sticks out to trip you. You let out a shocked scream, putting your hands out to brace yourself as you tumble to the ground.

Lip is on you in moments, softly jabbing at your sides and placing kisses behind your ear and along your hairline. "Who's the idiot now, huh?"

"Still you." You bite out before he begins tickling at your sides. You let out a shriek of laughter, trying to shove him away as you try to wriggle out of his grasp.

The way you're yelling at Lip to stop between fits of laughter is making Lip laugh.

"Get off, get off!! The kids are going to steal our food!" You try shoving his hands away and wiggling out from under him.

"I can think of better things to eat.." Lip stops his actions and whispers in your ear.

"Lip!" You exclaim, smacking him in the chest as you feel your face flush. He nips softly at your ear before he gets off you.

"Come on, quit playin' around.." Lip gives an affectionate pat to your ass as he climbs to his feet.

You roll your eyes at him as you stand up, bringing your hand up to cuff around the back of his head.

What you miss, when you walk out of his room, is the grin on his face. One that is sickly sweet and not what he should have when he thinks about his best friend.

You have been at this party for maybe 15 minutes before Lip is dragging you down a hallway by your wrist.

It was abrupt. You had planted yourself by the kitchen island. It gave you an overview of the living room turned dance floor, where you could watch everyone be stupid and drunk.

One guy in particular had caught your eye. It's not that you would have let him take you home, but you liked the feeling of attention it gave you to have someone look at you across the room.

This did not sit well with Lip. He had left you by the island to go talk to someone he knew from college. It didn't bother you like it should have since you had something to hold your attention.

When the guy across the room starts to push through the crowd towards you, Lip shows up to drag you away. He takes your cup out of your hand, and places it on the counter when you pass by.

"What- Lip- Lip, what are you doing?" It doesn't seem like he hears you when you try and get a reason out of him. You have no choice but to follow behind him. You're unsure how Lip knows where he's going in this house, but he manages to find you guys an empty bathroom.

Once you're inside the bathroom, Lip locks the door before he pushes you up against it by your hips.

"Should have known you'd be preening for attention.." Lip mutters as he presses kisses on your jaw. "Dressed like this... Should have known you'd be actin' up tonight..."

"Wh-What?" The bite he leaves under your ear makes you stutter, choking down a moan.

"Saw you lookin' at him... Lookin' at you like he's thinkin' 'bout fuckin' you.." Lip growls against your neck. You're not even sure what he's talking about. Lip has undone the button of your shorts, resting his fingers over your underwear.

You don't even have to think twice about it. "Yes.."

You're still not even sure who he's talking about. Lip has never been this possessive or jealous before. You don't get the chance to unpack it when Lip starts to rub tight circles over your clit.

Lip doesn't give you much time to ask anymore questions before he's inserting two fingers into you. The feeling of his fingers filling you immediately makes you inhale sharply.

"Think he'd be able to fuck you like this? Got you squirmin' on my fuckin' fingers.." You cannot think past the feeling of Lip's fingers inside of you, the filth coming out of his mouth, and the way he's grinding the heel of his hand against your clit.

"Haven't ever given you my cock and you're this needy... Think he'd be able to fuck you like that? Fuckin' yourself on my fingers like a whore..." Lip is leaving sharp bites down your neck and your jaw. The hand that's not down your pants comes up to grope at your chest, and you can feel yourself melting against the door.

You don't prove him wrong with the way your hips are grinding into his hand. The feeling of his lips along your collarbone has you gasping and writhing. You're sure that if the music wasn't so loud, people outside would be able to hear your moans.

Lip's got you right where he wants you, you're putty in his hands, you'd probably let him do whatever he wanted if it meant he kept talking and fucking you like this.

You don't catch all of the obscenities Lip says against your skin, too busy chasing the feeling of your own orgasm and bucking against his hand.

"Thinks he can look at what's mine..." His words break the haze in your mind and you can tell Lip's just saying empty words.

You're going to be sick.

"Stop- stop, stop!" You push Lip's hand away from you and tug it out of your pants. Lip looks at you wide-eyed as you push him out of your space.

You can't breathe. You're going to be sick. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can't breathe.

"Come on, sweetheart, look at me. Look at me, match my breathin'.." Lip's hands are on your face.

"Don't- Don't tou-" Your words are cut off by whatever is strangling you. Lip doesn't listen. He instead takes the hand gripping at your shirt and puts it against his chest. His heart is much calmer than yours is.

"Come on, honey. Need you to match my breathin'.." Lip's words are quiet and calm and so far away.

It takes you five minutes before you can breathe clearly. It takes another two for you to realize you had been crying.

Lip doesn't let go of you until you're no longer taking shuddering breaths. Once his hands leave your face, you feel cold, and you want to take away the whole meltdown you just had in order to have him close to you again.

The look he's giving you makes you want to crawl into the ground. You bring your shaky hands to button back up your shorts and adjust your shirt to look less rumpled.

"You wanna go home?" He asks like he's talking to a stray animal, like he doesn't want to spook you.

All you can do is nod. You don't want to look at him, you don't want to see the pity in his eyes.

"Can I have your hand?" He's being so gentle and considerate and you want to throw up.

You offer him your hand tentatively. Lip takes it gently before he reaches past you to unlock the door.

The journey to find your way out of the house is an exhausting one. However, the moment you're both alone seems far more dreadful.

You don't want to deal with the interrogation you already know is coming.

Lip is going to ask questions, and you're going to have to tell him that you've stupidly fallen in love with him. That you've been in love with him since before this painful charade had started.

There's a feeling of shame that bubbles up in your stomach whenever you think about how long you let this go on for. Pretending to be happy and okay with the fact you give so much to him, and he doesn't care.

The direction Lip picks is the way to your house. You had chosen this party because it was so close to your apartment but now you're regretting it. You think the silence is worse than an interrogation would be.

Lip doesn't break the silence until you make it to your apartment, the only place you'll have any sense of privacy. And maybe the last place you'll see Lip.

"What uh- what was that about?"

"Doesn't matter," You bend to slip off your shoes, discarding them by the pile you have at the door.

"Don't give me that-" He starts but you cut him off.

"Give you what, Lip? The truth? It doesn't matter so long as you can keep finger-fucking me, right? Use me for a handy from time to time?" You sound miserable and pathetic, you don't have the energy to pretend anymore.

"Don't tell me it means nothing when you just had a fucking panic attack about it!" Lip never really raises his voice at you. Not out of anger, anyways. But he's agitated, running a hand through his hair.

"What do you want to hear, Lip? That I'm okay with being with you only when I'm convenient? That it's okay that every time maybe, just maybe you won't tell me it means nothing when you fuck me?" This is truly your breaking point. "I can't sit in silence over this anymore, Lip! Not if you're going to pretend you have some fucking claim over me, like we're dating. You're good at making it very clear we're not."

Lip is silent where he stands in your kitchen. He looks like he's been slapped in the face, you kind of wish you had.

"So, if you want to hear that I'm okay with you saying I'm yours, when I've spent nights wallowing in my own self pity that I've been letting this go on, then you are sorely mistaken, Lip Gallagher." You sigh tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face.

"Why- Why didn't you say anything?" Lip is looking at you like you're crazy.

"Because I didn't want to lose you! I'd- I'd rather deal with this pain than deal with the pain of losing you, Lip."

"Why would you lose me?"

"Because, Lip, you always say it means nothing! That- That is was a mistake, and that I was convenient and it couldn't happen again but it always did!"

"No that's not- I only said that cause I didn't think- I didn't think you wanted anything serious-"

"Oh please, Lip-"

"I didn't think you wanted anything serious with me. You know I'm a mess and my family is one stop from a shitshow-"

"And you think my family's perfect?" Your voice is laced with disbelief. "My mother was gone half the time, she'll never be as bad as Monica but my life is just as much of a shitshow, Lip. I just got better at hiding it."

Lip looks hurt at the mention of both your mothers.

"I don't want to talk about the rest of this tonight, Lip. I'm tired and just- I can't have this conversation tonight." You wave a hand at him in dismissal as you turn to head down the hallway to your room.

The sound of Lip's footsteps following you down the hallway further agitates you.

"Go home, Lip!" You call over your shoulder, pushing your way past the door to your room. You walk across the room to turn on your lap, illuminating your bedroom with a soft, warm glow.

You're not surprised to see Lip standing in your doorway. He's never liked to listen to you, instead choosing to follow you around like a lost puppy.

In hopes of him leaving if you ignore him, you move to your dresser and collect your clothes for bed. You can feel his eyes on you as you move across the room, trying to bide your time before you actually have to change.

He hasn't made any move by the time you set your change of clothes on the bed. Lip was nothing if not persistent.

"I'm not doing this with you tonight." You can't meet his gaze, if you look at him you know your resolve will break.

You can see him approaching you in your periphery and you can feel your stomach dip slightly. His hand is soft where it rests on your forearm, the way his thumb gently caresses your skin makes you inhale deeply.

Turns out you don't even need to look at him for your resolve to slip

His other hand moving to cup your cheek makes your eyes flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of his touch. You don't put up much of a fight as he turns your face towards him. Lip gently rests his forehead against yours, bumping your nose with his. Having him so close is intoxicating, making you lean further into him.

The kiss Lip pulls you into is desperate, and passionate, and full of everything neither one of you has been saying. Lip holds your face gently, taking his time to savor you, a stark contrast on how he usually tastes you.

You can't help the way you melt into the kiss, grabbing onto his shirt to pull him against you. The gentleness of it all makes your stomach flip.

Lip's hand slips over your wrist, grabbing your change of clothes from your hand and tossing it to the floor beside your bed.

With that taken care of, Lip guides you to lay back against your bed. He's quick to follow you, not wanting to break the kiss for a second. You're quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. Lip grabs your hips softly, lifting and guiding you to lay against your pillows.

Lip's hands move from your hips to the buttons of your jeans, making quick work of the zipper. He gently coaxes you to lift your hips to slip your pants down your thighs. Your pants are quickly discarded to the floor, Lip's soon to follow them as he somehow makes even quicker work of his own zipper and button.

With less clothing in between the both of you, Lip rolls his hips against your own. The feeling of his erection rubbing against you makes you gasp. Taking the opportunity, Lip slips his tongue into your mouth. You're pliant and needy in his hands, whining into his mouth before he breaks away to catch his breath. You're quick to place soft kisses along his neck, biting softly around his Adams apple.

Lip groans softly before he pulls back. He's quick to slip your underwear down your legs and then remove his boxers. The feeling of his erection resting against your stomach is heavy, making your stomach twist. Your hips grind up against him, the vein on the underside of his cock creating a delightful friction against your clit.

One of your hands slips up to intertwine with his hair. You're quick to pull him into another soft kiss, arching your back to press your chest to his.

"Please, Lip..." Your voice is desperate as you kiss at the corner of his mouth, trailing kisses along his jaw. "Need you... Need you, right now.."

Lip's breath hitches softly in his throat. "You don't- I don't have any-"

"Doesn't matter.." You mutter, nipping at the edge of his jaw.

"Fuckin' hell..." Lip mutters before he brings you into a sloppy kiss.

The feeling of Lip's hips pulling away from you makes you whine, mourning the loss of warmth on your stomach. The moan you let out when Lip nudges the head of his cock against your clit is needy. Lip grunts in response, softly guiding his head along your folds to collect some of your slick before he attempts to push himself in.

The feeling of just the tip of him past your entrance makes you inhale sharply. Lip breathes shakily against your cheek, cursing under his breath as he pushes himself further into you. The stretch makes you wince briefly, panting heavily at the pressure in your stomach.

"Please, Lip. Please, please..." You're not sure what you're begging for but it eggs him on. Lip grunts softly as he gives a soft thrust into your heat.

Your jaw drops when Lip bottoms out. The feeling of being filled by him has your walls clenching around his cock. Lip drops his head against your shoulder as he groans, slipping his hand into yours where it lays on the mattress.

You squeeze his hand as he rolls his hips against you. The feeling of the head of his cock nudging against your cervix makes you light headed. You have no choice but to watch as Lip moves his free hand to rest against the wall, taking in the way his arm flexes.

Lip lifts his head up from your shoulder to kiss at your jaw, slowly pulling out to just the tip before softly thrusting back in. You can feel the vein along his shaft rubbing against your walls.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, sweetheart..." Lip groans when he bottoms out again. He tries to stifle the whine in his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him. He's much deeper than you had thought possible, you can feel him all the way in your stomach.

"Holy shit- Y'so fuckin' tight, baby... Thought we stretched y'enough.." Lip kisses your cheek softly. All you can do is whine in response, squeezing his hand again.

The pace Lip starts with is gentle, pulling out to the tip before thrusting back in firmly. The motions make you squirm, rutting your hips up into him.

"More..." You whine. "Please, Lip, need more.."

Lip groans at your words, knocking his nose against yours. With your encouragement, Lip quickens his pace.

The familiar beginnings of a knot forming in your stomach has you moving your hips in time to move with Lip's. Lip removes his hand from the wall, winding its way in between your bodies. The tight circles he starts rubbing against your clit makes you moan, bucking your hips into his hand.

The movements of Lip's hips quicken when he feels the way your walls are clenching around his cock. Similar to the way they clenched around his fingers so many times before. The hitching of your breath encourages Lip even further, grinding deep inside of you to punctuate each thrust with.

Lip is quick to dip his head into your neck, biting softly under your ear, making you whimper softly. The culmination of his fingers, cock, and mouth along your body is enough to have the knot in your stomach unraveling.

Your walls flutter with your release before clamping down on him. The sensation makes Lip groan into your neck, grinding into you as the first ropes of his release coat your insides. The warmth makes you moan softly, pressing the side of your face into Lip's hair. Lip's hips grind softly against you as you both ride out your climax. When he removes his face from your neck your chest aches at the loss of closeness.

Lip kisses you softly as he gently ruts his hips into you. You whine softly as the feeling of overstimulation starts to creep into your nerves. You can feel the mix of both your releases slipping out of you with each gentle thrust Lip gives you. The mixture slides down your ass and onto the sheets under you.

He nudges your nose with his as you whimper at the feeling of it all.

"'S too much. Too much, Lip.." You whine against his mouth, lifting your hips softly.

"I know, but y'gotta keep it all, baby.." Lip gives you one more gentle thrust before he stills. He starts to pepper kisses to your cheek, trying to make up for it.

Lip pulls out of you slowly, watching where the mix of both of you leaks out of your hole. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth as he collects it with his finger, gently pushing the mixture back into you.

"I know, I know.." Lip whispers when you whine at the feeling.

Lip flops down onto the mattress, huffing softly. You can feel his gaze on you as you catch your breath. The feeling of Lip's hand caressing your ribs jolts you out of your mind fog, making you turn to look at his face.

"We should've done that so long ago..." Lip sighs, giving you a soft smirk.

You roll your eyes at him, "Someone was too busy having his head so far up his own ass for us to even try.."

"Whatever," Lip smiles at you before he kisses you sweetly. When he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are full of adoration and something you can't name.

"What're you lookin' at?" You whisper, fighting a grin.

"Somethin' really special..." Lip replies before he gives you another kiss. "Something real special.."

#saltnsugarbear #too much salt (18+)#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher fanfic #shameless fanfiction

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flemingsfreckles · 6 months

Text

I Hate You (18+)

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Preview: Jessie is pissed off after Canada loses again to the US, she ends up finding stress relief in the opposing teams captain.

Warnings: where do I even start… hate-sex, oral sex (r receiving and giving), strap on sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), tit sucking, marking (hickeys and scratching) face sitting, finger sucking, edging, dirty talk, degradation, spitting, some restraining, minor choking, rough sex, cursing

WC: 4.8k words of horniness

A/N: 🫣 I was having a lot of feelings after the she believes match, don’t mind me

“God you’re so fucking annoying, you lost get over it!” You yelled at Jessie. You both had found yourself in the hallway after the She Believes Cup Final. Well, you had followed her down the hallway, wanting to tease her about your victory. When she saw you following her she had told you off, telling you to leave her be.

You had always disliked each other. You and the Canadian midfielder had always ended up playing for rival teams. She played for Canada, you played for the US, she played for UCLA, you played for UNC, she played for Chelsea, you played for Arsenal. The dislike of each other had turned into hatred as you both were named to be new captains of your National teams within days of each other.

You had the same attitude during and after the Gold Cup Semifinal, and naturally you were a dick to her after you had come away victorious, you made a comment or two when you went to shake hands with her.

So when the She Believes Final lead the two of you to be facing off again, you were at each other's throats. You both had fouled each other a couple times in the game, constantly going hard into her and she’d return the favor. You both had been shown yellows and been warned for the language you were using toward each other.

“I’m annoying? You’re annoying, I can’t stand you. With your attitude, walking around like you’re better than everyone.” She throws her hands up.

“No need to be mad Jessie, we’re just better than you. Specifically I’m better.” You snap your own captain's armband in her direction.

“Remind me again what legitimate international trophies you contributed to? A 4 team tournament is meaningless. Last time I checked one of us has a gold and bronze medal, you have what? A bronze that your teammates won for you? And your teammates have World Cup titles, but you weren’t good enough back then to be on those teams were you? You were only good enough to be on the first ever US team to lose round 16!” Jessie was sick of you, sick of how you acted, how you treated her and her other teammates, she had finally snapped.

“Fuck you!” You spit back at her, not appreciating her personal attack. “I was injured in 2019 you asshole.”

“You’re so cocky and yet have nothing to back it up, so fuck you too.”

“I bet you wish you could Fleming. But I’m probably better than you in that regard too!”

Her eyes squint at you before she’s lunging at you, for a second you think she’s about to take out her anger with a punch. Instead her hands find your hips, slamming you hard against the cool brick wall. For a moment the wind is knocked from your lungs and you have to take a deep breath. You really had never seen Jessie get this mad, she had some choice words here and there on the pitch but usually once final time hit she was level headed. She had never insulted you or yelled at you. Yet here she was, her strong arms pinning you hard against the wall.

Something about her change in demeanor was making your stomach buzz. The way she was staring at you was so intense. You shouldn’t be wanting her like this but you were. She leaned into you slightly, her eyes looking at your lips before she closed them. You close yours tilting your chin up to meet hers. That’s when you hear her let out a laugh.

“Oh look at that, you wanted me to kiss you, that’s so cute. Is it cute or embarrassing?” She cocks her head at you. Jessie’s tone is so degrading that you can tell your blushing, your cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. You couldn’t believe her behavior, you were usually the meaner of the two of you. She was acting like a completely different person.

“Don’t think this changes anything, I still can’t fucking stand you. But maybe I’ll like you a little bit better bent over.” She whispers in your ear before she releases you from her grasp and turns to leave.

“Room 338, if you want to prove how much better you truly are and put your money where that bratty mouth is.” She says, not even turning back to look at you as she opens the door to the Canada dressing room. The US and Canadian teams were staying in the same hotel, you had passed numerous of their players on the way to and from your room. Getting stuck riding the elevator with them a couple times as well.

With that offer you quickly ran to the locker room, the rest of your teammates already well into their celebrations. You just head to your locker, stripping off your uniform, ignoring your teammates trying to hand you beers, waving them off politely.

“What are you doing? Going home so early?” Sam Coffey slapped a hand across your back, giving you a shake. It was clear the team had already started on the drinking while you were busy yelling in the hallway with Jessie.

“Oh I’m just not feeling great, I’m going to head back to the hotel. Spend some time in bed.” Conveniently you had experienced a migraine a few days before, making your story more believable.

“Damn, alright, get some good rest, I’ll let everyone else know.” She pats your back and turns around singing along to whatever song was being blasted through the speaker.

Without saying another word to anyone, you slip out the locker room door and throw up your hood and start walking in the direction of the hotel, it wasn’t far and you didn’t feel like getting in an Uber.

You’re not sure if you should change or shower before going to Jessie’s room, but thinking back to how she had you against the wall was enough to send a tingle down your spine and had you pressing the elevator button for floor 3 instead of floor 4.

Jessie opens the door almost immediately after you knock and your mouth falls agape. She had answered in just her red biker shorts and black sports bra, the rest of her skin already on display.

“No roommate?” You say peering around her into the room.

“I told her I needed privacy for some captain stuff. Which technically isn’t a lie, we’re both captains.”

You just nod. You didn’t care what she said to her roommate as long as you weren’t going to get walked in on. The door closes behind you as you step into Jessie’s room. Quickly you find yourself against the wall for the second time, being pinned by the Canadian. The only difference is this time her whole body is pressed against yours and her lips are not just teasing you. Her mouth is rough against yours. She tastes like sweat and Gatorade. Skipping regular kissing, Jessie is already opening her mouth against yours, her tongue between your lips.

You return the favor, your tongue grazing hers. You quickly realize you have little to no control here, Jessie was easily taking the dominant position and while you weren’t too opposed, you felt the need to prove her otherwise. You shift your legs, moving one to slot between Jessie’s, placing some force against the apex of the legs. You feel her grind down slightly onto your thigh, giving herself a minor relief from the ache between her legs. As she ground down you took the opportunity to push Jessie back, she stumbled for a step before your hands found her waist, both steadying her but also grabbing her to move her to the bed.

“Lay down.” You say when she sits on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You hated being told what to do as well, but you hated Jessie choosing not to listen even more. Having enough of her mouth, you place your hands on her shoulders shoving her down into the mattress.

“If you’re not going to listen, I’ll do it for you.” You say as your hands hold firm on her shoulders, keeping her on the mattress. She tried to sit up for a second, pushing against your hands before she gives up, relaxing into the bed. Your face is inches above hers. She rolls her eyes at you, which just pisses you off more.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.” You spit back before leaning down to connect your lips again.

Your hand wanders down to m the elastic of her sports bra, pulling it out slightly before letting it snap back on her skin, leaving Jessie whimpering. You repeat the action a few more times, liking the way she would squirm when you held the band away from her, knowing the snap of the elastic against her skin was coming. You liked the pretty noises she made against your lips when you released the band and it smacked her already red and tender skin.

Having enough of your teasing, Jessie’s hands found their way to the bottom of her bra, she pulled it up releasing her breasts. You couldn’t help but pull back from the kiss to look at her chest. Moving your hands to cup both of her tits, your thumbs find her already pebbled nipples, rubbing over them quickly. Jessie arches into your touch. You move your mouth down to capture one nipple between your lips, sucking hard. You then move to leave harsh kisses on both of her tits.

When you have had enough of giving her pleasure, you move your mouth to her neck. You find where her neck meets her collarbone and you start to suck, hard. Her hand flies up to the back of your neck, pulling gently on the hair at the base of your head.

“Fuck, don’t leave a mark.”

Taking you lips off of her skin for a moment you let out a grunt, “What? Too scared your teammates will find out you let me take control of you?”

“Fine leave marks I don’t care, but I get to leave them on you too.” She huffs. You weren’t opposed to the idea, you secretly loved being marked up, the constant reminder of your escapades when you would change or shower. You’d just have to face your teammates knowing you let the Canadian fuck you. They’d also know you lied about feeling sick to go fuck her.

Your lips meet Jessie’s in an aggressive kiss, you pinch her bottom lip between your teeth and pull hard on it while you grab the back of her thighs to move her to the middle of the bed. The older girl lets out a mix between a moan and a squeal as you move her. You place her down and your hands trail up to the top of her biker shorts.

“I’m going to take those off, okay?” Sure you couldn’t stand the girl but you were still going to ask before you stripped her last layer of clothing off. You were an ass but you had your limits.

“Do it.” Jessie lifts her hips to let you slide the tight material down, tossing them across the room.

You grabbed at her inner thighs, giving them a tight squeeze, your nails digging into her skin, leaving small marks. You push her legs open and back, putting her pussy on display to you. You could see she was already wet. The sight of her had you licking your lips.

“For a captain you’re really letting me push you around right now.” You say not looking up from where your eyes were fixated between her legs.

“Shut the fuck up.” She glares at you.

“Make me!” You tease back expecting her to kiss you to shut you up.

Jessie took your challenge literally and in a different direction, she closed her legs, your hands falling from her legs and she pushed you so now you were flat on your back with her holding you to the bed. “I can do that.”

She starts to straddle you, her thighs resting on either side of your stomach. For a second her core brushes against your navel and a small string of arousal connects the two of you. She doesn’t stay on your waist long, she keeps moving upward. That’s when you realize exactly what she's doing. She was moving to sit on your face. She was going to shut you up by sitting on your face.

She pauses when her knees settle on either side of your head. You can smell her, you try to lift your head, your tongue out, reaching to taste her. Her hand comes down on your forehead pushing you gently back to the bed. “No.” She shakes her head at you. Looking up at her had your head spinning, you may hate the girl but fuck she was hot, the way she was looking down at you and her perfect body was hovering above you.

Giving in to what you wanted, but on her terms Jessie lowered herself over your mouth and your senses are immediately filled with the taste, smell, and feeling of her pussy. Your tongue runs all over her, from her entrance to her clit and back, getting familiar with her. Jessie is letting out soft moans, music to your ears. Her hips grind down harder into you when your tongue passes over her clit so you give in to what she wants and wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, sucking on it while using your tongue to flick at it.

It doesn’t take long until Jessie starts moving her hips on her own, riding your face instead of just sitting on it. Moving your hands up to grip her ass, you help guide her movements. Her hand has a tight grip in your hair and you’re allowing her to turn and tilt your head where she needs you. Your tongue and lips still focus on her clit as her movements become more erratic.

“I’m going to cum.” Jessie’s voice comes out raspy. “Fuck.” You open your eyes to see her throwing her head back, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth as she lets out a few moans. Her hips jolt a few times, roughly against your face before they stop and she lifts herself away from your tongue. You let out a small whine, wanting to taste her more. Jessie’s eyes move to meet yours, and a smirk creeps across her lips.

“I guess that mouth is good for more than just smartass comments.” She uses her thumb to collect the wetness from your chin before she pushes her finger against your lips. “Suck.” You happily listen, opening your mouth to suck Jessie’s arousal off her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact with her as your tongue swirled over her finger. A short moan falls from Jessie’s lips as her mouth falls open as she watches you suck her finger. She pulls her finger from your lips resulting in a pop before she climbs off of you and moves over to the corner where what you assumed was her suitcase lay.

You can’t quite see what she’s doing but when she turns back she has a strap on in her hand.

“I didn’t take you to be a purple kind of girl.” You point at the purple dildo attached to the harness.

“What's that supposed to mean?” She’s still standing across the room holding the strap now looking at it in her hand.

“I dunno, figured you’d go with blue or maybe just clear.” You shrug, you didn’t even mean anything by the words, the color had just genuinely surprised you. “You just always bring that in your suitcase?” Jessie did not seem like the type to just be bringing sex toys in her suitcase, she was surprising you in all kinds of ways today.

“Not usually, unless I know I’m going to use it. But I had a weird feeling it might come in handy this week. Do you want me to use it?”

“I mean sure, if you need the assistance of a toy to get me off then that’s fine. Some people aren’t good in bed without some assistance.” Pushing her buttons was fun, you knew she could probably get you off with her tongue or her fingers but you desperately wanted her to prove it. The strap was quickly tossed onto the bed next to you, Jessie abandoning it to grab your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed.

Her hands came to the waist of your sweats, gripping both your pants and underwear between her fingers. “Can I?” You nod, lifting your hips to let her swiftly pull down your pants leaving you bare from the waist down. You take a second to pull your shirt and bra off, saving Jessie from having to do so. She’s quick to place her hands on your chest, giving a firm squeeze to both of your breasts. Her mouth follows and she trails hot, wet kisses up from between your tits to your neck where she returns the favor and sucks hard. She then works her way back down your neck, leaving more marks across your collarbone and the swell of your breasts.

Her actions already had you letting out shakey moans, your hips bucking slightly, begging for contact, for any kind of release. She laughs against your skin as your hips begin moving more frequently.

Jessie moves off of you, for a second completely removing her touch from your body. Kneeling at the end of the bed, she pulls your knees to sit over her shoulders before her hands grab your hips and she plunges her face into where you were already a dripping mess. Vibrations run across your pussy as Jessie moans into you at the taste of your arousal.

She’s quick to focus on your clit, the spot that has you already grabbing at her hair, pulling her close and profanities falling from your lips. You didn’t want to cum already, not only would that be embarrassing having to admit how good she was in bed but you also didn’t want the pleasure to end.

You end up betraying yourself, your brain telling you to wait, move away so you didn’t cum right away, but your body wanted the pleasure, it wanted release. You instead helped Jessie, using the hand in her hair to guide her directly where you needed her. It was only a few minutes later that your legs were shaking on her shoulders. Grinding against her mouth, your head fell back, a groan leaving your body as your legs wrapped around her head tightly. You continued thrusting yourself against her mouth, riding out the extent of your orgasm before your legs loosened and Jessie was able to remove her mouth from you.

Just as you start to catch your breath from your first orgasm, Jessie’s fingers are pushing into you. Your pussy clenches tightly around them, still sensitive from the previous orgasm. Her thrusts start slow but firm getting you used to the feeling of her thick fingers deep inside of you.

“Fuck Jessie.”

“That’s right, let everyone know who’s taking care of you.” Her eyes are dark as she looks up at you from between your legs. She looks fucked, her baby hairs sticking out in every direction from where your hands had been, her lips are swollen and the entire lower half of her face is still slick with your arousal. Not to mention the deep red markings your mouth has made are starting to develop darker across on her neck.

Knowing you made her look like that sends another wave of arousal through your body. Her teammates were going to know that she got laid when she goes to training in two days. So would your teammates. But maybe they wouldn’t know you fucked each other, for some reason you liked that, it was your dirty little secret.

Jessie picks up the pace with her fingers, curling them everytime she buries them fully. Still on the high from your first orgasm, you can feel the second one building quickly, feeling yourself start to tighten on her fingers.

“Fuck I’m going to cum Jessie.” With your warning Jessie brings her tongue back to your clit, with one swipe you’re clenching around her fingers, your thighs closing themselves around her head. Your hips thrust, fucking yourself on her fingers to ride out your second orgasm.

Jessie takes her tongue away and her fingers slide out of you. You look down at her where she remaining kneeling at the edge of the bed.

“My tongue and fingers do a damn good job on their own, I just think toys can be fun too.”

“Put it on then.” You grab the strap that was next to you on the bed, tossing it between your legs at Jessie. She stands up, situating the harness around her waist and tightening the straps. You stay where you are, legs dangling over the side of the bed while you wait for Jessie.

She comes over to you, grabbing your thighs, her hands finding the bend of your knee, holding your legs open and back. You watch her face as she spits, a trail of saliva leaving her mouth and landing on the tip of the strap. In awe of her action you lay there, mouth open, eyes wide. You had never been someone that was explicitly into spitting during sex, but seeing her spit on the dildo had you reconsidering.

You’d let her spit in your mouth like that, you think to yourself.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the feeling of the silicone rubbing over your pussy. Jessie gives a few teasing thrusts, just grazing your clit with the head, spreading your wetness down the length of her dick.

The tip finds your entrance and Jessie pushes into you, you both let out moans as she easily bottoms out inside of you. She then pulls back, just letting the tip stay inside of you and pushes herself back in fully in a fluid motion. Jessie quickly picks up a rhythm, not too fast but not slow, each thrust is forceful, you feel your tits bouncing and bring your hands up to play with your nipples.

“You’re fucking hot.” Jessie says as her eyes watch your fingers pinch and caress your chest.

“You look so good fucking me.” You responded to her, you hated her but in the moment that hatred was all turned into lust.

Jessie keeps her pace, after a minute you’re already a mess, strings of moans uncontrollably falling from your lips. When Jessie moves to lay down on top of you, you nearly lose it. Your hands come to her back ranking your nails against her skin as she’s able to fuck even deeper into you. You knew you were leaving red streaks down her back that everyone would see when she changed at training.

“I’m going to,” starting to warn her that your third orgasm was building. Before you can finish the sentence she pulls out.

“What the fuck?” You yell. Eyes snapping open to give Jessie a glare. Jessie’s hand is quick to be on your chin, gripping it hard between her thumb and index finger, her other three fingers are on your throat forcing you to look at her. The grip on your face is so hard it’s nearly painful, but you liked it. The feeling of her three fingers on your neck has your heart racing and you’re sure she can feel it in your pulse.

“What? You thought you’d be able to do this without a little teasing? I still hate you, I’m not just going to give you what you want.” She releases your jaw from her grasp and moves your hands to your hips.

“I hate you.” You had said it numerous times tonight, and you meant it or at least you thought you did.

“Flip over.” She demands, wanting to just be able to get the release you were so close to you to listen to her, flipping yourself over so your feet were now on the ground as you bent over the bed, your sensitive nipples making contact with the rough hotel bed sheets.

You feel Jessie’s hands grip your ass, spreading you slightly, and then you hear her spit, followed by the feeling of her saliva running down your pussy.

“Come on Jessie.” Pushing your ass back toward her you hope it’ll encourage her to move a bit quicker.

“What would your teammates say if they knew I had their captain bent over for me, pathetically begging for my cock?”

“Jessie.” Your hands grip at the bedsheet, you need her to finish what she started.

“What?” Her voice sounds annoyed.

“I hate you.” You’re not sure if that’s going to piss her off more or encourage her to fuck you again. But you get the answer quickly.

“I hate you,” she responds as she completely fills you from behind. She starts again, punctuating each word she says with a rough thrust, “you're. a. cocky. little. brat. egotistical. can’t. fucking. stand. you. you. always. have. an. attitude. fucking. pain. in. the. ass.”

She pauses. Her hips stalled with the tip of her strap just barely inside of you.

“Nothing to say back?” You can practically hear the smile on her face. “It’s about time you shut that smartass mouth of yours, is that all you needed this whole time? For me to fuck your shitty ego out of you?” She grabs your hair pulling you off the bed so your back is flush to her front.

“Look at me.” She demands but also doesn’t give you much of a choice as she’s gripping your head in her hands and can easily turn your face. “Is that what you needed? My fingers, and mouth, and cock? You just needed someone to fuck you properly?” You’re trying to focus on her words but all your brain can think about is how the tip of the strap is pressed against your entrance.

“Yes Jessie.” Your neck is starting to hurt from the angle she was holding you in, thankfully answering her question got you shoved back into the mattress bent over and Jessie’s cock thrusting back into you. Her hands firm on your ass. Using her arms to pull you to meet her thrusts.

“Cum for me, make sure everyone knows who fixed that attitude.” She gives a hard squeeze on your ass.

“Oh my god Jessie, fuck.”

“That’s it.”

“Jessie, Jessie, please.” You can’t do anything besides chant her name. She was consuming every aspect of you, she was all you could think of being overwhelmed with pleasure. You knew her teammates would be able to hear, thankful your teammates were likely still out celebrating, even though your rooms were on a different floor, you were pretty sure the whole hotel could hear you screaming her name as you came on her strap. There goes what you thought would be your dirty little secret.

With one last drawn out moan of her name, you go limp on the bed, Jessie still thrusting into you, moving your whole body. Your knees give out and Jessie’s hands move to your waist to hold you from slipping off the bed. She slows her thrusts, giving you long, drawn out movements to work through your third orgasm. She pulls out when your hand comes up behind your back to push her away.

You hear the sound of the strap hitting the ground and feel Jessie climb on the bed next to you. She lays on her stomach, mimicking your position, turning her face to look at yours. She’s got red cheeks, hair still crazy, and a small amount of sweat on her forehead. You catch a glimpse of the red streaks you left down her back, they would definitely still be there tomorrow. She’s also got a huge grin on her face.

“Hmm, the one orgasm you gave me versus the three I just gave you… seems like I’m actually the ones who’s better.” It’s now her cocky attitude showing through.

“I never said we were done Fleming, I have some hatred of you left.” You push yourself up with what strength you have left. Playing 90 minutes and then three orgasms takes a lot of energy. You move to straddle Jessie. You had to at least give her two more, tie it up, but you’d be happy to take the lead. Needless to say it was the start of a very long evening for the two of you.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso smut #canwnt

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feeder86 · 6 months

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Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time.

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet.

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion.

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control.

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gainerfic #gainer story #gayfeedee #gay feedee #gainerstories

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always-just-down-the-street · 14 days

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A Theory In Light of The Reality of The Situation Regarding OJ and Taco

As is tradition for the last few posts, MAJOR INANIMATE INSANITY SPOILERS! Not just II S2 16 this time, though that DOES play into the major crux.

So I had a big think and I made a big theory.

Something that kinda stood out to me in seeing the reactions to II S2 16 is how much OJ's narcissism is brought up- the hats, the titling of it being HOJP instead of HOP, keeping himself the focus and stuff like that, to the point where his choice of what to do after he won was to make a hotel called Hotel OJ.

But then I thought about how...he won and more importantly, Taco lost. And then this line came to mind:

And the phrase "I was built to win!", after the revelations of II S2 16, takes on such a different meaning now. Obviously this was pre-the decision of the plot twist so consider this half theory, half headcanon, but something that stuck out to me is that the twist only kicks in after Taco loses. After Taco loses...because of Bow, who was always a wild card in the grand scheme of things.

...What if Taco was supposed to win S1, but Bow ruined it?

Now I kinda brushed this off when I had this yesterday but then I saw that image in a tweet and more importantly...this response.

And now I'm thinking there might actually be something to this.

Now, originally I believed that the paths that Taco and OJ ended up taking were their programming trying to correct itself and rapidly getting everything messed up. OJ's narcissism and pride are shoved into the facade of a winner, a natural leader, while Taco's entire character is rewritten to justify her losing- villains don't win, so she much be a villain for her to suddenly lose like that when she so clearly had it in the bag!

...Originally being the keyword. Because while I think this is still true to a certain degree, a different question reared its head into my brain and has not left.

What if OJ was supposed to turn villain when he lost?

It would fit the narrative- selfish, prideful person loses everything at the last step and turns villainous to take what is "rightfully his". But then Bow messed everything up, and now Taco, who lost instead, must take on the twist villain role.

When I first told this theory to a friend, they pointed out that that means instead of Taco playing Pickle, OJ was probably going to turn out to be playing Paper the whole time. But the story had to correct itself, and thus...

The bottom line is essentially that Taco and OJ are, to some degree...broken.

(No I will not apologize for this theory.)

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mypoisonedvine · 3 months

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𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 (part I) | frater imperator x reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 | when the newly-appointed head of the clergy decides (or, has it decided for him) that it is time to marry, he neither has time for nor has to worry about the stress of dating... he can just take his pick.

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 | 5.2k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 | for the series overall: smut (18+ only!!), arranged marriage, extreme religious themes, shy!reader, and lots of pining/slow-ish burn. for this chapter: mention of death and mostly just reader having anxiety... and a hint of my glove kink coming through but that's neither here nor there

this is probably not worth saying when it's already in the title but uh, rite here rite now spoilers. so sorry but it's literally what the fic is based on so I couldn't help it.

Frater Imperator… Frater Imperator…

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the title, still. It was a shock already when he first read the letter from his mother— on top of the shock of losing her, which was more than enough— but it still hadn’t quite sunk in.

He was so shocked by the promotion, in fact, that he’d been entirely unable to process the paragraph afterwards:

And please, do as I’ve been asking for quite some time and finally take a wife. Or husband! I’m not picky. But you need someone beside you to keep things in order and keep you in line.

Yes, Copia’s mother had been encouraging him towards marriage for quite some time, even before he knew she was his mother; in some ways, it made more sense once that element came to light, though it did change the tone of her request quite a lot. It also made him take it much more seriously.

And now, it could be argued that this was basically her dying wish. He really had no other choice: he couldn’t put off a marriage any longer.

See, he’d never had a problem with the idea of it— he’d always imagined getting married some day, like most people seem to— but he wasn’t the luckiest in love. A broken heart or two (or five) had convinced him to focus more on his work with the church, and to be fair, no one could deny that the work had paid off. But, as they say, it gets lonely at the top: and now, he was the leader of the whole church, and he had no prospects or even romantic interests to speak of.

Fortunately, he had realized that because he was the leader, he didn’t need all that: all he had to do was say the word.

The announcement spread through the congregation like wildfire: the newly-minted Frater Imperator was going to get married. The part they neglected to mention— and the part everyone wanted to know the most— was to whom.

There were already plenty of rumors, which you avoided because you felt they were all baseless. Even within one day you’d heard three different stories about this mysterious future spouse, each more preposterous than the last: that he had a secret lover in the ministry he would wed, that he met a fan at a ritual and swept her off her feet, and that he had some previously unmentioned long-term girlfriend who wasn’t even in the church.

The wedding was less than a week away and all anyone knew was that everyone would be there.

Unfortunately, it was hard to ignore the gossip, even if you weren’t participating in it. The night when it all began, you were trying to read while several of the other Sisters were giggling amongst themselves over their various theories. “I wasn’t sure he’d ever marry,” someone admitted, “even though he could probably have anyone he wanted.”

“Not me,” one Sister announced smugly, “I never thought he was all that good-looking.”

“Oh please,” another scoffed incredulously, “you’d be on your knees in a second if you saw him at a ritual.”

“Besides, his looks aren’t the most important thing: this is the head of the clergy. Whoever he marries is probably going to be spoiled rotten!”

They laughed excitedly, and though you’d been trying to tune it out, you couldn’t help but wonder about it as well. The announcement had left so much unanswered, but the timing of it seemed too important to ignore. Perhaps the clergy had forbidden the Papa to marry— you weren’t aware of any rule against it, since to your knowledge none of them had ever tried— and so he’d had to wait until his time was complete to be with the person he loved. Perhaps it was the death of his mother that triggered it: at best, a renewed desire to find happiness and family when faced with a reminder of mortality; at worst, his mother hadn’t approved of his lover and only now was his final obstacle removed.

Ironically, after all those times you failed to ignore them before, it took the other Sisters several attempts to tear you out of your train of thought now: you blinked quickly and looked up from your book as you realized they were saying your name to get your attention.

“Hm?” you mumbled hazily when you looked at them.

“A message for you,” Sister Agnes informed you, leaning over to hand you a rolled parchment. You weren’t sure if it was private or not, but everyone was staring at you in anticipation— in fact, you noticed then that their entire conversation had died down to silence— and so you awkwardly unrolled it and read the writing inside.

MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY:

Frater Imperator and the clergy request your presence in the upper sanctum imminently.

As soon as you descended the stairway back to the mail halls of the abbey, a gaggle of Sisters descended on you, wide-eyed and desperate for gossip. “So?!” Sister Lilith asked expectantly, like the rest of her question should be obvious. “What was it about?”

“Was the whole clergy there?”

“U-uhm, all but Frater,” you replied shyly.

“What did they say?”

“Don’t be silly, ladies,” Sister Agnes scoffed, “it was obviously about the wedding. What else would there be meetings about today? They must want her to help in some way: communion, maybe?”

“Ooh! A bridesmaid!” another in the group suggested excitedly. “Do you know who he’s marrying?”

“Of course she knows!” someone answered for you. “Who is it? I was right, wasn’t I— it’s someone in the church!”

“Well… yes, I know who it is,” you mumbled, “but I… I’m not sure I’m permitted to speak on it.”

That was a lie, but you were too busy trying to process it all yourself to share it with anyone.

“Just tell us,” they begged. “You won’t get in trouble!”

“The wedding’s only a few days away,” Sister Lilith pointed out, “so there’s no point in it being a secret now— and if I’m right about who it is, Sister Magdalena owes me a fifty.”

“I’m sure you didn’t guess it,” you promised her.

But the questions just kept coming: “It is a woman, though, right?” “Is it someone you know? Wait, is it someone we know?” “

You realized that if you didn’t tell them now, they would either figure it out soon or be entirely blindsided at the ceremony. Not to mention that if you refused to answer their questions, they’d just keep grilling you until they got something. Your voice was actually quite feeble in that moment, not loud or strong enough to cut through all that chatter— but your words were enough to stop every question being thrown at you in its tracks.

“It’s me.”

You waited for them to react, but for a moment, they didn’t.

“I was asked to— to take the position,” you specified, putting it as vaguely as possible. I’m going to marry Frater Imperator was just as true but was just as hard to say as it was to wrap your head around.

They erupted into a variety of reactions, all of which at least had some element of shock involved. “I had no idea you were so close!” Sister Agnes exclaimed.

“We’ve… never even spoken…” you shyly replied, and the excitement quickly died down. You weren't offended by their quizzical stares; if anything, it was a relief to see some of them looking as confused as you felt.

Why did he choose her? you caught a few whispers in the back of the group. They're strangers? What makes her so special, then?

You wish you knew the answers to those questions.

That night as you laid in bed, you couldn’t do anything but replay the clergy meeting in your mind. You’d felt so small across the table from all of them; you had no idea air could feel so heavy and stiff, matching the tense energy as you waited for them to explain why you’d been summoned. As it all happened, you thought you would never forget every detail— but already you were losing your memory of what was said in what order, when exactly you realized you weren’t in trouble, how long it took you to believe what you were hearing.

Should we not court first? Or have a meeting, maybe? You had suggested. Frater does not feel it is necessary, a clergyman firmly replied.

And he’s not here now, because… you trailed off.

We all feel you should make this decision privately— in case his presence would sway you one way or another, a high Sister answered.

You could see the logic in that, and appreciated the concern for your uncoerced consent… except, of course, that this was an offer already impossible to say no to. They’d successfully convinced you that you wouldn't be punished for turning down the proposal, but the marriage itself had already been announced: if you rejected the offer, someone else would surely take your place. And for some reason, though the idea of going through with this terrified you, passing it up sounded even worse. Even just imagining another woman taking her place at his side… why did it bother you so much?

Because you will take your husband's title, but will not have decision-making power over the clergy, your title from henceforth shall be Sister Imperator Consortia.

It had a ring to it, but it didn’t feel like you— at least not yet. It felt too… formal, too important. Generally, people don’t join a convent and put on a habit because they’re intent on standing out, Satanic or not.

You told yourself that you needed to rest while you could, you had a busy week ahead starting with a dress fitting first thing tomorrow. But still, you hardly got a moment of sleep that first night; part of you thought if you shut your eyes long enough, you would wake up to learn this had all been some bizarre dream.

You couldn’t decide, though, if you’d be relieved or heartbroken if you awoke.

In some ways, the wedding mass was quite similar to how you’d always pictured yours would be… except for the attendance. You were sure you’d never met this many people in your life! Even tonight, you wouldn’t be able to meet them all!

But, of course, this was the social event of the year, if not decade, for any church member or Satanist: it only made sense that there were throngs of people not only in the church but outside, waiting to see the new couple.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, face obscured by the black veil, your eyes widened with the thought that you might be basically the Kate Middleton of Satanism in this moment…

Trading your opaque veil for one of lace, your loose and simple dress for a form-fitting and extravagant one made of dark red silk and sporting an over-the-top train, you wondered if you were going to be swallowed up by all this overwhelming intricacy, all this… pomp.

Taking a shaky breath, you tried not to imagine that everyone else watching you walk down the aisle would agree with you that you were horribly out of place. You wished you’d had a chance to understand why you were chosen— to even just meet the high Frater, but the clergy had insisted several times that he was too busy with his new duties and planning the wedding. Yes, your fiance was too busy planning your wedding to speak to you. It was all horrifically ironic, and irritating. So, as you turned and stepped out of the bridal suite, taking your bouquet of Dahlias from one of the Sisters assisting you, you thought to yourself if nothing else, at least I’ll get to finally try to understand all this by the end of the night.

The doors to the main hall opened for you, and there was no turning back.

It was a massive room, with easily a thousand people between you and the altar, but the very first thing your eyes fell on was Copia all the way at the other end of the aisle: the all black suit was no surprise, yet even from so far his white eye stood out prominently, and it was fixed on you.

Walking down the aisle took quite some time— you’d been reminded to take slow steps, as if you were just going to break into a sprint or something. You tried to keep your eyes ahead, and ignore all the eyes on you: people seated on the furthest ends of the pews leaned and stood on their tiptoes to try to get a glimpse, but between all the encouraging smiles you caught an occasional glare of disapproval… it seemed plenty of your siblings were jealous of or disappointed by you one way or another.

Adjusting your clammy hands slightly, you realized you were unintentionally holding a concerningly tight grip on the Dahlia stems and the ribbon they were wrapped with; that said, you were very thankful for something you do with your hands.

Your heart was pounding by the time you reached the front of the hall, where the priest, the clergy, and your betrothed waited for you at the altar. A Sister took your bouquet away to free your hands just as you passed the front row, and when you looked forward again there were only a few carpeted steps between you and… everything.

Copia surprised you by reaching forward— at first you weren’t sure what he meant by it, until you realized and quickly took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs. He was wearing those leather gloves you hardly ever saw him without, but even still, it was the first time you’d ever touched him; was his hand shaking? You couldn’t tell, yet it almost felt like it. Not to say that his grip wasn’t a strange sort of comfort in that moment; as he helped you up the stairs, you felt yourself relaxing slightly, despite being far from over with the hardest parts of this.

The first few minutes were just a matter of standing and waiting while the priest spoke: you wish you could say you remembered a damn word of it, he must’ve said something about love or marriages or… you know, all that. Whatever it was, you were relieved when it was over and you could move on to the communion and prayer— the more familiar parts, and the parts where you got to kneel. You were actually amazed that your legs hadn’t been noticeably wobbly so far, but they definitely could use a break.

In the time that your head was meant to be bowed in your prayer, you carefully opened your eyes and turned your head— just enough to take a peek at him quickly. Well, your intention was to be quick about it, but once you started looking, you became distracted rather easily. It was just that you'd never seen him so up close, you were sure: you'd never noticed the slope of his nose before, or how long his eyelashes were, or the shape of his lips in this profile—

Suddenly, as if he sensed your stare somehow, his eyes popped open and glanced over to return it. He gave you a half smirk as your eyes widened and you snapped your gaze back down to your clasped hands.

“...and may they be joined in unholy matrimony for all eternity,” the priest ended his prayer: “Nema.”

“Nema,” you and Copia and the rest of the congregation replied.

The penultimate step of the ceremony was the exchanging of the rings, which were extended towards you both on a little velvet pillow— it was actually kind of adorable, you thought.

You figured he might take his gloves off for you to put the ring on, but it was apparently designed to fit around them; alternately, you had to suppress a startled reaction to your own ring as he gently placed it on your finger. It was a massive ruby surrounded with onyx and black diamonds, intricate and completely unsubtle. You knew Copia had expensive taste, and it was certainly in keeping with such a lavish wedding, but you wondered if it would look entirely out of place on you for daily wear.

I’ll wear this ring every day, forever, you reminded yourself; you breathed out shakily as his hands held yours so tenderly for one more moment after your ring was in place.

And then there was only one thing left. The thing you’d been preparing yourself for since this morning— or perhaps since that fateful meeting with the clergy: the kiss.

It felt pretty melodramatic with him lifting your veil over your head, and it felt surreal to be in the part of this that you’d been imagining in hopes of preparing yourself. Of course, it was a little different than how you’d pictured it, most of all the look on his face: it was subtle, but he didn’t seem as serious or muted as you were used to. It wasn’t like he was grinning or anything— that would’ve actually been sort of creepy— but there was a small smile on his face.

You heard the priest say something about husband and wife but you weren’t paying attention, it all sounded distant somehow. And maybe you sort of psyched yourself up for this moment too much— maybe you wanted to get the wedding over with, maybe you were afraid if you didn’t commit fully that you’d end up instinctively backing away when he came closer and you’d both be humiliated in front of all these people.

There were other possible explanations for what you did, but for whatever reason, you all but threw yourself onto him and kissed him.

It only lasted for a few seconds, but that moment may as well have been frozen in time; it took him a second to react, his hands settling near your waist— and it took the crowd a moment too, but they began to clap and cheer for you both at some point.

Truthfully, you weren’t thinking much about how it felt to kiss him… you couldn’t, really, without losing focus on the point of all this. You weren’t here to have a nice kiss or meet someone you might like— you were here to serve a purpose, to fill a role. And that’s not to say you weren’t grateful, but you weren’t going to let yourself be distracted from your duty to the church.

You backed away as suddenly as you’d latched onto him, and when you opened your eyes after scrunching them shut during the kiss, you saw him looking at you with a bit of shock in his expression. Only then did you wince to yourself and wonder, was that too much?

He took your hand and turned to face the congregation, so you followed suit of course, and as he smiled and waved at them politely you were a little surprised to see them all standing and applauding. It definitely felt like a bigger crowd from this side of the cathedral…

You were almost frozen for a second, until you felt his hand guiding you down— he was already on the first step down, so you quickly picked up your skirt and followed him. You had wondered before if you would feel different walking back down the aisle with him, compared to when you processed on it alone. You weren’t sure if you really felt married or something— what would that even feel like?— but you did feel different.

You felt better, actually— relieved, happier, you even caught yourself smiling at the crowd, but it was hard not to with how… energetic they were. Despite not really knowing what to do with all that attention, you at least appreciated it, though it surely had little to do with you. They were cheering for him because he’s Copia— Frater, the former Papa, heir of the Emeritus bloodline— and they were only cheering for you because you’re his wife.

And no, just because you understood that logically didn’t mean it felt at all real yet.

Frater Imperator and Sister Imperator Consortia! you could hear the announcement echoing through the hall, though it was distant compared to the claps and hollers. You dared one glance at him by your side, thinking it might be easier than looking at this massive crowd around you, and found him already smiling at you; and with a warmth beginning to spread on your face, you let him guide you out of the doors, into the rest of the church submerged in nightfall.

After a crowded spectacle like that, the quiet of his chambers was quite a relief. So much so, actually, that it dampened some of that eerie, anxious feeling of being alone with Copia in his bedroom; it wasn’t quite as spacious as you would’ve assumed someone with his level of importance would have, but the ornate and luxurious furniture made perfect sense.

You were so caught up in taking it all in, almost entranced by the beauty all around you, that when he spoke it slightly startled you.

“That kiss,” he said suddenly. “Wow.”

It was just that his voice sounded so different like this: no microphone, no massive chapel, just one small room with stone walls. There was a brief pause as he ran his gloved hand over his hair, blowing air quickly out of his mouth, and you realized you should probably respond somehow: for some reason, your mind struggled to accept that he was speaking to you directly. “I’m sorry if I was too forward, I just—”

“No! No, not at all,” he laughed thinly, “no, you did very well. I’m sure today was… overwhelming for you.”

It felt good to just hear him confirm that: up until now, everyone in the clergy had been sort of acting like this was normal, never really acknowledging (let alone validating) your stress.

“If it’s any comfort, it was for me, too. And I’ve had a lot more experience with large crowds than you,” he added.

You smiled a little; “Yes, that’s true— but it must be different here, at home.”

“Mm,” he nodded, pondering that for a second. “It is. But it’s preferable in some ways, too— like now, being able to come back to my own space.”

You envied that a bit; you were likely never to return to your chambers across the building, and while you didn’t necessarily enjoy sharing that space with a dozen other Sisters, it was probably easier than sharing a bed with just one man.

Before you could get a little too caught up in that train of thought, he spoke again. “I can’t believe I haven’t already told you how exquisite you look in your dress,” he offered.

“O-oh, thank you,” you hummed, “I’m very fortunate, it’s a beautiful gown.”

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he informed you proudly. “I have excellent taste, no?”

“You do,” you agreed with a small laugh.

“And you liked the ceremony, I hope?”

“Yes, Papa,” you answered dutifully. “I-I mean, Frater.”

“Force of habit,” he noticed, “literally. But, I'm not Frater to you anymore, I'm your husband.”

That certainly made your heart skip a beat, even though you couldn’t imagine you had forgotten it in the last ten minutes. “So what should I call you, then?”

“Well, just my name should do,” he laughed slightly, seeming a bit surprised by the question. “Spouses call each other pet names from time to time, would you like that?”

You might have been able to think about that idea more clearly if his hand wasn't on your waist, petting along the curve of it absent-mindedly. “I… don't know,” you admitted, “I’ve never really tried it.”

“It will come naturally, I suppose,” he shrugged.

“So, it is a proper marriage then,” you realized.

“Hm?”

You wondered if you shouldn’t have said it aloud. “I-I just mean, I wasn’t sure at first… if maybe it was all political, you know,” you admitted. “A marriage for show, not necessarily of a personal nature, I guess.”

“If it were political, I would have been paired up with someone from another church, I imagine,” he explained, one of his eyebrows raising. “Did you think I chose you randomly?”

It felt pretty fucking random, you wanted to say, but that would have been a little bit harsh. Instead, you sat down on the edge of the bed (which was only a little cumbersome with your dress) and he copied you, sitting just a few feet away. “I’m so honored you chose me, Copia,” you began, feeling a little odd about using his name so casually, “but I just… I can’t imagine why.”

“The clergy asked me the same thing,” he recalled, “but they weren’t satisfied with my answer— I’m sure you won’t be, either.”

“Try me,” you encouraged.

“Well… I saw you once,” he explained slowly, “in a Mass— I gave you communion, do you remember that?”

“O-oh, yes, I think you’ve served me the elements a few times.”

“This was the first time,” he assured, “I know, because I thought to myself she must be new, if I’d seen her before I would’ve remembered it.”

You tried not to smile too wide, but you couldn't help some reaction. You never imagined you'd left such an impression on him.

“You looked up at me, and you just looked so sweet… I couldn’t get the image out of my mind, you on your knees before me…”

You crossed your legs tightly. “I mean, I remember that too, of course. But it’s because it was the first time I saw you in your papal robes— I was just one of hundreds, I didn’t even know you could tell us apart.”

“Well, you stood out to me— maybe it was fate, eh?” he smirked. But he was the head of the clergy, the most important man in the church: he made his own fate.

“And that’s it?” you realized sheepishly. “You thought I was pretty, or something, a few years ago and so you married me?”

“Not pretty, no— pretty is cheap, cara mia. You were enchanting.”

Was this flattery? It seemed too perfect to be totally genuine, but hell, he was smooth.

“I thought of you often,” he admitted, moving closer to you, “I imagined if I might have you to myself someday… and now I do.”

His gloved hand rested on your shoulder before carefully moving up to the back of your neck; he guided you towards him, slowly and patiently, looking into your eyes for a moment but taking longer to look at your lips.

You swallowed nervously once before letting your eyes fall shut.

The kiss was soft at first, but grew more intense with every moment; he breathed a little heavier through his nose and you could feel it against your face.

His arms wrapped around you, and it should've felt nice, like a loving embrace; it sort of did, it just also started to make you feel claustrophobic, forcing you to fight the urge to squirm out of his grasp.

You wanted to give into it, you wanted to let yourself melt into his arms… but as he held you tighter and kissed you harder, your heart started to race in a way that wasn’t pleasant anymore.

Pulling back and pushing against him, you broke away and hoped he wouldn’t be angry with you or hurt by your rejection. Fortunately, he let you move back as soon as you tried, and looked at you with an expression more of surprise than frustration.

“W-wait, I—” you mumbled nervously, willing your hands not to shake with nervousness. “It’s not that I don’t— we’ve only just— I do find you attractive, but—”

“We don’t know each other very well,” he finished for you. “It's alright, you seemed nervous already.”

“Yes,” you sighed, smiling with relief. “I just thought… maybe we could get to know each other better first, before we…”

“I didn't expect you to be so shy,” he noticed with a soft laugh. You were keeping close watch on his tone and, from what you could tell, he thankfully didn't sound too disappointed.

“I-I’m usually not,” you assured, “maybe compared to some other Sisters…”

“Well, that's a low bar,” he noted with a raised brow, “but anyhow, it doesn't bother me. I'm happy to wait until you're… more comfortable.”

You smiled a little, glancing away briefly. “Thank you,” you began, barely managing to stop yourself from calling him by a title again.

“I just hope you'll stay in my bed tonight— it's your bed, too, you know. Nothing else has to happen.”

“Of course,” you smiled, “I'd like that.”

He nodded shortly at you and moved as if he was going to get up, but you opened your mouth impulsively to speak— even if nothing came out right away— and he stopped.

“But, um— you could kiss me again,” you suggested quickly, before you lost the nerve. He smiled, with a certain sparkle in his eyes that made you squirm slightly against the bed.

His hand brushed under your chin gently, lifting your face until you were forced to look right up at him. “If it would please you,” he returned with a purr.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded; “Yes,” you insisted softly.

This kiss was slower, but no less intoxicating: he touched you like you were the most fragile thing, and the movements of his lips seemed to gently guide your own. You heard yourself sigh against him, and his thumb started to pet your jawline tenderly.

You remembered that moment clearer now, the one he described to you before. Taking communion from him, kneeling under him, waiting with an open mouth for him to deliver the mana to your tongue… the cool golden chalice against your lip and the bittersweet wine…

His other hand delicately landed on your lower back, and you opened your mouth wider, letting his tongue graze against yours.

When he pulled back, you found yourself leaning forward just for a second, chasing him for more. And he obviously noticed, it was clear from the way he smiled down at you. You wondered if he would indulge your desire for more— for a second, you imagined he might decide that you were more ready than you'd let on and take you right then and there. A little brutish, yes, but the idea tickled a certain corner of your brain.

But, no, he sat up straight and let out a short breath. “I'll get ready for bed,” he announced. “You should too— you've had a long day.”

You nodded back; “Yes, Papa,” you returned compulsively once again. “Damn it!”

“It seems you have a lot of new things to get used to,” he laughed.

More than you know, you thought to yourself as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

#rhrn spoilers #rite here rite now spoilers #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #frater imperator x reader #ghost bc fanfic

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bunnys-kisses · 7 months

Text

girl's place - simon "ghost" riley

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: You remembered playing with matches as a child. You also remembered playing with lighters as a teenager that was paired with the occasional shoplifting. You weren't a problem child, but you had you niches of delinquency.

And somehow you ended up in the military. While most were in active duty, you found comfort on base working in the offices. Most of the day was spent filing paperwork. But unlike most of your fellow soldiers, you had a shadow. Or perhaps a ghost.

If the military didn't scrub away the delinquent behaviour that lingered from youth, Simon Riley made sure you were next to saintly.

tags: pwp, power dynamic, rough sex, punishment, spitting, spanking, degrading, a touch of misogyny (aka a lot of it), mean!ghost, breeding kink

a/n: okay, i want to apologize to feminism...

join my discord! (18+)

You remembered playing with matches as a child. You also remembered playing with lighters as a teenager that was paired with the occasional shoplifting. You weren't a problem child, but you had your niches of delinquency.

If the military didn't scrub away the delinquent behavior that lingered from youth, Simon Riley made sure you were next to saintly.

You knew you were in trouble the moment you stepped foot in your ghost's quarters. Simon was there in his baklava, a tank top that showed off all the toned muscles of his arms, and uniform pants. It was probably as casual as he could get.

He was reading something you didn't get the title of before he put it down and rose from his desk. You could see the assortment of weapons, mainly knives on the desk. It made you swallow nervously.

”Hello, love.“ He said as he approached you. He was so much bigger than you, not only in height but in sheer size. It always put him in the more domineering position.

”Hello, Simon.“ You replied.

You could feel his smile under the mask. You shifted from one foot to another. He took you by the chin and made you face him.

”A little birdie told me that you've been misbehaving.“ He tilted his head to the side, “You know how I feel about bad girls.“

Your eyes darted in another direction, ”It wasn't even that bad.“

He chuckled softly, ”Getting a little too aggressive with the new recruits is quite bad. I heard a few had to go into the infirmary.“ He paused for a moment, ”You should be in your office doing your paperwork. Not training the new men. You're simply too small.“

”I'm not that small.“ You tried to correct it.

He replied, ”If not small then weak. If they got a good right hook in then I'd have to go kill someone.“ He then added, ”Look at me when I'm talking to you.“

You had no choice but to look at him once more. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, then pulled his mask up which was followed by him leaning down for a kiss. He further invaded your space and made you feel smaller. Weaker, even.

You moaned into the kiss, it was firm. But not wet and messy. He wrapped his other arm around you and pulled you close to him. With your bodies pressed together, you could feel his erection in his uniform pants.

”Simon.“

”It's sir tonight. You don't get the privilege of using my name when you're being a stupid girl.“ He growled. He really didn't like you out of the office and possibly in the line of danger.

You whimpered in response and you leaned into him for another searing kiss. You wrapped your arms around him and kept your eyes closed as you kissed him. You whimpered when his grasp tightened once more.

When he pulled away and put the mask back up. Those hard eyes stared down at you. He waited for a moment before he reached behind you and grabbed the meat of your ass.

”Now are you gonna be a good girl, or stand there?“ You could tell he was raising his eyebrows. He used both hands to grab at your ass, then he left a quick smack across the cheek. “Get to it.”

You scurried to the desk and pulled down your pants. Which left you bottom half bare except for the pretty pink panties you wore. A drastic difference between the uniform pants you wore and the delicate underwear that was underneath them.

But only he knew you wore them. You said they were comfortable, but he believed that it was because you liked to tease him. The little secret you shared.

He was close behind. And from behind you, he grabbed your throat and pulled the panties down to your knees. He then guided you forward. Some of the paper on the desk was shoved to the edges to make room for you. You felt a heat run through you as you were manhandled.

It was him trying to send a message, you were simply a weak little girl. And you had to listen to the much bigger, stronger man. Even when he tried to teach you this lesson, it never seemed to stick. You were dead set on defying, Simon.

Such a silly girl.

He kept his hand on your throat, the calloused fingers remained firm on your skin. Not enough to bruise you, but enough to keep you in your place. Once again, a reminder.

He was the dominant one in the relationship. The one who wore the 'pants'. You didn't have to worry your little head about anything while he was around.

You just had to sit there and go 'yes, sir'. And let him fuck you silly once in a while.

“You've been a bad girl, lovie.” He said in your ear, “You go around with your head held high. You think you're above it all, that you are Miss Wonder Woman who can do it all.” He chuckled darkly in your ear, “But I know better.”

You swallowed, “Simon.”

“No, no.” He said, “I know you better than yourself. You've been told your entire life that you can do anything you put your mind to. That you're unstoppable. No man can clip your wings.” He slapped your ass, the sound filled the room.

You let out a whimper.

“I know what you want. Tired of proving yourself. Tired of fighting to be the top dog. I'm pretty sure if I told you I bought us a little place in the country, you'd have your bags packed by the count of four.“ His voice was low, in contrast with the loud noise of his slaps.

Your cheeks grew warm from his words. Inside of you there was a war waging between him being right and him being wrong. But you'd never admit to him that he was right. You'd branish your teeth and prove your worth till he fucked the drive out of you.

”You know I'm right. You'd be in the car by the count of ten.“ He chuckled once more, ”Living out in the country, away from this. You'd be my wife, my little doll I kept safe at home. No need to play with the big boys when you can play house all day. Isn't that what most women want?“

”No.“

”Liar.“ He laid another slap on your ass, ”You know I hate liars.“ His voice was laced with venom, a hot rush went through you as he tightened his hold on your throat a little more.

”I enjoy my job.“

”But you'd enjoy raising my brats more.“ He replied.

The thought of him breeding you made your stomach flip and your pussy grow wetter. You felt flushed in the apples of your cheeks as he continued to swat at your ass.

He kept you pinned in place, he knew that he held power over you. You were just a dumb little girl trying to play with the big boys. But he knew better.

He laid a few more smacks across your ass as he continued his dirty talk. He wanted to make you as flustered as possible before he put you in your place.

”Poor little girl who never got the attention she needed, comes crawling to the biggest man on base and has him fuck all the girl power shit outta her. Makes her a dumb little doll droolin' on my cock. You should be at home makin' me dinner.” His voice was hot. It left you trembling.

You tried to form a comeback but your mind drew to a blank. Your heart was racing and your ass was sore. You felt your body tremble from the situation you found yourself in. If your head was clearer you would've fought back with whatever he said. But instead you were second guessing yourself if he was right.

“Yeah, you know I'm right, girlie.” His voice was dangerous and low again. He could probably hear your heartbeat, “Ra ra girl power cannot kill the idea that your place is between my legs, in a home I bought, raising the kids I put in ya.”

“Simon.”

“Don't start. You'll never win. So accept it, let me be the big strong man. You can be the cute little homemaker I fill up every evening.” He purred as he massaged your ass cheek with his strong hand, “Pretty girls like you should be kept dumb. Keep ya young.”

You let out a small whimper as you felt him grab into the muscle of your ass. His grip was hard and left you trying to buck away from him. But from the grip on your throat, you weren't going too far.

“I could take you out.” You gave one last ditch effort to prove him wrong. You were stubborn like that. Like when you were told to stop playing with matches. When someone told you 'no', you doubled down.

He squeezes your throat once more and pushes you down onto the desk. Not hard enough to knock a tooth out, but enough to physically put you in your place. He laughed. It came from deep in his chest. Your comment HUMORED him. He leaned over you, his clothed cock up against your back. He was dangerous now, “Stupid little girl. They all think like that, but yet I'm still here. Everyone thinks they can kill a ghost. But not even a man could do it. What makes you think a silly little girl would be able to? I bet if I fucked you hard enough, you'd forget how to even hold a gun.”

You swallowed and squirmed under his rough touch, “Fuck you.”

“Oh no, girlie. I'm going to fuck you. And I'm going to make sure that it all takes. Hard to be on the field when you got two little Riley boys inside of ya.” It was almost a threat.

And yet you were aroused.

He rubbed his cock up against your ass more. Some of the wetness from your pussy smeared against the front of his uniform pants. He shuddered in response, he too was getting aroused.

He had you by the back of the neck now to keep you pinned to the wood of the desk. Under his rough touch, where you belonged.

“I know you better. I know you want that kind of life. I know you hate this, that's why you're always actin' up. So I punished you, the only one who'll stand up to you. Maybe I should breed ya sooner rather than later. Leave you all achy and sore because my brats won't give you a moment of peace. Then you leave the army and move somewhere quiet to raise the hellions. But we're not stopping at two.” He let go of you to undo his pants, “I'm thinkin' closer to five. Something to keep your hands full.”

You stayed still as he got his impressive cock out his pants. You trembled as he rubbed it up against you, occasionally brushing against your pussy. You whimpered pathetically, which only made him chuckle.

“Stupid girl.” He said.

“Please.” You whimpered.

He smirked under the mask, “You'll learn.” Then with one hand on your neck and the other on his cock. He guided his length into your sweet sex.

You tensed up and shifted as best as you could to make the stretch more bearable. It still stings every time. It felt like it pushed your organs into your throat. Especially when he was battering your poor cervix.

He groaned, it came from deep in his chest as he felt your tight heat around his cock. It felt so good. It was a rush he couldn't find anywhere else.

“See, a nice hole to fuck. A nice womb to breed. Now stay there and let me do all the work. Just try not to wake up the whole base by being a loud mouth whore.” His voice stung but it only made the slick between your legs grow.

Simon was something else in the bedroom. When he had you under his thumb like this. You felt your eyes roll back a little from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Fuck.” You moaned.

“That's it, that's my girl. My good girl. See you don't have to be runnin' around like a lost puppy. You just need me to fill your holes and make ya feel good.” His voice was low and gruff. It made you hot all over.

“Please, Simon.” You arched your back as his pace became brutal. You clawed at the wood of the desk and felt his hard cock bully against the end of your pussy.

“I wanna mark ya, inside and out.” He said, “Keep ya nice and fat with my kids.” He chuckled as he pulled the mask up once more and began to kiss at your neck. His hands were on your breasts over your shirt.

He toyed with them, large hands massaged them. You let out a small noise from the tiny bit of pain he caused you. You arched your back more and held onto the desk tighter.

The sounds of sex filled the air between you two as he fucked you bareback. He was so domineering, so strong that it made you a little weak in the knees.

“You're mine, lovie. Mine to fuck, breed, own.” He grunted, “No need to think with that head of yours when you got kids to chase down. At home, safe and sound. Where you belong.”

You whimpered and tried to come up with a response. But it was near impossible to come up with something when it felt like his cock was nudging up against your broca area in your head.

“Please.”

He chuckled darkly, “That's what I thought. Good girl.” He continued his rough pace. The desk creaked under the both of you as he held you tightly against him. His hands grabbed at your breasts further.

You wondered how dark the bruises would be on your chest.

“I can't get enough of you. That's why I have to keep ya safe. Keep you bred like a good girl, you'd like that wouldn't ya.”

“Simon, ah!” You whimpered as you felt pleasure course through your body. You felt trapped between his thick body and the heavy wood of the desk as he battered against your womb.

He kissed your neck once more, “You'd look so good. Knowing I take care of everything. You just have to sit there and look pretty. Cook me some meals, put the kids to bed and stop this little goal of being the best.”

You swallowed. When he praised you like this, when you behaved you were his good girl. When he was able to soak your insides with his cum, you were his favorite girl.

He'd only breed a good girl. Not the delinquent you once were. He wanted a proper wife, who'd raise his kids RIGHT. He watched your back arched and came to the conclusion that you COULD behave.

You just needed a full womb first to reach your potential.

The two of you continued to fuck. You let out small moans as your body was used like a toy. Simon made sure to make you feel good even if it felt like he was moving your stomach into your throat.

“Good breedin' girl.” He purred, “I make you good, silly girls like you need to be kept bred so you keep out of trouble. But don't worry, I'll make that happen. Nothing won't fix ya like a couple of kids and a big house.”

You whimpered and he turned your head to him so you could passionately make out. He rutted against you and your body screamed for him.

You gasped into the kiss as he grabbed your hips one more time. The sound of the desk scratching against the floor mixed with your noises and the general noises of sex was all you could hear in the room.

“Please.” You moaned. You had been told your entire life that you could do anything. That you were invincible. Nothing could stop a powerhouse like you. As Simon said, ra ra girl power. But a part of you deep in your core wanted to be a dumb little housewife, servicing a husband and keeping the babies taken care of.

You moaned into the kiss once more before he pulled away and grabbed you by the hair and pulled your head back. He leaned in and took in your scent.

“I want to ruin you for other men.” He said honestly. His own primal urge to breed with the little girlie hanging around the base.

If he didn't breed you and kept you taken care of, then a worse man would. One who didn't know every inch of your skin, or didn't understand what your true intentions in life were.

But he'd take care of you, that was a promise. Nothing was going to stop him from taking what was his. And if he kept your womb nice and painted, then no other man could do it. He'd make sure you reeked of his cum at all times.

“Ah!” You gasped.

“Good girl.” He purred.

You felt pleasure begin to run through your body. Your body ached for him. Your legs trembled as he continued to thrust deep into you. It was a good kind of pain, the kind that left you panting.

“Fuck.” He grumbled, “Fuckin' good girl for me.”

“Please, Simon. Ah! Breed me.“ You groaned in response. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and left you in a state of euphoria.

You two panted and groaned as your bodies moved together. You held onto the wood and let him do as he wished with your body.

After all, he knew better.

With a few more hard thrusts, you both finished at the same time. You could feel his hot cum deep in you. You whined as you went flat against the desk, your brain felt like it had broken in half from the intense feeling.

Simo slowed down and laid on the last smack on your ass before he pulled the mask down. He held your hips and gave one last push inside of you to make sure it was all inside of you.

He chuckled and pulled out, ”Good girl.“ He said, ”Now take it all and make me a few brats. If not, we'll just keep trying'.“

His breathing was heavy as he pulled you away from the desk and got your underwear over your ass. THe drips of cum that spilled out made a dark patch on the front of the panties.

Your head was in a daze, your hair a mess. You couldn't even keep your mouth fully closed. He pushed back your hair and pulled you into his arms.

”Alright my stupid little wife, why don't you come back to your senses before I send you out.“ His hand dipped back into your pants as he played with your clit.

Maybe he'd need to take you a few more times before it all took? That didn't sound like a bad idea. Keep you out of the office and in his bed till there was no choice but for you to get pregnant.

A shiver ran through him at the thought. He agreed with himself. That did sound like a good idea.

Anything to keep his dumb little girl nice and bred.

xoxo, bunny

#bunny writes #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #pwp #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #cod modern warfare

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