#kid flash x male!reader

[writing-mlm]

If you don't mind me asking

Could you please write Wally west x reader? (If not that's alright!)

I absolutely love your writing and there's so little Wally west x m!reader fanfics

Hope you have a lovely rest of your Day/Night or Evening :)

Everyone but you

Summary: Wally notices the newest addition and his quirks, quickly finding himself attached to his hip. Pretty soon, they're attached at the hips and his best friend can't seem to notice. Or After joining The Team, Wally worms his little redhead into your life. Pairing: Wally West x male reader WC: 12.2k TW: religious trauma, implied sex, references to child neglect, lowkey yj slander if you squint a/n: i was close to making this longer but Im p sure tumblr has a word limit LOL

Wally saw the little things, how could he not? Life was in slow motion for him, he’d be the worst speedster to ever exist if he didn’t naturally have faster reaction times. 

They’re practical, both off and on the field. Off the field, he notices when his food is about to drop onto the floor when a bird is about to swoop in and steal his food— it's good for saving his food. And you. 

He remembers when you joined the team. One month after The Team was officially recognized by the JLA Bruce and Diana had shown up with you nestled in between the two of them. You were almost bored, twiddling with your phone as he could faintly hear the music through your chunky headphones as Batman explained you were the ward of Doctor Light— not the bad guy, the woman with the super cool light powers. 

He’d made a stupid joke, calling you Nurse Light, not thinking you’d actually hear him over but for a millisecond he saw you smile. And a millisecond was enough for him.

The others weren’t too sure about a new team member, especially after learning that your powers were a lot like Enchantress. Powers via possession weren’t all that popular, go figure. Especially when you hardly ever spoke to anyone but your reflection. 

Needless to say, your introduction to The Team was rough, especially after your first mission. It was difficult but extremely successful and everyone was going to celebrate by having a pizza party. Wally had picked them up in a minute flat, it would’ve taken less time but he had to pay in cash and when he returned everyone was still on their way to the kitchen. 

But as everyone dipped inside the kitchen, you kept walking. 

“You don’t want pizza?” M'gann asks, the first to notice your absence. You don’t look back as you’re giving her a thumbs down that the others frown at. 

“I’ll save him a slice,” Wally was the only one to notice how your hand kept twitching as you were walking away. Rightfully assuming that you didn’t want the others to know about the quirk, he hurriedly sets out the pizza boxes on the large kitchen island. 

While the others are talking over their pizza, he grabs a plate and guesses what you’d like. He ends up on one extra cheese and one pepperoni; he could always go back if you wanted more or anything else. He also grabs one of the drinks and makes his way to the dorms of Mount Justice. 

Knocking once and then twice, his eyes flicker about. Unsure of what to do, he leans closer to the door. 

“Ah, hey, (Y/n). It’s me, Wally, I brought you pizza.” He says, just below a shout. The door opens before he walks away and you stand there, a little frazzled. He catches several things in the span of a second. He sees how your breathing evens out, how you try and block his view of the mess you made, and how your eyes twitch. They do that whenever the woman possessing you, whom you’ve only referred to as Sculk, talks to you. 

“Thank you,” But you don’t move to grab the plate until he hands it to you. He catches that the tips of your nails are suddenly sharp and a deep black color. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like but—“ He trails, his eyes finding yours again. 

“It’s fine,” You nod, the smile on your face short and fleeting. “But you should return to the others. They’d like your presence more.” He doesn’t take it in a serious manner. Truly he doesn’t think you meant harm by your words, he understands that now simply isn’t a good time and you need to be alone. 

“Okay, if you want more, just send down a message.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s in the elevator. You don’t look to see him, favoring having your door closed again. 

—

Sculk, as no one has pointed out, is named from Minecraft, and appears to you as a bioluminescent blue ghost, covered in a fog of black smoke. She’s nice enough, aside from the constant chatter you have to endure from her. But the trade-off is good, you never get peace and quiet but you get super cool powers.

Like June Moone, finding Sculk was nothing short of an accident. You’d been young, inside the Appalachian Mountains when you stumbled across a cool-looking rock. It was black with crackles of an unnatural blue, seemingly carved to look like a fallen leaf. It wasn’t until you had returned to the car that it broke, releasing Sculk into you. 

While it was cool that you had powers and spoke to someone only you could see, your family didn’t see it as such. Small-town churchgoers didn’t seem to take to the idea of possession and after almost two months you’d run away. 

Self-isolation was tough, but was harder was introducing yourself back into groups of people. 

“Down for a game?” Dick asks, waving a spare controller as you exit the kitchen, digging into a bowl of fruit covered in chocolate syrup. Looking at the game, you see it’s some first-person shooter game, and then down at your bowl. Your fingers are already covered in the sauce and sticking together. 

“No.” You’ve never played that game, and besides, you wouldn’t want chocolate syrup on their belongings. Dick frowns at your bluntness while Conner shares a look with Artemis. 

“You can just watch,” Wally offers, grabbing the remote Dick grabbed. “Or watch me.” He adds with a wink. Only his eyes catch your lips turning up into a smile before you look off for a moment. 

He takes that as a win, even if you once again say no before disappearing. 

—

It takes about three months after that incident for you to join the others on their game nights. That night in particular was another game you’d never seen before; you were more acquainted with board games and whatever games were on a Gameboy you found in the woods. 

Admittedly, you’re frustrated that you don’t understand the controls, that your grip isn’t quite right on the controller, and that you don’t even know what’s happening. It’s a multiplayer game with one point of view, you’d picked some random character that made Wally laugh. Some blue animal with a pair of red shoes. He picked a small pink thing. 

“You’re worse than M’gann!” Dick laughs, nudging your shoulder as you’re the first to die again. Everyone else laughs (was it at you or with Dick?) and you swallow your words, staring at your controller. Your eyes burn and you aren’t sure why. 

It’s a learning curve, kid. Sculk reassures you and you feel her petting your head. 

You felt like shit whenever you denied the others, you wanted to hang out with them. It seemed like fun. But you clearly weren’t the best company. The others are doing good, encouraging each other while also doing their best to win. They’re cheering and laughing, having side conversations in between their shouting and groaning. No one seems to notice your lack of mental attendance, you suppose it’s hardly different from when you’re there or not. 

Fuck it, you should’ve just said no again. Saved yourself the embarrassment. 

When you’re about to get up and leave, Wally places a hand on your arm. It was risky, in his eyes. No one has actually come into physical contact with you, as strange as it sounds. 

“Pick Mewtwo next time,” Wally whispers when his character dies for the second time. “I’ll teach you the controls, just hang on.” Nodding, you watch as he throws himself off the platform and the others don’t question it. One less person to fight against. With his character officially dead, he turns his attention onto you. 

“You gotta hold it like this,” He grins but doesn’t laugh at the way you hold the controller. “For max efficiency, most people hold it like this.” Following the way he’s holding it, he nods and sets his controller down. He then tells you the basic moves you need to know, explaining that for now, you need to focus on getting a grip on that before he moves on special moves. 

It takes maybe four rounds before you finally win. 

“You did it!” You grin when you realize that Mewtwo is the final one on the platform. Wally will never admit that he had spent the entire game making sure you didn’t die, he swears that to himself when he sees you smiling for more than a split second. How you’re much more relaxed than before, enjoying the company of everyone as they congratulate you. 

The games continue, you play several others but your favorite is the volleyball game. You won that one all by yourself. Nearly undefeated, the others were fighting each other to be on your team. 

“You should join us more often,” Artemis tells you as everyone decides it’s time to go to bed. Dick is in charge of putting everything up since apparently, everyone else breaks the consoles when they do. Hell, Conner had broken the controller ten times throughout the night. 

“I know, right!” Wally grins, slinging his arm over her shoulder. She shrugs him off but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Perhaps,” You nod. “Peaceful night, all.” And then you’re gone. 

When Wally is inside of his room he sees something on his pillow. 

Thank you for teaching me how to properly play, Wallace. 

-(Y/n) 

He grins at the note and sets it on his desk before he pauses. 

How the fuck did you put that there? 

—

Admittedly, you’re much closer with Wally than the others on The Team. For whatever reason, they don’t seem to like you. Perhaps it’s a natural thing, they’ve instinctively kept their distance. Your nature scares them, perhaps. Maybe Wally’s instincts weren’t as tuned in as the others, perhaps he hadn’t looked the gifted horse in the mouth. 

In truth, you wanted nothing more than to be a part of their group. But you’d missed a key part of growing up, without much time spent around others, perhaps… you came off strange. You’ve read about it before, stunted emotional growth. The inability to interact with peers. 

Not with Wally, though. 

He basks in the fact that he’s the only one you’ve willingly allowed into your room. It’s dark, just as your room was in the cabin somewhere in the middle of the woods. For some reason, he just knows that you hate the large overhanging lights, how you prefer the natural light of the sun but living inside of the mountain doesn’t allow for that. 

Instead, his eyes flicker to the lamps around your room. Placed in odd spots that lit up the room wonderfully when they were on. 

“Dick wants everyone downstairs,” He struggles to tell you, hating the fact that he’s ripping you away from your solace. That you’d been engrossed in creating a paper mache sun and moon. You look up at him, glue dripping from your hands. “There’s a mission request from Batman.” He explains when he sees that look on your face. It’s hard to explain but he knows your expressions by now. 

Call him an expert or whatever, it’s just a little something- something he can do that no one else can. Not that he’s bragging. 

“Thank you, Wallace.” Standing up, he watches as you use your magic to clean the mess from your hands. 

“What’re you making?” He asks as the two of you walk out of your room. 

“I heard that Raquel’s birthday was coming up,” You explain, picking at the skin around your nails. “Everyone likes the sun and moon, no?” It’s not intentional, at least Wally doesn’t think it is. But you’re admitting, in your own way, that you don't know much about her and you’d like to. And if they permit, the others, too. 

“They’re pretty important,” He agrees, smiling over at you. “Just so you know, my birthday is January 16th and I love food.” 

“Noted.” 

—

Raquel’s birthday had come and passed, she was surprised by your gift but accepted it all the same. You’d given it to her when the party was over, feeling there was no proper time to give it. No one else had, so you weren’t sure what to do. 

For Wally’s birthday only two weeks later, he’d been the opposite. He had a small table dedicated purely to gifts, his eyes shining brightly when he had seen a neatly wrapped box in your arms. 

He’d wanted a simple cake, but it was weird. A pink cake with a white border and rainbow sprinkles everywhere, on the edge was a large dollop of green icing with what you assumed were two arms and legs, and the black icing used for the eyes was sliding off. Behind the small creature was the word Forg. He does know it’s spelled frog, right?

That’s the joke. Sculk tells you as you stare at the word with disbelief. Oh, that makes more sense. It’s funny, now that you think about it. Such a silly little icing frog. 

Basking in the attention on himself, Wally dances along to the Happy Birthday song. Although he almost missed it, he caught how you watched him with a smile that lasted longer than a millisecond. 

When it’s time for him to open his gift, he loves everything. The food, the gear, and the tech. For some reason, he’d waited to open yours last and for some stranger reason, you were nervous. Anxious, even. 

“What is it?” He grins, ripping open the paper. Glancing at you, he winks and opens the box. Staring for a moment you worry you’ve done the wrong thing. His reaction is minimal compared to what it had been for the others. “Holy shit!” He gasps, pulling out a set of plates. There are five there and he only looks at the top one; designed to look like an orange slice. He then pulls out the plates that could also be bowls, and then the bowls. 

“Where’d you find these?” He grins, looking through all of the designs. He especially loves the silly little smiley faces on some of the items. 

“I made them,” You correct. “There’s more inside.” Digging inside, he pulls out various utensils. Each of them has their own design, like the alligator knife and the shell spoon. He thinks he likes the Nunchuck chopsticks the most, though. 

“You know me so well!” He gushes, pulling you into a tight hug. For a moment, you freeze. Your whole body tenses but there’s something about the hug, something about him that makes you relax and hug him back. 

Oh no. Sculk mutters but doesn’t explain further. 

—

The moment Wally knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that you like him back is when there’s a fan flirting with him. The two of you were walking together, forced to pair up by Dick and look around for possible leads. The girl, who Wally would admit is his type (everyone is if he’s being honest), clearly meant no harm by the flirting. If he was her, he’d definitely flirt with himself, too. 

But all he could focus on was the fact that your nostrils flared, you looked her up and down, picking apart her appearance in your head before looking away, and then looked at Wally, trying to see if he was showing signs that he was interested. 

A part of him wanted to entertain her; just to see your reaction but he didn’t. He was happy enough that you were jealous. 

“I’m sorry,” Wally stops the girl mid-sentence. “It was nice meeting you but we need to get back to work.” Testing the waters, Wally places his arm across your shoulder. When you don’t move, he takes that as another win. 

“I’m sorry,” The girl tucks her hair behind her ear, shrinking away. “Have a good day, Kid Flash, Ward.” Nodding, you watch as she leaves before looking at Wally. 

“I don’t like her,” He says and your face nearly lights up before you relax again. 

“How’d you know I was going to ask?” You ask, walking ahead to continue your search. He, of course, keeps pace and mindlessly plays with the ends of your hair.  

“There’s someone better for me.” He grins, awfully close to your face. You frown, that wasn’t your question. Sculk groans loudly and you roll your eyes. 

The kid is flirting fuck the question, kid! 

She screams into your ear and you wince. She’s never really yelled that loud before. Is he, though? She groans louder at that thought and you feel the wind smack your head. 

Wally, feeling the harsh breeze, looks behind the two of you. 

“It was Sculk,” You admit and he raises his eyebrows.

“How can she use her powers without you?” He asks. “I know June Moone has control until she says Enchantress, but you don’t?” Nodding, the two of you turn a corner. 

  “We’re partners.” Sculk awes inside your head. “She gets to experience human life, I get powers.”

“Seems a little unfair,” He admits. “Couldn’t she just take over?” 

“She can,” Nodding, you look down at your hand and flex it. It feels as if she’s tugging your hand around, moving each of your fingers. “But she’s not like the witch. She takes over if it’s needed or if I use too much at once and need her rapid assistance.”

“Like that time with the pizza…” The black nails, that’s probably the curse of her true form. He sorta hopes it’s the curse. 

“Yes. Her powers are a curse that I have built up a solid immunity to, but sometimes it’s too much for me.” Your hands flicker with the reddish-purple magic Wally has grown accustomed to seeing. In the magic, he sees a bird forming and watches as it flies away when it’s fully formed. 

“And if she takes over completely?” Wally looks back at you, worried about your answer. As cool as the idea seemed, he knows he’d hate it if he had to fight a possessed you. If Sculk decides she is done with Earth and tries to end it like Enchantress had done before. 

“I wouldn’t know,” You admit as if it’s nothing. “Full control means the other goes dormant until the other sees fit.” It doesn’t ease his fears but he lets it go. 

The main focus for him is that he’s finally gotten more than a sentence out of you. 

Score! 

—

“He’s so in love with me,” Wally grins to Dick, dragging out the ‘so’ while he’s working on his science homework. They’re both in Dick’s room, Wally laying on Dick’s bed while Dick is working on his laptop. Something about detective work for a case he’s working; boring with a capital B-O-R-I-N-and-G. 

“Is he?” Dick asks, sparing Wally a glance. As the team leader Dick swears that he knows his teammates pretty well and you… he seriously doubts Wally is your type. He’s loud, outspoken, adventurous, and quite frankly, Dick couldn’t imagine the two of you together. When he tried to picture you dating someone, he imagined that you’d end up with someone like his father. Not his best friend.

“He told me ‘Don’t eat so fast, you’ll choke’! That’s an admission of love,” Despite hearing his own words out loud, Wally stands by his statement. Huffing, Wally officially puts his homework on pause. “He made me a full kitchen set for my birthday. He learned all the characters of Mario Kart for me. Who does he like being paired with? Me. I get him, he gets me,” He says, his voice a little smaller in the end. He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard for Dick and the others to understand that you’re not some type of robot or a time traveler from 1703. 

It’s been a year since Wally was sure of your feelings, a year of him hopelessly falling deeper for you. A year of pure torture, honestly! 

“I just want to make sure you aren’t reading into this,” Dick sighs, facing his friend. His expression is sullen, hurt that Dick doesn’t believe him. Believe that you’re capable of loving him. “I mean, how often do you talk to him? Does he talk back? More than a one-word response, I mean.” He rolls his shoulders back, trying to alleviate the tension building in them. 

“Oh my god,” Wally sighs as if he’s had this conversation a million times. “Is being quiet suddenly a crime? And you never took the time to talk to him, I did. He’s very funny,” He says that last part the same way a child tells an adult that they know a secret that the adult doesn’t know. 

Dick goes to talk but someone knocks on the door. 

“Come in,” He sighs, their conversation officially put on pause. The door opens and Dick nearly swears you’d been listening through the vents because you stand at the door. 

“Hello, Robin, Wallace,” You call, your eyes cast towards the floor. “Can we talk, in private?” Wally nods, closes his notebook, and follows after you. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks as the two of you enter your room. It’s the same dark that it always is, but it’s a mess. Things are thrown about and there are burn marks surrounding an outline of someone kneeling. The door closes and you stand in front of him, eyes bleary and lip quivering. 

“I read that men shouldn’t cry,” You tell him, unable to look at him as you speak. “Sculk tells me that I should cry.” You add, barely catching Wally’s eyebrows furrow. 

“I cry,” He offers, guiding you to your bed. “Superman cries! Batman cries… plenty of men cry. Why are you…?” Sitting down, you scoot back until your entire body is on the bed. 

“I found out my parents died.” As you say it, your face twists and you scrub your face. He frowns and hugs you. It doesn’t take more than a second before you hug back. “I hated them, they abandoned me. Called me names, vicious and foul. I shouldn’t be crying,” You ramble into his shoulder, your head shaking and his shirt getting damp. 

“It’s normal to mourn,” He coos, rubbing your back. “You loved them, even if it was a long time ago.” 

“I do not wish to feel this,” You admit and he nods. In truth, he doesn’t know how to help you. But he tried his best. 

“When my grandfather died I hadn’t been on the best terms with him. He’d… I found out that he ran a… blog of sorts that spoke about his hatred for heroes. For the speedsters. He called us names and I broke. I stopped talking to him and yelled at him whenever he tried to talk to me. The man I knew had died that day. But when he died for real,” He sighs, staring at the wall. “I knew there was no going back,” His voice goes soft as he tries not to think about him too much. 

“They should’ve loved me, he should’ve loved you.” You mutter, removing yourself from the hug. “Why weren’t they capable of loving us?” Frowning, he shrugs and wipes the tears from your face. 

“It’s better that we don’t know. But you are capable of being loved. Sculk loves you, and Dr. Light loves you. I like you, Artemis likes you—“

“I doubt that,” You huff, fixing yourself before looking around your room. “I apologize for my appearance and the mess of my room. The sudden despondency caused my actions to become rash,” With a spell, your room fixed itself. 

“You should see my room,” He laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. Staring at him, you smile and look away. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.” Not that you thought he would’ve. 

“Thank you, Wallace. You’re a great company, your grandfather was wrong about whatever he had talked out his ass about.”

“You cursed?” He belts out a laugh and you raise an eyebrow, snickering at his reaction. 

“I am grown enough to curse, Wallace! This isn’t the Regency era!” Never did you think you’d have to defend the fact that you cursed. And yet, here you are. 

“Isn’t it?” He grins. “If you had a British accent, you’d make the perfect actor for Bridgerton!” 

“What is that?” 

Wally, having deemed that a crime, insists that you have to watch the show. He drags you out of your room and into his. It isn’t as messy as he had led you to believe. Some thrown-around items, an unnamed bed, and empty bottles on the desk. But he quickly fixed the bed and grabbed his laptop before placing it in between his two pillows. 

“Wall or open?” He asks, pointing to the two available spots. You look between them before pointing to the wall. “Hurry! You gotta watch the show!” Tugging you over to his bed, you climb in and sit with your legs crossed. He doesn’t comment on it, aside from saying your back is going to hurt if you stay like that and he lays next to you.

“What is this show about?” You ask, watching as he logs into his Netflix account. 

“Uhhh,” He drags out as he’s finding the show. “During the Regency era in England, eight close-knit siblings of the powerful Bridgerton family attempt to find love.” He reads. “Season one is about one of the daughters, Daphne.” He further explains as the show starts.

Three episodes in, you somehow found yourself on your stomach, unable to look away from the screen. You’re completely engrossed in the show, the two of you missing the call for dinner as you’re on the final two episodes. 

“I am Daphne and you are Simon,” You whisper as they have sex during their honeymoon. He glances over at you, a smile spreading across his face.

“I’m Daphne,” He shakes his head, his voice an equal whisper. 

“Ah, yes,” Grinning, you look at him. “The red hair, my mistake.” Bowing his head into his arm, he snorts and leans into you. 

“So we’re married?” He asks. 

“Dating, perhaps,” You settle on. Play it cool, he tells himself and nods, skipping the rest of the sex scene. “Dating, totally?”

“Dating, officially.” You agree. 

Suck it, Dick. Haha, get it? 

—

Surely, Wally would be the one with dating experience, you tell yourself as you prepare for your first-ever date. He’d given vague details about the date, telling you to wear something comfortable but to also bring a sweater because he expects the date to last well into the night. 

What even is comfortable dress wear? Wally's comfortable wear is shorts and a graphic design shirt but your comfortable wear is a good button-down and slacks. 

Groaning, you settle on jeans and a white shirt. That’ll have to do. Yes. Grabbing a pair of jeans from the depths of your closet, you try to not second guess yourself again.

Tucking and untucking the shirt, you stare at yourself in the mirror. 

“Sculk,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the bed. “I do not appreciate this anxiety I am feeling, please take it away.” 

“No,” She laughs and you stare at her in the mirror. “This is fun, my baby's first date!” Rolling your eyes, you fix yourself again before smelling your breath. “You’ve brushed ten times. Give your human mouth a rest,” She groans and pulls you towards the door. Clinging to the wall, you feel the metal bending before she nearly tossed you out of the room and to where Wally was waiting at the elevator. 

“Nervous?” He grins as you stumble next to him. 

“Truly,” You laugh, trying to shake your nerves out. Looking him over, you see that he has a woven basket in his non-dominant hand. Ah, a picnic. The jeans were appropriate.

“Hi to you, too, Sculk.” He adds as the doors open. 

“She says hello and that she’ll go dormant soon. Something about privacy,” 

Outside, you feel the warm breeze that signals the start of summer and Wally nearly basks in it. Like a plant. 

“Get on my back,” He grins, lowering himself in front of you. 

“Whatever for?” You ask while climbing on. He stands up and holds onto each of your calves, his mind immediately catching that he’s never noticed your calves are built. Swallowing, he clears his throat and looks back towards you. 

“You’ll see! Hold on tight,” Bracing yourself, you feel the wind nearly punching you with how fast he’s moving. In fear of losing an eye, you close your eyes and hide your head behind his. It gets a bit chilly and you can tell he’s crossing the ocean because of the sound of water being hit. 

Soon enough, he stops and lets you down. When you open your eyes you find yourself on the shores of a beach with tall rocks and tall trees. 

“Google said Anse Source D’Argent is the best beach in the whole world,” He explains, guiding you toward a patch of sand large enough for the blanket he had stuffed into the basket. 

“It is lovely,” You agree, looking around. There’s no one around for miles. The sound of the water was damn near hypnotic and you bet you could climb those rocks in less than three seconds. 

“And I know that you’ve never been to a beach before… so why not bring you to the best beach ever?” He grins, grabbing your hands to pull you over to the blanket. It’s large enough that the two of you can comfortably lie down and have space for the food and drinks. 

“Thank you,” Settling on your knees, your eyes scan over the water. Watching the water roll in and get pulled back into the ocean. 

“Wanna swim?” He asks and you hurriedly nod, rushing up and leaving him in your dust. He calls for you, calling you a cheater, and rushes into the water, splashing you in his wake. Diving after him, he laughs at your puffed-out cheeks and barely open eyes. Pulling you deeper into the water, you watch as the fish swim away from the two of you. Surfacing for air, you see Wally do the same, his hair clinging to his face as you’re sure your hair does the same. 

“Why do you do that?” He asks, mimicking your puffed-out cheeks and closed eyes. 

“What else am I supposed to do?” You ask back and he shakes his head as if to say rookie before showing you. He inhales, his cheeks never puffing out, and then dives back down, looking at you with his eyes open. Copying him, you do as he did and feel the sting in your eyes almost immediately. 

After a few seconds, you get used to it and he nods, giving you a thumbs up. Giving one back, the two of you continue swimming. 

Sometime later, you’re floating on your back as Wally dives back down for a while. When he comes back up, he carefully places a couple of shells and pebbles on your shirt. 

“They reminded me of you,” He grins, the lack of air clear on his face. Lifting your head, you look at the rocks and shells. It’s hard to see them, but you smile all the same. “Let’s go eat, you can look at them on the sand!” He suggests and collects the items again. 

On the sand, you’re shaking yourself dry, suddenly realizing that swimming in jeans wasn’t the best idea. Waking Sculk up, you dry yourself off and she goes back to sleep. 

Wally is already dry, something about super speed and running laps. 

“I love this one,” You tell him, picking up the nearly intact knobbed whelk shell. With various shades of pink and beige on it, you hold up to Wally’s face and grin. “You match!” Rolling his eyes, he grabs a piece of foggy sea glass similar to the color of your eye. When he finds it, he grabs his phone and you watch as he opens his camera, placing the sea glass next to your eye. 

“Smile,” He urges and you do, hearing him take at least a dozen pictures, he shows you the ones he deems the best. Doing the same with him, you have him hold the shell to the side of his face and take three pictures. He does something with his phone before he opens up the basket to pull out the food. 

The rest of the date was spent with cloud gazing, building sand castles, and talking each other's ears off until you were interrupted by a call from Dick. He frowns but the both of you understand and pack up, quickly heading back to the others. 

—

Five months into dating, Wally mentions the idea of you meeting his family. Thanksgiving is coming up and the others agreed to go home and spend time with someone other than the team for a change. Your plans were to go back to your cabin or with Doctor Light for the weekend but…

“Would they like me?” You ask from your spot on his bed. He looks up at you, his face once firmly planted on your chest. “I mean, you’re the only person who enjoys my company thus far. I’d hate to make them uncomfortable,” Sitting up, Wally pulls you up with him and holds your face firmly in his hands. 

“I’ve told my family all about you and they’re dying to meet you, smokey!” He explains and the stupid nickname makes your eyes roll. “Besides, we’re pretty serious, right?” Nodding, he nods back. “So why not meet my family?” 

“If you’re sure… I don’t see the harm. But I’d need them to approve of it first,” 

And that’s how you ended up at the West house the day before Thanksgiving. Dressed in a brown sweater with thin white stripes, a pair of Wally’s baggy jeans, and your dress shoes; you stand next to Wally as he spam rings the bell. 

“I think they’ve heard it,” You slowly tell him, lowering his arm. 

“You think?” He grins, sliding his arm through your hand until you’re holding his hand. He’s dressed in a simple button-down and jeans, the best you’d get him to wear to the event.

“Wally!” A woman with darker red hair than Wally greets as she opens the door. “And you must be (Y/n),” Nodding, you fumble your hands before extending the hand that Wally wasn’t holding as he chuckles. 

“Hello, Mrs. West, thank you for having me.” She smiles and shakes your hand. 

“Please, call me Mary. Come on in, it’s chilly out.” Following Wally inside the home you see various pictures of him and his family hanging up. Baby pictures, first day of school, major events like weddings. 

“He pooped himself that day,” Barry tells you as you’re staring at a picture of Wally when he was in middle school, holding a science trophy. First place. 

“Barry!” Wally groans. “He’s lying,” He tells you and ushers you away as you’re waving at Barry. Barry laughs and heads towards the kitchen where you see Iris. 

“That’s Jay and Joan. He was the first Flash,” He whispers as the two of you enter the living room. 

“So,” Rudy says from behind you and you nearly jump out of your skin, spinning around to look at Wally’s father. “You’re the boy my son is dating?” He asks, his eyes scanning over you. Letting go of Wally’s hand, your nails mess with the thread of your sweater, pulling and picking at it. 

“Yes, sir,” You nod, swallowing your fear. With his eyebrows raised, he rubs his mustache. Lord, that’s a big mustache. 

Do not focus on his mustache! Sculk shouts. 

“You do drugs?”

“No, sir.”

“Drink?”

“No, sir.” You shake your head, feeling your chest tighten and suddenly your heart is in your throat. 

“Dad,” Wally almost scolds before his father can ask another question. “How about I show you my old room?” Nodding, you wave to the others and hurriedly follow Wally up to his room. 

“I cannot breathe,” You admit once the door closes. “I have never felt this nervous before, perhaps this was a bad idea.” Helping you to the bed, Wally opens the two windows of his old room. 

“It’s normal to be nervous,” He reassures you as he sits next to you. “Plus, you’re super powerful! They can’t hurt you,” As he’s speaking, he’s drawing chemical bonds on the back of your hand. Each of their names pops into your head, but it does nothing to take your attention away from your fear. 

“I do not wish to harm your family!” You bark, covering your face. “But what if they go astray? Wallace,” Looking at him, he frowns and rubs your back. 

“Ask Sculk to go to sleep if you’re worried. How about we stay for an hour if you still want to go and then we can. I promise,” Slowly, you nod. 

“I need to use the bathroom, but I’ll be right back, okay?” He stands up and you go to stop him, about to beg him to stay but nod. He smiles softly and slowly kisses you. “Sit and breathe, maybe look at my embarrassing pictures.” He points to a shelf with various pictures and a picture book mixed in with textbooks and comics. Nodding, he pecks your forehead and leaves. 

Laying flat on his bed, you hold your hands over your chest. Feeling yourself breathing and your heart stop beating so fast. Once it’s calm enough, you walk over to the window and sit out on the porch roof. Watching as cars drive past and as families greet each other around the block, you frown. 

Maybe if you hadn’t picked up the stone that held Sculk, those kids could’ve been you. You could’ve seen your family again. You could’ve grown up being loved by your family, and seeing your siblings grow up. Go to school, graduate. 

Sighing, you lay your head on the wall behind you, now staring at the sky. 

In truth, it probably was always going to end up this way. With you away from your family, shunned and cast out. But this was probably the best outcome because now you have Dr. Light and Wally. You have Sculk, too. 

“Hey, babe,” Wally climbs out of the window. He knows how you find the word odd, but he loves your reaction to it. “Ready to go back down?” He asks, sitting next to you. 

“Not yet,” You mutter, laying your head on his shoulder. He nods, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and the two of you stare at the clouds together until your legs go numb and you’re forced inside. 

“I promise, they’ll love you.” 

Downstairs, everyone is seated in the living room and watching some show. Unsure if you should greet them, you wave once again and sit next to Wally on the couch. While you’re nervous and unable to watch the courtroom show, you try your best. 

“Oh,” Iris says as she checks her phone. “I hope it’s okay but I invited my friend and her husband over; her parents just died and I didn’t want her to be alone.”

“That’s fine, hun,” Rudy nods and everyone tunes back into the show until Wally suggests playing Just Dance. 

“(Y/n), partners?” He grins as his father loads the game. You’ve played the game before, maybe three times but Wally is infinitely better than you. 

“Sure,” You agree and the two of you pick a song. Apparently, they play in teams, and whoever scores the most wins. He picks Kesha’s C’mon. 

“You always pick this,” You chide, standing next to him. 

“I gotta show off,” He shrugs. 

After three rounds, it’s decided that Jay and Joan got last place, Rudy and Mary got third, Barry and Iris got second, while you and Wally got first. He cheers, of course, holding up the Wii controllers as if it was a trophy. 

“I’d like to dedicate this win to my amazing boyfriend! His support means everything!” He says as if he’s at the Oscars, accepting an award. Grinning, you laugh alongside the others. “And as the winners, we’re deciding on Salvadoran food for dinner!” 

“Are you sure there are Salvadoran restaurants nearby? I’d hate for the food to get cold,” As you finish, Wally and Barry stare at you blinking before staring at each other. “What?” You ask and Wally chuckles, leaning down and kisses the top of your head. 

“Babe, you’re asking the Flash and Kid Flash if a place is nearby.” He explains and you feel stupid, shaking your head. 

“Forgive me for being concerned,” Rolling his eyes, he sits next to you.

“(Y/n) loves Salvadoran food,” He explains. “I don’t think they’ve ever had some, so you’d have to give recommendations.” He tells you and your eyes widen. No way, what if you give them food they hate? “Baby, they love all foods.” 

“You say every time it’s my turn to pick dinner,” 

“And I’m always right,” He grins. “Right, guys?” He looks at his family, silently urging them to agree. 

“I’m sure we’ll love whatever you pick,” Mary nods. Sighing, you agree. Explaining various foods and drinks, they all pick their food and Barry says he’ll pick some up whenever Iris’s friends text back what they’d like to eat. In the meantime, Wally drags you up to his room. 

“See!” He basically cheers as he closes the door. “They love you!” Sitting on his bed, you nod and watch as he dances around his room. Doing his victory dance. 

“For once I was wrong,” You admit and he nods, still dancing around. “Your family is truly nice.” Scooting back in his bed, he closes the windows and the curtains before joining you. On his way to the bed, he grabs his old picture book. 

“Prepare to see the most amazing baby ever!” He grins, his twin-size mattress hardly big enough to hold the two of you. The two of you must’ve stared at pictures for an hour before he puts the book back and the two of you just lay in the bed. 

“Yknow something I always wanted to do?” He grins over at you. Looking away from your phone, you hum and look at him. “Make out in my childhood room.” He winks. 

“Sure,” You grin and climb on top of him. He giggles and you raise an eyebrow, your hands trailing along his jawline. 

“I’m excited,” He huffs, his hands finding their place at your hips. “Sue me.” 

Kissing him, you move your right arm down to the small of his back, pulling him closer to you. He hums and wraps his arms around your neck, mindlessly playing with the hair at the base of your neck. Feeling his nails drag along your scalp, you relax against him. Your left hand gently holds his jaw, keeping his head tilted high enough for you. Your lips mesh against each other, pressing and gliding with each turn of your heads. Eventually, his tongue slips past his lips and you let yours do the same. 

He sighs out of the kiss, staring at you with barely open eyes and a spit-covered grin before leaning back in. Biting your lower lip, Wally picks back up where the two of you left off. Whatever chapstick he had used is fading at this point but he can taste it on your lips, quickly deciding he’ll buy more of it before he loses it. Cupping his neck, you press his lower body deeper into the bed while he makes a move for your belt. 

Shifting his left leg higher, you start breaking the kiss, leaving slowly kisses trailing down his neck when the door swings open. 

“I was right!” Barry shouts, laughing at your expressions. “Come on, dinners ready and Iris’s friends are here.” He closes the door, still laughing as you and Wally fix yourself. 

“That part wasn’t on my bucket list,” He jokes, wiping your mouth of spit as you fix your shirt. 

“Your family knows we kiss,” You groan. “Your dad knows I’ve kissed you! In his house!” He’s going to try and kill you, get Barry to create a tornado, and deprive you of oxygen. 

“My dad knows I tried to have sex in his house!” He groans back. “We can still leave with our dignity.” 

“No,” You huff, kicking the air. “That would be worse. Let’s just go downstairs and act as though Barry never caught us.” It takes him a second but he agrees and the two of you start your walk of shame down to where the rest of his family are. 

“There’s the lovebirds!” Barry cheers when the two of you finally emerge.  Wally rolls his eyes while you stare at the carpet. It’s too late, you can never look any of them in the eyes again. “Sorry, I interrupted your little make-out session,” 

“Babe,” Iris scolds, putting her hand on his knee. He holds his hands up and Iris clears her throat. Wally guides you to a smaller couch than the one you sat on earlier and you finally look somewhere other than the carpet. “Mary this is my brother, Wally, and his boyfriend—“

“(Y/n)?” Mary finished for her. Looking over at Mary, she seems familiar but you can’t tell from where. 

“I apologize, but do I know you?” You ask and she frowns. Everyone looks between the two of you but her husband seems to have already placed it. He grabs her hand, giving her his silent support. 

“It’s me, Mary,” She says and you’re still no closer to knowing who she was. Her frown grows deeper when she figures that nothing is clicking for you. 

“Your sister.” 

“Oh,” You breathe. Wiping your hands on your pants, you lick your lips. 

“Where’ve you been all these years?” She asks, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. When you look at her, you hate how you don’t feel anything. There’s no connection with her, she’s just another stranger to you. 

“I don’t believe right now is the most appropriate place for this conversation,” You tell her with a tight smile. 

“We tried to get ahold of you for the funeral. Mom and Dad would’ve loved to see you—“

“No.” You tell her. Now it’s Wally’s turn to offer you moral support. “They wouldn’t have. If they didn’t want me in their life then they wouldn’t have wanted me in their death. As I've said before, now is hardly the time or place to be having this conversation. I believe you’re making the hosts uncomfortable.” 

“Can we talk outside?” She begs. “Please, I haven’t seen you in a decade. (N/n).” The name stings. It stings more than any injury you’ve ever gotten. The name sounds like nails on a chalkboard. It reminds you of everything you’ve lost, it reminds you that you’ll never be that child again. But maybe, she’s different. Mary might not be like your parents, she could love you again. 

“Fine.” You coincide. “Wallace will join us, though.” She nods, anything to get to talk to you. Wally is up before you are, guiding the three of you out to the backyard as his family awkwardly eats their food. 

“Why did you leave?” She asks once everyone is settled in the deck chairs his father had set out earlier in the day. 

“That’s far from the truth,” Shaking your head, you stare at the moon. “I was kicked out. They’d given up their rights to me, tried to get me sent to a wilderness camp.” 

“Mom never would’ve done that!” Mary’s eyes narrow and you huff, looking back at her. 

“Mary, what use is lying now? If I ran away wouldn’t they have looked for me? Reported me missing— tried to get me home?” It settles on her, how your mother and father only cried for you and prayed during church for you. But they never asked for you back. Her eyes lower, almost ashamed of her actions. 

“Where were you?” She reaches for your hand but you move it away on instinct. 

“A cabin in the woods. I lived there until recently,” 

“Your father,” Mary’s husband started after silence had fallen over the group. “He always told stories about you being possessed. A she-demon who took over your body,” 

“I guess he meant you being gay…” Mary trails before she sighs. “(N/n), I’m so sorry I didn’t help you. That I didn’t fight for you. I’ve missed your entire life, all because I believed our parents without question. But God has brought us back together, God is letting us be a family again.”

“I don’t believe in such a cruel man,” You tell her and she falters. “Your god and his cruel ways are what led to me being abandoned. It’s what led to me living in a broken-down cabin until I was found almost ten years later. Your god isn’t someone deserving of my love and my devotion. He’s never helped me,” You spit. “I helped myself. I found solace, I found joy, I found love. Look, Mary,” Wiping your face, you grab Wally’s hand, giving it squeezes to comfort yourself. 

“I will not tell you that you’re wrong for choosing that god, I will not tell you that your religion is cruel. I’m sure you’ve heard it a thousand times over. What I am telling you is that your god played no role in my life. I am here because I am meeting my boyfriend's family. I met Wallace because the woman who found me is friends with Barry’s friends. I am still alive no thanks to god, no thanks to your mother and father. If you wish to have some sort of relationship with me, you’ll need to understand that.” It was awkward, saying that in front of Wally’s family and all but clearly Mary wasn’t going to let the situation go. 

“I understand,” She nods, her hand rising to press against her cross. “I’m sure our other siblings would love to see you again. I know your birthday is coming up—“

“It is?” Wally gasps, effectively changing the whole conversation. “You’ve never told me your birthday!” The realization hits him like a truck and he gasps, clutching his chest. “Babe!” Mary stifles her laughter, watching the two of you. 

“I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years, Wallace,” 

“We’re celebrating!” He shakes his head. “I’m already planning the best surprise birthday for you,” He grins, leaning closer to you. 

“Please, look up the definition of a surprise.”

“My dad told me the same thing,” 

—

December arrives faster than you’d like. You know Wally and your sister have been texting about your surprise party. You’ve seen their messages— and the subsequent group chat with all of the people who are going. It’s Wally, his family, your sister, your family, Kimiyo and her kids. No one from the team, though. Wally understood well enough that you’d hate to have them there. They know next to nothing about your biological family and you’d hate to have them learn in that way. 

Sculk isn’t the happiest with this. She’s against the idea of you rekindling things with your family but you’ve explained that nothing is set in stone. You’re testing the waters, unable to let yourself get hurt like that again. 

“Happy birthday!” Wally cheers as you enter the training room. Everyone else is already there, starting their warm-ups. 

Thank you, Wallace,” Nodding towards him, you start your warm-up. He watches you, a stupid grin on his face because he doesn’t think you know his plans. He’s already created a great cover story. Barry and Kimiyo are going to call the two of you away for a mission. It’ll do two things, create a reason for you two to leave and ensure that the two of you aren’t called back for an emergency. 

Double win! 

“Happy birthday,” The others rush out and you thank them all the same. 

Around twelve, Wally tells you to put on something nice. He says nothing fancy, but not jeans either. Essentially, your version of comfortable wear. Surprisingly, he’s dressed up. 

He’s wearing a new shirt and pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of brown plaid pants. Of course, he puts on his usual shoes. 

“Ehh!” He says, gesturing to his outfit. 

    “We could skip it and I could enjoy this outfit in my room,” You offer, slowly trailing your eyes over him. For a moment he genuinely considers it. His eyes flicker something almost desperate, yearning, but he shakes his head. 

“I have an amazing day, plus backups planned,” He tells you, smoothing out your collar. “We can do what you said when we come back, yeah?”

“If you can wait that long,” You chide. His eyebrows raise, seeing that as a challenge he is more than willing to accept. 

The two of you leave Mount Justice with help from Sculk. Appearing in the backseat of Barry’s car that’s parked outside of the venue Mary had rented out, he looks back at the two of you. You’ve spent more time with Barry and Iris since Thanksgiving, actually enjoying their company. Iris often invites you out for coffee on the weekends. 

“No getting freaky—“

“Shut up!” Wally groans, covering his ears before loudly repeating lalalalala. You just stare at him, unblinking. That’s the guy you’ve fallen for. 

“You ready?” Iris asks as she looks back towards you. “Because you can always leave.” Her hand reaches for her knee and Wally catches that for once, you don’t jerk away from the sudden touch. His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, even if you’re unaware of the shine in them. 

“I’m sure I’ll be prepared for most of the possible outcomes,” You reassure. 

Heading inside, you see faces with features that you see in yourself. You see your hair color, your eye shape, your skin tone. Your family. They’re all so foreign to you, you know their names and their relation to you but you don’t know them. They’re like an urban legend in your mind; except you’ve always figured the Moth Man was more real than you reuniting with Thomas again. 

“(Y/n),” He smiles at you, his height matching your own. Thomas was your twin growing up, he was born a week after you to your mother's brother. You’d been inseparable since birth. Damn near identical, too. 

“Thomas,” You greet him. “Wallace, this is my cousin. Thomas, this is my boyfriend, Wallace.” 

“Call me Wally,” He introduces himself with a handshake. “He’s a stickler for full names.” He smiles back at you and you smile back. Thomas laughs before patting your shoulder. 

“Glad to see that hasn’t changed! Come on, Pop is dying to see you again.”

And thus begins an hour of reuniting with family. Having Wally hear whatever stories they’ve retained over the years, small pieces of your childhood that Wally never thought he’d get to hear. 

“You had a stutter?” He whispers to you as the two of you look to find Mary. 

“Used to,” Humming, you spot Mary talking to her husband near the drinks table. “It stopped when I merged with Sculk.” Who, just for the record, is hating every second of this. She hates when they greet you, when they talk fondly of you. when they hug you. She hates the way they act as if you’ve been off to a different country to study and not cast out from their family entirely. 

She hates how the elephant is being ignored.  

You find it amusing how not only are you meeting your family, but so is Wally. Although, he’s much less nervous than you were. He’s chatting away, doing most of the speaking for you (bless him, honestly), and mingling enough for the two of you. 

“(Y/n)!” A woman smiles as she pulls you and Wally over. Removing your arm from her grip, she looks down at it but doesn’t vocalize her thoughts. “I was just telling Imani how you’ve grown into a strong young man.” She grins, beckoning her daughter over. Imani, who you remember through Thomas, is his neighbor. But they’re considered family by the older generations. 

“I remember him crying over a trapped mouse,” Imani grins, nudging her shoulder with yours. Rolling your eyes, you see Wally grin and lean his head on your shoulder. 

“You cried over a mouse?” Wally asks and you nod. 

“I had just read the Crime of Being Small poem. It was cruel to let the creature starve in the trap when I could simply release it. But my father never permitted me,” You explain. “It never stopped me though,” 

“What a hero,” Imani remarks, a lighthearted smile on her face as she watches her mother leave. It drops once she’s out of earshot. “I can’t believe you came back,” She frowns and you frown back. Was she not happy to see you? You understood you were never that close but, damn. “No offense, but you’re better off.” She quickly adds and guides you over to seats. 

“Before you went on that mountain trip, our parents were thinking of setting us up,” She explains, scratching her neck. “They started up that betrothal shit again; I’m actually engaged.” 

“We could help you get out,” Wally immediately offers and you nod. She sighs, wringing her hands together. 

“I don’t have my diploma… I don’t have anything,” She admits and Wally glances at you, urging you to take the lead. 

“Neither did I,” She looks at you as if she remembered that you’d been alone, without any documentation for years. “But I can set you up with someone; get a place to live while you get your GED and raise enough money to support yourself.”

“Really?” She breathes and you nod, offering a smile. 

“Give me your number or…” Thinking about it. “I could ask them to collect your belongings now and we can leave once the party is over.”

“That quick?”

“That quick.” 

Connections, connections, connections. That’s the name of the game, at least that’s what Kimiyo tells you. Getting into contact with Bruce was easy, he’d prepared a safe house in Central City until Imani picked a different one. Clark and Doctor Fate collected Imani’s things, setting them up in the safe house. 

All the while, you and Wally are hanging amongst everyone at the party, eating snacks and drinking fruit punch. Imani is nervous, having to excuse herself to the bathroom enough that her mother starts to worry. So, the two of you bring her into your group and talk until Mary says it’s time to sing Happy Birthday. 

You’re reluctant. But you can’t say no, it is your party. 

It’s a tower of a cake, covered in your favorite color with small white details. There are little emblems and when you look at them, you see Lady Whistledown. The gossiper in Bridgerton. 

Everyone sings Happy Birthday, recording videos with obnoxious flashlights and trying to get you to smile. 

The song ends and you’re handed the knife, everyone waiting for you to make the first cut. Hand the first slice to someone incredibly important to you. You know Mary wishes it was for her, she stands next to your other siblings, watching as you cut the slice and carefully plate it. Her hands almost reach for the plate instinctively, but you hand it to Wally. 

He doesn’t know the meaning of the plate. He doesn’t understand that you’re basically declaring your love for him. He doesn’t get why everyone is stunned when he’s handed the slice. But you smile at him and wipe frosting from the knife onto his nose. The same thing he’d done to you for your birthday. 

Barry takes over cutting the other slices, handing you the second slice so the two of you could sit in peace for a little bit. 

“Did you enjoy it?” Wally asks as the two of you make your way to the outside area. 

“More than I thought I would,” The cake is lovely. It tastes good but you’re sure Wally has incredible tastes for these sorts of things. “Thank you, Wallace.” 

It’s too early for an ‘I love you’, but both of you can feel the words lingering in the air. Your feelings are mutual, trying to outshine the other but you match his love in your own ways. 

To be loved is to be seen. To be loved is to be changed. To be loved is to be known. 

You love Wally. You love how he catches your moods, how he knows when you need a break, when you need a push. You love how you’ve slowly noticed his little quirks becoming your own. His eye rolls, his laugh, his gaze. You love how he knows your favorite color, your favorite flavor, and your favorite food. How he knows certain things would never be something you’d enjoy. 

Laying your head on his shoulder, you stare at his free hand. He’s since finished his cake, the empty plate left on the ledge next to him. 

Saying I love you feels right. Saying I love you would be like saying the sky is blue. Of course, it is, of course you do. But you’ve heard it’s too soon in the relationship. It’s too soon to feel that strongly about someone. But in truth, you think this is only the beginning. 

—

“How're you holding up?” Wally asks as he rushes over to you, watching your back as you fight against two of the zombie soldiers. He attacks the third zombie that had slipped behind you. 

“Good,” You huff, using Sculk’s powers to rip one of the zombie’s heads from its body. “I broke one of their jaws and used it as a shovel.” He makes a noise akin to that’s good and you hum. 

“Can you two focus?” Conner grunts, having five zombies on top of him. Flinging them off of him, you roll your eyes and pull the zombies to the center of the room. There’s about a dozen or so left and Dick had wanted to get some in to see what spell or curse they were under. It was a little difficult to knock out a zombie, they didn’t have a stream of consciousness or any sort of pain receptors. 

It was a matter of switching off their mobility, essentially paralyzing them. 

“Thanks, Ward,” Dick sighs, wiping his face of zombie flesh. Nodding, you check over Wally. He’s fine, talking to Artemis. His hair is messy and his black suit is working wonders for his body. Damn, runner's ass was a real thing. 

Snapping out of it, you clear your throat and head over to M’Gann and Zatanna, helping with the magic side of everything. 

“I want Ward and Miss Martian with me to dissect them,” Dick tells everyone as Zatanna binds them together. “Zatanna, could you make sure that nothing follows us back?” She nods and scans the area as you help M’Gann load up the zombies. It makes the jet smell horrid, surprise, dead things without ventilation smell horrible!

On the way home, you can’t help but stare at Wally. His black suit really is nice, but when he switches back to the yellow and red, you shift in your seat. 

“Zombies moving!” Conner shouts and you whip your head around, seeing the twelve zombies surrounded by a magical sort of aura. 

The Witches doing. Sculk sneers as she helps you put them back down. This time, she encases them in a magical prison. Cool, totally cool. 

“It’s Enchantress,” You tell them. “Someone needs to alert Batman that June has lost control of her.” Dick nods and calls his father. With Enchantress, you know you’re in for a long night of undoing spells and magical traps. So long that you’ll overuse Sculk’s magic and probably do something stupid. 

Dammit. 

—

Looking up from his phone, Wally gets up at the rapid knocks on his door. It opens and he smiles when he sees you, about to greet you before you start speaking. 

“I want you,” You tell Wally as you stand in front of his door, covered in sweat. He stares at you, confused. He hasn’t even known that you returned from the dissection room. 

“You have me…?” He trails, letting you in, and checks the hallway to see if anyone else is awake and in the hallway. It’s the middle of the night, he’d thought about going to sleep so it’s probably around two in the morning. 

“No, I want you sexually.” You groan as he closes his door, although you’ve come close more than a dozen times, nothing has gone past a couple of hickeys. “Ever since this—“ You gesture between the two of you. “I’ve been feeling weird shit. Horny shit. And fuck your suit? It’s really doing things to me, man!” You admit and he has to pause. Never has he heard you say any of those words before. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, putting his hand on your forehead. When he does, you start giggling and hold his hand in yours. 

“Yes— Sculk thinks I should mention I get weird when I overuse her powers— but I’ve been jacking it like a pre-teen for months to the idea of you. So, can we fuck? That sounds so rude.” You frown and drop his hand. “I’m willing to have sex if you are. Like so willing,” You rephrase your sentence. 

“Yes, please,” He laughs, already discarding his shirt as you grin and start to do the same. “Wait— are you sure you want this? I feel like this should wait until you’re clear-headed,” He says as he places a hand on your chest, keeping you away from him. 

“Ugh, you’re too nice. And sure, Sculk is about to knock me out, anyway,” In preparation you go to sit on his bed but your body gives out and you collapse. Wally even with his amazing sight can’t tell when your body changes from you to Sculk. Black and blue cover takes your body like moss on a tree and Sculk sits up. 

“This’ll be short,” She says, her voice like that of an audiobook for children. “Yes, he’s in a clear state of mind. Too clear, it’s basically anti-lying drugs when he overuses my powers. So, good luck. I will not be here for when you two…” She makes a face. “You know. I’ll be locked away, trust. That’s my son, I already hear his thoughts about you.” She gags at the mention and he doesn’t know if he should feel insulted. 

“Son?” He echos and she laughs. It makes him feel warm, like a child again. 

“I’ve raised the kid, that’s my son. He really likes you, by the way,” She smiles. “Thank you, for that. But I’ll kill you if need be.” And just like that, your body is back on his bed and he’s left trying to grasp with the knowledge he’s been bestowed.

—

With much encouragement from Wally, you agreed to hang out with the others for dinner. He thinks it’s the perfect time to have dinner with the team. With summer approaching again, he’s hoping for a weekend vacation with the team. You wanted to stay inside his room, perhaps continue your activities from the morning. But this was fine, too, you supposed. 

Everyone is in the kitchen, discussing what to get. 

“I’m tired of pizza,” Artemis says, immediately cutting Wally off when his lips press to make the P sound. “We should branch out for once! How about Salvadoran food?” Nodding in agreement, you can already picture what you’re going to eat. 

“My boyfriend loves Salvadoran food!” Wally beams, pulling you into a sideways hug. The others pause their conversation and look at the two of you. 

“Boyfriend?” Dick echos, looking between the two of you. “You’re his boyfriend?” He asks you. 

“I do enjoy Salvadoran food,” You nod. His eye nearly twitched, technically yes, that answered the question but it totally didn’t at the same time. 

“How long have you been dating?” M’Gann smiles, her arm wrapping around Conner’s shoulder. 

“One year and one month,” Wally happily tells them. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. (Y/n)’s been super touchy, it’s cute.” He grins before kissing your cheek. “And my lock screen is him.” As proof, he shows them the picture of you smiling with the sea glass next to your eye. Yours is a picture of you and Wally on a date to the local fair where he ate too many deep-fried Oreos. 

“They don’t notice me,” You shrug, just wanting to eat. “It isn’t surprising that they haven’t taken notice.” Frowning, Wally rubs your arm and looks at the others with an accusing glare. 

“That’s not true,” Klaudr shakes his head. “You’re a valuable teammate, we notice you.” The others nod but do not offer anything of value. 

“I don’t mind,” Shaking your head, you lean away from Wally. “I understand I am not the most approachable or the most… friendly person on this team. There’s no ill intent nor malice.” 

Before anyone can speak again, your phone buzzes and you see it’s a call from Doctor Light. 

“I am needed elsewhere,” Excusing yourself, you kiss the corner of Wally’s mouth. “Enjoy your dinner.” He nods and sees you off, but doesn’t return to the others for dinner. Instead, he makes a bowl of cereal and heads towards his room. Only, the elevator door won’t open. 

He tries every door and nothing works, he’s stuck in the common area until you or Zatanna returns to fix it. Great. He’ll just eat his food in the living room. 

The others don’t eat much before heading to the living room. 

“Wally,” Dick starts but Wally doesn’t listen. With his back to everyone, Wally lays down on one of the shorter couches, making sure no one could sit next to him or talk to him. For extra measure, he puts on your pair of headphones that he stashed in the living room and immediately, the sound around him drops to nothing but his own breathing. 

Dramatic, probably. But he would’ve thought that the team, his friends— supposedly your friends, were still excusing you. He’d straight up told Dick that he basically ignored you, surely he would’ve thought ‘Hmm, my teammate is being excluded, we should include him especially since he was alone since he was five until four years ago’ but no. He thinks it especially hurts because Dick is his best friend— his best friend can’t be bothered to take the time to be friends with his boyfriend. 

That shit really stings. 

He must’ve watched videos for three hours before he saw the mist of your powers roll over him. Pushing one of the headphones away from his ear, he looks back at you and smiles. You’re dropping your hero outfit on the ground, revealing your daily clothes and your tired expression. He catches the signs that you’ve overworked yourself and frowns. That mission must’ve been tough, but you’re not injured. 

“Aw, babe,” He draws out as he scoots back, offering space between him and the back of the couch. “Wanna cuddle?” The offer is met with a simple nod and he lets you crawl over him. He smiles as you lay in front of him, throwing one leg over his legs to pull him closer. 

“Thanks, ‘missed you,” You mumble, digging your head into his shirt. With barely open eyes, you stare at him. He can basically see the heart eyes you’re making and he smiles, tracing chemical bonds on your cheek. 

“I missed you, too,” He whispers, pulling the headphones off with his free hand. 

“Nah,” You laugh and his eyebrows raise. “I missed you so much more!” You tell him, running your fingers up and down his arm. 

“How much?” He asks, just to milk the situation. 

“Oh,” You sigh, eyes wide. “Like so much! Ugh, Kimiyo wouldn’t let me leave to come and see you!” He fake gasps and you nod, acting as if that was going to get her in trouble. 

“She didn’t?” Wally shakes his head. 

“She did, baby!” You whine, cupping his face. “I was so lonely and I kept thinking about you and me and you kissing, us having se— Sculk is telling me to shut up.” You laugh into his chin and he knows the party is over. “She says I’m gonna regret this when I wake up— oh, she’s making me fall asleep. Night,” Immediately, your head falls onto the pillow and your hands drop into your face. He fixes you, of course, laying on his back with you on top of him. 

When he flips onto his back he catches the others staring and stares back. 

“We’re sorry,” Dick speaks first, looking amongst the others. “We should’ve made more of an effort with (Y/n).” He nods, carefully fixing your hair. 

“Our normality and judgment blocked out any potential interactions,” Kaldur adds. “We understand that looking from the outside doesn’t provide the full story, especially regarding Ward.” 

“Who knew he was so cuddly,” Artemis adds, making Wally chuckle.

“I did,” He speaks softly despite knowing Canary’s screams won’t wake you up in that state. 

[prismuffin]

Omg! Okay so I just thought of the cuties thing in opinion! And wanted to do an ask of it!!

So, Male Reader is a shape-shifting alien kinda like Marsion's (Ex:Mee-gan ), but they can only be in a form that is not their true form for a limited time. Like 16hrs or something, after that, they shift back to their real form, unless they are in like fight or flight mode. After the time is up their behavior is that of an autistic that is burnout or overstimulated.

The MaleReader's true form basically looks very similar to an Earth's panther (i.e big cat) expect it has 4 sets of eyes and has a pure white coat with red patterns.

So! How would Dick, Jason, Tim, Wally and Conner (sperately) react to Alien MaleReader doing the cat behavior of 'if I fits, I sits' after seeking them out to take a nap and recharge?

Ex: Jason wanting some peace reading while laying on the couch, and reader just climbs his way up the back of the couch, to carefully place himself in between Jason's side and the couch cushions.

I'm working on some full fics but as to not let my blog seem dead I'll get this ask out the way! Anyways I think that-

Dick was in the kitchen making himself some lunch. For once, he decided to sit down at the table to eat instead of going to his room. He was sort of surprised to see you in your true form creeping your way over to him. He, at first, thought you wanted some of his food which he was not gonna give to you but instead you simply shrunk down underneath his chair. Squeezing yourself through the legs of the seat and resting your head on his foot. He was confused but just let it happen, sighing as he realized he was stuck with the cat curse and now he cant move because you're laying on him.

Jason would be sitting on the couch, finally glad to find a rare moment of quiet. He was simply relaxing until you came in, you were in your true form so he didn't think you'd be too much of a distraction. But he was wrong when you walked up to him and practically draped yourself across his lap, resting your head on a nearby pillow. You exhaled deeply and just closed your eyes, joining him in his relaxation session. He looked around at the rest of empty spaces on the couch before looking back at you, shaking his head with a slight smirk he just let you lay on him since you were warm.

Tim would probably be working, mumbling to himself about god knows what when you'd walked into his lab. He turned when he'd heard his door open and greeted you as he saw you enter, asking if you needed anything. You didn't answer and simply walked up to him, rubbing yourself against his legs with your tail held high before diving between his legs. Because of your size he had to steady himself as to not fall over. He let out a surprised gasp before trying to push you out but you wouldn't budge. When he did successfully get you out from underneath him you just followed him and did it again and again. If this was your way of getting him to stop overworking himself so much it is kind of working.

Wally had recently gotten a new package and boy was he happy, besides the fact that he had to assemble it himself. So he sat on the floor of his room trying to put together a gaming chair, screwing together two parts that look like they definitely shouldn't fit that way but that's besides the point. You'd entered his room and he'd given you a quick greeting before going back to building his chair. He'd heard some shuffling from where you were and turned to ask what you were doing only to see you fitting yourself within the large box that his chair had come in. You'd successfully smushed yourself down enough to fit perfectly in the box and he couldn't help but laugh at the sight. He took a picture, ignoring the soft glare you were giving him.

Conner would be resting and taking some time for himself not really doing much sadly. It was a rather boring day so he just sat himself on the couch, submitting to the mindless entertainment that the tv offers. Sooner or later you walked into the common room, spotting the kryptonian you moved over to him before shoving yourself under his legs. He was confused at first and asked what you were doing but didn't get much of a response besides a semi-sassy look as you just laid down and closed your eyes. He didn't move as your presence simply added to the comforting feeling of the couch especially since you were practically a warm footrest for him.

———

Directory

[gatorbites-imagines]

ftm wally west 🙏🏽 ion even hav a plot or thought in mind he jus deserves to get eaten out like a king mhm

Infirmary munchies

Drabble

FTM Wally West x Male reader

I think ive set up a healthy way to do my project for religion and still have some free time, so yayyyy.

Mixed terminology used for Wally’s bits, cuz idk. Not sure if I wrote this good, so lemme know what yall think.

Wally groaned softly as his eyes fluttered, head pressed back against the stiff pillows that the infirmary always gave out to the league members residing there. His red hair was tussled, and his body littered in bruises and bandages, a result of his last mission that had ended him in the infirmary in the first place.

He felt lightheaded as your tongue ran up from the bottom of his cunt to the top, where your lips wrapped around his t-cock before you gave it a suck, withdrawing enough to flick the hard engorged bundle of nerves before you dove down again, burying your tongue into his wet hole like a man starved.

His body ached from his bruises, but the pleasure of your mouth moving against him numbed it, causing hot flashes to run up his spine and coil in his abdomen. Wally had to clap a bandaged hand over his mouth as you gave a particularly cruel suck, a wet slurp leaving you as you licked up the wetness that spilled out of his slit, your eyes locked onto Wallys scrunched up face as the lower half of your face was soaked in his juices.

“Y-you’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week” he breathlessly giggled as he gripped your hair harder, an almost wounded noise leaving him as you cruelly flick his cock with your tongue, just barely scraping your teeth across it enough for him to feel and to have his hips jolting, unsure if he wants to press closer to you or pull away.

Instead of answering you lick into him with more gusto, fingers pressing in beside your tongue and pushing into his wet hole, a lewd slick noise filling the infirmary as you start to move your wrist, curling your fingers and pressing them about inside him. Wally keens as his powerful thighs flex on either side of your head, and if you hadn’t been enchanted yourself, he could probably have accidentally broken your neck with the power behind them, his second hand shooting down to grip onto the back of your neck, almost lugging you closer and pushing your face deeper between his quivering thighs.

A wet spot was gathering under him as you feasted yourself on his cunt, fingers feeling about where your tongue couldn’t reach, as Wallys stomach clenched, his abs tightening from the influx of senses you had crashing through him.

You could tell he was getting close by the way his breath caught and his gasps became shorter, his hips growing even more unsteady as they twitched and jolted, his dick twitching against your tongue as his hole clenched around your fingers. You moaned into him, shaking your head from side to side to slather your tongue all over him, your fingers pressing into that familiar spot inside him that had Wallys vision turning white and a warbled cry leaving his throat.

His entire body tightened and tensed as he came, wetness coating your fingers and tongue as you rubbed him through it, taking in the delicious sight that was your boyfriend climaxing. His freckled chest heaved as he gasped for breath, the grip on your hair and neck still tight and holding you against him as he ground against your lips and face, cunt rubbing his wetness further against your face as if marking his territory to some extent.

Finally, his body seemed to give out, his previously tense muscles going slack as he releases his grip on your head, slumping down onto the medical cot, bleary eyes looking down at you as your lick your lips like a satisfied tiger. He whined jokingly as you crawl up the bed to hover over him like a predator, his hands coming up to push you away as you try to kiss him as he snickers, your face still slick with his juices and tongue still tasting like him.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you get out of the cot as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, moving around to clean yourself up as you find what you need to clean Wally up and replace the covers on the cot so he wouldn’t have to lay in his own mess. It was only after you had washed out your mouth that Wally let you kiss him, your lips meeting in a soft and loving kiss. Some days he lets you kiss him after eating him out, but you guessed it was just one of those days. Now it was just trying to find out how to get him back into one of those medical paper dresses again before someone else barged in.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Dating Wally West

• You first met Wally when you were introduced to the team

• As soon as Wally saw you, he was starstruck

• Wally being Wally he sped over to you and immediately started to flirt with you

• You were flustered at first, but the more he flirted, the more you started to flirt back

• After months of flirting, Wally finally asked you to be his boyfriend, to which you said yes

• Saying yes ended up being one of the best decisions you’ve made in your life

• From then on, you didn’t get good morning/night texts, but good morning/night PARAGRAPHS

• In those paragraphs, it would talk about how much you meant to him and how much he loved you

• And contrary to popular belief, Wally would immediately stop flirting with people, and you didn’t need to ask him to

• Because of that, it was clear to you that you were the only one that he had eyes for, which made you love him even more than you already have

• For your first date, you and Wally decided on going to the movies

• Wally ended up paying for both of your tickets and snacks, even though you insisted on paying

• It started to become a habit of his

• Every time the two of you are about to go on a date, he ends up hiding your wallet from you so you wouldn’t pay for a thing, even though you wanted to pay

• He constantly brags about you to everyone

• He brags about how proud he is to be with you and how much you love each other

• Even though Wally has super speed, he still drives you to wherever you want to go, because to him, it means more than just super speeding

• And each time Wally drives you places, he ALWAYS opens/closes the door for you

• Not once have you ever touched the door handle because of him

• And if he ends up forgetting, he tells you to stand there and wait for him to remember to open it

• You could always be yourself around Wally because he would never judge you

• Every anniversary you’ve had with him, he always got you a teddy bear, your favorite flowers and a cute little scrap books of all of your memories together that he made himself

• When you introduced your family to Wally during a family dinner, and they immediately loved him and knew he was the one for you

• Wally would insist on helping out with the dishes and would constantly talk to your family as if they were his own

• You knew Wally was the one

[ynbabe]

if you do requests.

Can you please do one with young justice x shy reader who can open portal. Like Claire from trolls hunter.

You can ignore this.

Hiii of course! thank you for the request! and omg i remember that show it was so good!!

Word count: 190

Genre: one-shot, request

Warnings: none

Pg rating: All

No gender specified

There was something different about the magic that you did and the magic Zatana and even Constantine did. The team couldn't place it but there was something about your magic, something dark and disturbing.

That's why M'gann never stayed in the same room as the young magician, she knew she wasn't supposed to read her team's mind but something about them made her skin crawl so she had to and never had she heard so much noise. Just utter cacophony, like the inside of a hurricane. It sounded like there were two voices screaming at each other.

But other than M'gann's aversion no one else had any problems with the kid, they did their work, wrote the reports, went back home and came back to repeat the same the next day.

The kids didn't mind him either, in Canary's sessions all they had to say about them was that their power was super cool (Kid Flash), they were hardworking(Aqualad) and they were really quiet(Robin).

All in all, they all got along together even though Y/n was shy and kept to themselves, they always had each other's back on the field.

[eternityofend]

WALLY WEST

{KID FLASH, CENTRAL CITY WALLY WEST AU.}

It wasn't possible to keep up with a speedster's speed, that was the reason why they were called speedsters anyway, simply because they were the fastest man alive.

It shouldn't have been possible at all, until you came along, a normal civilian who Wally had saved, sure, he didn't go full speed but even handling half speed of a speedster was a feat as impressive as keeping up with a Peregrine Falcon's speed.

Link: Wally West.

Please be aware he may be OOC in certain messages, however I tried my best to make him in character for the best experience possible.

If any problems persist, that's the bot/janitor ai's bot. The gender isn't specified too.

[tonycries]

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? - G.S.

Synopsis. There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, Satoru’s blindfold gets used, overstimulation (male + female), lots of cum, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, making Gojo Satoru cum in his pants, breaking the bed, mating press, pet names (my girl), swearing.

Word count. 3.0k

A/N. Can you tell it’s ovulation week. PART 2 HERE. Art by @_3aem on x.

Ah~ It’s the 21st century, they should really make these curses self-exorcizing. 

It’s been a long day of dealing with countless curses and five droning clan meetings (all of which he missed, oops). Now, Satoru loiters around your shared penthouse apartment - waiting for you to come back home from work.

Hmm, maybe he’ll quickly drop by and see what the first years are up to? He probably didn’t have a class right now. 

But first, Satoru grins, opening the refrigerator to grab at the secret stash of sweets all the way in the back - something sweet.

---

It was odd to step into a tense silence suffocating your home - usually used to being met with whines of “how dare you take so long!” and “you won’t believe what that emo kid did today.” as soon as you walked in through the door.

Was Satoru running late on a mission today?  

It wasn’t surprising, the man had to be everywhere - it’s not like he always has the time to teleport and welcome you home. Yet, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off as you made your way into the kitchen.

Cursing whoever invented the work week, the cold air of the refrigerator hits you as you open it to grab a drink, wondering when your fiancé will be home.

Wait.

Tired brain distinctly noting the lack of that familiar flash of hot pink, you double-take as you glare at the back of the refrigerator - as if willing it to materialize in front of you. Where was that?

“That” being the gag gift your friends had given you last Christmas to playful wolf whistles. Some large slab of “aphrodisiac chocolate” - probably normal chocolate - that you’d skeptically thrown in with your secret candy stash for a rainy day. 

Satoru had ransacked your goods again, you sigh. But if he was home…then where was he?

“Toru? Are you home?” you call out in confusion, only to be met with a deafening silence. 

Concern etched on your face, you set the drink down to look for Satoru, footsteps thumping against the hardwood floors at each tense step. 

Approaching the bedroom, a low, unmistakable moan filters through the heavy door. Satoru.

Heartbeat racing and worry coursing through you, you cautiously push the door open - only to be met with a sight that makes your heart stop.

There, sprawled across your bed in just his boxers, a delicate flush spread enticingly along his sculpted body, was your Satoru. 

Something about this scene felt more than a simple evening nap. The air was heady and thick with something. Maybe it was that familiar hot pink wrapper lying empty at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was the way Satoru’s usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded, curtained by his tousled hair. 

Or maybe it was his hand squeezing the large outline of his achingly hard cock through his boxers. Circling the dark spot around his leaking tip. Massaging his heavy balls. Teasing. 

“You’re home‘ he rasps out, voice strangled and snapping you out of your trance. 

“Wha- yes. Toru, what happened?” you sputter out, eyes locked on the way his cock twitched animalistically at the sound of your voice.

In the blink of an eye, Satoru’s gotten up from the bed, muscled arms caging you against the wall. His rock-hard erection presses into your front, precum smearing through his boxers against your work clothes.

“You’re home.” he repeats, sounding as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each breath that fans your hair.

You could feel the pulsing of your cunt as your eyes flit from the sheen of sweat decorating his body to the blindfold haphazardly hanging off his neck. Satoru finally raises his eyes to look at you.

Oh, he’s already lost his sanity.

Pupils blown, those blue eyes you love now a lustful black - a predatory glint in them that made a carnal part of your cunt twitch. His mouth spreads into a wolfish grin, teeth bared as if ready to eat you up. 

A shiver runs down your spine.

“Toru…you okay?”

“You’re home.” he breathes out, as if a prayer. 

“Satoru.”

The simple call of his name sealed your fate.

The buttons hit the ground before you realize what he’s doing. Ripping your shirt off, pulling off your bra, fisting your clothes in his hands as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Too impatient - too starved - to remove your skirt, he pulls it to shreds off your hips.

“Woah- slow down there.” you squeal as he drops to Satoru knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties, tugging with his teeth. You know he’ll buy you ten more to replace what he’s torn, but jeez where was the decorum?

“Can’t” he slurs, peeking up at you with dazed eyes. Was your Satoru even here with you?

“What?” 

“Can’t stop.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your twitching cunt. 

And before you know it, sharp teeth bite around your panties, ripping them to shreds. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, miles away, grinning devilishly around the soaked fabric in his mouth. 

Shit, what have you gotten yourself into.

Despite your thobbing pussy, you soothe “Now, Toru. Why don’t we just-”

“Shut up.” he mutters. And he does - words catching in your throat as Satoru dives nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst..

Nose rubbing your pulsing clit in rough circles, he breathes you in so sinfully, letting out a throaty groan as he does. He bullies his tongue past your dripping folds, stretching you, dipping in and out of your quivering entrance. Over and over. In and out.

You were losing your mind with each rough push of Satoru’s warm tongue. Dizzying pace forcing lewd whimpers out of your mouth that mix with the squelches of his mouth on your pussy. 

You buck your hips desperately into his face, and amidst his merciless abuse on your cunt, you barely notice the way he presses his body against yours. 

Shit, so this is why he’s so fucking feral - Satoru’s cock was painfully hard, swollen and throbbing against your leg. Fuck- you weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

He grind his hips into you, precum soaking your bare legs. With a low whimper at the back of his throat, Satoru’s tongue fucks you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.

Maybe it’s the harsh abuse of his mouth on your swollen lips, nose catching on your clit just right. Or maybe it’s the feeling of your slick dripping down the corners of his mouth, onto your thighs and mixing with the precum of his aching erection. 

Before you can even register it, you’re cumming all over Satoru’s mouth, grip tight on his white locks and hips riding his pretty face.

Greedily lapping at your quivering cunt, he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet juices pooling around his tongue. 

In the back of your mind, you recognize the feeling of Satoru’s warm cum smearing against your leg. Did- Did Gojo Satoru just come in his underwear while eating you out?

Sinfully, he licks at the mixture of your juices dripping down your legs, eyes closed as if tasting a delicacy. He was going to be the death of you.

As soon as your high bates, Satoru stands to his full height. Towering above you with eyes that looked like he wanted to positively eat you alive.

“T-Toru…are you okay?” 

But your fiancé stays silent, throbbing erection still straining painfully against his wet boxers as he shoves you against the cold wall. Rough hands on your hips, presenting your dripping cunt to him and arching you to his will.

A large hand smacks the wall beside your head, plaster crumbling under his strength. Shit, if he keeps going at this pace then nothing in the house will survive Satoru - including you. 

You feel the cum-soaked fabric of his boxers grinding against your ass, his hands pulling and groping every bit of skin he can reach.

“Toru, take it off.” you whine out, words dripping in lust.

You don’t need to tell Satoru twice. With grace that he wouldn’t give your clothes, his boxers are on the ground, painfully hard cock hitting his abs. 

You can feel the slick dripping down your legs as you look behind your shoulder to see one hand wrapped tightly around his large cock. Pulling in slow, languid motions up to the furiously flushed tip. His heavy balls twitch as he thumbs the prominent vein along the side.

“I want-”

You can’t even finish your sentence before Satoru’s bullying his massive cock into your snug cunt. Plush walls desperately trying to adjust to his size as he sheaths himself in your hot core. 

You moan at the delicious stretch of your pussy. It’s not like you haven’t done this before - yet, where Satoru was usually suave in sex, right now it was replaced by pure, feral need. With his tip kissing your cervix as he pushed animalistically into your cunt - you didn’t know if you’d make it out alive. 

“Hah- Toru it’s too big. Ah! I can’t-.”

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed. 

Satoru presses into you inch by fucking inch, groaning at the tight ring of muscles trying to both push him out and suck him in desperately. It was so animalistic.

It seems Satoru’s body moves before his mind, hips fucking into your dripping pussy recklessly. Harsh thrusts, not even pulling all the way out to ram into you as he usually does - as if he can’t bear to part with your wet core. His balls sting your cunt as they smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting him to you.

“Ah- So good f’me, my girl. Always- so good.” he gasps out at the heavenly feeling of your dripping cunt sucking him back in at each thrust. “Hngh! Mmm more. I need more. Need it so bad.”

Hands arching your back into him now grope the expanse of your skin, before wrapping around your body to lift you off the floor. 

“Ah! Toru, what- hngh-” you choke on your words at the new angle. 

Satoru’s body bows into you, cock still slamming inside you at a feral pace midair. Not even a hair’s breadth between your bodies. 

With one hand he forces you to look up at him, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. Pretty mouth sucking your tongue as he did with your cunt.

If you were in a better state of mind, you’d notice the slight glow tinging his lustful eyes. The electricity thrumming through his fingers. Yet you already knew - Satoru was absolutely losing it.

Your feet dangle off the ground as he holds you securely, length reaching impossibly deeper inside you. Prominent vein grazing that one spot over and over.

“Hngh- Oh my god, Toru. S’too much!” you pull away to whine. 

“Open your mouth.” he murmurs raspily. As if body on auto-pilot, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out for what he was about to give.

Satoru’s stream of spit is warm on your tongue, making you clench around his merciless cock. He lets out a drawn-out groan, eyes boring down at you, holding a glint of the same insanity he has when he exorcizes curses, “My nasty girl. Can’t get enough of you.”

You moan at his words, hands reaching behind you to grab on the blindfold dangling on his neck. “Toru more-” you gasp out, your tight grip causing him to bow his head with a groan, cock twitching ferally. 

“Fuck! More? You fucking want more?” he groans out, voice wrecked with pleasure. 

You let out a yelp as his teeth dig into your neck - hard enough that you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up. Yet, your grip on his blindfold never waves, pulling him closer as he fucks roughly into your snug cunt. 

Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor. Unforgiving. Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. “Ah! Toru s’good.” 

You both cum with strangled gasps. A low keen at the back of Satoru’s throat, and he’s pumping hot ropes of cum into your awaiting pussy. Tears stinging your eyes at your sensitivity, all you know is a wave of pleasure as you ride out your climax on the ramming of his hips and the how full you are of his seed.

His hand still draws hurried, desperate circles on your clit. You squeal at the overstimulation, tears clinging to yours lashes. “Toru- hngh!” you can barely get out the words, his hips slamming into yours mercilessly as Satoru milks his cock desperately on your quivering pussy. 

“Shut up. You said you wanted more. You’re gonna get more, my little slut.” he mutters carnally.

Ah, you can’t do this. You were going to fucking pass out.

“One- more.” he moans.

Your thighs clench around him, pushing your plush walls deeper as he lets out raspy whimpers with each thrust. “Hah- hngh.” 

“Shit- Toru I’m-” Your climax hits you with a jolt, body twitching in pain and pleasure from the oversensitivity as your cunt flutters around his cock - not even being able to tell when Satoru’s orgasm ends and when yours starts. 

You feel a tear hit your shoulder, overstimulation too much for his poor cock as his seed coats your walls once more. It drips out of you, forming a pool on the floor as he pulls out - for only a second before you’re thrown on the bed. 

Orgasm-hazed brain barely having time to register what is happening before Satoru stalks towards you from the foot of the bed. Unhurriedly approaching you as you scoot towards the headboard.

Your pussy jumps exhaustedly at the sight of him - eyes darkened and narrowed at you like a predator that has spotted his prey. A devilish smirk stretches across his swollen lips, glossed prettily with spit and slick. 

Toru, I-I don’-” you words slur out. 

“One- one more, my girl. Please.” Satoru whimpers, throat shot from what transpired just before. His cock twitches, glistening with cum and slick, dripping onto the fresh bedsheets. 

As he looms closer, you wonder how the fuck Satoru was still holding up - was this all because of the chocolate? You have half the mind to wonder whether he was using reversed cursed technique to keep you both alive.

You mewl deliriously at the feeling of your legs being thrown on his shoulders. Eyes blown and face flushed your favorite shade of pink, he licks a long stripe up your ankles, voice cracking as he moans sinfully. 

Satoru’s flushed tip teases your entrance, dragging along your swollen folds. Fuck. Shit. Maybe you wouldn’t even mind dying if it was with his cock rammed in your snug cunt.

Barely even lucid, he thrusts harshly into you - your tight entrance readily sucking up his flushed tip. You both hiss at the sensitivity. Surely, one of you was going to pass out. 

Hand moving to grasp the blindfold around his neck, you pull him to you. Your hamstrings burn in protest as Satoru bends down to attach his lips with yours, moving down until you were folded in half. 

Tongue tangling with yours, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, fiery with an intensity that made you unsure if either of you would make it out of this alive. 

Heartbeat roaring in your ears, you don’t notice the crack! of the bed and neither does Satoru. Too caught up in desperately reaching whatever number orgasm it was this night. 

Moans incoherent, your body convulses, nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back as the bed creaks in protest. A strangled groan leaves his mouth, cock throbbing inside you - or maybe that was your quivering cunt. At this point you really didn’t know anymore. 

“Shit- ah! Fuck. I’m- M’cumming. M’cumming. Hngh- cumming!” he whines out, voice ragged and breathing unstable. Delicate tears streak down his face, dripping onto your quivering body below him. Salty.

You can only let out exhausted whines, too fucked out to form any proper sentences.

Hot seed gushing inside you again, it overflows out of you, cunt dripping and too full to take anymore. Yet, Satoru still fucks into you until he sees stars and his poor cock is cumming dry. You can barely even feel your climax, distant tingles and the only thing on your mind being Satoru Satoru Satoru. 

The air leaves your lungs as he collapses on top of you. Skin flushed and sticking to yours. Body twitching as his poor cock neverendingly shoots blanks inside of you. Which number was this even?

That’s when you black out.

Floating in and out of dreams of blue, blue skies and mini Satorus running around, you wake up with a start. Well, as much of a start as you could with your entire body aching as if you got run over by a truck - and then an entire zoo after.

Bleary eyes taking in your surroundings, you distinctly realize that you’re spread out on the living room couch. 

What happened.

“Hey, you okay?” a hoarse voice sounds from beside you. You could barely recognize it as your fiancé’s, words jagged from…whatever it was before.

“You…are you okay?” you rasp out, raising a brow exhaustedly. Satoru chuckles sheepishly, tenderly smoothing over the blanket placed on top of you. What a change from before - are you sure this is the same guy?

“Well…the wall is crumbling, we broke the bed, and I’m pretty sure my dick won’t work again for the next couple years.” he gets out in one breath. At your silence, he continues “And I think my favorite blindfold is out of commission.”

“...wow.”

“Wow.” 

“You lecher, you ate from my secret stash, didn’t you?”

“...”

A few days later, opening the refrigerator, you’re met with a wall of hot pink. A sticky note on top reading in Satoru’s hasty scrawl, “This time you take one too :D”

A/N. Wrote this while watching The Garfield Show.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[021894s]

SIMS ANATOMY - JAKE SIM

SYNOPSIS: you, a top cardiac surgeon, find yourself increasingly frustrated by the distraction over the hospital’s new head of neurosurgery, Dr. Jake Sim. Despite your initial annoyance, you can't help but notice Jake's charm and undeniable skills. As you keep running into each other, Jake’s persistent yet respectful flirtations begin to break through your professional exterior.

PAIRING: neurosurgeon! jake x cardio surgeon! reader

GENRE: workplace romance, situationship

WARNINGS: explicit smut, unprotected sex (don’t), oral (m and f receiving), angst, language, MDNI!!

wc: 12k

You step out of the OR, still riding the adrenaline high from the successful triple bypass surgery you just completed. The intricate dance of sutures and clamps still echoes in your mind as you head towards the nurses' station to update your patient's chart. You’ve always prided yourself on your precision and dedication, and today was no exception.

As you settle into the chair, logging into the system, you can't help but overhear snippets of conversation from the nearby nurses. Their voices are hushed but excited, and despite yourself, your ears prick up at the mention of a new doctor.

"Oh my god, have you seen Dr. Sim yet?" one nurse gushes, her voice practically dripping with admiration. "He's the new head of neuro. I can't believe he's not married with kids."

"Seriously, he's so handsome," another chimes in. "I thought doctors like him only existed in movies."

You roll your eyes internally, feeling a twinge of annoyance. These nurses should be focusing on their patients, not swooning over some new doctor. You know the type—charming, overconfident, used to turning heads wherever he goes. You’ve seen it a hundred times. It’s frustrating to think that professional women, who you’ve seen handle the toughest of medical crises with unflinching composure, could be so easily distracted by a pretty face.

"He smiled at me in the break room," another voice adds, dreamy and far away. "I nearly melted."

You resist the urge to scoff out loud. Instead, you channel your irritation into the chart in front of you, updating the post-op notes with meticulous detail. Your patient, Mr. Harrison, came through the surgery well, and you want to ensure there are no loose ends in his care plan. His vitals are stable, and the grafts look good. You make a note to check on him in an hour.

The chatter continues unabated. "I heard he’s a genius in the OR," someone says. "Apparently, he’s revolutionized some new technique in neurosurgery."

"Brains and looks? Not fair," another nurse quips, and they all dissolve into giggles.

You finish charting, your irritation only growing. It’s not that you begrudge the nurses their moment of levity—being a nurse is hard, often thankless work, and they deserve a bit of fun. But the object of their admiration rubs you the wrong way. You’ve had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously in a male-dominated field, and the idea of a doctor coasting on his looks and charm irks you.

Shaking your head slightly, you stand up and grab the chart. There’s still a lot to do, and you don’t have time to dwell on some pretty boy neurosurgeon. If he’s really as good as they say, you’ll see for yourself soon enough. And if not, well, you’ve never had a problem putting overconfident doctors in their place.

As you walk away from the nurses' station, you hear one last wistful sigh. "I can't wait to see him in action."

Neither can you, you think, but for entirely different reasons.

You step out of the OR, mind still buzzing with the details of the successful valve replacement surgery you just completed. you head to the cardiac unit to check on post-op patients, but something feels off. The usually bustling ward is eerily quiet, with only one nurse, Olivia, stationed at the desk.

“Olivia,” you calls out, her voice cutting through the silence. “Where is everyone?”

Olivia looks up, a hint of guilt flashing in her eyes. “They’re at lunch,” she replies a little too quickly, her tone unconvincing.

you narrows her eyes, knowing Olivia well enough to sense when she’s not telling the full truth. “Olivia...” you say in a stern voice, crossing your arms.

Olivia shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. “Okay, fine,” she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “They’re in OR 2’s gallery.”

Confusion flickers across your face. “Why would they be in the gallery?” you ask, your irritation growing.

“Dr. Sim is clipping an aneurysm,” Olivia admits, unable to meet your eyes.

That’s all you need to know, storming off towards the gallery, your footsteps echoing through the hallways. The idea of your nurses neglecting their duties to watch a surgery infuriates your. Jake’s presence in the hospital had already been a source of frustration, and now he was serving as a distraction for your team.

Reaching the gallery, you push open the door and stride in, your eyes scanning the crowd of nurses huddled around the glass, their attention glued to the procedure below. you spot Jake in the OR, skillfully clipping the aneurysm, his focus unwavering.

“What is going on here?” you demand, voice slicing through the murmurs. The nurses jump, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Why are you all here instead of attending to your patients?”

One of the nurses, Carla, steps forward, stammering. “We... we just wanted to see Dr. Sim’s technique. It’s supposed to be groundbreaking.”

your glare is icy. “I don’t care how groundbreaking it is. Your patients come first. Get back to your stations, now.”

The nurses scurry out, their heads bowed in embarrassment. you watch them go, your anger simmering. Jake’s impressive skills might have captivated your team, but to you, he was nothing more than a distraction. you couldn’t afford to have the nurses slacking off, not when lives depended on their diligence.

you turn back to the OR, eyes locking onto Jake. For a brief moment, your gazes meet through the glass, and you see a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps? Or was it amusement? Shaking off the thought, you storm out of the gallery, determined to keep your team on track and your own frustrations with Jake in check.

You catch sight of Jake coming out of the OR, his surgical cap still on and his scrubs marked with the evidence of a long, intense procedure. He’s engrossed in conversation with another surgeon, but as you approach, he looks up and meets your gaze.

“You must be Dr. Sim,” you say, your voice firm.

Jake smiles, wiping his hands with a towel. “Dr. Y/L/N, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I could say the same about you,” you reply, not missing a beat. “Seeing as you’re the reason my nurses are disappearing during their shifts to watch this so-called groundbreaking technique of yours.”

His smile falters slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize my surgeries were causing any issues. I’m sorry if they’ve been a distraction.”

“They have,” you state bluntly, crossing your arms. “My team’s focus should be on their patients, not on observing other procedures or a certain brain surgeon, no matter how impressive they might be.”

Jake’s lips curl into a playful grin. “Oh, so you think I’m impressive?”

You feel a flush of annoyance, typical behavior for a neurosurgeon, always so full of themselves. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it,” he teases, taking a step closer. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to maintain your stern demeanor. “My team doesn’t have time for distractions, Dr. Sim.”

“Fair enough,” he replies, his tone still light but his expression more serious. “I understand, and I’ll make sure to address it with the staff. I didn’t mean to disrupt the unit.”

You study him for a moment, gauging his sincerity. Despite your irritation, there’s something about his demeanor that disarms you slightly. You can’t help but notice his deep brown eyes, plump lips, and the way his Australian accent is way more attractive than it should be. You understand, in that moment, why the nurses might be so captivated.

“Good,” you say, your tone softening just a touch. “I appreciate that.”

Jake smiles again, this time a bit more warmly. “And if it’s any consolation, your reputation as a top cardiac surgeon is well-deserved. I look forward to working alongside you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, giving him a curt nod before turning to leave. As you walk away, you can’t shake the mixture of irritation and intrigue. Jake Sim might be causing headaches for your unit, but there’s no denying his skill and charm. You just hope he proves to be more than just a distraction.

A few days later, you find yourself in the hospital’s busy hallway, reviewing patient charts on your tablet. The hum of activity around you is a comforting backdrop until a familiar voice interrupts your focus.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” Jake calls out, his voice carrying that unmistakable Australian lilt. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You look up, and there he is, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Dr. Sim,” you acknowledge with a nod, trying to keep your tone neutral. “What can I do for you?”

“Just thought I’d say hello,” he replies, pushing off the wall and sauntering over to you. “And maybe ask how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you respond, keeping your eyes on your tablet.

“Busy as usual, I see,” he notes, glancing at the screen. “You ever take a break?”

“Breaks are for people who don’t have critical patients to tend to,” you reply, not looking up.

He chuckles, the sound warm and annoyingly pleasant. “You know, there’s more to life than work. Maybe you need someone to remind you of that.”

You finally look up, raising an eyebrow. “And I suppose you think you’re that someone?”

“Could be,” he says with a confident grin. “I mean, who better to show you the lighter side of things?”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Confidence is a necessity in our line of work,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “But I’ve heard it helps in other areas too.”

“Oh really? Like what?” you ask, despite yourself.

He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Like convincing brilliant surgeons to step out of their comfort zones once in a while.”

You scoff lightly, shaking your head. “I don’t need convincing, Dr. Sim. I have my priorities straight.”

“Of course you do,” he replies smoothly. “But even the best of us need a break sometimes. Don’t worry, I’m not asking you out. Just offering a bit of friendly advice.”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. “Friendly advice, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he says with a wink. “Think of it as a, professional courtesy.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite your best efforts to stay stern. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I get that a lot,” he says, flashing that infuriatingly charming smile. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to saving lives. But if you ever need a reminder of what fun looks like, you know where to find me.”

later that day, the hospital corridors are quieter than usual as you make your way to the elevators, finally heading home after a long shift. The soft hum of the building is almost soothing after the constant noise of the OR. You press the button and wait, your mind already shifting to thoughts of a hot shower and some much-needed sleep.

The elevator dings, and as the doors slide open, you see Jake standing inside, leaning against the back wall, his expression relaxed but alert. He looks up and his face lights up with a familiar, playful smile.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he greets, stepping aside to make room for you. “Heading home too?”

“Dr. Sim,” you reply, stepping in and pressing the button for the ground floor. “Looks like it.”

The doors close, and the elevator begins its descent. The enclosed space suddenly feels a bit smaller with the two of you in it.

“Long day?” he asks, glancing over at you.

“You could say that,” you respond, leaning back against the wall. “You?”

“Same here,” he says, a hint of fatigue creeping into his voice. “But it’s all part of the job, right?”

You nod, a brief silence settling between you. It’s not uncomfortable, but there’s an unspoken tension, a mix of mutual respect and something else you can’t quite put your finger on.

“So,” Jake breaks the silence, a teasing note in his voice. “Any plans for the evening? Or are you one of those surgeons who lives and breathes work even at home?”

You raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And what about you? Do you have a life outside the hospital, Dr. Sim?”

He laughs softly, the sound warm and genuine. “I try to, when I’m not dealing with brain surgery. But I’ll admit, it’s a challenge. The job can be all-consuming.”

“Tell me about it,” you agree, your tone more relaxed now. “Sometimes it feels like there’s no room for anything else.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s important to find some balance,” he says, his voice sincere. “Even if it’s just little moments here and there.”

You look at him, considering his words. There’s more to Jake than the cocky, flirtatious persona he often projects. “I suppose you’re right.”

The elevator dings again, signaling your arrival at the ground floor. As the doors open, you both step out into the lobby, the cool night air from outside brushing against your skin.

“Need a ride?” Jake offers, his tone casual but there’s a glint of genuine concern in his eyes. “It’s pretty late.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you reply, appreciating the offer but not ready to blur those professional lines just yet. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Count on it,” he says with a wink. “Have a good night, Dr. Y/L/N.”

“You too, Dr. Sim,” you respond, turning to head towards your car.

As you walk away, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of irritation and curiosity. Jake Sim might be a distraction, but there’s no denying that he’s also starting to become a presence you can’t quite ignore. And maybe, just maybe, that’s not entirely a bad thing.

The next day, you find yourself scrubbing in for a complex procedure. Today’s case is a particularly challenging one: a patient with both a severe cardiac condition and a cerebral aneurysm, requiring the combined expertise of both cardiac and neuro specialists. As you meticulously scrub your hands and arms, you hear the familiar voice of Jake Sim beside you.

“Looks like we’re working together today,” he says, his tone a mix of professionalism and that signature playful edge.

You glance over, meeting his eyes. “Seems like it. Ready for this?”

“Always,” he replies, his confident smile never wavering. “I’ve been looking forward to this case. It’s not every day we get to tackle something this intricate together.”

You nod, appreciating his enthusiasm despite your initial reservations about him. “Agreed. The patient’s condition is precarious. We need to be perfectly in sync.”

Jake gives you a serious nod, his demeanor shifting. “Absolutely. Let’s make sure we give them the best outcome possible.”

You both finish scrubbing in and enter the OR, where the patient is already prepped and waiting. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of tension and anticipation, the surgical team moving with practiced precision. As you take your place on one side of the patient, Jake positions himself on the other, eyes meeting over the sterile field.

“Ready to start?” you ask, your voice steady and focused.

“Ready,” Jake confirms, his expression equally determined.

The surgery begins, and the OR fills with the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the soft hum of machinery. You work methodically, your hands moving with practiced precision as you navigate the complex landscape of the patient’s heart. Jake mirrors your concentration, his focus unbroken as he tackles the aneurysm with equal skill.

“Forceps,” you request, your voice calm and controlled.

“Here,” the scrub nurse says, passing the instrument with a fluid motion. “How’s the heart looking?” jake asks

“Stable,” you reply, glancing up briefly to meet his eyes. “How about the aneurysm?”

“It’s going well,” he answers, his tone steady. “We’re almost there.”

As the surgery progresses, you find yourselves falling into a natural rhythm, your movements synchronized in a way that surprises you. There’s a subtle, unspoken understanding between you, each anticipating the other’s needs and adjustments.

“Nice work on that bypass,” Jake comments, his tone genuinely appreciative.

“Thanks,” you reply, a small smile forming behind your mask. “Your precision with the aneurysm is impressive.”

“Coming from you, that means a lot,” he says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice.

Hours pass, but the intensity of your focus never wanes. Finally, as the last suture is placed and the patient’s vitals stabilize, you both step back, a sense of accomplishment settling over you.

“Great job, everyone,” you say to the team, who respond with nods and murmurs of agreement.

Jake meets your eyes, his expression one of respect and something more. “We make a good team, Dr. Y/L/N.”

You nod, feeling a surprising sense of camaraderie. “We do, Dr. Sim. Let’s hope the patient has a smooth recovery.”

As you step out of the OR and begin the process of de-scrubbing, you can’t help but reflect on the day’s events. Working alongside Jake, seeing his skill and dedication firsthand, has shifted your perspective. He’s still cocky, still flirty, but there’s depth and talent beneath that exterior.

“Drinks tonight to celebrate?” Jake asks, a teasing glint in his eye as you both head towards the locker rooms.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe another time, Dr. Sim. But good work today.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, dropping the formalities for a moment. “Seriously, it was an honor working with you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” you admit, giving him a genuine smile before heading off to change.

The next few weeks bring more opportunities for you and Jake to work together, and each collaboration reveals another layer of his skill and personality. Despite his initial cockiness, Jake proves to be a dedicated and talented surgeon, and you begin to see him in a new light. The more time you spend together in the OR, the more you find yourself appreciating his expertise and even enjoying his company.

One evening, you find yourself finishing up some paperwork in the quiet cardiac unit. The day had been long, but fulfilling, with several successful surgeries under your belt. As you look up from your desk, you see Jake approaching, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "You still here?"

"Just wrapping up," you reply, setting aside your pen. "What about you?"

"Same," he says, stepping into your office. "I was going to head out, but I thought I'd check in on you first."

"Checking in on me, huh?" you say with a hint of amusement. "What for?"

"Well, I was thinking," he starts, a bit more serious than usual. "We've been working together a lot lately, and I wanted to say thank you. For trusting me in the OR and for being an amazing colleague."

You feel a warm glow at his words, appreciating the sincerity behind them. "Thank you, Jake. You've been a great partner in the OR. I couldn't have asked for a better neurosurgeon to collaborate with."

Jake smiles, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. "You know, I think we make a pretty good team."

"I think so too," you admit, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's been nice, working with you."

"Nice, huh?" he teases, his playful side emerging once more. "I'll take that as a high compliment coming from you."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Don't let it go to your head, Sim."

He chuckles, but his expression soon turns more contemplative. "You know, I've been thinking about what I said the other day. About balance and taking breaks. It's something I'm not great at either."

"a little hypocritical to be giving me advice then no?," you reply, your tone light but teasing. "It's hard to switch off when our work is so demanding."

"Exactly," he agrees. "But I've realized that maybe we could help each other with that. Maybe we could find a way to balance things out a bit more."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"How about we start with something simple?" he suggests. "Like taking a real break. Maybe grab a coffee together, no work talk allowed. Just two colleagues, taking a breather."

You consider his offer, the idea surprisingly appealing. "Alright, Dr. Sim. Coffee sounds good."

Jake's smile widens, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Great. Tomorrow morning, then? Before our rounds?"

"Tomorrow morning," you agree, feeling a flutter of anticipation.

The next morning, you find yourself at the hospital’s small café, waiting for Jake. The early hour means the space is quiet, with only a few other staff members milling about. When Jake arrives, he’s carrying two steaming cups of coffee, a smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he greets, handing you a cup. “Thought I’d get us a head start.”

“Thanks,” you say, accepting the coffee and taking a sip. “So, what’s on your mind, Dr. Sim?”

“Just enjoying the company,” he replies, sitting down across from you. “And maybe getting to know the person behind the scalpel a little better.”

You chuckle, feeling a bit more at ease. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

“Let’s start simple,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “What do you do when you’re not saving lives?”

You think for a moment, realizing how rare it is for you to talk about anything other than work. “I like to read, mostly. And sometimes I go for a run. It helps clear my head.”

“Sounds nice,” he says, nodding. “I’m more of a swimmer myself. It’s the one thing that keeps me sane outside the OR.”

“Swimming, huh?” you ask, surprised. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a swimmer.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Y/N,” he says, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness.

“Maybe,” you admit, feeling a strange curiosity about him. “But I’m starting to think I’d like to find out.”

The conversation flows easily, and you find yourself genuinely enjoying the time with Jake. As you talk, you see different sides of him—his passion for his work, his dedication to his patients, and even a vulnerable side that he rarely shows.

When it’s time to head back to your respective departments, you feel a sense of connection that wasn’t there before. Maybe Jake Sim is more than just a distraction. Maybe he’s someone worth getting to know.

As you part ways, he gives you a warm smile. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time,” you agree, already looking forward to it.

And so, a new routine begins. Coffee in the mornings, shared surgeries, and increasingly personal conversations. The barriers you once held up start to crumble, and you find yourself drawn to Jake in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

Weeks pass, and the connection between you grows stronger. One evening, after another successful surgery, Jake catches up to you in the hallway.

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” you reply, curious.

“I was thinking,” he starts, looking a bit nervous for the first time. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. I’d like to take you out for dinner. No work, just us.”

You feel a flutter of surprise and anticipation. “Dinner?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you say?”

You consider for a moment, then nod. “Alright, Jake. Dinner sounds good.”

As he walks away, you can’t help but smile.

The evening of your date arrives, and you’re both excited and a bit nervous. You’ve chosen a smart but casual outfit, and after a final check in the mirror, you’re ready. Your heart flutters with anticipation as you hear the sound of a car pulling up outside your apartment.

When you open the door, Jake is standing there, looking effortlessly charming in a blazer and jeans. His eyes light up as he sees you, and he smiles warmly.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he says with a grin. “You look pretty.”

“Thank you, Dr. Sim,” you reply with a smile, feeling a bit flustered. “You look pretty sharp yourself.”

He gestures to the car parked behind him. “Shall we?”

You nod and follow him down to the car. As you slide into the passenger seat, Jake starts the engine and glances over with a playful smile.

“So, are you ready for an evening of fine dining and even finer conversation?” he asks, his tone light and teasing.

“I’m definitely looking forward to it,” you reply, settling into the seat and feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity.

As he drives, the conversation flows easily. Jake talks about his day and a recent surgery he performed, and you share some anecdotes from your own work. The drive is filled with laughter and engaging conversation, making you feel more at ease.

When you arrive at the restaurant, Jake parks and opens the door for you, offering his hand to help you out. The restaurant is a cozy bistro with warm lighting and a relaxed atmosphere. Jake leads you inside and to your reserved table, which is positioned by a window with a view of the city lights.

“This place looks lovely,” you say as you take your seat, admiring the ambiance.

“I’m glad you like it,” Jake replies, settling into his chair across from you. “I thought it would be a nice spot for our first dinner out.”

The evening progresses with delightful conversation and delicious food. Jake is attentive and charming, making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. As you both talk about various topics, you find yourself opening up more than you expected.

At one point, Jake asks, “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

You think for a moment, considering the question. “I’ve always wanted to take a cooking class. I love to cook, but I think it would be fun to learn some new techniques and recipes.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Jake says, nodding. “Maybe we could take a class together sometime. I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook Italian cuisine.”

You smile at the thought. “That could be fun. I’d be up for that.”

As the evening progresses, the conversation turns more personal. Jake shares stories about his family and his upbringing in Australia. He talks about the challenges of being far from home and the sacrifices he’s made for his career.

“It’s not always easy being so far away from my family,” Jake admits. “I miss them a lot, especially during the holidays.”

“I can imagine,” you say sympathetically. “My family is close by, and we have our own share of drama, but I’m grateful for their support.”

Jake nods, appreciating your understanding. “Family can be complicated, but it’s important to have that support system.”

You both continue to share personal stories and insights, finding common ground in your experiences. By the end of the evening, you feel a genuine connection with Jake, one that goes beyond professional respect.

When the check arrives, Jake insists on paying. “It’s my treat tonight,” he says with a smile. “Consider it a small thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you, Jake,” you reply, feeling touched by his gesture. “I really appreciate it.”

. The night air is crisp and refreshing, and the drive home is filled with easy conversation. When you arrive at your apartment, Jake parks and turns to you with a hopeful expression.

“I had a great time tonight,” he says softly. “I hope you did too.”

“I did,” you reply with a smile. “Thank you for such a lovely evening.”

you hesitate for a moment, then look at jake with a warm smile. “Would you like to come up? Maybe just hang out and talk some more?”

he considers the offer, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. “That sounds nice. I’d love to.”

He smiles and follows you up to your apartment. As you enter, the space feels even more welcoming with the soft lighting and cozy atmosphere. You both get comfortable on the couch with drinks, and the conversation continues to flow effortlessly.

You find yourselves talking about everything from past relationships to future aspirations. As the conversation flows, Jake starts to open up about his past relationships. “You know, I’ve had my fair share of relationships that didn’t work out. One of the biggest challenges was balancing the demands of work and personal life. It’s not easy to find someone who understands the hours and the emotional toll.”

“I get that,” you say sympathetically. “It’s hard to maintain a relationship when your job takes up so much of your time and energy. My last relationship ended for similar reasons.”

Jake looks at you with genuine curiosity. “What happened?”

You take a deep breath, reflecting on your past. “We were together for a few years, and it started out great. But as time went on, he couldn’t handle the unpredictability of my schedule and the stress of my job. We drifted apart, and eventually, we just grew in different directions.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jake says softly. “It’s never easy to end a relationship, especially when it’s someone you care about.”

“Thanks,” you reply. “It’s part of life, I guess. We both moved on and found our own paths.”

Jake nods, taking a sip of his wine. The easy conversation slows, a new, more, intimate silence settling between the two of you.

Jake shifts slightly, closing the gap between you. his eyes locked on yours. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, and you suddenly felt very aware of your own. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

your heart raced as Jake leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. you responded eagerly, parting your lips to allow his tongue to explore your mouth. you could feel the heat building between you as you kissed, your bodies pressed together.

Jake's hands began to wander, tracing patterns on your back. you could feel his fingers brushing against the zipper of your dress, and you shivered with anticipation.

Jake pulled away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "May I?" he asked, his hand hovering over the zipper.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. Jake slowly unzipped the dress, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so. You felt a thrill run through your body as the dress fell to the floor, leaving her standing in just your matching black bra and panties.

Jake's eyes roamed over yourbody, taking in every inch of you. You could feel yourself growing wet as he looked at you, his desire obvious and reflecting your own.

Jake stepped closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch you. You could feel his fingers tracing the lace of your bra, you shivered with pleasure. He leaned in and began to kiss your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

a soft moan escapes as Jake's lips moved down your body, his hands following close behind. “you’re so fucking beautiful” He reached your breasts, his fingers tracing the outline of your nipples through the lace of your bra. You could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your body begging for more. “been thinking about this since the first day I saw you”

Jake reached behind You and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your tits in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your nipples. You moaned as he touched you, your body responding to his touch.

Jake's mouth moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. you could feel his breath against her skin, and she shivered with anticipation. “w-ant you” He reached for your panties, “relax baby I got you”, his fingers tracing the outline of your pussy through the fabric.

you gasp as Jake's fingers slip beneath your panties, his fingers exploring your folds. you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your body begging for more.

Jake pulled your panties down, his eyes locked on your pussy, “shit baby, you’re so wet f’me, such a pretty pussy” He leaned in and began to kiss your inner thighs, his lips igniting the heat pooling in your lower belly.

Jakes mouth moved lower, his lips brushing against your pussy. a loud moan leaves your lips as he began to lick at your entrance, your hand instinctively going between your legs to run your fingers through his black locks. “fuck, jake feels so fucking good don’t stop” he hums in response, the vibration going straight to your core.

he’s practically making out with your cunt licking and sucking, his saliva and your juices combined, making a mess on your couch, but that was the last thing on your mind right now. “fuck i’m c-cuming” your orgasm rapidly approaching. “yeah baby cum on my tongue, fuck can’t get enough of you, you taste so sweet”. at his words, your orgasm hits you like a wave, your body shaking with pleasure.

Jake stood up, his eyes locked on yours. you could see the desire in his eyes, and you knew what he wanted. you reached out and unbuttoned his pants, fingers brushing against his hard cock.

Jake stepped out of his pants, his hard cock springing free. while he wasn’t remarkably long, he definitely made up for it in girth. You reached out and wrapped your hand around it, stroking it gently. “ah shit baby” you could feel him growing harder in your hand, your excitement noticable.

he pushed you down onto the couch, climbing on top of you. “condom?” he asked, stopping in his tracks before he gets too ahead of himself. “it’s fine, just put it in” you reach down between you two, taking hold of his length as you begin to guide his cock into your dripping heat. his cock twitches at the thought of feeling you with nothing in between, “fuck, are you sure?”, “yeah, m’on the pill, just fuck me already please” your walls clench around nothing, needing to feel him inside you more than anything.

without another word he slides in. the stinging sensation quickly turning into one of pleasure. your pussy gripping him tightly as he sets a pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “so fucking tight, pretty, you’re squeezing me so good. pussy was made for my cock mhm?” you can’t even find the words to reply, the pleasure all too much to even think straight.

“feels so good jake” your words encourage him, his thrusts growing more quick, chasing his release as well as your own. the room is filled moans and the sloppy, wet sounds of his cock pounding into your hole. “s-so close, faster baby, want your cum inside me” you don’t have to tell him twice, his hips snapping into a pace that has you seeing stars.

“cum for me baby, cum on my cock” his hand reaches between you to rub your clit in quick circles, sending you over the edge “fuck! i’m cumming!” your release consumes you, his following not too long after.

he collapses next to you on the tiny couch, the both of you panting and out of breath as you come down from your high. “that was amazing” you turn your head to look at him, his eyes closed from pure euphoria he just experienced. “amazing is an understatement. it was fan fucking tastic” you let out a laugh at his pure honesty, a comfortable silence settling in the room.

he pulls you in by your waist, positioning you so your back is against his chest, a more comfortable position since your couch is definitely not meant for this. “i had a good time tonight” you can’t help the smile that grows on your face “me too”

as if the universe was against you, a beeping noise cuts through the silence, ending your moment. his pager was going off, they probably needed him back at the hospital, the realization of your jobs hitting you like a truck. “way to ruin the moment” he says getting up to check the pager “I gotta go, i’ll see you at work?” you smile at him nodding. he quickly gets dressed and presses a quick peck to your lips “get some rest” he tells you before rushing out the door to make his way to the hospital.

you can’t help but be a little disappointed. The obligation of your job was one of the many reasons you didn’t date, simply because it didn’t work. why did you expect this to be any different?

you drift off into a slumber, too tired to let your thoughts cloud your mind.

The next morning, the hospital is bustling with the usual chaos as you walk through the corridors towards your office. Despite the busy environment, your mind keeps drifting back to the night before with Jake. The memory of his touch, his kisses, and the intimate conversations you shared fills you with a warm, lingering sense of connection.

As you turn the corner, you see Jake standing near the nurses’ station, discussing a case with a colleague. He looks up and catches your eye, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. There’s a new glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before, a mixture of warmth and mischief.

“Good morning, Dr. Y/L/N,” Jake calls out, his tone playful and a bit louder than necessary, drawing the attention of nearby staff. “Did you sleep well?”

You feel a blush rising but manage to keep your composure. “Good morning, Dr. Sim. I did, thank you. And you?”

“didn’t sleep much, had a lot on my mind,” he replies, his grin widening as he walks over to you. “Must be the excellent company I had last night.”

Several nurses and doctors nearby glance over with curious expressions, but Jake seems unfazed. He stops just a bit too close, his presence commanding your attention. “I was hoping we might catch up over lunch. I’ve been craving some more of those conversations we had.”

You raise an eyebrow, fighting the smile that’s threatening to break through. “Is that so? Well, I’ll have to check my schedule.”

Jake chuckles, leaning in slightly. “You do that. In the meantime, if you need anything at all, you know where to find me.” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, “Or maybe I should say, you know where to call me.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his audacity. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Sim.”

He winks at you before stepping back, returning to his conversation with the colleague but not without a lingering glance over his shoulder.

Throughout the morning, you find yourself running into Jake more often than usual. Each time, he manages to throw in a playful comment or a flirty remark, making it clear that last night’s intimacy has only fueled his interest.

In the break room, you’re pouring a cup of coffee when Jake slips in beside you. “we meet again,” he says, his tone light. “I was just thinking about how good you look in scrubs.”

You roll your eyes but smile, feeling a flutter of excitement. “Really? I’m sure you say that to all the doctors.”

“Only the ones who make a lasting impression,” he replies smoothly, his eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.

Later, while reviewing patient charts at your desk, you receive a text from Jake. It’s a picture of a heart drawn on a napkin, with a message: “Couldn’t help but think of you during rounds.”

You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. It’s clear that Jake’s flirting isn’t just a passing fancy; there’s a genuine interest and warmth behind his actions that makes your heart skip a beat.

Weeks turn into months, and your relationship with Jake settles into a comfortable, intimate rhythm. Without any formal labels, your connection grows deeper, rooted in shared moments and unspoken understandings. Lunches in the cafeteria become a regular occurrence, interspersed with stolen glances across the OR and late-night encounters that leave you breathless and wanting more.

You find yourself looking forward to these moments, the thrill of sneaking around adding a layer of excitement. During shifts, Jake’s flirtatious comments become a highlight of your day.

One afternoon, you’re in the break room, reviewing patient charts when Jake walks in, his usual confident stride and easy smile making your heart skip a beat. He leans against the counter, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hey, beautiful. Busy?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Always,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the turmoil in your chest.

Jake walks over, his presence commanding your attention. “You look like you could use a break. How about a coffee?”

You glance at the clock, knowing you have a few minutes to spare. “Sure, why not?”

As you walk to the “coffee shop” side by side, jake quickly takes a glance around to make sure no one is watching and pulls you into the on-call room, the tension between you palpable, you can’t help but feel the thrill of anticipation. The moment the door closes behind you, Jake’s hands are on your waist, pulling you close. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s both urgent and tender, a mix of passion and familiarity that leaves you breathless.

“You’ve been on my mind all day,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands roaming over your back.

“you pulled me away for this?” you let out a slight chuckle. “mhm want you so bad” his lips move down to your neck “jake we’re at work.”

your eyes shut closed, enjoying the feeling of his soft, plump lips on that sweet spot behind you ear that he always found instantly. “doors locked, no one’s coming in here” he mutters out.

you give in, your hands immediately going to his pants and undoing the tie on his scrub bottoms. “well in that case, I wanna suck your cock” you whispered, lowering down into your knees in front of him. Jake's eyes widened in surprise, but then he grinned.

"Fuck, yeah," he said, dropping his pants and boxers. His cock was hard and thick, the tip already glistening with precum, your heart pounding with excitement.

you reached out and wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it gently. Jake groaned and closed his eyes, his head thrown back. you leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock, tasting the salty precum. Jake's groan grew louder as you opened your mouth and took him in, lips sliding down his veiny shaft.

you started to suck, head bobbing up and down as youworked his cock. Jake's hands were in yoir hair, guiding you as you sucked him off. you could feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, his balls tightening as he got closer to cumming.

"yeah, baby," Jake groaned, his hips thrusting forward as he fucked your mouth. "You're gonna make me cum so hard."

You moan around his cock, the sound vibrating through his shaft. You could feel his cock twitching in yourmouth, his balls tightening even more. you continued faster, fingers digging into his thighs as you worked him.

Jake's groans grew louder, his thrusts more urgent. you could feel his cock swelling, his precum flowing freely. you sucked harder, cheeks hollowing as your mouth got him to his release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Jake groaned, his hips bucking as he came hard in your mouth. You swallowed, throat working as you took every drop of his cum. Jake's hands were in you hair, holding your head as he came, his hips still thrusting as he emptied himself into your mouth.

When he was done, you pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jake's cock was still hard, but it was starting to soften. You stood up, smiling at him.

"Did you like that?" you asked, voice soft and seductive. Jake grinned, his eyes still glazed with pleasure.

"I loved it," he said, pulling you into a kiss. "That was amazing."

As the weeks went on, you and Jake continued the little rhythm you had set in place. He flirted with you every chance he got. The both of you ending up in each others beds more often than not.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day at the hospital, you’re sitting in your apartment, staring blankly at the schedule in front of you. Your mind keeps drifting back to Jake—the way he looked at you during lunch, the warmth of his hand on your back as he guided you through the crowded cafeteria. The realization hits you like a tidal wave: you’re falling for him. Hard.

It terrifies you.

You’ve always prided yourself on being focused, dedicated, and in control of your emotions. But with Jake, everything feels different. The boundaries you set for yourself are blurring, and you’re not sure if you can handle the implications.

The demands of your job loom heavily over you. The long hours, the constant pressure, and the emotional toll of the medical field leave little room for anything else. As you stare at the schedule for the coming weeks, packed with surgeries and patient consultations, the reality sinks in: maintaining a relationship would be nearly impossible. The thought of trying to juggle your career and a growing emotional commitment to Jake feels overwhelming. After much soul-searching, you come to a difficult conclusion. It’s not fair to him or to yourself to continue something you can’t fully sustain. With a heavy heart, you decide it’s best to end things, believing that stepping back is the only way to preserve the little balance in your life.

The next day, you’re in the break room, trying to focus on patient charts when Jake walks in. He greets you with his usual easy smile, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.

“Hey, what are you up to?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

“just charting, the usual,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the turmoil in your chest.

Jake walks over, his presence commanding your attention. “You wanna step away for a bit and grab lunch with me?”

You hesitate, the words on the tip of your tongue. You want to say yes, but the fear of what it might mean if you keep going down this path holds you back. “Actually, I have a lot to catch up on. Maybe another time.”

Jake’s brow furrows, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

You force a smile, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with work.”

He doesn’t push, but you can see the worry in his eyes as he nods and leaves you to your charts.

Over the next few days, you start to pull back, keeping your interactions with Jake strictly professional. You avoid the on-call room, decline his offers for lunch, and keep your conversations short and to the point. It’s not easy, and you can see the confusion and hurt in his eyes every time you brush him off.

One evening, you’re leaving the hospital when you run into Jake in the parking lot. He’s leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression serious.

“Y/N, can we talk?” he asks, his voice a mix of frustration and concern.

You nod, knowing you can’t avoid this conversation forever. “Sure.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and I don’t understand why. Did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “No, Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About what we’re doing.”

Jake’s expression softens, and he steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you. “I’ve realized that I can’t keep up with a relationship right now. Our jobs are so demanding, and I’m constantly running on empty. I don’t think I can give you the attention and commitment you deserve.”

Jake’s expression shifts from confusion to hurt. “Y/N, I thought we were making this work. Why now? What changed?”

You struggle to keep your voice steady, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “It’s not about you. It’s about me and my inability to balance everything. I’ve been trying to make it work, but I can’t keep up with both my job and a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Jake’s eyes drop to the floor, and he takes a deep breath, trying to process what you’ve said. “So, this is it? You’re just… ending things? before they even started?”

You nod, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I think it’s best. I care about you a lot, but right now, I can’t handle more than what I’ve got.”

Jake remains silent for a moment, then looks back at you with a pained expression. “I get it, Y/N. If this is what you need, then I respect your decision. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

You reach out, touching his arm gently. “I’m so sorry, Jake. This isn’t what I wanted, but I need to focus on my career right now. I hope you understand.”

He nods, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “Yeah, I understand. It doesn’t make it any less painful, but I get it.”

As you turn to leave, you feel a deep ache in your chest, knowing that you’ve made the right decision for yourself, but also feeling the weight of the loss. The break room seems colder now, and the empty space where Jake used to stand feels like a gaping hole in your heart.

Adjusting to life without Jake is more challenging than you anticipated. The hospital, once a place of shared glances and flirtatious banter, now feels strangely empty. The absence of his smile, his reassuring presence, and the warmth of his touch leaves a void that’s hard to ignore.

At work, you focus intently on your patients and your responsibilities, but the familiar routine feels different. The small moments that once brought you joy—a playful comment during a surgery, a quick coffee break together—are now replaced with an uncomfortable silence. Conversations with Jake are limited to work-related topics, and every interaction is laced with a professional distance that feels foreign and awkward.

In the OR, you work side by side, your focus on the patient and the procedure. Jake’s skill and calm demeanor are still impressive, and you find yourself appreciating his expertise even more now. But the casual camaraderie you once enjoyed is gone, replaced by a formality that feels both stifling and isolating.

During breaks, you find yourself missing the easy conversations you used to have with him. You used to share small victories and frustrations, but now those moments are spent in solitude or with other colleagues who don’t quite fill the gap Jake left behind.

Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you can’t help but feel the pangs of loneliness. Your personal life remains focused solely on work, and the connection you once had with Jake seems like a distant memory. You remind yourself why you made the decision, focusing on the demanding nature of your job and the need for balance.

Gradually, you begin to adjust, finding solace in the routine of your work and the support of your colleagues. The initial pain of Jake’s absence dulls over time, replaced by a newfound focus on your career and a deeper understanding of your own needs. Though the void remains, you learn to navigate your days with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication.

You’re passing through the hospital lobby, your mind preoccupied with patient charts, when you spot Jake standing near the information desk. He’s engaged in a conversation with Dr. Choi Miyeon, the oncology attending. Your steps slow involuntarily as you notice the easy laughter between them.

Jake’s smile is wide and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that once made your heart flutter. But today, the sight of that smile, directed at someone else, sends a pang of jealousy through you. Dr. Choi, with her poised demeanor and confident air, seems to be enjoying his attention, and the familiarity between them feels almost too intimate.

You try to focus on your task, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the two of them. Jake’s hand gestures animatedly as he talks, his face lighting up in a way that you haven’t seen directed at you in weeks. Dr. Choi’s laughter is soft and melodic, and she tilts her head slightly, clearly engaged in the conversation.

The sight of Jake looking so at ease with someone else brings an unexpected rush of emotion. You find yourself clenching your jaw, trying to ignore the gnawing sense of loss that accompanies the jealousy. It’s a reminder of the connection you once shared and the void left behind by your decision.

You force yourself to look away, turning back to your work with a renewed determination to focus on your patients. But the image of Jake’s smile and the easy rapport he shares with Dr. Choi lingers in your mind, leaving you with a mixture of regret and longing that’s hard to shake.

As you continue with your tasks, the memory of Jake’s interaction with Dr. Choi lingers, clouding your focus. Every time you glance up from your charts or interact with colleagues, your thoughts drift back to that moment in the lobby.

In the break room later that day, you catch sight of Jake entering, still visibly animated from his conversation with Dr. Choi. He looks up and sees you, his face lighting up with that same welcoming smile that used to be exclusively for you. The sight of it only intensifies the pang of jealousy you felt earlier.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake says, approaching you with his usual warmth.

“Hi, Jake,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You make a deliberate effort to maintain your professional composure, avoiding any mention of the earlier encounter.

Jake seems to sense a change in your demeanor but doesn’t press. Instead, he casually starts discussing the upcoming surgery, his tone light and engaging. You nod along, responding with the necessary professionalism, but your mind is elsewhere. You keep picturing him with Dr. Choi, the way they interacted so naturally, and it’s hard to ignore the twinge of regret.

As you wrap up the conversation and head to your next task, you can’t help but feel a deepening sense of frustration. The realization that you still care about Jake more than you initially admitted weighs heavily on you. The professional distance you’ve maintained seems more like a barrier than a solution, and the void he left behind is harder to ignore than you thought.

Later that evening, as you drive home, you replay the scene in your mind, questioning your decision. You wonder if stepping back from Jake was truly the right choice, or if you were merely trying to shield yourself from the possibility of a meaningful connection. The jealousy you felt is a clear sign of unresolved feelings, and it becomes evident that the emotional aftermath of ending things is more complex than you anticipated.

By the time you reach your apartment, you’re left grappling with the realization that you might have made a mistake. The lingering image of Jake’s smile, coupled with the undeniable ache in your chest, leaves you pondering whether there’s a way to reconcile your fears with the genuine affection you still feel for him.

But it would be utterly selfish of you to go running back to him when he’s seemingly started to move on. This was all your doing after all. He had every right to find what you couldn’t give him in someone else.

The ache in your chest refuses to fade. The image of Jake smiling at Dr. Choi replays in your mind like a loop, and the jealousy you felt transforms into a deeper, more introspective turmoil. You sit in your apartment, the stillness of the room amplifying the thoughts racing through your head.

You replay the conversations and moments you shared with Jake, recalling the comfort and joy he brought into your life. The connection you had felt real and profound, and now that it’s gone, the void seems more pronounced than you expected. The professional distance you’ve maintained does little to mitigate the lingering emotional impact, and the space between you feels even more significant.

The next day, you find yourself in the hospital, struggling to maintain the professional facade you’ve carefully constructed. Every interaction with Jake, though polite and necessary, feels strained and awkward. You avoid his gaze when you can, focusing solely on your patients and tasks, but the undercurrent of unresolved feelings remains.

During a particularly intense surgery, Jake is once again by your side, and the familiarity of working with him brings back a rush of memories. His presence, though professional, is comforting, and you find yourself drawn to him despite your earlier resolve. As you work together seamlessly, the shared glances and brief touches become almost impossible to ignore, reigniting a flicker of the intimacy you once had.

After the surgery, you’re in the on-call room, trying to catch your breath and clear your mind. Jake enters, a small smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, the professional barrier you’ve erected feels flimsy. He approaches you, his tone soft but playful.

“Everything okay, Y/N? You seem a bit distracted today.”

You look up, meeting his gaze. His concern and warmth are genuine, and it only adds to the confusion you’re feeling. “Just a lot on my mind,” you admit, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Jake’s eyes linger on you, a hint of frustration and worry evident. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

His words cut through the walls you’ve built, and for a moment, you allow yourself to consider what you’ve been missing. The idea of opening up to Jake, of sharing your fears and feelings, feels both daunting and inviting.

As the day goes on, you grapple with the decision to reach out to him. The barriers you’ve erected are crumbling, and you realize that avoiding Jake might not be the solution you hoped for. Instead, you begin to consider whether there’s a way to address your fears and find a balance between your demanding career and a meaningful relationship.

The thought of reaching out to Jake, of possibly reconciling your emotions with the connection you still feel, starts to take shape. It’s a daunting step, but one that feels increasingly necessary as you navigate the complexities of your feelings and the emptiness left by his absence.

The days following your realization feel like a mix of regret and self-reproach. You can’t ignore the growing sense of remorse over ending things with Jake. The emptiness left by his absence is more acute than you anticipated, and the thought of missing out on something meaningful drives you to act.

One evening, determined to make things right, you head to Jake’s apartment, hoping to talk things through. Your heart races as you reach his door, and you take a deep breath before knocking.

After a moment, the door opens, and your heart sinks when you see Dr. Choi Miyeon standing there. Her presence immediately sends a wave of jealousy and discomfort through you.

“Doctor Y/L/N?” Miyeon says, her tone a mix of surprise and curiosity.

You stand frozen for a moment, the sight of her at Jake’s door intensifying your doubts. “Doctor Choi,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.

Miyeon’s expression shifts to one of mild confusion. “Did you need something?”

The thought of Jake being with Miyeon, combined with the realization that you’re intruding on what feels like an intimate moment, makes your decision for you. The hurt and uncertainty you’ve been feeling come to a head, and you realize you’re not ready to face him under these circumstances.

“I uh actually I’ll come at a better time”. Without another word, you turn and walk away from the door, your heart heavy with a mix of regret and frustration. You can hear Miyeon’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop. The realization that you’ve arrived at the wrong moment only deepens the sense of regret.

As you leave the building, the cool night air hits your face, offering a brief respite from the emotional storm you’re navigating. You’re left grappling with the decision to return, to try again, or to accept the possibility that you might have missed your chance. The weight of the encounter with Miyeon only adds to the complexity of your feelings, leaving you to ponder your next steps in the solitude of the evening.

The following days are a haze of frustration and introspection. Seeing Miyeon at Jake's apartment made you feel even more disconnected from him. At work, maintaining your professional facade becomes more difficult as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you.

One morning, you’re at your locker, preparing for your shift, when Olivia walks in, her usual cheerful demeanor tempered by concern. “Hey, Y/N, you okay? You seem a bit off lately.”

You force a smile, trying to mask your turmoil. “Just a lot on my mind, Olivia. Thanks for asking.”

She nods sympathetically. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here. We all have rough patches.”

You thank her and head to the OR, trying to push your thoughts aside. But every encounter with Jake is a reminder of what you’ve lost. You see him in the corridors, in meetings, and every interaction is laced with a painful awareness of the distance between you.

One afternoon, you’re in the middle of reviewing patient files when Jake approaches you. His expression is neutral, but there’s an underlying tension in his eyes. “Y/N, can we talk?”

You nod, setting your files aside. “Sure, what’s up?”

He leads you to a quieter corner of the hospital. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the other night. I saw you at my apartment, and then you just… left. What happened?”

You take a deep breath, the memory of that evening still fresh and painful. “I came to talk to you, to explain that I made a mistake in ending things. But when I saw Miyeon, I realized I couldn’t do it.”

Jake’s expression softens, a mix of understanding and frustration in his eyes. “Miyeon and I were just going over some research. There’s nothing between us, Y/N. But I get why you’d feel that way.”

The weight of your regret feels heavier now, knowing you misinterpreted the situation. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’ve been struggling with everything, and seeing you with her just… hurt. I felt like I’d already lost you.”

He steps closer, his voice gentle but firm. “You haven’t lost me, Y/N. I care about you. But we need to figure out what we’re doing here. This back and forth isn’t good for either of us.”

You nod, feeling the weight of your emotions. “I know. I’ve been scared, Jake. Scared that our jobs would make it impossible to have a real relationship. But I realize now that pushing you away was a mistake.”

Jake’s gaze softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand. “We can make this work if we both want it, Y/N. But we have to be honest with each other, and we have to be willing to try.”

You squeeze his hand, a sense of relief washing over you. “I do want to try, Jake. I want us to work.”

He smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Then let’s take it one step at a time. We’ll figure this out together.”

As you stand there, hand in hand, you feel a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead won’t be easy, but the thought of facing it with Jake by your side makes it seem possible. For the first time in weeks, you feel like you’re on the right path, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

The days following your night with Jake are a blend of professional decorum and personal confusion. You both agreed to take things one step at a time, but it's hard to ignore the magnetic pull between you. At work, Jake is as focused and brilliant as ever, but there’s an added layer of warmth in his interactions with you, a silent acknowledgment of what you share.

One afternoon, you find yourself in the break room, sipping coffee and going over department paperwork . Jake walks in, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, his tone casual but with an underlying hint of playfulness. "How’s your day going?"

You look up, trying to suppress a smile. "Busy as usual. Just finished a tricky valve replacement."

Jake nods, moving closer. "I heard. You did a great job."

You feel a flutter in your chest at his praise. "Thanks, Jake. How about you? Any groundbreaking surgeries today?"

He chuckles, leaning against the counter. "Just the usual brain stuff. Nothing too exciting." He pauses, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, dinner tonight? My place?"

You glance around to make sure no one is within earshot. "Are you asking me out, Dr. Sim?"

Jake’s grin widens. "Maybe I am, Dr. Y/L/N. What do you say?"

You pretend to ponder, then nod. "Alright. Dinner sounds good."

The evening arrives, and Jake picks you up from your house. He’s dressed casually but still looks incredibly handsome. The drive to his place is filled with light conversation and laughter, easing any lingering tension.

Once inside his apartment, you feel a sense of familiarity and comfort. Jake leads you to the living room, where he’s set up a cozy dinner with candles and soft music playing in the background.

"This looks amazing," you say, genuinely touched by the effort he’s put in.

Jake shrugs modestly. "I wanted to do something special."

The dinner is delicious, and the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about your families, past relationships, and the challenges of balancing demanding careers with personal lives. As the night progresses, you feel the barriers between you dissolving.

After dinner, you move to the couch, a glass of wine in hand. The atmosphere is relaxed, and there’s a growing sense of intimacy.

"Tell me more about your family," Jake says, his voice soft and curious.

You take a sip of wine, thinking about your parents and your brother. "Well, my parents are both retired now. My mom was a nurse, and my dad was a teacher. My older brother is a lawyer. We’re close, even if we don’t see each other often."

Jake listens intently, nodding. "Sounds like a solid family. Mine’s a bit scattered. Parents divorced when I was young, so I spent a lot of time between Australia and the States. I have a younger sister who’s an artist. She’s currently exploring Europe."

The conversation continues, each revelation bringing you closer. You talk about your past relationships, the heartbreaks and lessons learned. There’s a vulnerability in the exchange, a mutual understanding of the complexities of your lives.

As the night deepens, you find yourself leaning closer to Jake, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Y/N," he says softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I really care about you. I want this to work, despite the challenges."

You feel a rush of emotions, the sincerity in his words touching you deeply. "I care about you too, Jake. I want us to work."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. The kiss deepens, your bodies pressing closer together. The desire that has been simmering between you ignites, and you find yourself losing track of time as you explore the depths of your connection.

You found yourself crossing the room to stand in front of him, heart pounding in your chest. You'd reached out, hesitantly, and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. And when he'd looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, you knew that you couldn't resist any longer.

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate. He'd responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. And as you kissed, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins.

You pulled back, just enough to look into his eyes. "Jake," you whispered, voice husky with longing.

"Yeah, baby?" he'd replied, his voice low and rough.

And then you stripped, slowly and deliberately, letting him watch as you revealed her body to him. You’d seen the heat in his eyes as he'd taken in the sight of you, and you knew that you had him.

You moved closer, pressing your naked body against his clothed one. You reached down, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his hard cock, dropping to your knees, taking him into your mouth and sucking him deep.

He'd groaned, his hands tangling into your hair as you worked magic on him. “s-shit baby, taking me so good, that’s it” you sucked and licked and teased, driving him wild with pleasure. when you felt him on the brink, you pulled back, smiling up at him.

"Fuck me, Jake," you commanded, voice husky with desire.

He'd obeyed, lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, spreading your legs wide and burying his face between them. You cried out as he licked and sucked your clit, bringing you to the brink of orgasm.

And then he entered you, driving deep and hard. Your wrapped her legs around him, meeting him thrust for thrust as you made love. It had been passionate and intense, a connection that went beyond the physical and was different from the previous times you had indulged in each other’s bodies.

when you finally reached your peak, collapsing in a tangle of limbs, you knew that you made the right decision. You finally acted on your attraction, and in doing so, you found a deeper connection with Jake.

You both lie there, still engulfed in the bliss of this newfound feeling between the two of you. He can’t help what he says next, feeling as if keeping it in was impossible. “i love you Y/N”.

you snap your neck in his direction, maybe it’s the post orgasm haze but you search for reassurance anyways.

His big brown eyes confirming his words. “I love you too jake”.

The next morning, you wake up in Jake’s arms, the sunlight filtering through the curtains. He stirs beside you, his sleepy smile a welcome sight.

"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

"Good morning," you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

As you lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seems distant and unimportant. In this moment, you feel a sense of peace and certainty. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know you can face them together.

At the hospital, the dynamic between you and Jake shifts subtly but unmistakably. The stolen glances, the brief touches, the shared smiles—all are infused with a new depth of intimacy. Your colleagues notice, but no one comments, respecting the unspoken bond you share.

In the weeks that follow, the relationship deepens. You navigate the challenges of your demanding careers, finding solace and strength in each other. The on-call rooms become your private sanctuaries, the moments of stolen kisses and whispered confessions a lifeline in the chaos of the hospital.

One evening, after a particularly grueling shift, you find Jake waiting for you in the parking lot. His presence, as always, is a balm to your weary soul.

"Hey, pretty" he says, pulling you into a hug. "How was your day?"

"Tough," you admit, resting your head against his chest. "But it's better now."

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "Come on, let's go home."

As you drive back to his place, the city lights blurring into a comforting glow, you realize just how much Jake has come to mean to you. The fears and doubts that once plagued you have faded, replaced by a certainty that you can face anything as long as you're together.

Back at his apartment, you settle into a comfortable routine, cooking dinner together and sharing stories about your day. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and affectionate touches.

After dinner, you move to the couch, your bodies naturally gravitating towards each other. Jake pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on your hips as he looks into your eyes.

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I know we've had our challenges, but I want you to know that I'm all in. I want to be with you, no matter what."

Your heart swells with love and gratitude. "I feel the same way, Jake. I want us to be together, through everything."

He smiles, his eyes shining with affection. "Good. Because I can't imagine my life without you."

You lean in, capturing his lips in a slow, tender kiss. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.

As the night wears on, you find yourself reflecting on the journey you've been on together. From the initial tension and uncertainty to the deep, abiding love you now share, it's been a rollercoaster of emotions. But through it all, you've found something rare and precious: a connection that transcends the challenges of your demanding careers, a love that grows stronger with each passing day.

and as you fall asleep in Jake's arms, you know that whatever the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand.

taglist: @hyunjinheartbreakprince @jaehoonii @enhaslxt @sumzysworld @justalittle-hee @seunghancore @curiousgworge @blockbusterhee @ribbioniki @chocolate-scoups @ineedsomezzz @theonewithouttheuwus @rairaiblog @chansloverr @armycarat2612 @slutforjaeyun @lovingvoidgoatee @jjklvr9 @fertilizedtoesw @ikeuverse @yohanseyebrowmole @mysticalenchantress @hchoes @en-gine @jakesbbygirl @miszes @simpjay @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @vveebee

[taeyongdoyoung]

daddy's home

summary: boyfriendless, jobless and hopeless, you rush to take the first opportunity you find, which is a nanny position. but the kids are not the only ones you grow fond of... pairing: seungcheol x reader genre: fluff, smut, single dad x nanny AU warnings: kids (triggering, i know), age gap (unspecified), mentions of past cheating, abandonment issues, potential therapy, male masturbation, confessions, blowjob, kissing, eating out, protected sex (unbelievable), dirty talk, size kink, pet names (sweetheart, angel, darling, little girl), sir+daddy kink, unprotected sex (with baby-making goal), breeding kink, creampie, more kids (sorry im ovulating) author's note: this is loosely based on the sitcom the nanny in that there's a single dad with three kids but minus the dead wife trope cuz that's too depressing for my tastes word count: 4.3k

You are desperate. Your shitty boyfriend cheated on you, broke up with you and you also lost your job. So it’s been a couple of terrible weeks. Now, you would take pretty much any kind of job as long as it pays enough for you to afford food and the bills. ASAP.

Single dad looks for a live-in nanny for his three kids. Full-time with Sundays off. Contact this number for more details.

Okay, truth be told, you’ve never considered yourself as someone who is good with kids. But how hard can it be? Have you mentioned you’re desperate?

“Listen, Miss L/N,” Mr. Choi, your potential future employer starts. “I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’m not just going to hire you. I’m looking for someone with experience.”

“Well, I have a bunch of nephews, if they turned out alright under my care, then I guess that counts for something,” you chuckle.

“That’s very nice but I’m talking about professional experience. Have you been a nanny before?”

“Technically, no, but how can I get experience if you won’t hire me?”

“Touché,” Mr. Choi laughs.

“How about a trial period? Let me spend some time with your kids under your supervision and prove myself capable.”

Mr. Choi nods reluctantly.

“Well, you’re in luck since my little goblins have driven away five nannies in the past month.”

Oh, dear. Five nannies…And here you were thinking this could be an easy job.

“So, what’s one more?” you chuckle nervously and Mr. Choi shakes your hand, agreeing to give you a chance.

You are excited when meeting his kids. The eldest daughter - Chaerry is 15, very elegant and polite. You think that you’ll have no problems with her and you’ll have lots to talk about. The middle child and only son - Dino is 10, extremely mischievous and loud. You’ll definitely have problems. Finally, the youngest daughter, Elsie, is 5, she’s such a cutie but leaves a mess of her toys everywhere she goes. It’s easy to trip if you’re not careful, but nothing you can’t handle.

The trial period goes by in a flash. Dino attempts to get on your nerves by pulling pranks like hiding fake spiders in your bag and spraying your outfit with ketchup, but you accept all that with an easygoing laugh. Elsie constantly asks you to play with her toys and you need an unlimited source of ideas to keep up with her wild imagination, but it feels more like fun than a job. Chaerry is quiet and doesn’t share much at the beginning but eventually tells you about this boy at school she has a crush on. So, you count that as a success.

“I must admit, Miss L/N, I had some worries at first but seeing how quickly my kids accepted you is remarkable,” Mr. Choi shares his observations with you at the end of the trial period.

“So, am I hired, then?” you beam with excitement.

“Absolutely, yes. The kids have taken a liking to you and changing nannies so often is probably not great for them, either.”

“So true. Kids need stability and I would be happy to stick around for as long as you’ll have me, Mr. Choi,” you are thrilled not only because you will have a bed to sleep, food to eat and money to spend, but because you are genuinely looking forward to spending more time with these little munchkins.

And spend time with them you do. You're not sure what exactly it is that makes the kids warm up to you, but whatever the reason, it's working.

With Chaerry, you talk about boys and high school drama and make-up. On one occasion, she tells you something that sincerely touches you.

“Thank you for being my best friend, Y/N. I know I shouldn't keep stuff from my dad, but he can be so overprotective sometimes it's difficult to talk about...well, going on dates with boys, mostly.”

“Aww, Chae, you can tell me anything. It'll be our little secret,” you give her a wink, followed by a hug.

You're not exactly sure what the correct response here is. But you'll make sure to maintain some kind of balance - both look after her safety so that Mr. Choi sleeps peacefully at night and not betray Chaerry's trust in you.

With Dino, after the initial phase of silly pranks passes, you notice that he's become more honest and calm.

“You won't leave us like our mom and all the other nannies did, will you?” he asks you one afternoon as you're watching TV together.

You haven't asked Mr. Choi what exactly happened with these kids' mother because frankly, it's none of your business, but something is telling you they're a lot more hurt than they let on.

“I'm not going anywhere, Dino,” you promise, though really, it's up to Mr. Choi to decide that.

“Good. It would really suck if you left.”

That's a lot, coming from the kid who damaged like half of your wardrobe with all kinds of sauces.

With Elsie, another strange situation takes place due to the fact that the kid has no filter.

“Let's play family!”

“Um, okay,” you agree without thinking much.

“This will be daddy,” Elsie points at a stuffed lion plushie and then grabs a tiger plushie, “And this is you, mommy!”

“Oh, honey. I'm not your mommy,” you try to explain as gently as possible.

“But can you be? Daddy says our mommy left and has a new family somewhere else.”

Okay, that's a lot to unpack here. Though you don't think it is your place, you'll need to have a conversation with Mr. Choi, because the kids obviously have some kind of unresolved trauma...

One evening, after the kids have gone to sleep, instead of going to your room, you wait in the living room for your employer to come back from work, so you can approach the subject as delicately as you can.

“Good evening, Miss L/N. Kids go to bed?” he greets you as he takes off his coat.

“Evening, Mr. Choi. Yes, they did. I was wondering if we can have a chat. It can be a sensitive topic, I'm sure, but for the sake of the kids, I think it's important.”

Mr. Choi nods and takes a seat next to you on the couch.

“About their mother...”

“I was wondering how long it'd take you to bring that up,” he chuckles bitterly. “Other nannies wanted me to spill the tea on day one.”

“Wow, seriously?”

“It's not like it's this big secret, I just prefer not to talk about it unless absolutely necessary. My ex-wife...cheated on me and got pregnant by another man, so we had a divorce and I kept the kids, because she said she wants to start anew with this other guy, and...well, the kids said this is their home and that they won't move. So, I suppose the judge took that under consideration.”

“My God. I had no idea.”

“You couldn't have known, considering I just said I don't enjoy revisiting those painful memories.”

“Yes, of course, I only meant that...I guess it explains some things. Forgive me for saying this, but I think the kids have some kind of abandonment issues. Elsie and Dino, in particular, they seem to have a fear that I'll leave just like...well, their mom and the other nannies.”

“And are you? Leaving, I mean.”

“Not if I can help it. Mr. Choi, your kids are very vibrant and precious to me. I genuinely love my job. But I'm worried that what happened with your ex-wife affected them more than they show. Maybe you should look into therapy?”

“I will definitely take that into consideration. Thank you for your candour, Miss L/N.”

“You're most welcome.”

“What about Chaerry?”

“What about her?”

“You said that Elsie and Dino express these abandonment issues. Does Chaerry not have them?”

“She probably does, but at the moment she's too busy thinking about boys.”

“Boys? At her tender age? I don't think so,” Mr. Choi immediately goes into ultra alpha protective dad mode and you honestly find it kind of funny. And hot.

“Oh, relax, Mr. Choi. It's just typical high school drama. There's nothing to be worried about.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly.

“I'm counting on you. Does it ever occur to you how quickly they grow up?”

“I suppose it's more difficult for you. I've only known them for a few months but I think I get what you mean.”

“Yeah...How strange, it feels like you've been part of this family forever.”

You try not to think too deeply about it. He...considers you part of this family. Elsie called you mommy. Dino doesn't want you to leave. And Chaerry talks to you about boys. A topic, which girls usually discuss with their mothers. Oh, sweet heavens. Maybe, this nanny gig is becoming more than a job...

One Monday Mr. Choi texts you not to come to work this Saturday, as the kids will be spending some time with their grandparents (aka Mr. Choi's parents). However, the moment you receive the text, you're too busy trying to escape from Dino who is chasing you with a water gun in the garden. So, you somehow forget to put it down in your calendar.

Saturday arrives and poor Mr. Choi thinks you'd be in your own apartment. Finally, some peace and quiet. His parents picked up the kids early in the morning to go to the park with them so he's all alone and free to do as he pleases.

But alas, you go down the stairs of Mr. Choi's enormous house and make your way to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for the kids. However, it's too quiet. Hm, how strange. Maybe, they're not awake yet? You shrug as you pour some milk and cereal in a bowl.

Oh, you hear some noise from the living room. Is that the TV? Your curiosity gets the better of you and you enter it only to find Mr. Choi in a very compromising position. He is touching himself, watching very obscene things on the big screen!

You are on the verge of chastising your boss for doing something like that in the living room, where the kids could walk in any minute, when you remember. The kids...They're with their grandparents today. Which means that...Fuck, you're not supposed to be here. You should be at your own apartment instead of being witness to...your very sexy and very single employer taking care of his needs.

You are going to sneak back into the kitchen and wait for a more appropriate time to leave the house when you hear it. At first you think you're hallucinating but then you hear it twice. Your name.

“Y/N...please, let me-” Mr. Choi moans, his eyes closed, he is unaware of your presence.

However, he doesn't get to finish his sentence because you are so shocked that you drop the bowl of cereal, which shatters on the ground with a loud noise.

“Fuck, I'm so so sorry,” you murmur nervously as your boss finally notices you watching him.

His cheeks flushed, his lips pouting, he is the most adorable you've ever seen him. He hurries to tuck his cock back into his pants and turn off the TV.

“N-no, I'm sorry...Miss L/N, what are you doing here?”

Oh, so you're Miss L/N now...Very well, then.

“I apologize. It must have slipped my mind that the kids are with their grandparents today.”

“It must have,” Mr. Choi repeats coldly, obviously embarrassed by this situation.

You wonder if you should tell him what you heard. Would that be unprofessional? But then again, he is the one who said your name, so...what is professional anyway?

“Do you want me to leave?”

He sighs deeply.

“What's the point? You already saw me...fuck, I feel so humiliated.”

“Why would you feel humiliated? Am I so undesirable that my presence immediately turned you off?” you ask bluntly.

“That's not the case and you know it.”

“I'm not sure I know anything anymore,” you admit. “You...said my name. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“You were never meant to hear that,” Mr. Choi hides his face behind his hands, the redness refusing to leave his complexion.

“But I did. So, what now?”

“Please, don't quit. I realize that what I did is unforgivable but...the kids care about you so much, it would devastate them to lose you.”

“I wasn't even thinking of quitting. But...are the kids the only ones who care about me?” you need to know.

“No...As it so happens, I care about you.”

“So, stop hiding from me,” you don't know where that boldness comes from as you grab his wrists and remove his hands, so you can look at his face. Fuck, he's so pretty.

“You're not...grossed out by me?” Mr. Choi blinks at you in surprise.

“Kinda flattered, actually,” you confess. “But I'd like it much better if you let me take care of your frustrations.”

“You would?” he is unable to believe his luck when you drop on your knees in front of him and take him out of his pants again, engulfing his cock with your pretty mouth. “Y/N...”

The way he says your name is enough to make you even more enthusiastic, sucking him deeper and bobbing your head to the best of your abilities. He grips your hair tightly and you make sure not a drop is spilled as you swallow his cum down your throat. You wipe off your lips and sit down next to him, unsure of what to do next.

“Mr. Choi...”

“Call me Cheol, please.”

“Cheol...may I kiss you?”

Seungcheol doesn't respond and instead kisses you passionately, grabbing your face with his hands. His tongue is exploring your mouth in ways you'd never imagined could bring so much pleasure and you can't resist the urge to sit in his lap. Somehow, against all reason, he's hard again, as you grind against him. Fuck. He's so hot and sweet and amazing you just want to make him happy. How anyone could cheat on this fine man is beyond you.

“Um...not to assume or anything, but do you have a condom?” you ask sheepishly.

“I do, yes,” Seungcheol goes to his coat and brings a package.

“I mean, don't get me wrong, I love kids, but I think we should be responsible considering this is our first time together and you already have three of your own,” you're probably talking too much but oh well. Better safe than sorry.

“No, I understand. You're totally right.”

“Will you fuck me?” you inquire.

“Here? On the couch?” Seungcheol is in disbelief.

“Well...you were touching yourself here, but I guess it's whatever. Your home, after all.”

He chuckles, suddenly embarrassed again.

“Come on, let's go to my room.”

Seungcheol offers you his hand and you follow him upstairs excitedly. Is this really happening? Are you seriously going to do this with your boss?

He lifts your chin up because he notices you're not meeting his eyes out of nervousness.

“Look at me,” he commands you easily and you're on the verge of falling apart and he hasn't even undressed you yet. The power this man holds over you... “We don't have to do this if you're not ready.”

“It's not that. I do want this. It's just...I don't remember if I told you but I was also cheated on. A little before I came to work here. And like, I haven't been intimate for a while, so I'm nervous. What if I mess something up?”

“Okay, first of all, give me that asshole's address, I just wanna talk. And second of all...darling, I haven't been intimate since way before my divorce took place. Trust me, I'm a lot more nervous than you right now.”

You shake your head.

“Whatever you do, I'm sure I'll find it like super hot.”

Seungcheol laughs and tilts his head, kissing you again.

“You're so cute,” he whispers against your mouth. “I can't wait to ruin you.”

And just like that, it's as if a switch is flipped. He pushes you onto the bed and leans above you menacingly, a devilish smirk painting his pretty face. Seungcheol pushes your dress up hurriedly, touching you all over.

“You really thought you could get away with it, huh? Walking around my house in those dresses of yours looking so sexy? Tempting me?”

“N-no, s-sir,” you murmur, not knowing where the title is coming from.

“God, I'm such a cliché. An old man unable to resist the gorgeous young nanny...”

“You're not old, sir,” you try to reassure him. You're not sure if he's just engaging in dirty talk or is actually having some insecurities. He's still young in your eyes. Whatever the case, you're there for him.

“Don't lie to me, sweetheart. I'm too old for ya...I have three kids. What do you have, hm?” Seungcheol speaks while caressing your pussy through your panties.

“I have you, sir,” you smile and palm his dick teasingly.

He sighs wistfully and buries his head between your folds, licking and teasing until you're a soaking mess for him.

“S-sir, p-please...C-cheol, don't stop,” you cry out helplessly.

It feels so good, too good. He holds you down, hands gripping your thighs as you cum against his tongue. He barely gives you any time to recover as he rolls up a condom on his cock. You stare at him hungrily, impatient to have him inside of you.

Seungcheol is like the drug everyone warned you about. Once you have him, you won't be able to quit.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly in sharp contrast with his previous behaviour.

“Please take me, Cheol,” you would beg if you had to.

And take you he does, entering you deeply with his big cock.

“Fuck, you're so tight, barely fitting me in,” he speaks, stroking your clit in circular motions with his thumb, while he fucks you harshly.

“It's okay, I won't break, sir,” you try to convince him.

“What if I want you to break, little girl?” Seungcheol inquires, his voice half-joking, half-serious, as he.

“Then, I'd be happy to serve you, daddy,” the word slips from your lips before you could think twice about it.

“Daddy, huh? You need daddy to make you cum?” you are grateful he plays along instead of making fun of you in this very vulnerable moment.

“Yes, daddy, please, I'll do anything for you,” you promise in a daze.

“Cum for me, sweet girl, let daddy take care of you,” his deep voice is enough to bring you to the edge.

“Fuuuck, daddy...Cheol,” you mumble repeatedly, as white appears before your eyes.

You're shaking in his arms but it feels like flying.

“I've got you, angel, daddy's right here,” Seungcheol comforts you, as he rides out his own high, spilling inside the condom. Then, taking it off and throwing it in the garbage bin, he hurries back to you.

You make grabby hands at him and he envelops you in a hug.

“I'm here, sweetheart,” he kisses your forehead gently and you melt against his chest.

“Cheol...I think you just murdered me a little,” you laugh.

“Well, then, I better make sure I revive you, because I can't imagine my life without you.”

“Good. You ain't getting rid of me.”

“That sounds perfect because me and the kids would like you to stick around.”

“Oh God, the kids! What time are they coming back?”

“We've got time, don't worry, they should-”

“Daaaad, we're home!” you hear Dino's loud voice from downstairs.

“Fuck,” Cheol curses under his breath and the two of you hurry to make yourselves look somewhat presentable.

Once dressed and back in the living room, you can only hope that you're not too obvious about what went down. However, you can't stop yourself from glancing at Seungcheol and he's just as flustered as you.

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” Dino greets you as if it's completely normal for you to be there. As if you belong.

“How was your time with your grandparents?” you ask, trying to act casual.

“We had so much ice cream!” Elsie squeals excitedly.

“Grandma and Grandpa took us to the park,” Chaerry starts telling you about everything they did in great detail and you are glad that the shy girl you first met is becoming a confident young woman.

Elsie is asking for more ice cream but Seungcheol is explaining that it's lunch time. Dino is painting the table with mustard and honestly, that's so on brand for him...

It is funny where desperation brought you. You realize this is the happiest you've been in a while.

Later, when Seungcheol catches you alone after spending the afternoon with the kids, he asks:

“I know we kinda messed up the proper order of things, but...would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh! I'd love that, Cheol. Is it okay to still call you that?”

“Yeah, it's alright.”

“What about in front of the kids? I'm not sure to what point you'd like to mix professional with...personal life.”

“In front of the kids is okay, too,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, do you know what Elsie keeps asking me?”

“What?”

“When will you make Y/N my new mommy?”

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like something Elsie would say.”

“So, um, no pressure. But I think you're more than the nanny to me.”

“Well, I would certainly hope so. I didn't raise you, mister!”

Seungcheol can't miss the opportunity for a joke. He takes hold of your hand and places it on top of his...very hard dick.

“You raised him, though,” he whispers.

“Mr. Choi!” you hiss, scandalized. “I mean...Cheol.”

“Did you mean daddy?” Seungcheol teases you relentlessly.

“Stop it, you deviant!” you shake your head. “Fuck, you'll never let me live this down, will ya?”

“Do you kiss your boss with that mouth?” he smirks.

“Don't mind if I do,” you reply and bring your lips to his.

A year passes by quickly. You love every day of your life. Whether it'll be spending time with the kids, or going on fun dates with your boss turned boyfriend, or having mind-blowing sex with said specimen, you are truly happy with how things turned out for the best.

With one tiny thing missing.

“Cheol, can I ask you something?” you mumble one evening, as you are playing with his soft, fluffy hair.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Seungcheol turns towards you, giving you his fullest attention.

“Have you ever thought about having more kids?”

“Hmm, it hasn't crossed my mind. I already have three kids. But it depends. Is that something you're interested in?”

“Not till now. But if it's with you, I'd love to have a kid,” you confess shyly.

“Well, then, let's make you a mommy,” Seungcheol quickly makes it his mission and for the first time, doesn't use a condom.

“Yes, please, daddy, give me your cum,” you moan wantonly, as he fucks you deep.

“Take it like the good girl you are, I'll give you all I've got, fuck a baby in ya,” he grunts in your ear, sounding even more excited than you are.

“I love it, feel so full,” you whimper and can't stop kissing him. You can't believe this beautiful man is yours and wants to give you another present.

“That's right, sweetheart, I'll stuff you full of it,” he moans and releases himself inside you. Your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, as you reach your high.

Seungcheol gently pushes the cum that's spilling out of your pussy back inside and lifts your legs up.

“Do you think it'll stick?” you ask doubtfully.

“Can't hurt to try again until it does,” he shrugs, determined to succeed.

Nine months later, as you welcome the twins into the family, you realize you've never expected to achieve so much happiness.

“You really had to outdo yourself and give me not one but two babies,” you playfully push Seungcheol's shoulder.

“Is it too late now to say sorry?” he grins nervously.

“Don't be. I'm more than satisfied. But you'll have to give me a raise!”

“I'll give you something better than that,” Seungcheol promises and pulls a diamond ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my God,” you are in shock.

“Y/N...you've given me more than I could ever hope to deserve. You started off as a nanny but you became my three kids' best friend and now, the mother of two more angels. You became my closest person, my source of joy, my sweetheart. Knowing that I can come home to you is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Will you do me the absolute honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes, of course, yes!” you say through your tears and kiss him, as he slides the ring on your finger.

“Can I call you mommy now?” Elsie peeks her adorable head behind the door, followed by Dino and Chaerry, who are all excited by the good news.

“Congratulations, Y/N!” Chaerry greets you with a hug and whispers: “Thanks for taking one for the team and making our lonely old man. happy.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Seungcheol complains loudly.

Dino jumps on the back of his dad with a loud squeal.

“You better treat her right, Dad!” the boy warns. “Or I'll ketchup your room!”

“Why do I feel like I'm the one being welcomed into the family?” Seungcheol bemoans his fate but he's never smiled wider.

“You'll get used to it,” you joke. “Come on, guys, meet your new brother and sister.”

“Hii, babies!” Elsie and Dino jump excitedly around the twins.

“Oh, they're so cute! Aren't they so cute, Dad?” Chaerry coos at the babies.

“They are, but it's too early for you to think about how cute babies are. Look at me...I already have five. Isn't it tragic?” Seungcheol keeps messing around.

“It could have been twelve or something,” you play along.

“I can't imagine,” Seungcheol cries out indignantly. But deep down, maybe he can.

The End

[spicyspiders]

old man logan

wolverine x male reader smut

1.3k words

warning for highly dubious consent. the reader is home for their college summer break. logan is the mean old man living in the reader's neighborhood, and when one of the neighbor's kids loses a ball in his backyard, the reader retrieves it.

You come to the conclusion that Logan is a miserable old man after your first meeting with him.

Children can be annoying, you could understand, but with the way Logan spoke to them after accidentally throwing a ball into his yard, you didn’t like him too much. 

You weren’t sure if you like kids all that much, but you could empathize with them, especially when you saw them crying. 

“Hey,” you say to your neighbor. You were only outside to check your mail, so seeing a crying child on the doorstep next to your house caught you off guard. “What’s wrong?” 

You couldn’t remember the kid’s name, but who could blame you, summer break was your time away from college to relax with your brain off. His small face was full of tears when he lifted it up and his eyes were rimmed red. The boy’s lower lip trembled before he responded to you in a shaky voice. 

“I lost my ball in Mr. Howlett’s yard,” he sniffled. 

Mr. Howlett had moved in sometime during your first semester away at college, and he wasn’t exactly a welcoming presence when you had gotten home. He always looked so gruff and angry when you tried to speak with him, which left you to steal looks when he wasn’t looking. Though you didn’t like him, he was luckily nice to look at. 

You weren’t sure how old he was, but from the glances you stole, you assumed he was young enough to somehow retain the muscle mass he had. 

You couldn’t remember if it was him, or if it was another one of your neighbor’s, but this wasn’t the first time a toy had accidentally been thrown into his yard. In fact, it was why you disliked him. You thought that it might just have been the kids, but when you tried to get one of the toys back after seeing another child’s tearful face, Logan slammed the door in your face. 

“It’s okay,” you said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “we can get it back.”

”He won’t give it back,” he whined, his voice an octave higher and more tears came out. 

“Have you tried?” You asked, trying to ignore the anger welling up in your chest. You didn’t know how Logan could be so mean to a crying child. 

The boy ducked his face down to where you couldn’t see it, like he was trying to hide, “he’s mean,” he answered, his voice small. 

“I know he is,” you said quietly. It wasn’t the right thing to say, you should say something like: he’s not mean. He can just be grumpy, but you didn’t feel like being nice to him right now. “I’ll go get it.”

The boy’s head snapped up to look up at you with wide eyes, “really?” 

You smiled softly at the boy, “I’ll be right back,” you said before standing up. Instead of going to Logan’s you went back inside your house first to get the boy a tissue, “wipe you face,” you told the boy after handing him a few tissues, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

”Okay,” the boy said, flashing you a watery smile. He had a few teeth missing, the sight making your heart strings tug. It made you wonder just how Logan could get angry at a child with a smile like that. 

“What do you want, bub?” Logan asked after he opened his door.

Though you were angry, you couldn’t ignore how the man intimidated you. He was tall and broad, his muscular body filling up the entire door frame. He could split you in half if he wanted to, and not in a good way.  

“Can you give him his ball back?” Pointing over your shoulder with your thumb to the boy. 

Logan’s eyes flicked from your face to over your shoulder before returning, “he shouldn't have thrown it over there.”

“It’s not like he meant to throw it over there,” you said back.

”Did he tell you that, or was he too busy cryin’?” He asked, crossing his arms.

”Can you give him his ball back?” You repeated, your teeth gritted in anger.

Logan titled his head, “he shouldn’t have thrown it over there,” he repeated, just as you did. His arms fell to his sides before he stepped closer to you, his chest pressed to yours. Through the thin shirt of the tank top he wore, his chest ran hot like a furnace. 

Old man Logan is fucking bully. A bully with a big broad chest surrounded by muscular arms. He's a bully in his words and with his actions.

Old man Logan is a fucking bully when he brings you inside and he pushes you down onto your knees and pulls out his cock. “You want his ball back, college boy?” He asks as he strokes his cock to full-mast. Right in front of the door to his backyard.

Old man Logan is a fucking bully as he pushes the head past your lips and onto your tongue, “put yer fuckin’ hands down,” he commands when you try to keep his cock from going deeper. 

Old man Logan is a fucking bully, especially when he says, “pretty boy like you,” he says, groaning as he pushes his cock deeper, “I bet you’re popular all over campus,” he says over the sound of your gags on his thick cock. 

He finally lets you breathe, but only after he wraps a tight hand around the back of your neck and pulls you off his cock. You suck in grateful pulls of air that taste like the salt of Logan’s precum. You glare up at him as he traces the slick head of his cock along your swollen lips. his smug eyes locking with yours.

“Bet you’re popular with your professors, too,” Logan murmurs, as he pushes his cock back into your mouth, “they let you suck their cocks for good grades?” He questions, his sentence ending with a groan as your throat clenches around his cock. 

You roll your eyes even as they well with tears. It sounds like he’s projecting, but it’s not like you were able to ask him, with your mouth being full of cock and all.  

Old man Logan is a bully, especially after he goes too deep and you gag again, “probably not too high of grades,” he says to himself, but still loud enough for you to hear the jab at your cock sucking skills, “but good enough,” he says with a moan as his cock pulses along your tongue and he cums down your throat.

You try your best to swallow all that you can, but some of it dribbles past your lips and down your chin. 

“Clean yourself up and go get that ball,” Logan says, stepping away. The clink of his belt buckle echoes with him as he steps past you and into his kitchen. You hear the noise of a paper towel ripping and a faucet turning on and then off again as you swipe your arm across your mouth to collect the mess on your face. 

Your knees ache as you pull yourself up and walk to the door, but you ignore the burn and instead search for the ball. You find it quickly, but you also see other toys that other kids have thrown over. You don’t grab them though, and instead think of the cold shower waiting for you at home to get rid of the hard on tenting your pants.  

“You didn’t want to grab the others?” Logan asks once you’re back inside. You make sure not to watch as he tucks his soft cock back into his jeans and just hopes he ignores the bulge in your pants. “Or do you want another reason to come back over here?” He questions, his voice much closer. 

You walk briskly past the man, paying no attention to the heat of his eyes on you, “not gonna answer me, little brat?” Logan’s voice calls after you as you leave his house. 

You scrub a hand over your face, trying to make yourself presentable, but let out a sigh of relief when you see the boy has gone back inside. You place it on his doorstep and knock softly on the door before heading back inside your house. 

---

Part 2

[teamred]

after midnight

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x mutant!reader | smut | 1.8k

SUMMARY | logan hates that you never listen to him and you can't stand how he still treats you like a kid. but tonight's your chance to change each other's minds.

WARNINGS | smut, breastplay, oral s*x (male receiving), piv s*x, power dynamics

RATING | explicit

NOTES | this is more dialogue and tension than smut, but i hope y'all still enjoy!

The X-Mansion at night is eerily quiet, a peaceful respite compared to the bustling energy during the day with the swarm of students walking around. Despite the stillness, some nights, like tonight, make sleep hard to come by. 

You carefully tread down the stairs, through the halls, and towards the communal kitchen to grab a drink. 

With the flick of your hand, you open the fridge, its bright light illuminating you amidst the darkness, and glance at what’s available.

Times like these, you wish there was something stronger than soda available, but you settle on a bottle of ginger ale and levitate it towards your hand. You will the fridge to close behind you as you make your way to a high stool by the kitchen island.  

“Shouldn't be walkin’ around in that outfit, bub.” 

Startled, you whip your body around, clutching the bottle to your chest and holding your hand out, an instinctive fighting stance. You relax at the sight of him leaning against the doorframe. 

“Jesus Christ, Logan…” you exhale, shaking your head.

He turns on the low lights above the kitchen counters. His hair is tousled from sleep, and his usual scowl is plastered on his face.

Your eyes sweep over his sleep wear—a simple fitted white tee and grey sweats. Then you glance down at yourself—black booty shorts and a loose crop top. Sure, what you wear to bed is a little risqué, but it’s comfortable. 

“What are you—my dad?” you shoot back, sipping your drink and leaning against the counter.

Logan rolls his eyes, crossing the room to grab a Dr. Pepper from the fridge.

“You should put on a robe or somethin’,” he grumbles. “The kids could see you.” 

He reaches to untwist the cap, but you beat him to it, using your powers to unscrew it with a swish of your fingers. The cap clatters onto the island, a bit louder than you intended. 

“You know, kids aren’t exactly wandering around the mansion at 3AM,” you mutter.

He downs half the bottle in one go and you can’t help it, but you’re enticed by how his Adam’s apple bobs with each gulp. Your eyes sweep over him again, noticing how the shirt stretches perfectly over his body and the outline of his length underneath his sweats.

Logan may be an asshole, but at least he’s an attractive asshole.

When he finishes, he tilts the bottle towards you with a sneer. 

“Yeah? Look who's talking.”

In a flash, you swipe his drink into your hand and shove him against the edge of the counter. He stumbles, almost falling to the floor, and snarls a curse.  

Your nostrils flare as you close the distance between you, fists clenched. “When are you gonna take me seriously, Logan? I’m about to become a professor soon.”

He stands up straight, towering over you and matching your intensity.

He grits out, “When you finally start listenin’ to me.”

You scoff, the bitterness rising in your chest. “Oh, so that's what this is all about.” 

You shake your head, finding it all too familiar. Coincidentally, this was why you couldn’t sleep tonight. 

Logan jabs a finger towards you. “You never listen to a goddamn thing I say during training, always throwin’ yourself into the danger and I’m the one always pullin’ you out.” 

“It's just the Danger Room!” you whisper-shout back, not wanting to wake others. “And you do the same shit all the time, Mr. Hypocrite.”

“Because I can handle the risk."

“And what? I can't?” 

“Don't get cocky with me."

You step closer, merely inches away from his face, and raise a brow, meeting his glare with a defiant smirk. 

“What are you gonna do, Logan? Bend me over your knee and teach me a lesson?”

The words are meant to taunt, to push his buttons, but they come out with an edge you didn’t expect. 

Something daring.

Something that challenges Logan. 

His gaze darkens, and the room fills with a charged silence. His breathing turns heavy, his eyes fixed on you like he’s ready to pounce. 

“I just might.” 

The tension snaps. 

You’re unsure who moves first, but it doesn’t matter because you’re on each other, the kiss raw, messy, and all-consuming.

It’s a clash of hunger and fury. Lips crashing, teeth nearly clashing. His hands seize your bare thighs hard. Likewise, your nails dig into his muscled arms and shoulders. His groan turns into a guttural growl at the bite of your touch. 

Effortlessly, he hoists you up, and you wrap your legs around him before he sets you down onto the cold tiled countertop. His hand snakes its way up your shirt, calloused fingers finding your nipples, rolling and pinching them ruthlessly.

One gasp escapes you, then another as he thrusts his thigh between your legs; the friction is delicious against your aching core. 

“Tell me you'll listen to me,” he rasps the demand, his mouth now sucking and biting down your neck. 

Initially, you shake your head, but he twists your nipple hard, dragging a sharp moan from your throat.

“Yes,” you moan. 

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Logan,” you seethe, detesting how weak you are under his touch, but you can’t control yourself. 

He chuckles irritatingly, brushing your neck upwards with the tip of his nose, until he presses his mouth against your ear. “You gonna do as I say?”

You nod. A desperate whine escapes your lips as he presses his thigh harder into you. Your body’s inflamed, craving more than just this from him. 

“Then get on your knees,” he commands. “Show me what you got.”

As if under possession, you jump off the counter and fall to your knees as Logan switches spots with you. He drops his sweatpants towards his ankles and holds his cock in front of you, stroking it. 

You almost salivate at the sight. Not that you’ve ever imagined fucking Logan, but it’s unsurprising how long and thick it is. 

You start off with chaste kisses and darts of your tongue. A touch here and there to torment him. Minutes pass, and when he's had enough, he's about to say something until you suddenly take him in as much as you can.

You channel all your desire and frustration onto him in the form of crude pleasure to prove yourself.

Your tongue swirls. Licks up the precum leaking from his slit. Mouth sucks on his tip so hard, Logan's gripping your head roughly, groaning a plea for you to slow down. You disobey and relax your throat, allowing him to hit the back of your throat.

He practically has to rip you away to avoid an early end to all of this. His mouth is back on yours again with his drenched cock pressed up against your thigh.

Logan leads you to be on the counter once again. Impatiently, or perhaps it's laziness, his fingers deftly drag the fabric of your shorts and underwear towards one side to prepare for his entry.  

And he doesn't even ease into it, knowing how wet you are from just a whiff of the air.

He's not gentle, and you don't want him to be. You yearn for each deep thrust, letting his fullness fill you to the brim.

“Is this what you wanted?" he growls. "Me fucking some sense into you?” 

“If that’s what it takes to prove to you I’m not a fucking kid anymore, then—fuck—yes…” 

He answers every moan you make with a deeper plunge. However, the moans rise to cries. Logan puts a hand over your mouth, drowning them out.

In turn, the suppression of it only accelerates your climax and somehow draws out your powers. Utensils shake, along with the cupboards. 

“Sweetheart,” he warns with a low chuckle, still keeping a steady pace, “you’re gonna wake everybody up.”

“Don’t care,” you say, words muffled behind his hand. “Just keep fucking me. Don’t stop, don’t stop—” 

Everything shakes in unison with your body’s trembling. You whimper Logan’s name, eyes fluttering, until you come undone around his length. 

The kitchen slows its shaking as you come down from your high, and he pulls out, jolting his thick release onto your inner thigh with a sharp moan. 

Both of you are still, listening for any sign of footsteps or voices of anyone that is coming to investigate the noises. But the mansion is still quiet as a mouse, save for your rigorous panting and the hum of the fridge. 

Logan draws his pants back up and reaches for the paper towels. He holds them out in your direction, and, without ever touching it, you rip one off, wipe away the mess, and toss it into the garbage. 

Jumping off the counter, you adjust your clothes, but not much is needed since nothing ever came off. 

“So,” he says after catching his breath, reaching for his Dr. Pepper behind you. His body presses slightly against you, the warmth of his body radiating onto yours. “You gonna listen to me from now on?” 

“That depends.” You drag your ginger ale towards you with a tilt of your head. In sync, you chug your drinks. “Are you gonna treat me like an adult from now on?” 

“I’ll try, kid,” he says, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You shove him playfully at the label and he chuckles. “Sorry, it’s outta habit.” 

“But seriously,” he continues, his expression hardening into his usual tough one. “You know that I only say those things to look out for you.” 

That catches you off-guard. You search his eyes, revelling in the sincerity of his words. 

“I know, Logan,” you smile and nod. Leaning in, you kiss him tenderly on his cheek and begin to walk away. “Try to get some sleep.” 

When you’re about to leave, he calls out your name softly, causing you to turn around. 

“If you ever have another sleepless night, come find me.” He closes the distance and pins you down with an intense stare and a smug arch of his eyebrow. “I still have to properly teach you a lesson over my knee, y’know.” 

“Is that so?” you challenge. “Even after everything that happened tonight?” 

“Tonight was just a preview,” he whispers. He lifts his hand to palm your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. “I need to keep you in check so you won’t forget.”

You're drawn to him, wanting to close the gap with a kiss.

But you decide against it, not wanting to let him win this round.

“I’ll think about it."

Turning on your heel, you saunter away. His eyes track every move, every sway of your hips in those tight shorts, drinking in the sight of you until you disappear from view. 

Despite your tentativeness, Logan’s determined he’ll have another taste of you soon enough. 

[wttcsms]

triple trouble, atsumu miya

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1.6k synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons. content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy more in this collection!

The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of “Miya! Miya!” coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt — all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.

Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.

But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesn’t appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human. 

The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers he’s cradling in his arms. 

All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their father’s natural color) poke out from Atsumu’s hold, and the eighteen-month-olds’ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are. 

After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didn’t spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys weren’t going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumu’s neck. 

While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him. 

A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.

“Miya, wife put you on babysitting duty?” A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.

“Nah. It’s not babysittin’ if they’re your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.” A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd. 

After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackals’ setter’s arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. They’re all professionals — even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (“I respect Nakamura as a human bein’ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.”) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears. 

“Nakamura isn’t a very good player, is he, Akihiko?” No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and it’s hard to remember that he’s insulting another player in the league whenever he’s practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it. 

Akihiko, most likely due to his father’s influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him. 

“Write that down.” He says to the crowd. “Even my baby knows he’s shit at the game.” 

There’s a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumu’s neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumu’s reflexes kick in. You’ve made a joke once that you think Atsumu’s reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous “dad reflexes” all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)

“Ya gotta hang onto me, buddy.” Atsumu can’t even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyama’s, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu can’t help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two. 

Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts. 

Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsu’s mischievous little face. He’s the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most — meaning, he’s the cutest little nightmare there could ever be. 

“Whatcha doin’ under the table, Mitsu?” Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. He’s clapping his grubby hands together and cheering. 

“Dada found me!” 

“I did find ya, buddy.” Atsumu coos. “Now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap?” 

After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him. 

“I have enough time for one more question.” He tells the crowd.

“Are you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?” 

“I’m always happy to come home to [Name]. If there’s a professional league for motherhood, she’s going into the hall of fame. I don’t know how she handles these fools by herself all day.” 

Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly. 

“Home! Home!” His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumu’s received some serves with his face before, so it doesn’t really phase him. “Home! Mama!” 

“Well, you heard the man.” Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. “We gotta head home.”

You’re applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. It’s probably why you don’t anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and you’re smiling as you ask your husband, 

“Had a good day today?”

“We took ‘em in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasn’t even fair.” He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.

“I’m putting on moisturizer right now.”

“Great. My lips are dry.” He goes in for another kiss, and even though you’re giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. “Should I go for seconds, just for good measure?” He teases.

“Hmm, I guess so.” 

“Oh? What’s with the change? Realize how much you can’t live without my touch?” He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. He’s fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin. 

“Maybe.” You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. “You know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?” 

“Oh, yeah? Bet Nakamura’s pissed.” Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept. 

“No. There’s actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.” 

You like it when Atsumu is thinking. There’s an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him. 

“You seriously don’t know?” You’re laughing at him, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew he’d do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if that’s what it took. 

You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited. 

He’s burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it. 

“The comments are the best part, though, baby!” You haven’t been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoff’s very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], i’d pop out triplets for him too tf 😭🙏.  

As Atsumu’s hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. “So, when the twins are born, do you think you’ll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?” 

“I can carry all of ‘em and you onto that stage.” He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.

“Oh? If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?” 

“Have I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I don’t know what you’ve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.” He’s peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.

[prismuffin]

Can you please do something for Wally West with a partner who's part of the BatFamily?

I'm sure I can think of a few short headcanons to write, anyway I think- Honestly you being in the BatFam is probably the reason you met Wally in the first place. With him and Dick being such great friends, you two were bound to cross paths at some point. When Wally had first met you he immediately found you attractive but with you being Dicks sibling it was a little awkward to try flirting with you whenever Dick was around. It being awkward didn't necessarily stop him though he'd just wait until Dick was out of earshot or go and find you himself to chat with you. You and him clicked for sure and when you started dating you'd opted to keep it kind of secret since you were unsure of how your brothers and dad would react initially. Damian found you two making out in your room once and completely blackmailed you otherwise he'd tell everyone. It was annoying, but you agreed. He didn't seem to care that you were dating outside of that. Jason was the next person to find out and just congratulated you before jokingly trying to give you both the talk, laughing at how awkward you both got. He did actually threaten Wally to never break your heart though. Tim found out...well...you're actually not sure when he found out exactly but you were trying to get out of training early to go see "a friend" and he just went, "you mean your boyfriend Wally?" You were shocked but he just shrugged it off, saying he wasn't an idiot and could tell you two were sneaking around a lot so he just put two and two together. After finding out Tim knew, you just decided to let everyone know. It could be considered risky but at this point you felt like everyone should just know, plus Damian can't blackmail you anymore so there's that. You'd talked to Wally about it and he was down so one day after a mission with Wally and Dick you'd found a point where everyone was crowded around for the mission debriefing. After all the important stuff had been said you opted for making the announcement right then. Obviously most of your brothers weren't shocked but Dick was. He immediately went to punching Wally for dating his sibling out of nowhere, your dad seemed to approve as long as it didn't get in the way of your missions. Dick wondered why no one else found this extremely shocking and they all just said they knew already which just made Dick even angrier after finding out that he was among the last to know about the two of you. He doesn't always hate the thought of his best friend dating his sibling as long as you two aren't making out in front of him or anything. Overall, you and Wally being together only makes you two stronger on missions and your family seems to approve.

———

Directory

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi, could you please do a Dick Grayson x M!Reader x Wally West? If it's not a bother.

I feel like how close Dick and Wally are, whether it be in animated series or comics, they've always been really close. So I feel like if one of them got a partner, the other would still be around at every turn.

So maybe Dick and Reader are dating, have been for awhile, and they have no problem with Wally thrid wheeling on dates or hanging around their apartment with them. Even, joining in on cuddling with them. But, after awhile Wally gets romantic and sexual feelings for both of them.

TLTR:

Dick and Reader are dating, Wally starts off as the forever 3rd wheel. Then it becomes a polyamory relationship.

If you don't want to because of the ship, then it's okay. You can just have tumblr eat this request.

- Crow

Dick Grayson x Wally West x Male Reader

Headcanons

Birdflash is one of my fave ships, so I was happy to write this. Reader is Hal Jordans sidekick, so lantern reader.

Dick and Wally had been friends longer than you had known the two of them, as they were two of the original sidekicks at the time. But when Hal showed up to the league with you, the youngest lantern in history by his side, you three quickly became close.

It started out as the three of you being similar aged, back when Dick was still Robin and Wally had just started out. Because you three became friends it also wasn’t unusual for you to stay with the bats or the speedsters when Hal had to go off planet on missions you weren’t allowed because of your age.

The experience that made you a lantern was very tough for you as you were still very young at the time, which lead to Dick and Wally being people you could lean on when things got tough, or you got nightmares.

The three of you started cuddling because you all had nightmares or night terrors to some degree, and you all found comfort in one another. It became a system for your guardians to text each other if they couldn’t find you in your rooms, because 99% of time, you were having a sudden sleepover at someone’s place.

Its also around that time you three all start having a crush on each other, of course none of you have any idea the other two feel the same way, and your guardians are all quite entertained by the obvious puppy crushes you guys have on each other.

I could very much imagine Hal teasing you using Dick and Wally during training to break your focus and weaken your structures.

At one point you have to leave earth for a longer mission with the lanterns, meaning you’ll be gone for a few years. Both Dick and Wally are heartbroken, but you guys all promise to stay friends when you get back.

When you come back years later Dick has become Nightwing, and you learned he had and lost a little brother, and that there is a third Robin now. Both of your best friends greet you when you land, and to your surprise Dick grabs onto you and kisses you.

Of course, Wally is heartbroken that he lost his chance with both of you but seeing you two happily dating also makes him happy, plus he doesn’t feel like he’s neglected or forgotten in the friendship.

Your friendship feels like before, though all three of you have grown into men and have all become much more skilled heroes. You still have sleepovers, and cuddle and hold each other. There’s no jealously from Dick or you if either of you are snuggled with Wally, or wearing Wally’s clothes of Wally wearing yours.

Some of your other friends definitely joke that the three of you are in a relationship together and that its not just you and Dick. Wally happily accepts the chronic third wheel disease, though he still yearns for the two of you, and you two feel the same way about the speedster.

You three are always connected at the hip, and if one of you aren’t there, people tend to question what’s wrong, since seeing you three without one of your members is like seeing someone with a missing limb.

Your guardians and friends can all tell the three of you like each other equally, but they also know it isn’t their place to force it, but some of them will drop hints.

More time passes and you and Dick have dated for years, Dicks family has gotten a lot bigger, and you have met Damian, who begrudgingly puts up with you because of how skilled of a fighter you are.

The feelings between all three of you have never dulled, and have probably only gotten stronger or more serious. The three of you act like a married couple, though Wally is still just a third wheel.

Knowing these two it would probably be after almost losing one of you that the confession happens, maybe you and Dick both got really hurt, so Wally has to get you to safety, where he would ramble in a panic about how he can’t lose you two since he loves you both so much.

It would need some clarification what he means by love, since you three tend to be very open with affection to each other, but when he confesses, he’s always been in love with the two of you, he expects backlash.

Instead, he gets relieved sighs from both you and Dick, and before Wally can ask about it, you both take turns kissing him.

After that your relationship becomes official, and no one really notices the difference since you three have always been close and affectionate to one another. Its only when they catch the three of you kissing that it all clicks.

There’s definitely some of your teammates and friends who just roll their eyes and go “fucking finally.” And your guardians just nod and smile and say they have been waiting for this day for years.

Not much about your guy’s relationship really changes since there’s always been a lot of love and communication, so the only difference if you can kiss now and do a lot more personal things.

You most likely already lived together with Dick, so Wally moves in easily since he probably already lived there half the time. So, its very easy, and you guys are just happy you don’t have to keep your crushes hidden anymore.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Annoying Customer

Wally West x M!Reader

Warnings: Crack, swearing, platonic relationship (but it could be romantic if you want🤷‍♂️)

Summary: The same guy always pulls up to the reader’s work place, order’s the same thing, and says the same thing each time he pulls, to the point where the reader immediately knows who it’s is, and his name was Wally West

A/n: This is also based off of something I found off of TikTok😭

F/f/n: Fast Food Name

Summary: “YES. YES. YES. A DOUBLE WESTERN BACON CHEESEBURGER WITH EXTRA BBQ SAUCE WITH THREE TENDERS, TWO RANCH, AND TWO BBQ SAUCES, WHY ARE YOU PLAYING WITH ME WALLACE RUDOLPH WEST”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Welcome to f/f/n how may I help you” you asked.

“YERRR” the customer yelled out.

You immediately knew who this was, Wally fucking West. He always came to the same place, same time, said the same thing, and ordered the same thing every single day.

“Oh my gosh..” you sighed.

“It’s gonna be 12.78” you stated.

“Wait what happened” Wally said confusingly.

“12.78” you replied.

“I didn’t even order yet” Wally said.

“12.78 pull. To. The. Window” you said, making sure to punctuate out each and every word.

“Well- um! Lemme get uh- a double western bacon chee-”

“YES. YES. YES. A DOUBLE WESTERN BACON CHEESEBURGER WITH EXTRA BBQ SAUCE WITH THREE TENDERS, TWO RANCH, AND TWO BBQ SAUCES, WHY ARE YOU PLAYING WITH ME WALLACE RUDOLPH WEST” you screamed.

“Well damn baby, how did you know it was me?” Wally asked.

“YOU’RE THE ONLY CUSTOMER IN MY DRIVE THRU SAYING “YERR” AT 2:55PM AND I CAN SMELL YOUR CHEAP ASS COLOGNE” you shouted.

Wally started cracking up a bit, but then he got a bright idea.

“I’m sorry, you need a raise, but yeah, let me get that and uh… and a chocolate shake! Yeah! Let me get a chocolate shake! Did you know I wanted a chocolate shake since you know everything? And add a-”

“WALLACE IF YOU DON’T PULL YOUR ASS AND STOP PLAYING WITH ME! I JUST CLOCKED IN! AND YOU’RE LACTOSE INTOLERANT! YOU DON’T DRINK MILK YOU DUMB ASS! FUCK! 12.78 PULL. UP. TO. THE. WINDOW” you yelled.

Bonus:

Wally had secretly recorded the whole thing and showed Dick while laughing his ass off.

“Was that really necessary Wally? That guy seems stressed out, and how does he know that you’re lactose intolerant?” Dick asked.

“Don’t worry about that! Just watch the video! It gets better!” Wally laughed.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Denial || Men Like Me

Part 2 of the Men Like Me series. Part 1

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girthy age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), masturbation (male & female), cis fem reader, descriptions of reader's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, Joel ignores you until he can't, slightly insecure reader, very insecure Joel, corruption kink, mild fem!dom, reader turns the tables a little, name calling, fetishization of virginity, face fucking (not the mouth, but cheek), kneeling, stripping, moneyshot, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 10.4k Summary: After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. A/N: The reception that chapter 1 got gave me enough serotonin to keep me going, you guys. I hope everyone likes this chapter at least half as much if not as much as the first one. Even the half would give me a lot of joy. And do say hi in my inbox or my asks. I would loooove to talk about these two. As always, pleaaaaaase give me reblog and/or a comment to recharge my writing batteries. Most importantly, a big thanks to @tobuildahomeinthewoods because the smut part was from their idea in the last chapter's comments .

“Long day, huh?” 

“What?” you asked, your brain taking a second too long to process the words. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you said, going back to your glass of whiskey. 

“I heard about the kids. They gotta be more careful,” Tommy said, looking to his brother for some kind of confirmation. Joel nodded hesitantly, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he traced the rim of his glass with his middle finger. So cavalier like he didn’t fuck you with that very finger. Asshole. 

“Yeah, yeah. Climbing trees is not wise,” you agreed, willing yourself to look away from his brother. You didn’t want to get caught staring, or worse glaring. The chatter of the dinner crowd at the Tipsy Bison drowned into the sound of you tapping your fingers on the wood counter of the bar. You got up abruptly, the bar stool going down from the force of your actions. You bent over to pick it up, a hand moving to your chest instinctively to keep from flashing everyone. With no such protection for your ass, you could feel familiar eyes on them. Eyes that you’d become accustomed to having on you no matter the distance. 

“You ok–” Tommy began, but you cut him off.

“You have a good one, Tommy,” you said, grabbing your bag from the bar counter and slinging it over your shoulder. “I gotta go. I’m really tired.” 

Like the fool that you were, you picked your glass up and downed the rest of the whiskey, your throat rejecting the choice with a cough that had you spit out half of the burning liquor. Great. Now you’d have to wash your scrubs before going to bed so it didn’t stain. Fucking great. 

There were some protests from the younger Miller brother, some words of concern. But you ignored him as you hurried out of the Tipsy Bison and into the night. At least one of the Millers had some manners. And it wasn’t the one that broke into your house and showed you what a clitoris was. It was fucking embarrassing that he was ignoring you after that. Even more embarrassing that you had to learn it from a random guy when you were the one poring over anatomy textbooks trying to become a doctor. You should know anatomy better than anyone else. Your mentor should’ve taught you. You’d learned how to conduct a safe childbirth. Even been allowed to close up the last c-section patient. But you didn’t fucking learn how the baby got in there. 

Alright well, you did. But you hadn’t been told about some of the especially sensitive parts of the body that would be involved in the process. 

You tossed your bag on your couch, got yourself some cookies that you traded for last week and climbed up the stairs to your bedroom. It wasn’t a nutritious dinner, but it filled your tummy. It came in handy when you didn’t want to spend time chopping vegetables and boiling pasta or whatever the hell you had to do to cook. 

Your bedroom had become your prison in the last two weeks. You felt trapped, unable to see beyond it. How could you, when it ironically was right here that you found freedom? 

Even as you did something as mundane as eating cookies on bed and spilled crumbs on your sheets like a child, the chair in front of your dressing table was in sight. From where you sat, you could see very clearly the scratch on the black paint that revealed the light wood underneath. Evidence of how you had to hold on to dear life as Joel worked your pussy expertly. Like he knew it as well as he knew the tools of his trade. Like weaving his fingers between your folds was as familiar to him as it was for you to weave through skin with your suture needle and thread.

You felt yourself dripping at the mere memory of his thick fingers pumping away inside you, unraveling the fibers of your being. The sight of him at the bar– his finger tracing the rim of the glass– it took you to the memory of that very finger teasing your pussy.

The pornographic magazines, the entertainment for men, no longer saw the light of day from their box under your bed. Pictures of nude women you wanted to model yourself after in order to be attractive to men no longer sufficed. All you strived for now was to be attractive to him. To be strung like a puppet in his hands while all he seemed to want was to get away from any place where you were. 

You felt a pang in your chest as you recalled the first time you went to the house of worship after your time with Joel to find that he’d been replaced with the younger Miller. Tears stung in your eyes as you felt rejected by his absence. Like he no longer wanted to be in the same room as you, hammer nails into wood as you spoke to your fellow townspeople about their wellbeing. You told yourself it was just a temporary thing. That the brothers just liked to alternate shifts and he would return soon to fix the windows that shattered during a storm in the winter. 

He never came. 

You’d never experienced such rejection before. You’d never wanted before. To want was to risk rejection, to feel the pit in your stomach as you felt now. You never wanted to feel less than, undesirable, unwanted. So you pulled away from all the men you dated. If you could even call that dating. Maybe it was your own fault for thinking it would be easier with Joel. What did you think? That he would fold immediately because you showed off your legs and touched his arm and pushed your breasts out to present your femininity? 

Naive, stupid girl. 

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 

Something twisted in your belly and you lied down, pulling your covers over you as though it would contain the shame coursing through you. 

You probably looked silly to him, like a little girl playing adult. Like a kitten picking a fight with a lion. Less than half his age, just a fucking preschooler on outbreak day when he would’ve been a fully grown man. Maybe already beginning to gray, the skin by his eyes crinkled from the years he spent smiling at and wooing women. Why would he want a girl? He’d want a real woman. Someone like Tommy’s wife, perhaps. Someone he wouldn’t have to teach.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man?” his taunt rang cold in your ear, sending chills down your spine like he was still behind you, fingers buried deep inside the most intimate part of you. You pressed your thighs together, heat pooling between them as it always happened when you thought of what he did to you. 

Shame didn’t deter you as you brought your fingers to your pussy, brushing one against your clit with curiosity. With fear. It felt so good, like its sole purpose went beyond the animal need to survive and propagate. You bypassed it to touch your weeping slit, more comfortable with what you were already used to for carnal pleasure.

Your own fingers had always been enough. Out in the wilderness when you needed to release pent up energy. After long days at the clinic and sharing notes with the other students. When you were tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep. Your fingers always took you to where you needed. You were always satisfied.  

Not anymore. 

You whined as the different angles you tried failed to work. The physical pleasure was the same. But not quite like how it felt with him. His hand was larger, his fingers longer and thicker. He showed you sports inside you that you’d never been able to touch yourself. Maybe this was what people meant when they said ignorance was bliss. Knowledge of pleasure you could have but couldn’t give yourself was torture.

As much as you resented Joel now, you couldn’t help but conjure images of him as you brought yourself closer to release. His deep brown eyes, his large hand that he wrapped around your throat, the way he carried you from your chair and deposited you on your bed. Like a human being weighed nothing to him. Like you were his toy that he could bury his fingers in, play with and set aside when he was done, when he was bored. Entertainment for Men came to your mind again and you cried like you never had at your own touch. 

Your thighs trembled as you imagined yourself as one of those women in the magazines, but only for him. Entertainment for Joel. Splayed out on the center page for him to look at and fuck his hand to. You wouldn’t mind being tangible entertainment. Laid out on his bed, limbs arranged in an attractive manner for him, so he could access whatever part of your body he wanted to play with. To be bent to his will and fucked, to be used, given an affectionate pat on your pussy and put away when you’d outlasted his needs only to be given attention when he wanted to get off the next time. 

You shook uncontrollably, your eyes squeezed shut and the world went blank as you reached your peak. You pulled your spare pillow to your chest, needing some physical comfort after experiencing such a high. You wished it were him instead of an inanimate object. That he would make you feel good and hold you and kiss you all over. That he would stay when you woke up the next day and do it all over again. 

Once the haze of your orgasm cleared up, you cringed at the feelings it had brought out of you. How stupid… Wanting a man who broke in, fucked you with his fingers, and began ignoring you like you did something horrible to him. Fuck Joel Miller and fucking his stupid fucking face. As he said, there were other men in the town. Men who wouldn’t ignore you.

⌘

“How are the windows lookin’?” 

“Fixed ‘em up in time for the cold winds. No thanks to you, fuckin’ asshole.” 

“Sorry. Y’know I ain’t the church going type.” It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t the church kind before Sarah died and he certainly wasn’t anymore. That the young aspiring doctor he fingered in her bedroom was the real reason behind him swapping work would remain his secret.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy grumbled, playing with the now cold fries on his plate. “It ain’t a church, by the way. Maria keeps correctin’ me. It’s the house of worship.” 

Joel rolled his eyes at that. He got the reasoning behind it. The town had people who believed in different Gods and had different religions. Calling the place a Church would be as unfair as calling it a– whatever, he didn’t know any other kind of place for worship. But it still pissed him off when his little brother came to him and went on about something his wife said.

Go off and do whatever your wife tells you, motherfucker.

No matter how he tried, the snide voice in his head that hated Maria never went away. He never said anything to her or Tommy. Maria was decent to him too, unlike the time he first arrived with Ellie. She trusted him with Miles. Invited him and Ellie over to family dinners. But they kept their interactions to a minimum, as though there’d been a silent agreement that it was best they kept it civil so as to not sow discord in the family. 

“Whatever. No point in worshiping, be it Jesus or whatever stuff they got goin’ these days.”

A shudder went down his spine, triggered by the talk of religion. As it became colder, Ellie had begun to revert to the empty shell of a child she was after the events in Colorado. There’d been grifters in the past hiding behind religion to cheat people out of their money, to damage children irreparably while preaching the word of God. The end of the fucking world somehow didn’t stop them from going on. Didn’t stop people from believing that an all-knowing, all-powerful guy in the sky was still watching and would protect them. 

If what protected people was God, guns were God. And Molotov cocktails. Sharp rocks and shoelaces.

Ellie didn’t tell him much, but from what he could piece together, it was a religious group with one guy leading them. And they were fuckin’ cannibals. Sounded like a goddamn cult.

“It’s a nice place to meet people,” said Tommy, snapping him out of his descent into the void of the recent past. 

Joel simply snorted and took a sip of his glass of water. He couldn’t handle his alcohol like he used to. Age and that he had been off his usual cocktail of oxy and whiskey for a long time now. He had to resort to having a lot of water to sober himself up after the occasional evening drinks with Tommy. 

“What? It is! I go there, catch up with everyone in town. Usually people go there when they’re going through some shit. It makes them feel conscious if you visit their house. So I just run into ‘em at the Chu– house of worship– and I just talk to them about their lives ‘n see if there’s anything I can do for them.” 

“Guess you’re right,” he said, slotting his thumbnail in the ridges on the bar counter absentmindedly, scraping off bits of the old softening wood. 

He could go again. Only so many days he could ignore you. But the reminder of the shame coursing through his veins when he saw you this evening made him shake the thoughts off. There was no way he could be anywhere you were without shriveling up and dying of embarrassment. 

You were so young.

Relatively unblemished by the world. A fuckin’ virgin. Never known the touch of a man and moaning his name as you touched yourself. 

Nope, nope, nope. Shouldn't have gone there, he thought as he felt himself hardening in his pants. Shouldn’t his dick be non-functional by now? He was dangerously close to sixty and spent a good two decades without adequate nutrition. Shouldn’t that be enough to turn his dick limp forever?

“Come over tomorrow, then. We’re doin’ a little memorial thing in the back of the house of worship. That young doctor’s idea, actually. She put the idea forward at the last council meeting. Thinks it’ll help people to have something physical to remember their people by.” 

Young, sweet, and so fucking thoughtful. 

Not meant for men like him.

Yet he went the next day. 

The topic of Sarah hung in the air around him and Tommy like a fog beyond which they couldn’t see. It sat heavy in his chest, the memory of his baby and worse, everything his shit brain had forgotten. He remembered that she gave him shit, mocked him over everything. But she didn’t have a voice in his head anymore. He could describe the sweetness of her voice, but it no longer sounded out in his mind. No matter how hard he tried. 

Her favorite color was purple and she loved soccer. He couldn’t recall the name of her team. She loved reading. He didn’t remember her favorite author. She liked animated movies. He couldn’t remember a single one. Just the vague memory of her falling asleep on his lap as cartoon characters chirped away on tv. Even her face was beginning to blur. When he recalled her features, it was only through images of the last seconds of her life.

“We could just do alphabetical order. Simple.” 

“Not really,” you said, scribbling lines on the paper. “We get new people in the town sometimes and we don’t want the names they add to stand out, away from the alphabetically ordered list. Might make them feel bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What about age?” Tommy suggested. 

“Still the same problem. It would force newcomers to have their own separate list at the bottom.” 

“How about a first come first serve system? We tell people when we’re taking names down for the memorial and they can come over, form a queue and give us the names they want included. That way, people can keep the names of the people they love in one spot on the memorial instead of having it scattered all over because of age or alphabetical order.” 

“What do you think, Joel?” Tommy asked, making him fold his arms over his chest and sigh. He didn’t give a shit. But that wasn’t the most amicale thing to say when someone was trying to do an objectively good deed. Unlike the other people in this town, he didn’t deserve to add the names of his people to a memorial. He failed in protecting them. He didn’t deserve to mourn like he wasn’t the reason they went into early graves. 

“Yeah, ‘s good. I agree.” He said, finding no faults with your proposal to order the names of the deceased by the order in which people gave it to ‘em. He didn’t know why he was being asked all this. It wasn’t like he was on the council like them. He was just takin’ measurements when he got dragged into this. 

“How many names do you think we’ll get?” Tommy asked him in yet another attempt to get him involved. 

Taking pity on his brother, he began a rough estimate of the number of names they’d get for the memorial and how much surface area they’d need for carving them in. “Six hundred people in town. Babies don’t have names to give. Kids wouldn’t have too many and if they had any, it would be on their parents’ list too. How many kids in this town?”

It was a fucking nightmare, sitting there at the table with you and doing calculations when all he wanted was to throw you over his shoulder and take you back to his place. Make you pose like you were posing in front of your mirror that day. Like women in those porno magazines he sneaked into his teenage bedroom and jerked off to. The fuck were you even thinking? Door left open, tits out, fingers in your cunt and his fucking name on your lips. 

Did you notice him at your door and decided it would be a fun trick to play on an old man? Or did you always scream his name when you fucked yourself? When was the first time? Did you always come so prettily on your own fingers like you came on his? Being in the dark drove him crazy. But part of him felt that getting the answers would drive him absolutely fucking insane. 

The thought alone was enough to make him feel uncomfortable in his pants. He adjusted himself on his seat and looked away from you, afraid that somehow you’d be able to tell that he was having improper thoughts about you when you were talking about honoring the dead. If thinking about you sexually in a church was bad, he was sure it was worse to think it when you were trying to help people memorialize their dead.

You had an air of innocence about you. The brightness of your eyes and the way you moved your hands about as you planned the details of this memorial and scribbled them out on your little notebook. He’d been attracted to that innocence from the very start. A rare thing to find out in the world. When even babies were born into violence and oppression, innocence was a luxury no one even thought to acquire. 

A virgin, too. 

His cock twitched in his pants. He gulped and looked around to check if anyone had caught his shameless response. Nope. 

He was surprised you were a virgin. For all your innocence, you were also fucking beautiful. There were plenty of guys in town. Ladies too, if you liked that. Anyone would’ve snatched you up quick and made sure to show you a world of pleasure. It didn’t take him long knowing you to give in to temptation. It was fucking impossible that no man had worshipped with his head between your thighs. That no man who saw you in your pretty little dresses bent you over and filled you up with his cock.

You were beautiful. Even more so when you came on his fingers. Made all those pretty little sounds. The way you said his name… Nobody had said it like that in such a long time. Not even Tess. 

It rang in his head whenever he found himself alone at home. Being in possession of your panties didn’t help matters. White cotton. Innocent. Covered in your dried up release. When he left that day, he made sure to suck on his fingers. Moaned like a fucking creep while going down your stairs. Eyes closed, he could still taste you on his tongue. After so many days. A little tangy with a hint of salt from your sweat and all woman. 

It had been embarrassingly long since he felt like a man. He’d been father, brother, smuggler, and father again. But long since he was just man. Never someone desirable. Out there, sex was just for release. Purely biological. The end of the fucking world did not afford good hygiene. You fucked someone because they were the safest option. Not because you were attracted to them.

You, however… You had others in this town. You were here before him. Younger, smarter, with a body that worked perfectly fucking well. You could have anyone but it was his name you were moaning out in the privacy of your room. 

He grunted as your voice crept back into his mind. The ‘Joel, please’, and the ‘Sir’. 

He grabbed on to the railing as his thighs trembled, afraid he would have an embarrassing fall. His breaths grew quicker and his mind void of everything but you. 

On your knees. On your back. On your front so he could fuck you from behind. Your hand around his cock. Your lips stretched out around him as you struggled with his size. Fistful of your hair as you begged for release. Please, Sir. Please, Joel.  The heat of your tight velvety cunt. Tears blurring your wide eyed innocence as he stretched out your rear hole. He wanted to take you everywhere, leave you burning with him. Mark you so deep every man you let in after you would know who fucked you first.

It didn't take long. The mental images of you were far too effective. His last time was too long ago. He was too old to last. Too old to want you. Somehow the reminder only pushed him further along. Sticky white cum coated your panties, mixing your scent with his. The mirror showed him a reflection of himself. Old, gray, crow’s feet by his eyes. He dropped your panties in the hamper, the warmth of his own release on his hand and the shame on his face sobering him up quickly. 

He wanted to teach you sin. But you had taught him more of it already than you would ever know.

⌘

“Cool jacket, dude!” 

“Uh…thanks. I traded for it years ago” you said, digging your thumb nail between the teeth of the zipper. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it worked well on cold nights that weren’t cold enough to warrant a sweater. “Is Joel in? I need to talk to him about a building project.”

“Yeah,” said Ellie before pressing her lips into a thin line. “I mean, he was awake half an hour ago when I left, but he could be in dreamland by now. Cause he’s old.” 

“Ah. Of course,” you said, smiling awkwardly at the girl. Joel’s kind of, sort of daughter. You were closer to her than Joel in age. You rolled the memorial plan tighter and tighter, your hands needing to be occupied with something as your mind reeled at the inappropriateness of your desires.

“I’ll make sure I don’t wake him up,” you said before leaving the girl to return to her group of friends. 

He was old enough to be your father. It should disgust you, scare you. Maybe it would’ve if you’d had an actual father in your life. A point of reference to know how vile a man of that age would have to be to want a girl your age. You tried to force some disgust into your veins, hoping that would help in putting out the fire in you that threatened to consume you whole. But it was hard to convince yourself that this was wrong when he’d made you feel so good. 

Your fingers had become inadequate overnight. If his fingers were so powerful over you… You shuddered to think what he could do for you with his penis. It had to feel better. The organ was made for it, unlike fingers.

You stopped outside his door and knocked without giving it a single thought. If you’d thought about it, you would’ve fled. It had already taken you hours to muster up the courage to make the walk to his house with the draft sketches for the memorial. You wouldn’t let your desperation ruin it. 

He looked surprised to see you, mouth opening and closing as though he’d forgotten how to process language. His dark brown curls and the silver that decorated it sat messily atop his head. Like he’d run his fingers through it. An old t-shirt stretched over his chest and struggled against his arms. A pair of dark sweatpants sat on his hips, the drawstrings hanging in the front. 

“Hey? Uh…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing a hand up to his face and scratching his beard. Why was that hot? You had to be out of your fucking mind.

You cleared your throat and looked up into his eyes. “Does something have to be wrong?”

“You’ve never come here, so I thought…” 

“I’m here about the memorial plans. I have a few designs I want to run by you,” you said, holding up the rolled up sheets of paper.

“Ah. That. Sure, uh come in,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to allow you passage. You looked around his house, careful to seem disinterested so he didn’t have more reasons to think you were a stupid little girl pining after him just because he made you come once. 

Shit. He probably already thought that. 

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me.”

You swallowed at the reminder as he led you to the dining table and offered you a seat. You looked around while he cleared the table. Plates, tools, some worn out novels. So he was the messy sort. You didn’t know who you would be if you’d had the chance to just be. You didn’t know if you would leave things lying around like that if you’d had a normal start to life. Like Joel. Like the others who were old enough to remember life before the cordyceps.

The place didn’t scream Joel Miller. There were no personal artifacts decorating his living room. No framed art. No books. No throw pillows or even a blanket on the couch. 

You knew what it was like to have nothing in your house. When you were still new to the town and it hadn’t hit you yet that you were allowed to have your own things. Collect stuff and not worry about having too many things to carry with you when you had to run. You didn’t own anything you couldn’t fit into your backpack. And you took that backpack everywhere when you managed to step outside your new house. 

But over time, you’d decorated your house. People you helped out at the clinic often gave you things as a token of their gratitude. Kids drew pictures for you. A lady once gave you the art off her wall that the previous owner had put up. Tommy and Maria gave you a new sweater that she’d knit when she was pregnant. New yarn from new wool from the town’s sheep. The first time you ever got something truly new. 

“No decorations, huh?” 

“What?”

“You don’t have any decorations here,” you pointed out again and licked your lips nervously.

“Uh, yeah. Not really the priority. Have’ta trade wisely. Can’t be gettin’ pictures when ya need bread.” 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “But you don't have to trade for it, you know? You could put up something of what’s in the house already. Surely the previous owners left some stuff.” 

“They did. Traded ‘em all for things we need. Fresh fruits, bullets, that kinda shit.” 

“Well, it doesn’t have to be framed art. You could cut up a nice picture from a magazine or something.” 

Joel looked up from the plans, head tilted and an eyebrow raised. Shit! Of course he thought you were talking about your magazines with the naked women. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you said, your voice coming out squeaky. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and looked down at the plans. 

“Let’s discuss the plans,” he said, his voice all gruff and his tone so stern. 

“I-I- uh… May I use your restroom?” you asked, unable to look him in the eye after what you’d said. After how he’d reacted. You really didn’t mean it like that. But you could see why that would be hard to believe when the last time he saw you, you had a box full of those men’s entertainment magazines on your bed and one open in front of you as you touched yourself. 

Touched yourself and moaned his name. 

“Upstairs, second door to the left.” 

You squeaked out a thanks before you bolted out of his dining room and made your way up the stairs. There were two bathrooms. One decorated with band posters and a poster of a girl with weirdly cut black hair sitting on a motorcycle. Had to be Ellie’s. The second door to the left was another bathroom. Joel’s, apparently. There was just one bar of soap, a toothbrush, and a pot of toothpaste. No shampoo bar. You pulled the toilet seat and lid down before taking a seat. 

You let out a groan and planted your face in your hands. Why the hell did you have to go and make it awkward like it wasn’t already that way. After he made you come that day, he’d refused to be anywhere near you. You hoped it was just coincidence, but after over a week it became undeniable that he was avoiding you. 

He probably thought you were going to catch feelings. A girl in one of the romance novels you read fell in love with a guy who took her virginity. And there was the time you overheard this guy talking about not wanting to sleep with a girl because she was a virgin. He was afraid she would catch feelings and get clingy. 

Now here you were in his bathroom because you thought it was wise to make small talk and ended up insinuating he should put up dirty pictures on his wall. You could scream. But you wouldn’t. There was already enough awkwardness with him. 

You could always jump out of the window and run off to your house. Never speak of this again. Pretend nothing happened if Joel tried to talk to you about it. But something told you that he wouldn’t. He would probably be happy if he never had to interact with you again. You had been acting desperate. He caught you touching yourself moaning his name, for fuck’s sake! 

Your hands, permanently dry from all the times you scrubbed them clean for your patients, found some moisture from your salty tears. It was embarrassing, sitting in the bathroom of a guy who wanted nothing to do with you after you scared him off with your stupid little infatuation. 

You were a grown woman. Still young, but too old to be acting like this. You should have some experience already. Not sniffling over a man more than twice your age. He was right. He had been a grown man with experience longer than you’d been alive. Of course he wanted nothing to do with you. 

The window looked more and more attractive as the seconds passed. It had been a while since you did something like that. You didn’t need to jump out of buildings or trees anymore. You didn’t go on patrols like some residents. With no need to fight for your life and having all the food you could need to never go hungry even once, you’d become a little unfit. If you broke a bone jumping out of Joel’s bathroom window, there would be questions. And everyone would know. You’d have to avoid the whole town instead of just Joel. 

You’d just have to face it. Even if facing it was doing as little as just bidding him goodbye and bolting out of his house without an explanation. You got off his toilet and pressed the flush just so he didn’t think you were weird. Like it fucking mattered. He already found you weird and desperate. 

You washed your hands, letting the water wash away the tears on your hands before wiping your wet hands over your face in an attempt to remove traces of your crying. 

You should’ve just left after that. Not looked around. Not snooped like a creep. You didn’t ever dig. You didn’t have to look too deep to catch it. But a sliver of white peeked out through the netted walls of the laundry hamper. A sliver of white cotton with a light blue stitch. 

Without second thought, you dug into his dirty laundry. You came up with the white cotton fabric, going straight to the gusset where the blue thread stitched the fabric pieces together. The original stitch had given out and you sewed it back together just some time back. The blue thread was all that you had at the time. 

As though the sight of your panties in Joel’s bathroom wasn’t jarring enough, next came the smell. Of you. Your cum. You felt practically hear your own heartbeats as you recalled how he’d cleaned you up with your own panties. You recalled that he stuffed the fabric in his pocket as you lied on your bed, pussy still pulsating from his handiwork, brain melted, and life changed forever. 

You took another whiff of your panties, goosebumps raising the hairs on your body as you felt it. Your cum and something else. It was still damp.

Blood rushed back up to your face and you felt yourself getting tense. 

This fucker. How dare he? You’d been embarrassed just a minute ago over your desires and he was doing this the whole time? Noticing you on the streets and running away for days. Running back to his home where he kept your fucking panties, apparently. Avoiding you for so long only to cum in your panties. 

So he wanted you. 

If not you, he at least wanted sex. Dirrty old man who liked attention from you, but you weren’t even disgusted. Just angry he was pretending to be better than that. He could’ve used any old rag, but he used your panties. 

You brought your defiled panties back up and smelled them again. Strangely, it smelled something like bleach. Or you could be wrong. You’d never… You didn’t know what a man’s release was supposed to smell like. Was it different for each man or did they all smell the same? 

Wetness pooled in your panties as you imagined him touching himself. Large rough hand wrapped around himself. Did he think of you when he did it? Think of you naked in your bedroom and taking his fingers? What did his penis look like? What would it feel like? Soft? Rough? You’d wondered about having one inside you, but never about a particular man’s anatomy. But this was Joel. Joel was the only one who’d gotten this far in your head. 

He couldn’t deny it to you anymore. If nothing else, you could at least call him out for ignoring you when he was wiping his ejaculate off with your stolen panties.

“Joel!” you called out before your fears could talk you out of confronting him. Unsure if he would’ve heard you, you opened the bathroom door and yelled his name out again. “Joel!” 

“What?” 

“Come up here!” 

“What happened?” 

“Just come here.” 

You heard him sigh, the sound followed by the typical grunts and groans he made when standing up. Fuckin’ old man, ruining your life. Ruining your self-confidence. Ruining your fucking panties. His heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs as he climbed up, the sound getting louder as he got closer to the bathroom. 

“Why were you screaming my name like y–” he stopped mid scold, frozen in place by the door as he saw what you had in your hand. He opened and closed his mouth, as though attempting to explain but deciding otherwise. He licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but at you. 

“Do you not have rags, Joel?” you taunted, taking a step towards him and enjoying seeing him step back. You felt powerful, moving a large man with just your voice. It was very unlike how he made you feel all the days he ignored you. Weak, insignificant, undesirable.

“You weren’t meant to– Fuck, I’m sorry!” 

“Which part are you apologizing for? For breaking into my house and touching me? For ignoring me ever since? For stealing my underwear? Or for doing whatever you did with it?”

You moved him out of the bathroom, making him walk backwards in the hallway you hoped led to his bedroom. Even if it didn’t, you’d be fine. You’d exact revenge in any place you can. As long as you got to make him feel the way he made you feel. Pleasure. Shame. Want. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”

You took your last step towards him, finally trapping him against a wall. You stood close enough to place your hand on his chest. You licked your lips, the rock hard muscles beneath your touch storing itself away in your mind for later use. 

“Imagine what would happen if I told someone? You sister-in-law, perhaps… She hates you, doesn’t she?” You smirked, though you were screaming on the inside. You didn’t know where you got all this courage from. You didn’t know you had it in you to threaten a man as imposing as Joel. 

He turned pale, his hands up against the wall in surrender. If you’d asked him, he wouldn’t tell you the truth that it was to keep himself from touching you. “Please don’t tell anyone. I won’t do this again, I swear.” 

“Maybe I want you to do this again…” 

“You don’t. Trust me.” 

“Shh!” You said, placing your index finger on his lips. Pink, perfectly shaped, and so damn kissable. “Don’t tell me what I want. You ignored me ever since you walked into my house without my permission and shoved your fingers inside me. I was walking around town believing I wasn’t good enough for big old Joel Miller. What did you say? That you’ve been experiencing longer than I’ve been alive?” 

You raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t answer. Then he nodded reluctantly.

“Why were you coming in my panties then if I didn't measure up? ” 

“I won’t do it ag—” he groaned when you grabbed his cock through his pants. He let out a low grunt and his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck as he swallowed. You replaced your index finger with your thumb, tracing his trembling lips as you lazily stroked his cock with your other thumb. 

He filled your whole hand and there was still more. It took everything in you to not moan at the sheer size of him. To not grind your belly against it to feel it against you. You didn’t know how big it was supposed to be, but the romance novels you read always described the big ones as more desirable. 

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I asked why. Why did you steal my panties, Joel Miller?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did you come on it? Don’t fucking lie to me cause I can fucking smell you on it.” 

“I did. I jerked off with it.” You had to choke back a moan at that. No, you had to be strong. Show him you could take the upper hand just like he did with you. You weren’t a little girl with a crush. You were a woman and you could have this effect on a grown man. You refused to be discounted with a pat on your pussy no matter how much you wanted him to touch you like that again. 

“Mmm. And that’s enough to get you going. Just a pair of my panties.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Show me how you did it.” 

“What?” He asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Show. Me. How you did it.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, his hand coming up to stroke the base of his neck. “Wh-What?”

You felt your heart thud against your ribs and if you didn’t know from experience and your textbooks, you’d have been afraid that he could hear it. You’d never done anything so daring. You were the timid girl when it came to this stuff. That the thought even occurred to you was a testament to how much you desired Joel. Not just to sleep with any guy, but to have Joel. Without a word, you reached under the skirt of your dress and tugged your panties down. 

He inhaled sharply as you bent down and came back up with your panties. Undyed white fabric, a little green ribbon in the shape of a bow stitched to the front, gusset a light gray from your wetness. 

“Show me. I want to see what you were doing in your bathroom with my panties after ignoring me everyday,” you said, taking his hand and forcing the fabric into it. His hand curled around it and you found yourself feeling lighter. You didn't know how long you could keep up the brave front if he continued to have no response. 

“Take your clothes off.” 

It was like something changed the moment you gave him the garment. His eyes were on you, his gaze unrelenting. He took a step ahead and you stepped backward. His lips curled up in a smirk. It seemed playtime was over… Like a lion letting the cubs play at predation before taking over to show how hunting was really done. 

You didn’t know if you were ready for that… Sure it was nothing he’d never seen before, but it was different. The last time, you didn’t do it with the intention to have him see you. He just happened to see you bare and you didn’t cover up when you realized. 

“I don’t have a box full of dirty magazines. I need to see somethin’,” he said, his eyes going down your frame like they had every right to be there. “Or you could leave these,” he said, holding your panties up in front of your eyes, “and run back home. What d’ya say?”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you reached behind to find the zipper of your dress. You weren’t going to run off. Not when you’d been desperate for so long to do something, anything with him. Cold air kissed your back as you pulled the zipper down and the hairs on your body stood up in full attention. You pushed the sleeves off your shoulder and shimmied out of the dress, standing in just your dress in front of him. 

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He looked you up and down. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down. He radiated superiority, putting you in some kind of a daze. “Your bra too. Show me your tits.” 

The crudeness had more wetness pooling between your legs. You nodded wordlessly, afraid that pathetic whimpers would be the only sound you’d make under his gaze. You reached behind and felt around for the clasp of your bra. With his eyes piercing into you, you failed to find it quickly like you usually did. Your mouth dried up, your tongue sticking to the roof. 

He made no effort to help. A mocking smile assumed its place on his lips as he watched you struggle in front of him. 

When you finally managed your task and stood fully naked, he stood up straight. His tongue darted out and licked his lips. You felt like a piece of meat placed in front of a starving man. Just seconds ago, you were telling yourself you didn’t need his approval, that this would just be revenge. But as he evaluated your body, your pussy wept with the need for your body to be nothing but what he liked.

“Room’s that way.” He nodded in the direction of the room. You turned around and took small steps, your shoulders curling inward and your head bowed in submission. Every inch of your skin burned with the strength of his gaze. 

“Kneel.” 

You placed your knee on his bed, ready to climb up. 

“On the floor.” 

One knee still on his white sheets, you turned around to look at him. He was so large. Imposing. The kind of figure you would follow without question. So, you did. 

“You look pretty on your knees.” 

He took a few steps towards you, stopping when the distance had your neck straightening to look up at him. Large, powerful, imposing. Another step and you were face-to-face with his crotch. His bulge was right there. 

“Go on, take it out. Since you wanted it so bad.” 

Joel didn’t think you would do it. You looked even smaller kneeling at his feet. Meek little thing. He didn’t at all expect you to taunt him the way you did. Especially after you threatened to tell on him to Maria. He fully expected you to start crying. Guess he really underestimated you. Virgin didn’t necessarily mean innocent. 

Yet you folded as soon as he took the reins. He saw the change in you right when he told you to take your clothes off. When your eyes went from determined to defeated. All that spunk evaporated to reveal the little girl underneath. He liked it like that. Made him feel like a real man. Not that there was any scarcity of masculinity in his life of taking out clickers and defending this town. But somethin’ about a beautiful woman accepting his authority did the trick faster than every other display of masculinity. 

Your hands fiddled with his belt, trembling as you tried to take it off. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. “Just undo the zip.” 

No way he was going to get naked in front of a pretty little twenty something. It wasn’t anything great to look at even before he began a life of violence and traversing the wilderness. Sure he was well built from all the hard physical labor and constant fight for survival. It’d left several unappealing scars on his person. Time had done a number on him too. Especially his pudgy belly. It didn’t help that food flowed free in Jackson, fattening him up a little. 

Thankfully, you listened. You looked up, as though you expected him to complete the task for him. He challenged you with a look. Wanna be a big girl so bad, act like one.

You reached inside his pants and took his cock out. Your lips parted and he heard you inhale through your mouth. His cock hung in front of him, hard from your teasing. He had to give it to you, you were daring for a meek little thing. No one in town would believe him if he told them all that you’d done. And he suspected he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Not too late to back out, you know?” he said, wrapping his hand around himself. It took everything in him to give you an out. As much as he wanted to grab your face, force your mouth open and make you gag around him, he was man enough to let you know you didn’t have to do anything. Young girl probably bit more than you could swallow. And seeing his cock and your mouth so close by showed that he was definitely nothing you could swallow.

“I’m not backing out.” 

“First time seeing one?” 

“Of course not. I work at the clinic. You think I haven’t seen a penis?” 

“No anatomical terms. I ain’t your patient. Go on, touch my cock.” 

You reached up for him, but he stepped back, delighting himself in the disappointment on your face. “Come on, you want a man so bad, work for it.” 

You moved to stand up. “Did I say you could stand up?” 

“No.” 

“Then get back on your fucking knees.” 

You dropped to your knees and he groaned in satisfaction. The euphoria of wielding power over someone rushed through his veins. And he wanted more. It was the same sick satisfaction he got when he beat men to death. When he broke bones and dressed animals he hunted in the wild. “Good girl. You’re going to listen to what I say. Got it?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Fuck! That fucking word again.

“Come on, come get it. Hands and knees. Crawl to me.” 

He beckoned you forward with one hand, his other still on his cock. You bent over and god fucking damnit, you were a vision. You were an eager girl and he could see what you could become in the right hands. His hands. The things he could show you… Introduce you to your own body. Bring you pain and pleasure that were indistinguishable.

Your tits hung from your chest, swaying as you crawled towards him. Feverish, bright eyes followed him as he continued to refuse what you wanted. Too fucking late. He warned you. Told you men like him weren’t for pretty little things like you. But you didn’t fucking want to listen. Now you’d have to deal with the consequences. Maybe you’d stay away then. 

“Please, Sir,” you whined so prettily he almost gave in. 

“What are you begging for?” 

“You. Y-your penis.” 

“My cock,” he corrected. “Say it.”

“Your cock, Sir.” 

“Good girl. C’mere,” he said, giving you a nod to come closer. You crawled to him and when he didn’t back away, sat up on your knees. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and gripped your hair, making you hiss. Holding you in place, he brought his cock to your face. You looked up at it, your eyes widening and your mouth slackening. You brought your hand up and touched his tip with just your thumb. The rest of your hand followed, wrapping around him. He gasped silently as you stroked his slit with your thumb, making him leak precum on you. 

“Did…? Did you?” 

“No. Gotta do more ‘n that to make me come. That’s precum.” 

“Oh.” 

He didn’t think you knew what precum was. Probably not the focus of your education here. Not the most important thing when townsfolk came in injured after patrols or suffering from a fever that was life threatening without the medicines of the past. 

He pressed his cock against your cheek. The sight presented a visual of how you’d struggle if you took him in your mouth. He’d have you choking on him before you even took half. He twitched against your face at the mere thought. You were the picture of innocence, even with his cock on your face. Even with the stunt you pulled before he put you back in your place. 

“Think I’ll just do this. Fuck your pretty face.” 

You whimpered, spurring him on. He wanted to force himself inside you, punish your mouth for having the gall to speak to him the way you did. Make you cry from how full of him you were. Give you a sore throat so when you spoke to him again, you’d remember to speak with respect. But you wouldn’t be able to handle it. So he’d settle for defiling your sweet features, hold his cock against your cheek and rut like the animal he was.

“I ain’t gonna lay you out on my bed and take you nice and slow. I’m just gonna use you. ‘s what men like me do.”

He pulled away, giving you another opportunity to rethink this. “You can put your fucking clothes on and leave if you don’t like it.” 

To his surprise, you stayed put on your knees. You shook your head before reaching up and rubbing your cheek against his cock. You let out a soft moan, eyes closed and your thighs pressed together tight. “No, no. I like it.” 

“Fuckin’ slut,” he said, his hand back in your hair. He tugged at it and took his cock in his other hand. He tapped your lips with his tip, smearing the precum that leaked out of him. “You like an older man using your face like it’s a pussy?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He snorted, amused. “Never met a virgin slut before. Getting your face fucked before your pussy. Bet you’re wet from this.” 

There was the sweet little whimper from you again. He wanted to hear more of it. Trap you underneath him and make you weep and cry and whimper as he split you in half.

“Let me see. Touch your pussy, show me your slick.” 

You obeyed, spread your knees and touched yourself. Your hand glistened under the light of his bedroom, your wetness stretching between your fingers in strings. “Goddamn, would you look at that…” he said in a low rumble. “Rub it on my cock.” 

Your hand trembled slightly and you stared at him with a blank look in your eyes. He guided your hand to his cock, withdrawing his hand when he’d brought you close enough so you could decide whether you wanted to follow his command. You touched your slickened hand to his cock, covering him in the evidence that you wanted this. Wanted him. You reached between your legs and brought more of yourself, eyes soft yet glazed with lust as you smeared yourself all over his length. 

“Ask me for it.” 

“Please,” you whined. 

“Please, what?” 

“P-please fuck my face. Sir.” 

He returned his cock to your cheek, your wetness lubricating your face. Hand cradling his cock, he began to thrust. It wasnt much different from fucking his own fist. It was just skin. Not the tight velvety wetness of a pussy or a throat that would gag with his thickness. But your face was softer than his gun callused hands. Even better was your pretty face, looking up at him so adoringly… So full of desire. 

He didn’t have to let his imagination do the trick now. Not when you were right in front of him, lending yourself for his use. And no imagination, no memory did justice to you. Your body. Scarred, but beautiful. Tits that filled his large hands, clean and styled hair, a belly that showed you were well fed. He wanted to lay you out on his bed and consume you. Take your tits in his mouth, grab handfuls of your ass, spread your cunt lips and lodge himself inside you. Give it to you hard so your thigh jiggled and you felt them ache as they rubbed against each other when you walked around in your pretty little dresses. 

But as depraved as he was, he knew he shouldn’t be the first to take you. He’d have you just this once. Store your image in his head to get off with for as long as his dick worked. You acted all brave, but he couldn’t shake off that you were still inexperienced. The first time was meant to be good. The world was no longer normal, but you could have normality within the insular walls of Jackson. 

Even this was wrong. Using you like this instead of making sweet love to you. But he hadn’t been that man in a long time. He was selfish and cruel. If there was no town, no community where everyone knew everyone and you still threw yourself at him, he would’ve taken you in all your holes with no hesitation. Ruined you, kept you until your body wasn’t of use and tossed you aside. But being in this semi-normal place had gotten its claws into him. Softened him up.

He grew closer to the edge embarrassingly quickly, the haze of carnal pleasure beginning to muffle the voices screaming in his head to let you go. He only barely noticed that you were touching yourself. Enjoying this treatment of you. That spurred him on. There was no stopping now. 

You let out soft moans, your eyes never once leaving him. He struggled to get himself to focus. To check for any signs you didn’t want this. But all he saw was you on the precipice of pleasure. The world disappeared. His house, Jackson, the darkness that lay beyond. It was all him now. He felt lighter, like he would float out through the window and everything he’d ever been through would disappear. Every ounce of goodness quietened down, the last shreds of his morality discarded with your dress. He grunted and moaned your name as he kept fucking you. Your features morphed into nothingness. No longer a face, no longer a human woman. All he knew was the ache in his body, the tightness that begged to be released. 

He slapped a hand against the wall as his thighs stiffened and every muscle in the vicinity of his cock tightened. He took himself back in his hand and stroked himself over your face. Once, twice, and thr– mid stroke, he growled and spilled on your face, coating your innocent features in sticky white cum. You flinched as the first stream hit, screwing your eyes shut. He wanted to make you look, see how he could defile you, show you that he wasn’t for you. Force you to confront what you’d allowed into your life so you’d run and never look back. 

But all he could do was keep stroking as he came down from his high. It was unlike anything he’d had in the recent past. Not his imagination, not just his hand. A real human woman who wasn’t just a convenience. One who sought him out, stripped for him, and let him use her face like a toy. 

He took a minute to collect his breath and let his senses return to him. His cock hung semi-hard outta his jeans, like it could go again if he willed it. Like it wasn’t almost six decades old. But he wasn’t too surprised. He could go again for the utterly debauched girl in front of him. Innocence eclipsed by milky white ropes of his cum. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hair and pulled at it. You yelped, but let him pull you up from the ground and drag you to the other side of the room. 

He stopped you in front of his mirror, and slapped your hand off your pussy before replacing it with his. “Look at yourself. I fucking told you,” he said, forcing two thick fingers inside your cunt. You sucked him in with little resistance, your cunt leaking enough for him to force a third finger inside you. You gasped and tried to wriggle away, but he wasn’t having it. He was a fucking monster, but he would never leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially a young thing who’d never had anyone else before. 

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, his half hard cock begging him to go again when he felt the vibrations of your moans. “I warned you,” he whispered into your ear. “Fuckin’ warned you. Told you how starved I was. And you still taunted me. Look at you now!” 

“Please… Please, Joel! Sir, please…” 

“Fuckin’ slut. Maybe you ain’t really a virgin.” 

“I am, I am, I promise. I wa–” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he pressed his thumb on your clit. 

“What was that?” 

You made some incoherent noises, too far gone to form words. Yet you managed to thrust onto his fingers and roll your hips like a real natural. 

“Joel…” 

“I know, pretty girl… I know,” he cooed, the softness in his voice contradicting how he’d used you just minutes prior. Contradicting the cum on your pretty little face. 

“You gonna come for me? Give me another one after you came so sweetly on my fingers that day?” 

There were no answers from you. Not even an acknowledgement that you heard him. Just whines and moans as you let him support your entire weight. Your head lolled back on his shoulder and your eyes rolled back into your skull as he fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Oh the things he could do with his cock… Reach deeper, take the virginity you’d held on to for so long. If he ever had you, he would never let go. He was too selfish a man to willingly lose a girl so precious after taking her cunt. 

You gripped him like a vice, so tight he couldn't pry his fingers out. Something that vaguely sounded like his name spilled from your lips as you crumpled in his arms. Your pussy pulsated around you as he held you against him, unwilling to remove himself from you so quickly. 

He withdrew your panties from his pocket– the fresh pair you took off in his fucking hallways like it was no big deal. He wiped your face with it the same way he cleaned up your cunt that day. Instead of tucking it in his pocket, he forced it into your hand. 

“Put it on. Your fucking dress, too. Hope you learned you fucking lesson.”

As you put it on and scampered away naked into his hallways, he hoped it would be enough to scare you away. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he would always crave you like an addict craving a drink.

⌘

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