#second row’s looking real good if you ask me

[leclercsbf]

formulasantander your second row for the F1 sprint

[astonmartinii]

you gotta look out for the quiet ones | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem musician!reader

a surprise appearance from y/n in the formula one paddock raises some questions, but the rumour mill will never guess who she's there to see...

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

note: olivia rodrigo is the face claim but i'll be pulling from her music as well as taylor swift!

f1

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 2,439,677 others

tagged: yourusername

f1: there's paddock guests and there's paddock guests, y/n y/ln is here for the bahrain grand prix!

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user1: MOTHER WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?

user2: this is not what i expected to see this friday morning

user3: okay i've only ever heard of y/n y/ln through others but like she must be dedicated to be there for friday as well

user4: certified y/n superfan here! y/n has always said she's a massive fan of f1 - she hasn't been asked about it recently but when she was last asked about it she said she grew up loving jenson button!

jensonbutton: @yourusername i see you have amazing taste

yourusername: how could i not love the playboy of f1?

user3: okay she knows what she's talking about, i guess it's time to have a little listen to her music

user5: okay so what garage is she going to be in?

user6: ferrari 🤞🏻

user7: did we not just see this ^^^ she's clearly going to be in the mclaren garage

user8: if she has any sense she'll be in the mercedes garage with sir lewis hamilton

user9: what about the literal world champions?

user10: shut the fuck up (i would like to see max blush and stutter tho)

user11: i love how y/n said she's taking a year off of music after her tour and we're immediately seeing her here, there and everywhere

user12: living her true sports nerd life and i love that for her

landonorris: i promise that mclaren have the best hospitality xx

user13: oh brother are we about to see some lando norris snapchat u up flirting?

alexalbon: this is tragic

georgerussell63: make sure you don't tell her about the massive poster you had of her that you practiced kissing on!

georgerussell63: whoops!

landonorris: i am in your walls george

user14: well.. that was something, i don't think we'll see her in the mclaren garage anytime soon now

logansargeant: @oscarpiastri i hope you brought your vinyl to be signed

oscarpiastri: i didn't want to risk it on the plane, it's limited edition 😔

user15: wait so oscar is also a y/n fan ???

user16: not this mclaren battle for y/n's attention

user17: lets be real, there's no competition here - there's no way she wouldn't choose lando

user18: i'm tired of you people sleeping on oscar (pun intended)

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 21,309,784 others

yourusername: i had so much fun the first time round, i thought i'd come by again

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user25: okayyyy i thought the girlies on twitter were delusional but the second race in a row ... i fear there's another incentive

user26: once again, she's been a massive fan of the sport and has a ton of disposable money why wouldn't she go to a load of races?

landonorris: can't wait to see you again this weekend, i'll get you that win i promised

alexalbon: nurse he's talking to himself again

georgerussell63: this is crazy thirsting to do in front of 21 million people

landonorris: i assure you i'll be the one with the last laugh here

maxverstappen1: sure you will buddy, it's good to see you so confident

user27: are they gentle parenting lando?

user28: bro is about to get his heart broken they're actually being good friends

user29: idk i think he's still the one in the paddock with the best shot

user30: i gotta get this delusion all lando fans seem to have

carlossainz55: i think you'd look great in red ❤️

charles_leclerc: oh gosh....

carlossainz55: they don't call me the smooth operator for no reason, just sit back and watch the magic

maxverstappen1: you fucking morons do realise you're proclaiming this in a PUBLIC instagram comment section that everyone INCLUDING y/n can see?

user31: this is a mess ... keep going!

oscarpiastri: i celebrated my win here in 2021 with the release of sour - i know you're on a sabbatical but any chance of a surprise single?

user32: yall getting on lando and carlos for their bad flirting when oscar is stinking up the gaff with his attempts

yourusername: i'm so sorry to tell you this but no surprise single, but i can show you some demos?

oscarpiastri: please, please, please! good 4 u is my scream in the car song

user33: i just know oscar was streaming traitor when his DRS failed for the ten billionth time

oscarpiastri: it went platinum in my car yes

yourusername: i imagine it's even better at 200mph

oscarpiastri: i'd be happy to show you anytime

yourusername: carpool karaoke x hot laps when?

oscarpiastri: name a time and i'm there

user34: why is oscar trying so hard bro she's not going to choose you

user35: and yet he's the only one she replied to ... makes you think

user36: you guys are miserable because i'd literally do anything to see them singing in a car together

oscarpiastri

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 832,988 others

oscarpiastri: jeddah you were okay i guess

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user37: holy soft launch

user38: and right after flirting up a storm with Y/N Y/LN

user39: first of all, oscar is a fan of y/n so it could've definitely been from a platonic point of view

user40: it has to be platonic cause bro had no chance to start with and has a gf ???

landonorris: i'm sorry what is this ?

oscarpiastri: an instagram post, would hope you would know what that is if you're already on the app

landonorris: don't get smart with me mister

oscarpiastri: you got smart first 🤨

landonorris: what happened to my sweet rookie?

oscarpiastri: he's still 23 years old ?

landonorris: i need to meet this mystery woman who has seemed to give you all this sass

user41: prema girlies know that this sass has always been here

user42: but i'm glad it's coming out in f1

yourusername: okay i guess? you slayed mr piastri and i won't hear anything less than that

oscarpiastri: okay it was a bit of a slay

yourusername: a bit?

oscarpiastri: a big slay then

yourusername: stop talking down on yourself otherwise you'll have me to deal with

oscarpiastri: that is not the threat you think it is

yourusername: it's not a threat it's a promise x

user43: excuse me what the fuck was that ^

user44: i can't tell if they're flirting or if y/n just feels sorry for him?

user45: they did get coffee like once this weekend so maybe they're just friends

user46: they have to be because there's no way that is y/n in this soft launch

user47: there's no way oscar piastri could woo the y/n y/ln idk why people are even suggesting it

user48: and i think even flirting with her is a bit weird considering his teammate has made it so obvious he likes her

user49: oscar doesn't seem to be the type to step on toes but we'll see

logansargeant: if that's who i think it is i am going to fight you for not telling me straight up

oscarpiastri: i'll meet you in the parking lot i guess

logansargeant: be there or be square

user50: what does logan know that we don't ???

f1tea

liked by user52, user53 and 11,209 others

f1tea: now she's attended THREE races in a row, i think it's okay to start the conversation about her being with one of the drivers... so here's our theories!

lando: he's been on this train the longest and has the old thirst tweets to back it up. he's been spotted talking to her numerous times at races and has been camping in her comment section since bahrain

carlos: he has also been in her comments since bahrain and has been seen with her in the paddock - less than lando but y/n has worn red a couple times in the paddock so??

lewis: y/n was blushing up a storm when they were spotted together and i honestly think if the age gap wasn't so big they would be so cute together

liam: an outside shout but this guy was stuck to her side the whole time she was at red bull

charles: they have spoken a lot in the paddock, i don't think it's him but omg imagine them together

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user54: not this oscar erasure - i.e. the only driver she's actually interacted with online

user55: if it's oscar i will literally streak across the track at the next race

user56: admin snuck liam in there like we wouldn't notice

user57: idk why they think that liam is a better shout than oscar

user58: i think all the fangirling from oscar defo put him straight into the friend zone

user59: idk about you guys but i've actually listened to y/n's music and her album after her last breakup suggests that she might like someone who appreciates her craft and publicly supports her

user60: yeah but she also deserves a boyfriend that's on her level

user61: oscar is a literal f1 driver?

user60: yeah but he's not cute enough

user62: to YOU

user63: omg just say you have no taste and bounce gosh

user64: how did lando become a frontrunner in this?

user65: i think because he's liked her the longest? and has been the most insistent

user66: i hate to say this but just because you like someone and said it first, does not mean you are entitled to actually date them

user67: i will laugh my ass off if she's not with any of these fools

user68: bro took a year off of music to have some fun and now is linked to everyone and their mum

user69: unfortunately this is the way it goes although if she does become a wag (tho be real, whoever is with her is the wag) i shall be enjoying her paddock outfits

user70: carlos vs oscar i think i've seen this film before

user71: oh trust me off track there is no competition

user72: you people are so mean

user73: oscar will win again, mark my words. i'm not sure if carlos can cry to the fia about that tho

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 23,874,093 others

yourusername: getting the real aussie experience down under

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user74: AHHHHHHHHHH A MAN

user75: who the fuck wears jeans on a hammock she needs to run away from this man he's clearly a psychopath

maxverstappen1: you went to see quokkas without me??? does our friendship mean nothing ???

yourusername: it's not considered normal to invite friends to a date

maxverstappen1: boring. i will remember this when you try and get some red bull from our hospitality

yourusername: nO PLEASE

maxverstappen1: no, for this you must suffer through the piss they put in monster cans

this comment was deleted

maxverstappen1: well you should've thought more of our friendship :P

yourusername: you are impossible. no more limited edition merch for you

maxverstappen1: WHAT

user76: for all this love life speculation i am loving this max and y/n friendship

user77: but... the monster comment... it has to be lando right? monster sponsor mclaren

user78: i think this is the most confirmation we're getting right now

user79: they're so cute

oscarpiastri: i am glad the homeland is treating you well :)

yourusername: i've only had one scary insect encounter so win!

oscarpiastri: we'll have to get you some real australian delicacies this weekend

yourusername: i've heard of grandma's baking so i'm excited!

oscarpiastri: we've got a tupperware box with your name on it

yourusername: ugh i love you guys

user80: the monster comment pointed to mclaren but there's only one of them in the comments...

user81: i mean this is a soft launch so it would make sense that lando wouldn't comment if they're trying to throw people off of their scent

user82: the mental gymnastics you people are doing is insane

user83: literally just admit that your driver just doesn't have the sauce like that

user84: and oscar piastri does???

user85: STOP SLEEPING ON HIM HE'S LITERALLY GETTING HER HOME-BAKED GOODS

oscarpiastri

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,349,761 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: home win means more than you could ever know. and you can stop theorising now, i may be a nerd but i've still got game.

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user89: HHAHHHAHHAHAHAHHA THAT'S MY AUSSIE

user90: stunting his stunning gf on all these delusional fangirls

yourusername: now i can finally say it: I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU

yourusername: and i'm proud of you

yourusername: forever and always

oscarpiastri: maybe i was so fast because i knew there was a literal angel waiting for me back in my garage

yourusername: oh so the other races i came to i just didn't look good enough for you to win :(

oscarpiastri: NO NO NO you're always the most beautiful woman in any room

oscarpiastri: but this time you're wearing my jersey and my name

yourusername: i guess i'll never take it off again

oscarpiastri: you might not take it off, but that doesn't mean i won't

yourusername: ehhhehehhehheeh hurry up in debrief :P

user91: oscar piastri i am so sorry i was not familiar with your game

user92: i for one had complete faith in that bumbling fool

yourusername: as you should, he may have stuttered through the lines, but he's one smooth operator

carlossainz55: that's my nickname? please stop rubbing salt in the wound

yourusername: it was better than your attempts. and better than whatever the fuck you've been doing on the track - keep your dumptruck away from oscar

user93: y/n defending oscar, consider me moved

user94: okay fave celeb couple just dropped

landonorris: HOW LONG HAS THIS BEING GOING ON? HOW LONG HAVE YOU LET ME FLIRT WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND? HOW DID I LOSE TO YOU?

yourusername: watch your tone.

landonorris: sorry???

oscarpiastri: we've been together nearly a year. i didn't 'let' you flirt with my girlfriend i tried to tell you but you ignored me at every turn. you didn't lose to me, there was never any competition.

yourusername: best year of my life 🫶 and lando i tried to tell you, maybe listen to oscar for once 😭

oscarpiastri: awwwwww i love you 😘

yourusername: i love you too osc xx

user95: not them dancing on lando's dead body 😭

logansargeant: I FUCKING KNEW IT YOU SON OF A BITCH

oscarpiastri: never doubt me again eagle boy

yourusername

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tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: if you saw me ugly crying on live tv - no you didn't. i'm so proud of you osc, my beautiful boy.

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user96: i think y/n was all of us

user97: absolutely screaming at all of the y/n fans on twitter having a meltdown and trying to figure out how f1 works

user98: this was me, am i really going to learn about tyre compounds because y/n is dating a driver? yes!

maxverstappen1: i am very happy for you both but enjoy the win while it lasts oscar i have a score to settle after being ABANDONED on the quokka date

yourusername: once again it was a DATE which is for the two people in the relationship, not the weird third guy with attachment issues

maxverstappen1: well jokes on you i do have attachment issues and now i've latched onto you and oscar which means you're contractually obligated to come to every race now

yourusername: ok?

oscarpiastri: it's okay max with our combined powers, y/n will have to stick around she hates making us sad

yourusername: it's true :(

user99: not lando fumbling yet another lead

yourusername: he never had a chance to begin with

oscarpiastri: 😆

user100: this is another level of teammate psychological warfare

landonorris: i am a victim of a smear campaign

oscarpiastri: smear campaign being you flirting with my girlfriend after she told you she had a boyfriend

landonorris: I DIDN'T HEAR HER

yourusername: i said it multiple times 🤨 and SOFT LAUNCHED OSCAR AND YOU STILL TRIED

georgerussell63: looks like it's back to the poster now lando

yourusername: and for the record ^^ this is very creepy

landonorris: THAT WAS LIKE TEN YEARS AGO

alexalbon: that's what you want us to think ...

user101: i am screaming at them rubbing it in lando's face

user102: kind of deserved LOL but funny nonetheless

oscarpiastri: all things aside, i'm so glad you could be there for my first win! i love you so much and can't wait to spend there rest of my life with you, even if it means my teammate flirts with you everyday

yourusername: i love you too osc, i'm sure you'll win so many more

oscarpiastri: i'm counting on it ;)

landonorris: I AM SORRY HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT

yourusername: you gonna let oscar have the upgrades first?

landonorris: no?

yourusername: then i will guilt you at every corner 🤨

fin. i know, i know. guilty as sin is coming but i just wanted to get this out. i had to come home from silverstone early cause of a mechanical dnf (foot stopped working and had heat stroke and a cold at the same time). but i had a great time while i was there and met a load of drivers with lando and alex signing my hat !!!!!

[alwaysshallow]

johnny x reader, except you’re his prize.

let’s state the facts: your partner has a gambling problem. you first thought of it as innocent, but when your jewelry started to disappear piece by piece, when your laptop went missing, you started asking questions. it's your boyfriend after all, someone you trust so much, so he has to have a good explanation for all of this, right?

well, you wish you didn't ask him. you wish you wouldn't dig into it because it got to a point that you learned about his massive losing streak, debt. he promises you he won't do it anymore, and for some reason, you want to believe him.

you know you shouldn't, but you do. 

this trust breaks completely when he says that you have to move out to your parents again because he lost your shared apartment.

you're furious, calling him names until he says there’s actually a way to win it all back. 

you want to laugh when he says he can put you instead of the money. actually, you do laugh, but you stop the second you see he’s not joking. he says something about a “creepy, weird guy” that he’s playing with, and how he always encourages him to do so. because it will be “fun”. because there’s lot of adrenaline in that and you want to scream, when he really seems to think of it.

“i’m not gonna lose against him. i’m teaming up with a guy-” 

something tells you that you shouldn’t do it, but when your boyfriend brings the money a few times in a row in the next week, you gain hope. you visit the casino with him to see him play and to see the weird guy.

“the weird guy” doesn’t look weird at all; there’s a dangerous charm about him, about this mohawk that he has, broad shoulders and a jawline that could cut you.

his eyes are on you multiple times during the play. he acts like he owns the place when he doesn’t even look at the cards but at you, flashing you a smile. you see the hint of teeth in that smile, and you know that’s not good.

there’s nothing kind in it. it’s more predatory than anything.

and you know you’re right, when your boyfriend looks with shock at you, and the other men look defeated.

“this has to be a joke, right?” you ask, taking steps back when you see that the man is standing up. “something like this can’t be allowed, it’s just wrong, it’s—”

“wrong is also stealing,” the man says, tipping your chin up. “and you shouldn’t steal, bonnie. tha’s real bad, ye know? especially from me.”

there’s no pole for discussion when he throws you over his shoulder, when you’re about to throw a tantrum. he just laughs and tells you his name.

because apparently, you’re supposed to know it from now on.

[cheriladycl01]

hey babe!

may I request AM!Seb X RB!driver!reader where she's like a female version of what he was when he drove for RB? Like, cocky, competitive and young, where she's basically him paying for his sins lmao

thanks <333

I see my reflection in your eyes - Sebastian Vettel x RedBullDriver! Reader

Plot: Cocky Young Red Bull Driver looks good when your in a team with Max Verstappen. She’s a menace on track and Sebastian feels as though he needs to put her in her place.

Warnings: SMUT. Car sex. Angst. Sexism (in the MS industry) etc. MINORS DNI 18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, my fav reader!

Credit to violetvettel for the GIF

You and Max were exceptional team-mate since you'd been promoted to Red Bull in 2021 but you'd became more of a menace on track than when you were a part of AlphaTauri.

Even though it wasn't a championship winning car, every week you were driving it like one. In your season prior to your promotion. You hadn't finished outside the points, had no DNF's a few podiums and even a race win.

Horner came to you during the summer break proposing to switch you out for Albon. Of course you immediately agreed. Max was the same age as you so you were actually already pretty close, you were always found causing mayhem around the paddock despite being in different teams right now.

Obviously once you came into RedBull the car just suited your driving style so well, and you adapted much quicker than Pierre and Alex had and on your first race in 2021 you'd set pole position. You and Max had locked out the front row and you were buzzing with energy. This could be the year you win the constructors.

However, the first race was a shame in Bahrain, Lewis had collided with you into Turn 5. Lewis ended up winning, Max in P2 and Valtteri in P3. It was supposed to be your podium ... but it didn't matter too much.

The season wasn't just a Max and Lewis battle, but you were up there as well. A real challenge for Max and you were confident.

Who wouldn't be ... first female race winner in F1 and at one point in the season you were Championship Leader?

And Sebastian always was irked by this. Because you reminded him so much of himself in his RedBull days. He was cocky, arrogant and if he was being honest with himself a bit of a prick and he could see that with you.

He didn't know if it was the more you hung out with Max or if it was just the ego getting bigger and bigger but he remembered you as a sweet little rookie... freshly out of F2 and were nervous any time you got in the car.

But now he looked at you and all he could see what the smirk... that sexy sexy smirk.

But now you were sat in a drivers conference talking about the upcoming race and problems from the last one.

The last race was Monaco and you'd podiumed with Lando and Max and it was an incredible feeling. The three of you had spent the night partying in Monte Carlo casino and the pictures were in the tabloids the next day.

The next race was Azerbaijan and towards the last few laps it was you battling it out with Sebastian. Your car wasn't at peak performance as you hadn't done well in qually. But you managed to keep it up and came through with your second win of the season thus putting you up as current championship winner. Considering all the other podiums you'd had.

The feeling of stepping out the car was incredible. The fist pump in the air, your hair caked in champagne and sweat on the podium. It was an incredible feeling.

"So comments on those last few laps, Sebastian!" an interviewer asks.

"I mean it was ridiculous i don't understand how personalities weren't awarded ..." he frowns looking over at you smiling and giggling with Lando who was, along with Max a best friend of yours on the grid.

"Please elaborate!" he asks.

"Track limits, driving dangerously ... do i need to go on!" he laughs making you turn you head to him and scoff.

"I hope you aren't talking about me" you ask looking over at him and the other drivers go silent. You are now sat back with your arms crossed and a frown on your face as you look down at him in front of you.

"Of course I'm talking about you" he grits out and you just smile at him.

"Calm down, lets not get your panties in a twist!" you mumble so only Lando and Max either side of you can and they try to hide their laughs from you.

"What was that?" he asks twisting round fully to look at you now.

"Nothing, nothing. I think just don't comment on my driving abilities when I defended from you for the last 15 laps ... pretty well" you smirk looking down at him.

He just tuts turning back round making you shake your head and sigh as the interviewer looks to you to direct his next question.

"Y/N how does it feel as a woman to have all these world champions behind you after today?" he asks and you cock your head at him in surprise.

"Re-word that..." you smile at him, and he looks just as confused as you did.

"Sorry?" he asks and everyone around looks towards you.

"All you needed to ask was who it feels to have all these world champs behind me, my gender adds nothing to the question specifically ... if you wanted to ask me about my first race win as the only woman to win an F1 race ... that different" you smile and the interviewer coughs awkwardly at the same time as you PR manager shakes her head at you to stop.

"But to answer, i had the upgrades in the car. I was determined i had a good start and the race went my way today... and I think that's all that really matters..." you smile.

After the meeting, all it took was for you to be stood outside the McLaren hospitality next to Lando and Daniel, laughing with the pair of them for Sebastian to come forward looking at you with his hands on his hips.

"You, come with me!" he exclaims grabbing your wrist making you follow him.

"What the fuck! Seb, let me go!" you say as he pulls you out of the race track paddock entrance and to where his blacked out Aston Martin was.

"Let me go!" you tug on the tight grip on your wrist.

"Just stop! What happened to the sweet girl i first met here, you are ruthless, cocky and rude now! I don't like it!" he exclaims looking over you with a frown on his face.

"I've matured Seb, I'm not the same 21 year old i was when i first came here and first met you. Stop treating me like this little girl ... I'm done being nice and friendly ... i didn't get my way that way. Just deal with it!" you say throwing your hands up in exasperation.

"Matured, yeah right? You were arguing with me in there like a spoilt little brat!" he says, his eyes were so angry right now that you actually had to take a step back.

"Seb, deal with it!" you frown, stepping away and going to turn around.

"Get in the car Y/N!" he says opening the passenger side door.

"Why should i!" you ask not facing him to give him the satisfaction that you are fully listening to him.

"Because, I want to talk ... just us two!" he says his features fully softening, your brain was melting.

It couldn't work out if he was mocking you, or if he was genuinely being sweet. You stand there, now turned back around just watching his face as he stands there holding his passenger side door open.

"Argh fine!" you cry throwing your hands up. You were part of the Ferrari Driver Development Programme when you were 21 in F2 and Sebastian was a really important part of that development and the push you needed to get into F1. He was 31 and you saw him as a friendly mentor back then.

But the way he treated you, you'd developed a crush on him and you just knew it was wrong. A 10 year age gap that you knew the media would see as an abuse of power if anything was to ever happen between the two of you.

So you started to repress those feelings. You hung out more with Charles who joined you in your rookie season starting in 2018. Then when Lando joined there was more people your age on the grid. Even though Max was 26, he acted much older thanks to the early age he had started driving at which did lead you more to Charles and Lando. But where Charles was, Seb also was.

A few season's later and you were being promoted to Red Bull.

Seb drove you all the way to a quiet and coastal part of Baku, no-one was around.

"You embarrassed me today..." he sighs looking over at you as he pulled the handbrake up so you guys were stopped.

"Oh big whoop... all the other drivers do it and they don't get shit for it!" you complain crossing your arms over you chest and leaning back in the chair to get comfortable. You could tell you were going to be here for a while and you were in the middle of city you didn't know in a pretty quiet place and you didn't want to risk your chances of getting out and getting more lost.

"You've never done that before. Why today?" he asks looking over you.

"BECAUSE!" you shout spinning round to look at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

"I never ever thought you'd comment on my driving in a bad way when it wasn't ... that was my best race to date! I went from P12, all the way up to P1. I had to fight you for the last few laps and I was getting tired. I'm current championship leader and you didn't even acknowledge me on the podium or in the cool down room. You didn't say well done or congrats ... you didn't even look at me so how was i supposed to react when the first thing i can here about my performance from my old mentor is that it was dangerous. I shouldn't have the win and i should have had a penalty for defending from you? I worked my ass of for that P1 Seb and you know it, just because your getting old and the sport is changing so the grid isn't your fucking rich boys club anymore doesn't mean you get to see on me!" you scream the whole time, your throat scratchy once you take a breath and trying to get the tears under control.

"You think I'm old huh?" he asks and your gaze snaps over to him.

"Is that the only thing you got from that whole interaction?" you say with an exhausted sigh, from constantly fighting and you were getting to the point where you were so done.

"Well, you seem annoyed that this ... old man is giving you a run for you money!" he says and you look over at him.

"I'm leaving" you say going to open the door but he stops you.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry look I just ... it's hard getting used to all ... this!" he says looking you up and down, making you cock your head to the side.

"That doesn't give you the right to treat me the way you did today. You embarrassed me too" you say softly.

"Then, let me show you I'm sorry. Because I am" he sighs pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

"W- Seb what are you doing?" you ask looking at him. You eyes widened and he couldn't help but smile. You had these walls up for the past few years, creating this sharp and unapproachable look in your eyes, almost like a viscous cat, but now your eyes were wide and doe like, the way they used to be before Red Bull.

"I've waited too many years for this moment, and I know you have too" he smiles, coming closer to you leaning over the centre of the car.

"I- no i" you try say but a blush covers your face proving to him you really didn't.

"Just shut up" he laughs before pulling you in and kissing you. He tilted your head to the side to get closer to you, and you let him. This was a moment you'd dreamt of for far too long.

You pull back, taking your seat belt off and climbing over to the drivers side to straddle across him.

"If we're doing this ... It cant be a one time thing" you say holding both sides of his cheeks.

"You've always had all the power here sweetheart. It's your move, whatever we do. But I'll be here whatever that is. I promise you! I really care for you, I -" he smiles up at you and you nod. Looking over him once more before making your decision and pulling him back in for a kiss, his hands find there way to your hips pulling you down onto him a little more making you feel everything he had to offer.

"Seb, fuck you!" you laugh as you pull back.

"That was the plan" he smirks looking up at you.

"No, I don't think you've understood how long I've liked you for but we couldn't ... we shouldn't be doing this. If people found out" you said looking at him.

"I'm about to tell you something that doesn't leave this car. 2022 will be my last year driving. If you can wait for me, once I've retired this..." he gestures between the two of you. "Can be something more. But for now, our little secret?" he smiles and you nod feverishly.

Maybe you were still on the post win high, or Seb admitting he liked you as much as you did, not with words but you could just tell from the last 20 minute conversation, but you would do anything this man told you to do right now.

"I'll wait for you, but right now i need you Seb!" you breathed looking over him and his hands find their way up to the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him.

You hands are going anywhere they can, his neck, his biceps, his shoulders, his chest under his team top.

They ventured down starting to palm him through the joggers he'd worn to the track. Groans came out of his mouth that had your mind spinning at the thought that this was actually happening.

You were with Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't even comprehend this right now.

His fingers found there way under the skirt you were wearing and into your underwear where he started to circle your clit. Your head immediately fell into his neck at the feeling trying to muffle your moans.

"Fuck Seb, please" you cry into his shoulder as you start to move your hips to get more friction.

"What sweetheart. You need to tell me what you want. Communication ... I know you aren't good at that but you gotta try for me babygirl" he says and if he wasn't making you feel like a melted puddle of water right now you would have slapped him for that comment, even though he was so right.

He enters too fingers starting at a slow place to open you up and gradually speeds up, meeting your pathetic bounces as he holds his free arm around your back.

"I need more, Seb i need you!" you say, reaching down into his loose pants to feel just how hard he'd gotten.

"Fuck baby, just like that!" he says, his hand comes down to the side of the seat to recline it a little seeing how cramped you were at the your back was close to hitting the horn. He leant fully back, taking his fingers out of you, a groan of complaint at the loss of feeling.

"Go on baby" he says, sucking his fingers off, cleaning what was there from you before reclining himself back onto the seat his arms behind his head as he waited for you.

You pulled down his joggers and pants, his dick having been straining against them the entire time.

You move yourself up, pulling your panties to the side your arms coming either side of his head on the chair as you sunk down onto him.

"Fuck" you breathed as the sting from the stretch had you biting your lip.

"You got this sweetheart, just a little more" he smiles, his arms coming down from behind his head to settle on your hips to help you lower yourself smoothly onto him.

He was on cloud nine right now, he'd always liked you and now having you here was like a treat he'd never had before but became addicted to on the first taste.

You clamped around him at the feeling which released a whiny groan from the man below you. Once you'd bottomed out, you sat there for a little, letting yourself adjust.

"Who knew, I'd win and this is my celebration" you joke looking down at him, and he just laughs back.

"I can tell you, my intention wasn't to have sex in my car with you, I just wanted to apologize. But i cant help myself when it comes to you" he groans as you start to move a little bit.

"I never thought-" you moan in between kisses with him. "I'd have this" you say as you start to move up and down a little quicker. He starts to help you moving you up and down on him with his hands but his hands were starting to shake from the sheer amount of pleasure he was experiencing.

"I don't ever want this to end" he says as he starts to run your clit, feeling himself get embarrassingly close as quickly as he was from how you were clenching around him.

"It doesn't have too!" you smile, pulling him into a kiss.

He starts to thrust up into you, his movements from his hands getting quicker as your bounces managed to keep up. Beauty of being an athlete and having insane stamina.

You both come to your highs at the same time, you fall onto him your head going into his neck and his arms wrap around you to hold you too him so you couldn't go anywhere.

He didn't want you to.

"So... am I still a rude prick?" you ask smiling at him.

"Yeah, but i guess we can say your my rude prick. I'll keep you in line don't worry" he smirks and his words made you nod and blush, before placing another light, yet sweet kiss on his lips, making him sigh happily.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[shaguro]

or!! mutual masturbation with roomie!geto 🫶

‧₊˚TEMPTED 2 TOUCH .ᐟ ⇀ SUGURU G.

⤿ synposis: geto comes home from the grocery store and is met with a pleasant surprise.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: roomie!geto x roomie-fem!reader, mutual masterbation, pet names used, (girl, pretty, baby) geto has a dick piercing (prince albert), fingering, handjobs. teasing, dirty talk. ⇀ wc. 1.6k. | MDNI.

⤿ an. hope you enjoy it twin! ♡

“i got the lemonade you asked for— oh.”

when suguru stepped back in from a quick trip to the store, he wasn’t expecting to come back to this — you on the couch in all your naked glory, legs spread wide with two fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy.

the fridge had been empty for days and with your busy schedules, there was usually no time for grocery shopping. coincidentally, you both were off for the day and when suguru asked if you’d tag along to the store, you declined. he wasn’t sure why at the time but now, his answer was right in front of him.

“s-suguru!” you gasp and within a second, your sodden fingers part from your cunt with a wet schlap that you nor suguru miss. “i . . .didn’t realize you’d be back so s-soon.”

“well yeah, i can see that, girl.” he chortles, his tone oozing sarcasm as he rests the plastic bags on the kitchen counter.

you couldn’t meet his eyes, not when you’re this embarrassed. that little smirk he adorned only made it worse and truly, you wished you could melt into the floor.

“so this is what you do when i’m gone? finger yourself on our couch?” he teases and you clamp your thighs together, a hand in your face in a fruitless attempt to your shame. “never would’ve thought you were nasty like that, (y/n).”

“i’m not.” you sigh so deeply that geto almost felt bad. almost. “suguru, please don’t tease me.” suguru quirks an eyebrow at that. you were making it hard for him to not tease you. ”i’ve been real stressed lately . . just needed some relief.”

oh, suguru was well aware of what you needed. you keep him up at night — your strained moans ringing in his ears, resounding through the thin walls of your apartment until you finally give up, another failed orgasm while suguru tends to his raging hard-on. it’s starting to feel like you’re teasing him.

“seems like you’re struggling with that, hmm?” he murmurs lowly, smooth like honey. that warm timbre had you heart fluttering, all words caught in your throat as he sauntered over, his bottom lip pinned under his pretty row of top teeth. “i can help you out, y’know… since i interrupted you and all that. if you’ll let me.”

he was leaning forward now, your faces only inches apart and you push your shame to the side, finally meeting piercing onyx irises. it’s a no brainer that suguru is handsome, infuriately sexy without trying. there was always underlying sexual tension between you but he was your roommate, why not avoid any potential drama and unneeded issues? keeping geto at a distance and being cordial has worked for this long — but how could you say no to his proposition? suguru offered a solution you’d be a fool to refuse.

fuck it.

“uh-uh, let me hear that pretty voice or else i’ll stop, baby.” suguru purrs. and you’re struggling to breathe, each push of lithe digits into your gushy pussy makes you mewl, helplessly rolling your hips into your palm.

“s-suguruu, feels s-so good.” you moan out, lulling your head back against the armrest. suguru hums prior to cascading wet pecks down the side of your neck, filling you with his thick fingers up to the knuckles, strategically angling his palm onto your neglected clit. “s-so much better when you d-do it.”

“oh yeah? poor baby, can’t even make yourself cum.” he taunts, faux pity itched into his handsome features. you pout cutely and feebly grasp his wrist, the scattered veins pop in tandem with the motion of his hand. “look so pretty like this, just fallin’ apart f’me..”

his kisses trail upwards, stopping mere centimeters from your lips. your lips pucker almost immediately and suguru chuckles, you’re so damn eager for him. his dick twitches when you whine for a kiss, your viscidly grooved walls cling on his digits, coats them in a thin, milky-white veil.

“gotta tell me what you want, girl– hmph!”

tired of waiting, your other hand is on his nape — pushing him down until your lips meet. “shit.” suguru groans, your teeth graze his bottom, nibbling on the soft flesh and suguru wants more. his free arm bends against the armrest near your head, leaning his body closer to yours, prodding his tongue into your mouth.

that’s when you feel it, his clothed erection pressed against your thigh. you can tell how big he is from how it contours on the grey cotton fabric, stretching it to its limits.

you shift your leg a bit and suguru gasps, his body jolting from the sudden friction. he pulls back, a single string of saliva stretches as your lips separate. suguru quirks an eyebrow with a playful scowl on his lips. “what d’ya think you’re doing?”

you chew the inside of your cheek, you eyes flickering between his eyes and his bulge. “wanna touch y-you, sugu.” and you reach down, fingertips dance along his clothed shaft before you firmly grab him. suguru grits his teeth, an airy moan rips from his throat. “wanna m-make you feel good t-too, if you’ll let me.”

what a fucking tease.

suguru scoffs and watches you intently as you toy with the waistband of his sweats. “got some nerve, girl. teasin me like this..”

with your hands this close to his dick, suguru was feeling antsy. throbbing sporadically as your hands grip and feel on him. it’s safe to say suguru can’t handle what he disses out, at all. “if you wanna see my dick that bad, go ahead.”

to his relief, you waste no time, tugging his sweatpants and boxers down in one swift motion while he holds the hem of his shirt up. his dick springs out against his toned stomach, reddened tip just touching his belly button. it was so pretty — perfectly tanned, a shade darker than his skin with a prominent vein bulging on the left side. while lengthy, the girth is more impressive — can your hand even fit around it fully? but that wasn’t the most surprising part. your eyes stop at his tip again, this time widening at the shiny silver metal that poked from the underside of the head and his urethra.

he had a dick piercing?

your hand reaches out, fingers hesitantly brush against the solid jewelry. suguru’s breath hitches, stomach flexing at your gentle touch. “starin’ real hard.. like what you see?” he quips, arching a brow as you nod dazedly, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“yeah.. it’s so big, sugu.” you hum and lean forward, lips hovering over his tip, coating it in a glob of spit before holding the thick shaft, pumping him languidly. “so pretty.”

suguru groans, head tipping back slightly as you work on him. his hips jerk with every swipe of your thumb on his weeping head, glossing over the steel, pearly white precum spread on his slit .his fingers are still inside you, regaining their pace as suguru watches you with heavy-lidded eyes.

he’s so sensitive it’s almost embarrassing, a light blush layers his cheeks, mouth agape as he rocks and rocks his hips into your fist, unfiltered soft pants fall from his lips. he looks so pretty like this and his eye contact is unwavering, only egging you on further.

“so sensitive, sugu.” you coo, your own hips meet his fingers halfway, creating a delicious friction, your eyes nearly cross. “feels good?”

“s-shut the fuck up.” his threat is empty, muttered so shakily, you can only giggle in response. a sweat bead trickles down his temple as he bites down on his bottom lip, unsucessful at silencing himself. “you’re such a- fuck.”

suguru lets out a strained moan when he feels a second hand at the base of cock, your movements smooth and synchronized from all the saliva lathered down his length, shiny and sticky. his body swayed as you applied more pressure to your hands, tugging him forward every pull towards his tip.

oh, he was not going to last.

“i can tell you’re gonna cum, suguru.. it’s ok, don’t hold back.” suguru hates how right you are but it’s obvious — he’s hunched over you now as that familiar coil forms in the pit of his stomach, knuckles white from his grip on the armrest and he’s basically heaving, no longer able to suppress the low whines you force out his chest as your pace increases.

no air left in his lungs to counter your taunting, let alone formulate anything coherent, he relents. he withdraws his wrinkly digits from your cunt, too far gone to maintain any rhythm. suguru was on cloud nine, everything felt so fucking good. his mind was blank, focused solely on the heat inside that grew rapidly.

it was when your hand cupped his swollen balls that the coil snapped, stars blanket his vision as his release peaks. suguru’s abs tense, whole body still as he shoots ribbons of thick, creamy cum over your hand and abdomen, shuddering as your fingers still dance along his tip, entirely too sensitive as he swats your hand away.

his eyes narrow at you while he catches his breath, he can feel himself getting hard once more as you lap up his semen off your hand, maintaining eye contact as you giggle, your eyebrow raised.

“what happened to helping me out-?”

“shut the fuck up, (y/n).” he sneers and in an instant, suguru’s on his knees, adjusting himself between your thighs before tossing one over his shoulder. you gasp when his warm breath fans your pussy, his eyes blown over with lust. you wanted help? shit, suguru was ready to make you cry.

“gonna make you regret ever pulling that shit, baby.. now, lie the fuck down.”

this took me forever to write yall omg. | @preciousamethyst

[porcelana-r0ta]

let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was. 

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM: 

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin. 

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia. 

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option. 

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?” 

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. 

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house. 

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death. 

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building. 

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?” 

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.” 

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl. 

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house. 

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight. 

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!” 

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.” 

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.” 

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms. 

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly. 

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” 

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs. 

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead. 

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.” 

“What did I do?” 

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?” 

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!” 

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand. 

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.” 

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?” 

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.” 

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.” 

Damn, Jason curses to himself. 

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?” 

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.” 

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.” 

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!” 

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.” 

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face. 

Jazz doesn’t dispute it. 

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t. 

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.” 

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!” 

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!” 

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again. 

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.” 

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab. 

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy. 

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green. 

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell. 

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?” 

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings. 

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral. 

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it. 

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery. 

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton. 

“Why are the fucking Bats here?” 

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?” 

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?” 

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.” 

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?” 

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls. 

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating. 

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.” 

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks. 

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.” 

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks. 

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.” 

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.” 

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it. 

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.” 

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.” 

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully. 

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?” 

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X: 

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her. 

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

[reachartwork]

how to write fight scenes

many people have told me that Chum has good fight scenes. a small subset of those people have asked me on advice for how to write fight scenes. i am busy procrastinating, so i have distilled my general ethos on fight scenes into four important points. followed by a homework assignment.

Fight scenes take place on two axii - the physical and the intellectual. For the most interesting fight scenes, neither character should have a full inventory of the other's abilities, equipment, fighting style, etc. This gives you an opportunity to pull out surprises, but, more importantly, turns each fight into a jockeying of minds, as all characters involved have to puzzle out what's going on in real time. This is especially pertinent for settings with power systems. It feels more earned if the characters are trying to deduce the limitations and reach of the opponent's power rather than the opponent simply explaining it to them (like in Bleach. Don't do that). 1a. Have characters be incorrect in their assumptions sometimes, leading to them making mistakes that require them to correct their internal models of an opponent under extreme pressure. 1b. If you really have to have a character explain their powers to someone there should be a damn good reason for it. The best reason is "they are lying". The second best reason is "their power requires it for some reason".

Make sure your blows actually have weight. When characters are wailing at each other for paragraphs and paragraphs and nothing happens, it feels like watching rock 'em sock 'em robots. They beat each other up, and then the fight ends with a decisive blow. Not interesting! Each character has goals that will influence what their victory condition is, and each character has a physical body that takes damage over the course of a fight. If someone is punched in the gut and coughs up blood, that's an injury! It should have an impact on them not just for the fight but long term. Fights that go longer than "fist meets head, head meets floor" typically have a 'break-down' - each character getting sloppier and weaker as they bruise, batter, and break their opponent, until victory is achieved with the last person standing. this keeps things tense and interesting.

I like to actually plan out my fight scenes beat for beat and blow for blow, including a: the thought process of each character leading to that attempted action, b: what they are trying to do, and c: how it succeeds or fails. In fights with more than two people, I like to use graph paper (or an Excel spreadsheet with the rows turned into squares) to keep track of positions and facings over time.

Don't be afraid to give your characters limitations, because that means they can be discovered by the other character and preyed upon, which produces interesting ebbs and flows in the fight. A gunslinger is considerably less useful in a melee with their gun disarmed. A swordsman might not know how to box if their sword is destroyed. If they have powers, consider what they have to do to make them activate, if it exhausts them to use, how they can be turned off, if at all. Consider the practical applications. Example: In Chum, there are many individuals with pyrokinetic superpowers, and none of them have "think something on fire" superpowers. Small-time filler villain Aaron McKinley can ignite anything he's looking at, and suddenly the fight scenes begin constructing themselves, as Aaron's eyes and the direction of his gaze become an incredibly relevant factor.

if you have reached this far in this essay I am giving you homework. Go watch the hallway fight in Oldboy and then novelize it. Then, watch it again every week for the rest of your life, and you will become good at writing fight scenes.

as with all pieces of advice these are not hard and fast rules (except watching the oldboy hallway fight repeatedly) but general guidelines to be considered and then broken when it would produce an interesting outcome to do so.

okay have a good day. and go read chum.

[pomefioredove]

if you're still taking requests for the event could i request floyd with "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" ? ty !

hehe ofc ofc!

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: fic characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, pre book 3, kissing, yuu is very much canon yuu here lol a part of this event

Riddle's noble efforts to warn you about Floyd Leech had fallen on deaf ears.

"And stay out of trouble!" were his exact words, if you remembered correctly.

You'd almost scoffed.

You had already been at NRC for months; you'd fought monsters, solved mysteries, and come out of all of it in one piece.

You could handle a history of magic project.

Sure, this is your first mixed-year assignment; and yes, the project itself makes up a great portion of your semester grade...

...but if anyone had asked you, you'd say that a measly school presentation is nothing compared to what you've already been through.

"Remember not to play along with his antics; it only encourages him,"

Riddle had wasted no time lecturing you about your mysterious project partner the second his name left your lips.

You'd come to him to ask if he knew the guy, not his entire life story.

"Stay focused... and stay out of trouble!"

Trouble. Ha. Every second at NRC since you'd arrived had been trouble.

You walk into the library; like usual, it's mostly empty.

Floyd Leech, Floyd Leech... now, where would...?

"Hey, you!"

You turn on your heels to face the source of the shout; leaning against a bookshelf behind you is the tallest boy you've ever seen.

He even gives off the vague impression of towering over you, making you feel small regardless...

"Man, I almost didn't see 'ya, you're so tiny," he grins, baring a row of sharp teeth. "I'm gonna call you Shrimpy. Now, come onnn, I've been waiting forever!"

You're early. Before you can say as much, he grabs you by the forearm and drags you off to a table.

"Alright, Shrimpy," he says, taking a seat across from you. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Uhh..." you're still slightly dazed. He's got some energy, that's for sure.

Riddle's words flash through your mind.

"...Well, I was thinking we could find our material first, then outline..."

"Reading?" Floyd asks, slumping in his seat as if he'd just received terrible news.

You blink. "...Well, we're going to have to read a little,"

He groans, loudly. A few people in the library turn to stare before awkwardly shuffling away.

"...Nah, I'm not in the mood. Let me do 'somethin else,"

What had Riddle said yesterday? "He changes his mind at the drop of a hat. Arguing is no good,"

"...Okay," you say, tentatively reading his expression. "I'll start with the outline. Do you want to look for pictures instead?"

He's quiet, as if seriously considering the pros and cons of the offer, and then he shrugs.

You sigh. Riddle was just being overdramatic. This is fine!

Floyd becomes lost in his assigned job, leafing through an atlas in search of a map from the time period you're researching, leaving you to your reading.

It'd be an easier job with two people, but...

"You're real quiet, Shrimpy,"

You look up from your encyclopedia. He'd shoved the atlas aside, his eyes fixed on you instead.

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm reading...?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you're the serious type?" a loud, dramatic sigh follows. "I was hoping we could have some fun. I was really looking forward to meeting you and all..."

You have to remind yourself that you have a reputation here. Great...

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm a pretty boring person. Normal,"

Floyd's brow furrows. "Nah, I don't buy that. You wanna know what I think?"

You don't like this. The way he's looking at you, like he sees something you don't...

"...I think you only act normal 'cause you're afraid of being judged. You try way too hard to be a good student and stuff 'cause you wanna fit in here,"

Ouch. You blink, momentarily stunned to silence. He could tell all that just from watching you read?

"I'm just 'sayin," he gives you another sharp smile. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped acting all serious around me. You're way too tense."

"...Tense? I am not tense,"

Your denial only encourages him. A wide grin creeps across his face.

"Yeah, you know. You could feel the stress in this place from a mile away...

...Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

Riddle had drilled you for hours; Floyd stealing your things, making you chase him, getting bored and leaving, a thousand possible situations that could come out of a simple study session...

...This was not one of them.

Floyd grins again, wider this time. "Ahah, never mind. You're way too boring and normal for something like that, right?"

You suddenly feel hot; he's putting you on the spot, and he knows it. He seems to be living for your agitation.

"Hey, that's not fair-"

"Fair schmair," he cuts in. "I gave you a dare, and you can't do it. Happens all the time to you, I bet. It's-"

Riddle had warned you, several times, quite clearly, not to play along.

But... in your defense...

Floyd giggles against your lips, the delighted little noise giving away a hint of surprise. His hands, cold and clammy but nice nonetheless, grab hold of your face, drawing you closer into the kiss. He's threatening to pull you across the table at this point...

...It's a good thing you chose a time when the library would be empty.

After a minute or two, he lets go, leaving you breathless with another smile.

"I knew you had it in 'ya," he says, reaching across the table to pull the encyclopedia back towards him.

"My turn to read, okay? I was getting bored of the pictures,"

[blossomingmoonlight]

⭑ Undercover ⭑

Well I've officially written my first one-shot, a smutty one nonetheless and I hope you like it. I noticed that there are like 0 fics/one shots of daddy Tim Bradford so I took it upon myself to write one.

summary: I used some of episode 7 season 4 where Tim goes undercover and uhm things happen between you.

Warnings: +18, MDNI, vaginal, creampie, handjob, making out, tim having a sir kink, tim being hot as fuck.

Words: 3.7K

tim bradford x fem!reader

It was the early morning of yet another exciting Monday on the job. Only this time you’re annoying yet hot training officer Tim Bradford wasn’t your training officer anymore. Finally you had freedom, even though it felt strange and almost sad even to not ride with him anymore it also felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. You were deep in thought making your to go-cup of iced coffee when a familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Well good morning, you’re awake early.” Jackson grinned in the hall leading to his room. He had been your roommate for about 2 years now and after the academy, joining the LAPD out in the real world, called for a friend who knew what you went through. “Yes of course! It’s our first day of freedom. I’m planning on making it the best day ever so I’m going to be on time and prepared. I don’t want my first day to be a failure, I need to prove to Tim that I don’t need him anymore.” You responded to Jackson while pouring the hot coffee over to the to-go cup. 

“You know you don’t need to prove yourself to Tim, he knows how good of a cop you’ve become. I mean I get it but still, today will be great. I just know it.” Jackson said as he walked up to you and gave an encouraging pat on your shoulder. “So no coffee for me?” He asked, pretending to look sad as he watched you add the ice. “Sorry, sorry I’ll make some for you too.” You laughed. When you finished up Jacksons coffee as well you two walked out to your car and headed to the station. 

After changing into your uniform you headed into roll call while also pretending not to look for your ex-training officer. You took your seat, now in the second row, and talked excitedly to John about the next phase in your career. Some time passed and everyone had taken their seat, Tim as well, but you pretended not to notice his grumbley voice in the early morning. Something you came to appreciate over the years working with him. However you quickly shut up when sergeant Grey walked in. “Good morning everyone, let’s begin today with congratulations to our rookies who are now P2’s. Good job officer Nolan, West and (Y/L/N) it’s not every year that all the rookies pull through. However this new found freedom without your T.O’s does not mean that you’re off the hook, you’ll still be monitored only you now call your own shots. That would be all for this morning, good luck out there.” Grey finished and you smiled at Jackson and John who were both seated on either side of you. 

When you walked out of roll call you caught a glimpse of Tim walking behind you and joining you at your side. “Just because you’re not my boot anymore doesn’t mean that you can slack off now, understood?” Tim lectured as he looked at you sternly. “Of course sir, I wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded with a slight smile, you couldn’t help but think he needed to lecture you one last time before you went out on your own but just as you were about to point that out to him Jackson joined your “conversation”. “(Y/n) we should ride together today, already got it approved by Grey.” Jackson smiled. “That sounds great Jackson, let’s grab our gear.” Jackson agreed and you wished Tim good luck today as you headed to grab your gear. You and Jackson then set up the shop and left to go out on patrol. After a couple of calls that were fairly timid you drove yourself and Jackson to the food trucks nearby where your fellow officers were already enjoying a well deserved lunch. The day went on pretty swiftly with nothing major other than a robbery in a convenience store. When the suspect was processed you got called over by Lopez wanting to talk to you about a woman allegedly adding tiger blood in her skin care line and asking if you could join Tim in interrogating her as you were always good at getting a confession out of suspects and Tim could use a hand. 

You accepted the challenge and headed over to the interrogation room where Tim and the woman would be. The door creaked as you opened it, Tim’s eyes on you as you entered the room and stood beside him. “I’m officer (Y/L/N), I will be asking you some questions, Mrs Carter is it?” You asked the older woman sitting opposite of Tim. “Yes, but I don’t understand. Officer Bradford is already questioning me.” Mrs Carter almost sneered, clearly she wasn’t happy with the situation. “Well Mrs Carter I am here to uh... learn, I haven’t been on the job long and need some experience, so I hope you won’t mind.” You quickly answered, glancing at Tim who was standing next to you, looking a bit annoyed. “I understand that you recently started your own skin care line?” You asked her while skimming through her file. “Yes we’re a small operation but we’re growing.” She smiled proudly. “We’re hoping to get a write up in Goop.” She continued. “I-I don’t know what that is.” Tim looked at you confused. “I’ll explain later.” You told him, putting the file down. “A friend of yours gave us your night cream, she claimed that it contains tigers blood, like, literally blood from an endangered animal.” You stated. “Firms the skin right up.” She smiled, as if this was completely normal. You almost gasped at her quick confession and looked surprised at Tim before you pointed out, “Participating in the endangered animal trade could land you in jail for up to five years.” 

“You don’t understand the wellness game. It’s cutthroat. I need to stand out. How else am I gonna compete with Sloan and her vitamin business? I mean everybody knows that her B-12 rejuvenation pills are just benzos in fancy bottles.” She mused while crossing her arms. Tim gave you an astonished look, which you returned. “Um, she’s selling psychiatric drugs?” You asked the woman. “Oh, the whole ‘westside buffet.” Mrs Carter shrugged. “What’s Sloan’s last name?” Tim exhaled, knowing that this was going to be a dragging one. After some time you and Tim found the woman Mrs Carter had talked about and she was brought in the interrogation room where you two waited for her. 

“Take off your sunglasses, ma’am.” Tim sighed at the woman with the big round sunglasses while she was crossing her arms. “Do I have to? These fluorescent lights give me vertigo.” She asked, annoyed. “Okay well that could be the least of your worries. We’ve been informed that you’re selling psychiatric drugs as a vitamin.” Tim continued. “Who said that?” The woman scoffed, now taking off her sunglasses. “Doesn’t matter.” Tim cut her off. “I’m helping people. What’s the problem?” She expressed. Tim rolled his eyes. “You can’t prescribe a controlled substance without a medical license.” You told her. “My husband is a doctor, it's the family prescription pad.” The woman said as if it was obvious. “Yeah that’s not a thing.” You objected, you could feel that Tim was over it. “Look I don’t think you’re hearing me, this makes you a drug dealer.” Tim explained, now getting more irritated. “And given the circumstances a pretty high level one. You could be looking at twenty years in prison.” He continued. “What?! No, no, no, no, no. This whole thing has gotten terribly out of hand. Who ratted me out anyway?” She stuttered. “It was Aston wasn’t it? She’s been trying to break me down ever since I stole her portrait painter. Like she needs to be hung on a wall. You want a real crime to chase? Aston’s trying to hire a hitman.” She claimed almost proudly. “Wh- What do you mean?” You asked her confused. “Her husband's worth more dead than alive, so she’s been on the dark web trying to hire someone to kill him.” She smiled. You and Tim both sighed and looked at each other, this was bigger than you thought. The both of you knew what you had to do, so with permission from Grey, Tim would go undercover as a hitman to try and get the woman to say word for word she wanted her husband dead. 

After you got the equipment sorted in the van you waited for Tim to arrive in the parking lot with the Mercedes as the setup vehicle, while the van you were in was parked next to him. You heard a car arrive and opened the door of the van to greet Tim who was now parking the car. “Okay, oh... that’s your disguise?” You asked him smiling, he looked like a completely normal man, not at all like a criminal. “This is what real hitmen look like.” He scoffed as he now stood in front of you. “That is not the point. Come on, get in.” You said ushering him inside the back of the van. He sighs while stepping in the van, sitting down as you climbed in as well, closing the sliding door behind you before you took a seat close to him. “What I’m wearing is fine.” He claimed. “Okay, third rule of undercover work. Know your audience. You are not trying to fool another criminal. You’re trying to fool a woman who gets her ideas about crime from Lifetime movies. Put it on” You explained as you hold the black blazer out to him. “Fine.” He said as he almost ripped the blazer out of your hands. “Thank you.” He removed his open zip up hoodie and instead put the blazer on. “Oh my god.” He scoffed, knowing he looked ridiculous. “Yeah, that’s much better.” You smiled. “I look like an idiot. I’d pull me over in a heartbeat.” Tim sighed. “Exactly, because you look the part.” You said while handing him the earpiece. “Alright mic me up, let’s get this over with.” Tim said as he raised his shirt, revealing his toned abs. You tried to play cool but couldn’t help taking a peek as you peeled the back of the sticker part of the mic off and reached over to stick it on Tim’s chest. “It's a little too high.” Tim said as you stuck the mic on him. “I know what I’m doing.” You said slightly annoyed. You checked the mic and waited for the woman as she should be at your location soon, so Tim moved over to the Mercedes, while you moved so you could listen in and record their conversation. 

After some time the woman pulled into the parking lot and Tim stepped out of the car. She pulled up next to him, turned off the engine and rolled down her window. “You made sure you weren't followed?” Tim asked her as he leaned down near her window. “Yes. I drove around in circles for like half an hour.” She said with a smile on her lips. Tim then entered the car as you watched closely, the thought of his toned abs still in your mind. “So, how does this work?” The woman asked curiously. “Well, that's up to you. Your ad indicated you have a problem with your husband?” Tim started. “Yes. I need him to not be alive anymore.” She told him. “Hm, that’s not gonna be enough. We need her to spell it out.” You told Tim in his ear piece. “Do you want it to look like natural causes? A suicide? Homicide?” Tim continued. “Must be a lonely kind of life being a hitman.” She flirted. “It can be.” Tim tried to answer her neutrally. “So you’re not seeing anyone?” She asked. “Oh my god. She’s hitting on you.” You laughed in Tim’s earpiece. “No, not at the moment.” Tim confessed. “You see the thing is the fee varies depending on the method, so I need you to tell me what you want.” Tim tried to press on, only the woman seemed interested in something else. "Ooh. What I want changed a little when you got in the car.” She flirted while putting her hand on Tim’s that rested on his knee. “Wait, is she touching you? She’s touching you, isn’t she?” You laughed again through his ear piece, enjoying this a little too much while Tim is a bit stumped but stays in character. “Look I am down to do whatever you want.” Tim said. “Yeah you are.” You chuckled softly in the ear piece. “I just want the business out of the way first.” Tim continued. “So it’s 20.000 for a straight murder, 25 if you want it to look like suicide.” “Sexy, I’d pay you twice that to kill the bastard.” She said while leaning in a bit. “And the bastard is?” Tim smiled. “My husband obviously.” The woman smirked. “Yes, got her.” You said in Tim’s earpiece. “You know once he’s dead, I’ll be a very wealthy woman.” She smiled. “You’re under arrest.” Tim said while holding up his badge. Finally you got her, so you called for backup on the scene so the woman could be taken to the station in a police car. Tim walked back over to you, you still being in the back of the van. “Well great job we got her.” You smiled as you took off your headset and let Tim in the van. “She really was thirsty, my god.” He said while closing the sliding door behind him and getting in to remove the blazer. You sat across from him secretly watching, hoping to get another glance at his toned chest. Tim lifted his shirt to remove the mic and handed it to you. 

“What is it?” He asked you, shit he caught you. “What- Nothing I- I just waited for you to hand me the mic!” You stammered out, a deep blush creeping on your skin and on the tips of your ears. “Really? You didn’t want a show?” Tim grinned, clearly amused by your embarrassment. “No I did not! What are you even talking about!” You scoffed now looking away from him, but still close enough for him to see your blushing features. “I saw you looking earlier, I don’t blame you.” He said looking you up and down. You were in your own clothes as you weren’t on patrol and you were wearing a white sundress with pretty blue flowers all over it. You looked down at your lap shyly. Then you felt Tim coming closer and he grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “(Y/n) are you attracted to me?” He spoke softly, with his sultry voice. “What- no I wasn’t even- no I don’t- I don’t know... maybe?” You stuttered now your face was really burning, not only from the embarrassment that you were attracted to your superior officer but also from the touch of his fingers on your chin. “So you are.” Tim smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. You however still looked away from his piercing blue eyes, knowing that once you gave in, you couldn’t look away. “(Y/n) look at me.” Tim instructed, grasping your chin a bit harsher but not as to hurt you. You gave in and looked at him, at his handsome features, his stubble, his pretty eyes and his perfect hair. He was almost too much, and the smell of his delicious cologne wasn’t helping either. 

He looked directly in your eyes as well and leaned in closer, the tips of your nose touching, lips a breath apart. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest and your breathing became heavier. After a moment he closed the gap between you and claimed your lips with his. His lips were even better than you could’ve ever imagined, soft and pillowy but slightly chapped as well, which for some reason made them even better. As you kissed him back you felt like your entire body was on fire, you moved your hands from his knees to his neck, holding on for dear life, feeling if you let go, you would lose him forever. He moved his right hand to your cheek while the other pulled you in his lap by your waist, now moving his right hand on your hips as well. The kiss got more heated and his tongue prodded at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, you let his tongue in and met his with yours. At that moment you couldn’t help but let out a tiny whimper between kisses. He softly groaned against your lips and his grip on your waist got tighter, he moved you to be right on his groin and gave your hips a squeeze as if asking you to start moving. And you did, you couldn’t not move, the moment was almost overwhelming as you started moving right on his hard on. Your underwear grew wet and you started moving feverishly against him, and then you moved right over his tip causing him to moan in your mouth. His hands moved from your hips to your ass and he started to move you harder against him, the movements alone could make you finish. The fabric of his jeans and the hardness of his erection hitting your clothed clit perfectly. But much to your disappointment he stopped you. 

“Sweetheart if you want me to finish already you should continue.” He smiled against your lips. “Let me make you feel even better first.” He whispered as you feel his hands moving from your ass to the inside of your thigh, slowly creeping towards your covered clit and moving his thumb over your bundle of nerves. You let out a loud gasp as he touched you, holding onto his biceps when he moved his fingers inside of your underwear. “Fuck you’re so wet for me. All because of me huh?” He murmured in your ear. He moved his fingers right over your clit, pressing a bit harder to see how you would react. You moaned at his touch. “Tim... please just- touch me, please.” You begged, already high off of his movements. “Maybe I won’t, maybe I like it when you beg for me.” He sighed against your ear, ever so slightly moving his middle finger over your clit. “Please just please touch me.” You continued to beg, needing any kind of release. “Please what sweetheart?” At his words you knew immediately what he wanted to hear, something that you realized he might have loved to hear you say for a long time. “Please touch me... sir.” You almost moaned in his ear. He groaned at this and started moving two fingers right over your wet clit. “Good girl, always knows how to address her superiors.” He breathed in your ear, you could feel him hardening under you even more. He then moved his two fingers inside you, your wet cunt almost sucking them in out of need. 

As he fingered you the sound of your wet pussy, your moans and pleas and his heavy breathing could be heard vividly in the otherwise quiet van. “Yes, yes, please sir, please I’m so close.” You moaned in his ear, begging for release. At your words he sped up his fingers, curling them up and hitting that perfect spot inside of you, finally giving you mercy and letting you cum. “Good girl, that’s it. You gonna come for me sweetheart? You gonna cum on my fingers?” He ranted in your ear as the walls inside you contracted while you came, trying to not scream for the whole world to hear. “Oh my god, please I need you inside me Tim.” You begged him, wanting nothing more than to be filled by his big cock. “I’m on birthcontrol so just please fuck me already.” You pleaded, moving your hand to pull down the zipper of his pants and reaching inside his boxers, giving his cock relief. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He groaned against you. You removed his dick out of his pants and moved your hips right above him, sliding your soaked underwear to the side so you could slowly sink down on his aching cock. You both moaned at the feeling and you almost immediately started moving after you grew accustomed to his big size. Holding on to his neck you began moving up and down the noise of his snapping hips on yours and your moans filling the van. He then moved the top of your dress down causing your braless breasts to spill out, which Tim decided to knead. After a few moments he moved that same hand to your ass, under your dress and smacked it hard.

“Oh fuck... oh fuck, you feel so good sweetheart, keep moving just like that.” He grunted, completely enthralled by the feeling of your tight pussy around his dick. “You feel so good sir, just- so- fucking- good.” You moaned as you started moving faster, feeling another orgasm approaching. Tim wanted to fuck you even harder and moved you to your seat so he could put your legs on his shoulders and fuck you deeper which had you screaming in seconds. “Fuck! Tim! Yes! Please, faster, harder please!” You screamed, holding your thighs against you chest so Tim could fuck you deeper. He did as you asked and moved faster and rougher against you, seeking his own high. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum, you gonna cum for me?” Tim moaned, moving his thumb to your clit and rubbing it in sync with his movements which made you snap, an overwhelming orgasm overtook you as you moaned his name, walls contracting tightly around his cock. The tight feeling of your wet pussy around him caused him to cum as well, filling you completely with his seed as he moaned your name. After some seconds of calming down he moved to sit down next to you as you felt his cum dripping out of you

“Jesus Christ, we need to work together again huh.” Tim chuckled.

“Definitely” You sighed contently.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well christ that took longer than I thought but I hope you liked it, let me know what I should write next!

[gracieeegleegal]

Shinning Beauty - Charlie Bushnell

Pt. 2 for my ballerina

Pov - your a profesional ballet dancer and Charlie is your boyfriend

Pairing - Charlie Bushnell x fem!Oc ballet dancer

@yn.ln

Liked by dior.n.goodjohn, iamcharliebushnell, walker.scobell and 27,629 others

yn.ln - last of rehearsals before the show tmw night 🩰 Also HELLOOO? Episode 5 made me cry like a baby @percyjacksonseries

📸: @iamcharliebushnell

Comments

leahsavajeffries - so excited to see youuuu

↪️ yn.ln - even more excited to see you xxx

iamcharliebushnell - genuine question why do you always look so gorgeous 😍

↪️ yn.ln - stoooppp I love you so much 😭

dior.n.goodjohn - YOU BEAUTIFUL ANGELLLLL 😍

↪️ yn.ln - I LOVE YOU DIOR😘

walker.scobell - 🫅

↪️ yn.ln - don’t even I’m still sensitive

leenascobell - so excited to see my baby again it’s been too long

↪️ yn.ln - LEEEEENA MY LOVE

aryan.simhadri - how can you not cry while watching episode 5 is my question

↪️ yn.ln - RIGHTTTTTT my percabeth heart was SCREAMINGGG

↪️ iamcharliebushnell - I can confirm

@iamcharliebushnell

Liked by yn.ln, aryansimhadri, momonatamada and 876,193 others

Iamcharliebushnell - can confirm she actually did cry watching episode 5 and later had to go outside to reflect on it

Tagged yn.ln

Comments

walker.scobell - she’s so real for that

↪️ yn.ln - walker your acting killed me in this episode

dior.n.goodjohn - bet she looks pretty even when she’s crying

↪️ iamcharliebushnell- she looks pretty all the time

↪️yn.ln - mr bushnell u sure do know how to make a lady blush 🤭

↪️iamcharliebushnell - what can I say I try my best for my girl

↪️ walker.scobell - get a room

yn.ln - DONT MAKE FUN OF ME OKAY IM A SENTIMENTAL PERSON

↪️ yn.ln - AND A VERY BIG PERCABETH SHIPPER

↪️ iamcharliebushnell - I know sweetheart I know

aryansimhadri- those cookies look so good 👀

↪️ yn.ln - THANK YOUUU I tried my best

↪️ walker.scobell - omggg I want to try them

↪️ yn.ln - I’ll bring you some

↪️ iamcharliebushnell - walker stop trying to steal my girlfriend

↪️ walker.scobell - WHAT DID I DO? I only asked her for some cookies man :(

i.am.andrew.alvarez - she’s like me Fr

↪️ yn.ln - you get me drew

@yn.ln

Liked by iamcharliebushnell, walker.scobell, leahsavajeffries and 46,788 others

yn.ln - so incredibly thankful of everyone that came to see me tonight. Couldn’t have done it without the support of everyone. Special thanks to my man that no matter what is always there watching me across the room applauding me and supporting me as always. I love you Char 💕

Tagged iamcharliebushnell

Comments

dior.n.goodjohn - AHHHHH YOU WERE AMAZING 😍😍😍😍😍

↪️ yn.ln - stoppppp I love youuuuu

leahsavajeffries - you were for sure the best out there on stage

↪️ yn.ln - I love you leahhh 🫶🏻

iamcharliebushnell - I’ll always be there looking at you from the front row

↪️ yn.ln - and ill always be grateful of your presence 💕 I love you baby

leena.scobell - YOU WERE UNBELIEVABLE BEST BALLET SHOW IVE EBER SEEN

↪️ yn.ln - I love you leena 🫶🏻

user - I love the fact that Charlie always gives you flowers after a show

↪️ yn.ln - IKR! He’s all I’ve ever wanted best bf ever frr

walker.scobell - for someone who doesn’t watch this often I loved every second of it

↪️ yn.ln - awwwww I’m so happy you loved it 🫶🏻 thank you for coming tn

iamcharliebushnell - you were shining beauty tonight, how did I get so lucky?

↪️ yn.ln - ughhhh everyday you say something that makes me fall more in love with you 😍😭

yn.ln - BTW EVRYONE GO WATCH PERCY JACKSON SERIES SERIOUSLY ITS AMAZING 🤩

percyseries - looking like a real Aphrodite’s daughter

↪️ user - ?!?!???

↪️ user67 - WHAT DOES THSI MEAN

↪️ pjofan268 - HELLOOOO

↪️ yn.ln - 👀

@iamcharliebushnell

Liked by walker.scobell, leahsavajeffries, yn.ln and 1,663,394 others

iamcharliebushnell - celebrating this beauties amazing work

Tagged yn.ln

Comments

dior.n.goodjohn - she was Beyond amazing tn

↪️ momonatamada - 100% agree

leena.scobell - she’s so talented omg

↪️yn.ln - 🫶🏻🫶🏻

leahsavajeffries - she’s so ethereal my god

↪️ iamcharliebushnell- why’d you think I feel in love with her?

yn.ln - I love you 💕

↪️ iamcharliebushnell- I love you more 💕

walker.scobell - thank for the dinner man 🙏

↪️iamcharliebushnell- bet ur loving not having to pay for once

↪️ walker.scobell - I really am 😗

@yn.ln

Liked by dior.n.goodjohn, walker.scobell, iamcharliebushnell and 123,567 others

yn.ln - and that’s an end for the night 💋

Comments

walker.scobell - that scream you gave scared me the same if not more that diors did

↪️ yn.ln - LMAOOOOO 😭

dior.n.goodjohn - baeee ur acting skills are on point

↪️ yn.ln - 👀

↪️ percyseries - 👀

aryansimadri - slayed the house boots down Houston Im deceased 💅

↪️ yn.ln - 💀Aryan bby that’s enough tik tok for today

Iamcharliebushnell - 😍

↪️ walker.scobell- we get it now shut up

↪️ leahsavajeffries- walker let them be it’s not their fault ur single

↪️ walker.scobell - yk sometimes I hate u

↪️ leahsavajeffries- no u don’t

[yeoslattes]

Happy Ending Status: Pending

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6.7k

Pairings: Underground Artist!Mingi x fem!reader

Summary: Mingi was not what your family and friends wanted for you. Reality was becoming too real and maybe they were right but you struggled to leave him.

Songs to listen to: Tunnel-Song Mingi, Star Shopping-Lil Peep, Romantic Homicide-D4vd

Warnings: TW! Toxic relationship tendencies, toxic Mingi, smut, lots of crying, slight slow burn, weed use, financial issuesMingi is pretty bad to her at the beginning, he's lowkey a bum, Mingi yells at her once, simp!Mingi, one of his friends makes a bad comment abt reader, Wooyoung is an asshole, reader is a good girl, he's possessive of her, soft Dom!Mingi, oral m receiving, big dick Mingi (lets be real), gagging, lots of spit, slight throat fucking, Mingi holds her down a couple of times, choking, unprotected sex asf, creampie, Mingi cries after sex, use of slut like once, praising

A/N: *big sigh* something about the plot was so hard to write for me lol. I had mentioned that I didn't want to make Mingi too toxic but in the editing process it was almost inevitable so I had to do what I had to do to make it work. He's not scary, he's just a big simp in this lmao. I added songs as well, Star Shopping is what inspired me and Tunnel is what I imagine Mingi looking like in this, Romantic Homicide is for the vibes. Also to clear up any confusion, she's in college bc her parents pay for it aside from that she gets no allowance from them, since she wanted to move with Mingi so bad her parents let her fend for herself (stupid girl). I hope you Pookies enjoy, as always thank you for all the love mwah <3

The bass boomed through the entire establishment. The floor shook, soundwaves rolling up your body. A small smile plays at your lips at the sight of your boyfriend performing on stage. Your eyes curiously watched the girls in the front row who were ready to risk it all for Song Mingi.

The song comes to an end and people cheered loudly, you clap for your boyfriend as he comes off stage pressing a kiss against your lips. “I have some business to deal with first baby, I’ll be back soon.” You nod and clutch the jacket draped over your arms, suddenly feeling exposed now that Mingi had left you.

You take a seat, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, soon enough Mingi comes back looking more pissed than ever. His eyebrows are drawn together with a stoic expression replacing his usual smile. Your face falls, “hey what’s going on?” You ask worriedly, placing a hand on his arm. He shakes his head, “he’s not paying me.” He grumbles, you feel your heart sink. “Mingi that’s not okay-“ you begin, but he ignores you, instead walking towards Yunho and Hongjoong who were standing beside the stage.

Your lips subconsciously fall into a pout, trailing after him. You knew how Mingi was when he was upset and the fact that he was with friends didn’t help either; you hated who he became when he was around them. Walking a couple steps behind them and excusing yourself as you walked through the crowd, you watched as Yunho whispered something in Mingi’s ear. Your boyfriend nods and turns to look at you. “I’ll be right back babe.” He says not even giving you time to respond. You stand alone for a second time tonight. You huff plopping down on one of the booth seats.

You wait and wait, it had been almost 25 minutes since Mingi had left. Your eyes skimmed the crowd in search of him with no luck. He’d blown you off, when you figured he really wasn’t coming back you got up and started looking for him. Your heart felt like it was hanging by the finest thread, one minimal tug and it’d be gone. You spent the majority of your night pushing through sweaty bodies looking for your missing boyfriend.

Everyone sported leather, dark eyeliner, piercings, while the darkest color on your outfit was the pleated black skirt and black tights you had worn, your cashmere sweater being no fit to the aesthetic. Your hands were starting to shake, and your breathing became slightly labored as you continued to skim the club for a tall Mingi.

People had started to notice you, giving you weird looks as you kept making rounds around the club. Your mind began to race, the more you looked the more you felt like the crowd was close to swallowing you up. You spot the exit and make a beeline for it, your tears already falling freely down your cheeks. “E-excuse me.” You mumbled pushing through a couple, the girl looked at you, her eyebrow piercing moving up as she cocked her brow up at your state. Stepping out into the fresh air you finally felt like you could breathe.

***

Your white sneakers heavily hit the ground, dirty water soaking the mid rise crew socks you wore from all the puddles you had stepped in but you didn’t care. You continued your journey back to yours and Mingi’s apartment. You quickly went up the stairs to the second floor, ducking your head as you passed your creepy neighbor who’s eyes never left your shivering frame. You unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind you with a loud sigh. The wooden door creaked under your weight as you rested against it. You feel a knot forming in your throat and you can't help the sob that rips through you. Your legs give out and you melt down into a puddle of tears. Your hand clutches your phone tightly, looking at the absurd amount of times you had dialed Mingi, each one going straight to voicemail.

You numbly pick yourself up off the floor and go into the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror you almost feel bad for yourself; but this was the life you had chosen. Your hair is frizzed up and your makeup is basically gone. You begin reflecting on what your  life had become, the voices of your parents and friends echoed through your head, and you were truly starting to believe that you should've listened to them. After standing your ground against them for so long and always defending Mingi, things were not what they seemed anymore, nothing like the delusions you had put in your head. And so now here you were, heart hanging by a thread as you desperately waited for your boyfriend to come home; no clue on his whereabouts or who he was with aside from his friends.

***

You had met Mingi freshman year of university, you were enamoured with who he was, with the way he dressed, all dark and mysterious yet sweet and cunning. Mingi knew right away he wasn’t someone your family particularly wanted for you, not as a friend and much less as a boyfriend. They hated Mingi’s lifestyle and were confused on how you could be so enthralled with someone like him. Someone who barely made it in college, who was obsessed with making it big in the music industry and would rather focus on that than a promising career. However, the way he spoke about his passion for music made you believe in him and for a second you did, until a couple months turned into a year, and a year turned into 2 and now at almost 3 years barely anything had changed. You convinced yourself it was fine, but reality was catching up to you quickly.

Truth was, you and Mingi were broke, you could barely afford rent and food was scarce majority of the time. Frugal wasn’t even the word to describe how tight you two were with money. You hated this life, coming from a well off family, you had never struggled with money this way. You never minded working to earn your money, but even while working it still was not enough. With your last required courses to graduate, you had to cut back on your hours, leaving only Mingi working full time. The little amount of money he made, he’d spend on music equipment and recording studio fees that he clearly couldn't afford. At some point the little amount of money you had saved up, you had to start using to buy groceries and home essentials. By the time you rechecked your savings you had nothing.

***

Your body cried for sleep, the longer you tried to stay awake the more your body fought against you that eventually you fell asleep on the couch. Around 2:30 in the morning, the front door unlocks and in walks Mingi, quietly looking around for you. When he doesn’t hear any noise he pads further into the room. He’s startled when he spots your sleeping form on the couch. Clearly you had been waiting for him, and he felt terribly bad that he had blown you off at some random club that you had never been to. Mingi was good at being impulsive and acting on his emotions rather than thinking logically. Of course he was pissed that the gig host had ripped him off but that didn’t mean had the right to ditch you; and only now that his cloudy head was clearing up did he realize that.

He sighs and leans over the back of the couch, resting a hand on your arm. He shakes you slightly, slowly you rise from your slumber. You squint, waiting for your eyes to adjust and focus on the person in front of you. When you realize it’s Mingi you fly off the couch, backing away from him. “Ba-” He starts, “It’s almost 3am and now you wanna ‘baby’ me?” He straightens up and throws his head back in annoyance, knowing exactly where this was going. “I’m tired, I don't want to do this right now.” He grumbles walking towards the bedroom. 

Sadness fills you at his dismissive behavior; there's no way he doesn’t care, you thought. Your lips contort into a frown, “Mingi…what is wrong with you?” You say quietly, the knot returning to your throat. You trail after him once again like a lost puppy. He shakes his head, “nothing princess.” But you didn’t believe him. He pulls his shirt off and looks at your small frame lingering by the door. He takes in your disheveled appearance and his gaze softens. “I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have left you there.” He says, his heart feeling heavy at your sadness. You had nothing to do with how his gigs went, therefore, you should be the last person he should be getting mad at. When you sniffle slightly and look down he walks over to you, his large frame engulfing you completely. You inhale the smell of weed and faded cologne in, feeling yourself get drunk off him; and just like that things were okay again for the time being.

***

Not even a week later you and Mingi were caught in a screaming match. “It’s not my fault these places don't pay me.” He argues.” You stared at him hard, feeling your eyes twitch from pure anger. “Actually it is your fault, cause you keep agreeing like a dumbass not knowing what you’re getting into. And you look even dumber buying more recording equipment that we clearly cannot afford.” This time you argued over the fact that he hadn’t gotten paid yet again, while he kept spending money on useless equipment. “Well it is my money.” Mingi retorts desperately trying to find a way to put this argument to bed. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, you felt completely hopeless. “Well if it's your money then you find a way to pay for this apartment, and do everything yourself because I am leaving.” 

In full panic, anger and everything in between you stormed into your shared room. You pull a pink duffle bag that your parents had gifted you and begin stuffing all the clothes and belongings you could fit. You run back into the kitchen and grab a trash bag to throw makeup, jewelry and shoes; everything else that couldn’t fit into the straining duffle bag.

You aggressively wipe your tears, pausing when you spot Mingi blocking the doorway. “Where are you going?” He asks, his eyes slightly wide, “I don’t want to be here anymore” You mumbled, attempting to zip up the bag that was clearly too over filled. He shakes his head, panic rising within him, he comes close to you and you step back. He shakes his head rapidly, “You’re not leaving me!” He screams, making you flinch. His breathing is heavy, tears pooling in his eyes. “Please baby, I’m sorry. You’re right, okay, you’re right.” He begs, big hands reaching for yours but you pull back. 

“Mingi…stop it, I’m tired of the excuses okay? I‘m tired.” You say quietly. You eyes can’t meet his, scared that you were going to change your mind. “I just don’t see us going anywhere anymore…” His brows furrow at your words, “what are you talking about.” He whimpers,

“Stop it!” You yell, he takes a step back startled at your loudness. “Stop acting like you don’t see how shitty our lives are. I need you to get your shit together please.” You wipe the tears that are still running down your cheeks, “Be realistic for once Mingi.” You grab your duffel to which Mingi grips onto the traps as well, blocking you off from the door. “Let go.” You grit, yanking the bag from his grip. He stumbles back slightly. He watches you leave, eyesight blurry from the salty liquid, “you’ll be b-back.” He chokes up. But he actually wasn’t sure about that anymore.

Mingi fell in love with you from the second he saw you, you were just so…you. It was a feeling he couldn’t describe. He always knew the thing he liked the most about you two as a pair was the fact that you were so opposite. He had tattooed his hands and neck with some of the prettiest tattoos you had ever seen. He always wore rings that decorated his big hands all pretty, and of course the staple that was his black polish.

You on the other hand were so clean for lack of a better word. The colors you wore were always as bright as the sky on a sunny day, in contrast to Mingi’s daily color palette. You were like a breath of fresh air, and he wanted you, he craved you. Eventually he got you, the road was rough with your parent’s disapproval and what not, but you two persevered; he got you to move in with him and his plans on making it big in the music industry were definitely going, except he was getting nowhere; it was like a journey with no end.

Mingi felt that no matter what he tried, however he tried it, there was always something in the way. He was paying for studio sessions, recording song after song to release and perform at gigs, and even though he spent loads of money on those studio fees he hoped for the day that he wouldn't have to worry about money anymore. But the process was easier said than done because he knew how tired you were of him not being able to give it a rest. Aside from all of that and being aware of your feelings he always thought you’d stick around for a bit longer for him to show you he could do it.

He saw the way he had drained the life out of you, your once glowy skin had been replaced by dullness. Your once vibrant eyes had turned sad accompanied by dark circles and bags. He had ruined you.

***

Today marks 1 month since you left. Mingi had been rotting away in his apartment, only leaving the house to work, then coming back, showering, eating whatever he could find and going to bed. He had lost count of how many times he had called and texted you. But it seemed that you had blocked him. He didn’t know what to do with himself, he hadn’t spoken to his friends or gone out in a while. He’d cut himself off completely. “Get your shit together.” Your words echoed, your pretty face stained with tears as you looked up with hurt in your eyes ingrained in his brain. 

Mingi laid on the couch, eyes dazed off into space from the blunt he had smoked. When all of a sudden…“Mingi?” A voice called faintly in his head, “Jesus Mingi.” The voice said again except this time he felt hands shake him. He looked at his friend who removed him from the daydream. 

“What the hell is going on man? I’ve been trying to reach you.” Yunho said desperately, “I thought you were dead.” The panicked friend said, looking around with wide eyes at the mess in the apartment. “She- she left.” Mingi mumbles, sticking his face into his hands. Yunho’s face softens, “oh-.” Had he known, he would have approached him in a more gentle manner. 

“I’m sorry Mingi.” It’s the only thing that comes to mind. Awkward silence fills the air, Yunho having no idea what else to say. “How’s it going?” Mingi suddenly asks. Yunho shrugs, “some group that played frequently at Cyberpunk Club got a record deal a couple weeks back. You’ve missed a lot man.” At Yunho’s words, Mingi’s heart drops, of course, he thought. It would never be him, and now that you were gone it didn’t matter to him anymore; he’d given up. 

Mingi sniffles slightly, standing up and adjusting his dark jeans, “I have work in an hour so imma head out now.” He didn’t mean to be dismissive but he couldn’t bear thinking about his losses right now. The dark haired man stands up, a perplexed look on his face. “Oh right, well there’s a party tonight let me know if you’ll be there. It could be good, you know, to get out of the house for a while.” Yunho wears a tight lipped smile searching Mingi’s face for some type of life or excitement but he gets nothing. “Yeah I’ll let you know.” Yunho waves goodbye and closes the door quietly behind him leaving Mingi with his thoughts again. He grabs his phone and dials you again, your call has been forwarded to automated vo- he hangs up, annoyance rising up within him. It was pointless now, you weren’t going to speak to him ever again, he accepted defeat and grabbed the small backpack he always carried to work and headed over.

The strip mall was busy, no surprise as it was only Saturday. The customers came in periodic waves, right now Mingi sat in boredom as a single customer sat in the shop sipping on her smoothie. Mingi rests his chin in the palm of his hand, scrolling through your instagram. You may have blocked his number but you had forgotten him on social media. In that moment he’s about to message you when suddenly a loud cackle catches his attention. He looks up expecting to see a random person walking by, but his heart drops when he spots you. As always you were dressed in light colors, you looked good, you looked better. His heart sinks lower, bile rising up his throat the longer you lingered outside with your group of friends. 

Your glow had returned, you looked so alive and happy; he was selfish so in a way he hated that. This was his chance to speak to you, since you had been neglecting him for so long now, not even bothering to come by to pick up some of the stuff you had left behind. He hops off the stool, smoothening down the apron he wore. He steps outside, the door opening catching your attention, your face falls at the slightly disheveled state of your once lover. 

Your friends all fall silent, eyes drifting between Mingi and you. “Um, I’ll catch up to you guys, give me a sec.” You say, the closest girl standing to you, places her hand on your forearm. “Hey ar-” she starts but you wave her off, “it’s okay, I’ll catch up.” You say plastering a smile. You watch as your friends walk away, when there’s decent distance between you and them you turn to Mingi. 

“Mingi-.” You looked up at him with big eyes, a wave of sadness overcoming you. “Hey, glad to know you’re doing okay. Also didn’t know you had guards now.” He says. He doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding aggressive but it does. Surprise flashes in your face momentarily at his harsh tone, but could you blame him?  

Deciding you didn’t want to deal with this you turn around to walk away but he stops you, wrapping his hand around your bicep. “Wait, I’m sorry. I’ve been on edge.” He apologizes, you nod silently, waiting for him to continue.

“I just want to talk about…us.” Mingi pleads with big eyes, you pause for a moment. Your eyes linger on the clear lid of your coffee cup, when you don’t say anything Mingi proceeds. “I just wish you’d given me a chance to talk it out with you, but you just upped and left.” He sounds slightly irritated, and that’s when you crack, “no disrespect Mingi, but that’s very audacious of you. Every single argument or discussion we've had about this you have told me the same thing yet you don’t bother to change it. My patience ran thin.” 

Mingi tongues his cheek, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking out into the parking lot; deep down he knew you were right. He stays silent for a moment, your words hanging in the air, “I just want you back, we can work on it together.” You shake your head, when he sees you take a step back his hands reach out for you again, hovering above your shoulders, never quite making contact, “don’t leave please.” He begged, people walking by turned to look at the exchange. “Mingi.” You whisper yell looking around slightly embarrassed at the unnecessary attention. “Can we not do this?”

“Come over so we can talk please. At least give me that and I won’t bother you again.” He promises, but you and him both knew it was a lie. “No matter how much I want to get back with you, I won’t until you get your shit together.” You remind him, “and about me coming over…I don’t know.” Mingi frowns at your words, “do you have someone else already is that it?” You’re shocked at the way he jumps to conclusions. “Mingi that is not it, it’s just…kind of weird if we are trying to get over each other.” He rolls his eyes, “speak for yourself, but I’m not trying to get over you. I won’t stop until I get you alone at least one more time. There’s so much we need to talk about.” You wanted to stand on business but for some reason he always had you giving in. You toss your head back, a slight groan ripping from your throat. You nod your head ‘yes’, swallowing hard and meeting his eyes, “okay.” Your voice is airy from slight nerves.

He watches your back as you walk away from him once more; except this time under different circumstances. When he steps back into the smoothie shop, his face drops at the scowl his manager gives him and the long line of customers waiting for their order to be taken. “Glad to know you resolve your relationship problems while on the clock.” The stubby man says to him.

After his shift Mingi flops on his bed, he closes his eyes, the clear picture of your face behind his eyelids, and he smiles sheepishly. You two had left it that you’d be the one letting him know when you were free given your tight schedule. Mixed in with his happiness is a tinge of anger and fear. Anger because suddenly you didn’t have time for him and fear because he didn’t want you seeing anyone else, you could’ve been lying about that for all he knew. He whips his phone out when it vibrates, hoping it’d be you but it’s Yunho telling him to come to the party. He dials your number for a second time that day and when it goes straight to voicemail the slight happiness he felt fades away. Why hadn’t you unblocked him? He wonders. His mind races, desperately looking for reasons to feel better but when nothing comes to mind he gets up abruptly and changes out of his work clothes and into a casual outfit.

***

Now here was Mingi at a random house party, a girl on one side of him as he conversed with Wooyoung Yunho, and Hongjoong. “I heard your ex girl moved into a nice ass apartment in the city.” Wooyoung says, peeling a pistachio and tossing it in his mouth. He looks at Mingi waiting for him to say something but he keeps his reaction bottled in, she didn’t mention that, he thinks. Yunho slaps Wooyoung’s arm, bringing a hand under his chin and waving it, signaling Wooyoung to cut it out. “Sensitive topic I see,” Yunho rolls his eyes as the shorter man keeps nagging on. “Nah it doesn’t matter.” Mingi suddenly says, one of his hands traveling further down to rest on the random girl's waist. Mingi felt disappointed in himself, angry that the girl next to him wasn’t you. But since you had yet to unblock him, he figured you wouldn’t anyway and said a big fuck it to the universe and got himself a temporary distraction.

Wooyoung smirks, “yeah it’s probably daddy’s money.” He says, Mingi chuckles, sipping on his beer, “definitely daddy’s money.” Mingi disses; Yunho looks at him with a confused expression, this was the same man that was crying over you a couple hours ago. 

“Crazy you were hitting that Mingi, should’ve kept her around if she has big bucks like that.” At Wooyoung’s words, Mingi’s face drops, “you better fucking watch it.” He points a finger at the dark haired man. “Who gives a shit man you’re not with her anymore.” He presses on, Mingi stands up and leaves. Yunho shakes his head at Wooyoung. “Shut the fuck up rat, you always ruin everything.” He spits, Wooyoung chuckles, sinking into the worn down couch sipping on his beer, clearly satisfied at the reaction. 

Mingi walks home not taking a second longer to process what was said at the party. He felt icky at the fact that he had even gone. He hated the way they spoke about you, if only they knew how he truly felt for you maybe they wouldn’t have said that. To him you were more than a gorgeous face, more than sex more than anything physical; you were the love of his life.

***

A couple of days after the encounter with Mingi at the mall, you sat on your couch, phone in hand, contemplating whether you wanted to call him or not. You knew how Mingi was, it was clear he was desperate and since you had taken a while to reach out to him the poor guy was losing it. In all honesty you were afraid that talking to him again would have you going back and history would repeat itself. After breaking up with him the first couple of weeks sucked. You stayed in bed all day, dazed off in class and took multiple breaks during your lectures to cry in the bathroom. You missed him so much, and a month later you still did, but you were better; like a heavy load was lifted off your shoulders. You hated that this was the reality you had to face, no matter how much you craved him and wanted him back, it was not ideal.

You sighed, placing your head in your hands, “I just have to do it.” You whispered, hyping yourself up. Here’s my address, just let the front desk person you’re here to see me, they’ll let you through. See you at 5. You pressed send, hands shaking slightly. You felt your lunch coming back up, a pit forming within you. You took a shower, dressed in something cute and casual, why were you getting ready? You had no idea, actually you did, you just liked lying to yourself.

“Good afternoon miss, Song Mingi is here to see you.” The front desk person said into the phone, “that’s okay let him through.” You reply, hanging up and wiping your clammy hands on your pants.

Pounding on your door makes you jump slightly. When you pull the door open Mingi stands there. “Oh hey.” You greet in a breathy tone trying your best to be casual, you pull the door open wider. He steps through, immediately looking around at your apartment that was nowhere near close to what your shared space looked like. “Nice place.” He says admiring the art decorating the walls, and gawking at the view into the city. 

While he was busy with that you took a second to drink him. As always he was dressed in dark colors, you could tell he had messily applied some eyeliner and shadow on his eyes, adding to the grunge look he sported. He looked extremely good, and you wanted to slap yourself. “Thank you, my parents helped me out.” You locked the door and followed him further into the living room area. “Okay Mingi, I don’t mean to sound hasty but why are you truly here?” You looked at him curiously, interested in what he had to say and praying it wasn’t the same bull crap he’d said many times before. “I want you back.” He said boldly, “Min-.” He suddenly stands up, looming over your sitting form, your eyes go wide with surprise, “no! You don’t understand how much I need you in my life. I’ve been fucking miserable since you left. You got me reflecting on my entire fucking existence. Trying to figure out what I can do to fix this. I’m in love with you, you know that already, but I’m convinced you’re the love of my life and I'd be willing to give up my music if that means I get to have you back.” You sat there speechless, your legs and arms completely numb feeling like you weren't allowed to move. The man who always felt sheepish speaking his emotions to you was suddenly boasting in your living room about how you were the love of his life and you didn’t know what to do. He stares at you with puppy eyes, waiting for you to say something, his face falling at your extended silence. You stand up to face him, your soft hands coming up to his flushed cheeks. You watch him melt into your touch, “I know that right now I’m not really worth it. But please let me show you.” He opens his eyes back up, his big brown orbs boring into yours.

Your teeth sink into your pink lips and you nod up at him. You push on your tippy toes and he leans down to meet your lips; you had folded. Large hands come to grip your biceps to pull you slightly back. You fall back flat on your feet looking up at him with that stare that always drove him insane, the very one he fell in love with way back when. He pulls you back in, pressing his lips against yours again, the kiss grows hungrier as the seconds tick by. 

He’s tugging on your sweatpants that were a size too big, easily sliding them off you. They pool at your feet, his hands come and grip on the flesh of your ass, his cold rings leaving a slight indentation on the supple skin. You groan into his mouth, enjoying the feeling of him all over you. “Mingi.” You whimper, pulling away from him to look into his dark eyes, “did you miss me princess?” He coos lowly, you pout and nod all morals gone out the door; you just wanted him. 

You didn’t care about your decision on the status of your relationship or if this would be the last time you saw him like this, that could all wait; what mattered was right now. He pulls you along with him, he freely navigates your apartment, finding your bedroom with no problem. He kisses you again, cornering you into the bed, his large hands cup your face pulling you as close as he could. You grip his wrists pulling them away from your face and pushing him slightly back to take off the bleach designed hoodie he wore. His necklaces fall back against his smooth chest as he pulls the thick hoodie off. He tosses the item somewhere in the carpet of the room before eagerly pulling your tank top off. You sink to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest. 

He looks down at you, the liner and shadow somehow making him ten times more attractive. Your thighs press together, your fragile fingers working over time to get the belt off, the buckle is so thick you struggle to undo it. Finally unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down his cock bounces fully erect from the makeout. His hand slides up and down the expanse of his thick cock, “open.” He murmurs, guiding it between your parted lips.

The sheer size stretches your mouth as far as it can go, you fully struggle to take him in. The longer your mouth is open, the more spit pools. You wrap your lips around the tip and suck lightly, coating him in your slobber. Slowly you take him further until he hits the back of your throat, you gag slightly and he groans. His fingers brush your hair back, watching as you struggle to take him all the way back, “good girl baby. Just a little bit more for me.” He says gently placing a hand on the crown of your head to push further into your mouth. You gag again, tears stinging your eyes and spit running down your chin and neck, soaking the edge of the bra you wore. He bucks slightly when you flatten your tongue to run deliciously on the underside of him. 

The more your tongue runs on him the more spit coats him, he lets out a choked breath at the sudden change, speeding up his hips slightly until your hands delicately press against his thighs to push back. A thick string of saliva connects from your lips to his tip, finally breaking off when you pull further away. You suck in a breath, trying to calm down the nausea roaming in your stomach from your gag reflex. “You okay?” Mingi hums cupping your wet chin to look up at him. You nod and he smiles, you take him back in your mouth, your small hand working on what you couldnt fit. You take him down your throat. His breathing picks up once again, eyes rolling to the back of his head, when you try to pull back he holds you still. The thick head of his cock lodged in your throat. Finally he lets you pull away, leaving you practically wheezing for air. He helps you up and you rest your back on the bed. Mingi hovers above you, his eyes taking you in as if he hadn’t seen this view a hundred times before, but he always made sure to appreciate it. Mingi tugs your bra down the undergarment now resting around your waist, he plays with the hard buds but you needed him now, so you pull him onto you. Ignoring you were still in your underwear you move it to the side desperately, as if you didn’t have all the time in the world. You take him in your hand guiding him into your wet hole. 

He looks down looking where you two would be connecting. Pushing in, you grimace at the slight burn from not having him in you for a long time. You squirm the more he goes in. He holds you down, fully diving into you, “shhh it’s okay baby, you’re taking me so well. My good girl.” 

When he hits your hilt you groan, “Mingi please.” He looks at your already fucked out face. He sets a brutal pace, your eyes roll when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. You moan loudly, panting from the lewd activity. Your mouth drops open, and your back arches, his grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you to meet his hips. Your eyes roll back, nails desperately digging into his strong forearms. One of his hands drops from your waist, his tattooed fingers coming up to your mouth. They feel heavy on your wet tongue, he speeds up dragging his fingers out and running his hand down your chin to let it rest on your throat. Your body jolts with every single thrust, inching slightly up the bed every time his hips meet yours.

Mingi’s mind's going a million miles per hour, but at the same time he can't focus on anything else but you under him. He suddenly feels a wave of anger wash over him. His hand tightening on your throat causing your breath to hitch. You felt so high and far away, his dominance causing another rush of slickness to come out of you. “Listen to yourself. So fucking wet.” He groans, pistoning his hips into you. He was angry, angry at mostly himself, but also angry at the thought of you leaving him and finding someone else. “You’re not made for anyone else but me.” He pants, he was selfish with you, you were his everything, and he wanted to make sure you knew; even if this was the last time he’d get to have you like this. “Mi-Mingi, fuck.” You gasp, he suddenly pulls out and urgently flips you on your belly. He hikes your hips up, pulling the ruined cotton panties down and pressing on your back to deepen the arch. He enters you again, sliding in easily. At this point you felt incoherent, all you felt was him. His cock head hits the spongy spot deep within you, it leaves you trembling and seeing stars. 

You whimper loudly into the plush sheets beneath you, trying to clutch onto something for dear life. “Good fucking girl baby. Take it, y-you’re doing such a good job.” You gasp at his lewd words. You felt so full, like you could burst at any moment, “fucking play with yourself slut. Make yourself cum all over my dick.” At his words  your shaky hand reaches between your legs, pressing your clit the way you liked. You suddenly feel so aware of the sensations coursing through your body, from the feeling of Mingi’s heavy hands and rings on your warm skin to the delicious stretch of his cock, you were close to seeing god. 

“You’re about to cum huh baby?” He asks with a mocking tone, “yes Mingi yes, I’m- cum, I’m gon-.” Your words die in your mouth as he clutches onto your hips driving himself into you, your hands reach back to rest on his pubic area trying to get him to slow down, instead he grabs your wrists and pulls you slightly off the bed. He pistons his hips hard, hitting your spot repeatedly, before suddenly slowing down and focusing on deepening himself, the pressure of his cock nestled against your cervix is enough to send you over. Your vision goes white and your ears begin to ring. “Fuck- fuck.” Mingi moans, he cums, unloading himself deep within your velvety walls. He holds your shaking frame, keeping himself warm in you.

When you open your eyes, your vision is slightly hazy, you squint to focus on your surroundings. You turn your head to look at the man who was still deep in you. His gaze is on the ceiling, still recovering from his orgasm. His breathing becomes labored, he sucks in small breaths looking back down at you, you notice the tears pooling in his eyes. Your gaze softens, “Mingi oh my god.” You say softly, your arms come under you to push yourself up. His flaccid cock slips out of you. You cup his face, turning him to look at you. “Hey why are you crying?” You ask even though you had an idea as to why. He sniffles, looking down at the floor, his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you into him. 

“Mingi?” You insist, you needed him to say something, anything. “I just don’t know if this is the last time I'll see you. Have you like this, and be this close to you. I don’t think you understand how badly I don’t want to lose you.” He cries into your moistened skin and suddenly you don’t know what to say or do. “I love you Mingi.” It’s the first thing that slips out, he looks up all doe eyed. “Come here,” you say, flipping the duvet to slip under it. He follows suit, you ignore the wetness that has now smeared all over your inner thighs. Your head comes to rest on his chest, fingers playing with the stacked chains around his neck. “I love you baby, but please say something.” He whispers, sniffling slightly. “Hey relax,” you whisper, propping yourself up to look at him. Your hands run through his dark hair, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Now here you were laying in bed once again with the person that had once ruined you emotionally, yet you couldn’t let him go. You didn’t know what was going to happen, but that was tomorrow's problem.

Taglist: @byuntrash101

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 6

Read Ding here | ~6.3k words

Warnings: some smut 18+ only, oral, fingering, cockwarming if you squint; angst, car accident, trauma dumping, sucky parental figure. Please read with caution. You might also see one of my cliffhangers.

From me: I feel like the beginning is messy to read--almost like it's out of nowhere? But it's pretty intentional, tbh. I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Hope you like it 💕

Summary: Cupcake and Harry are busy. Harry has his big fight. Cupcake was right about throwing her life out of balance by adding in a boyfriend. They miss each other. They don't know how to deal with that either. At least not while they're apart.

It was not Harry’s fault. Even though he thought it was.

But to be fair, it wasn’t her fault either. Even if she felt it was.

Harry grew into adulthood knowing he was stubborn. Everyone in his life told him so. It was obvious. He didn’t get to be an undefeated champion without grit. His entire gym was named as a near synonym of the word. But she continued to surprise him, and it was clear that he had very much met his match—she was competing for his crown of stubbornness. If Harry wasn’t so mad about his current state, he might even acknowledge that she was winning.

At first everything was new and completely fine. He was enamored with her. Finally she was all his. He took her on a real date—several real, authentic dates. He danced around with her in the bakery kitchen. Brought her food for movie nights in her apartment. (He also licked her when the movie lost his attention, and she looked too good to be sitting there without his head between her legs.) He even brought her bouquets of flowers simply because it was Monday.

She stayed at his place, wrapped close to him. It was as if they had done it for years. When he woke up early for a run, she joined him, assuring him to go ahead and circle back for her since he ran way better and faster than she did. But he enjoyed the way she massaged his muscles in the shower most. (The way she wrapped her hand around his dick most of all.) She made him breakfast before they left for work and Harry thought if the bakery wasn’t to her liking she could open a breakfast place as a second choice.

She chatted with Sarah while he worked out and trained. Without any kind of asking, she helped clean equipment when he needed to focus more on training. She organized his desk in his office because it was a disaster and it stressed her out. Whenever she cleaned, she hummed and didn’t notice. It made Harry fall deeper in love with her. Every moment he was with her was magical.

Until she was exhausted.

He missed her. For the first time in his life, he had felt completely in love with someone. The way he wanted to be in love. He finally had that. They were inseparable. Nights spent cocooned under Harry’s covers. His finger tracing her features in the dark. “So pretty,” he murmured.

“You can’t even see me,” she whispered.

“S’how I know you’re so pretty. Can feel it.”

So not having that for two weeks was like trying to swim through cement.

She had what could only be called a complete meltdown. Frosting and cupcakes everywhere. She was overwhelmed—said yes to too many functions in a row and spread herself too thin. She was frustrated with Harry and his time training and just missed him.

But she didn’t say it.

Because Harry was frustrated too. He tried to help her, but she didn’t let him in. There was the whole not knowing her family—even though she had effectively wormed her way into Mum and Gemma’s heart. Though he wasn’t surprised in the slightest; honestly, he thought his niece liked her more than Harry and she had only met her twice.

So, when she exploded, for lack of a better word, it was magnificent. It was nothing he had ever seen before. The exhaustion in her eyes, the worry on her face, the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Harry was sick with worry and frustration just to hear her cry but was nearly impressed. The cupcakes overturned on the floor were nothing in comparison to the way she cried.

“Cupcake, you are overreact—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” she hissed at him. That was entirely on him. Gem had taught him better than to tell a woman she was overreacting.

“Lemme take something off your plate, kitten,” he tried instead. He was ignoring her frustrated tears even though he wanted to brush them away. “Tell me what’s going on,” he figured it had something to do with her dad because she kept checking her phone and she hadn’t mentioned going to see him in over a week. But her car was overdue for an oil change, and she didn’t want to drive it that far but hadn’t a moment to deal with it. She also complained about something regarding her eyebrows, but Harry didn’t fully understand it because quite honestly, he had never thought about her eyebrows.

But if it meant caring for herself, he wished he pushed further.

Their schedules hadn’t lined up in two weeks. No more than an hour or two alone. She saw him plenty while she chatted with Sarah at the gym while he trained or worked. He and Maeve had started a competition of who could sprinkle the most cupcakes in fifteen minutes (Harry was willing to admit defeat once in his life—he would never beat Maeve) even though she didn’t like that they were having fun when she was stressed.

They hadn’t practiced her self-defense moves in nearly a month.

So, it felt like her fault.

But what she hadn’t anticipated was Harry’s sour attitude reflecting right back at her. Harry didn’t take her frustration lying down. He snapped back at her which felt so heinous to do but he was grumpy.

But he was tired of arguing with her. Tired of feeling frustrated, begging her to let him in when it was obvious she didn’t want to. So, for the first time in his life, he stopped fighting.

It pained him to no end. He could see in her eyes that she was exhausted. It hurt him so badly. Each time he said, “Whatever, Cupcake,” he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world for not taking her frustration away. But she wouldn’t let him in. She wouldn’t let him take away her frustration. It was like she wanted to argue with him. It was entirely unfair, but she was mad about his indifference. It didn’t make any sense for her to be mad when she had just as much blame to take for his sour mood.

“Why don’t you just go home?” She suggested. Bitterness coated every word.

“Yeah?” Harry looked up at her from his phone, his eyes narrowed. She could see his muscles tense like they were in the ring, and she was aiming for his head. “Jus’ leave?” He repeated.

“Obviously you don’t want to be here,” she muttered.

He slid back from the table, the chair scraping against the floor with a screech that made her teeth hurt. “No, cupcake,” he shook his head and made his way for the door. She hated itwhen he said the sweet name like that. She knew it wasn’t her nickname when he said it. It wasn’t filled with the love he liked. It was sarcastic. Mean. It hurt her more than an actual punch would have, she was sure. “You don’t want me here,” his voice was low. She closed her eyes, trying to keep as calm as possible. It was hard because she was anything but calm. But she said nothing. “You don’t want me in your life,” he snapped finally letting all the emotion out that had been building over the last week. “You keep things from me. You build up walls that I can’t break down. Every time I get to the top y’add another layer of bricks.”

She stayed silent.

“Go on, cupcake. Say m’wrong,” he challenged. “Say y’let me in.”

But both knew she couldn’t say it.

It was eerily quiet in the kitchen. The pinch of Harry’s brow made her sad. She wanted to smooth it out with a kiss. “Tell me to stay,” he whispered quietly.

But she couldn’t say that either.

“Yeah,” he sighed and turned. “S’what I thought.”

*

Maeve wondered if her best friend was going to have a heart attack a lot during her time at A Pinch of Sprinkles. The opening in town nearly sent her to the ER. She was running on fumes at the time. Christmas always made her anxious. Anytime they were chosen for a wedding also had Maeve worrying about her medical history. But in comparison, those were nothing. If Maeve had known what not talking to Harry would do to her, she would have told her that Christmas was a tropical vacation.

Harry stopped coming to see her.

“Did...” she swallowed, nervous to infuriate her best friend further but out of care for her, she had to know. “Is... Harry still...”

She glared at the cupcakes she was frosting, squeezing the icing bag a little too tightly. “I don’t know,” she grumbled. She hadn’t gotten a text from him nor seen him in a week after she told him to leave.

Maeve’s heart cracked. “Babe,” Maeve murmured softly.  “He... he adores you... what happened?”

She shook her head unwilling to go over it again. The nights were filled with tear-soaked pillowcases, and she was exhausted from stress and crying. “I just can’t be in a relationship. It’s too much.”

Of course.

Maeve was sick of her best friend’s loneliness. “That is bullshit,” Maeve rolled her eyes. “Did you push him away?”

“Maeve, shut the fuck—”

“Oh, good luck pushing me away, babe. No,” she shook her head and grabbed the bag of frosting from her hands and threw it at the sink to gain her attention.

“I was wor—”

Maeve ignored her words and continued on with her own. “I might not be a boxer, but I can take a punch or two all the same. You pushed him away. Now you’re sulking. You’ve been punishing yourself for so long because you think you don’t deserve to be happy. Harry did nothing but love you and try to help you and you wouldn’t let him—”

“I am going to fire you,” she muttered bitterly. Harry never said he loved her anyway. How could he love her after all that? How could he love her if he didn’t even know the truth?

Maeve continued anyway, immune to her threat because she knew that wasn’t true at all. “You deserve to be happy, and Harry made you happy. That scares you,” she finished.

Angry tears filled her eyes and she ground her teeth together.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Maeve was her best friend and knew more about her and her family than anyone. “I don’t get happy things.”

“But you do. You have me, number one,” she snorted, fortunately. The tension eased just the slightest bit. “You have this bakery. And more importantly, you have a guy that is so crazy about you, he has been calling me every night to make sure you’re home safe and sound.” Her heart fluttered. She didn’t know that.

“Every time I love someone, they go away,” she whispered.

Maeve felt nothing but sympathy for her sweet friend. “You have to give Harry a chance. You have to tell him why you’re doing this. I have a good feeling about him,” Maeve reminded her. For the first time in a week, she felt her body untense.

“He calls you?” She asked.

“Every night.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “That’s nice,” she whispered.

Maeve nodded. “Really nice,” she agreed. “Plus, he’s like super hot. Did you even sleep with him yet?” She blushed at her words and reached for a new frosting bag out of the fridge. “You bitch! You didn’t tell me?!” Maeve screeched. She smacked her arm repeatedly. “Tell me everything! When did you do it? Where did you do it? Harry must have a massive dick, right? I feel like he’s—”

“Maeve,” she laughed. The first time in a week. It felt good to laugh. “I...”

“No, you have to spill. Something.”

Her cheeks were flaming. “I think I’m addicted to it,” she whispered.

“Thank. God.”

*

Harry refused to go back to the bakery for the rest of the week uninvited. His workout sessions were horrific. Louis yelled at him for missing his marks and he felt everything about his footwork was sloppy. The way she ignored him made him feel terrible. But naturally, he didn’t help either. He hadn’t texted her in over a week.

But it didn’t stop Harry from waking up to a call at eleven thirty at night.

“What?” He grumbled. He didn’t want to fight. He was tired of arguing with her and was tired of being frustrated. She would have to do the work if she was going to try and fix this when he needed sleep.

The sound of her shaky breath snapped his eyes open. “Can you come get me?” She croaked.

That did him in within seconds. The vulnerability in her voice. “Cupcake, s’matter?” He was awake instantly. It wasn’t sarcastic. It was her name. The one he used that made her feel adored. It was sweet and made her feel better almost as if he was already at the bakery. He quickly slid into trainers that he didn’t even untie; the back of the heel was smushed down and uncomfortable against his foot, but it didn’t matter. Her sniffling made him insane with worry. It was like the last few weeks hadn’t happened. “Kitten, talk to me,” he ordered. His heart racing and his fear taking over. He wasn’t sure he locked his door, and he was lucky he even remembered to grab his car keys before he descended the stairs to the parking lot.

“I’m alright,” she promised, tears filling most of her voice.

“Y’don’t sound alright.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

“Cupcake, I swear t’God,” he threw his car into drive before it was fully turned on.

“I just miss you. I’m sad and scared. Okay? I’m physically fine, but I’m a mess. I want you here,” her voice wobbled, and Harry felt like he was breaking. “Please,” she sniffled.

Harry felt crushing relief and he watched the needle on Clay’s speedometer lower from a felony charge to a healthy speeding ticket.  “M’five minutes away, kitten. Stay put.”

“Okay,” her voice was quiet, sad but Harry didn’t mind.

“You’re okay?” He repeated. She nodded. He couldn’t see that though. “Cupcake?”

“I’m okay,” she promised, it was punctuated by a sniffle.

His heart felt so broken feeling the anguish in her voice. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered to the phone. “I wasn’t nice,” he mumbled.

“It’s hard,” she whispered. The remainder of his drive was silent. Just her sniffles and the hum of his tires on the road to accompany the small miles between them. Harry sprinted to her bakery door. She was there pacing the front and unlocked it as he approached. Harry dropped his phone right inside the entryway, the bell signaling his arrival, finally.

Within one second of crossing the threshold, she was in his arms. The door only clicked shut once he was around her. His face buried in her hair, his arms tightening around her like he was trying to keep her afloat in the middle of the ocean. “M’here,” he hummed. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart finally slowing after so much anxiety had plagued her over the last couple of weeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he assured her. “S’okay.”

“It’s so hard,” she repeated, herself from the phone call. Harry wished they were home. Even though it was late and private Harry wanted the comfort of her bed or his sofa to let her fall apart. The bakery was warm, but he wanted pillows for her head and blankets for her body to comfort her while she whispered secrets to him.

“I know, kitten. I know s’hard. But I... I adore you, Cupcake. Don’t y’know that? What do y’think all this is between us? I want t’meet your dad. He’s obviously a huge part of your life... and keeping secrets from me? S’not fair.”

“I know it’s not fair.”

“You know everything ‘bout me. S’like I don’t get t’know anything ‘bout you. Do y’think I’m suddenly not going to like you? I assure you that’s never going t’happen.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what I did.”

“What could you possibly have done? You’re made of sugar, Cupcake. You have to let me in. I told you everything. You know my family. You know my friends. You know why I bought Driven and why I have been fighting since I was ten years old. You have kept me out of everything. I don’t even know why you opened A Pinch of Sprinkles. I know you have a dad. You never talk about your mom. I don’t know about your childhood best friend or your favorite pet. There are these walls you keep up and I don’t know why, and I don’t know how to break them down.”

“You don’t eat cupcakes when you’re sad,” her jaw shakes as she pulls from him. The space between them feels worse than the last few weeks without her combined. It’s cold and lonely. More so than not speaking to her. More so than not sleeping beside her. His heart hurt instantly. But not as much as it hurt to watch her lower lip move almost independently of the rest of her face.

“Cupcake, what does that have t’do—”

But before he could finish his thought Harry could see it did have to do with what he just asked about. The way her eyes were shining with tears. It felt like someone clipped his vocal cords. All words escaped him, and he just stared at her as she continued. “You eat them at baby showers, weddings, and at birthday parties,” she listed. Harry stayed quiet. “You don’t eat them when your mom leaves when you’re six years old because it’s too much to be a mom,” her voice was so broken as she spoke. Harry felt her pain in the air. Like needles stabbing every inch of his exposed skin. It seemed impossible that someone wouldn’t want her. To willingly choose to leave her. Her mum no less. She was looking at her hands like they were going to give her the answer to a test she forgot to study for. “You don’t eat them at funerals or when you break your arm,” she continued. Harry wondered who had died and which arm she had broken and how. “You eat them when you get a good grade on your math test or on an anniversary.” Harry’s heart was breaking. He always wondered about the things she kept hidden in her personal life and she laid it out right there for him. In the one place that she probably loved more than anywhere else on earth. “You don’t eat them when you’re sick or sad. They’re for when you’re happy. You can’t be sad while eating sprinkles.”

It clicked effortlessly. Obviously. “A pinch of sprinkles,” he murmured softly. He crossed the space that separated them. Immediately, he cupped her cheeks in his hands, they felt cool compared to the warmth that emanated from her skin. Hot, frustrated tears started to spill over. He swiped at them with his thumbs below her eyes in tandem. He caught as many as he could but there was an overwhelming number of teardrops. It was impossible for him to keep them all from falling in rivers down her face.

She nodded. Her tears continued to spill over, rolling down her cheeks and sliding down his thumbs as he tried to stop them. “A pinch of sprinkles,” she repeated softly. She inhaled sharply. Turning against his hands holding her in place. A new wave of anguish crossed her face that Harry didn’t know could exist on someone’s face—especially not her perfect features. All the art museums he went to in university for his art history requirement made sense. The distortion of features on someone so beautiful was right before him. He understood. “You don’t eat cupcakes when your dad is in a car accident and becomes paralyzed from the neck down because you were too tired to drive even though you were the one that wanted to go to the drive-in and the only thing you can do is bring him to an entirely new town with a place to help him the way he deserves because it’s never going to be enough to thank him or repay him or—” the words were cut off by sobs that she could no longer control. Her heart was breaking right in front of him.

Harry knew how to fight. He knew how to stand with poise and grace that no one would expect a boxer to have. He knew how to throw punches that could knock a grown man out in one hit. The correct form to kick was ingrained in his mind from when he was ten years old.

Harry didn’t know how to begin to fight her sadness.

“Cupcake,” he whispered. She covered her mouth and the noise that came out of her body was so sad, so broken. Harry wondered how she could still be standing. Harry always thought he was pretty tough. That stubborn nature of his thought he was one of the toughest people in a room.

But he wasn’t. Not even close.

The pretty, sweet girl who was constantly covered in sugar and frosting—she was the strongest person he knew.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what she went through—how she still coped with it. It was a miracle she got in a car ever again. She was braver than he ever was or could be. “And he doesn’t hate me,” she whispered through her sobs. “My mom left him because of me. He is in a wheelchair and unable to live a normal life because of me.”

“Kitten,” he warned worried she would work herself up too much beyond his ability to help her. Harry was an idiot for making her feel this. He couldn’t leave well enough alone. If he only knew...

“Why doesn’t he just hate me?” She whimpered and Harry finally pulled her into his embrace. Her tears immediately soaked his shirt. She got snot all over him and Harry just kept her close to him he let her cry for longer than he ever wanted her to, but it felt good to hold her again. Regardless of the pain.

“How could anyone hate you, Cupcake?" he asked after a minute.

“I hate me,” she whispered. The question was rhetorical, but she responded anyway.

He kissed the top of her head. “If I had a kid like you... S’not anything I wouldn’t do for them. Your dad doesn’t regret that.”

“Of course he does,” she sniffled. “I couldn’t even take care of him.”

“It wasn’t your job, Cupcake.”

“But it was my faul—”

“Take me t’meet him,” he interrupted.

She blinked, confused. “What?”

“Take me to meet him. Y’go every week, yeah? Take me,” he asked. She felt so vulnerable. Her heart felt heavy.

“Meet him?” She whispered. Harry didn’t even comment that she repeated him again.

He nodded. “He saved your life for me, Cupcake. M’sure of it. S’least I could do t’meet him.”

Her heart felt something dangerously close to hope enveloping it. It was too good to be true. Her dream job, a cute apartment, a best friend, and the perfect guy. “You don’t hate me?”

He scoffed and buried his face in her neck. He missed her smell—vanilla and sugar (although he wasn’t sure that was truly her natural scent but merely from spending so much time in the kitchen). He missed her voice and the warmth he felt just holding her in his arms. “Christ, Kitten. Course not.”

“But I was so... awful. And I... I ruined his life. I'm cursed or something. I'll... I'll ruin your life too.”

"Sweetheart," he cooed. "Y'don't really believe that, do you?"

"I'm not a good luck charm, Harry."

"You are, Cupcake. You are the luckiest thing s'ever happened to me."

She looked at him miserably. "I've done nothing but made your life confusing and hell."

He pulled back a little so he could get a clearer look at her face. He smiled. The first genuine smile he felt in a week. “I can take a punch every now and again,” he promised. “Think Louis would say I could be knocked down a peg or two every once in a while,” he winked.

It wasn’t fixed. But she looked slightly less broken. She felt a little more whole. Harry’s smile did wonders for her.

*

The next day, Harry stood in the hall outside of the dining room. Other residents were in various activities, but her dad sat in his chair, slumped slightly, and he smiled at her entrance.

“Dad,” she said softly sitting across from him.

“Busy week you had it seems,” he smiled.

She blushed. “I know. I’m so sorry. I should have called. It was one thing after another—it’s no excuse I should have been here, and I was—”

“Honey,” he shook his head slightly, one of the few movements he retained from the crash. “You’re living a life. It’s okay.”

Her heart broke to see him in his chair. Unable to live the same kind of life.

“I... brought... something.”

“Something or someone?”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t see a cupcake box, so this must trouble,” he joked, smiling brightly.

“Harry is here. He wanted to meet you,” she explained.

“He wanted to? What about you?” He asked. She looked at him nervously. Her eyes said everything she didn’t say out loud. Her dad continued to smile. “Well, it’s about time, honey.”

She rolled her eyes and waved him over. Harry hurried, stepping right beside his wheelchair. Without hesitating, he grabbed her dad’s limp hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” he said shaking it firmly with both hands. When the handshake was through, Harry ever so gently placed his hand back on the arm rest of his chair.

Her dad smirked and winked at the sweet girl. “I’d offer you my seat, Harry, but I’m afraid I’m stuck in it.”

“Jesus Christ,” she covered her hand over her eyes.

Harry chuckled, taking the seat on the side of the table between them. “No problem, sir,” he assured him, taking the joke in stride. Adoration for them both squeezed around her heart. “Cupcake, do y’mind getting us some water?” She blinked in surprise. Normally, Harry wouldn’t let her lift a finger.

“Oh... um... sure,” she said and hurried off to find a nurse to help.

“Cupcake?” Her dad repeated.

“Yes, sir. She’s quite sweet like one,” he smiled gently. Her dad stared Harry down for a moment. Not maliciously. Just watching. Waiting. If they were in the ring, they would have been eyeing one another waiting for someone to make a move.

Her dad made the first one. “She said you wanted to meet me.”

Harry nodded. “I adore your daughter. With everything in me. M’going t’protect her every moment of every day. I wanted you t’hear that from me. I wanted you t’know that.”

“She can be a little feisty sometimes,” he warned, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

“M’aware,” he didn’t want to tell him about their stalemate over the last few weeks. That didn’t matter anymore and it wouldn't paint either of them in a good light.

“She said you have a big match coming up.”

He nodded. “Yes, sir. Biggest one of m’career.”

“Think you’ll win?” He asked.

Harry was confident. But he didn’t like to let his confidence overinflate his chances or make himself sound presumptuous. Anything could happen. But he was going to try his hardest and best. That would be good enough for him. “I believe so. I’ve worked hard for this. I want it more than most anything,” he promised.

“Most?” Just like his daughter, he caught the key word.

“Most,” he repeated. There was a significant pause as Harry considered his next thoughts. The words he didn’t want to explain but what he wanted her dad to know anyway. “Did she tell you about Jack?” Harry asked quietly.

The name didn’t ring a bell. He shook his head. “No. She doesn’t always tell me everything.”

Harry smiled sadly. “At least she’s consistent,” he murmured. “My manager Louis and I teach self-defense classes... she joined one several months ago,” he let another pause tell her dad the words he didn’t want to say. The story he probably shouldn’t be telling him in the first place. “M’confident she could protect herself. But m’hoping she won’t ever have to. M’going t’keep her safe,” he assured him. “I promise.”

He could only imagine the wave of emotions that took over his brain. Harry obviously wasn’t a father, but he didn’t need to be one to know he would murder someone for his daughter. Paralysis or not. “And you?” He asked quietly. Digesting the bit of information Harry alluded to.

“Me?” Harry repeated.

“Are you going to hurt her?”

“Never,” he assured him. “I’d... I’d take a bullet for her,” he promised.

“Speaking from experience, that might hurt her more than just letting her take the bullet,” he chuckled and winked. Harry snorted but nodded.

“Understood.”

She returned with three glasses of water and an extra long straw for her father. “You guys sharing war stories about me?”

“I was jus’ ‘bout t’tell him how you’re trying t’fatten me up with raspberry lemon filling,” Harry stood and held her chair out for her to sit.

“You are more than capable of saying no to cupcakes, Harry.”

“I beg to differ, honey. It’s a sin to say no to them,” her dad smiled. “A sin to say no to you,” he winked again.

*

Their reunion in Harry’s home was carnal to say the least. Harry missed being inside her. He wanted to fall asleep with her wrapped around his dick. Harry had spent many years of his teens taking care of his own sexual needs and yet somehow the weeks apart from her were worse than all those years combined.

Perhaps it was the noises she made. Begging Harry for a release. Her body craved his. It felt like a part of her had been missing for the duration of their silly stalemate. It may have only been a few weeks, but it was a few weeks without orgasms made possible by Harry’s mouth, fingers, and dick.

“I wanna stay inside you the rest of m’life,” he moaned into her ear in the middle of the night. They would both be tired in the morning. Louis would probably hate her (even though Harry assured her that was impossible) but it was worth it.

*

They started going over her self-defense moves again in between dinner and TV shows. Harry was encouraging. Making sure she followed the right move and not her instinct. Correcting her form and making sure she knew he would always be there for her. She told him more secrets that made Harry feel so whole.

She watched him train. Harry walked her to her car after falling asleep on the table in the bakery kitchen. They hadn’t spent a night apart since Harry met her dad. They fell asleep watching a movie or show nearly every night. Harry would simply lift her in his arms and carry her to the bedroom. She would coax him out of his slumber and snuggle up to him as they made it to a more comfortable position in bed.

That was the case one week prior to Harry’s big fight.

He had fallen asleep in her lap (after he had lazily brought her to orgasm with nothing more than stroking his finger messily around her clit. Simply because he could and thought her sleep shorts looked lonely without his hand inside them). Now he had an arm wrapped around her waist, face nuzzled against her T-shirt. “I love you, Cupcake,” he mumbled sleepily. She ignored it. Thought that maybe he was asleep because surely someone so big and strong—someone so scary yet boyish—couldn’t love her after all she put him through. No matter how good her mouth was on his dick. “Hear me, kitten?” He asked rolling to look up at her.

She smiled, blushing. “I heard you, thought you were sleeping.”

“Well, I love you in m’sleep, too,” he turned again, rubbing his nose against her shirt. She giggled, rubbing her fingers through his hair and massaging scalp. She was so enamored and so surprised she felt speechless. “So you’re supposed t’say it back,” he turned and looked up at her. “Unless...y’don’t feel the same way...or I said it too soon or something and it’s—”

“Oh no way,” she assured him. “I love you very much,” she laughed and brought her face down to his and kissed him.

*

The morning of his fight, they woke up early. Harry headed into the shower, and she followed right behind him. With a sleepy smile he enjoyed the feel of her mouth on him as he always did, gripping her hair in his hands while he thought about how a $100,000 would change his life and allow him to spoil her.

But after a healthy breakfast (and another blowjob from beneath the table while he ate because she simply thought he deserved a relaxed morning) there was no use denying it.

Harry was grumpy.

By the time they got to Driven, he snapped at her a few times (more than a few times) and she took it like a champ. In fact, she was planning on ignoring it entirely. It wasn’t his fault. Stress was natural on a day like today. His warmup wasn’t supposed to be heavy the day of a massive fight like this even though he tested Louis’ patience to no end.

“Again,” he snarled at Louis. Louis looked at her for support.

“Baby, you need—”

“I said, again. I know what m’doing,” he growled ignoring her.

Louis let him have one more round of practice. But it was Louis’ comments on his attitude that he found her around lunch time in his office setting up a light lunch from one of his favorite restaurants nearby. Tail between his legs. “M’sorry I snapped, kitten. S’jus’ the nerves.”

She smiled. “I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“S’not okay, though.”

She shook her head grinning at him. “I’ll yet at you later when you eat the frosting off my cupcakes.”

He nodded. “M’gonna hold you to that,” he promised.

“I know it’s silly to say. But don’t be nervous. You’re going to win, I can feel it,” she assured him and draped herself in his lap while he ate his carrot sticks.

“Course. M’good luck charm will be there,” he brushed his finger on her cheek.

“You know, I hate when you get hit. It's been my least favorite part of this whole experience.”

He shrugged. “So, I won’t get hit,” he smiled knowingly.

She laughed. “I don’t think I’m much of a good luck charm when you were already undefeated when I met you,” she reminded him.

He felt everything soften in him. The tenseness, the anger, and the frustration all disappeared. “Oh, kitten,” he shook his head. “You have been m’good luck charm for so much more than boxing matches.”

*

Louis was ready to explode with anger. Part of her wondered if he had ever followed through on his threats of getting in the ring to throw punches at Harry. She thought it might be cathartic for him. Before she can blink, the introductions are over. The sound of the bell chimes through the arena room.

Ding

Round one was over and she was holding her breath so she seriously considered the idea that she had blacked out and missed it. But Niall had murmured to her that he didn’t get hit once and she felt so proud, so excited. The kind of money Harry was going to win would do incredible things for his life. Maybe in addition to holding her breath, she had squeezed her eyes shut and turned to Niall.

His opponent was big, strong. He wasn't facing Harry because he wasn't good. It terrified to think the kind of damage an opponent like him could do to him.

“Looks like he forgot extra towels,” Niall murmured to her bringing her back to reality. She could see the irritation in Louis’ eyes and Harry holding his hands up with the gloves. How did y’expect me t’grab them? She could imagine him grumbling back only further irritating Harry. There was enough for the time being but she knew they would go through a stack of them in no time at all.

“I’ll get them,” she offered standing waving at him in some silent sign language neither discussed but Louis knew what it meant. He looked the slightest bit more relaxed by her standing. Part of her thought for the first time in their relationship he didn’t hate her. Even though Harry assured her repeatedly that he didn't. (He was utterly kind to her throughout the self-defense classes and when Harry reminded her of such, she alluded to the fact that she paid for that kindness.)

“Cupcake, you’re the best,” Niall squeezed the back of her arm as he stayed put. “Want me to come with you?” He asked.

“No, I got it,” she smiled. “I’m going to use the bathroom and hit the concession stand too. So, if I’m not back at the end of the next round I didn’t fall in the laundry basket,” she promised. Niall chuckled and waved her off.

After going to the bathroom and making her way back to the locker room, flashing her badge around her neck, she found the extra towels laid out. The noise was deafening—even from inside the locker room. She grabbed an armful's worth and made her way toward the entrance to the arena.

When she turned around, the last person she ever thought she’d see was waiting just inside the door. The volume behind him hadn’t changed. But she swore in that moment, the crowd, the bell, the thudding of her heart, everything got louder.

She knew he was trying to intimidate her just by standing there. There wasn’t a single person around. Everyone was in that arena. Her legs felt like lead, but she walked forward anyway. The towels in her arms provided extra space between them as she started to walk right past him. “Excuse me,” she muttered.

He’s just trying to intimidate me. She repeated to herself.

“Round two is about to begin!” She heard announced from behind the door followed by a delighted cheer.

It was nothing.

Jack was just trying to scare her. She hadn't done anything wrong.

All she needed to do was walk by him confidently. Then she would watch Harry win life-changing money. She was home free. Leaning into the door, the metal bar squeaking as it released the hold on the frame to let her through to the main room.

But at the last second, the towels fell from her arm in a heap as he grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the door. “I don’t think so.”

Round two was starting.

Ding.

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[billthedrake]

This is kind of a bisexual-content retelling of my Senior Week story, inspired by @pagespermer 's posts, as well as some hetero porn stories.

ODD MAN OUT

It was a joke at first. The guys on the team having guy talk, talking about the hottest moms in our friend circle. Apparently my mom was a MILF in the top 3 of fuckable moms in our high school. I felt like I should take umbrage, but I was already odd man out on our lacrosse team and maybe desperate to fit in.

Besides, Tate's mother was the main object of the leering jokes. Mrs. Walsh wasn't a typical MILF, she was like a hot sorority girl who refused to act her age. Big tits, bleach blonde hair, lots of make up, skin-tight jeans and skimpy tops. And, I don't know, she kind of doted on her jock son. Even though Tate was a senior, a tall strapping defender who was definitely scholarship material, Mrs. Tate doted on the poor guy. Showing up at all the games and hugging him after, planting a kiss on his cheek, that kind of thing.

Tate would blush and take the ribbing from the guys after.

It was consensus that Mrs. Walsh was hands-down number one fuckable mom. Like, not even a close contest. Even Tate stopped objecting when we started talking about how hot Mrs. Walsh was, and he'd shrug and admit that yeah, his mother was a real MILF.

Still, it caught us off guard one night we were partying at TJ Evanchick's place when his parents were out of town. He'd been busted for having a big party once before, so it was just four of us - me, TJ, Tate, and Mac Baroni, an attacker on the team and a dude who I thought was a complete douche at first but who I'd gotten to become friends with. It was Mac who brought me into the circle of these guys over senior year.

"Truth or Dare?" Mac asked. It was Tate's turn.

Walsh took a swig of hard seltzer and shrugged. "I dunno. Truth, I guess."

Mac got a naughty grin and asked. "Ok... you ever fuck your mom?"

It was our running joke of course. Maybe because Tate didn't seem put off by all the hot mom talk. It just egged us on to talk about banging Mrs. Walsh.

But even Mac was caught by surprise when the hunky defender got a naughty smirk of his own. "Truth, right?" he asked. Tate was probably the most conventionally good looking of us all, and if I even let my lust drive to the guys on the team he was the one I was most attracted to. Brown hair, soulful brown eyes, perfect smile, and just a killer bod, tall and built at 6'5". "This fucking stays between us," he warned.

"Oh shit," TJ exclaimed. He was saying what we were all thinking. There's no way that Tate and Mrs. Walsh could be...

"Yeah, I've fucked Mom."

In any other context we would assume it was a joke, but from the forced bravado on Tate's face and the darting look in his brown eyes, I could tell, we all could tell, the guy wasn't bullshitting.

"When, how?" Mac stammered. Then. "Fuck!"

That got a laugh out of Tate. "You have to wait till my next turn, fuckers." I could tell he was enjoying our stunned reaction. He turned to me. "All right, Mullins... Truth or Dare."

I thought for a second. "Dare."

Tate smirked. "Suck Evanchick's cock."

"Fuck no!" TJ interjected. His face grew red, and he shot me a contrite look before confronting Walsh. "Dude, that's way fucking out of line."

Tate held up his hands. "OK, OK, sorry, bro," he said to me. "That was a dick move..." he took a drink and thought for a second. "All right... three tequila shots. In a row."

My tolerance wasn't quite with these guys, but it was more than a high schooler maybe should have. I'd be hammered, but if I kept my wits about me I'd pace myself after. "Line em up," I said.

TJ picked up a shot glass and poured one. I tossed it back, pretty easy. The second one went OK, too. I had to pause for the third, my head feeling tipsy already. "Fuck it," I said, and drank that one too.

I was gonna be fucked-up drunk. Good think I was crashing at TJ's. "Truth or Dare," I slurred to Teej.

"Truth," he said.

"You ever fuck an older woman?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. Total bucket list though."

Tate hissed. "Dude that was a fucking layup question."

Mac laughed. "Not all of us are motherfuckers like you Walsh."

Tate shot him the middle finger but laughed. I could tell he was strangely proud of his incestuous conquest and maybe relieved he'd shared it with us.

TJ turned to Mac. "Truth or Dare."

Mac leaned back in the chair. He'd been bulking up a lot lately and had some beefy genetics to work with. The result was more of a football player-like build that showed underneath his loose T-shirt. "Dare," he said with a "bring it" attitude.

TJ grinned. Even if he was a senior, the midfielder still had a young look to him: dimples, baby fat clinging to his cheeks, shorter frame. "All right... go in the other room and jack off to a picture of Mrs. Walsh."

Mac laughed, then pushed his chair back from the table. "You got it."

Tate shook his head. "Don't you need a picture first, doofus?"

TJ grinned. "Mac has a couple on his phone."

"You assholes," Tate said. "Is Luke the only guy not perving on my mom?"

"Pretty much," Mac said. Already he was walking behind Tate to make his way to another room.

Tate got a real naughty look on his face. "Dude... I have some better pictures if ya want..."

That stopped Mac in his tracks. "Shit... for real?"

Tate was blushing now, but that didn't stop the big jock from pulling out his phone and finding a hidden photo album. He swiped a couple of times and handed it to Mac. "For your eyes only, bro."

Mac's eyes went wide. "Fuck! OK, yeah... this isn't gonna take me long at all." He almost scurried out and down the hall.

TJ seemed flustered and horny now. "Dude, we gotta wait to get the fucking details? Come on!"

Tate looked over at me. "You OK with this Mullins?"

"Yeah," I said. "Doesn't faze me." It was crazy as fuck of course, but it wasn't my mom. And between porn and some exploratory times getting head from dudes, I was very much open to sexual self-discovery. Most of all, I loved how this secret was a bonding time between us.

My answer seemed to satisfy Walsh. "I won't tell you how long it's been going on, but yeah, we're having sex pretty regular now."

TJ's face grew pale and I thought he was getting freaked out, but it turned out that was him growing hornier at the idea. "Like, how regular is regular?"

Tate got a sly look on his face. "Bro, like every fucking day. I'm pretty sure Dad knows, too... it's fucking wild." He paused and looked intently at TJ, who I gather he trusted less than me. "Not a fucking word to anyone about this, right?"

"Scout's honor," Evanchick said, crossing his heart. "I'm just impressed, bro. You're living the dream."

Tate leaned back, a little calmer now. "You ever think about doing your mom, Evanchick?" Mrs. Evanchick was not on the fuckable moms list. She was, I dunno, just a normal mom.

"Yes and no," he admitted. "Sometimes when I jack off I go there. But in reality it would probably be too weird and fucked up."

Tate nodded. "It's totally weird and fucked up, dude." Then leaning back in, he said, "But damned if that doesn't make getting your dick wet in your own mother's pussy even hotter."

Just then Mac walked in, face flushed. He handed Tate his phone back. "Walsh, I owe you SO much for that just now... I mean... WOW!"

"Can I see?" TJ piped in. He saw Tate's hesitation. "Come on, Walsh... pretty please..."

Tate relented and pulled up the picture again before sliding it to TJ. "You want a look too, Mullins?" he asked. Not pointed or hostile, but genuinely curious.

"Nah, I'm good," I said with a drunken shrug.

Mac sat back down and took a drink. "I know you keep clammed up around us, Luke... but you ever make it with an older dude?"

I nodded, not sure how far I could go. "Sometimes, yeah," I admitted. "I think I prefer em older, actually."

"Yeah?" Mac asked. "What's the equivalent of a MILF?" Maybe Mac was the stereotypical dumb jock.

"Um, a DILF," I replied as diplomatically as I could.

That got a big laugh out of TJ. But instead of chiming in he got out of his chair. "I need a minute with Mrs. Walsh fellas."

Tate wasn't offended as TJ took his phone and walked into the other room like Mac just had. I think he was proud of showing off his hot mom.

"So... you're into DILFs, Mullins?" Tate asked.

I was. But I didn't want to get into my daddy issues. Still, my reply was the truth. "Yeah... they're really into young dudes like me. You can kind of have your way with them, actually." I was drunk now and that's probably why I was opening up.

"For real?" Tate responded. "Shit!" Then, "Good for you, bro."

"Yeah," Mac said. He was a macho dude, like most of the guys on the team, but the gay thing didn't phase him as much I expected. But he chimed in, "But can we set a new rule? No talking about who has the most fuckable dad, OK?"

"Bro, you're the one who brought it up," I reminded him.

"Touche," he said.

"You speak French now, Mac?" Tate teased. He could be an asshole, but I had to laugh.

***

It was inevitably going to happen, and maybe deep down I knew it. But it was early June and we were two weeks away from graduation. The guys on the team had somehow become even tighter lately, maybe because we'd all be going off to different colleges. Add a good dose of senioritis and the shorter leash our parents had on us, and we were partying several nights a week. We couldn't drink or get high around Evanchick's parents, but even my folks were OK with it as long no one drove. It was a real sign of something that none of the dudes made a crack about sleeping over in my bedroom.

Friday night was at Tate's house. The Walshes were pretty loaded and had a sweet backyard with a pool. That's where Mrs. Walsh found us when she came in. She was still dressed in a skirt and business attire blouse. Tate's mom was a realtor. Hell, maybe she was a good businesswoman, but those tits had to have sold half of the houses she put under contract. Even with a professional blouse, she was buxom as hell. It was pretty late in the evening and she'd probably stopped for wine with her friends or something, she just had that relaxed look about her.

"Tate," she said. "I don't want you boys in the pool, OK?" She was in Mom mode, and it didn't take me long to figure out why. We were pretty buzzed and White Claw cans were strewn around. And Evanchick had just done a cannonball into the deep end.

"Yeah, OK, Mom," Tate said, embarrassed some but he looked at us and shrugged.

"Where are my manners?" Mrs. Walsh said. "Hello Luke, Evan... Mac..."

"Hello Mrs. Walsh," Mac said dumbly. I didn't know how straight guys were wired, not really, but I had a good sense of what was going through his mind then. He'd seen a picture of Mrs. Walsh's tits, maybe more. It was impossible for him to get THAT out of his mind.

TJ was already hoisting himself out of the pool. The doofus was definitely trying to show off for Tate's mom, letting the water run down his toned athletic bod. He was shorter and more compactly muscled than Tate, but his real asset was that he legendarily had the biggest cock on the team. I'd just seen it soft in the locker room, but talk was that he had a real horse dick that was outsized to his smaller frame. His wet trunks clung to a thick lump.

I could see Tate's mom laugh some since she could read what TJ was doing as well as me. Turning back to Tate she added. "You can use the hot tub if you want." Then turning to the rest of us, she added, "Just keep the noise down fellas, OK?"

"Yes Mrs. Walsh," Mac chimed in. He was still beneath the water but his eyes were fixated on Tate's mom as she walked back inside.

"Fuck," he finally said.

"Easy, Baroni, that's my mom," Tate laughed. Kind of serious, but kind of joking.

"It's no fucking fair, man," Mac shook his head. But there wasn't really much else to say. Especially because none of us were sure we were completely out of earshot.

I could tell Mac was boned when he finally got out of the pool and I felt bad for the guy. Especially because he sheepishly looked over my way to see if I was checking him out. I'd done a lot of compartmentalizing over the last few years, but in the buzz I had going on, I was thinking, yeah, I'd like to see Mac's hardon. That realization made me blush I did my best to look away without seeming like I was getting caught red handed.

Tate was already firing up the hot tub, testing the temperature, since it was already a warm summer evening out and we didn't need the water too hot. The hot tub itself was pretty nice, almost a mini pool that could hold 6 easily. We'd used it a couple of times before, it was kind of nice after a game or a hard workout actually. TJ popped open another hard seltzer can and asked if I wanted one. I held off, wanting to pace myself, but Mac readily agreed. I saw his dick had gone down as he stepped into the water. He was looking extra beefy, and Tate would rib him about getting his freshman 15 a year early. I dunno, that bulk kind of looked good on him.

We talked about our college plans. I mean, we knew each other's college plans, but there was all that boring shit... orientation, move date, dorm and roommate plans. Mac and Tate were D1 scholarship players, whereas TJ planned to play on a lacrosse club in his college. I looked forward to taking a break from trying to fit in with the jocks. From being the odd man out. I had no idea what my true scene was, but I was eager to find it.

We were all relaxed sitting in that hot tub, just talking about some dumb shit, I can't even remember what. Then, Mrs. Walsh came out.

"Is it OK if I join you gentlemen?" she asked, a half-filled plastic wine glass in hand. Her tone was kind of flirty but almost in the way that a hot chick talks to all guys. It's just her normal.

That bikini wasn't normal, though. It was like sorority-slut Spring Break skimpy. Those tits made it even more obscene, as two triangular patches of fabric barely covered half of those boobs. As a gay dude, I wasn't a connoisseur of tits, but I suspected Mrs. Walsh had some augmentation done at some point. They were not only big but firm.

The guys muttered their OK in stumbling words, but already Tate's mom was stepping into the tub. She turned to Tate. "You don't mind me joining, do you, honey? Your momma's had a long day."

Tate had a shit-eating smirk on his face. For all of his mother-fucking talk, part of me didn't believe it. I believed it now. My teammate had the look of a man very much sexually obsessed with his mom and very open about that obsession. "Of course not, Mom." He scooted to the side to let his mother take the seat in the water next to him.

I could hear Evanchick gulp in horniness beside me. And from the ashen look on Mac's face, he was having a hard time figuring out how to react.

It was weird as fuck to me, but I was feeling more detached and amused. Not my circus.

"Hmmm, that water feels nice," Mrs. Walsh said, relaxing her neck back and rolling her head around a little as if to relieve the stress. The action just made her boobs jut out more.

"Tough day, Mom?" Tate asked.

"Fraid so, hon...." Mrs. Walsh said as he turned her head back to look at him and at all of us. She had a dreamy look on her face. "But don't let me stop the party."

"Thanks for letting us come over, Mrs. Walsh," Mac piped in. It was so wild to me the way a confident jock could all of a sudden act like a doofus around a hot woman.

"Anytime," she said. "As long as you boys behave."

Oh fuck, she was flirting. And I could see the smirk on Tate's phase. He knew what his mom was doing and seemed to approve.

Leave it to Evanchick to have more game than Baroni. "I don't always behave, Mrs. Walsh. But I know how to respect my elders."

Mrs. Walsh giggled. She was enjoying this. Like a hunter lioness circling her prey before pouncing. "Oh TJ, you make me sound so OLD!" she teased.

"It's not that, Mrs. Walsh," TJ stammered, trying to keep his game face on. "It's just.."

She smiled. "Oh I'm just teasing. But there's something about seeing you boys go off to college that isn't make feel any younger."

Tate put his arm around his mother's shoulder. "You know I'm going to be back to visit a lot, Mom, right?"

"You better, Tate," she mock-chided.

I gulped. It was uncomfortable, like us guys were watching something private between Tate and his mom. But I also knew that TJ and Mac were getting horned up by it, too. In my own way, I was as well.

Especially as Tate got a certain goofy grin on his face. I couldn't tell exactly where Mrs. Walsh's hand was but I had the feeling she was feeling him beneath the bubbling water.

My teammate turned to us. "Mom's a little upset I showed you those pics," he stated flatly.

Mac started to stammer an apology. Evanchick just grinned.

Mrs. Walsh let out a little giggle. "Tate's too old to ground, but I gave him a lecture about keeping secrets." She turned from a loving glance at Tate to look at us as well. "But I'm flattered you liked the photos."

Jesus.

Mac was blushing red. TJ was gonna shoot his shot. "No disrespect, Mrs. Walsh, but you're a very attractive woman. Any guy would be crazy not to notice."

Tate let out a little laugh.

Mrs. Walsh played along. "That's very sweet TJ." The surreal thing was she just seemed to be in her normal ex-sorority "nice" mode. Even as she got that relaxed look on her face and casually took off her bikini top.

I thought that swimsuit was pretty obscene and barely hid anything, but as those tits popped out, the temperature was definitely being turned up. I now knew that she and Tate had planned this.

Mrs. Walsh gently tossed the bikini top aside and leaned back, letting those big jugs stick out just an inch above the water. Definitely fake. Not that any of the guys cared.

"How does the real thing compare, gentleman?" she asked.

Baroni finally got past his shyness. "They're incredible, Mrs. Walsh. I'm gonna dream about them, actually."

Mrs. Walsh smiled. She seemed to love the attention. I was watching Tate, who was watching his mother. He was enjoying this, maybe enjoying showing off his hot mom.

But Mrs. Walsh's gaze was now directed across the hot tub. "Want to feel them, Mac?" she asked. A little more sultry but somehow Mrs. Walsh didn't make it sound slutty. Or it was slutty in a mom-next-door way. Totally fucked up.

Mac was already moving across the water. All eyes were on Mrs. Walsh's boobs, except mine. I was eyeing up Mac Baroni's football-like beef and trying to see if I could make out his hardon in the wet board shorts.

"Fuck," he hissed once his big paws cupped those hooters. Mac half massaged the fleshy globes, half just held onto them. "You're a lucky dog, Tate," he growled, then stopped himself. "Sorry..." he apologized. "I'm an idiot." I could see in Mac's face a real worry he'd fucked this up by bringing up the incest so explicitly.

Mrs. Walsh put him at ease. "Tate's very familiar with my breasts... aren't you honey?"

"Yes, Momma," he said. It was so wild to see my jock buddy use that term with his mother. Already his hand was easing over to one of his mom's breasts, nudging Mac's out of the way.

Mrs. Walsh let the guys feel her up for a minute then said softly. "Don't you boys know how to share?" she asked. "Maybe Luke and TJ want a turn."

"Luke's gay, Mrs. Walsh," Mac asserted.

"I'm sure as hell not," Evanchick kind of boasted as he stood up in the hot tub. Not just scooting over like Mac did, I realized he wanted Tate's mom to see his endowment. Indeed, that massive cock rode up high and hard in his swim trunks.

"Why don't you sit up on the edge, Mom?" Tate asked.

Those tits bounced, but barely, as she did just that. Mac was following to take one side while TJ took the other side.

I was feeling odd man out now, and I pushed myself out of the tub.

"Not gonna stay for the show, Mullins?" Tate teased. Already he was sitting in the tub and between his mom's legs, pulling the swimsuit bottom down.

"Pussy weirds him out, bro," Mac chimed in, referring to a statement I'd made while drunk one night about being turned off by straight porn.

All right, these guys were in obnoxious jock mode. I did my best to ignore them as I dried off and found my flip flops.

The air conditioning inside was cool, cold even. I wished I'd put on my T-shirt, but I didn't want to go back out there. These guys were having their dream sex fantasy handed to them on a silver platter, and part of me respected that. I wasn't gonna spoil it for them. But I just wished they didn't have to be dicks, and I wished I could stick up for myself more.

I opened the fridge and found one of the craft beers that probably was Mr. Walsh's. Tate and the guys were into hard seltzer or tasteless beer. I laughed to think they gave me shit for being into fruity mixed drinks when we first started partying. I stopped drinking those now.

I popped open the can and took a sip. The kitchen window had a pretty good view on the hot tub area. I wasn't gonna watch but figured what the hell. The guys wouldn't notice but even if they did, fuck 'em.

Tate had his face buried between his mother's thighs and was really going to town. Apparently my teammate was really into eating pussy. Mrs. Walsh was kind of going wild, kissing Mac then TJ, back and forth, while both of them mauled her tits like it was the first rack they'd ever felt up.

As fevered as those guys were in the group scene, they weren't rushing things, not pushing to the next step quickly. But eventually, TJ pulled back from his kiss and reached down to push down his trunks. Up popped that huge dong, long and fat and hard. Evanchick was hung as much as his reputation and on his compact frame it looked even more massive.

I'd been so engrossed in the show that I didn't hear the sound of someone coming into the house.

"Hey Luke... the guys out back?"

I turned back, like a kid caught with the hand in the cookie jar. There was Mr. Walsh standing in his golf attire, the dry-knit polo clinging to his meaty pecs and draping more loosely over the dad bod midsection. He had a reddish hue and tan line from his day on the links and he had that nineteenth hole buzz vibe to his expression. I always thought the man was handsome, kind of a classic "dad" masculinity to him.

But now the nervousness kicked in.

"Hey Mr. Walsh," I said, blood draining from my face. "Um, you might not want to look out back, sir."

The man stopped, and it took him just a second to figure out what I was talking about and for that affable smile to leave his face. "Oh," he said. I think he was more worried that I knew than anything, and I felt bad for the man. He let out a loud sigh. "I've probably seen worse," he said. Then nodding down at at my beer, he asked, "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," I said. It was fucked up. Here was my buddy's dad, basically cucked by his own son, and I felt it was my job to be the guy's friend. "I think I raided your beers, sir. Sorry."

The man walked over to the fridge and got himself a cold can. "Glad you did," he said. "Make yourself at home, Luke." Mr. Walsh was very laid back about us drinking, the opposite of Evanchick's or Baroni's folks.

He popped the can open and took a long sip. Maybe it was all the sexual activity earlier, but I was definitely grooving on Mr. Walsh's thick bod. Total hot daddy, but in a real way, not in an Instagram DILF kind of way. Still, I tried not to seem weird around him.

The man took a look out the window finally. He didn't seem too bothered, but he turned to me. "Yep. That's pretty messed up," he said.

I laughed, and I hoped Mr. Walsh didn't think I was laughing at him. It was just how he acknowledged the absurdity of Tate and my teammates all doing Mrs. Walsh.

He turned to me. "I'm surprised you're not joining them Luke. You have a girlfriend?"

I shook my head. "Nah, Mr. Walsh... it's not my thing."

He misread what I was saying. "You're not going to get them in trouble are you?" he asked. For as cucked he was, it was clear that his wife and his son had his blessing.

"I mean, I'm gay, sir," I said. A year ago I would have hid this, but something about the situation and the fact I was going off to college soon had me more blunt.

Mr. Walsh nodded. "Wouldn't have guessed, buddy," he said. He took another look out the window. Then with a grin he added, "You check out your buddies' cocks?"

Fuck. Maybe Tate's dad was just messing with me, or just trying to show he was cool with the gay thing. But I was getting the vibe it was something more.

I felt my face grow hot now. "That goes against the bro code," I replied.

Mr. Walsh looked back at me with a smile. "Hell, they're not my bros," he said and turned to look back out.

OK, Tate's dad had at least a big homo streak. I laughed and walked over to stand beside him at the window. As wild as the scene was earlier, this was incredible in its own way. Standing beside Mr. Walsh's warm body, both of us playing voyeur, watching his own son and my teammates have a four-gy with his wife.

"TJ is hung like a fucking mule," the man said, taking a sip of beer. I decided I liked Mr. Walsh, a lot. "Look at that huge dick."

I did. Mrs. Walsh was doing her best to suck it, while Mac jerked his dick and waited for his turn. Tate was still munching his mom's snatch.

"I prefer Mac's," I said. Blushing as I admitted it, but it felt good to let it out.

Mr. Walsh turned to me. "Yeah, bud?" he said. I could read so much understanding in his face. He knew what it was like. "You don't have to worry about the bro code around me," he added.

"Thanks, Mr. Walsh."

"Tom," he said. I knew his first name but never used it.

"Thanks, Tom," I said. I turned my attention out back again. Tate was now bare ass naked and thrusting between his mom's legs.

I could tell Mr. Walsh was horny watching. I couldn't begin to guess the situation here. But he watched intently and asked. "What do you think of my son?" he asked, a horny edge to his voice.

Talk about fucked up. But Tom didn't judge me, and I wasn't gonna judge him. "Tate's kind of a dick, but he's hot," I admitted. Something about the situation made me feel freer to speak the truth.

Mr. Walsh chuckled. "You don't go for the cocky ones do ya, Luke?"

"No sir," I said. "Not normally my thing."

He nodded, still watching the sex scene out book. "Good for you."

We watched a little while longer and sipped our beer. It was hot but was also a strange bonding experience. Both of us odd man out.

Finally, Tom spoke again. "Sorry you're not having your fun tonight, Luke."

I was feeling buzzed now, and anyway I figured I'd channel Evanchick some. Shoot my shot. "If you gave me a chance, Tom..." I said. Throwing it out there.

I could tell Mr. Walsh was surprised. And also into the idea. He turned to me with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm afraid I've gone to seed," he said.

I stood my ground. Posture erect, my dick firming up. "You're totally hot, Tom. I'm not just saying that."

He still seemed cautious. "You, um... you know, you ever done anything?"

I wanted to make stuff up but I told him the truth. "I've gotten a couple of blowjobs. Older guys, too. It's always hot."

Tom smiled. Maybe teasing me as he replied. "So YOU like the be the cocky one?"

I chuckled, out of nervousness and horniness alike. "I don't fucking know, Tom," I complained. "I just love men, you know?" I put the emphasis on men because, the Mac Baronis of the world excepted, I knew I'd prefer someone older than me.

"I wish I'd realized earlier," he said and I felt him put his arms on my waist. I was shirtless and the contact of his warm hands felt amazing.

We kissed. For all the no-strings sex I'd had, I now realized this was missing. It didn't have to be romantic, though ultimately I'd want that too. But feeling Tom Walsh's lips against mine, our tongues slipping together, me trying to follow his lead and anticipate it, the warmth and scent and breath from a MAN pulling close to me. I fricking loved it.

His hands were now feeling me up, running up and down my bare back. I didn't have Mac's beef or even Tate or TJ's muscle but I was a fit athlete. Mr. Walsh seemed to appreciate what I had going on.

For my part I was pawing at every bit of Tom's dad bod, feeling the hard back muscle and the softer love handles and enjoying it all. I was realizing that my preferred body type really was a man with some meat on his bones. I knew it was visually, but in person too it drove me wild to feel that hard-softness of a bigger man. Greedily, my fingers were now running underneath Tom's golf shirt to make skin contact.

Mr. Walsh moaned into my mouth. We were clinging to each other like horny teenagers. Well, I was the horny teenager, Mr. Walsh was just plain horny.

We finally broke the kiss, smiles on our faces. "You are quite an attractive young man, Luke," Tom said.

"This is SO against the bro code," I joked. "My buddy's dad."

Mr. Walsh laughed. "I'm sure," he said. "But Tate's having his fun. It's my turn now." He gave me a quick peck again. "Take this to the guest room?"

We were already down the hall before I realized I'd forgotten about the hot tub orgy going on. Mr. Walsh led me into the guest room, and I felt bad as I realized this is where he slept now. But he pulled down the covers and peeled off his shirt. God, that meaty bod was incredible. He wasn't overweight, really, and the top of his torso was all firm round pecs and broad build shoulders and arms. His middle had a little beer belly. Not quite round, not quite a spare tire, but something in between. His chest hair wasn't heavy but it looked fitting for his age, sprinkled with some gray flecks.

"You don't have to be shy, Luke," he said.

I realized then I was hesitating to take off my trunks. But I did now. This felt naughtier than getting my dick sucked by some random dude. This was my friend's dad, and I was now showing off my boner to him and stripping down naked.

"Very nice," Tom smiled, now undoing his own golf shorts.

I realized I hadn't seen Tate's cock just now, so I don't know how his dad's compared. But it was a perfect dick. Average in length and fatter in girth. Whereas mine had an inch on him but was more normal in width. We stepped toward one another and embraced again. Our cocks touching and battling a little.

We didn't kiss right away but enjoyed the playful intimacy.

"I gotta warn you, Tom," I admitted. "I don't really know what I'm doing. I mean... I've watched a lot of porn, but for the real thing..."

He nodded. "You up for sucking me some?" he asked. Tone respectful but horny.

I nodded. "Um, yeah... fuck."

"Sit down on the bed," he urged.

I did. From that vantage, Tom Walsh's body seemed girthier and more muscular too. I wondered if this is what Mac would look like when he got older. It was a thrill of a thought. I leaned forward and started licking Mr. Walsh's perfect dick, which twitched against my tongue.

"Nice, buddy... feel free to explore it."

I did. Working up from his balls to his dripping cock slit and back down. It was incredible to have another man's genitals pressed against my face. Finally, I got up to the top again and opened up. My first dick to suck and I was going for it.

"God, yeah, man... easy buddy.... that's it, nice and slow... get used to me."

Walsh wasn't overly hung but for my first dick the size seemed pretty big. But I relaxed and focused on sucking in addition to bobbing. Once I got the groove, I heard grunts of approval from Mr. Walsh. Then his hands on my head, gently pulling me into his crotch with a steady pace matched to my sucking.

"Your first cock, buddy?" he hissed. "You're doing amazing."

I was glad of that, but my jaw and throat were tiring, mostly from the newness of the sensation. Thankfully, Tom pulled out, his prick looking bigger and fuller and definitely wetter with my thick spit.

The man had a big smile on his face as he leaned down and met me for a tongue heavy kiss. Already this was beating the quick BJs I'd gotten before. The man patted my shoulder as he relinquished our lip lock. "Lie back, stud," he urged.

As I did I felt Tom's lips kiss along my abs and then further down.

"Oh yeah!" I hissed once he started taking me into his mouth.

This wasn't Mr. Walsh's first dick. He swallowed about four inches of me and worked me before he began deep throating. His pace was slow, almost gentle, but his nose mashed against my pubes with each go. Felt his throat gently milk my boner and saw the way his sun-lightened brown hair was thinner on top and had some gray flecks on the side. I wondered if he wanted to suck Tate like this.

I was starting to cum. Only Tom pulled off right before I did. His hand on my spit wet cock felt great but it was going to keep me on the boil, not push me to completion.

"I take it you're not up for getting fucked," he said. More a statement in tone, but I knew he was throwing the idea out there.

My body shook in nervous energy. "I don't think I'm ready, Mr. Walsh.... sorry, sir."

He grinned. Mayne being called Mr. Walsh made him feel like a dirty old man. Maybe he liked that. He leaned in and gave my balls a quick swipe of his tongue. "If you ever change your mind, Luke, I'd love to take your cherry."

The words were horny and lewd and the intensity of his proposal turned me on. "I'd love to lose it to you, sir," I replied. "Maybe another time. OK?"

He seemed pleased with that response as he pulled back and reached over to the nightstand. I saw the lube come out. For a second I got mad, like he was still going to pressure me to do this. But then he slicked up my hardon with his lubed hand and quickly did the same with his own.

I grinned. We were gonna jack off together. The idea seemed appealing. That way Tom and I could cum at the same time, maybe even while we were kissing. I took my dick in my hand and started the familiar motion up and down.

But as the married man scooted up in bed, he knocked my hand away, off my dick. My heart pounded as I saw his dad bod position himself over my midsection, straddling me.

"Man, we gonna...?" I asked, unable to believe it.

Tom got a big grin on his suntanned face. He nodded and reached over to pump out more lube into his palm, before reaching back between his legs to slick his ass up.

"You done this Mr. Walsh?" I asked. I needed to know. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, other than imitating porn, and I worried a real ass would take more effort to fuck.

"I got a golf buddy," he said with an impish grin. "We help each other out."

"Hot," I said. "You gonna help me out?" I teased.

Tom responded to my playful tone. "Well, your buddies left you high and dry, it's the least I can do."

The middle aged dad nestled his slick crack on my boner and let it nudge against his pucker for a second. "You OK going bare?" he asked, his blue eyes now meeting mine in a horny, almost dreamy expression.

"Fuck yeah," I hissed.

Then I felt the most amazing sensation of penetration. My first ass. My first dad hole. My buddy's father. Mr. Walsh.

"God..." I hissed.

The man was letting out some air, relaxing his body. But he was taking my dick pretty well, sinking down it. "You're a big boy, Luke," he said in his naughty bedroom voice.

"Bigger than your golf buddy?" I had to ask.

"Bigger than my golf buddy."

I almost made a crack about being bigger than his son, but held off. Tom paused at the bottom, having taken me all the way inside. His guts felt tight and hot and alive. I loved this. I'd want a LOT more fucking from here on out.

I was patient and in any case took the chance to run my hands along his body, along thos thick thighs and up over his dad bod stomach.

The man chuckled at my clear admiration. "You really like my body don't ya, Luke."

I looked up at him. At his handsome face and his raccoon eyes from the day of golf. I wanted to fuck him so bad. "Yes, sir. Fuck, is that weird?"

"Not at all, stud," he answered. "I'm glad."

He let me run my hands over his body some more then rose up. About four inches, then settled back down. And again. Mr. Walsh was fucking himself on me. I loved this, but my teen horniness kicked in. I held onto the man and started thrusting up into me.

"Yes!" he hissed. "You're hitting my fucking spot, Luke... right there, buddy!"

Indeed as I fucked into his meaty body, his cock jerked in a regular rhythm. It made me want to fuck faster. So I did.

"Yes, yes," the man urged. The fact Mr. Walsh liked this made me feel like a fucking king.

I knew I was going to have trouble holding off but the second he reached down to touch his own dick, his insides just did a crazy clench and unclench wave on my thrusting prick.

"Oh SHIT!" I gasped. Already orgasming. My hips a frantic blur, my whole lacrosse jock body tensing as I gave it up.

Maybe I was hitting Tom's spot just right. Or maybe he liked the idea I was breeding him. Because I wasn't finished with my release when I felt his hot sperm land on me in heavy blotches.

"FUCK!" he grunted, his body flush and his dick jerking as he milked out the last seed. He regained awareness and our eyes met. We laughed.

"Your first fuck?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"And...?" he prodded. I loved Tom's playful side.

"You've totally spoiled me, Mr. Walsh."

He leaned back, feeling my cock buried inside. "You're still hard as a rock," he laughed.

"Fraid so," I said.

"I need a break, OK?"

I nodded and he eased off. Our bodies were hot and sweaty as we connected for a kiss. We made out for a while, our hearts still racing. My dick wasn't going down but I was just enjoying this intimate connection.

Tom finally patted my chest. "I was not expecting THAT, Luke Mullins," he said.

"Expecting what?" I chuckled.

He shrugged. "You to be into men. You being able to fuck like THAT. First time out, too."

I smirked. "Yes, sir," I said. Now proud of my sexual performance. I didn't realize I'd done anything special. It felt like it was all Mr. Walsh.

He seemed to get a concerned look finally and he nodded his head back in the direction of the backyard. "You sticking around for the rest of the show out back?" he asked.

"Think they're done?" I asked. I was now nervous about the guys knowing about me and Tom. I didn't care for myself but I didn't want to get Tate's dad in trouble.

"Knowing Tate, probably not," the man said. Not jaded or bitter, almost impressed.

"I'm not gonna ask, Mr. Walsh," I said. "But I have SO many questions."

Thankfully the man had a sense of humor. "I bet. Maybe later, OK?" He leaned up and looked over at the clock.

"Did you drive here?" he asked.

"Nah, TJ picked me up."

"I can take you home if you like. Unless you want to crash here."

I didn't know if he meant in his room or with the guys. Either way, it seemed awkward now. "No, I'll head home, Mr. Walsh. Thanks." I sat up, feeling my energy surprisingly drained. I was going to sleep very well after that fuck. My dick had calmed down and softened and I enjoyed seeing Tom's eyes follow it as I got out of bed and slipped back into my swim trunks. "I gotta get my clothes out back."

Tom laughed. "All right. Meet you out front?"

When I got out back, the guys were out of the pool. Mrs. Walsh was on a lounger while Mac's powerhouse body fucked her. Tate was doing laps in the pool, while Evanchick sat in a chair, his huge dick hard but otherwise he was clearly resting between rounds.

He looked up as I walked over to get my shirt and flip flops nearby.

"Hey," he said. "Sorry we forgot about you Mullens," he said, leaning back in his chair. He wasn't self conscious about his nakedness around me, and I realized TJ liked showing off his big dong, even to me. "But you know..." he looked over at Mac going wild on Mrs. Walsh. "...fuck."

I looked over too. I wanted to memorize the vision of Baroni, naked and having sex. I turned back to Evanchick. "It's OK... I had my fun this evening."

TJ laughed and held up his fist in a mock jerkoff motion. But I shook my head no.

The guy's not as dumb as Mac, and he picked on what was going. "For real?" he asked. Looking back to see if Mr. Walsh was in sight.

"Yeah, for real," I boasted. I hated being an asshat, bragging about Mr. Walsh like that, but I was sick of being the odd man out. "Don't tell Tate, OK?"

TJ did a cross-his-heart gesture. I took one more look at Mac's magnificent backside and ass and then gave TJ a buddy pat on the shoulder. "See ya later, bro."

Mr. Walsh drove me home and was the total gentleman. He asked me if I was interested in a date, maybe golf on Sunday. He pulled up to my house and we exchanged phone numbers. And Tom kissed me before I got out of the car.

"Everything OK?" my mom asked when she saw me home early. She'd given me some ground rules for the summer but they were pretty lax. 11PM curfew unless I was staying at a friend's house chaperoned. She wasn't used to seeing me before 9 these days.

"Yeah, Mom," I said. "Just tired from my workout today. Mr. Walsh drove me home," I added.

I made some small talk and went to grab some water to rehydrate. Then I made my way up to my bedroom. There was a text from Mr. Walsh.

"I had a great time, young man," it read.

I smiled and typed. "Me too, Tom. Amazing." I was nervous texting a man much older than me like this, afraid I'd get him in trouble. But with all that was going on in the Walsh household maybe that was the least of anyone's worries.

"They're still going at it, by the way," Tom wrote.

"I wish I'd stayed for round two," I wrote. The man could tell me if I had to be more discreet.

"Ha, I bet. I don't think I could have handled a second round. Sorry, Luke."

"Nothing to be sorry about sir. I'm still on cloud nine."

We sent each other some more texts, but soon called it a night.

***

Tate found out the following week. He gave me the silent treatment and it was the end of our little posse. Or at least my participation in it. I hung out some with Mac still, but mostly the guys spent their summer together, without me. I was a little bummed, but it was inevitable. I was moving away in a couple of months anyway.

And, yeah, I did lose my cherry to Mr. Walsh. We didn't become boyfriends or anything. But we had a hell of a lot of fun that summer. Including a few time with his golf buddy joining.

It was an auspicious start to my college years, but that's another story.

[lanadelnegan]

Hey, I love your writing it’s so good you truly are a phenomenal writer. Anyways, I was wondering if you could do a gym teacher negan x female reader. (She’s a senior about to graduate and she’s been flirting with her teacher and they both feel the same way for each other and one day he decides to break the tension and things just get steamy. Btw I literally adore that you use a daddy kink (you are so real for that). Thank you so much :)

omg thank you so so much!!! and god this sounds insanely hot. i'm such a whore for teacher negan.

Crush - Part 1

Gym Teacher Negan x Female Reader

read part two here

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, *reader is 18*, you catch Coach Negan masturbating, angst, teasing, flirting, sexual tension, teacher x student, part 2 will be 99% smut

Song inspo: Crush by Ethel Cain

"Ya gonna miss me when I graduate?" You ask, reaching for a piece of candy from the bowl on Negan's desk. Class started five minutes ago, but both of you have a tendency to be late.

Negan has been your gym teacher since junior year and the two of you have grown closer over the past two years than any teacher and student should. It's hard to fight the crush you've developed for him, considering his charming sense of humor, ridiculously good looks, and most importantly - how much attention he gives you.

His eyes trail away from his computer screen as he stands, coming around the desk beside you. "Is there a reason you're not in your gym clothes, miss y/l/n?"

"What? You don't like this?" You tease, looking down at your outfit. Your usual attire consists of some jeans and a t-shirt, but this is your last week of high school, so you decided to spice it up and wear a short blue sundress today.

Negan glances down at your body, letting his gaze linger on your breasts for a moment too long as he stands tall in front of you.

"It's a little inappropriate, wouldn't you say so? .... You tryna get some high school boy's attention?" His head tilts waiting for your answer.

"I wouldn't say boy." You take a bite of the unwrapped mini snickers bar in your hand before smirking at him.

"Oh?" His brows raise playfully. "A girl then?"

"No.. gym teacher." You say barely above a whisper as you smoothly lick some of the chocolate off your bottom lip. Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your own words.

You've become much bolder since you turned 18 last month, and you aren't missing the opportunity to spend every second flirting with Coach Negan before school is out.

The corner of his mouth raises into a knowing smirk as he stands closer to you, intoxicating you with the scent of his musky, sporty cologne.

"You want my attention, doll? Ya gotta try harder than that." He snatches the candy bar from your hand before popping it into his own mouth and leaving you standing alone in his office.

His loud voice from the gym echoes through the hallway as you make your way to the locker room, replaying his words in your head and changing into your tiniest pair of shorts.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You tie your hair up in a high ponytail in the mirror, noting the way your oversized shirt and shorts barely cover your ass before giving yourself a pep talk.

"Y/l/n, nice of you to finally join us." He yells as you enter the gym.

You roll your eyes nonchalantly before finding your spot on the court and beginning your stretches.

Negan walks up and down the rows of students as you all stretch and music flows through the speakers of the gym. There's no denying he's the coolest P.E. teacher you've ever had. Not even counting his looks.

When he reaches your space, he makes a point to roam his eyes up and down your body as you stretch. You stare back at him, grinning at the effect you seem to have on him. You can't help but notice the way his dick bounces behind his gym shorts as he walks and you mentally thank the gods that he chose not to wear underwear today.

Your body bends side to side as you stretch, not taking your eyes off of him as he gets closer to you.

"You can do better than that." He whispers lowly.

You're not sure if he's referring to your stretching or his comment from earlier... Ya gotta try harder than that.

Either way, you take it as a challenge and bend over right as he's passing you, touching the tips of your fingers to your toes. Your head turns slightly behind you to see his reaction but he's not looking which only makes you groan with frustration.

"Lucky for you kids I happen to be in a fuckin' good mood today, so rest of class is free time. Just don't get too loud and make me regret it." Negan announces to the class and everyone spreads out, immediately finding their friend groups and beginning various activities.

Unfortunately for you, your only friends in that class are a small group of girls on the volleyball team, and they always play together during free time, leaving you to fend for yourself. You don't mind though because your favorite teacher always keeps you busy.

"Heads up." Negan tosses a basketball in your direction and you catch it easily. "Shoot with me?" He asks.

"Around the world or horse?" You ask, letting him choose which game to play.

"Horse, duh." He answers without hesitation.

"Okay, but let's make it interesting." You suggest and his head tilts curiously. "Every letter you get, I get to ask you a personal question. Like truth.. but with basketball." I explain and he nods his head in agreement.

"You mean.. I get to ask you the questions, since I'll be the one winning." He grins, taking the ball from your hand and shooting smoothly from the free throw line. The ball swishes the net with ease and you roll your eyes at his cocky smile.

"Anyone can make a free throw." You shoot the ball, hitting the rim as it bounces off.

"Apparently not anyone." He laughs and you give him the evil eye. "Oh, right! Question. Let's see, I'll start easy. Got any crushes at school?" He teases.

You giggle, watching him shoot from the next spot and miss.

"Yes." You answer simply.

He catches his rebound, passing you the ball. "Well, who is it?"

"Nope. That's two questions." You dismiss him, shooting and making it in the basket.

He nods his head sarcastically at your response. "That's how it's gonna be, huh?"

He lobs the ball in the air towards the basket, missing clearly on purpose and you look at him confused. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugs, widening his eyes playfully. "I missed. Ready for my question."

You giggle as you think of a question. "Do you have any crushes at school?"

"That would be highly inappropriate miss y/l/n."

"That's not an answer."

He chuckles before shooting and making it again. "...Yeah, I do."

Your cheeks burn at his answer, but you don't get your hopes up too much knowing it could be anyone, even another teacher.

The game continues back and forth as you and Negan ask each other questions. He shoots the final shot, missing and purposely letting you win.

"So, what's my final question, kid? Make it a good one."

"Do you ever.. think of me.. in that way?" You ask bravely, knowing you might not get another chance like this one.

"In what way?" He asks innocently, resting his hands on his hips.

You blush, not wanting to say it, so you don't. "Nothing, forget it."

He looks down at you with a more serious than playful expression now and you wish you could read his mind.

"Okay. If you say so." He shrugs, throwing the ball down and walking away towards the hall to his office. "I let you win by the way." He calls out before disappearing.

You mentally curse yourself for not asking him but it's too late, so you make your way back to the locker room, wanting to get dressed before everyone comes back in.

You change out of your sweaty clothes before slipping your dress on with nothing underneath since your sweat soaked through your panties and bra. You feel even more exposed than earlier considering your dress barely reaches three inches below your ass cheeks.

You study yourself in the mirror as his words echo in your mind again like a broken record.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You don't want to miss out on another opportunity with him, knowing your time with him is running out, so you grab your things and saunter down the hall to his open office, stopping at the doorway before entering.

Negan's attention is focused on his computer screen as he speaks. "Can I help you, doll?"

You ignore his question, bravely walking over to him before shutting the door behind you and leaning your backpack against the wall. You join him on the other side of the room, standing before him as he sits in his chair looking up at you. Chills cover your body when your bare ass touches the surface of his cold wooden desk.

His brows scrunch at your sudden boldness as he moves his chair back slightly, allowing space between the two of you. "What are you doing, y/n?" He asks but it comes out as more of a warning.

"Getting your attention" You place your bare feet on each side of his thighs in the chair, spreading your legs in front of him and shuttering as the cool breeze brushes your exposed pussy. "Do you ever think about me... like this?" You ask, finishing your question from earlier.

The look on his face is unreadable as his eyes drop to your center.

"You wanna know what I think about, y/n?" His voice turns to a raspy whisper. "I think about how tight that little pussy must be...how those pretty lips would look wrapped around my cock." His dark, heavy eyes lift to meet yours and you've never seen them so blown with lust before. "What you'd sound like begging for me to fuck you. How sweet you probably taste.." His eyes drop to your pussy again as his top teeth cover his bottom lip. "And then.. I come to my damn senses and realize I can't fuckin' risk my whole career for some pussy."

Ouch. Your eyes water at his sudden change of words.

Your heart stings at the rejection as you cover yourself quickly and climb off his desk. The end of day bell rings just in time to dismiss you as you head for the door.

"Y/n, wait." He sighs.

But you keep walking, leaving him behind like he did to you earlier. That's the last time he's going to make you feel like a fucking idiot. You tell yourself, frustrated that you let his mixed signals get to you.

"Goddamn it. Some pussy? The hells wrong with me." Negan whispers to himself, sliding a frustrated hand down his face as he leans back in his chair.

He feels terrible for making you feel that way, but he reminds himself it was for your own good. He knows you're about to go off to college, and the last thing he wants is for you to go catching feelings for your someone you can't have.

As a consequence of his good intentions, his cock aches painfully in his shorts while he stares blankly at the empty desk you sat on only minutes ago.

The sounds of students dismissing for the day are long gone as he realizes he's finally alone.

Fuck it. He says to himself before opening his desk drawer and pumping some lotion in his hand. He pulls his heavy cock out of his shorts, immediately gripping it in his hand and stroking it desperately.

His head falls back against his chair as he groans out, imagining your legs spread open in front of him once again.

His hand works his cock up and down, focusing on the sensitive tip as his eyes shut tight. He gathers his leaking precum with his thumb, working circles around the tip, wishing it was your lips instead.

A deep groan escapes his throat as he reaches his climax, spraying his load all over his white t-shirt. "Fuuuck, y/n." His eyes drift open when he moans your name, instantly connecting with yours as you stand from the doorway, watching him get off to the thought of you.

"I forgot my backpack."

Part 2 here

[yuyusboyfriend]

i’m no writer but i’m always having massive amounts of brainrot so may i offer the idea of professor!yunho and student!reader,, yk, the whole reader can’t focus in class bc prof jeong is just so hot and he catches on but doesn’t do anything about it until they’re actually on the brink of failing the class so he calls them up to his office and then the rest is history

im sorry im a sucker for power imbalances hides back in my corner

Oh my god. Professor Yunho brain rot is so real. THANKS SM ANON FOR THE ASK🫶

Meet me after class.

pairing: professor!yunho × reader

wordcount: 2,6k

warnings: aged up Yunho (late twenties +), reader early 20s, non idol au, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest), dom!Yunho/sub!reader, use of pet names (baby, star, sweetheart, tiny,) use of Sir, cunnilingus (pussy, once again, ate), rough sex, LOTS of praise, yunhos a sweetheart, also a beast iykwim, lmk if theres anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Every single day you attended classes like the exemplary student you are. You've always had decent enough grades, whether you honestly liked the lesson or just crammed the last second before exams; you've never "flopped" as your friends would say. It stayed this way until you started taking classes taught by the most stunning man you'd ever seen in your lifetime, Professor Jeong Yunho. When you walked into class for the first time 30 minutes early to claim your seat, you had already been beaten to the front rows by numerous other students. Weird, you thought, most people flock to the other end of the classroom—until you saw the professor arranging his papers at the front of the small lecture hall.

You stood frozen on the steps, staring at the older man. His obsidian-black hair fell just above his eyes, moving against his batting eyelashes as he concentrated on whatever he was reading at his desk. His discarded blazer is on the back of his chair, giving you a full view of his toned back and rounded shoulders in his white dress shirt. You're pretty sure your underwear was already ruined once you looked at his rolled-up sleeves, seeing his muscled forearms tensing while he fiddled with his silver rings. You felt relieved seeing no wedding ring though.

His dark eyes scanned the class as he noticed more students flooding through the lecture room doorway, pausing once they landed on your awestruck figure. His deep gaze was what finally broke you out of your trance, forcing your legs to start walking towards your seat, as near to the front desk as you could get. You made a mental note to arrive earlier next time, even if you had to sit between 20 other thirsty students trying to get time with the professor.

You found that Jeong Yunho's class wasn't impossible (on top of his good-looking self, he was a profoundly competent teacher), but it also wasn't for the weak who only came to eye up the man teaching. That being said, the class dropped from seventy-odd students to 40 in the first few months, and the way your grades were going, you were next in line.

Every class, Professor Yunho would drag his eyes over your form as you tapped away on your laptop, making your stomach quiver and your head dazed. As more students left, he gave the remaining more attention, walking around to see if anyone needed help.

"Y/n? How's your work going?" he spoke over your shoulder just above a whisper to not distract anyone else in your area. His knuckles brushed against your back accidentally while gripping your chair, sending involuntary shivers across your body. You begged the man hadn't noticed how your body reacted to him just being in your vicinity for your self-preservation. He had. He always sensed your gaze on him while he was teaching; you weren't very secretive about it either, seeing as everyone else was looking down, typing out his words.

"It's- I'm good! I mean the work, not me. It's fine." You stumbled over your words, scared to see his expression at the fool you just made of yourself. You were stunned to see the corners of his mouth turned upwards, slightly eyes soft looking back at you. A simple smile from him managed to rip the air from your lungs so effortlessly.

In the short months that he had been your teacher, you became infatuated with the man. When you weren't in his classes, all you could think about was him. You wondered what he had for breakfast, what he was wearing today—although, not much was left to the imagination as your friends snapped pictures of him crossing campus and sent them to you. It annoyed you that they would do it without his consent, yet you still saved every photo to the locked collection on your phone. Not to mention your dreams lately; God, as if your mind wasn't a powerful enough tool to daydream with, your dreams went above and beyond; You'd wake up and need to hop in the shower from the mess you had made in your sleeping state.

The current reoccurring dream was you bent over his desk, his hand on the back of your neck and his hips ramming into yours. He grunted as he kept up his relentless pace. You found yourself almost drooling at the reminiscence of it again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. You sat in the campus café, trying to refine your most recent assignment for his class; Your grade in his class was still at rock bottom—just then the little bell above the door signalled the arrival of another customer.

Oh. Professor Jeong Yunho strode through the door, his jacket in his arm and a backpack strap on his shoulder. He carried on to the counter ordering "the usual" and sat at a table near the window. The outside light framed his face perfectly as he watched people pass by, sipping on his cold coffee before pulling out a small stack of papers to mark. You had forgotten why you were even there until some people stood in front of your line of vision, forcing you to redirect your gaze. Fuck, the assignment you thought knowing it was due in 20 minutes, indicated by the sight of Yunho walking out of the door, not before nodding at the baristas- and you. His eyes did a quick scan of you before he walked away in the direction of your next class.

You had barely managed to finish it and make it to class on time, knowing you had hardly gone over your writing to check for errors.

"Y/n, Could you meet me after class in my office? I would like to discuss your current grades." His deep tone made you nearly fall out of your seat; you were so concentrated on your thoughts on how good he looked today, that you hadn't noticed him approaching you. You felt your stomach sink at his serious expression. Had you gotten too distracted by the gorgeous man, so badly that you were getting kicked out of his lectures? He walked away to start the lesson before you had a chance to even ask for specifics. This was going to be a long few hours.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" you looked at the man sitting at his desk, like a king on his throne. Even now, you could only think about how fine Yunho looked with his tie slightly loosened and sleeves rolled up showing off his biteable forearms. The way his long fingers tapped on his desk as he looked over at your form standing in his office door frame.

"Yes, close the door behind you and take a seat, please." Your heart raced as you sat across him meeting his gaze once again. "So your grades have been pretty low all semester y/n, but now it's reaching a point where you're going to fail if you carry on." He paused to stand up, before continuing," I've spoken to your other professors and checked your files, You've always had good grades, so what's got you so distracted in my class, hm?" he leans against the desk, the same side as you now and tilts his head. What do you even say? Sorry teach I'm so horny for you please do me against every surface in this room?

"I- I'm not sure, I'll get onto it though sir and-" You feel his presence step closer to you.

"You're not sure, are you? That's interesting, because I'm pretty sure I know what's got your little head so busy, so I'll ask again. What's got you so distracted, sweetheart?" He towers over you staring deep into your soul, feeling as though he can see every dirty thought flying around your brain. He brings his large hand down to your face, softly gripping your chin to stop you from averting your gaze again.

"...You." You whisper under your breath, opting to close your eyes, so you don't have to face him.

"Quick learner." Was the last thing he said before he pushed his face forward to meet your lips. As soon as you registered what was happening, you stood up and deepened the kiss you had been so desperate for. He gripped your hips and shoved you against the desk as his tongue swiped along your lip demanding access. Your breathing had become heavy and unstable, not feeling all that attached to oxygen now that you were attached to Yunho's soft lips. He broke the kiss to swipe his pen holders and a couple of papers off of his desk to replace them with your ass. Truthfully, Yunho had already packed all of his belongings away for the day, hoping that this would be the outcome of your visit.

You rutted against his body, back arching to get friction anywhere as he started toying with the waistband of your clothes, not pulling them down yet. "What do you need tiny? You need my cock? My fingers? My tongue? Tell me what you need baby." His voice had dropped into the sexiest, deepest tone; you could feel it in your body as he held himself against you.

"All. Everything." You huff out, still trying to gain friction on his forming bulge.

"I need to know more than that my star, tell me what you've been fantasising about while I've been teaching you." He's known what you've been thinking about for a while, you realise, making you feel even hotter in his grip.

"I… I thought about sitting under your desk, sucking you off while you try to teach the class, and you bending me over your desk as punishment…" You weren't able to stop the words falling out of your mouth along with heavy breaths as he pressed light kisses down your neck, groping your thighs and hips as you spoke.

"Such an obedient student, hm? Now I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, and if you're good, I might let you come on my fingers. How's that sound, baby?" you moan at his words, nodding your head frantically.

"Words." He sternly whispered on your neck, halting all of his movements.

"Please Yunho- sir", He shivered at you saying his name so needily and lifted your hips to pull off your trousers and underwear, stuffing the underwear in his pocket before dropping to his knees between your legs.

"Am I getting those back- ngh!" A moan ripped out of you before you could even finish what you were saying as he licked a stripe across your weeping cunt till he reached your clit. The feeling had you bucking your hips into his face, but he held your thighs in a tight vice, fingertips gripping into your soft flesh. He groaned as he ate you out, mouth working its magic as he brought you closer to relief. The way he flicked his tongue against you had you grasping his soft hair. You had been so desperate to do that since you first saw him; it was just as nice as you had imagined.

"You're so good for me," the heat of his words hitting your thigh as it kissed it, before bringing his index finger to your hole and filling you. You gasped at the intrusion, unable to concentrate on the sensations as he went back to sucking your over-sensitive clit, moans spilling out of your throat.

"Sir please let me cum- I can't-" you stuttered as he slipped another finger in and sped up his pace, realising you wouldn't have to ask twice for your approaching release. He felt your hole clench around his long fingers as you rode them through your orgasm. Yunho watched your fucked out face as he licked your overstimulated pussy once more, before pulling the zipper on his slacks down and fishing a condom out of his pocket. You sat up to help him pull his dick out of his boxers, him letting out a small whimper as you ripped the condom packet with your teeth and slid it down his hard-on painfully slow, earning a pinch on your thigh. God, he looked delicious like this; Hair dishevelled, trousers just pulled down only enough to have his cock out, his tie loosened and top buttons undone, soft tummy peeking out of the ridden-up shirt as he looked down at you through his lashes. You promised to never forget this arousing image when he taught you next.

"You ready my baby? Gonna fill you so well…" He lined up his hips before stuffing you with his thick length; the ache turning into immense pleasure within seconds. He let you adjust to his size once he had bottomed out, rocking into your pussy when you gave him the green light. You were on cloud nine the way he stretched you and dragged his cock against your G-spot immediately.

"Fuck you fit me so well, baby, so good for my cock. Wanna fuck your tight little cunt every day." He bit your ear lobe as he relentlessly impaled you on him over and over while you cried into his neck in pleasure. He had a way of pounding his hips so delectably it made you feel as though you could pass out from the way he pressed into you.

"Say my name sweetheart, say my name while I claim your desperate pussy, hm? Can you do that for me?"

"Fuck Yunho please keep—please harder."

He laughed at your weak voice, "You don't even know what you want, so obedient for me though- fuck," Yunho muttered as his thrusts became more frantic. He knew you were both close as you chanted his name into his shoulder, fingernails digging into his back. Yunho reached down to stroke your clit with the rough pad of his thumb tightening the knot in your stomach, still sensitive from the first orgasm.

"Yunho, please I'm gonna come-"

"Come for me baby, you can do it, cum on my cock" He slammed into your cunt a few more times before he stilled deep in you, your pussy clenching around him in sync. He stammered out more praises and sweet words as you came down from your high with him still in you.

He pulled out carefully as you leaned against his body with all your weight, not having the strength to hold yourself up anymore, and tied the condom, putting it in the trash.

"You doing alright, tiny? Sorry for going so rough on you, you did so well for me." Yunho asked in concern as he cleaned you up and picked up your trousers, still not returning your underwear. You looked into his sweet eyes, before reaching up to the nape of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. His mouth still had traces of your arousal lingering, tasting sweet as he kissed you gently like you would break as easy as porcelain. Ironic.

"I'm good, Yunho- sorry, sir…" You weren't sure where the two of you stood after that, office yet to rid of the smell of arousal circling the room.

"Please, call me Yunho... Now, are you going to start focusing in my classes and stop eye fucking me every lesson, or do you need more… private lessons?"

You were pretty sure you were going to end the year with A++ with his special help.

OMGGGGG I melted while writing this bro, I hadn't ever planned on writing Dom!ateez bc I'm just a sucker for them as subs but this. This will not be the last.

Also thank you for 69 followers that's so funny 😭😭😭

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

It Takes A Village

Dean Winchester & daughter!reader

Included characters: Sam, Rowena, Gabriel, Crowley, and Cas

Synopsis: you’re turning nine, and the whole gang has rolled up to celebrate

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, it’s super short

When Dean went to visit Lisa on Ben’s birthday, there were a lot of things he didn’t expect to happen. First of all, he didn’t expect she’d have a son. Second, he certainly didn’t expect that son to (quite possibly) be his. And third, he definitely didn’t expect to make another child. But that’s what happened, and here he is nine years later with a little girl that’s growing up way too fast.

“When did you get so big?” Dean surprises himself by speaking out loud what he’d been thinking. You turn in surprise, your brow arching.

“Dad? You’re not gonna get all weird on me, are you?”

Dean rolls his eyes, trying to wave off his moment of nostalgia.

“What? No, of course not. No, it’s just…I mean, it feels like you were turning one yesterday and now you’re—“

“Oh for heavens’ sake, Dean, leave the girl alone. She’s turning nine, not ninety.” The Scottish accent proceeded the red head of a certain witch as she entered the bunker.

“Auntie Row!” You yell, running to the witch and hugging her despite her protests that you would “wrinkle her outfit”.

“Yes yes, hello sweet thing,” Rowena greeted. “Happy Birthday.”

“Did someone have a birthday today?” Several eyes rolled at the introduction of a certain archangel. “Oh, that’s right, my favorite Winchester!”

“Uncle Gabe!” You greeted the archangel just as eagerly as you had the witch, only Gabriel returned your hug without complaint.

“Hey, gummy bear! You having a good birthday?” At your eager nod, he continued, “Well, it’s going to be even better now, because the real party is here!”

“Is that what you’re calling yourself now?” Castiel scoffed as he entered the room bearing an armload of presents. “And since when did I become the gift-bearer?”

“Since none of us wanted to carry in our things,” Rowena stated. “So thank you for volunteering.”

Cas grumbled something about not volunteering, and you giggled.

“Thanks, Uncle Cas!” You said.

“Now now, he’s not the only one helping out here. I mean, what’s a party without the cake?”

“Uncle Crowley!” Sam took the cake from Crowley’s hands just in time for you to slam into him. Crowley staggered for a moment before hugging you back, trying not to look too pleased at your warm greeting—he had a reputation to keep, after all.

“Hello, little demon,” Crowley greeted, and for once Dean bit his tongue—he’d already told Crowley a million times not to call his daughter a demon, but he didn’t want to start a fight on your birthday. “You didn’t start the party without me, did you?”

“Of course not,” you assured him. “Can we have cake now?”

“Cake before presents?” Rowena asked. “Now sweet thing, don’t you want to see what you’ve got?”

“Hey, if she wants cake it’s fine by me,” Dean spoke up, eyeing the mountain of frosting in front of him.

One wave of Crowley’s hand had the lights out, and a wave of Rowena’s had the candles on your cake lit.

As Dean sang, he looked around at the strange group singing with him. Somehow along the way, he had found coparents in his brother, an archangel, the king of hell, a fallen angel, and a witch.

It was an unusual crew to be sure, but he knew that everyone around him would do anything to protect his baby girl.

He could think of a million safer worlds for you to grow up in, but he knew that you wouldn’t pick a single one over this family.

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