#thanks anon for setting me up for this <3

[allysunny]

Hi! Can I pls request dating headcanons for Bale Batman with a female reader who used to works as his assistant but now helps Alfred with batman related work? Like reader is not a superhero but helps Alfred with his duty? Also reader is a very sunshiny person, kind and loving? Thank you ❤️

Lover's Liaison

Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 5.7 words

Warnings: Lots of fluff, workplace relationship, kissing and making out, lots of fluff, lots of pining, idiots in love, suggestive themes and one mention of oral sex but nothing too explicit, use of the word "Batmanning", this was written on the span of 3 weeks so I'm sorry if it sucks or isn't coherent?? Not proofread omg I'm so sorry! If I forgot anything, do let me know!!!

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Oh my god!!! I finally got around to write this one request that I got mixed up a few weeks ago!!!! I love this dynamic so much and want this man to be my boss only for me to bring him coffee and massage his shoulders omg...

As stated in the warnings though, I am in the middle of my final evaluations and exams, so this was written over the span of like,, 3 weeks. I apologise if some things are not coherent or repetitive, I am trying my best but uni is kicking my ass.

Anyway, I'm sorry it took so long anon!!!! I hope you enjoy this <3

Being Bruce Wayne’s assistant meant a lot of things.

It meant you sometimes pulled all-nighters when your boss decided 8 hours of work simply wasn’t enough.

“Ah, I'm so sorry, but I'm busy that day,” you said sheepishly after Mr. Rivers from Accountancy asked you out for dinner. 

“Come on princess, can’t you tell your big boss to give you a free night? A pretty thing like you shouldn't have to work that much. C’mon, let me show you how a real man should treat you.” He said, cornering you against a desk and inching his hand closer and closer to your waist. 

You looked away uncomfortably, silently praying for him to sense your discomfort and walk away. You didn't want to hurt his feelings or make him mad. You were afraid he’d take it out on you, or worse, on Bruce, by causing harm to his company - and you couldn't have that. 

“Mr. Rivers, I – “ 

“Chet, please. Do call me Chet.” 

“Mr. Rivers,” you repeated, pressing uncomfortably against the desk, not wanting the man’s hands on your body. “Please, this is hardly appropriate. I must go back to my office, and – and – “ 

“I’m sure your boss will understand. You can’t possibly tell me he’s hired you for your skills now, can you? He understands you’re a pretty girl. Surely, he should've known someone would snatch you up, hm?” Mr. Rivers’s grin was catlike, in the worst way possible. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and tears welled up in your eyes at his insinuation. Surely that was not all Mr. Wayne had hired you for, right? He complimented you on your choice of clothing, sure, and he’d once or twice gifted you pieces he said he knew you’d look lovely on. But he had also more than once commended your work ethic, thanked you for your efficiency and praised your skills. He valued you as an employee, not just someone he could look at. Right? 

“Actually, Mr. Rivers, I employ all of my workers based on their skills,” a voice boomed behind the accountant, firm and unwavering. Chet Rivers turned around only to be met with Bruce Wayne’s hard, stony gaze. “And it seems I clearly must've made a mistake with you, because if I had known you’d be treating my employees like this – especially my personal assistant, I wouldn't have allowed you to set foot in Wayne Enterprises. You disgrace my father’s memory by engaging in this type of behaviour inside the company he built.” 

Mr. Rivers scrambled to find a reply, only to stutter a few times and shake his head, at a complete loss for words. 

“Out. Now. I want your office cleared by the end of the day.” 

“But – But Mr. Wayne, I – I have been in this company for years, I – “

“If your office isn't cleared by the time the clock strikes five, I will personally ensure you will never land another job again and carry around a note claiming you are a known sexual harasser. Are we clear?” Bruce said, eyes darkening.

“I – Sir – “ 

“The clock is ticking. If I were you, I'd make quick work of packing.” 

With a few more incoherent words, the now ex-employee was out the door, and Bruce was slowly walking up to you. He gave you enough space to walk away, should you want to, but kept at a friendly distance, should you want him. 

“Are you okay?” He asked in that sweet voice reserved for his closest people – you. 

You nodded quickly, rubbing your arm in embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn't want it to come to this, to you firing him. It really was nothing –  “

“Nonsense. He was harassing you. You told him you weren't interested and yet he still pursued you. He should've known ‘no’ is a complete sentence and left you alone. Understood?”

You nodded once again, looking at the floor. Bruce walked even closer and lifted your chin up with your fingers, forcing you to look at him – and yet his grip wasn't bruising. It was soft, feather-like. Bruce touched you as if he was afraid you’d vanish right before his eyes. Maybe he was. 

“It’s not your fault that he acted like an ass. Got it?”

Another nod. 

“Say it for me.”

Your heart would always follow Bruce Wayne. You couldn't refuse anything from him, and so you found yourself whispering a soft “It’s not my fault”, which earned a smile from him. 

“And you’re an amazing worker. You’re efficient and smart, and extremely kind. You're the best personal assistant anyone could've asked for. I hired you for your skills, not your looks. You're extremely competent. The only competent worker around here.” 

You chuckled, familiar with that line. 

“Understood?”

Another curt nod – this one more confident. 

“Say it for me. Please.”

“I’m extremely competent.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

He then seemed to snap back to reality and let go of your face, stepping back. 

“I’ll be in my office for the rest of the afternoon. If you want to, you can have the rest of the day off.”

This caused you to shake your head and smile confidently at him. 

“No need for that. Gotta make sure I do my job, right? Otherwise, who else will?” 

Bruce chuckled at this, and it made your heart flutter. “Exactly.” 

“You haven't eaten yet, so I thought…” you shrugged, handing him the plastic salad containers. 

“What would I do without you?” He asked, looking up from his computer to be met with the most dazzling smile. 

“I’m not sure. But I'm glad I can help.”

“You eaten yet?”

“No sir, not yet.”

“Join me.” 

You didn't have to be asked twice. You found Bruce’s presence relaxing, calm. You liked to be around him. Lunch breaks, just like overtime, allowed you to truly meet the man behind the suit, and you cherish that time with all your heart. It also allowed you to take a good look at him, at his handsome features, his strong jaw and hard eyes that could turn soft within mere seconds. At his lips, so often pressed into a straight line, but also capable of saying the kindest of words. 

Unbeknownst to you, he also took these moments as an opportunity to drink in your beauty. The lovely curve of your face, your sweet lips that managed to brighten up his days, be it with your words or your laughter, the eyes he always looked for when he was nervous, the body he so wished to pull close and worship. 

He was completely whipped by you. And yet he had no idea how to go about it. 

He couldn't just ask you to date him – he was Bruce Wayne. Whoever he dated would be dragged into the public light, and he didn't want people prying into your personal life the way they did to his. Worse than that, he was your boss. He didn't want to taint his company's image by appearing to be some sort of creep who harassed his workers into sleeping or being in relationships with him. He was the boss, of course, and could smother any and all rumours and make sure his company’s image remained the same as his father would have wanted it to be, but most of all, he wanted to protect you. From the scrutiny of coworkers and papers and crazy paparazzi. 

Little did he know, you’d go through all that trouble for him. 

“Be mine,” he said, forehead touching yours as you caught your breath. “Please, be mine. I’m crazy about you, and I can’t keep pretending I’m not. You’re such an incredible woman, so brilliant and bright,” he mumbled, fingers drawing patterns on your skin. “I’m crazy about you. I know I shouldn’t, because I’m your boss, but I just can’t stop thinking about you. I know that I’m asking a lot from you, and if you’re not interested, then you can just say no. We can forget this has ever happened, and it won’t change the way I see you at work. If you want to quit, you can also do so, and I’ll give your next employer the best of recommendations. But,” Bruce lifted his finger to brush a strand of hair away from your face, “I just had to let you know how I feel.”

Although only a few seconds had passed, your silence seemed to extend for hours, and Bruce was ready to carefully put you down on the ground and throw himself off his window, never to be seen again. But when you placed both your hands on his cheeks, gazing into his eyes with a tenderness he hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing in years, he felt hope blossom within him.

“I am yours,” you replied softly, afraid that words louder than those would burst the small bubble of happiness you were hiding in. “I’ve been yours since the day I stepped foot in here. You have my heart, Bruce Wayne. All of you. The smart you, the cheeky you, even the arrogant you that sometimes belittles subordinates over their incompetence – but quickly makes up for it with heartfelt apologies, because that is what your parents taught you. But most importantly, you. The real one. I’ve been yours since day one.”

Bruce offered you one of his beautiful smiles, the genuine ones that had your stomach flipping over itself and leaned over again. You welcomed his kiss with a sigh of content, and a soft sound that sounded awfully a lot like a moan, which had Bruce grip onto you tighter and kiss you a bit rougher. He was tugging at your pencil skirt, and you were just about to make quick work of his tie, when the door to his office burst open.

Without a second thought, Bruce quickly covered your legs with his arms, and hid your face so whoever had just walked in wouldn’t be able to look at you. It was the least he could do to protect you right now, but it was either that or nothing.

“I see you’re quite busy, Mr. Wayne,” Lucius Fox’s voice boomed through the office, a cheeky tilt to it making it known that the sight before him was amusing rather than scandalous. “I’ll return later, if you want me to? Or perhaps, not at all. What if I fax you?”

Bruce chuckled and nodded towards his employee. He could feel your quickened heart rate speed up under the gaze of someone else, and while he felt sorry you two had gotten caught, he couldn’t hide just how adorable you looked, clinging to him like that.

“That’d be perfect, Lucius.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Miss.” Lucius said your last name before leaving and closing the door behind him. When your boss took one good look at your face, he felt the heat on your cheeks and neck, and laughed before pressing a kiss below your ear.

“How come Lucius came in here without knocking? Where the hell is my assistant?”

You smiled sheepishly and ran your fingers through his hair – something you’d always wanted to do. “I don’t you,” you mumbled. “Bet she’s slacking off.”

“I must disagree,” Bruce quipped back, “She’s the most hardworking woman I’ve ever met. No way she’s slacking off.”

“Then she’s probably making out with her boss.”

“Only because he’s crazy about her.”

“She’s crazy about him too.”

Life was perfect ever since.

You couldn’t be seen together for obvious reasons, but that didn’t keep Bruce from stealing you once or twice. Extended lunch breaks, pre-company meetings meetings, post-company meeting meetings, you name it. You’d be on his lap, lazily kissing his frown upside down, next to him, helping him with contracts and files that had been sent incorrectly (and that he could easily fix by himself, but he loved having you near him, and you loved to help), and once or twice he’d had you on top of his desk with him kneeling before you, or sprawled on his couch with he laid on top of you, helping him with that he claimed to be a performance check.

After a few rumours broke out that you had slept your way to the top, you asked Bruce to quit the company. The women in the company, who faked their sympathy and niceness to you because they were utterly jealous of your position as Bruce Wayne’s assistant scowled once you walked past them, giggling and calling you names. You’d tried to ignore them at first, but after the fifty-second “Whore”, you were a sobbing mess, crying on Bruce’s shoulder and begging him to fire you so you wouldn’t have to deal with that any longer.

How typical of you, Bruce thought. Willing to lose your job so someone else won’t have to, even if that someone else’s behaviour is unacceptable. He knew your reasoning though, knew that if he were to fire said women, it’d backfire on him, and all the rumours would be confirmed.

It was a terrible idea really.

But he was also Bruce fucking Wayne, and such things did not matter to him. So instead of firing you, he made his intentions very clear in front of pretty much the entire company at a special anniversary dinner, by kissing your breath away. You were stunned to say the least, when he loudly introduced you to everyone as his lovely girlfriend and said that should anyone have a problem with either him or you, they should take it upon themselves to talk to Bruce personally.

Later that night, he held you tightly in his arms and kissed your forehead, promising that he would never hide you or your relationship from the world ever again. You, on your hand, promised to not listen to the tabloids and the paparazzi.

That was the first time you confessed your love for him, which he eagerly confessed back, before he was tugging at your clothes and his lips were pressed to your neck.

One night, as you were leaving a restaurant with your friends, you were pulled to a dark alleyway and held at gunpoint. The attacker, a man you did not recognise, told you to call your rich boyfriend and started going on about how much he wanted for you. Bruce did not pick up, which made you panic, and made the attacker get even angrier. But before he could do anything about it, a dark figure emerged from the rooftop above you two and knocked the man to the ground.

You’d never seen Batman up close, but he was as intimidating as everyone made him out to be. He tied the man up, called the Gotham Police Department, and you could make out his gruff voice saying something about a Chief Gordon. He then looked at you, and you felt so small, so vulnerable, so weak. Here you were, an insignificant nobody, being saved by Batman. Batman, of all people, who probably had more important things to do other than rescue nobodies like yourself.

But the gentleness in his voice as he asked, “Are you okay?” snapped you out of your trance. Gone was the intimidating vigilante. Before you, stood someone who seemed to care about you and your wellbeing. You nodded and told him you were a bit shook up. He asked you to tell him exactly what had happened, and so you did, carefully going over all the details. Once you mentioned your boyfriend’s name, Batman seemed to wince. You did not understand why.

He took you home, and although you couldn’t quite tell what, there was something in Batman’s presence that made you feel safe, cared for. It was familiar, comforting to be near him. Like you’d known him all your life.

Bruce, on his hand, was freaking out. You’d been targeted because of him. Him. Him. Him. You were going to get hurt because of him. And he’d pay whatever fortune he had to just to keep you safe, but if you’d gotten hurt, he would never be able to forgive himself.

He spent a few more minutes outside, to make it less suspicious, and tried to act surprised when you told him how Batman had saved you.

You hid the details from him though, simply saying you were going to get mugged. You didn’t want to worry him – he was too preoccupied about your life together as it was, trying not to track down whatever assholes wrote those nasty pieces about you in the morning papers, and trying to focus on you instead of the photographer three tables down whenever you went out for coffee.

The two of you were idiots, really, trying to protect each other at all costs.

It only took a few days after the assault for Bruce to break, though. He told you everything, spilled all his secrets about Batman as if he were a sinner in church confessing all his sins. You were shocked, to say the least, but it all clicked in your head quite quickly. The comforting presence, the gentleness in Batman’s voice, the safety – it was all Bruce. Of course it was.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, “Please forgive me. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been there…”

“But you were,” you took his hands in yours, gripping them tightly. “You saved me, Bruce, and that’s all that matters. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re going to be fine.”

“It’s not safe for you. If anyone finds out about me, they’ll use you, they’ll get to you, and – “

“You managed to keep your identity a secret all this time. I’m sure you’ll be able to keep doing it.” You leaned towards him and kissed him softly. Bruce responded in kind immediately, taking you in his arms and kissing you with the passion of a man madly in love. His hands roamed your body, fingers deftly remembering every curve and arch and every place that made you whimper against his lips and tighten your hold on him. Within minutes, you were laying on your back, fingers tugging at Bruce’s hair as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you, promising – no, swearing to keep you safe forever and ever, declaring his devotion for you.

Some weeks after, he popped a question. Not quite the question, but a very important one nevertheless.

“Quit your job.”

“What?”

“Quit your job at Wayne Enterprises. I can take care of you. I will take care of you. Everyone knows we’re together, and as much as I don’t care about the nasty rumours and petty comments, you’re way safer here.” Bruce took your hand across the couch and rubbed circles on the back of it, thumb brushing against your knuckles. “Alfred and I found out who the attacker was. Remember Chet Rivers?”

“The accountant?”

“To say he was angry would be an understatement. He went after you because he knew it would hurt me. I won’t have this happen again. I love you so much and I appreciate everything you have done and continue to do as my personal assistant, but if this job puts you in harm’s way again, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

You offered him a sympathetic smile. It was so like your boyfriend to put you first in every situation.

“And what would I do?”

“Anything, as long as it wasn’t too dangerous.”

“I think everyone in Gotham knows me by now, Bruce. And according to your paranoia, that’d pose a threat.”

Bruce rubbed his jaw pensively and you scooted over, sitting on his lap and facing him.

“You worry too much,” you mumbled, stroking his cheek.

“Is it so wrong if I want to keep the love of my life safe?”

“Not at all. But I also need to live, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just – I can’t stand the thought of losing you. You’re far too precious for that, and I’ve lost so many people – “

You interrupted him with a kiss, a tactic you found quite effective most of the times. He hummed and his breathing slowed as he relaxed.

“If it makes you feel better, then fine. I’ll quit.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I’ll find something else to do. Maybe I can even help Alfred around, you know. Be Batman’s personal assistant. You think he’s hiring?”

This earned a chuckle from Bruce, and a very tight hug.

“I’ll put in a good word for you.”

He did! And you got the job.

At first, you thought being Batman’s personal assistant (a title you wore proudly, even though it annoyed Bruce – after all, this had been achieved so you wouldn’t have to be anyone’s assistant, so you wouldn’t have to work) would be boring, but you quickly got the hang of it and, of course, excelled.

You tracked down which materials made his suit lighter, which ones made him faster, which ones weighed him down. You made lists of the combinations you and Bruce had come up with, to provide him with the perfect bland of speed and lightness, without making him too unprotected.

You took over Alfred’s position, giving the old man some respite as you communicated with Bruce through the intercoms, looking out for him, reminding him to take breaks and occasionally teasing him with the usual “Wanna guess what I’m wearing?” talk – Bruce would never admit this, but it made him patrol the streets quicker, eager to get home and find out just what you were wearing – or weren’t.

Most of the time, Bruce would beg you to go to sleep after he went on patrol. Most of the time, you wouldn’t hear any of it. You wanted to help your boyfriend wash the day off him, rub his sore muscles and kiss his forehead gently as he relaxed against your hold.

“What’re you still doing up?” he asked once, looking over at your figure on top of his bed. Instead of sleeping, you had your nose buried in some book you’d always wanted to read but had never found the time to.

“Waiting for you,” you mumbled, looking up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Shouldn’t have done that. It’s late.” Bruce walked over to you, and you smiled lazily, lifting your arms so he would scoot over next to you. He did so, clad in a pair of shorts, his batsuit (courtesy of his loving girlfriend) long discarded.

“Didn’t want you to come home to an empty house. Wanted you to come home to a smile.”

“Coming home to you is enough,” he chided, playfully touching your nose.

“Bath?”

“Please.”

You prepared a quick bubble bath and got in after him, sitting with your chest pressed against his back as you washed his hair, massaged his scalp, and rubbed his sore shoulders and back. Bruce groaned a few times, finding your touch something close to a miracle.

“On your right – fuck, right there.”

You giggled at how his words sounded out of context, and got your thigh pinched in return.

“Hey!”

“I can tell you’re being dirty. Stop it.”

“Not at all,” you replied, “’m super clean right now.”

After you were both cleaned, Bruce took it upon himself to rinse you and wrap you in your fluffiest of towels. You were nearly asleep to be honest, eyes darting close every few seconds. Thankfully, your boyfriend would not let go, helping you stand up straight and keeping you from falling to the side.

You were extremely exhausted, and Bruce blamed himself for that, but he couldn’t lie – seeing you wait up for him, to make sure he was safe and sound warmed his heart. He hadn’t felt loved like this in a long time, and every day he woke up and thanked whatever deity was looking over him that he got to wake up next to the woman he loved.

It was domestic, in a way.

And it wasn’t like anything had truly changed – after all, you were still taking care of Bruce Wayne, and he was still taking care of you. It was only your circumstances that had changed. Instead of an office, you worked from home, your new home, Wayne Manor. Instead of bringing him coffee, you’d help Alfred around with cooking and busied yourself with your hobbies during the day, so you could help your husband with his duties at night.

And on his hand, Bruce protected you by protecting Gotham.

Don’t get me or him wrong – he didn’t spend all his free time Batmanning. He spoiled you rotten, taking you out for coffee dates and strolls in the park. Often, you’d find little gifts on your bed, just like he used to do when you worked for him. Only this time, they were a bit more personal. Your favourite books and candles, bracelets with his initials, dresses that left a lot to the imagination, pieces of lingerie for his eyes only to see.

But most importantly, you loved each other. More than words could express. You were the light in Bruce’s light. The reason he got out of bed and downed expensive wool and linen suits during the day, and dark Kevlar ones at night. The reason he smiled more often, the reason he had began to believe in love again. Without you, the billionaire was sure he’d be lost in life. Surely, he must’ve done something great in a past one if he now had you in his arms, in his bed, in his life, in his heart.

These were the thoughts running through Bruce’s head as he held your hand. You were both sitting at a restaurant you’d wanted to try for years (“Bruce, please, I beg of you, just get us a reservation at Dorsia,” you’d whined one afternoon, trying to argue your case with a series of convincing kisses to his neck – and how could he deny you, with arguments like those?), having the time of your life as you told him about your day.

Bruce loved the sound of your voice. He’d let you speak for hours on end, about whatever topic you wanted, if it only meant he could listen to you.

In fact, he didn’t need to do any of the talking.

That night, he only had one question to ask of you, the weight of the small box inside his pocket filling him with both excitement and dread.

He only hoped you would say yes.

He needn’t worry.

If the smile on your face after he kneeled was any indication, your thoughts mirrored his.

You could not wait to spend forever together.

A/N: And that's it!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed this!!!! I'll also take this opportunity to warn y'all that this will be my last Bruce piece in a while! I have other requests pertaining other characters, and honestly, I feel like I'm getting a bit exhausted with all the writing I've been doing for him.

I don't want fanfiction writing to become a chore, so I'll be focusing on other characters for now in order not to lose this spark!!! I hope you guys enjoy those pieces as well <3

Stay safe and have a wonderful day ahead!!!!!!! <3<3<3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight fanfic #the dark knight fanfiction #nolanverse #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x fem!reader

[destielfanfic]

Group Ask #212

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Ask #1 (Anon 1 ): there’s this fic…# 1

It's canon divergent and I think Dean and Cas get together in the middle of it. But it's a case fic where demons are gathering all over and Sam calls a bunch of hunters to the bunker. They split into teams and go to the areas where the demons are gathering. Dean and Cas are a team and they go to this office building and the boss is this lady who is possessed. I really really don't remember much else but there's one part that I recall vividly. Dean and Cas are caught by the demons in the office and tied up. The boss lady tells them that they actually want Sam. Dean asks her if she really expects him to give up his own brother. She says no, but Cas might. Cas says "he's my brother too." And that's basically all I remember. Also, I think Jody ends up rescuing them from the demons. And there's an asshole hunter that one of them punches. Sorry I know this is vague but I've been looking for this fic for months now.

Ask #2 ( ): there’s this fic…# 2

Hi! I’m looking for a fic, and I swear I’ve found it before and now I’ve lost it again, BUT. It’s an AU, that starts in like Roman/grecian times where Dean is captured and Cas (I think Cassius??) is the son of the lord and likes to taunt all the slaves his father’s got. Anyway one day Dean leads a revolt and ends up getting caught and killed for his efforts, and he vows as he’s dying to find cas in the next life. And then! They find each other in the next life!! But this time they’re falling in love! And I cannot for the life of me remember what it’s called or any relevant tags. I know I read it on AO3! Thanks!

Ask #3 ( @forthosethatwonder ): there’s this fic…# 3

Hi! I've been thinking about this fic for a while and I can't seem to find it. It's a very angsty story. I think it takes place in California. Dean and Cas are former foster kids who grew up next to each other. Dean, in a more normal house with Ellen or Missouri, as his parent. Cas was in a house with many other kids and had an abusive foster parent (Azazel/Allistar?) that he eventually has to kill to stop him from hurting the younger children. Cas eventually just disappears from Dean's life, but returns to the home when he finds out that Dean's foster mother is sick or recently died? The fic bounces between past and present. I hope those are the details, it's been a while since I've read it. Hopefully someone can remember what it is. Thank you!

Ask #4 ( @loveagoodstory2 ): there’s this fic…# 4

4.1 Hello I’m looking for a fic I read some time ago. In this story Dean takes a job as Cas companion. He saves Cas at a party by bringing him a phone call. Dean has a bad panic attack in the shower and Gabe helps him. I think Cas owes a security company.

4.2 There is also another one where Dean catches Cas in bed with Meg and it’s so heartbreaking. (He was able to catch them because he was driving a different car) Gabe and Sam are at the divorce proceedings with them because Dean had to go through therapy. Gabe feels bad because he introduced them.

Ask #5 ( @heynow-urarockstar ): there’s this fic…# 5

Hello! Really hoping you can help me find a destiel fic set around season 7. Sam and Dean find Cas from the lake all wounded and take him back to patch him up. Leviathans are after them, Sam keeps seeing Lucifer, and lots of Cas-whump as they move around a bunch. Cas is blind for a majority of the fic. Been looking for it for weeks! I think word count is around 60-100k words.

Ask #6 ( @trueastoast): there’s this fic…# 6

A while back I read a longer kinda slow burn fic where destiel were childhood or highschool friends later turned lovers. They get married later in life and foster to adopt a little girl then when she’s older they foster a troubled preteen boy the Cas thinks might be a lost cause but Dean puts in the work and they bond over past parental trauma and fishing. Wish I could remember the name I just know it was an AU with a sprinkle of internalized homophobia in the beginning of their relationship and disagreements over adoption later. Any tips appreciated!

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[livelaughlovefootball]

Who do you see yourself supporting in f1 so far? Drivers, teams wise

Alright so I'm thinking probably Ferrari.

Not because specifically I think Ferrari itself as a whole is like amazing and the ONE to support.

But mostly just because I really like Carlos and Charles. So it is less me supporting Ferrari and more me supporting Charles and Carlos.

I also might be interested in supporting like you know McLaren or something too. I'm not really sure yet; I just want to enjoy the vroom vroom for now if you get what I mean.

There honestly aren't any teams/drivers I don't like right now. I either am interested, or just indifferent.

#Thank sm anon! This is like straight up a great ask #i appreciate it #gives me an excuse to ramble f1 #<3 #f1 #formula one #and ofc if anyone wants to hit the ask box and try to convince me to like their team/fav driver go straight ahead. nothing is set in stone. #my mind can still be changed #formula 1

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Hi! I just want to say love your art style! I really love the facial features you use and the body structure! Would it be possible to do a mini tutorial so I can incorporate it into my work?

If not that's totally fine :) just want to say I appreciate all the works you do because they're really amazing 💚💚

Nahhh, won't be doing a tutorial hdhdhf I honestly don't even know where I'd even begin, the only rule my style has is "looks vaguely correct" so ksksksjfjf

The most I'd do is maybe try streaming some art at some point but I don't really have stuff set up for that unless it's discord hgdgdjfjg

#knox rambles #asks #anon #THIS WAS VERY SWEET THO THANK U <3 #its be a lot of fun to stream at some point tho #the lags make me anxious sometimes though hfbdhfbg #s why i haventb really tried to set stuff up real hard yet #ANYWAY HOPE UR DAY GOES WELL

[catmanbowser]

teehee :3c

#forgive me it was 12 am when i saw the ask and i guess i was rlly tired and eepy already #sorry to anyone who saw my midnight vent abt some anon i probably shouldve just deleted it and go to sleep ;; #but i wanted to set boundaries that my shitpost got nothin to do with any canon bs and that im just some guy with a batman pfp who make art #and thank you to the people who left me messages it does make me feel kinda bad abt venting but nah its cheering me up actually #sorry if i dont reply im dont know what to reply im just glad that you guys enjoy my shit and are here to support me im grateful #and ily all <3 #ask box is still open but please please be nice or idk be silly? just dont be mean and an ass #ive made a post abt this before already and its regarding proshippers and mean asks. dont be a creep dont be a jerk block me if you can #it aint that hard #button's right there #set boundaries for yourselves too man idk who you are or what ur into #i dont like you then im ignoring ur ass and blocking u. you should try it instead of sending weird and mean shit #anyways bye #enjoy this long ass tag lol

[strangefable]

2, 3, and 5 for the salty fandom opinions asks XD

2. Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?*

I don't know if there's any OTPs in FC5 that qualify. I mean, I brotp Sharky and Hurk Jr. but I feel like most people wouldn't ship it? I can't personally ship with Joseph, but I have no hate in my heart for anyone who does.

In TOW, I uh... Millsoto makes me see red like Jake's playing Only You for me. (To mix my fandom metaphors whoops.) I'm not trying to stop anyone, by all means you do you! I just do not want to see it.

For Horizon, I have some reservations about Elisabet/Tilda and Aloy/Tilda, though I understand where others are coming from with it.

3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

No. I don't mind having people around with different opinions as long as everyone's respectful about it. That's part of the fun, tbh, hearing perspectives I haven't thought of or don't hold myself. It's just fandom, it's all in good fun, and I respect people having fun differently than I do with the same source. We're all here for a good time.

4. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*

Oh my god, yes, many many many times. Not as much in my current fandoms, as those are mostly OC x canon ships, and I'm not going to hate on anyone's OCs. (Not even ones I personally dislike, because again. People are allowed to have their own fun.)

In general, I'm mostly over white-lead mlm ships in any and all fandoms. They simply get too much of the attention pie. I've had my fill of typical slash after so many decades.

If you want some tea, here's some ships from old fandoms I'm sick of: Lassie/Shawn in Psych (why is there no Shawn/Gus, seriously wtf.), Destiel. Destiel. Destiel. I'm glad it was never made canon, y'all can stay mad about it. Nathan/Duke in Haven. It's not valid unless it's an Audrey sandwich. The OT3 is the only valid ship. They're both too in love with Audrey to see anyone else. McDanno in H50. I loved them until that was all that existed. :/

#salty asks #fable rants and rambles #fable answers #thank you for asking! <3 #setting myself up for some anon hate i guess lol #or possibly people unfollowing me #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #btw when i say white-lead i mean canon characters #i don't hate mlm oc ships at all #just felt i should add this caveat

[lonelyasawhisper]

Hi I hope you know how much I appreciate the random text posts you reblog untagged but are very clearly about Brian may. Like yes he is pretty yes he’s my idea gender presentation yes he’s slutty and yes I want to to rail him but no I will not elaborate on any of the above points

You’re welcome (▰˘◡˘▰ )

Shsjjsjhsq no but seriously I should start tagging them lol

#in all seriousness thank you for these nice messages <3 #Brian May has ruined attraction for me. he has set up some very high and specific standards for me. his gender presentation is EXACTLY what #I like. to a T. how do you find that exact concoction elsewhere #ask #anon

[lxnarphase]

guide you all the way down, be your nightlight ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 1 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : nanami kento + h. hiromi + k. choso

☾₊‧⁺...cw : fingerfucking, squirting, dirty talking, begging, deep throating condom breaking, excessive cum, riding, kento being lovey-dovey, hiromi nearly loses his mind, choso being whiny and desperate, reader is on birth control but choso is just worried about the mess of no condom, choso's part is very long and indulgent

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : to the anon who requests choso and nanami, i hope you don't mind i threw higuruma in here too, i really wanted to include him since he gives the vibes of being in the middle between nanami and choso 🖤 thank you so much for the request !

✧ n. kento lasts : entire month

you were the one to bring this up to kento, mentioning in passing that gojo wouldn't shut up about this 'challenge' he and geto were going to participate in. with a hum, he asks if you were trying to suggest something to him. if you wanted him to try this little 'game,' he wouldn't mind...as long as you'd let him pamper you all month. and he really does; he's breezing through each day as though nothing is wrong. kento's still as sweet as ever, constantly cuddling you, taking you out on formal dates, and telling you how much he loves you. he manages well the entire November, only showing weakness whenever you try to tease him. but of course, if you're going to try and break his streak, he just spreads you out on the bed, fingerfucking you until you squirt all over his hand. eventually, the whole month flies by, and kento genuinely feels relief that it's over. but he's a little shocked when he comes home, and you're dressed in a pretty, yellow matching lingerie set as you drag him into the bedroom that's filled with candles and roses...he pampered you all month, now it was his turn to be pampered.

"kentooo~" having you between his legs like this, cooing his name so sweetly, causes a shiver to shoot down his spine. you look so adorable, so gorgeous on your knees and pressing kisses up and down his length. those pretty kiss marks would be burned into his mind for weeks. but what makes his stomach flip the most? is that look in your eye. that needy, desperate, loving gaze...it made his cock twitch in your hands. "darling, please," he sighs, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. you smile at him, you fucking smile at him like you aren't peppering his cock in kisses. with a little nip to his thumb, you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. "just focus on me, okay, ken?" he nods, sucking in a breath when your lips press against the tip of his dick. "fuck, princess, god, when you suck me down like that-!" the calm, sweet environment was gone now, with the way you sloppily sucked his cock. it was so fucking messy, your lipstick smearing all over his shaft as your manicured hand cupped his balls, softly massaging them as you felt your spit dripping down to your hand. "yes, yes, just like that, princess, k-keep going. oh, you're so fucking beautiful with my cock in your throat, 'm gonna cum soon in that pretty throat," he oh-so gorgeously moans for you, throwing his head back as he tries not to buck up into your hot mouth. for being such a refined, put-together man, kento loves when you give him such messy head, seeing how your lipstick is smeared everywhere, your chin dripping with precum and saliva. you could feel him throb in your throat just from the view. your kento is so sweet like this, doing his best not to fuck your mouth. but could anyone blame him when your mouth is so hot and wet? god, he never wants you to stop, not when you make him feel so greedy. each time you take him down your throat, kento swears he's going to cum, his head lolling back again as he lets out a deep groan of your name when you take all of him down like it's nothing. he wanted nothing more than to grab you by your hair and fuck your mouth like he wanted...but he wouldn't. no, he's going to keep letting his darling pamper him how she wants...but when he keeps just moaning your name so sweetly, begging you to let him cum... "p-please, honey, I'm so close, let me cum, my pretty girl, let me cum, I'll do anything-!" how could you say no to that?

✧ h. hiromi lasts : entire month

by the end of the first week, hiromi realizes how much he fucking regretted doing this. dealing with his cases has him so stressed he's surprised he didn't go completely grey. every time he comes home, he just wants to love on you, his darling little wife, but he can’t because he’s already dedicated to beating this foolish challenge. so while he can't cum, he is sure to take his frustrations out on you. but it literally crushes him each time he makes you cum, whether it be with his hands, mouth, or dick, and you look at him with those cute pleading eyes, softly whining for him to let you take care of him and make him cum too.

you are too cute for your own good, nearly causing hiromi to cave in several times as the month progressed. even you can see how it was affecting him, as he gets more and more desperate to make you cum, his eyes always zeroed in on your face to ensure your feeling good. he was a prideful, strong man, but fuck, he was so frustrated and pent up that he started to beg you to cum. "you're close, right? i can feel it, sweet thing. just listen to your pussy, she's so wet and sloppy, just from my fingers," he groans into your ear, sounding so wrecked and needy, and he hasn't even touched himself once. but you can hear it, the annoyance in his tone. hiromi is so close to breaking, to giving up and you nearly beg him again to just fuck you, but your eyes catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. 12:27 am. it was december. he did it, he fucking made it, and you were desperately clawing at his wrist, trying to get his attention. "'romi, 'r-'romi! 's december, you made it, please, pull it out, t-take your dick out, 'romi, need you in me so bad!" with a quick glance to the clock to make sure you weren't fucking with him, hiromi lets out a delirious laugh, undoing his pants enough to pull his throbbing cock out, and he easily folds you in half, sliding his tip through the sopping wet mess between your thighs. "i made it, didn't i? i made it. so now you're gonna reward me, right?" you squeal when you feel the tip of his cock get caught on the entrance of your hole and nudge in juuust enough for you to cry out his name, gushing from the little stimulation it gives you. "look at you...I've been neglecting this little cunt, my fingers aren't enough, my mouth isn't enough. no, no, she needs t' be stuffed with a thick, fat cock to make 'er cream...isn't that right, angel?"

✧ k. choso lasts : 30 minutes

choso was stupid. he was so fucking stupid for even thinking he could do this challenge. he literally heard about it from yuuji before but had no idea what it meant. so here he was, looking at the calendar on his phone. it was mid-morning, and 5 minutes ago, he decided to do this challenge. choso should've remembered that he was a desperate man when it came to you because the second you come out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes as you sleepily greet your boyfriend, he knows he's fucked. but seeing you in his black t-shirt and likely nothing else and choso let out a shaky sigh. just looking at you has his mind racing with all the different ways he wants to have you. you’d look really cute in his lap with a blissed-out smile on your face. with a needy whine, he stands up, dragging you back to the bedroom as he greedily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning against your lips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, 'm sorry, you look s' cute, so pretty, m-my pretty baby, y-your cunt is sucking me in—!" choso is a mess, fucking into you from behind. his hands grip your hips, keeping your ass up in the air as his cock abuses your insides, his hot, thick tip smushing against your cervix. he's fucking you into the mattress, his moans mixing with yours and those sweet, wet squelching sounds coming from your pussy, sucking his cock back in with each pull out of you. "moan louder, please? m-move your head, stop muffling yourself w-with the pillow," he whines, his body hovering over yours. you can feel drool dripping from his mouth onto your back, and just the feeling makes your eyes roll back. knowing he was so needy and desperate just to get his dick wet inside of you that he was drooling all over you made your walls clench so hard around him. "c-cho, 's too fucking deep, b-baby, 'm gonna cum," you sob, hands clawing into the pillowcase. instantly, you feel choso grip you harder, barely pulling out of you as his hips slap against yours in a bruising fashion, your body jolting up the bed with how hard he was fucking you. "don' run, please,, don' run from it," he whimpers, choking on a sob as he feels himself twitch inside your gummy walls, his hips stuttering against yours when you keen, pushing back against him when he hits a spot that feels so good. "fuck, f-fuck, 'm cumming, your pussy's so good, so wet, so fuckin' hot, 'm sorry, 'm cumming-!" despite his orgasm rushing over him, he keeps fucking you, his eyes rolling back as he moans your name over and over again, begging you for...something. he doesn't notice the sudden change, but you do, suddenly feeling warm and full inside as he keeps pounding into you. your eyes snap open, and you whine, turning a little to press your hand against his chest. "cho, h-honeyyyy! t-the condom, you broke the condom, you're cummin' in me!' you can't lie, it feels so good, and you feel your head swimming as he pumps thick seed into your needy cunt. it's another minute until he's done, and he starts to pull out but sees how creamy his cock is...and the way the condom is ripped at the top. he...he just came in you. his thick cum was starting to drip out of you, and your hand came up to press against your hole, not wanting to drip it onto the mattress. but he only registered it as you wanting to keep it inside...you wanted his cum? you wanted him to fill up that pretty pussy? he didn't even realize he was speaking out loud, quickly peeling off the broken condom and lining back up with your creamy cunt. "i-i don't mind it, choso, b-but t-take the condom off b-before you-chooo, babyyy, w-wait, that's so deep-!" "s-shhh, s'okay, you can take it, take it for me, 's okay, i always make it fit, i-it fits so good, pretty cunt, 's all mine, 'm gonna cum 'n you over and over again until your a creamy little mess, baby, i-i'll eat it outta you too, promise, promise, just let me stuff you, please!" hm, maybe he'd tell you later this was supposed to be a challenge...maybe not and just pretend like he needed you real bad today.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

#choso smut #nanami smut #higuruma smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #choso x reader #nanami x reader #higuruma x reader #nanami kento smut #higuruma hiromi x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #choso x you #kamo choso smut #kamo choso x reader #nanami x you #higuruma hiromi smut #higuruma x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #𖤐 ── lxnarworks.

[headkiss]

something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

༄

Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

-

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

-

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

-

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

-

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

-

+1

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

༄

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

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[highvern]

Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them. 

So you go as late as possible. 

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone. 

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial. 

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.” 

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch. 

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back. 

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is. 

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat? 

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week. 

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips. 

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit. 

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary. 

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt. 

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!” 

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.” 

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.” 

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s. 

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up. 

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this. 

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.” 

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?” 

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold. 

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck. 

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth. 

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.” 

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.  

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager. 

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half. 

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case. 

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

[jyoongim]

Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!

This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!

⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!

—————————————————————————————

No one suspected a thing.

You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.

Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”

And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.

Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.

Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.

————————————————————————————

You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!

Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.

At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it

But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.

Especially Alastor.

Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.

Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.

A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.

Vox.

You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”

”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.

You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 

You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”

Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 

Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.

You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”

The phone call ended and you were in tears.

You didn’t want to go back. 

You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 

You liked the friends you had made here.

You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.

————————————————————————

“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.

You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.

You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.

”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”

You fiddled with your hands.

”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”

Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.

”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”

You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.

Of Vox and his plan.

The deal between you and Vox.

The reason you came to the hotel.

Everything.

”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!

Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.

Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.

The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.

His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.

 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.

And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.

However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.

You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.

”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.

”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him

He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”

You wiped at your eyes “how so?”

“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.

He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 

He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.

”I know just the thing hehehe”

————————————————————————————

You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.

“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.

Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.

”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.

Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.

”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.

“I know you will baby” 

He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.

Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.

”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 

“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”

His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.

You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.

”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.

Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.

”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.

”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”

Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.

The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 

“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”

Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.

Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.

In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.

Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.

Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.

”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #vox hazbin hotel #sir pentious

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts fanfic

[jamminvroomvroom]

4k celebration

congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.

i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴

we made up.

LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration

in which you can never just bite your tongue

eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3

songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink

2.6k words

you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.

after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.

maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?

it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.

you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.

“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.

“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.

it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.

“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.

“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.

“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.

there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.

-

turns out, you have to apologise.

you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.

so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.

but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.

“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.

“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.

“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.

“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.

the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.

you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.

“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.

“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.

your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.

“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.

“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.

“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.

truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.

as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.

“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.

“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.

“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.

“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.

“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.

an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.

“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.

his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.

once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.

“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.

“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.

“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.

“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”

“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.

he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.

“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.

lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.

“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.

“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.

“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”

with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.

“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.

sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.

“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.

“learned your lesson?”

“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.

you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.

still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.

“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.

“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.

you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.

“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.

you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.

“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.

“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.

he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.

“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”

you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.

“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.

“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.

those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.

“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.

you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.

you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.

-

two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.

when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.

“we made up.”

-

oof

-

taglist

@mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal @carlandoxlestappen

if you wanna be added or removed lemme know! :D

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton fics #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fics #f1 driver x you #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton imagine #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fics #jas’s 4k celebration #writing things #request #smut #enemies to lovers

[gojorgeous]

how do the jjk men treat you when ur on ur period? suguru specifically hehe <3

✰ JJK MEN: WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD ✰

pairing(s): gojo, geto, nanami, choso x afab!reader content: (MDNI 18+ only), nsfw-ish/suggestive, periods, period blood, period products, pet names, lots of fluff! a/n: i hope you like anon!! you have great timing cause i’m getting my period and i also have a uti pray for me besties i need help and antibiotics. left out toji and sukuna cause…. nah LMAO. enjoy, and remember ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

✰ GOJO:

Lowkey loves when you’re on your period, but is just barely smart enough to never tell you that. 

His favorite part is that you always want more cuddles, which means more cuddles for him. 

Thinks period products are really amusing– loves playing with your hot water bottle cause it’s squishy. Finds those ones that look like stuffed animals at the store and brings home like five of them for you. 

Will definitely buy you pads/tampons but not without the obligatory “what size is your pussy” text. Won’t buy them until you respond with “extra super pretty” and then sends back this emoji -> 😋.

Highkey likes period sex. Knows it can relieve your cramps and will use that as an excuse at every opportunity if you’ll let him. 

Is always on some cheesy ass shit murmuring in your ear about how doing it on your period “bonds your souls”, too. 

Constantly offers to get you pregnant so you can avoid your period for the next nine months… he’s only half joking.

Will actually skip work to stay home and cuddle with you if you give him even the slightest inclination that you don’t want him to go. 

Watches movies with you and has gotten surprisingly good at rubbing little circles on your tummy that help with cramps.

 Keeps the house stocked with candy, but, then again… it’s always stocked with candy.

“Babe. Look what I just found at the store.”  You watch with furrowed brows as he sets the bags on your floor. You’re curled on the couch, a blanket tucked up around your neck. He’d made sure to roll you like a burrito before he’d left.  He pulls out… a cow? It looks like a stuffed animal, but when he shakes it you hear something sloshing around inside. You raise a brow. “Ummmm–”  “It’s one of those hot water bottle thingies! For your cramps!” He tosses the poor cow on the floor and digs around in the bag again. “Oh my god, they had so many. I got the cow, the dolphin–” He tosses a dolphin out of the bag, followed by a puppy, a raccoon, and a cat. “Do you want me to put one in the microwave for you?”  He looks far too excited to turn down, even though you just heated up your old hot water bottle minutes ago. You smile and nod. “Yeah, baby. Thanks.” 

✰ GETO:

Mans TAKES CARE of you. Like… fully. 

Is really sympathetic and gentle when your cramps are killing you– brushing your hair back, rubbing circles on your tummy, letting you put his warm hands wherever it hurts. 

Runs you a warm bath and climbs right in with you. Makes you lean back against him while he gives you a massage and works out all the knots in your neck and shoulders. 

Buys you period products before your period starts if he remembers. If he doesn’t he’s happy to run down to the store. Doesn’t need to ask which ones you like– he already knows.

Wraps you up in the comfiest blankets and cuddles with you wherever you ask. Gives the best cuddles, too. Rubs your back in a way that has you falling asleep in seconds.

Makes sure you take your meds on time and brings you a glass of water. 

Secretly loves period sex. Will never push you for it, but gets super horny at just the thought. Loves the sight of your blood on his dick. Makes him feel possessive of you in a way that’s kind of scary. 

“Sugu…” you whine. Your cramps are bad. You’ve been curled in a ball all morning, even with all the meds Suguru has been giving you. “It hurts so bad.”  You feel him shifting behind you and then his hands gently prying you to lie on your back. You whimper, the pain spiking again as soon you roll out of the fetal position. His face appears above you, a couple stray strands of black hair tickling your cheeks. His smile is soft, but full of sympathy as he settles over you.  “I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could make it go away…”  He moves down your body, settling between your thighs and resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. You sigh when you feel his fingers skate over your tummy, rubbing little circles into the skin that somehow work wonders for the pain. You sigh with relief, a bit of the tension ebbing away. “That feels nice…”  Your body relaxes a bit, finally getting a break from the incessant pain. Suguru only smiles, looking up at you through hooded eyes when he presses a kiss just below your belly button. You don’t fail to notice the way his thumb is sliding under the fabric of your panties.  “I can think of something that would feel even nicer…” 

✰ NANAMI:

Prepares for your period. 

Has your cycle marked down on his calendar so he always knows when you’re starting. 

Stops by the store a couple of days ahead of time to buy pads/tampons/meds and your favorite snacks. 

Runs a bath for you every night and fills it with all of your favorite soaps and scents. 

Cooks. Mans knows how to cook and does extra of it when you’re on your period. Will make you nutritious meals and urge you to drink water, but always brings you something sweet if you’re craving it. 

Heats up your hot water bottle every thirty minutes without you ever having to ask. 

Lays out a fresh change of clothes for you whenever you’re in the shower. 

Cuddles you whenever you want, but only after he’s tended to all of your other needs (meds, food, water, etc.). 

Will have sex if you want, but will never push you for it. If you just want the relief from your cramps, he’ll just use his fingers to get you off and then pull you back into his arms.

“Time for your bath, sweetheart.”  You nearly grumble in protest, but how can you do such a thing when he takes such good care of you? Still, you don’t want to move. Just existing hurts, much less walking to the bathroom.  Despite your resistance to saying it aloud, Nanami still seems to understand what you’re thinking. No more than a second later he’s scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom.  “You know you’ll feel better after, love.”  You nod weakly against his chest. “Will you get in with me?”  He pauses. He’s got dinner to make and he wanted to change the sheets for you… One nuzzle of your face into his neck has him throwing all those plans out the window.  “Of course, princess. I’ll get in with you.” 

✰ CHOSO:

Is new to this stuff so he lowkey freaks out. 

Worries that you’re actually in danger cause… there’s blood??? 

Chills out eventually, but is still irrationally convinced that you’re injured. 

When i tell you this man is at your BECK AND CALL, I mean it. He will do every little thing you ask. Fetches water, food, snacks– whatever you need. 

Mans is panicked when he can’t find the candy bar you want at the grocery store. 

Happily buys period products for you but has to facetime you cause the poor baby is overwhelmed and confused by all the options. 

Is kind of attached to you like glue. Thinks you’re somehow more breakable in this state will hold you in his arms permanently apart from when you need to bathe, eat, or use the bathroom. 

Actually freaks when you have a bout of cramps that makes you hiss in pain. Cannot believe you have to do this every month and hates feeling so useless in taking the pain away. Eagerly learns that he can put his warm hands on your tummy and it helps.

Is actually amazed when you tell him that sex helps with the cramps. Worries about hurting you, but is completely down. Mans is definitely not afraid of a little blood lmao.

“Baby… there are so many…”  You can’t help but stifle a laugh looking at your boyfriend’s stressed expression through your phone screen. He’d run down to the store to get you some more pads– you just hadn’t anticipated how overwhelming the experience would be for him.  “I know, Cho. I’m sorry. Here– back up so I can see the whole aisle.”  He does as you ask, flipping the camera around so you can see what he’s looking at. You have to bite your lip this time to keep the laugh in. You’ve never realized just how many options there really are. “The ones toward the bottom right, baby. With the pink box.”  The camera shakes a little as he follows your directions, arm sticking out like he’s playing pin the tail on the donkey.  “These?” His hand hovers over a box that is pink but not the pink you need.  “Down a couple racks.”  Finally, his hands close around the right box. “Thank you, baby. I didn’t think about how confusing this would be for you…”  The camera flips again and you grin at the soft soft smile on his lips. “Don’t apologize. Want me to grab some candy, too?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @enchantedsylveon, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki, @myriliy, @complexivelovely

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

#bree's fics! #💌↬ breebox! #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojou #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo saturo #gojo #jjk gojou #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru #gojo jjk #jjk getou #getou x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #choso x reader #nanami x reader

[xiomeebo]

Oh yeah I finally got a Rui card today.

It was his 3 star from the Christmas event

#keebermeeber's rambles #Ill take it. Its a Rui card. #I also got a duplicate of an Emu 4 star I already had #and a Rui 2 star i didnt have yet #very eventful free 10 pull #saving up for when pop in my heart makes it to En #I love that whole set dearly #I remember getting an ask a while ago telling me a rui card would be available soon. Whoever that was I wish to thank them again. #cause like. even tho he didnt come home then. It was just a nice gesture. #idek if they're still looking at my posts or whatever cause it was sent via anon. but. #Thank you Rui card anon. I hope you are doing well. #I think its been a year of me trying to get him #my friend got him as her first 3 star when she started playing the game a month ago. #I was there as she pulled him #its okay her favorite character is Rui

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

WHAT IF... Tom and reader being sweet during behind the scene like you can see them hugging and just spreading love around the set lovebirds

Lovebirds || Tom Blyth x Actress!reader

A/n: thank you for this request anon :)

Warnings: swearing (literally once lol)

Wc:

actress!reader au masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

“I’ve always done what’s best for you, you have to understand that!” His grip on your wrist was painful as you wince. “You’re hurting me Coryo,” You struggle as a single tear drops from your eyes. Coriolanus smiles in satisfaction, wiping away the tear with the pad of his thumb.

“Now get fucking dressed,” He throws your clothes as you as you flinch and scramble. “Hurry up!” Coriolanus yells as your hands frantically pull your clothes onto your half naked body. “AND CUT!” The director calls out.

Tom immediately grabs a robe and rushes over to you on the bed, covering your slightly naked body as you thank him. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you too much did I?” He asks, worried that his grip on you was too harsh.

“No, of course not. And I’m okay,” You chuckle, your hand on the side of his face as he looks relieved. His arms latch around your waist as he picks you up bridal style. “Tom!” You let out a hearty laugh as he carries you out of set and into your shared trailer.

You two chose to ate lunch in the comfort of each other’s arms as you talk about everything and anything. Soon enough, hair and makeup stylists come knocking in as they get you two ready for the next scene.

Your makeup and hair took the longest but Tom entertained you the entire time, sometimes even making you cry out in laughter which probably annoyed the makeup artist who was doing your eye makeup.

Eventually you two were done and you still had an hour spare. You crawled onto Tom’s lap as his arms securely wrapped around themselves around you, your face in the crook of his neck. Exhaustion from the couple of days of filming caught up to you as you fall into slumber in Tom’s arms.

Tom’s assistant chuckles and snaps a few pictures of you fast asleep in his arms as he poses. Then, a knock came from the door and in walked Josh and Rachel. “Hey-“ Rachel pauses when seeing you asleep. A filming camera in her hand pointed at the two of you.

Tom raises an eyebrow at her, wondering what she was doing with the camera. “I’m filming a tour of the set,” Rachel giggles as she comes closer to the two. “And here we have the two lovebirds of the set, y/n fast asleep in her lovers arms.” Rachel whispers, directing the camera to your curled up body Tom’s lap.

You had no idea that Rachel had recorded you while you were dozed off until you found out at one of the interviews in London. “Who in the cast was most sleepiest?” The interviewer asks. You think about it, making your decision as you settle on writing Rachel’s name.

“In 3, 2, 1.” You all flipped your boards as your mouth drops open. “Me?” You gasp as Tom, Rachel, Hunter, and Josh all wrote your name. They all burst out laughing as you look at them disbelief. “We actually have proof,” Rachel says with a snicker as you raise an eyebrow at her. “Proof? Are we able to see it?” The interviewer chuckles as you look at Rachel.

“Yeah, Rachel I’d really like to see this proof” You cross a leg over your knee as they start playing a video that you weren’t familiar with. Your eyes widen as the camera comes up to you and Tom, you were fast asleep in his lap. Photos were also shown of Tom posing and you asleep.

Everyone starts laughing as you cover your mouth, refraining yourself from laughing aswell. “Y/n also sleeps a lot while getting her hair and makeup done, honestly she sleeps everywhere and anywhere!” Tom chuckles, rubbing your thigh as you look at him with a smile on your face.

“Yeah I can sleep anywhere honestly, I remember this one time we were in the zoo cage and I literally dozed off on one of the rocks.” You reminisce, “You actually slept on one of the rocks?” Hunter says in disbelief as she places her hand on your shoulder. “Yup. I did.” You nod your head with a wide grin as the others laugh.

~

“Tom, Y/n, what was the most least glamorous day on set?” The two of you were asked as you look to Tom, thinking about an answer. “We had a few. We had a few gnarly days,” “Yeah, there were a few rainy days-“ “Y/n drowned me,” Tom interrupts, looking at you as you break into laughter. “I did.”

“You drowned me one day,” He continues as you throw your head back in laughter, “I was clinging to Tom for dear life in that lake,” You chuckle. “Oh right, there’s a bit where your properly on Tom’s shoulders!” The interviewer points out. “Yeah and they made it look romantic in the movie,”

“In reality, I was choking for my life cause Y/n isn’t the strongest swimmer in the relationship,” You lean your head against his shoulder in embarrassment as you laugh. “No- I can swim, only if somebody is chasing me,” You sheepishly say as Tom throws his arm around your shoulder, laughing as you could feel your whole body vibrate from his laughter.

“Oh and it was absolutely freezing in that water!” You shake your head as Tom agrees. “There’s actually footage of me wrapped in like three blankets after getting out, Tom included as a blanket” You remember as your mind goes back to that day where you were shooting at the lake.

“I’m so cold,” You squeak as you quickly walk out of the lake, Tom behind you ready to wrap you his arms around your frame “C’mere”. The filming team give you two blankets as you wrap it around your frame, your wet hair sticking to your forehead.

Tom’s body added to the warmth as he rocked you side to side. “Tom, Y/n, smile!” Rachel says, holding her film camera as you pull an awkward face as Tom does the same. You both laugh at the face expressions you made finding it hilarious.

“What was the most memorable day that you remember while on set?” The interviewer asks as you ponder. “My most memorable day was probably the day we finished shooting. Not many people know this but I originally turned down this role because it was back to back with my other project that I was working on.”

“And you know I had just arrived back in London from filming it for about 8 months I think?” You look to Tom as he nods, “Yeah 8 months hardly being able to see family and friends. But when Tom got the role as Coriolanus he sort of convinced me to take this role on and I’m so glad I listened to him.” You grip his hands in yours.

“That last day on set was quite emotional for me in many ways. I was of course sad that filming with these incredible people were over and also I think just remembering that I’ve gone so so long without my family really hit hard that day.” Tom nods and smiles as he admires your side profile as you talk.

“And Tom was there on set with me and I was just so relieved seeing him after finishing that when I gave him a hug I started crying.” You conclude make eye contact with Tom. “Speaking about you and Tom, can you tell us how you two met?” A smile immediately made it your lips as Tom chuckles, scratching his neck.

“You can tell them this one,” You nudge him with a cheeky smile. “I met Y/n on the set of Billy the Kid late 2021 when we started filming. Y/n’s dad was the producer of the film and I was introduced to her by him and then yeah,” He says giddily as you smile.

You still remember that day like it was yesterday. “I came to set on the second week Tom started filming and let me tell you, he looked really good in his outfit. Like really good,” You shyly say as Tom and interviewer laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me this,” Your boyfriend looks down at you with a slight smirk, “didn’t want you to think I was head over heels for you,” You wink playfully at him as he chuckles and kisses the back of your hand.

~

tomblyth

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, rachelzegler, lionsgate, y/nxtom4life and 4,938,038 others

Do not be fooled by the second and third picture. I was choking for my life!

tagged: @y/n_y/l/n

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y/n_y/l/n: 😐

↘️ tomblyth: love u babe x

rachelzegler: first picture proves our point that y/n can sleep everywhere and anywhere 😭

↘️ hunterschaffer: @y/n_y/l/n is your neck okay?

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by tomblyth, joshandresrivera, oliviarodrigo, rachelzegler and 5,947,309 others

Tboas dump coming soon 👀

tagged: @tomblyth

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tomblyth: gonna miss the salads on set 💔

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: so will I :’(

y/nxtom4life: my parents are so cute I can’t 😭

Liked by y/n_y/l/n

#tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanusimagine #rachel zegler #josh andres rivera #tom blyth x actress!reader #social media au #social media