#and this was also an excuse to go through my art tag for him and feel soft so:)

[therealvalkyrie]

do you have any other like…tooth-rottingly fluffy Shouto headcanons? 🥺

oh boy, DO I!!!!

shouto likes to be held. he doesn't quite know it, having not had a real hug in so long, so the first time you pull him into your space for a full, two-armed, chest-to-chest, cozy hug he's a little stiff. just standing there, doesn't know what to do with his hands, suddenly unable to temperature regulate as well as he should. he expects you to let go after a moment, so when you keep holding him, that thread of surprise in his chest turns heavier, weighing him down into your arms. you get the privilege of feeling him melt into you, arms coming hesitantly up to hold you back. gentle at first, but when you don't pull away again, he holds you tight. almost desperate. his face hides away in your neck, blushing so hard it's almost uncomfortably hot against your skin, but-- you know this is worth it. you won't pull away until he does. it's important to you that he knows you're not going anywhere. no way, no how.

after that, he's the clingiest bitch you've ever met. you wouldn't change it for the universe.

#thank u for letting me indulge #i could talk about soft cuddly shouto for days and days and days #could write a fucking dissertation #and this was also an excuse to go through my art tag for him and feel soft so:) #that was nice #anon asks #ask valkyrie

[iridescentblued]

꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 !

꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: geto x afab!reader

꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 && 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw / 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni! geto is a college algebra math tutor && reader is failing, written in lapslock, geto is a tinie, TINIE bit of a perv (but we love him), not beta’d in any shape or form so please excuse mistakes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), piv, oral (f!receiving), use of pet names (kitten, angel, sweetheart), praise, reader calls geto ‘senpai’ until she doesn’t, size kink. wc; 8.5k

꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔. . .  this is my first fic on this blog and also my first jjk fic in my entire life so please go easy on me aha i tried to keep it relatively tame, but based on my plans for the future, this will not be a trend sjfigjsfgj. reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

there wasn’t anything special about your case; at least, that’s what suguru had thought when he picked up your request before he met you. before he met you, you were just another student trying to demystify the painfully enigmatic art of getting through college algebra. before he met you, he had already tagged this case as another charity stint — a good way to get brownie points with the dean’s office and the mathematics and natural sciences department. in fact, thinking of all his tutoring cases as community service made them somewhat palatable, if not a little forgettable. he was quite sure, at the time, that you’d be in and out — both of the tutoring center and his memory. such was the case with most of his other tutees, anyway. 

he hadn’t expected you to be… well, you — a pretty little thing, with your sweet smile and your wide doe eyes. on the first day, you’d stood out; you’d arrived at the tutoring center’s lobby in a short dress, knit cardigan, and coquettish makeup, as if every fiber of your being were bidding the spring a solid farewell. multiple heads had turned, including his, as you came up to the front desk and asked for one geto suguru for college algebra. you were eager for summer, suguru had learned as you broke the ice little by little, in part because you looked forward to visiting okinawa with your family, but also because you were eager to get your first semester out of the way. that much, you had in common with most of his other students — almost all of the ones seeking help in college algebra only took it as a depressing core requirement of whatever degree they were doing. you, specifically, were focusing on fashion design; that very vividly explained your attention to your looks. this mathematics class was a thorn in your side, a mandatory thing that was simply supposed to get you through later business-oriented classes in your degree program. for suguru, however, college algebra had become the perfect excuse from the moment he’d laid eyes on you. 

the more time he spends with you, the more he thinks you’re exactly his taste. it starts off with little things he finds attractive, things he picks up while he’s watching you fill out the practice sheets he’s prepared for you on quadratic equations or while trying to get you to understand logarithms — your neat, tiny handwriting, almost like print; your habit of boxing your final answers in firm strokes, even if they’re hopelessly wrong; your colored tabs, cascading down the page side of your textbook. but as the weeks wear on, he sees all the little things in between — the way your long eyelashes quiver when you stop and close your eyes as you think for the answer, the upturn of your plush lips when you have the same answer on the practice sheet as he does, the deepening of your artificial blush with a natural hue when you realize you don’t know the answers to his gentle questions. he notices that you refuse to wear anything longer than a knee-length skirt despite the still-strong winds, notices that your tiny palms are always smooth and pink, that your hair always smells of coconut milk. these are things he can’t help but jot down in his memory — that was exactly what you were, after all: memorable. 

and the more he remembers about you, the more suguru wants you. yet he’s never made a move, never given so much as a hint of his interest, not only because there are prying eyes all around the building but also because you have never so much as shown a smidge of desire back. in fact, he has to wonder if you’ve ever thought of him in a different capacity — not as a tutor, but as a man. if you have, you’ve never made that obvious; you always talk to him respectfully, the little wall you’ve erected between the both of you remaining steady, and you never let your eyes linger on his face for longer than it takes for him to explain what you don’t know. suguru has had his fair share of female students, and in all of them, he’s seen the same kind of hunger — to few, he’s catered to their whims, if only to pass the time, if only for his own benefit. but you, with your ribbons in your hair and your sweet, sweet mouth, have never once shown that same kind of desire. 

he doesn’t know if it frustrates him, but he does know one thing — it makes him want you all the more. 

he wants you even now, as you sit across from him, dolled up as usual. even now, as your eyes take on a glassy sheen of defeat, your cheeks puffing out in the way that tells him you’re admonishing yourself once again, he craves you — maddeningly so. and he realizes that it doesn’t really matter if you're not the one to fall first, as long as he can still have you. 

“time out,” you beg, your fingers meeting the palm of your hand to signal a break. “my brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“you just had a break ten minutes ago,” suguru reminds you, though there’s a lighthearted amusement to his voice that makes you smile sheepishly. “at this rate, you’ll be on more breaks than you’ll be taking the time to actually learn.”

“i’m trying,” you groan, your fingers curling against your forehead as you bump your head against your fist. “i just don’t think i’m cut out for this polynomial whatever — trial and error bullshit.” 

“you’ll hate me for saying this — but you’ll never know unless you keep trying.” 

“funny.” your sigh rustles the papers in front of you gently. “how do you do it, senpai?”

“hm?” 

“you’re not only good at this stuff, but you’re so good you’re able to take the time to teach people like me.” 

“strengths and weaknesses — it’s the natural way of the world.” suguru smiles gently at you, and he notes how his chest feels tighter when you return the sentiment shyly. “i could never do what you’re doing in your own degree, try as i might. anyway, you’ll get there. i won’t let you become my first ever failed project, you know.”

“i wouldn’t want to let you down either, senpai, but—” the back end of your pencil taps lightly against the surface of the table. “it just feels hopeless. i can’t focus on anything. it’s so… so abstract, and everyone here is talking all at once, and i don’t even know what i’m ever going to get out of this class in the long run.” 

even when you’re dejected, you look pretty; your bottom lip juts out naturally when you whine like this, and for a moment, suguru can’t say anything in response. he’s too busy wondering what your mouth would feel like on his — on him. when he snaps himself out of his brief reverie, he notices you’re looking around at everyone else — and he has to agree that with the noise level in this whole building, it isn’t the most conducive site for learning, especially when the learner is already so averse to the subject matter.

“i can’t help much in the way of it being too abstract,” he says kindly. “but it’s not a requirement for us to have our sessions here. i know it can be quite distracting, all these voices flying around, so why don’t you look for a place that better suits you, and we can start meeting there instead? the more comfortable you are in your environment, the better you’ll be able to absorb the material, i’m sure.” 

“you think?” your pencil comes to a slow halt as you refocus on him, a thoughtful light glimmering behind your gaze. “yeah — yeah, i actually wouldn’t mind that. then, i’ll look for a different place for us to meet, and we can start there next week. how does that sound?”

“whatever suits you suits me,” he responds easily. 

he lowers his gaze immediately after you flash him a blinding grin; there are far too many people here, as you both very well know, and if he keeps looking at you and your pretty little expressions any longer, he might just give them something to actually look at. 

it had been your idea, not his, so why did suguru feel like he’d dragged you into a compromising situation?

you’d texted him over the weekend that your search for a new venue had been absolutely fruitless; every cafe and study space you’d been to was either too expensive or equally as packed with people, if not both. suguru had seen the preview to your message, but he hadn’t been prepared for what it read out in full when he’d actually opened it.

senpai, would it be too difficult to just meet at my apartment? i attached a map, so let me know!

it wouldn’t be too difficult; logistics-wise, it was walking distance from campus and almost directly across the train station he takes home. it also definitely promised an environment you were comfortable in, and you wouldn’t have to worry about excess noise from any other tutoring groups. no, the difficulty really only lied in himself — you two, all alone, would certainly mean his mind would be up to no good for the two hours every monday, wednesday, and thursday you would be together.

but for your sake, he’d try to rein it in, with the operative word being try.

your place is as neat and as pretty as you are; he doesn’t know if you’ve cleaned up for him, or if you’re naturally this organized, but he likes it all the same. it smells of toasted marshmallow and expensive perfume, and all your furniture matches. suguru supposes he likes that in a woman — someone able to care for herself, someone who cares about herself. and you’re always just as neat and pretty to match, with your hair always styled sweetly, your makeup always enhancing your features.

the problem is that now that he’s in here, where you live, and where you spend most of your time, suguru’s mind seems to wander too much towards thoughts about what you do in private. he rejects studying on the couch, not just because it’s bad for posture and concentration but also because he can’t help but imagine you pressed into the cushions by his hand. he suggests the small dining table you have, but on the second meeting at your place, he starts thinking about what you might look like seated on the table, your ass hanging over the edge and his face buried between your thighs. whenever you look up to ask him something, he drinks in your lovely, made-up face again, and starts wondering what your makeup would look like ruined before he interrupts that trainwreck of a thought with the answer to your question.

by the end of the week, suguru’s defenses are all but shot, and he realizes that this situation might be optimal for you, but it definitely isn’t doing him and his now constantly straining cock any great favors.

he supposes that your performance has somewhat improved; you’re less likely to trail off when you’re thinking and can actually do practice sets for a lot longer without all the noise and hubbub around you. your only real hindrance is yourself and your frustration; you have a habit of giving into your carelessness that sends you spiraling into despair, and it doesn’t help that when you press your cheek against the surface of your dining table and whine, the comfort suguru offers is noticeably delayed because he’s too busy thinking about his cock between your lips.

“my dad’s going to kill me if i fail this midterm,” you grumble, stabbing the practice sheet with your pencil; it skids sideways, and suguru robotically fixes it back into proper alignment for you, careful not to brush against the arm that’s folded inwards, supporting your chin. “he only agreed to let me take this degree because of the business aspect of it. as if i’ll need to know about—” you check the header of the worksheet. “domain and range when i’m doing actual design work.”

“you’ll never know what might be useful later on in life. i definitely thought this was nonsense back in high school — and then i got this job.”

“and now you’re rolling in dough?” you smile slightly. suguru chuckles.

“i’m a long way away from having myself a scrooge mcduck golden pool, but i make enough to get by very comfortably, thanks to this.”

“thanks to me, you mean.”

“you’re not my only student,” he snorts, pinching your elbow; you cry out exaggeratedly. “focus up. the hour’s almost over, and you should have finished with this much earlier.”

“can you leave it as homework?”

“not a chance.”

you blow out a sharp puff of air. “my mom used to do this thing where she’d give me rewards if i did well with my homework. i wish i’d still get something out of this.”

“what kind of rewards did she give you?”

“chocolates — candy, or sometimes we’d go out for milk tea together, if i did a particularly good job.”

“this is math tutoring, not a trip to the dentist,” suguru says, amused.

“a trip to the dentist would be more enjoyable,” you mutter under your breath, picking up your pencil and doodling an angry face next to the number you’re only halfway through solving. “this totally blows.”

“try to finish this before the hour’s up, and i’ll see if i can get you something nice. out of my own paycheck,” he stresses, prodding at your cheek to shift your attention back to the paper. he doesn’t miss the fact that your eyes light up, childish as the promise is.

he doesn’t know if that’s really what motivates you, but you do manage to finish the worksheet with a few minutes to spare before the clock hits seven, and that earns you some light, solo applause. it isn’t much by way of true praise, but you flush with pride all the same. suguru packs his things in silence as you get yourself a glass of water, and you see him to the door. only there does he notice your eager eyes, your expectant smile.

“what’s going through that pretty little head of yours?”

“are you really going to give me a reward? i did great today, you know,” you respond bluntly.

“you were serious about that?” he laughs.

“absolutely. i earned it.” you raise a slim finger, wagging it in his face. he trails it with his gaze, no shortage of amusement in his eyes. “next monday, i want something sweet.”

suguru takes in the sight of you, keeping your door open with your hip; he wonders if you know what you’re doing to him, what you’re asking of him — if you even know there’s nothing that could possibly be sweeter than you at this very moment. he drinks in the sight of your feigned haughty expression on your pretty features, the unnervingly low dip of your tank top, the tempting hemline of your shorts, and feels like you must be aware of what he’s going to do next.

“if it’s something sweet you want, you don’t have to wait until next week.”

he does it before he can think it through — surely, there’s nothing too harmful about a quick kiss? he angles your chin upward with his thumb and forefinger before you can even react to his words, and he tastes you like that for the first time. you’re just as soft and as sweet as he’d imagined, if not more so.

when suguru pulls away, you step back; there’s shock written all over your face, your mouth still hanging open slightly. your voice is gentle, shaky when you start speaking.

“senpai, wha—”

“see you next week. rest up over the weekend, or there’ll be consequences.”

he finds it easy to joke with you now, even after what he’s done — finds it easy to wave goodbye with nonchalance as he walks to the elevator, now that he’s gotten one thing out of his system. the look on your face, the growing blush across the bridge of your nose and your temples is indication enough for suguru to feel confident — if you hadn’t thought about him that way before, you were sure to spend the next few days doing exactly that.

it’s exactly a week before your midterm exam, and suguru notices you’re less than focused.

he’d let you stew over the weekend, not expecting much by way of communication; indeed, his phone hadn’t once been jostled by your texts. he’d taken that silence to assume that you’d been wrapped up in thoughts of the kiss he’d left you with, and you did not disappoint on that front; the next monday saw you fidgety, flushed, and constantly faltering in your words. you asked less questions, which normally indicated a problem, but today, he’d let it slide; you definitely had a little too much on that pretty little brain of yours.

he notices you’re still dolled up — your eyelids are shimmery, and your lips are glossy; you’re wearing a tennis skirt that hits all the right buttons for him, too. it’s true that you’re always pretty well-dressed and put together, but today somehow feels different. if before, suguru had always seen you dressed up simply to look good, today it feels a little more like you’re dressed up to look good for him. he knows it’s a little bit egotistical to assume as much, but he also doesn’t miss the side glances you throw at him when you think he’s not looking at you answering your textbook or the way your cheeks glow when you make the slightest bit of eye contact.

still, you try to focus as much as you can; it’s adorable, in fact, to see all your valiant efforts to appear unperturbed. he figures he’ll play along for as long as you will — what matters to him, after all, is that you’re in the game to begin with. you complain less today, focus on your worksheets, and suguru even manages to witness the sight of your forehead creasing up as you concentrate on a particularly difficult item. you’re adorable, in the kind of way that makes him want to pin you down and have his way with you.

you finish your work without a fuss today; you only actually asked for his help twice, which was a feat in and of itself. and again, when the session is over, you walk him to the door.

this time, when you linger, he waits; you’re clearly not good at hiding your true intentions, as it’s become clear you have something you want to say. as you try to piece your thoughts together, suguru reaches into his backpack’s front pocket and extracts today’s gift — an actual chocolate bar, albeit a rather run of the mill one.

“what’s this?” you ask, your thought process clearly derailed as confusion takes over your features.

“your reward. for a good job last week and today — you said you wanted one, didn’t you?”

“but i thought—” you stop yourself, your mouth opening and closing, suddenly wordless. suguru grins.

“not good enough? i picked that up from a convenience store on my way here, so it definitely isn’t anything special, but i thought it would at least be a good motivator.”

you’re turning red, and there’s turmoil in your eyes — he enjoys this, he realizes, the way he flusters you. if he had known this would be the result, he would have made a move much sooner. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, back and forth, obviously weighing out your options too. finally, you say, “alright.”

“you seem disappointed.”

“i’m not.”

“i’ll get you a better brand next time, if you really don’t like it.”

“it’s not that.”

“so what is it?” he doesn’t expect you to say it, and you don’t defy expectations; your bottom lip just quivers, and suguru chuckles low under his breath, stepping forward just past your doorway, just a little bit closer to you. “don’t tell me you wanted something completely different?”

you don’t say so, but he knows; he can tell by the way you tilt your head back, the way your lips part slightly, the gloss still trailing along the seam. he can tell by the way your torso arches just a little bit closer, almost like an accident. he can tell by the way your eyes bore into his, almost pleading.

“what you did last week…” you start, but your voice trails off into nothing soon after. he chuckles again.

“ah, that. i might have gotten ahead of myself.”

“was that all?” you press.

“and what would you do, if it wasn’t?”

“well — do you always like to play games?”

“i have a penchant for playing with my food before i eat it, if that answers your question.” he smiles down at your still-reddening face. “i was giving you a reward, as you wanted. i came up short on options then and there. you’ll let it slide this once, won’t you?”

“you did that just because i did well last week?”

“of course.”

“well, i did well today, too.”

“you did, and that’s why you have this.” he gestures to the chocolate bar in your hand.

“i don’t want this.” your voice is stubborn now, heated and frustrated, and you stuff the chocolate back into his hand. you must not like having to ask for something so blatantly — it’s too bad suguru wants to hear it in those exact words.

“tell me what you really want, then.”

you’re still unable to find the words, but your hands do the talking for you; they press into his shoulders and give you leverage to tiptoe until you’re just close enough to his lips. but you don’t close that gap, your mouth quivering only inches away from his, and oh, suguru wants to toy with you, but you’re just too irresistible this close to him. his warm palms press against your jaw, keeping your face steady as he closes the gap, and this time, he doesn’t just get a brief taste of you — suguru claims your lips with the thirst of a man who’s stumbled upon an oasis in the desert.

you must have thought about this moment long and hard over the weekend, because the nonchalant side of you that’s turned a blind eye to him is completely gone; he drinks in your soft noises and short, breathless gasps — all signs of your eagerness — until he’s drunk on the taste of you. the deeper the kiss gets, the less you can keep up, but you try, and suguru always likes rewarding your efforts, his wide tongue taut and flush against your tiny one in the sweet, warm cavern of your mouth. he licks every inch of it, leaves the mild nicotine taste of himself there, before he pulls away slowly. your eyes are still closed when he creates distance, fluttering open in a happy haze a few seconds later.

“good enough for you?” he murmurs, tucking a soft lock of hair behind your ear. you hum in assent through your dazed smile, and suguru knows he won’t be the only one looking forward to this coming wednesday.

you’d done really well today.

suguru’s proud of you — prouder than he’s been of most of his students in his career here at the university, actually. you’d finally answered a worksheet almost perfectly, save for a couple of numbers where you’d forgotten to round up, and those things are absolutely negligible at this point (by his books, anyway). you’ve been on your best behavior yet, avoiding all forms of complaint, and he knows fully well why, but he won’t criticize you for your hard work all the same, no matter the motivation behind it.

in fact, you’ve done so good that he doesn’t wait until he’s about to leave to give you your sweet reward — which is why, twenty minutes before he’s meant to go, he’s got you on your couch, your legs spread, each one hooked over his shoulders.

truth be told, you’d been good way before the lesson had started; you’d answered the door in a crop top and the tiniest pair of shorts you’ve dared to wear yet — all clothes that you couldn’t yet wear outside yet, given the weather. selfishly, suguru is thankful for this fact, and if he had to list down other things he’s thankful for, just off the top of his head, it’s that you no longer meet in the tutoring center and that your apartment’s walls seem thick and well-reinforced.

“senpai, don’t tease me.” your silly little whining voice makes its first appearance of the day, but all suguru does is smile — it’s an almost wicked expression, set firmly between your thighs. “you said i did really well today. don’t tell me you’re backing out on rewarding me?”

“not at all, sweetheart,” he hums, pressing a small kiss to your inner thigh. he likes seeing you shiver at the contact, likes the way you’re chewing on your lip in what appears to be slight agitation. “just thinking of how much of a reward you deserve.”

in all honesty, suguru would like to take every bit of you now; you’re already so ready for him, anyway. he can smell the faint perfume of your arousal, can see the way you’re anticipating the most from him, and a part of him doesn’t want to deny you of that. the larger part of him has dreamed of burying his cock into you, anyway, and why wouldn’t he do that? but something also tells him to wait — or, rather, to make you wait, to make you want him just a little more.

and so, he decides.

his mouth finds your skin again, pressing kisses up your thigh; they get wetter, hotter as his mouth moves up, until his nose and lips are buried against your clothed core. you squirm in response, but his grip on your thighs keeps you relatively steady, even as his tongue presses against thin fabric. the wet muscle pushes sharp against your tiny entrance, the tip meeting slight resistance against your shorts and panties, but he finds a way, burying half his tongue in alongside damp cloth.

you’re already wet like this, and so needy that it might be possible for suguru to get you off just like this, still clothed, but the hunger in him spikes once you call out to him.

“senpai, please…”

with a groan, his fingers yank the fabric aside, exposing your pussy to the warmth of his breathing. it’s as pink, as pretty, as tiny as the rest of you, as fuckable as he’d imagined it would be, and he wastes no time in pressing his tongue flat against your folds, dragging it up in a wide, messy stripe; the muscle only tenses when it bumps against your clit, his tongue flicking upwards to tease it.

you’re so reactive, even at the slightest things — you whimper, you squeeze your eyes shut, you squirm. you’re begging to be fucked, and suguru’s cock is strained tight against his jeans, but your taste is so addicting that he can’t help but dive back in. his tongue eases between your folds now, spreading them apart until they’re lewd and sticky with his saliva, and the nub of your clit has grown so pronounced now — so pert and lovely that he can’t help but purse his lips around it and suck with excess force.

“senpai — f—fuck,” you mewl; you almost sound tearful. “f—feels so good…”

suguru wants to tell you how fucking good you taste, how beautiful the sounds you’re making are, but his mouth is too busy; his teeth rake down your cunt lightly, earning him a jerk of your hips, and he has to place pressure down on your thighs again to make sure you’re still enough for him to slip his tongue into your cunt.

he can tell even just by that how tight you’d be around him; your walls are warm around his tongue, and there’s a pressure against the muscle that tells him how good it’d feel for his cock to take its place. as if to simulate his desires, he presses his tongue deeper in, fucks you shallowly with its wetness until your whimpers become little sobs, broken and choked back. his thumb drags across your slit then settles against your clit, and he can feel the thrum of your pulse against the pad of his finger, beckoning him. he complies, easily, thumb tracing circles around the nub that start off slow, only for him to ramp up the pace alongside his tongue.

you’re easily at fault for that; the way you whine for him, call him senpai, tell him how good it feels over and over — why wouldn’t he want more of you?

he’s not sure which of you really earns the sweet reward today; you cum on his tongue, your cunt trembling against his mouth and your fingers threaded into his hair, but he’s the one who comes out licking his lips like he’s had the best treat of his damn life.

come the middle of next week, suguru finds himself face to face with a test paper — one already clearly marked, with a number circled on the top-right corner. ninety. a stellar grade for anyone, and especially for you. 

you know it, and you look absolutely triumphant; you’re practically shining as you perch on your little dining table, your perfectly manicured finger jabbing at the score in emphasis. 

“flying colors, wouldn’t you say?” 

“color me impressed,” suguru replies smoothly, a genuine smile of pride tugging at his lips; he turns the page over, scanning your responses. you still draw your parabolas a little on the small side, making them a bit difficult to discern, and you’ve still got the habit of not rounding your answers up, but this is tremendous work, and he’ll be the first to praise you for it. “your dad must be filled to the brim with joy now, right?”

“i haven’t told him yet. you were the first.”

“well, i’m proud of you, sweetheart.” 

“proud enough to give me a reward?” 

he looks down at you in feigned thoughtfulness. here you sit, back in your little tennis skirt, looking up at him with hopeful eyes under those long, curled lashes. for someone who spent the first half of this semester acting ostensibly nonchalant, you’d very easily shown your true colors soon after — not that he really minds. in fact, he’s taken a decided kind of liking to how eager and willing you’ve come to be. 

“we’ve only just started our session, though,” he hums out, an idle thumb grazing his chin as he watches your expression turn from bright to cloudy, the beginnings of strategy darkening your gaze. it’s not like he wants to say no; he has no real intention to. but seeing you squirm in want makes him feel good about his decision to hold out a little longer — never mind the ache in his cock even then. “don’t we usually leave the rewards for a later time?” 

“i was thinking — since it’s the start of a new lesson —” 

“we wouldn’t want you falling behind from the start, would we?”

“i promise i won’t,” you pout. “i promise i’ll put in my best effort next time.” 

“next time? sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re thinking to get off scot-free today…” suguru trails off, his hand falling to the nearest surface it can reach — which, logic seems to dictate, is your soft, milky thigh. he feels you tense under his palm, and he bites back a smile, keeping his expression level. “i just don’t know.”

your small hands grip at the front of his shirt, and he hears you, for the first time, doing something he’s always wanted to hear you do. 

“please, senpai?”

how could he say no to you? he hadn’t really planned on it, had only wanted to see you do this, but it’s still too much and beyond his expectation — your misty gaze, your quivering lip. it’s almost laughable that you don’t think he’d notice the way you shift yourself so that his hand, still warm against your thigh, slides up your skin, the hem of your skirt bunched up in the junction between his thumb and forefinger.

suguru chuckles — isn’t this exactly where and how he’s always wanted you? “how could you ask me like that and expect me to refuse, angel? in that case, i have no real choice but to dedicate all our time today to your reward.” 

your breathing hitches — in anticipation, in desire, in excitement — as his hand continues its trail upward, deliberately now, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. his head dips down, rests into the crook of your neck, and he inhales the thick, sweet scent of your perfume, your shampoo, of you and all that he’ll take from you. 

“just remember, you asked for this,” he murmurs against your skin. “so i’m going to take every bit of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else.” 

you’re so willing, so ready even before he can get his full bearings; your hips are rising slightly off the table, and suguru feels like it’s you that’s telling him to move faster. he tugs down your panties, letting gravity take its course until they’re a tiny puddle of fabric on the floor, and he slots himself between your legs. like this, you have no choice but to spread, and you do so without hesitation, your knees locking against his sides as he pulls you in for a tight, hungry kiss. there’s that taste of you he loves, that clean, sweet buzz that draws him in, and his hands are bruisingly tight on your waist as he reclaims your lips. 

you already look dazed when he pulls away, which is always cute, but a little unfair — suguru wants you to be aware still when he takes you, and damn, if he doesn’t want to take you right fucking now. he kisses you again, harder and more demanding, as if willing your attention back to him, while his hands explore you — run up your thighs, fingers brushing against the plush curve of your ass. it’s not enough, not by a long shot, and he’s pushing the waistline of your skirt up your stomach with his hands, letting his warmth transfer onto your skin; he chuckles as your stomach sucks inward at his touch, just as you let out a gasp against his lips.

and he wants desperately to hear that noise again; in fact, he wants to know what you sound like in every capacity. his mouth works down your neck, pleased to find that suckling wet and languid on a spot just above your collarbone has you writhing and whimpering. are you sensitive or touch-starved? whatever the reason, he wants to draw all of that out of you, his hands drawing back down to hook under your thighs. suguru drags you to the edge of the table, until your bare cunt is flush against the front of his jeans, and he lets you feel him — a brief tease of what’s to come. 

“i’m s—so wet already,” you whisper, as if he doesn’t know — as if you know it’s exactly what he wants to hear anyway. “senpai, please, i need you.”

“not that,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing your collarbone as he speaks. “not senpai. suguru. call me suguru, angel.”

“s—suguru,” you exhale shakily, and it’s music to his ears — as if the last thing holding him back from you had shattered. 

“that’s it — what a good girl,” he purrs, his hips rocking forward against your pussy before they retract, leaving just enough space for his hand to slip between. slender fingers trail down your folds, sticky and slick. “you are all wet for me, aren’t you? ready to take me deep inside?” 

even the way you nod, a tiny movement of assent, drives him wild, yet a part of him still wants to test the limit of your patience, his middle finger stretching to circle your entrance. 

“wouldn’t want to shock your tiny little pussy, though, would i? will you let me stretch you out first, kitten?”

“yes,” you mewl, sounding almost tearful. “anything— anything, please.”

suguru drinks in the long, drawn-out keen you set free when his digit sinks into you; he’s already felt your walls against his tongue, but a small part of him is still surprised at just how tight you are. that same part nags that he might not fit easily into you, but whatever that voice is is easily drowned out by a more assertive promise — he’ll make it fit. 

“can’t tell you how much i’ve wanted to feel your pretty little hole around my cock,” he presses on, his finger pushing deeper in; he feels you tense a delicious kind of tightness, as if it’s almost too much for you. is it? “ever since that first day you came into the tutoring center, dressed up all cute — did you do that on purpose, sweetheart?”

“yes,” you admit, breathless; the syllable is lengthened into a weak moan as suguru pumps his finger into you, slow, deep strokes that tease your tacky walls open. “wanted — wanted to make a good impression…”

“and you did, didn’t you? kept looking so sweet for me, so pretty every single time — got me thinking about all the ways i wanted to have you. got me so fucking hard every time we’d meet — is that what you wanted?”

suguru doesn’t give you much room to respond, but he can make his own answers to appease himself anyway; he reclaims your lips, already eager for another taste of you, and you comply with the same amount of desire, your soft whimpers melting against his teeth. in the space of pseudo silence, wet, messy noises, he manages to tease another digit into you, and you cry out against his lips as it pushes in, joining the first in how deep it reaches. he absorbs that too, takes in every minute sound you make, relishes the way you pulse around his fingers. even without the noises, he can tell your pleasure’s heightening, with the way you clench around him, your hips rocking pitifully as you’re eager to rut against his palm. 

“look at you now.” he’s selfish, but he doesn’t care — he wants to ruin you, and if the telltale squelch of your cunt as he fucks his fingers into it isn’t indication enough, then the way your mouth hangs open as he pulls away, letting his name fall freely from your lips, definitely is. “legs spread, all desperate to feel good for me. what a needy little kitten you are. this good enough for you, angel?”

you shake your head, only to squeal as he pulls you closer, his fingers shoving deeper into you; your hips are re-angled, allowing him to brush the pads of his digits against the rough, sweet spot, and he feels triumph bloom in his chest as you throw your head back, teary eyes squeezed shut.

“no, no, no,” you babble, and he can see the bob of your throat as you swallow hard, clutching at sense to make words. “want — need your cock, want to cum on your cock so badly, suguru — want you to fuck me, stretch me open, please —”

“greedy, aren’t you?” he murmurs, leaning in to nip at the spot he’d left reddened above your collarbone. “go on then — show me how much you want it. show me what a good girl you are, and cum on my fingers.” 

“but—” 

“come on, angel,” he urges above the squelching noises, increasing surely in volume. his fingers meet resistance when they spread apart inside you, but all it does is create a delicious friction that has you squirming in his hold. “don’t hold back. let me see you fall apart.” 

and you do, so prettily, your eyes rolling back and your voice unrestrained. suguru’s fingers ride you through your orgasm, pumping deep and steady despite how slick you’ve gotten, your juices coating his hand and wrist. he watches the flush rise to your neck, stopping at your cheeks, watches the heaving of your chest, the shine of your skin from a thin sheen of sweat, and he doesn’t want to let you come down from this high, but his cock is aching — practically bursting from his jeans — and all he can do is make the silent vow that the next time you look like this, he’ll be balls deep in you. 

“that’s my girl,” he coos gently, watching the tension slip from your shoulders; his free hand is at the small of your back quickly, easing you down as your torso falls back, and you’re laying on the table. “pretty little thing, aren’t you? cumming so sweetly for me.” 

“suguru,” you groan out weakly, your tiny hand clasping around his wrist. “cock — i want your cock, please—” 

“can’t wait?” he’s indecent for sounding amused, but even that does nothing to stay his arousal; how eager you are simply makes him want you all the more. “okay, angel — since you asked so nicely.” 

a slight twinge of disappointment runs through him as he pulls his fingers out, but it’s quickly buried by the feeling he gets once he gives you a clear sweep of a once-over; how slutty you look, still half-dressed but already half-ruined, your thighs shaking in an effort to keep them open for him, the remnants of your last climax still leaking out of your hole. the sight of you has him so distracted that unbuttoning and unzipping his pants feels like a fever dream of an act; he barely notices what he’s doing until he’s already bare in front of you, and alertness has crawled halfway back into your consciousness as you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

“it’s so—” you have the decency to blush, though there’s a pleased look on your face that tells him you’re not really embarrassed. “i didn’t think you’d be this big.” 

“does that worry you?”

“i’ve never had anyone… this big.” pride blooms in his chest — good, he thinks, because if he can’t be as memorable as your first, then he’ll take being the most in something as a prize. “i don’t think — will it fit?”

“does it matter?” he chuckles, and your blush deepens. “no matter what — you’ll take all of me in, won’t you?”

you chew on your bottom lip, as if considering your options, but to suguru, there’s really only one choice — the correct one, and you make it when you nod your head. 

“it’ll feel good, though, you know,” he muses. his hand wrapped around his base, he lines himself up with you, the tip grazing against your folds. “even better than just now.”

with just a little more pressure, he has his shaft flush against you; his girth sits against your slit, the tip pressed against your clit, and he starts to rock his hips — into his fist, against your cunt. your hips quiver, and a shiver runs through you as your pleasure spikes again, but he can tell it isn’t enough. your bottom lip is back between your teeth, and your eyes are flitting between his face and his cock. suguru reaches out, eases your lip out from between your teeth, strokes it gently, almost tenderly. 

“say it,” he commands in a soft, silky voice. 

“fuck me, suguru,” you breathe out, barely missing a beat. “fuck me, fuck my pussy, please.”

and if you ask that desperately, he’ll waste no time; he draws his hips back, dragging his cock down until he’s aligned with your entrance. his eyes are trained on your face, even when he pushes in, so that he can take in your expression — the widening of your eyes as his tip breaches the first wave of resistance, the way your mouth falls agape as his fingers dig hard into your flesh. he’s never seen a prettier sight in his life.

“stretched you out already, but you’re still so fucking tight,” his voice is a soft, melodious croon, a stark contrast to the way he’s forcing past your tightness. “tight and wet, like a good girl.” 

“so big,” you whimper, your fingers stretched far enough to tickle the front of his shirt. “can’t — can’t take it.” 

“of course you can, angel.” suguru doesn’t give you the time to brace yourself fully before he’s rocking his hips in a little more sharply, his cock now halfway into you. your fingers curl into a little fist, immediately flying back to block the noise from your mouth. “ah ah. don’t get shy on me now; you’ve been so noisy for me all this time.”

but he doesn’t really mind the way you clap your palm over your mouth to muffle your high-pitched squeal as he thrusts in fully, the adjustment period after the last movement close to nothing; he’s too busy focusing on how good you feel around him, how warm and wet your insides are. this is heaven, easily, and suguru wants to stay here for as long as he can. 

“god, you’re fucking tight,” he repeats, an appreciatory gaze running over where you’re joined. his thumb stretches over your folds, rubbing them — something of an apology, perhaps, although all it does is stimulate you more, and you shiver at the extra contact. “how deep is it, baby?”

“can feel you here,” you mumble out, your small hand pressing just above your pelvis. he feels the tightness multiply as you place pressure, even just for a moment. “your cock’s so much deeper than anyone else.” 

your hand falls away, limp, as he draws his hips back; you inhale, long and deep, before letting it out as a broken moan when he pushes back in. it drives him crazy, to start off this slow, when all he wants is to find a pace that has you sobbing, but the resistance of your pussy against his length isn’t easy to ignore. suguru works you open, his jaw set and his grip tight against your frame, and it isn’t long before he’s picking up speed, the slap of his flesh against yours fueling him exponentially, mingling with your cries, steadily increasing in volume. 

“that’s it. let everyone hear you,” he eggs on, his thumb now circling tight around your clit; your legs are quivering, threatening to close, but he keeps you steady, one arm wrapped around your thigh. his thrusts grow rougher, more deliberate, and when he looks up from where you’re joined back to your face, he sees your expression as a mixture of incredulity and ecstasy. a thin line of drool hangs from the corner of your mouth, your pretty pink lip gloss smeared, and fuck if he doesn’t want to make sure you look like this every single time he comes over. “let them know who’s fucking you good, angel.”

“su— suguru!” your voice hitches, lilts up as he presses in at a different, deeper angle, and he almost cums right then and there from the way your walls pulse around him. “your cock feels so good, fucking me just right— more, god, more—” 

he complies without hesitation, gathering both your thighs and pushing them closer to your chest; you look even lewder like this, folded in half with your sopping cunt presented to him like it’s all his to take, and it is, isn’t it? there’s an increase in the intensity, the vigor in which he pumps his cock into you, and he knows he’s brushing repeatedly against your spot by the way you’re blubbering his name out in a way that suggests you sincerely think no one else in this building can hear you. 

“that’s my girl,” he hums approvingly, though there’s a thickness in his voice that has him sounding a little more strained. “such a good girl, with your cunt all nice and sloppy for me. do you like it when i go this deep? does it feel good when i fuck you where no one else can?” 

“yes!” you sob out, your hands crumpling the end of your skirt up into tight fists. “suguru, i— cum, i need to cum again, please—”

“i’ve got you, kitten,” his tone is reassuring, a stark contrast to the rigor of his hips. “don’t have to hang on for me, you know; always love seeing you fall apart.” 

“m’close, so close, closecloseclose—” 

“let go, then,” he urges, his blunt nails digging into your flesh. “let me feel that sweet cunt cum on my cock.” 

you comply without hesitation, though if you’d done it willingly, he can’t really tell; he has to pin your hips down to stop you from bucking up and causing him to slip out, and you writhe against him as you sob in ecstasy, your walls fluttering before they clench. stray tears leak from your eyes, squeezed shut, and suguru wants nothing more than to eat you up like this — broken, fucked out. 

you’re not even fully down from your high when he feels it — that sudden wrenching in his gut that tells him he’s about to follow suit. with a low groan, he peels your thighs apart again, lets you watch him as he bullies straight into your leaking hole. your voice is a staccato, punctuating every deep, sharp thrust into you, and it’s exactly to that melody that he wants to get off. 

“tell me where you want it, angel.” he doesn’t trust his voice, sharp and short as it is now. “should i mark your pretty face? your stomach?”

“want it against my pussy,” you whisper out, and suguru almost loses his mind as he watches you spread your folds apart with your forefinger and middle finger, inviting him. “make a mess of it, senpai.”

he’s barely able to pull out before he’s spilling against you; he ruts against your slit, coating your folds and the insides of your thighs in thick, creamy white. you hold your legs apart for as long as you can until they start to tremble, and he catches them and gently eases them down. 

when you sit up to kiss him, you’re still demanding; he feels your hips rock closer, your sticky cunt pressing against the underside of his cock.

“not enough,” you murmur against his lips, and suguru chuckles as you bind your hands around his neck. 

“don’t worry, kitten,” he hums back. “we’ve got all afternoon.”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x you #suguru geto x you #suguru x reader #suguru x you #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x you #getou suguru x you

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Princess | Short #1

There's something happening between you two.

Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues

Length: 1.6k words

A/N: I will force feed you this AU and you will like it 👿

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Despite Jungkook having agreed to help you, he still continues to work on that choreography the same way as before, ruthlessly pushing you further and further despite your very much constant complains.  

Apparently, according to him, it’s not about the whole contest anymore. But instead, to teach you ‘something’. What it is, he won’t say- but you’re sure that’s all just an excuse anyways to torture you.  

But you’re not going down so easily.  

“How many times do I need to tell you that you have your own snacks?!” Jungkook complains, showing the empty bag of crackers to you, at the sight of which you simply sit in the middle of the practice room, tail happily wagging as if you don’t even know what he’s talking about. “And I’m sure you drank my water too.” He accuses, and you just shrug.  

“Maybe.” You answer. “The crackers sucked though. Way too bland. Do you always just eat old people snacks?” You question, irritating him further. It’s clear that you’re testing your boundaries with him, and most of all his patience- because lets be real, its funny as hell to make him angry. Mostly because you know he’d never actually get too upset with you- if he was to ever do so, you’re sure he’d give you a fair warning way before that line has actually been stepped over.  

Though, clearly, you’ve not really realized yet that you two have actually become closer up until this point- and that also means that Jungkook no longer tries to stay as far away as he can from you.  

So when he returns to the practice room with new snacks of his own and a bottle of sweet electrolyte juice, you’re already up on your feet, happily looking what he’s got himself- before he suddenly takes off his hoodie, catching you entirely off guard and freezing you in place for a good second, because wow. 

He’s got an extensive collection of art beneath the skin of one of his arms up to his hand even, and his physique is definitely also not to be played around with. Years of serious dancing and working out have clearly created the man he is today-  

And suddenly, your world is dark for a good second, as he pushes his hoodie over your head.  

You’re confused, when he suddenly pulls on the sleeves your arms are not yet pulled through, as he instead ties them behind your back, successfully immobilizing you. He picks you up and sits you in one of the chairs after he's done, leaning in close once you're seated, summoning the audacity to smirk at you.  

“Timeout, you gremlin.” He tells you, before he sits down next to you to eat his food, all while you can’t do anything but watch, wide eyed and completely confused.  

And instead of arguing, you just pull in your legs after toeing off your shoes, pouting to yourself while enjoying his scent. You’d never openly admit it, but he does smell nice- both the laundry detergent he uses for his clothes, and, well, his own scent. You blame it on the fact that throughout your career until now, you’ve barely had any close interaction with another male hybrid like this- so it’s probably just the fact that you’re not used to this.  

“Take it off.” You demand, and he shakes his head.  

“Nop.” He denies, and you swing your legs on the chair as you’ve let them fall down again.  

“I need to go pee.” You tell him, and at that he sighs, before he unravels the sleeves- 

Just for you to slip your hands through them, and steal his bottle of juice as you run into the hallway, hearing his footsteps loudly right behind you, hand having slapped against the door you’d tried to swing close behind you. You don’t get very far when he suddenly grabs the back of the sweater, pulling you closer again to try and lift you. “No- No no, I really need to go pee!” You deny, standing in front of him now after having avoided his grip.  

“Alright, let’s go then.” He says, grabbing the hood of the sweater to drag you to the restrooms, taking the bottle away from you. “Go pee.” 

“I don’t have to anymore.” You say, and he narrows his eyes at you.  

“Too bad.” He denies. “Go squeeze something out, I’m not gonna take you again.” He threatens, and you reluctantly go anyways, before you re-emerge, glaring at him, until you have an idea. He watches as you stand in front of him, putting on your best puppy-dog eyes, and holding your arms out upwards to him. “What.” He asks, arms crossed.  

“Carry me?” You ask, and he thinks about it for a good second, before he agrees.  

“Alright.” He nods. 

“Wait, really?!” You ask, surprised- when suddenly, your world is upside-down, with him carrying you over his shoulder, one arm holding onto your legs so you don’t tip over and fall off his back. And he hears you laugh about it most of all, your fluffy, curled tail wagging right into his face if it wasn't for his other hand holding it down as well, his own lips turned into a smile.  

Because honestly, this is what your life is supposed to be like. Happy, fun, and most of all, normal.  

It’s clear to him that you’ve simply never really had any proper interactions before that could’ve taught you how to socialize and get used to general manners- if anything, you most likely always got what you wanted just to have you shut up and be quiet. And eventually, when you grew up into an adult that you are now, things simply had gotten stuck like this. 

The reason why he thinks this, is just how.. Helpless you seem at the simplest of interactions. From simple questions about your hobbies, to normal touches like a hug for a greeting, everything appears to be foreign to you. And you mask that insecurity and lack of understanding with attitude- because up until now, most likely, this must’ve been your best defense. Everyone would leave you alone if you got cranky, and so, these days, you must feel extremely confused and without any direction, considering that this doesn’t work with him.  

But you’ve got to learn. Not just basic manners, but also the fact that not everyone in the world is out to get you.  

Especially not him.  

Back in the practice room, you’re now on his lap, where he’s got your hands behind your back, held by your wrists in his hand, grip strong. “We gotta practice.” You whine, but he knows that’s not what you’re going to do once he lets go.  

“We do.” He agrees. “And we will, once you’ve finished your tantrum.” He tells oyu, and you scoff.  

“I’m not having a tantrum. You’re being an asshole!” You tell him. “Who cares if I eat your snacks? You can just get new one’s!” You complain, and he shakes his head at that.  

“It’s not about that. What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is yours. If I want to take something from you, I’ll ask. If you want something from me, you’ll have to ask as well.” He explains, and you kick out your legs, trying to get off- but he’s got a strong hold on you, so you’re stuck in place.  

“I’m not a child!” You bark, slipping off of his legs to instead lay on the floor now. He raises a brow.  

“You’re sure acting like one.” He says, crossing his arms. “Don’t you have boundaries that you’d like respected?” He asks, looking down at where you’re laying on the floor at his feet, and you stare at him for a second with an unsure gaze, before you slowly sit up, eyes glossy. It’s obvious that sentence must’ve hit a sore spot for you, because you’re visibly fighting another emotional outburst as you try and swallow down any tears that want to escape.  

It’s quiet. Mostly because you don’t want to break down, and he doesn’t want to say anything that might set you off. He hates seeing you like this- but he knows that one way or another, you’ll have to face these things.  

“I’ll respect any boundary you give me.” He tells you. “I promise you that. But you’ll have to do the same for me, because that’s fair, right?” He asks, and you take in a deep breath, before you lean against his leg, head resting against his thigh.  

“I’m sorry.” You mumble quietly, and he reaches out to out a comforting hand on your head. “I’ll be more fair.” You say, and he smiles.  

“Thank you.” He offers, before you look up at him.  

“Can we practice more now?” You ask, and he shrugs.  

“If you want to.” He says, and you nod.  

“It’s.. Actually fun. If you don’t nag all the time.” You playfully argue, making him roll his eyes.  

“I’m just trying to get you to do your best.” He denies, and you smile brightly at that, tail wagging on the floor, a sight he’s come to really like.  

“Thank you.” You say, and for the first time, he has to admit- 

You can actually be really fucking cute, if you want to be. 

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

#steddie #steddie fic #harlequin prince #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve deserves good parents actually #bruce wayne #dc comics crossover #harley quinn #poison ivy #this bitch has been sitting in my drafts for so long guys hfjkds #so excited to finally release it into the wild

[euphoricfilter]

Could you do a bully Jungkook? Similar to Tae’s with the reader, but more Yandere? Also maybe Jungkook gets a lil more violent and reader really likes it? Pls🥺🖤🖤🖤

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐫𝐭:

pairing: yandere bully! jungkook x f. reader

genre: non-idol au || smut || fluff maybe if you squint real hard || yandere au ||

summary: you; jungkook’s perfect work of art

word count: 6.8k

tags/ warnings: yandere! jungkook, jealous jk, he actually turned out way meaner than i’d meant for him to be :’), obsession, graphic mentions of murder, stalking, non consensual photography, jungkook can’t keep his hands to himself, multiple smut scenes that include: toys (vibrator), edging, hair pulling, cum denial, very very dub-con (reader never specifically gives consent), oral (m. receiving), facial, degradation, humiliation, but reader is really into it, her panties get all wet when he’s a little mean, pussy stepping, lots of love bites, teasing in public + public bathroom sex, mild breast play, panties in the mouth, ass and pussy spanking, unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), creampie, multiple orgasms, cum play, somnophilia, face slapping, fingers in vagina but not fingering, cum kink?

notes: yes! it’s uuhh a lot of smut :D if there are mistakes no there aren’t!

rules for requests can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Please Kookie” you mutter against Jungkook’s knee, cheek pressed against his legs as another wave of pleasure wracks through your body— your arms tightening around his calf. Each pulsing vibration from the toy nested between your walls pushing your hips forwards, panty clad cunt rubbing painfully against the wooden floor as you chase release.

Jungkook looks down at you from where he’s sat on the couch, what you can only describe as a sadistic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The lip ring you liked so much glistening pretty in the orange lamplight of the dimly lit living room of Jungkook’s apartment.

And you remember the day he’d walked into class, having not seen each other for a couple of days. You hadn’t been able to keep your eyes off his lips, and of course that gave Jungkook the perfect excuse to be a little mean; to fuck you like he had no regard for your own pleasure, and you remember how bruising the kiss had been. How the cool metal of his lip ring had glistened with both your saliva as he shoved his tongue into your mouth.

Jungkook pulls his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, and you push yourself up from where you’d been kneeling to grab it. Because you knew what he planned to do, and the unnerving smile he was giving you did nothing to reassure the shake in your legs; having been edged for 2 hours you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

Something akin to a squeak slips off your tongue as Jungkook shoves your body to the ground, hand colliding with the top of your head until you’re carrying the weight of your body on your arms.

He wonders what expression you’re making. Were you glaring up at him for being an ass? Were you going to cry? He might let you have a taste of his cock if he were to see a few tears. Though he knows you’re not fond of him shoving his dick so far down your throat until your tapping his thighs to let you have a breather, gagging on his length until he shoots his load onto your tongue— watching as he makes you hold it until it’s dripping down your chin, soaking your tits in his release.

His eyes flit to your bare chest, tongue wetting his bottom lip as he eyes the hickeys that litter your body like you were his own personal canvas. Deep reds looking ever so pretty on your skin, like roses had bloomed under each mean nip of his teeth and tongue lathing your skin with his spit. Ruby roses that were complimented with a few more purple love bites where Jungkook just couldn’t help sinking his teeth into your plush skin; thighs so supple and alluring that he couldn’t help but bury his face between them.

“Don’t even fucking think about it” he sneers, and your thighs snap shut as he toys around with the vibrators settings from his phone. He watches as your mouth falls open, breathy moan being ripped from your throat, so close to relief only for Jungkook to stop the delicious pulse of pleasure.

Your body shakes, so close to such sweet release. You meet Jungkook’s gaze, bottom lip jutting out as you look up at him, eyebrows furrowing in the way he knows that your pretty little tears were on the way.

“Poor thing” he mocks, turning the toy back on, “Remember, no cumming”

“I can’t—“ you whine, hand flying between your legs, only pushing the vibrator deeper between your walls.

“That’s what you get for fucking ruining my pants with your drool. You’re gross you know that?” he laughs, “So cock drunk all the time, that’s all your dumb little brain can think of right? I don’t even know how you got into uni”

“M’ not gross, not dumb” you shudder, thighs clenched so tight you feel the vibration on your clit, dangerously teetering on the edge of your orgasm. Pearly tears gather on your waterline and Jungkook’s head tips back in a hearty groan.

“No?” he frowns and you would have believed the faux concern if it weren’t for the clear elation in his eyes, “Not my dumb little baby?”

You blink up at him, thigh twitching as he stops the vibrator, “No” you whisper, shaking your head slightly.

Jungkook laughs at you. A full belly laugh, scooting his body forwards towards the edge of the couch, balancing his elbows on his knees he bends down.

Neither of you say anything, you didn’t know what to say and Jungkook seemed to be figuring out what he wanted to do with you.

“Come here, pretty” he doesn’t give you time to respond, hand tangling in your hair as he tugs you across the floor between his thighs.

“Kookie, you know i don’t like—“ voice muffled by the hand that clamps over your mouth. Jungkook’s grip tightens on your hair, tugging your face closer to his cock, evident bulge in his sweatpants.

“Wanna make Kookie feel good, yeah?” he whispers, gentle kiss being placed over his hand where your lips would be.

His gaze meets your own, head tilting in question as you give him a curt nod. Heart squeezing in guilt at the thought of denying Jungkook the pleasure he so wanted.

“Good girl” he falls back on the couch, “come on then”

Your fingers clasp onto the waist band of his sweatpants, watching as he wets his lips; heady gaze set on your face as you free his cock from the confines of his underwear. You swallow thickly, breath shuddering as you watch the girthy length slap lewdly against Jungkook’s stomach; pearly bead of precum soaking into the fabric of his hoodie.

“We don’t have all day” Jungkook grunts, watching your mouth fall open as he presses a foot against your covered pussy; your hips canting forwards— rutting against the heel of his foot.

“You really are like a dumb fucking puppy” Jungkook laughs, hands finding their favourite place to be; tangled in your hair as he guides your face towards his cock.

You kiss the tip before Jungkook pries your lips open, uncaring if you were ready or not as he pushes your head down his length until the head of his length pushes into your throat.

You splutter, throat constricting around the head of Jungkook’s length; though he doesn’t mind, head tipping back as a jolt of pleasure wracks through his body.

You swallow, rewarded with a groan from Jungkook but you don’t have long to bask in the fact that you’d been the one to pull that out of him as his fingers tighten their hold, squeak of pain muffled around Jungkook’s length as he pulls your head up— tip remaining heavy on your tongue.

Your saliva drips down his length, your hands running down his cock before he’s shoving your head back down.

Jungkook thrusts up into your mouth, head fallen against the back of the couch as he pushes his length down your throat. “My little cocksleeve” he moans, particularly hard thrust causing you to gag around him.

“Gonna cum all over your face, don’t deserve it in that greedy little pussy” he rolls his hips, thighs tensing as your fingers dig into the thick muscle.

He looks down at you when he hears a snivel, watching as pretty little tears cascade down your cheeks like precious little diamonds.

“You don’t like that do you?” he snickers, shoving your head until your lips close around the hilt of his dick, drool dripping down to his balls. He feels your tongue lave up his length, cheeks hollowing as you try and pull an orgasm out of him.

“Want me to cum in your cunt, doll?” he asks, grip so tight in your hair that you find it hard to nod around his length, “No?” he taunts, watching as another wave of tears tumble down your cheeks.

He pulls your mouth from his length, free hand tugging on his spit slicked cock.

“Open your mouth” He yanks your hair so your head tilts up, cocky smile tugging at the corners of his lips when your tongue falls out of your mouth.

He runs his hand up his length once more before he’s painting your face white, most falls over your forehead, whine of annoyance bubbling up your throat as he slaps his softening cock over your tongue. You lick your lips, tasting his cum as you use your fingers to gather a glop of his seed, sucking it off them as he tucks his cock back into his sweats.

“Let’s go eat” Jungkook stands up, raising an eyebrow as you remain half naked on his living room floor.

Your fingers skim over your neck, “Can I at least cover your hickeys up, it looks like i’ve been mauled” you push yourself to stand, legs a little shaky, and you feel the ache of not having your own orgasm as you find yourself in the large mirror on the adjacent side of the room.

“Does it look like I care? Hurry up before I leave you here” he tuts, grabbing his jacket from the the door, “I’ll fucking pay, just hurry up”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You and Jungkook had met at the start of uni. Both attending the same art and design class, he’d been a year older— taking a year out after high school to explore himself more before he dedicated the next 3 years to his academics again. Developing his own art style and dabbling in photography, though he always knew he wanted to go down the design route.

You’d both gone out for drinks with your new little lecture group after the introduction day, a way for you all to get to know each other better, as you’ll be spending then next few years in one another’s company.

You don’t remember much from that night, a few too many shots of alcohol you’d never heard the name of being sent to your table that you have no idea how you even made it back to your uni accommodation. Waking up with a splitting headache and a dead phone, you’d asked one of the girls you’d gotten close with if maybe she’d walked home with you, though she seemed just as clueless as you did.

And you never felt comfortable enough around the rest of the class to ask if they knew how you’d managed to get home safe so late on a Friday night.

It hadn’t been until the first assignment was given that you and Jungkook had started talking.

You knew of his name, a mutual friend of you both, the one girl you’d connected best with during the first few classes, who had the biggest crush on him. Blabbing about him all the time when the two of you would go out for lunch before class.

Though you’d never actually spoken to the man. He seemed polite, curious in a way you found cute and he asked all the same questions you had so you never had to work up the nerve to ask in front of your small group of call mates either. There were only 6 of you in the class, all a lot older than you, your friend and Jungkook. And maybe that’s why you hadn’t formed much of a connection with them.

Your first assignment had been the perfect excuse for your new friend to spend the afternoon with her new crush, inviting him along with you to a museum where you’d be looking for a specific artist to study.

The issue was, she was prone to being late. You’d been stood outside the museum by yourself, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, chatter muffled as you pay attention to the museums website— working out a floor plan so you could all make it round the exhibits before the place closed in a few hours.

You hadn’t noticed Jungkook wander up the stairs, eyes raking over your body.

You looked so pretty, stood there in the cutest little skirt he’d ever seen— it would be ever so easy to just flip it over your hips, and ever so easy to slip your panties to the side and make everyone stood outside the museum watch him pound into your tight little cunt.

He wonders how long it would take him to make you his. He’d had his eyes on you the minute you’d crept into the art studio a couple of weeks ago. Each day between classes feeling like too much time away from you that he started getting to see you in other ways.

It had started with him following you back to your uni accommodation, simply checking you were okay on your way home after class. Camera zoomed in just enough that he was able to catch the passcode into your building.

Taking your picture had become his favourite hobby. Watching you just live day to day. Photos of you in the supermarket, the fruit vibrant but you stood out the most, so effortlessly ethereal that he didn’t know if he wanted to crawl into your skin or keep you as his pretty little pet that he showed off to the world.

He liked taking pictures of you when you visited the pool, it had taken hours before you’d been comfortable enough to shuck off the large shirt, the cutest little two piece he’d ever seen hugging your body so effortlessly, those pictures being kept in a special folder for when his cock strained in his pants and he needed a quick release.

Photos had turned into daydreams. He wonders what you’d sound like, body caged with his own, painted red by his mouth as he sucks his claim into your skin.

Your body the perfect canvas for him to explore.

He’d learn every crevice of your body. Worship each inch of skin that he could get his lips on before fucking you like nothing more than a common whore who needed to learn their place. Oh the joy it would bring him, luring such a delicate, pretty little thing into his hold before breaking you down.

He wonders if you like it rough. If you’d let him chuck you over his lap as he slaps both your ass cheeks. You wouldn’t have done anything wrong, too pure and perfect to be his little brat. But he’d spank you anyways, maybe going as far to spank your needy cunt as well until you came from that alone.

His fantasies were endless as he watched over you.

Jungkook shoves your shoulders, your eyes widening in shock as you stumble forwards.

Your head whips around, meeting Jungkook’s cheeky grin. You open your mouth, only choosing to close it when you realise you didn’t know what to say to him.

“Where’s your friend?” he asks, watching you shrug.

“Not sure. She’s usually late” you give him a half-hearted smile.

“I don’t think we’ve probably introduced ourselves” he rocks on his feet, “I’m Jungkook” he outstretches his hand, ready for you to shake.

You look at it for a second, “I know. I’m Y/n” you take his hand, eyebrows furrowing at his harsh grip. You go to pull your hand away, Jungkook holding it a little longer than necessary, your fingers going lax in his grip. And you release a breath you never knew you were holding when he finally lets go.

“Sorry I’m late!” your friend calls out, and you thank your lucky stars that she’d shown up. Jungkook’s whole aura seeming to brighten as he gives her an easy smile.

“It’s fine” he waves her off, “Ready to go inside?”

You trail behind the two of them as they wander towards the entrance. You tug on the hem of your friend’s jumper, frown tugging at your lips as she looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What?” she whispers, and you swallow thickly at her tone.

“I thought we could go upstairs first, they have some work by—“

“No” she cuts you off, “Let’s just go this way” she shrugs your fingers off her jumper, turning towards Jungkook who simply looks between the two of you.

“Sorry, she can be a little bit of a control freak sometimes” she giggles, so sweet that it tastes tangy on your tongue— off remark itching at your brain the wrong way. Though you say nothing. What could you do? Accuse her of being weird in-front of Jungkook— surely he’d think you were just causing a scene.

You stay quite after that, watching as your friend completely ignores your existence. Hands running over Jungkook’s arm, deprecating comments pointed in your direction when she thinks you’re out of ear shot.

You choose to ignore her, deciding that maybe you needed a new friend if this was how she was going to act around you.

It had been hard, moving away from home alone, not knowing anyone in the course you were taking— she’d been your little escape. An easy friend who didn’t seem to mind that you were a little awkward socially, though her comments to Jungkook seemed to depict another picture.

At some point you’d lost the two of them. Wandering around the exhibits you had wanted to see before you’s followed the two of them round like a lost puppy, acting like a third wheel when the two of them hadn’t had more than a few conversations before today.

You let out what can only be described as a squeak when a heavy hand falls on your shoulder.

You look behind you, head tilting up to meet Jungkook’s hard gaze. You blink, heart still hammering against your rib cage from the little scare he’d given you.

“Naughty thing, wandering out of my sight” he places his other hand on your shoulder.

You swallow, “Sorry?” is all you manage before Jungkook is tugging you into his chest.

One of his arms snake around your shoulders, holding you in place as his other hand wanders down your body.

“Where’s—“ you’re cut off by Jungkook’s fingers deftly pressing against your panty covered clit, your thighs twitching as Jungkook kicks your legs open a little wider.

“Did I say you could wander off?” he rests his cheek against the top of your head.

You hesitantly shake your head, mind racing a mile a minute as you try and catch up with what was happening.

You’d just met Jungkook formally, mind reeling at how familiar he was acting.

Your hand shoots to cover your mouth as Jungkook’s hand rains down a slap over your covered cunt. Your free hand shoots to grab his wrist, aware he was planning to unleash another mean slap against your pussy.

“Jungkook?” you whisper, aware that other people may start to wander into this part of the exhibit any moment.

“hmm?” he hums, arm moving to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” your voice quivers, fingers loosening their grip on his wrist as he leans down, lips skimming against the sensitive skin of your neck.

Your breath stutters as you feel his teeth graze the skin at the back of your shoulder, pulling your jumper down just enough to expose your bare skin, his for the taking.

He notices the lack of bra, deep groan rumbling through his chest as you feel the vibration against your back.

Your mouth tips open as he leave a wet kiss against your skin, hand that had been holding your face slowly trailing down your body until it toys with the hem of your jumper. Cold fingers grazing the slither of skin on show before they’re gliding over your bare stomach, prickly goosebumps left in the wake of his hands.

You feel the tips of his fingers brush the underside of your boob, gently tracing the curve as his tongue peeks out— tasting your skin.

You cover your mouth with your hand, thighs clenching shut as he runs a finger over your covered folds. You feel his teeth nip at your shoulder, muffled whine vibrating into your palm as Jungkook pinches one of your nipples.

With one last mean slap to your cunt, resulting in a soft moan from you, Jungkook steps away from you. Hands retreating from under your shirt, leaving you cold— yearning for his warmth as you try and fall back into his chest. Only to be met with thin air.

“Remember” he starts, causing your head to snap towards where he stands, by your side with nothing more than an inch of space between you, “No more running out of my sight. Got it?”

Your eyes flit across his side profile, eyebrow piercing catching the fluorescent lights of the open hall, glinting like a little speck of star dust on his face. You blink slowly, mind slowly processing his words, and maybe if you had the confidence you’d have told him to fuck off.

But you don’t.

Because his tone was final. You gathered that much and you weren’t stupid enough to try and aggravate him.

“Got it?” he repeats, head turning towards you. Your eyes meet, throat dry as you nod, eyes locked on the abyss in his almost black eyes— an endless pool of nothing that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. What lay beyond, you’re unsure; but if you knew anything, it was that Jungkook was trouble.

“Good” he hums, turning back to the painting before the both of you.

“Ah!” your friends shrill voice cuts off the silence, shattering the tense atmosphere, and suddenly your mind was clouded with annoyance rather than the chill of Jungkook’s cold stare, “There you are”

She completely ignores you, skipping towards Jungkook’s side.

“Must have wandered off without realising. I found Y/n though” he grins, turning towards you. You who can only manage a tight lipped smile towards your friend.

“I see” she murmurs, eyes trailing towards the slowly growing purple mark on the back of your shoulder— Jungkook having left the neckline askew when he’d back away from you.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend” she comments and your eyes widen.

“I don’t?” your eyebrows furrow, unaware of where she could have gotten that assumption from.

“Didn’t think you were one for hook ups then” he giggles, “That’s a little whorish, don’t you think?”

She looks up at Jungkook, as if asking for some sick approval from him. She doesn’t seem to notice how his jaw tightens. And neither do you, too busy trying to get a look at the hickey on the back of your shoulder.

Your cheeks flush red as you gather it was Jungkook’s doing, and you feel some sort of relief your friend wasn’t a mind-reader. She’d be absolutely crushed if she found out the boy she really liked had been giving you hickeys in the abstract art exhibit; especially since she’d been the one to ask him to join the two of you.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Jungkook had walked you back to your accommodation that day, your friend living in the quarters across the street from you, though Jungkook had had to go another way home after making sure you were safely inside your building to the displeasure of your friend.

You didn’t have his number, so you hadn’t been able to thank him over text. Instead choosing to stop by a convenience store on the way to class a few days later, a small gesture of thanks that you hoped he appreciated. He hadn’t said thank you, but he hadn’t exactly being rude and pushed you away either so you took it as a win.

Your friend hadn’t shown up to lecture that day. And although it had become common habit for a lot of your classmates to start skipping, she’d made it a point that she wouldn’t miss a day if it meant she could see Jungkook’s handsome face.

You’d texted her after class, hoping maybe she was just sick and you could fill her in on what she’d missed; though it hadn’t been much. Only a reminder that your first graded assignment was due in a couple of weeks where media selection was important along with the format of your work.

The walk back to your room hadn’t been pleasant. Lurking shadows following you like the plague. It was strange that even with what you assume to be hundreds of people mindlessly roaming the streets, you could feel a pair of eyes following your ever move. Every corner you turned, unease would trickle down your spine.

You’d been surprised when you’d gotten back to your room, two police officers stood outside your door. And you think maybe your heart stops beating, clawing it’s way up your throat as they ask to escort you to the nearby station for questioning.

Something about your friend. You hadn’t been able to hear exactly what they needed, voices garbled like they were underwater as you’d just dumbly nodded as their lips moved— letting them lead you to the flashy police car parked down the road.

You turn towards Jungkook as he takes a seat beside you in the police station. Your fingers fidget with the hem of your sweater, leg bouncing anxiously as you both wait for an assigned officer to come into the questioning room.

It was cold. Mostly made of concrete and if it weren’t for the little red light blinking in the corner of the room, you might have started balling your eyes by now. Anxiety spiking as seconds feel as though they stretch on for hours.

Jungkook’s hand is heavy as he places it over your thigh, “Fucking annoying” he grunt and you whisper an apology, back straightening as the door opens.

“Ah you’re both here” the officer takes a seat, manilla folder dropped onto the table between the three of you.

You’re blinking up at the officer and next thing you know your face is being pushed into the mirror of the police station’s bathrooms.

Jungkook careless as he tugs your pants down your thighs, hands roaming over your ass cheeks.

“Jungkook?” you ask, unsure exactly how you’d gotten here. The last hour nothing more than a swirl of colours that may have been mesmerising if they had been on a canvas, but it had only thrown you off balance and now you find yourself alone; with Jungkook again.

“Gonna make you feel better, baby. She wasn’t worth your time anyways, probably better off dead than spewing shit like she was the other day” he runs a hand over your cunt, easy smile on his face as he feels them dampen under his touch.

“I don’t think—“ you’re cut off as he presses down on your clit. Pressure just right that you feel numbing pleasure crawl down your body until you’re leaking another wad of slick into your underwear.

“Shhh” he hushes, “Kookie’s gonna make both of us feel real good, got it?” he asks, wet kiss being pressed over the fading love bite as your nod. A little too dazed with the added pressure on your clit to fully understand what he could be implying.

He thinks you look prettiest like this, eyes red and face a little blotchy, though he thinks you’d wasted your tears of a entitled piece of shit that clearly didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut.

So Jungkook did the only reasonable thing he could think to do. And he thinks maybe her shrill cries were a tiny bit more bearable than her grating voice.

It had been amusing, watching her face twist in an unexplainable amount of pain. Bones treated like twigs under his boot as he mercilessly crushed them into fine powder, stained red with her own blood.

Jungkook fingers hook into the waste band of your panties, uncaring as he rips them from your hips. Your mouth falls open in protest only the next moment you’re gagging on them as he shoves them inside your mouth.

“Whores don’t need to talk” he grunts, pushing his own sweats down around his ankles.

Jungkook doesn’t bother fingering you open before he’s pushing in raw, head tipping backwards as your walls pull him in. He thinks he can cum from this alone; your walls rhythmically clenching around his length as he slowly pushes into you. Basking in the soft warmth.

His pelvis meets your ass, hips circling slowly as your fingers grasp the edge of the counter.

Your eyes brim with tears at the stretch, thighs barely keeping you up, and if it weren’t for the harsh grip Jungkook had on your hips you doubted you’d be able to stand alone.

And all Jungkook can think about is how pretty you’ll be, hand-shaped bruises on your hips and pussy painted white with his cum.

He doesn’t give you any sort of warning before he’s pulling out, head still nestled between your walls before he’s snapping his hips forward.

He briefly wonders if everyone outside can hear the lewd squelch of your cunt creaming around his cock, folds creamy white each time he pulls out only to punch back into you.

You drool around your panties, moans muffled by cotton. Plush clouds muffling your ears of Jungkook’s unabashed moans as you feel yourself slowly climb towards your peak.

Jungkook never lets up on his thrusts, hand travelling from your hips up your body until he’s pushing you flat against the counter from the back of your neck.

Your hips start to feel sore as they bash against the marble counter with each thrust into you, Jungkook making sure he’s balls deep inside of you.

It’s when a finger starts to draw tight circles on your clit, Jungkook has to wrap an arm around your waist as to not have you topple over onto the grimy floor.

“Cum for me” he grunts, thrusts turning jittery as he slowly reaches his own end.

Your eyes flit up to get a look at yourself in the mirror, face a little flushed, hips red from Jungkook’s hands. Those same hands that flick at your clit, unrelenting as he continues to snap his hips into you.

Your eyes squeeze shut, thighs starting to shake as you reach your peek. Orgasm wracking through your body in heavy waves as Jungkook pushes you through it. Hips continuing to smack against your ass.

His fingers stop flicking at your clit when you start to snivel, bordering overstimulation as his cock twitches between your sodden walls.

Your breath hitches when you feel his warm cum flood your insides, painting you his from the inside. You feel each spurt of cum as he gives you another shallow thrust, pushing it further into your soiled pussy before he’s pulling out.

Your body shakes in the aftershock of your orgasm, fingers prying your ruined underwear from between your lips as you watch Jungkook pull his sweats back up from around his ankles.

You feel his cum dribbles out of your hole, thick globs of white painting your thighs as Jungkook runs his hands over your ass.

You watch him raise his hand, hearing it before you feel the prickly pain sear across your skin from the impact of his hand.

“See you in a few days” he waves over his shoulder before stalking across the bathroom, unlocking the door and leaving you to slouch against the counter.

You watch the door click shut through the mirror. Heart rate turning mellow as your body starts to calm down.

You reach back, fingers gathering up Jungkook’s cum onto your fingers before you’re shoving them into your mouth.

You make eye contact with yourself in the mirror, wobbly smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you let the feeling of being used and left sink in.

And the fucked up thing was, you liked it.

Arousal starting to seep out of your cunt at the thought of Jungkook fucking you like his own personal fleshlight in the dingy police station bathrooms.

Your hand flies between your legs, holding it over your pussy as your thighs clench— clit pulsing in need, that you start to rut against the palm of your hand until you’re shaking with another orgasm.

You push whatever was left of Jungkook’s seed back into you, hole clenching to keep any more from leaking out of you as you shakily stand, trying to fix your hair a little in the mirror before you’re tugging your pants back up your legs; panties long forgotten in the trash.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You saw a lot more of Jungkook after that.

He’d joined the textiles club your professor had suggested to the class at the start of the semester. Work desk conveniently shared with you.

He’d started dragging you along with him and his group of friends when they’d go out on Fridays.

A new restaurant each week.

All of his friends were nice.

Too nice in Jungkook’s opinion.

He hadn’t liked it when Hoseok had started being a little too touchy. Hands gently brushing over your shoulders, hugs whenever he pleased. And Jungkook had finally lost it when he’d arrived a little late one evening, stumbling in on the scene of Hoseok feeding you.

Jungkook had seen red.

And so he painted an abandoned warehouse walls with Hoseok’s blood until he was begging for mercy. Only Jungkook had never been one to forgive an forget— making sure to kick Hoseok’s face in, the man unrecognisable before he’d finished him off.

Jungkook didn’t like the way Jimin and Taehyung liked to take you out to galleries on the weekends. They weren’t even fucking art students why would they care? And he absolutely hated that neither of them even thought to invite him along. And so he had to trail behind, making sure neither of them touched you.

He hadn’t been too happy when the both of them had held your hands.

So he cut them off, gagging them with their own filthy fingers so he wouldn’t have to listen to them scream as he played with their bodies a little. Practice for any future projects.

Jungkook didn’t like that Yoongi sat so close to you at meal times. That was Jungkook’s seat and no one else’s.

Yoongi suffered a similar fate to Hoseok, only Jungkook made sure that this time Yoongi felt the pain of being a whore.

Jungkook hated that Namjoon talked to you. He hated that the two of you could talk for hours and Jungkook would just have to sit and listen, left out when he should be the only one to hear your sweet little voice. The perfect melody.

So naturally, Jungkook skinned Namjoon.

Jungkook despised that Jin even had the guts to even look at you.

So he gutted him alive and fed his organs to the strays that lived on the outskirts of the city.

Slowly, you were back to just Jungkook.

Jungkook’s pretty little doll.

Neither of you ate out at restaurants anymore, apparently exiled from the old group according to Jungkook.

Two strays left to bask in one another’s company. Two outcasts that had nothing but each other.

You spent most of your time at Jungkook’s apartment. Shirt tugged over your head the moment the door to his apartment closed.

Thrown over his bed as you lay in nothing but your underwear. Your body littered with teeth marks, reds blossoming over your chest like the flowers he kept on the window sills. Littered anywhere his mouth deemed fit.

Your own body moulded into his own canvas.

You’d lay there, eyes blinking open sleepily as you’d hear the camera shutter. Jungkook’s face covered as your eyes squeeze shut at the flash.

You weren’t sure how long you’ve known Jungkook. Every day just slowly melting in one as you wake up, go to class together, go home together.

You lived more at Jungkook’s apartment than you did your uni place. Unsure when so many of your clothes had mixed with Jungkook’s in his closet.

Most mornings you woke up with Jungkook buried within you, hard cock nestled so far between your walls that all you can do is lay there. Hands gripping onto his biceps as he rocks into you.

You always try your best to keep his cum plugged inside of you on those days, something so… deliciously wrong about feeling what Jungkook had left behind inside you all day.

“Are you fucking stupid” your head jerks to the right as he lands a harsh slap on your cheek.

“No” you whisper, thighs clenching and Jungkook laughs.

“You’re fucked up you know that?” he sneers, pulling your face until his lips brush over your own, “Getting your panties wet because I’m a little rough with you”

“S’ not wet” you try to argue but both you and Jungkook know it’s a lie.

“No?” he asks, and you shake your head. “So if I did this it wouldn’t feel good?” he presses his foot between your thighs.

You go to close your legs, stopping when Jungkook tuts. You look up at him, unsure what to do as he runs his foot over your covered cunt.

“Get yourself off then” he grunts, and your hips roll upwards, clit nudging against the heel of his foot.

You rut your hips upwards, a lick of shame fizzling down your spine as you realise you’re getting yourself off against Jungkook’s foot, on his kitchen floor.

Your hands grab onto one of your bare breasts, grasp harsh as your hips continue to roll upwards. Chasing a release that was so close.

You feel Jungkook’s eyes on you, a high pitched moan tumbling off your tongue as you reach your peak. Arms shaking as you feel pleasure pulse throughout your body.

“Dumb little girl” Jungkook coos, dropping to the floor on his knees.

You fall flat against the tiles, letting Jungkook spread your thighs, pushing his sweats down just enough for him to pull his cock out.

He pulls your panties down your thighs, thrown somewhere on the floor for you to pick up later.

Your hips cant upwards when he runs the head of his length through your slit; gathering your arousal before he’s dragging it down his length.

You lay still as he breaches your entrance, dribble of your cum dripping to the floor as he bottoms out.

It’s not often Jungkook allows you to adjust, though it seems he wants to feel your warm walls as he barely pulls out before thrusting gently back into you.

“Faster Kookie” you whine, fingers gently circling your clit.

Jungkook scoffs, “You really are fucking stupid if you think you’re allowed to tell me what to do”

Jungkook towers over you, hands bracing himself on each side of your head before he pulls his hips backwards, breath being punched out of you as he snaps his hips forwards.

You’re pushed up the tile floor with each thrust, whiny little ‘ahs’ falling in quick succession, your hands having no where to hold but your own tits that bounced with each harsh thrust.

“Fucking fast enough for you?” Jungkook grunts, arms steady as he bends to brush his lips against the clear skin of your collar bone.

You know what’s coming before Jungkook bites down into your skin. Your arms wrap around his neck, thighs clamping around his hips as he continues to drill into you; his moans rivalled by the squelching of your cunt.

You feel your slick dribble out of your hole each time Jungkook thrusts into you, you’re arousal wetting his balls as they slap against your ass.

“Gonna cum” he grunts, tongue licking over the fresh set of teeth marks just under your collarbones.

Your walls clench around him as you approach your own release, tipping so fast over the edge you see white when he tugs harshly at your hair.

You’re unsure how long you’re out of it for, Jungkook’s groans still muffled like cotton candy had been stuffed into your ears. Your cunt hyperaware of each sloppy thrust Jungkook takes, twitch evident before you feel him flood your insides.

You think you tumble into a third orgasm as you feel Jungkook fill you with his cum. So much that it starts to leak out of you when he pulls out slowly.

You feel tears brim your eyes as you feel rivulets of his and your cum seep out of you when he pulls out fully. Your fingers quick to stuff the concoction back into your tight pussy as Jungkook takes a heaving breath.

Jungkook doesn’t mind you as you lay on the floor with three fingers stuff inside your pussy. Rummaging around for his camera somewhere in the living room.

He pries your fingers away from your hole, not without complaint from you. Pearly little tears glazing your cheeks clear as he spreads your legs. Messy folds the perfect picture.

He lets you stuff your fingers back into your hole once he’s done, stepping over you as he starts to prepare dinner.

And later he’d print out his new photos, an empty page perfect for his new additions.

Every page filled with you over the years that he’s loved you; his perfect work of art.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #taehyung #yoongi fic #bts #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts yandere #yandere jungkook #bts non idol au #bts requests #bts au

[nieceeee]

“ITS BETTER WHEN HE’S ANGRY”

Okay this was my very first request and I’m still learning but hopefully this is ok. I was struggling a bit lol

@wifeofallfictionalmen, I am still learning to tag people and reply directly to messages but here we go

WORD COUNT: 2048

REQUEST: Heyy I hope your doing well I actually have a request for Reiner Braun. Sooo he just had a fight with the reader and he really is angry at her ( plus it is his season 4 personality) so to get Reiner's attention the reader suddenly seats on his lap but he just ignores her so the reader starts to grind herself on his lap and the rest you write and I also want the use of toy as a punishment for the reader ( the readers pronouns are she/ her)

A/N: use of nickname baby, female anatomy, Reiner x reader, angry sex, makeup sex, use of toys

ART CREDITS: @thisuserisangry

Reiner!” You yell out from behind him.

“No, y/n I don’t want to hear it!” He barked back, his anger rolling off of him in waves. You groan in frustration. Reiner has been on edge and it’s been causing a strain in your relationship. The constant shifting of personas does nothing but cause confusion in every conversation and no matter what you do, he will not allow himself to open up to you.

“I’m trying to protect you.” He says, using the same excuse which in turn agitates you because you can’t seem to understand why he won’t allow you to be there for him. This was the 5th fight this week and things didn’t seem to be getting better.

It was hard, you all have been together for so long but after everything happened, he changed. He has been way more reserved and gets upset at the smallest things. And intimacy levels have been through the floor. Of course it doesn’t help that your body has been screaming for release for days now but, you were trying to remain patient in hopes that you all could rekindle that flame. However, every time you think you’re both doing good, another fight breaks out and you’re back where you started. Lately it feels like things will never get better and honestly, you’ve reached your breaking point. Especially since that deep dark side of you gets so aroused every single time you see him angry. The heaviness of his breath. The way his nostrils flare. The hardening of his already sharpened features. It was tearing you apart from the inside out and enough was enough.

With a steady breath you make your way into the bedroom that you both share. He is sitting at his desk, his chin resting against one of his hands as he watches tv. He doesn’t bother to acknowledge you coming in so you use that to your advantage. Walking over to where he is sitting, you round the chair and stand in front of him. He hitched a brow at you but turned his gaze back towards the screen. You step in his view again which results in nothing but an eye roll and him sliding his chair over so he can see past you. You flare your nostrils in agitation and open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.

“Please, y/n I’m not in the mood for another fight.” He grunted softly, not looking at you. You don’t respond, instead you step forward until your legs are touching the front of his. Then lifting your hand slowly, you run your fingers through his short blonde tresses, scratching his scalp softly. A small grumble of satisfaction leaves his lips as he tries to focus on the show. You continue to caress his head with your hands, watching the tension ease it’s way out of his shoulders. Then slowly you press your body closer. He glances from his peripheral and his golden eyes meet yours. You hold his stare as you straddle his legs, plopping right down on your favorite place that you haven’t been able to enjoy for far too long. He lets out a huff, shaking his head slightly before turning back to the screen in front of him. Annoyed at the lack of attention. You start to shift around on his lap slightly. He finally turns his gaze to you, his brows etched together.

“What are you-“ he started but you cut him off by pressing your hips down into him and rocking forward. He stilled at your movements, his mind trying to register what just occurred. You pressed down again, slightly harder rolling your hips into his once more. A heated gaze passed over his face as he released an involuntary groan. “y/n…” You continue to rock yourself against him, angling so that your clit is pressing into his crotch but you keep your eyes trained on his. He swallows hard as you feel him hardening beneath you. You continue to grind onto the top of his pants, the friction causing your pussy to swell slightly with pleasure. “Are you enjoying yourself?” His deep voice asked, coated with equal parts agitation and arousal. You don’t respond but continue to tease yourself against him.

“Ah, so that’s the game you want to play?” He said frustrated. His hands come up and grip your hips, stilling your movement. You let out a small hmp of frustration as you lose the momentum that was flowing through your body. “You think I’m going to let you use me as a pawn to get yourself off while you leave me angry and hard?” He asked, his brow hitching at you. You bite down on the inside of your lip, refusing to acknowledge him which only further drives his agitation.

“Fine, you want to be a brat then I’ll treat you like one.” He grumbled. He lifted you up swiftly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the bed. A surprised gasp escapes you as you're tossed onto the mattress. He hovers over you, chest rising and falling rapidly, those golden eyes burning into you. “Hands over your head. You move when I say move. Touch when I say you can. Don’t follow the rules and you know the consequences.” He whispered lowly in your ear, the deep commandments sending chills running down your spine. You do as you’re told, lifting your hands above your head. Reiner retreats from the bed and walks over to the dresser, unlocking it and pulling out the box of toys. Your toes curl in anticipation as he pulls out your favorite vibrator. He walks back over to you, your body splayed out against the bed.

“Don’t think you're getting off easy.” He said as he began to undress. You watch as he peels his shirt off exposing the sculpted body underneath. The sight of his smooth olive skin makes you want to run your tongue up his chest. You watch as his hands drop to his buttons and he takes his time undoing his pants. His print straining against his boxers makes your pussy flow with happiness. It has been so long.

He walks back to the bed and switches the vibrator on. “You know the rules of the game. 8 levels.” He stated. You make sure not to roll your eyes as he repeats the rules of the endurance game you always play together. “Level one” he says, lifting your gown and pressing the toy against your clit. The impact of the movement causes you to flinch just slightly as you adjust to it. Your body has been denied the feeling for so long that it has to get readjusted. Reiner drags the toy in slow clockwise circles against your clit, waking up the already sensitive bud. You focus on the sensation it was providing. “Mmm. Good girl.” He said softly but you manage to catch it. He slips your panties to the side and the toy slides in your opening. He thrusts once before pulling it out and turning up to level two. The game continues with each level as he circles the toy around your pussy and then fucks your opening by the number of levels. You are doing fine until level five. Your toes started to curl as you moaned softly. “Hmm, is your pussy aching to cum baby?” He teased, speeding up his movements. You stay quiet. “Oh, I see.” You could hear the smile in his voice. He once again slips your panties to the side as he slides the toy in your hole. Reiner takes his time with each hard thrust, the sounds of your arousal filling the room as it coated the toy. You felt your legs begin to shake, your body wanted to break. You just wanted to touch him and his teasing was going to break you.

“Rei, please.” You moaned, calling him by your pet name. “Awe baby. We haven’t even made it to level 8 and you’re already begging for my dick.” He teased again. He increased the level on the vibrator and pressed it firmly against your clit. “Oh fuck.” You let out, the intensity sending waves of heat through you. You lifted your hands from behind you and reached out to him. “Remember the rules. No hands. Punishment.” You groaned as you dropped your hands back. He slipped your soaking wet panties off. “Punishment level 6” he said. He slipped his fingers in your pussy and pressed up into your g spot. Then with the other hand he raised it slightly, before bringing it down right on your swollen clitoris. You gasped out in pain and pleasure. He brought his hand down onto your pussy again slightly harder than the last time and then a little harder with the next one. “Oh fuck Rei. Please baby.” You were teetering near the edge. “What is it baby? You want to cum, yeah? You want me buried deep in your tight little pussy? Is that it?” He asked. “Yes Reiner. Yes. I want you to fuck me please.” You let out. “Hmm. I love when you beg for it.” He grumbled in appreciation. He slipped his fingers out of me and pulled his boxers down, his dick springing from underneath the fabric.

“May I?” You ask. He nods. Your hands shoot from behind your head as you reach down to stroke him, coaxing out a bead of precum from his tip. He moans out your name as you have to use both hands, moving them up and down his full length. “Fuck y/n. I need to be inside of you now.” He growls. Reiner hitches his hands under your legs and pulls you closer. He lined up his tip with your entrance. “Tell me how you want it.” He demands. “Hard.” You let out. “Fuck yes.” He says and in one quick motion he slams his dick in between your folds. “FUCK” you cry out, your vision going blurry as his dick stretches your pussy. The pleasurable pain washing over you with familiarity. “Damn it y/n your pussy is squeezing me so tight.” He groans trying to pace himself. You are both reeling with pleasure. Reiner pulls out slightly before pushing his dick back inside, deeper and harder. He fucks you just how you like it as you hold onto his shoulders, your fingers nails leaving crescents in his back. He lifts your hips slightly so that he can push himself to stroke you deeper. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel the heat of your first orgasm taking over. “Reiner baby I’m going to cum. You’re going to make me cum!” You scream out. “Yes baby, cum for me.” he praised, his voice straining as he pounds into you relentlessly. His body glistened, sweat coating both of you as you get closer to your climax. “Rei, please. Don’t stop baby.” You beg. “You want me to fill you up baby?” He asks. I nod viciously, his muscles flexing as he drives you both over the edge. He lets out a deep roar as he releases inside of you, his seed coating your walls as a gush of fluids hits him, your body releasing at the same time.

You both sit there for a moment, catching your breath and coming down from your high. After your heart rate is back to normal, you look up to the man you love. His eyes already on you. “What?” You ask softly. “I love you, y/n. You know that?” He says softly. “Even when I make you mad?” “Especially when you make me mad, that way I can pour all my anger into that pretty pussy of yours.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You felt yourself throb at that idea. “Don’t even think about it.” He warned playfully. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. Then we can actually have a conversation about what happened earlier.” He suggested. You give him a small smile as he holds out his hands to you.

Reiner was a lot to handle some days but he was yours to handle, and you loved that for you.

#smut #reiner x reader #reiner braun #reiner smut #reiner aot #aot smut #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #reiner x y/n

[xxavengingangelxx]

Like a Phoenix

Notes: This came from a request for a comfort/love fic @unicorngirly1! <3

It was inspired by this amazing, gorgeous work of art by @shadow0-1. It made me wonder if Phil would worry about his wife leaving him were he to get scarred on a mission.

Anyways, summary!: Graves is burned in an unexpected explosion and is scarred. He worries about his wife leaving him because of it but his wife more than reassures him his scars only make him more attractive to her.

Warnings for: SMUT! MDNI! No other warnings, just hot and heavy sexy times and brief descriptions of burns. Work has been insane and I was suddenly inspired to write this after a dry spell. Not much proofreading, sorry for mistakes! But I had to get it out to my buddies :)

Taglist: @bellgraves, @shepgurl, @sharksausages, @lily-lily131313, @candy616. Want on or off the tags? Let me know :)

-

You were the wife of a mercenary. Weirdly enough, you two had met in a bar. What a story to tell the son you shared, right? You’d always been attracted to soldiers and you had just finished college and you’d been having fun with soldiers coming back from deployment. You’d been hanging out there for a year while you worked a boring office job, that bar really being your only source of enjoyment in your otherwise boring life.

You’d met a couple of soldiers, some of them foreign. The ones coming off deployment were always…rough wasn’t the right word. Passionate was. But holy shit were those nights hot and heavy. There was one you hooked up with a couple of times before meeting Phil. What had been his name? Johnny? Sometimes if he was in a mood he’d have you call him Soap. Scottish men were something else.

And then, funnily enough, on fourth of July weekend, your eyes caught Phil’s. You didn’t know his name back then of course. But you caught him looking at you, his blue eyes catching the low light of the bar and glowing. He nursed a beer, typical Texan, and smirked at you. He was decked out in field gear with a vest that had an American flag, a tag that read B-23, and had wires running through it.

No name tag though. Nameless, handsome stranger.

That nameless, handsome stranger eventually excused himself from a group of men who were dressed similarly. The men had been checking you out, too and sneered at you as well. But the nameless shadow had called dibs apparently because they told him to “go for it.”

“’S your name, darlin’?”

And when he got closer that was when you realized he was tall and broad and built and he had this heat that emanated off him that was almost intimidating. He smelled like cologne, aftershave, gunpowder, and sweat. And the fear of his enemies. He’d killed people earlier that day you were sure.

So why did that make you even more attracted to him?

You stumbled over your name for the first time in your life as he eyed you up and down shamelessly.

A booth opened up near the bar and the man led you towards it before you really knew what was happening. He had to take off his vest, the Velcro ripping loudly in order to fit in the booth. As he sat across from you, you caught more of his intoxicating scent. He was all man.

You wondered what his war-torn body looked like naked and what he would taste like on your tongue. You wondered if he would stretch you when he pushed himself inside you. You pressed your thighs together under the table to ease some of the pressure.

“Caught you lookin’ and I was always raised to never leave a lady wantin,’” he said in that sexy drawl. “Names Phil. Phil Graves.”

You repeated your name, not stuttering over your words this time.

“What’d you want to drink?”

The rest was history. You stopped seeing other men and even though he had a way with the ladies he’d also stopped seeing other women. Before you knew it, he had you moved into his house in the span of a month. He’d made you quit that boring-ass office job, saying you didn’t need to work. He said no wife of him was going to work outside the home. Also, anything you wanted? It was yours.

And in the mean time? You’d fuck him, he’d fuck you, and everything in between. You hated when he went off on deployments but loved it when he got back. He had that scent that he had the first night you met him. So intoxicating.

You got married to him 6 months in. He’d said he just knew you were the one. You weren’t 100% sure but he’d certainly convinced you in the last 3 years. He was the man of your dreams and more.

He was on deployment now and you were expecting him back any day. While he was away, there were always 2 Shadows posted at the house to keep you and the son you shared with him safe.

You’d just had breakfast and had your son on your hip when one of Graves’s men approached you, satellite phone in hand and a solemn look on his face.

Your mind instantly went to the worst place.

“Don’t you dare tell me he’s gone,” you whispered. You had intended for it to come out harsher but you couldn’t. Tears prickled your eyes and your son poked at them curiously as they fell down your cheeks.

“No, thank God, it’s not that,” the Shadow reassured.

“Then what?”

“There was an unexpected explosion and—”

“And, and what?!”

“He was burned,”

“So?”

“He might have permanent scarring,”

You sighed. “I don’t give a shit. I wanna see my husband.”

-

You’d left your son in the care of a "Shadow dad." That particular Shadow was your son’s godfather so you trusted him with your son’s life.

When you stepped into the hospital room, it was warmer than you expected it to be. “Phil?” You called out softly.

No answer. Just the beeping of the machines.

You gently pushed the curtains hanging from the ceiling to the side…

And there he was.

Peacefully asleep. The left side of his face had a white translucent bandage as did his left arm. His left leg seemed to have been spared and if you guessed, his chest had been spared because of his vest.

“Phil,” you sighed, starting to cry. You cuddled up to him in bed on his right side and cried softly while you listened to him breathe.

-

The next year had been trying. Phil, the great Shadow Commander had been unable to join his soldiers in the field. He hated sending them out with him going. His men were like sons to him and losing any of them would have him sniffling while trying to hide the fact that he was crying.

Graves had healed. Skin grafts had taken and you and your husband had both come to terms with the fact that he was always going to look different.

His Shadows started calling him Phoenix because he had literally risen from the ashes of an explosion and lived.

And then suddenly, out of the blue it seemed, Phil started getting nervous about you leaving him, about his son being scared of him.

“That’s silly. Your son loves you.” You brought the now-sizeable four-year-old into the room, having picked him up out of his playpen and brought him to set next to his dad on the couch.

Father and son made eye contact, with Phil looking at his tiny (compared to adult Graves) son sitting next to him on the couch and his son looking at his hulking figure of a dad. The boy’s green-ish blue eyes met his father’s blue eyes.

The pause lasted forever and you started working up a line in your head that even if the tiny tot expressed fear, that it was nothing to worry about.

And finally, the toddler smiled and crawled into his father’s lap, running tiny hands over the left side of Phil’s face and his left arm. “You squiggwy, Daddy. Color inside the lines.”

And tears pricked your eyes as well as Phil’s when you all laughed.

-

“You should find someone better looking,” Phil said to you later than night when you came in from having put your son to bed.

“Phil, that’s ridiculous. I love you.”

You crawled in to bed with him and snuggled up to him. You then climbed on top of him. He had been lying down on his back and you straddled him.

“Phil, all this does,” you ran a gentle hand down the scars on the left side of his face and his left arm. “Is make you look hotter. You beat death. You’re a badass.”

“Can I tell you…ask you something?” Phil whispered, resting his hands on your hips.

“As long as it doesn’t involve anything about me leaving you,”

A kind smile touched his face.

“Can we have another?”

“Another—”

“Another one.”

Oh. Oh.

“You want another kid?” You asked.

“I really do,” Phil answered.

“How do we make babies again?” you teased, grinding your hips on his growing erection.

Phil easily tossed you off of him onto the side of the bed. Hard enough that you had to catch yourself so you didn’t fall off the bed.

“Shit, my bad,” he chuckled. “Ya’lright?” he asked, helping ease you under him, legs wrapped around his hips.

“More than alright,” you purred.

Phil had recently been able to be more active as his skin healed and he easily pulled your nightgown up and off you.

“No panties?” he smirked, eyeing you lustfully.

“Easy access,” you said coyly.

“Naughty girl,” he growled. He pushed his sweats and boxers below his cock, now hard and red and ready.

“Only for you,” you moaned arching up, feeling the hot tip of his cock kiss your entrance before Phil placed a hand over your belly button and tsked disapprovingly.

“So needy,” Phil gasped when he felt your own wet entrance touch him.

“Gotta get you ready, yeah?” Phil rumbled.

“M’ ready, m’ ready,” you pleaded, trying to arch up to his hot dick, now oozing precum.

“Could be more ready,”

And you gasped when you felt his lips on your entrance. His stubble on the right side of his face still scratched your inner thigh and you had to stop yourself from yelping at the sudden sharp sensation.

And he licked you from your vagina to your clit, making you quiver. You hands went to his hair, holding him in place. His hair had grown out slightly longer and it just made it all the easier to grasp it.

And when he sucked on your clit, and pressed his tongue against it, you moaned his name.

He withdrew suddenly, making you whimper at the loss.

“Phil,” you protested.

“I wanna be inside you when you cum,” he said darkly.

And so he pushed inside of you, slowly, so slowly that your breath caught in your throat when you tried to tell him to go faster. He suddenly bottomed out inside of you quickly, slamming home in a way that made you cry out.

“Don’t wanna wake ‘im, hush,” Phil whispered, his hot lips brushing your ear. “Don’t make me put something in there to make you be quiet.”

You moaned, softer this time.

Phil moved, pulling all the way out before again starting slowly and then pushing back in to hit your cervix.

You brought your hands up to his shoulders. You scratched his right shoulder with your nails. But not his left one. That one had just been kissed by the flames but the fire had spent enough time on that skin to scar him.

Phil groaned, grinding his hips against your clit as he hit your cervix and that gummy spot inside you. His hot lips now sucked a hickey on your neck before moving to your breasts. And that combination of sensations: his hips grinding against you, stimulating your clit, his long, thick cock hitting your cervix as his thrusts became harder, fast, and his sucking your breasts was when you surrendered to him and came.

He was quick to put his left hand over your mouth to cover any cries that might have left your mouth otherwise.

“Fuuuuck,” Phil gasped. He thrusted faster, his hips losing their rhythm as he got closer to his own high. He removed his hand from your mouth and instead used his hands to pin your wrists down on either side of your head as he chased his own climax, finally cumming inside you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of cum, right into your fertile womb.

Phil stayed inside you as you continued clenching around him, hearing him hiss as he was now overly sensitive.

“Never leave,” Phil whispered.

“Never will,” you promised.

#phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #graves x reader #john soap mactavish

[thehistoriangirl]

If You Hadn't Left (Me) [Chapter 1]

I thought I would start posting in the first of February but oh well better now than never lol

I'm gonna post the other fic's masterlist tomorrow I think :3

Viktor x Fem! Reader-----2.9K----SFW*

// M A S T E R L I S T

Next ->

Synopsis:Viktor was never supposed to see you again, just like you had promised that evening when you both ended up heartbroken and bitter toward destiny and all its twisted ways. So twisted as to put you back into his life not only as a temporal working partner to cover Jayce’s absences, but also as the maid of honor in the wedding where he’ll be the best man. Hypothetically, it doesn’t have to be that difficult to find a way around the river of memories flowing between you both. Though, of course, hypotheses are flawed. Just like that part of him that still craves another ending to this story. 

Tags: Second Chance | Angst | Exes to Lovers | Denial of Feelings | Viktor's horny down memory lane* | Reader is pissed | My man is going thru the stages of grief | MelJay bc Jayce deserves to be happy | Eventual Smut | Eventual Happy Ending |

Taglist c: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @blissfulip

That goodbye became a broken promise, cracked over the sound of your voice ever since he heard it at the Council assembly.

Sure, you had spat out the words fueled by betrayal and hatred, but Viktor took them like an oath to put in peace his stormy mind.

First coated in a lie so fragile Viktor was surprised it hadn’t fragmented before, and now this—he was sure he shouldn’t take another glass of wine from the walking waiters zigzagging across the opulent hall—but he had avoided you all night, and he knew Jayce wouldn’t let him go before arranging the “formal meeting” between both of you.

If only he knew...

We congratulate Miss Favred for winning the design contest for the new hall construction inside the Museum of Sciences and Technologies. Graduated from Piltover’s Academy with honors, you're the proof that progress and art are held hand in hand in this city.

Almost the same speech Heimerdinger delivered during your graduation ceremony, only that this time you were all alone on the stage, Viktor's hand grabbing his cane to not feel the growing sensation of emptiness.

Part of him thought it was mere shock. After all, you haven't seen each other in almost ten years; and a petty part of him was surprised he even remembered you, how the image of you was locked in the depths of his subconsciousness that only needed the ring of your greeting to resurface.

But now? Hours after the reencounter? He was so, so weak…

With a sigh, Viktor finally admitted it: stealing glimpses of your purple dress flowing against the gentle breeze was a weakness, though if the excuse lay in masochist interest or avid curiosity, Viktor wasn’t ready to clear his mind. Why would he, anyway? It was a couple of wine glasses too late.

Funny how some things defied the City of Progress where everyone was eagerly grasping the tomorrow.

Viktor just felt stuck in the past, down a path he wasn’t so sure how to slip through.

Your hair was the same, richly stylized and decorated with a geometrical headpiece that looked like a crown from Viktor’s angle. Your time in Shurima had replaced the Piltovan style built by several layers of clothes like vests and corsets for simple, airy fabrics that played with transparencies. The deep shade of violet pooled in continuous drapes ironed in the long skirt falling freely around your hips and down your legs, a gold-threaded corset hugged your waist and framed your bosom, the fabric slowly fading into a lavender tone held like loose sleeves with golden bracelets.

You were covering your mouth while your eyes closed in amused crinkles for whatever the young merchant Mauriel Garfen was telling you as his expert hand twirled you around the ballroom. It didn’t matter much, as Viktor could paint it just fine: with the vivid dark pink adorning your lips, though he knew your favorite color was more of a burnt brown, or maybe even red—

"That's enough for today," Viktor mumbled, eyes looking intently at the crimson liquid as he swirled the stem around his fingers before settling it down against the nearby windowsill.

Suddenly, he heard your happy squeal as you went to hug another young woman dressed in a vivid teal, halter dress. Her curly black hair bounced as you two swayed. Viktor didn’t remember her vividly, but she had been one of your friends ever since your undergraduate years.

If only… Though he knew he didn’t have any right to be greeted as warmly. If even he had any right to be greeted at all. Only because you had returned. Because of course, you did.  Once you had told him that despite the high number of students inside the Academy, you'd find each other in one way or another.

“No, not like fate,” you have told him, voice groggy with slumber as you laid against his chest, hands pointing at his dorm's ceiling where she had stuck luminescence cut-outs of stars. "Entropy."

You were right, from all his perfectly calculated plans tumbling into a state of chaos, one he surprisingly wasn’t against.

Until he was.

Garfen twirled the both of you, giggles bubbling like the nearby tray of drinks a waiter was carrying toward the Councilors discussing on a corner of the hall.

You looked like that photograph he kept in the bottom drawer of his tattered closet, only that the sepia tones eating it away had been repaired with the tone of your skin, the void he left behind replaced with you looking like a fairy queen with your golden crown and dashing company.

Someone more fitting. But Viktor was now the co-creator of Hextech, wasn’t that enough?

His fingers tangled around the glass’ steam, barely feeling the hot sensation of the alcohol down his throat as he gulped it all.

You’re so pathetic, Viktor. Get over it. Why haven’t you done that already?

“Vik! There you are!” He almost dropped the glass with the impromptu voice of Jayce chiming in his roaming thoughts. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

"You know I'm not… eh, akin to this kind of party," he said, only half a lie. He'd been hiding inside a balcony and then, when Jayce passed by, Viktor slipped between a corner and a column. Now, he'd been too distracted to notice. "I've been unwinding."

“For a moment I thought you were already gone!” He patted his shoulder. “I’ve wanted to introduce you to Miss Favred since morning, but I suppose you had duties to take care of after the meeting.” He had bolted out of there as soon as Councilor Medarda called the session off.

His jar tightened, just as the grasp on his formal cane, naked metal replaced by a coat of black marble and polished wood on its handle. “Jayce, I don’t think this idea about the Hextech Wing would be… good,” he started, pouring in all the thoughts that had flown inside his head ever since the morning meeting. “This isn’t what I imagined when you told me we would celebrate the first decade of Hextech’s creation.”

“Viktor—”

“No, listen to me,” he replied, almost through gritted teeth. How pitiless of him he couldn’t even manage his feelings in public. “We want to help people in need, not to gloat about a fancy exhibit at the Science and Technology Museum. This is just another excuse for the Council to gloat about their grandness. What would the exhibit do for the people who believe in us, hmm? For us as scientists, even? Are you listening to me?” His friend had shifted to his embarrassed posture, where his tall body was trying to shrink into a ball, with hands tightly grabbed against his stomach, gazing at the floor. "Jayce—?"

“We’ve arranged that part of the Museum’s entrance fee is going to be destined to fund upcoming Hextech projects. That way you won’t need as many sponsorships,” Mel interjected behind him. Viktor turned to look at the Councilor, frozen to see the figure tailing close behind. “I believe we talked about it in the past meeting.”

Surely. Not that he would admit he had been too distracted by the nervous movements of your hands gesturing away to explain your design to oblige his mind to follow the Councilor’s debate sprinkled in between.

“Perhaps what he’s referring to is about how much time will it take to seize a positive quantity to fund a project,” you said to save his embarrassing stunned silence, poking your head from behind Jayce’s wide back. Your eyebrows arched slightly, head tilted toward Viktor.

The movement is so familiar from when you helped him through the boring, long seminars with haughty professors and even mouthier classmates. A head tilt and a slow gaze once you had laid the counterargument, ready for him to lock the possibility of a reply with his conclusion.

“I… That wasn’t what I meant,” he said, surprised by his cold tone.

You blinked at him for a moment, a frown slightly forming between your beautiful eyes. He didn’t dare to back out from it, he didn’t have a reason why.

Jayce cleared his throat. “Um… well, Vik, this is Miss Favred, she’s going to be the designer of the Museum ampliation…” He said, and you stepped next to Jayce, lips in a neutral yet mocking smile, with the curves of your lips turned up.

“It’s been quite some time, Miss Favred,” Viktor mustered, a smile plastering on his mouth that was too wide and toothy to be considered polite.

“Likewise, Viktor,” you said, tone sweetly as you extended your hand toward him.

Viktor almost wanted to yank it away once he felt a surge of electricity tingling up his arm once your long and elegant fingers wrapped the reverse of his palm. You giggled, nails digging into his skin with discreet violence.

His lips pressed in a thin line that couldn’t be faked as a smile even as he continued shaking your hand for a minute too long, wanting your eyes to decode the hidden message in his. What are you doing here?

“Oh, do you know each other?” Mel said after calling your name, which made you yank your hand away from his grasp.

“We were acquaintances at the Academy,” you said, gesturing away.

Classmates, the word slipped with an acid aftertaste when Viktor tried to back you up. "Very close classmates." Because of course, this was the perfect time for his brain to break under pressure. Yes, so close you slept against his chest every other night, so, so close that he even burrowed inside of you—

Mel turned to you, with an almost accusatory air. “What a surprise!”

“That was many years ago.” Your gaze swept from Mel’s to his, if only for a second. “I had forgotten about it.”

Oh, so that’s how you wanted to play?

"Well, I'm glad you two can reconnect after so many years!" Jayce said a big grin on his face. The sweet oblivious Jayce. “It’ll be good for Vik to have another friend! It’s… slightly difficult for him to open up and get new ones.”

Viktor glared at him. “Why are you talking about me as if I weren’t here?” he replied, while you mumbled:

“I wonder why that is.”

His head turned toward you in a movement so quick that some of his pushed backward-styled hair fell over his forehead. "Pardon?"

You smiled at him. “I didn’t say anything.”

Oh, you—

"Why don't we leave you two to talk?" Mel said, ignoring the pleading look you sent her when Jayce nodded, saying that there must be a lot to tell between the both of you. “Councilor Talis, let’s go for another drink. There’s something I need to talk about with you.” Probably about the wedding. Not that Viktor was interested in the matter when he had you in front of him. 

From all the stolen glances, he had pieced you whole like a puzzle, filling in the missing pieces eaten away by time with the new image, though he knew some things wouldn't change. Like the way you smelled like hyacinth and mangoes, your favorite fruit. All that freckles and moles and scars dotted around your body like those two small ones peeking over the square neckline on the left of your collarbone, which he knew balanced out with the two tiny moles under your right breast.

Surely your skin was just as heavenly soft as back then despite the occasional roughness of your fingers from working so much. Your palms were always warm against his cold fingers during winter. 

“Viktor," you called him. And he frowned to conceal what he had been thinking all the damn night.

“What?”

 “Why don’t we strike a deal?” you said, arms crossed, disrupting what would have been his doom if he continued.

“Do I look like someone that would strike a deal with a devil, Miss Favred?” Viktor said, arching an eyebrow almost in a flirty way. Just amused enough to push you to the edge of your years-trained composure. You certainly played the part, with all the allure and the deep gaze of your eyes.

“I suppose this must be awkward for you, too.”

“It isn’t awkward for me,” he lied. “You should worry about your work instead.”

“So ready for me to leave?” You chuckled. “I think you should know that I applied to this contest because I need the spotless curriculum if I want to be the new Interior Design teacher at the Architecture Faculty.”

“You’re just trying to annoy me. You said you would leave and never return.” Better put, Viktor cornered you to say so, but he wasn’t going to let his mouth run free.

"And you said we were going to get married," you replied, and Viktor felt himself trip backward if it weren’t for the support of his cane. “So I guess we’re even.”

Viktor stood there, stunned golden eyes wide open. He started calling your name, but you had your hand raised.

“You’re right, my bad. That was unnecessary.” Your hand arranged a loose lock of hair poking your cheek. “Anyhow, I’m not going to mention anything about the… past. So you don’t have to worry about me running out my tongue—despite how close classmates we’ve been.”

“Now you’re just being…” improperly brash, dangerously cheeky. Almost as if you’d been pushing him over the edge of his decorum to see if he’d cornered you against a wall to seal your endless rebukes with a kiss. Or many. “…insufferable.”

"Don't worry." You waved away. "I'll finish my job as fast as humanely possible, and then we won't have to see each other again. Because I know you aren't fond of assisting the Progress Day's party."

He crossed his arms, letting the handle of his cane hook on the curve of his elbow. "I'm not sorry to disappoint you—but I'm very fond of Progress Days. I've changed," Viktor said, but it was only a half-truth. He wasn't sure how he could change a feeling that lay hidden deep inside, frozen in time instead of giving them a real burial. You only had to dig to start seeing the uneven silhouette of the memory boxes where nothing should be more than black earth.

“Anyway,” you replied, your tone bleeding with sarcasm. “That’s my peace treaty. I know Mel and Jayce will feel awkward if they ever discover that they’ve arranged old flames as partners, so let’s just forget it. I assure you it’s nothing that could endanger the quality of this project.”

Let’s just forget it. You were right, as you had always been, and yet…

I've already forgotten you, Viktor, you said inside his mind, a smile that once had left him breathless now hurting him in the unspoken truth that now you were better without him.

Of course, you were better without him.

Yet, Viktor couldn’t help but seek your left hand accommodating the deep V line of your dress for the poignant sight of a band on your finger.

“I’m not a passionate teenager, Miss Favred," he said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I assure you I'm not interested in dwelling in the past. So rest assured, I won't embarrass you." It was totally unconscious that his voice dripped with contempt.

You curled your upper lip. “You’re such a fusspot, always the victim.”

Viktor inhaled sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you spat, taking your skirt with your fists as you were ready to stalk away.

The parallels made his heart squeeze in a painful grip. Was history about to repeat itself?

Before his brain could recollect the action, Viktor had called your name, hand extended open as if wanting to touch you. “Wait—” As if he had something to tell you.

You ignored him, stopping when Jayce approached you both from the complete opposite direction Mel and he had gone at first. Also, you couldn't point out if the dark marks of brown smeared on his face were just a plaything of the lightning or marks of kisses.

“Are you leaving so soon?” Jayce told you, hand over your shoulder.

“Yes,” you told him with a smile, completely ignoring Viktor. “My feet hurt and I’m afraid I haven’t recovered my sleep schedule since my return.”

"Well, maybe Viktor can walk you home?" he offered. "For what Mel told me, you live near his apartment." Not that he had moved a lot since you left, but seeing the surprise in your eyes felt like a little victory.

“No,” Viktor and you said at the same time.

“I mean—,” you started.

“I want to stay a little longer,” Viktor said. "As I should be open to enjoying these celebrations more. Hextech anniversary only arrives once a year!" He tried to laugh, but Jayce looked at him with such a concerned frown it was hard to keep his act. Your contained snort wasn't helping.

“Vik… I think you’ve had far too many drinks.”

He glared at Jayce for what felt like the thousandth time. "I'm fine, Jayce—”

"Well, goodbye!" you chirped, getting on your tippy toes to kiss Jayce's cheek, and then, forcefully, approach Viktor and give him a goodbye kiss, too. More like a rude smack, with how forceful you were.

"Tomorrow, eight sharp," Jayce told you, poking your side with his elbow. "Viktor doesn't like it when I arrive late."

“I can’t wait,” you beamed, eyes boring into Viktor’s. As if daring him to say something.

"Me either," Viktor lied.

If you wanna get into the taglist lemme a comment below! 🤗

#viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor fanfic #arcane fanfic #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane x you #arcane x female reader

[catnek-reblogs]

Trigger Warning: mentions suicide

For those of you who aren't in the right frame of mind to read this, I will be giving a summary at the end of this part.

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Batman: Explain.

Red Robin: So I found him standing at the edge of a roof a couple of weeks ago and thought he was going to jump. I wasn't busy at the moment, so I decided to talk to him and convince him not to jump. But he heard me and was surprised and fell off, and I wasn't able to catch him in time. I didn't find a pulse, but then he spoke to me. I thought he was a Talon but after spying on him and talking to him, I have concluded that he is a regular civilian who just happens to be a ghost.

Batman: You should have told me. Talon activity is on the rise.

Batman: I'm benching you for two weeks.

Red Robin: That's not fair!

Batman: Those are the consequences for not sharing important information. *turns to Danny* I have some questions to ask you.

Danny: Yeah no Imma take a rain check on that.

Danny: *grabs Red Robin, turns intangible and invisible and escapes*

Batman: Red Robin!

Oracle: I'll go through the cameras and try to find them.

Batman: Everyone, I want you to be on the lookout for this man. He has kidnapped Red Robin, is a meta and may be working for the Court of Owls. It is as of yet unclear whether or not he is a Talon.

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Summary: Tim explains to Batman what's been happening for the past few weeks, and is benched for two weeks for not sharing relevant information. Batman then attempts to interrogate Danny, who kidnaps Tim and runs away. Batman informs the other Bats about this and basically Danny now has an army of Bats gunning for him.

Parts 1-6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Masterlist

Since the tag list is getting pretty long, I will stop tagging people starting from the next update. However, don't worry! For those of you who haven't noticed, I always use a very specific tag for this fic. It is called 'tim's talon diaries' and all you have to do is follow it to get updates. I will also be creating a masterlist for this fic, so all you have to do is click the notification bell in the notes for that post and you will receive notifications whenever I update it.

[Tag List Under The Cut]

@mur-ururu @heirxofxtime @kisatamao @gin2212 @robinmedea @meira-3919 @idfk-man10 @dannyphantomphan @aveInfear @amercurio @i-always-say-yea @thegatorsgoose @bianca-hooks123 @lady-time-lord- @sjrose1216 @akikkobara @pheonixdemonqueen @oddessy @rosecinnamonbun @observethevoid @awkwardmaiden @thenerdycupcake @bun-fish @ambiguouslyominous @smilingfox22-blog @andsatisfactionbroughtmeback @seraphinedemort @yodeler12 @liandrin @basementloser @onlyhereforthechaos @terzatheunderscorerima @kittenline @numbuh-7-knd @joseph557 @chaos-n-kindness @vythika96 @starlightcat04 @thatonegirl10 @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @mynameisdoofthelizardandamlesbi @greenmuffinofdoom @mj-arts-n-stuff @stargirl1331 @my-nameis-apollo-kid-number7 @gender-theif @oterion @derpxp @lyra689 @bruh-incoming @ramdonmess @m0re-pan-than-peter @yjfk @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @omgnectarina @sailor-goddess @blackrabbitt3t @rangerhorsetug @countessdragon @why-must-i-be-like-this @markus209 @spoopyspoony @edgyboi10000 @cat-in-a-fedora @space-dreams-world @mossy-bonez @anonymousf28 @v-inari @joyfulcollectordreamland @littlecameron @treepainting @adorablechaos @idkmrpianoman @amyheart19 @we-ezer @everest-nightshade @succ-my-coke @itsnekocanada3 @fandomwanderer @pyscoaces21 @kjoboo91 @nappinginhwll @redhoneysugarorange @asrielstars @undead-essence @willakk @love-has-no-labels @catostrofiqu @teeth-taste-nice @michikoy-yuki @09shell-sea09 @56thingsinaname @aph-mable

#danny phantom #dp x dc #batman #tim drake #danny fenton #red robin #court of owls #tim's talon diaries

[r0w0fie]

Update on the CK situation:

I'm shocked I'm saying this but, instead of Carnivorekitty giving it some time to settle down & to use that time to grow . . He just deleted/deactivated his art accounts???

His Tumblr has been deactivated & his Ck twitter account has been seemingly deleted. The Lurking for Love twitter account is still up.

Edit 2: his art twitter is still up but the tag have been changed & the account privated. Any use of the direct link to the old tag doesn't work, hence why I thought it was possibly deleted.

He has changed his now deactivated Tumblr name to "don't make your fanbase on here" which says alot . . .

His Carrd has also been cleared out, including the Toyhouse account. Although his Ko-fi & Itchio are still up. You can see a preview to the old links in the second screenshot below.

Edit 1: his carrd has also been deleted now

He has renamed his previous Carnivorekitty twitter account to yeehawcrow and has privated it.

The background image was changed after the situation. This is just another jab at his fanbase, same as all his other account name changes.

His Niwi account, the one with the transphøbia & -ism interactions, is still up but has been privated.

The name change is still up which shows that he still stands by his views. Do with that info as you will, just no harassment towards said account please & thanks.

I hope this is the last time I have to say anything or update people on the issue.

Some personal thoughts & feelings under the cut ⬇️

I am now further disappointed with Tom. I do not know if he said anything before deactivating, like a farewell or a "will be back eventually".

If he had of simply given it some time, let the dust settle, realign his mental state and then try to figure out why this was so hurtful to his fanbase. He could of had a chance to return & continue on; if he wanted too.

Of course, not everyone would be happy to see him return. Not everyone would even interact with his accounts or be willing to be in the fandom again. But it was still an option, especially if he uses this as a learning opportunity, not just for past fans or present fans, but for himself.

I personally won't be supporting Tom unless some serious growth & acknowledgment is shown. Unfortunately, I don't think thats going to happen any time soon due to the examples & links above. It might never happen or it might take months/years.

I hope Tom is safe & I hope everyone else is safe aswell. Make sure to look after yourselves & reach out to those you trust if you're not doing too hot xx

For now I will change my hyperfocus from Jacob & co onto other games & characters. It hurts to do so but there are so many good peeps out there & we shouldn't be afraid to trust them. I hug anyone who now is because of this situation 🫂

I will forever be into Milo (@/solarchaotica's oc) & will be getting back into LoveLock so I can bully my fave character Walter even tho Seb is the fan fave lol

My personal feelings on all of this? It's shitty.

People defending all of the horrible evidence, without saying they don't agree with aspects of these "questionable" simply because they want to defend CK; is shitty.

People putting things in other people's mouths, is shitty.

People burying their heads in the sand because they want to ignore it all; is shitty.

People giving excuses, even excuses as to why they are ignoring this issue or ignoring certain parts of this issue, is shitty.

People who genuinely support these types of beliefs, only joined in because they're genuinely phobic & aren't even in the L4L/murdersim community; is shitty. (& Yes I've seen it happen)

People who harrass anyone involved, Tom himself, is shitty.

People who use this as evidence to defend other past users actions, is shitty.

People who lash out their hurt through nasty words & ill wishes upon others, is shitty.

People who say anything about Tom or others ky$-ing themselves, are super mega shitty like wtf??? Don't do that???? I only saw one person but still????

It's all just super mega shitty and I hate it so much and it hurts so much to see other people be so so hurt and just aaahshsgskxbdjfb. I cried the first day, not because of my personal feelings, but because of others talking openly about how hurt this made them. Seeing my friends be hurt. Strangers be hurt. Mutuals be hurt. I could still cry if I let myself dwell on it for too long.

I wish things could of ended up better. When I posted on the situation I tried to tell peeps to keep an open mind & to look after themselves. I just hope this is a learning experience for alot of people.

#murdersim #jacob alden #carnivorekitty #lurking for love #jacob lfl #l4l #niwinoodle #tw: discrimination #tw// lgbt+phobia #tw// transphobia

[roadkill-raccoons]

just found out about your peachblood au but can't quite figure out what the story is or what it's about. it looks like some kind of apocalypse AU, but other than that I don't know anything ;-;

By the way, your art is beautiful!

AHH im sorry 😭, im not good at writing down my thoughts into ways that are understandable

I wouldnt say theres much of a story other than the beginning.

This au is heavily inspired by adventure time, a little bit of steven universe, the last of us and some story me and a friend where making but completely forgot about, plus the weird shit that goes on in a my dreams.

Yes its an apocalyptic story, i made it as a massive excuse to draw some weird ass shit when i felt like it.

It mainly starts with Mk traveling alone just trying to live and eventually find peachy (that pink monkey) scrambling around in a peaches box in a old corner store.

Mk and and the monkey travel for a bit before they run into macaque and bai he, where macaque decides to fuck with Mk nearly getting him and peachy killed multiple times.

After they escape macaque they run into a forest that they stay in for a couple weeks, going deeper into the forest where they find monkey kings staff, laid in front of an empty grave for the undead monkey, the six eared macaroni macaque.

Mk did not remember who the monkey king was since he spent most of his life trying to live after tang and pigsy passed, so despite being in a very magical looking place he takes the staff as a form of protection, somehow assuming its just a regular staff that someone lost, he does learn a bit from a comic he found.

Mk and peachy travel for couple months in different cities where each were filled with strange creatures (i have so many failed sketches for these creatures) most of these creature use to be people or animals that were affected by a man made virus that a demon (lbd) took advantage of.

Mk and peachy eventually find boat while running from something and use to it to escape, where they float around in the ocean surviving on backpack food and fish for about a month before washing up on flower fruit mountain, yeah mk somehow slept through sailing through those big ole fiery mountains, peachy didn’t tho.

Once mk woke up he saw the villages at the top of the mountains and wanted to go up the tallest one to ask for help.

He finds monkey kings little hut but not monkey king, since it was empty he fell asleep, where he woke up to wukong poking at him non stop

After that mk spends a month learning who wukong really is and what he did and can do (he learns through the monkey villagers, not wukong hes basically become a lazy dad after being alone for so long) after a few attempts wukong agrees to travel with mk for a while. Peachy didnt totally try to fist fight three baby monkeys

That where the main story ends and rest is just mk and wukong doing whatever. Not much of a story afterwards since then its just kinda open for interpretation, dilly little ideas n shit

Hopefully this is all understandable, im used to describing shit in very strange ways. I actually also keep forgetting about it too :,3

If none of this makes sense you can also go thru the #peachblood au tag

And lastly 🥺🥺thnk you!!!!

#peachblood au #god i suck at english despite it being my first and only language

[yukidragon]

Have you theorised why Ian cheated? It was long distance when he did so and he called them right away so it looks like he still loved Y/N so do you think it was a drunk thing or more like he for 2 seconds he got the idea in his head that he did want to "satisfy his manhood" since he's only been with one person and immediately regretted it.

I have actually. I’ve mentioned it a couple times in past headcanon posts as my thoughts about it evolved, but I don’t mind going over it again. Heck, your ask is a good excuse to make a post that’s exclusively about the topic of Ian and his relationship with the MC.

For the most part I’m going to speak in general terms for why Ian might have cheated that can apply to all kinds of MCs, and not just my specific version, Alice. Ultimately, I don’t think it mattered what type of person the MC was - Ian cheated for reasons that were entirely his own... and ultimately selfish. I will touch on a few extra headcanons that strictly apply to Ian/Alice’s relationship and how it affects Sunshine in Hell at the end though.

I’ll be posting some artwork that used to be on Jambeebot/Sauce’s public twitter before it went down for some extra tidbits of information, and linking to the official twitter when relevant. As a reminder, please do not repost any private artwork posted on the SnaccPop Studio Patreon. Doing so is harmful to the team and their livelihood. Instead, please consider joining as a patron, contributing to the Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack kickstarter, or just spreading the word about the game to other interested adults.

As a reminder, this series is for Adults Only. Sex is going to be discussed in this post, and there might be a mature image or two for reference.

Also as a heads up, this post will discuss abusive/toxic relationships, past instances of child abuse, SA, and religious trauma. If you are not in the headspace to handle any of these topics, please feel free to give this post a skip.

Obligatory tag for @channydraws and @earthgirlaesthetic before we get started. If you would like to be tagged in the next SDJ headcanon post, please let me know!

First, I want to address the theory that Ian was drunk, blackmailed, or otherwise did not consent to have sex with someone besides MC. Not only do I strongly believe that this is false, as there is evidence to suggest as such, I find this headcanon to be very... uncomfortable, to say the least.

If Ian did not willingly choose to have sex with someone, then he is the victim of SA.

The reason why Ian and MC broke up was because Ian had sex with someone else. If the only reason Ian had sex with someone else was because it was SA, that would mean that MC dumped the victim of SA instead of supporting him after a traumatic incident. MC would have blamed the victim of SA for suffering from SA. Even if we entertain the idea that Ian was too ashamed or didn’t understand it was SA at the time of the breakup, and as such MC had no idea that’s what happened, the victim of SA would have not only gone through the absolute violation that is SA, but lost his greatest source of love and emotional support as a result.

I am not comfortable with that narrative. At all.

Fortunately, it’s very unlikely to be the case, as Ian is taking all responsibility for his actions, as he himself stated in the demo. He did not blame his affair partner for what happened.

I’m going to try anyway. I’ve known you for how long now? I've known that…This is worse than anything we’ve been through. And it’s 100% my fault. But please…Don’t throw me out yet. Even if I deserve it…

There is also an older piece of art by Sauce that isn’t in the game or on the official twitter where Ian confessed to what he had done in a phone call immediately in the aftermath of his affair.

If Ian did not consent to have sex, then this picture changes into something very, very disturbing... well beyond the official warnings given on the subject.

[Romantic, Sexual, Emotional] Themes of manipulation, mind games, sexual consensual coercion, supernatural influence, soft dubious consent, and persuasive seduction.

Fortunately this picture shows Ian as lucid. He is upset and crying over what he did, but there’s no sign that he is in a compromised mental state where he can’t consent to sex.

I understand the reasoning behind making this sort of headcanon. I’ve seen it many times before, where a fan likes a character a lot, but feels uncomfortable towards one or more action that the character has taken. It can create a dissonance in the fan that needs to be resolved, and most often that takes the form of absolving the character of the blame of that questionable action, usually by making it the fault of someone else instead. That way, the character no longer has the trait that makes the fan uncomfortable, and it helps the fan no longer feel guilty for liking the character.

Liking flawed characters is not a sign that there’s anything wrong with you as a person. You can like aspects of a character but still disagree with certain things they’ve done or believed in. You are not tacitly approving of their flawed beliefs or wrongful actions by liking the character.

Everyone is flawed. Everyone has made mistakes. We are all imperfect, because we are all human. This mindset that a character can only be liked if they are absolved of all flaws is not only limiting when it comes to storytelling, it can be damaging, as it makes our own failings feel that much more unforgivable.

Redemption arcs can be pretty underrated, and I think that’s a shame. We shouldn’t be afraid of making mistakes. We should own up to them and learn healthy ways of making amends, or at least how to move on, heal, and grow into a better person.

I believe that Ian’s route in the game is going to be a redemption arc for him. For MC to reach a happy ending with him, Ian will have to truly make amends for betraying their trust. It won’t be easy, but redemption can be a beautiful thing. I eagerly look forward to seeing how Ian will do it and prove that he is truly remorseful and will never make such a mistake again.

Now that we’ve got that sorted, let’s consider the possible reasons why Ian chose to cheat.

First off, let’s start off with the facts that we do know about: Ian and MC are childhood friends who wound up in a relationship. MC was a stable figure in Ian’s life since they were children. The demo touches on a number of memories between them that mean a lot to both Ian and MC, including the afterlife mode.

The two have known each other a long time and know each other fairly well. However, as we’ve seen in the afterlife bonus story, Ian did keep secrets from MC. MC, by contrast, didn’t seem interested in hiding anything. These secrets, particularly whatever it was he hid so desperately under his bed, will probably come out during the game. The only thing we do know is that whatever he’s hiding, it’s not porn, as Sauce tweeted before their twitter was removed.

It’s unlikely that Ian is keeping secrets from MC for malicious reasons. Even when he cheated, he confessed right away rather than tried to hide it. He has a tendency to apologize, which even MC has commented on when describing him.

He was a nerd, and he was silly, and he was VERY apologetically himself, but…What we had was special.

This tendency to apologize and hide parts of himself appear to be the result of an abusive childhood at the hands of his mother. She is someone who not only forces her religious beliefs on her child, but stalks him and tries to control him and his actions.

“...My mom called me.” “Someone gave her our address…Or she might have had one of her friends watching. I don’t know…” “S-She…Uh…She says that…To live with someone out of…Wedlock…I-It’s a sin? And I’m going to hell?” “She said I’m only doing it to…To satisfy…My manhood…” “I-I’m not taking advantage of you by doing this…Am I?”

What’s unfortunate is that even as an adult, even though Ian is aware that what she is “just being mean” to him by planting these doubts in his head and saying such awful things to him, he still listens to her. He didn’t give his mother his new address when he moved, but he still hadn’t blocked her number despite knowing this until MC helped him do so in the episode.

Sadly, I suspect that Ian might have blocked his mother’s number in the past, only to unblock her later. This is purely headcanon on my part, but it’s not uncommon for victims of abuse to block their abuser, only to unblock them in a moment of weakness, especially if the abuser uses their flying monkeys to make the victim feel guilty about blocking them. It would seem that Ian’s mother has plenty of people on her side to do just that if they’re tracking Ian’s movements and reporting back to her about what he’s doing and where he’s going.

This drawing from Sauce’s deleted twitter is presumed by some fans (including myself) to be Ian’s mother. While any art not posted on the official twitter is questionable when it regards to canon, if this is Ian’s mother, and if she’s presumably talking to Ian, then she was verbally abusive and likely insulted Ian’s looks.

Ian was not just abused by his mother over his looks and other reason, but he was bullied by his peers as well.

The only one who seemed to want a friend was the kid who never seemed to have any. That was Ian. Ian wasn’t particularly loud and he didn’t have cool clothes or toys. He just kind of faded into the background. A lot of kids made fun of him.

Years worth of bullying, abuse, and lack of friends would have an effect on Ian. He feels the need to be apologetic and is painfully insecure. He struggles even to accept that MC would want someone like him as a romantic partner, as suggested by pictures like this one.

Scars like these run deep, and it takes a long time to heal. MC is used to comforting and reassuring Ian, as suggested by the afterlife episode. Ian is, in turn, used to relying on MC’s support. MC was the one who would ask Ian’s mother if they could have sleepovers when he was too afraid to do it himself, for example.

Ian has had MC’s support for a long time - since they attended first grade together, which is typically 6-7 years of age in the USA. While we don’t know the exact age of MC and the love interests in the present, it is implied they are all college graduates, which likely puts them in around their early to mid-20s. That’s quite a long time they’ve known each other, no doubt spending a lot of time in each other’s company on a regular basis up until Ian left to study abroad.

When Ian left, he suddenly had to go without his greatest source of love and support in order to pursue his dream of becoming an actor. He had to move across the country where no one knew him and handle everything entirely on his own.

With someone as insecure as Ian, no doubt that possibility was terrifying to him.

However, Ian had gone through a “glow up.” He was no longer that “gross” kid who faded into the background; he was successful and handsome. No doubt he attracted quite a bit of positive attention from his peers, which he probably wasn’t used to.

Back in his hometown, Ian had MC by his side a lot of the time. Anyone who wanted to romantically or sexually peruse him could easily be dismissed with his partner right beside him.

But what about when they’re not around to comfort him? Sure, Ian can call MC when he feels insecure, but they’re not there to hold him when he needs it... or help him blow off steam when he gets horny. Long distance relationships are hard, and they can leave a person feeling very lonely...

What I think happened was that Ian started making friends with people at the school. He was inexperienced with socializing with others due to being bullied, and likely didn’t realize when he was being flirted with unless they were overtly obvious about it. Given his low self-esteem, it would be easy for him to assume they’re just being friendly.

It feels good too. It’s hard for someone with so much insecurity to not want to soak up such positive attention. Chances are Ian wasn’t used to it from so many people who aren’t MC. Suddenly, MC is not unique in liking him or finding him attractive.

MC was always there for Ian, reliable and supportive. Ian knows them very well. Unfortunately, this can also breed complacency, which leads to taking their relationship for granted. By contrast, these new people in his life are different, unfamiliar, and exciting.

Staying in his hometown with the same people all his life, depending on someone else, abused by his mother, Ian likely had his growth stifled in many ways, but now he was taking charge of his life for himself. He was chasing his dream, growing more social, expressing himself more in a place far outside his mother’s reach.

It would be easy to make friends at his new school where so many people his age are interested in pursuing an acting career like he is. From there he could even find those who share some of his other interests, like fashion, video games, and manga. Despite his fears, Ian flourishes in his new environment. He opens up to more people and gets closer to them in a way that he never could with people in his hometown who knew him when he was an awkward child.

What harm would it do to just enjoy having more friends for once? In fact, MC would likely encourage Ian to make friends and spend time with them. He shouldn’t have to be lonely; he should be having fun too. Unfortunately, MC is not there and thus would be unable to see when any of Ian’s new “friends” start crossing lines... or how Ian unintentionally starts crossing them himself.

Ian doesn’t want anyone to know he and MC are sexually active in the afterlife episode. He claims it’s not a secret, but at the same time he worries about MC saying anything. Does he talk about being in a relationship at all? Does he tell people MC is his partner or just his childhood friend?

In my personal headcanon, I want to give Ian the benefit of the doubt on this point and say that he did make it clear to his new school chums that he was in a relationship. Unfortunately, for some people, a committed relationship is just seen as a challenge to overcome, something that adds a bit of spice to the chase, or they simply think cheating is fine as long as the person they’re cheating on never finds out.

What I think happened to Ian was like fable about the frog not realizing the water in the pot is getting hotter until its boiled alive.

It started innocently enough with attention and time spent with people who liked him. There was the occasional flirtatious remark that went over his head, but any overt propositions were turned down. It slowly escalates as Ian makes friends. He gets used to making himself vulnerable with other people besides MC, gets used to touching them, opens up more around them... and likely starts realizing they’re attractive too.

This is when his mother’s abuse would kick in. Those thoughts would hit Ian with guilt like a sack of bricks. Was his “manhood” leading him to sinful thoughts? No, no, it couldn’t be. He is only attracted to MC! He only loves MC! He only wants MC!

But that’s because MC was his only option before, isn’t it?

(Apologies for cropping this picture, but tumblr will nuke my blog from orbit if I showed what Ian and MC are doing on the left side of the image.)

Publicly posted pictures from Sauce’s now deleted tumblr might be questionable when it comes to canon, but I find they can be useful to give insight into general character motivations and for building headcanons. I find it very telling that Ian almost makes it sound like simply being with MC was his second choice when compared to his dreams of stardom...

Ian keeps these new thrilling feelings a secret like the thing hidden underneath his bed. He buries these thoughts, denies he even has them. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean those thoughts go away... especially not when he winds up spending time with the person or persons who spark these feelings in the first place.

Ian might try to avoid them to deny these feelings, but, oh, his avoiding them hurts their feelings, and he doesn’t want to do that! He apologizes, makes it up to them... and gets closer to them in spite of himself.

Things escalate from there. There’s more touching, more closeness, more deep intimate conversations deep into the night... some friendly cuddle time perhaps... Lines are crossed that he either denies were anything but innocent or perhaps he allows himself to believe them that they don’t mean anything even if they seem to mean more... Friends kiss sometimes too, right? The French greet each other with kisses in fact!

The French really know their kisses.

Eventually, one night when Ian is spending time with one of these friends, he finds himself really enjoying their company. He doesn’t feel lonely or miss MC as much. He barely thinks of MC, so distracted by his new exciting friend before him who makes him feel so good...

One thing leads to another. It’s a night of passion, of just feeling good and wanted.

After all, it’s not the first time Ian got swept up in his own pleasure when he was feeling horny. In his sex scene in the afterlife episode, he doesn’t let MC stop giving him a blowjob. First it’s by holding their head and giving puppy dog eyes, then he gets more forceful.

I wanted to look him in the eyes, but when I threatened to stop he only doubled down and gave a solid, deeper thrust. It was almost as if he was trying to remind me what I was to be doing.

Ian knows that he shouldn’t keep going if MC wants to stop, but, as he says...

“I-I’m so sorry I just…this is the first time you’ve gotten this far…and it really does feel good..”

It’s okay if he just apologizes, right? MC always forgives him when he wants things too much. It feels good and he doesn’t want to stop... MC will understand, they always do. They understand each other the most after all...

MC doesn’t even mind being used for sexual gratification after all.

It was like being used. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I didn’t care if he WAS using me.

Because Ian and MC love each other, it’s okay if Ian does what feels good, right? MC would want that for him. They won’t mind if they feel used. They won’t mind blacking out from lack of oxygen as long as he feels good. They won’t mind if he doesn’t reciprocate and gives them pleasure as long as he says how much he loves them and cuddles them afterwards.

They won’t mind if Ian thinks of himself first.

Then the post-nut clarity hits.

Ian might have convinced himself everything up until this point meant nothing when high off of hormones and attention, but after the excitement fades, the person in bed with him isn’t his partner. Maybe they’ll cuddle him, but they won’t say, “I love you.” He doesn’t mean that much to them. They’re not MC.

There’s nothing to justify what Ian did or distract him from the consequences - he cheated. He betrayed his partner for a cheap thrill.

There is no way to soften what Ian did. Even if he might not be religious like his mother, cheating is a sin far, far worse than simply having sex before marriage. It’s one of the big top ten sins!

It’s just like his mother told him - Ian was a sinful man who just wanted to satisfy his manhood with sex.

Ian can’t handle it, any of it. He immediately calls up MC to confess. It’s the only way to fix this. They’ll forgive him, they’ll understand. They forgive his mistakes. They know him. They’ll understand he didn’t mean it. They have to. It’s the only way he can live with himself.

Not even confessing his sins can stop his betrayal from scarring MC and destroying their self-esteem along with their relationship.

In the present, Ian is trying everything he can to get MC to forgive him. Due to MC’s money issues, he likely pays for half (or more) of the rent as a means of making amends for what he did, even if they’re broken up now. MC is a cheapskate who has to rely on cheap thrift store goods and borrowed or stolen clothes from their ex who hurt them.

Maybe that’s why Ian believes that getting a new job, one that likely offers fame and money, will somehow fix what he did. He has money and can buy a lot of video games, systems, and anime merch. His wallet is thick enough for MC to mistake his 8-inch erection for it, which suggests it’s full of money. He seems like he has enough money to spend on apologies too.

What’s worse is that Ian’s betrayal, and maybe even their relationship altogether, did severe damage to MC’s self-esteem.

When Jack shows up, MC resists the idea that they feel love towards him. While they are concerned about what Jack is and whether or not he’s real, they seem more deterred by the feeling that they don’t deserve the attention of someone who loves them.

I don’t feel like I really deserve that kind of attention…You know? It doesn’t feel natural to have somebody just…Ask you to consider that.

MC also doesn’t want to use Jack as an emotional crutch. Perhaps because they felt like they were once used that way by someone...

I feel for him...But something about this is too good. I won’t use him as a bandage, to cover up the feelings I don’t want to feel.

The only romantic relationship MC ever had was with Ian. They are still suffering from heartache by the time Jack shows up. They’ll turn Nick down regardless of whether or not they’ll agree to get in a relationship with Jack.

MC trusted Ian. They loved Ian. They wanted to be with him forever. Then Ian betrayed that promise of forever for a night of cheap lust. Maybe that was enough to destroy MC’s self-esteem to this degree, but I suspect their relationship wasn’t really all that sunny.

But Ian won’t give up. He won’t let MC go so easily. He won’t let them forget him or throw him away. He’ll keep calling them, reminding them of the good times and apologizing for the bad. He won’t let them move on. He’ll do whatever it takes to prove they’re meant to be together...

Ian did a lot of damage to MC. He has a hell of a lot to make up for, and it will take a lot more than just money and fame to fix things.

That’s about it for general theorizing that can apply to all MCs from the clues we’ve been given. I know this post has gotten kind of long, but since we’re on the subject, I’m going to touch on a few headcanons I have that specifically apply to Alice and Ian’s relationship. Just so you know, these headcanons may or may not be tweaked in the future before references appear in Sunshine in Hell.

The relationship between Alice and Ian wasn’t healthy. There were plenty of good times with smiles and love, but there were also problems that only grew more and more toxic as time went on.

Alice has done a lot to please Ian and support him. She felt very bad for the abuse he suffered under his mother and how stifled he was, so she bent over backwards for him, often giving more of herself than was reasonable.

Alice has never done well in front of crowds, but because Ian wanted to be an actor and she wanted to support him, she would participate in plays alongside him. She would help him practice his parts and got good at acting in her own right. Still, her dream was to join the animation industry, but when she struggled under some crappy overly critical art teachers, Ian convinced her to just try for an acting career with him instead.

If it didn’t work out, well, they could just be together.

When Alice dropped out of acting classes after her acting teacher advised her that the only parts she could play were fat, unpleasant characters who were the butt of jokes, it shook up Ian’s confidence as well. He worried he wouldn’t be good enough, or even just good looking enough, even if the teacher praised him in a way that they didn’t with her.

Although Alice felt insecure and ugly, Ian assured her he loved her and that was what counted, not what anyone else thought. Ian didn’t want to give up acting, but he considered it after what happened to her. She didn’t want him to give up on his dream, since she didn’t really want to be an actor to begin with and being on stage with so many people watching her made her feel uncomfortable, but she couldn’t tell him that or he would feel even worse.

Alice did a lot of things that made her uncomfortable for the sake of love.

What didn’t help Alice’s feelings of self worth were all of the husbandos and waifus Ian had. She always acted like they were no big deal, as they were just fictional crushes and she had some of her own while growing up. Unfortunately, she struggled to overlook certain common traits in his choices: large chests, thin waists, and overall conventional good looks.

Alice is chubby, with a pear shaped body that makes her hips and rear much bigger than her chest. No one would ever mistake her for an anime waifu, and she knew it.

It took Alice a while before she could handle getting sexual in their relationship. She suffered from SA as a teenager and had moments where she panicked, especially in certain positions or when being restrained without warning or means of escape.

Ian would feel miserable for triggering her trauma and would apologize profusely for it, blaming himself and thinking the absolute worst of himself. Alice, in turn, would feel guilty for turning something that was supposed to be an expression of love into something awful for the both of them. Moments that should have been just about expressing love physically just made Ian feel like an awful person instead, and she would need to reassure him that he wasn’t. It made her more determined to suppress her trauma and be more proactive when it came to physically intimacy for the sake of their love.

Alice loved Ian, and she was willing to do just about anything for him.

Ian was rough in bed once they got going, and Alice did her best to tolerate it. She focused instead on how flattering and exciting it was that the person she loved desired her to the point that he lost control over himself. She believed that noone else would ever feel this way about her but Ian. What they had was special, irreplaceable. She got better at not freaking out when he took away her control in the heat of passion. She tolerated choking until nearly passing out and the pain that would always come initially when being penetrated.

Neither of them had any point of reference for having sex besides sex education classes, experimenting with each other, and ecchi. In ecchi/hentai, the person on the bottom would almost always be in pain at the start of penetrative sex, particularly during their first time, but would feel good in the end. That was just how sex worked, right? Pain was just an unavoidable price to pay to feel pleasure and express their love physically, right?

Just a quick aside, no, sex is not supposed to be painful unless you want it to be. In that case, it’s BDSM, and it requires a lot of communication as well as safe words to do it in a healthy manner.

Ian never meant for Alice to feel bad. He just loved her so much that he got carried away in the moment, and he was so good at aftercare, which made up for any pain and panic. She adored how sweet he could be afterwards, so loving, kind, and cuddly, so she always reassure him that she was okay... even if she wasn’t really.

Alice learned to complain less and less over the years as she grew up with Ian because he was suffering from so much, and it felt like she had nowhere near as much to complain about. He would feel so miserable if she had a problem and he felt helpless that he could do anything about it. He was dealing with so much, she couldn’t bear to burden him with things that troubled her when he couldn’t handle it, not when he needed her support so badly. She had a big family who loved her and could support her, unlike Ian. Without her, Ian would have no one. He never meant to hurt her, and he always apologized when he did.

That was why, even after being cheated on, Alice tried to forgive Ian.

The woman Ian cheated with was gorgeous, thin, and had big breasts. She was someone who was far more forward and confident when it came to sex, so much more appealing than Alice was, at least in her opinion. She felt pangs of paranoia and jealousy towards this woman’s behavior towards Ian in pictures on their socials and how much he talked about her as well as others even before the affair, but she always managed to talk herself down from suspecting anything seriously. She trusted Ian. What they had was different, real. They knew each other for so long, far more intimately than anyone else. Their love was deeper than anyone could understand, and she believed him when he swore up and down that he only could ever want her romantically or sexually.

It was a mistake. Ian messed up. It’s just how it’s always been - he makes a mistake, apologizes sincerely, reassures Alice he loves her, and she would forgive him. He always has good intentions, he just is clumsy at times, makes mistakes. This was just another mistake.

Besides, it wasn’t like Alice was perfect either. She had a crush on that camp councilor when they were tweens, and it made Ian feel bad because he had been crushing on her while she was gushing about her crush to him, oblivious to his feelings. This was kind of how he felt back then, right? She was just experiencing it from the other side now. Something like this was just a passing fancy. They could recover from this, right? Right?

But they couldn’t. Trust had been broken. All the problems in their relationship that Alice overlooked because she trusted Ian and loved him came in sharp relief, made even worse now by his betrayal.

Alice really did try to make it work, but in the end, she realized, with the help of friends and family, that what she and Ian had wasn’t healthy. They were caught in a toxic cycle of hurt feelings and apologies, clinging to each other for the sake of “love” until their relationship had grown twisted and was slowly destroying both of them.

The hardest thing Alice ever had to do was end the relationship, and even then she cracked under the pressure of Ian’s crying and begging for her not to leave him. She softened it by saying that they were broken up “for now.” Right now things were too painful, too raw. They needed space to focus on themselves as individuals instead of as a couple. If there was any chance of them being together, they needed time apart to heal.

Unfortunately, Alice can’t imagine them getting back together, not when just the thought of Ian hurts like hell.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #swwsdj #sdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask #Sauce-y Art

[nickfowlerrr]

taking care

pairing: soft!dark nick fowler x curvy!reader

warnings: innocent/naïve reader. violence. mentions of blood. mean!nick. mentions of injury. minor character death. smut. choking. gun violence. pet names. hair pulling. spanking. i think i’m missing stuff so please let me know if you think anything else should be tagged!

words: 7.4k

notes: this fic has been sitting in my drafts for a couple weeks and i haven’t reread it in a while so apologies for any errors. genuinely idk where this story went and i know i didn’t bother trying to make it make much sense - it was really just an excuse to write nick fowler smut and then this all just kinda came along with it lmao. also - can i just say that i am big anti baths but honestly, i’d get in a tub with this man any day of the week 😙

i feel like, by now, we should all know not to expect well written endings from me and this fic is no exception. idk man lol

as always feedback and comments are always welcome. thank you for reading and reblogging 💜

“I really wanted to trust you, sweetheart,” he said, sounding disappointed as he stared down at you. “I was so sure I could trust you.”

“What?” you said, taken aback by his words as you stared up at him from where you were made to kneel in between his legs. “You..you can. You know you can,” you continued, trying to hide your hurt though you were sure it was written clear as day on your face.

His hand was caressing your cheek softly as his eyes continued to gaze stoically into yours - giving nothing away.

When you had gotten home, after putting away the groceries in the kitchen, you found him in the den. He was just sitting in his chair near the fireplace- the glow of the flames illuminating him and accentuating the sharpness of his facial structure. He sat there, almost unmoving - looking like a work of art.

You were going to call to him, but were instead momentarily stunned by the sight of him before his clear, blazing blue eyes suddenly shot to yours as he heard you enter. His gaze froze you to your spot with the chill it sent through you. He stared at you a moment before speaking.

“Come here, princess,” he called to you.

You blinked at him before making your way over. You had heard that pet name many times before, but something about the way he said it was different now. It sounded wrong, cold. So unlike the wickedly sweet way it normally sounded coming from his lips.

When you were stood right before him, he grabbed your hands in his and pulled you down, urging you to lower yourself onto your knees before him.

To say you were confused at his words would be an understatement. You had been with Nick for the past two years and had started living together just around the first. He had moved you into his home with him a few months shy of your one year anniversary, promising you it would be perfect. And the place itself was perfect. It was in a newer, quite expensive, neighborhood with few neighbors living in the houses near his.

And his house was amazing. High tech and as luxury as you had ever seen in person. You had no qualms about the place you’d be moving to, you were just a little trepidatious, worried things were moving too fast. But of course, Nick convinced you it wasn’t too soon, that when you loved like you loved one another, these things could never be rushed. Not when it was always meant to be. You’d get to spend more time together, you’d save money on rent, and he’d be able to keep an eye on you - to keep you even safer.

You knew Nick’s line of work was dangerous, but you never felt worried about something bad happening to you. You knew he’d never let that happen. You were always his top priority, and had been since the day he first laid eyes on you. Rather, your concerns were in regards to his safety. When he would come home after long weeks away, you finally felt like you’d be able to breathe again. He’d always call or message when he could, but of course you’d still worry. Especially on occasions when he’d get home bloody and bruised. Sometimes you thought it hurt you more than him. But you were always there waiting for him. Always there to patch him up and take care of him when he needed you. And you always would be. You’d promised him as much.

You were closer to Nick than you had ever been with anyone and you’d never felt such an intense connection the way you did with him. You never knew how deep love could be before you met him. You would trust him with your life. You did trust him with your life. And after all this time, you thought he felt the same.

But apparently not.

You weren’t sure what had come over him or what exactly brought this on, but his current behavior was unsettling to say the least. You felt like he was keenly watching every little movement you made and taking note of each reaction you had as he stared at you. Looking for some sort of tell, something that would betray your innocence. But what did he think you were guilty of?

Whatever it was, he wouldn’t find anything. You hadn’t done anything to cause him to question his trust in you, you were sure of it.

“You don’t have to lie, sweetheart. There’s no point now, anyway,” he said as his fingers ghosted along your cheek.

“Nick, I swear,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.

What are you trying to accuse me of?”, your hurt even more evident now, “I haven’t done anything wrong,” you insisted earnestly.

It was only when he brushed his knuckles along your cheek that you dared to move. You gingerly grabbed his hand in yours and as you pulled it down to hold it, you then saw the blood and bruising. You looked up at him, eyes wide as you finally took his appearance in more closely. You noticed what appeared to be dried blood stains on his crisp white shirt, but as you scanned his face to see if he was hurt, you found no sign of injury. So the blood wasn’t his.. The only give away he was injured at all was his hand. No, hands, you realized as you pulled away only slightly to run your eyes over him again, needing to be sure he wasn’t hurt, before you noticed the bloody knuckles on his left hand, matching his right.

You weren’t new to seeing Nick like this, but you were normally more prepared. If he was due home from a mission, you knew what to expect. You had time to prepare and steel yourself against the sight of him possibly walking through the door wounded and bloody. He wasn’t normally a hands on kind of guy. He preferred to avoid hand to hand combat when he could, “less messy,” he’d say. But from the looks of him, it seemed he had been in some kind of altercation. You just couldn’t think of how that would have happened in the few hours you had been out. It’s not like he had been gone on an assignment, he hadn’t had any work since he came back last week. So when did this happen? Why did this happen? Why was he sitting here looking the way he was? Treating you like you were in on some conspiracy against him.

“Princess,” he tutted as his eyes burned into yours and his expression grew harsher. Your hand in his, being squeezed tighter. “You’re gonna need to stop lying to me, before I get even more upset.”

“I’m not lying,” you stressed again. “Please - please, just tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice the little hushed conversations you’d have with him every time you’d go out?” He dropped your hand from his and you moved further back from him as he leaned closer to your face, scrutinizing every emotion that passed your eyes. His question served only to confuse you further because you really, truly had no idea what he was talking about or to whom he was referring.

“Don’t play stupid, baby. It’s not gonna work this time,”

This time? What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask, but knew better than to let it slip from your lips. He was obviously upset and lashing out, and you knew you needed to figure out what he was going on about before he was too angry to deal with. Nick would never hurt you, you knew that, but he had a way of taking his anger and frustrations out on you that would leave you feeling him for days. Normally you didn’t mind, but seeing as his ire was now directed, in part, at you, you felt a little more… nervous. He had never spoken to you like this before and you certainly were not a fan of it. He was making you feel uneasy.

“Nick, I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about or even who you’re talking about,”

“I saw you on your way out earlier, princess. What did you tell him, hm? What did he say to you to get you to smile so pretty for him?”

You sat there, mouth agape and brows furrowed as he spoke so condescending towards you. You thought back to when you were leaving today, who had you seen on your way out? Who had you talked to? The only person you could think of was Johnathan.

Yeah, it was Johnathan. He stopped you on your way to your car, asking about when would be a good time for a double date night with you and Nick and him and his wife. He’d been trying to set something up for a while, since they had moved in a few months back. Nick was evasive the couple of times Johnathan had caught him outside - always asking when you two were free. It was odd, certainly, but you had never thought anything of it. Only that he seemed to be a friendly neighbor, maybe overly so, but nothing more.

And certainly Nick knew better than to assume anything more than friendly, courteous conversation was happening between the two of you anytime you may have spoken. You were just being polite.

“This is about Jonathan?” you asked, almost disbelieving. “Seriously, Nick? He said hello and asked about you, like he always does before I told him I had to get going. That was it. That can’t be why you’re so upset. Will you please, just tell me what happened?” you tried asking again as you reached for one of his hands to examine more closely.

“Let me get you cleaned up and-,” you soothed before you found yourself being shoved down onto your back. The movement was sudden and unexpected. As you found yourself pinned down onto the hardwood floor, Nick on top of you, his hand wrapped firmly around your neck as his ice blue eyes raged with betrayal, you didn’t have time to scream and only managed to squeak out in protest before he spoke. He was mere inches from your face as your hands instinctively grabbed onto his forearm while he held you tighter.

“I told you to stop lying,” he spit out as you stared up at him in complete shock. You tried to speak but the hold he had on you, the way he was choking you made it nearly impossible. He stared into your frightened eyes for a moment before he loosened his hand from your throat and you coughed out, desperately trying to regain your breath as your head lolled to the side. He immediately grabbed your face and brought you back to looking directly up at him while you heaved.

“I’m not lying, Nick! What the hell is wrong with you?” you cried beneath him, trying to push him off but getting nowhere. He ignored your words, clearly not satisfied with your answer and seemingly unphased by your fighting against him as he continued staring into your eyes. When you stopped thrashing, he let out a heavy breath, letting his head fall slightly, his forehead against yours.

“I’ve already forgiven you, princess. I promise. I just need you to tell me the truth now so we can move past this,” he bargained as his thumb brushed away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

You stared perplexed yet again as your brows returned to their furrowed position.

“The truth? The truth is I haven’t done anything. I still have no idea what you’re talking about or what happened while I was gone- I-”

You were interrupted by Nick scoffing and huffing as he hauled you roughly up from the floor. He had a tight grip on your arm as he pulled you to him. You crashed into him with the force of his pull before he spun you so you were in front of him, your back now to his chest, as he urged you to walk in front of him while he led from behind.

“I really didn’t want to do this the hard way, sweetheart, but you’re leaving me with no choice.” he said as he moved you both to the garage. “You’re gonna tell me the truth, in your own words, one way or another.” he promised.

As he shoved the door open from behind you and urged you in, you were stunned by the sight you were met with. You gasped in shock as you stared at your unconscious, bloodied and beaten neighbor tied to a chair. The walls of the normally empty garage and the floor beneath him were covered in plastic. You were genuinely lost and felt like you were on a delay as you just continued to stare, begging your mind to catch up.

What had Nick done in the few hours you had been gone and why?

“Let’s start off easy,” he began as he spoke into your ear. “How long?”

“How long, what?” you stuttered out in a whisper.

“How long have you been planning this? How long have you been working with him?”

“Working wi- what? Working with him? What are you talking about, Nick? What the hell is happening?”

“He said you’ve been in on it since before we met.. But I know that’s not true. Can’t be. Because I’m the one who found you, not the other way around. I don’t believe you’re that conniving and I know you’re not that smart. So, tell me. When did he get into contact with you and when did you decide to work with him, huh?”

“He said what?” you asked shrilly. “I swear to God, Nick, I met him when you did. I’d never seen him before in my life. And I wasn’t working with him on anything? What does- what does that even mean? Look, I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what he told you, but he’s lying. Whatever he told you, he was lying! And how could you believe him,” you finished, your voice on the verge of breaking.

He stayed quiet for a minute, then his grip left your arms. You stayed still in your spot while he was still close behind you, close enough that you felt it when he was reaching for something. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he moved his arms to wrap around your waist lightly as his hands crossed in front of you. As you slowly looked down at his hands, you saw his pistol being held in his right hand. He leaned down to rest his head on your shoulder as you continued to stay as still as you could.

“Nick,” you nearly whimpered. He sighed, nodded his head and placed a gentle kiss on your neck before he spoke.

“I believe you,” he said, standing up straight.

It happened so fast. You had instinctively turned around into Nick the second you saw him raise his gun. With his left hand, he pushed you out of the way as he stepped in front of you and aimed his pistol at Jonathan - firing a single shot into him without a second of hesitation. You jumped at the sound of the shot as you were looking away from the scene while your eyes watered and your hands covered your mouth as you silently gasped in shock.

Nick put his gun down on the workstation next to him and turned to you, walking to where you were standing. He didn’t say anything as he pulled you into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you before moving a hand to hold your head against him as he tried to comfort you.

“Sorry, angel. You’re so gullible, so easily persuaded into things, I just had to be sure,” he began as he moved to walk you back into the house. His calm was a stark contrast to your terror filled debilitation.

“He got inside after you left and tried to sneak up on me. Honestly, he’s probably the worst trained agent I’ve ever come across. I heard him coming from a mile away.”

You were back in the house, he guided you to the den and sat you down on the chair he had been previously occupying in front of the fire. You were clearly in shock as he continued speaking.

“Got him tied up in the garage, I told him to talk but he didn’t want to. Took a little work, but eventually he broke and told me all about his secret assignment. And then,” he paused, taking a deep breath before letting out a light scoff, “he brought up you,” he said as he caressed your face gently.

“And each time your name left his mouth, I couldn’t stop myself from punching the living fuck out of him. He passed out and I came inside and waited for you to get back. You know, he was shitty at every other part of his job, but he sure knew how to get under my skin.. The rational part of my brain kept telling me he was full of shit, I knew he was, I just- I hated even having to think about the possibility it was true.

“But sweetheart,” he said as he grabbed your face, making sure you were looking him in the eye before he continued. “I want you to know that even if you had been working for him, with him, whatever, that I would have forgiven you.

“I know you weren’t, I know you didn’t, but if you had, we would’ve moved past it. Because no matter what, we belong together. You’re mine. And I know how much you love me. I know you’d do anything for me. And I’m sorry I had any doubt.”

He was squatting down in front of you as you were finally starting to process everything. Your breathing became quicker and quicker and your mind was racing.

“His wife, Nick. What about his wife? She’s gonna- she’s gonna be looking for him. What are we gonna do? What do we do? He’s- he’s, he’s dead, Nick. He’s dead. In our garage. What do we do?” you rambled as you began to cry again, leaning forward into him desperately.

He pulled you to stand up and held you once again.

“There’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. I already sent some people over to his house. There was no one living there but him. He’d been staking us out since he moved in. Working for some rebel agency after he was dismissed in the academy. Never even made it into the bureau. But don’t worry, it’s all taken care of, I promise. No one’s missing him except whoever sent him, and we already have plans on how we’re gonna deal with that,” he assured you.

You stayed in his embrace, the only source of comfort you had. You were still upset and you wanted him to know it, but you didn’t want to lose his touch or push him anymore than he had been pushed today by getting angry and blowing up at him after everything.

“I wasn’t working with or for him. I have never told him anything about you,” you said quietly into his chest as your lip wobbled. “How could you accuse me of doing something like that?” you asked as you pulled back to look at him, his eyes much softer now and full of sorries. “You’re my everything, you know that. I love you, I would never go behind your back. I would never want to get you hurt in any way.

“I would never do that to you. I could never do that to you.”

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your lips, pressing his forehead to yours as he nodded.

“I know, princess. I know. I’m sorry,” he said solemnly. You just hugged him tighter as he held you.

“Your hands,” you suddenly remembered. “Let’s go upstairs,” you said.

“Hey, angel,” he stopped you from pulling him further, “I think you’re still in shock. I just shot a man in front of you, you don’t need to be taking care of me right now. I’m taking care of you.” You stared at him a moment in silence, gently biting your lip trying to keep yourself together.

“You killed him,” you said bleakly.

“I killed him, yeah. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you, I’m sorry.”

“He was trying to kill you first, though,”

“Yeah, he was.”

“And he was trying to make you believe I was in on it,” you added.

“Yes.”

You just nodded against his chest as you leaned into him again.

“He had it coming, but that has nothing to do with me doing it right in front of you. Don’t try to rationalize the trauma,” he lightly chuckled. He was pretty accustomed to death. He had seen his fair share of it and his hands obviously weren’t clean of anyone’s blood, either. Though that certainly wasn’t something he ever wanted for you.

“It’s normally pretty difficult for people the first time they see someone die,” he said softly.

“The first time?” you said, sounding stressed. “The only time. First and last,” you said seriously.

“First and last,” he promised.

You later found yourself wrapped in your bath towel, sitting on the edge of your bed while Nick dried himself off with his own. You had cleaned his hands yourself before he ran a bath for the both of you. Sitting in the bubbles, you just laid with him in the warm water while his hands trailed up and down your body. You didn’t talk, just enjoyed his presence. That was until the realization that you could have actually lost him today hit you.

You looked up at him and tugged him closer to you as your eyes threatened to spill over with tears. Nick hushed you softly as he kissed your head.

“I can’t lose you,” you whispered.

“You aren’t going to, princess,” he assured you. You soaked a little while longer before you moved to the shower together. You were now clean and a lot more relaxed after being comforted by him all night long.

Nick moved over to you, standing before you as you sat on the bed. You looked up to him with a small pout and puppy eyes and just raised your arms up to him. He laughed a little before he bent down to your level, allowing you to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, hands finding his hair as you pulled him into a soft kiss. He gently pulled away from you and tugged your towel off of your body before he pulled his own off of his waist and tossed both of them to the wayside as he immediately went back to your soft, waiting lips, his hands framing your face while he deepened the kiss.

You broke away for a breath, staying nose to nose with him. Quiet and softly, you spoke with your eyes closed as your foreheads touched, “You’re my first and last.” The sweet reminder of the fact that Nick indeed was your ‘first’, in a lot more than just sex, and that he would absolutely be your ‘last’ as well, seemed to only frenzy him as he returned his lips to yours hotly.

“Your one and only,” he snarled as you nodded against him.

“My one and only,” you repeated obediently.

Before you knew it, he had you on your back and moved you up the mattress, allowing him more room to kneel above you, only breaking the kiss to breathe. His hands were on your face and yours were in his hair as you continued to sensually make out. Soon, his hands began wandering your naked body and as he lowered himself and closed the space between you, you could feel his heavy cock, hard and hot against you. You spread your legs around him as he moved his lips down to your chest. You moaned at the feeling of him playing with your breasts. He was toying with your nipple in one hand as he took the other into his hot mouth. Suckling and nibbling, getting you more and more wet for him as he moved to deliver the same attention to your other breast. Leaving kisses and love bites all over your ample chest before moving back up and attacking your neck with the same need.

You knew he was trying to be gentle, working very hard to not go feral over you. You could feel it in his tense muscles, he was too stiff and you knew he was holding back for you. Trying to, at least. But when you felt him bite your shoulder a little too harshly as he grabbed your ass roughly, you knew what he really wanted, needed. Today was a bad day to say the least and you knew he needed to let it out. Normally he had no qualms about taking his frustrations out on you in bed but today was different. You were involved in this and he had already hurt you earlier, you were still fragile. He didn’t want to push you so he was trying to keep his aggressions at bay. But you didn’t want that. You wanted to feel him. Completely, with no inhibitions. You needed it.

Pulling his hair back just enough to get him to look up to you, you urged him closer as you kissed him hard before speaking.

“Nick, baby, I want you. Use me. Please. Don’t want you to hold back,”

“Princess,” he tried to caution, voice hard.

“Please,” you begged. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I want you to feel better. I want you, I just want you, please.”

He didn’t need much more persuasion as he crashed his lips into yours again. Your hands were on his back, holding him close to you, chest to chest, before he pulled away from your lips and pulled back. Your hands fell from his back and moved to his built chest, then up along his muscular shoulders as he stared down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

He pulled you up with him suddenly as he got off the bed completely. You stared at him confused for just a second before you realized what he wanted. Without him saying a word, you got up and bent over the side of the mattress, your ass sticking out as you stood there in anticipation of what was to come..

“Color?” he asked huskily.

“Green.” was your prompt response.

The first strike of his hand across your bottom stung in the most pleasant, familiar way. You moaned at the second one as he admired the jiggle of your ass, squeezing your flesh before he landed the next strike. He spanked you repeatedly as your skin grew hot, your eyes grew teary, and your pussy grew needier with each hit. You were a mess for him already.

As he grabbed at your ass and soothed your hot flesh, he couldn’t help but taunt you as he admired your slick pussy drooling for his attention.

“All this for me, princess?” he asked as his thick fingers swiped through your wet folds while you whimpered. He rubbed your wetness around as he continued playing with you before plunging one finger inside of you, curling against your tight walls.

“Yes, yes, Nick, all for you,” you moaned.

You could practically hear him smirking as he moved closer behind you. He pulled his finger out after pumping in and out of you teasingly. He pushed you further up the bed as he grabbed your ass again and spread your cheeks so much so that you opened up even more for him, you could feel your pussy spreading for him as he squeezed you and continued his playing. He slapped your ass once more and without warning thrust two of his fingers inside your wet and wanting cunt. You mewled in delight as he scissoed them inside you, preparing you for his cock. He loved playing with you, teasing you with pleasure and watching you writhe with desire for him to push you off of the edge. And he would, eventually, but he liked seeing just how far he could push and taunt you before you were crying for him. So he continued fingering and stimulating you just enough to keep you on the edge, but not enough to get you there. Not yet.

“Please,” you whimpered out with a breathy moan. He slid his fingers out of you at your pathetic plea and then leaned over your back, shoving his fingers past your lips into your mouth as he spoke in your ear.

“Suck,” he commanded, voice low and heady. You did as he said, sucking his fingers clean as he panted over you, and you could feel him grinding his cock against your ass. He pulled his fingers past your lips before he placed a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he stood back up.

“Good girl,” he praised.

He grabbed his thick cock in his hand and decided to tease you a little more as he ran his tip up and down your slit. You were mewling at the sensation and wanted more.

“Your needy little pussy’s just crying for my cock, isn’t she?” he taunted, voice thick with desire.

“Mhm yes, Nick, please. Please fuck me. I need it, need you, need your cock inside me, please,” you whined desperately.

“Careful what you ask for, princess,” he said darkly before he positioned his cock up to your dripping hole. He thrust into you and began moving hard and fast as he fucked you without restraint. You were groaning and moaning as he hit deep inside of you, your legs dangling over the edge of the bed now with how far he pushed you up with his thrusts. His hand went to your hair and he pulled your head back harshly, loving the way your body reacted to him while he grunted in pleasure as you continued whimpering and babbling pure nonsense.

Letting go of your hair, his hands then gripped your soft, fleshy hips as he pulled you back onto his cock repeatedly, slamming in and out of you. The clap of his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass while he continued pounding into you was salacious and lewd and served only to turn you on more.

“Fuck, you look so fucking pretty when you’re being spread open on my cock, angel. Feels so fucking good, fuck,” he grunted huskily, moaning at the feeling of you.

Your fingers were buried in the sheets as he fucked you further into the mattress and you were on the very brink of your orgasm. Nick was hitting so deep inside of you and you had never felt so full. Each slide of his cock against your walls brought you closer as he stimulated your g-spot with every thrust.

His right hand left your hip and slithered under you to where his index finger found your clit. He began rubbing the swollen nub in small circles, causing you to clench hard around him as he swiftly brought you to your orgasm with the added stimulation. You were moaning and crying breathlessly as you came, eyes squeezed shut as he rode you through your high and talked you through your orgasm.

“Ah, fuck, princess,” he moaned out. “You’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. Coming on my cock like a good girl, huh. You like that, yeah. Love when I split you open like this, don’t you. Love when I fuck your pretty little pussy, stuff you full of my cock while I play with your clit,” he spoke into your ear as he leaned over you again.

“Mmhm, I love it, ‘so good, it’s so good. Fuck,” you cried as you mewled into the sheet beneath you while he continued pounding in and out of your overworked cunt.

He took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled your arms down and around your back, his hips snapping more erratically into you as he chased his high. He was leaning all of his weight onto you as he leaned over your body, pushing you further into the bed as he groaned. You knew he was close as he lost any of the restraint he may have had left, your name leaving his lips along with a string of curses.

“No one else could ever make you come undone like this. No one else will ever get to fuck you, feel your tight cunt wrapped around them. Fuck, this is goddamn heaven. And it’s all mine,” he said, moaning and grunting.

“You’re mine,” he growled into your ear. “And you’re gonna come again for me. Need to feel you come again, princess. Need to feel you grip my cock like that again.”

As if the never ending stimulation from his thick cock rocking into you from behind along with the thrilling sounds and praises you were pulling out of him weren’t enough to make you come again, those words absolutely were. Your toes were curling and the feeling of him on top of you - his pants and moans right in your ear as he leaned into you even more, all of it, every word, sound, and sensation were cascading at once into you and sent you headfirst into another orgasm, your hands squeezing his as he pushed into you further, your walls tightening around him again while he bit into your shoulder and you whimpered pathetically.

“I’m gonna come inside you, angel. Fill you up full of me, and you’re gonna take every last bit of my come, you hear me,” he panted through grit teeth in your ear. “You’re gonna be feeling me for days after tonight, princess. But that’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it. Just can’t fucking get enough,” he growled before he pulled out of you. He flipped you onto your back so quickly you barely even registered it happened until he slammed right back into you, his hands keeping your thick thighs spread for him as he pulled you as close to him as he could, your ass on the very edge of the bed as he kept your legs open around his hips. He thrust a couple times more, long and hard, before he seated himself as far inside of you as he possibly could with the most beautiful moan you’d ever heard, his shuddering breaths falling on you as he started to let himself go inside of you, your pussy gripping him like a vice all the while. His hands were back on your hips as his body fell forward, his head nuzzling to the crook of your neck as he sucked air in through his teeth before letting out a deep, guttural groan, nearly shivering as he came harder inside of you. His thick ropes of come filling you. You held him close to you, petting his head as he leisurely pumped his cock inside of you a few more times, riding out his orgasm as you panted and mewled beneath him every time he stimulated your ever sensitive clit. When he was finished, you were sure you had never been so full. You could practically feel him leaking out of you.

You were both panting, regaining your breath, as he smiled against your skin, coming down from his high and nuzzling more into your neck as he readjusted the both of you to be more comfortable on the bed.

“You’re perfect, you know that? Every last thing about you,” he said as his arms went around the dip of your back, hands settling on your hips once again as he kissed your neck, up to your cheek, peppering kisses along your skin.

You smiled at his words and the feeling of his soft lips trailing along your tender flesh as tingles ran through you, wrapping your arms around him. Briefly you heard his earlier words float through your head. You’d never known him to be so…mean. To you, at least. Though you wanted to forget it, it continued nagging at you while he laid in your arms.

As he slowly pulled out of you and got off the bed, you pondered talking to him about it. You didn’t want to upset him, but this was gonna bug you if you didn’t voice it.

He was back in front of you with a damp rag and the most loving look in his eyes. Gently, he cleaned his spend from between your legs and after discarding the rag, crawled on top of you, engulfing you in his arms, pulling you into his side as you were cuddling with him.

“Nick,” you muttered softly. He hummed in response, waiting for you to continue.

“I just wanted to ask, to know..Earlier, you… do you, you really think that? That I’m stupid?” you asked quietly, your embarrassment and hurt evident as you tried to hide your face against him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he gently pulled you back to look at him, his eyes full of sympathy, a stark contrast to the cold fire that raged there previously. “No, I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Really?” you pressed.

“Really,” he nodded. “You’re not stupid, you’re naive,” he stated matter of factly.

You looked down, wincing slightly as you pulled away from him. Tried to, at least. Nick was quick to pull you back to him, tilting your chin up as he forced you to make eye contact.

“Hey,” he breathed, “that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You may be naive but no one's gonna take advantage of that or use it against you, I’ll always be right here looking out for you. Protecting you.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips as you allowed yourself to settle next to him again.

“And I love that about you,” he smiled. “It’s just natural for you to be sweet.. and trusting.. and kind,” he punctuated each word with a gentle kiss to your temple, cheek, and finally your soft lips once again after nuzzling your nose. “I’m so lucky I found you before the world could change any of that.” Those words, sickly sweet and full of love and admiration of you, that was your Nick. The way he behaved earlier was intense and unlike anything you’d received from him before. You were just glad he was back now, and eager to forget the hurt he caused you. Certain he wouldn’t do anything like it again to you.

You half smiled before sucking your lip, your mind returning to the current conversation you were having with him, “Certainly tried to.”

You thought back to just a couple years ago, before you met Nick, before everything changed. You were making minimum wage, working two jobs in the city, living in a shitty apartment with a roommate you barely knew. Life had never been easy on you. But the moment Nick came into yours, it was like he just made everything better. He took care of you like no one ever had. Showed you love like you’d never known. You felt like you owed him everything. You really would do anything for him, he was your whole world now. That’s why it hurt so badly when he insisted you were lying to him earlier. You thought you had made it clear that that was something you would never do to him. You loved him so much. You figurned you just needed to show it more. To do anything and everything you could to reinforce the simple fact that you were his and his alone. Forever. It was the least you could do, right? He gave you everything, and made sure you were aware of the fact that he’d do anything for you, he’d protect you and love you with all he had. You needed to ensure he knew, without a single doubt in his mind, that you’d do the same. Because you really would, you did. He never made you question for even a second his devotion to you. He always said how lucky he was to have found you, but you felt even luckier for it. Truly, where would you be without him? You didn’t want to even think about it. It was all too much to put into words at the moment. For now though, exhausted and worn from the tumultuous events of the day, laying next to him, his protective hold on you as you were cuddling into his warmth and feeling surrounded by the love you shared, it was enough.

“I’m so grateful for you,” you sighed.

He caressed your cheek as he smiled at you, admiring your delicacy. He knew you were perfect for him the moment he had first laid eyes on you. He knew you were meant to be his, and so he made sure that you were and you always would be.

“I love you,” he kissed you once more as your eyes threatened to shut, lashes fluttering.

“I love you, more,” you whispered as you nuzzled further into him.

“You look exhausted,” he chuckled softly. “Go to sleep, angel.”

He was right, you were completely drained, but still, you wanted to fight your sleep a little longer. You worried your dreams would be flooded with nightmares of dangerous men breaking into your home, trying to hurt you, trying to hurt Nick, and god, the sound of the pistol firing ringing in the back of your mind. You shook your head, hoping to shake the sound as well. A man died today. And that could have been Nick. That thought wrecked you. You didn’t want to be without him for even a moment, not even in your sleep.

“I will,” you mumbled, holding onto him.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he said as if he could read your mind, rubbing your arm soothingly. You needed to come back to yourself. You were only working yourself up to dwell on things you couldn’t change or control. And with Nick around, you didn’t need to worry about anything, he’d take care of it all. He’d keep you both safe..he’d always keep you safe. Finally allowing yourself to really settle while Nick held you, you were soon sleeping, and though you woke up every now and again with a start, Nick was always still right beside you. His touch calming as he’d lull you back to sleep. He was here and you were safe, he’d remind you, mumbling words of comfort against your temple until you fell asleep again. He stayed up all night just making sure you were okay. He said he’d take care of you and he meant it. He’d be damned if you ever had to go through anything like tonight again, but right now he just needed to be sure you were okay and slept through the night. He already had his guys tracking down their headquarters and first thing tomorrow, he'd be sure the people who were responsible for tonight would be deeply regretting getting anywhere near you and ensuring they’d never have the chance again. And after that, he’d finally tell you the big news. You two were going off the grid, somewhere remote where it could be just the two of you, like it should be. Somewhere safe, where no one could find you. He’d had the plans set for a while now, and it was the perfect time to do it. You were more dependent on him, he was sure you’d say yes without him having to convince or force you to. The ring was perfect and he couldn’t wait to slip it on your finger. He wasn’t sure you’d be ready for another big move, but the honeymoon would be the perfect cover to get you there without you worrying. You’d say ‘I do’ and it would all work out. He’d be your first, your last, your only, just like he was meant to be. Always and forever. Just you and him.

#nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #soft!dark nick fowler #nick fowler x y/n #soft!dark nick fowler x reader #soft dark nick fowler #naive!reader

[gnashingwailing]

Kept notes on a reread I was doing of The Art of Love and War because I am so obsessed with the gay little borrower darkfic... sharing with u @fireflywritesgt

it falls apart at ch12 because that is where i consistently turn into a puddle under my covers kicking my legs and making sounds only audible to shrimps.

I HOPE THIS IS A SMALL TOKEN OF APPRECIATION FOR HOW GUD THIS FIC IS, SINCERELY... LIKE I SAID PUTTING THIS IN SOMEBODY'S INBOX IS PROBABLY A WAR CRIME. SO.

There is soooo muuuuch I want to saaaay. I did a reread and excuse my being verbose but.

Ch10 where Harry reads about how tinies don’t ask for things and prefer to do favors for them — how extra insulting that makes his message in Ch1!! “Just ask” no wonder Joe was so pissed!!

ALSO him feeling “dirty, somehow” about accepting chocolate that didn’t kill him… was he having a little bit of feelings for “the kind man” and it got transmuted into self-loathing… 😭 oh internalized homophobia tag we’re really in it now…

Re: ch2 I would kill for Joe’s pov of this… I’m also so fascinated to pick up the detail that Joe apparently talked to himself regularly, for Harry to hear him through the radiator pipes… one assumes Joe doesn’t have guests. Poor guy! He’s really smart! He likes talking! The assistant job is perfect for himmmm.

Re: ch3, i wonder how much Captain Calloway’s “if you die it’s your own damn fault” has influenced Joe’s life ethos of fucking around and finding out (btw… Harry would be sooo horrified to know Joe had been poisoned 3 times and still tried that chocolate 😭 yet another fun! anecdote of his) … im also kinda curious about Gutters. What’s that guy’s deal. And OF. COURSE. How Captain got all his injuries. It’s also so very sad he feels this tension with the guys, what they’d do to him if they knew more about who he really was. I love this as a metaphor for homophobia…

Ch5 I’m still fixated on the giants who are guarding the place. Hundreds of tinies going there every day… you’d think there’d be snatchers all over the place 👀 and the other great worldbuilding… lab tinies… “they were corralling everyone everywhere and the women and kids went one way…” GOD. also them building tiny capitalism plus tiny race science is just 😭😭😭 noooo… the way Harry reinforces their shared dignity and humanity by showing genuine interest in Joe’s art.. ouuuugh it hits every time.

ALSO I WAS SO SUSPICIOUS OF HILL WHEN I FIRST READ CH6 BUT NOW THST I KNOW HE IS A BONA FIDE WIFEGUY ALL IS REDEEMED. I AM so curious as to why he keeps tiny town schematics in his office if he dislikes it…

Ch7 profoundly funny to me how Hill is like “miniature is the academic term” and Joe is like what. Tinies.

I really appreciate how Harry started off having some uh. Idk. Colonizer savior complex stuff + noble savage ideas about Joe? Like “oh it’s in mother nature’s hands whether he survives then… I see…” as if the tinies social constructs about Pets are some immutable fact of nature instead of. A social construct !! It’s really well-done, how you show him gradually understanding that he needs to listen to Joe, not assume he knows what’s best for him just because he read a 50yr old anthropology book!! It makes me love Harry all the more that he managed to grow through it out of fondness for Joe 🥺

AND OF COURSE. THE G/T GOODNESS. My god. I loooooove that Joe is so creeped out by giants that he has to keep his eyes closed to stomach it… just feels. Hmm. Realistic?? It would be so overwhelming. I love that his trust gets rewarded with the doctor not hurting him…

The rapport they establish being based on talking to one another… it’s just suuuuch a perfect central theme for this story… Joe being able to tame Harry’s anger by reminding him of Joe’s own humanity. “Please don’t do that, doc. This is mean. You’re being mean.” And “you’re treating me like I’m not even… not even…” UGH. RENT FREE IN MY HEAD, WARREN. “Maybe he could do it; maybe he could sit in the same room as a giant for five minutes. He would only have to do it once, and then he would never have to do it again, he reasoned.” Bitch u thought… get loved and cared for idiot…

Joe asking him “why not”, echoing Harry’s words that stuck with him…

And then him being sooo pissed at the phone it’s just absolutely amazing stuff. Wagging his finger at it/Dr Hill lmaooo. I was hootin and hollerin when I realized this foreshadows him being the assistant!!! He can talk on the phone just fine!!!!

His legs threatening to give way from the prospect of Harry seeing him at ground level after he escapes using the phone receiver… ouuugh. It’s SO GOOD. He’s come such a long way…

“Touching every wooden beam he passed for good luck” is INCREDIBLY cute mental imagery.., he’s happy… poor guy has awful luck tho so Harry is just pissed 😭 HIM NEARLY DESTROYING THE PLATES BECSUSE HARRY SCARED HIM SO BAD HAD ME FEELING.. SOME KIND OF WAY…

Ch8 also has the first mention of Joe’s books… I’m sooo curious where he got these.. did he perhaps make them…? 👀 YEAH HARRY SHOULD FEEL LIKE A MONSTER THO. YOU TERRORIZED A LIL MOVIE STAR!!! HE ONLY BROKE A FEW THINGS… Making him hide under his covers like he saw a monster… 😭

I love their first god awful handshake lmao. Incredible subversion of the usual g/t first meetings… Joe’s just like OK 👋 NOW GET THAT THANG OUTTA HERE

And then Joe going “I know about that!” Joe protested, his voice growing stronger. “It’s up to me, doc. If it happens, it happens and it’ll be my own damn fault.” … something tells me when Harry finally comes to understand Joe’s recklessness with his own life and what feelings about its worth may be underpinning that, he will be so sad 😔

Joe losing his toes to frostbite… realizing that could very likely be from when he was kidnapped and enslaved with O’Grady… uuuugh he’s so brave to want to connect with anybody at all let alone with Harry!!

Ch9 professor wifeguy moments… yesss… I love that he wants to hang out with another tiny too 😭 Joe is making friends!! I can’t wait to find out about Lorraine and what “other place” she knows about!!! Lmfao I can tell she’s going to be incredible just from the little bit Joe hears of her. I wonder too if she’s been marked… aahhh I’m so excited to learn more about these two. How interesting of a parallel, too, that Harry noted Dr Hill might also be a former soldier… something-something folks unable to fully integrate into society finding and building community with each other…

Also PROFOUNDLY interested to note on a reread that the tiny town on his wall says “a SAFE place to be” and the one in Riverdale said “a CIVILIZED place to be” 😬 a damn prison indeed… I also really wonder just HOW the tinies are paying their rent(?) to stay there, if they’re all as disdainful of “borrowing” as a career as O’Grady seems to be…

MAY I JUST NOTE that Joe stimming around is sooo charming to me. He’s kickin’ his legs. He’s pacing back and forth. He’s doing something like that in the walls when Harry was first listening to him. I LOVE HIM.. aND I love how this chapter we see him going from “that tall bastard (derogatory)” to “that tall bastard (amused)”

AND POOR JOE ON THE MOST CURSED FIELD TRIP IMAGINABLE. There is much to love here but I absolutely adore this imagery: “Joe buried himself in the curtain as the doctor, dressed to the nines in his work clothes and vaguely resembling a horse in a brown suit, sidled over to him and towered there and seethed.” HE’S TERRIFIED 😭 and Joe learns that other people value his wellbeing more than he does… wow Joe no need to ponder that any further until Ch15!!!

There’s SO much incredible prose in this chapter… the haaaaands oh my god the hands. The tinies are on the order of 2-3 inches tall, right? You really get a vivid sense of how big and dangerous everything is to them… absolutely A+ stuff.

This part also slays me everytime I think about it: “Joe was hidden inside [the pocket], and the thought of how unhinged his dear neighbour must look to his fellow giants as he walked and talked gave him no small amount of delight.” HE WOUUUULD.

The mystery of just what Joe created as a boy… what he can’t find it in himself to articulate… why he can hardly fathom talking about himself and his inner world to anyone …

PART 10… the difference in the way Joe confronts Harry here vs with the assistant in part 16 is somehow heartbreaking to me. I think the anger must just be displacement for how he’s really feeling (worried, uncomfortable…) and he’s more able to show his feelings to Harry with the assistants than he is now… but Joeeeee. I don’t ever want him to feel hopeless with Harry, like he just has to accept whatever he wants 😭 I love him in this chapter… Arms crossed, eyes narrowed… red faced… clawing at the air as he ranted Jdhdhdj GOD HE’S SO ICONIC: ““Nope. Not gonna happen! Veto!” Joe leapt up from the box, strode all the way to the edge of the table, and jabbed a finger at him. “I don’t know what kind of sick, twisted doctor things you intend to do to people but whatever it is, it’s not happening in my house!”” I guess I want him to still be comfortable with yelling veto at Harry lmao!!

And then Joe being like WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT YOU SAVING ME THE OTHER DAY. THAT MEANS NOTHING TO ME, A WILD AND INDEPENDENT TINY WHO HAD IT ALL UNDER CONTROL, AT ALL.

ALSO: the way he words this, I have a strong suspicion he does not know the word “patients”?! “”Let’s make a deal in exchange for patients. Give me something in exchange for patients.” Joe stammered. “You do that and I won’t make any trouble.””

Harry thinking of Joe as “the little bastard” in counterpoint to Joe’s “the tall bastard” really makes me smile too, hahahah.

AND THE FURTHER G/T TROPE INVERSION… just because he was willing to get in the giant’s hands one time doesn’t mean he’s suddenly fine with it!! I love how pissed they are at each other over this misunderstanding lmfao. He’s 👏 a 👏 wild 👏 tiny 👏 ‼️

And it’s so meaningful to me that the two of them bond more over sharing art with one another… Harry wants to introduce Joe to an amazing piano player… and Joe is so happy!!! The idea for a Charlie Chaplin bit with a rich miniature woman is SO inspired btw, I was as delighted as Joe was 😭 Harry being like “oh shit wait is this offensive” and then Joe just being like “THIS FUCKS SO HARD LMAO IT REALLY DO BE LIKE THAT”

And then the tragic aftermath… Harry NOTICING that he didn’t even know that he was doing anything wrong by bringing Joe there, it just FELT so dreadfully taboo (enough that Hill, who is MARRIED TO A TINY, also seems like he’s been caught doing something wrong when Harry first meets him)…. and then of course society reinforces that fear in a terrible way. Only a shared humanity regarding love of art saves poor Joe.. how lucky he’s gotten enough exposure to be able to speak in the presence of giants. You have to ponder how many tinies just as wonderfully complex as him have died for not having that skill. It’s so very sad!!! THE IMAGERY OF HIM ON THE LAMP LIKE IT’S A STREETCORNER JUST TWISTED THE KNIFE. Your writing really is so excellent, the way you can carry us through so many different emotions… Joe my belovedddd. I’m simply obsessed with the implications of him NAMING HARRY. WHAT IS /THAT/?? And the way that the narration in the story from this point on swaps to using Harry as his name… it speaks VOLUMES without you needing to elaborate on it at all. Joe has changed him! He’s becoming someone he likes better than Herman! A day we had good luck… Harry is good luck… Luck as a concept very different from what giants think of… I am absolutely enamored with how clearly he has a whole other world, another culture, that Harry can only guess at and be grateful to be included in.

JOE GETTING A NICE BATH AND A COMFORTABLE BED IN THIS CHAPTER IS JUST SO WHOLESOME (even if it will torment his Calvinist sensibilities later…) I am also so charmed to imagine how Joe must have woken up and been like “what the FUCK did I do last night. Where the HELL am I 🤨”

And then in Ch11 he’s like I WILL PROCEED NOT TO THINK OF THAT AT ALL. <- clueless

Ch11 is one of my favorites I think… we really get a good glimpse into how much heavy-duty rationalizing Joe is doing LMAO. “Taking food is fine, because I’m just using this tall bastard.” “It’s fine if I have leisure time.” “It’s fine if I like Harry and his company and I miss him when he’s gone and I want to give him a name.” “AS LONG AS I DON’T GET COMFORTABLE ALL OF THIS IS FINE.” This line is such a banger lol: “Joe Piccoli was many things as he went to sleep that night, but he was not a pet, and he was not comfortable.” And then the mouse!!! That Joe decides to draw rather than kill!!! Look at his needs being met!!!!!

IT ALSO ABSOLUTELY FUCKIN KILLED ME WHEN I REALIZED IN THIS CHAPTER THAT THE BOYS HAVE JUST. FULLY LEFT THAT FLOORBOARD OFF LMFAO??? THAT’S HIS SKYLIGHT NOW…

And then. Good god. The arm scene… it’s just. Soooo. 👌👌👌👌 I’m so … 😵‍💫💖❤️‍🔥…

“I’m a wild tiny!” “You’re going to be a dead tiny if that gets infected.” Their dynamic is so fucking funny. AND THE TENDERNESS OF HARRY TOUCHING JOE… Joe being so overwhelmed not exactly with fear but HMMM I WONDER WHAT EMOTION AND WHY HE MIGHT FEEL SO OVERWHELMED HE STILL NEEDS TO CLOSE HIS EYES AND PRETEND HE’S HIDDEN UNDER THE FLOOR AGAIN… 🤔🤔🤔 whyever would the touch of this kind giant make his hair stand on end and make him contemplate the reverence he’s being touched with and leave his cheeks burning… it is a mystery

And then Joe being so afraid the mouse would be hurt because in contrast to the kindness he’s been shown, he still has this long history of awful experiences with giants.. this part in particular made my heart hurt:

“Don’t kill the mouse, Harry, please don’t kill it. It’s just like me. It hasn’t done anything to you.” Joe begged.

Followed by him remembering that this is /Harry, his friend, who he knows/:

“The words hit Joe like the breaking of a spell, and he stood in the kitchen windowsill feeling downright foolish. Of course Harry wouldn’t kill the mouse, Joe realized - of course he wouldn’t do that.”

OUGH. This story is SO delicious I’m beyond obsessed…

The two of them having a much less Charged encounter after Joe has resolved some of his internal conflicts, at least for the moment… chatting away like they’re two normal friends while Harry touches him… 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH‼️

Their motorcycle shenanigans… Harry showing Joe his precious Contraption and Joe absolutely hating it omg it was so peak 😭 PLAYING “WHO’S-MORE-BORING CHICKEN”… the way Joe is like “I would rather Die than have to listen to this guy talk about how he’s more exciting than me. Absolutely not.”

I also very much appreciate the foreshadowing of the street car on this re-read…

AND may I say I really love that they went on a little nature trip together!!! I have thought often of the potential of a g/t story set outdoors, where the normal sized person and the tiny are both made small by how all-encompassing the wilderness is. Something to do with camping or backpacking! Maybe something I want to write one day! This gave me a delightful taste of that.

AND ANYWAY THE ACCEPTING OF COMFORT EVEN AS IT FLIES IN THE FACE OF EVERYTHING HE’S BEEN TAUGHT TO ROMANTICIZE AND VALUE… ouuuughhh GET LOVED IDIOT!! GET SEEN AND KNOWN AND TAKEN CARE OF!!!

And then ch12… Harry’s realization that Joe won’t ever bring up anything if it’s just for his own benefit. Which by the way, on a re-read I can appreciate how cleverly you’ve set this up, if I didn’t write that clearly enough before! There’s something cultural there but also, I think, something uniquely Joe that Harry maybe can’t fully see yet. Harry’s watch from his parents breaking down at the same moment he’s trying to change his relationship with Joe, the new most important person in his life (at least I presume! He doesn’t seem to have other close friends/family) … very very good. This sentence is so evocative. Simultaneously funny and sad: “With the way Joe’s eyes shifted from side to side one would think the doctor had suggested they go rob a bank.” It’s very good angst realizing how much Harry is asking of Joe without him even knowing it…

BTW this part is so delightful. They’re so interested in each other!!! “When his footsteps announced his arrival, he could see the tiny’s movements through the missing floorboards as his neighbour crossed the floor and climbed back up to the windowsill above the counter.” <- guy who absolutely has NOT been gotten

“Joe smiling. A rare sight indeed.” JUST…. My heaaaart ‼️‼️

Also hilarious how Joe and now Harry have both had “mmm I do NOT like the way this guy is smiling right now” moments 🤣

GOD tho, Joe’s opening up about getting snatched… much like Harry, it made me feel absolutely beside myself.

^^^ AS YOU CAN SEE. I'VE FULLY FALLEN APART.

[caseythebunnyboy]

! MINORS, HOMO/TRANSPHOBES, TERFS/RADFEM, PRO-ANA, DETRANS/MISGENDER KINK, STRAIGHT MEN, STRAIGHT WOMEN & LESBIAN ONLY BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT !

!! WARNING !! this blog will contain hardcore kinks. please don't scroll through my blog if you are sensitive to these things, prioritize yourself.

hello, my name is casey! iam an 18 y/o, 5'4, south-east asian trans boy (he/him exclusively) that is going to be running this tumblr blog! im a bottom switch, which means that i prefer to be the one getting penetrated, but i can be both dom and/or sub while doing so.

taken emoji anons: 🗝️ || 🚂 || 🧸 || 🍅 || 👁️ || 🐺 || 🐦 || 🏹 || 🥀 || 🍡 || 🎸 || 👑🖤 ||

what i will be posting: mainly kinky text posts, nsfw art of myself, and sometimes ill show off my body in a nice outfit when im feeling more confident!

rules & info:

if you cross my boundaries 3 times, i will block you, no exceptions. depending on the severity of the crossing, i might block you instantly with no second chances.

if your blog makes me uncomfortable or i get a bad feeling from it, im blocking you.

sexting and roleplaying with me in my dms is allowed, but i will not send photos to you in dms! i dont feel comfortable doing that. so only strictly texting! i am fine with people sending me videos and photos though, but it depends on what you'll send me.

atleast say hi before chatting me, had someone say "worthless cunt" as their first dm and i blocked them lmao, its not hot to me. greeting me first would be nice.

if you are going to sext and/or rp with me, please keep my kink and no-no lists in mind, i have boundaries too.

only those that arent women and arent exclusively attracted to only women are allowed to sext with me. sorry to the women out there who wanted to, but im not attracted to you... but im sure you're still very pretty, and theres many other people who'd want to chat with you!

what to call my genitals: cock, dick, boy cunt, cunt, cunny, boypussy, bunny pussy, wet hole, front hole, little/small/tight hole, needy hole, bunny hole! (please dont call it a vagina, clit or just "pussy" by itself. only calling it a "pussy" without my preferred additions is something i can excuse sometimes, but i dont like it. vagina and clit will get u straight up blocked.)

what to call my chest area: chest. thats it. if you call it tits, boobs, or anything like that i will block you. even if you say "boy tits" or "man boobs" you are still getting blocked. its either you only refer to it as a chest or you never refer to it at all.

inbox and asks are always open! please send me threats of what you'll do to me if you find me, what you want to do to me, and if you got off to anything i post 💜

my kinks: cnc, somno, teacher/student, power imbalance/dynamic, roleplaying, voice kink, degrading and/or praising me, dry humping/grinding, humiliation, free use, gangbang, overstim, edging, orgasm control/denial, impact play, begging, namecalling, pet play, watersports, monsterfucking, tentacles, breeding (no preg, makes me dysphoric), creampie (also no preg, same reason), cum dump, bondage, shibari, being punished, manhandling, size kink, treating me like your toy, making me into a sex slave, being protective/possessive, dumbification, claiming, jealous/angry sex, rough sex, and teasing. (theres prob alot more but theres so many that i forget lol)

kinks that are hard no's: feet, knife/gunplay, feeder/feedee, ed, choking, scat, vomit, age play, misgendering kink, detrans kink, calling me any term mainly used for women (good girl, queen, princess, babygirl, using she/her for me), drug play, bioessentialism, pregnancy, forced feminization, and gore.

things i like being called: baby boy, bunny boy, little bunny, little boy, cunt boy, bunny, bun bun

tags: #casey ★ grumbling for little (often nsfw) text posts/rambles/thoughts that i dont think are interesting enough to be in other tags, #casey ★ mumbling for text posts, #casey ★ answering for ask posts, #casey ★ doodling for drawings, #casey ★ peeking for body pictures, #casey ★ speaking for important announcements/posts, and #casey ★ sharing for reblogs!

also! this is all a fantasy, i do not actually want this to happen to me. consent and safety is very important in kink, sex and bdsm. i do not condone these actions being done unconsensually.

thats all! i hope my blog can make your dicks throb 💜

#casey ★ grumbling #casey ★ mumbling #casey ★ answering #casey ★ doodling #casey ★ peeking #casey ★ speaking #casey ★ sharing #gay ns/fw #ftm nsft #mlm ftm #mlm ns/fw #mlm nsft #ftm sub #ftm bottom #ftm cnc #ftm somno #gay nsft #trans nsft #trans sub #trans bottom #t4t ns/fw #ftm t4t #t4t nsft #queer nsft #queer ns/fw #bd/sm community

[wingsoverlagos]

Lewisohn vs. Cynthia Lennon, Pt. 1 of 3

Seems like we're getting some momentum, eh? Let's keep it going! To that end, here is the first of three posts comparing Tune In against Cynthia Lennon's memoirs. Cyn wrote two memoirs: A Twist of Lennon (1978, henceforth Twist) and John (2005). Lewisohn cites Twist 21 times and John five times, twice in conjunction with Twist. Of these citations, I found issues with sixteen of them. I'm deferring judgment on footnote 9-33 at this time, as it cites three other sources that I haven't gone through yet.

Cyn's memoirs were used both for quotes and for factual information in Tune In. In general, the quotes were less mangled than the ones taken from the 1980 Playboy interview, but I also stumbled upon some other issues, namely plagiarism and mischaracterization of certain events. Some of that will pop up here, but I intend to make standalone posts to explore those issues further.

For previous Lewisohn fact-checking, check out @mythserene's work and my Lewi-sins tag. Onwards!

Twist p.25-6 vs. Tune In 11-22

This passage describes the emotional timbre of John and Cyn’s relationship starting from their art school days. Tune In gives a mostly faithful account – I’ve underlined/highlighted some details that are consistent in both books. There was one line that stuck out to me in Tune In, though: “she knew he’d dismiss her in a second if she didn’t stand up to him.”

There’s no account of Cyn standing up to John in Twist. She withstands his behavior, but there’s no evidence of her pushing back, particularly in the early days. She describes herself as “a quaking, nervous wreck on many an occasion—so much so that the thought of going into college the following day would fill me with fear and dread.” I can’t think of any passages in Twist where we see Cyn standing up to John, and John (2005) is similar. In the latter, Cyn does give a couple of anecdotes in which she goes against John’s will (e.g. having Julian baptized), but this is usually done in an “ask forgiveness, not permission” way, rather than directly confronting him.

In fact, this isn’t the first time Lewisohn mentions Cynthia standing up to John. Just a few paragraphs before the above example, he writes this:

Cyn standing up to John is crucial enough that Lewisohn mentions it twice in short order, but that dynamic isn’t present in either of Cynthia’s accounts. Of course, there’s always the possibility of bias—perhaps Cyn portrayed herself as meeker than she was in practice—but if that’s the case, Lewisohn needs to provide a source. He mentions conflicting accounts multiple times throughout Tune In, but there’s no word of that here.

This isn’t the only time Lewisohn writes something contradicted by his cited source, and in some of those cases, I’ve found information supporting Lewisohn’s account in another, uncited source—we’ll get an example of that in the Twist citations. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here—I think Lewisohn is subtly but purposefully warping the dynamics of John and Cyn’s relationship to make John come off better. He doesn’t go so far as to erase or excuse John’s abuse, but he implies there was more give-and-take in the relationship than was really there.

Twist p.18 vs. Tune In 10-34

There are no factual errors or misquotes here; Lewisohn is instead too faithful to the source material. Cyn describes her first dance with John as “slow and smoochy”; Lewisohn describes it as “slow, smoochy.” Yeah, he changed the “and” into a comma, but this is still plagiarism. “Slow” is a classic dance descriptor, but “smoochy”? Lewisohn is lifting original, distinct verbiage with little change. If this was a one-off thing, I might give him a pass, but he frequently leans heavily on distinctive phrases from his sources. There will be a post.

Twist p.30 vs. Tune In 13-10

Omission without ellipsis.

Twist p.42-43 vs. Tune In 13-53

A one-word quote from Cyn, but Cyn did not say that one word. Without the quotes this would be fine.

Twist p.37 vs. Tune In 13-64

The quote itself (in green) is consistent here, but check out the surrounding sections in pink. Cyn says that the boys’ magic was “so indefinable as to be almost non-existent at times” until they started playing. Lewisohn uses it as a blanket description of the band while playing. Not the most consequential change, I know, but Lewisohn is nevertheless using a quote in a way that directly contradicts the source.

Twist p.42 vs. Tune In 15-32

A few dropped words and one large, unmarked omission in the middle of the quote, but the meaning is retained.

Source: Lennon C. 1978. A Twist of Lennon. New York (NY): Avon Books. 190p.

#mark lewisohn #tune in #the beatles #cynthia lennon #john lennon #lewi-sins