#doorstep collapse

[crimsonlyinglilly]

AMOW 3. A Long Cold Night  / Doorstep Collapse

Day three of AMonthOfWhump's March Trope-a-Thon

Back to Reincarnation woes AU and the beginning, where I *checks notes* kill Elijah again, but this time with his whole family. sorry

Warning for child death.

(Mikael didn't take to learning about Esther's deal and decides to save his grandchildren by- killing them. Grandfather of the century Mikael. not)

Fun fact this Au also has the subtitle of Auntie Dahlia redemption.

---

Freya had never thought she could be happy with Dahlia, since she was stolen from papa and her Finn. She grew up fearful of Dahlia’s anger and cruelties.

Some small part of her is jealous that someone else managed to get past Dahlia's cold bitter cruel self to find the person underneath that Freya had given up on, but her little brother had managed it within just a few meetings, seen what Dahlia truly wanted and bargained with her to keep his daughter with him and prepare her in the way no one had Freya.

She had followed Dahlia with growing horror when her aunt had told her of another firstborn, wondering which sibling she would watch as they had their child stolen from them.

The man that met them had Dahlia’s look but Freya knew him, since she pressed a tiny hand on mother’s swelling belly and felt the little life inside.

Elijah gave all his magic, untrained as it was, to Dahlia keep Astrid with them until she reached 16, so his daughter could grow up loved but aware of her future so any future siblings would know of the deal and be prepared not to fight it. He reminded her that if she didn’t take his offer and stole the child from them there they would never have another child from his line, holding the fact that mother had already ended their sibling’s lines and Kol disinterested in children of his own.

In a way she shouldn’t have been surprised that Elijah was the one to see though Dahlia, she never would have thought the babe she had once dreamed of holding could mirror her captor and nightmare but as she stood behind Dahlia and watched as Elijah stared back waiting her her answer, the pretty dark haired woman holding the child in question and a boy around eight behind her, behind him.

Dahlia accepted but demanded a link to the girl before she left, the other man there, barely more than a boy himself had stepped in to argue for a short lived link one that would force her to visit every few months.

She had watched as Dahlia stripped Elijah of his magic before they left that night. Watched with mild envy, unsure if it was the way Dahlia had taken all she wanted from him and he shrugged it off or the way Kol had caught him, the easy way they were with each other as Kol scolded and Elijah had laughed weakly that he hadn’t expected to feel it to be that much.

She never questions why Elijah had never been trained with his magic, why it seemed none of her siblings but Kol had, she learns to block out the fact she could always feel Elijah magic in the link she shared with Dahlia a ghost in their bond, and a constant reminder of what Elijah had given up to keep his daughter where no one had for her.

----

That was how it started, how she learned Kol was a natural prodigy at their craft with no interest in joining a coven or having children to Dahlia’ open annoyance, every few months they would travel from the hut they had built a little over day away from any other humans to the village her brothers had settled, she got to know them, watched as Astrid grew. 

For the first time since she was stolen she felt like she had a family.

Within years Astrid was followed by Sigrid and they had started visiting once a month, Dahlia started teaching Astrid along with her constant shadow Sigrid, Freya started to see the rare warmth that had kept her going through the worst of her childhood more often.

The biggest and clearest sign of the change was Dalla, her third niece who was named for the woman who saved her. 

During a thick winter storm Hale had arrived at their hut begging help for Tatia who had gone into labour and something had gone wrong, while Kol was away from the village, Dahlia truly had no reason to help, she had her firstborn and another to continue the line if Astrid didn’t want to bring another child to face Dahlia’s resentment, Elijah may have even be easier to push into giving up astrid earlier if left to raise three children on his own.

Instead Dahlia had ordered her to grab the medical herbs and they had followed the boy back to find out Elijah hadn’t sent him, Dahlia had taken charge and by the time Kol had returned it was to a living but tired Tatia and niece named for Dahlia.

Freya had watched quietly as Dahlia took the news with wide eyes, and saw before they left Dahlia had placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder when her brother’s mask had slipped to reveal how shaken the night had left him.

Dahlia looked, even at a distance, very clearly unused to comforting someone one but it wasn’t until Elijah said something to her was her hand tightened enough that it looked natural.

It takes Freya two months to realise Dahlia had started to look at Elijah like she looked at her and Astrid, a possessive ownership, doesn't really want to know what he had said to her to earn that.

Still as Dalla grew to join her sisters in their monthly lessons with Dahlia is was clear Dahlia paid a little more attention to the girl with her name, neither Astrid or Sigrid care much perhaps they would have the older they got but when Freay had asked the two while Dahlia was distracted by the younger one they had shrugged and informed her it made sense since their mama had Hale, and papa had Uncle Kol, while they had each other.

Not that she’ll admit she was any better when it came to Frey, her littlest nephew, the one named for her by Astrid, the little boy who reminded her of her own shadow, her Finn.

She learns later of Elijah’s second deal, offering all his children for Dahlia’s claim on Kol’s line, that Dahlia had laughed when she realised he had given her a choice of the coven she wanted, one she had grown and trained or give that up on the off chance the prodigy she had once wanted, changed his mind.

She had accepted the deal and for a few years Freya had seen a future where instead of it being her, Freya and Astrid, they could move to the village, live as normal as life as she could.

Two weeks before Astrid turned sixteen she, though the temporary link she had with her nieces and nephew, felt that dream end.

Sharp, sudden and painful she felt each of her nieces die, they were already out of the house running before Frey vanished.

It’s too late when they arrive, they know it would have been but somehow she hadn’t pictured the full horror until she found Kol and Hale alone surrounded by cloth wrapped bodies. Moved past them without thought somehow still hoping it was a nightmare and all she had to do was step past the door to find them all their alive.

The home is covered in blood, puddles and pools she can almost see where they fell, her legs give out in the doorway, it’s Hale that catches her in her collapse, her nephew in all but blood, the only nephew she had. She hadn’t cried during the run, desperate denial keeping her going, she did then, in Hale’s arms, the boy she watched grow into a man the way she hadn’t been able to with any of her brothers, the way she wouldn’t with Frey.

She’s numb as they’re told what happened, Dahlia’s rage shakes the trees at news of Mikael taking from her again but Freya feels nothing but a hollow ache.

Her little brother, his beloved wife, her precious nieces, her treasured nephew taken, murdered by the man she loved, the only parent she had cared for. 

Her papa was a monster.

It was a very long cold night, she sat as Kol and Hale built the pyres and carefully transferred the bodies,

They each take a moment to say they goodbyes, Freya ignores over hearing Kol promise Tatia and Elijah that he would watch over Hale the way she ignores the way his voice breaks.

It wasn’t fair after the weeks she had wished to see Elijah born that she would miss that but see his funeral.

She focuses on the funeral shroud of her oldest niece when instead of the tight grip Dahlia has on Elijah’s shroud.

She lays a hand the head of her little shadow, her Frey the smallest body on the pyre, and wishes she could feel his soft hair under the cloth, wishes she would see his bright crooked grin that he had gotten from his papa but was much freer showing it.

After they say their words, Kol lights a torch for Hale, who lights the pyres for Tatia and Elijah, she watches as Dahlia and Kol follow and light Astrid’s and Sigrid’s, leaving Frey's to her.

She takes a breath and lights it, realising as she had to dig for it that Dahlia still held the magic she had taken from Elijah years earlier separately.

She’s not as angry at the thought of it anymore, it was something they had of him, a reminder of the decade and a half of happiness.

It was a very long cold night, despite the flames as they all stood and watched the pyres burn.

Dahlia and she leave within a month to return to the place they had lived before they had been called by Astrid’s birth, there was no point to remain since the only living line Dahlia still had a claim to was exhausted in a night.

----

A few centuries later it’s the memory of happy magic lessons with her nieces and the awe in Dahlia’s eyes as she held Dalla after learning her name that gives Freya the courage to speak to her instead of running with Matthias, that lead her to the chance of watching as her son take his first steps, seeing both her children growing older than her brother's children, of decades loving a good man.

That meant even when she lost Matthias after years of marriage she still had her son and daughter by her side when they returned to their century sleep.

#amow tropeathon2024 #day3 #A Long Cold Night #Doorstep Collapse #fanfiction #elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #freya mikaelson #dahlia to #original characters #the originals #fic #the originals fic #the originals au #AU - reincarnation woes

[bythesigninthescarletprison]

Mephis' Bargain

This is a very, very old piece I did for @whumpawoman 's Angstpril back in...2021? I think? I never posted it. Prompt was "Doorstep Collapse"

“Christ almighty,” the retired villain swore. They were starting to regret answering the doorbell.

“Hey, Mephis,” breathed the young hero. She was hunched over, one hand clutching her side, the other holding her upright with a death grip on the outdoor lamp. The yellow light cast her face in peaks and shadows, but the twisted smile-turned-grimace was visible enough. “C’n I come in?”

“The hell happened to you?” Their eyes dropped to the spreading dark patch under the hero’s hand. 

“Knife,” she grunted. “Stupid mistake.” Her hand slipped on the lamp. “Can we take this inside, please?”

They shook their head. “Are you suicidal, woman? Or do you think I am?” They started to shut the door. “I’ll call you an ambulance.”

“Wait!” She pitched toward them, and the sudden weight nearly knocked them over. The hero slumped to the floor. Their nice, freshly cleaned, heart-of-pine floor. 

“Jesus, sweetheart--is that the knife?” They saw it now, buried mostly to the hilt in the hero’s side. From a glance, it looked like the sort of cheap thing one could buy at almost any pawn shop, or the corner stores on the rougher edges of town. 

“Yeah,” she gasped. With monumental effort she rolled herself off of her injured side. “Please, Mephis. I need help.” 

“You’ll get it at the hospital.” Their phone was already in their hand. “Your team is probably out looking for you already, don’t y’all have ten minute check-ins?”

She shook her ever-paler face. “Stupid--stupid mistake--”

“Your pride ain’t worth my life, kiddo.” They began dialing. “I am retired, I ain’t puttin’ my head on the line if you die--”

“Ugh!” Her fist pounded ineffectually on the floor. “They were just kids, okay? But the League--” Her eyes started to drift closed until Mephis prodded her with a foot. “Ow--kids…won’t survive…” Glazed eyes sought theirs. “I’ll owe you.”

Mephis stilled before sliding the phone back into their sweats. They knelt slowly, cradling the hero’s head in their hands. “Will you, now?” they said, softer now, controlled. Dealmaking, after all, was their proper domain. 

“Yes,” she breathed. She had to know what a stupid, reckless bargain it was. But by her own admission, it wasn’t her first stupid call of the evening. “You got enough blood?”

They chuckled. With a quick move they pulled the knife from her side. A slice to their palm, both bloods intermingled, and the pact was sealed. 

“Thank you,” sighed the hero. Her eyes were drooping closed again. Mephis bent over her, putting pressure and a bit of their power on her wound.

“Oh, don’t thank me just yet, honey,” they drawled. “When you wake up, we’ll have a talk about what you’re gonna be doin’ for me.”

#angstpril #doorstep collapse #heroes and villains #My writing

[marvel-and-moor]

This is the most important image in the world. Bruce wearing Jen's small flowery sweater. He should always wear this actually

#The Incredible Hulk 1997 #Bruce Banner #Jennifer Walters #Context is he showed up on her doorstep shirtless (cause y'know Hulk stuff) and immediately collapsed #when he woke up he had this shirt on #his response was #'oh nice shirt. and I didn't bring you anything'

[daydream-ideas]

Daydream about a villain showing up at your house without explanation, only to collapse on the doorstep.

#doorstep collapse trope my beloved #daydream #daydreaming #daydreamer #daydreamers #daydreams #immersive daydreaming #immersive daydreamer #the daydreaming queue #daydream ideas #para #paras #paraportal #paracosm #paracosms

[paleontaxi]

▸   @bleedingovereden​   ⟶   ❛  " take it easy. you're safe now, but you need to relax. " //throws ink at you. throws ink at you. thr  ❜   ╱   (  meme , accepting .  )

As Jarod’s eyes adjust to the light, he can see that it is morning or maybe mid-afternoon.  Daytime, at any rate, indiscernible exactly when through the curtains pulled shut.  The slit of sunlight peeking through makes his head scream.

He has a vague recollection of the fight he was in last night, some Brigade brat who didn’t want to meet an early end but went down eventually all the same.  They got a few good hits in on Jarod, though, which happens sometimes—occupational hazard.  He tries to sit up and grimaces when both his head and abdomen protest.

A warm hand is on his forehead, pressing him back against the pillow, and he looks over to see Ink.  “Oh, the bartender,” he murmurs.  He doesn’t recall drinking last night, but maybe he ended up near the Morning Glory, anyway.  Stranger things have happened when people end up on autopilot.

“Where’m I? What time’s it?” he asks blearily, slurring.  His eyes slip closed at the feeling of long, slender fingers working their way into his hair, and he forces them open again.  “M’gonna be late for work.”

#🚕 ☲☲☲ ✘ so‚ where are we headed today with happy taxi ? 【 ic 】 #🚕 ☲☲☲ ✘ don't insult me 【 answered 】 #bleedingovereden #//my friends and i were talking about how jarod is the most bisexual man in the world #//despite being so deeply closeted #//and like. yeah. showing up on the doorstep of the one guy you have a positive relationship with #//covered in blood and on the brink of collapse #//is PEAK bisexuality

[publicabsent]

@huntedvideo: take it easy. you're safe now, but you need to relax. / accepting.

it was less like sleep & more like being knocked out. (she doesn't really remember where she ended up, only knowing she didn't make it the whole way home.) the wild-haired medium jolts into consciousness, the shock of reality being offset by the latent pain that comes with sitting up too quickly. her eyes are wide, like a frightened animal. she jumps at fin's voice, feeling the pull of dried blood down the sides of her neck as she turns to look at him. dry, cracked lips purse to form the question of where she is, but no sound comes out. it's a safe guess to figure his house, but even then. annette only hopes her guilty expression conveys the apologies she'd spew if she were able.

#huntedvideo #✽ ➝ verse 001. ❜ #✽ ➝ answered. ❜ #the most fuckt up looking young woman appears at ur doorstep n then collapses #she wakes up like a feral cat . wyd

[autoneurotic]

no, better—sorta like a dream (isn’t it?)

#collapsing outside your doorstep #air france #music #home #SoundCloud

[scuderiahoney]

Puzzle Piece

Lando Norris x best friend!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re always drawn to Lando. He’s always happy to have you near him. Finally, the pieces might just click into place. Based off this request.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication

You turn up on your best friend’s doorstep, heels in hand, one of the straps of your dress falling down your shoulder. It only takes a light knock, and then you hear footsteps, the clock of the lock. Lando swings the door open, an amused smile already on his lips.

“Hi, hun,” he says in a teasing tone. “You’ve had a good night, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Can I come in?”

“F’course,” he says, ushering you inside with a hand pressed to your upper back. “Did you walk here?”

You nod. He sighs. It’s a cycle. You can almost predict word for word what he’ll say next. Should’ve just called me-

“- I would’ve picked you up,” he says, as if he’s finishing your train of thought. “And you walked here barefoot? Are you-“

“Crazy?” You say, at the same time as him. “No. Just tired, ‘nd my feet hurt.”

You walk into the living room and collapse onto the couch with a heavy sigh. He does the same, sitting next to you. You shiver when his fingers brush against your shoulder, directing the strap of your dress back into place. He reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear after that. You lean into the touch.

“Did you have fun?” He asks.

He knows you were out with friends tonight, dinner and drinks and dancing. You nod, lifting your feet off the floor and placing them on the couch. He reaches out and sweeps your legs across his lap, and you sigh happily. Then he tosses a blanket over the two of you.

“Yeah. Sadie found a guy, though, so she left early. And Madi had way too many shots. Had to call her boyfriend to come get her,” you say. “Oh, I ran into your coworker. He bought me a drink.”

Lando wrinkles his nose at that. “Which one?”

You open your mouth to answer, but you fumble for the name. You furrow your brows, sliding farther down into the couch. Lando lets out a squeaky laugh.

“He bought you a drink and you don’t even remember his name?” He asks incredulously.

“I know his name,” you scoff, rubbing your cheek. “I just. I’m drunk, Lan.”

He laughs, reaches out, wraps his arm around your shoulders. He pulls you in, and you go willingly. Happily, even. You rest your head between his jaw and his shoulder, burrowing into the warmth of his skin.

“Pierre,” you tell him.

Lando scoffs. “Pierre has a girlfriend.”

“Never said he bought me a drink and asked me out or anything,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Just that he bought me a drink.”

Lando laughs again and rests his chin atop your head. You melt against him. He rubs your back gently, hand bumping over the low back of your dress and your bare skin.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You nod sleepily against him. “If it’s alright.”

“Always is,” he says quietly.

On the nights you go out, you end up at Lando’s place more often than you end up at your own. Whether he’s out with you or waiting at home, you head towards him, like a beacon to your drunk mind. How can you help it, really, when he holds you like this, when he’s warm and soft, when he gives you clothes to wear and food and water and tucks you into bed? Of course you want to be with him.

He rubs a thumb over your cheek. “You hungry?”

You nod, biting back a yawn. He laughs again, that light little sound that makes your heart warm. He nudges your shoulder lightly.

“There’s clothes in the guest room for you,” he says, nodding towards the hallway. “Go change and I’ll get you some food, yeah?”

You nod, untangling yourself from him and stretching as you get up off the couch. He squeezes your hip as you do so. You stumble your way towards the guest room on aching feet. The bed is made, one of your favorite blankets laid across the bottom. There’s one of his shirts, a pair of shorts, and a hoodie all laid out for you on the bed, too. There’s even a pair of socks, folded neatly there. He must’ve assumed you’d show up eventually, since he knew you were going out tonight.

Suddenly, your heart is racing. You’re not sure why, can’t pinpoint it in your hazy state. Something to do with the way he takes care of you. You change, leaving the dress laying on the floor, feeling much more comfortable in his clothing. You make your way back to the living room, then towards the kitchen when you hear him there.

He’s at the stove, staring through the glass door. When you peer into it, too, you see a frozen pizza baking. You smile and drape yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around his middle. He sighs happily.

“This is why you’re my favorite,” you murmur.

“Mm. That’s why you come over, huh?” He says. “Not to see me, it’s the food.”

You laugh, squeeze your arms around him. “No. I come over to see you. The rest is an added bonus.”

He turns in your arms and pulls you into his chest, a bright smile on his face. “Okay. I’ll take that.”

You eat dinner with him, or really, a very late snack. Or an early, early breakfast. Then he gets you a glass of water and herds you towards the guest room. He takes the glass back just before you flop backwards onto the mattress with a laugh. He lifts your legs for you by the ankles to get you fully into the bed, peels back the blankets so he can tuck you in. You tug at his hip until he sits down next to you. He sweeps stray hair from your forehead as you blink slowly.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he says softly.

“Love you, Lan,” you mutter, eyes closed.

“Love you too,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Five minutes later, probably when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, he says, “more than you know. I love you more than anything.”

Then he leaves the room. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, wondering if you’ve dreamed it all.

…..

A week later, Lando opens his front door expecting pizza, and instead finds you. He blinks wildly, trying to figure out exactly what’s going on. He hadn’t known you were going out tonight, but here you are at his front door, very obviously drunk. In fact, as he takes in the look on your face, the dullness of your gaze, he thinks you’re beyond drunk. Wasted. Blacked out, maybe. His stomach churns uncomfortably.

“Baby,” he says softly, watching the way your face melts into a soft smile. “You okay? You didn’t tell me you were going out.”

You shrug. “Didn’t.”

You slip past him and into the apartment. He follows closely behind, frowning. He swears he can smell the vodka on your skin- like the nail polish remover his sisters used growing up. He closes the door behind the two of you and reaches for your wrist.

“Hey,” he says, as you stumble into his chest and sigh. “Are you okay?”

You shrug again in response. He fights the urge to groan loudly. He takes your face in his hands and tilts it up towards him. You blink slowly, eyes wide and staring blankly back at him.

“How much did you have to drink?” He asks.

You shrug. Worry sinks into his chest, makes a home there. He runs a thumb across the smooth skin under your eye. He hates to see you like this.

“A lot, huh?” He asks.

Finally, a nod instead of a shrug. He cocks his head at you.

“But you didn’t go out?”

You shake your head.

“Why did you drink a lot, by yourself, at home?” He asks.

You return to your signature shrug. This time he does groan. He lets go of your face, though, and takes you by the shoulders and spins you slowly. He decides it’s best to get you sitting down, so he leads you to the living room, to your spot on the couch. You collapse there, but the usual soft, comfortable smile is missing from your face. He frowns down at you.

You reach out and tug on his shirt. He knows what you’re asking and he goes willingly, happily. He sinks down onto the couch next to you with a soft sigh and pulls you into his chest. You fit there perfectly, like always, like his favorite puzzle piece. He feels so much more at peace when he has you tucked against him. He reaches out and pulls your legs into his lap, curling protectively around you.

“You wanna talk about whatever made you sad enough to get this drunk on a random Tuesday?” He asks, softly.

You shrug and sniffle. His heart clenches in his chest. He hates to see you sad.

“M’fine,” you insist.

He’s not sure what else he expected- you’re blackout drunk, it’s not like you’re going to hold a whole conversation with him. But still, he has to try. He feels a tear drip onto his collarbone and he knows something’s terribly wrong. It’s breaking his heart.

“Baby,” he says, softly. “What’s going on?”

You pull away, blink up at him. “I’m hungry.”

He huffs, knowing that’s not the full story. “Good news. I’ve already got pizza on the way.”

You smile widely, the first smile he’s pulled from you since you showed up at his door. He wipes a stray tear from your cheek, and you smile at him despite it. Then you tuck yourself back into him. He sighs and decides it can wait. He lets you stay there until the doorbell rings- the pizza is here.

He leaves you on the couch while he retrieves the food, and then goes to rejoin you in the living room. He doesn’t bother with plates, knowing you won’t care. Except when he returns, you’re gone, and he frowns. He calls your name and gets no response, but then he hears a noise from the kitchen and goes to investigate.

You’re standing at the fridge, a bottle of vodka in your hand. You stare widely at him, a deer caught in the headlights.

“Baby,” he says softly. “I don’t think you need any more alcohol.”

“The pizza’s gonna sober me up,” you tell him with a frown.

He tries to rub away the ache in his chest, but it doesn’t work. “Yeah, sweetheart. S’kinda the point.”

You frown at him, but when he walks over, you let him take the bottle and put it back in the fridge. He leans in and grabs you a can of soda instead. Then he slips his hand into yours and leads you back to the living room. You follow him reluctantly.

After a couple slices of pizza and a can of soda, you fall asleep against his shoulder. He lets you rest for a bit, until his arm starts to fall asleep and his own eyelids grow heavy. Then he lifts you up carefully and carries you to the guest room, tucking you in with a kiss to your forehead. You stir at the touch.

“I love you, Lan,” you tell him, half asleep, eyes still shut.

“Yeah, honey, love you too.” He answers.

“Not the same,” you say, barely a whisper.

He wants to ask you what you mean, what that could possibly mean, but you’re fast asleep again within seconds. He lays awake in his own bed for hours after, worry gnawing at his gut over the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face. He knows in the morning you’ll tell him you were just drunk, that’s you’re fine. You’ll plaster a smile on your face and try to make him believe you . But he can’t shake the feeling that something is really wrong.

…..

The next time you show up at his door, you’re in a much better mood. He opens the door with a grin, and you lean towards him immediately, trusting that he’ll catch you. He does, of course, letting out a soft oof as your head makes impact on his shoulder.

“Geez, okay, let’s get inside before you start falling over,” he suggests.

He takes hold of your shoulders and drags you inside. You’re giggling as you trip over your own feet and his, too.

“Look, I made it here with my shoes on,” you say, pointing out the sneakers on your feet.

He laughs. “Proud of you, baby.”

You laugh again, leaning heavily on him as you throw your arms around his neck. Your nose drags along his jaw. He smells nice, familiar. You could stay right here forever.

“I like when you call me that,” you admit, the words tumbling off your drunk lips. “Baby.”

Lando sighs, resting his hands gently on your hips. “Okay, baby, let’s get you sitting down, yeah? And maybe some food and water. I think someone’s a bit drunk.”

You whine into his skin, laughing at the way he shivers. You press your nose to his collarbone as he tries to walk you backwards towards the living room. He laughs and does his best to keep you both steady, but when you tug on his arm you both end up tumbling over. Lando, quick reflexes and all, manages to direct both of you into the couch. He lands halfway on top of you, and you sigh happily.

“This is nice,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“You’ve had wine tonight, haven’t you?” He asks, voice low.

You nod against his chest. “How’d you know?”

He laughs. “Because you’re a clingy wine drunk. Vodka makes you sad, and seltzers make you bubbly.”

You sigh in response and try to pull him closer. He’s wearing a t-shirt with a worn out neckline- you press your cheek to the sliver of skin on his chest that’s left bare for you. The warmth of him is comforting, his skin is soft against yours. He groans softly, and then the whole world is moving around you- Lando flips the two of you over on the couch, so he’s laying under you, and you rest against his chest.

“D’you want food?” He asks, running his hand over the top of your head.

“Mmm, no, not hungry,” you say.

“Thirsty?” He asks.

“Not for water,” you say. It slips out before you can really even think about it.

“Well, you’re not having more alcohol,” he says.

“S’not what I meant,” you say.

He sputters out a laugh, chokes your name out in the middle of it. You dissolve into giggles, burying your head in his chest. And it’s funny, really, but he’s so warm and soft against you, and you love him, you have for a while, and two times ago when you were drunk he said he loved you more than anything. Now you’re wine drunk and clingy, and you want to kiss him so badly.

You lift your head, fold your hands on his chest, and rest your chin on top of them. “You should kiss me.”

He laughs, presses a silly kiss to your forehead, complete with a cheesy mwah. You roll your eyes.

“A real kiss,” you insist. “Like you love me.”

He blinks softly at you, eyes going wide. You keep the smile on your face- it’s all your drunk mind knows how to do. You know you’ll probably regret this in the morning, but you stare at him anyway. It’s too late now.

“You said you love me more than anything,” you tell him.

He frowns slightly. “I thought you were asleep,” he says.

“I wasn’t,” you shrug. “Is it true? Cause ‘f it is, you should kiss me.”

Lando stares at you, eyes even wider now. His cheeks are flushed, lips parted. You start to wonder if you’ve made a huge mistake- he’s your best friend, and here you are, showing up at his place drunk, asking him to kiss you.

“Baby,” he says, softly, tenderly, gently. “You’re drunk.”

“But you said-“ you cut yourself off, squeeze your eyes shut. “You said-“

“I know what I said,” he says softly. “And I’m not taking it back or saying it isn’t true. But I’m not going to have this talk while you’re drunk, and I’m definitely not kissing you while you’re drunk.”

You let out a huff. He laughs and runs his thumb against your cheek. You open your eyes to stare at him, then turn your head to press your lips against the heel of his hand. He gives you a wobbly smile.

“Stay the night,” he suggests, voice breathy. “And we’ll have breakfast tomorrow and talk about it all, yeah?”

You nod, eyes growing watery. Lando pouts at you. He leans close and kisses your cheek sweetly, his hand still holding the side of your face.

You follow him to the bedroom shortly afterwards, and he tucks you into the guest bed. You fight to keep your eyes open as he sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his hand over your shoulder.

“We’ll talk tomorrow?” You ask, softly. “Promise you’ll remind me?”

He nods, chewing on his lower lip. “Promise.”

He kisses your forehead just before you fall asleep. You dream about him, like you almost always do.

…..

You wake up in the morning to sunlight streaming through the windows. Anxiety has already made its home in your chest. You remember everything from the night before, every last bit. You wonder if Lando is hoping you don’t. If he wishes you’d never showed up to his place. Maybe he’ll pretend nothing happened, and the two of you can just move past it. That would make all of this easier.

You roll out of bed, brush your teeth, and decide it’s time to face the music. You can hear actual music playing faintly in the kitchen, so you go to find Lando. He’s humming along, bobbing his head to the beat as he cooks something on the stove. You stop in the doorway to watch.

“I know you’re there,” he says without even turning to look. “Come sit. I’m making breakfast.”

You wander over to the kitchen counter, sliding a barstool out and perching yourself on it. You stare at the back of his head, trying to get any sort of information out of his body language. You can read him so well, usually, but this feels more complicated. He hasn’t even looked at you. Your stomach churns with anxiety.

“Lan,” you say, softly, watching the way his shoulders tense. “Did I annoy you last night?”

He finally turns, eyes meeting yours. “What do you remember?”

You shrug. His eyes trace your face, wide and bright. You can’t read his expression, can’t tell what he’s feeling. He promised he’d remind you. But this is his out- maybe you should let him have it. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, that probably means he doesn’t feel the same. And that would be okay, really. You’ll get over it eventually.

He sets the spatula down on the counter. He drums his fingers against the surface before he turns fully towards you. He holds onto the edge and leans forward, tilting in your direction.

“You didn’t annoy me,” he says, softly.

He tilts his head at you. He releases the counter and stumbles a couple steps forward, landing in front of where you’re sitting on the stool. A small smile crosses his lips, the first hint of an emotion that you’ve caught from him all morning. When his hand comes up to hold the side of your face, you hold your breath.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice low.

You swallow and nod. “Please.”

Everything feels brighter when his lips touch yours. The sun shines through the window, and you feel warm all over. He’s soft and warm against you, his hands holding your face, and you wrap your fingers in his t-shirt to pull him closer. He steps between your legs with a muffled laugh, nips at your lower lip, slides his hands down your neck and shoulders until they fall to rest on your waist. You press yourself against him, and he does the same.

He breaks away for just a moment, lips against your cheek as he says, “I don’t know if you remember, but you said you loved me. And I just need you to know I love you, too. Like- as more than a friend, yeah?”

“Yeah, Lan,” you agree, kissing his jaw. He lets out a sharp whine. “I love you more than anything.”

The bacon is burning on the stovetop. Eventually, one of you will have to do something about that. But for now, he kisses you again, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

When he finally does pull away, he turns off the stove, discards the burnt food, and orders takeout breakfast for both of you. Then he turns to you, eyes sparkling.

“From now on,” he says, fingers holding onto your hips, “call me when you go out and get too drunk to make it home, yeah? I’ll pick you up. That’s what boyfriends do.”

You laugh and then nod in agreement. “I guess I could do that. That would be the right thing to do, as your girlfriend.”

He kisses your forehead. You tuck yourself into his chest. The puzzle clicks into place.

a/n: Lando has been on my mind a lot lately, so here we go! First little bit of dialogue updated after his tweet to Charles lolll

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando Norris oneshot #Lando Norris fluff #Lando Norris friends to lovers #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one oneshot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 fic #x reader #honeywrites

[unoislazy]

Healing Takes Time

Injured! Mizu x Reader

Summary: you’re just a simple healer minding your business, avoiding a fight that had broken out along your street when suddenly an extremely wounded strange man ends up at your door.

Disclaimers; very soft angst, nothing too bad.

Mizu’s pronouns shift depending on the POV

————————————————————

Blood.

Something that Mizu was all too familiar with. The blood of her enemies, her families, even her own. She had seen what could be considered more than the average person's fair share of bloody disputes. That’s been her life, that’s what everything ends in for her.

Blood.

And now, here she was again, drenched in blood. Laying on an empty street surrounded by her foes that she had successfully taken down but not without costing herself a lot of her own energy. She lay there, the only movement coming from her was the shallow rising and falling of her chest as her breathing became more labored. She could barely keep her eyes open as she looked up at the sky.

She wanted to move, she needed to move, she had to finish what she started. She had to get up, this couldn’t be where she died. Not now.

With all the might left in her, Mizu wearily got herself off the ground, propping herself up on whatever she could find around her, standing up as tall as she could without making the pain unbearable. A hard feat to accomplish considering the several broken bones now housed within her body, the slashes she endured that were still leaking blood, and the bruises that had already begun to form in every area. She was in a bad shape, and she knew that, but she couldn’t just let go. She had to continue.

Mizu continued to try to walk, holding herself up with any object near her, but after a certain point she realized she truly wasn't going to get very far. Her mind had become very dizzy and her eyes began to cross.

Before she knew it she had collapsed on the hardwood floor just outside of someone’s house.

Luckily that house belonged to you.

You heard the commotion outside and hid somewhere within your house. You didn’t want to get involved, and you didn’t need to, so you wouldn’t. You had only begun to come out of hiding once you couldn’t hear the fighting anymore.

You sighed in relief, hoping it would be awhile before the next fight would break out. Fights usually broke out on your street, with all the men being thrown out of the different houses for not paying properly or not following the rules. But this fight was much different, much more brutal. The person in the middle you had only gotten a glimpse of before you rushed inside, you couldn’t make out much of them from the distance you were at but they were quite lanky compared to the men they were fighting.

For some reason, you had hoped they had won. Why? You couldn’t tell. People always make assumptions off of the little information they have, and you guessed this was just one of those times.

You rose from your crouched spot, readying yourself to continue whatever activity you had stopped halfway through. You carefully walked towards your door and just as you were about to open it, you heard a loud thump come from the other side.

You jumped back in shock, your hands trembling. What if they were here to get you next? What if they saw you looking and they didn’t want any witnesses? A thousand questions ran through your mind at a million miles a second. You had no idea what to expect from the other side of the door, and you really didn’t want to find out.

And yet, here you were, about to open the door anyways. Your curiosity was getting the better of you. After all, you didn’t hear any other movement, so who or whatever was just dropped on your doorstep was probably of no harm… right?

Your hands still shook with fear as you approached the door, you very carefully grabbed it, slid it open and to your surprise you now faced what you had thought to be a dead body. It didn’t take long for you to realize it was the same person who had been in the middle of the fight. Looks like they won… not by much though.

All you could manage was to stare at what you thought to be a motionless body, devoid of any signs of life. But as you looked closer, continuing to stare you realized.

“They’re alive?” You shouted to literally no one. You panicked a bit, it had been a long time since you had had to work on wounds, especially on someone who seemed to be on the brink of death. You had to act and you had to act fast.

As quickly and as gently as you could, you dragged the person into your house, and sat them in a comfortable position. They groaned a bit as you moved them which was a good enough sign. You had noticed that they also had a sword with them, a katana to be precise.

Maybe they were a samurai?

You shook your head, that wasn’t important right now. Regardless of whether they were a samurai or not, they were bleeding to death and you had to stop it.

You grabbed their sword and rushed back inside, leaning it on the wall before rushing off to grab your kit of medicines that you always kept in the same area of the room if you ever needed to use it again. You had begun to work on them immediately, sewing the open wounds, serving them medicines, feeding them. It was a lot of work for some stranger who just plopped down on your doorstep suddenly.

Four days.

You had been taking care of this person for almost four full days and they didn’t seem to make any signs to signal consciousness. You feared the worst, maybe you hadn’t gotten there in time, maybe you should try a different medicine?

On the bright side, their wounds had closed properly, and seemed to be healing which made you think they were getting better they just needed more rest.

You sighed, standing up and stretching, turning away from the body that still lay fairly motionless. You tried your best and that was truly the most you could do. Although, you truly didn’t want to have to deal with someone’s death on your hands but hey, you weren’t the one fighting them so really this situation could’ve just been avoided all together.

You sat in silence thinking to yourself, paying not a singular ounce of attention to what you assumed to be a man behind you. Why would you? You thought he was unconscious.

Well she was. But now, her eyes had fluttered open, seeing your back fully turned to her. Mizu panicked, not knowing where she was, what had happened to her while she was out. The first thing she tried to look for was her sword, but it was nowhere near her, which meant she was just going to have to take you out herself.

You still hadn’t noticed that the strange man had woken up, but by the time you did, he was already in the process of knocking you over. You were caught so off guard you had no time to even grab onto anything as you fell. You hit the ground and you hit it hard. Your head smacked against the hardwood floor, the rest of your body hitting the ground with a thump, similar to that of the one you heard when you had found the strange man at your door.

You took a second before trying to get back up, only to be slammed back down once again, hands pinned to either side of your head. You gasped, it was truly all you could manage to do as you tried to process what in god's name was even happening to you. One minute you’re standing, the next you’re on the floor with the once unconscious man now straddling you like there was no tomorrow.

“Seems like you’ve healed more than I thought.” You tried to joke. You were very clearly terrified, you had no idea what this person was capable of but if they had taken out a group of men on their own you didn’t even want to begin to think what they could do to you if they saw you as a threat.

“Who are you, where am I?” He asked threateningly, still holding onto your wrists as tight as possible. It stung a bit but you couldn’t blame them for acting in such a way. Anyone would be frightened if they woke up in some strangers house without any means of defending themself.

“I’m just a healer, You’re in my house, you collapsed outside four days ago and I brought you inside to help.” You explained frantically. You hadn’t realized until just then that you had two strikingly blue eyes staring at you. Again, that wasn’t entirely important to the situation at hand but you couldn’t help but be fascinated by them.

The man’s eyes had softened slightly as he looked down at himself, his bloodstained clothes had dried but he had noticed, and felt, some stitches along his arms, and one are on his back. Once he confirmed your explanation to be true, he got off of you, not without groaning in pain a few times. The adrenaline must have kept him from initially feeling the injuries that still remained on his body.

“I gave you medicines and stitched up any injuries I could see. I didn’t feel it appropriate to try and… remove your clothing and all.” You explained, it was a true explanation but you felt embarrassed having to say it regardless.

“Thank you.” He responded quietly, his eyes seemed as if they were glued to the ground before he then looked back to you.

“I’m… sorry for reacting like that.” He apologized, his hands now resting on his lap as he sat on his knees, facing you.

“It’s fine, I’m sure anyone waking up in a strange place would’ve reacted the same way. Maybe not with as much skill.” You joked but it didn’t seem to gain any reaction from the still nameless man in front of you.

“I must get going.” He stated, readying himself to stand. You raised an eyebrow at him, truly not believing his statement. You both knew he was in no shape or form to even be walking around. The fact he had gotten up so swiftly the first time was astonishing.

“Whatever you need to do it will have to wait, you still need to rest.” You began, earning a slight glare from the man. You had never received such a glare from anyone and his blue eyes only enhanced the icy feeling he gave. It was clear he was very determined to leave and not much was going to change his mind, so you continued, “Unless you can walk out that door on your own without using anything for help.”

The door was not that far away, it was an easy walk for anyone who was uninjured. The man clearly took this as a challenge as he stood up, you alongside him in case he fell back.

“I don’t need any help.” He groaned, trying to discreetly hold the side of his torso to quiet the pain.

“Mhm, whatever you say. Just walk towards the door.” You challenged. He huffed, taking one singular step forward before immediately losing his balance and falling into you.

“That’s what I thought.”

You carefully wrapped his arm over your shoulder and helped him back over to the bed that you had laid out for him.

“You need to rest.” You ordered and clearly he was not in a strong enough state for him to argue at all.

“By the way… you never gave me your name. It would be helpful to know considering it seems like you might have to stay here for a while.”

His eyes turned to you, at this point you figured it was the only part of his body that he could move without evoking anymore pain.

He paused for a moment, clearly deep in thought on whether he should give you his name or not. He took a deep breath before responding,

“Mizu. My name is Mizu.” He shared quietly. You smiled in response, glad that he at least seemed to trust you enough to let you know his name.

“Well then Mizu, you need to rest. I’ll make some more soup for you to eat later.”

He nodded quietly before lightly shutting his eyes. You found yourself staring at the man for a bit longer than you probably should have before turning back to start making the soup for him.

Mizu had ended up staying much longer than he had initially anticipated but it turned out he was a lot more hurt than either of you realized. It took him another few days before he could get up and walk around without help, but he still clearly needed a little while longer at least for some of his bones and other injuries to heal.

“You are seriously impatient.” You groaned, watching as the man had grabbed his sword in preparation to go out training yet again.

“I need to train.” He stated plainly, as he made his way towards the door.

“Mizu, I just redid some of your stitches yesterday. You have to give it time before you go back to training or you’re going to keep reopening them.” You scolded, stirring the ladle that sat in the dish of medicine. He paid you no mind as he walked out the door, going to the exact same area in the woods he had been going to for about a week now. Practically the moment he was able to stand on his own he had insisted he was at least well enough to train, and despite your arguments, he always went out anyways. And despite your arguments, he always came back needing more stitches. You had repaired his clothing for him at some point during his stay and while he was thankful, this meant repairing your previous stitches had been a lot more difficult. Luckily the only ones that kept opening were the ones on his arms so there was no real need to have him undress.

You sighed, pouring out some of the medicine into a separate dish before getting up to occupy yourself with something else. You hadn’t had to use any of your medicinal knowledge in a long time. Most people who lived around this area didn’t usually have a need for it considering they were usually too drunk to realize they needed medical help. Sure you had knowledge but you didn't have a business for it, so you didn't exactly go out of your way to help. That being said, if someone wound up at your door needing help, your door was always open.

Not much time had passed before Mizu returned, and just like you had expected, he returned with reopened wounds.

“Is it the ones on your arm?” You asked, to which he nodded before stopping himself.

“And the one on my back.” He responded. You let out a long drawn out sigh in response. Of course, you enjoyed Mizu’s company. He may not say much, but him just being there gave you a feeling you haven't really felt before. You couldn’t exactly place it, but you enjoyed his company. That being said, you didn’t enjoy having to stitch him up all the time. This time you were not allowing him to leave until his wounds properly healed.

Luckily you wouldn’t need him to fully undress, it was just on his back after all so there was no harm in it.

“Then you get yourself situated, I’ll go get the materials.” You sighed, walking to a different room as Mizu went to sit in his usual spot. Once you returned, you were faced with Mizu’s bareback, which was unsurprisingly very toned. You couldn't help but admire his physique before you heard him say,

“Are you just going to stare or are you going to help?”

“Right.” You replied, embarrassed to have been caught staring. You quickly set your things down behind him and got yourself situated. You raised your hand, your fingers very gently tracing the outside edges of the wound which you had noticed caused Mizu to flinch.

“Sorry.” You apologized. It was just something you did in your own practice, you don’t know why but it somehow helped with you visualizing how you were going to stitch it back up. Without another word, you carefully began your procedure. Mizu had always been pretty good about not moving when it came to stitches, you assumed he had to deal with it a lot.

It didn’t take long for you to finish. You sat back, admiring your work before realizing that there was also a wound on his shoulder.

“I should probably do the one on your shoulder too but I can't reach it from back here. Do you mind turning around?” You asked which caused Mizu to hesitate. You didn’t understand why at first, you simply thought he was just going to say he could tough that one out.

“Mizu please, It could get infected if I don’t work on it.” You pleaded, to which Mizu sighed. You stared at him with a visibly confused expression before he slowly turned around to face you.

Clearly it didn't take long for you to realize why he had hesitated in the first place.

However, you paid no mind to it. You were a healer after all, you had to be able to heal all parts of the body so it was something you would’ve had to have gotten used to sooner or later.

Just as you had done before, your fingers softly traced the outside of the wound on her shoulder, earning a hiss from Mizu. You apologized again, just as you had done before. Because of the location of this wound, you unfortunately had to get a bit closer to Mizu’s face than either of you would have preferred at this point in time. You had to be able to see what you were doing of course. She simply just looked in the opposite direction, focusing on one of the paintings you had hanging on your wall.

This was probably the closest either of you had been to each other ever since you met, which to be fair by this point was not that long ago. It was also the first time in a long time either of you had been in a close proximity to… well anyone really. It was uncomfortable at first, but you both relaxed into the closeness after a few minutes.

“So, how long have you been fighting for?” You asked, trying to break the silence a bit. You two had gotten to know each other a fair amount during Mizu’s stay but to be honest, Mizu knew more about you than you did of her. She wasn’t one to really disclose many details, but she was a great listener. When she wanted to be at least

“Many years. Since I was pretty young.” She answered plainly as if she was remembering something from her past.

“Well, your training is going to have to wait.” You said, backing away having finally finished the stitches. She turned to you with a slight glare, much like the one she had given you on the day she first woke up. It was a glare that said, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I'm serious.” You said, sending a stern look back to the incredibly stubborn woman. “If you open those wounds again, good luck trying to do your back by yourself.” You shrugged, basically leaving her no choice on the matter.

“The more you rest, the faster you'll get out of here, and the faster you'll be able to get back to fighting to your heart's content.”

Mizu sighed, she knew you were right, and she knew she was only setting herself back by continuing to train in such a state. So, she silently agreed to listen to you.

“Now get dressed, your food will be ready soon.” To be honest, you both kind of forgot she was topless to begin with which was not something Mizu was expecting. She truly expected some big reaction, some sort of rejection, you kicking her to the curb, but you did none of those things. In fact you didn’t even react at all. It didn’t even occur to her that you hadn’t reacted to her eyes either. The day she woke up, she didn't realize until she was just about to fall back asleep that her glasses had been taken off. She had pinned you down and looked you dead in the eyes and instead of freaking out and calling her a monster you continued to welcome her with open arms. You didn’t even kick her out because of her wild reaction. You were so… understanding.

It was almost unnerving to her. It wasn’t a reaction she was used to so it wasn’t something she knew how to deal with. You just… accepted her like it was nothing. You just simply went back to whatever you were doing beforehand and paid no mind to her flaws. How? Why?

Even after she had gotten back into her normal clothes, her hair done up like usual, her glasses on, you treated her as if nothing had happened. You had yet to shout demon, or to call her a monster while you pushed her way. Instead, if anything, you continued to get closer to her as her stay extended.

You were getting close.

Too close.

As time had gone on, she continued to expect you to suddenly change your mind and no longer allow her company. But that day never came.

“Mizu!” You shouted upon returning home. Mizu sat in her usual place, sipping on some tea she had made not too long before you returned home.

“I saw this in the market today and I thought of you, so I figured I’d buy it. What do you think?” You asked, holding out a patterned bandana that had several different variations of blue on it. Mizu lowered her cup before she walked towards you. She looked down at it, gently taking it from your hands as she continued to stare.

How long had it been since someone had actually gone out of their way to buy something for her…

It was such a small gesture and yet she felt so touched by it. She didn’t want to, she had built walls around her heart for a reason. She didn’t want to let anyone else in out of fear of them rejecting her just as everyone else had done.

But you had already begun to chip away at that wall, piece by piece, slowly working your way into her heart and she hated it. She hated that you were getting so far, she didn’t want to let you in, she didn’t want to make that same mistake.

And yet something was telling her she could trust you. It was that same feeling she had had every other time, so why should she listen now. Why were you being so kind to her, why were you so different from all the rest, why did you not fear her?

“Do you not like it?” You asked quietly, snapping her out of her thoughts. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t like it, it didn't really cost much. I just thought of you when I saw it and I-” Before you could finish your thought, Mizu had quickly enveloped you in a tight hug. You were taken aback by this gesture, not really taking Mizu to be someone to show their appreciation through physical touch. And normally, Mizu wouldn’t be.

It had been so long since Mizu had felt a warm embrace from anyone, but she felt no other way to describe how she felt. Your arms floated above her back as you processed what was happening before you gently placed them down, accepting her embrace. You two stood there for a good while before she let go of you.

She simply muttered quietly, “Thank you.” before walking off.

You smiled as you watched her walk away, your heart pounding in your chest as the moment she began to hug you replayed in your head several times. You had to admit over the course of her stay you had begun to gain feelings for the makeshift samurai. But you knew those feelings couldn't be reciprocated. After all, she would eventually have to leave some day.

And that day finally came.

Mizu had walked into the room that morning as you prepared her usual meal, a somber look on her face as she stared at the same painting she always seemed to be intrigued by.

“What's the matter?” You asked, using the ladle to pour some of the food you had made into the dish before pushing towards her direction. Her eyes traveled down to the dish before making their way back up to you.

“It's time.” Was all she responded with, her eyes carefully watched you to gauge your reaction. Your once usual happy demeanor seemed to vanish in an instance upon hearing the news, it was almost enough to make Mizu wish she hadn’t said it. But the time had to come some day, she had business to attend to and she had already vastly overstayed her welcome.

“Oh… are you sure? You don’t have any extra wounds to stitch up that you’ve been hiding from me or… or a headache that you might need to rest off?” You asked, now standing up to meet her gaze. Clearly you were looking for an excuse for her to stay longer, but you both knew that wasn't going to happen.

“I have to leave and you know I do.” She answered, no longer looking at you. You both enjoyed each other's company over the course of her stay, but Mizu was not going to break her vow just because she simply wanted to stay with you. She had become so greedy with your attention that she had almost forgotten what she had spent so many years preparing for. She had limited time before her knowledge of the location of Fowler would become obsolete, so she needed to act fast.

“I know, but why now? Can’t you stay one more day?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer. You don’t know what you were expecting. You knew her mind couldn’t be changed. If you learned anything about Mizu it was that once her mind was set on something, she wasn’t able to be stopped.

“I’m all healed so that means it's time to go.” She responded, still not looking at you.

“Just-” You began.

“Please.” She whispered, now looking down at the ground.

“What?” You asked, not really able to make out what she had said.

“Please don't make this harder than it needs to be.” She whispered, finally looking up at you. The pain in her eyes was an emotion you had not seen before. It was one you almost felt guilty for being the cause of. You should have just helped her and let her go, but instead you got attached. You both did, and it was a mistake. You knew she would have to leave eventually, you knew nothing good could come from you gaining feelings for her, you knew it would only lead to both of you getting hurt. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Your heart made its own decisions and you had fallen for her, even if you had only known her for a few months.

“Before you go.”

You gave her a quick and gentle kiss on the cheek. You wished you could show how you felt in other ways but anything else would've hurt more. Your eyes had welled up with tears throughout your conversation but you had only just then realized it. You wiped your face as you began to back away from Mizu, giving her space to leave.

As you moved away from her though she had gently grabbed your arm forcing you to stay put. She hesitated for a moment, thinking through whatever she was about to do as you stared at her. She then pulled you back towards her, very carefully planting a kiss on your lips, one that you had both been waiting to share for quite some time. It was your last chance, so clearly Mizu wanted to make it count.

You didn’t want the kiss to end because you knew once it did that meant she would finally have to leave. Much to both of your dismay though, that time came sooner than either of you would have liked. You both released from the kiss, staring at one another before Mizu backed away from you, letting go of your arm in the process. She made her way towards your door, grabbing her sword and stood in the doorway, hesitating yet again before she fully committed to leaving.

“Mizu?” You called out to her. She paused, turning her head to look at you over her shoulder.

“You know if you ever want to come back… you can.” You offered. She gave you a very rare smile before she uttered the words,

“Thank you.”

And those were the last words she said before walking off.

As she left though, it was only then had you realized that in the place of her usual white wrapping around her neck, sat the bandana you had given her several months before.

#x reader #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eyed samurai #blue eye samurai #ringo blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eyes #x gn reader #xreader fanfic #fanficion #fanfiction #fanfics #unoislazy #bes #mizu #mizubrainrot #i love my wife #mizufics

[eyelessfaces]

apology

miguel o'hara x reader

summary: miguel hasn’t come home in weeks. he tries to make it up to you.

warnings: smut, porn with minimal plot, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, a bit of angst, we're a bit mean to miguel because we're mad at him

tags: f!reader, sub!miguel (hell yeah), we make miguel suffer (sorry bb)

word count: 1k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

Miguel hadn’t come home in weeks, and it was with a guilty pinched smile and a bouquet of flowers that he reappeared at your doorstep. 

When you first saw him, you wanted to take the flowers from his hands and slam the door right in front of his face, but you knew that he certainly had a good reason and excuse to have done what he had done. 

He didn’t tell you much about it; you figured it was more about his spiderman activities than about his work, because he rarely told you about the spider stuff, wanting to keep you as far away from it as possible. You were sometimes mad that he wouldn’t tell you anything about it, but he kept on insisting that it was for your own good, that you shouldn’t get too close to it. He had already paid the price.

He apologized, apologized and apologized about not coming back for so long. You told him that it was fine, but he knew it wasn’t, he knew that you were hurt, he saw how you wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

He didn’t need this; he didn’t need you to hate him, it might be even worse and scarier than every universe collapsing.

He owed you an apology, a real one. He didn’t know if what he had in mind could work, but he could try.

Which was why he found himself with your thighs caging his face, your hand tightly gripping his hair. He sometimes got carried away, kissing and biting at your thighs while he repeated that he was sorry, over and over again, before you tugged his hair into diving back into eating you out like it was the last time he did it.

If you repressed your moans to let him know that you were still mad, he was doing all the contrary. He deeply enjoyed this, and he wanted you to know it. If he could spend the whole night between your thighs he would, and even though his crotch ached for some friction, all that mattered to him at that moment was you and your pleasure.

He mouthed at your pussy as if he was making out with it; licking long, slow and languid stripes through your folds, gathering your slick over his tongue as if it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. 

He pulled away to kiss the inside of your thighs, and just as you were about to scold him for it, he left a kiss at your clit before gently curling the tip of his tongue around it, making a strangled moan leave your mouth. 

He smugly smiled at your reaction but quickly got back to work; he actually thought of something better, and pulled away, making you groan at the loss.

He laid down on the bed and pulled you on top of him so you could straddle his chest, and you huffed out a laugh when he started to beg you to sit on his face, pulling your hips higher up his body so you could use him as you wished.

“Use me baby, I deserve to be used”

And it was a good idea, you had to admit. You could control it all now, grinding onto his face as if he was just an object. His nails were digging into the meat of your thighs, marking crescents into your skin as he hummed against you, his broad hands then shifting to your ass so he could knead the tender flesh, pushing you even lower onto his face. You even wondered how he could breathe, but your concern quickly flew out the window when his nose rubbed against your clit. 

Your hand had unconsciously fisted onto his hair to hold him in place as you rocked yourself harder against his tongue, fucking it until you lost your mind; you pulled away and straddled his chest just as you were about to come, leaving him confused and wondering as he caught his breath, the lower half of his face drenched in your juices. 

He licked his lips clean, looking up at you with half lidded eyes, so fucking pussy drunk. He sounded so gone when he asked you why you pulled away, but he looked even more gone as you got rid of his pants and explained that you wanted to come on his cock but that he wouldn’t get to come.

He let out a small whimper when you lowered yourself onto him, his hands finding and gripping your hips in a bruising hold. 

You bounced on him at an unforgiving pace; his head was thrown back into the pillows as he let out small moans, trying to contain himself.

You leaned onto him and kissed his neck, softly biting at the warm skin before repositioning and putting your hands over his chest, his muscles softly twitching under your touch, your soft moans driving him even crazier.

You were close, you knew it, and so did he. He watched down to where you were connected and bit on his bottom lip as he guided your hips up and down, your rocking more languid as you tried to reach your peak. You felt him twitch inside of you and reminded him not to come, and he responded with a small wail as he nodded, still biting hard on his bottom lip, the poor skin almost bleeding.

You came with a silent cry, his hips snapping up into you and burying himself even deeper as he worked you through your orgasm, focusing on every muscle of his body to try not to come as you rode out your high on his lap, his own about to tip over the edge. 

He whined as you climbed off of him, his orgasm stolen away from him, just as you had promised. 

You watched with awe and a sly smirk as his body stiffened, his cock twitching desperately in front of you, his hands pawing at the bedsheets in frustration. 

You smirked proudly, putting a hand at his cheek before kissing his lips then his forehead, his eyes shutting tight.

"Look at you baby" you cooed, looking down at your hand softly stroking his thigh to tease him even more, so damn close to where he needed you. “Maybe I'm a bit less mad at you.”

—

please give me feedback if you liked this, I appreciate every single comment and they motivate me to keep going!!

masterlist | taglist | ao3

spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove @ilovemiguelohara @pandq707 @gobblegluckgluckgod @weasleybuns @midgardian-witch @daemontqrg

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #oscar isaac

[barefoothighlander]

never going back again - 01

summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup

simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), violence, depiction of wounds, blood loss, mention of scars

next part masterlist

a/n: this poll won so here's the first part, enjoy

Ghost pulls himself from the rubble, the sound of the blast ringing in his ear, his whole body hurts but he can’t pinpoint where, he brings his hand to feel over his chest before looking down, definitely bleeding, he struggles pulling his weight out from under the rocks.

“All teams this is Ghost how copy?”

It’s radio silence,

“All teams this- ah” He winces as his headphones crackle, a small spark hitting his ear. They must’ve broken in the impact, his body blown back at least 15 feet from the blast, he manages to pull himself from the debris, wincing every time he stretches his stomach. He stands, moving to grab his side arm as his vision blurs, he looks down, a pool of red forming where he had just laid. He needed extraction, and fast, he looks around, clocking his location before advancing through alleys trying to make his way to the safe house.

He manages makes it out of the city in under an hour, stumbling over rocks and pot holes, his vision straining due to the loss of blood. In the distance he makes out a small cottage, assuming that was the safe house he limps towards it. He scans the area trying to find any sign of life before making his way to the door, knocking in a pattern that would signal it was him. He’s braced against the doorframe, his head hung in front of him as the door opens, he makes out a woman’s figure and a small gasp before collapsing on the deck and passing out.

You stand in your door way utterly shocked, the last thing you expected was a giant man wearing a skull mask, covered in blood, collapsing on your doorstep. You’re taken in a blind panic, your fight or flight in full force, you kneel down, your fingers pressing against his neck, he’s breathing and you can feel his heartbeat, you glance behind him for any sign of who might’ve done this, there’s no one there. You lock your arms under his shoulders, struggling to drag him into the house, knowing there was no way you could lift him to the couch so you let him lie in the walkway.

You rush to your bathroom to grab your first aid kit, kneeling back at his side trying to locate the origin of his bleeding, he’s completely passed out but you still mutter a quiet sorry as your hands pull his shirt up, his chest covered in the thick red fluid, you grab gauze to put pressure on the wound, its lengthy, not from a bullet.

You curse yourself, trying to remember the order of things, you breath deeply pouring some alcohol into his cut, his eyes strike open as he tries to sit up in panic.

“I’m sorry! I had to clean it, just, just lay back”

He’s moving around, glancing at his surroundings till his eyes fall to your form, your clothes stained with his blood as your gentle hands press on his abdomen.

“I’ll be quick”

He stares at you, then nods slowly.

“Okay”

Your hands make quick work of putting in a few stitches, noticing that he barely winces from the pain and wiping away any excess dirt or blood from the cut.

“Are- are there any more cuts?” Your eyes scan over his form,

“I don’t know”

You nod, “Can I check”

You wait for his permission, he undoes his vest allowing you further access to his chest, you push his shirt up further, his form is littered with scars, some old and white, some new and pink.

“It doesn’t look like there’s any more on your chest” You let out a sigh of relief

He blinks slowly,

“But um, you lost a lot of blood and I don’t have any antibiotics, I can call for some help”

“No, no cops”

“What about doctors”

“No, no one can know I’m here”

“Are you in danger?”

He huffs a laugh, he’s drenched in blood and wearing a skull and you think he’s in danger.

“I’ll be fine, I have to go” He tries to stand up but stumbles, your hands moving to try and hold him up as your palms dig into his flesh.

“You can’t walk”

“I can manage”

“Please just, you can rest here” You look up at him with worry in your eyes

He looks to you

“I live alone, there’s really not much for miles around, no one will find you”

“You really shouldn’t tell those things to a stranger”

“If you wanted to hurt me you would’ve” You huff a small laugh, eyes staring up at him, “Just rest a little”

He glances around the space, it’s cozy, feminine but cozy, lots of blankets and small lights.

“Do you have tea?”

A small smile forms on your lips, “I do”

You help him to the bathroom so he can rinse off, leaving the door open a crack in case he needs help with anything before you go to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and grabbing two mugs. You hear the shower turn off a few minutes later, turning your attention to the doorway and your throat dries. He’s stood arm braced against the frame, his skin glowing with droplets of water, his modesty only covered by a small towel.

“Any chance you have clothes I can borrow?”

You’re staring at him,

“Oi”

You blink your eyes at him, pulling back from your thoughts, “Yeah sorry, um, I’ll grab them” You run into your bedroom, rummaging through your drawers for anything that would fit him.

“Here these are my boyfriends, he’s smaller than you but they should fit” You hand him a pile of clothes,

“Boyfriend? I thought you lived alone”

“Ex boyfriend” You stutter, “Just never came back for his stuff”

“His loss”

You laugh lightly, allowing him the space to move back into the washroom to change, you lean against the wall,

“So what’s your name?”

He hesitates for a moment,

“Simon”

You whisper the name to yourself, the letters dancing on your tongue as he steps out,

“Not bad” You say glancing over his now clothed form

“Yeah, cheers”

You smile, moving to the kitchen to hand him a mug of tea,

“You’re very kind, I won’t be here long”

“It’s alright, company’s nice”

“Pretty good with stitches, you get a lot of bloody men on your doorstep?”

You laugh, “No just, know how to sew I guess”

Simon nods, sipping his tea, not waiting for it to cool,

“Any chance you can tell me how you stumbled to my door?”

“Um, got lost”

“Ah I see, lost” You make air quotes with your fingers,

He sets down his mug, “Lucky is more like”

“Lucky?”

“Could’ve accidentally stumbled somewhere worse”

“And by worse you mean..” You squint your eyes, he tilts his head slightly staring back at you, “You’re very secretive Simon, has anyone ever told you that”

“Never”

You smile at his words, fighting back a small laugh as you continue to drink your tea, paying attention to the way he squirms in his seat when he hurts his wound.

“You can stay here if you need, really”

“I don’t mean to put you out”

“It’s fine, get your bearings and you can head out whenever your assassin group needs you”

“Assassin group?” He’s amused by your assumption,

“Just, trying to figure you out, hoping I was close”

“Close enough”

“And on that note, the couch is all yours” You stand from your seat, placing your mug in the sink before moving to leave the kitchen, “You know where the bathroom is, everything else is pretty easy to find so, I’m just behind those doors” You point toward the sliding door of your bedroom.

“Thank you, I’ll be out by morning”

“Right” You nod, turning back to him quickly, “If you find a small cat, that’s Goliath, don’t mind him”

“You named your cat Goliath?”

You furrow your brows, “Thought it was funny, goodnight Simon” You nod to him and walk towards your room, sliding the door shut before getting ready for bed.

Ghost makes his way toward the couch, keeping an ear out for any noises outside the house, still nervous he could've been followed, he feels strangely safe within the walls of your cottage, he knows he shouldn't. He doesn't know you, you don't know him, and yet you helped him, gave him shelter and stitched his wounds, he'd never known such a simple kindness before, always seeing the worst in people but you were different, like a glowing ray of sun in his dark mind.

It doesn't take him long to fall asleep, another anomaly considering it usually took him hours of tossing and turning to finally sleep, eventually he'd blame it on his injury and the fact that the couch was insanely comfortable compared to his issued cot.

He woke in a full panic the next morning, darting his gaze around his surroundings, remembering where he was and who he was with, it took him a moment to settle his heartbeat as a clatter came from the kitchen, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, knowing he was relatively safe.

You peak your head around the corner, cringing at the amount of noise you were making, "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you"

"S'alright, should've been up hours ago anyway"

"You hungry?"

"No, I should be going anyway" The smell from the kitchen wafts through the living room, grabbing his attention

"You sure? I made too much anyway"

He winces as he pushes himself from the couch, "Why not"

Your smile lights up your face making Ghost pull his gaze from you nervously, his eyes moving toward the floor as he makes his way toward you.

"Sit"

He obeys your command, watching you point toward a chair with a spatula in your hand, chuckling to himself at the sight of you, apron-clad some flour swiped across the front.

"Do you want syrup?"

"Please" Truth be told the man had a major sweet tooth, most people would assume he drank black coffee and ate bitter chocolate but in reality he loved sugar more than anything, always giving into his urges.

You place a plate of pancakes in front of him,

"Wait" You stop him from eating for a second, leaning forward to draw a small smiley face on top with whipped cream, giggling as he tilts his head at you.

"Thanks" He waits for a few moments, giving you time to sit down with your own plate before picking up his fork, he holds the utensil in his hand, staring down at the food.

"You aren't hungry?"

"I am, it's just, my mum used to make pancakes like this" His tone is light as he leans back in his chair slightly, thinking about his family.

"She sounds nice"

"She was"

Your smile drops, "Oh, I'm sorry"

"For what?"

"You said was"

He didn't even realize, so used to internally recalling memories to choose his words differently, shaking his head lightly at you, "Thank you". You can't see his face behind his balaclava, but his gaze softens letting you know he took no offence to your statement, giving him a tight-lipped smile before digging into your food.

You finish a few pancakes before sanding from the table, Ghost's eyes watching as you move around the kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out a small bowl, filling it with food, shaking the dish to catch the attention of your cat.

"He comes and goes, usually he's back for breakfast, I swear he'd do anything for some food" You joke, sitting back down in front of him, "Any progress on your ear thing?"

Ghost swallows his food, shaking his head towards you, "Unfortunately no, I need to replace one of the pieces to get it to work, not sure where I'll find one"

"There's a bunch of tech stuff in one of the drawers in the other room, I don't know what any of it does but you're welcome to look through"

"That could help, thanks"

You reach for his empty plate but his hand pushes yours away, your fingers tensing at the contact, "I'll clean, least I could do", he stands from the table, collecting the dishes and placing them in the sink. You blush slightly at the gesture, tapping your fingers against the table a few times before standing.

"I have some chores to do but I'd like to check your stitches after"

"I'm sure they're fine"

You sigh lightly, leaning against the counter next to him as he rolls his sleeves up, your eyes drifting toward the ink on his forearm as the muscles tense, "Just, let me check them" You look up at him through your lashes and his mind blanks for a moment, lost in your eyes, the way you look at him like he's a person, not a monster, completely unfazed by his outward appearance.

He says nothing, just nods lightly, turning back to the task at hand, you smile to yourself at your small victory,

"I'll just be outside, don't burn anything down"

"I'll do my best" He watches you breeze through the front door, huffing a deep breath once you closed the door, suddenly aware of his surroundings and what he was doing, washing dishes in a stranger's cottage, he looked so out of place in the house, everything was soft and warm while he was dark and rigid.

He watches you through the window, you float around the property moving around the small garden outside, tucking your hair behind your ear as you kneel beside a bush of vegetables, carefully picking them one by one, tossing them into a small basket and continuing.

"Shit" He tugs his hands from the sink, the now scolding water burning him, he must've zoned out cause the steam from the sink was now filling the room, wiping his hands on a towel before turning the taps off, rubbing his skin slightly to soothe them. His attention is turned to the small black mass leaping onto the counter,

"You must be Goliath"

The cat just stares back at him with its large eyes, meowing loudly at the sight of the stranger, Ghost presses his hand to his chest, "I'm Simon"

Goliath meows, moving toward his bowl of food, leaning down to eat.

"He won't bite"

Ghost turns his head toward the front door, you're leaning against the frame, a basket of produce on your hip, "You can pet him, he won't bite"

"I'm not really an animal person"

"I don't believe that"

"Why not"

"Just doesn't seem true" You place your basket on the table, moving towards Goliath, stroking his fur lightly as he purrs, "He loves it, go ahead" You step back, urging Simon to pet him.

He raises an apprehensive hand, lightly tracing his fingers down the case back,

"You can use a little more pressure"

He looks to you, "I don't want to hurt him"

You smile, "You won't"

Simon flattens his hand, running his palm over Goliath, smiling slightly when the cat purrs in response to his touch,

"He likes you"

"How can you tell"

"He bites people he doesn't" You bite your lower lip to conceal your laughter, Simon's eyes widen as they look at you, pulling his hand back from the cat as you giggle.

"You're lying"

"Guess we'll never know" You nudge your head toward the living room, urging him to follow. He sits on the couch, shuffling a little as you sit next to him, he can feel the heat from your skin, you're close enough that he can smell your shampoo,

"May I?"

He nods as your hands gently tug at the bottom of his shirt, he leans back to help you, your eyes scanning over his form,

"How's it look" His eyes watch you

"Good, not my best work but, you'll heal"

You turn to face him, your fingers still feather-light on his skin, "Can I ask a question?"

"You can, I might not answer it though"

"The scars"

"From my job"

"Do you get stabbed for a living?"

"Something like that" His hand covers yours, dwarfing them as he pulls his shirt back down, "Nothing to worry about"

"They look serious"

He cans esne the worry in your tone, changing his own to reassure you "I'm fine love"

You nod, staying quiet for a moment before realizing that his hands are still holding yours, you move to tug them away but he grips them, holding them close as his eyes linger on you. He scans your face for a second before releasing your hands, shifting his gaze away, suddenly nervous as his hands move into his pockets.

"The drawer is just there"

"Huh?"

"The um, the drawer with the tech stuff, it's just there" You point gently toward the stack of cabinets on the other side of the room, he nods in understanding, crossing the room to search. His fingers sift through the wires, pulling some out to inspect them, tossing others to the back, his eyes land on the exact one he needs, staring at the wire.

"Find anything that works?"

He thinks for a moment, his fingers tossing all the wires back into the drawer, "Not in here"

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #cod mw x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #mw2022 #simon ghost riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost fluff #cod mwii #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x reader

[cheddahz]

air france // collapsing at your doorstep

#air france #collapsing at your doorstep #music #2008 #electronic #pop #no way down

[rboooks]

DC X DP fic idea: Congratulations! It's Triplets!

Jason Todd can't remember half the crazy shit he did when he returned from the dead. There were a few years when his memory gaps were so significant lost he honestly forgot what year it was.

So he's not surprised he did some dumb shit where he was less weapon and more power-hungry teen.

He doesn't remember Jazz Fenton that well, but he does remember waking up next to her, making her breakfast as a thank-you for the fun night, and slipping away before she could ask too many questions. Logically he knows that leaving before she woke up was a bit of a asshole move but he hadn't cared back then.

He had thought he would never see her again.

Imagine his surprise when she enters a youth space program WE is running five years later. By this point, he had calmed most of his pit rage and had reconnected with his family. Bruce had even legally made him alive again so he's there as Brucie's second oldest.

Tim had practically shoved him as one of the heads of the program since Jason had rapidly developed the image of being the most Charity drive Wayne.

The point was to help city kids go on clear sky trips and co-work with NASA to help children who love the stars get closer to them.

Jason knew that Jazz, a woman of twenty-three, would have no reason to be present since the program was for kids ages four to twelve.

But the three dark hair blue, eye triplets that were dragging her around the booths indeed did.

By the looks of the triplets, they were five to six-year Olds.

Jason also noticed another thing about them. They were exact copies of himself and five years ago was the last time he saw Jazz before slipping away.

It wasn't possible right?

Trying not to bring attention to himself, he followed them through the event, noting every little gesture the children made. With each passing second he saw more and more of himself in them. Once the lights were dimmed for the crew to project an exploding star on the walls and ceiling, he could creep close enough and steals three hair samples.

Later he would test the DNA against his own and find himself staring at the results with slight horror.

He's a father to triplets and left their mother alone to raise them on her own. Jason needed to fix this as soon as he could.

(Danny, Dani and Dan get de-age after a misguided attempt to take the throne from Danny by a ghost whose extraordinary power was to revert people into a weaker stage and attack them. Luckily even as small children, they were able to defeat her. Unfortunately, they would have to regrow the human way to return to their ages.

Clockwork offers them a different dimension for them to age in, explaining it run crazy slow compared to thier own. One year in the other world would be a week back home.

They talk to Jazz who agrees to take emergency leave from work after faking a terrible accident with her brother, and she hopes over to Earth-slightly-to-the-left to find a house suitable for re-raising her siblings. There she realizes this is her chance to enjoy her youth too.

She has her first one-night stand.

She doesn't tell them when they hope over, and all of them go about life as simply as they can in a city as dangerous as Gotham.

They find out later that there is even a slight version of their family here though it's primarily due to someone on their dads' side of the family messing up the family tree by marrying someone different than their great-grandfather

Instead of Fentons, the versions of their family name is, Evans. Crazy.

Even more Crazy is that they return home after a week-long camping trip through a NASA-based program to find Bruce Wayne at their doorstep, a team of lawyers behind him, and Jason Todd holding flowers next to him.

He thinks he's the father of the three because that's what the DNA pulls since it's a version of them and when Jazz is so worried about collapsing the timeline and getting on Clockworks bad side she plays along.

She later finds out from a very calm Danny that Jason is not related to them. It's just that their comeback from the dead rearranged all three of their DNAs, so Jason was merely matching there. Jazz testing herself against Jason proves this to be true.

Dan and Dani? They just wanted a rich dad who showered them with gifts in an attempt to make up for missing six years of their lives.

Danny just wants Jazz to admit she's in love with Jason.

Abd Jazz? Well, she just wants to be a good guardian for them and hopes she can pretend to be Jason's baby mamma until they can hope back home.)

#dc x dp crossover #Jazz/Jason #misunderstandings #de-ages #Jazz freaks for a sec that she pulled a luke Skywalker #buts shes good #Jason is excited to be a dad

[hyunsvngs]

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 - lee minho x gn!afab reader

wc: 6.1k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: alcohol, normalisation of getting very wasted, smut (specific smut warnings under the cut, again minors please do not interact!)

synopsis: the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.

a/n: part one of the fratboy series. fratboy lee minho has now taken over my entire brain, my heart, and also my life, so i hope you all enjoy. PLEASE feel free to stop by our askbox to chat to me abt him because truly, i am obsessed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: swearing, dirty talk, sexy mean minho, no seriously he’s mean, thigh riding, nipple play, begging, dumbification, degradation, penetration with a finger & dick simultaneously, talks about sex slaves (maybe only slightly serious), lovely aftercare

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When the opening notes of Half Moon by Dean met your ears, you couldn’t help but groan. You loved the song, but it signalled an incoming call that you’d been expecting all day. You flipped your phone over, confirming your suspicions; Jisung’s squishy cheeks flashed on your screen as his contact icon showed up.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered the call, despite knowing very well what he wanted. 

At the beginning of the semester, your best friends had joined a fraternity, Sigma Kappa Zeta. It was an absolute dream - on paper at least. You didn’t have to commit to the endless fraternity obligations, which are often ridiculous and sometimes downright dangerous; although you still had regular invites to the blowout parties, owing to your connections to Felix and Jisung. You’d attended a few of these parties and enjoyed them thoroughly. Being pretty meant you got free booze, and what could be better than getting wasted for free, with two of your favourite people? While ogling their endless hoard of stupidly attractive friends, of course.

Your taste in men could be summarised as… unfortunate. You had an affinity for frat boys, the bigger and stupider the better. Muscular guys, with stupid goofy grins and sleeveless tees, bulging biceps and empty heads. Something about them really got you going, and it frustrated you to no end. But you loved to indulge yourself, and Felix and Jisung knew this all too well. And so, they were left baffled when you very quickly stopped attending these parties. Baffled, disappointed, and worst of all, persistent.

“Hey, angel,” Felix’s voice rang out from your speaker.

“You aren’t Jisung,” you stated.

“Very observant,” he responded, leading you to roll your eyes. You didn't even bother to question why he was calling you from Jisung’s phone. “Anyways, I assume you’ll be in attendance tonight?”

You snorted. “Obviously not.” 

“Y/N!” Felix’s deep voice gave way to a drawn-out whine. “Why not?”

“Cause I don’t want to spend time in your disgusting frat house,” you huffed. 

“Not even for me?” he pleaded with you.

“This isn’t working. You can’t guilt-trip me when I can’t actually see your stupid adorable face,” you pointed out.

“Fine, I’ll turn my camera on-”

“No. Look, why don’t you and Ji come drink with me in my dorm? Like the good ol’ days?” you suggested. Good ol’ days referring to a few months ago, before they’d joined the fraternity.

Felix paused for a few moments. “Fine. Maybe. Only because we miss you!”

“Come over then. See you soon!” You hung up before he could argue any more - you all knew you’d won. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Just moments after Jisung and Felix showed up at your door, you began to consider the possibility that maybe you didn’t win after all.

“Y/N!” Jisung cried, before proceeding to push past you and collapse onto your bed. “Why do you never hang out with us any more?!” 

You turned to Felix. “What have you brought to my doorstep?”

Felix shrugged. “He chugged like, three beers before we even left.”

"I guess we'd better catch up then." 

It wasn't long before you were all feeling merry, though it would be amiss to say you'd caught up with Jisung, given that he often seemed intoxicated even when he was sober.

"I miss you guys, too!" you insisted, hushing the boys' griping. And you really did miss them. Since classes had ended, and people had limited obligations, the frat seemed like a 24/7 party house at the moment, which meant you hardly ever saw them. "I just… these frat parties, it's not really my scene."

The look Felix sent you told you that he didn't buy it, not one bit. The look Jisung sent you, on the other hand, told you that he was currently so drunk that he had a very tenuous grasp on reality, and was just happy to be involved.

"I've seen you eye up at least three guys at the frat. Not your scene? Nothing has ever been more your scene," Felix said, his tone accusatory. "I know it's nothing to do with us. So spill. Why are you avoiding the frat?"

Jisung had wandered off to the other side of your room, where he seemed to be making a concoction of different beverages. He didn't seem to be making a mess, so you thought it best to leave him while he was quiet.

You huffed. "Fine. One of your stupid little frat bro's is driving me insane. But I won't say who!" you added hastily.

Felix's eyes glinted. "Driving you insane? In what way? Like, someone's pissed you off? Or they're making you insanely horny and you don't know how to handle it."

You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "You know me too well, Lix."

Felix laughed gleefully. "Changbin?"

"Don't start guessing! I'm not gonna tell you!"

"Chan?"

"No!"

Felix paused, thinking hard. "It's Minho."

"It’s not Minho!"

He cackled. "You're an open book, it's Minho! You're horny for Minho!"

You let out a weak whimper in protest. "I just… God, nobody's ever affected me like this before, Lix! I don't even wanna be around him 'cause I know I'll say something stupid. Or maybe just start drooling on him."

Felix shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you. He is a gorgeous guy."

"Understatement of the century," you scoffed. "If I had to choose between solving world hunger and sucking his dick, I'd choose his dick. A thousand times."

Felix, in that beautiful drunken phase where everything was utterly hilarious, was clutching his stomach, in complete stitches on your floor.

"I'm not even joking, Lix! I'd devote the rest of my life to being his sex slave. He wouldn't even need to feed me, I'll survive off his cum if I have to!"

Felix wiped a tear from his eye. "Stop, stop. You're killing me." He turned to Jisung, who was still apparently playing potions with various different drinks.

"And that," Jisung said to no one in particular, "Is how you make a Hanji Supreme."

"What the fuck are you doing, Ji? Are you vlogging over there? Get your ass over here and listen to what Y/N has to say about Lee Minho."

"Okay, bye!" Jisung said, still seemingly speaking to thin air. He turned to you, eyebrows raised. "Minho? Y/N has the hots for Minho?"

"Unfortunately," you confirmed.

"We could probably set you up with him," Jisung proposed, a dastardly grin on his face.

"No," you quickly denied. "Never. Under no circumstances do you ever mention my name in Minho's presence. Got it?"

Jisung pouted. "But then your dreams are never gonna come true!"

You chewed on your lip. "I feel like a stuttering mess whenever I even think about him. I can't imagine what'd happen if I actually spoke to him."

"Wait, you've never spoken to him?" Felix clarified, and you shook your head. He smirked. "You were saying some pretty vulgar stuff, considering he's practically a stranger."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a creep and a perv. That's why he can never find out about this. Seriously," you said sternly, directing this last part at Jisung. He wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets. 

Felix looked him up and down. "I don't think he's even going to remember this tomorrow, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah," you agreed. "He seems like he's done for the night." The boy was lying flat on his back, the brim of his beanie pulled over his eyes. His phone was buzzing away on his chest, notification tone pinging every few seconds.

Felix sighed. "I just hope he doesn't get one of those second winds."

“Jisung, honey, is someone trying to get hold of you?” you asked, the chiming of his phone growing irritating. You figured he’d texted one of his many booty calls and then instantly forgotten about it.

“Huh?” he asked, clearly not really listening.

Felix’s phone began to buzz on the floor. “Someone’s trying to get hold of me.” He brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, what’s up? He's - he's what?" Felix covered his other ear. "It's really loud over there, did you say he's on the table? Christ - okay, okay, we'll be right over." 

"What was that?" you asked. "Is everything okay?" 

Felix sighed. "Hyunjin's partying a little too hard. Seungmin can't deal with him alone. C'mon, we gotta go wrangle him."

"We just went over this - I'm not stepping foot in Minho's territory, not even for a second," you said adamantly. 

"Relax, he's partying with Theta Chi Theta tonight," Jisung slurred happily, sitting upright and fixing his beanie. "C'mon, Y/N, come party with us!"

Felix looked to you pleadingly. "I can't deal with drunk Jisung and drunk Hyunjin without you. Please."

Fuck. Felix knew you could never say no to his puppy-dog eyes.

"Fine."

Even with the knowledge that Minho was preoccupied somewhere else, you still felt a little wary as you stepped into the house. It did occur to you that you could be a little too terrified of this man, but you knew all too well that both your horniness and your stupidity were utterly limitless, which was always a recipe for disaster.

You heard Hyunjin before you saw him - "Why can't I get naked, though? It's so hot in here!" 

You snickered. He was still on the table, although he looked a little wobbly so you doubted it'd be too long until he came tumbling down. Jisung wandered off, probably up to no good, whilst you and Felix hurried over.

Seungmin breathed a visible sigh of relief when he saw you. "So glad you're here. Okay, I'm off duty. Good luck." He had vanished within seconds. 

Hyunjin waved excitedly when he caught sight of you both. "Hi Lix! Hi Lix's pretty friend!" 

You laughed at his drunken boldness. "It's Y/N," you corrected him.

"I know." He grinned down at you from the table, eyes disappearing into crescents. "You're brave, too," he crooned.

"Brave?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"If I was you, I probably wouldn't show my face around here until the end of the semester, at least," he went on.

Felix narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What are you talking about?"

Hyunjin stared at Felix for a moment. Then switched his gaze to you. Then back to Felix. Before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"Oh my god, please sit down before you fall and crack your damn skull," Felix pleaded with the boy.

"Yeah, and more importantly, explain yourself," you added. 

Hyunjin sat obediently, pulling out his phone and handing it to Felix. 

"Oh fuck," Felix breathed. "I have the group chat muted right now." 

"The group chat?" you enquired anxiously. "Please tell me what's going on." Your paranoia was getting the best of you, and while you stood waiting for someone to fucking explain, you were slowly convincing yourself that you'd stolen Felix's phone and confessed your attraction to Minho in the most crass and unrefined terms.

This wasn't too far from the truth.

Felix opened up a video, skipping towards the end. You noticed Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor of your dorm room, chattering away about various beverages. More prominently, however, you heard your own voice, from the other side of the room. 

“I’ll survive off his cum if I have to!”

Your heart plummets to the ground as the memory comes rushing back. Fuck. 

You grab Felix’s arm, holding on for dear life. “Tell me this isn’t happening. Tell me Jisung only sent that to Hyunjin and no one else.”

Felix handed the phone back to Hyunjin and placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. “Look, it’s going to be okay. People say stupid shit like this all the time-”

“Oh look, Minho’s read the messages!” Hyunjin calls out.

You put a hand over your mouth. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“He’s typing!”

“No!” you wailed.

Hyunjin turned his phone around once more. You peered at the screen in turmoil as three dastardly little letters popped up.

lol

"Oh, Y/N, you're so lucky he's not here tonight," Felix said, sounding relieved. Distantly, you felt a shred of relief too, although that was nothing compared to the complete and utter dread you were experiencing. Oh, the consequences of your own drunken, horny actions. Was there anything worse?

"Oh," Felix murmured, pulling his buzzing phone out of his pocket. "Oh." 

"What?" you asked.

"He's calling me." 

You called out "Don't answer it!" just as Hyunjin yelled "Answer it!"

Felix accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Oh my god, I'm scared. Hold my hand." You scrambled for Hyunjin, who grasped your hand in his before giggling.

"Your hands are soft," he commented, apparently having forgotten the Minho debacle already. You swiftly hushed him.

Felix also raised a finger to his lips in a shh motion, before putting the call on speakerphone.

"Are you at the house? Is Y/N with you?" Minho’s voice came through the speaker.

Felix paused, looking at you with wide eyes. You shook your head furiously. 

"Uh, yeah," he answered, the traitor. You fought hard not to scream.

"Can you pass a message across?" you heard Minho ask.

"Sure."

"I'm on my way." The line clicked dead.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. “LEE FELIX WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM I'M HERE?" 

"I DON'T KNOW, I PANICKED!" he shrieked back, sounding equally as alarmed as you.

“This is crazy,” Hyunjin commented with a dazed grin.

“You are far too drunk to understand the absolute catastrophe I’m in right now!” you accused him. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I need to go - immediately.”

“Not so fast.”

You spun around in complete and utter horror, terrified that Minho had somehow materialised from his other party right back to the frat. Only to find Seungmin standing before you - just slightly less threatening.

“Jisung is far too drunk, and he’s begging for you,” he explained.

“God, what is in the air tonight?” you observed. “Do you guys need to do a fraternity-wide detox?”

Seungmin snorted. “Like that’s ever gonna happen. Go on, Jisung’s in his room.” 

God fucking damn it, why were you such a good friend? You tore up the stairs, bee-lining for Jisung’s room, fully intending on hiding in his bedroom for the rest of the night. Minho wouldn’t find you in there if you locked the door, right? You were even willing to put up with your best friend’s snoring.

"Hey, Sungie," you said gently as you walked into his room. You found him curled on his bed, still dressed in his hoodie, cargos and beanie. 

"Y/N… You're finally here…" he mumbled.

"You sound sleepy. Is it bedtime?" you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. You tugged the beanie off his head, and ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp gently. 

"Bedtime? Hmm… No… It's still party time for now." His words were slurred, and you knew he was just minutes from dozing off - seconds, maybe. 

"Sure," you said, as it was typically better to just agree with him. "You wanna get your pyjamas on? We can have a pyjama party."

"No. I'm comfy like this." You seriously doubted it, but didn't have it in you to battle him right now.

Sure enough, he was snoring less than thirty seconds later. You wondered if it was worth shoving him a bit, to climb in bed beside him, or whether it'd be best to just run home. But you didn't know how far away Minho was, and the thought of bumping into him was too much to bear. 

You deliberated for a few moments, but Jisung's snoring was driving you insane, and you quickly realised that you weren't equipped to deal with it tonight.

You pulled out your phone, opening Felix's contact.

[10:44pm] You: lixie do u have minho's location?

[10:44pm] You: lix please please please

[10:44pm] You: felix pls i need to know how far he is

You sat on the edge of Jisung's bed, leg bouncing with nerves. Why was Felix always muting his damn notifications?

[10:48pm] Lix: idk sorry :( i think his party was nearby though

[10:48pm] Lix: look, just run to my room

[10:49pm] Lix: you'll be safe there

You weighed up your options. 

Option one: stay here with Jisung, awake all night owing to his snoring and his complete domineering of 90% of the bed space, stressing about Lee fucking Minho.

Option two: run out of the frat house, and all the way home to safety, but risk bumping into Minho on your way out.

Option three: run down the hall to Felix's room, where you can vent to him all night and then eventually fall asleep with his sunshine cuddles.

It could only be option three.

His room was just down the hall, you reasoned. You would yank open the door, tear down the hallway, and land safely in Felix's bedroom. It would be easy. 

You took a deep breath, before pulling open the door and preparing to run.

“Ah. Look who it is.” 

Shit.

Minho stood in the hall with an unreadable expression. His eyes scanned your whole frame, and he took his time with his scalding gaze. His eyes crawled all the way up your legs, lingering up your thighs. Slowly moving from your hips, to your waist, to your chest. Before landing on your eyes - that’s where his inspection burned the most. You couldn’t even breathe. 

“All bark and no bite, hm?” 

“I… I just…” you stammered weakly.

He continued to stare at you, waiting for you to finish. “You just?”

“I’m sorry!” you managed, your voice barely above a squeak.

He folded his arms across his chest, looking amused. “What, pray tell, are you sorry for? For blabbing about my dick to anyone who’ll listen? Manners mean everything, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked me nicely. There was no reason to bring everyone into our business, now, was there?”

You simply blinked at him. You weren’t capable of anything more. He was clearly waiting for a response, though, smirking over at you expectantly. “W-What?” you managed eventually.

“Or are you apologising for your dirty mouth? Honestly, I didn’t expect that from you. You look so sweet, who knew you could be so… improper.”

You felt dizzy. “Improper?”

He pouted at you, and it was dripping with condescension. “Can you speak, darling? Or are you so cock-hungry you can’t manage more than a one-word answer?”

“I-I just don’t know what to say, is all,” you whispered.

“Just give me a yes or a no,” he invited you, holding his hand out for you to take.

You gave him a slow nod, placing your hand in his shakily. He smiled as if to say ‘right answer,’ before opening the door right next to Jisung's, and leading you into his bedroom. The room was remarkably neat and tidy, and you would’ve been impressed if you could even begin to process it. All of your mental energy was focused on not combusting - or coming on the spot. 

He allowed you to step into the room before closing the door behind you. You were then quickly pushed up against it, Minho pinning you against the wood with his hips. Had that squeal really just come from your mouth?

His eyes were transfixed on your lips. You waited, heart hammering in your chest, while he had you trapped there. Until this point, you really hadn't been sure whether he was angry at you for saying such explicit things about him. The look in his eyes revealed everything - he wanted you just as badly.

He leaned in slowly. Torturously slowly - evidently, he was going to take his time with you. His lips met yours in a gentle peck, which he repeated, again and again. You sighed against his lips, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him closer, but he merely smirked against your pout.

"Please," you breathed.

"You're so desperate," he said with a low laugh. "I could give you what you want, Y/N, but I know you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I can take it," you protested, your voice sounding much whinier than you wanted it to.

"You can?" he asked, cocking his head and looking down at you condescendingly. You nodded insistently. "Okay."

Minho picked up the pace. His lips were soft but they bit at yours harshly. His tongue entered your mouth and you savoured his taste, sucking on his tongue gently.

Your hands went to the button of his jeans, swiftly unbuttoning it. Minho pulled away, stepping back and leaving you pouting once more. He laughed, that awful patronising sound yet again, that made your palms sweat and your thighs sticky. 

"What, you think you're gonna get my dick that easily?" he asked, cocking his head at you. "No, honey." 

"Please?" you asked. It sounded pitiful, even to you.

You watched as he went to his neatly made bed, tugging off jeans and laying back. "Come here," he instructed, lounging back against the wall. "Take your clothes off for me."

"T-Take my clothes off?" you asked meekly. It sounded pitiful even to your ears.

The look he gave you was scathing, although he did seem rather amused by the pathetic show of stupid desperation you were unfortunately displaying. "Well you can't expect to stay fully clothed if I'm gonna fuck you, right?"

You nodded, standing in front of him and looking down at your feet. "I… I feel shy all of a sudden."

"You feel shy? I don't know if you'd make such a good sex slave after all." He laughed before growing serious. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll look after you, if we do, but the choice is yours."

His kinder tone set you at ease, and made you realise that you really wanted this, you were ready for this. It also brought about the realisation that you much preferred it when he was mean. You didn't want to dwell on what that meant, though. 

You gathered your courage and slowly pulled your clothes off, standing before him in nothing but your underwear. Minho said nothing, but you felt as though you were on fire under his gaze. 

He wasn't the only one who was enjoying the view. Your eyes traversed his toned thighs, mouth watering as you thought about how it'd feel if he were to press one between your legs. He wore plain white briefs, and you couldn't help but stare at the prominent bulge inside them. Even semi-hard it looked huge. You noticed it twitch ever so slightly, as he looked over your exposed body.

Minho spread his legs slightly, before tapping his left thigh. "Come on, darling. I know what you want."

Was he a mind reader? You wasted no time, climbing onto the bed, straddling his thigh and beginning to slowly grind. He tensed it, so firm and strong beneath you. The perfect platform for you to drag your clit across. 

Minho's hands went to your waist, holding you gently, guiding you as you rolled your hips.

"That's it, baby, there you go," he encouraged you. The friction was enough to make you sweat, the pleasure overwhelming you. He was right - maybe you couldn't handle this. You couldn't even imagine how overwhelming it would be to actually feel his hands on you, feel his dick inside you. 

His dick.

You could see it growing harder in his briefs, a small damp circle near the head where precum had leaked. You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; your hand reached out almost involuntarily, cupping his bulge gently. It was firm, and warm, and growing bigger seemingly by the second.

Minho took your hand, instantly re-directing it. "No, no, don't touch. Not until I say you can."

"But I can see how hard you're getting," you said. "You want it, Minho!"

"Unlike you, I know how to restrain myself." He patted your waist gently. "Keep riding."

You gave a frustrated huff, but did as he said. 

Minho brought a slender finger down to your crotch, hooking it around the fabric of your underwear and moving it out of the way. "Let me see that pretty pussy," he murmured.

The new exposure made you moan aloud, hands gripping Minho's shoulders firmly as you rode him.

"Please," you whispered. "Please, Minho."

"Please, what? Use your words."

"Please fuck me," you asked.

He pretended to consider it for a moment. "Hmm… No. Not yet."

You groaned. "I need it, though!"

Minho snickered. "Don't be such a brat. I want to take my time with you, okay?"

"You can take your time next time! Just - please - fuck, please, I need it."

He raised an eyebrow with you. "Oh, so there's gonna be a next time, is there?" 

You ignored his quip. If you couldn't get in his pants just yet, you'd focus your attention elsewhere. You lifted his shirt slowly, revealing his stomach, where you found lightly toned abs that only made you more desperate to feel him. Miraculously, he humoured you, pulling his shirt over his head.

You gasped, running your hands down his chest. He was beautiful, tight pecs and perfect little nipples that stood to attention in the open air of his bedroom. You ghosted a finger over one of them, entranced.

"I thought that'd shut you up," Minho commented under his breath.

"Beautiful tits," you muttered unintentionally as you admired his pecs.

Minho smiled. "I could say the same thing about you, angel." He placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth. He wasn't gentle about it, sucking and biting without holding back. You cried out, your hips pausing their grinding motions, your system completely overloaded by his harsh actions on your sensitive nipple.

"Keep riding," he mumbled, not even taking your nipple out of his mouth as he spoke. 

You dragged your clit across his muscular thigh, whimpering loudly as you went. "Oh god, please, Minho! I need you inside me." 

"Then beg for it."

You wasted no time. "Please, Minho, please, please! I need your cock, I've never needed anything this bad. I know I'm just a filthy little slut but please give me what I need, fuck, I'll die if you don't!" 

"You really are a filthy slut," he agreed, lifting you from his thigh and laying you on his bed. 

"Yes, yes, please Minho!" you babbled.

He pulled your underwear down, leaving you completely naked before him, before tugging his own briefs off. 

Holy fucking shit, you thought.

His dick was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it - fucking beautiful. It was long, with a vein running along the underside, and the girth was decent too. The head was thick, and red, and if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you would've sucked on it for hours. 

"I know you want it," Minho said. "But do you deserve it?" He stroked his dick slowly, and you watched as the head disappeared into his fist, emerging again as his hand ran along his shaft.

"I don't know, but I need it," you insisted. "I'll do anything." 

Minho shook his head, but he looked smug. "Alright, baby. If you need it that badly."

"Yes, yes, yes," you chattered, intoxicated by a dick that you hadn't even felt yet.

He pushed your knees up to your chest, and you hooked your arms around them, holding them in position and peering down to watch his motions. "Such a perfect pussy." He rubbed the head of his dick across your clit, and you whined loudly. Distantly, you wondered if the sounds of the frat party below would even be enough to drown out your incessant noises of pleasure. It was irrelevant, though; you didn't care enough to stop.

He dragged his dick through your folds, over your hole, back up to your clit. Minutes ago, you would've killed a man to have Minho touch your pussy, but already you wanted more. He made you so greedy. It felt good but your thirst for more was unbearable, intolerable.

"Alright, baby, are you ready?"

"Yes!" you cried out.

Slowly, he sunk the tip of his dick inside you - just the tip. Thick as it was, it slid in with hardly any protest. He sighed as it went in, clearly needing the sensation more than he let on.

"More," you pleaded.

"You'll take what I give you, when I'm ready to give you it." Minho saw you roll your eyes at this, but said nothing.

He pushed the head in and out of your hole, never putting more than two inches inside. 

"Please give me the whole thing, Minho!"

He simply shook his head. "You wouldn't be able to handle it. Dumb baby."

"I can handle it!" you insisted. "I swear I can!" 

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow that told you he was unconvinced. "You can?" You nodded. "You're gonna cry like a little baby." 

"Just give me your stupid dick right now!" 

Minho laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, baby. Here comes my stupid dick."

He held your legs down against your chest, and slammed his whole length inside you. You saw stars. He thrusted, hard and fast, and you were somewhat aware that you were moaning probably louder than you ever had before, but all you could truly focus on was his cock filling you up. He was hitting your g-spot on every single thrust, grunting as he fucked you.

"God, you're tight," he groaned. He re-positioned his hips, and somehow managed to hit deeper. You felt him against your cervix, and cried out in pain.

"Too much," you weakly protested as your eyes filled with tears. 

"I thought you could handle it?" he said, his voice lacking any sympathy. "Fucking pathetic, begging for a cock you couldn't even take." 

"I-I can, just not so deep."

Minho smirked down at you. "It's not my fault my dick's so big," he said, but adjusted his thrusts slightly anyway. 

"I can take it," you promised. "I-I can take anything you give me, Minho."

"That's right, baby. My filthy little whore." His voice was calm, but his eyebrows were furrowed and sweat was dripping down his forehead - the pleasure was overwhelming him just as much as it was destroying you. 

Minho leaned down, connecting his mouth to yours as he fucked you. You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help but moan. His dick fucking your pussy, his tongue fucking your mouth. This was heaven, you were sure of it.

He pulled away. "You think you could take some more?" 

"More?" you asked, eyes wide. 

"Just a little more. For me?"

You nodded hesitantly.

Minho paused his thrusts, but before you could whine in protest, you felt his finger rubbing at your opening. Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside, along with his dick. The painful stretch was incredible, and you whimpered at the feeling. 

"There you go, babe," he said, beginning to thrust once more. He closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. "Fuck, this is nice and tight."

You were barely even lucid at this point. You babbled incoherently, unaware of what you were even trying to say. You were completely and utterly spellbound by his dick, by the sweet burning stretch. 

"Touch yourself for me, baby," Minho directed you. 

"F-Fuck- I don't know if I can-"

"I thought you wanted to be my sex slave, hm? Pretty little slaves do as they're told." 

You whined, but obeyed his command. "M-Minho… I'm gonna cum if I keep going."

Minho barked out a laugh. "Cum then. I don't care. But don't take your fingers off that pussy, not even for a second."

You were beginning to think that maybe you weren't cut out for this. You hadn't even reached your climax yet, and already the overstimulation was too much. Your stretched out pussy was throbbing, and you jolted each time Minho's dick pounded your g-spot. You were drenched, covered in your own sweat as well as Minho's, which was dripping onto you from his hair, his forehead, his neck. The air in the room was thick, and smelled entirely of Minho - you were covered in him. He looked like a god above you, fucking into you like it was his life's mission.

It was too much for you to handle, without a doubt. And yet, you'd be happy to spend the rest of your life underneath him. Or on top of him. Or in any position which meant his dick could be inside you.

"Minho… Minho!" you whimpered.

"C'mon, baby," he encouraged you, his voice strained. From the sounds of it, he wasn't far from finishing either - although you got the sense he could keep going all night if he willed himself to. "Cum around my cock like the dirty little whore you are." 

That was all the prompting you needed.

Your ears started ringing. You let the almost unbearable feeling of ecstasy wash over you, flooding Minho’s cock. You knew you were crying out maybe a bit too loudly - but you didn’t care, thrashing in Minho’s hold and grasping the bedsheets for dear life as he fucked you through it. He didn’t slow his pace, riding out your intense orgasm caused by the man of your dreams and making you feel as if you’d been set on fire.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Minho crooned, continuing to fuck you as he went after his own orgasm. You could only manage a high-pitched whine in response. "Just a little longer, baby, you can do it. Just lie there and let me use your tight little pussy, that's it." His voice was hoarse, and the veins on his neck were prominent. You knew he was going to cum soon, but you didn't know if you could hold on. You were over-sensitive to the point of pain, hands gripping Minho's bed sheets.

"Cum - give me your cum," you urged Minho. "Now, please."

His eyes widened. Your command had seemed to catch him off guard a bit. He pulled out of you, and you watched as thick ribbons of pearly white cum oozed onto your abdomen. You gasped gently as you watched. It was perhaps the most beautifully erotic thing you'd ever seen. His dick was definitely a contender for the prettiest one you'd ever fucked, and his cum was thick and heavy, dripping from the tip like a waterfall.

"Thank you," you whispered. He leaned in, kissing you deeply. He tasted like sweat, hot and sticky, and you moaned. 

He pulled away, before planting one more kiss on your forehead. "You're welcome."

Minho stood, going to the other side of his room. You tried to follow him with your eyes, but you felt so weak and tired that they slipped shut immediately. He returned seconds later, and you lay still, sighing as he cleaned you up. His touch was so gentle, so soothing, so different than it had been just minutes before.

"That better?" he asked, discarding the towel.

You nodded. "You want me to go crash with Felix?" you asked, unsure of what exactly this arrangement was.

"Nah, you reek of sex. Felix wouldn't want you." He helped you climb under the covers. "Plus, I wouldn't mind some company tonight." He slid into bed beside you, and you rolled over, laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, and you felt incredibly safe secure, especially considering just how utterly terrified you'd been of this man a few hours ago.

You giggled softly, so tired and fucked out that you felt a little delirious. "Can't believe you fucked me, Minho."

Minho gave a short laugh. "Can't believe you convinced me to fuck you so easily. You're a little minx. I really wanted to play with you some more."

You nestled into his chest. "I guess there'll have to be a next time then, huh?" 

"Yeah," he agreed. "If you're lucky."

"You wanna fuck me again, Minho, I know you do," you mumbled. "I saw the look in your eyes when you came. You need my pussy."

Minho was silent for a few seconds. "You're awfully bold for someone who was crying on my cock ten minutes ago."

"...Yeah." 

"Get some sleep, sweetheart." No more than ten seconds later, you were sleeping in his arms. 

You slipped into the land of dreams, where you went on to fantasise about Minho - his thighs, his neck, his tummy, his hands. His kisses, his touches, his dick in your throat, in your holes. Minho everywhere. Were you completely insatiable? Maybe. But it seemed very likely that he'd give it to you again. In your sleep, you smiled.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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#lee know #stray kids #lee minho #lee know x reader #minho x reader #skz minho #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #minho smut #stray kids smut #stray kids frat au #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #minho fic #lee know fic #billy's fics ☆ #hot bitch summer: makes me dizzy

[harleehazbinfics]

A tainted dove.

hazbin hotel x devout!reader devout series

Note: i could expand this more but lmao it's already long as it is. react down below if you wanna see more!

You lived as a sister for the church in your past life. You always followed the rules, devoted yourself to praying and doing charity work. You enjoyed that kind of life that just helped people and feel appreciated for your services.

However, most people in the convent didn't seem pleased with you being such a "goodie two shoes" and "outshining" the other sisters, by things holy, even the Father seemed to dislike how well liked you were in the community that he sent you off to a far and remote place.

There was no electricity, a scheduled running water system and there was very little livestock from the extreme climate that most animals die before they reach their first spring. There was only one other person there in the church as well, he was a Father that helped and did services for this small community. He was too old and frail to do tasks outside the community but he had to do it since be was the only one that the people here could depend on.

You could see how extremely happy he was when he found you at his doorstep lending a hand in his mission.

You lived peacefully there with the Father and the villagers, attending mass, helping cultivate the land by going to the next town that you had to travel on foot to get to with how remote the terrain was, and just generally trying to make everyone be happy despite the unfortunate circumstances.

However, men came and destroyed the village, setting it ablaze. You hurriedly evacuated the people to hide and take them to the nearest village for help.

Unfortunately, you were caught and imprisoned by these men, and were defiled as you died by your injuries to resist them, ending futile.

•°•°•°•°

When you sat and looked at the crimson sky your broken wing made it unable for you to fly feeling very detached from yourself.

You did everything they asked, you became a very good sister until your dying breath only to end up here. Were you fed lies? Or, was this the fate you were already dealt?

Collapsing from the stress, you failed to notice a figure flying towards you, scooping you up and leaving with you to his castle.

When you finally woke up, you felt your wings be in better shape. You gave them a stretch holding them in your hands as you inspected them. They were red on the top and white underneath with gray swirls as a touch.

You were startled when you saw a blond male in a white suit and hat come to you. He gave you some soup with a wry smile.

You accepted his kind help feeling indebted to him for being the only generous person that you ever crossed paths with while being here in hell for a good while.

He introduced himself as the ruler of hell, Lucifer himself. This fact obviously shocked you. Lucifer was this short, dorky, kind man? It was quite hard to believe from all the scriptures you've read while you were alive.

He explains his backstory which you found quite pitiful and explained how he was surprised to find your existence here in hell when you should've been in heaven.

He promises to make things right with you, so he takes it upon himself to call his daughter, Charlie to help you. While he tries to deal with it.

When you get to the hotel, you were enamoured by the passion that Charlie had for her cause and felt like you needed to help her.

So, you worked with them for a month getting accustomed to life here. It was actually quite delightful being genuine friends with them. They often talked to you when they felt lost or frustrated or lost touch of themselves and their emotions. You didn't mind it, it was your life's work after all.

After getting closer and closer to everyone, Lucifer comes back and tells you that Heaven doesn't acknowledge the mistake that they made and that you were to stay here for the rest of eternity.

This deeply saddened you but you touched Lucifer's shoulder and smiled.

"Thank you for trying, Lucifer. It's fine! I've actually made friends here. And since you're here, why not join us? We're celebrating Angie's birthday!"

He smiled comforted as you walked with him to the banquet table served with various dishes.

The night ends happily. Despite being unhappy and failing to connect with other people to create deeper relationships on Earth. You felt more at peace here with these sinners than you've ever felt before.

#lucifer x reader #hazbin fotel fanfic #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel

[driftingvoid-155]

Henry staring wide eyed at a scooped Michael barely keeping himself upright that appeared on his doorstep: “what the hell happened to you..??”

Michael, purple, decomposing, questioning everything in life but trying not to let it dull his sparkle: “You know that phrase fuck around and find out? Might as well call me a whore.” *collapses*

#fnaf #five nights at freddys #Michael Afton #my hcs #fnaf henry emily #things that were probably funnier in my head