#it's very mild and not graphic but just in case

[kiisaes]

kacchan, you have to drink this!

#i'm not super proud of this but i spent really long on it and it's the first time i drew the third fantasy au iteration digitally ... #deku is holding a healing potion btw! man i wish the fantasy au was an rpg of some sort #bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bkdk #fan art #becki draws stuff n stuff #tw blood #tw gore #it's very mild and not graphic but just in case

[lovelyhan]

— again and again ⟢

pairing: mingyu x reader

summary: your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

word count: 15.7k words

tags: exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut

warnings: medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets), mentions of snake bites, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: i wrote this with bss' 7pm on loop for two straight days. nothing like the sweet taste of yearning <3 this also wasn't extensively proofread, so if you spot a few mistakes, i implore you to ignore them EJWHJHSDF

this is part of the doting on you! series.

smut tags: vanilla, mingyu is super whipped, praise kink, service top gyu, dirty talk, nicknames (babygirl, sweetheart, sweet thing), overstimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, creampie, heads up that the filth is at the very end tho

taglist: @cherrycheolie1995 - @ashkuuuu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @christinewithluv - @fancypoisonapple - @odetoyeonjun - @minnie-mouser22 - @etherealyoungk - @davoraciousreader - @mariondior - @hella-sirius - @coveyland - @marlow234 - @dobomiyeon - @belysusonrisa - @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @seoksoop - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @acgyu - @gae-uls - @pluviophile-xxx - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @yutadae - @smileyjimvn

additional notes: you might want to check your visibility settings if you can't be tagged!

When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, you’re getting a nasty case of phone call anxiety—one that you haven’t felt in god knows how long. Maybe it’s because of the identity of the person you’re calling that your nerves are all over the place. 

In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu won’t be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by. 

But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! He’ll bring some again for Chuseok, won’t he?), that you just didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

So, because you can’t take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), you’re attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.

The first call doesn’t go through. Neither does the second. 

By your third try, you’re about to accept the fact that you’re going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, “Hello?” on the other line. 

You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyu’s voice, but you’d rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he won’t even be able to see.

“Hey, Mingyu, it’s me,” you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didn’t even falter. “It’s been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He doesn’t respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when you’re about to repeat the words—

“Kind of,” Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. “We finished taping a variety show today and I figured I’d get some sleep. It’s midnight right now.”

Well that’s news to you.

“Oh. You’re not in Korea?”

“Nah. We’re in New York for some brand collaborations,” he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. “Though I doubt you’ve been keeping tabs on us.” 

Okay, he doesn’t have to call you out like that.

Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, but…after breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought it’s best if you didn’t see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didn’t use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.

So to speak, it’s been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu. 

Until now.

“Do you need something?” he asks, and you realize you didn’t respond to what he said last. “Whatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. We’re holed up here until next month.”

Well…that’s all the confirmation you needed.

“I see,” you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. “It’s— It’s okay.”

“So you do need something,” Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should worry about, Gyu,” you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. “I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to—”

The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. “Come on, I’m awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.”

“If I’d known we weren’t in the same continent, I wouldn’t have called altogether,” you say before quaintly adding, “Shit. This counts as an international call, doesn’t it?”

There’s someone else in the room with him, you think—a quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan. 

“Five minutes past midnight,” Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you aren’t able to catch. “Who am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpul’s worst enemy.”

“Hey!” You scowl at him. “They never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!”

“Noona? Why are you calling this guy?” Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. “Didn’t you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.” 

This time it’s Mingyu’s turn to utter out a semi-offended, “Hey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.”

A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu must’ve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.

“Sorry about that.” He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, if you’re not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?”

You’re a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you haven’t spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyu’s always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not. 

The mere thought that he hasn’t changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.

You manage a quiet laugh. “I’m fine. The clinic’s fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.”

At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about. 

It’s just Mingyu after all.

“Okay, how about the guy who—”

“I turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.”

He whistles. “Ouch. And he’s been trying to get with you all this time.”

“I don’t usually date my clients, you know.”

“Yeah? I must be special then.”

Then comes the silence—so thick, you can cut through it with a knife. 

“Uh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,” you tell him a bit awkwardly. “Gotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.”

Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. “You’re really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when I’m out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.”

You chuckle. “That’s the thing, Gyu. You can’t help me because I need you to actually be here.”

“Oh. Why? What for?”

You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.

“Mom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,” you admit. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, so… They kind of have no idea that we aren’t together anymore.”

Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isn’t talking like there’s no tomorrow. You wonder if he’s figured out what you’re trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.

“No way,” he gasps between chuckles. “You were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, weren’t you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except it’s between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.”

…Kim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. “What am I supposed to do? My family loves you. I’d rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.”

“So you’re willing to pretend we’re still together just to keep them happy?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you’re an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.”

“Because I’m an idol that millions are vying for?” 

You roll your eyes. “No. It’s because out of all my exes, you’re the only one that Namja actually likes. That’s pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.”

Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that you’re only reacting that way because…it has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.

“Point taken,” he says. “I’d totally be down to help you out, but…yeah.”

“I knew you would be,” you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. “That’s why I called.”

Silence settles over the line once again, but it’s, by no means, awkward. It’s more…sentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared. 

Huh. You’re friends with Mingyu…

“Anyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,” you tell him before you end up saying something you’re not supposed to. “I’ll get going now. Good night.”

“Hey—”

You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.

Right behind her desk, Chae looks up at you with a knowing look. You flash her a smile that silently pleads for her not to say a word, but your receptionist has always been on the frank side.

“Something’s telling me you’re still hung up on him, boss.”

Sighing, you push yourself back to your feet, tugging on the lapels of your crisp white coat. That might be true to some degree, but it’s not like you can do anything about it.

You and Mingyu live in two completely different worlds. It’s something that you both came to terms with when you broke up. You just had to accept the fact that there’s simply no efficient way to work around his busy schedules and the appointments you need to attend to at the clinic. 

It was the most unproblematic breakup you’ve ever had, and it’s with a famous idol. Who would’ve thought. 

“Anyway,” you tell Chae before nudging the door to the operating room open. “Care to help me look for the anesthetics? I can’t remember where I put them away last time…”

Your receptionist is most definitely judging you inside your head, but despite how straightforward she can be, Chae still knows when to drop it. After a few clicks on the clinic’s desktop computer, she joins you on the hunt for that pesky bottle of anesthesia without asking any intrusive questions.

You make a mental note to treat her to some coffee tomorrow.

…

One of the reasons you seldomly paid your hometown a visit is the hassle that comes with the entire commute.

First you have to endure the long queue to get tickets before sitting through an eight-hour train ride to the seaside town of Haenam. Then comes navigating the local bus routes and schedules that always seem to change every time you go home. 

When you made it out of the train station for this year’s Chuseok celebration, you didn’t even bother stressing yourself out with taking the bus back to your parents’ house—flagging down a taxi that definitely charged you a ridiculous rate in exchange for your utmost comfort instead. 

You try not to think about how easier it was last Christmas, when you and Mingyu took turns driving one of his company’s cars on the way here—laughing and singing along to their songs on the road like nothing else mattered.

The scent of salt hangs heavy in the breeze when you unload your baggage from the trunk of the taxi. You had the foresight to make the trip before midnight, so you’re rewarded with the sight of the sunrise breaking through the nearby ocean—light glittering across the horizon like it means to say welcome home. 

That’s what you should feel; like you’re at home. But the fact that you’re about to bring some disappointing news to the table regarding your breakup with Mingyu isn’t doing your peace of mind any favors. 

You contemplated coming clean about it to your parents over a phone call, but it seemed too…impersonal with how attached they’ve gotten to your ex-boyfriend. Having a significant other that your family absolutely adores seems like a double-edged sword now that you think about it.

Once the cab hits the road again, you stand in front of your family home with a wistful sigh. It’s barely past seven in the morning, but your father must already be at the pier—sorting out today’s catch with the other fishermen in town.

Your mother loves taking walks in the market even if she doesn’t have anything in particular to purchase for the day. They’re early risers by default. 

You can’t really say the same for your younger brother, Haneul, though. That one likes to sleep until noon. 

When you ring the doorbell outside, you expect to hear the sound of excited barking from the other side of the gate. Namja was always the first to welcome you back whenever you’re in town, and just thinking about reuniting with him quells your anxiousness a little. But surprisingly, you don’t hear the telltale noise of your family dog’s excitement. 

What you do hear is the sound of the screen door opening and slamming back shut—slippers being hastily slid on before the gate creaks open, revealing Haneul still sporting a bedhead as he rubs his eyes.

“You’re back,” he says a-matter-of-factly, like he isn’t even thrilled to see you, but you’re too surprised to see him up so early to quip about it. “Mom said you wouldn’t arrive until noon.”

“I wanted to make the most of my vacation leave,” you explain before looking around the garden inside. “Where’s Namja? Did Mom take him for a walk, too?”

Haneul hums before taking your luggage. “Hm. You can say that.”

“What does that even mean?”

As if on cue, your ears perk up at the sound of a familiar bark resounding from the end of the road. You quickly whip your head around to see your beloved golden retriever, Namja, wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of you before letting out another woof when you call out his name in glee.

However, the moment you realize who’s holding his leash, you suddenly feel like you got struck by lightning.

It’s Kim fucking Mingyu.

The sight of your ex-boyfriend just...standing there when he told you he was on the other side of the world sends a million thoughts surging through your head all at once.

You try not to think about how gorgeous he looks in the early morning light. Loose, long sleeved shirt that still emphasizes his muscular build despite. Hair having grown past his chin, curling slightly at the tips. And those stupid fucking canines that peek from his lips every time he grins. 

The bastard is just standing there with zero disguises, as if his existence in this place, at this point in time, doesn't throw a wrench in all of your plans.

What the hell is he even doing here?!

“Oh, sweetie, you’re back!”

The sound of your mother’s voice is, thankfully, enough to snap you out of your impending mental breakdown. You were so taken aback by Mingyu’s presence that you didn’t notice her standing next to him, carrying the bag she usually brings for her early market visits as she flashes you a warm smile. 

You can only stand there in shocked silence as your mother makes her way back to the house with your dog and ex-boyfriend in tow. Haneul was already inside, so you can’t exactly glare at him for not giving you a head’s up. But given that you still have no idea what on earth is going on, you’ll play along. For now.

“Are you surprised?” your mother giggles before patting Mingyu’s shoulder. “Mingyu here said he got off work for a while so he could celebrate with us!”

“Gee, I didn’t know about that,” you say dryly, unsure of what expression you should even wear. “I thought he was going to be in New York until next month.”

She laughs again. “Oh, he told me and your father to keep it a secret that he’s going back to Korea anyways. Seems like the surprise worked, didn’t it, Mingyu-ah?”

The culprit himself agrees with a minute nod before loosening his grip on Namja’s leash. 

Your goldie immediately bounds towards you at the first sign of freedom, bracing his paws on your stomach as he attempts to lick your neck. It’s enough to distract you from the current predicament at hand, making you sigh in defeat as you sink to your knees and receive Namja’s slobbery affection in its entirety. 

As you snuggle up to the family dog, Mingyu says, “What can I say? I missed Haenam a lot. The scenery, the family, Namja, but of course…”

You can only sit there in growing disbelief as Mingyu mirrors your movements. He crouches low enough so that your gazes are leveled before caressing your face with a tenderness that’s both familiar and foreign at the same time. 

“I missed her the most.”

This is all a charade—that’s what you can confirm from the limited clues he’s dropping for you to pick up on. You can try to figure out why he’s suddenly here in your hometown—having arrived earlier than you, from the looks of it—a little later.

What’s important is that Mingyu, ever-so helpful, is actually playing along with the act you not-so-jokingly told him about on the phone.

You should be glad. 

…But why do those words make your heart ache anyways?

“Of course you do,” you sigh before peeling yourself away from his touch, carrying Namja in your arms as if he doesn’t easily weigh thirty kilograms. “Come on. Let’s get back inside and help Mom prepare whatever she’s planning on cooking for lunch.”

Mingyu’s smile doesn’t falter despite your obvious dismissal of his affection. You remind yourself that he’s racked up a lot of acting gigs throughout his career, so it’s normal for him to be a natural at this. 

But even if you know that this is all an act, you can’t help the way your heart lurches when Mingyu scoops Namja out of your grasp—the mere brush of his skin on yours more electrifying than it should be.

Namja whines in your ex’s arms, pawing at his chest before licking a long stripe across his cheek. Mingyu bursts out laughing as he coos at him, and your chest burns with an indescribable feeling.

A few moments later, your mother starts gushing about how excited she is to have both of you in the kitchen with her again as she leads you back inside the house. But all that rings in your head is a broken mantra of Mingyu saying I missed her the most.

As if repeating the words enough times will make them come true.

...

It’s one thing to know that Mingyu is in Haenam when he’s supposed to be overseas.

It’s another thing to see his usual overnight bag at the foot of your unmade bed, making you realize that he definitely came here much earlier than you anticipated.

Mingyu is currently in the kitchen, helping your mother out with lunch prep while she insists that you get some sleep first. Though the trains that led to the southern provinces were designed to be more comfortable than the ones contained in Seoul, nothing defeats the comfort of your old childhood bed. 

Except when you’re made aware of the fact that your ex-boyfriend probably slept in it after making the trip all the way here. 

The sheets even smell like him. A hint of that expensive fragrance he never seems to get tired of laces your pillows, and warmth rushes to your face when you realize you’re breathing it in a bit too much. 

So what if Mingyu slept here, right? Your parents’ house doesn’t have a guest room, and this was probably the only room available.

Oh, and in your family’s eyes, Mingyu is still your boyfriend. There shouldn’t be anything weird about your boyfriend, who went out of his way to quote-unquote surprise you, sleeping in your room, on your bed, without your knowledge.

And there definitely isn’t an issue with having to sleep next to him on said bed come nightfall.

You totally got this.

An attempt to dissuade all these intrusive thoughts is made as you unload the contents of your luggage into your old cabinet. It works for a while because all the old clothes you still kept tickled some memories from way back in high school, when becoming a vet was nothing but a pipe dream you came up with after Namja became sick on the day of his first birthday. 

In fact, as you look around further, you’re reminded of just how much time has passed since you moved out. The paint on the walls is starting to chip, and the floorboards creakier than you remember. Even the bed that was too spacious for your liking seems to shrink when you imagine Mingyu sprawled all over it with a blanket thrown over his large form. 

But when you recall how you two somehow made the sleeping arrangement work last Christmas, you figure that there isn’t much to worry about.

Aside from the fact that you’re not together anymore. Fuck.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

You jolt at the sound of a soft voice coming from the door. Mingyu’s handsome face peeks from the crack before he opens it all the way, lips pressed together in a hesitant smile.

“Your mom asked if I could fetch your father at the pier in a few,” he says. “Do you want to come with me or do you want to get some sleep first?”

“Do I want to—” you cut yourself off, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “Mingyu, what I want is for you to explain what you’re doing here.”

He cranes his head. “You said you needed help.”

“Yeah, but I was going to be honest about the breakup anyway!” you whisper, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from outside. God knows this house has paper-thin walls. “But then you’re suddenly here, cozying up to my family like we haven’t been ignoring each other for months already.”

“Hey, I’d never ignore you.” Mingyu pouts. “I even picked up when you called me at ass o’clock in the morning, remember? If someone’s ignoring anyone here, it’s you, sweetheart.”

You hate how you bristle at that little pet name. Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice how you react to it, so you steel yourself instead—refusing to give into his unintentional charms. “That’s not the point and you know it, Mingyu. You can’t blame me for reacting this way when you told me that you wouldn’t be able to help me out.”

“But I’m here, right? I thought you’d be a little happier to see me, but I might have been overestimating myself.”

You are. You are happy to see him. 

But having to live with the knowledge that Mingyu is right here, close enough for you to touch, yet can’t because your relationship has long expired? 

You weren’t ready for that. You don’t think you’ll ever be.

“Look,” he starts with a tone that’s meant to placate you, “you were right about not wanting to ruin the holidays with the breakup. I’m just here to help you out since you’re obviously not ready to break the news to your family. It’s not a big deal.”

You scowl at him. “Mingyu, it is a big deal. You are literally an idol with a packed fucking schedule. You can’t just play house with me here when you’re expected to be somewhere else.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Listen to me first, okay? We were all given the weekend off because of Chuseok on short notice. You don’t have to worry about you unknowingly stealing me away from work because there is no work. Besides, I told you I’d still be here when you need me, right?”

How can he say all that with a straight face? Like he still thinks of you as anything but an old flame that’s long been snuffed out?

The problem with Mingyu is that he’s too earnest for his own good. Always wearing a spectrum of emotions on his sleeve. Always so honest about what he feels about certain things. It’s so fucking difficult to stand your ground against someone who’s nothing but forthcoming about every aspect of his life. 

But it’s not like you could ever resist him to begin with, right?

“Fine,” you grumble. “Give me a few minutes to prep. I don’t want to go out in the docks wearing this many layers anyways.”

You hate how your chest warms when Mingyu’s eyes light up at that. Fight back, maybe?!

He looks like he’s about to say something when an abrupt knock disturbs the quiet atmosphere of your room. From how annoyingly long it lasts, you single out your younger brother as the perpetrator.

“You better not be making your firstborn in there,” Haneul drawls from the other side. 

Mingyu flashes you a mischievous smile before cupping the sides of his hands over his mouth. “We might be making our second born for all you know.”

You won’t survive this weekend. You really won’t.

…

“Remember when we used to eat ice cream by the Han River?” 

You flash Mingyu a perplexed look as you climb out of the car he used to drive all the way to your hometown. It’s a mystery how his manager allows him to go places with their company car with no supervision, but it’s not like Mingyu has done anything in the past to warrant that kind of surveillance anyway.

Besides, if he’s spending the entirety of Chuseok with a bunch of bodyguards lingering around your house, you might actually force him to go back to Seoul altogether.

“Why’d you bring it up?” you ask. “I thought you didn’t like those kinds of dates ‘cause you had to amp up the disguises and everything.”

Mingyu pockets the keys to the car before leaning against the metal railings installed along the pier. Your father is yet to show up at your rendezvous point, so you figure it wouldn’t do anyone harm to entertain Mingyu’s attempt at small talk. 

“Hmm. While I did prefer just cuddling in the dorms and at your place, it always felt a little different whenever we went out together,” he muses, the wind tossing his hair around slightly before turning to look at you. “How about you? Do you have any favorite date of ours in particular?”

You sigh, unsure why he’s even asking you all of this. Yet you indulge him anyway with, “I don’t think it classifies as a ‘date’, but I kinda liked it whenever you hung out with me in the clinic while I tended to some patients. Even if your presence there is an occupational hazard in itself.”

He snickers to himself, and you know damn well he still remembers the flock of fangirls that ran into him in the waiting room when Mingyu paid you a visit out of boredom. Thankfully, they were the respectful kind, and promised not to divulge information about Mingyu’s whereabouts whenever they catch him at your clinic.

“The dogs are always happy to see me,” he chuckles. “The cats, not so much. Oh, but remember when someone brought in their pet snake? I think that one had a crush on me.”

You do, in fact, remember the day Mingyu got bitten by a boa constrictor named Yujin. Her owner is one of your regulars, since other vets in the city don’t have reptiles under their area of expertise. Yujin hasn’t bitten anyone since she first came for a checkup, so you figure that Mingyu must have done something pretty stupid to provoke the aggression. 

“You better be glad constrictor bites aren’t venomous,” you point out with an airy laugh. “Not even a true love’s kiss can cure a venomous snake bite.” 

“It can cure a handful of other things though.”

You turn to glance at Mingyu with a miffed look at his attempt at smooth-talk. He’s always been this way, so it doesn’t particularly faze you. But it still feels surreal to be talking with him right next to the open sea in your hometown as you both wait for your father to arrive.

“I never really got to ask,” you murmur, eyes still trained on a flock of seagulls huddling together near the docks. “How are you? You’re not burning yourself out again, are you?”

You don’t see it, but Mingyu smiles to himself. “It’s in our job description to push ourselves past the limit, you know. But…honestly? It’s been pretty lonely.”

You make a face at that. “Lonely? You’re literally with twelve other guys, like, eighty percent of the time. How does it ever get lonely?”

Mingyu hums before leaning further over the railing. He looks up at the clear blue sky, breathing deeply with his eyes closed, and for a moment, you’re a bit taken aback by how breathtaking he looks under the spill of morning sunlight. 

“You can still get lonely in the middle of all the noise,” he murmurs. “That’s why I was kind of glad I got to go back here for a while. I know I said I meant to help you out, but there might’ve been some selfish reasoning behind the choice, too.”

Your gaze softens at his words. Mingyu is one of the most intensely passionate members of their group, so it’s not hard to believe that he’s also one of those that ends up feeling this way. You remember having a similar conversation with him during a quiet night in your apartment, limbs tangled together under the sheets as he wonders if your lives would be different if he wasn’t an idol.

But of course, it’s your job to remind him that, even if it could become exhausting at times, he once dreamed of being where he is now. 

“They probably miss you already,” you say. “Don’t you guys usually film content for Chuseok?”

“Yeah, but all of that’s prerecorded. They’re all with their families right now, too.” 

“Really? What are you doing here then?” you tease.

Mingyu tilts his head to the side, lips curved into a lopsided smile that reminds you how it felt to catch feelings for him the first time.

“Who ever said you aren’t family?”

Unfair. He’s being so fucking unfair right now.

But you can’t even think about pushing him into the sea because your father has already made his entrance, waving at the two of you despite his hands being full of fishing paraphernalia. 

He sulks about how it took you so long to go back home, and you had to explain that things have been extra hectic at your clinic, especially when you inevitably earned the reputation of being ‘SEVENTEEN Mingyu and Seungkwan’s trusted veterinarian’ despite neither of them having dropped by since the breakup.

You don’t tell them that last part though. The last thing you need is for Mingyu to have something to gloat about.

“It’s a miracle how those nasty paparazzi folks from Dispatch haven’t caught on yet,” your dad says before climbing into the backseat of Mingyu’s company car. “Unless you’re already in cahoots with them? Remember, Kim Mingyu, leave my daughter out of any celebrity gossip! She’s already built a good name for herself.” 

A throaty laugh rumbles in Mingyu’s chest as he pulls out into the street. “You don’t have to worry about that, sir. Protecting her has always been my top priority.”

Your father nods, seemingly pleased with his response. “Damn straight.” 

You don’t express any outward reaction to what Mingyu just told your dad, but you don’t resist when he reaches for your hand over the center console. 

The moment you he squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back. 

…

The rest of the day is packed with preparing lunch and dinner options for your other relatives in town. Having Mingyu on board is an undeniable asset, since the man knows his way around the kitchen even better than you do. It’s a little endearing to think that, even if it’s the first time he’s meeting your aunts and uncles and cousins, his personality makes him fit right in. 

Turns out, one of your cousins’ daughters is a huge fan, and she couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Kim Mingyu smoking fish in the backyard of your parents’ house. She made him promise to sign one of her photocards before they leave—a request that your ex is all too happy to oblige. 

By dinnertime, most of the guests have already left, and it’s just you, Mingyu, and Haneul sharing the rice wine Mingyu brought for the occasion, with your parents having already retired for the night. You didn’t even tell him that your Mom wanted another taste of it, yet he delivered anyway. 

“How are you guys doing it?” Haneul whines, a bit red in the face since he’s already had a few beers before your cousins all left. “When my ex-girlfriend moved to another city, it only took two weeks for us to break up. Long distance is the bane of everyone’s existence.”

“Everyone but ours,” Mingyu says before clinking his glass with yours. “You just have to communicate with each other constantly. If you’re honest about everything both of you are feeling, then it’ll be easier to work things out together.”

It’s so easy for him to say these kinds of things. As if your relationship didn’t go to ruin because of the long distance that always kept the two of you apart. You feel a bit bad for having Mingyu lie to your brother right in his face, but you tell yourself that you’re already here anyway. 

You’ll just have to fake it until you make it.

“But what if the other party doesn’t want to talk about it?” Haneul sighs, tracing the rim of his own glass with his finger. “I wanted to make it work. I really did. But she… She didn’t even want to try anymore. Lost faith in us so quickly, I could hardly believe she even loved me.”

You know Haneul is just drunkenly rambling about his grievances with his ex. He called you about it a few years ago, long before you even met Mingyu, and you consoled him by saying that his ex-girlfriend never deserved his love in the first place.

But even if you know the circumstances that led to your split with Mingyu are completely different, you can’t help but find similarities between the stories. 

You broke up with Mingyu on the first day of spring. When the snow was just beginning to thaw, and the wind started to bring in a warmer climate. They’d just gone back from tour, and you know you’re not the only one feeling the tightly-wound strings of your relationship beginning to fray at the seams. 

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but I don’t think we’re going to work, Gyu,” you murmured, not having the guts to meet his eyes. “I think it’s best if we just focused on our careers.”

You thought he’d throw a fit. Or at least ask you a bunch of questions. Did he do something wrong? Is he not enough? Yet Mingyu simply flashed you a sad smile before nodding right back at you.

“Okay,” he said with a kind of resignation that breaks your heart to hear. “Thank you for being with me all this time.”

In the present, Mingyu shifts beside you on the table—abruptly startling you out of that impromptu trip down memory lane. 

“Then, you’ll just have to take it in stride, Haneul-ah,” he murmurs before throwing back the rest of his drink. Mingyu manages a tight-lipped smile that pains you to look at. “If you really love her, you’ll respect whatever choice she’s come to make in the end. Even if that choice doesn’t involve you anymore. Even if it hurts to see her walk away after everything you’ve built together.”

When Mingyu turns to look at you, you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth.

“It’s a good thing I never have to experience that with your sister, though. She loves me too much to let me go.”

Haneul huffs from across the table before rising to his feet. “You two are so in love it’s actually disgusting. You know what, let’s just go to sleep.”

Half an hour later, you find yourself standing in the middle of your bedroom as Mingyu gets ready to sleep. He seems to be talking to someone on the phone inside your bathroom, but you purposely decide not to listen in. It was probably his manager or one of the other boys checking in on him.

You don’t wait for him to finish when you climb under the sheets, leaving enough space for him to occupy on the mattress, should he decide to share it with you tonight. There’s also an extra blanket folded on his side of the bed, since Mingyu’s a notorious blanket hogger, and you’d rather not wrestle that six-foot hunk of muscle for warmth. 

Mingyu takes so long on that phone call of his that by the time he finishes, you’re already fast asleep, curled up while facing the wall so you wouldn’t have to face him. He chuckles, lingering just a few seconds longer by the doorframe of the bathroom. How long has it been since he’s last seen your face under the peaceful guise of slumber? 

It’s been too long, and he isn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to commit the sight into memory.

…

Sometime in the middle of the night, you’re rudely roused by the sudden drop in temperature.

It’s only the beginning of autumn, but you noticed that it’s a lot colder than usual. Even if you already have a cozy blanket draped right on top of you. You sigh, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable before realizing that you’re not exactly alone. 

Much like yourself, Mingyu is blinking out the drowsiness in his eyes as he turns to look at you with a question in his sleepy gaze. You shake your head in a wordless attempt to tell him not to worry. 

“You’ve been tossing and turning for thirty minutes now,” he says, and hearing his throaty voice in person doesn’t even compare to that phone call you shared a week ago. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “It’s cold, and it isn’t even winter yet.”

He looks at you for a while, as if thinking of what to say before he reaches out for you and tugs you into his arms. Even if you’re practically half-asleep, the sudden action kickstarts your brain into motion, and you struggle against his grip all while whispering, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“You told me back then I’m as good as a furnace on cold days,” he mumbles as he tucks you into his chest—making you hyper aware of every ridge of his toned chest through his shirt. “If it bothers you so much, just think of it as a favor from one friend to another. How’s that sound?”

Friend. You know that’s all that Mingyu is to you these days, and all you are to him, but even in this drowsy haze you’re in, the word still feels like an insult. A word meant to scorn the time you’ve spent as lovers. 

Just thinking about Mingyu as a friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, so instead of answering him, you cave and burrow yourself into his warmth—something that he seems pleased with, if the satisfied sound that rumbles in his chest is anything to go by. 

He holds you in his arms the same way he did last Christmas, but there’s an unfamiliar sense of possessiveness sinking uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. You know you shouldn’t think of what he’s doing as anything but a favor between friends. You’re perfectly aware that, as the person who officially ended things between the both of you, you have no right to yearn for something you already gave up on.

But when Mingyu tilts your head up so you can meet his sleepy eyes, you don’t even put up a fight when he presses his lips to yours.

It doesn’t seem like he planned on doing anything beyond that. In fact, you don’t think he meant to do it at all. Just a heat-of-the-moment decision that the two of you could just forget about come morning. 

However, the moment he starts to pull away, you force a hand across the back of his head, crushing your lips back together as you hook one of your thighs across his hips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, large hands migrating to your waist as he reciprocates your newfound hunger like you knew he would. His touch leaves trails of fire tingling across your skin, and every time his canines graze your bottom lip, you quietly moan into his mouth.

This is stupid. You’re both being incredibly stupid. The walls are anything but soundproof, and your parents are sleeping just across the hall.

Yet you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Mingyu is making your body remember what it feels like to have him all over you like this.

You missed him. His heat. His touch. His kiss. Everything. You missed him so much that it hurts. You missed him so much that when Mingyu’s fingers start to glide along the exposed flesh of your thighs, you detach your lips from his before pushing him away.

You missed Kim Mingyu with the intensity of a dying star collapsing in on itself, of black holes tearing through reality, but this isn’t how you should go about it.

“Let’s…” you whisper, not quite trusting your voice to carry out your message. “Let’s just sleep.”

Mingyu doesn’t argue. He rarely does. But neither do you when he tugs you back in the caging embrace of his warmth. 

For the first time in weeks, you find yourself drifting off into undisturbed slumber.

…

The next morning, you’re set to go back to Seoul, and by some stroke of luck, so is Mingyu. Still, the two of you decide to stick around until lunch time—neither of you breathing a word about what just happened last night.

But while Mingyu starts to load both of your things into the trunk of his car, your mother asks you for a favor at the last minute.

“Can you bring Namja along with you back to the city?” she asks. “He’s been really listless before you and Mingyu arrived. Your father and I were starting to get worried, and figured you might have to do a check up first.”

You raise an eyebrow at her claim, not really noticing anything amiss about your retriever��s health, aside from the usual signs of age. He’s ten years old, turning eleven this year, so it isn’t such a mystery to see that Namja isn’t as hyperactive as he was as a puppy. But then again, your mother has spot-on intuition about all the strangest things, so you indulge her request in the end. 

Besides, having a pet of your own to keep you company doesn’t sound so bad.

Fortunately, Mingyu is more than hospitable when you ask if you could bring Namja along for the ride—promising that he’s car-trained, and won’t make a mess as long as you pull over from time to time. In fact, your ex seems more elated with the idea of your goldie joining the road trip than you are.

“I can come visit Namja in Seoul whenever I want now, right?” he asks with a soft laugh, and you wanted to reply with, Yeah, if you aren’t always so far away, that is, but choose not to. 

The two of you take shifts in driving as usual. Whoever isn’t behind the wheel is in charge of entertaining Namja in the backseat so he wouldn’t end up whining for attention the whole drive back. It’s a setup that you’re pretty okay with, since it minimizes any sort of window for you and Mingyu to have a conversation. God knows you’re not exactly ready to talk about…whatever happened last night. 

So instead, you ask him about a bunch of trivial things so he doesn’t get any ideas.

“You sure your manager is okay with you returning the car while it reeks of Namja?” you laugh before switching lanes on the freeway. “He might not take the news that he sheds very lightly.” 

Mingyu chuckles before scratching behind Namja’s ears. “I promised I’d have it cleaned before I returned it to the office building. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hm. Whatever you say.”

By your third stop-over, you decide to give Namja some food and water while Mingyu gets takeout for the both of you at a nearby fast food chain. You stretch out your limbs while your retriever happily laps from his water bowl, wondering how much longer it’s going to take before you reach Seoul. 

Before you have to part ways with Mingyu again.

You’re startled out of your train of thought when you see Mingyu practically sprinting back to the car, his sunglasses nearly falling off the bridge of his nose. Namja glances up at him quizzically, and you have to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, a bunch of fans spotted me in line, so we might have to get food back in the city instead,” he explains hurriedly as he helps tidy up Namja’s food and water bowls. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

After his meal, Namja is sated and sleepy—content with resting his head on your thigh as you watch the streetlights blur past the windows. Mingyu is a much faster driver than you are, so he’s able to cut the travel time shorter than it would have been had it been you behind the wheel. But the lack of anything to do has you quietly staring at Mingyu from the backseat while his eyes are glued to the road.

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on his strong arms, and the fact that you were tucked safely between them the night prior. But that’s your first mistake because now, you’re thinking about those desperate kisses you shared in the privacy of your room. Touching each other like you both feared the other would disappear if you didn’t pull them close enough.

You shake your head. No. This isn’t how friends should think about each other. 

Whatever happened back in Haenam, you’re just going to have to leave it there.

It’s already past eight in the evening when Mingyu eases the car into your neighborhood, and you try not to think much of the fact that he still knows where you live. 

“Guess that concludes our weekend getaway,” Mingyu says the moment he finishes helping you carry your stuff back inside your apartment. “Though it seems that someone’s getting pretty cozy really quickly.”

Namja is already familiarizing himself with his new home, wandering around the living room all while sniffing everything in his path. You stifle a soft laugh.

“Yeah. I guess it is,” you murmur before managing a kind smile. “Thanks for having my back, Mingyu. It…means a lot. Really, it does.”

He laughs softly, eyes trailing around the living room with a curiosity that isn’t so different from Namja’s. “You have your first boyfriend with you now. I can rest easy knowing you’re in good company.”

Your face flushes at the thought that Mingyu still remembers the reasoning behind Namja’s namesake. Namjachingu. When he was still a puppy, you said Namja was your first boyfriend, and that you didn’t need anyone else. 

He lived up to his title for years, too—always acting hostile around past boyfriends that you did end up bringing to your parents’ house despite coming from a friendly breed. The only boyfriend that your first boyfriend seemed to approve of is the man standing right in front of you, just when you thought you would never see him again within the four corners of your house.

“You know,” Mingyu begins, hesitation crossing his face for a split second before he meets your eyes. “My family’s in Seoul for Chuseok, too. I told Minseo to bring Bobpul and Baptori, and you might want to schedule a little playdate between my kids and yours.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Where’s Aji?”

“Too old to travel around,” he chuckles. “But I’m sure the other two can keep Namja company just fine. Join us tomorrow for dinner. What do you say?” 

You hesitate. This should’ve been where you drew the line. Mingyu has already helped you out of your initial predicament. You really shouldn’t create any more problems for yourself by joining his family for a late Chuseok dinner. In fact…

“What, you haven’t told your family that we split either?” you ask, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

“No, they know.” Mingyu shakes his head. “But they’ve always liked you too, so I see no harm in getting everyone to hang out in one place.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “You know this is just going to make things more complicated, right?”

When he flashes you that toothy grin, you already know that this is a losing battle. 

“It does, but it’s still going to be fun,” he says. “So, are you coming?” 

Sometimes, you wish you never met Mingyu at all. Maybe your life wouldn’t be so fucking difficult.

“Fine.”

…

The next day, you bring Namja to the clinic, and Chae is more than happy to see the brand new addition to the workforce. But while she’s giving your goldie more pets than he probably deserves, you ask if you have any clients coming this morning that called in advance.

“Oh, there’s this one guy who’s bringing in a maltese today,” she says, laughing a little when Namja whines at the fact that her attention is divided. “I think his name was… Seungkwan? Something like that. He has some records from last year, but he hasn’t been back since.”

Seungkwan’s coming today? Huh. Talk about coincidence.

You tell Chae about how Seungkwan and Mingyu belong to the same group, and your receptionist is adept enough to catch on to what you’re trying to say. She’s all too quick to suggest plans on how to mitigate the fans from flocking the entrance to the clinic, like that one time when Mingyu was too lax in disguising himself from anyone who could recognize him. 

But when Seungkwan arrives at your door, you remember that he’s one of the members that doesn’t particularly like being crowded by people, even if they are his fans.

He’s dressed discreetly—dark shades, a beanie, and a black face mask—while carrying an adorable pet carrier that’s probably worth half your monthly salary. Seungkwan is so straight-to-the-point with carrying out his business with you, that it’s hard to believe you and him used to joke around like old friends a year ago. 

But for some reason, when Chae excuses herself to answer a phone call, the façade he puts up falls apart in seconds.

“Noona, you have no idea how much I missed you!” he wails before throwing his arms around you. “Other vets just don’t cut it for Bookkeu! They’re always either too mean or too lax with her. You handled her just right today. Can’t believe Mingyu-hyung always calls you her worst enemy.”

You chuckle before patting his back, and Seungkwan pulls away with a pout on his face. “Hey, you guys are the ones who ghosted me after Mingyu and I broke up. You’re always welcome to come back to have your pets checked—non-showbiz girlfriend or not.” 

“That hyung of mine is stupid,” Seungkwan scoffs as he scoops Bookkeu into his arms. “Well, you’re kind of the same way, but I can’t exactly call you stupid or you might take it out on Bookkeu—”

“I would do no such thing, Seungkwan-ah,” you complain. 

“Okay, it’s just my personal opinion that maybe you two didn’t have to split up at all,” he huffs. “Mingyu-hyung has become more and more listless since you broke up with him. He might look like his usual self on camera, but when we’re not recording anything? He’s always so lost in thought! It gets on Coups-hyung’s nerves sometimes.”

Listless, huh… 

Your mother said the exact same thing about Namja. Speaking of, your gaze drifts over to your goldie who’s staring outside the door to your clinic, like he’s waiting for Chae to come back and shower him with attention again. 

Is Seungkwan insinuating that he and Mingyu aren’t so different?

“Maybe he’s just going through a blue period,” you suggest before writing up a prescription for the vitamins that Bookkeu will have to take for the next two weeks. “It’s been so long since we broke up. I doubt he’s acting that way because of me.”

Seungkwan breathes in deeply, like he’s just barely able to contain the urge to slap some sense into you. “Noona, listen to me. Kim Mingyu is catastrophically in love with you. When you called that night when we were sharing a hotel room in New York, it was the first time I saw him look so genuinely happy for reasons that aren’t related to our music. But that hyung of mine is too selfless for his own good.”

You startle a bit when he suddenly lifts Bookkeu closer to you and points her adorable face in your line of sight. 

“He wants you back, but he’ll never admit it, especially when you made your choice clear all those months ago,” Seungkwan says before pushing his maltese even closer to you. “But now, something tells me that you’re still hung up on him, just as much as he’s hung up on you—if all the things he told me about your trip to Haenam are true, that is.”

Huh. That time he took so long in the bathroom… He must’ve been talking to Seungkwan.

“Okay, but why does it feel like you’re using Bookkeu to threaten me into doing something?” You laugh softly. “Seungkwan, our time is up. And it’s not something we can just take back whenever we feel like it.”

“Wh—! Don’t you think things are only that way because both of you are making it more complicated than it should be?” He sighs, exasperated. “Also, yes I am using Bookkeu to threaten you. Promise that you’ll at least talk to Mingyu-hyung about this? We can’t stand seeing him so out of it anymore. Come on, you can’t resist those cute puppy eyes, right?”

You sigh, half-considering pointing out that Bookkeu is, by no means, a puppy anymore, but then again, you still call Namja that despite being more than a decade old.

“Alright, alright,” you relent. “I’m meeting his family tonight for dinner anyways. Might as well clear the air.”

Seungkwan gasps, a comical expression rooting itself on his face. “See! You’re having dinner with his family, too?! If you’re not back together by the time we fly back to the U.S., I'm never talking to either of you ever again.”

Now, it’s your turn to pout. “Who are you going to go to for Bookkeu’s check-ups then?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again before letting out a petulant huff. You can’t help the snicker that bubbles in your chest as Seungkwan tilts his chin up with indignance. 

“Point taken,” he says before narrowing his eyes and pointing his index finger at you. “But I’m expecting Kim Mingyu to come back to the dorms later, happy and not heartbroken. Okay?” 

You raise your hands before handing him your written prescription. “No promises.”

When Chae returns inside the clinic, you physically have to hold Namja down just so she can give Seungkwan a receipt for today’s visit. Your mother was right, he definitely was growing lonely back in Haenam. You haven’t seen him this excited in years. 

Seungkwan bids you another, more formal goodbye, now that you're not alone anymore. He doesn’t need to reiterate what he asked of you out loud—the look in his eyes is already telling enough. 

Given that today is a bit of a slow day, you decide to run a few diagnostic tests on Namja just to confirm whether or not he’s silently carrying some sort of disease. But all his results came out normal, except for a clinically insignificant but still noticeable increase in his body sodium levels. Might have to cut down the treats for a few days. 

Otherwise, he’s happy and healthy ten—going eleven—years into his lifespan. The reason for his lethargy back home must have something to do with innate loneliness after all.

Then you remember what Seungkwan told you about Mingyu. How he hasn’t really been himself since the breakup. You never really felt that during your time together in your hometown. He’s still the effortless charmer that you once fell in love with. The big softie that can get along with anyone and everyone, given the right circumstances.

Mingyu has always been a people pleaser. The last thing he wants to do is inconvenience others. So it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s been so out of it that even Seungcheol is starting to get pissed with his behavior. 

The sound of Namja barking jolts you out of your thoughts before your goldie pads over to where you’re seated behind your desk, whining as he nuzzles your hands as if he knows you’re thinking a bit too hard about something distressful. You let out a quiet laugh, scratching behind his ears just like you know he likes.

“I wonder what I’m supposed to do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should’ve been born as a dog instead. Thinking about all of this is giving me a headache.”

Namja growls before barking again. Like he doesn’t approve of the idea of not having you as his fur parent. You let out another laugh that’s a lot less quiet before you decide to pull out your phone and shoot Mingyu a text.

Are you picking me up later or not?

…

Dinner with Mingyu’s family is splendid

The outdoor restaurant his mother booked in advance probably serves the best songpyeon you’ve ever tasted in your life. Add that to the fact that they accommodate pets in their alfresco area, this could easily be one of the next places you’ll take your own parents for a meal when you bring them to Seoul for a quick getaway. 

Namja is a bit shy around other animals—a result of being around no one but your family for so long. But when Minseo introduces him to both Bobpul and Baptori at the same time, the two little rascals easily coaxed your senior citizen goldie out of his shell. Next thing you know, they’re running around the outdoor dining area like a bunch of energetic pups.

“Unnie, are you back together with this guy?” Minseo asks in the middle of dessert, pointing her spoon accusingly at Mingyu. “You can do so much better than him, though.”

Their father laughs at their youngest’s comment, and their mother rubs Mingyu’s back as if she agrees, yet still wishes to console her son regardless. Mingyu is simply scowling at his family for how quick they are to throw him under the bus.

“Shut up, you sound just like Seungkwan,” he whines. 

“Well, we’re both right.”

You let out a laugh of your own before scooping some ice cream into your mouth. Then, tentatively, you say, “Don’t say that. Gyu wasn’t that terrible of a boyfriend, you know?” 

“He’s always so busy though. Doesn’t even have time to come visit Bobpul and our other dogs anymore,” Minseo sulks. “He even missed my graduation! Can you believe it?”

Mingyu pouts. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” 

She huffs. “Not sorry enough!”

“Well, for starters, even if he is ridiculously busy, he still makes sure to call me before he goes to bed after a particularly tough schedule,” you say. “He also answers my calls even if our time zones are different, and it’s an ungodly hour where he currently is. Then when he finally comes back to Korea, he’ll give a bunch of gifts that reminded him of me on his trip overseas.”

You don’t know what compelled you to do so, but the words just gush out naturally. It was a little difficult the first time Mingyu had to hop on a plane to some other country to film some content with the boys, but you eventually got used to it, and managed to make a couple work-arounds.

Now that you think about it, if you were so used to it, why’d you decide it was best for you to part ways when he got back from tour? It’s been so long that you don’t even know the logic behind the reasoning anymore. You just remember feeling like it was the best decision at the time. And you were right—your careers have definitely thrived even after the breakup.

As you continue telling Minseo and their parents about how much of a catch the eldest son of the Kim family really is, you fail to notice the way Mingyu’s eyes never leave you the entire time. Soft, with just a hint of yearning that you’ll only be able to notice if you knew what you were looking for. 

“Ugh, fine,” Minseo huffs, and you don’t think she and Seungkwan are all that different from each other. “This is the first time I’ve seen a couple that’s broken up months ago talk about each other so fondly, still. You sure you two aren’t secretly dating again?”

“Minseo,” their mother scolds before flashing you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her. Minseo’s just been really snappy lately. Must be because she missed Mingyu here very much.”

She rolls her eyes. “As if I’ll miss that credit-grabbing punk. He didn’t even acknowledge me in his latest Instagram post!”

“Speaking of dating again,” their father interjects before taking a sip of his wine. “Minseo’s right about one thing at least. You and Mingyu still have chemistry after so long. What’s stopping you from getting back together again?”

At your side, Mingyu flashes his father a cautionary look. “Dad, that’s a really inappropriate question, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes, of course. My apologies. This old man is really just…curious, so to speak.” 

He bows his head slightly, and you make a little gesture that insists you took no offense. But the inquiry definitely made you think for a moment.

It’s like everyone you know completely supports the idea of you and Mingyu just burying the hatchet and rekindling your relationship. But didn’t they consider the logistics of it? You’re a full-time vet and Mingyu’s a full-time idol that travels out of Korea at least once a month. Though you’re a bit unsure of it now, that still played a part in why you called it quits in the first place.

Even when Mingyu took it upon himself to drive you and Namja back to your apartment, his father’s question still lingers in the back of your mind. 

What’s stopping you from getting back together again? 

The answer is pretty simple, but it’s not something you’re ready to face just yet.

It’s you. You’re the only one keeping yourselves from reigniting what you once thought was already lost. Your guilt. Your regrets. Your fears. You didn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that Mingyu would drop everything in a heartbeat if it meant you’ll take him back again. But as much as your friends joke about how you deserve better than Mingyu, you’re convinced it’s the other way around.

Mingyu deserves someone who can reciprocate the love he’s so willing to give tenfold. Someone who doesn’t flake out when he needs them most. 

Someone who isn’t you.

When he pulls over a red light, he lets out a sigh as he checks the text messages that popped up on his phone. After a few scrolls he says, “Oh. Jeonghan-hyung texted about some party in Gangnam. Do you want to—”

“Gyu,” you whisper, eyes riveted on the busy street. “What are we doing?”

He blinks. “Celebrating Chuseok together?”

“But we’re friends right?” You laugh somewhat bitterly. “Friends don’t normally celebrate the entirety of their Chuseok weekend bonding with each other’s families. Friends don’t make out with each other in the middle of the night. And…”

You let out a shuddering sigh before adding, “Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at me.”

You can clearly hear the sound of his breath hitching even if you don’t turn to look at him. It seems like he was about to say something in return, but the stoplight turns green, and he’s back to pulling his focus on the road instead of you.

In the backseat, you can hear Namja whining—ever the empath, that one. You immediately feel him pawing against your seat, as if silently asking what’s wrong. Turning around, you give him a few reassuring pats, not wanting to get claw marks all over Mingyu’s borrowed car.

The two of you are completely silent as he walks you back to the front door of your apartment. You know he didn’t have to, yet he did anyway. How Mingyu of him.

When you finally muster the courage to look up at him and bid him good night, Mingyu grabs your wrist—forcing you to meet his desperate gaze. 

“If I told you I wanted you back, would anything change? No, right?” he whispers, voice tinged with so much emotion, you can feel your own heart ache at the sound of it. “So I’m sorry if I’m being selfish for inviting you to every place I could think of. If I want to spend as much time with you as I can because I know I won’t ever get the chance to do so if I let this pass.”

When he presses your foreheads together, the look in his eyes is so smoldering, you can’t bear to look away. This is what a man that’s been yearning for you for months looks like, it seems. 

And you don’t think you can keep resisting him for long.

“Before I get thrown back into that haywire of a schedule again,” he whispers, and you feel every breath fan across your skin, “can’t you at least let me have this? Let me have you?” 

You don’t even know who it is that lunges in for the kiss. The next thing you know, Mingyu has you pressed up against your front door, devouring your lips where all your neighbors can see. But you don’t care. Not when he’s desperately holding your body flush against his as you reclaim what’s always been yours.

He whispers a bunch of things along the column of your neck as he loosens the strings holding your dress together from behind. Some sweet, some endearing, and others a touch too filthy for others to hear aloud. You stifle your little gasps when he wraps a strong arm around your waist, nudging your thighs apart with his knees so you can feel the hardness straining against his middle.

“It’s you,” he murmurs against your feverish skin, teeth grazing across your flesh ever-so lightly. “It’s always been you. And it will always be you.” 

You know Mingyu is a good actor. But it’s so earth-shatteringly different to hear the raw desperation in his voice. How earnest he is in telling you just how much he still loves you without saying the words outright. You can only dream of being as honest with your true feelings as he is. 

But tonight, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting yourself fall.

In the midst of your mounting desire for each other, though, a lone whine in the night snaps both you and Mingyu out of your newfound vigor. You nearly forgot about Namja, who’s impatiently waiting for either of you to open the front door so he can finally take a nap. You glance at Mingyu, and he glances right back, before the two of you burst out laughing like a couple of teenagers without a care in the world.

Once you’ve gotten your needy retriever settled outside, Mingyu practically tosses you on the bed the moment the door to your room clicks shut—all too eager to cage you between his arms as he continues where you left off. 

The suit he wore tonight looked a bit too good on his frame, but now you want nothing more than to claw it off him. He chuckles, sensing your desperation as he shrugs off his coat and unbuttons his dress shirt along the way.

“I don’t remember you being this desperate for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning down to grasp your face as he strokes your heated skin with his thumb. “I can’t say I hate the development though.”

“Mingyu,” you whimper as you guide his thumb to your lips, suckling on it in a way that you know makes him lose his mind every time. “Please. I want you.” 

It’s so easy to be honest with yourself. You wonder why you’ve struggled with doing that for so long, but then you remember that your brain is fogged with desire for the man that’s currently staring you down like he’s doing everything in his power not to fuck you into the mattress right away. 

But at that moment, you throw all logic and caution in the wind in exchange for taking even more of Mingyu’s thick fingers into your mouth.

“So good for me,” he whispers when he sees you inch your knees apart to welcome him in between. The hand that’s not being fellated by your tongue finds its way to the apex of your thighs—cupping your clothed heat in a way that makes you moan around his fingers. “How badly do you want me, sweet thing?”

“So, so badly,” you manage to wrench out despite your mouth being full, rutting your hips to introduce some friction between your aching pussy and his hand. “Please, Gyu…”

When he’s satisfied, his free hand migrates to your thighs, spreading you further apart as he brings his lubricated fingers to your sopping core. There’s something so fucking hot in the way he just nudges your panties to the side—groaning when he finds you already soaked for him. 

“You need something to stretch out this pretty little pussy, don’t you?” he murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe just the way you like it. “You want my fingers or my cock, babygirl? Better choose wisely.”

You want to say that you’re too fucking horny for foreplay, but also remember that each time you had sex with Mingyu in the past, the stretch of his massive cock can be quite uncomfortable if he doesn’t prep you. With how long it’s been since you’ve laid in bed together, you don’t want to rush into it without thinking of the consequences after.

So, you mewl, “Fingers first. Then your cock.”

Mingyu laughs—a deep, sexy sound—before planting a kiss on your nose. “That’s my girl.”

He carefully eases one digit into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he gauges your reactions. Part of you wishes to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry so much. That you still trust him with your own body even after all this time. You don’t say anything aloud, but Mingyu seems to get the gist from the look in your eyes either way, surging forward so he can press his lips back onto yours as he loosens you up.

“You’re always so quick to get wet for me, baby,” he sighs, stifling the noise that escapes you when he slides in a second finger to test the resistance of your walls. “You’ve no idea how much I missed this. Missed you .”

“Gyu, I—” Your breath hitches once he curls his fingers just so, making your legs rise involuntarily off the mattress, but Mingyu pins one of your thighs down with his free hand. 

“What was that?”

He’s teasing. He rarely ever does that. You shoot him a petulant look before taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging hard enough to coax a groan out of him. 

“I missed you, too,” you whisper. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good.”

A dozen emotions flit through Mingyu’s face in the span of a millisecond, but the one that remains is something not so different from longing. You hear him sigh a couple of words that you don’t quite catch before he’s taking his fingers out of your sopping cunt and pulling away from you. Just when you’re about to voice out a complaint, he starts undoing his trousers, kicking them away to some uncharted part of your bedroom before working on the rest of his dress shirt.

Not-so-newsflash: your ex-boyfriend is still fucking hot. 

But he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re reacting to the sultry way in which he peels his clothes off—dark eyes still trained on your pliant form on the bed. As Mingyu palms himself through his boxers, you can’t help but press your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. 

There was a time when he railed you so good, you legitimately couldn’t walk straight the next day. You wonder if he plans on reenacting the whole thing tonight.

“Let’s get you out of that dress, sweetheart,” he breathes before gently guiding you back into a seated position, tugging at the hem of your dress before tossing it to the side. 

You feel your cheeks warm when he stares at the underwear set you have on tonight. Plain cotton panties and plain cotton bra. In your defense, you really didn’t expect to get laid tonight. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Mingyu chuckles. It’s either he can read minds or he still knows you well enough to figure out what you’re thinking. “I’m taking everything off anyways.”

As he makes quick work of what’s left of your clothing, you distantly remember the last conversation you had with Seungkwan. How you told him you’d ‘clear the air’ with Mingyu right after having dinner with his family.

You’re pretty sure what you’re doing right now is only blurring the lines even more, but you don’t really fucking care right now.

You let out a hushed moan when Mingyu latches his mouth onto your nipple, massaging your other breast as he swirls the appendage across your sensitive skin. His free arm snakes itself behind the curve of your waist, pressing you against his firm body while rutting his hips against the bed. 

He’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, and it fills you with a heady sort of hunger that only Mingyu can alleviate.

“Can I?” he whispers.

You feel his teeth graze across the skin of your chest, making your toes curl with anticipation. It’s been a while, but you can’t easily forget how much of a biter Mingyu is in bed. He loves leaving his marks on your body, and even if you always complain about how hard it is to cover them up, you let him do as he pleases every single time.

“Yes,” you whimper, rubbing your bare pussy against the ridge of his abs. “Do whatever you want with me, Gyu.”

The sound you let out once he finally bites down is caught between a yelp and a moan, your fingers threading across his hair as he suckles on your skin. He’s such a talker in bed, too—whispering all sorts of endearments that are too soft for you to hear, but add fuel to your growing desire regardless.

“So fucking pretty,” he says once he detaches himself from your breasts and marvels at his own work. The fruit of his effort is yet to become visible, but he’s left enough angry red marks on your skin to guarantee the lovebites they’ll turn into come morning. “And it’s all for me.”

Lacing your fingers around his nape, you mold your lips together in another kiss, tongues dancing to the rhythm of your erratic heartbeat as you grind yourself against his toned stomach. 

“Mingyu,” you whimper against his mouth—hot and heavy. “I need you inside me. Need to get stretched on your cock.”

He groans again, fisting your hair so that he can kiss you even deeper. As he busies you with his mind-numbing kisses, Mingyu gets rid of his boxers in a flash—positioning himself between your thighs. You nearly cry out when you feel the fat head of his cock sliding against your soaking slit. When he grazes your sensitive clit, you could’ve sworn tears started together in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, babygirl, so fucking wet for me,” he sighs as he lays you back down on the bed and eases your knees further apart. 

You bite your lip at the sight of his cock, still as long and girthy as you remember. Mingyu pumps his length all while sliding the head across your cunt, but you let out another desperate mewl to just fuck you already. 

“Shhh,” he says, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Let me take my time with you, sweetheart. I want you to commit all of this to memory. Gonna have you feeling me inside you for days.”

And you don’t doubt that. Kim Mingyu has a knack for making it hard for people to forget about him, and if he plans to fuck the shape of his cock into your pussy, who are you to complain?

When you feel his cock catch across your entrance, you genuinely wonder if it’s going to hurt. Mingyu’s attempt at foreplay was cut halfway through because he got distracted by his sudden desire to leave a trail of love bites all over your breasts. But the thing about having sex with Mingyu is that your comfort is his top priority. 

He would never do anything that he knows can hurt you.

“I’ll go slow, alright?” he whispers, and all you can manage is a nod. “Words, baby. You have to talk to me so I’ll know if you really want it.”

“Gyu,” you whine, arching your hips in a feeble attempt to get him to fuck into you. “I’m alright. Anything you do is alright with me, just— Please. Please fuck me full.”

He sighs, staring down like he doesn’t know what to do with you before finally, finally, you feel his dick breach your entrance—pushing inch by delicious inch inside you with restrained hunger. You fist the sheets at the familiar stretch, but it’s not so uncomfortable that the sensation burns. You’ve taken Mingyu’s cock dozens of times before, and it seems that your body still knows how to accommodate his ridiculous size.

“Pretty pussy’s happy to see me again,” he chuckles, his grip on your thighs tightening ever-so slightly. “Still made to fit me so snuggly. Did you miss my cock, sweet thing? I can feel you pulsing around me.”

“Yes,” you drawl. “Missed your cock so fucking much, Gyu. Fuck—”

You feel so hot, so full. It’s like Mingyu’s the only thing you’ve ever known—surrounding you in every direction until all that floats in your lust-addled mind are the letters of his name. Once he buries himself to the hilt, Mingyu doesn’t move right away, still so attentive to your reactions that even if you want nothing more than for him to rail you into the mattress, he won’t press forward until he’s sure you’re ready.

“Is it too much?” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Do you need more time to get used to me?”

Something similar to a growl reverberates in your chest as you stare at Mingyu hard. “What I need is…for you to fuck me until I black out.”

Mingyu’s lips turn up into a grin as he shakes his head. “Baby, the last thing I want to be is some sex-deprived savage after we’ve been apart for so long. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then, he leans forward on the bed again, bringing his lips right next to your ear.

“But I can still make you feel good.”

He prefaces the words with a powerful thrust that you don’t expect, splaying your thighs further until they’re flat against the mattress. The slide of his cock still feels so unbelievably good that even if the sudden stretch should’ve been uncomfortable, you’re too blindsided by the pleasure to notice. 

Your eyes trail across the beautiful man above you as he fucks you in his favorite position. Mingyu has always had a thing for missionary—something about wanting to see your face as he wrecks you. You think you’re starting to share the same sentiment because not only do you get to see his fat cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt, but you can admire all of him at once, as well.

The exertion in those toned arms with every forward thrust. The conspicuous outline of his pecs. That toned fucking stomach. That gorgeous fucking face, so lost in the velvet heat of your pussy—

Why did you ever think letting someone like this go was a good idea?

“You’re going to laugh at me for this but,” Mingyu breathes, chuckling to himself. “I think I’m kinda close.” 

You do laugh, but it’s quickly silenced when one of his fingers finds your clit, rubbing it in quick, precise circles like he hasn’t forgotten how to get you off after all this time.

“I am, too,” you tell him. “Cock so fucking good, you can make me come in minutes.”

Mingyu lets out another guttural noise as he presses your knees to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulder with a look in his eyes that promises nothing but pleasure. Though his fingers have departed your puffy clit, the angle he has you bent in has his cock easily grazing your g-spot with every thrust—reducing you into a pathetic, mewling mess underneath him.

“Your pussy’s a fucking drug, babygirl,” he sighs. “Haven’t wanted anyone else after you.”

Even in your cock-drunk haze, those words bring forth some semblance of clarity within you. But it’s immediately snuffed out when Mingyu amps up the cadence of his thrusts, fucking into you with the intention of bringing you to completion at the same time he achieves it. Your eyes are screwed shut, fingers finding purchase across the ripping muscles of his back as you babble an incoherent mantra of yes, yes, so close, so fucking close, love how you fuck me, love how you make me feel full—

And then, it’s over—a white hot flash like stars bursting behind your eyelids. You curl into Mingyu’s embrace as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, and he’s all too glad to help you ride it out, pistoning inside your spasming walls with a rhythm that’s starting to stagger. 

“So goddamn tight,” he growls. “Where do you want my cum, sweetheart?”

You’re still too blissed out to give him a proper response, but from the way your legs tighten themselves around his waist, Mingyu figures that that’s the green light he needs to make a mess out of you. Mingyu sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck before biting down—his cock twitching in the heat of your cunt as his release gushes into you in thick globs.

He comes so much that when Mingyu does pull out of your abused pussy, his essence trickles out of your hole as you do your best to catch your breath. The world is just starting to return to its normal axis in your vision, and the first thing that your eyes focus on is the sight of Mingyu smiling at you so fondly, it makes your heart hurt.

The look scares you. Like he’s about to say something that you don’t know how to respond to. 

So instead of giving him any leeway for conversation, you tug him back down into a tongue-filled kiss, rubbing your ruined pussy across his still hard length as you mewl against his lips.

“More,” you whimper. “I need more, Gyu.”

And he’s all too happy to oblige.

Mingyu slides himself back inside you with an ease that wasn’t present earlier—your mixed arousal acting as a good enough lubricant to accommodate him. His erratic breathing as he fucks his cum deeper inside you only serves to turn you on even more, making another orgasm creep ever-so slightly beneath your skin. 

“Babygirl can’t get enough of this cock, can you?” he sighs. “Seems to me like your pussy never wants me to leave.”

“Yes!” you hiss, moving your hips in time with his as you desperately claw at his back. “Love your cock so much, please—”

“Come for me again, sweet thing, I know you can do it.”

It’s unbelievable how a few choice words can get your body to submit to his whims without much thought. Unlike your first orgasm, the second one that Mingyu coaxes out of you singes through every functional nerve-ending in your body—sending you into a flurry of overstimulation that has you twitching under his touch. 

Just when you thought Mingyu’s finally done with you, however, he suddenly flips you onto your stomach—pressing your chest against the mattress while your ass is high in the air. The sudden change in positions makes your head spin, but you’re too dazed to protest.

When you glance over your shoulder, he’s showing you that same smile you fell in love with a lifetime ago.

“You can give me a few more orgasms, right, baby?” 

When he slides his still hard cock along your swollen cunt, you groan into the sheets—having momentarily forgotten that Mingyu’s stamina can go until morning. If you don’t stop him now, he might actually fuck you until you black out, despite his earlier refutal.

But honestly? You’re not against the idea. Not one bit.

…

When you wake up the following day, it’s to cold sheets and the startling clarity of Mingyu’s absence.

You never minded living alone. You’ve been doing it since your first year of college here in Seoul. You’re used to waking up with nothing but the silence of your room to keep you company.

Even when you eventually got together with Mingyu, lonely mornings have always been a staple, especially on days where he has early schedules. It fills you with a sinking feeling to see that he isn’t with you, but you’ve learned to take it in stride. 

Besides…it’s not like you’re together anymore now.

This is what you wanted, right? For him to not treat…whatever this is as if it’s a relationship thing. The two of you were just heavily pent up, and caved into your mutual desires last night. There’s nothing more to it.

However, when you pad outside the bedroom after shrugging on a flimsy oversized shirt, the scent of pancakes and frying eggs fills your nose. When you see Namja sitting right next to a tall figure hunched over your stove, you can hardly believe your eyes.

He doesn’t notice you right away—too preoccupied with making the perfect breakfast to pick up on your presence. Namja, however, is more perceptive, glancing behind and perking up at the sight of you. He lets out an excited bark before skidding over to where you’re standing, and you crouch down to the floor so you can give him a tight hug.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Mingyu faces you with a smile that’s nearly blinding in the morning light, a spatula in one hand and a kitchen mitt in the other. It’s the exact same scene that you’re greeted with during lazy weekends where he doesn’t have any work to do, and your chest twists yet again at the memory.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile, rubbing Namja’s belly when he sprawls himself on the floor. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have to go back to New York tonight?”

“Yes, but it’s still morning,” he points out, and you roll your eyes.

A few minutes later, Mingyu starts to set the table while you wash your hands. He tells you about how Seungkwan doesn’t want to room with him anymore over breakfast because Mingyu takes so long to close the lights when he’s binging a new drama. You tell him to be more considerate of his roommates or they might just dropkick him off the hotel room balcony in his sleep.

When you help him put away the dishes, the sight is so…domestic, it gives you whiplash. Bumping shoulders, splashing water, stifling mutual laughter... Being with him like this, tucked in your own little pocket of happiness makes your heart soar in ways that not even mind-blowing sex can help you attain.

You pray that Mingyu doesn’t breathe a word about it, but of course things don’t always go your way.

Just when you’re about to turn around to give Namja her morning fix of dog food, you find yourself trapped between the sink and Mingyu’s arms—unable to escape the fondness in his eyes even if you tried.

“I think,” he whispers, “we can still make this work. You and me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Gyu…”

You think so, too. With someone as understanding and compassionate as Mingyu, you know nothing’s impossible if you just quit being so stubborn. You were so afraid of him attempting to bring your relationship back to life last night, but…

Seeing him bathing under the sunlight in your kitchen after months of getting used to being alone again… 

Maybe it isn’t so bad to let him back inside your heart.

“O-Of course, you don’t have to answer right away,” he says, turning red in the face. Cute. “You can tell me when I get back from New York. How’s that sound?”

You’re about to open your mouth to respond, but the moment is quickly shattered by the sound of Mingyu’s phone going off. He sighs, releasing you from the figurative cage of his arms as he leans against the sink right next to you—fishing his phone from his pocket before answering it in loudspeaker.

“Kim Mingyu, where the hell are you?!”

“Good morning to you, too, Seungkwan-ah,” he chuckles. “Why? What’s wrong? I told Jeonghan-hyung I won’t be coming back to the dorms until noon.”

“Well, Jeonghan-hyung must’ve forgotten to tell everyone else because the entire dorm panicked when we realized you didn’t make it home!” the younger man squawks. “We thought something bad happened! You weren’t answering your phone last night either!” 

You and Mingyu exchanged knowing looks, and you have to stifle your laughter if you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Seungkwan’s rage, too.

“Sorry about that, I was a little…busy,” Mingyu supplies. 

“Well, whatever you’ve been ‘busy’ with, you better get your ass back here! Manager-hyung is looking for the car you borrowed, and if you don’t bring it back soon, he’s going to give all of us an earful.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be back in thirty. Bye, Seungkwan.”

“Hey—!” 

Mingyu ends the call with little remorse before letting out a long sigh. When his eyes dart back to yours, they flicker momentarily to your lips before he leans forward. You meet him halfway this time, pressing your mouths together in a firm kiss.

“I’ll be back,” he murmurs. “I hope you’ll still be willing to accommodate me when I do.”

Though it pains you, he peels himself away from your touch, leaning down to kiss Namja’s head as he gathers his coat in his arms. It just occurred to you that he’s been eating breakfast with you donned with the outfit he wore last night while you’re dressed in nothing but a loose, oversized shirt. The knowledge makes you blush a little.

When you hear Mingyu’s car drive away, you sigh, running your hands through your messy hair. Namja pads over to you, tail wagging as he anticipates another round of petting. Of course you indulge him.

“Kim Mingyu is such an idiot, isn’t he?” you tell your goldie, and you like to think the small huff he lets out means he’s agreeing with you. “Why wait until he comes back when I already have an answer for him?”

This time, Namja actually barks out loud, making you shake your head with a laugh.

You don’t mind waiting for Mingyu, really. He obviously doesn’t mind waiting for you. At this point, you’re at peace with the fact that you might still love him. Maybe, you never stopped loving him at all. Once he lands back in Korea and comes home to you, you promise yourself that you’ll definitely show him.

Again and again.

this is part of the doting on you! series.

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #fake dating #mingyu smut #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

[certainlynotasimp]

oh just a little tip, i think it would be wise if you added the spanish translations somewhere inside the fics, this could be at the end or next to the spanish sentence, since you can’t copy text from posts it’s hard to translate since you have to type everything in google translate by hand <33 anyways i loved your fic, you’re very talented and i can’t wait to see more of miguel and his beloved sunshine.

you know what might be funny? if they were on a mission and got hit with a gas that switches their personalities🤣 now that would be something i would pay to see 😂

From Your Point of View

((Miguel O’ Hara x Female! Reader))

A/N: Hello~✨ Thank you so much for the request and the critique. I have now added some translations at the bottom of the fanfics because I forgot how weird tumblr can be about copy and pasting stuff😅. Also I hope that I didn’t disappoint with this as I was kinda struggling on what to write for this one.

-Still haven’t seen the movie so be warned I may get some stuff wrong-

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is their nickname not their name)), bioweapons, kinda graphic injuries, Outta Character and Outta pocket behavior, and Google Translated Spanish. ((Thank you @22carolina08 for reviewing it before I posted it))

~~~~~~~~~~~

The cackle of women enjoying the fruits of their labors filled the corridor of the abandoned warehouse as they surrounded the machine they were working on. It was a tall glass sphere with some kind of purple dust floating around inside while two titanium computers stood on either side of the device.

The three women standing around it were a set of Green Goblins who jumped from different dimensions to find a universe where there wasn’t an arachnid hero to stop them from using a bomb to take control of the city.

However they didn’t expect there to be four spidermen to be observing them around the property with one little spider hiding along the walls of their lair.

“Lyla,” Miguel whispers as he observes the meeting from the top of another warehouse. “Analyze the contents of that bomb and tell me how bad it is.”

The yellow AI materializes in front of him as Miguel tries to swat her away like a fly, not wanting her to compromise his location. Lyla rolls her eyes and explains, “The dust in that little bomb they have is made from spores of this rare mushroom. It’s been reported that inhaling the spores can cause drastic changes in behavior, mood swings, and mild hallucinations. Most cases detail paitents becoming aggressive and violent.”

Jessica’s voice buzzes through the intercom as she quips, “So they are planning on driving the city into a state of panic?”

“Sounds like it.” Ben Riley gruffs in annoyance. Miguel couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he knows the Scarlet Spider was still pissed that he couldn’t go ahead and stop the goblins.

“Sounds like a party to me, mate.” Hobie cracks as he watches from the ground. “Oi, Sunny, Dear? Wanna crash their party?”

“Yes, a party of people violently hurting each other and causing mass chaos does sound like fun.” Miguel grumbles saracastially before scolding Hobie. “She can’t reply to you, Brown. Not when she’s undercover.”

Miguel can barely make out her outline with the infared of his mask lens, but he can see his little jumping spider wander among the goblins unseen.

A big advantage to have someone with his beloved’s powers. She had almost every trait of the typical spider men, but she had a unique camouflaged ability. Without the suit Miguel made her, she can lower her heart rate and rapidly chill her body temperature so she can remain undetected by infared. She can also go invisible for a few moments without the suit, but both abilities are limited due to how strenuous it was on her being.

The suit allows her to remain undetected for a much longer time and prevents her from putting too much strain on her body. The slight heat the suit emits to keep her body functioning is the only thing that Miguel can use to track her. A major drawback of her gift is that physically she’s not as strong as the others, but she can handle herself in a fight.

Of course, he’s always there to help her. Her protective predator and his gentle prey. A match made in heaven as Jess always jokes.

“(L/N).” Miguel whispers into the com as he watches his love sneak around the device. “Attach the bug I gave you to the main computer so Lyla can deactivate the bomb.”

He makes a signal to the others to tell them to be ready for the ambush. The plan was suppose to be a simple get in and out. The invisible web shooter would get the bomb deactivated while Miguel, Hobie, and Ben rush in and take out the goblins. Jess served as support in case the villains ran past them. It was suppose to be an easy mission. Until it wasn’t.

As the bomb got deactivated, a light beep from the monitor causes the Goblins to turn around and notice that someone tampered with their bomb. Before the little spider could escape, one of the Goblins throws a jack o lantern explosive at her, causing the glass vial to exploded.

Miguel’s blood ran cold as he witnesses his love engulfed in black and purple smoke, and all reason went out the window as he rushed into the contaminated warehouse to save her.

“Miguel, wait!” Jessica screams out she drives her bike in front of the other two spidermen trying to rush in.

“What gives, Drew?” Hobie snaps, concern burning in his eyes. “We gotta get in there.”

“Not without these.” She snaps back as she hands the boys four sets of gas masks. “Lyla said it’s transmitted through air. Hurry up and put these on.”

Ben grumbles and slams the mask on before running in while Hobie and Jessica share a look. “You think Sunny will be alright?” The spiked spider asks as he places the gas mask on his already covered face.

“She better be.” Jessica sighs. “I definitely don’t want to find out how Miguel will react if she wasn’t.”

With that Hobie runs in while Jessica calls for backup to help contain the spores seeping from the windows.

~~~~~~~~

“Vitals appear to be normal.” Spider-Doc mutters to the three spider people surrounding one of the hospital beds. “O’Hara and (L/N) are both looking good on blood pressure and brain activity, so I expect them to wake up anytime soon.”

Thankfully, Hobie and Ben managed to capture the green goblin trio and reinforcements came just in time to contain the spread of the bio weapon. However, both Miguel and his companion were found bloody and unconscious when they found them.

The beloved spider woman had most of the damage with several shards of glass impaled into her back and arm while gaining a severe concussion. The team figured that in the rush of the moment and his vision obscured by the cloud of dust, the goblins took Miguel by surprise and got him with three sharp projectiles while he was trying to help Sunny.

Despite the horrific scene, both of them were deemed to be alright after some surgery and the only physical damage was Sunny’s now broken arm, which should heal in about a week thanks to the signature spiderman super healing. The only worry was the psychological damage.

Both were definitively exposed to large quantities of the gas and from what Lyla had said about the mental effects of the spores, they were worried about an invisible spider and her beast of a companion tearing everything apart.

Jessica sighs as she sadly gazes at the broken and restrained bodies of her friends as Hobi places a small bear on his little friend’s bed.

“Didn’t Lyla say anything about how that antitoxin is coming along?” Peter says as he bites his nail.

Spider-Doc nods as his lens shifts to appear like he’s hopefully smiling. “Lyla has said thanks to the samples from their suits, an antitoxin will be finished in two days.”

“Two days?!” Hobie snaps up. “We are about to have two spidermen possibly going on a rampage if we piss them off. I don’t think we can wa-“

A soft groan emits from the bed beside the ranting anarchist and everyone’s attention breaks from the poor doctor and onto the small spider. Her eyes flutter open as she frowns at her surroundings.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Jessica soothes as she helps the disoriented girl sit up in her bed.

“I’m fine.” The girl said in an unusually blunt way. Her eyes now harden in an annoyed expression as she looks around at the group. “Next time, you guys should be more considerate to someone recovering from having their shit rocked.” She scolds before growling at the pain.

The sight of the sweet girl now acting so bothered towards their presence was so unsettling, but not unexpected. They were aware the sweet girl they knew was gonna be changed by the gas, but it’s still disturbing.

As they all stare at the glaring girl, a deep groan comes from the bed next to her as her attention focuses on her love. Her anger emerges as she snaps back to the spiders.

“What the fuck did y’all do to him?! Was it that asshole Ben Riley? I’m gonna kick his ass if he’s the reason my Miggy is in-“

“Cariño?” A soft mutter causes her verbal rampage to end as a pair of ruby eyes focused on her. Once she meets his eyes, an uncharacteristically soft grin comes over his face as he mumbles sweetly. “Hola, mi niña bonita, ¿cómo te sientes?””

“I’m fine.” The girl mumbles as she tries to keep her stern face while a little dusting of blush takes over. “What about you?”

Miguel chuckles at her face and gently reaches over and caresses her hand as he swoons, “Siento que puedo enfrentarme a un toro ahora que he visto tu hermoso rostro, mi amor.”

The group of spidermen looked at Miguel horrified as he looks up at them. Expecting him to snap at them or try and escape his restrains, but he doesn’t do either. He gives them a bright friendly smile as he cheers, “Oh, you guys made it out alright. I’m glad we are all still here together. Great job, everyone.”

Hobie backs up a couple of steps trying to calm his raging heart before he had a heart attack from the shock. Jessica looks at him disturbed as she silently records the duo on her phone to show her husband later. Peter calls Lyla on his gizmo as his face looses all color.

The AI emerges out of the gizmo with a cheery, “Hello~ you ringed?”

“What’s wrong with Miguel?” Peter snaps as he hears Sunny immediately yell at him about what he said about her Miggy.

“Oh I meant to warn you about that. Well the aggression is on a most case scenario kinda thing, not an every case thing. Since Miguel is more genetically altered with spider than Little Miss Sunshine, his natural aggression cancels out the one caused by the bio weapon.” The assistant explains.

Hobie laughs at this as he looks at the now confused Miguel, “So our big bad leader is as harmless as a kitten now?”

“Yep.” Lyla giggles. “And because our sunny pants there was as dangerous as a jumping spider before this, she’s now part of the majority percentaile.”

“What the fuck did you say about Migue, you twig?!” The formerly harmless girl bucks in her restraints as her protective nature causes her to want to thrash the punk star.

“Mi amor, por favor cálmate... No está tratando de ser grosero…” A now teary eyed Miguel tries to sooth his partner in a shaky calm voice.

That was when Jessica realized a mistake they made. When they restrained the pair earlier, Miguel was placed in titanium bands that crossed over his chest, arms, legs and hips. Since Sunny wasn’t considered a ‘major’ threat in comparison, she was just held down by some chains.

Because of this, the earth deafening sound of chains shattering cause all of the spiders to scream. The AI giggles as she responds,

“I forgot to mention that the chemical not only increases aggression, but also physical strength. In humans, they would just be slightly stronger than normal, but in Miss (Y/N)’s case…”

The rest couldn’t hear what else Lyla had to say as Hobie started booking it down the hall with a pissed off Sunny hot on his heels. Jessica frantically tries to undo Miguel’s restraints as he cries for his lover to come back.

Peter sighs and asks, “How much longer until the antidote is ready?”

“I can rush it for you. Should take another 3 hours hopefully.”

“Do you have any tranquilizers?” Peter asks as a now free Miguel tries to chase down his angry lover.

“No~”

~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Hola, mi niña bonita, ¿cómo te sientes? - Hello, my pretty girl, how are you feeling?

Mi amor, por favor cálmate... No está tratando de ser grosero…- My love, please calm down...He's not trying to be rude…

Siento que puedo enfrentarme a un toro ahora que he visto tu hermoso rostro, mi amor.- I feel like I can take on a bull now that I've seen your beautiful face, my love.

~~~~~~~~~~

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#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara

[toxicanonymity]

You really are trouble. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 3 of 6)

Can read STANDALONE, or Story Master List

4.4k words | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader | 18+ nsfw

Summary: You go back to campus and Joel shows up. You stay with him for a night.

He chuckles then checks you out and a hunger comes over his face.  He looks down at himself before he lowers his voice and meets your eyes again. “What, you wanna souvenir? I’ll send you a picture.”  The way he's looking at you. . . you can practically see the reflection of your naked tits in his pupils, even though you're fully clothed.  He adjusts his jeans and looks out the passenger window behind you.

thx for moodboard @dark-scape. | joel master list

Next: Part 4

content notes/warnings: age gap, protective!joel, reader can wear Joel's jacket & Chad mistakes Joel as her dad (in hindsight I would try to do this a different way but it is what it is and I've left it because it reveals something about her dad), ample sexual tension, non-graphic violence, ref to gaslighting, light hurt/comfort, light stalking, blackmail/manipulation themes, begging, mild dubcon, cunnilingus, cumshot, slasherfucker easter egg🥚, Joel says he can wear something of hers to sleep.

As you drive back to campus, you try to think logically about Joel.  On one hand, fucking him might give you even more leverage, if you could stay detached, but you're smart enough to recognize the poor odds of that.  You also wonder if you should question his motives.  He's never so much as hit on you until now that you have something over him.  To be fair, it isn't out of nowhere -  you held eye contact with him while he fucked your stepmother.  You could’ve walked away as soon as your suspicion was confirmed, but you didn't walk away until he came, eyes locked with yours. Then, the next day, you went to his pool, took your top off, and made him jerk off.  

-

When you get to your apartment, you bring Joel's jacket inside and drape it over your upper body, all the way up to your nose while you lie on your bed and scroll your phone.  Chad, your kind-of ex, asks if you can talk.  You start typing something, but when he texts you again to add a question mark, you decide to ignore him.  You put on the jacket.  There’s a scrap of thermal paper with gps coordinates in the pocket.  Out of curiosity, you search the coordinates and they're near Uvalde, but you don’t find an address.  The closest thing is an abandoned mall.  

You put down your phone and turn up the jacket collar, then inhale it with your eyes closed.  You get another text and it’s Joel.  For a moment, you feel warm and fuzzy, until you open it.  

“Thinking of you.”  It’s a surveillance picture of you topless in his pool.  A pit opens in your stomach.

You can just picture his smug smile as his big stupid thumb pressed send.   The picture disappears as your ears get hot.  What does he think he’s doing? You text him accordingly. You seethe. But there’s another part of you – a hot, wet part of you, that only wants Joel more with every depraved thing he says and does. You almost wish the picture didn't disappear so you could admire his back and imagine what else could have been. . .

Imagine Joel getting in the pool with you, pinning you to the edge, his thickening cock pressing into you, rock-hard.  Joel wrapping his arm around you, shoving his hand between your legs, pulling your swimsuit to the side, taking you from behind.  His cock filling you up, one hand on your tits, the other between your legs.  Bouncing you on his cock, zero gravity, your knees spread and bent.  You get yourself off with very little effort by imagining this.  It only briefly crosses your mind that, worst case scenario, the oxytocin of each orgasm may work to his advantage.

-

You have to work at the cafe the next day.  It’s gotten slower since summer session ended, but the bookstore still gets traffic from families visiting campus and whoever's still around.  And as long as the bookstore gets traffic, so does the cafe.  

Chad, your kind-of ex, comes in.  You try to remain composed and professional, but it’s humiliating having to serve him after he cheated on you then tried to gaslight you that you were never "together" after almost a year.  He’s wearing a t-shirt from the venue where you met when you saw his band play. 

Your heart races as you write his name on a cup and he tries to get you to take your break.  You refuse.   He invites you to a party, then sits alone in the cafe for a few minutes, manspreading like he owns the place, watching you.  Eventually, he leaves and your eyes well up in tears.   You wipe down tables as a way to get a moment alone to compose yourself.  

-

When you finish wiping down the last table, you stand up and get startled by someone standing way too close behind you. 

Joel’s low, gruff voice asks, “I reckon that's Chad?” 

Your heart jumps to your throat.  “What are you doing here?” Naturally, you’re still mad about the topless picture – or at least, you feel like you should be mad. 

“Comin' back from a job.  You okay?”

You turn around and meet his eyes.  And forearms.   His denim shirt is fitted and his sleeves are rolled up.  Jesus.  

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“I know.  You can delete it yourself.  Come out to my truck for a minute.” 

“Seriously?”  

“What, you trust me to do it myself?” 

You roll your eyes and take your break, following him outside.  

-

Joel opens the passenger door for you.  When he gets in the truck, he pulls out an iPad and opens his home surveillance app.  

“We’re on my hotspot.  Here, delete the whole day if you want. Then go to the trash and empty it.”  He hands you the iPad.  “Can’t be too careful these days, Trouble.”  he adds.

Your cheeks burn with exception. Resentment.  “Can’t be too careful ‘cause a creep like you might record me?”   

“See that black bar?" He points. "Means no data for that time.  ‘Cause I turned’em off, just not fast enough.” 

“Conveniently, right before you took your cock out.”  

He chuckles, then checks you out.  A hunger comes over his face.  Maybe it was hearing you refer to his cock.  He looks down at himself before he lowers his voice and meets your eyes again.

“What, you wanna souvenir? I’ll send you a picture.”  You can practically see the reflection of your naked tits in his eyes.  He adjusts his jeans and looks out the window behind you.

Your face gets hot.  You compose yourself and look him up and down.  “If I wanna see your cock, I’ll tell you to take it out.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. "Attagirl."  He whistles as he shifts in his seat.  “God damn, Trouble.  You really are.” He puffs his cheeks as he exhales and shakes his head.  "Who knew," he adds under his breath, looking absently through the windshield.  

You hand the iPad back to him and an alert pops up, catching your eye.  It’s your stepmother’s car at his gate.  It quickens your heart rate.  You study his face for an answer. 

He sighs.  “She keeps callin’, comin’ by.   I changed the gate codes. . . I’ll text you your new one." His brow furrows as he stares into space, then he scratches the back of his neck.  "I reckon I should prolly stay away for a couple days, let her get it out of her system.” 

He deletes the app and reaches behind the seat to pull out an Apple Store bag.  He puts the iPad in the bag and hands it to you.  “Keep it.” It’s blue like the phone from yesterday. You should’ve known. 

“Real creative.  This is your whole plan? Buy me an Apple store?” you hand it back to him.  "I'm not walking back in there with that." 

"Fair enough."  He smiles to himself and leaves it in the truck as you both get out.  He puts on his Ray Bans. 

Joel pulls up his pants and puts his hands on his hips, shifting his weight to one leg and popping out a knee.  Your gaze drifts to the bulge below his belt.  His brow furrows as he looks off.  

“Now. . .'bout Chad. . .  I reckon I got nothin’ but time now if he needs a lesson in manners.”  Once again, you hate him for bringing up Chad.  

Your face tightens despite your best efforts. "Don't bother."

“Aw, shoot.”  He always knows.  “Com'ere, sugar.”  Joel opens his big arms. You can’t resist his bear hug.  You feel safe.

You sniffle and he whispers, “Hey, Trouble. What did the white grape say to the purple grape?" 

"Hm?"

"Breathe." 

You can't help but laugh. He hadn't told one of those in a while. Fitting, too.

“There she is.”  He smiles as you pull away. 

“I have to get back to work.”

“Reckon I'll be 'round if you need anything.” 

“Okay, creeper.”

-

When you get home from work, your roommate is watching the news.  The newscasters are talking about a body found in an underground bunker outside Uvalde near the border.  You look up and do a double take.  

“Holy shit.” Your heart races.

“What”

“Oh, I thought I recognized that mall.” 

You consider texting Joel about it, but something tells you not to.  You don't text him at all.  You google it. There are rumors it was a cartel boss.

Your roommate is planning on going to the party Chad invited you to to meet up with a guy you and Chad introduced her to.  You resist her invitation, but she begs you to come just for a few minutes so she doesn’t have to show up alone, and eventually, you relent.  You do a little pregaming at home before heading to the party.  You wear something hot to make Chad sorry – leather pants and a low-cut, lace top – with Joel's jacket over it. 

-

Chad is already drunk when you get  there.  He herds you and your roommate to the drinks. The guy she’s talking to went on a beer run. Aside from the two of you, it’s almost all guys, so you’d feel guilty leaving her there.  You decide to stay just until her guy gets back from his beer run. 

This takes longer than you expect.  Chad keeps trying to talk to you, telling you how good you look, until someone distracts him with beer pong. You have to wonder if your roommate's guy is really on a beer run, or with another girl.  These guys are all the same.  You feel guilty for Chad introducing them.  When the guy finally shows up, he does have beer in hand, but not nearly an hour’s worth when the store is just a few blocks away. 

As you’re getting ready to leave, Chad steps in front of the door.  He begs you to talk to him just for a few minutes.  You refuse and open the door to leave, but he doesn’t back down.  He yanks the door shut, then towers over you and pins you to the foyer wall.  

Within seconds, the front door swings back open.  

“Get your hands off her,” Joel booms as he charges in, then grabs Chad by the shirt and slams him up against the wall. Chad is an inch or two taller than Joel, and yet Joel seems to tower over him. 

“You told your dad?” Chad asks you, incredulous. 

“Get in the truck,” Joel tells you sternly, pointing out the door.  You leave the door open behind you to watch and listen as you very slowly inch toward Joel's truck.

Joel tells him, “If she told her dad, you wouldn’t be breathin'. I'm fixin' to save your life right now."

He releases Chad just long enough for him to turn around and face him so it's a fair fight.   Then, Joel decks Chad in the face.  Chad goes stumbling across the foyer holding his jaw.  

“Get in the truck, now!” Joel yells out the door at you, neck vein bulging, then pulls the door shut and stays inside with Chad.  

-

You get in the truck and the shock catches up to you.  You can’t stop the tears. Your mascara runs and you don’t have any tissues.  You open the center console and don’t find any.  He’s a man, of course he doesn’t have any.  You open the glove box anyway.  A few scattered condoms, no surprise there.  Registration.  Not much else. It's super shallow.  

You lift the tray out.  In the hidden chamber, there’s nothing but a gun and a cylinder. . .a silencer.  In Texas, it'd be weirder if he didn't have a gun. But a silencer? Who is he, John Wick?  What kind of contractor carries a silencer? . . . No. The blood drains from your face. You quickly replace the tray and close the glove box, your heart racing. Was it a bullet wound scar you caught a glimpse of at the pool? 

The mental image of him pulling off his jeans makes you forget about the silencer.  If your leggings weren't leather, you'd probably soak right through them.  

 -

Joel comes out and slams the door behind him. His muscles and veins bulge as he charges toward you.  

"Are you okay?" He asks as he gets in the truck. He leans over to buckle you in. You can smell his sweat and musk. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." 

"That's the guy you were seein' for damn near a year? That damn fool?" 

"Don't," you warn. 

You ride in silence and he calms down. 

"Sorry," he says at a stoplight.  He rests his massive hand loosely on your thigh.  "I shouldn't'a said that " His veins are still bulging.

"You're right though," you sigh. Your eyes won't leave the vein on his hand.

You shift in your seat, the lightest contact of his big, masculine hand literally opening your legs.  You fold your left heel under you, which has the effect of shifting his hand to your inner thigh.  He inhales deeply but leaves his hand resting loosely on your inner thigh. 

"Well, I reckon it's over now," he says. 

He doesn't take his hand back until he needs it on the steering wheel. 

"This isn't the way," you tell him. 

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he responds, then stretches his jaw.  “Got a suite on the river.” 

You absently fiddle with the scrap of paper in your (his) left jacket pocket.  You ask him what job he was coming back from.  He does a double take and holds out his hand. 

"Gimme that," he says sternly. 

“I just like to hear about what you’re building.” 

"Now."

"What, your trash?" you hand it over and he lifts his butt out of the seat to shove it in his pocket. In effect, the motion is a pelvic thrust.  It makes you forget about everything else. 

-

He's staying at one of the nicer hotels on the Riverwalk. He pulls up to the entrance and asks the valet for a minute.  

Joel comes over and opens your door.  "Come on, let's go."  He notices the mascara on your face.  "Shit." He pulls a first aid kit from under the seat and gives you an alcohol pad and uses one to clean the blood off his knuckles. He glances at the glove box contemplatively, but doesn't open it. 

The lobby has an overly modern chandelier.  He gives you a key card. On the elevator, you rest your head on his shoulder.  It's a suite with two bedrooms.  His stuff is already in one of them.  

He gestures to the empty room, scratching the back of his neck, making his bicep look even more enormous. "If you want to, uh. . . Do you need anything? I can go to the store"

"Like what," you implore. 

He leans against the door frame and crosses his imposing arms. 

"I dunno what you need in general, so.  I dunno," he shrugs.  “You’ve got a toothbrush and stuff in there.”  He nods to the bathroom.  

"Is there a blanket?" You ask. 

"You got it." He disappears, opens a few doors, and comes back with a blanket and the iPad.  "Put a couple movies on there for ya.  If you wanna cast one to the TV." 

He swipes it open and gives it to you, and you almost want to cry.  He can tell.  He turns the TV to the right mode for you.  

“You can wear something of mine if you want,” he offers, then leaves to take a shower.

“I always sleep in leather pants,” you say deadpan.  

You may take him up on that later, but not now.  You freshen up and take off his jacket then lie down on the bed, on top of the comforter, but under the blanket he fetched. You start watching Scream.   

-

After his shower, he comes back in boxers and a t-shirt and asks if you're okay.  

You were fine until he asked.  You swallow down your emotions. "Stop asking me that." You sit up and pull your knees to your chest.  

He approaches the bed and sits down on the edge. He lays a hand on your knee, and you ogle its masculine knuckles and prominent vein as he says "I know it's been a rough week." He doesn't seem to know what else to say, but his eyes look sincere.   

You scoot over to make room for him on the bed and lift up the blanket.  He lies down and lets you into the crook of his arm.  He smells good. You watch most of the movie like that, not moving.  Just inhaling his scent and lusting after him, your wits battling your carnal need. He falls asleep for awhile but wakes back up.

-

On the screen, Billy Loomis sucks blood off his own fingers. Joel says, “There he is.”  He's seen your canvas tote bag with that image on it.  “See?  You’ve always had bad taste in men.”  

You punch him in the chest playfully and he acts like it hurts.  His smile kills you.  

You’re on a bed with him, snuggled  up with him, your head on his enormous bicep, and he feels far away.  Why doesn’t he try to fuck you?  It hits you like a punch in the gut that if you want something, you're going to have to take it.  And God, you want something.  You know better, but you want it.

You wet your lips and watch his face.  The pattern of his facial hair is so perfect.  Every little blank patch is perfectly placed.  Every touch of gray and silver.  It’s all of him, really.  Every broken capillary on his skin, every line.  It’s the most perfect design.  It’s almost unbearable. 

You hook your far leg over his.  He glances at you.  You pause the movie.  He does a double take when he sees the way you’re looking at him.  You’re trying to work up the courage to make a move.  Your lips part, and your hand glides up his chest to his neck, resting by his vein. His heart rate quickens.

“Terrible taste,” he mutters, reading your eyes like a book. 

You slowly lean in. He intercepts your mouth, controlling the nature of the kiss.  He kisses half your bottom lip, then trails his lips down your chin.  You tilt your chin up and he kisses its underside, open-mouth.  He pivots over your leg to be on top of you with one leg between yours.  His expansive hand runs down the side of your lacy top to your free leg, and he grabs your hamstring as your knee bends around him.  Your hips lift and you grind into his thigh, desperate for whatever he’ll give you.  He hardens against your inner thigh and you hear yourself gasp softly.  

Joel gets between your legs entirely.  He moves slowly.  He lays his hardened boxers against your leather pants right where you throb and ache for him.   His lips land lightly in the hollow of your neck, and he sucks gently.  His hard-on only rolls into you once, sending a jolt of electricity through you before he cruelly takes it away as he works his way down your body.

He tenderly kisses your collarbone, then the lace border of your slutty top.  He lifts your shirt up and you pull it over your head, along with your bra.  His lips press between your breasts, his beard lightly tickling their soft skin.  He palms one breast while his nose nudges your other nipple and they both harden painfully.  He sucks just below your nipple and his hand trails down to your pants, grazing over your zipper, then engulfs your entire crotch. His flattened fingers rolling firmly but gently into your clit, over your pants.  He breathes heavily.  

You arch your back and he breathes, “God almighty,” before taking your other tit into his mouth.  

Then, he continues his slow journey down your body. He plants two open-mouth kisses on your stomach.  You’ve never been so wet or ready.  His kisses trail down below your belly-button, to your leather pants.  

All this instead of just kissing you on the mouth like you wanted. It feels like heaven, but it also doesn’t sit right.  

"It's not happening," you say. 

"What?"

"I'm not gonna fuck you." You're saying it to yourself more than to him. 

"Oh, I'm not gonna let you, sugar," he rumbles in a near-whisper.  Then, his nose digs into the leather between your legs. 

"Just wanna taste you. Make you forget everything else." 

He has both his thumbs on your mound and presses his mouth into just the right spot, a wave of pleasure washing over you, lifting your hips.  His mouth presses and consumes you slowly, but so hungrily that his beard would be hurting you if your pants weren’t on. You're already twitching.

He looks up and his tired eyes swallow you whole. 

You feel exposed.  You’re extremely aroused, and he feels far away.  You would much rather be making out, with his whole body wrapped around you, his hardness grinding into you. Still, you can't deny this feels very, very good. 

His fingers curl into the front of your waistband, and he looks up.   

“I'm not into that," you tell him. “Can you kiss me?”

“I’m about to.  Ever had it from a grown man?” he asks.  “Or hell, a woman?" he adds.  

You don't answer.

“You don’t know if you’re into it.”

He craves you badly - it’s all over his face.  You do want to see how hot he looks doing it.    

"You have thirty seconds to convince me," you tell him. 

"Only need ten."  You're throbbing so bad that might be all it takes, period.  

His thumbs unbutton you. He starts to unzip you and inhales sharply when he sees you're commando. You let him peel off your pants.  He does it slowly, looking at your pussy like a juicy burger the whole time.  He pauses to thumb you, like he can’t resist.  

“Fuck me,” he says when he feels how wet you are. He thumbs your clit with one hand while pulling your pants down with the other.    Then he finishes taking them off, prowls back toward you, arms bulging, and puts your thighs over his muscular  shoulders.  

It's surreal seeing Joel between your legs.  He feels your naked breast and hooks his other hand under your thigh, holding your hip loosely.  Tension is coiling deep in your core, throbbing, looming, tighter, more desperate than you knew it could be.  

The hand on your breast slips down your torso as he kisses your inner thighs, his beard scratching you lightly. He plants a kiss on your mound, opens his mouth, and licks his way down to your clit.  He’s careful not to drag his facial hair against your most sensitive skin.  He nudges the side of your clit with the bridge of his nose.  You throb and squirm, and his large hands on your hips hold you still.  He seals his mouth around your clit and the top half of your dripping seam.  He applies suction while his strong tongue languidly laps you.  

With a groan, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.  You want his cock.  You can hardly stand it.   

Between heavy breaths, you tell him, “Time’s up.  Come here.” 

But he keeps devouring your pussy.  You tangle your fingers in his hair and whine, “Joel, please” and he laps you more firmly, makes eye contact with you.  He flicks his tongue, sucks, drags his tongue down, plunges his tongue inside you and you moan. 

“Take your cock out,” you tell him.  You're aching to be filled.

He pulls his face away, shiny and red from the nose down, replacing it with his hand.  He pulls his boxers down.  The sight of it makes your temples weak.  He thumbs your clit and slips one, then two fingers inside you, making your head fall back as you clench around him. It’s not what you want, but it’s so much better than nothing.

"So tight," he marvels.   He gathers your wetness and lubes himself with you.  Not what you had in mind.  You at least want to feel his hardness against you.  You beg him upward toward you, but he won’t go.  

He strokes his stiff manhood as his head returns between your legs, his tongue tracing your folds up to your clit. You begin to squirm and he holds you down with one hand, a sight that makes you weak. He hums "Mmm" and moans into the apex of your folds. You're throbbing desperately, your hips move on their own, and he must feel it.  

"Come for me, sugar," he mumbles into your warmth.  Then he opens his jaw, firmly plants his lips, and digs in again. 

Your thighs tremble, threatening to close in on his cheeks.  You dig your head into the pillow.  With each pass of his tongue, each push of his lips, the tension in your core coils tighter until it can’t hold anymore and springs open all at once.   As your hips lift against his mouth, his lips press back and he swallows you hungrily. 

Pleasure blooms from your core in rhythmic pulses.  Your arms and thighs jerk randomly in unison, your abs lift you off the pillow.  You’re a prisoner to the pleasure, moving at its will, until your climax wanes.  The release floods your chest and you pry his head off you.  You finger his clean, messy hair.   

Joel flattens his fingers to take more wetness from you and you shudder with an aftershock.  He sits up on his knees and his brow furrows painfully.  You're too busy memorizing the look on his face to fully appreciate the way his ass clenches as he starts to come. Relief covers his face and he grunts as his hot load shoots onto your stomach.  

-

He pulls his boxers back up, sits back on his knees, and breathes.  His tan, masculine hands affectionately rub your thighs, and you watch his chest rise and fall.  Somehow he never looks vulnerable, even right after he comes. 

Joel steps away and comes back with tissues. He cleans you up and runs you a bath. 

"Good night, Trouble." His thumb affectionately brushes your temple and he kisses you on the head. Then, he goes to his own room.  

-

tysm for any reblogs/comments, I love to know what y'all are thinking 🫶

Tags: @jbcalway @daddy-din @angelmenace @silkiers @axshadows @legs0pen4dilfs @fan-fiction-floozy @grnherbs @icuminurbutt @lokanda @not-a-unique-snowflakewflake89 @likeanimagepassingby2 @witchy-jadda @mxtokko @missannwinchester @cannolighost @anxiousankylosaurus @montenegroisr @97cityy @lillyrob @billyloomiswhore4 @cloudroomblog @boysddontcry

#joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #toxicanonymity ☠️ #joel miller x you #joel miller #dbf!joel miller #tlou joel #one shot #joel miller fanfiction #dark!joel miller #toxicdbf #sluttified!joel #joel jacks off #PPCU jacks off #PPCU jacks off ☠️

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Feb 26th

~*~

1. hi, would like to ask if you know of any fic about the sunshot campaign after a failed golden core transfer. thank you :)

Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WWX & WN & WQ, JC & WWX, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Canon Divergence, Angst, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Dark, BAMF WWX, mentions of abuse, Not Everyone Dies au, XY doesn’t have a happy ending) IDK about failed transfer, but this is a Time Travel AU where WQ travels back to when she was performing the transfer & refuses to go through with it

~*~

2. Hello! I have been reading a fic where the elder Lan Wangji Hanguang Jun time travels into the past time in Cloud Recess during the time when his Younger self and Wwx were studying

And then wwx is all over the older Hanguang Jun fawning and fussing .

Fic like Vinegar Jug by Dandelion Sun .

Or something similar coded. @lostsoul234

💖 Hanguang-jun’s Husband by lilacevergarden (alittlemorecreative) (T, 6k, wangxian, time travel, bullying ur younger versions, jealous wwx)

💖 From the Future for the Past by friedchickenlord (G, 27k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, first love, love confessions, fluff & humor, denial, pining, happy ending)  

~*~

3. Tysm Mods for all you do to accommodate and keep up with these asks and recs. As well as all your efforts in keeping up this site. We all appreciate it very much.❤️❤️🥰

But, here’s the ittmf ask. I’m looking for longer fics, (30k+ words) for modern cultivation aus. I’m looking for something like the societies portrayed in Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! byKizuKatana or All Old Things are New Again byThe Feels Whale (miscellea) would be great, but just give me what you’ve got. I’m hungry for more, does anyone have any good ones? @omgnectarina

I feel like I win when I lose by so_shhy (T, 25k, wangxian, modern cultivation, Sports AU, Getting Together, some semblance of a plot, gently implied 3zun, obsessively observing someone from a distance is super romantic, LWJ pls use your words, really WWX cannot be blamed for obliviousness in this one, WC causing trouble, WN is precious, Fluff, Podfic Available)

Hear a song this deeply by so_shhy (T, 87k, wangxian, modern cultivation, music, kid fic, action/adventure, canon typical JGY behavior, slow burn, fluff & angst, happy ending)

🔒 close the door behind me, i'm leaving by thelastdboy (M, 3k, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, Madam Lan & LWJ, Modern Cultivation, Canon Divergence, POV LWJ, Character Study, Coming of Age, Past Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Neurodiversity, Autism Spectrum, Situational Mutism, Hurt No Comfort)

💙 this river runs to you by sundiscus (T, 53k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mutual Pining, Dragons, Literal Sleeping Together, Tender wound tending) Idk how close these are to what OP wants, but I've been reading a lot of Modern Cultivation fics recently, so here's my fave so far

something wicked by isabilightwood (T, 13k, wangxian, modern with magic, coffee shop AU, Animal Transformation Curse, Bunji, LWJ is a Talking Bunji, True Love’s Kiss, Specifically the Same Type of Love, Miscommunication, Pining, Jealous WWX, WWX attempts to set LWJ up on dates, LWJ is not having it, WWX is an empath but he’s bad at telling how people feel about him, Friends to Lovers, Moms and WCZ Live, blink and you’ll miss it implied 3zun, Werewolf Baker WN, extremely mild angst, Fluff, minor background WQ/JYL/JZX, Halloween)

The Curse Breaker by NebulusCharlie (Not rated, 34k, wangxian, Curses, soft and fluffy WangXian, past mistakes, school of Cultivation, modern with magic, Definitely a happy ending, not much angst)

Extracts from the diaries of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, relating to the case of Lan Zetian (Nov. 4 to Nov. 27) by Accidental_Child (T, 6k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Case Fic, Epistolaryish, Diary/Journal, WWX-centric, LWJ-centric, Slow Burn, (academic), Enemies to Lovers, academic rivals to Lovers, Mentions of Murder, mentions of abuse, mentions of assult)

And you must keep your soul/ Like a secret in your throat by athena_crikey (E, 48k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Vampire WWX, Cultivator LWJ, Case Fic, hur/comfort, Angst, Falling In Love, First Time, Reference to Torture)

那些年错过的大雨 (Nàxiē nián cuòguò de dàyǔ | The heavy rain we missed in those years) by PorcupineGirl (E, 29k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, Modern Cultiovation, Secret Identity, Wangxian Reunion, Dual Cultivation, Sorta kinda soulmates, but not a soulmate au, Consensual Non-Consent, Explicit Consent, Dom/sub, dom LWJ, sub WWX, Wangxian Have a Non-Con/Rape Kink, No Golden Core Transfer, discussion of mental health issues, WWX & LSZ reunion, Scheming NHS, NHS is Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Fic (except for how his fingerprints are all over it), Content Warnings in Chapter Notes, no lube we die like WWX's asshole)

~*~

4. I've read a few fics with this lovely concept, but may I have more recs with talisman-genius wwx? getting rich/admired as a result of that is a welcome bonus! thank you💚

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 762k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) The ultimate Talisman Genius WWX Gets Recognition fic

🧡 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It’s There) by H_Belle (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern Cultivators, Inventor WWX, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, YLLZ WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Pining LWJ, POV WWX, Background Wangxian Getting Together, Jiangs are only mentioned in the passing, inspired by a tumblr post)

💙🔒 Away from Trouble by Ilona22 (M, 15k, WangXian, Not JC Friendly, LWJ/WWX Get a Happy Ending) 

🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 46k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Time Travel Fix-It, JC Bashing, Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect Bashing Jiāng Family Bashing, YZY Bashing, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, Wooing, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, frankencanon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gūsū Lán Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad)

A Thousand Things by tickertape (M, 108k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX not adopted by Jiangs, developing friendships, miscommunication, misunderstangings, nightmares, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, WWX’s fear of dogs, slow burn, cultivation world bureaucracy)

~*~

5. this is for itmf! (no wips)

A. bottomji fics please

B. fics w lots of cuddling, soft fics (post- canon preferably, but anything is good!!)

5A)

do with me what spring does with cherry trees by jalpari (E, 34k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, No War AU, Bottom LWJ, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Idiots in Love, Touch-Starved LWJ)

this bed of love by YaYa (Terabyte_my_ass) (E, 4k, wangxian, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Tender Sex, super sensitive LWJ, Blink and you miss it humiliation kink, and a little bit of praise kink, First Time Bottoming, Bottom LWJ, POV LWJ, Coming Untouched)

Respectable, Decent, and Quiet by Theotrix (E, 5k, wangxian, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, repressed LWJ, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Loud Sex, Emotional release, How about instead of more rules you get your disciples some therapy)

leave all your love and your longing behind by ScarlettStorm (E, 143k, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Meet-Ugly, Panic Attacks, autistic lwj, neurodivergent wwx, the neighborhood asshole dog, if you’ve met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the asshole dog, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation)

To Know, To Be Known by cqlorphan (E, 38k, wangxian, PWP, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Cock Warming, Multiple Orgasms, Marathon Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Porn with Feelings, Aftercare, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, let lwj get railed agenda, LWJ Learns Some Things about himself, sex tears, gratuitous use of names, Begging, Kink Discovery, Post-Canon, Top LWJ, Bottom WWX, Switching, Light Bondage, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Let wwx get tied up but also let lwj railed, Repressed LWJ, Inventor WWX, Cock Rings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, begging, talking about feelings, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Dildos, Rimming, Edging) link in #15

~*~

6. my first time sending an ask! this is for the i’m in a mood for thing, i wanted fics where xue yang ends up in the burial mounds and/or becoming wwx’s protégé, like canon divergence where he isn’t like a full spawn of evil

no one ever said the single-plank bridge had to be walked alone by rosemu (T, 124k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Yílíng Wèi Sect au, Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Fluff, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Slow Burn, LWJ and WWX get to be Dads together, the healing power of homoerotic flute/guqin duets, Happy Ending) XY is sent to the Burial Mounds to spy for JGY, becomes WWX's student & switches sides, is still snarky without being evil

~*~

7. Hi! I’m in the mood for fics where WWX comes back in MXYs body but it’s absolute canon divergence from there. Thanks for all your help! @empress-of-elsewhere

Home isn't Where the Heart is. by Hauntcats (Not rated, 7k, wangxian) Technically already an AU before WWX came back, since LWJ noped out of the Lans while he was dead, but might still count for the request

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)

~*~

8. heyyy, do yall have a cross dressing comp.?? if not can u rec some (or put this in itmf?)

My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

Wei Wuxian, Who’s That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels)

we’ll get him falling for a stranger (or a catfish) by sweetlolixo (T, 38k, WangXian, Modern AU, College AU, Catfish AU, Eventual Happy Ending, Crossdressing WWX, Rich heir LWJ gets catfished by pretty WWX online that’s it that’s the fic, Pining LWJ, Fluff, Humor, lwj is a grade A+ SIMP, Identity Porn)

~*~

9. I've read a few fics with side plots of the lans learning about the culture of yunmeng and seeing all of the cultural differences, and was wondering if there were anymore fics like that? It could be any sect tbh I'm just super interested in the cultural differences between the sects. @reyoffuckingsunshine

~*~

10. do u have some outsider pov mdzs fics (especially if it's like from any of the juniors or lan xichen )

Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor) Juniors pov time travel fic

Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 59k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Canon Divergence, Fix-it, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions, LWJ's emotional repression, WWX giving everything as always, LXC realising sympathy is not support, LQR Being an Asshole) LXC POV

The Story of El-ahrairah and the Rabbits of Cloud Recesses by zylaa (G, 1k, wangxian, Crack, Fluff, literal fluff, it's all about the rabbits) Definitely outsider pov as it's from characters from outside MDZS canon

There's a Baby Loose in the Burial Mounds! by ScarlettStorm (G, 3k, LSZ is the best boy, even the ghosts think so, OCs, But they're all dead, What is a family?, the burial mounds, sentient burial mounds, don't worry wangxian are together and in love, that's just not relevant to anything that happens in this fic, radish truther agenda) POV various ghosts

❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, Mojo’s bookmark) LJY POC

pitfalls of greed by glitteringmoonlight (T, 3k, WangXian, POV Outsider, BAMF WWX, Kidnapping, Violence, YLLZ WWX, not exactly but the vibes are there, Post-Canon) POV random idiots

💖 Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing) LQR POV

Oh, my precious didi! by PrinceInuYasha (G, 7k, wangxian, High School AU, LXC's pov, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Some angst, Protective WWX, overprotective LXC, Rumors, Established Relationship, bad boy WWX, but not really) link in #11

~*~

11. Do u have some lan xichen or jin ling pov fics esp ones that are already not quite so popular on ao3

Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 59k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Canon Divergence, Fix-it, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions, LWJ's emotional repression, WWX giving everything as always, LXC realising sympathy is not support, LQR Being an Asshole) link in #10 LXC POV

Oh, my precious didi! by PrinceInuYasha (G, 7k, wangxian, High School AU, LXC's pov, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Some angst, Protective WWX, overprotective LXC, Rumors, Established Relationship, bad boy WWX, but not really)

climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (T, 15k, JC & JL & WWX, JC & JL, JC & WWX, JL & LSZ, JL & WWX, Post-Canon, Mutually Unrequited Forgiveness, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Family History, Generational Trauma, Discussion of Canonical Abuse, Awkward Attempts at Communication, mentions of past JC/WQ, Fairy is a good dog, Podfic by RevolutionaryJo)

a symbol to remind you that there's more to see by paperminds (T, 9k, JL & WWX, JC & JL, JC & WWX, canon-compliant, post-canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mild/Moderate Angst with happy ending, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Twin Idiots, Reconciliation, JL has too many uncles, JL deserves a hug, JL will save us all, excessive verbosity by yours truly)

To Love What Is Mortal by treemaidengeek (T, 22k, XiSong, Post-Canon, Grief/Mourning, Fluff and Angst, Healing, past 3Zun, past SongXiao, background WangXian, background SL & WN, & LSZ, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, [Podfic] To Love What Is Mortal by flamingwell)

Gentle Exile by rynleaf (E, 9k, XiSong, Post-Canon, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, References to Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Character Study, Epistolary, Post-Canon, Exploration, [PODFIC] Gentle Exile by flamingwell, semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))

🔒hills and rivers are waiting by LtLJ (G, 15k, WangXian, CQL canon, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, domestic fluff and angst, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, BAMF WWX)

~*~

12. I’m ITMF a fic where it’s a AITA au / where the characters are in a AITA scenario @zerokogane

Am I (Gusu Lan Cultivator, 24 M) the Asshole? by moonwaif (M, 41k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Oblivious LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Jealous WWX, Misunderstandings, No actual Wei Ying x Others, A "What If Wei Wuxian Figured Out His Own Feelings First?" AU, Hanguang-jun unlearns compulsory heteronormativity, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, give LWJ friends agenda)

~*~

13. hi! for itmf i wanted to ask, are there any fics where cssr's infidelity accusation gets addressed definitively? it's mentioned sometimes but there aren't ever consequences for yzy or the other gossipers, or wwx doesn't get to honor and take pride in his parents (I'll also take any angsty options where the the jfm-bastard assumption gets wwx in trouble) thank you!!

~*~

14. hey admins! i'm in the mood for any fics where wwx is depressed and sad, but people help him? i'm in an angsty mood, thanks!

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 53k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)

🔒 tuck me in by belovedmuerto (T, 4k, WangXian, bed sharing, Hurt/Comfort, mostly comfort, Pre-Slash, Getting Together, Nightmares, expressions of care)

~*~

15. hi! if you dont mind me asking, what is the mdzs/the untamed fic with the best smut you ever read? any kind of fic is fair game

Make me by anaphoricae (E, 180k, wangxian, Modern, Dom/sub, Dominant WWX, Submissive LWJ, Friends With Benefits, Pining while fucking, Co-workers, Praise Kink, Touch-Starved LWJ, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Nipple Play, Mutual Masturbation, Overstimulation, POV WWX, In which I trick you into reading about Wangxian falling in love by making you think it's all just a smut fic, Brief Mentions of WWX/Others and LWJ/Others, Bondage, Blindfolds, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Flogging, Chair Bondage, Aftercare, Edging, Jealous LWJ, Facials, Come as Lube, and also lube as lube, Cock & Ball Torture, But it's mild, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Face Slapping, Choking, Subspace, Couch Sex, LWJ sitting on WWXs lap agenda, Biting, Spanking, LWJ having his cheeks pinched as a treat, So much RESPECT and TRUST this is actually way softer than the tags make it seem, Bottom LWJ, POV LWJ, Rope Bondage, Office Sex, Rope Bunny LWJ, Spit As Lube, LWJ's canonical habit of keeping (stealing) Wei Wuxian's things, Intercrural Sex, Light Angst, Blow Jobs, Snowballing, Service Submission, Lingerie, LWJ's brain going BRRRRR, Jealous WWX, Cock Rings, Cock Warming, Collars, Power Play, Orgasm Control, LWJ and WWX's inability to pretend they're not actually madly in love with each other, slight degradation [Affectionate], Miscommunication, Impact Play, Rigger WWX, BDSM fetish party, Public Blow Jobs, Rope Suspension, Cuddlefucking, Fluff, LWJ and WWX being boyfriends without realizing they're boyfriends, Porn with Feelings, Body Worship) lots of bdsm and stuff so u might wanna check out the tags

To Know, To Be Known by cqlorphan (E, 38k, wangxian, PWP, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Cock Warming, Multiple Orgasms, Marathon Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Porn with Feelings, Aftercare, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, let lwj get railed agenda, LWJ Learns Some Things about himself, sex tears, gratuitous use of names, Begging, Kink Discovery, Post-Canon, Top LWJ, Bottom WWX, Switching, Light Bondage, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Let wwx get tied up but also let lwj railed, Repressed LWJ, Inventor WWX, Cock Rings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, begging, talking about feelings, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Dildos, Rimming, Edging)

🔒sleep in your bed by copperwings (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Fluff, Humor, Smut, Attempt at Humor, Boys Kissing, Emotional Sex, Anal Sex)

Fentao-laoshi’s Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures by occultings (microcomets) (E, 31k, wangxian, canon divergence, pining while fucking, friends with benefits, first time, cloud recesses study arc, practice kissing, sharing a bed, jealousy, getting together, confessions, happy ending)

~*~

16. Hi! This is for ITMF ✨

I'm looking for two kind of fics:

A) Cloud Recesses Arc where WWX and LWJ are together soon, Happy ending pls. I like longer fics, but shorts ones are OK. 🤗💕

B) Travel time fics where WWX (I prefer WWX but if it's LWJ it's ok too) travel in time to fix everything and save everyone. I love this kind of fics. Please give me all you have. Happy endings, pls. 💕😉

Thanks for everything!! Ily 🤟😊 @wangxiansgirl

16A)

❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, wangxian, canon divergence, political marriage, dysfunctional family, implied/referenced self-harm, hurt/comfort, fix-it, implied/referenced suicide, BAMF WWX, eventual happy ending, not YZY friendly, not LQR friendly (kind of), Mojo’s bookmark)

16B)

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon) LWJ stuck in a time loop

Regrets by antebunny (G, 38k, wangxian, miscommunication, misundersandings, time travel fix-it, temporary character death, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort) Both LWJ & WWX time travel

Here With Me by iamwish (T, 58k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel Fix-It, No war AU, Not YZY Friendly, Somebody Lives/Not everyone dies, Established Relationship) WWX time travels

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) WWX time travels

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, slow burn, getting together, first time, pining, pining while fucking, burial mounds settlement days, angst w happy ending) LWJ time travels

🔒 Hope series by RoseThorne (M, 59k, wangxian, WIP, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death, Resentment, Anger, Explosions, Yīn Iron, Grief/Mourning, POV WWX)

Wish Me Luck by Starlight1395 (Not rated, 164k, wangxian, time travel, fix it, PTSD) It's the perfect angsty/cute combo time travel fix-it fix! Also fits #16A

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

~*~

17. Hola! Nice to meet you ☺️

I want to ask for some fics in ITMF. Lately I'm reading a lot of Wangxian fics where they kiss or confess in Xuanwu cave or Gusu cave. I like when they have their happy ending, long fics better. (I'm happy with mpreg and omegaverse too).

Thx!!

💙🔒 Wish I could forget the taste of your skin and the feel of your hands pinning me down by KizuKatana (E, 63k, wangxian, WQ & WWX & WN, modern w/ cultivation, getting back together, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, case fic, pining)

hope dangling by a string by KouriArashi (M, 70k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC & LWJ, JC & WWX, Alternate Canon, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Psychic Bond, Telepathy, Communication, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, jiang family feels, Lan Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical political bullshit, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing)

Quartet series by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k wangxian, JZX & JC & WWX & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, WWX's canonical comfort with the prospect of his own death, Hurt/Comfort, JZX makes friends, Eventual Happy Ending, some unhappiness along the way, Canon-Typical Violence, JC keeps his golden core, JYL Lives, WQ Lives, Minor Character Death, Kissing, WWX Lives, no golden core transfer, JZX Lives, Fix-It, WN Lives, Weeping, temporary major character death, Murder Road Trip, Implied Sexual Content, Sunshot Campaign, Nonbinary NHS, Telepathy, platonic group soulbonding, Family, Found Family, POV WWX, Podfic Available, Siblings Sworn Brothers, aroace JZX, Happy Ending, all the Wen remnants live, POV JZX, JGY is less murdery, Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, JZX's social awkwardness, Poison) the first part starts with the Xuanwu cave and confessions/realisations.

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

[hardlyinteresting]

“you need help.” “no, i need you.” From the prompts list please. And if you're comfortable with it would you write it about the reader being injured and kind of out of it and asking for Hotch

Just you

Warnings: injury, concussion, mentions of blood (non-graphic), stitches

Aaron has seen his fair share of injuries. He's spent time in hospital himself, and sitting vigil at the bedsides of others. His job is dangerous, and more often than not, it's gorey. He's seen blood, and burns, bruises, and contusions. But this is the first time he's ever seen someone so out of it with a concussion.

You're sitting on the back step of the ambulance when he arrives, trying to get away from the paramedics, and worming your way out of the holds Prentiss and Morgan are trying to keep on you. "I'm fine!" He hears you insist as you try to stand again. Your eyes widen when you set your sights on him walking toward you, and he can't help but wince as your head jerks away from the medic who has been trying to stitch the wound on your forehead with a butterfly bandage. "Aaron tell them I'm fine!"

He looks towards one of the medics who explains that you're definitely concussed and the cut on your forehead will need help to close. They're kind and professional as they go over your injuries though he can hear the undertone of mild frustration as you fight to get closer to him.

"You need help," Aaron tells you, letting you take his hand hoping that being next to you might help calm you enough to get you patched up.

You pout, your brows furrowing as you frown and it makes your laceration bleed again. You're holding his hand in both of yours now as if you're afraid of him disappearing. "No, I need you".

"I'm right here," he nearly smiles. Morgan slowly slips away leaving room for Hotch to sit next to you. "The sooner you get patched up, the sooner we can get home".

"We should all get Thai food," you say matter of factly. Emily laughs, now moving away as Morgan had a moment ago, "if I had known I just had to offer you food, we would've been out of here twenty minutes ago".

You know she's only teasing, but Hotch still asks her to go meet up with the rest of the team getting ready to leave. He squeezes your hand as your eyes slip shut watching as you blink yourself awake. Silently he does the math, making a mental note of what times he'll need to set alarms for tonight, very serious about following concussion protocol and making sure he's up to monitor your symptoms.

With your butterfly stitches applied, he guides you to the waiting SUV making sure you're settled before he shuts the door. He trusts JJ to keep an eye on you while he drives, incredibly glad this case was local.

You're more yourself again by the time you've collected your things from the office and made it home. Everyone accepted your rain-check for Thai food with good humour and you're more than ready to just flop the moment you get through the door.

Aaron encourages you to do just that. He helps you change into your pyjamas when moving around too much leaves your head pounding. Once he's changed himself he disappears only to return with a painkiller and a glass of water for you. He seems relieved when you reach out with fairly steady hands to take them.

"Do you need anything else?" He asks making sure you're comfortable.

"Just you".

Request Guidlines | Request here! | Masterlist

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader #response #ask #fluffy prompts #prompts

[covetyou]

some good friend - pt. 1

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3

pairing: Tim Rockford x Soft Dom!Sex Worker!f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: pegging, anal fingering, praise kink, mild glove kink, very mild feminization, masturbation, Tim has body image issues and a bit of an identity crisis, kind of coming untouched, sex work, comfort word count: 7k summary: Nerves were coiling in his belly in a way they typically only did at the end of a big case. There was no judge or jury here, no sentence, no surprise acquittal. There was just your door, and the promise of everything that lay beyond it. And it made him nervous.

A/N: finally, my boy Tim sees the light of day. I've been working on this for a while, and it's been nice to try something a little different. I hope you like it (and someone, anyone, please, stop me from making this a 3 part series too late, it's going to be a series)

divider by @saradika-graphics follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

Everything burns. His lungs, his legs, his goddamned feet.

He wasn't made for this. Not any more. His fucking shoes definitely weren't made for this - a fact made more and more obvious with every harsh, sharp, slap of his soles against the ground. Gone were the days of intense foot chases. They'd long since been replaced with hours spent at his desk, in interview rooms, searching the stacks in the archive room. The only saving grace was at the very least he was accustomed to low light - the dimly lit rooms he frequented coming in handy now as he thuds along in the semi-darkness, chasing after someone who is more shadow than man.

The drizzle of a cold October day certainly isn't helping either. He's coated in a fine mist of rain and soaked through to the marrow. His shoes - these fucking shoes - skid on the wet road, threatening injury with each turn of a corner. Every intake of breath blooms pain in his chest, each gasp seeming to draw in more water than air. That is, of course, if the biting chill of the wind doesn't swipe it all out of his mouth first.

He's drowning. Drowning and suffocating and burning all in one, but he can't stop. He can't will his legs to stop, even through the burn. Stopping means he loses, and he cannot lose. Not again. Not with this case.

But then, he turns a corner and the shadow is gone, faded into the darkness of an unlit alley, and out of his grasp once again.

Shit.

The ache is settled well into his bones by the time he gets home in the early hours of the morning. His tie sits damp in his jacket pocket - discarded at the roadside in a fit of rage and stomped into the wet ground, only to be picked up and pocketed a moment later. He liked that tie. His holsters tug uncomfortably at his shoulders, the twist of his body as he was running having shifted them to where they now pinch uncomfortably at his underarms. He can't wait to discard it all, to take off the whole damn lot - and these fucking shoes - and pretend for just one moment that he's not who he is.

So, he begins to shed the skin of Detective Tim Rockford.

The shoes go first. The jacket second. And then he removes his gun, stashing it in its case where it belongs and throwing his holster at his closet, where he'll no doubt struggle to find it again tomorrow. The burning sear of a shower is the last thing left to rid himself of the title that hangs over him, but instead he walks to his office. He needs to be Detective for just a moment longer.

It's tidier and more comfortable in here than it has any right to be. Dark wood, soft leather, neat folders, and blank papers. Of course, it's neat because he's rarely here to use it, preferring to use the space given to him downtown where a plaque sits on his desk telling all and sundry that Detective Tim Rockford works here. Here, in this room, he can be a little less Detective and a little more him.

He flops heavily into his chair, a move he immediately regrets when he feels the relief of taking the weight off his feet. How he'll ever get up from here, he doesn't know. Maybe he'll sleep here. Halfway between Detective and himself, stuck in some weird limbo where he is both and neither all at once. That'll lead to some good dreams.

Tim thinks of you. This was the place for that kind of thing, after all. This office where he is himself and someone else, the perfect parts of a person to be liaising with someone like you. Because that's what it was with you, a liaison. Nothing more, nothing less. And you, everything that you were, were his last chance for some good news before he peeled back the rest of the Detective and became himself for a few blissful hours.

Pulling a card from a drawer, he flips it in his fingers once, then twice before tapping it on his desk. You'd given it to him on his last visit - your address and number emblazoned on the front, both things he no longer needed to see to know, and a small list of services on the other side. Services that he ignored when you'd first pointed them out to him with a wink, but that he'd since spent a long time mulling over and, on occasion, searching in an incognito window of his browser.

With a heavy sigh, he picks up the phone, dialing your number from memory, and waits for you to pick up. Anyone else would be furious with a 4am phonecall, but not you. For a while he thought it was what suited your work best - common sense, and his years on the job, had taught him that illicit activities so often were better suited to darkness than daylight. But he'd seen clients leave your studio in the middle of the day on more than one occasion. No, by this point he simply suspected you didn't sleep at all.

A click of the call connecting, a soft breath down through the line, and there you are, the lilt of your voice ringing through his ear like music.

"Detective Rockford, how nice of you to call. What can I interest you in this fine morning?"

He pinches his nose, card still gripped tightly between his middle fingers. You did this every time, no matter the time of day or night. You were always on, always ready to try to rile him and get into his bloodstream. He'd admonished you once, told you he was only trying to do his job and he expected you to do the same. When you told him you were doing your job, Tim had to admit you got him there. You were both professionals, just in very, very different ways. From then on, he'd learned to appreciate it. Even if it did make him ache sometimes in ways he thought best to ignore.

"You got any news for me?"

You scoff down the phone. A light sound, but he can picture you rolling your eyes with it anyway. "Always so charming, Detective. Diving straight in without any foreplay at all. You can do better than that. Sweeten me up a little before you -"

"Please."

He sounds desperate in a way you haven't heard before. A year into your arrangement and he'd never sounded so bone tired and stressed out. You can even hear the pinch in his brow over the phone, the wrinkles there getting deeper and deeper the longer you knew him.

"It's been quiet, Detective. I doubt I have the names you're after, but a few whispers have been floating around. The case with the cat still causing you problems?"

From the heavy sigh he gives you can tell it's not what he was after, but that it is, indeed, still causing him problems.

"Well, I heard that..."

And so, you divulge your secrets, secrets that aren't really yours to have or to give, but you give them anyway. Whispers and names softly delivered down the phone line where he scribbles them down on a blank sheet of paper, careful not to indent the pages below it.

The pen clatters to the desk when you finish. You both know you haven't given him what he needs, but if Tim's honest with himself he isn't always sure what he needs from you any more. Though, he knows what he wants. Yes, he's frequently made painfully aware of what he wants.

"Anything you need?" he asks, his voice sounding tight with frustration. You can't blame him any more than you can hold back the laugh that trickles from your lips.

"Nothing right now. Here I was thinking that was my line anyway, Detective. The things I could do for you, if you'd let me."

Tim's eyes are drawn to the card again, now face up on the desk beside the scrawl of information you'd just given him. Truth be told, your services are as emblazoned in his mind as the details on the front of the card. Sometimes, like right now, he could barely get that list out of his mind long enough to think straight.

That's the moment when, after a long day at the end of an even longer week, part Detective but part just him, he gives in to what he's been fighting himself for for almost a year, and clears his throat.

"Like what? What... what exactly could you do for me?"

You're caught between surprise and glee, briefly straightening where you lounge in your chair. Softening back into the plush fabric, you dance a finger across your lower lip, wry smile tugging at your mouth as you think of the very many things you could do for him.

"Oh, Detective Rockford. I thought you'd never ask."

Nerves were coiling in his belly in a way they typically only did at the end of a big case. There was no judge or jury here, no sentence, no surprise acquittal. There was just your door, and the promise of everything that lay beyond it.

And it made him nervous.

He was in half a mind to walk away, but it was too late. His knuckles had already rapped against the wood, and you were already flicking the latch on the other side, readying to let him in.

When you do he's stunned, just like he always is when he sees you. This time you're half naked, a thin robe draped over your shoulders and left untied at the front. Beneath it you're wrapped in soft mesh lingerie, your nipples visible through the fabric as you beckon him inside.

The space - your studio - was a simple office unit in an undesirable part of town, but you made it work. As funny as it felt to admit, it was familiar to him now, and there was a comfort in that that was already easing the swell of nerves in his body. It wasn't always this way, of course, that first visit being eye opening both figuratively and literally. Furniture and furnishings that were odd were now somewhat normal, and the soft, rich, scent that permeated the room was one that he now associated only with you and this place you existed within. It was a smell too, he notices, that is so much stronger today than it has ever been on any of his previous visits, and he breathes in deeply, both to savor it and to calm the last of the nerves vibrating in his core.

When you shut the door, closing off the world outside, you stand before him again, looking a picture of sultry confidence as you size him up. This wasn't something that was new. You often stood there, letting your gaze wander up and down his body, lingering in places that made him flush red as you taunted him with flirty quips he'd ignore. This time is no different, and he finds himself mesmerized by the way you toy with the ties on your robe as you eye him, fingers gliding up and down the fabric.

"Are you here on your business, or mine, Detective?" you say with a smile, drawing his gaze from your fingers to your face. It was a long running joke, something you said each and every time he visited you here, despite the answer always being the same. But today, finally, it would be different.

Tim rolls his eyes, just as he always does, but instead of replying with a curt mine, he lets a smile pull at his lips instead. "Yours."

"Music to my ears. And you still want to do this? You're ready?"

You both knew that had a double meaning. In the literal physical sense, he knows he's as ready as he could possibly be. But he still takes a moment to check in with himself, to see if going through with all of it is something that he still wants. If those whispers down the phone, whispers that had quickly turned from flirty promises to guidance, to gasps, to relief, were what he still wanted. Would it be worth it, or was it a momentary blip of weakness and want? But then he remembers that relief once again, the soothing of that ache like sitting down off of pained feet, and can only imagine how much better that will feel here, with you, in this room. He's ready.

Tim nods, prompting you to take another step forward. The smell isn't the room at all, he notices. It's you. The fragrance clinging to your hair or your skin, he's not sure, but so much stronger each time you move.

"Good," you say on your slow approach. Barely a step from him you reach out, tugging on his jacket and straightening his tie before letting your palm rest on his chest. The soft stroke of your fingers does nothing to soothe the rapid hammering of the muscle pumping in his chest cavity, but you suppose it wasn't meant to. You wanted him excited and desperate for it. He'd already shown you how beautiful he could be for you over the phone - all whines and whimpers and yes ma'am's. Now you wanted the real thing.

"Why don't you get all of this off for me."

Before now, Tim had wondered how you started these things - how you went from 0 to seemingly 100 with clients to get them in through the door and out in the allotted time frame. He hadn't expected it to be so quick, or so easy. Maybe he just hadn't expected himself to be so quick, or so easy, but he's tugging at his tie before you even move away to settle against your desk with your ankles crossed.

"That's it, Detective," you prompt, letting your robe slip from your shoulders and pool at your elbows as he stuffs the tie into his pocket. "I want to see all of you."

And he wants you to see all of him. He wants to take off everything that makes him Detective Tim Rockford right in front of you, and have you take control, tell him what to do, make his mind blissfully empty. So, first he kicks off his shoes, then he takes off his jacket. Slowly, his shirt is peeled from his body, the nerves racketing up again with each button. He doesn't look how he did 10 years ago, he was less lean and more soft than he had ever been, the middle aged spread proving to be a fact of life he couldn't escape.

You know what he's thinking as his fingers stall on the last few buttons of his shirt. You'd dealt with these insecurities before, in countless other clients. You weren't immune to similar thoughts either. But, he'd told you he wanted to let go, to give up control with you, so you nod to the remainder of his clothes and prompt again.

"Come now. Let me see."

Tim's fingers work quickly over the last buttons and pull the shirt from his broad frame just as quickly, giving no time for the nerves to take root. You voice the sound of your smile the moment his shirt is discarded and he looks up to see your appraisal. Each button had drawn your eyes down his chest, to the soft swell of his belly, and further still to the growing bulge in the front of his pants. Tall and broad and beautiful, the mass of man in front of you had the power to catch your eye even fully clothed, but now, shirtless with the promise of more on the horizon, you couldn't ignore the thrill at seeing so much of his tanned skin, littered with freckles and a soft smattering of hair.

His belt is unbuckled and off, and his fingers are pulling open the button of his pants and his fly. He doesn't look at you again. He can't right now - if he does he'll choke up and stop himself, feeling entirely inadequate offering this body of his to you. Pushing down his pants, down past soft thighs and strong calves, he steps out of them, taking his socks with them with each step, before nervously scratching at his belly.

Only then, does he look back up at you. You're enraptured, and have already pushed back off your desk, circling him to look at every inch of his body. You'd dimmed the lights slightly, as you always did for client sessions, but even in the soft lamplight he looked stunning. Your fingers trace the swell of his bicep, across his shoulder and the jut of his shoulder blade. A shudder runs down his spine as your fingers dance across it, down to the dimples at his back and over his hip before you round him again where your fingertips rest on his soft belly and the trail of hair there.

"You've been hiding all of this from me for how long, Detective?" you whisper, letting your fingers glide down further and further with each word. "It makes me wonder what else you're hiding."

Tim's cock twitches in his boxers, the thin fabric straining more and more with each passing moment under your gaze. He'd never felt so seen, so appraised, before. The way you looked at him was so easy, the shine in your eye so bright as he peeled back each layer.

"You still want this?"

It's what he said he'd wanted. Days ago now, but he'd said he wanted it and he did. He does. He swallows thickly, desperate to get moisture back into his mouth, nodding a croak of a yes.

At that, you slide the tip of your finger into the waistband of his boxers and pull, stretching the elastic a fraction before releasing, pinging it sharply against his skin.

"Then get these off too, Detective."

His boxers are on the floor a second later, his cock springing free semi-hard between his legs. Raising your hands to your face, you gasp in faux shock, hiding your very real delight behind your hands as you take in his entire naked form.

"Oh, Detective Rockford. I'm disappointed. After all this time you've been hiding that from me?" you gasp, and while Tim can't help but roll his eyes, his cock betrays him and stiffens even more at your words. You'd been through it all with him. Your services, yes, but also specifically what he wanted from you, some of which you'd discovered together on the phone that morning. This was one of those things - a thing you'd discovered on a whim, but something you both knew he would like before the words left your lips. There was a reason he was asking you for this and nobody else - Tim knew the specific brand of sordid you dealt in and, more than anything, he trusted you. Unfortunately for him, you planned on keeping exactly to your word from that call and, guiding your fingers down his bare chest, you tease closer and closer to his length.

"Tsk. Such a shame I won't be playing with it today."

Tim groans, a gasp of a thing he cuts short with a pinch of his lips. He's frowning again too, but nods, knowing that what he came here for wasn't that, but also very aware of the weight of the words you used. Not today, but not never.

Then, your robe is off and you're guiding him to the bed, where he lowers himself and leans back, watching your form as it retreats into the other room. He looks down, down at the body you'd just spent minutes looking at and enjoying, and wonders what you see that he doesn't. All he knows is he's trusted your word for as long as he's known you, and it's no different now. Whatever you see in him, you at least believe it to be true, and that alone makes it easier for him to believe himself. Before he can figure much or anything else out, you're sauntering back into the room.

In your hands you hold a few things. None of them should be surprising to him, but he still sucks in a sharp breath when he sees it - the strap you'd picked out just for him. You'd told him about it over the phone, said that you had the perfect one for him, that you could picture him beneath you taking it, moaning and shaking as you fucked him, and now there it was, exactly as you described. This was never something he felt able to ask for with anyone else, his ex-wife especially. It's true he was always married more to his job than to her, but even in the privacy of their own bedroom he had secrets and wants he could never share with her - she made that much clear early on. With you, he didn't even need to mention it first for you to suggest it to him, didn't even need to feel the heat of shame in his cheeks as he struggled to find the words for what he wanted, because there you were already with all the answers.

You settle everything beside him, letting him see the soft, slender, curve of the dildo up close for the first time, and pass him a bottle of water. Tim takes it, grateful that once again that it was another thing he didn't have to ask for, and cracks open the lid, taking a deep gulp of the cold liquid before setting it out of the way. Another day he'd wonder how it got to this - how on earth Tim Rockford got so used to suffering in silence that even thirst wasn't something he'd remedy until he was desperate. But, right now all he knows is the heat of your body and the smell of your skin as you kneel next to him on the bed, looking down at him with a smirk on your lips.

"Usually I ask people how they'd like it," you whisper, stroking gently down his neck, "but I think we both know you'd like it on your knees, Detective." You twirl your finger in the air, signalling for him to move, and like the good little thing he is, he shifts onto his hands before crawling forward slightly to perch on all fours on the bed.

You think he looks glorious; he feels so exposed - entirely naked for you while you're draped in that thin mesh he can see right through. He doesn't want to think about how he looks like this, on his knees with his ass on total display, his cock hanging low and, already, starting to leak precum.

Blunt nails drag down his back, softly scraping down his ass cheeks and the backs of his thighs. He shudders. You can see his cock where it bobs between his legs, and his balls where they hang softly just beneath the cleft of his cheeks. If he were a different client, maybe you'd give in and drag your nails across the soft flesh of them too, cup them in your palm and give them a firm squeeze, but you resist. Whatever this is doing to you, you'll deal with later. For now, this is for him and that desperate man, the Detective, who had all but begged you for information down the phone.

Grabbing at the small selection of things you'd dumped next to him, you get ready. Tim watches, eager eyes looking as you pull a black nitrile glove down your hand and snap it around you wrist, wiggling your fingers at him when you spot his gaze.

"I can tell you're excited," you say with a look down to his ass where his cock bounces hard against his belly with a tense of his muscles. "You're so ready for this too, aren't you? You've been waiting so long..."

Guiding your ungloved hand down his ass, you squeeze, gripping the flesh and pulling him apart, exposing him to your gaze. "Very pretty."

Tim huffs a laugh, not believing for a second that he is pretty at all, let alone like this, or there.

"What? You don't think you're pretty, all bent over and exposed for me, Detective? I'd argue you've never looked better."

"Right. Is this how you get all your information? Your clients must tell you all sorta things, huh? Vulnerable like this."

A swift, sharp slap is delivered to his right ass cheek, making him gasp as you tut and soothe the sting with your palm. "Ah-ah, Detective, you're off the clock. No work talk. We're here on my business now, not yours."

"Fu- Never off the clock, not in my line of work."

"And that's exactly why you're here, sweetie."

"...Yes ma'am."

There's a small delighted giggle that you just can't hold back, a sound that makes him flush, before you speak again. "Polite and pretty. Are you ready for me, Detective?"

It's then he realizes that your hand hasn't stopped its slow, steady caress of his ass cheeks, pushing and pulling him apart as you watch the tension leave his shoulders. He nods, trying not to brace himself for whatever is coming first, not hearing the click of a lube bottle through the blood rushing in his ears, but definitely feeling the cool trickle of it when it drips onto his asshole.

"That's it," you say, soothing with your ungloved hand, as your gloved one comes down to stroke the pucker of his ring. "We both know you're familiar with this feeling, Detective. Are you going to let me in here?"

The wet swipe of your finger between his cheeks almost feels like it could be cool, cold tongue with how you swirl it around and around his asshole. He tries not to curl his toes, and manages not to until he can't help but beg, a small please falling softly from his plush lips, and you immediately push, sinking the tip of your finger into his ass.

Tim groans, gripping the sheets in an effort not to surge forward and away from the gentle probe of your finger.

"Make all the noise you need to, Detective."

"Fuck."

Your finger steadily sinks into him, drawing out and in to collect more lube as you drizzle it onto his hole.

"Remember how this feels?"

He remembers. Remembers the crackle of your voice over the phone line as you told him to finger his ass. How his hands had scrambled to turn on speakerphone, the other still wrapped around his cock, jerking weakly as you whispered filthy encouragement down the line. Before even that, he remembers the nights spent in his own bed, concocting his own fantasies while he fucked his fist and fingers in tandem.

Except, your fingers feel so much different from his own, can reach places his cannot, and he's groaning with his head hung low between his shoulders before you're even knuckle deep.

Curling this way and that, you feel him from the inside out. Soothing him with a hand on his back, you can feel the deep breath he takes just as the tip of your finger collides with a spot inside him he was all too familiar with, massaging back and forth until he's a groaning mess.

"Oh, well that's a pretty sound, Detective. It sounds to me like you want another."

If he closes his eyes, he can see it, see the black of your gloved hand curled into a fist as your index finger stretches his hole. He can see already as you pull out a little, unfurl another finger, and slide it next to the first, ready to push into him again.

And he takes it, letting out a shuddering gasp, as your fingers fuck into his ass once again, scissoring in him before pushing down and beginning a slow curl against that spot again.

"There. That was easy. I think someone is enjoying this quite a bit, aren't you, Detective?"

There's no denying it, he is. The feel of your hand making him want to buckle into a heap on the bed already and you'd barely even started.

"Yeah. It's - ah fuck - it's good. That's - uh - not fair."

You'd been curling and prodding against his prostate as he tried to talk, making him garble words at you as you watch his cock get more and more engorged between his thighs. "What's not fair?" you ask, with a firmer press down into the spot, and you relish in the deep gravelly moan that grumbles from his chest, forcing his elbows to drop down onto the mattress.

When his hips buck forward, you place a steadying hand on his back, stroking soothing circles with your bare fingers over the dimples in his skin whilst your gloved ones curl into the spot again and again. Part of him is longing to reach down and grab his cock, to jerk it and come all over his fist with your fingers buried in his ass, but that's not what he's here for. Each time he opens his eyes he's made aware of what he's here for by the strap that still lays next to him. If he comes too soon, he's scared that'll be it over, the relief he was really seeking from you still totally out of reach by his own failure. He couldn't, wouldn't, fail at this too.

"Just look at you, Detective. You're getting so wet already." He is. He can feel it. His cock is dripping, beads of precum collecting on his tip and threatening to make a mess of the sheets below. Nodding and groaning and squeezing his eyes shut seem to be all he can do already, feeling like a total mess of a man with your voice like honey trickling into his ear. "So good. I think you can take one more finger. That's it, just one more. Good. Good boy."

He preens, back arching with the praise, cock definitely dripping onto the sheets now, three of your fingers curling and thrusting into his ass. He throbs, the ache of arousal thrumming through him with no relief, just building and building and building with nowhere to go, because you don't let it. You control it, each press of your fingers still so achingly slow that it can make him drip and ache but never explode.

A thin sheen of sweat is coating his body, his legs shaking, forehead pressed into the cool sheets, groans falling wantonly from his mouth, by the time you gingerly pull your fingers from him. That in itself feels like a relief, he thinks. Even though he's still painfully hard at least, for one moment, he's not being worked up and up to an edge you won't quite let him over just yet.

But the strap beside him is gone when he looks up, pushing up on shaky hands to look around for you again. Now, it sits on your hips, straps pulled taught over the mesh of your lingerie. You're pulling a condom over the length of dildo, rolling it down to the base, your glove discarded somewhere he can't see. His mouth is dry again, so he reaches for the water, swallowing deeply, wiping away an errant drop from the scruff of his beard.

He can't stop looking. Between your face, your beautiful face, your scantily clad body, your hands and those fingers that had just been inside him, the cock between your legs. He's entranced. It takes a gentle hand on his shoulder for him to notice you're talking to him.

"Look at you, Detective," you hum down to him, and all he can think is Yes. Look at me. Please. Here he was, stripped bare as a man could be, seen by you in ways he'd never been seen. And that name - a taunt coming from you that he longed for rather than loathed. Each tease of Detective a reminder that with you he could be both and neither all at once, just as he always was.

He reaches for you then. Slowly. Delicately. Fingers bridging the gap between you. Usually you'd step back, move away from grasping hands when permission wasn't granted. But, you let him touch, his fingers resting on your mesh covered hip and stroking you. It's the first time he's ever touched you, and it's so soft. You're so soft.

"You're ready for it, aren't you?" you ask, your eyes lazily dragging down to the strap between your legs where his follow.

Without word, and avoiding the mess already splattered on the sheet, he moves back to all fours, his hand leaving you cold. Slicking more lube across the strap, you kneel behind him, palming his ass with both hands, rubbing soft circles down his thighs as you gently rut against the crevasse of his ass.

"Do you trust me, Detective?"

It's a stupid question - stupid because you already know the answer, and so does he.

"You're kidding, right?" he says in disbelief, looking around to see the coy smile on your face.

"Humor me."

"Of course I do."

With his eyes still on you, you press forward, hand steadying the dildo to slip the tip into his slick asshole.

"Oh. That's it. Look at me when I fuck your ass. That feels so good doesn't it?"

Tim pants, nodding as you bear forward. The strap is barely thicker than your three fingers, but his rim still stretches and pulls as you breach him, slowly, steadily, until the entire length is buried in his ass.

"There we go. That's it. I'm all the way in. You take an ass fucking so well, Detective. Are you sure you haven't done this before?" With another roll of your hips he's gasping again, dropping his face to the sheet. The heat of his thighs are against yours and you know, you just know, that his cock is straining, his balls begging to empty already.

"There we are. That's it. You can take it. Oh, good boy. You like that don't you. You like being a good boy."

With his cheek is pressed to the mattress, you can see nothing but the pinched look of ecstasy on his face. It's boiling in his veins too, the heat spreading up his back and burning his cheeks. If he opens his eyes he'll see you, looking down with intent at his ass as you slowly roll your hips into him, and the thought alone makes him groan, brings him so close to coming that he's scrambling for purchase on the bed again, desperate gasps rattling out of him. The cloying scent of you is all over him - stuck in his lungs like molasses, each deep breath in of you coinciding with each slap of your hips against his ass until desperation turns to pleading.

"Please. P-please. Fuck. Please."

"Please what?" you say, looking around at him. And that's when you see his cock, angry and weeping, splattering cum all over your sheets. You hadn't felt him come yet, there'd been no tensing of his muscles or twitching of his cock, just a steady stream of precum dripping from him like a leaky faucet. "Oh, look at that. You're making quite the mess, aren't you, sweetie? Are you going to clean that up? Hm? Or will I have to bill the city for my laundry?"

"Oh, fu-," he pants, and you feel a shiver trickle down his back at the empty threat, his palms pressing harder into the mattress beneath him as his shoulders draw back. He's going to come. You don't even need to move, you could just talk to him in that voice of yours, call him a good boy and tell him how dirty he is and he'd be gone, skyrocketing to a place he'd never been and making a glorious mess of everything.

"What was that?" You slow down the roll of your hips, drawing him back from that edge you'd been dangling him so deliciously over.

"No. No. Don't - Fuck."

"Then you'll have to clean up your mess."

You swipe your finger through the cum that has steadily dripped from his cock and onto the sheet below, and lean forward to bring it to his lips, pressing your hips further and further into his ass. There's a sticky sheen of sweat on his back that slicks you together, and you can't resist. You kiss him. Soft lips pressing into the muscle of his shoulder, waiting for that moment he parts his lips in a voiceless moan to slip your finger inside. His tongue laves around your digit, tasting himself on the salt of your skin and he groans, vibrating desperate sounds from his chest to yours as you fuck so deep he's seeing stars.

"That's it, that's a good boy," you coo, dragging your finger from his mouth, leaving a trail of saliva across the scruff of his cheek.

"It's such a shame I have no use for your cock when it looks so pretty, Detective," You say, lifting your leg to fuck more deeply into him. "Look at it, all drippy and useless. You're going to come, aren't you? Even without touching your cock, you're going to come and make even more of a mess."

"Yes. Fuck, yes. Don't stop."

The steady slap of your hips picks up, and you're panting with exertion now too. You could've had him coming in five minutes, but that was no fun for you. You'd waited too long for this not to drag it out, not to see how long he could hold off for you, how much of a desperate mess he could be before he was begging for release. This was it. His limit. You'd found it, and his groans were suddenly impossible to ignore, shooting white hot heat into your own core, making you feel slick with want as you fucked him. You need him to come, before your need for more friction clouds your brain and you need to slip your hand between your own legs before he even leaves.

"Such a pretty ass to ruin. Come for me, Detective. Oh, fuck. Come for me."

He stops breathing. He thinks he's died. He has to have. You think you've killed him. But then his whole body tenses and he groans out a sob, biting sheets and spitting them out over and over as he comes, and comes, and comes. You don't stop, each shuddering sob of a gasp spurring you on until he's milked dry and almost prone on the mattress.

"That's it. That's it. You did it. Good boy. Well done, Detective. Well done."

He feels so soft. His bones must have turned to dust and spurted out of his cock with that final thrust of the strap in his ass. He's never been this weightless, never been this carefree. There's not an ache in him, just pure bliss, and he's so relieved he could cry.

And you're there. Pulling out of him slowly, wiping down his back, his thighs, with a damp towel, cooling him before you dry him with another, bringing water to his lips for him to drink. Pushing his hair back from his forehead, you guide him onto his back, letting him lie down and take a moments rest you know the man wouldn't take any other time. You're fairly certain he doesn't sleep. Detective Rockford works too hard because he cares too much, you know that. And you also know he doesn't care for himself. That is why he's here, even if he'd never say so himself.

"Up you get, sweetie. It's cold. Let's get something on you," you're whispering to him all too soon. Tim's lost, the concept of time gone from his body entirely, but he supposes it has been too long, his time is up. He only paid for an hour of your time, and even that seemed much more valuable than the price you'd put on it. He should go.

When he sits up he's lethargic, reaching for his clothes as he shuffles to the end of the bed. He doesn't know you're holding a robe out for him, strap discarded. He doesn't see the concern in your eyes because he suddenly can't meet them. "Should get going, I guess."

"No. You shouldn't. Stay."

Tim looks up to you then, seeing you wrapped and fully covered for the first time in the year he's known you. You're no more on the job right now than he is, he realizes, blinking in confusion at the robe you toss next to him.

"Look, I've taken up enough of your time, I don't want to overstep -"

"I'm not asking you to stay as a client, Detective. I'm asking you to stay as a friend. Stay. Talk to me." And you say it because god knows you mean it. You want him to stay and you want him to talk as much as you know he needs it, that gap he'd bridged with his hand now being bridged by you, and your simple request that he stay.

"Some friend to have."

"A good friend to have, Tim.”

“- I didn't mean - I meant me, I -”

“The point still stands either way," you say. And you mean that too. "Stay."

And that's it. There he is. Stripped back, just like he wanted. No more Detective. Just Tim. And there you are. Sitting on the blanket draped sofa, looking him straight in the eye. You don't need to look down to see him, and he doesn't need to look up to see you.

Grabbing the robe, Tim drapes it around himself, walking on unsteady feet toward you, the mess of the sheets and his life forgotten for one more second.

"Decaf? Might not have all the answers. But I do have coffee. And that's a start."

"Yeah," he says as he sits beside you. "Yeah, that's a start."

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr @corazondebeskar-reads

also a little sneaky tag if you showed interest in my snippet the other day 💛 @heareball @nerdieforpedro @missredherring @survivingandenduring

#tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x you #merge mansion #merge mansion fanfiction #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford #detective tim rockford #coveted fics

[writeforfandoms]

The Hanging Tree

Find my CoD masterlist

You've known Johnny for years, and for a long time you thought all the codes and prep you two went through was just to assuage his paranoia. Until he sends you a code and you have to get out fast.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Warnings: Graphic violence, mild panic attack, minor character death, blood, gunshots, threats of violence, threats of death, spy shit, angst, whump, feral Soap. 

Word count: 5.1k

In all the years you'd known Johnny, you had gotten to know how he worked quite well. He was occasionally prone to over exaggerating, and sometimes was dramatic. But he had never been flippant about your safety. Never. 

Which was why, when you got a text from him that said simply "hanging tree", you stopped breathing.

And then you bolted for your room. 

For all his planning and paranoia, Johnny had never actually used any of your safety codes until now. 

You stuffed some clothes and necessities in a bag, grabbing the bundle of cash you kept hidden. For Johnny to have used this sign was… bad. Bad enough that you knew you couldn't use any of your credit cards or anything. 

Briefly, you cursed yourself for not taking him up on his offer of packing you a bug-out bag. 

But you were still out the door in under twenty minutes, locking up behind you and starting to walk. 

You and Johnny had gone over the route before, multiple times. A few times on foot, more often only verbally, until you could recite the way unaided. 

You treated your memory now, reciting the directions to keep yourself calm as you left your home behind. For all you knew, you would never see it again. 

A deep breath helped to calm you, a bit, and you took the first turn. 

It wasn't late, fortunately, so you passed people as you walked. You smiled and nodded to those you knew, but didn't linger. It was best to move quick, but not so fast as to attract attention. You could practically hear Johnny reminding you of that. 

You paid for a ticket in cash to your first stop, three towns over. From there, you'd go west a ways, then back north a bit. It was a roundabout route, but necessary. 

Just in case anyone was trying to follow you. 

The sun had set by the time you got onto the second bus, your breath fogging up the window ever so slightly as you leaned your temple against the cool glass. You almost felt like crying, or asking him if he was sure, or anything. 

But his instructions had been very clear. 

"If you ever get this signal from me, you leave. Immediately. Don't linger. You remember the route?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Of course I remember, Johnny. Do we need to go over it again?"

He'd laughed quietly, pressing an almost apologetic kiss to your forehead. "Nah, sorry, hen. I know you know. I just–"

"Fuss. You just fuss." But your smile was unmistakably fond as you gazed at him. 

"Dinnae fuss," he grumbled. "Anyway. You get that signal, don't contact me. Right? This is important."

"Get out as fast as possible, follow the route, watch my six, don't contact you," you reiterated, almost flippant. Almost. "I know, Johnny. Is there… is there a reason you're doing this now?"

"No," he assured you. "No, just makin' sure, I promise you." 

You had smiled then and let him distract you with kisses. 

You breathed out hard, blinking back tears. No. You didn't have time for that. Safety first, then crying. Maybe. 

The transition to the third bus was a long one - the busses didn't run as frequently this late. So you got to sit in the terminal and wait, backpack on your lap, playing on your phone (on airplane mode) to keep yourself busy. 

Fortunately, from the looks you chanced around, you didn't recognize anyone. It didn't look like you'd been followed. That was something of a relief. 

Finally, you boarded the last bus. Setting your backpack down on the floor in front of you, you stared down at your phone. The urge to text Johnny, to call him, to ask if he was alright and demand to know what was going on, was… it was hard. Your next inhale was a little shaky and you swallowed hard. 

And stuffed your phone back in your pocket. 

Johnny had been very clear, and the instructions were for your safety as well as his. 

You couldn't contact him. You just had to get to safety and wait. 

The last bus stopped, and you got off. It was the middle of the night now. The sky was clear and cold, stars twinkling down at you, the moon bright. You started walking, shivering a little, keeping a close eye on everything around you. 

But nobody else got off the bus, and nobody followed you. 

From here, it was a long walk to the cabin. Johnny insisted on that, said that a secluded place would be safer. In case he needed to patch himself up without nosey neighbors calling him in, or he needed to lay low. 

The end result was that you were walking for a lot longer than you really wanted to. The chill wore off after a while, at least. 

Nearly-numb fingers fumbled the cabin key out of your backpack, and you unlocked the door, flipping the lights on. The cabin was cozy, not large but well furnished, and always stocked with non-perishables. The door shut behind you with a soft click, and you locked it. 

There was only one bedroom, and you claimed it as yours. Since Johnny had sent you all the way out here, he could take the couch if he got in while you were sleeping. You left your backpack next to the bed, stripped down enough to be comfortable, and collapsed. 

The room was bright when you woke, and you groaned. For a moment you thought about pulling the pillow over your head and going back to sleep, but no. You needed to get up. 

Groaning again, you dressed in clean clothes from your backpack and padded into the kitchen on bare feet. No sign of Johnny yet. No anybody at all, actually. 

Sighing, you went through your options for breakfast, and settled on a protein bar. Not exciting, but it would do. At least he had tea here. 

The day passed achingly slowly. Johnny had left plenty of books and board games in the cabin, even a TV and DVD player. But nothing held your attention for long, not with the low-level anxiety as your constant companion. You barely even felt hungry, picking through the available food with a choosiness entirely unlike you. 

Not even a hot shower helped to quell the anxiety. Every minute without an update felt like an eternity stuck in purgatory. 

The second day dragged just as slowly as the first. You left the TV on all day, playing movies without paying attention to them, just for the background noise. Just to have something outside your own head. 

Because the possibilities running non-stop through your mind were terrifying, now. 

You forced yourself to eat and keep hydrated. You cleaned. (You'd helped choose the cleaning products, you remembered a playful argument with Johnny over rags of all things, remembered whapping him in the chest with your chosen towel, remembered shrieking laughter as he chased you outside and tackled you down into the grass–) 

One book caught your eye. One you'd thought you had lost years ago. Johnny had sworn up and down that he had no idea where it was. 

Fucking liar. Your laugh cracked into a sob, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, suddenly terrified of making too much noise. But the tears didn't stop for a long time. 

The third day felt a little… listless. Surely Johnny should have come by now, or sent one of his friends? Surely it wouldn't be so bad to turn your phone back on and check for any messages? 

A knock on the door a couple hours before sunset startled you so badly you knocked over your water. You swore softly, gaze darting to the door. 

Someone called your name from the other side of the door. Not Johnny. Someone with an English accent, smoother than you would have guessed of one of his teammates. 

"Soap sent me," he called through the door. "I'm going to take you to him." 

You dropped a towel silently on the spilled water, aching to open the door. But you didn't know any of his teammates, not really, and you couldn't confirm one way or the other. You needed something more. 

"Ah, he said he'd get you ice cream?" The man sounded confused now, but still pleasant. 

And you relaxed. That was the all clear. You practically bounded to the front door, yanking it open. 

"Finally," you breathed, looking him over. Dark, nondescript clothes, dark hair, dark eyes. "Is he here?"

"Close," he answered, a little evasively. "I'm taking you to him." 

"Let me just grab my–"

"Leave it." 

You jerked a little, startled at his tone. He smiled apologetically. 

"You'll be back here soon. Might as well leave it. We need to go now." 

You hesitated. Something didn't feel right. But you'd been anxious for days - maybe that was still throwing you off? Or the lack of good sleep? He'd given you the all clear, it should be fine… 

"Okay," you agreed softly, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on. The cabin door closed behind you and you started towards the car parked in front. Black sedan, tinted windows. "How far are we going?"

"Oh, not far at all." Something jabbed into your neck and you shrieked, trying to tear away. But he anticipated that, one arm winding tight around you as the needle left your skin. "You'll sleep right through it." 

The world started to tip under you, at once too bright and blurring together. Your limbs felt thick and clumsy, uncoordinated. 

The last thing you felt was leather under your cheek. 

Throbbing in your temples woke you, insistent and annoying. You groaned softly, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them carefully. The sudden flood of light made you close them tight again with a whimper, pain radiating all the way to the base of your skull. 

Trying to lift your arm to block the glare didn't work, and you panicked then, a little. You couldn't move either hand, or your legs. When you tried, something rough rubbed against your skin, quickly rubbing you raw. Your breathing sped up in your panic and you carefully opened your eyes, head tilted down to try to minimize the light. 

You didn't recognize anything. You were tied to a chair, the rope tight enough to prevent you from moving much, but you could at least still feel all your fingers and toes. Quick looks around showed nothing but a bare wooden room with a spotlight set up directly across from you. The light was so bright it hurt your eyes, and you gave up trying to see anything directly around it. 

You had no idea where you were. You were tied up snugly enough that you couldn't escape. And you were alone. 

This time, there was nothing you could do to stop the panicked tears. Despite knowing it wouldn't help, you couldn't stop yourself from jerking at the ropes, trying desperately to find some weakness. 

The click of a door opening may as well have been as loud as a gunshot. You stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped everything. Footsteps approached you, smooth and even. 

"Ah, you're finally awake. Just in time." 

It was the man from the cabin, the one who'd given you the all clear. You sucked in a gasping breath, trying to form words. 

"Best not. You're only here as incentive. I only need you alive, not unharmed." 

You swallowed hard at that, at how casually he threatened you. Your mouth closed without a word. 

"Good. Now, you just sit there and look alive." He chuckled a little at his own joke, stepping past you to fiddle with something just underneath the light. You couldn't see what it was - between the headache still incapacitating you and the man's bulk, you were useless. 

You nearly started crying again but swallowed it back with enormous effort. You needed to be quiet. You needed to not give this man a reason to hurt you further. Johnny would figure this out, you had no doubt that he'd find you. 

You needed to be alive for him to find. 

The man moved behind the light again, and you winced at the brightness. 

"Mr. MacTavish." His voice was lower now, drawling, insulting. "You have been making yourself quite a pest these last weeks, haven't you? You know more than you should. But you're not the only one." 

Your eyes had finally adjusted enough to the light to see the little red light underneath. He was recording this. He was making a video to send to Johnny. You swallowed again, gripping the chair tight to hide your trembling. 

"By now I'm sure you've noticed something is missing. Well, here she is. Still alive, as you can see. At least for now." 

The click of the revolver was loud in the otherwise-silent room, and you squeezed your eyes shut. He was going to kill you. He was going to kill you and send the video to Johnny. Johnny would never survive that, he'd never get over it, this would destroy him– 

"She is still alive by my grace, Mr. MacTavish." Something cool brushed the skin of your temple, making you flinch hard. But the gun didn't retreat, just shifted down to just under your ear at the hinge of your jaw. "Now, I propose a trade. If you cease your actions immediately, I will let her live. If, however, you continue on your current course…" The gun left your skin but a moment later there was a loud bang. You screamed, ducking your head down, unable to help yourself. Your ears rang with the shot, unbelievably loud in the enclosed space. 

"Well, I think you get the picture. Decide quickly, Mr. MacTavish." 

The man took a step away from you and you looked straight at the camera, eyes wide, heedless of the tears streaking down your cheeks. 

"Johnny, don't–" 

The pistol whipped across your temple. For a moment, you didn't feel anything. Then pain blindsided you, warm wetness flowing from your temple freely to mix with your tears. You choked on a gasp. 

"Tick tock." The man sounded completely unbothered, steps just as smooth as ever. He must have turned off the video, because you heard rustling sounds, and a moment later he spoke again. "That was quite foolish of you. Let's hope, for your sake, that you remain quiet now. Or my patience may wear out." He walked across the room without turning off the light or unbinding you. 

The click-shink of the door closing and locking sounded terribly final to you. 

–

Soap felt like he was losing his mind. He'd sent the code to you three and a half days ago. It had taken a while for him to get to his selected agent to exfil you, making sure he knew the protocols you two had in place. 

But the soldier had reported back that you were gone. The cabin had clearly been inhabited, your backpack was still in the bedroom. 

But you were gone. 

Soap knew you, knew you wouldn't take off without your things and without reason. Especially not since he'd been drilling the importance of your safety into you for years. 

Something had happened. Someone had gotten to you first. Based on the lack of blood or visible signs of struggle, someone had gotten to you and given you the code. 

This had been an inside job. Someone had known all of his contingencies and gotten to you. That narrowed the pool considerably. 

But still not enough. 

"Soap."

There had to be more he could do. He needed to be searching for you, he needed to make sure you were safe, he needed to–

"Johnny!" 

He blinked when Ghost grabbed his shoulders, physically forcing him to stop. Soap took a deep breath, feeling like it was the first he'd taken in hours.

"Calm down. You're no good if you're panicking." 

Soap snarled, pulling away from Ghost. "I need ta get ta her! She cannae get hurt, no' fer me." 

"We will find her," Ghost said, crossing his arms over his chest, immovable. "And when we do, you need to be sharp." 

"Ah am!" 

"You've gone full Scot." 

Soap swore, and then swore again because Ghost was right. Not that he had a chance to admit it. 

His phone pinged. For a moment, neither man moved. Then Soap pulled it out, eyes going wide. 

There was a video message from you. 

He hit play immediately, going cold as he watched. Your scream sent his heart all the way down to his feet. His hands were shaking. 

He knew exactly who had you. Who, but not how or where. 

His phone was plucked out of his unresisting hands and Ghost was saying… something. Soap couldn't hear past the roaring in his ears. 

You were supposed to be safe. You were supposed to be away from all the shit in his life, safe from the darkness and the filth. 

And now this one man held your life in his hands. 

"--p. Soap. C'mon." Ghost pushed him a little, and as the rage and panic receded enough for him to feel more or less cognizant, Soap realized he was being herded to Price's office. 

"Soap, Ghost." Price looked between the two, eyes narrowed. 

"Captain." Ghost held out the phone without another word. Soap didn't watch, couldn't watch from where he stood, feet too heavy to move on his own. 

But the sound of your scream… that would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

"Fuckin' hell." Price leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "When was this sent?"

"Just a few minutes ago." 

Price nodded, setting the phone down very gently. "I'll see if we can get any location data from the message." 

"And the rest of it, sir?" Ghost didn't move, didn't even shift his weight. But the tension in the room was undeniable. 

Price breathed out slowly. "He's targeting Soap," he murmured with an apologetic glance at the Scot. "Means he doesn't know the rest of the 141. Everything was addressed just to Soap. For now, we'll back off to recon only." 

"Copy that." Ghost did finally glance at Soap. "And her?"

Price was silent for several moments. "We have to assume she's alive." 

Something in his chest loosened with his captain's confidence. Price assumed she was alive, so Soap would too. Just because she'd been bloodied didn't mean she was dead. 

But it did mean that the arsewipe who thought he could hurt you would pay dearly for every drop of blood he spilled. 

It took far longer than Soap was comfortable with for Intel to find you. (Any time was too long, any time spent with that rat bastard was unacceptable, the sound of your scream echoing in his head on repeat, your blood-stained skin etched behind his eyes.) 

But they did find you. Price organized the raid. The best and worst thing? He hadn't taken you far. A couple hours from the cabin. Not far at all, in the grand scheme of things. 

Price led, with Ghost finding a good sniper spot around the back. Gaz and Soap followed Price in. The goal was to do this as quick and quiet as possible. 

The building had once been a home, but had been renovated and added on to before being abandoned. There had been no up to date plans of the interior that Intel could get their hands on. 

All they had to go off of was the video. That damned video. 

Two sentries outside. Price dispatched one, Gaz the other. Soap hung back, watching through the one uncovered window. 

No movement inside that he could see. 

The snake cam showed one more guard inside, back to the front door, focus on something further in. 

"Gaz." Price kept his voice low, almost too low to hear, but Gaz knew. He nodded, testing the door. It swung open slowly with the faintest of creaks. 

"Don't even with me, George," the guard started without turning. "Your break–" 

Price slit his throat, silencing him. The body slumped to the ground. 

Gaz went first, creeping slowly further into the house. A woman sat in a room further in, typing away on a laptop and speaking quietly into a phone. 

"...the Cayman account. Yes I'm sure. I don't pay you for your opinion, just get the money moved. Now." She hung up with a short sigh and then stood. "Ray? I need the car, Mr. Hammond will be late to his next appointment." 

Gaz moved silently behind the woman, clamping one hand over her mouth and his other arm firm around her middle. Soap pounced after her, quickly restraining her arms. Gaz dragged her outside at Price's nod. 

Price and Soap continued on, moving silently through the building. The rest of the building was clear. 

Except for one last door, in the middle of the house. Soap pressed himself to the wall on one side, Price on the other, both listening hard. 

"You see, I'll be leaving momentarily." Hammond spoke calmly, as if this was nothing more than a meeting. "I can leave you here to the tender mercy of two of my men, or I can shoot you now." 

Your muffled whimper sent Soap's blood boiling, rage tightening his muscles. 

"Don't look at me like that, it won't help you." Hammond was quiet for a few moments longer. "Well. I suppose I'll let you live for now." Footsteps approached the door, and it pulled open into the room. 

Soap lunged, tackling Hammond around the middle into the room. The first punch hit Hammond right in the eye. Soap didn’t even feel the impact against his knuckles. He didn't realize he was cursing, either. He just punched Hammond, again and again. 

Until a hand caught his, hauling him back. Soap turned, lips curled back in a snarl. 

"Easy, Soap," Price barked. "That's an order." He shoved the sergeant more or less gently in your direction. 

Price must have cut you loose, because your hands were over your mouth, wrists rubbed raw and oozing. Blood still stained your skin from the injury Hammond had given you. 

You were also the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Darlin'." Soap lurched forward, dropping to his knees in front of you, hands hovering an inch away from your face. Shame washed through him, hot and bitter. You were here because of him, you'd been hurt because of him. How could you ever forgive him, ever want to see him again? 

Except you hiccuped a tiny sob and your hands covered his, pressing them to your cheeks. You leaned into his touch, heavy and desperate as you started crying again. "Johnny," you whimpered, hands convulsing around his. 

That was all the convincing he needed. Soap pulled you in slow and careful until you could hide against his shoulder, one hand carefully shielding your wounded temple, the other rubbing across your back. 

"Yer alrigh', darlin'," he crooned. "I got ye. My sweet bonnie, my darlin' lass, I got ye." 

–

You had no idea how long you sat and cried against Johnny's shoulder. Long enough that you ran out of tears. Long enough that your breathing evened out. 

But you still flinched when someone else cleared their throat nearby. 

"Jus' my Captain," Johnny murmured to you, his hand never ceasing its soothing rubbing along your back. 

"We need to go." The Captain's voice was low and rough. You risked a careful peek over Johnny's shoulder and the Captain gave you a tiny smile, standing guard at the door. 

"Can ye walk?" 

You blinked a few times and then nodded carefully. "Slowly," you agreed. 

"Alrigh'." Johnny stood and helped you to your feet, holding you steady. Hammond was gone, something that you noted absently and were eternally grateful for. 

"Gaz and Ghost are in one car," the Captain told you both (mostly Johnny). "We'll take the other."

"Rog." Johnny kept one arm around you, helping to support you out. You tried not to look at the blood splatters on the floor and ground. 

Rather to your surprise, the Captain opened the door to the backseat for you, and Johnny helped you in before quickly scooting in next to you. 

"We'll head back to base," the Captain said as he started the car. Ahead of you, you could see the other car leading the way. "We'll need to take your statement." It wasn't until his eyes met yours in the rear view mirror that you realized he was speaking to you. 

"Okay," you agreed quietly, though the thought of having to relive the last few days sent your pulse racing. 

The drive was silent. Johnny refused to let go of you entirely, holding your hand and rubbing your knee, both relatively uninjured areas. 

You shuddered to think how you'd feel tomorrow. 

You had no idea how long the ride was. Long enough that you were nodding off against Johnny's shoulder, only to wake going over a bump. 

"Easy," Johnny murmured in your ear. "We're almost there. Then we'll get you patched up." 

You nodded, squeezing his hand. You just wanted to go home and sleep for a week and forget any of this had ever happened. 

The transition from the car to medical was… a lot. There were a lot of people and a lot of talking over your head. But Johnny refused to let go of you the entire time, staying glued to your side. 

But you still could never remember how exactly you got to medical, sitting on a cot while someone cleaned blood off your face, Johnny sitting pressed up against your side. 

"We should do this now, before you forget anything." Price lowered himself into a chair in front of you, out of the way of the nurse cleaning you up. You realized with a little start that your wrists had already been bandaged, and when you tried to lift a hand to check your forehead Johnny caught you. 

"Best not, darlin'," he murmured, low and concerned. "It's taken care of." 

You pulled in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before you nodded. Your hand fell limp unto your lap. "Okay." 

Price nodded, setting down something on his knee and motioning for you to proceed. 

You started slowly, stumbling a little. How you got the text and packed up a backpack. How you followed protocol, doing everything exactly as Johnny had planned. 

How you got to the cabin and waited. And waited some more. 

"He knew my name." You felt a little bit floaty by now. The nurse had gone, too, leaving you with the two men. "He called my name through the door." 

Johnny looked worried, squeezing your hand gently. "Did he know the all clear?" 

"He did. Not at first, he said… said you'd sent him to pick me up. But when I refused to open the door, he gave the all clear." You blinked slowly and licked your lips. 

The men exchanged another significant look. You just reached trembling fingers for the cup of water. 

Price rescued you, handing it over and holding it until you had a firm grip. "Then what?"

You sipped the water and shrugged. "Well, I opened the door. He knew the all clear. He told me to leave my things, because we needed to go." You paused, tipping your head a little. "I think he drugged me. It gets fuzzy, but I think I remember something hurting my neck, and maybe being set down in the car?" 

"Okay," Price murmured. "We're almost done. When did you wake up?"

Your hands started shaking. "A few minutes before that video." 

"You don't need to tell us about that," Johnny was quick to assure you, shooting Price a look as if to keep him from objecting. "What happened in between waking up and the video?"

"Not a lot. He didn't say much, just said…" You swallowed hard, hand clutching tight to Johnny's. "Said he needed me alive, but not necessarily unharmed, so I should behave." 

Johnny rubbed your knee soothingly. "That should be enough, aye, Captain?"

"Just one more question." Price leaned forward a little. "After the video ended… what did he say?"

You looked away, swallowing roughly. You didn't think you could physically cry anymore, but you wanted to. "That what I did was foolish, and I should remain quiet or he'd kill me." Your next inhale was shaky. "He wasn't planning to let me leave alive no matter what Johnny did, was he?" 

"No. He wasn't." Price turned off the recorder and patted your knee. "Get some rest. You too, Soap." And then he was gone, striding away. 

You leaned more heavily into Johnny, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. "Are we done?" You couldn't raise your voice above a murmur. 

"Yeah, we're done. You did so well, darlin'. So well." Johnny pressed feather-light kisses to your temple and cheek. "Drink the rest of that water, aye? You're dehydrated." 

You drank, and then laid back in the cot when Johnny helped. His hand leaving yours caused you to struggle into sitting again, a pained noise leaving you. 

"Easy, darlin', easy," Johnny assured you. "Just moving this cot so I can get some sleep too." He dragged the cot right next to yours and then laid down, once again holding your hand. There was open pain in his gaze as he looked you over again. "I am so sorry."

"Don't. Don't apologize for him. It's not your fault." You held tight to his hand, frowning and ignoring the pull of the butterfly bandages at your temple. 

"But–"

"No. They chose to do awful things, not you. Don't take the blame for them." You dared to scoot a little closer to him. "Please, Johnny. Don't let this destroy either of us." 

His eyes widened and a moment later he was curled around you, trembling minutely. His breathing was fast and shaky, unsteady. But you held firm through it all, lifting one hand to rub at the soft, prickly short hairs on the side of his head until he calmed. 

"You're a bloody marvel," he finally whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. "And you need to sleep."

"Stay?" You pressed your hand to the back of his head, gently holding him. 

"As long as you'll have me," he vowed, quiet and sincere. "Maybe even a bit after that." 

"You'll be waiting a long time," you murmured. Your eyes were closed and you couldn't pry them back open. Thoughts were hard to keep track of. 

"Wouldn't have it any other way, darlin'." 

You meant to reply, you really did. But between thinking of a response and trying to actually say it… you fell asleep. 

But you wouldn't have it any other way. 

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap x you #mind the warnings

[perpetuallyconfused10]

could you maybe write something where hotch and the reader are the only two awake on the jet after a long case, neither of them plan on sleeping so they sit at the back away from everyone and reader is listening to music whilst hotch does paperwork but after a little while he asks what she’s listening to and they end up listening to music together? i really love your writing, the way you write for the reader is incredibly good.

I'm so sorry it's been so long! Full disclosure, this is very different than what you sent in (aka I wasn't feeling cool and mysterious enough to figure out the right music to use) so this is what we have - thank you so much for your request! I hope this did it some form of justice &lt;3 Content Warnings: Mild discussion of injury/Canon-typical violence (non-graphic), Reader is self-blaming, Written quickly and not proofread, Chess References, Aaron Hotchner quotes Kung Fu Panda WC: 1.2k

A Game of Trust

Footsteps sound from down the aisle. You don’t look up until they’ve stopped, right next to you, and Hotch slides into the seat next to yours. Offering him a weak smile, you bow your head and return your attention to the newspaper in your hands. 

He doesn’t accept your ignorance as a valid form of dismissal. 

“Are you alright?” he says. His voice is low, likely so he won’t wake the team. Even so, there’s a wariness to his expression. He’s approaching you like he would a caged animal, poised to strike at any intrusion of its engineered peace. 

Maybe he isn’t wrong. You don’t feel quite as far away from snapping as you usually do. 

You nod. “I’m fine, Hotch. Just tired.”

When you bow your head again, the black-and-white symbols on the page blurring just a little, he gently takes the paper from your hands and sets it on the table in front of you both. Even if you were fine before, you aren’t now. 

“Hey–” you say, shifting in your seat to glare at him. He’s as composed as usual, his head tilted to one side as he stares you down. As much as you want to stay angry with him, the concern you think you spot in his eyes foils that plan for you. 

“I think everyone on this team, and probably off of it, knows that ‘I’m fine’ never means ‘I’m fine’,” he pauses. You watch his eyes flicker towards the newspaper on the table and the frown that tugs at his mouth when he spots the unfinished chess problem you’ve been pretending to work on. “Reid’s okay, you know. He is.” 

You follow his line of sight, stubborn enough to try to work on it from a distance. Three pawns, two kings, a rook and a bishop. That’s all there is to it. It’s simple enough, but without Reid’s murmured commentary in your ear, you can’t think your way through it. But Spencer isn’t here. He’s one week into a mandatory leave of six, so you’ll have to solve the problem yourself. 

And you try. If you move the rook to the seventh rank…but that doesn’t work, black’s bishop takes.

Hotch isn’t pleased. He flips the paper over so you’re forced to look up at him. You bought it from the small town the team just closed a case in, as your tradition demands, and you’ve forgotten to rip off the headline. It’s a blaring reminder of the violence you’ve seen over the past five days. 

You scoff. “He’s not alright. He took a bullet to the shoulder, Hotch–”

“–Instead of you,” he says, and doesn’t back down when your eyes narrow at him. “That’s the issue, isn’t it? That he went in first? That he got hurt, and not you?”

Your breath hitches, and the frown you’ve levelled at him softens ever so slightly. Patient as ever, Hotch watches you, scans your face whilst he waits for your answer. 

It pours out of you in a hapless string of words you’re surprised he can understand. “He shouldn’t have. We should never have split up. I should’ve called for backup–”

Hotch’s voice is soft, but firm. “There was no time for backup. You know that.”

You hate to admit it, but he’s right. It’s been nine days since Reid’s been stuck at home recovering. In those nine days, you’ve visited his apartment with home-cooked meals, watched God knows how many episodes of Doctor Who, and called him every evening you’ve been away on this case. In those nine days, you’ve reconstructed – down to the millisecond – the crack of the gunshot, then Reid’s collapse; the unsub’s, then the warmth of Spencer’s blood staining your hands as you pressed down on his wound.

Hotch is right. There’d been no time to wait for help once the two of you had realised the man you were set to interview was the unsub you’d been searching for, no time when you knew a young girl’s life was at risk. But that knowledge doesn’t make the whole affair sting any less.

“This job is all about calculation,” says Hotch. His eyes trace your face, refusing to let you sink into self-blaming territory. “It’s about decision-making when there’s no time for it. It’s about guessing at the odds and acting on that instinct. Reid knows that better than anyone. That’s why he’s still alive. It’s why you’re here, too, with this team.”

You make no response. Sighing, he takes the newspaper and sets it down between the two of you, then reaches for the pen you left on it. The unfinished puzzle stares at you from the back page. 

Though far from your usual self, you can’t resist teasing him just a little. “Thanks, Master Oogway.”

His returning expression is one reserved for the worst of the police chiefs you encounter as a unit, but you swear you see his shoulders sag as much as his rigid posture allows, and his eyes are soft. 

“You are too concerned with what was and what will be,” he quotes, deadpan. From the moment the words pass his lips, you know he regrets it. Then, raising an eyebrow, he hands you the pen and stares down at the page in your laps. 

Minutes pass without a word spoken by either of you. With a tentative smile threatening to form on your face, you look up at Hotch. “Do you even play chess?”

“Sometimes, with Jack,” he tells you. “Reid wasn’t Gideon’s only student. Someone had to be the guinea pig.”

“Guinea pig?”

Hotch hums. “He got bored, in the end.”

You laugh, and within another half hour, the two of you manage it. It’s far from the five or ten minutes Reid waits before explaining the solution to you, hands flailing as he does, but you’re almost glad for the change. That’s a tradition reserved for the two of you; one on hold, but not finished with. 

Rook to the sixth rank, black’s pawn takes. White’s pawn to b7, checkmate.

It’s really that simple. Embarrassingly so. When you finally figure it out, Hotch drags a hand down his face, huffs out a laugh. Something warm builds in your chest that you decide not to question.

You’re not exactly happy, not without your closest friend next to you and rattling off every aviation statistic he knows. But you are somewhat reassured, and you’ve a completed chess puzzle to take to his apartment and gloat over when you next see him.

There’s movement in the seat next to you, and you have to suppress a frown when Hotch gets up and walks back towards the front of the plane. It’s the most he’s moved in an hour. You see him grab a few files from the briefcase on the couch, and then he’s back in his prior position with a pen in hand and a concentrated frown set in place. 

You aren’t sure how much time passes, but it’s wordless and comfortable, spent on your end with your head resting against the jet’s window.

The periodic scribble of Hotch’s pen eventually pulls you towards sleep. Before you’re all the way there, you register the distant rustle of fabric. When you wake a few hours later, it’s with a jacket tucked around your shoulders, and your head nestled in the crook of your boss’ neck. 

sorry for disappearing for two months! if you sent something to my inbox and I haven't written it, I'm very sorry! It's definitely not a lack of interest on my part, but more time constraints and a limit on how often I end up writing - please feel free to send a request/thoughts my way - even if I can't get around to them, I love reading them :) if you want them written especially soon though, I might not be your best bet!!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds x reader

[thatsatricky1]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 || ‘𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞’ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Eight of the top ten most popular players in Korea are invited to be the first people to test out the newest device and gameplay by NEO a video game company known as of recent to be the best of the best. An opportunity of a life time handed to them to be able to trial and get a contract to promote it later on. The eight couldn’t resist as they gladly accepted the invitation. Not being able to predict what was to come. A trail test that wouldn’t just be focused on graphics and playablity, no this would test relationships, strength, resolve and many more unpredictable things.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fantasy, Fluff, Gaming, Humour, Romance, Smut (in future chapters), Thriller.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,5k+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, mentions of mild violence (y’all its like one playful punch)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

“Welcome to Neo, I’m thankful for all of you to be able to come here with your busy schedules at such a late time of the day, even if this is usually the peak hour you work anyway.” A man, the Ceo of Neo clasped his hands together, a grin forming on his face as he addressed the eight figures seated around a retro meeting office room.

Taking a step forward at the head of the table it gave the eight stream and popular gaming players a good look at what he was wearing. Wearing a very fashionable style of clothes that fit with the Neo image, a young generation focused company.

“The reason for you being in the Neo building instead of sitting comfortably at home is because we want to run the first trial here in our very own headquarters. To ensure your safety and comfort while in game, just for the first time. If everything runs smoothly you’ll be able to continue the trials in your own personal spaces in whatever time schedule you all can agree on.” Taeyong explained the reason as to why it needed to be done in person toda before the devices and game could be used in their own apartments.

“I’ve heard from my people you’ve all asked your questions on things like contracted hours, sponsorship bonuses and the whole boring stuff. So why don’t we get to the interesting part, hm?” Taeyong finally unclamping his hands giving the young adults a smirk at their reactions while workers entered with a device.

“This.” Taeyong started speaking, holding his hand out as someone placed the tech wear headgear into his hand before he continued on “Is what you’ll all be wearing during the trials. Designed for comfort around the head and of course aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, I do hope no one minds that I’ve assigned each of you different coloured versions.”

The eight gamers leaning forward in their seats inspect the well made and foreign looking tech wear like headgear. A few showing excitement, others wariness and the rest a mix of both. Taeyong observed their reactions before he tapped his finger against the headgear absentmindedly.

“Well, to put it simply and go over it again just in case no one read the papers we sent out, which is understandable reading can be a drag. The headgear is safe and has been tested out already thoroughly, we already have a safety rating of five… out of five.”

“For the first time you get to wear it, someone will put it on for you. Then later on you’ll receive instructions on how to do it yourselves in future at home. I hope it is okay that you’ll all be using recliner chairs today instead of laying down, your bodies won’t be disturbed during your time in the game.”

“Now, enough talking. Who’s ready to play?” Taeyong finished his monologue with a tilted grin on his face as he raised an eyebrow towards his newly acquired team of well seasoned and popular gamers.

“Lead the way.” Mark was the one to speak for all eight of them giving the go ahead.

“Enthusiasm, I love it.” Taeyong replied spinning on his heels to leave the room expecting the eight to follow.

“This is some futuristic shit right here.” Donghyuck whispered where he stood with the group watching people set up and prepare the lounge they would be, while under during the game play.

“And we’re the first ones to get to experience it.” Jaemin moved to wrap his arms over both Jeno and Renjun’s shoulders as he pointed out their newest achievement.

“Let’s hope nothing weird happens and Donghyuck over here loses his last brain cell.” Renjun joked out, his friend opening his mouth to let out a retort but was cut off by the Ceo, Taeyong clapping his hands once leaving them clasped, an obvious habit at this point.

“So, everything is set up, please take a seat where your name card is, it has your gaming tag names on it. You’ll be geared up soon.” His words causing the young gamers to share glances.

Y/n being the first to move forward, spotting her gamer name tag easily, the others following as they found their respected spots.

Everyone sinking into the comfortable recliner seat awaiting. Y/n eyes shifting to watch the person beside her getting her tech wear headgear ready, before looking over the the recliner next to her to see Chenle lounging there looking bored out of his mind waiting, his feet swinging.

The corner of her lips tilting up in clear amusement before looking ahead of her to see Jisung, eyeing the way his hands gripped the recliner chairs armrests tightly most likely overthinking his position, the two catching eyes.

‘Relax, we are right here.’ She mouthed to him, nodding in Chenle’s direction to show they were only a few paces away in their chairs.

Jisung seemingly was able to understand what she mouthed as he relaxed slightly into the recliner, swallowing as his fingers smoothed out from their cramped position. Y/n giving him a small smile at him trying to calm down.

“Alright, try to move around too much while they put your headgear on, they’ll adjust it to be even more comfortable.” Taeyong’s voice diverted all eight of their attention.

Y/n doing her best not to flinch when the woman next to her got into her personal space, the techwear headgear in hand. Taking a deep inhale through her nose as the woman moved to place the headgear over her head. Her eye’s automatically fluttered shut at the sensation of something enclosing around her.

Though as the woman adjusted the headgear, it barely felt like she was wearing anything, only reminded she was by the slight weight difference then normal. Eye’s peeking open to watch the woman continue working only to flicker to the side subconsciously checking on her friends.

It had only taken two minutes for everyone’s headgear to be adjusted correctly before the people around then stood back. Taeyong leisurely strolling around watching, an amused smile etched on his face at the different reactions the eight had to the headgear, remembering it for later to write down for his notes.

“Alright, I’m assuming everyone is ready, the headgear has all been applied correctly. Now don’t get shocked, you’ll all hear a voice through your headsets that will count down from ten, a timer if you will, to let you know when you’ll be entered into the game.” Taeyong explained while moving around the room.

“How do we know if it worked?” Jaemin asked out from where he was reclined back comfortably, hand tapping against the armrest out of habit, used to moving his hands.

“Trust me you’ll know.” Taeyong hummed out shaking his head amused by the question as if it had been a funny joke.

“Doyoung please start the countdown.” Taeyong nodded towards someone further away in the lounge near what looked like a normal high quality Pc setup.

“Hello this is Neo, you will be transported into Project Impact after the ten second countdown is complete. Enjoy the journey, have fun and don’t forget Neo is always with you every step of the way.” A female voice rang through all eight headgears.

“Ten.”

“We just got warned but her voice nearly gave me a heart attack.” Renjun huffed out, gaining a laugh from Chenle.

“Nine.”

“Don’t worry Renjun, no need to die in real life, I bet you’ll be the first out in the game.” Chenle barked out, his high pitched laugh following.

“Seven.”

“Careful Lele, Renjun might just throw in pettiness if you keep that up.” Donghyuck joined in on teasing Renjun.

“Six.”

“No one is throwing.” Mark sternly warned out to everyone, wincing at the thought of how that would look in Taeyong’s eyes after giving them such a good contract.

“Who did the voiceover? She sounds familiar.” Jaemin asked out to no one in particular.

“Five.”

“Of course the first thing you say about the game we haven’t entered yet is about a woman.” Jeno quipped from beside Jaemin.

“Four.”

“Woman supremacy.” Jaemin replied with a large grin shrugging even if Jeno wasn’t looking at him, his speech slightly slurring being hit by a wave of tiredness.

“Four.”

“For once you said something right Nana.” Y/n spoke out from her side of the room, not bothering to look over at him as she felt so comfortable all of a sudden as if her body was sinking into the recliner.

“Three.”

“My eyes feel heavy.” Jisung barely managed to slur out, eyes falling shut only for him to try snapping them back open multiple times not being able to fight the sleepiness looming around him.

“Two.”

“Hmm mmm.” Renjun hummed out wanting to say something but his lips wouldn’t move in favour of staying closed as his eyes followed suit closing on themselves.

“One.”

“One.” Taeyong whispered to himself repeating the animated woman’s voice with her gazing intensely at the young adults who were all still.

“This will be fun.” Taeyong’s grin returned, turning to stroll his way over to where Doyoung sat, eyeing the screens, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“Welcome home Player 1, Mork.”

“Welcome home Player 2, Injeolmi.”

“Welcome home Player 3, SamoyedJ.”

“Welcome home Player 4, Fullsun.”

“Welcome home Player 5, Nana.”

“Welcome home Player 6, Dolphinlele.”

“Welcome home Player 7, Jwijwi.”

“Welcome home Player 8, T/n.”

Each individual player hearing their own greetings and not each other as they all laid spawned into random locations of the room, some in sitting positions while others had been laying.

Mark’s eyes snapping open as he took in his surroundings, alarm bells blaring once he did not feel or have impaired vision from the headgear, hands fling up to feel nothing covering his face.

Freezing at the realisation he could feel and touch himself as if it was real, taking in a deep breath. Body flying up from the couch he’d been sitting on, swearing he had felt the leather against his hands as he pushed off the seat with his hands.

“Holy shit it’s like we are really here, like this is just normal life.” Donghyuck’s voice grabbed Mark's attention as he looked over to see his friend getting up from where he’d been laying on the wooden floor.

“It’s so realistic that it’s creepy.” Renjun muttered a shiver running down his back at how one second he felt as though he was going into a deep state of sleep but the next he was wide awake in a whole new setting.

“It’s like a dream, but I can feel everything.” Jisung gasped out in wonder from where he sat on the wooden floor next to Donghyuck, moving to touch the leg of the table next to him curiously.

“It looks like I’m seeing you all exactly like beforehand, no shitty graphics.” Chenle commented on the next hyper realistic part of this all. It was unlike any video game not animated aspects, like they’d been transported into a film instead.

“You mean I still have to see all your faces in high definition, what a shame I thought my eyes could take a break.” Y/n joked out to keep herself from freaking out at how realistic everything seemed.

“I’m going to pretend you meant that as a compliment and not a dis.” Jaemin muttered moving to stretch his body, groaning as his back popped satisfyingly another weird realistic feature.

“Welcome Players, this is your home base. Once you entered Project Impact this house was chosen based on your internet personas and has been automatically set as your respawning point.” The female’s voice floated in the air as if right in front of them yet was actually being transmitted through their headgear back in reality.

“Each player has a private room that has been modeled exactly like your own bedrooms from what we already know about you, courtesy of our lovely Ceo of Neo as a sort of gift, not all players will receive such a gift, the rest of the house is based on your aesthetic taste preferences combined.” The voice continued.

“Well that’s not entirely concerning or creepy.” Renjun muttered.

“Over time you will be able to renovate and change things in your homebase. This goes for your own appearance too. Your overall body types and facial features will stay true to your real selves but customisable areas include things such as eye colour, hair colour and hairstyle, accessories and wardrobe clothing items.”

“Once again Ceo of Neo has gifted you with some of your most known wardrobe clothing and accessories items you wear on stream and in daily life through social media already, with a couple of extra clothing items added in for some flair.”

“As per what has been already discussed, you will be going into the game blind, not knowing what exactly the game play is focused on or rather how many possibilities are in store for you all here at Project Impact. With that I will leave you with a good luck, have fun exploring and if you need help don’t be shy and request it.”

With that the eight were left in silence before a sudden song floated through a speaker nearby, a pop song that had been recently charting at a nice low volume.

“Fuck me, this is going to be so much fun.” Donghyuck cheered flopping onto the beige couch nearby, accidentally tugging Mark to fall onto the couch with him, Mark grunting having felt the impact.

“You’ve got blue hair again Jisung!” Chenle cackled, pointing at the confused friend who rushed over to a mirror, his own eyes widening at the fact he did indeed have his old hairstyle back.

Jisung had dyed his whole head of hair blue after passing a sub count on his stream a few months prior, having gained the nickname blueberry from it. He remembered the way he’d gotten his hair bleached at a hair salon but streamed at home with Chenle and Y/n as they helped lather his hair in the rich blue colour. He’d only recently dyed it back to brown.

“Guess Taeyong liked your blue hair better on you, Blueberry.” Y/n chimed in on the teasing as he groaned at the nickname popping up.

“I think we were loaded in with in-game clothing items.” Jeno observed looking down at his outfit in interest. Wearing a striped knitted sweater underneath a block blue coloured long sleeve, with fashionable blue flared jeans with added random rips and converse shoes. His own personal necklace he wore often, one he’d worn today was still hanging from his neck with an added ring on his finger.

“You think? I don’t wear leather jackets.” Renjun snarked out towards Jeno shifting his shoulders back at the leather feeling against him. Renjun had a layered white, purple shirt with black mesh over it and a leather Neo logo’d leather jacket paired with black denim shorts, white calf height socks and black white sneakers. Not yet noticing the added necklaces and ring lip piercing on him.

“We can figure out how to change our hair and clothing later, we should look around first.” Mark suggested getting a round of agreement from the rest as they dispersed around their so-called homebase.

Y/n made her way down another hallway, feet stopping at a door that caught her attention, the door and doorframe itself familiar. It looked exactly like her own in her apartment. Raising an eyebrow at it, wondering just how extensively had Taeyong put research into their lives. He must have been confident in them agreeing to the contract as it had been only a month since they’d signed the deal which wouldn’t have been long enough to go into this type of meticulous work.

Shaking away the thoughts she grabbed the door handle pulling down on it before pushing the door inwards revealing her room. Her jaw nearly dropped at the sight in front of her own eyes. It was scarily accurate to her own room, she’d vlogged her room before so she shouldn’t be too surprised but it was still something her head had trouble processing.

A few items were not there, which was understandable as not everything could be placed in the game in precise accuracy but it was still very much what her room looked like. Entering the room properly now as she moved around the room until she saw her closet.

Rushing over and pushing the door open to be met with familiar and new clothing items.

“Wardrobe Unlocked.” The female voice floated through her head as she moved to touch different clothing items.

“This is way too realistic.” She muttered to herself as her fingers grazed over one of her favourite hoodies, a comfort hoodie she’d be sure to wear sometime soon in game, but took a step back, closing the closet, deciding she’d start off with her normal in-game clothing first.

Taking the time now to look at her own in-game clothing. A white crop top with black washed out ripped denim jeans, paired with white black shoes a cross on each one. A necklace paired with two rings and a grey satchel bag as accessories.

“Usertag Fullsun is requesting entry.” The female voice spoke once again causing Y/n to look over at her room door blanking when she saw it was closed again, she hadn’t closed it when she entered but she assumed it must have automatically closed.

“Um, request granted?” Y/n says unsurely into the open air, seemingly the command has worked as her door swings open with Donghyuck’s force.

“Y/N! My room- whoa.” Donghyuck cutting off his own sentence looking around in amazement at how they’d gotten her room right, or at least very accurately.

“Stop gawking, we should meet up with the others, they're probably waiting by now.” Y/n answered in return, moving to grab his arm, feeling the material of his loose almost see through knitted sweater as she dragged him towards the exit of her room.

“Look! It’s the plushie I got you when you hit a ‘mil on YouTube!” Donghyuck nearly squealed out pointing towards the plushie on her bed as he’s dragged out.

The two entered the hallway, door closing by itself. Both shared a glance at this but their attention was stolen away from where Chenle was knocking furiously against a door with the name tag Jwijwi.

“For once Chenle can’t storm into our rooms.” Y/n pointed out amused by the sight of the impatient brunette.

“I’m going to pretend to be amused with you like I wasn’t knocking exactly like that on your door a minute ago.” Donghyuck grinned wiggling his eyebrows animatedly causing Y/n to purse her lips realising he was the same as Chenle in that regard.

“Lele, come on, we're going to the living room. Sungie you too.” Y/n called out causing Chenle to look over just as Jisung’s door opened and he walked out, having heard her request.

“I hate the fact I need permission to enter your rooms.” Chenle grumbled out as the four grouped up to walk back.

“We’ll see if we can change that later in controls or something, let’s just map everything out first.” Y/n reassured her impatient friend as they made it back to the living room.

Mark and Renjun were both at the table looking over what seemed to be a map. Jeno and Jaemin enter the living room from a different entrance.

“What’s that?” Jeno asked out curiously as all five moved over to surround the table as well.

“It’s a map of the surrounding neighbourhood, looks like we’ve been placed in a more Eastern setting.

Everyone peered down at the map noting slight Easter eggs here and there of street names and store names. Some from Neo’s old games all the way to personal popular moments on social media from their own lives.

“They named a street after Chenle’s dog, why?” Renjun blanked at the sight causing Chenle to nudge his shoulder thinking it was a great idea, loving it.

“Daegal street sounds fantastic thank you very much, it’s probably the best street in the area.” Chenle defended his dog’s honor.

“Should we take a look outside?” Mark offered out to the rest of the group, silence enveloping them besides the music playing in the background before Jaemin, Donghyuck and Chenle bounded towards the front entrance of the home.

“I think that means yes.” Jisung sighed out as the rest followed.

The three were waiting for them at the front entrance, not having left yet. For two main purposes. One being they wanted to experience this as a group all together but the other reason was the unspoken leadership role Mark had taken in their friend group whenever it came to gaming.

Whenever the group had streamed together on games and such, Mark was always allocated the leadership role in the group without question or even a vote. It was a natural thing that had happened between the friend group. In and out of view of their online fan bases.

Mark moved to the front as his hand moved to touch the cool metal handle on the door, taking a quick breath in before opening it to reveal the outside world. A whole new area for them to explore.

“Welcome to Dream town.” The female’s voice greeted the players to the spawned town.

“Well that’s not very original.” Jeno pointed out as they took cautious steps out. The group had developed the group name Dreamies from the respected fan bases after they’d noticed the gamers had developed friendships and streamed/gamed often together. A whole new fan based solely for each one of them as a whole.

“Be happy it’s not Chenle’s dog’s name.” Renjun quipped back as they walked down the steps of the house.

“Oh we have cars.” Jeno couldn’t help but grin, adding on desperately “Please tell me we can drive them to.” Leaving the group towards a car parked outside their home assuming it was theirs, confirming it when the license plate had JN230400. That screamed his initials and birthdate.

Of course the one who was known for talking about his car would have his car parked out front, unbeknownst to the other’s their cars were in the garage, something they’d find out later on.

“I can literally feel the breeze against my face.” Jisung spoke out eyes closing as he felt the sun soaking into his skin and the nice faint cool breeze brushing against his face. It was unreal how much they could experience.

“That’s probably just Taeyong blowing in your face back at the company.” Chenle teased out ruffling his friends hair, starting a playful fight as they started roughhousing from Chenle ruining Jisung’s brief peace.

“As fun as this is, something tells me the game makers are just letting us explore uninterrupted before getting properly into the game.” Mark commented, arms crossed watching the rough housing going on.

“So what you're saying is enjoy our time exploring, hm?” Jaemin cheekily added on moving to wrap an arm around Mark’s shoulder.

“I wonder if we’ll be able to see our stats soon.” Renjun thought out loud causing Y/n to look over at him thinking it over.

“Please show me my stats Neo.” Y/n tested out loud blinking when she saw vividly in her own head a sort of screen like image.

“Here are your current stats, this will be updated regularly according to your actions.” The female voice spoke out to only her.

The boys watched her, it looked like she was dazed focusing on something.

Her states were interesting to say the least. She had a health bar, hunger bar, hygiene bar, energy bar, predetermined stats like physical stats= strength, dexterity and constitution, mental stats= Intelligence, wisdom and charisma. An area for abilities also listed. Her abilities she’d already had were basic human skill sets with a note ending on how abilities would increase or be added depending on activities done.

Before she could see more she shook the thought away, turning to look at the other three.

“Okay that worked, really weird vibe from that but I could see my thoughts like an image in my head.” Y/n explained before giving a simple run down of what it looked like.

“Interesting, looks like they have thought about a lot, although they did already say the game was technically finished I’m sure we’ll find a few bugs and glitches around.” Renjun claimed about Neo.

“Every game has a bug, no matter what.” Jaemin agreed, grinning as he added on “And with our luck we’ll walk right into it.”

“With our luck something is bound to happen.” Y/n groaned out not knowing just how ironic her words would be.

“Someone go find their car! I want us to take a drive around the place! Driving will be faster!” Jeno shouted out from where he was sitting on top of the hood of his new car, already excited to see if he could customise and upgrade his own car throughout the time they were going to play the game.

“Jesus I only trust him in real life with cars, did anyone remember the time we played a car simulator with him?” Jaemin shivered at the reminder of Jeno’s chaotic driving that game night, an off-stream thing. The group tried to have two personal game nights a month to themselves without people watching and breathing down their necks.

“Well, this place is pretty realistic so I’m assuming it will be safer than that… hopefully.” Mark replied nose scrunching at the thought of Jeno’s reckless driving if it wasn’t the case.

“We should get Y/n to drive- Alright I guess that was already decided by her.” Renjun suggested only to look to his right to see Y/n had already disappeared from their little group off to go find a car, hopefully her own.

Y/n walked around for five minutes before finding the garage, grunting as she ended up going back into the house to find it. Walking through the door, eyebrows raised seeing that the garage looked way bigger on the inside. Whistling to herself as she noticed all the different cars. Stopping in front of a tarp, grabbing the ends and pulling it off.

“Personal car unlocked.” The voice spoke out, causing her to make a mental note to ask the omnipresent voice if it had a name.

“Holy shit.” She muttered to herself gazing at the car.

It was a Subaru WRX, in blue. She shook her head with an amused grin realising she’d shown the car on stream before saying this would be the car she chose to buy if she ever got the chance one day.

Moving to the side of the car she wondered if she needed a key only for the female voice to speak again, reminding her to check her inventory, causing her to furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but just thinking about her inventory seemed to do the trick as an inventory flashed through her head, keys being one of the things in it.

Taking a wild guess she focused on the keys, nearly jumping when keys appeared in the palm of her hand, holding it up in front of her face, analysing it before unlocking the door and sliding in.

Her hands smoothing over the leather steering wheel before letting out a laugh of pure excitement. Clicking the engine on, feet automatically going to the clutch and slowly letting the clutch pressure release after taking the car out of park and into drive.

“New ability/skill set unlocked”

It was exactly like driving in real life, her car slowly moving forwards as her car grumbled to life moving forward, Y/n making sure not to damage any of the parked cars as she made her way towards the garage door that automatically opened.

Driving slowly down the drive while pulling down all her windows, a light breeze entering the car. Looking out the car driver side window she peered towards the boys, hearing Jeno hollered out in excitement to see her driving her dream car.

“Get in losers we’re going exploring.” Y/n raised her voice for everyone to hear. Using a Mean girls reference with a slight twist on it.

“On Wednesdays we apparently drive blue cars.” Renjun commented in return having been the first to get to her car, opening the passenger seat to get in. Clicking his seatbelt on after moving over the middle of the console to put her seatbelt on for her as she’d forgotten to out of excitement, not scolding her knowing this.

“I’m starting to like this game.” Y/n hummed back as Chenle and Jisung got in the back, her foot on the clutch as she changed gears back to neutral as she waited for Mark, Donghyuck and Jaemin to get into Jeno’s car, who tapped his steering wheel impatiently.

“You’re going to let him drive off first?” Jisung asked as he put on his seatbelt, safety in mind, asking about Jeno to her.

“Yeah, less of a risk of him driving into my car that way.”

“In-game car, Y/n. You’ll be missing it the moment we’re out of the game.” Chenle pointed out moving to lean in between the gap to face her.

Renjun’s hand shooting out to push against Chenle’s head towards the back seats.

“Shut up and buckle up, it’s in game but who knows how much damage we receive and what it’ll feel like.” Renjun scolded the younger friend. Who grumbled in return but did put his seatbelt on.

The sudden topic was something they really did need to think about. If everything in the game felt so realistic would getting hurt be like that as well? Y/n didn’t think so as the Ceo of Neo, Taeyong did claim the safety rating was five out of five so they must only get told their health stat would go down or take damage. Instead of thinking further on it Y/n focused on playing the game.

Jeno started driving causing Y/n to change into first gear while slowly releasing her clutch after her foot left the brake pedal, manovoring out of the drive. Even with them being the only ones on the road she still looked and indicated, on muscle memory.

“Where are we heading?” Jisung asked out as he peered out of the open backseat window.

“Wherever Jeno wants I guess.” Y/n replied as her hand moved to change into second gear after hitting 30 km/h.

“Mark is in the passenger seat, he has the map with him, he put it in his back pocket before we went outside.” Renjun also revealed.

“Looks like driving is realistic enough, Jeno hasn’t crashed yet.” Y/n pointed out changing into third gear after observing the fact Jeno was speeding up, Mark must have found a spot they wanted to go on map in town and was giving him directions by the confident style he showed from speeding up.

“Just think about all these houses, they will be home bases for other players one day.” Jisung pointed out as he observed the differently styled houses in the area.

“In a couple of months if everything goes well.” Renjun hummed out.

Y/n changing back into second gear as they rounded a corner and back up to third gear once they continued along. Renjun moved to turn on the radio of the car for some ambience. He was one of the four people of the group that was in charge of the music playlist usually during hang outs so it was natural for him to do so.

The group drove for five minutes before Jeno started slowing down. Y/n following his pace gazing around for tell tale signs of what exactly they were arriving too.

“Looks like the store area of the town.” Renjun pointed out as everyone took in the new area of the town.

“Can we loot in this game?” Chenle made an offhand comment as Jisung gave him a warning look.

“Your sticky fingers always cause trouble.” Jisung grumbled out in distaste.

“Hands in pockets Chenle when we arrive.” Y/n joked out as if Chenle was a kid, having remembered how her own mum used to make her do so as a child not to touch or break anything in stores.

“My number one haters right here.” Chenle huffed out pouting with crossed arms.

Jeno started indicating towards a car park area, causing Y/n to do the same. Shift down to first gear as she turned into the car park, driving further in compared to Jeno before putting the car in reverse, easily parking as only a few cars were parked in the area.

Putting the car in park, she turned off the engine, causing Chenle to pop his seatbelt off straight away, opening his door to race off towards where Jeno was still parking. Y/n grumbling about Chenle not even closing the door. All three inside unbuckled before getting out themselves, Jisung rounding the corner to close the door Chenle hadn’t.

“Let’s see what they picked for us to look at.” Renjun offered as he waited with Jisung as Y/n locked her car.

“Probably had a few stores in mind, but came to the main store street so we could get the general layout for what we’ll need going further into the game.” Y/n replied while the trio walked through the car park towards the other’s hopping out of Jeno’s car.

“Jeno has an automatic car Y/n!” Donghyuck shouted out towards the trio that approached, already cackling while holding his stomach after seeing Y/n reaction, her nose scrunching in dismay at Jeno’s car.

“Disappointed but not surprised Jeno.” Y/n addressed him as she finally got over right as Jeno punched Donghyuck in the arm in retaliation.

“I didn’t choose that!” Jeno claimed loudly as Donghyuck yelped looking disturbed, eyes unfocused.

“You ass! My health was depleted by 2 % just then!” He zoned back in, shaking off the image in his head as the female voice told him his health status.

“Well how was I supposed to know that would deplete your health, I didn’t even try hitting you hard!” Jeno argued back, Renjun shoving his face away from Donghyucks with his hand to stand in front of the said ‘injured’ friend.

“What did it feel like?” Renjun asked, curious on how much they’d be able to feel pain in the gameplay.

“What? Not even an are you okay Channie?” Donghyuck whined out offended but grumbled out the answer “It didn’t feel like what it usually feels like getting punched by Jeno, felt weird like a fuzzy feeling. How do I even describe it? Like my body didn’t like it but it also didn’t hurt.”

“So we feel something but not exactly pain, when getting hurt to indicate we have taken damage.” Renjun voiced out how they’d know about taking damage without constantly checking their health stat.

“Coolio, can we go check out the shops now?” Chenle interrupted, getting impatient to look around.”

“Outside message ‘Out of three hours you have two hours left to continue exploring.’ Delivered.” The female's voice floated through their heads at the same time.

“Hey do you have a name, automated voice person?” Jaemin asked out loud, blinking as the group watched before he gave them a sheepish smile.

“They called her Jayu.” Jaemin explained while he shrugged his shoulders, showing off that the question did help them.

“Has it really been an hour already?” Jisung asked out, shocked at just how fast time passed already.

“Yes, now let’s go before we waste anymore time!” Chenle loudly shut down Jisung’s attempt at conversation, tugging his friend into a walk.

“If we break off please go in at least pairs!” Mark called out worriedly before adding on “We’re regrouping back at the carpark in one hour!”

Donghyuck placed his hands on Mark’s shoulders to push him towards the car park exit having picked him, already talking his friends' ears off.

Renjun seeing who was left, quickly grabbing Y/n’s wrist not wanting to deal with the other 00 liners nearby.

“Hey you already got to be a passenger princess in her car.” Jaemin argued, tugging Renjun’s hand away from her wrist.

“Exactly, plus the people who drove here should stick together.” Jeno sneakily replied moving to rest his arm on Y/n’s shoulder who gave him a look at the bodily made up excuse.

“Shut up Jeno, that was an ass excuse.” Renjun scoffed out before pointing at Y/n.

“Pick someone before those two start brawling.” He suggested letting his hand drop.

Y/n humming as she thought it over. She would have the most peace with Renjun, but didn’t like the idea of leaving Jaemin and Jeno together and alone in any type of store; that was bound to be a disaster.

“For the sake of us not breaking anything in the stores I’m gonna have to pick one of them, Jaemin come on.” She decided, causing Jaemin to pump his fist in the area before running to catch up with Y/n who’d already started to leave.

Jaemin turned to look back at Renjun and Jeno giving them a smug look before talking with Y/n waving his arms around as he does.

“She’s right about you guys being a chaotic duo when left alone.” Renjun quipped at Jeno before moving away, Jeno tempted to shove Renjun’s shoulder at his words but wanted not to get hurt in return so he left it be trailing after him.

Outside the gameplay back in the Neo company building Taeyong sat at the desk with Doyoung. Takeout on the table.

“This is going well, put some money into their credit as a gift while they roam the stores.” Taeyong commented, his eyes glued to one of the many screens showing each pair of duo’s walking around.

“Careful, they might get used to your generosity.” Doyoung warned but completed the task given to him anyway.

“It’s their first day Doyoung, let them have fun.” Taeyong grinned at his friend, who’d been beside him since he’d started the company.

“It seems like you’re having more fun watching them then they are playing the game.” Doyoung teased out with a scoff, hands typing away.

“It’s refreshing seeing the game running after working on it for years.” Taeyong hummed out eyes training on a specific pair of the group. The pink haired and brunette haired duo finally made it to one of the stores.

“Careful Taeyong, your favouritism is showing.” Doyoung noticed where Taeyong’s eyes had been staring at the most throughout the last hour.

“Can’t help it I guess.” Taeyong’s reply was cheeky, as he gave his friend a wink.

“It’s going to be fun watching them when the real fun kicks in.”

Prologue | Chapter one | Chapter two

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @hanniehq @delululi @bubusebu @bunnychui @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun

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#nct dream #mark lee #mark x reader #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #donghyuck x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #huang renjun #renjun x reader #lee jeno #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno x y/n #zhong chenle #chenle x reader #park jisung #jisung x reader #nct dream au #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream humor #nct dream oneshot #nct dream imagines #nct dream ot7 x reader #poly nct dream #nct dream gaming #nct dream gaming au #nct dream x reader #nct dream series

[michelleleewise]

In My Shoes

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female reader

Warnings: kidnapping, panic, mind control, minor mentions of blood (not too graphic), mild swearing, very minor mentions of torture.

Summary: Loki is ready to open up to you, but someone else has other plans......

A/n- aahhh!!! I'm back!!! Sorry this took FOREVER!! a very special thank you to @mochie85 for reading and helping me with all your wonderful ideas and letting me brainstorm with you!! 💚💚💚

Part three -- Part four-

Loki paced back and forth, the bass of the club vibrating the floor as his heels clicked against the tile. "Norns where is she?" He asked aloud looking down the hall where you had disappeared. He looked around seeing everyone else engrossed in their own fun making him sigh. He had hoped he would be able to talk to you, try to explain his behavior these last few months but if there was one thing he knew he wasn't a master at it was his emotions. Expressing himself had never been an easy task, especially with the Allfather raising you. So he did what he did best and buried that part of him deep inside of him, allowing anger and rage to rule him.

But meeting you changed him, made him feel things again he hadn't felt in decades and if he was honest it scared him. He laughed at the thought...the so called dark prince scared of a mortal woman...but there it was. And he knew deep down if he didn't let how he felt out...didn't break the chains around his heart he would lose you, and everything he wanted with you. So he had made the decision to tell you everything once and for all, to open himself up to someone for the first time in centuries because you deserved his honesty, you deserved everything he had to give and more. He was going to lay himself at your feet and let the pieces fall as they may because the one true thing he knew in his heart was that he loved you and he would gladly spend eternity proving it.

He ran a hand through his hair glancing back down the hall still not seeing you "Alright, this is ridiculous." He huffed storming towards the restrooms seeing a small crowd gathered he quickened his pace, hoping with everything in him that you were ok. He made it to the group, leaning up on his toes but even in heels he couldn't see "pardon me...whats going on?" He asked one of the men standing there "oh, there was a fight in the bathroom, well we think...there wasn't anyone in there just a broken mirror and blood." He shrugged. Loki felt his heart leap into his throat what had happened he asked himself quickly pushing through the group "get out of my way!" He yelled as they parted all eyes looking at him as he made it to the door "Hey, you can't go in there." One man said putting a hand on Loki's shoulder.

"Remove your hand at once." He growled keeping his eyes on the door "what are you gonna do sweetheart, beat me up?" The man taunted making Loki smile "something like that." Loki said quickly reaching up he grabbed the man's arm, dropping to his knee he flipped him over his shoulder before straddling his chest, his dagger at the man's throat. "Woah! Hey! Sorry lady!" The man yelled wide eyed "I suggest you and your friends return to the bar yes?" He said clenching his jaw "y..yes...we will." He stuttered as Loki stood slipping the dagger back into his garter belt seeing the man get up and run down the hall "thats it...run away little mouse." He snarked turning back to the door. "Y/n...are you in there!?" He called out knocking but getting no response.

He slowly pushed the door open, keeping his eyes down in case he wasn't alone "y/n?" He asked again as he rounded the wall, shards of broken glass littered the tile floor, specks of red along the broken mirror and floor contrasting against the white "y/n!" He yelled quicky going to each stall slamming them open "Darling! Where are you!?" He yelled again, his heart beating in his ears as he made it to the last stall finding it empty. He turned around freezing spotting the blood on the floor again leading towards the door. "Y/n!" He yelled running back into the hall looking around seeing a door positioned at the end he ran to it throwing it open he came out into a back alley, seeing taillights shining at the end before pulling out onto the street "y/n!" He yelled staring in the direction the lights went.

Panic set in as he realized whoever that was hadn't intended on taking y/n....but him. "Thor!" He yelled running back into the club, coming out of the hallway looking out at the dancefloor seeing Thor grinding against some red head he stormed over pulling her away "Hey! What..." She started when loki shot a glare at her "sorry..." she said quickly making a beeline for the bar "y/n what is the meaning of this?" He heard Thor's voice making his head snap up at him "something has happened to m...Loki!" He yelled over the music hearing Thor laugh "trust me y/n, he can handle himself." He said patting Loki's shoulder. "No you oaf! This is....come with me!" Loki said grabbing Thor's arm he drug him to the bathroom, his eyes widening at the scene.

"Dear y/n, that could have been anyone, maybe there was a fight?" Thor said looking around "no! Listen to me!" Loki yelled feeling tears welling in his eyes "he came in here and never returned! I know something..." he trailed off pressing the balls of his hands to his eyes "do not worry y/n, we will figure this out." Thor said rubbing a circle across Loki's shoulders. "First thing is first, we need Stark." Thor said grabbing Loki's hand pulling him from the bathroom back into the club, and Loki prayed to whoever was listening that they would find you.

You slowly opened your eyes, wincing at the throbbing pain behind your eyes as you lifted your head "well, he's finally awake." You heard a man to your left say. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to lift your hands only to find they wouldn't budge. "What the..." you trailed off looking down seeing the metal cuffs still in place as well as thick leather straps around your wrists. "Ah ah, none of that." The man snarked walking closer "what do you want from me!?" You yelled looking up at him, recognizing him as the one that attacked you in the club. "Don't worry, the boss will explain everything." He said with a sinister smile.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic rising inside you at bay when you heard a door behind you open and close. "Ah Mr Laufeyson. So glad you could join us." A man said making you freeze...you knew that voice. Looking to your right the man came into your view holding the scepter from the New York attack making your eyes widen. "H..how did y..you..." you stuttered "oh its pretty easy when you know the right people." The man said smiling as he set the scepter down on a long silver table. "Now, I'm sure you are wondering why you are here." He said grabbing a chair setting it down in front of you "I have reached the extent of what I can do with the scepter." He said sitting down "I know it has greater potential, I saw what you did in New york." He said smiling "so I thought, what better way to learn then from the wielder himself." Holding his arms out.

You sat stock still, looking between the man and the scepter, remembering the stories Loki had told you...the nightmares, the manipulation "I will not help you." You growled meeting the man's eyes again. "I told you he was gonna be a hard nut to crack Stucker." The other man said laughing. Clenching your jaw you watched the man stand up with a sigh. "Well, we have our ways after all." Stucker said walking back to the table. "Now as I mentioned, I don't know the extent of the power in this." He said picking up the scepter. You felt your heart pound against your chest as he began to walk back over to you, the bright blue glow at the tip illuminating his face "but I did figure out one little trick." He said with an evil grin as he grabbed the chair moving it aside. You twisted your wrists, pulling as hard as you could trying to free your arms "wait...please don't...i..." you trailed off feeling two hands on your shoulders.

"I'm not sure if this hurts or not." Stucker said hovering over you looking into the blue glow "but you're a God after all." He said meeting your eyes again feeling the tip of the scepter press into your chest above your heart. Panic consumed you as you fought to free yourself, the metal cuffs cutting off access to Loki's siedr you realized you were helpless, tears pooling in you're eyes as the light brightened "don't worry, it will all be over in a minute." He said smiling again "no! Stop....ple..." you were cut off feeling a surge of electricity shoot onto you, gasping as it traveled through your body. Looking into the man's face you gritted your teeth "that's it, let go." He said as the edges of your vision darkened "he's ours now." Stucker said standing up straight, you tried to move your arms but your body wouldn't respond as the power slowly passed through you. "Prepare him." You heard as your head slumped forward as the darkness consumed you.

Loki made his way to kitchen, hoping a cup of tea would calm his nerves even though he doubted it. It had been three days since the club, three days since you were taken and it was eating him alive. How could "Loki" be out there and no one see him he thought setting the kettle on the stove grabbing a cup. "Couldn't sleep either?" He heard making him freeze, looking to the doorway seeing Thor walk in running a hand through his hair. "No, I could not." Loki said setting the cup down as Thor sat on the bar stool across from him. "Did you want any?" Loki asked pointing at the kettle "no, thank you. That's always been more Loki's..." he trailed off looking down "we will find him thor." Loki said watching his brother intently. "I never got to tell him." Thor whispered making Loki furrow his eyebrows. "Tell him what?" Loki asked as the kettle screamed.

"That I'm proud of him." Thor said fidgeting with his fingers making Loki freeze. "Life hadn't been kind to him, sometimes even cruel." Thor continued sighing "but he persevered, he never gave up." Thor said finally looking up, loki seeing tears in his eyes "I admire him, if I'm honest I don't think I could have made it through what he's been through." Thor said with a sad laugh. "Thor..." loki started feeling a lump rise in his throat when Tony ran into the room "oh good, your here." He said trying to catch his breath "what is it stark?" Thor asked watching him "radiation, we found similar gamma radiation that your weird blue box gives off." He said looking between Thor and Loki "what does that mean?" Thor asked "the scepter..." loki whispered as they both looked at him. "The scepter gives off similar radiation." He said looking up at them.

They stood there for a minute thinking "does that mean..." Thor cut himself off looking at stark "He has the scepter." Tony finished "but how? Your people were supposed to secure it." Thor said, anger rising in his tone "I have no idea, it was sent to..." Tony started when realization came over him "we have to go...now!" Tony yelled "meet at the jet in ten." He said running from the room "I'll meet you there y/n." Thor said quickly following behind Tony. Loki stood frozen at the counter. He never thought he would see the scepter again, let alone be in the same room with it. A shiver ran down his spine remembering his time with it...with the mad titan...new York.

"Y/n..." he whispered looking up into the empty room he gripped the counter running to y/n's room as quickly as he could, going to the closet he pulled out her battle suit, slipping it on he heard her phone go off, seeing it was stark he picked it up "I'm on my way." He said quickly before handing up. Tossing it on the bed he grabbed the daggers he had given you, his thumb running over your initials etched on the blade as he slid them into their holsters strapped to his thighs running from your room, making his way to the roof, his thoughts running rampant how did they get it...were they using it on you...were you using it.

He made it to the roof, throwing the door open he saw Thor and stark waiting by the jet "finally! Let's go." Tony said walking up the ramp as he came up next to Thor "Do not worry y/n, we'll get him back." Thor said patting his shoulder. "I hope your right." He said looking up seeing Thor smile. "Let's go kids!" Tony yelled, walking up the ramp loki saw Bruce in the cockpit "in case we need the big guy." Tony said patting Bruce's shoulder making loki shiver. "Well let's hope not." Loki said taking a seat next to Thor as the ramp closed, hoping for the best but preparing himself for what may need to be done.

A couple of hours later the jet landed In a remote area of Romania, loki unbuckled himself as the ramp slowly lowered "Alright Bruce you stay here just in case, you guys let's go." Tony said walking down the ramp Thor and Loki following close behind. They looked around seeing nothing but a small dilapitated barn in the middle of a large field "where are we? Are you sure this is the correct place?" Loki asked looking at Tony "yep, my computers don't lie, and they're saying our guy is in there." Tony said pointing to the barn as he began walking towards it. "I have a bad feeling about this." Thor said glancing around "everything's fine point break, stop worrying." Tony said as they all made it to the only door on the building. "Ok, in and out." Tony said grabbing the handle "and keep hidden, we don't know what all is going on here." He said. Opening the door they walked in seeing nothing but a huge empty building, dust and cobwebs covering every surface.

"I knew you brought us to the wrong place stark!" Loki yelled making Thor jump "stop calling me that, it's weird and no I didn't!" Tony yelled back pulling a device from his pocket he walked around "no, it's definitely here, look around." Tony said as they split up searching. "And what exactly are we looking for?" Thor asked "anything that may be a door, if any of the dust has been disturbed...ah!" Tony yelled making them jump "over here guys!" He yelled making Thor and Loki run over. Looking down seeing a small symbol etched into the wood floor. "What is that?" Thor asked leaning closer "hydra..." Tony said wiping the dust away from around it, seeing a small hinge he lifted it up revealing a small control panel. "All we have to do is input the code and we're in." Tony said looking up at Thor "yes and how do we know what the code is?" Loki asked "elementary my dear Watson." Tony said pulling another device from his pocket.

He pointed it at the keypad, a blue light emitting from it revealing fingerprints "now, we just need to get them in the right order." Tony said beginning to input different combinations "will they know of the failed attempts?" Thor asked watching Tony "we'll see I guess." Tony said as the keypad flashed red again. "Would you hurry up! We don't..." loki was cut off as the pad flashed green, a small section of wood sliding open revealing a staircase "bingo...let's go." Tony said quickly descending into the hole in the floor "ladies first "Thor said waving loki forward "oh...right, thank you." Loki said quickly following Tony, Thor close behind him. They made it to the bottom, being met by a long dark hallway "well if this isn't the stuff of nightmares." Tony said slowly walking forward "just keep your eyes open." Loki said pulling his daggers from their holsters. They made it to the end of the hall where it split in two directions. "Should we split up?" Thor asked looking both ways "no, we stay together." Loki said when they heard a loud bang down the hall on the right "down there! Come on!" Loki said running towards the noise.

Coming up on a set of metal double doors he looked back making sure Tony and thor were behind him as he opened it stepping inside "very good, see your getting it, I knew it would all come back to you." Loki heard a man's voice echo through the room before a flash of blue light shot across the room hitting an oil drum making them all duck. "Dude, your brothers gone all psycho again." Tony said when Thor and Loki glared at him "Stark, I have said it before and I will say it again, you will not speak ill of my brother or my hammer may accidentally land on you." Thor growled making Loki look at him "ok ok sorry, but what are we going to do?" Tony asked as another flash of blue lit the room. "Hit him in the head...hard." loki said making the others look at him "if he is under the control of the mind stone again, the only way to free him is a hard blow to the head." Loki explained seeing Thor nod "yes, I suspected that last time." He whispered

"that's enough for today, take him back to his cell." The man's voice sounded again as they ducked behind a large crate. Loki peeked out seeing a small group of men surrounded what looked like you but he couldn't get a good look. "Ok, we wait a few minutes, and then we follow." Loki whispered crouched back down. "So, what are we going to do with him when we're done?" They heard another voice ask "I haven't decided, but I suppose we could make use of him as our new soldier." The other man said. "Stucker....that's stucker!." Tony whisper yelled making Thor and Loki look at him "he's a high level hydra agent, had ties with shield so I heard, that's why I don't trust them." Tony said as Loki peaked over the crate seeing they were alone "Alright, it's clear." He said as they slowly made their way across the room to another set of doors.

Looking back Loki opening the door letting Thor and Tony go first when Tony suddenly stopped making loki run into him "what..." loki started seeing them both staring ahead. Loki stepped to the side seeing himself, or rather you standing in the middle of the hall, looking like death walked over you. "Brother..." thor said making loki look at him seeing you tilt your head "I am not your brother." You growled looking at Loki. "Well, I think it's safe to say loki isn't home right now." Tony said when your eyes snapped to his. "Do you ever stop talking?" You growled making Loki tense "Alright, enough of this we're going home." Loki said taking a step towards you when your eyes snapped at him, the blue glow in them unsettling him

"I have nothing to go back to." You said taking a step towards him "you have me!" Loki yelled seeing you laugh "I never had you...I only thought I did." You said looking to the others "I never had anyone." You said balling your hands into fists "yes you do, that's why we are here! We care about you!" Loki said sternly when a man walked into the hall "ah guests, Loki why don't you give them a proper welcome yes?" Stucker said crossing his arms. Loki looked at you as you knelt down on one knee bowing your head "yes Master." You said lifting your hands "no...you couldn't..." loki was cut off seeing your hands begin to glow bright green "shit! Run!" Loki yelled grabbing Tony's arm he drug him behind him "what's happening?" Tony yelled as a green blast barely missed his head hitting the wall next to them, sending chunks of concrete and dust into the air "He is not himself." Thor said catching up. "What do we do? We can't get close to him." Thor asked as another blast bairly missed his side "yeah last time I did that I went through a window." Tony said as they rounded the corner at the end of the hall.

Loki leaned againt the wall trying to catch his breath hearing slow footsteps down the hall "come out...come out wherever you are." He heard you when a blast hit the wall next to him throwing more dust in the air. "Mjolnir! Thor throw it at him." Loki said seeing Thor shake his head "no, it may do too much damage." Thor said gripping the handle "throw it past him and recall it, it will only graze his head...he'll be fine." Loki said as another chunk of wall was blasted next to him "ya know...you were right...this isn't that hard." You said laughing loudly, the sound echoing down the hall "now Thor!" Loki yelled as Thor stood up "I will try." He said stepping out into the hallway facing you. "Ah, thor...atleast you can face me." You growled. Loki looked over seeing Thor fidgeting with the hammer "I am sorry brother." He said throwing the hammer towards you. Loki looked out watching your hands light up, throwing a large blast sending the hammer into the wall next to you before shooting a blast at Thor shooting him back into the wall behind him. "Nice try, but you'll have to do better then that." You said laughing.

"Ok, you put the suit on and distract him and I will take him by surprise." Loki said gripping his daggers "I swear if I go out a window.." Tony said standing up "I'll throw you out of one if you don't stop talking." Loki snapped watching Tony hit a button on his chest, his suit materializing "he's fast...I hope your faster." He said stepping out where Thor was. "Ah Tony! Let's see what you've got." You growled as Tony lifted his arm "did you miss me?" He asked sending a repulsar blast at you, loki peeking out seeing you deflect it. "I wouldn't go that far." You said as Tony's thrusters kicked on and he flew towards you. Looking over he saw Thor lying unconscious and sighed "you oaf." He muttered quickly standing up he stepped into the hall watching the battle between you and stark "hold still you ass!" You yelled throwing another blast as he dodged "age tends to slow you down a bit, and your getting up there." Tony snarked as your attack became more erratic, green and blue flashed shooting throught the small hallway making loki worry about the stability of the structure.

He watched as Tony ducked and weaved, getting you to turn your back to him "perfect" loki said, taking his advantage he ran towards you, gripping the handle of the dagger he brought the hilt up as he came up behind you ready to bring it down when you suddenly turned, your hand gripping his neck before slamming him into the wall. "That body's not so fast is it?" You snarked tightening your grip on his neck "y/n...please..." loki gasped trying to pry your hand away but he knew it was pointless, he knew the strength you wielded now "I think I could get used to this." You said lifting him up the wall, his toes barely touching the floor as he felt the wind leave his lungs "let her go!" Tony yelled trying to send a blast at you but you beat him to it, lifting your free hand you shot him down the hall lodging him into a wall. "Y/n. L..listen.." loki tried as your attention turned back to him "listen to what? More of your lies...your excuses?" You growled, your fingers digging into his neck.

"No, no more excuses...no more lies." Loki said trying to stand on his toes to relieve the pressure "i...I love you y/n...only you." He said seeing your expression harden "God of lies." You snarled lifting him further his feet leaving the ground. "I'm telling the t..truth." loki gasped gripping your wrist "i...I wanted to tell you...everything..." he wheezed kicking his legs "so many...times..." he tried, feeling a warmth begin to move through him "just like every other girl right? I was nothing to you." You said, loki seeing a tear steam down your cheek "y...you are....everything...to me." He said closing his eyes he let your powers flow through him, feeling them in his hands he opened his eyes seeing them glowing bright purple "what are you doing?" You asked as Loki dug his nails into your wrist "saving you." He said feeling his feet touch the floor again "just as you saved me." He said as you loosened your grip on his throat he took a deep breath channeling everything he had into you.

"L...loki...." you said shakely, looking up he saw your eyes had returned to their normal color, you hand slowly releasing him "i...I'm sorry..." you stuttered as your eyes began to glow blue again. Loki quickly jumped up wrapping his arms around you "I'll always love you." He whispered in your ear, closing his he felt your powers surge through him, gripping the leather of your suit he sent it out engulfing you both in a bright purple glow before tearing you apart, the blast throwing you to opposite sides of the hall slamming you into the wall. Loki slowly opened his eyes, rolling to his back he saw the indent in the wall his body made. Lifting his hands he hoped he would find his own, sighing when he saw his own long fingers. Patting his chest he felt leather "thank the norns." He breathed closing his eyes. "Brother?" He heard Thor down the hall, tilting his head seeing him pry mjolnir from the wall "yes, I'm fine now thanks to...y/n!" He suddenly shot up, wincing at the pain in his head seeing you lying lifeless across the hallway. "Y/n!" He yelled getting on his hands and knees crawling to you.

He placed his fingers on your neck feeling your pulse "she's ok....she's alive." Loki breathed reaching down he laced his arm under your legs picking you up "but we must get her back to the tower, I am certain she will have a concussion." Loki said looking down the hall "Stark! We must go!" Loki yelled seeing Tony stumble from his hole in the wall "is it over...did we win?" He asked rubbing his head "yes, now let's go." Loki said quickly turning they made their way back to the stairs, stopping seeing Stucker standing at the bottom "where do you think your going?" He asked as they were suddenly surrounded by hydra agents "we are leaving." Loki snarled gripping you tighter to him. "Do you think I'd give up my best soldier?" He laughed when he was suddenly knocked off his feet, a silver flash shining through the dim hall "get her to the jet, I will be right behind you." Thor said spinning mjolnir "thank you brother." Loki said quickly running up the stairs.

Making his way to the jet he was met by Bruce as he ran up the ramp "what happened?" He asked as Loki laid you on a gurney "I belive she has a concussion, she hit her head hard." He said stepping back looking back seeing Thor and tony running across the field. "I think your right, let's get her strapped in." Bruce said securing you to the gurney as the others ran in "we gotta go." Tony said jumping into the cockpit raising the ramp. "Come sit, she will be fine." Thor said patting Loki's shoulder. Loki took a seat next to Thor, watching Bruce hook you up to various machines as Tony took off. Loki closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall hoping you would he ok, and that things would finally return to normal.....

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[ronearoundblindly]

If its ok what if

Lloyd hansen x reader x steve rogers

🥵 smutt

ya know, it took me a loooong time--this ask is from september--to come up with something, but today's the day apparently! And, AND! The lovely @darsynia made me an awesome graphic whilst I wrote all this filth! Thank you, bestie!!! WC 3.3k

Warnings for oh fuck these two are terrors, smut, goddamn fighting (obviously, bc they can't get along in any universe), possibly the worst fucking puns ever and I no longer care, terrible/inaccurate/but very mild dom/sub vibes, not much but knife play. Please note that this work does not involve the two men together. Alternate title: Ro is 1,000% [nope, better make it 1,000,000%] going to hell. MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you!

You can tell Steve is about to crawl out of his skin as the knife touches yours.

"You buy these pretty things for me?" Lloyd coos, tucking the point of his switchblade beneath a lacy seam. He knows damn well the navy set with bright red hearts is not for his enjoyment at all, so he turns his head to stare at your husband.

"Useless," Lloyd growls, flicking his wrist deftly.

The sliced fabric springs back to reveal your thatch of hair. You have no idea whether Lloyd was talking about your panties or Steve, and frankly, you're too turned on to care. There’s a certain amount of goading you expected aimed at the awkward hunk leaning on the far wall.

Steve clenches his arms tighter across his chest and sucks in a breath, eyes darting to your skin in case Lloyd drew blood, but his gaze lingers at your almost exposed core.

He hates this whole idea, but you have tried talking to him so many times about how to make sex more interesting. Steve can't stand to even listen to the words much less do what you want. This is the compromise.

Lloyd Hansen will do anyone for the right price, and sure, usually, that's killing, but who doesn't love a good fuck? Who wouldn't get half-hard just thinking about taking Captain America's wife to pound town right in front of the guy?

Lloyd simply smirks, returning his eyes to you and nudging the lace a little farther. The flat of the blade on your mound feels cold and so fucking dangerous that you shiver, neck tensing to throw your head back.

"How's that feel, pumpkin?"

"Golden," you whine, mewling when he nicks the other end and pulls your panties off. Lloyd doesn't like safe words and shit, but he agreed to a few check-ins, and you do have a way to stop him because, let's face it, the money is the real goal for him. The rest is gravy.

Lloyd stalks over to Steve's corner of the room, lifting the ruined garment for the other to take. "A souvenir--" he chuckles "--what's that smell like to you, huh, big man?"

Steve grimaces, unmoving, so Lloyd shoves your panties in his face.

"Smells like team spirit to me."

You should laugh. You really should. You should not fucking moan when you see Steve's chest expand and his eyes flutter shut briefly. You should not have such a surge of tingling heat race to your center that your thighs slam together.

But you do. And Lloyd notices.

"This is gonna be fun," he whispers, likely to himself, as he drops the fabric and walks over again.

His fingertips slide from your knee up your thigh, and Lloyd bends to nip at your neck.

"Lie back from me, sweetheart. Go on."

You have to cover a squeak while you flop onto the mattress. This sort of dominance is nothing like Steve Rogers even on his most confident day. Steve is always measured and a little tentative, his force reined in to the point of being boring after so many years. This is all flush and feral with the promise of oblivion, and in the strangest way, you still associate every second as with Steve, not Lloyd Hansen. The exercise in trust--the sheer fact that he was willing to entertain this idea, much less the practice--is a show of devotion from Steve you never thought possible.

And then Lloyd kneels down and pushes your legs apart. "Open up for me. That's it. Good girl."

"Ah fuck," you moan into your hand, and thank god if Steve does hear you, he doesn't say a thing.

Lloyd skips finesse and plunges into the dirty end of the pool by licking all the way up and down your cunt, hands spreading your ass to expose every bit of you to him, and he pauses to speak with his mouth against your clit.

"Do I need to give him a lesson or can I just fucking taste you?"

"I know how to--" but Steve's protest dies behind the noise Lloyd makes sloppily eating you out like a man starved.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his head, and your hips buck into the wild ride. His mustache burns in the best way. You gasp so much that your throat burns dry, too.

He says other things, things that rumble up your spine and settle deep in your brain, but you can't process what those words are until the white-hot lightning finally cracks your body apart.

Lloyd is shockingly soothing as you come back down from your high but unshockingly smug when he sweeps his face clean of your cum.

"You're doing star-spangled spectacularly for me, slut, now why don't--"

There's a thunderclap of noise that wrenches you out of your bliss. You’re knocked onto your side as Lloyd falls to the floor.

Steve raises his arm again but hesitates when you call his name.

"He doesn't...he doesn't do well with language like that," you manage to say, still fuzzy and out of breath.

Lloyd wipes blood from his nose. "Yeah, I picked up on that. Thanks,” he spits sarcastically, followed by a real spit to clear his mouth. “Down, boy. I'll play nice--" he winks at you as he rises "--but not too nice."

Lloyd climbs back to sit on the edge of the bed beside you, his hand spreading over your throat gently. "Feels good, don't it? Feeling golden?"

You nod vigorously.

He licks more blood from his lip. “Yeah? Can we move on, pumpkin, or is your pussy still needy—“

Lloyd catches Steve's fist this time, jumping up to punch your husband square in the neck.

Steve, to his credit, doesn't even go down, but he drops his arm and steps back, rubbing the point of contact as he wheezes for a minute.

"Can I please continue?" Lloyd screams in annoyance. The man is not in any way used to sharing, or going slow, or giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room for that matter. However, Lloyd is a dedicated professional, so he’ll continue because he knows what’s in it for him. "God damn it,” he barks, spitting at Steve’s feet.

Lloyd takes a beat to compose himself and returns to your side, facing away now, his hand plunging between your legs.

"Time to earn participation points, Golden Boy." Two fingers breach your entrance without warning. "On your knees."

Lloyd snaps his other fingers and points to the ground like he's training a dog to heel.

Slowly, with wide eyes and hesitant steps, Steve places himself exactly as Lloyd did before. He strategically keeps his focus glued to yours until the squelching sound of Lloyd's fingers thrusting in and out of you becomes too loud to ignore.

That look--that fucking moment where your husband sees your core and hunger darkens his whole face--could send you back over the edge right here, but suddenly, Lloyd stops.

"Now we've got his attention," the cruel man laughs.

Like your panties before, there's no ceremony to Lloyd shoving his fingers into Steve's awe-parted lips, but the biggest shock is how your husband doesn't fight the intrusion. No. Steve grabs Lloyd's wrist to keep him there until Steve is done sucking your taste off another man's fingers.

You're pretty sure that's when your soul left your body, but it's a toss-up between that and every other moment tonight.

With more patience than you thought possible, Lloyd waits, comically making an “O” with his mouth and looking at you. “Someone’s eager for the beaver, I see.” He takes the same wet fingers and tucks them between your breasts, snapping the front of your bra sharply against your sternum. 

“Finish unwrapping your present. I wanna see what you got—” and when Steve immediately reaches behind your back for the clasp, Lloyd’s eyebrows bob up and down “—and he’s good at following orders, too.”

Your husband plants a gentle kiss on the swell of one breast before Lloyd stops him, tutting while he holds a fucking knife against Captain America’s chest to sit him back on his heels.

He ticks the blade down. “That’s your half now. This is mine.”

You’re practically panting while Steve’s eyes go hard in possessiveness, locked onto Lloyd in a challenge you don’t quite understand until the fancy man flips the blade back into it’s handle.

“Fine,” Lloyd grouches, tossing the knife farther up the bed. He shuffles closer to face you, a warm hand cupping your breast before he tweaks the nipple harshly. “Why don’t you relax for us, huh, good girl?”

Lloyd coaxes you to lean back again, orders Steve to hold your legs open and tease you, buries painful fingers in your hair, and forces you to watch.

“That’s it. Don’t you want to hear her beg? Doesn’t she sound so sweet? Oh, I like her desperate…”

Not in years has Steve Rogers whispered anything so filthy as the shit that falls from Lloyd’s mouth, but goddamn, every word is like kindling stoking the vigor with which Steve consumes you. You lap up the praise while your husband gulps down every ounce created by every word.

Lloyd lowers to suck and bite all over your chest, marks blossoming across the tender skin as he takes a sort of sweet revenge for his bloody nose. A kink for a kink.

“You want to tell him what’s next,” Lloyd rasps, straining your neck back to look at him in the last few moments before you come again, “or should I?” His devilish smile is the last thing you see before he pushes you to meet Steve’s eyes, the perfect, final flick of tongue rolling over your clit.

Dutifully—sweetly almost—Steve lifts away from you as your legs shake, replacing his face with his fingers to gently bring you down, and Lloyd does not like that. He swats Steve’s hand off to slap your raw bundle of nerves and shove his fingers in again, brutally hitting that spongy spot until the dam of orgasm doesn’t just rupture, it explodes inside you.

You cry out and flail. Lloyd pins you down with a knee to your ribcage, and it hurts but not enough to give a shit over the rush of cum soaking his hand and the sheets below. Steve holds your ankles so you don’t kick him in the face while squirming, transfixed on every move Lloyd makes to milk you stupid.

With one last wet slap, Lloyd rests his hand on your belly and tosses a gelled lock of hair out of his face.

“Wifey here wants to suck you dry,” he boasts, and your hands fly to your face in hot embarrassment.

You confessed that after drinking quite a lot during the ‘negotiation’ of terms for this little arrangement, but only when Steve excused himself to the restroom. Lloyd wasn’t supposed to repeat your fantasy.

“That’s right, big guy. She’s gonna blow your—“ his eyes drop and raise “—mind,” he continues, unpinning you and pushing your arms to the side. He leans down to smear your own slick across your mouth messily, quietly adding, “he won’t even notice I’m right behind you.”

The air rushes out of your lungs before you can stop it, making a downright pathetic sound of anticipation.

“Strip,” Lloyd commands, waving a hand casually at Steve and sauntering over to a bottle of water on the dresser. “The…uh…lady should get on her knees.”

Steve turns to the other wall, unable to meet your eye, bright red blotches spotting his neck and cheeks. He’s embarrassed, too, but from the speed at which he unzips his jeans to relieve his still-straining erection and then pulls his shirt over his head, Steve is also painfully aroused. You even catch him rubbing his cock with each conceivable pass while disrobing. It reignites that weak fire between your tired legs.

“Face up, Captain. Give ‘er some room,” Lloyd snorts, capping his water.

Of course, Steve spreads his legs in front of you, and instead of acknowledging how fucking hard he is, he helps you balance into position.

You capture a quick kiss and smile as your husband blushes even more.

“Jesus, I’m gonna vomit,” Lloyd mutters behind you.

He’s just so, so fucking evil, but you admit the contrast has you drooling to get your mouth on Steve. You’re already planning on adding orders to your regular routine. You buzz with excitement at all this play implies, now and in the future.

Steve isn’t just letting this happen; he likes what’s happening.

Lloyd’s warm hand pets down your spine until it rests heavily on your lower back, the heel of it pressed against your spread ass, an encouragement and a threat.

“Take him how you want. Just like you told me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, listening to Steve’s ragged breaths amidst Lloyd's criticism.

“You don’t just lick him, do you, kitten? You can do better than that. I thought you wanted to swallow him whole. Don’t disappoint me now. More. You can take it. More.”

Your nose nuzzles into Steve’s pelvis as you feel his cock jump in your throat. You swallow around him but force yourself up for air after.

“Is that the best you got?” Lloyd teases, his hand sliding tauntingly down your crack and through your folds before he’s gone.

You open your eyes when he grabs your wrist and presses the closed switchblade into your palm.

“Go on. Hold it, pumpkin. Right there.” Lloyd makes your hand rest on Steve’s thigh. For balance, you have to open your fist and press the metal to your husband’s skin as you take him back into your mouth.

Steve fucking groans, pinching his eyes shut and grabbing the sheets beneath him.

“Oh yeah,” Lloyd chirps, “he likes a bit of danger, huh?” A flat hand cracks against your ass, making you whine with your lips around Steve’s dick.

The sound of Steve whimpering is coupled with the snap of Lloyd's belt. His fingers return, and you just know he’s unabashedly staring at your pussy.

“Whoo-ee, if you weren’t already gaping for me, I’d think you weren’t into this. Put your back into it.” You hear the rip of a zipper only moments before the thick tip of him lines up.

You can’t help but moan low and long over Steve’s length.

“Baby?” Steve breathes above you.

“She’s fine,” Lloyd answers instead, pushing in. The head of him pops past the first ridge of your walls, and his hand clamps down on your hip, the other flat over the small of your back, guiding, controlling.

The spit of both men coats your core and inner thighs, you remember, and the slow swirl of ambient air proves it. That thought makes your eyes roll back as much as the glorious pressure of Lloyd’s cock filling you.

But Steve’s fingers find your chin and raise you to look at him, repeating his question until you let him fall heavy from your mouth and lick your swollen lips.

“Golden,” you say just as Lloyd bottoms out. “Fff-ahh.” You barely stop yourself from cursing when he thrusts forward and another SMACK hits your ass. “Golden,” you promise, because you know Steve is watching with extremely mixed feelings.

You return what attention you can to stuffing your mouth full. A rhythm progresses while you rock between them, but it’s too gentle for—of all people—Steve.

His hand knots through your hair to guide you faster. You have to plant yourself steady on the mattress, the knife digging into both your flesh, and hold your hips still.

Lloyd isn’t even fazed as he takes over his own selfish pace, his balls slapping so hard they sting your thighs. He keeps talking, too.

“See how much she likes that, buddy?”

Oh, that is not going to go over well with Steve.

“Bet she’d drop to her knees for you daily.”

He’s not wrong there…

“Damn, babygirl—“ Oh shit “—sometimes a bitch just needs fucked doggy-style.”

You can feel Steve’s chest fill to correct him, the deep v-line of his Adonis’ belt pressing against your nose to cut off your air, but Lloyd purposefully slams into you. You lurch forward to deep-throat Steve with a scream of alarm, and the constriction nearly topples Steve over the edge.

Just for a moment, his hand holds you down, choking you. It’s Steve choking you on his dick, and your nails happily dig into his meaty thighs. You’ve dreamed of this day.

With a strangled sound, Steve pulls you off him, strings of spit drip from your abused mouth. You’re gasping for air but also not done enjoying yourself, so you lick and kiss up Steve’s length until ready to take him again.

All the while, Lloyd darkly chuckles and kneads at your ass.

When one spanking lands so hard that you cry out, Steve bucks down your throat and punches the bed, clearly torn between sensation and situation. 

“Such an asshole,” he grits through clenched teeth. 

“Oh,” Lloyd tuts, “she wants it in the ass? Well, when in Rome…” He swipes his thumb over the cream pooling at the base of his cock and shoves his thumb hard against your puckered hole. 

Honestly, you have no idea if it even breached because you scream and fall forward on Steve's dick. This time, Steve comes with a roar, a raging, animalistic thing you have never heard before, but you’re pulled away just as fast. 

Lloyd hauls you up to his chest, telling you to look at what a fucking mess your husband is for you. Steve desperately grips himself until it’s over, half his spend glistening on his abs, half rolling down your chin while Lloyd continues to thrust into your sweet spot.

He’s given up controlling his language entirely.

“Fuck, she’s close. Come on, big guy—“ he pinches your nipple and bites at your neck “—finish her off.”

Lloyd drops you like a stone into Steve’s waiting arms, and Steve wastes no time slamming his mouth to yours and furiously rubbing your clit. You’re so stretched out that three of his thick fingers feel like nothing until they curl.

This time you can’t help but shout your own curse. Steve just keeps kissing you, holding you two together as you writhe. You hardly notice Lloyd painting his cum across your back and ass but neither does Steve, it seems, because the next thing you know you’re laying beside your husband in bed while your guest grins in triumph.

“I’ll just take this,” Lloyd drawls, reaching beneath Steve’s bare leg to retrieve his knife. He slaps Steve’s ass, too. It’s as if Lloyd knows Steve will let him get away with just about anything in the post-coital fog. “Don’t want you to feel left out, buddy.”

Your husband makes no move at all except to kiss your forehead.

“How are you?” He smooths your wrecked hair out of your face.

“Oh wow,” you say with a rough voice and runaway breaths, “I’m golden, just golden.”

Lloyd grabs his water bottle, joking. “My work here is done, and you two—“ he swigs and swallows dramatically “—I don't mind repeat business from. Anytime. Fuck.” 

He struts to the bathroom, pants still undone and hanging open, uncaring. With a shout, he slaps the top of the door frame.

“That’s America’s Cunt!”

Steve’s whole body tenses. “I hate that guy,” he grumbles into your sweaty skin.

You snuggle closer, surrounded by familiar body heat and musk. “I know. Isn't it great?” 

Because it’s so, so true. There is nothing about Lloyd Hansen you actually want for one second longer than necessary. That's the beauty of teamwork: everyone serves their purpose.

Honorable mention to the line I promised but ultimately couldn't fit in (that's what she said):

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#steve rogers fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #steve rogers smut #lloyd hansen smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve x reader #18+ fanfic #ro answers

[otonymous]

Memento (DC Jason Todd - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description: 

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Oct 6/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #2: Lingerie

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings include: super mild knife play (no blood involved!), a faint whiff of hate sex (in that love and hate are two sides of the same coin in this particular instance lol), jealousy, one-night stands, rough intercourse, brief mention of masturbation, size kink, angst.

Word Count: ~2500 words

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

This second Kinktober fic was inspired by an Ask sent in by @yelenabelovasbathwater, who requested the following:

This was supposed to be an exercise in writing about lingerie.  As with most things Jason Todd related, it turned into angst.  I hope y'all enjoy the read anyways LOL! 🙈😂

-XOXO, Otonny 💕

“Why did you come here?”

Why indeed, you ask yourself, feet suddenly leaden and rooted to the concrete floor, unable to tear your gaze away from the back of Jason’s head.

Dark and low, the sound of his voice is an echo in your mind, the words a warning percolating through layers of your consciousness, meaning gradually taking root:

To take one step closer would be foolish.  

Dangerous.

But you had long since passed the point of no return, seeking out the flame at the risk of immolating yourself in his fire.

You could admit it now.  Had dug down deep into the brittle earth of your honest truth and recognized that regardless of what had happened in the past or had yet to happen in the future, as long as you were alive, the spark of him would live forever within the cradle of your heart.  For better or for worse.

And so, you came to face him: Jason Peter Todd.

Not in an act of bravery nor a show of bravado.  Jason was no charity case and the last thing you wanted to do was fix him.

There was no fixing…this.

“I don’t need your thanks, if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

Shifting in his chair, Jason speaks, not bothering to look up from the open book in his hand — a copy of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights as dog-eared and worn as the other books sprouting up in stacks from the floor around the cavernous space of his hideout.

“I-I’m not here for that.  Though I am very grateful for what you did, helping my brother out when he was cornered by those thugs—”

“Tell him to stay away from dark alleys at night, yeah?  Next time around, he may not be so lucky.”

You nod, stopping short when you realize Jason wouldn’t have seen it with his back still turned to you.

“So why are you here then?” he asks again, the sharp edge in his tone almost painful in your ears.

“I’m here…to say goodbye.  I’m leaving Gotham.”

Jason’s hand stiffens, crinkling the pages of his book.  “What about Dick?”

“Dick knows.”

“So that’s it, then.  So easy for you, isn’t it?  To just pick up and leave whenever you feel like it, not giving two shits about who gets hurt in the process?”

Finally…finally…Jason turns to face you, the book clattering to the floor as he rises to stand. 

You had forgotten.  

Forgotten how tall Jason was, rising easily two heads above the top of your own.  You had forgotten about the broad stretch of his shoulders beneath his tactical jacket, its tall collar stiff around a neck thick with muscle and sinew, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with each strained swallow.

His large hands curl into fists now, the same shape they made when he ran long fingers through your hair to caress and pull that night a lifetime ago.

“This isn’t easy for me, either.  I loved Dick—"

“Yeah, like the way you loved me, right?  One night and one night only?  Or was that a mistake too?”

Words of hurt fall like rain upon your head as you stand there, watching Jason’s fists tremble with anger, rage…and the unfathomable depths of secret pain.

And for a moment, you wondered whether you should’ve turned your back to leave, whether it was better to let sleeping dogs lie if it meant you could avoid further muddying up waters best left undisturbed. And you might have done so…had you not looked into his eyes:

Blue.

Whereas Dick Grayson’s had always been the azure shelter of a midsummer’s sky, Jason’s were dark like the colour of a tempestuous storm:

Impetuous, emotional…and honest.

Jason Todd was used to living life in hiding: secret identities maintained under a mask, cloaked beneath a red hood.  But here, now — standing face to face and breath to breath — he could not hide from you.  Nor did he try,  the glaze of moisture settling over his eyes telling you that for all the waves of anger rising off his body and squaring his jaw, Jason was…

…hurt.

And so you decide that this time, you would not run away.  Like Jason, you were done with hiding, of lying to yourself and those around you.  Thus, gathering your courage, you do the very thing you came here to do:

Be honest.  With Jason, and your own heart.

“Jason, you were never a mistake.  The only mistake I made…was being too scared to love you.  I’ve wronged you.  I’ve wronged Dick. And I’ve done myself no favours by thinking I could fool myself into loving someone else when my heart has always belonged…to you.

“So I’ve come here today to apologize.  I’m sorry for hurting you and your brother.  I know it’s little consolation, but I hope that in my leaving, the two of you can find a modicum of peace.”

“Like hell I will.”

Time seems to slow in the instant Jason moves, rushing at you and overpowering in the tidal wave frame of his body — all bulging muscles and calloused hands demanding as they angle your face to meet his.

His kiss is a punishing sting, bruising and urgent as lips meet, gnash upon teeth.  He doesn’t care about strangling your moans with probing swipes of his tongue, and you pay no mind to the taste of blood mingling with saliva, yours and his.  And when your legs begin to shake from breathlessness, Jason only deepens the kiss, wrapping strong arms around your waist to hold you in place because Jason Todd wasn’t done with you yet. 

It was far from over.

There is a fire in his eyes, burning dangerously wild and reckless in deep blue to remind you of the exact reason why you had chosen Dick in the first place, why you had to avoid Jason all this time:

It was an act of self-preservation.

Because this - this - was inevitable: the chemistry that drew the two of you together so naturally like opposing poles of a magnet, the bond binding and irreversible.  Electric.  To fall for Jason was a death sentence; you’d be helpless against the irresistible force of attraction, falling into him entirely until you ceased to know the limits of where he ended and you began.

And the thought scared you.

That enticing lull of losing yourself completely in another, of loving someone so deeply that to be without them would mean the end of the world.

No one person should have so much power over another, you had thought.  

And so, you left.  Slipped out of Jason’s arms as he slept and forced yourself to abandon the encompassing warmth of his body.  Fought off the soreness between your legs that reminded you too much of what heaven had tasted like as you told yourself, over and over again, that you’d be content with knowing Jason Todd intimately just once.

It wasn’t a one-night stand.  For you, it had never been.  Rather, it was the granting of a glimpse into a secret paradise.  At a price you didn’t think you could afford to pay. 

You were a fool.

You know that now.

The wisdom of your true heart reveals itself in the tears streaming down your face, in your fingers that hunger for the touch of him, wrapping hard around dark strands of silken hair to pull him closer and closer until he is groaning into your mouth, anchoring himself with teeth that sink into the cushion of your lower lip — relentless in its need. 

“I hate you,” Jason says, brows furrowed in frustration as he lays the grimaced confession at the corners of your kiss-swollen lips.  “I hate you so much for what you’ve done.  To me.  To Dick.  But most of all, I hate that I can’t stop loving you.”

Yes.  Yes, my love.  Love me, hate me.  But whatever you do, don’t forget about me.

Because I will never forget you.

Jason pulls away as if stunned, the stroke of white hair that grew from the crown of his head falling into his eyes and yet, it failed to mask the surprise on his face, as if he had somehow heard your innermost thoughts though you had said nothing at all.

“I won’t forget.” 

Jason tells you, low voice solemn in such a way that left absolutely no room for doubt.

Rough hands grip onto the collar of your blouse, a single rip sending tiny buttons scattering across the concrete floor like a broken strand of pearls.  And you are left exposed beneath the spotlight of Jason’s gaze, his fingertips tracing down bare skin to the small of your back while his eyes traverse the landscape of your body: neck…shoulders…collarbones…until finally coming to rest on the curved peaks of your breasts.

Red.

Sheer mesh leaving little to the imagination and dyed in a hue that matched his own colours.  Enticing in its simplicity; thin straps tracing a starburst along your shoulder blades and a teasing second-skin that begged for removal in the most savage of ways: torn by hungry teeth or ripped to shreds in impatient hands.

And yet, that wasn’t what stirred Jason Todd most of all.

His shock came from recognition; the fact that you had worn this bra the first and only time you had spent the night together.  That he kept the vision of you wearing this perfectly preserved in his mind, calling upon it whenever he faltered in strength of will and discipline — hot water beading on his skin in the shower as he reached down to grasp his engorged cock, stroking hard and fast until your name left his lips in a groan, Jason swearing that this time would be the absolute last he would ever think about you as he watched his seed circle down the drain.

To see it again, now, was torture; a punishment that he longed to endure, couldn’t help but self-inflict.  

And he hated himself for it.

So he unsheathes the blade from the holster strapped to his muscular thigh,  dying inside in the best of ways to hear you gasp at the touch of cool, smooth metal against your skin when he slides the tip beneath the strap at your shoulder and—

Snip.

—cuts, Jason stopping only when your bra had been stripped clean away, the memento falling to your feet in shreds, leaving you shaking not from fear but the violence of your utter attraction to this man before you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” 

Jason whispers, certain and resigned in the prophecy that slips past his lips as he bends to kiss your nipples, tongue painting warm, wet swathes about greedy mouthfuls of flesh.

And the feeling…the feeling…

…defies description; could not be put into words for all the books that topple from their neatly stacked piles to collapse into a mess of open pages on the ground when Jason climbs above you, pulling free of each article of clothing that would cage his bare skin from the touch of yours.

His naked body is exactly as you remembered it; aside from a few new scars and bruises, it was perfection all the same.  Bulky muscles shaping wide shoulders and thickening biceps and triceps, Jason is defined all the way from broad chest to the six-pack running down his torso.

You trace the midline of his abdomen, fingertip smoothing down to where his hands worked to unbuckle the belt at his tapered waist.  He struggles to smother a groan at your touch, head falling back to accentuate the bulge of the Adam’s apple in his throat when you reach into his pants to feel him:

Hard flesh engorged with heat, so large it was impossible to wrap your hand around him.

And as you began to stroke, twisting your wrist as you worked your grip up and down Jason’s length, stopping now and then to savour the weight of his balls in the cup of your palm, you remember:

How incredible it had felt to have him in you; Jason’s gaze refusing to relinquish its hold on your own as his hips drove their pendulum swing, fierce and relentless as both Red Hood’s friends and foes knew him to be.

That night, when Jason took you for the very first time, there was neither anger nor rage to be found.  Just pure, overflowing passion whose unfiltered source ultimately gave rise to every other emotion because Jason Todd was a man who felt deeply. He did not do things in halves because he didn’t know how to, and so he loved like he hated: with the entirety of his being.  And right here, right now, you began to tremble, wondering — anticipating — what would become of you, someone who he loved and hated in equal measure.

THRUST.

Without warning, he enters, pulling your crimson thong aside as he slides in to the hilt.  Jason seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every breathless gasp before he pulls away just to watch your eyes water from the sheer intensity of pleasure, gaze caressing over your face.

With Dick, intimacy had tended towards the gentle and leisurely; lovemaking that was sensual, meant to be savoured, not rushed.  But Jason…

…Jason fucked.

Movements orchestrated like his life — and yours — depended on it. Rough, intense.  Frenzied and wild.  Kisses peppered across your face to soothe the stretch of his sizeable cock, the decadent ache of him driving fast and deep into you before slowing to a churning grind, just to witness your eyes rolling to the back of your head, to hear your body speak to him in arousal wet and smeared between the desperate press of you and him.

Jason fucked you like an animal, fuelled by all the broken memories: a night of paradise forever lost, the bitter remembrances of your time with Dick and the ugly jealousy that could find no outlet other than his fists beating on the faces of Gotham’s criminal trash.  Jason never spoke a word about this to anyone, knowing that the day would come when he would tell you everything himself and so he does:

That he lived on your every last breath with each bruising kiss.

That you were the colour in his world when he holds you so tightly you could feel the pounding of his red, red heart in your chest.

That forever and a day wasn’t too long to wait for you with each punishing thrust.

Because for Jason Todd, you would always be the only person he loved, a memento in flesh and blood of the time he had truly understood what it meant to be…

…happy.

Thank you so much for reading and hope y'all enjoyed it!  Much love to each and every one of you! 💕 For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*re-on page (please see link in pinned post)!

👀👉🏼 Feel free to peep the Masterpost here!

"Memento" is copyright 2022 Otonymous, all rights reserved.

⚠️Please do not repost or translate my work in any form. 🙅🏻‍♀️ Reblogs, however, are perfectly fine and much appreciated! 🤩💕

#jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x reader smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd #red hood #dc smut #dc fanfiction #dc fanfic #kinktober 2022 #my writing #more angst than kink #lolol

[kiradrabbles]

Ouuggh uuu if you want maybe headcanons (if you do them ofc) w the Marble Hornets fellas (oh just Tim if I want :3) w a afab s/o who's a volleyball player?

Have u seen their uniforms???

Ouugh sorry this took a while....... i got halfway through and my phone crashed and i lost some motivation q-q

In any case, why yes nonny i have seen the uniforms, and i do take headcanon requests!

Without further adieu...

Tim, Brian and Alex with an AFAB S/O who plays volleyball!

Mild NSFW warning!! No graphic sex but a few suggestive things said (and the worlds shittiest pickup line)

Tim:

His awkward ass!!! I see a lot of people portray Tim as this cool confidant man, but especially pre-MH I think he was a little awkward. Not quite shy, just.. awkward, as he spent a lot of his childhood in the psych ward. So that would carry over to this.

He wouldn’t stare so visibly, but he’d make it obvious he had to try not to, averting his eyes and shuffling on his feet.

I think sometimes he’d steal looks when he thinks you aren’t looking. He’d glance over, and let out a little sigh and lean back in his chair just a little bit, and you know he’s just admiring you.

how did he get so lucky?

he isn’t a huge fan of sports himself, but he’ll try his best to support you!! He’ll turn up to every game he can, make sure to sit or stand in the front row, and cheer so loud everyone looks at him and he’ll sit back down in embarrassment.

Tim is a physical touch fiend, considering he didn’t get it a lot as a child, so he loves hugs, and will probably be touching you somehow often.

the problem is, when he hugs you in uniform, he is suddenly very acutely aware of how.. much he can see of you right now, and gets all red, and won’t tell you why.

you could probably force it out of him though :3

Brian:

This mf is into it and does not hide it!!

Brians pretty much a smug asshole in canon (lovingly) so he’ll be all smug and show you off to pretty much everyone. Will not hold back on the PDA either. Will probably slap your ass in public and act confused why you’re mad at him. (Only if he knows you don’t mind ofc).

i wouldn’t put it past him to run up to you as soon as you get in the game and quite literally pick you up and kiss you and spin you around, like some scene in a shitty movie.

most ATROCIOUS pickup lines ‼️

“Hey girl, are you an overpass? Because I’d hit that” “BRIAN I JUST SAT DOWN-“

He’s canonically a nursing student, so I’ve always imagined he takes pretty good care of himself, eat well, stay fit, workout often. So you two would match!

he’d be happy to train with you, one of his love languages is quality time, and he’d get to stare at his girl in short shorts and a top anyway, so who is he to complain?

plus, you’d both be all sweaty after, and he could invite you into the shower with him.

I’m sure you can imagine what ensues.

Alex:

He was intimidated at first. I mean, look at him, he’s a twinky theatre kid, and you’re.. muscular and not afraid to show it off, clearly. I mean you could probably pick him up and throw him around, or wrap your legs around his head, or- Not that he’s thinking about that (that he would admit).

he’d stare, but unlike Bri he does NOT own it.

he won’t admit it, but he will stare at you so much. sometimes unintentionally. He thinks he’s being subtle (he is not). I mean, how is it his fault that you’re really pretty and the shorts are so short.

it’s so easy to fluster him, even if he would rather die than admit it.

tsundere ass!!! /silly

Sit on his lap all sweaty after a game and he will turn the most red you've ever seen him and stutter like all hell. he isn't blushing red though, he doesn't know what you're talking about, he just forgot the sunscreen.

Your biggest fan!!!

He'll film your games (and you KNOW mf would get the best angles even if it meant pushing other onlookers out the way). Perks of a film maker bf...

He does want you to crush his head between your thighs i'm so sorry....

#Marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #alex Kralie x reader #Brian Thomas x reader #tim wright x reader #Headcanons #requests

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

What Kind of King is in my Blood?

Context: this piece was inspired by the song "In My Blood." sung by Joel Smallbone from Journey to Bethlehem (the movie). And contains the lyrics of the song.

Warning: content contains blood (mild) & implied physical abuse... the more graphic scenes to be underneath the keep reading section of the post... if you are uncomfortable with such things.

I've mentioned this before in a previous post & please check out the original video (have a listen: it's incredible). Or better yet, put it on while reading the comic. :D

I do suggest you read: Celestine is Merlin before this;

Young Arthur... was not a good person in the sightless and was very close to becoming a mini-Sir Uther. And I also would like to stress how evil Sir Uther is...(Uther is not Arthur's father, but the song just fits them so...)

Behind the arrogance and pride, his actions were a tie of wanting and seeking Uther's approval...

Other than that, please enjoy the content.

Background info: this takes place around the time Arthur starts to take a liking to Merlyn and even trust them (and before he found out Merlyn was Lady Celestine). Soon their game of cat & mouse blossomed into a friendship...

Celestine never put pressure on Arthur to change: in fact, she tried to save Nonsurat & Morgan, too... she'd put them in scenarios where she'd see them grow empathy. (Putting someone in another's shoes.)

She'd show them the damage the war was doing to the public... and the innocent.

Allowing them all the chance to do good but in the end...The only one who was receptive to it was Arthur. Which surprised her... she believed Arthur would be the last person who would be captivated by the lesson. (Since he was Uther's most loyal soldier... his right-hand man...)

When it was clear that the lessons were only effective for Arthur (and the only one who was willing to change), she started to tailor them for Arthur. Genuinely started by doing vigilante work with Merlyn and learning more about this "outside world he never knew about."

(Unbeknownst to these goobers these were pretty much the equivalent of dates.)

However, Arthur couldn't help but feel guilty that he was betraying his master (Uther). That all changed, however, after a certain mission...

Arthur & Company were tasked to clear a demon infestation of a cave. Which held serval rare artifacts that were stolen. Some of Nightmare's monsters had made it into a stronghold (a secret base), and Arthur was in charge of clearing it. Morgan tried to trap Arthur in the deeper, darkest part of the cave where the majority of the monsters were dwelling.

Thankfully, Celestine secretly tagged along with him!

It took them a week... to escape the cave ... everyone had started to assume that Arthur had died during the mission. He was about to report his return as soon as he arrived at the camp base until... he overheard a very upsetting conversation.

Sir Kay (Kit Cosmo): Sir Uther! Sir Arthur is still missing, we can't leave just yet...

Sir Uther: He's been missing for a week... we only have three days left on this planet, and we need to finish recovering the reset of the artifacts... our time & manpower is limited.

Kit Cosmo: It that's the case... I'd be more than willing to take a small team to recover him... heck, I'll even go there by myself if I have to...

Sir Uther: DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I SAID! I am not wasting manpower... are you questioning my judgment?

Kit Cosmo: NO SIR!* Nevourly but still firm* I just thought you'd press the issue more... he's our captain and, more importantly, your right-hand man-

Sir Uther: WHY do you think you have two other apprentices... he's replaceable...If he died out there then he's a failure that deserves to be left... DON'T NOT BOTHER LOOKING FOR HIM!

You're lucky I have more pressing issues to attend to or that right arm or yours would've been charred... This conversation is over! *leans into Kit menacingly* YOU'RE DISMISSED! *Kit lets out a big gulp and backs away out of the tent*

Little did they know Arthur & Celestine (Merlyn) were listening in on the conversation. With Celestine fuming... and with Arthur shaking...

Celestine (currently disguised as Merlyn): WHY THAT FAT HEADED TYRANT! Don't listen to him, you're- Arthur? *sees Arthurs gone* Arthur...

Arthur runs off to contemplate... his mind reeling from what he had just heard. He always knew that Uther saw him as nothing more than a tool. The title of the right hand was just merely a cover-up... a lie made by Sir Uther (that he was something to him). He always knew this, but he couldn't understand why this still hurt him so much.

Arthur, at his core... still just wanted to be praised and desperately wanted at least a shred of affection from Uther. Hearing this broke him instantly... and forced him to look inside himself. He may have always known it... but a part of him always wanted to believe in the lie... So he put this facade of pride and arrogance to ignore it.

Only realizing how much Uther took advantage of his desire for affection from him... allowing him (Uther) to mold him into what he wanted. The brilliant golden amor (that Uther gave him), was all part of the illusion... he was no hero... he was just a monster... just like his master... just like Uther...

This leads us to this scene...

-The key things I wanted to mention were those marks on Arthur's shoulders are burn marks...

-Those bubbles at the end represent Celestine's influence

-I featured a Kirby-sized baby Arthur with a little training armor... it's pretty much his inner child... Sweet little bean didn't deserve this

-I also updated Uther's shoes :3

At this point, Celestine already cares for Arthur so much, and he's already redeemed himself (in her eyes). But Arthur can't help but hate himself for his past actions now seeing the full picture...

He destroyed himself for a man... who would never care for him... Arthur couldn't help but feel ashamed. He felt so disgusted with himself... forgetting all the progress he'd made... Believing himself to be a worthless puppet...

And it broke her heart to see Arthur like this... that's why she reminds him of what she sees him as. And this is where Arthur finally breaks down his final wall and truly opens himself up. Celestine always saw Arthur as a more than worthy king and always saw the best in him... and that's why Arthur always saw her (in the future) as his queen...

"Did I put too much characterization to a background character we only saw for less than 5 minutes in the anime?" YES, I DID!

"Was it worth it?" YES IT WAS!

(In the KBASW) Sir Arthur is the one who approves and legitimizes the "Star Allies" because if someone like him could be changed for the better... why can't this rag-tag group. Sir Arthur (in a sense) is the first "redeemed villain"...

It just took one person to see the good in him... I really can't wait to explore their relationship (Celarthur) more... I have something special planned for them in February. And I do want to explore Kit Cosmo & Arthur's friendship: it's really fun~

(The Star Allies are going to be the equivalent of the Knights of the Round Table in KBASW, but I'll explore that later...)

Hope you all stick around to see how the story unfolds...

#kirby #kbasw #sir arthur kirby #sir arthur #sir uther #kirby oc #lady celestine #kirby anime #celarthur #kirby gsa #merlyn #journey to bethlehem #kirby right back at ya #krbay

[hunterssm00n]

Deal / part 3 /

What first starts out as a cruel prank turns into a night of unmatched passion. | Waylon Jones/OC |

part 3 of 3

also on ao3: here

*cw include smut, explicit situations, size kink, teratophilia, fear play, dirty talk, anxiety attack, extremely mild dubcon (for point one second but tagging just in case), graphic description* MDNI - 18+

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

/ / Devour / /

If you chose to stay a little bit longer I'd make it worth your while...

There was no way I was leaving now.

I nodded at Croc, looking into his yellow eyes with affirmation. In those glowing orbs surprise shown momentarily, but he quickly let out another one of his trademark gravelly laughs as though to cover it up. Not for the first time, I felt a squeeze of pity in my heart for him. Everyone thought he was a monster; everyone said he was nothing more than an animal. But he had shown me empathy, fairness, and kindness. None of which the very much human guards and orderlies, who had thrown me in here in the first place, had shown me. This so-called "monster" treated me better than those scumbag "normal" humans did. As far as I was concerned, I felt safer in here, with him, Waylon Jones, than I did out there with my coworkers. 

I licked my lips as he crawled back up my body, his hulking form covering me completely, like a large, protective cocoon. A massive claw-tipped hand came up to brush away pieces of my hair that were stuck to my face from sweat and exertion. If he tried, he was clearly capable of gentleness though the movement from him felt almost uncertain. Violence and brute force came easily to him, being a man that's had to fight for his life for his whole life. Gentleness was something he was not used to. So tonight, I was determined to show him some. 

I reached up my right hand from where it had been down at my side, previously clutching at the mattress while he'd been doing his extremely kind ministrations to my lower region, and brought it slowly up to his face, which was only about a foot above mine. I made sure to move carefully so as not to startle him, and I gently ran my fingertips up from his scaly jaw to his equally rough cheek. The scales on his face weren't any smoother than his chest; in fact they were rougher, his complexion cracked and unforgiving under my soft fingertips. This did not deter me from my journey, and I really hoped he was okay with my exploration of his visage. My eyes looked to his in a silent question, asking permission, and I saw no resistance in those yellow orbs - only unspoken encouragement. So I kept going.

I cupped his scaly, broad jawline in my palm, stroking my thumb over the corner of his mouth and the sharp, non-human teeth that protruded from the inside. I smoothed my hand over his head, traced his brow, his nose, his chin, everywhere. He submitted to my study, reptilian eyes watching me curiously the whole time. The feel of his gaze on me made my own face grow hot, and the arousal began creeping back between my legs, my skin becoming tingly all over once again. I continued my explorative touches on him, moving my hand down his thick, sinewy neck, running my fingers over the ridges of skin and the hard muscle underneath. The back of his head and neck had rougher, pointy looking scales that continued on down his spine, and maybe even beyond the tops of his pants.

From working in the clerks office I had seen many pictures of him, from all angles. Now I got to feel; something that admittedly I had given some thought to before. From looking at those photographs of him when I was filing his paperwork all those times before, I'd wondered what it would be like to touch him - and to have him touch me. I'd wondered what kind of lover he would be; what it would take to make this big man weak. At the time I'd thought of it as just another one of my strange fantasies - especially considering the content of some of the photos in his file. I'd had no idea that I would be actually living this fantasy someday. 

"What're you smilin' at, pretty one?" 

His gruff but not unkind question made my cheeks burn; I hadn't realized I'd been smiling. Swallowing hard, I asked something that had been fluttering around in the back of my mind since we'd made it to his mattress - and once I'd found out for certain that he was not going to kill me and eat my body, "Can I request an addition to this deal?" 

Croc's eyes glimmered with curious amusement, and he tilted his large, muscular head at me inquiringly, "Sure thing- what'd ya have in mind?" 

Now I really felt the blush heat my cheeks, and honestly I didn't know for what reason. This man had already eaten me out - like, practically devoured me - and here he was on top of me, half naked from the waist up, while I was half naked from the waist down. But I chalked up the heat on my face up to just the way he looked at me; so predatory, so hungry, so... intimately, like he could see right through me into my very soul. Nothing escaped that golden gaze, and there was no doubt in my mind that he could definitely see the heat rising on my face and neck... and elsewhere, too. I knew reptiles could sense heat, and that was how they hunted. So maybe that had been another factor during our first encounter in the office hallway last week. Maybe along with him smelling my desire, he had seen how warm everything got when he'd touched me. But honestly, when I'd been face to face with this brick wall of a torso, caged in between massive arms and imposing height, and held frozen by yellow eyes that watched me with a true hunters attention and precision - how the fuck could I not be turned on by that?

He was waiting for an answer, and I licked my lips to moisten them since my quick, shallow breathing had dried them out, noticing how that ever watchful predatory gaze flicked down to my mouth. Oh, god... "If- I'll, um, I'll trade a kiss for... for..." Fuck, I hadn't thought that far ahead. A kiss for what? For him fucking me senseless? No, that was already going to happen regardless. Think, think. It was so hard to think in this moment, though. With him shirtless and crouched over me like a predator that had just taken down his prey, and practically salivating while more than ready to devour his meal. And thinking was not the only thing that was hard at the moment; I could feel how hard and hot and massive his erection was, straining through his pants and pulsing against my bare leg. And it hadn't gone down at all, even though at the moment all we were doing was talking and studying each other. If anything, it felt like it had gotten harder, and bigger. What did that mean?

He grinned, not unkindly, while seeing me struggle (and I bet he'd grin even more to see me struggling in other ways; god help me, these thoughts were going to kill me if he didn't do it first), but then he decided to help me out by saying, "Tell ya what; a kiss for," He reached a massive hand up in between us and hooked a claw into the collar of my scrub shirt, lightly pulling it away from my chest, but not hard enough to tear it, though I knew he could, easily. My pants could attest to that, as could the bones strewn around the floor of his 'room'. "This coming off." 

Oh. It really was that simple. Why hadn’t I thought of that? In all honesty, I'd nearly forgotten about my shirt that I was still wearing; I felt completely naked and exposed under his gaze, even when I'd been fully clothed. 

Eagerly, maybe a little too eagerly, I nodded my head against the mattress underneath him, and his low chuckle caused a fresh gush of wetness to leak out of my bare pussy. My chest was heaving underneath him, and his index claw was still hooked into the collar of my shirt. I wanted him to tear it off of me right now, but I forced myself to stay under control. Plus he hadn't torn it off yet, so he was probably waiting for me to make the first move, since I'd been the one to bring up this new bargain. I mustered up all of the sexy feminine energy I had within me and smoothed my palms over his huge shoulders. "Well, what're you waiting for, big guy? C'mon down here and kiss me." 

His mouth quirked in a grin that showed nearly all of those rows and rows of sharp, inhuman teeth, and he huffed incredulously at me once again before leaning his body down to better be able to reach me, "I meant what I said before; you're somethin' else, little Kris." 

The nickname sent a shiver through me, the use of my name on his tongue sounding so good, and even more so combined with his other nickname for me. Little one, little Kris. God dayum. 

Before I could say anything else, he leaned down and covered my mouth with his. And quite literally covered. 

When I'd thought about kissing him I'd wondered how a kiss would work between the two of us. Sure, he had a mouth, with a tongue, so technically he also had lips. Honestly, I didn't really care about the quality of the kiss itself, more about just having that connection. Much like everything else he was doing to me and making me feel, it was like a physical need. I needed to feel those rough lips on mine, claiming me that way too; needed to feel his long, forked tongue in my mouth. It was like I'd been returned to my basest form where human and societal standards and formalities had all gone out the door, and all that was left was this primally charged exposed nerve. 

And I was not at all disappointed when our mouths locked in a desire fueled battle for dominance - though there was really no question as to who was winning that battle. Quite honestly, that was just fine with me, because I didn't want to win. 

His lips were still scaly and rough, though not as much as the rest of his face. More like the scales that covered his chest and belly, smoother and lighter in color. But just abrasive enough for me to get the shivers at the feel of them lightly scratching my own soft lips. And that reaction increased tenfold whenever I felt one of his teeth against my lip, or whenever my tongue glided over one of those sharp canines. His mouth was much wider than mine, but he was being careful to not open his mouth too wide and accidentally (or maybe purposely) bite my lips off. But weirdly enough I liked the danger of knowing that he could if he wanted to. I liked the mutual feelings of fear and arousal at the thought that he could kill me at any moment - which sounded silly considering I'd practically begged for my life earlier. But I didn't care; I knew I was a complete mess here on this mattress underneath him, Waylon Jones aka Killer Croc, while we made out like two horny teenagers. I ignored the stench of the rotting, dead meat on his breath; I literally switched that part of my brain off. That was how turned on I was, and how much I enjoyed this kiss. It was addictive.

That long, forked tongue scraped the roof of my mouth, and I eagerly sucked on the tip of it when he went to draw it back. A reptilian hiss escaped his parted jaw at my willingness to please, to make sure he was enjoying this as much as I was. His dick in his pants was still hot, hard and pulsing against the inside of my thigh, and I felt it give a jump when I lightly dragged my teeth across his bottom lip. 

"You tryin'a kill me?" he groaned against my lips. The gravelly undertone always present in his voice made his words come out in a growl, which made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. He pulled back from my mouth slowly, reluctantly, a string of saliva still connecting our lips. Who knew if it was mine or his - most likely it was both of ours mingled together. I could feel it all over my mouth, my cheeks, my chin. And the more he pulled back I could see that his green face was also shiny with our mixed fluids, and some of it was dripping off of his chin and onto my shirt. And speaking of my shirt...

Croc leaned back so he could fully see me underneath him, and that grin was ever present on his face as he surveyed the scene before him: me, splayed out on his mattress, my dark hair probably strewn everywhere around my head like some sort of dark halo, face covered in drool and sweat, eye makeup probably smeared and running all over my cheeks, lips probably red from kissing his. I probably looked like the mess I felt like. Yet that desire in his gaze never faltered. 

When his large lands went to my shirt, a stupid voice of reason yelled out in my mind, and I faltered, "Um- before you rip that, I... I don't... I'll need something to walk out of here in... my stuff is all still in the office..." I felt stupid saying all of that, but it was the truth. I couldn't just walk out of here stark naked and go to the clinic to get my purse and keys; there were cameras everywhere.  

He paused for a moment when I spoke, yellow eyes flicking to mine, probably to make sure I wasn't about to tell him to stop (hell no), and once he registered what I'd said he visibly relaxed in what I could tell was relief. And I had no doubt, even only knowing him for this brief amount of time, that if I asked him to stop, he would. 

He appeared to think for a moment, a brief moment, and then very quickly after he concluded, "I have some things you can wear outta here." 

I hadn't known he had other clothes down here, which made me feel a little bit better about his current living situation - not much, but at least it was something. I'd never been happy about the Asylum's decision to put him down here like an animal, rather than putting him in a cell or a room like the other inmates. I thought it was incredibly dehumanizing. When I'd brought it up to the director he'd told me it was for "everyone else's safety, and for Croc's own safety", whatever that bullshit meant.

I must have nodded or given him some kind of non-verbal go ahead because immediately after his big scale covered hands grabbed two handfuls of my shirt at the modest V neckline. With one more look at my eyes to confirm that this was okay, he pulled at the fabric and my black scrub shirt tore right down the middle. My whole body felt warm and tingly all over; his display of strength was such a turn on. It had been when he'd carried me here, it had been when he'd held me down on the mattress after I'd been afraid he was going to eat me, and it still was now. I knew he'd barely had to exert any strength at all to rip the thin material, but it was still hot. The way his massive biceps flexed when he moved his arms to pull the tattered pieces of my shirt off of my arms? Hot. Hot as fuck. 

I knew he was strong; judging by his size alone, anyone could tell that he possessed immense strength. Standing at at least eight feet tall, and with more brawn than a pro-wrestler, it was easy to see. Physical strength was a huge turn on for me, and so was his size; he was so much larger than me. His biceps were bigger than my thighs, and his upper half had a V shape to it that made me want to actually drool. With every move he made I could see the muscles rippling under his skin; slithering like snakes underneath his own scales. Ugh, I'd be lucky to walk out of here alive. If he wasn't going to kill me on purpose then his hotness would kill me on accident. 

I also knew from his file in the clerks office that he had done cage fighting and, ahem, alligator and crocodile wrestling - like, where he actually wrestled alligators and crocodiles. Wrestled the animal that had the strongest bite force in the animal kingdom. And he'd done that often. The thought of him in the water, his scales gleaming and dripping wet, muscles flexing as he wrestled his opponent, more animal than man when he needed to be... I needed to stop. I seriously needed to stop. 

With a claw slid underneath the front of my bra in between the cups, he shredded through that much like he had done with my shirt. His sharp nails gently scraped over my skin as he pulled the ruined scraps of material away from my body, and my breasts fell free of any confinement before him. Those reptilian eyes immediately zeroed in on the two mounds of flesh, that low crocodilian hiss emanating from him once again. My nipples pebbled into hard peaks without him even having to touch me, just simply from the heat of that fiery golden gaze. When he did touch me my vision went hazy with need. He lightly dragged the tips of his claws over my soft skin, very lightly so as not to scratch or break the skin. It was just this side of teasing, and it felt so good. Too good. His hot, scaly fingertips skimmed the undersides of my breasts, thumbs tracing around my hard nipples. When his large, scalding palms closed over my tits I couldn't help the moan that drifted out of my throat, all high pitched and needy. His hands were so big they completely encapsulated my twin B-cups, and when he lightly squeezed, my own hands curled into fists on either side of my body atop the mattress. 

"Pretty little morsel," he ground out above me, voice strained with arousal as he kneaded my tender flesh, "you look good enough to eat," 

My vision refocused on him as he leaned back down towards my body, long tongue coming out of his wide mouth to swipe at a nipple. I whimpered at the feeling; even though it was my breast he was licking, the feeling shot straight down between my legs like an electric current. That tongue continued tracing around my diamond hard nipple, his hot breath scorching my flesh. I trembled beneath him, every lash of his forked tongue sending amazing sensations down below. That coupled with his huge, warm hands cupping the undersides of my mounds to keep my nipples ripe and perked out towards his mouth was almost too much to handle. This whole thing was so hot. I'd never been so glad that I agreed to a trade before.

That tongue explored further over the soft skin of my chest, tracing around my whole breast now, and when he let his sharp teeth lightly skim the sensitive underside my whole body shivered. He switched sides and did the same treatment to my other breast, and by the time he leaned back once again I felt like a literal livewire, my body reacting to every small touch, and every promise of a touch. 

When he began removing his own pants I couldn't help the gulp that lodged itself in my throat. Here was a very, very large man before me. What on earth would such a large man's cock look like? Well, I was about to find out. I watched in anticipation tinged with nervous energy as he expertly unfastened and unzipped his own pants despite his inch long claws, and I felt my scalp tingling with excitement. 

Usually when I pleasured myself, I was one and done; if I wanted to go again I had to wait at least half an hour, sometimes longer, and even then it was sometimes hard to get back into the same frame of mind as before. But right now I felt very much ready - turned on with the same intensity that I had been before the first climax. It was like that one had slicked me up, and now I was ready to continue; like that was the delicious first part of a multiple course meal. I had been satisfied, but not satiated.

Croc propped himself up with one massive arm near my shoulder, his elbow on the mattress as his other hand shoved his pants down his body, and I looked down, not knowing fully what to expect, but knowing I was about to be wowed. When the monster appendage sprang free from the confines of his wet pants I felt my breath catch in my throat, as well as my pussy becoming swollen with desire. How the fuck was I going to take that?! Much like the rest of him, his member was covered in scales, and was the same mottled, dark green color, although from what I could tell by looking, the scales appeared to be much smoother here, like the ones on his taut lower abdomen. Much like the scales on a snake, it seemed (an anaconda, to be exact); smooth but still very different from a normal human cock. While the base and length was more of that same mottled green color, the tip was pink, and he was extremely swollen and leaking with arousal. Upon seeing it, I felt my mouth water. I wanted to put it in my mouth, though I knew the whole thing would not fit, maybe not even half of it. Ever tried fitting a whole footlong sub in your mouth? Cuz that was what this monster looked like. But I wanted to do it anyways. I wanted to make him feel good like he'd made me feel good.

The thought of him putting that monster thing inside me didn't scare me nearly as much as it should have, though I did get a small thrill of anxiety up my spine at the thought of being filled so heartily. I also was very glad that I wasn't a virgin, as I could only imagine the discomfort of such a big, thick cock breaking me in half. While I was still nervous, I was also filled with want. The desire was making it feel like my loins were on fire.

"Like what ya see, pretty one?" He grinned down at me, and his golden eyes gleamed at me. I noticed, not for the first time, that his pupils, normally vertical slits like those of a reptile, were almost fully blown out in his state of arousal. I was pretty sure mine looked the same.

I nodded at his statement, licking my lips. He was going to stretch me so good; maybe even split me in half. That one annoying little morsel of fear in me wondered if I would be able to even take him; if it would hurt. I hated that stupid little voice, it was such a debbie downer. 

Croc leaned down closer to me, now that he was also completely bare, and that long, slimy tongue came out of his mouth to lick a line up my stomach and between my breasts. I shivered; there was such an animalistic way he was handling me, though he was considerably gentle and concerned with my well-being. All of those things combined made me stupid hot for him. 

His tongue leaked out of his mouth to lick at the underside of my right breast; long, thick tongue so strange on my skin. I barely had time to register that feeling before the forked tip passed over my nipple and made me feel like a zap of pleasure went straight down my body to the area between my legs. I arched into his mouth, my hands finding his scaly, ribbed shoulders as he hovered over me. The fire down below burned hot, and the only thing that could make it into the inferno that it needed to be was his monster dick.

As if he'd read my mind, yellow eyes gleaming at me, he asked me, "You a virgin, little one?" 

I shook my head no, and I honestly thought about asking him the same thing, just out of general curiosity. Though I wasn't super experienced by far, I'd had a couple of boyfriends in the past, and two of them had been my only sexual partners. However, it had never been like this.

One of his large hands drew up towards my face, a big, thick finger sliding underneath my chin to turn my face towards him to look into his eyes. "Don't sweat it, little one, I ain't either. Hope I didn't offend ya by asking - just wanted to make sure so I don't hurt ya; I'm pretty big, and you're, well," Here, he grinned at me, "a little one." I couldn't help but smile at him, at that. "And if my tongue filled you that good," His reptilian eyes glimmered dangerously down at me, "I can't even fuckin' imagine how tight you're gonna be around my dick." 

His crass, explicit words sent a zing of pleasure up my spine, and I hoped he continued his graphic description once he was finally seated inside of me. It was yet another thing that I thought was hot about him; that voice made me wet, especially because I could feel it rumbling throughout my whole body when he spoke.

He moved a little bit down my body now, and I felt my heartrate speed up in anticipation of what was about to happen. I'm about to be fucked by the crocodile man in the lowest levels of my workplace. And though I was beyond horny and desperate for him, I was also a little nervous about how exactly I was going to take that massive cock inside of me. How the hell was it going to even fit? Would it hurt the whole time? I couldn't help the anxious thoughts swirling around in my mind.

The large man above me leaned back on his haunches, right over my knees, and I now had the best view of his naked body I'd had yet. Big barrel chest, massive dick staring straight at me, pointed nearly vertical towards the old brick ceiling over our heads, and yellow eyes that seemed to glow from within, tracing over every inch of my also naked form beneath him. It should have made me self conscious, the way he was looking at me, but it didn't. 

As if he'd read my mind once again (could he read my mind? Was that one of his crocodile superpowers?), he brought one of his massive, claw tipped hands up to his face, and that tongue came out to coat his open palm and fingers with a thick layer of saliva. I was still incredibly wet from my own arousal and from what he'd done to me with his mouth before, but I was very glad for the extra precaution. He kept eye contact with me the whole time, making me warm and tingly all over, and when his tongue slithered back into that mouth his hand was dripping with saliva. I watched with baited breath as he lowered that hand to the area between my legs, his other hand gently spreading my thighs wider so he could kneel between them. I was now wide, wide open before him, like a goddamn oyster. The first touch of one of his fingers against my pussy had me clenching around nothing, and I would have been embarrassed at the wet sound it made if I wasn't so turned on. He generously spread the fluid around my entrance, using so much of the saliva coated on his hand I could feel it running down the crack of my ass. Not that I minded one bit.

He let a wet finger wander up to my clit to give it a stroke, grinning widely when I squeaked and my legs instantly tried to clamp shut from the ticklish, intense feeling - except they couldn't because he was knelt between them. "That's not n-" My words were cut off by one of his massive fingers prodding at my entrance, and replaced by a gasp that came from my throat instead. Yes. Yes. Yes. Careful of his claw, I felt the very tip of that finger enter me, and was relieved to feel no pain or resistance. His tongue really had slicked me up good before. That first finger slid in rather easily thanks to all the lube of his saliva, plus my body's own personal lubricant that it was providing. Additionally my desperation and eagerness helped, and by the time that finger was fully seated inside of me I was grinding against his hand, panting and trembling atop the mattress. Once he'd seen that I'd gotten used to the first finger, I felt a second one prod at my entrance, and this was where I began to worry a bit. I tried to immediately relax my muscles and relax my mind, and not think about the fact that each one of his fingers were the size of corndogs. Each of them alone were thicker than any cock I'd ever seen. And while he was clearly trying to be careful I was still worried about what that claw could do to the insides of my most sensitive areas. 

Upon seeing the expression on my face he immediately paused in his movements and asked me, "You okay, little one? Ya want me to stop?"

I was relieved by his concern and attentiveness towards me, and swallowing hard I shook my head no. I wanted this to happen; it was going to happen one way or another. "I'm okay, k-keep going."

His hand stayed still a moment longer while those eyes studied my face, probably to make sure I really was okay like I'd said, but he must have been satisfied by what he saw because then he continued. That second thick appendage started to slide forward into me once again, alongside the first one, but this time his thumb came up to rub my clit, probably to distract me from thinking too much about the intrusion and the stretch. And that definitely worked; the more his thumb drew circles around my nub, the farther the thought of the burn and the stretch and his claws went from my mind. It wasn't long before I was whining and squirming on top of the mattress from the intensity of the feeling; that scaly finger rubbing his saliva all around my sensitive bud was too good for me to be worrying about anything at all. 

"Halfway there, pretty one. Ya still doin' okay?" he asked, and I hadn't realized I'd been squeezing my eyes shut from the pleasurable assault of his thumb continually circling my clit until now. I opened my eyes to see him looking straight at me, amusement quirking one corner of his mouth. The feeling of two of his thick fingers in me was no longer worrisome; now I wanted more. I wanted his whole hand inside me. The stretch was no longer burning but pleasurable. Realizing he was waiting for an answer I quickly nodded my head, and he chuckled as I lifted my hips to try to take in more of those fingers. And I also made a quick mental note to tell him afterwards how much I appreciated him checking in with me to make sure I was okay. Heartless, murderous animal my ass. Those people upstairs didn't know what the hell they were talking about. 

Croc slowly slid the second finger the rest of the way in, mindful still of the claw at the tip. By the time it was as far in as it would go, less he risk hurting me, I was eagerly thrusting against his hand and headed steadily towards the freight train of pleasure that would be my second orgasm of the night. "Oh, god," I whimpered, the scaly finger on my clit combined with the thick appendages deep inside of me combined with those eyes watching me... All were the catalysts for my rapidly approaching pleasure. "Croc, I'm gonna cum,"

"Yeahh do it, baby doll," he hissed, "anything that's gonna slick up this tight little pussy, you're tight as fuck around my big fingers and you're gonna be even tighter around my big cock, ain'cha?"

His words and his voice pushed me over the edge, and my body writhed on top of the mattress as the pleasure exploded between my legs; I cried out as the tidal wave pulled me under in the best way, drowning me in sensation. The rushing of blood in my ears as I was coming down was all consuming, but underneath I could still hear his rasping voice quipping, "Guess my relaxation method worked a little too well, huh?" 

I was breathing heavily, shaking, coming down from the pleasurable high, but I couldn't resist responding, "If y-you didn't want me to c-cum then you s-shouldn't have been t-touching me so g-good..." 

Here he let out a laugh, and I was finally able to open my eyes again to look at his face as he grinned down at me, showcasing those sharp teeth in his wide mouth, "Ohh pretty one I want you to cum - as many times as ya fuckin' can would be preferable. And next time I want you to cum around my cock."

Yesss, my brain whispered to me. The thought of being impaled by his huge member and forced to cum over and over was going to haunt me, I knew. In a good way.

Croc slowly removed those two thick fingers from my womb, making me shudder at the feeling of going from completely stuffed full to barren. At the same time he brought his other hand up to his mouth like he had done before, and this time he spat into his open palm. He then brought that hand down to his hard member, which was swollen and leaking precum at the tip, and smeared the fluid all along his impressive length. He gave it a few strokes up and down, eyes on me all the while, and my cheeks would have flooded with heat if not for the fact that I was still lying boneless atop the mattress from the second explosive orgasm of the evening he'd given me. And even more so when he brought the hand that had been fingerfucking me up to his mouth and sucked my juices off of his fingers. Who had given him the right to be this hot? 

Now he placed both of his hands on my hips, pulling me towards him on top of the mattress, and keeping my legs open, he fit my thighs comfortably over his and around his waist. This was happening - this was really happening. Killer Croc was about to raw me in his bed. He drew my hips towards his, and I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt the thick mushroom head of his dick rubbing up and down my slit. "You ready for me, little Kris?" he intoned, voice low and yellow eyes burning bright under his low brow.

Swallowing hard, I nodded. "Yes, please, Waylon, give me your dick,"

His whole body noticeably shuddered at my words, and his grip on my waist tightened as he began to push forward, the thick head spreading my wet pussy lips open for me to take him inside of me. My body was still prone below him on the mattress, muscles too tired to be tensed, so this was as good a time as any for him to put it in me. 

The head slid into me and my pussy made a wet, slurping noise, and we both gasped at the feeling. He was tense all over but was showing an astonishing amount of self control, reptilian eyes burning fiercely as he breathed out in harsh rasps. "Fuck, little one - you sure ya ain't a virgin?" he rasped out, and I couldn't tell if the question was meant to be serious or not, but I giggled anyway, which turned into another sharp intake of breath as he slid in a couple of centimeters more. If I had still been a virgin, trying to take in this monstrous cock would have broken me in half. 

He continued sliding in slowly, very slowly, guiding my hips towards his almost like he was afraid to thrust forward. His eyes were trained on our conjoining genitals, watching rapt as my pussy swallowed his cock. What would happen if this man lost control? My mind was so clouded with pleasure at the moment that I honestly didn't care if he lost control and just pounded away, but knowing how vast our size difference was, the logical part of me wanted him to keep taking it as slow as possible. Even though he had stretched me out on his fingers it was still a tight fit; there was an ever so slight burn that I knew would fade over time. I was extremely thankful for the extra lubrication provided by him as well as the multiple climaxes - without any of that I knew this would have gone a lot harder/more difficult. I knew I would have been so tense that he might not have been able to enter me at all. 

When the crown of his dick nudged against my cervix I gasped a little and he immediately paused in his movements. His hands were clamped around my waist so tight I knew I would have bruises there tomorrow, shading my skin in the shape of his huge palms and long fingers. He'd hit my body's natural stopping point and there was still more of his dick to go, but thankfully he didn't press any further. Instead, those yellow eyes flicked to mine and he asked, "You good?" And atop the mattress I nodded my head once again in answer and acknowledgement. I felt so full like I was ready to burst, but the sting was ebbing away, and I could feel every vein and ridge of his cock against my inner walls. I couldn't even make a sound, the feelings were so intense. And good.

Slowly he began to draw back, very slowly, almost torturously, and he pulled his hips back all the way until it was only the bulbous head of his member still inside of me. And right when I was about to make a noise of protest he began pushing back in, and I choked out a moan at the sheer size of him gliding into my wet channel. He was still going slowly, but gone was the burn, and it was replaced by sheer need; wet, throbbing, pulsing need. And the only one who could satisfy me was him. When the tip of him reached my inner stopping point once again he immediately began pulling back, and my breath went out in a whoosh of air, until he pushed back in, making me let out a needy whine. Now that there was no resistance he didn't have to go as slow anymore, and his pace picked up slightly. He could probably tell by the noises I was making that everything was more than okay, anyways. Every time he pushed himself back into me I saw stars. 

"Oh Croc- Waylon!"

"Am I hurtin' ya, sweetheart?" 

"N-No just please, k-keep going,"

"You got it; look at you, takin' me like a champ," 

His praise made the simmering heat in my belly turn into a molten flame, and with every thrust of his hips he stoked the fire within me. He still wasn't going as hard as I knew he probably could, but each thrust had my breasts bouncing on my chest. My god, I'd never felt so full. This type of pleasure was on another level. If he went any harder or deeper I knew I would see the head of his cock bulging against my lower belly. At the moment my vision was so hazy from all the stars and feelings he was making me experience that the only things my eyes could focus on were his two golden orbs floating somewhere above me, and his sharp teeth gleaming. He looked so deliciously frightening in the dim lighting of his abode, and I was once again reminded at who exactly was fucking me silly on top of his mattress.

"Fuck," Croc lowered his head, rounding his broad, scaly shoulders as his hips continued pumping in and out of me steadily, "I can't hold out much longer..." His huge hands began to dig his nails into my hips, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel good. The little pinpricks of pain made the pleasure between my legs all the more intense. It wasn't long before I was eagerly meeting his thrusts, chasing the inevitable, impending climax that I knew was coming, and fast. 

I squeezed my legs around his hips and stretched my arms above my head, trying to push myself as far down on his cock as my body could go, arching my back to the sensation. "I'm close," I whined, and it was so close I could practically taste it. 

Croc's thrusts became more pronounced then too, more punctuated and aimed to hit my spots. He removed one of those huge hands from my hips and slotted it between my legs as much as he could fit it to rub my clit, "Come on, little Kris, cum on my cock, milk me dry with this tight little pussy,"

His voice rasping out such explicit, dirty words was my undoing, combined with that scaly finger on my clit, and I was cumming hard, spiraling down the rabbit hole of pleasure, crying out his name, his real name. As soon as my walls clamped down around his member I felt it twitch violently inside me, and the hand that still remained on my hip flew off of me to dig his claws with surprising speed into the dingy mattress aside my head. He roared his release like the sound an actual crocodile would make when it was pissed beyond belief, and I felt his hot seed spill inside of me like lava. The fabric of the mattress material tearing beside my ear made just the right amount of fear liquify my bones, along with the explosive climax, and combined they made it the most intense feeling of pleasure I'd ever experienced. 

His hips eventually slowed as did the flow of his own release inside of me, and my walls slowly ceased their pulsing around him, the thunderous rushing of blood in my ears ebbing with each heartbeat.

The last thing I remember seeing before passing out from pure exhaustion was his yellow eyes looking deep into mine. And then I succumbed to the throes of sleep; the quickest I'd ever fallen into slumber.

X.x

Hot. Why was it so hot?

I blinked my eyes open sleepily, my body damp with sweat, and my right side completely burning. I felt like I had fallen asleep in an oven. It was only when I looked up and saw the brick ceilings with the dim lighting, and felt movement on my right side that I remembered where I was.

Holy. Fuck.

The memories of however long ago came violently flooding back to me, and with flushed cheeks I slowly turned my gaze to my right to see a massive, green, scale covered body sidled up next to me atop the mattress. My eyes traveled up the impressive expanse of him - still naked, I noticed with my pulse picking up rapidly - and when I got to those yellow eyes I swore I felt my heartbeat falter. He'd already been looking at me, a calm, content expression on his face, leaning on one elbow and his head propped up off of the mattress while the other casually rested on my right hip. 

I gave him a small smile, my face burning from the heat - which I now knew was coming from him - and from my own weirdness during social situations. I really hoped I didn't make this awkward; I'd never had a one night stand before. "Hi," I squeaked out, feeling my sore pussy muscles clench when his mouth quirked in a grin, and his reptilian eyes gleamed.

"Mornin'. How ya feelin' pretty one?" 

"Um..." I went over the mental checklist of my body in my mind, trying to consider everything I was feeling at the moment: my legs felt stiff from having been held open so wide before while he'd been fucking me, my pussy was sore from his thick fingers and thicker cock that had stretched me and drilled into me, my hips were already bruised, I could tell, from him squeezing them and unintentionally cutting me with his claws. Plus I was covered in sweat, saliva, and cum. But goddamn, I'd never been so satisfied. "Sore," I admitted, and he let out a chuckle that twisted my insides deliciously, "but good. How about you?" 

"No complaints here, little one." He punctuated this with a grin, showcasing those rows and rows of sharp teeth. I realized in this moment that I was not afraid of him - and honestly, I didn't know if I ever really had been. Of course, I'd been scared of what he could have done to me if he decided he wanted to make a snack out of me, but those thoughts no longer plagued my mind. I felt... content. Like I'd befriended someone and was getting to know them, only to find out that we had a lot more in common than we'd initially thought. Or like I was on a date that was going really well. It was hard to explain, but I felt good. 

Then of course I thought about yucky adult responsibilities and let out a groan. "Do you know what time it is?" I asked him. I didn't want to ruin either one of our good moods by being the responsible one, but unfortunately my daily anxiety meant my mind was rarely ever at rest.

The large man next to me shrugged the shoulder he wasn't leaning on currently, and answered, "Still early, or late, whichever ya like. You've only been out a couple hours. Can't give ya an exact time, though - no clocks down here." He said it lightly, but instead of finding it humorous I once again found myself feeling empathy for him. They really did treat him like a monster down here.

I shook my head, looking up at the crumbling brick ceiling above us. "I'll get you a clock." I replied quietly. And a pillow, and a blanket, for gods sake.

"Aw, don't sweat, little one. You don't hafta bring me nothin' - don't trouble yourself." 

I turned my gaze back on him, fixing him with a look; I'd already made up my mind. "It's no trouble; you deserve basic human amenities just like everyone else. I don't like these conditions you're living in - I didn't know if was this bad."

He smiled genuinely at me, not unkindly, and there was a glimmer of something in his eyes as he said, "It's no skin off my nose, little one. Better than being in a cell, that's for damn sure." 

"But you don't even have a clock, you barely have a bed... do you even have a bathroom and a shower down here?" Did he really not see anything wrong with the way he'd been living? Had society really brainwashed him that much that he thought he didn't deserve any better? 

Well, I would see to it that things changed for the better - whether he liked it or not. 

"I make do," He shrugged once again, like it really was no big deal. "Plus, someone opens the hatch and throws soap down here every once in a while. Don't think they want me around the other inmates. 'Fraid I might do somethin'... violent." Here, he winked a yellow eye at me with a side grin. "That'd be like putting a bunch'a steaks in front of a starving mutt." 

I rolled my eyes - I actually rolled my eyes at him, Killer Croc. I could see that I wasn't going to get anywhere tonight trying to get him to see things from my perspective, but I internally resolved that I wasn't going to let the issue go. Instead of arguing the point further, I simply told him, "Well, I'll at least bring you a small alarm clock. I've got a spare." 

Here he grinned dangerously, fangs on full display. "Well, I definitely won't say no to seeing you again," Those golden eyes wandered slowly up and down my naked form, and I shivered under his gaze. I definitely wouldn't say no to seeing him again, either, that was for sure.

Unfortunately, though, I knew I had to get going. I didn't want to run into the morning cleaning staff when getting my things out of the office, especially not in the state I was in. I knew it would only lead to questions. And since I didn't know the exact time, I figured it was probably better to go sooner rather than later... though I really didn't want to.

I looked up at Croc, laying next to him on the mattress, and told him, "I should probably go..."

Disappointment flashed in his golden gaze, but he didn't argue the point. I hoped he knew that I wasn't leaving because of him, so I quickly added sternly, "But I'll be back with that clock."

His face lit with a grin, reptilian eyes gleaming with genuine joy, "You can come back anytime. Don't hafta bring me nothin', either; just your pretty little self." I could tell he was trying to sound casual, as was I, but my heart was beating furiously in my chest in a way that was anything but. And there was no mistaking the way his whole visage had lit up when I'd told him I would be back. He wanted to see me again - and I wanted to see him again, too.

Following what I'd said a few moments ago, Croc slowly pushed himself up off of the mattress with another glance at my naked form, and said, "Lemme get'cha those clothes." When he rose up off of the bed I, of course, also had to study his naked body. It was like if Adonis had scales and was over eight feet tall. I forced myself to look away from his tight ass and tried to pay attention to other things. If I got turned on again, I'd never leave. My brain told me this would not necessarily be a bad thing, and I readily agreed, but also I didn't want to be reported missing, and possibly get both of us in trouble if I was found down here with him. 

While he walked over to a small nightstand a few feet away (at the very least they gave him that), crouching down in front of it to open a drawer, my eyes wandered down in front of me to see what the state of my body was like after the most amazing sex of my life. And it was then that I saw something I hadn't even realized the whole time I'd been on the bed, and especially not in the throes of passion: I still had my shoes on.

I snickered quietly as my black and white converse stared back at me. I guessed I'd been too distracted to remember to take them off.

"Whatcha laughin' at, little one?" Croc asked with amusement. I turned my head and saw him walking back towards me where I lay on the mattress, and also noticed to my internal disappointment that he had put his own pants back on. 

Smiling up at his amused expression I told him, "I, uh, forgot to take off my shoes during... while we were, um..." The thought of what we'd done, and what had been done to me, flustered me. Not in a bad way, but enough that I couldn't finish my sentence and it dissolved into the air. 

Croc chuckled lowly, which made me want to clench my thighs together, and he replied, "Think your mind was preoccupied with other things." He said this while his eyes traveled up the expanse of my nude form, and when they reached mine he flashed me a wink once more. I ducked my head in embarrassment, smiling widely as my cheeks flushed, and he laughed quietly. Then he stepped closer to the mattress and leaned down to hand me the presumed item of clothing he was holding, which I noticed was the same color orange as the pants he wore. "Don't think the other pants I have will fit ya, but this should be long enough on ya to cover the goods." 

I unfolded the item of clothing and saw that it was a long sleeved orange t-shirt - Arkham issued, of course - and it would indeed be long enough to be a literal dress on me. I looked up at him and smiled in gratitude. "Thanks, I'll wash it and bring it back to you." 

He easily returned my smile, and huffed with a bemused shake of his head, "You're somethin' else, little Kris." 

His tone and words sent warm tingles throughout my whole body as I sat up on the mattress, and I pulled the material over my head, partially to hide the blush I knew was on my face. When I had his shirt on and comfortably situated, I smoothed back my hair as best as I could, which was a task and a half even though it only fell to just below my shoulders. I took the hair tie that was thankfully still on my wrist and tied back my black locks so they hopefully didn't look too crazy. So maybe it wouldn't look like I'd just had the best sex of my life and was now trying to inconspicuously sneak out - which was absolutely the case. Plus, to top it all off, I would now be walking out of here wearing his clothes.

Once I was ready, Croc reached out a hand to help me up and I took it gratefully, once again putting my hand in his like I had done not just a few hours earlier while we had made our deal. He helped pull me up off of the mattress on the ground, and I hadn't realized how much I would be relying on his strength until I was actually standing. Immediately my legs were incredibly wobbly, like a fawn taking its first steps, and I had to hold onto him and his big body with both of my hands. The tender area between my thighs was still sticky, but thankfully none of it ran down my legs. Since I didn't have any underwear on, that was something I would've been kind of self conscious about since I now had to go upstairs to get my stuff so I could go home. I really didn't need, and neither did he, both of our combined DNA dripping out of me and onto the floor - that would surely be something no one else needed to discover, for both of our safety.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked me, both of his hands holding onto my waist to insure that I didn't fall over.

"I think so," I blushed sheepishly once again at the thought of why my legs were so wobbly. The twenty minute drive home was sure to be fun, I thought to myself. Not. I looked both ways, wondering how exactly I was going to be getting out of here. Earlier he'd mentioned something about a back exit. And I wondered: if he knew about a back exit, what was stopping him from escaping out said exit? 

Before I could ask him, he had noticed me looking around and gestured with his head down the tunnel beyond his 'room' area - the one we hadn't come down on the way here. "Down that way, not too far," he grunted. He led me over to the edge of the thick slab of brick we were standing on, then hoisted me up into his arms once again, explaining, "Gonna hafta get back in the water, though - hold tight, pretty one." 

I smiled to myself against his chest, thinking of the first time he'd said that to me this evening. He then leapt us into the gently running water and held my body tightly to his to keep me from slipping out of his grip, and I wrapped my arms around his neck for the same reason. Also, I couldn't resist.

As we began the trek down the dim tunnel of the old sewers once more this evening, Croc asked me suddenly, "So, what were you doin' here so late, anyways?" 

I realized then that he probably had no idea what I actually did at the asylum. It was clear to him that I worked here, but he didn't necessarily know which department. "Working late; I work in the clerks office to do paperwork and stuff like that, and I volunteered to do some overtime tonight." When I'd come to be in his abode it had been around eight pm. Normally my shift ended at four-thirty, but I'd volunteered to stay until eight to help catch up on some extra work. Before I'd left for the night, I'd stepped out of the office to use the bathroom before my drive home, and, well, that was when I'd been ambushed by the guards and orderlies. Little did they know, they'd done me a favor, it seemed - for myself and for my scaly companion.

He nodded, taking in that information as he continued walking us down the watery tunnel, walking a lot slower than he had before, when he'd been taking us to his 'room' area to complete our deal. Almost as if he was reluctant for me to leave... "Well, as much as I wanna tear every one of those idiots to pieces for doing what they did to you, I can't say that I'm upset that you stumbled on in here tonight. Quite the opposite, in fact." 

I smiled at his words, and quietly replied, "Same here." His yellow eyes flicked down to look at me, and while he didn't respond verbally I could see that same intensity as I had many times this evening, brewing behind his gaze. Intensity and warmth. 

After a few more moments of comfortable silence we reached the end of the tunnel, which came out to a circle shaped opening where water was draining out into a small waterfall down a concrete siding into the lake surrounding the island. There were thick vertical bars going across the exit, and they looked to be spaced just far enough apart that I could squeeze through them. Along the sides of the tunnel there were very narrow walkways, and both led up to the opening right to the bars. Croc brought me up to the siding on the left and gently set me on my feet, and gestured towards the exit, "This comes out right below the parking lot." 

That worked out perfectly. I felt relief in knowing that I wouldn't be stumbling around Arkham island in the dark right next to the lake, with nothing but Croc's oversized shirt and my shoes on. I at least knew where I was. And from the parking lot I could get back into my building, retrieve my stuff, and finally go home. 

I turned to Croc, wondering what I should even say to him. Thanks for the amazing sex? Thanks for not murdering me? See you later? What does one even say in a situation like this? 

I took a moment to think, looking him up and down, my eyes going back to his yellow gaze as they always seemed to be drawn there. Then I said, "I'll be back with that clock, and," I added, hoping this would sound flirty like it did in my mind and not come off as desperate, "I'm prepared to make another deal for it." 

Like I'd hoped he would, he gave me a grin and a huff of laughter, which sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. He returned with, "Well in that case, I hope to be seein' ya real soon." And he finished with a wink.

I smiled back at him, cheeks hot, and told him genuinely, "Then it's a done deal. Thank you for tonight... See you around, Waylon." 

Before I could talk myself out of it and convince myself to stay longer, I turned and slipped through the old metal bars, careful not to step in the running water with my shoes on, stepped out onto the grass alongside the flat cement drainage ditch. Before I began walking up the hill towards the parking lot, I gave him one last look into the darkness of the tunnel, just barely able to see his outline and those eyes illuminated by the moonlight from outside. Then I turned and headed up the hill, and the whole time, my cheeks hurt from how big I was smiling. Done deal, indeed. 

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

AN: I do not own the Batman: Arkham Asylum franchise or any of it's characters, but Kris is my own OC.

also, some songs i listened to (on repeat) while writing this~: EAT ME - Demi Lovato feat. Royal & the Serpent (naturally) Perfect Lover - Britney Spears (don't ask plz lol) Get Naked (I Got a Plan) - Britney Spears Doomsayer - Hatebreed Break the Ice - Britney Spears You Don't Own Me - SAYGRACE feat. G-Eazy Gimme More - Britney Spears Come Together - Demi Lovato Gangsta - Kehlani

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