#just felt weird blasting a stranger's handle

[nexusnyx]

🖋️ “can’t you see how wrecked I am for you” + Bucky Barnes (any version of him that you like) 🤍

But also congrats on the 10.5K!! That’s amazing!

It's been a while since I wrote for my tin-man (Joel brain-rot is eating me alive), so thanks for the first Buck request 🤍 And tysm baby, I'm super happy abt it 🤍🤍 — main masterlist | fireplace celebration | 🏷️: pining, strangers to co-workers to pining idiots, avenger!Reader, love confessions, Bucky my darling I missed you; [WC: 1.4k]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ sink your teeth ꒱

The thing he hated the most was the sight of blood.

No one knew that but you. Not even Steve, before he left.

Bucky grew to hate the sight of blood, which was inconvenient in his life of work, which meant there was yet one more thing he needed to learn how to disassociate from, and that was always a hassle. While his mind was enhanced to handle all the years of things piling up on it, there was only so much a single person could handle.

Thank whatever it was for Wakanda. For Sam.

For you.

Even if you wrecked him. Even if Bucky ended up twisting himself into two just to get trouble of your way, and even if that stole him the little bit of sleep he grew to have.

He just never knew it was mutual.

It stays hidden until the inevitable happens, and a mission strands you both in the face of deadly danger

It’s when he sees blood dripping down your face that Bucky notices how in deep he truly is.

The location is… somewhere in Slovakia. Mission target is unclear, as of two hours ago. You’d been injured, and Bucky’s priorities had sort of—shifted. Despite all training, despite his best judgement, they’d changed, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Bucky took care of the agents. The threats, and also the weird ‘alien’ technology.

After almost a decade now, the word had lost all meaning to him, and none of it even mattered anywhere. Alien, or not, from this Earth or from another parallel fucking unvierse; Bucky had no interest in whatever it was that Belova spoke about in his ear, so Bucky uttered the only information he cared about. “Agent Widow’s in the top perimeter. The interference’s coming from there. I’m going in for her.”

There’s protest to his statement, but Bucky had expected that.

Neither Sam nor Yelena’s voice have any success in stopping him.

Bucky removes his gadgets, knowing that Fury’s instructions, while sometimes unclear and often incomplete, were never wrong.

Some would call it a miracle, or astonishing; the way Bucky manages to ignore the glowing orb in the middle of the room, floating in the middle of a glass container in pure, red energy. He scans the room, looking for the only thing he needs to find.

You’re in the corner of a room.

The only red he could ever care for is the one in your face.

“Hey, Barnes.”

He dashes towards you.

Bucky’s hand shook like this for the last time when he was still being woken up by night terrors, and his hands felt like ghosts of someone else’s. This time, they feel like his, very much. They’re used to touching you, but never this firmly. Bucky cups your face in his hands and starts assessing your body as soon as he kneels down beside you, securing the gun and putting it in his pants.

“You were told to wait.” He sounds like a wreck.

Feels like one too, when he gets a closer look to the blast you must’ve took. The biggest wound is on your temple, and another significant one is in your eyebrow—the reason you’re covered in blood. Why your eyes are bloodshot from the liquid that dripped into it.

The smile that pops on your face is bloody, too. “Who else would’ve stopped him, hm?”

The mention of ‘him’ makes Bucky follow your gaze, finding him, lifeless a few meters away.

It explains why the orb’s still alive, and you’re in this state. “He was Strange’s problem. How much did we miss? How much did he hurt in you? I called the evac downstairs. Sam’s pissed at me, but he must be finding another way in. We’re gonna be out of here in a minute.”

“Dunno if we’ll make it that far.” Her voice sounded distant, and it snapped him back into sharpness.

“Shut up.” Bucky made quick work of ripping a piece of her old flannel jacket to press hard against the wound, no matter how much her wince hurt in him. “You were told to wait, damn it. What the fuck were you thinking?”

It sounded… emotional.

Bucky saw it in your eye—it went unnoticed by his ears, but when Bucky notices your eyes widening and your whole face taking in the surprise of how he’s cracking with this situation, Bucky can feel it.

How much this all affects him.

The new Avenger is a classified, Unprotocoled asset of pure, destined energy. We found her in a classified location. Her life is a classified matter. But from now on, I want you to welcome her as one of your own. 

He was supposed to learn how to work with you, not how to feel all over again.

Once he’s satisfied with the improvised bandage around your arm wounds, Bucky tries getting you to get up, but you whisper to him, so small and so unlike you that it stops his attempts; “wait, wait. Wait, Buck.”

“You gotta get up. It’s getting hotter, and you know it. I’m not looking at it, but I can feel that thing getting wider. Please, sweetheart—”

“It’s a beacon.”

“—you hafto’—what?” Bucky halts. “What are you talking about?”

A smile blooms in your face. “The orb. It’s a beacon, Buck.”

“A beacon? For… who? For what?”

“The right location. The right—universe.” He sees it, then. That faint, green-ish glow in your eyes. “Wanda was hurting and she erased us all from existence, Buck.”

He feels lighter than gravity and, somehow, larger than the ocean.

Somewhere in the wiring of his brain, the Winter Soldier slaps files into his field of vision, and his eyes are obscured by images that were once burned into him—experiments, incosintensies, fragments and forgotten pieces; a tale of an entire group of people, and something about how all of that connected to the instability in this… “realm”.

Scientists had no other word for it, back then. Russian was a poetic language.

Bucky swallows the cotton in his mouth and looks at you, shining in red light, and emitting something of your own inane power. Something old, and earthly.

Bucky wants to be buried in the green of your eyes, suddenly emerging in your iris.

“I can’t do this—” Bucky’s choked. The heat on his back has nothing on the heat inside of him, this thought that if everything ceases to end and somehow only takes you, it might as well take him, too. “It’s gonna wreck me. If you go—if you disappear. Don’t do it. Don’t you dare fuckin’ do it.”

Your smile only widens. 

“I can’t wreck you, James,” you lean closer to him, letting all your weight rest in him. “I like you all put together. The whole picture… is beautiful.”

It makes him laugh. It’s comic. “You can’t?” You had. In one year—eleven months, a few days, and some hours. 

Over thirty six missions, countless nights spent together by now. Fighting. Training. Talking. Opening up under the powerful, yellow light of the Moon lighting up the sky in New York, while Bucky could only think of ‘how did my life end up here, like this after everything’. You already had wrecked him. You gave him back this. Bucky presses his forehead on yours, and lets his heart come out from everywhere.

Screw his sleeve—Bucky let it come out of his eyes, his lips, his chest that pressed into yours.

“Can’t you see how wrecked I already am for you?” When was the last time he cried?

Bucky lost any notion he still knew how to.

Then, he felt something coming between the waves wetting his vision—he felt plushy, comforting lips pressing against his, louder and hotter than any magical obr or other parallel universe could ever be, and he fell apart.Bucky fell apart in your lips, and was put together by your hands and arms wrapping around him, holding him in place. Bucky was held by you, and felt light and dark enveloping him all around. Bucky saw a green light, and he suddenly was overwhelmed by the nostalgic taste of home, which he’d long ago forgotten.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. * | send me mail 💌

#usernexusnyx #nyx10fireplace.ೃ࿐ #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky x y/n #bucky smut #bucky angst #bucky imagine

[transformhim]

gonna commit to writing a few shorties, just to get myself back into the swing of it 🫠

I finally came to, unblinking but definitely conscious, looking face up at a whole lot of ass.

Wait… My ass..?

“Whassup, Donovan?” I heard my deep voice say. My body scratched its head right before it turned around to face me, noticeably hard as a rock.

“What a trip, huh?” My body continued with a cheeky chuckle, said with the same perky cadence as my roommate, Jiao.

Fucking Jiao, I knew it! He’s always been into freaky shit and always ogled at me. Always with the homo shit, too... He orders shit online like money meant nothing to him, and... sure, I’ll admit that I’ve taken one or two things from his boxes when they’ve arrived in the mail, but only because I’m sure with his family money he wouldn’t be missing a lot. And so what? His designer clothes looked better on me anyways, especially how they hugged my frame due to his much smaller size. I thought that’s what the box on the coffee table contained when I opened it up this morning... some more of his hundred dollar clothing to add to my growing collection... but apparently not. I can only remember opening the box and... my fingers barely grazing whatever it was that was inside... and then nothing. Apparently, something much stranger was going on. I couldn’t move my head, I couldn’t move my lips, I couldn’t do anything. I was fucking paralyzed.

“Weird, huh?” He continued as I blasted through hundreds of obscenities and insults, each of them blazing through my head with red-hot fury but none of them able to come out of my mouth. “For a first-time transference? It’s… Whoo, boy, it’s a doozy. Feeling stiff? Feeling confused? It’s natural, don’t worry. But… Jesus, FUCK boy, your bod is fuckin’ TIGHT!” He said, shaking out my large arm muscles and reaching down to pick me up with a giggle.

He picked me up with incredible ease, as if I weighed nothing at all. I felt my fingers curl around me snugly, turning me over this way and that in the palm of my hand. What in the fuck was going on?? Why was I fitting around in his hand like a doll??

“Let’s take you on a little tour, hmm?” He grinned down at me. He hummed in my booming baritone as we walked towards the hallway to our rooms. Jiao stopped in front of the door to his own room and turned the handle. “And behind door number one...”

He opened the door to reveal his own body... Was it sleeping? Entranced? It certainly wasn’t moving, same stiff-as-a-board, lifeless state as I was currently in.

“Look familiar? I’ll just keep hanging out there until you and I are done here. But now... Ready to see the big reveal?” He grinned back down at me with that same knowing, dickish smirk. He walked towards his bathroom and I could see the reflection of my body walk into the mirror with that tall, glidy strut Jiao always had, but I couldn’t see my own reflection. Looking closely, I could see that he was holding.. some kind of action figure in his hand? Or was it a toy? But with that pink, pearlescent silicone, it looked like it could only be—

OH MY GOD.

“Love this new look of yours, by the way,” Jiao laughed out with a deep boom as he wiggled around the shiny, pink dildo between his fingers. As he wiggled, my vision went to and fro with the wiggle of the dildo. That FUCKING FAIRY turned me into one of his dildos!!

“Don’t worry though, babe, you’ll get back this sweet deliciousness,” he cooed, running a hand down my firm, hard-earned physique. ‘Babe,’ I hated when he called me that. “But first… we have a lot to do together.” He brought me up face-level to him, my own face staring back at me with giant-sized proportions.

“Oh man, you and I are about to get so much closer,” a slurred with a horny grin. He brought me closer to my own face and kissed around me with my soft, pillowy lips. After a few more kisses around the entirety of my new form, he paused for a moment but then rolled my massive tongue out to guide me into his mouth. I could see and feel the dark, warm, wet, fleshiness of the inside of my mouth around my body as he welcomed the top part of my new form into his mouth. He pulled me out with a strong exhale, a giant webby trail of his saliva tracing his mouth to me. He stared at me with this carnal, drunken look in his eyes—my eyes. Like a lion looking at meat.

‘Oh fuck,’ I thought, knowing if my eyes could roll they would.

“Oh fuck,” Jiao repeated hoarsely as if he heard me, fishing my rigid, fat cock out of my briefs, tugging it greedily and intensely as he opened his mouth wide open, plunging me deep into his throat.

As I felt the slick expanse of my new form slide deeply in and out of the fleshy, dark cavern of his mouth, I could feel a whirlwind of sensations. I felt his tongue lap hungrily around my form. I felt the vacuum-like suction of his mouth and throat pull my slightly stretchy form longer and thinner as I felt more of myself slide down his throat. I felt the booming vibrations of his ecstatic moans pulse through me.

He mouth-fucked himself with me for a while until he seemed to be getting close. At which point, he quickly pulled me out of his mouth and lowered me down to his crotch. There, he placed my new form right next to my body’s shaft—a hot, thick, veiny shaft, if I say so myself, though I’d never thought I’d be this close to it—and began to pump me and his shaft together with two hands. With a few more moaning, piston-like tugs, I came face to face with my own giant-sized cock head erupting a pressurized geyser of jizz into the air, spraying out in thick, spurting ropes and dousing the bathroom mirror with noisy splats. His hips seized with jerking thrusts as the last of it seeped out of him, with much of the residual creamy remains coating the entire side of my new form up against his shaft.

With heaving breaths of air, he lifted me up higher again until I was face level with him, widening his mouth open and extending his tongue out, bringing all of me into his mouth one last time with a final greedy suck. He tightened his lips around me as he pulled me out, making sure to ingest every little drop of spooge that found its way onto my body.

“Fuck you taste good,” he smiled with more heaving pants. “Well, not you you, that just tastes like silicone and chemicals… but your baby batter? Dude, I could bottle it up and chug it.” He winked as he pulled my briefs up over my deflating tool.

“Good thing I got that out of the way, too, it’ll make me last much longer,” he reasoned as he stepped out of the bathroom and out of the door towards my own bedroom. “Oh yeah, don’t think this is all over, gotta make back all that money you stole from me over the years. I couldn’t think of a better way!”

He walked into the bedroom and slapped me down onto the low dresser I kept in my room with the suction cup on the base of my form. As I waggled lazily in my upright position, I saw him saunter over to my desktop, waking up my monitor and finding his way online.

I could see over his—my—bulging shoulders that he’d made an OnlyFans account… but using my pics, my likeness, my name, my everything. He’d been planning this for a while, that conniving fucker… He opened the webcam, went live on the account, hit record, and gave a little welcoming speech to his new subscribers. As he talked, I could see him flexing different parts of my body, flaunting my muscles. He lied over and over again about his gym routine and his favorite muscle groups to work, flashing peeks and flexes for his eager fans. Watching him, pretending like he was me, like this was the real me doing something so flashy, so revealing… it made my blood boil.

“Why don’t I just give you people what you came for?” He finally interjected during the middle of his welcome. He slowly lowered the briefs he was wearing, and slowly, eventually revealed my thick cock and balls—still slick and shiny with our session not 5 minutes earlier—to the rest of the world, swinging them around and playing with him like they were his. Standing naked in front of the camera, he did little poses with soft groans between flexes, working my body like he’d always been in it. I could see the firm contours of my ass from my vantage point and wished more than anything that I could do something about my situation.

“Pretty fuckin’ big, right?” He asked the camera, swinging my pre-leaking rod. Goddamn it, I hated him. “But I wanna play with something else today.”

He went off camera for a second, slipping quickly into his room before he came back with a bottle of something. I watched him pound the bottle into my palm, my chest jiggling with the motion, as he opened the cap and squirted something into his palm. He walked over to me and lifted me off the dresser, my suction cup loudly detaching from the wood top. He ran his other hand up and down my form, and I could feel the slick, sticky, jelly-like substance in his hand lather me up from top to bottom. Of course, he squirted a little more and spread his cheeks for the camera, I’m assuming to surround his hole with some lube too, and crawled on top of my bed.

He groaned as he positioned himself downward, extending my firm, round ass into the air, resting on my thick thighs, and looked into the camera with a sly, sexy grin.

“I hope you guys like this as much as I do!”

He lifted me up behind him until I was head-on with my own spread cheeks, my ass hair looking lubed-up and sort of welcoming from this angle. Well, I suppose there wasn’t any fighting it at this point.

He pressed me against my own hole, and I could feel the tight muscles around the rim and the warm walls of my ass surrounding me. Finally, he exhaled and my hole widened enough for him to plunge me in, immediately feeling the tight, moist walls inside my hole surrounding me.

Last thing I remember as I swung in a piston motion in and out of my own virgin hole was the loud, ecstatic, mumbled moans of my own body from outside, relishing every second.

#male transformation #male tf #male body swap #body swap tf #body swap #male possession #possession #inanimate tf #inanimate #nerd to jock #revenge #human to inanimate tf #muscle #giant #macro #soft vore

[knifedog-machina]

What’s In A Name?

Musings on our names and our relationships with them, particularly around transitioning, OC fictive experiences, established character fictive experiences, and our reluctance to create a system name.

Max

So I'm transgender, and I decided to change my name, as is a common choice among trans folks! I went through several different names before settling on the ones I have for myself now - Kitson, Gray, Finch, for a few examples. I was nonbinary in my teenage years, genderfluid before my gender settled into masculinity as its new home, and I wanted a name that was kinda difficult to nail down as masculine or feminine. I played around with it for a long time, I got silly with it!

My online name is Max now, derived only a little bit from misspelling mackerelgray as maxkerelgray one time! I think it’s a name that ages well, and I really like the potential longform nicknames for it - because I like saying it's short for Maximilian, but it can also be Maximus, Maxime, Maxwell, Maxfield, Maximum, Maxilla, etc. It’s fun! The possibilities are endless!

And on February 29 (wow! a Leap Year!) I got a new addition to it! I was attending the 2024 Centaurus Festival, a three-day online convention centered around mythic and folkloric alterhumans, and it was an absolute blast, especially because of the name thing! 

I was jokingly lamenting that I’d chosen a really boring name to represent myself, when surrounded by the likes of Page or Cynder or Daski, because it does look like I just chose one of the Top Ten Dog Names despite not being a dog. Everyone around me got a whiff of self-deprecation and immediately went about tearing it down, joking about how they came up with their own handles and complimenting mine, and it was honestly really nice? Like I’m not the only one who made up my name in a silly way, or feels like their name is a little underwhelming, and it felt really nice to break up the impression of Big Intimidating Community Names™ with the understanding that we’re all just weird and vibing together!

And Benry said, hey, if it were actually a top ten dog name you’d be a Fido or a Biscuit, and I said, hey, I like biscuits! I’d be a great Biscuit! And in ten minutes I’m being dubbed Max Biscuit in the general chat and giving people virtual baked goods, and honestly, it was so fun and sweet that I’m immortalizing it by putting it on my handle now. Hi fellow alterhumans, I’m Max Biscuit, I was Assigned Baked Goods at the Centaurus Festival and it was absolutely delightful.

Jude

First off, my name is technically short for Judah, and I don’t actually use that name here, for a couple reasons.

Mostly, it’s because Judah is a work name. My handler only used my full name - she wouldn’t shorten it, that’s improper, that’s not my actual designation. It’s a name that I associate with my job, with doing something for people who don’t actually care about me, and it’s not something I use with people I’m trying to get along with. My friends and siblings and partners all call me Jude in friendly contexts, but I’m Judah if it’s for something official, and that’s a signal for me to stop fucking around and do what I need to. I’ll use it as a burner name while talking to strangers, to people I don’t care about. Now that I’m in a system, I only directly talk to people who I care about getting along with, so I just cut out the middleman and introduce myself as Jude.

(There’s also definitely the fact that people see Judah and think I’m a guy, and I hate being misgendered. Jude has a more neutral association that I like better.)

That’s what I have for my first name, but I have more thoughts! About other names I have and their funny little origins, related to being an original character fictive.

See, if you’re talking about my model and serial number, I’m called RK800 476 032 660. In beta testing, before being officially given a name, I used to be called Sixty from the last couple digits. Which is really funny to me, because that’s the usual fandom nickname for the Cyberlife Tower doppelganger in Detroit: Become Human, and that was where Max got the original inspiration for my character! Listen, the moralizing machine characterization compelled them. 

Max just ran with the pieces, glued them together, and wrote that guy into weirder and more canon-divergent AUs until they realized they had fully replaced every part of that man’s characterization and I was the result. They just went full Ship Of Theseus with him. So my name got changed because I was a completely different person, and I don’t identify with that name anymore, but I’m pretty fond of it. And I like Sixty in DBH fandom and fics when I see him, he’s kinda fucked up and feral and feels a lot of things and I can relate to that. He’s just a funny little bastard.

And before I walked in, Max wrote a bunch of different alternate universes with me - and honestly I adore it, I love being known and psychoanalyzed by my loved ones because I like to know what they’re thinking about me. Most of those AUs have different settings and premises - like we’re all werewolves, or selkies, or chefs, or in the Star Wars universe or something. And this usually meant that my name is different, because I need a full name, I can’t just be called Jude. So he settled on Judah Nicholas Rooke, Rooke from RK and Nicholas because it has a good ring to it, and I also have it as a legal name in my timeline.

It’s funny to think about my name in terms of the meta of being a fictive of an original character, because on one hand, Max went through various iterations of a character that would eventually become what I’d recognize as me, including name changes, and that’s really interesting! And on the other hand, I definitely remember talking about what to officially last-name ourselves with my brothers when we finally got the time, because I felt kinda weird about identifying myself by a model number, or worse, a serial number that people never remembered. Watsonian versus Doylist commentary on what went into making me a person, I guess! They’re both real enough, one of them just happened in my life and the other happened in Max’s brain.

Gavin

My name is Gavin Zachary Reed, and I still think it’s really funny that I can just announce that without getting doxxed. Like I don’t think anyone should follow my example, but it’s fucking comedy gold that I can do it. I’m not even revealing my identity to anyone who’s familiar with the video game my source was based on, because my source is so canon divergent that the character who shares my name is fully unrecognizable to me.

If you recognize the first and last name there, yep, I’m technically an iteration of Gavin Reed from Detroit: Become Human. Unfortunately, I’m nothing like him - I look nothing like his character model, his voice is different, his only personality trait is being a dick, and he’s not even 5’2” - and I hate his stupid fucking ass, including the video game he’s from and most things related to its fandom that we’ve interacted with. This kinda sucks, because I’m not going to change my name again just because it’s associated with a character and game and fandom I dislike. I like my name, thanks.

Here’s a brief rundown on how I got my name. Gavin - I’m trans, I chose this name myself. My middle name, Zachary, I also came up with that, because it worked way better with Gavin than my old middle name, and I go by Zach in spaces where I don’t want to use my first name. And Reed is my aunts’ last name, because I moved in with them as a teenager, and I did not want anybody knowing I had ties to my famous older brother or dragging me back to my shit parents. I legally changed it all at once. My aunts were my guardians until I got my own place, and really, they’re way more like parents to me than the people who fucked over my childhood.

So I’m really attached to my name. It carries a lot of meaning for me. I’m annoyed that it’s connected to a character I hate, but I can’t exactly control that, so there’s not really a point in getting tetchy about it. I’ll readily bitch about it in private, but I genuinely like who I am and I’m not about to abandon that by letting a game dictate what I call myself.

System Names

We still don’t have a system name and don’t really care to officially make one, for a couple reasons.

First, there’s only three people here, and we have our individual names already. Addressing us by a collective system name feels like it means losing some of that individuality, because people use the system name because they don’t want to assume who’s fronting or anything, and while that’s understandable, it’s not something any of us really likes. Like, we’re very much separate people! If you wanna talk to one of us, just say it, we’ll probably show up!

On the other hand, I do understand wanting an identifier - like, there’s loads of Maxes and Judes and Gavins out there, we have really common names, there’s gotta be something to distinguish us from another group, right? Like a last name.

Honestly, looking at it like a last name makes it feel better. If you’ve read through the rest of this, you can tell we’re already experts at getting new last names, and this is just another one! So on that note, we’re not gonna call ourselves anything like The X System, but if you have to tag us as a collective, just use Machina as a funny end tag, like how people talk about Sans Undertale.

(Max Machina is a misnomer, since he’s not from Machina, but he came up with the title so he counts. And it’s really fucking funny.)

#personal essay #alterhuman #plurality #fictive #max talks #jude talks #gavin talks

[thealiencat3]

My lavender~Yandere Damian Wayne (master/teacher) x student OC

OC: Rebecca Thomas. Age:19

It's been three years since the incident. The night is giving her same vibes of the night they met. At this time, three years ago,after spending three extra hours at school library, she didn't go home straight. Instead she roamed in the streets to avoid her French lesson. Just to get harrassed by some thugs in a dark alley. Then out of nowhere, a gentleman appeared. He covered his face with mask. He saved her from getting raped. Only then, she realised how weak she was unable to defend herself . She begged the stranger to teach her self defence and how to fight. At first, he didn't want to. But she begged again and again on her knees. like a five year old demanding a toy from his parents. " Please. Teach me how to fight. Please teach me everything you know. I'll work hard I promise" . He agreed only if she's not lazy.

Now she's 19. He still trains her. Though he's strict and rude, he helps her. She secretly developed some feelings for her strict teacher. She knows everything about him. His real name, he's being Batman's son. Just everything. Today is a very special day for her. Her master is taking her in a mission with him for the first time. She'll prove herself to her master. She's very excited. "Be careful. They'll be here in few minutes" he said. She nodded. They're here to deal with some weapon smugglers his father has been unable to catch. "They're very dangerous so don't go too far away from me" he told her. "yes master". Damian is somehow overprotective towards his student. That's true. She was too weak when he started training her. After few minutes, the smugglers arrived. Everytime, they're able to fool batman and run away. But not today. Damian stabbed the truck driver as he got out. While, Rebecca shot the others with arrows. "Check where the weapons are. I'll handle them" Damian commanded. She nodded and checked each and every truck . Few trucks were empty. While some were filled with food supplies. She couldn't find anything. When she was about to shut the door of the container of the 5th truck, she saw something suspicious among the food supplies. She was right. There were weapons hidden very carefully. Only then, someone threw a lighter inside and locked the door behind her. She panicked . She cried for her master. "MASTER!!! MASTER!!" she felt suffocating. She tried to breath "MAS..*cough* TER" . The smoke entered eyes made her unable to see anything. The container may blast anytime. She thought this is her end. Fortunately, Damian broke in. He can't bear her seeing this way. He took her out of the container and put her on his back. They ran away just few seconds before the blast. She was unconscious in his arms. He then remembered the incident about Jason. He can't imagine what would have happened to her if he couldn't save her in time . Jason hated his father because he didn't take revenge on Joker. Will she hate him too?? His heart hurts everytime he thinks like this. On the road , full of dead bodies and fire, he was holding his student. He never wants her to get hurt again. Never. Then something came to his mind. He looked at his student. With his darkest sight ever. So dark that if she was awake, she'd be afraid too. But he can't stand loosing her.

she opened her eyes. She felt herself laying on something very soft and silky. She missed sleeping on soft beds ever since she became Damian's student. She looked around only to find herself in a bedroom. No, her dream bedroom. the room was painted with het favourite colour lavender, favorite curtains and everything she liked. 'am I alive?' she thought. Her master is nowhere to be seen. She got off the bed and walked towards the window as she needs some fresh air. She tried to open but it was locked. She felt weird. Then she tried to open the door. It was locked too. She hit the door multiple times but nothing happened. Then she saw the doorknob turning. She took a few steps back. Ready to face anyone going to appear in front of her. But it was her master. Her handsome master. The man she has liked for three years. She was relieved. "Oh. You're awake" he smiled. "Master I.." he cut her off. "Just call me Damian". She frowned. "Pardon?" He let out a dark chuckle and locked the door behind him. "master. What are you doing?" She asked. He sighed. Then he smiled at her. But it wasn't a smile you can call normal or healthy. That smile was sick. No. Lovesick. She took a step back. " I'm no longer your master honey. You can now call me Damian" . " What do you mean?? What happened to you???" It wasn't him. Not the Damian she knew. He never smiled at her. At least not a lovesick smile. "Oh. Honey. You know what? I realised how precious you are to me when I was about to loose you. I can't imagine what would have happened if I wasn't there in time. You could have... Died...my baby. I can't stand loosing my lovely dear student. You're too special to be my student honey. Someone like you only deserves to be my wife". She can't belive it!!! She can't stay here any longer. She tried to break the window just like he taught her. He couldn't help but laughed. "It's worthless baby. These windows are specially designed" he said. She attacked him. At this moment, her freedom was most important to her. But he was her master. She can't defeat him. At last he got annoyed and pushed her to the bed and got on top of her. "Why are you struggling so much?? Honey. I know you love me too. I can see you looking at me with these pretty eyes and blush everytime I look at you". That's true. She loves him. But not this version. This is too much. She stated sobbing. He kissed her tears away. "Don't cry my love. It'll be over once you become mine. This is why I took you so far from the cruel world. You're so cute Rebecca. Only I can have you and no one else" . He then crashed his lips on hers. She kissed back as if this is the moment she was waiting for. Her body was betraying her. " I love you my lavender"~

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #yandere #lovesick #teacher x student #obsession #batman #batfamily #dc universe

[krimzie]

MA'AM.

Considering I hope to actually BE at Blizzcon next year, yes PLEASE.

#not my tweet #just felt weird blasting a stranger's handle

[lavishedinjimin]

Crybaby - 3 (m)

— synopsis: he calls you crybaby, crybaby. but you don’t fucking care.

alt: Jungkook doesn’t want to leave you.

↳ pairing: jungkook x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff

↳ rating: r-18/18+

↳ word count: 12k

↳ warnings: the usual dom!jk x sub! reader, ddlg themes, reader is small in height, degrading terms, he’s aggressive this chapter YIKES, jungkook gets turned on seeing you cry, manhandling, uses of rope and a vibrator, kinky sex, size kink, multiple orgasms, rough intercourse, jk’s a sadist, throat fucking, dirty talk, teasing, very possessive jk, and aftercare!!! there’s also some tooth melting fluff to (hopefully) balance everything out ;)

A/n: Before anything else, I want to repeat saying that everything written here is purely fictional, consensual, and doesn’t mirror the mentioned artists’ personality in real life.

Jungkook thinks you’re the most adorable person in the entire world.

“How did you even fall in love with me?” you ask innocently, resting your head on his lap as you both let Edward Scissorhands play in the background. You didn’t even want to watch it in the first place but of course, a little bit of his desperate ‘please’ and puppy eyes always wins your meek heart.

He wraps his hand around your jaw, leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly. Giggling from the sudden impromptu kiss, you feel his soft, supple lips fondle with your own so gingerly. His grip on you tightens before he pulls away with a smirk, noticing the blush on your cheeks.

“So suddenly, baby?” Jungkook mutters as he feeds you a spoonful of Reese’s ice cream he holds in one hand. Looking down at your endearing face, he replies, “Don’t you remember our arcade date? That’s when I confessed my love to you.”

“Yeah, but…” you ponder, “Did you plan it all along?”

Jungkook shuts his eyes before giggling, his dimples peeking through his cheeks. Watching black strands of hair fall down right in front of his eyes as you gaze at him in confusion. Jungkook just sits there. “Well, there’s this exact moment when I knew that I just had to make you mine.”

With your eyes slowly expanding, you try to hide the smile that was slowly creeping up your face. He places the spoon inside the tub, letting his hand stroke your delicate cheek. “Wanna know what it was, baby girl?”

The way how fast you nodded your head was a little bit embarrassing. He grins nonetheless, “So…”

*flashback*

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s arm snakes around your waist before he tugs you closer to him. He gazes down at you with a smile before he points to the shelf full of toys and stuffed animals. “Which one do you like?”

Gulping, you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows, “Why?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer, “Because I’m gonna win as many tickets as I possibly can to get it for you.”

You didn’t know how to respond for your shyness takes over you once again. On the other hand, Jungkook finds this so charming about you.

“The pink penguin…perhaps?” you mumble.

Jungkook immediately walks closer to approach the male employee behind the counter and inquires, “Excuse me, but how many tickets to get that penguin over there?”

You giggle as you watch how serious he looked as if talking about a huge business deal with his arms crossed together.

The man replies with a bright smile, “1500 tickets, that is!”

“That’s a lot—” you exhale.

“Let’s go, Y/n!” he abruptly pulls you by the arm and tugs you along with him, “I’m gonna get that lil’ penguin for you, baby.”

Your heart swells at the petname. It wasn’t his first time saying it, you just can’t get used to it.

Even though this was the fifth date, the post-nervousness was still there. Before he picked you up from work, your hands were sweating bizarrely. It wasn’t like you weren’t comfortable with him, no, you were always at ease when you’re with him. The reason for the nervousness was you haven’t been in a relationship with someone for so long, and Jungkook has his bars set up high. 

Plus, it was overwhelming in a good way; Jungkook was the confident type and he likes to display how much he adores you – either in private or public places, he didn’t care. As long as he can properly show how much he likes you.  

The arcade has a very 80s feel to it, with a color scheme of mostly red, yellow, and blue. It was lively and has a fun atmosphere going around. Children were running around with their parents, eager to search for another machine to take over, teenage boys were competing against each other in a game of Tekken, and a lot of girls were having a blast inside the Karaoke rooms. 

While time goes on in the arcade, you never realized that he was super competitive. “Y/n, I’m gonna beat this record, watch me.” He says in a deep tone as though wanting to sound serious, stretching his arms to prepare for the punching machine.

“Are you sure?” you chuckle as you hold all of you two’s well-earned tickets from the past hours, “The record is 877. Are you even strong enough?”

You could’ve sworn to yourself that it was an innocent, genuine question. But Jungkook, on the other hand, turns behind to look at you with those dark yet sensual eyes. He precipitously cracks his knuckles, succeeding to intimidate you.

“What a weird question, Y/n,” he says sarcastically with a smirk daubed on his face, “I don’t think you know how powerful I am, babe.”

As soon as those words left his lips, he turns back around in a flash, swinging his right arm with all his might until his fist crashes against the punching bag. You let out a loud gasp, mouth forming into a beaming wide grin as the machine slightly thuds from the harsh impact.

Still, he doesn’t look at the score and he looks at you with a cocky grin, boldly spreading his arms out.

“Kook—” you snort.

“What did I tell you, Y/n? I’m the strongest man you know.”

“Sure but,” you cover your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing too loud, “You s-scored 878!”

Jungkook whips around instantly. Surely, surely he didn’t win by only 1 single point! He groans and stomps his foot like a little child. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You couldn’t control your laughter anymore as you reach out to him, hugging his body from behind. Jungkook throws his head back in despair while he places his hands on top of yours. Your hug felt warm and soft, feeling your cheek pressed up against him. Jungkook turns you around until he was face to face with you.

“You’re so small,” he practically whispers underneath his breath. He places his long, slender index finger below your chin and tilts your head up. Then with his other hand, he uses it to remove the lost strands of hair away from your face. “So fucking cute.”

You can’t help but look away as your body freezes in place. And once again, you feel yourself wanting to crawl into a little ball and hide from everyone from how tough he was staring at you. There was a fuzzy, fiery feeling going on inside your system that you can’t seem to handle.

“Nuh-uh, keep those pretty eyes on me.” He applies just the right amount of force on your chin and angles your head to look up.

Your breathing almost stops at that single sentence.

Jungkook looked like as if numerous of thoughts were running through his brain. His eyes were not only fixated on yours but were darting all over. He memorizes the pattern on your face; the distance between your nose to your mouth, the little creases near your eyes, your moles, and even the little pimples you had on your temples, he thinks you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful to handle.

‘How can a person look so perfect?’ He asks himself.

“Kook?”

Oh, how soft your voice is. His mouth curves into a gentle smile for he can’t help himself but pull you closer.

“Hm?”

“People are staring.”

Jungkook scoffs quietly, “Let them stare, Y/n. This is our world and they’re just living in it.”

You had a tough, long day at work and this date really made your day better. You were laughing and having fun with Jungkook the whole time, experiencing one of the most enjoyable days you’ve ever had. It was as if all of your problems went away whenever you’re with him. You and he played almost every game in the arcade, except for the Dance Dance machine which was sadly under maintenance. You were really looking forward to beating him in Dance Revolution because he insists that he’s a good dancer. He has yet to prove that to you! 

“Yes! I won!” You yelled, turning your hands into a fist after successfully beating Jungkook at the Hockey table. He chuckles when you stuck your tongue out at him like a child.

“I obviously allowed you to win that one, babe,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “I mean, you have to win at least something, right?”

“Hey!” you pout, treading heavily to his side. Jungkook gawks down at you with his brows raised. “I won because I’m good at it, okay?”

“Aww,” he teases, “Alright then little one. Say whatever you want.”

“You’re so,” you gulp, “so m-mean.”

Jungkook looks around the arcade, zooming his eyes all over the place until he spots an ice-cream seller just outside the building.

An idea pops up inside his mind.

“I’ll treat you some ice cream, how’s that?”

He notices how your eyes glimmer as if little shining stars replaced your pupils. You nod frantically.

“Yeah? Alright, wait for me here, okay? And in the meantime, how about you turn in all of our tickets, and let’s see if we can get the penguin stuffie.”

“Okay,” you jitter excitedly, holding the stack of tickets tighter. You watch him walk out of the area, catching the way he pulls out his black leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

Making your way down the hallway to the main entrance where the ticket eaters are, you smile at a couple of strangers who had their eyes on you. When you arrived, you can’t take your eyes off of the shelves full of plushies. Especially the pink penguin that you were after. You had an instinct to squint your eyes at the toy as if having a little staring contest with it while the machine consumes and counts all of the tickets.

After a little while, you hear Jungkook’s voice calling your name.

“Y/n!” he shouts, holding up two cookies and cream ice cream cones, “come, come!”

You sprinted. You didn’t know why you were so excited to get the ice cream, leaving the tickets counting all alone behind you.

“Yaaay! Ice cr—oomph!” 

There was a step slightly higher towards the exit and your feet immediately collides against it. Like a quick wisp of air, your body smashes upon the hard, cold cemented floor. A loud, painful cry escapes your lips as you close your eyes, trying to endure the building pain on your forearms and knees.

‘This is so embarrassing!’ you say in your mind, struggling to regain your composure. 

People around you looked, some tried to hide their obvious laughter by covering their mouths, but none helped.

Jungkook saw everything. Quickly handing the ice cream back to the vendor, saying that ‘he’ll come back for it’, he dashes to where you are and handles your fallen body with utmost care.

“Hey, hey baby,” he whispers, placing his hands on your underarms to lift you up with ease, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His heart drops to his stomach right when you looked up at him with your big, teary eyes.

“Oh god,” Jungkook’s voice weakens, “No, no, don’t cry baby girl, don’t cry…”

You were so humiliated. You shouldn’t have run so fast like that, you should’ve watched your step! Now everyone will look at you weirdly!

Whimpering when Jungkook makes you walk, you shake your head to show that it hurts as you try to hold back your tears. “Ohh, Y/n,” he sighs before he lifts you up, and carries you to a nearby brown bench just outside the arcade. He crouches before you, “Does your knees hurt, hmm?” his hands caress your exposed legs up and down, trying his best to soothe you.

Biting your lip, you nod slowly.

“Aw, goodness,” he leans closer to you and kisses your forehead, “What did you do, huh? You should’ve been more careful and watched your step.” He clicks his tongue, making a ‘tsk’ sound, “Good thing there’s no scratches.”

The stern, strict tone of his voice caused you to look away and hang your head low. “S-Sorry…” you sniffed.

A single tear flows out of your right eye and it slowly treads down your cheek. Jungkook was quick to notice, wiping your tear away with his thumb. “Hey, it’s okay baby.” He reaches your hand and gives it a little kiss, “Don’t cry now, hmm? Look at me,” he tilts your head up with a single finger underneath your chin, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re okay, you’re with me.”

You only stared at him with glossy eyes, not giving a reply. However, Jungkook’s mind comes up with a plan. “Wait here Y/n, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“No!” you whine, shaking your head. Your hands grab onto his muscular biceps as you try to pull him closer.

He chuckles quietly and holds your face in his big, warm hands, his eyes staring deep into yours. “I won’t be going far, baby girl, I’m not leaving you alone, yeah? Stay here for me, I’ll be back in a quick second.” With a final kiss on top of your head, he shuffles back inside the arcade, leaving you alone on the bench while the soft, supple air kisses your skin. The wind whooshes your hair to one side, causing a few strands to get caught in your mouth. You hiked your knees up to your stomach, hugging yourself in search of comfort.

You never want to go inside that arcade ever again.

A few moments have passed and you see Jungkook walking back to you with a huge grin on his face, hands behind his back as if hiding something.

Your mood instantly picks up again when he surprises you with the soft, pink penguin stuffie, handing it over to you with a big smile. You eagerly reached your arms out to grab for the toy, but he doesn’t give it to you just yet. 

“Uh-uh, promise me you won’t be sad anymore?”

“I promise!” you giggle, eyes laid still on the penguin. “Gimme!”

“Right,” he sighs amusingly, “Here you go, babe.” Jungkook laughs from how fast you snatched the stuffie away from him. He looks at you with love as you cuddled the toy in your arms, pressing your cheeks against it.

In the meantime, he leaves you to get the ice creams that the vendor was still keeping an eye on the entire time. Jungkook pays him and apologizes for the wait, before coming back to you with two cones in each hand.

“Ice cream,” he gives you your cone, “for my crybaby.”

Jungkook, somehow – as crazy as it may sound – feels his chest warming up from the sight of you. How come he likes seeing you this way? Something about taking care of you drives his heart pounding. Was it because you look so cute, yet so vulnerable? Or was it his caretaking, nurturing personality that was beginning to emerge? Whatever it was, Jungkook was fond of it.

Jungkook walks you back home, his hand intertwined with yours, while you carry your penguin toy that you named Perry. 

“Perry?” Jungkook chuckles amusingly, “Like Perry the Platypus?” 

“Nope!” you shake your head with a serious glint in your face, “Perry the Pink Penguin!” 

“Well that’s just horrific.” 

The air around the two of you was great – it wasn’t hot nor cold either. You two had little sweet talks and short conversations here and there as your shoes brush along the paved sidewalks.

When you both end up in your doorstep, you bid Jungkook goodbye. “Thank you for today, Kook,” you speak shyly, “And um, for this—” you refer to the penguin stuffie. He chuckles but not a word has been spoken. So you continue, “I-I also want to say sorry… for uh… because you had to see me cry…”

“No, no, it’s alright with me,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, enveloping your small figure into a hug, leaning down so that his chin rests on top of your head. “It doesn’t bother me. In fact, uh, Y/n?”

You raise your brows, pulling out of the hug to stare at him, “Yeah?”

Jungkook gulps the ball that has been formed in his throat, looking away from your beautiful face for a moment before recollecting his thoughts, “I’ve…I’ve thought about this for a while now. Like a really long time.”

You listen with your mouth slightly agape, watching him get a little flustered.

“I really really fucking like you, Y/n. I know you know that already.”

Your heart beats a little faster.

“And I want to spend more time with you. There’s not a day where I don’t think about you. Almost every second of my mind is filled with you and your pretty smile. I w-want to treat you and take care of you everyday without having to think twice. So, uh, if you want can you…can you be my girl—”

“Yes!”

Jungkook was taken aback from your quick reply. His eyes slightly expand as the corner of his lips curve up, “Yes?”

“Yes! I-I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Jungkook’s heart was filled with joy and ecstasy for he was so glad that you felt the same way. He lifts your body up and spins you around, causing you to squeal and hold onto his shoulders.

“You’re mine now, Y/n. Fucking finally.”

*end of flashback*

“What do you mean?! So the entire time we were playing games at that arcade… the moment you fell in love with me was when I cried because I tripped?!” You bellowed, sitting up straight on the couch as Jungkook laughs his ass off from your reaction.

“Well, obviously it’s not only that! That moment just sticks to my mind a lot. You’re too adorable when you cry.” Jungkook smirks on the last sentence, having two meanings behind it. 

You huff, standing up to head to the bedroom. “Hey, where are you going baby?” With him still giggling, he tries to catch your arm.

“Bedroom! I’m scared of Edward Scissorhands. You’re weird, Jungkook.”

“I’ll be with you after I finish my ice cream!”

Being a graphic designer can be challenging yet enjoyable at the same time. You get to do what you love which was drawing and editing digital photos, yet the only downfall was that you had to work in an office building. Being an introvert, having a lot of people around your workplace was a lot to get used to.

But thankfully, you have Jimin.

Not only is he one of your best friends, but he was also a senior designer who is assigned to you – his inferior.

Sometimes you two can’t even get a single thing done because all you both did was fool around your office, instead of him guiding you and teaching you the ropes.

“Hey, Y/n!” Jimin gleams as he walks inside the office room, hands in his pockets. He was wearing black fitted pants and a white long-sleeved shirt tucked inside. “Have you ate yet?”

You stretch your arms out, twisting your body side to side to crack your bones. “Uh, yeah! I ate two cups of ramen before you got here.”

He smiles at you, “That’s good. Anyway, are we still working on the designs for our Christmas calendar?” Jimin sits across from you, eyeing all of the scattered papers filled with colorful drawings.

“Mhm! This is my fourth edit. Director didn’t like my designs,” you pout.

“That’s why you need my help, Y/n.” He speaks slowly with his eyes squinting, enunciating his words, “Me and no one else.”

“Sure.” You roll your eyes.

“That’s no way to talk to your superior!”

Meanwhile, Jungkook tilts his head to the side in dismay when he gets stuck in the long traffic. He was on the way to your office building to pick you up from work, but of course, it just had to be a busy Monday today. No cars were moving even a single inch, the whole highway motionless that causes Jungkook to zone out a little bit.

Zoning out isn’t a good move for Jungkook for he tends to think about the most ridiculous, absurd things ever.

But suddenly, as if his thoughts were infatuated by a demon, the image of your sobbing, fucked-out face flashes in his mind. He unconsciously bites on his lower lip, remembering how much your little body shuddered, and how you keep withering around the bed from even the slightest of touch.

“Shit,” Jungkook breathes out, feeling uncomfortable in his seat. He shuffles around until he finds a good position, sensing a tightness in his pants. He recalls how he got so turned on just from your sensitivity, the way you were whimpering and trying your best to hold back your tears.

Knowing that he’s the only person that can make you cry from having sex really strokes his ego. Before he had you, he didn’t know that he had a kink for making his significant other cry during intercourse. 

It may be just the sadistic side of him getting fueled up whenever he sees your tears, he can’t explain how much it drives him wild.

Jungkook smirks while he rests his elbow on the car door as his fingers play with his lip. He’s cocky about the fact that he can make you sob and quiver like that. Make you turn so fucking submissive and obedient for him, letting him take over and control your frail, poor body.

He remembers the first time he discovers your filthy kinks and fantasies, how baffled he was to know that an innocent, shy girl like you can be so wild. It was always the ones you don’t expect to have a freaky side.

Jungkook grunts as his hand grip the steering wheel a little tighter, knuckles turning white. He chuckles to himself as the raging boner hardens beneath his black ripped jeans, almost being a little too painful to bear. He hears your cries of pleasure ringing in his ears, the way you whimpered so cutely every time, your sobs growing louder and louder, he loves those noises. Thankfully, the traffic eases up and cars finally move.

“Oh, Y/n,” Jungkook mutters whilst shaking his head, “What an angel you are.”

If it weren’t for the traffic lights that always reminded him to slow down, Jungkook would’ve driven in light-speed just to see you again. His dirty thoughts that won’t go away was making him impatient and hornier. 

When he successfully arrives at the building, he speed-walks to the elevator, heading to the second floor. Jungkook taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms together. “Fucking hell,” he grunts as his mind keeps repeating images of your cute body trying to take his dick, how your legs shake, or the way your eyes couldn’t keep themselves open from the pleasure he was giving you. He sighs with a little grin on his face, “Why am I like this?”

The door opens and he makes his way to your area, knowing which hallways and turns he has to make thanks from his previous visits. He makes long, quick strides until he finally reaches your office.

But the excited smile that was once planted in his face fades away when he spots you from outside the window, with Jimin behind you. Jungkook feels his body tense when Jimin leans his body from behind, his arms trapping your upper body with his cheek pressed against your face.

“What the fuck?”

Jungkook’s blood boils and he feels himself getting enraged. Why were you letting him touch you like that? He knows that Jimin’s only a friend, but he was not supposed to act all touchy like that with a girl who’s already taken. It made Jungkook furious to see some other man holding his girl like that – for he was supposed to be the only one. The only arms that are supposed to wrap around your body are his.

He tries to calm down. Jungkook really does attempt to calm down but his nerves don’t stop heating up. With a shaky exhale, he grabs his phone from his back pocket and calls your number to test if you’ll pick up.

“Oh, wait, is that your phone?” Jimin asks, “Someone’s calling you.”

You giggle while you make your way to the desk while dragging Jimin behind you. Your phone displayed Jungkook’s name – although it made your heart skip a beat – you declined the call.

“Huh,” Jungkook scoffs, smirking wrathfully. He doesn’t even try to wonder why you didn’t pick up. He feels irritated and all the flirty, playful mood he once had was gone in a single moment.

You jump in surprise when the door swings open, revealing a very angry Jungkook making his way to your desk. Jimin instantly distances himself away from you.

“B-Babe!” you laugh nervously, palms getting sweaty. You quickly glance at Jimin, sending him a worried look before turning your attention back to Jungkook. Your boyfriend stands tall across the desk with his arms crossed, glaring at you with a lifted eyebrow. “You’re here e-early!”

He doesn’t reply.

Unwillingly, you clasp your hands behind your back and your head hangs low from Jungkook’s intimidating, hard glare, falling right into submission. You gulp from the immense tension that builds up in the room.

“Uh…I’ll be heading off—” Jimin says, making his way to the exit but Jungkook doesn’t speak a single word to him, nor to you. 

You take this chance to gather all of your belongings, packing your laptop, tablet, and shoving all of your papers inside your tote bag in a rush. 

“So we’re allowed to let other people touch us, hmm, Y/n?” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. His head was tilted up although his gaze looks down on you. 

“I-It doesn’t mean anything!” you feel your knees getting wobbly, wanting to just disappear from the harsh look he was giving you. 

He rolls his eyes, “Of fucking course it doesn’t. But tell me, Y/n, if it were the other way around. If you saw some other girl’s face pressed against fucking mine while she had her arms around me, would you like it?” With your feet shuffling against the floor in fear, you look away from him. “Huh? Would you like seeing some other girl in your place?” 

“No.” 

“No. That’s correct. So I have the right to be fucking angry.” 

Jungkook rushes forward, “Why didn’t you answer your phone, hmm?” he slams his hand on the desk, causing you to gasp. “Y/n?”

While your eyes look down on the ground, you can hear the heel of his boots clicking against the floor, walking closer to you. The air that surrounds the two of you immediately thickens, and you weren’t a fan of the tense atmosphere at all.

“I was w-working—”

“Bullshit.” He grips your jaw tightly in one hand, forcing you to angle your head up and look at him. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Your heart clenches and drops down to the floor from the stringent attitude of his voice. You mewl when he tightens his grip and feverishly rattles your head side to side. “Use your fucking words.”

“I…w-was…” you stammer, “talking with Jimin.” Instant regret fills your mind and body for even being so close with Jimin when you should’ve answered his call. “I’m sorry—!”

“Save your sorry’s for later. I won’t be accepting your apologies soon enough, brat.”

He releases his grip on you and walks away without sparing you another glance. “We’ve been together for so long, Y/n. Haven’t you learned that I don’t like it when other men oggle you up?” Jungkook turns back around, lifting the hems of his long-sleeves so that it exposes his forearms. “If I wasn’t here, you would’ve allowed him to keep touching you like that, right? Yes or no?” 

You immediately shake your head, “N-No!” 

“No? Really...” he laughs darkly, “Please, Y/n, I wasn’t born yesterday. Since he’s ‘just a friend’ I still think you would’ve let him touch you. I know you, I see right past your fucking lies.” 

He wasn’t wrong, and you feel so guilty. So guilty that all you wanted to do was to hug him and apologize, but you know that it isn’t easy. 

“Head down to the car. Don’t make me wait for you because if not, I’m gonna fucking leave you here.” He brushes his long hair back and with that, he was gone.

A chill came running down your spine and you immediately follow right behind his footsteps.

The car ride back home was quiet and you didn’t like the silence at all. You were trying to force yourself to talk, say sorry so that everything will hopefully go back to normal. But there was as if a thick wall separating the two of you.

“Babe?” you whisper meekly, your hand nervously playing with the hem of your thigh-high stockings. Jungkook clenches his jaw yet he doesn’t respond.

A pout creeps up your lips instinctively, “I’m really really sorry…”

No response.

You feel a heavy burden in your heart, upsetting you even more because he was giving you the silent treatment. Jungkook has never ignored you like this before, not even in your most heated argument. Looking at his face in hopes that he’ll at least give you a single glance, you depict how his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes straight ahead on the road. “Kook, please talk to me—”

Your words got cut off when the engine suddenly roars loudly and the car accelerates, your body going in a state of shock as Jungkook shifts the gear. He steps on the pedal and the car goes from a steady 60 to 80 miles per hour.

“Jungkook! S-Slow down!” your left hand reaches out to grab a hold of his own hand, but he was quick to shove it away, leaving you sad and whining in your seat.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, “The faster we get back home, the quicker I can punish you.” He says without looking at you.

Your core jumps and twists at his demeaning words, feeling confused yet excited at the same time. Unintentionally, you clench your thighs together as his hot, sultry voice resonates throughout the car.

“You can smile all you want right now baby,” he mutters, “Gonna wipe that cheeky little grin on your face later when I force your orgasms out of you.”

“Put your hands against the wall,” Jungkook immediately commands after he drags you to his bedroom. He stands tall behind you, watching your poor figure slowly obeying his words. His lips curve up when he studies your body, already trembling in fear. This feeds unto his primal, dominant desires to take over you and ruin you. Your little hands touch the cold walls with your back slightly arched, already knowing what’s about to come.

Jungkook’s dick throbs in just the sight of the combination of your skirt and thigh-highs. He doesn’t hesitate to firmly grasp your ass cheek below the flimsy material with his big hand, causing a whimper to fall off your lips. “Look at this fucking outfit you have,” he muses, “If it weren’t for that sweater you have on, I would’ve said that you look so much like a fucking slut.”

“Jungkook—”

He suddenly blows a hard slap, “That’s not my name. Huh, you really wanna disobey daddy?”

You whimper, “N-No.”

He hikes your skirt up to expose more of your plump ass, landing another harsh spank that caused your body to jolt, eyes fluttering shut from the sting. “No? Isn’t it disrespectful to ignore daddy’s phone-calls?” he hits your ass again, harder, his muscles flexing. “Tell me, what was Jimin doing that he just need to fucking put his hands all over you with his head so fucking close to yours, huh?”

Your eyes instantly start to become glossy from the solid, rough slaps on your tender ass cheeks. Chewing on your bottom lip, you try your best to cover your little sniffs.

Within a quick second, Jungkook flips you around until your back was pressed firmly against the wall, his hand wrapped around your throat. You hitch your breath up from the aggressive behavior, how his eyes were quick to scan your body up and down like a predator. “You’re not gonna answer me?” he scoffs, “Fucking god – you love to make daddy mad, don’t you? Acting like such a bitch.”

Furiously shaking your head side to side, you disagree with his statement. Jungkook is scary when he’s angry – even though it can be seen as hot sometimes – you never want to make him mad on purpose!

“T-That’s not true, daddy!” your bottom lip faintly quivers as your eyes can’t seem to focus on him.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise up, giving you a mocking expression, “Ohh really, baby?” the grip on your throat tightens, making you gasp for air, “You don’t like making me angry? When in fact that I know you like being punished like this. You like daddy manhandling your frail, little body, and letting him ruin it in every possible way. Are you gonna lie and tell me that that isn’t true, hm? ”

You didn’t know what to answer. Your chest heaves up and down in panic while you release a quiet, little mewl in desperation. Jungkook – somehow – finds that adorable; how your big, teary eyes look up at him in utter fear of what’s about to come.

He smirks as he leans down to your height, your faces so close to each other as his lips barely graze against yours. You can feel his hot breath upon you, the warmness of his body resonating. 

With a low, almost gravelly voice, he asks you; “Do you not talk?”

Those words seem awfully familiar…

Gulping nervously, you tremble, “I-I can…”

“You can? Sorry darling, I just needed to make sure because you seem to be silent every time I ask a goddamn question. Now, get on the fucking bed.”

Jungkook watches you scramble and obey his command, the cold mattress rubs against your skin from the air conditioning. He stands at the edge of the bed, watching you with primal eyes. “Undress.”

“W-What?”

“I said what I said. Strip,” he crosses his arms, revealing his toned biceps, “Leave your skirt and stockings on. Remove everything except those.”

You can’t seem to look at his eyes because you were afraid that you were going to melt when you do so. You tug your sweater up, your skin exposing to the air that surrounds the two of you, followed by your bra. Your boyfriend sees your cute hardened nipples, making him smirk a little bit.

“Now your panties, go on.”

Before you can even yank your undergarment down, Jungkook speaks, “Look at me while you do so. You’ve been avoiding my eyes all this time.”

Jungkook barely hears the quiet whimper that emits your mouth while your eyes finally lock onto his. Wanting to tease you furthermore, he sends you a cocky smirk with a quick raise of his brow as you pulled your panties down.

His breath almost hitches up from the sight of you, all naked except those kinky pairs of stockings and skirt. He wonders if you specifically wore them just to tease him, heck, was it even appropriate for your work? Even so, he’s glad that he’s the only person to see you like this, so beautiful and ready to be ruined.

You wonder if he’s going to crawl on the bed with you and touch you, waiting for him to make a move but nothing happens. You look up at him expectantly with wide eyes as your hands timidly fumble with your skirt.

“Touch yourself.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. Did you hear him correctly? Like... does he really want you to play with yourself right in front of him? You can feel your tummy do backflips from his words while you instantly turn shy once again.

“Fucking hell, is one instruction not enough for that brain of yours to comprehend? I said—,” he leans down to grab your thighs, forcing your legs apart with vigor, exposing your cunt all to his eyes. “—touch yourself.”

You whine when he suddenly crawls on top of you, arms on either side of your figure to support himself up, his face hovering above yours. He leans down and whispers in your ear, “Bring your hand down, little girl, and play with your pussy the way daddy does.”

Without angering him further, you obey and brought your hand down to touch your clit. Jungkook never removes his eye-contact as he watches your face slowly contort in pleasure. With two fingers, you gently circled your clit, making your mouth part open from the meek pleasure. “O-Ohh,” you can feel your wet lips when you dragged your fingers along them.

You feel so embarrassed masturbating in front of him like this. Jungkook chuckles and kneels in front of you, placing his knees in between your spread legs to watch how you play with your cunt. You moan when he finally grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, revealing his toned body for your eyes to see. This encouraged you to rub your clit faster, but it just wasn’t enough.

“Daddy…” you whine, “please...”

Jungkook notices the frown that was beginning to form your lips, but instead of feeling bad, he takes the opportunity to degrade you. “What is it, baby? Hm? Do you even know how to touch your pussy?” he teases, “Do you still fuckin’ need daddy’s help?”

You don’t even care if you look pitiful, shaking your head up and down. “Y-Yes, please touch m-me…” you say with a quiet voice. As you continue to masturbate, Jungkook sees how your body trembles, knowing that it wants more.

But sadly, you look too good in this position that you’re in. Your skirt hiked up to your abdomen while your toes curl in desperation. Jungkook lightly scoffs as he doesn’t hesitate to palm his rock-hard cock through his jeans. “Mmm, I would if you had been a good girl. But daddy wants you to cum with your own fingers, prove to me that you’re a big girl who can fucking cum without my help.”

You release an exasperated groan, arching your back in utter need. Jungkook was cruel to do this to you, as he definitely knows how much you prefer his own fingers on your juicy little pussy.

The sight was boosting his ego, whether he likes it or not. He observes how your cute, middle finger tries to insert itself inside your tight little hole, earning a loud moan from you. Jungkook sees your arousal dripping down from your entrance, the glistering liquid running down to your ass. You were so wet, and he was dying to taste you. Jungkook feels his dominance taking over as his patience was wearing thin, wanting to shove your hands away and just take over. It frustrates him how desperate you make him feel without even trying.

You finger yourself with one hand, as the other continues to rub your clit. You try to remember how Jungkook does it, your mind trying to reminisce his techniques, making you distracted from your own pleasure. It doesn’t even feel half as good as his! You let out a loud, frustrated whine, feeling your eyes well up with tears once again.

“I-I can’t,” you sniff, a tear rolling down your cheek as you try your best to make yourself feel good, “Please, daddy I need y-you!”

Jungkook leans forward as he wipes your tears with his thumb, licking his lips slowly while he watches you with a sensual look. “What do you need from daddy, hm?”

You groan, hating how much he can torture you like this. Your breathing was already unstable and your mind was thinking of ways on how you can make him touch you. “I need your fingers, daddy – please? I can’t cum like this,” you shake your head desperately, “I can’t.”

“Holy fucking shit, I think I need to get a new baby girl. One who knows how to pleasure herself without my help.”

“No!” you yell, closing your eyes as more tears wells up, “N-No! I-I’m sorry I just can’t…”

Jungkook almost feels bad. Almost.

“That’s sad, baby girl. If you can’t cum then don’t try anymore.” He abruptly spanks your inner thigh, leaving you crying for more, “You’ve been a bad girl today and you’ve got to endure your punishment.”

Jungkook tugs your hands away and your pussy clenches from the sour loss. “Keep crying, slut, this is what you deserve.” He stands up from the bed and makes his way to the closet to get something. You obediently lay there with a frown as you wiped your eyes, ogling his broad, muscular back in the meantime.

When he was taking up more time than you wanted, you kicked your legs impatiently while whining.

He smirks, rolling his eyes, “Impatient, I see?” After that, he swiftly turns around to reveal a red-colored rope, dangling it side to side for a little tease.

“What are you g-gonna do with that?” you ask with wide, glossy eyes.

Jungkook walks back to you with that signature sultry yet teasing look, making you anticipate what’s about to come even more.

“Daddy’s gonna tie your hands behind your back until your wrists bruise, little one.”

Your core throbs from the image he paints in your mind, how the rope would probably scratch against your skin, and how turned on he would be from the sight of you struggling. Jungkook motions you to turn around with a little spin of his finger. You kneel, looking away from him while he grabs your wrists together in one hand. The arrogant smirk doesn’t wipe off of his face as he ties the rope around your hands, whimpering when he pulls it tight. 

“Is that too tight baby girl?” he asks, stopping himself from laughing, “Does it hurt?”

You sniff, “A l-little bit.”

“Good. I was actually planning to bind your legs together as well, but I don’t think you can handle that anymore.” He says behind you, “I don’t think your precious body can handle being daddy’s little ropebunny.”

With his words, you turn your head to look at him with a confused expression, “Rope…ropebunny?”

Jungkook chuckles and nods his head once.

“What does that mean, daddy?”

Jungkook’s heart swell, “Means that you’re letting me tie you up, restraint your body with rope – and letting daddy do whatever he fucking wants to you. Bruise your skin until it hurts too much. If maybe you weren’t such a crybaby and a sensitive little bitch then I would’ve done that to you by now.”

He doesn’t let you reply as he gives your ass a loud, stinging spank using the palm of his right hand. You whimper in pain, closing your eyes for a mere second as your mouth parts.

“Head down, ass up. Now.”

You do as you’re told, and not going to lie, your heart was doing backflips from the nervousness and intimidation of the position that you’re in. Your ass and cunt were so exposed, allowing him to see how wet you are. Your cheeks pressed against the sheets, tilted to the side so that you can at least see a portion of his figure behind you. Although you release a loud cry when he suddenly lands a slap directly on your throbbing clit. Your hands instinctively moved to grab onto something, but the rope was preventing them from doing so.

“Daddy—!” He slaps your pussy again, this time harder. He slides his index finger down your wet slick, teasingly prodding against your entrance that causes your arousal to gush.

“God, you’re so fucking noisy. I’d put a gag in that loud mouth of yours to shut you up, but daddy loves your cute whimpers too much.”

You dig your nails onto your palm when Jungkook finally plays with your pussy, using two fingers to gently – barely rub your clit. The tip of his index and middle finger brushes against your throbbing clit, using the slightest bit of pressure. He bites his lip from the way you wiggle your ass, desperate for more. “You can’t even masturbate without my assistance, fucking hell,” he muses, “did it embarrass you, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum meekly, grinding your teeth together because you needed more friction, and you were too afraid to tell him.

“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, “You had to cry like a pathetic little bitch, too.” Without a warning, he easily shoves his middle finger in, making you arch your back painfully, drawing a loud squeal. He starts pumping it in and out at a fast pace. The wet squelching noise that your cunt makes, paired with your moans was music to his ears. “I guess it feels better when daddy plays with your pussy, right slut?”

When you don’t answer immediately, too focused on the pleasure, he inserts two more fingers in – stretching your pussy. You gasp loudly, his long, slender fingers reaching the most intimate places inside of you. Jungkook bites his lip harshly, getting so turned on from your sweet moans and whines. 

“Y-Yeah… yes daddy – oww fuck – it feels much better,” even though your mind was filled in lust and can’t think of anything else but the way he was furiously pumping three fingers in and out of you, you answer him in fear that his punishment will turn way worse. His three fingers were almost too much for your hole to handle, making your hips tremble as it tries to accommodate the girth. 

“Who owns your pussy, hm?” he uses his other unoccupied hand to rub and pinch your clit, providing you with overstimulation of pleasure. His fingers reach deeper until it hits your g-spot, making your toes curl while you once again tear up. He growls, “Who fucking owns you?”

“You!” you moan, vision getting blurry, “You own me d-daddy…” you can already feel yourself coming close to an orgasm – one thing you can’t do with your own fingers. Your stomach tightens and tightens, waiting for your oh-so needed release. You sob onto the sheets, eyes closed in desperation.

“Good thing you know—” but he suddenly pulls his hands away, leaving you shaking and breathless. “This is my cunt and I get to do whatever I want with it.”

“No!” you groan in frustration from the denied orgasm, eyebrows furrowing as your legs shake, “Fuck y-you.”

Jungkook’s ears pick up the words you muttered.

“What was that?” He roughly wraps his hand around your neck and forces your upper body to lift up. You start to panic as Jungkook chokes you, “What the fuck did you say, hm? Getting fucking bold today, aren’t we?”

“S-Sorry,” you stutter, not having the courage to speak. You didn’t mean to say that at all! You were just frustrated and the words slipped out without realizing it! He sees a droplet of tear dripping down your cheek and he rolls his eyes.

“What a bratty, disobedient little fucktoy.” Jungkook quickly stands up to unbutton his jeans and pulls it down, leaving himself in his underwear. “You’re not the good girl that I know.” He hops back on the bed with you and moves so that he kneels in front of you. He holds your face up with one hand on your jaw as the other pulls his boxers down. Your mouth waters from the sight of his cock springing out, the angry red tip hitting your cheek.

“If I stuff my cock down your throat then maybe you’d shut the fuck up, learn your lesson, and think before you speak. Huh, slut?” He strokes his length a few times, letting his precum lube his cock.

He nudges the tip against your lips, signaling you to open your mouth. He releases a long, guttural moan when you wrap your lips around him as he pushes his length further and further, your mouth feeling so warm and wet. Jungkook initiates the pace as he starts to rock his hips steadily. A sudden gush of tears escapes your eyes when he shoves past your gag reflex, whining as your throat struggles to take in his big cock. 

“Choke.”

Jungkook doesn’t wipe the tears off of your face like he used to, this time letting them flow and drip down your jaw. Your pussy clenches every time he thrusts forwards, feeling yourself get wetter and more aroused from the noises he makes. He twitches whenever your throat contracts, feeling it tighten and squeezes his cock so good.

“Do you like this, baby girl?” he smiles sadistically, “You like being throat fucked?” Jungkook knows you can’t answer so he continues to torment you, “I like you better when your mouth is stuffed with daddy’s cock. Much more useful than being an undisciplined, rude slut.”

You shut your eyes while you slack your jaw, trying to take all of him the best that you can. He grabs a bunch of your hair, pulling at your scalp, the pain making you kick your legs repeatedly. While he snaps his hips, thrusting in and out, Jungkook watches how your saliva drips down from to your chin that makes a whole mess of your face.

Jungkook finally gains some sort of empathy, pulling his dick out to let you breathe. You emit a harsh, rugged exhale. He lowers himself until his face was directly parallel to yours, “Why was he touching you like that?” His eyes scans your poor, messy self, eyes puffy with your hair all over the place. 

You sniff, “He’s just a f-friend!”

He wipes the saliva on the corner of your mouth using his thumb, “Don’t you have a boyfriend? Hm? Doesn’t he know that you’re mine? Even if he’s your goddamn friend, he doesn’t need to touch you like that.” His voice somehow turned soft, a bit more like his natural talking voice. He shakes his head whilst staring directly at your weary eyes, “And what if I wasn’t there, huh? What if he did something to you that I wouldn’t like?”

“Are…” you tilt your head, trying to lighten up the situation in hopes that he’ll go easy on you. You start to giggle, “Are you jealous, daddy?”

You didn’t know that it was a bad move until his face immediately hardens, raising an eyebrow up. He scoffs, “You think I would be punishing you like this if your actions took a toll on me, Y/n?” he stands up from the bed and walks over to the bedside table, opening the drawer, “Lay on your tummy. I won’t say it again.”

Jungkook grabs the remote control vibrator from the box of toys the two of you had been collecting. You certainly love your toys, he knows that, but it’s a completely different situation if he uses them to torture you. It’s better for him that you can’t see what he’s doing, bringing your anticipations up for what’s about to come. He turns the toy on, your breath immediately hitching when you hear the buzzing sound. The hot pink, egg-like looking toy with a slender tail vibrates against his palm.

“Daddy? Wha…what are you gonna do with tha—” Your words painfully got cut off when he plunges the toy inside your pussy, the vibrations instantly resonating throughout your core and lower abdomen. You sobbed loudly, the rope tightening around your wrists whenever you tried to struggle away. “Oh my god!” your back arches, feeling your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “Daddy!”

He walks to the other side of the room to go sit on the plush loveseat, twiddling with the remote on his right hand. He doesn’t hesitate to crank the setting up, noticing how your ass trembles and wiggles. Your mouth drops open while you feel an immense tingling sensation down there, moaning and shuddering on the bed. 

Jungkook wraps his hand around his cock and starts to pump slowly, observing how your cute little figure trembles and makes a mess of the sheets. He notices the way your pussy clenches around the toy so tightly, and how your cunt never stopped dripping in arousal. 

He teases his swollen tip with his thumb as he turns the toy’s setting up another notch. The smirk grows on his face from the noises you make. He was addicted to the sight of you right now; your hips shuddering as you try to escape all of the vast ecstasy, the stockings you wear making you look as adorable as ever – if he had a camera he would definitely take a picture of you.

“Daddy, p-please – I’m gonna cum!” you sob, chewing on your swollen bottom lip. That was his cue to put the setting to the highest level. Within a flash, your spill your cum down your pussy and onto the bed, ruining the sheets as your body contorts, hands balling into tight fists. Your orgasm feels like you gushed a whole waterfall, cumming so hard while your hips involuntarily lifts up off of the bed. 

He continues to fuck his hand, staring at your sweaty, hot body with hooded eyes while he groans darkly. His cock was rock solid and was also begging for a release, but he knows to control himself. Jungkook hears your sobs get louder and louder, knowing that the overstimulation was too much for you to handle.

He stands up and crawls back with you on the bed, his warm hands starting to caress your inner thighs.

“Da—” you cry, “daddy… t-too much…”

“Yeah?” he smirks before lifting your ass up until he was directly in front of your cunt. he smells your arousal and it caused shivers to run down his back. Without holding back, he wraps his mouth around your throbbing clit and starts to suck harshly on it. 

Jungkook was absolutely nasty to do this to you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel his tongue swirl around your bud, flicking and sucking at the same time. You can’t even comprehend the pain and pleasure that as going through your body right now, for it was all too much. “A-Aawwh shit,” you breathe, “D-Daddy, I can’t... oh m-my god!” 

The combination of the powerful buzzing vibrator inside you, plus his mouth on your clit caused another strong climax to wash throughout your system. You flail your arms behind your back as your body can’t seem to keep still. Jungkook holds your hips in place as he licks your pussy clean of your cum. He grunts from the way your legs were quivering after forcing another orgasm out of you. 

“Taste so fuckin’ delicious,” he says after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “What a good little pussy.” 

Finally, he pulls on the tail and the toy plops out with a wet sound. Though your chest doesn’t stop heaving up and down, your system is still riled up from the strong orgasms you just had.

“What will you say, baby girl, hm?”

You perk your head up from the sudden question. Your mind quickly wanders for an answer but was quickly distracted when you feel him squeeze your tender ass cheeks. 

Leaning down to your ear, he whispers with an awful smirk, “Say ‘thank you daddy’.” His monotone voice sent shivers all throughout your body, “Say thank you for letting you cum. I would’ve stopped the toy and edged you when you were about to orgasm to further your punishment, but glad I didn’t, right baby?”

“Thank…” your cheeks start to heat up, “Thank you for l-letting me cum, daddy.”

“Mm, good girl. I just had to get a taste of your sweet cunt after seeing you shake and tremble like that. Such a good, pretty little girl.” 

He was actually supposed to reward you after this. That was just his initial plan, until he is distracted by your phone suddenly ringing from the other side of the room. He quirks a brow up and starts heading to where your bag was placed, rummaging through it to get the device that interrupted the moment.

He reads the caller ID.  

Jungkook is dead quiet as he reaches back to you until he takes a seat on your thighs. His silence further builds up your anxiousness, your gut twisting and turning after you hear him groan underneath his breath. “Daddy?” whispering, you tilt your head to the side to figure out what he was doing.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you picked up the phone,” Jimin speaks in a rush, “I was so worried about what happened. Are you and Jungkook okay?” He rolls his eyes and doesn’t hesitate to put the phone on loudspeaker, placing the device in front of you so that you can see who was calling.

Jimin’s voice unsettled you, leaving your body in a state of shock, humiliation, and awkwardness. You furiously shake your head, lips pursed in a straight, pungent line – making it known to Jungkook that you didn’t want to talk to him. Why can’t he just hang up?!

“Hello? Y/n?” As Jimin worries from the other side of the line, you quietly mewl when you feel him poking the tip of his dick right up against your dripping wet entrance, sliding the head up and down your soaked slit slowly to torture you. “Answer him,” Jungkook growls from behind, “Talk to him as I fuck your tight little pussy.”

“Y/n, do you hear me?” Jimin asks once again, and this time you pick up the courage to reply.

“Y-Yeah,” your voice strains, closing your eyes as you try your best not to moan out loud as Jungkook pushes the head in, feeling your walls flutter around his thick girth. “I hear – oohh – I hear you.”

While inching his cock further and further, he grasps your bounded wrists in one hand, as the other firmly holds onto your waist. He struggles to keep quiet, only releasing quick little grunts here and there as he slowly thrusts his hips. Your body squirms from the humiliating situation he has put you through, yet he holds you down.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened earlier,” You notice the sad tone in Jimin’s voice, “I really didn’t mean to touch you like that, and I should’ve known better. You’re taken.”

“M-Mhmm—!” Jungkook shoves his length deeper and deeper, hit tip hitting your g-spot again and again, rougher and harder with each sharp thrust. Your eyes generate more tears, definitely making your nose a little bit stuffy while you struggle to breathe properly. Jungkook groans underneath his breath from how tight your pussy is after being teased and tortured.

Jimin continues with his apology, saying that he wants to personally apologize to Jungkook – but you weren’t listening anymore. You can’t! His words were going in one ear and out of the other because your mind only focuses on how his big, thick cock was tearing your cunt apart. With each outward stroke, your pussy keeps sucking him back in. He smirks from the way your pussy was gushing your arousal endlessly, soaking the sheets and making a mess of yourself.

As if everything can’t be humiliating enough, Jungkook blows a hard, loud spank on your ass, definitely not caring if it can be heard from the other end of the call. Gasping, you mewl from the stinging sensation but also worried if Jimin heard. Jungkook laughs menacingly, spanking your ass again.

“Y-Y/n?” Jimin says slowly, “What’s happening over there?”

“Nothing! I’m o-okay – mmngg shit,” your jaw drops when he fucks you faster and rougher all of the sudden, his balls starting to clap against your poor, throbbing clit. Jungkook feels impatient so he takes the phone back, puts it against his ear, and speaks for you. “Jimin!” he greets happily as if he’s not pounding your pussy until you break, “Don’t worry about Y/n, she’s doing just great.”

How can he talk so steadily like that? Your teeth sink down on your bruised bottom lip again to stop you from moaning too loud. “But I’m trusting you, Jimin, not to touch my girl like that again, okay? I know you two are friends, sure – but there’s a limit. She has a boyfriend now.”

The possessiveness in his voice turns you on so much, not even expecting such a dark tone as he talks to him like that. Your arms start to hurt after being tied for too long, wrists getting sensitive as it keeps scratching against the rope.

“Yeah, okay, goodbye.” He finally hangs up, throws your phone somewhere on the floor. After that, he firmly grips your waist and changes your position with ease. He sits down on the bed, flips you around to make you straddle his cock.

His breath almost gets stuck in his throat from the way you looked. His hands immediately flies to cup your head, thumbs wiping your tears away from your cheeks as you look down at his with lustful eyes. “Baby girl,” he whispers, eyes raking your body up and down while you don’t stop bouncing on his cock, “Keep crying. I wanna see you get ruined on my big cock.”

He pulls you closer by wrapping his right hand around your neck, squeezing tightly, as his other hand guides your hips up and down. Your hard nipples slightly graze against his chest, adding more pleasure than you already can take.

“I’m g-gonna cum,” you grit, eyes drooping, “I’m gonna fucking cum again, daddy.”

He chuckles and nods his head. He can’t stay angry at you for too long. He can’t wait to provide you the aftercare that you deserve after this. He helps you to your orgasm by meeting your thrusts, fucking his cock into you while he brings a hand down to rub your clit with vigor. Your moans were getting louder, higher in pitch, as you can feel the oh-so-familiar tightness in your stomach again. You throw your head back, hands trying to pry themselves out of the rope. Thankfully, he gives you the benefit of the doubt and finally starts undoing the knot, unwrapping your wrists so that they can finally be set free. “Here you go princess,” he groans, “Ah ah, keep your arms still.”

Within a second of your hands being free, you quickly hug his sweaty body so tightly, pressing your cheeks against his shoulder, not only to have something to hold onto but to feel his comfort after a long time of being suppressed and denied from it. Jungkook laughs and kisses your shoulder, “I love you, Y/n.”

“Love y-you— awh god, thatfeelssogood!”

“Yeah?” he bites his lip, feeling the urge to tease you with his words for the hundredth time, “How good?” He attaches his mouth on your damp neck, sucking and biting on all of the sweet and tender spots that he knows you love. Trailing kisses all over, you were certain that he’ll leave marks all over your skin. Your body shivers when he uses his teeth to bite down on you, adding more to the buildup of your climax. “So g-good, daddy,” you whine, bouncing up and down harder, “Your big cock f-feels…feels so good inside my tight fucking pussy, daddy.”

Jungkook’s cock throbs from your unexpected words, gasping a little with a cocky smirk, “Mmm, when did you learn how to talk like that, huh?” a spank lands on your right, tender ass cheek, “Such lewd words coming out of that pretty mouth.”

Your mind starts to feel dizzy, almost to the edge of blacking out as your orgasm overpowers your body. He grunts from the way your walls were clenching around him so firmly, using his dick to your own good. Wrapping his arms around you tighter, he forces you to stay still on his cock while letting you ride out your high. “There we go, baby, there we go. Cum for me,” he insinuates, “Fucking hell, such a good, pretty girl for daddy.” He lifts your chin up with one hand, trying your best to make eye-contact with him but your tearful eyes feel too heavy. “Cumming so hard, oh my fucking god darling.”

Almost seeing black and white spots, your mind goes into a frenzy for you have no thoughts but the overwhelming sensation of your climax taking over your body. Jungkook moans as he lays you back down on the bed, bringing himself to his high. With your body shivering from the high sensitivity, Jungkook doesn’t stop.

His thrusts were sloppy and his pace becomes unsteady, moans getting louder. His body tenses and goes still inside of you, trapping your small body in his as he blows his load. He fills your cunt up with his cum, painting your walls in his seed. You can feel him twitch while you claw your hands on his back, trembling.

Jungkook mutters a series of curse words as your pussy squeezes his cock so hard, milking him properly until the very last drop of cum. After a little while, he pulls his dick out and he sees his cum leaking out of your pulsating little hole and dripping onto the bed. Licking his lips from the hot sight, he caresses your inner thighs as he tries to calm you down.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart. Deep, slow breaths for me.” He hovers back on top of you as he places his right arm underneath your head for support, his other hand gently stroking your side. All the anger, all the controlling and dominating aura that he previously had ten seconds ago immediately fades as he takes the role to comfort you the best that he can. He wipes your cheeks clean with the back of his hand, almost looking down at you with a slight pout. “Baby girl, look at me, hm?” Jungkook whispers gently, “Look at me.”

Once you do so, he feels himself almost collapsing from the poor, worn-out look that was embedded on your little face. “Oh, sweetie,” he sighs, “I’m so sorry.”

“N-No,” you slowly shake your head, still breathless, “Don’t say…”

“I should’ve, fuck—” Jungkook tilts his head to the side in dismay, feeling almost frustrated in himself, “I should’ve fucking stopped, look at you baby.” He holds your hand, gives your bruised wrist a wet, long kiss.

“Kook, I’m okay,” you giggle, a hint of tiredness in your voice, “I l-loved it.”

“Are you sure? Baby girl do you remember what I told you? If you ever feel too uncomfortable, or pain that you couldn’t bear anymore, or if you just want me to stop completely, what will you say?”

Perhaps this was one of the best things you love about Jungkook. His duality. One minute he’s rough and would dominate the fuck out of you, and the next minute he’s treating you like his princess.

“I’ll say my safe word.”

“Good,” he kisses your lips once, smiling down at you, “always remember that.”

You were awfully thankful that he’s the type to always shower you in kisses after a whole round of sex. Always caring about your well-being, that’s what he loves to do. Jungkook has cleaned himself in the bathroom first before he can handle and take care of you. He comes out of the bathroom dressed only with a pair of gray sweatpants with a damp towel and one of his t-shirt in his hand.

Kneeling before you on the bed, he starts to gently wipe your inner thighs and genitalia with the cloth. It was ticklish on the spot of your inner thighs, releasing a giggle as you try to move away from him. He smirks, grasping your leg down. “Tickles?” he grins at you.

“Turn around, little one. Let me massage your back.”

Your heart beats happily at that. But once you followed his command, his eyes immediately fly down to your ass. He hikes up the skirt that you still had on a bit higher, and he sees his handprints imprinted on your precious, delicate skin. “Holy shit,” he breathes out. Your body twitches when he carefully lays a hand down. “Sorry for this, little one. Guess you aren’t sitting for a couple of days, huh?”

Hiding your face in your arms, you quietly squeal, his words having an effect on you. “I g-guess so.”

Jungkook proceeds with his mission to massage your back, using his big hands to his advantage to knead your skin with just the right amount of pressure, massaging your arms and shoulders, pressing down on your lower back. Little groans emit from your mouth, enjoying the warmth of his hands. Your eyes eventually close, feeling that you were eventually going to fall asleep from how relaxing it is.

“Want some tea, darling?” he asks.

“Mm, no thank you. I’m a little sleepy…”

Your mouth curves up into a grin when he starts peppering kisses all over your back as well, moving your hair to one side. Jungkook, too, was smiling. He can’t even figure out how he got so lucky with you.

“You wanna nap, Y/n?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay, let’s get you in this shirt first. C’mon sweetie, flip back around for me.”

He holds onto the hem of your skirt and tugs it down, throwing it somewhere on the floor. His shirt reaches almost on your knee after slipping it on. Soon, he lays down beside you and starts spooning your body. It was easy for him to enclose yourself in his warmth, for his limbs were obviously bigger than yours. “Let’s take a rest and clean everything up later, okay?”

Although you didn’t reply.

“Baby?” he tilts your head to make you look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Kook, I-uh…I wanna say sorry for what happened earlier—”

“Shh, shh, settle down now, sweetheart. I’m not angry about that anymore,” he gives you a beaming smile, his dimples peeking through. Oh, to swim in someone’s dimples…

“Don’t worry about it. I love you, Y/n. More than this fucking world.”

“Impossible!” giggling, you eventually squirm around him because you know for a fact that he’ll hug you tighter.

He did.

“Nothing’s impossible when you’re mine – my girl.”

God, you can never take a break with him and his impeccable word choices. You feel your cheeks heat up, shying away from him that caused him to laugh in amusement a little.

“I love you too, Kook,” your heart says genuinely. Jungkook pulls you closer and makes you rest your head on his arm. “Cozy? Let’s take a rest, baby. You’ve had a long day today, you did well. You might be sore afterwards but I’ll be right here when you wake up.”  The only thing you can remember after that was the gentle kiss he placed on your cheek, and the feeling of love and comfort in the air that encloses both of you. 

“You know, Jungkook,” Taehyung speaks while munching on his Cap’n Crunch cereal, watching Jungkook come back to their apartment after driving you back to your own building. “You’re fucking lucky I was out partying. If not I would’ve…” Jungkook rolls his eyes when Taehyung fakes a gagging sound, “I w-would’ve thrown up hearing the two of you.”

“Funny,” he says blandly while heading towards the cupboards to make himself his own bowl of cereal.

Taehyung walks to his side, “Aren’t you and Y/n together for almost a year now? I don’t know much about relationships, but don’t you think it’s time for you guys to have a place of your own?”

Jungkook chuckles, heading towards the living room as he sits on the old green couch with his cereal on one hand. “So you’re kicking me out, Tae?”

“Well yeah, maybe I am, asshole.”

The youngest abruptly turns his head to him with a look of confusion, “Wait, really?”

Taehyung smirks, “Yup! I’m sick of you bringing Y/n here just to fuck, and not even let her hang out with me!”

Hang out with him? Since when was Taehyung interested in her? After a little moment of silence, Jungkook finally thinks of a reply, “What do you even wanna do with her? Also most of the time you’re either out getting drunk or locking yourself up in your room playing video games.”

“Threesome.”

Jungkook almost spits out the mouthful of milk and cereal.

“What the fuck—”

“Let’s have a threesome together.”

“No fucking way, bro.” Jungkook scoffs, pointing a finger at him, “We are not doing that.”

Taehyung was having the time of his life teasing Jungkook. He stands up in front of him, blocking his view of the TV. “I’m not having a threesome just to see you naked, cunt,” slowly, his mouth forms a smirk, “I wanna see Y/n nak—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that, Taehyung. I’m not fucking joking around.”

“Okay, shit, chill man,” he laughs, watching how Jungkook rolls his eyes. “And here I am thinking that you’re kinky and open-minded.”

Taehyung just loves to get into his nerves.

“I am,” Jungkook says in all seriousness, looking directly at his eyes. “But you know how I am with her. How selfish I can be. Other people will be fine with this, sure, but her body is for my eyes only, Tae. You can fuck anyone you like but not my girl.”

Taehyung sighs, walking away as he throws his hand in the air, “Fine, fine, whatever.”

Jungkook crosses his legs together, leaning back into the couch as he closes his eyes. The fact that he just had to put that image into his mind – someone else fucking his girl – he just can’t do it. He can be too possessive of your body and he wants it only for him.

“But if your girl ever wants two cocks to play with one day, hit me up.”

“If she wants two cocks then we’ll use a fucking dildo. Shut your ass up or else I’m gonna beat the fuck outta you,” Jungkook warns with a menacing chuckle.

Although Taehyung isn’t bothered by it, he fakes being frightened, “Oooohh, scary! Don’t hit me daddy!”

“Yep, that’s it.” Jungkook places the bowl down on the couch before abruptly standing up. Taehyung runs away while laughing like a madman with Jungkook following behind him. His roommate ends up locking himself inside his room where Jungkook can’t come in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He says in the middle of laughter.

“You’re fucking hideous, you know that?” Jungkook crosses his arms.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Jeon.”

When Jungkook turned nineteen, he remembered asking his mother when a man should introduce his girlfriend to his parents.

His mother, heart filled with genuine compassion, replied with; “When you are fully committed, and when you know for a fact that you will be spending the rest of your life with her – that’s when you let her eat at our table. So be very mindful of your feelings, Jungkookie. Remember this when you grow up, alright? I know you didn’t believe in long-lasting love when you were younger, but trust me when I say that it truly depends on the person.”

It was clear that Jungkook’s romantic side definitely came from his parents.

And fast-forward to the present, here you are sitting at their dining table, meeting his parents for the very first time. 

“So, Y/n,” Jungkook’s mother beams from the other side of the table while passing her husband more rice for his bibimbap, “How did you and Jungkook meet?”

“Mom,” Jungkook chuckles, “Haven’t I told you that a hundred times already?”

You blush from his words, trying your best not to look down in shyness. Though you feel your boyfriend’s right hand rests on your knee to ease you up.

“I know! But I just want to hear it from Y/n’s point of view! Who knows, you might be hiding some details!”

Before you can speak, his dad talks before you, “I was actually there at the time,” he smiles at you, “I think you should thank me for making Jungkook talk to you!”

“Hun, please let Y/n talk—”

Jungkook grins, “I think I would’ve talked to Y/n whether or not you told me so, dad.”

“Let the girl talk!” his mom balls her hand into a fist and pounds on the table.       

You busted out a laugh, quickly covering your mouth as you shook your head in disbelief. You’ve never encountered such a fun, happy family like this. This was your first time being introduced to someone’s parents, and truthfully, you wanted them to be your last.

“So, um,” you take a glance at Jungkook before continuing as if asking for permission first. He smiles down at you and nods his head, feeling his hand squeeze your knee. “Jeon’s Kitchen was actually a favorite place of mine! And of course, it’s still is—” you beam at his father, “It was raining very hard so I decided to stop by to eat some food before work.”

“Brown coffee and banana bread, yep, I remember that!” His dad proudly says.

“That’s correct, Mr. Jeon,” you giggle, “I sat alone and waited for the order until Jungkook here suddenly bursts into the café, all drenched from the rain!” You turn your gaze at him with creased eyes from the way you were smiling as you talk, “If I remember correctly, his car broke down and he had nothing to do, so he decided to help Mr. Jeon with work, is that right?”

Jungkook responds with a hum, staring amusingly into your glimmering eyes that were full of love.

“Until Mr. Jeon told Jungkook to keep me company! So yeah, that’s where we started talking.”

Of course, you had to leave out the fact that you had such an intimidating first impression of their son. You recall how hard his stare was as he talked to you, and how he literally made you blush so easily just by his handsome smirk (that until now you couldn’t get used to!). He carried such a strong aura, even up to this day.

“After that, well, we exchanged numbers and everything went from there!”

Before Jungkook drove you to his parent’s house so that they can finally meet you, you were an absolute nervous wreck. Overthinking that what if you say something embarrassing? What if you humiliate yourself in front of them? You were driven to have a good impression on them, which Jungkook founded adorable. Of course, he reassured you, saying, “They already love you from all of the stories I’ve told, baby.”  

And he was right. His parents never would’ve thought that a girl like you would walk into his life. You’re a blessing for their son.

Jungkook doesn’t sway his eyes off of you as you continue to chat with his parents, telling them your goals and dreams for the future. He watches the way your mouth tilts into the prettiest smile he’s ever seen, lips tinted with lipstick that was just begging to be kissed. He also catches the way your head slightly tilts as you talk, oh – he can’t forget how your knees were nervously jumping! With his hand slowly caressing your knee up to your thigh, he reminds you to calm down.

His breath hitches up a slight bit when you unexpectedly hold his hand under the table. He feels how cold your hand was so it was good for you to take his own warmth. Using his thumb, he strokes your skin delicately, and you instantly feel much better.

When the time is right and when he garners enough money, he will buy a house for the two of you. It doesn’t have to be fancy or anything elegant, but enough to keep you happy and contented – he knows you’ll understand that. Needless to say, he’s excited about the future he’s going to have with you. His mind wanders to the point of your first anniversary, the second anniversary, even up until marriage and having kids. It’s a huge stretch, yes, but he’d rather spend his life alone than without you. 

If his past self can read his mind right now, he’d definitely laugh.

He can’t wait to live his whole life with you by his side. You already have all the qualities he’s been looking in a person, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to leave you anytime soon. 

His mother’s voice cracks him from his thoughts, “Y/n’s such a pretty girl. So amusing to look at, too!” She gawks at you with excited, wide eyes. Her eyes reminded you of Jungkook, the same big and round ones, “Next time when you come to visit us, let me teach you my signature shrimp fried rice recipe, okay? Are you allergic to shrimp, Y/n?”

“Nope! I love shrimp!”

“That’s great!” his mom claps, “Jungkook, thanks for bringing Y/n here with us. She’s so wonderful.”

Shaking your head, you try to take her compliments as much as you can but of course, your bashfulness takes over.

Your boyfriend removes his hand from yours, only lifts it up so that his arm can rest at the backrest of the chair while he starts to stroke your head lovingly. The corners of his lips tilts up to form a smile, he feels as if fireworks were going off of his whole body, for he was so in love with you. How can a person love someone this much? 

He mutters the next sentence underneath his breath, thus only he and his pounding heart can hear; “That’s my girl.”

The End.

Thank you so much for all of the amazing support for Crybaby! I never expected so much love and anticipation in the first place. I wrote Crybaby without any serious plot with a ‘tragedy/problem’ in mind, for it was only supposed to be a oneshot haha! Crybaby was mainly about the fact that Jungkook has dacryphilia and that’s it. But thanks to the support I’ve gotten, I made a part two and three! It’s sorta sad to end this series because I know a lot of people (including me) love this couple soo much! But they’ll make an appearance in short drabbles or even kinky hours. I’m sorry for the sudden ending, but this will not be the end for them!

Please tell me what you think by commenting or sending an ask, I really love to read your reactions!

Please stay safe, especially in these times. Remember that you are loved, and please be happy. I love you!

#jungkook smut #dom jungkook #btsbookclub #btsguild #btswriterscollective #bangtansmutcentral #jungkook hot #jungkook daddy

[rattyoakenbitch]

youtubers: “don’t touch her” ₊˚ ⸝  corpse husband x reader

❝i don't wanna think about, think about you. drink up, drink up i'm so fucked up, all i want is you.❞

gif credit: n/a song: lykke li - sex money feelings die

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

pairings: corpse husband x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, drinking, smoking, violent language, and minor mentions of anxiety.

summary: i can’t make summaries rn hhh just read it (:

“Sean, there is no way in hell I’m going!”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun!”

“That’s what you always say!”

“Ugh, you and Corpse are so stubborn. At least I was able to convince him to show up! You know what you need? To get out of the house more often and come hang with us.”

“Uh huh, yeah, y’all have fun, I got some stuff to finish.”

“Yeah? Like what? Your ten hour nap?”

“HEY! Excuse me -”

“7PM, [club address], you’re showing up.”

“Sean - !”

With that, Sean hung up. You let out an exasperated huff, crossing your arms and pouting like a toddler who was just denied a toy. You were invited, or more accurrately forced to celebrate whatever the hell Sean and his friends achieved. With lives like theirs, it seemed like there was always something to celebrate. 

You, on the other hand.. Well, you were just little old you. You met Sean by mere chance. It’s a very long story, but you shared some things in common, like your love for video games. However, that was about the only thing you could relate to with Sean and his little friend circle. You were more passionate about writing, as well as reading short horror stories. 

Now, that’s where you clicked with Corpse Husband. 

He was an underrated YouTuber, whose main uploads were narration videos on creepypastas and horror stories. That’s until he blew up with his Among Us gameplays, collaborating with big names like PewDiePie, Jacksepticeye, and CrankGamePlays (EEF!!!).

You met over an Among Us stream with said YouTubers and immediately hit it off. You shared a dark sense of humor, love for horror, and music. You knew of Corpse before, but only then did you discover that he produced music, which you absolutely enjoyed (and blasted in your house for days on end).

When you found out you lived not even twenty minutes away from each other, you’d occasionally meet up, mostly at his house considering he only went out once in a blue moon. You’d sometimes even spend the night at his place, staying up late, gazing up at the stars, getting deep into conversation and opening up about things you never blurted out to people. But when you were with Corpse, everything just came naturally. You felt safe with him, and hopefully, he felt the same. 

Night approached, the clock striking 5PM. You figured you’d get ready since Sean was dead set on you coming to the party. You showered, did a minimalist glossy makeup look, and chose an outfit, which consisted of a half neon green and black skirt that stopped mid thigh, and an oversized distressed band tee which you tucked into your belt. You slipped on a pair of ripped, striped thigh-highs with mismatched colors, (white stripes on one and neon blue on the other), and your platform boots that made you look like a Bratz Doll. You didn’t bother with your tangled hair. You teased it with a brush but didn’t put any effort into styling it, since it’d get messy anyways. To finish your look, you clipped on a choker and dangled a couple of layered chains around your neck.

Corpse would tease you, saying you had a “dog collar”, but you knew he secretly liked it.

All dolled up and ready to go, you hopped into your car and followed the GPS to the address Sean sent you. Drunk couples stumbled out of the club, dates headed inside, and old wasted guys were thrown out. Oh boy, you were not ready for this.

You were the anxious, anti social type. Not because it was edgy or cool, but you simply didn’t know how to handle social situations. However, it comforted you to know Corpse would be there by your side so you didn’t need to chat and flirt with strangers. 

It’s not like you wanted to meet anybody new, anyways. Though nobody was aware of it, you had feelings for Corpse. Cliche, right? You knew you shouldn’t have, but you developed feelings for him. It made you feel strange and weird, considering you haven’t caught feelings in a while.

You came up with the bright idea of slowly drifting away from Corpse to maybe help de-escalate these feelings, but you were going to run into him at the club, so what the heck.

You headed inside, your eyes scanning the crowd and pushing through, searching for your friend group. You spent a couple minutes cluelessly looking around the club, but to no avail. Then, it was as if a light bulb clicked on over your head; you never thought to phone Sean.

“Ugh, I’m so stupid.” You reached into your purse to get ahold of your phone when a pair of strong, manly hands and cold metal which you assumed to be rings wrapped around your shoulders, gripping you tightly. 

“Boo!” 

You felt your heart stop and ran out of the man’s grasp, spinning around to look at who it was.

“Oh, did I scare you?” 

The man’s deep, monotone voice rumbled above the sound of the music and shouts. Then you recognized that unique and distinctive voice. 

“Corpse!! What the hell?”

His nose and jaw was covered by a black mask, with a print that looked like Frank from Donnie Darko, which was also Corpse’s signature look, seen in his channel art. 

Despite Corpse being a faceless YouTuber, only very few people have seen his face, including you and Glam&Gore who he featured in his narration videos. You thought he was very handsome, his baritone voice matching his appearance. You had to admit, you were a little disappointed he chose to wear a mask. You loved seeing his facial expressions, especially his precious smile that would light up the room when he’d let out little fits of laughter. But you got over it and respected the fact that he wanted to remain anonymous.

“You dickhead,” you scoffed, smacking Corpse lightly on the shoulder. Corpse towered over you, looking admittedly both intimidating and seductive. If you were a stranger, you’d probably be running off, but you weren’t scared of Corpse. He was a big softie and a teddy bear.

Corpse chuckled lowly, slinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you to Sean’s group. He was protective like that, even if you were just friends. Now you could see why Sean, at one point, speculated that you and Corpse had a thing going on. 

“So, Sean forced you to tag along, too?”

“Pfft, yeah, that’s Sean for you.”

“Hey, there’s my favorite couple,” Sean joked, patting your shoulder. You rolled your eyes at his drunk antics.

“Shut up, don’t make me choke you like I hate you,” you mocked in return, eliciting a fit of laughter from the group. 

“Remind me to never hang out with you losers again,” Corpse mumbled sarcastically under his breath.

The night went by in a flash. Sean, Thomas, Felix, and everyone else was blackout drunk. Luckily, Mark was there to assist them. Since Mark couldn’t drink, he would be the designated driver that night. Corpse hung out by himself, sometimes getting approached by women who he politely turned down.

You, on the other hand, were downing alcohol like your life depended on it. For you, it would take more than the average number of drinks for you to get wasted.

“Y/N, don’t you think you should slow down?” Corpse questioned cautiously, resting a hand on the small of your back.

“Does it really look like I’m thinking right now?” you drunkenly slurred, following with a giggle. You waved to the bartender, calling for another shot, which he slid over to you, but not without hesitating after noticing your state. You pushed Corpse off of you, probably more harshly than you intended, and took the shot. 

“Okay, Y/N, fuck this, I’m taking you to my place. We can’t stay here and you certainly can’t drive back home when you’re drunk,” Corpse scowled, stepping closer to you. Again, you shoved him back.

“No.. No..” You sighed, holding your pounding head in your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Y/N, you’re drunk -”

“I’m not letting you of all people take me.”

Corpse blinked. “What does that mean?” He knew you were drunk, of course, and you were probably just blurting nonsense.

All of a sudden, tears escaped your eyes, racing down your blushy cheeks.

“No.. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” You began to shake and tremble as tears started to uncontrollably spill down your face. Corpse didn’t waste another second to take you in his arms, hushing you. “Your hugs are so warm.. I hate it. I hate feeling this way. It’s all my fault.”

“What did you do, sweetheart? You can tell me.”

Your heart ached when you heard his pet name for you.

“I think I may like you more than you like me.. I-I didn’t mean to! Please don’t leave me. You’re all I have,” you sobbed into his white tee, clinging onto him. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts. I shouldn’t have!”

Corpse stopped for a moment, processing your words.

You.. felt the same?

Corpse had to tell you. You were drunk, but he needed you to know. 

“Y/N, I -”

Suddenly, you had a moment of clarity. Realizing how close you were to Corpse, you backed away, wiping away the mascara tears under your eyes.

“I - I think I had too much to drink.. I just need a smoke..” 

Without giving Corpse the chance to protest, you ran off into the crowd, struggling your way through. 

Corpse began to get worried when you didn’t come back. He waited impatiently on the barstool where you left him, anxiously playing with his rings.

He was just about to get up and look for you, when he caught a glimpse of you stumbling out the exit with another man who guided you, gripping your arm tightly.

Corpse fumed, his face going red and heartbeat speeding up. He went after you, knowing damn well you didn’t know this man. 

The man took you to his car, placing you atop the trunk, your legs dangling over the edge. He stepped in between your legs, caressing your face. Everything was a blur. If your mind was clear, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust this random guy, who was probably ten years older than you. 

“You’re too pretty to be crying,” he whispered, leaning in closer to your face, until a yell stopped him from proceeding any further.

“Hey, asshole, she’s drunk! Don’t you fucking touch her!”

“C-Corpse?” You hiccuped, hopping off the trunk to get a look at the approaching figure. It was indeed Corpse. His eyebrows were pressed together angrily at the sight.

“You know this dude?” the man said loudly and smugly, just to get a reaction from Corpse. “Relax, my man, I’m just tryna take this pretty girl home.”

“Well this pretty girl happens to be mine, and I won’t let you take advantage of her,” Corpse growled. 

You stood by the stranger, clinging to him as you watched Corpse’s face twist into an expression of heartbreak when you didn’t budge. He then noticed the bruises around your arms and wrist, supposedly from the man’s strong grip. He was unbelievably furious. 

“Ha, doesn’t look like she’s your girl anymore.” The man’s lips twisted upwards into a devilish smirk, only pissing Corpse off some more. Oh boy, was he ready to snap. He reached into his pocket, when..

“Wait,” you managed to slur out, breaking up the argument. You reached out towards Corpse like a child. His facial expression immediately softened. He gave you a loving smile and immediately took you into his arms, holding you protectively. 

“Now, I suggest you get in your car and never come back,” Corpse threatened.

“Oh, yeah? Or what? I’ll kill you and take your girl, you motherfucker!”

Without hesitation, Corpse took out his switchblade, looking the man in his eyes.

“Say that again?”

You watched as the stranger’s whole tough act fell apart. Without another word, he ran to the driver’s side of his car, fumbling with his keys. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Corpse mumbled, not taking his eyes off the man until he reached his own car. You held his hand the whole way, processing what had just happened. Corpse noticed your distant expression. You got into his car, shutting the door and slumping back into your seat. He tore off his mask, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. Then he looked back to you. 

“Princess?”

You looked to Corpse, your eyes teary. “Hey, Corpse.” You didn’t seem to be as drunk, your mind a lot clearer after the incident. “D-Did you mean anything you said back there? About the..”

“About you being my girl?” 

Corpse took your hand in his, squeezing it comfortingly. He leaned forward and cupped your face with his free hand. “Absolutely.” 

With that, you leaned towards him, hesitantly pressing your lips to his. Your lips tasted of alcohol, but Corpse didn’t care. He was admittedly taken back, his breath hitching, but he released the tension from his body and kissed you back, pulling you over to the driver’s seat atop him. There wasn’t much space, forcing you to press closer to Corpse, deepening the kiss. 

Still being a bit drunk, you were clumsy and kind of ‘out of it’. 

“I’d hold onto something if I were you,” Corpse mumbled, breaking the kiss momentarily to guide your hands to grip his shoulders. But you were impatient and reconnected your lips with his, no doubt causing him to blush even more than he already was.

You couldn’t help yourself and giggled into the kiss, causing Corpse to chuckle along with you, departing from the kiss again and resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking adorable when you giggle.” 

You hummed in response, offering Corpse an innocent grin as you pecked all over his face. 

“I’m so glad you’re mine.”

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x female reader #corpse x female reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband oneshot #jacksepticeye #markiplier #crankgameplays #sykkuno #youtube #youtubers #among us #rattyoakenbitch #pewdiepie #aesthetic gif #lykke li #tw: drunk #tw: drinking #tw: alcohol #tw: smoking #tw: violence #tw: anxious thoughts #tw: anxiety

[marvelous-imagines]

His girl

Johnny Lawrence x kreese's daughter reader

Request:I love this! But like what about an imagine where the reader is kreese's daughter and a total badass (excuse my language please) and Johnny falls hard.... Maybe.... Please 🥺

Warnings: mild language. Fluff

@farewell-to-all

The sound of hard rock music blared from the speakers in the auto shop, well the garage, but you liked to call it your auto shop. It's a place you come and unwind, de-stressing by cleaning and tweaking a bit on your beat up 1967 chevrolet camaro, it's red paint chipping off a bit, black two lines racing down the hood of it. While you was distracted by washing the car you loved dearly, you didn't even notice your father walking inside the garage and turning your music off. You look up and can't help the little scowl that etched itself on your face.

"what the hell are you doing? Blasting that garbage loudly" he spoke with annoyance, eye's glued to you. You turn away from him and focus back on cleaning the camaro.

"well, I was cleaning my car while listening to music, but obviously you had to ruin that" you muttered with attitude, making your father angry.

"why don't you take a break from this stupid car and destroying your hearing with that damned music and train some with me in the dojo? God knows you need it" he looks you up and down, eye's flickering over your tiny muscles and weak looking self.

"are you implying I can't take care of myself now?" you ask him, throwing the cloth you held down and standing up, glaring at him.

"I'm implying that you need to learn more about you're own self defense, just looking at you makes me feel pathetic" he said, and even though he didn't intend it to sound insulting you scoff and shake your head.

"why don't you go back to you're dojo and prance around" you spat out, picking the rag back up and wiping the car down. Your father let's out a sigh and heads toward the exit, but stops to turn around towards you.

"you will always be my little girl y/n, I'm just trying to look out for you" you look over your shoulder at him.

"yeah? Well I'm capable of protecting myself, you've done taught me everything I need to know about self defense" you grumbled, he nods and walks out. You sigh and look at the red and black car with a little frown. Maybe you should show up at the cobra Kai dojo one day, surprise your father. You was growing a bit rusty with swift kicks and blocking....

The corner stores neon lights light up the darkness of the street. The moon out as the sun had descended the sky hours ago. Shutting your camaro off you step out of the car and head into the store, in search of snack foods and soda, tonight's planned dinner. Walking into the store you walk around, scanning the isles for whatever catches your eye's. But then you heard loud chatter among a group of people, when you take a peek like the curious person you are at the people you see a small group of guys, all wearing red jackets. You soon realize that it's cobra Kai jackets.

"hey beautiful, you look like you could really use a few drinks, wanna come along to a party with me and my friends?" you look away from the group of guys and see dark haired man standing beside you. Giving the stranger a unimpressed look you shake your head.

"I'm gonna pass, but thinks for the weird offer" you say and take a bag of chips off the shelf along with some bread.

"oh c'mon gorgeous, it'll be fun" he pushed, following you through the store. You take a six-pack of soda of another shelf and head for the checkout.

"listen pal. I said no, so leave me alone before I make you" you threatened, that caught the attention of the cobra Kai group. Placing the stuff in your arms down you watch the cashier scan them. But much to your dismay the stranger wouldn't leave....

"oh yeah? What's a small little girl like you gonna do?" he goes to grab your arm but you grab his hand and twist his rest, swiftly kicking his legs out from under him, causing him to fall on his knees where you then kick his chest.

"that" was all you said as you throw cash on the counter and grab your stuff and leave. But a certain someone followed you.

"hey! Wait up" you sling the bags into the passenger seat and lean on the car, watching the blonde man approaching, stopping in front of you with a impressed smile.

"that was awesome what you did back there, I was going to kick that guys ass for you but... It looks like you can handle you're own just fine" he said, blue eye's on you, but then look at the car behind you, "67 camaro, nice" he muttered with a grin.

"what did you want? Not to be rude or anything but I have dinner to make" you crossed your arms and look at the handsome man, although you didn't know him he had caused your heart to skip a beat, with those gorgeous blue eye's and soft face, you found it infuriating how gorgeous he really was.

"I originally wanted to say that you left your soda, but now I wanna look at this car" he points at the car with a smile, eye's alight with joy. You sigh and let a small smile etch its way on your face.

"take a look if you want, just don't try and steal it or anything" you joke while popping the hood open, letting him see inside. He chuckles while walking around to see the beauty of the motor.

"after what I saw in there, I don't think I have the balls to try and steal it" he joked right back, making you giggle.

"I'm y/n by the way" you outstretched your hand awaiting a handshake. He shakes your hand with a smile.

"johnny" he introduced as he then watches how you point out the cars original parts and the ones that you had put in yourself.

It was that night Johnny had started developing feelings for you. But the night he knew he was in love with you... That was a night he wouldn't forget.

Seated on the hood of your car, parked on a old barely used road, you and Johnny look over the city, eating candy as the radio played some rock song. After knowing Johnny for a few months you and him became close friends, he really dug your 'I don't give a shit' personality along with how tough you truly were. Needless to say, Johnny was smitten unbeknownst to you. That's how you found yourself here, head leaning on his shoulder as you was Laughing at Johnny's story he was telling you, about how he tried buying beer by flirting with the middle aged cashier lady.

"there is no way you actually thought that'd work!" you laugh, taking a sip of your drink as he chuckles. Arm wrapped around you.

"it's worked before I thought it would work again! No need to laugh at me" he says with a wide grin, sipping from his beer he managed to get.

"you're such a dork sometimes" you say, laughing lightly. Johnny hums a little in amusement.

"I'm not a dork" he defended himself with a teasing smile, looking down at you.

"says the man who thought a 50 year old woman would sell him beer just because he complemented her hair" you boop his nose making him scrunch it up and turn his head.

Just then a bunch of other teens pull up on the beautiful sight, loud music blaring from their car. You roll yours eyes and feel Johnny's hold on you tighten. The protective gesture warming your heart, even though you both knew you could handle your own well enough.

"looks like a couple of love-birds stole our spot guys" a man spoke up, his voice already pissing you off. Johnny could tell and throws the teens a glare.

"knock it off man, we were hear first" he tossed his beer bottle aside and keeps a eye on the jerks.

"oh yeah? We don't care, now beat it before you regret it losers!" a girl said from the girl, laughing along with the other man and girl in the car. Johnny jumps down from the hood of your camaro and looks them up and down.

"I Think you'll be the ones to regret it if you don't take you're pansy ass's down the road" johnny threatens. You stand beside him and watch how the man who spoke before gets out of the car along with the other one, the two girls staying put.

"shit, what are you doing do about it blondie? Braid our hair?" they laugh, but you felt anger boiling up within you at the goons.

"he's gonna break you're nose, or maybe I will" you growl at the men, making them burst out laughing. Johnny tenses his jaw, fists clenched. You could feel anger rolling off him. But you place a hand on his shoulder calming him down somewhat.

"like you could even throw a punch!" they laughed, really testing your patience. "you're nothing but a -

"a what?! Uh? " johnny seethes, blue eye's fixated a hard gaze on them.

"a little bitch" and that was all it took to have you pounce, shoving passed Johnny and using all the lessons and training your father taught you, kicking, punching and dodging like a professional. Your movements was fast, swift. You didn't even realize it but Johnny was stood frozen in his place, heart pounding, eye's glued to you absolutely kicking those men's ass. He knew he should have helped you, but he couldn't, he was hypnotized by you, how gorgeous you looked, how absolutely sexy it was with how you showed these jerks no mercy....

When the fight was over with the men left in a hurry, faces bruised and swollen, noses bleeding. You smirk and turn around to see Johnny in a trance, his eyes on you as his lips was parted in amazement.

"that was... Wow...." he muttered, causing you to laugh at him, patting him on the shoulder.

"I'm obliged to have you staring at my ass the whole time Lawrence" you say, making him blush and began to stutter. "now I do believe we have a whole bag of chocolates to finish" you say hoping back up onto the hood of the car, eye's watching Johnny with amusement.

"I wasn't staring at you're ass!" he tried to explain but you laugh and shake your head at him. He hops up beside you and watched you open a chocolate bar and take a bite, offering him a bite from yours he indulges. His eyes unable to leave you.

"you have chocolate on your face" you giggle at him, when he goes to wipe it off he completely missed, so you take your thump and wipe it off the corner of his lips, pausing for a moment to take in how close your faces were, his blue eye's locked on your own y/e/c one's. You lean in closer, his breath fanning over your face as you feel his nose slightly bump yours.

He was the one that closed the distance between you, his soft lips moving against yours in a frantic passionate way, his hand instantly on the back of your neck pulling you closer to him, causing you to let out a little sound of surprise into the kiss. Smiling as you placed a hand on his chest, but your lungs longed for air, forcing him to pull away and smile down at you. You felt a flutter in your heart at the way he looked at you in that moment, with such love and affection, a sparkle you'd never forget...

Although Johnny knew that was when he fell in love with you, you knew he had feelings for you at the beginning.

Standing in your father's dojo you practiced moves on a dummy, practicing more so on your kicks, roundhousing and trying to practice getting your legs up higher with each brutal kick you landed. Watching from Afar was Johnny and his friends. Watching how your father teaches you different techniques. Johnny let's a little grin spread across his face, eye's glued to you.

"she's hot, look at how powerful those kicks are" Tommy said, making Johnny smack his arm.

"that's my girl, shut up" he said, eye's never leaving you.

"God her thighs are so freaking toned!" another said. But luckily Johnny didn't hear, to caught up in how you landed one final kick, earning criticism from your father. He stormed off and you looked over at Johnny and wink.

He was absolutely smitten with you. Even though you was kreese's daughter you and you was both dating in semi secret, he couldn't take his eyes off you. He fell hard for you...

A/n: here it is! I hope you like darling! Sorry if it took a bit long to write, and I apologize if it's not good👉👈🥺

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #Johnny Lawrence imagine #william zabka #cobra kai #the karate kid #daniel larusso

[isabelinlove]

Title: Love in the Year 3000

Word Count: 713

Summary: Isabel and the Doctor ring in the new year. Well, a new year.

The year: 3000. Well, half an hour from 3000 to be exact. Isabel and the Doctor had found themselves at a New Year’s Eve party nearly a thousand years in the future and a billion miles from earth, orbiting the planet Llezephus in a leisure ship designed specifically for grand celebrations. Music was blasting, drinks were flowing, and the atmosphere was filled with excitement and anticipation. After all, it wasn’t every night that one got to ring in the dawn of a new millennium. The ship was appropriately decorated for the event, with tinsel lining the walls and hundreds of shiny silver stars hanging from the ceiling, and a number of unusual guests roamed the room. At one table, several women with very tall, eccentric hairstyles gossiped, and at another, a group of gelatinous orange aliens were playing poker. The crowd was so diverse and unusual that Isabel hardly felt out of place, despite the fact that she was, by all means, a stranger in a strange land.

Across from her at the bar, the Doctor was conversing in his usual charming manner with a group of purple aliens with tentacles. His face lit up and his arms moved wildly as he spoke, and they seemed very engaged in what he had to say. Isabel smiled to herself as she watched him. She had always admired how he could become friends with anyone he talked to. Being much more reserved than him, she had never possessed that skill herself. Partway through the conversation, he noticed her looking at him and shot her a grin and a wink. She smiled back and gave him a little wave, hoping he didn’t notice how much she was blushing. Even though they had been together for quite some time, he was still too damn good at flustering her.

As the Doctor continued his conversation, Isabel turned her attention to the window in front of her table. The atmosphere of Llezephus swirled wispy green as the ship orbited slowly by, and the stars seemed to shine more brightly than usual. It was odd; here she was, on a New Year’s Eve just like any other, with living beings not unlike her friends back home, but so far away from anything she had ever experienced before. It was so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time.

A hand on Isabel’s shoulder quickly brought her out of her reverie.

“What are you thinking about?” the Doctor asked, smiling down at her.

“Oh, nothing. Just how strange this all is,” she said, turning to look up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, here I am, ringing in a year that I wouldn’t have ever seen in my lifetime. I’d have been dead and buried for nearly a thousand years. But now I get to experience it just like anyone else at this party. It’s just… crazy.”

“Are you alright?” the Doctor asked, looking at her with concern. “I know this can all be a bit… much sometimes… and I really wanted you to have fun tonight, I didn’t mean to send you into an existential crisis… you know, if you want to go home, we can leave right now-” he started to ramble.

“Doctor.” she said sternly, cutting him off. He looked at her with wide eyes. “I’m fine. More than fine, as a matter of fact. I love traveling with you. You’ve given me everything I could ever want and more. I can’t imagine how boring my life would have been without you.”

“Oh. Well, erm, that’s good to hear,” he replied, beginning to blush.

“Trust me, Doctor. I can handle it. The weirdness, the craziness, even the occasional existential crisis. I promise. It’s all worth it. Especially if I get to be with you.” That made him blush even harder. All of a sudden, the clock began to chime. It was almost midnight.

“Well, shall we?” the Doctor asked with a grin.

“Absolutely,” she replied.

They counted down the seconds with the rest of the crowd. When the clock struck midnight, Isabel pulled the Doctor down by the tie and kissed him passionately.

“Happy New Year, Doctor,” she said, looking up at him with a smirk.

“Happy New Year, Isabel,” he replied before kissing her back.

#❤️: written in the stars #my writing

[aellynera]

Accidental Anniversary (Llewyn Davis x Reader)

ACCIDENTAL ANNIVERSARY

💜💘 Happy Valentine’s Fic Exchange, @samrockweil​ 💘💜

I am your Valentine’s elf (or maybe cupid?) It was an absolute blast writing this for you!! At first I couldn’t decide which guy to write for, but Llewyn spoke to me and I ran with it and I hope you love it even half as half as much as I did writing it. Happy reading and happy beeps!

Also, huge thanks to @sergeantkane​ for putting this fic exchange together! Love you Clarke!

Word Count: around 8k oops look i had a whole MONTH okay i’m not sorry

Summary: You meet Llewyn Davis one night at the Gaslight, and soon find out that the universe has an odd sense of humor and an even weirder sense of timing.

Warnings: A few curses. Nothing else, it’s 99.999999999% fluffy fluff.

March 14

The air inside the Gaslight is thick with smoke that coils and kinks around the dim lights on the walls and the candles on the tables. Someone at the end of the bar calls out for a whiskey, which you pour and pass down. The sound system shrieks with feedback for three painful seconds as your boss flips the power on.

You’ve been working there for a couple weeks, a side job to help make your rent and keep you busy on the weekends. It’s not a terrible gig, most of the time; the patrons are pleasant enough, the performers hit or miss, and Pappi, your boss, is okayish, so long as you can mostly steer clear of him.

You begin to wipe down part of the bar while the next performer sets up on the small, dingy stage. You haven’t seen him before, but whispers from the stools at the counter hint he’s semi-popular around these parts. You quirk an eyebrow; he certainly is easy on the eyes, at least.

From the minute he takes the stage, your focus is ninety percent on him (you do need a little brain power to do your job, after all) and you find that he is also very easy on the ears. Dark curls, dark beard, dark eyes, dark clothes, but a surprisingly bright voice singing lovely songs. He finishes his set, comes off the stage, and sidles up to the bar. You hand him the requested bourbon with a soft smile.

And the next thing you know, Pappi is on the ground and this stranger is holding his hand, wincing, flexing his fingers. Your mouth drops open.

“Oh my god!” you cry. “What--”

“Jesus Christ, Llewyn,” Pappi groans from the floor. “I was only kidding.”

“Yeah, doubt that,” this Llewyn person mutters under his breath, taking a seat on the stool closest to him. “Can I bother you for some ice?”

You keep a wary eye on him, and on Pappi as he gets up and wanders to the other side of the room like nothing happened, and wrap some ice cubes in a towel and hand it to him. “You decked him.”

He scoffs and takes a sip of his drink. “You hear what he said about you?”

Well, no, you hadn’t actually, but having heard what Pappi has said about others in the club over the past two weeks, you can imagine. “I can handle him,” you say archly.

“I’m sure you can,” a huff of air escapes his lips, “but you shouldn’t have to.” He turns around to look at Pappi, who just glares and shakes his head. The man in front of you flips your boss off.

You refill his glass without him asking and stick out your hand, telling him your name.

He shakes it and says, “Llewyn Davis” with a sheepish smile.

April 14

Llewyn shuffles down the sidewalk towards the Gaslight, really only noticing the early spring chill that hangs in the air. It’s early, before noon, but he wants to run through his set before the night’s performance and the early hour is convenient for him to be able to do so in peace.

He’s about a block away when a sound distracts him. A voice is singing, pure and sweet - if a tiny bit off-key - and if he didn’t know any better - and he certainly does, at least most times - he would call it angelic. No, not angelic. An actual angel. That’s what it sounds like.

Llewyn stops and looks up at an open window on the third floor. He can make out the vague outline of a figure inside, but he’s unable to see any details. But that voice. A few minutes pass as he just listens, staring up at the window, thinking about calling up to get the attention of the mysterious singer. But he doesn’t, and he just stands and listens, until he finds his feet starting to carry him on to his usual destination. 

Three steps into his walk, he realizes he knows the song. It’s one of his songs. Part of him can’t believe it, and the rest of him wants to offer pitch correction. Three more steps into his walk, and his face makes very solid, very resounding contact with the light pole on the corner.

“God dammit,” he shouts.

A few seconds later, the window on the third floor slides open and a head pokes out. “Oh my god. Llewyn?”

Llewyn looks up and groans inwardly as he recognizes your face from that last gig at the Gaslight. “Hey,” he waves awkwardly, leaning on the pole.

“Are you bleeding?” you call down to him.

He reaches up near his eyebrow and realizes he is, in fact, bleeding. Quite a bit, honestly. Before he can answer, you call back down, “Come up the fire escape to the side window!” The window drops shut and he can hear another slide open.

So Llewyn Davis climbs the fire escape steps and meets you at your side window, a first aid kit in your hands as you motion for him to sit. He does and you start to patch up his wound.

“You should be more careful,” you mutter as you worked, stopping briefly to look him right in the eyes.

He holds your gaze. “Sorry, I was...distracted.”

“Mmm,” you return. You fold a gauze pad and hand it to him. “Hold this on that cut. I’m going to get you some ice.” You turn to walk to your kitchen.

He mumbles his thanks and leans his head back against the fire escape railing.

May 14

You glance back behind the bar, making sure the bottles are stocked and the glasses are ready. Another night at the Gaslight is about to start, and although Llewyn isn’t playing tonight, he takes up a spot at the end of the bar and thanks you as you pass him a drink.

“How have you been?” you ask. You’d seen him a few times over the past couple weeks, here and there in the Village, but it’s been several days. You found Llewyn’s company quite enjoyable. You’d talked a bit and even shared lunch once at the diner a couple blocks away.

His lips turn up, a shy smile lighting his face. He opens his mouth to respond, when another voice breaks in.

“He’s been an asshole.”

Llewyn’s head ships around and you follow his gaze. A slender woman with long, straight brown hair and piercing eyes stands about ten feet behind him, arms crossed and glaring. Neither of them says anything for a beat, Llewyn turns away from her, and then she’s on him, daggers flying from her lips, going on and on about assholes and responsibility and electrical tape.

Llewyn keeps his eyes down, the bottom of his glass suddenly staring back at him. “Jesus Christ, Jean.”

You bite your lip as you glance between them. You have no idea who this woman - this Jean - is, but it’s clear she is not a fan of Llewyn Davis. In three seconds flat you decide you do not like her either.

“Is there something you needed?” you break in.

Her eyes flare at Llewyn, then at you, then bore into the back of Llewyn’s head. You resist the urge to literally toss a glass of whiskey in her direction.

“I need Llewyn to stop being an asshole,” she seethes. Llewyn rolls his eyes.

You arch an eyebrow and the words are on your tongue - I need you to back off, you crazy weird bit-- you bite your tongue just hard enough to make your mouth behave. Fortunately, she’s distracted by someone else calling her name and her attention drifts to the stage. With a final mutter of “asshole” and a rude hand gesture, she flounces off.

You point over Llewyn’s shoulder. “Um, what was that?”

He snorts. “A night of bad decisions and a lifetime of regret.” A pause. “It’s...a long story.”

You watch as she adjusts the microphone center stage. “Good lord, is she a singer? Tell me she’s not going to just smile and sing after...whatever that was.”

“Yeah. Well,” he offers by way of explanation and doesn’t say anything else. It’s almost like this woman sucked all the fight out of him and you feel your heart give a little twinge.

You toss the rag in the sink and take his glass. “Do you wanna get out of here?” The air around you has a weird vibe now, and you felt a sudden impulse to get out and take this man - your friend - with you, away from this...whatever she was, somewhere safe.

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, a grateful glimmer passing through his dark eyes.

“There’s a great cafe down the block.”

“But don’t you have to...you know...work?”

You look around and shrug. “It’s dead in here, and Bobby can handle it,” you hook your thumb at a co-worker behind the bar. “And if Pappi says anything, I know someone who can set him straight.”

Llewyn’s eyes glint and his lips turn up in a real, honest smile this time. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee.”

June 14

The summer - or very last days of spring, technically - is starting to get hot and your open windows are doing the bare minimum to alleviate the warmth. Of course, the third glass of wine you’re drinking probably isn’t helping things either.

Whatever. It’s your day off.

Shoes kicked off, jeans rolled up above your ankles, feet up on the arm of the couch, a record on the turntable and your glass of red as the dusk slowly melts into dark. The night is tranquil and relaxing and perfect. It has been a shitty week, and all you want is to ignore the outside world and do exactly this.

The shrill ring of your phone bursts that bubble..

You close your eyes and tilt your head back on the couch. Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away. The phone stops ringing. Deciding to take no further chances, you switch off the ringer, completely, then sigh happily, settling yourself on the couch and sipping your wine.

Perfect.

A resounding, repeated thump echoes through the room. You bit back a shriek. Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away - lightning can strike twice, right? It was extremely rude of people to just call you and knock when all you wanted was--

“Hey, are you home?” a muffled voice comes from the other side of the door.

Suddenly alert and somehow much less annoyed, you spring up and cross to your front door. Yanking it open, you find a very disheveled Llewyn Davis on the other side. He doesn’t seem to notice right away that the door was now open, and you had to jump back as his hand, raised to pound on the door again, almost knocks you in the head instead.

You take a deep breath. You catch a waft like the mat under the taps after a long night at the bar.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

“Are you drunk?” You take him by the arm and drag him inside, appraising him quickly. His eyes are glassy, red-rimmed, his curls an absolute mess, and there’s a dark mark under his left eye and a split in his lip. He looks terrible, smells just as bad, but suddenly all your desire for a quiet, no-other-humans night evaporates. “And did you get in a fight?”

“...yes?”

You sigh and point to the couch. “Go. Sit. I’ll make some coffee, and then you’re getting a shower..”

“You’re incredible,” he slurs, smiling, “And you’re so…I tried t’call you, from th’phone on the corner but you dinnt answer. An’ then I realized, hey, I’m on your corner, so decided t’come up and see you. You’re pretty.”

You take him by the elbow and lead him to the couch, only stumbling twice and managing to catch him as he sways, precariously, once. “Uh huh,” you bite your lip to hide a smile. “Sounds like you’ve had a fun night. You wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.” He flops down on the couch and buries his face in a pillow.

By the time you make the promised pot of coffee and get back to the living room, Llewyn is snoring, still face down in the throw pillow. Turning off the music and the lights, you cover him with a blanket and take your glass of wine to your room.

July 14

Ring, ring, ring.

You’d remembered to turn the ringer back on three days after Llewyn slept it off on your couch, but your phone hadn’t actually rung again until just over half an hour ago, and honestly you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or if it was just sad.

You are sure, however, that the sheer desperation in the voice on the other end when you answered is the reason you’re on this train to Queens. Are you doing anything, Llewyn had asked, because I could really, really use some help right now. Please, I’m begging you. And now the echo of your phone ringing just, well, rings in your ears.

The train screeches to a halt and you exit, making your way to the given address. You knock on the door of a smallish, nondescript row house and it swings open almost immediately, revealing a very disheveled, slightly panicked looking Llewyn.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes and grabs you by the arm, dragging you inside.

“Llewyn? What is going on?”

“It’s a disaster,” he says. He’s completely serious.

You’re preparing yourself for blood, broken bones, water damage, collapsed ceilings, possible dismemberment, anything, really, that could explain your friend’s current frazzled condition. What you get is completely, unexpectedly, not anything like that.

There are about ten kids, all around ten years old, running around in the living room, which is also full of balloons and streamers. One giant pinata, shaped like a baseball glove and bat, hangs from the light fixture. To Llewyn’s credit, it is kind of...chaotic, but it’s far from a disaster and you can barely contain the guffaw that escapes your lungs.

“Whose birthday?” you grin at him.

He narrows his eyes at you. “It’s not funny.”

You consider this and try to straighten your lips. Nope, not working. “It’s a little funny.”

Llewyn smacks you lightly on the shoulder. “It’s my nephew’s birthday, and my sister forgot some party thing and made a run to the store. I was stayin’ here last night and she just decided, oh, Llewyn can watch the kids, and she was gone.”

“So what’s the problem, exactly?”

“She should be back by now,” his eyes look slightly panicked.

“Maybe she had to go to a couple stores? Maybe she just got delayed by transit?”

“I can’t do…” Llewyn gestures around weakly, shaking his head. “This.”

“Llewyn, they’re kids. They can’t be more than what, ten years old? Just blindfold them and let them whack at the pinata.”

“You’re the people person. I can’t...can you help me, please,” he turns to look at you. Directly at you. You’re fairly certain his eyes cannot get any bigger or shine more pleadingly.

“Fine,” you sigh. “Let’s go wrangle some kids.”

The panic slides from his face and to your surprise, he throws an arm over your shoulder and kisses the top of your head in his thanks.

And when one kid takes a wild swing at that tacky papier-mache sports equipment, misses completely, and lands a clean hit on Llewyn’s thigh, neither of you talk about it.

You just get him an ice pack.

August 14

“I’m making lasagna. Come over for dinner.”

You worked early that day, and said this to Llewyn as you left the Gaslight for the day. He isn’t playing tonight, and he’s really just here to stay out of the sun, and as much as he doesn’t like to push his luck with others’ hospitality, he has to admit that a home-cooked meal does sound incredible.

He has a feeling your invitation was partly due to Jean showing up, ready to do unnecessary verbal battle because she just can’t let it go, and you’d asked to both deflect her and keep yourself from actual physical battle. But whatever.

So he finds himself at your front door a couple hours later, a bottle of cheapish red wine in hand and an odd tingle in his chest. He dismisses it offhand; he’s probably just hungry.

You open the door and Llewyn’s nose is assaulted by the smell of homemade sauce - he’s half Italian, he knows these things - and cheese and garlic. You smile brightly at him. Yeah, he’s definitely hungry.

“Hey! Come in, it’s almost ready.”

He hands you the bottle. “Brought wine.”

“Excellent,” you lead him to the kitchen table and motion to a seat. He settles himself into it and grabs a piece of bread from the basket on the table as you grab two wine glasses.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks around a mouthful of carbs.

The timer dings and you pull the lasagna out of the oven. “No occasion. I just felt like making this and I didn’t really want to eat alone.”

“Lucky for you I like to eat,” he chuckles.

Your face suddenly feels warmer. Well, you did just pull a piping hot casserole dish out of the oven, so that does make sense, you suppose. You turn and put the lasagna on the trivet in the middle of the table, then turn and grab two regular glasses for water. There is an outlandish, metallic ka-chunk-ing noise as you turn on the tap, and suddenly water is shooting from under the sink and halfway across the room.

Llewyn jumps up and dives at the faucet, a chunk of bread clutched between his teeth, at the same time you crawl halfway under the sink to try and shut the water off. The stream blasts you in the face and you sputter.

This is not how you imagined tonight. Blasted ancient, rickety building. You make a mental note to have words with the super tomorrow.

You finally get the water shut off, and Llewyn closes the tap and sinks down onto the wet floor next to you. You lean against the cabinets and try to wipe the water out of your eyes.

Llewyn fares a little better; he’s only wet from his waist down. Your head thumps back on the soaked particle board behind you and you turn your head towards him. For a long moment he looks back at you, then rips the butt off the hunk of baguette in his mouth and passes it to you.

You snort. He bites his lip.

“Sorry, I think dinner might be a bit late,” you deadpan, eyes still on him, and take a bite of bread.

He bumps your shoulder with his. “It’s okay. Lasagna is always better the next day.”

Llewyn has to admit, though, it’s still pretty good a couple hours later, after you’re both dry and the lake in the kitchen is mopped up and you settle on the couch with your plates.

And if you use the water glasses for the wine, well, neither of you mentions it.

September 14

It’s pleasantly warm today, the heat of late August dragging itself into the beginning of September, and you find yourself in Washington Square Park, on a checkered blanket, a basket in the middle and a guitar by your feet. Pigeons wander and plot to steal food, but it’s easy enough to shoo them away.

It takes a little convincing, early that morning, to get Llewyn to agree to join you. It didn’t, really; he’s quickly become one of your best friends, and he doesn’t have anywhere else to be, he just likes to tease you.

But he does accept, and you eat some of the bread and cheese you packed and drink the iced tea you brought, and you get out a container of fruit salad and package of cookies your down-the-hall neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, made for you that morning.

“For you and your lovely man,” she’d said as she knocked on your door. You feel the warmth in the tips of your ears and you certainly see the color rise in Llewyn’s embarrassed face, but you don’t have the heart to correct her. She’s such a sweet old lady.

Llewyn plays a song or two while you enjoy your lunch, and even asks if you want to hear a new song he’s been working on, which you are more than happy to agree to.

It’s such a pleasant afternoon.

Until a small, brownish-gray blur jumps onto the blanket and grabs a chunk of bread and darts further onto the lawn.

“What the hell!’ Llewyn shouts as you yelp in surprise. The squirrel, for its part, just stops fifty feet away and turns back with a triumphant gaze, then scoots off into the bushes, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in its wake.

He starts to make a comment about the nerve of the wildlife, but you’re not really listening. Your eyes are fixed on the path the squirrel just ran and you tug on Llewyn’s sleeve. He keeps muttering and you tug harder.

“Llewyn.”

He finally looks up and follows your finger. There’s a flock - an honest-to-god flock, not that he has any real idea on the technical makeup of a flock, but there’s more than one so as far as he’s concerned, yeah, it’s a flock - of geese marching directly at the blanket.

Okay, so there’s only three of them. But they look angry.

The leader strides forward deliberately and bites at Llewyn’s shoe. Another yelp leaves your lips and he grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet. He also grabs the remainder of the bread and tosses it in the opposite direction as he takes off running towards the fountain, dragging you behind him.

“Where are we going?” you shout.

“No idea,” he replies. The leader falls for the bread feint, but his loyal minions do not, and they follow behind you, quacking and honking and flapping and Llewyn isn’t sure but he may dislike geese even more than he dislikes pigeons.

He jumps up on the edge of the fountain and pulls you into a protective embrace as the beasts close in. Only Llewyn doesn’t account for, you know, physics, and the force of your bodies colliding sends you both straight into the water.

Spluttering, you try to wipe the water out of your eyes. Llewyn is doing the same when a loud HONK startles you both. The leader is back, flanked by his friends, and they’re all staring at you.

“Um, Llewyn?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“...don’t geese like, love the water?”

His eyes flick to you, then the winged monsters, then you again, then the fountain like he’s seeing it for the first time and all he can do is mutter, “Shit!” and grab your hand as he pulls you to your feet and takes off running again.

You manage to swing by and gather the leavings of your picnic, blanket and basket tucked under your arms and his precious guitar clutched to him, as you beeline out of the park, soaking wet and laughing.

October 14

Llewyn slides the key into the lock and turns it, an odd flutter rolling up his spine as he hears the bolt click open. He’s had a key to your apartment for almost two months now. You gave it to him, insisted really, telling him this way he wouldn’t need to worry about finding somewhere to crash. That your couch is always open.

It still doesn’t feel real and he doesn’t always use it, but tonight he really, really doesn’t feel like making the rounds. You’ve been spending more time together recently anyway, and he feels mostly comfortable around you.

He’s greeted by the sight of you wearing a catcher’s mask and knee high rubber boots, and you’re wielding a tennis racquet. He doesn’t know what to say for a full minute.

“What are you...why are you wearing...what the hell.”

“There’s a bat,” is your whispered response.

Llewyn’s nose scrunches and he isn’t any less confused than he was a second ago. “What?”

“There’s a bat,’ you repeat. Your voice is slightly on the edge of hysteria because, well, “there is a bat. In the bathroom.”

“...okay?”

You jab your finger at the closed door. “I was just going to wash my face and brush my teeth and I went in there and it was just...in the corner, by the shelves. It was staring at me.”

He bites his lip, trying his hardest to suppress the smile tugging on his face. It isn’t working. He drops to a whisper himself and asks, “Baby, why are you whispering?”

Your head jerks towards the bathroom, and your shrug nearly sends the tennis racquet into his shoulder. “Because that’s how they...they’re...how they do the...the bat hearing thing!”

Llewyn laughs fully. He can’t help it; you’re ridiculous and his face heats a bit as he realizes it’s entirely endearing. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he says, his voice sliding back to a whisper. He avoids your death glare as he makes his way to the bathroom door. “But sit tight, slugger, I’ll get rid of it.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

Hand on the doorknob, he pauses and considers this. “Just gonna encourage it to go home? I dunno.”

Your grip tightens on the racquet. “How will that work?!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a fucking bat!” he hisses at you. “Just, make sure a window is open.” He opens the bathroom door.

Several things happen at once. Llewyn doesn’t so much open the door as he flings it wide and it slams into the wall. The bat makes a squeaky-shrieky noise (you were entirely unaware, until now, that they could even do that) and swoops out, recklessly streaking through Llewyn’s mess of curls. You make an actual shriek and fling the side window open as wide as possible. Llewyn makes a sound he can’t describe and you’re honestly not sure if it was Llewyn or the bat. The bat decides to take a few laps around the living room and you duck under the window sill just before it mercifully decides that outside is the place to be. Llewyn slams the window shut and you spring back to your feet, crash into his chest and his arms wrap around you.

Neither of you say anything, and Llewyn isn’t sure how much time passes, but he’s very aware of your hand running through his hair, and your soft words catching as you say you’re just trying to smooth out the bat damage.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, I’ll keep watch out here, make sure that thing doesn’t come back,” he jokes. “You okay?”

You finally - finally, he cheers internally - take off the catcher’s mask and nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m...good. Thanks for...thanks.”

Llewyn lets you go and takes the tennis racquet out of your hands, placing it next to the couch. He throws you a soft smile. “Just in case.”

November 14

It’s been a long night at work, a lot longer than it has any right to be and infinitely insufferable. The Gaslight is packed, patrons nearly crawling the walls and not an empty seat to be found. Drink orders stack up and you try to keep up. It’s so crazy that even Pappi doesn’t have a chance to be a smartass like usual.

Apparently it always gets like this, closer to a holiday.

Note to self - skip holidays.

There are two acts tonight. Llewyn is first, and it’s clear much of the crowd is here to catch him. It cheers you slightly, and it would certainly cheer you more if you had the time to pay more attention to him, but the constant call for whiskey and gin takes most of your focus. But for the time he’s on stage, your heart feels lighter.

Then the second act takes the stage, and Jean launches eye missiles at Llewyn from behind the microphone, and your mood sours instantly.

Yeah, it’s a very long night.

Everything is blurry for the rest of the evening, until last call mercifully rolls around and you can finally get to straightening out the mess the bar has become. You notice Llewyn still sitting on his usual stool at the end of the counter, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Don’t even say it,” you point at him sternly. “When will you stop fussing about this?” Ridiculous man. He has a key to your apartment, and still he worries that he’s an inconvenience.

You toss an orange slice at him, and he allows you a sweet grin.

Finally - finally - you’re home and Llewyn follows you inside, locking the door behind you. He heads for the couch and you head for your room, a mumbled g’night the only word that passes between you. You’re far too exhausted to deal with anything higher level.

It could be minutes or it could be hours later - your alarm clock somehow ended up on the floor and the darkish sky outside giving nothing away, and when did it start raining anyway - when a loud SPRONG and then a yelp and a THUMP from the living room jolts you awake.

It takes a few seconds to regain your senses. “Llewyn?”

“Fuck.”

You stumble out to the living room to find him half-sitting, half-sprawled on the floor, the quilt he normally uses tangled around his knees and ankles. He rubs a spot on his lower back and winces.

“Llewyn! What happened?” you cry.

He points to the middle cushion and you see something sticking up from the padding.

“Oh, Llewyn, jesus. I’m so sorry,” you apologize. You really do feel terrible; your couch hasn’t been in the best shape for ages, and it looks like the squeaky spring you noticed a few weeks ago finally gave up and poked it way through. And stabbed Llewyn in the back as he slept. Damn it. 

“It’s...it’s fine,” he tells you, still wincing. “I can turn the other way, or sleep on the floor. Not a big deal.”

You shake your head. “Yes big deal. My couch just stabbed you, and it’s cold outside, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“S’fine. Not the first time I ended up on the floor.”

You make up your mind before you even think about it and reach your hand out to him. “Come on,” you wiggle your fingers. “Come to bed.”

Llewyn’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to protest, but your look is so firm that he relents with a soft sigh and extricates himself from the blanket. He follows you to the bedroom and asks, no less than seven times, if you’re sure this is okay and says he really has no problem sleeping on the floor. You eventually tell him to shut the hell up and get under the covers.

You both lay on your sides, facing each other, but keep a space between you. Llewyn still looks mildly uneasy but relaxes as you smile at him and the warmth of your duvet and the softness of your pillows pull him under.

“Good night again, Llewyn,” you whisper.

“Good night again,” he replies with a soft yawn.

The rain steadily patters on your window and the sky slowly lightens as morning breaks and you languidly wake, curled into Llewyn’s chest, his arms secure around you.

December 14

Snow falls lightly outside, coats the grass and sticks to Llewyn’s curls, and his breath swirls and makes curlicues in the chill winter air. It’s two weeks until Christmas, and you decide to put up a tree, a real tree, and you tell him he’s going to help decorate it.

You also tell him that a bunch of your light strings have stopped working, and before you can ask him to run to the shop down the block that sells replacements, he volunteers and is out the door.

He can’t remember the last time he was anywhere with a real tree. It was usually those cheap-looking fake ones, the green plastic branches a color that would never exist naturally, if there were any tree at all.

So yeah, maybe he’s a little excited. He comes up the steps to the apartment, a bag perched in the crook of his elbow as he unlocks the door.

“So I got the lights, like you asked,” he says cheerfully, and sets the bag down on the table by the door.

“Help.” That’s...not the response he’s expecting.

It’s two weeks since the entire living room has been rearranged. The new, non-back-stabbing couch is on the opposite wall. You rearranged all your shelves, got a new armchair, and much to Llewyn’s wary delight and bewilderment, a new side table. The side table has blank sheet music and pens and there’s a guitar stand next to it and he doesn’t really know what to make of it. You just smile and tell him he needs a space to be himself, whatever that means.

The newly-opened space under the window is where the tree is going. Or, should be going. Llewyn looks down at the toppled fir and sees a foot sticking out near the trunk.

“Sweetheart? What happened?”

Your voice answers from beneath the branches. “Can you just help get this off me, please?”

Llewyn rights the tree and turns his head to check on you. He’s more concerned about you than the tree, of course, but he wants to make sure it doesn’t take you out again so he secures it to the stand as he takes you in. Thankfully you look fine, a few needles stuck to your sweater and a tiny scratch on your cheek, but otherwise…

He tries to stifle a laugh. “You’re looking very festive.”

Your eyes narrow. “Go ahead and ask,” you bite out, “because I know you’re going to ask.”

“I already did ask, before I had to be your lumberjack.”

You refrain from telling him that lumberjacks fell trees, not upright them. Whatever. You motion your head to the shiny silver tinsel wrapped around your torso. You can’t use your hands, really, and you’re not sure how they got tied up in this mess, exactly, but here you are, sitting on your living room floor in a pile of pine needles, trussed like a Christmas goose in sparking silver twine.

And your best friend is laughing at you. Jerk.

“I was trying to get this around the top part, and I lost my balance. Then like an idiot I tried to catch myself on the tree, and the whole damn thing went down with me,” you sigh. “I don’t even know how the rest of this tangled mess happened.”

He does laugh now, full and rich. “I was only gone for like, twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, can you maybe...untie me?”

“Oh! Wait, here, I got something else,” Llewyn jumps to his feet. He ignores your request and pokes around in the shopping bag.

“If it’s not chocolate, I don’t want to hear about it,” your grumbled response brings another laugh.

Llewyn’s back in front of you seconds later, holding a small white cluster above your head. The grin on his face is equally charming and infuriating.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you blink at him.

“I mean, I was just gonna, y’know, hang it above the door later and let it happen, but now seems like a better time for some Christmas cheer.”

“I think you’re pretty satisfyingly cheerful right now, idiot.”

He waves the mistletoe over your heads. “Come on. It’s tradition.”

One day, maybe you’ll be able to stop sighing in his presence, but today is not that day. You sigh again, roll your eyes, and lean in, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and delighting in the shade of crimson he turns in response. He clears his throat and places the mistletoe to the side.

“Now will you untie me?” you ask, sugar-sweet.

He does, and helps you get the tinsel where it’s supposed to go and you spend the rest of the afternoon decorating the tree and drinking hot cider.

Llewyn sings you more than one Christmas song to make up for all the teasing.

January 14

It seems like a good idea at the time. One of your friends at your actual day-to-day job offers to set you up with another coworker, and it’s been ages since you went on a date and you figure, why not? What could possibly go wrong?

It turns out the answer is, a lot. A lot can go wrong. So much that you don’t even want to think about it.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. There is no chemistry, no spark, just an hours-long recitation of how your date is god’s gift to pretty much everything under the sun and possibly also the moon. The name-drops are just the cherry on top.

Maybe your first impression isn’t wrong after all.

You trudge up to your apartment, the bag of your favorite takeout under your arm filled to nearly bursting, and get the door open. All you want to do is stuff your face and maybe take a long, hot bath with a glass of wine. Yes, that sounds perfect.

The melody of a strumming guitar stops as you place the bag on the side table and shimmy out of your coat. The lamp in the corner is the only illumination and you tilt your head towards the armchair’s occupant. You’re surprised that he’s there, but only because he was supposed to be somewhere else tonight. Knowing he wouldn’t be around was at least...half the reason you agreed to this stupid date in the first place.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date tonight?” Llewyn asks in a low voice through the dim light.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing at the Gaslight tonight?” you retort, brow raised.

He shrugs. “Might have had a few too many an’ said some things. Might’ve gotten thrown out.”

“Mmm,” you appraise him. He just looks the same way you feel; ridiculously tired. Exhausted. “Might’ve told my date I had to use the restroom but… maybe didn’t mention I meant the one at my house.”

“That bad?” Despite his snort, Llewyn sounds genuinely curious.

You sigh as you flop down on the couch and hold up the takeout bag. “I’d rather not talk about it. You wanna help me eat this?”

In an instant he’s on the couch next to you and you hand him some plastic utensils and a napkin. You get up and grab two beers. For a while you just focus on eating, passing containers back and forth with occasional comments about the food. Your knees bump sometimes as you each reach for different containers or your drinks.

“So what happened?”

You stab a piece of chicken a bit more forcefully than necessary. “I said I don’t want to talk about it. It was a stupid idea to go on a blind date.”

“Kind of a stupid idea to go on a date at all,” Llewyn replies softly.

“What.” It’s not really a question. You definitely don’t mean it as a question and you vaguely think about throwing an egg roll at him but that would be an honest waste of decent takeout.

“I know what the problem is,” he continues in a normal voice. “It’s the fourteenth.”

You look at him with a raised brow. He has an odd look on his face and you wait a beat before asking, “Okay? And?”

Llewyn also waits a beat before replying and points at you with his fork, a green bean stabbed on the end. You lean forward and pluck it off with your teeth. He needs a moment to clear his throat before he can go on. “It’s the fourteenth,” he repeats. “Don’t know if you noticed, but...well..weird things seem to keep happening. On the fourteenth. Of every month.”

“Huh.” He’s right, now that you think about it. You stab your food again. “What do you think that means?”

Llewyn looks like he wants to say something, like he’s going to say something, but instead he just shrugs. You put the container down and lean back on the couch, swinging your feet into Llewyn’s lap. 

He idly strokes your ankles as his expression grows serious. “I think it means we should not go out on any fourteenths, ever. Just to be safe.”

You poke him with your big toe. “You’re an idiot. There are things that can happen inside. There are things that have happened inside.”

A smirk creeps through his beard. “Shit, you’re right. One-a your crappy novels might fall off the shelf and crack me on the skull.” He pauses. “More run-ins with wildlife? Oh! I know. Squirrels, but this time, in the walls.”

“That’s not funny!” you try to poke him again and dissolve into giggles as he tickles your foot. Your combined laughter ricochets off the living room walls before dissipating back into silence.

This time, you’re clearing your throat before being able to continue. “It’s been a day. I’m gonna go take a hot bath.” You get up and walk down the hall to the bathroom.

“Please don’t fall asleep in the tub!” he calls after you. “Don’t forget what day it is.”

Idiot.

After your bath, you head to the bedroom and find Llewyn passed out on top of the covers. He has a key, and he stays over far more often than not nowadays, and even though he’s been told numerous times since the broken couch that it’s okay if he’d rather sleep in a bed, you don’t mind sharing, he rarely takes you up on that offer. Okay, so this is the first time since the broken couch that he’s even sort of taken up the offer.

It’s been a weird day.

You grab a quilt and curl up on the other side of the bed, pulling it over both of you and snuggling down into your pillow. 

“I wonder what happens on the next fourteenth,” you yawn mutter into the darkness of the room.

You’re asleep, so you can’t notice that Llewyn isn’t, really, and he rolls to face away from you and whispers, “Yeah, me too.”

February 14

The air inside the Gaslight is thick with smoke that coils and kinks around the dim lights on the walls and the candles on the tables. Someone at the end of the bar calls out for a straight bourbon, which you pour and pass down. The sound system shrieks with feedback for three painful seconds as Pappi flips the power on.

You glance back behind the bar, making sure the bottles are stocked and the glasses are ready. Another night at the Gaslight is about to start, and Llewyn isn’t playing tonight, and he hasn’t shown up yet, which is strange.

Another thing that’s strange? This weird feeling of déjà vu.  Whatever, you’ve been working more nights at the club recently, and they’re all starting to blend together.

“Your friend’s out back,” Pappi’s voice breaks into your thoughts as he sidles up to the bar and leans back on it.

“My friend?” you ask, confused.

Pappi shrugs. “Said he was a friend of yours. Dark curly hair, worn corduroy jacket, always looks tired or pissed off or both.”

Your expression doesn’t change. “Wait, why is...did he get the crap kicked out of him again?”

“Nah,” Pappi shakes his head. “At least, maybe not yet. Anyway, I dunno, he just asked me to tell you he was outside. I don’t know what the hell he’s up to.” He nods his head towards the back exit and turns to tend to the bar.

Strange.

You duck your head out the door and glance up and down the alley. You see nothing except the usual debris; trash containers, the dumpster, the rusty drain pipes that run down from the gutters, weathered fire escapes. Something skitters off at the far end and disappears between the buildings. Was that a raccoon?

You snort a laugh as you recall Llewyn’s jab about wildlife run-ins. It would be something that happens, in a dark alley behind a basket house in Greenwich Village on the fourteenth of…

Oh. It is the fourteenth.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls from the head of the alley.

Llewyn stands there, leaning against the brick, dark curls and worn corduroy and all. He holds a single yellow rose in his hands. He looks incredibly nervous, enough to match you looking incredibly confused.

You step fully outside and the door clicks shut behind you. “Hi?”

“Uhm, this is for you,” he says, awkwardly holding the rose out. “Saw a guy selling ‘em a few blocks down, thought you might like it.”

“Thank you? But what’s the occasion?” Why is everything coming out as a question? Even that.

He bites his lip. “You don’t know what today is?”

“Yeah, it’s the four---” Oh. Oh. 

“You wanna get out of here? Have dinner with me, maybe?” Llewyn rubs the back of his neck. It’s a nervous habit you’ve seen him done countless times, usually when he’s thinking about something serious and… Oh.

You twirl the rose in your fingertips and don’t quite meet his eyes. “I thought you said maybe we shouldn’t go out any fourteenths.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well. Um, I don’t know if you also noticed, along with this whole fourteenth business, but I...I really like spending time with you, just hanging out with you, and...I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid, but I thought maybe we could, y’know, have a non-weird fourteenth day of the month for a change.”

He’s rambling and it’s adorable. You hum softly. “...on Valentine’s Day.”

Llewyn’s hands twitch in his pockets. “Well...yeah. I mean, I like spending time with you, but...I also like you. So why not?”

He has a point. And really, now that one of you has said it out loud, you really can’t deny it. All the time spent together, all the shared meals and drinks and late-night talks on the couch and letting him basically move into your apartment...it’s no secret, you realize, it never really was, how close you’ve become over the past many months. How easy it is with him. How natural it is.

All the times he helped you. All the times you helped him. All the times you were together, just being.

The fourteenth of the month be damned.

You pretend to think about it for a little longer than necessary as Llewyn watches you anxiously. “Well, I do have to work, you know.”

“I already asked your boss,” he shakes his head, “and he was more than willing to agree. Something about not getting a black eye on your behalf tonight.”

Your laugh rings out into the street. “But it is the fourteenth. What if one of us gets food poisoning or chokes on dessert or something?”

“Vomit doesn’t bother me and I know the Heimlich,” he smirks. “And I’m already asking you out in a dark alley in the Village, how much weirder can it get?”

“You make a fair point, Llewyn Davis.”

He extends an elbow and a hopeful smile.

If he notices, as he brushes his lips on your knuckles as you take his offered arm, that your breath catches and your heart rate increases, he doesn’t let on.

But later that night, as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your neck and asks you what you want to do on the next fourteenth, well, Llewyn Davis definitely notices then.

~end~

#llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #valentine's fic exchange #oscar fandom fic exchange #samrockweil

[rex101111]

Doctor visits (and what purpose they serve)

Rating: T

Summery: Anji, Baiken and Eri visit the doctor for a perfectly routine check-up.

Faust grows very sick of two of them, for different reasons.

AN: Finally. FUCKING FINALLY I ON GOD FINISHED IT. THE FIRST ERI PIECE I DID IN A WHILE. AND ALSO A BAIKEN ANJI FIC. HECK YEAH. also first time writing Faust let’s hope I did okay. enjoy.

ALSO. 50TH STORY ON AO3. HECK YEAH. okay here you go.

Faust was sure nothing gave him as much trouble as giving children a physical. Not because of the children themselves, of course not. They were always nervous the first time, of course, but with a light dosage of silly faces and liberal application of cheap magic tricks, they always came around.

No, the children were never the problem, their parents on the other hand…

Whether they were nervous themselves, protective, or worst of all bored, they never failed to prove to be a headache during what was supposed to be a quick and easy check-up. And that was under normal circumstances.

And, as most things tended to be for Faust, today was in no way normal.

Firstly, the child. Forgetting any of her outstanding physical traits, Faust had seen many varieties of weird shit and a horn was comparatively mundane, she was quite unlike any child he had ever met before. She flinched and quaked at every metal object in his office, as if it was meant for her. She barely spoke a word since she sat on the medical bed, only mumbling her answers when he asked her questions about her health and diet.

She had signs of malnutrition (thin limbs, underweight, slightly pale skin), but they were clearly in remission for the past few months or so. She had faint signs of every form of child abuse he had ever had to deal with in his office, but all of them muted and in recovery, slow as it was.

And then, as he went on, she started to straighten her spine and look him in the eye…hole more directly. She still shook when he brought out his stethoscope, but it seemed controlled, somehow.

About half way through, he decided he’ll give her two lollipops, an extra brave girl deserved an extra reward.

…secondly the…well, he hesitated to say parent. If only because he had no idea how the person in question would react to the title. Baiken and Anji could never find their way to him quietly, it was always a big thing. He either had to stich up a life-threatening wound while Baiken cursed at him, or untie some mess Anji had somehow gotten himself into.

And now, they bring this interesting child into his practice. The bright red eyes made some very loud klaxons blare in his head, but every other thing about her gave him pause. She was dressed comfortably, in a ruby red kimono, and was hiding from him behind Baiken’s leg. Children being nervous around a stranger was normal, and Faust would readily admit that he was very strange indeed, but something about her posture and how tightly she had gripped the fabric, not to mention the hint of bandages peaking from her sleeves, made a different set of warning sirens sound off.

Anji kneeled down and patted the girl on the head, the gesture seeming to calm her, before he looked at Faust, “Doctor!” He cheerfully greeted, “so good to see you after such a long time!” He pointed towards the young girl like he was presenting something fantastic, “You see, me and Baiken had recently added a tiny companion to our merry little band,” he graciously ignored Baiken clicking her tongue, “and well, it just hit us the other day that we don’t know anything about her medical condition!” Anji stood up dramatically and puffed himself up for something no doubt very long winded, “so you see, we came here for a very important task! We need-“

“She needs a check-up,” Baiken had gruffly surmised, putting her hand on the child’s head, “you got a free slot today or what?”

Anji visibly deflated, one could almost hear the high pitched whine of rushing helium, before he cleared his throat, “uh, yes, that.” He shuffled his feet quietly while Baiken shook her head with a wry smirk and Eri looked between them, wide eyed and confused, “so…do you?”

As it so happened, he did, so now here he was, testing the little girl’s, Eri’s, reflexes while Baiken attempted to glare a hole in the side of his head, her sword clicking in and out of her scabbard with repeated flicks of her thumb.

“Better watch that hammer Doc,” the samurai growled lowly, narrowing her eye at him, “she makes a sound of pain and you stop feeling any,” teeth grinding against each other and an extra loud click, “permanently.”

The threat itself would have usually gone ignored. Faust was used to Baiken’s almost comical mistrust of medical professionals, he long figured that whatever cost her an arm and an eye soured her on the whole business and he could hardly begrudge her a bit of grumbling in light of that.

With Eri here, the threat seemed to hold significantly more weight. Every time he pulled some new device or tool she refused to let him anywhere near the girl until he told her exactly what it was and exactly what he intended to do with it to her. He had to repeatedly stamp down his frustration with her lack of knowledge, if she hadn’t made a habit of deliberately skipping physical checks, she would know nothing in this office could hurt a fly…well, unless it fell on the fly but that would be hardly fair to blame him on.

And honestly, it would have been heartwarming, if it didn’t make this check take up much, much longer then it needed to. That being said, he made a point of making as small an impact as he could on Eri’s knees, the legs kicking up lightly in response. “Very good dear.”

He got up and walked to his papers, sitting in a chair as he started writing down his newest data while pointedly ignoring Baiken continuing to glare at his back. As well as her reaching away from her sword to rub a single, slow circle on Eri’s back. A gesture that seemed to visibly and quickly calm the girl down.

For all the wonderful, odd things Faust had seen, the one thing he never imagined he’d see is someone that Baiken actually tried to comfort. Well, aside from the times Anji had brushed death’s door in his clinic and she held his hand while he recovered. But then again, that was an exception…and then again, Anji always seemed to be an exception when Baiken was concerned.

That is, apparently, until Eri showed up.

The dancer himself was waiting outside, no doubt yammering Fanny’s ear off, and the look he gave Faust as he handed over Eri and Baiken was…odd. There was something tense in Anji as he saw them off into the room, though that was quickly hidden as Faust decided to give Anji his full attention for a moment.

He pushed those thoughts aside to return to the matter at hand. He opened one last drawer, taking out a syringe. Considering how Eri reacted to everything else he pulled out…he almost feared her reaction to this more than Baiken’s. Almost.

Taking a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst, he turned around on his chair with the syringe in one hand, the other raising up in a gesture meant to calm, “alright dear we’re almost done.” Since his head was still attached to his neck, though Eri froze on the bed, he hazarded to keep going, “all I need to do is take a small blood-“

“No!”

Things happened very quickly after that, like dominos getting blasted by a leaf blower towards a very big and red button. Eri curled almost completely inwards on herself, shivering in panic and shuffling away.

Baiken looked at her in alarm, looked at him, looked at the needle, and then she glare-fast-deathSWORD!

Shink!

Through some miracle Faust did not dare to question, he somehow managed to pull out his clipboard and place it in the path of Baiken’s strike, and further, in a display of what could only be divine slapstick, the sword was stuck in the board instead of cleaving it clean in half and going on its merry way to do the same to his bag and face.

Though by the sounds of straining wood and low growls, along with the chair he sat in making some very distressing sounds of its own, that miracle wouldn’t last for long.

“Five seconds.” The samurai hissed while her arm quaked trying to continue its trajectory, ”explain the fucking needle.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, “blood tests!” He squeaked with no regard for his dignity, “need blood for blood tests! General health! Vaccinations! Any other minor health problem that can’t be determined with a non-invasive examination!” The explanation tumbled out of his mouth in a hurried panic, a flower bloomed at the top of his head, its petals wilting, as he smiled a rictus grin under his bag. “One point five milliliters! Tops! Promise!”

A few heart-attack inducing moments passed, and then Baiken finally, mercifully, retracted her sword. “Hmph.” She huffed tonelessly, before turning her head to the still shivering form of Eri on the medical bed.

Almost instantly, all the tension in Baiken’s shoulders vanished and she sighed. His head swirled in lingering panic trying to square this Baiken with the one he was used to, finding little success.

Turning his attention to the young girl, he finally gathered enough of his wits to feel very worried. “Oh dear…” He looked between Eri and Baiken, the latter stone like as she stared at the young girl, and raised his nearly sliced clipboard in her direction, “uh, should we call Anji or-“

“I’ll handle it.”

He felt like he got slapped by a fish, which was odd since May wasn’t due for a check-up for another week, “what?”

“I said I’ll handle it.” She repeated tiredly, sheathing her sword and walking towards Eri with an oddly calm stride. As she reached the bed, she carefully and slowly lifted her hand and touched Eri’s shoulder, the young girl flinching almost violently at the contact. “Hey, kiddo,” Baiken, undeterred by the reaction, whispered gently to the young girl. “Kiddo, it’s just me.”

The sheer difference compared to what was a person trying to rip him in half not a minute ago was nearly surreal, and he had never heard Baiken talk like that to anyone. And yet here she is, slowly rubbing circles on Eri’s shoulder with her thumb until the young girl took enough control of her hiccupping sobs to look up at her.

The relief Eri showed towards Baiken was even more surreal, he should probably check if he mistook his morning aspirin for something a bit more potent. “I-“ The halting voice of Eri knocked him out of his incredulity, the girl sniffing miserably. “I-I can’t…” Something dark and stomach-churning passed her expression, “It’s…it’s just like-“

“It isn’t.” Baiken declared quietly, her voice going tight, “The doc ain’t nothing like…” Her shoulders bunch up for a moment before relaxing again, “…he ain’t nothing like him Eri.” Baiken looks at him over her shoulder, still in his chair waiting to see if getting up would be worth the effort. “He’s a bit of a kook, but he’s good at his job…everything considered.”

Faust did his dignity a favor and choose to take that as a compliment.

“…I trust him.” Faust pushed down the minor elation at hearing that, Baiken was in the middle of something and a victory dance would probably undermine it. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t Eri.” She then put her hand on Eri’s head, mussing up her ivory hair. “I promise.”

He had the slightest feeling he was intruding on something, so he elected to mess with the buttons on his jacket when Eri started to wipe her face. Part of him was happy that Baiken could find someone to be this gentle with. All that anger building up in her was a recipe for both misery and high blood pressure.

Another part of him, a part that remembered a small, motionless body on an operating table, couldn’t help but…worry. Baiken was strong enough to defend herself…but could she-?

“Doc.”

He nearly ripped a button when he fell off his chair in surprise, though he quickly caught himself and stood up to his full height, nearly hitting the ceiling light. “Ye-“ He cleared his throat mid-squawk. “Yes?”

“Get another needle,” She continued, sitting on the bed next to a now calm, but still sniffling, Eri. “Do me before you get to her.” She raised her scarred eyebrow at him. “I’m due for physical, ain’t I?”

It took him a moment to catch on, but soon he relaxed his posture and clapped his hands in realization, “as a matter of fact you are, now that I think of it!” He went back to the drawer to take out another syringe. He then sat on his chair again, backwards, and wheeled himself before his two patients. He pulled out a handkerchief for Eri out of one of his pockets before he went on cheerfully, “And a lucky thing that you are Baiken, because this affords me to explain to Eri exactly what I need to do.”

He looked at Eri, another flower, healthier than the last one, blooming on his head as he leaned slightly towards her, “would you like that Eri? I promise it’s very interesting.”

Eri stared at him for a moment, her eyes lingering on the flower, before she sniffed one last time and wiped her face, nodding quietly.

“Wonderful!” He exclaimed, taking out a cotton swab and soaking it with rubbing alcohol, “first things first, we need to clean and sterilize the area where I intend to put the needle.” He wiggled his fingers rapidly and waved his head back and forth, “there’s all sorts of creepy crawly germs on your skin, and they have no business getting into your body, so we need to make sure they aren’t anywhere near the needle.”

Eri, to his eternal relief, actually giggled a little, her lips lifting up slightly in not-quite-a-smile. She watched him rub the swab on the crook of Baiken’s elbow, “why there?”

“Excellent question my dear!” Faust praised with a raised finger, before pointing to the blue vein in the crook, “you see, this vein is in an easy to access location, and is almost flush with the skin, so there’s no danger of putting the needle through anything important.” He then took the needle and began piercing Baiken’s skin. “And now…”

Eri watched him pull back on the back of the syringe, the tube filling with blood for a moment before he took it out and placed the swab on it.

Baiken, naturally, never made a sound or even twitched during the whole process. Didn’t so much as breath in to brace for it. If Faust hadn’t just finished extracting blood, and knew Baiken well enough, he would have been very concerned. Well, more concerned about her than he usually was at any rate.

“There! Now we just tape it down to stop the bleeding,” saying so he took out a length of clear tape out of another pocket and used it to hold the cotton swab in place. “And voila!” He stood on his feet and took a dramatic bow, “all finished.”

Eri’s eyes shone with admiration, getting caught up in Faust’s performance and clapping excitedly for him. He showed his gratitude for her applause with the required grace, taking another two bows. Baiken scoffed quietly but didn’t interrupt, Faust knew her well enough not to be offended by the fact she didn’t clap.

“Alright then.” Faust said finally, sitting back down on the chair and taking out the second syringe, “now for your turn dear.” He looked at her arms, covered from wrist to armpit in bandages, freshly changed even, and made an effort to not be obvious as he braced for what he would see underneath, “if you would please?”

He tried to make the request as gentle as possible, but still Eri’s mouth pressed into a thin line, her hands freezing mid-clap before grabbing her forearms tightly. She looked at him for a long moment, before looking aside at Baiken. The samurai smirked, the expression strangely warm, and nodded briefly.

Taking a breath to steady herself, Eri began to unravel her bandages with a determined look on her face.

What Faust saw underneath them made his skin crawl and his blood boil. The cruelty was evident on every scar, but what really got stuck in his craw was the precision. Whoever made those marks on Eri had a hand as steady as a rock, not a single mark of hesitation or second guessing. Such precision was born of either practice, or innate talent, and he wasn’t sure which option made him more sick to his stomach.

(He felt more than a little hypocritical, but if there was one thing he and Bald-the good doctor agreed on, was that such marks should never appear on children.)

“Doctor?” The small voice nearly made him gag from the memories it brought up, but he managed to take back control of himself quick enough for his vision to coalesce enough to see Eri looking up at him in concern, “are you okay? You were quiet for a long time…”

He opened his mouth before he closed it, his mind drawing a blank. He looked aside at Baiken, who raised an eyebrow at him, her look half dubious and half worried herself.

“I’m fine dear.” He finally managed, waving away her worry, “I just remembered something, don’t worry about it, alright?” He waited for her to nod, before returning it more energetically, “wonderful, so, back to business.”

The swab, “it’s a bit cold and might tickle a bit, okay?”

A quick, halting nod. Followed by a quick burst of laughter.

“Pump your fist a bit dear?”

Biting her tongue, she made an adorable effort of making and opening a fist. The way she did it made it clear that she never had to fight anyone, which made the strain in his chest unclench a bit.

“Right…” The needle in his hand began moving, “brace yourself dear…”

Despite the courage she showed before, some of it crumbled in the face of the sharp point so close to her flesh. There was no uncertainty in her eyes, she knew exactly how the needle would feel.

Faust breathed through his nose and counted to five.

Almost as if by instinct, Eri buried her face in Baiken’s nearby shoulder, her free hand grabbing on to the fabric much like she did when she first showed up. But her other arm stayed where it was, she didn’t try to pull it away or hide it from the doctor, she simply did as he instructed and braced herself.

Three. He’ll give her three lollipops.

He grabbed hold of her offered arm by the wrist, and brought the needle close to her vein, “deep breath,” Eri did as he said, and the second she finished taking in air he finally sticks the needle in. The girl flinches, but only digs her face deeper into Baiken’s shoulder with a restrained whine.

He takes out one point five milliliters, Baiken’s eye welded to the tiny measurement lines, and takes the needle out. “Almost done.” With professional efficiency, he stops the bleeding with a cotton ball, before covering it with a Band-Aid.

A pink one, with a picture of a unicorn on it.

“…really doc?” Baiken is half-way to smirking, but the tone of her voice makes it look like a grimace, “what, you got a stash of those?”

“Of all the things I do, this is what draws you up short?” He asks innocently, gesturing at himself. “Besides, I thought it would be appropriate.” Baiken opened her mouth before closing it and making a yeah good point shrug, Faust then turned to his patient, “now Eri, how are you feeling?” He tapped her wrist lightly, the Band-Aid smiling up at her as she looked at it, “any pain? Itching? Discomfort?”

The girl shook her head, “N-No, I’m okay.” She takes one last, lingering look at the unicorn, her lips twitching upwards for a moment, before picking up her bandages to re-wrap her forearms with practiced ease, and then looking at the doctor with a bit of apprehension, “i-is there anything else?”  

“Oh no,” The doctor waved off, standing up from his chair with a clap of his hands, “we’re all done for today, and you were very brave.” He leaned down to her eye-level, “and do you know what you get for being very brave?”

Eri looked at him doubtfully, before shaking her head.

Without a word, Faust pulled out three red, plastic covered lollipops, and handed them over to the wide-eyed girl, “a well-deserved reward, that’s what.”

“Damn straight,” Baiken agreed, patting the little girl on the back with a toothy grin, “good job kid, you’ve earned it.” Then her face did something that nearly made Faust’s eye twitch, it went stern, “just don’t eat ‘em all right way yeah? There’s gonna be dinner soon.”

Upon hearing Baiken, of all people, say something that stereotypically parental, Faust could feel his patience for the universe at large rapidly approaching its limit. He took Eri down from the bed and began ushering the two of them out of his office. “Alright, then let’s leave, we’ve kept Anji waiting for long enough.”

Eri unwrapped one of her rewards, stashing the other two in the clothing folds on her chest, and popped it into her mouth as they walked. Baiken looked down at her with an oddly soft expression that left her face as soon as they caught sight of Anji and Fanny.

The dancer was engaged in what seemed like a very exciting and very one sided conversation, the nurse smiling politely at him with all the energy of someone who has been on the rack all damn day and just wants his executioner to get a move on already. If Anji noticed, and he almost certainly did, he made a great show of not being bothered by it.

His focus shifted instantly when Eri and Baiken came close enough, Anji’s smile lighting up his face as he walked towards them, “Eri! So good to see you again!” He kneeled down to meet her gaze properly, “and I see you’ve a reward as well!” He put his hand on her head and warmly ruffled her hair, smile reaching his eyes, “good job dear.”

Faust found this sight slightly easier to stomach, Anji had always been the more emotionally open of the duo. But still, to see those two this attached to this little girl…something about it boded ill, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Shorry it took sho long…” Eri twiddled her thumbs with the lollipop still in her mouth, “it was kinda shcary…”

“Oh don’t worry about it sweetheart.” Anji waved off with a chuckle, “I had some very pleasant company to pass the time with.” He turned around to smile at Fanny, “isn’t that right, miss nurse?”

“Oh yes Mr. Mito.” Fanny nodded cheerfully while writing something on a nearby clipboard, “it was a very engaging conversation.” Anji nodded back, but as soon as he turned his head to look back at Eri, the nurse lifted the clipboard to show what she wrote, the polite smile unmoving on her face.

It read, in very fancy but firm writing: “Never leave me alone with him again. Ever.” The word “ever” was underlined. Four times. With a separate, red marker.

Faust mentally penciled tomorrow off for Fanny, she’s earned her own little “lollipop”, so to speak. “I’m happy you were patient with us Mr. Mito,” He began, before he sighed, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to wait a bit longer.”

Eri simply blinked at him innocently still busy with her treat, while Baiken and Anji snapped their gazes to him in unison, like a pair of hawks on a hunt, shoulders tense and eyes sharp.

“Nothing serious!” He was quick to assure, the two relaxing only slightly, “It’s simply that Ms. Baiken reminded she is well past due her own checkup.” He turned to Baiken with a smile under his mask that was perfectly professional, “isn’t that right, miss Baiken?”

The samurai’s stare quickly morphed into something that screamed me and my big mouth before she bared her teeth and shook her head, “you know you ain’t going anywhere near me, yeah?”

“I am fully aware yes.” Faust nodded diplomatically, “but the fact remains that you do need a check-up, so I am offering a compromise,” he gestures towards his ever-loyal nurse, “I think that you will find Nurse Fanny to be entirely professional, and as a female physician she would know better what you would find uncomfortable or not.” He clears his throat. “Better than me, at any rate.”

 Baiken looked at Fanny, who had jumped to attention with a slightly overeager smile on her face at being called to action, a bit dubiously, but before she could voice her misgivings, Anji jumped in with a hand on her shoulder, “excellent idea doctor!” He squeezed her shoulder with a smile that was only slightly sharp at the edges, “if we’re here and worried about our health, why not make the most of the visit?”

Baiken shoved her elbow into her partner’s stomach with a scowl, “I don’t need-“

“After all,” Anji continued smoothly, with one arm rubbing where the elbow had impacted while he smiled a bit more sharply, “since we put Eri through this rigmarole, why shouldn’t we do the same?” Anji leaned a bit more into Baiken’s space, and while the dancer while still smiling Faust was certain the samurai began to sweat a little, “all in the interest of health, of course.”

After a moment of heated glaring, Baiken visibly sagged with a sigh, “fine, whatever.” She leaned out of Anji’s grasp, the dancer letting her go easily, and turned to Fanny, “alright nurse, let’s get this over with yeah? I got other shit to-“ A tug at her kimono stopped her, and she looked down to see Eri grasping the white cloth with a worried look on her face, “…don’t worry kiddo.” She mussed Eri’s hair a bit, “I’m just making noise, I’ll be back out before-“

“Can I come with you?” Eri interjected quickly, as if saying it any slower would drain her courage, “I-I mean, I was scared at the doctor’s, s-so, I want to be there with you too.” She worried the white cloth in her hands and looked down at her feet, “y-you know, i-if you get scared.”

The idea of Baiken being afraid of something as mundane as a checkup, for all of her bluster, was just this side of ludicrous, but Faust managed to hold on to his laughter long enough for Baiken to sigh quietly again, much softer this time, turning to Fanny with a light smirk, “is it okay if I bring a guest?”

Fanny smiled warmly as she opened the door to the examination room, “of course! Little Eri won’t be a bother at all, please!” She motioned for the two to come in, “let’s get started, shall we?”

Baiken scoffed, “ya hear that kid? You’re my backup.” She smiled with her teeth at the little girl, who nodded excitedly at the gesture instead of cowering in fear as most would in response to one of Baiken’s smiles, and started following her guardian as they entered the room.

Anji spoke up, “maybe I can-“

“You stay here,” Baiken stabbed at him irritably, “your bull earned you an extra half hour of boredom, now sit.” She glared him down into the nearest plastic chair, and turned back to the room…before sparing her nurse one last doubtful look, “…you don’t still have that huge-ass needle, right?”

“Oh don’t worry miss Baiken!” Fanny reassured as she began to close the door, “I only use that for emergencies.”

The last thing of Baiken to be seen before the doors closed is her face morphing into the very picture of deep concern.

And thus, the two men were left to themselves. Anji went to a nearby chair, sat on it very slowly and deliberately, and turned to Faust with a very thin smile, “you have the look of a man with a lot on his mind, doctor.” Anji’s smile grow wider but stayed as thin as paper as he patted the pale yellow plastic chair to his left in invitation, “how about you have a seat and you can unload all of those worries to your old friend Anji, eh?”

Anji Mito was certainly very friendly, of that Faust would gladly attest, but his friend? That was stretching it a bit, “I’ll stand, Mr. Mito, thank you.” He took out the vial of blood he took from Eri out of his pocket and moved it in his palm for a moment, “and yes, I have a great number of worries to bring to your attention.”

Anji stared at him for a moment, before something in his eyes shifted and changed, the angle of his gaze sharper than it was a moment ago. Wordlessly, he motioned for Faust to begin, his smile painted on.

Faust knew subtlety would be a waste of time, so he went straight to it. “She’s a Gear.” Not a question, but simply a statement of fact. He looked down at the vial, the color in it shifting in the florescent light of his practice in ways that normal blood simply did not. “Is That Man involved in this?”

“Ha!” Anji barked out harshly, clapping his hands once, “well, aren’t we perceptive! Good catch doctor!” His smile opened up and showed a few teeth, “did the red eyes and horn give it away?”

Faust clenched his free hand but kept his calm, “answer the question Mr. Mito.”

Anji was quiet for a moment, before his smile shrunk slightly and he shook his head, “no, I’m intimately familiar with his work. Trust me, Asuka had nothing to do with this.” He laughed a little nervously, “if he did, we’d be on the run from Mr. Badguy right now.”

Faust sighed, conceding the point, “fair enough.” He moved to his desk to shuffle a few of the notes he’s made about Eri during her check-up. “What information do you have about where she came from?”  

“Next to nothing.” Anji answered almost too cheerfully, “the circumstances of us meeting Eri sort of…put a damper on any effort to find out about her past.” He coughed into his palm, “it was part of the reason I brought her to you doctor.” A smile as sweet as arsenic stretched his face, “would it be too much trouble to ask you to send that blood sample to Illyria?”

Faust rubbed his forehead over his paper back with a weary sigh, “I’ll try to get it to Paradox directly.” He was beginning to understand Baiken’s short temper more and more, “…regarding those circumstances…” Anji’s smile slipped right off, “…I’m guessing she came into your company from…the person who gave her those scars?”

Anji blinked at the doctor for a moment, and then smiled again, this time a bit more honestly, “yes, those would be the broad strokes.” He laughed a bit coldly, something in his eyes far away, “I’d rather keep the bloody details to myself, if you wouldn’t mind.” He looked at Faust from the corner of his eye, tone reassuring, “purely for your own safety of course, plausible deniability and all that.”

Faust grit his teeth, but decided to let that particular battle die in favor of more pressing concerns, “how long have you been traveling with Eri?”

Anji straightened his posture and nodded briefly, “six months.”

“Ah, how taller has she grown in that time?”

“Not an inch.”

Faust nearly fell backwards from shock. Of all the things Gears were known for, rapid maturation and growth was foremost of them. Yet Eri looked no older than 7 years of age. “…stunted growth?” He muttered in disbelief, cold sweat on his brow. “In a Gear?”

“Another reason to come to you, specifically.” Anji answered plainly, his smile going flat and his gaze burning a hole in the wall in front of him. “I’m no medical expert, but something tells me those scars might have something to do with it.”

Faust gripped his table nearly hard enough to dent the metal, only barely keeping a grip on his control with a few deep breathes and a glass of water. Anji politely looking away just long enough for Faust to pull his mask up to drink.

After a moment, Faust walked towards Anji and finally took the seat he was offered next to him, sitting down heavily with his head in his hands and his knees drawn up to his ears.

Anji waited without a word, his eyes glued to the door his two girls had vanished behind, but Faust could still feel his gaze, somehow, boring a hole into him as well. Faust shook his head again and straightened up, looking down at Anji, “there was another wound, on her shoulder.” Faust stopped for a reaction, but only got a raised eyebrow, “it was fresher than the rest, what happened?”

“Why didn’t you ask Baiken?”

“It was a closed, clean wound, it was not my place to ask unprompted questions of my patients.” Faust explained tensely, “And I didn’t want to upset Eri besides,” that earned him an agreeing hum from Anji at last, “how did it happen?”

“A few opportunistic young men thought it a good way to earn a lot of money in a very short amount of time by throwing themselves at Baiken and myself,” Anji shrugged, though he stiffly looked away as he did, “…poor Eri got caught in the middle.”

“Assassins.” Faust bit out between his teeth, “Eri got caught in the middle of a fight you had with assassins.”

“She was kept safe the whole time.” Anji tossed straight back, finally meeting the doctor’s gaze again. “It ended well, like it always does, doctor.”

“You and I both know that’s a load of nonsense, Mr. Mito.” Anji’s eyebrows knitted together and his lips drew into a thin line. “Does Eri know how to defend herself?”

Anji laughed, utterly mirthless, “have you seen her? You want us to teach that girl how to fight?”

“Are you and Baiken going to change your lifestyle?” Faust forged on, his nerves on edge, flashes of a bloody surgical table and a horribly small body bag on his mind, “if not, are you simply going to continue to expose Eri to all this danger? Do you take her out on bounty hunting missions with you?” He nearly pressed his face to Anji, who simply stared at him stone faced, “that girl is completely dependent on you two, have you any concern for her safety?”

“Doctor.”

Anji Mito vanished.

In his place was a man with his face, but not his eyes. They were the same color and shape, but they suddenly threatened to swallow Faust whole with the sheer emptiness he saw there.

There was a hand on the collar of his shirt, pulling him along as the man that was not Anji Mito stood up from his chair. Not a trace of the flighty dancer remained, and in his place was the man that spent a significant period of his life hiding in shadows and whispers.

He spoke, and there was the hint of dried blood on his tongue as he did, “as you said, that girl is dependent on the two of us,” the man narrowed his cold, empty eyes, “be certain, we know that very well, knew it from the moment she came into our care.” The hand on his collar tightened its grip, “make no mistake, every effort we’ve made since then had been to ensure that she is safe, that she is happy.”

Finally, something filled those abyssal eyes, anger.

“That girl is everything we could have been, that girl has a future not yet stained with blood and secrets, eyes not yet worn and hollow, and I intend to make sure it stays that way.” He bared his teeth, and Faust felt like he was facing a dangerous animal, “so don’t you dare think for a moment that either of us would treat her callously.”

Finally, impossibly, Faust found his tongue, “you think you can protect her from everything?” He gripped the hand clenching his collar, “with the life you lead? Are you that delusional?”

“With all due respect,” the animal growled, something vicious and cruel crawling up his throat, “you are not the first person I’d ask regarding the safety of children,” his heart leapt into his throat, but the man kept going, “you are hardly the expert there, Doctor Baldhead.”

It took every inch of restraint he had, but somehow Faust kept from pulling a scalpel from his pocket to slice open the throat in front of him.

His point apparently made, the man that was not Anji Mito released Faust, and sat back down without a word to look at the door again. A few breathless moments passed as Faust looked down at him and got his breathing back under control, finally letting out a sigh, “…I will admit, my judgement is clouded from…past experiences,” he shook his head, “…but I stand by what I said, you can’t protect her forever.”

Another heavy moment passed, nearly crushing the both of them…before Anji Mito returned with a weightless laugh, “no, I suppose not.” He looked up at the doctor, a mirthless smirk on his face, “but we can protect her long enough to make a path for her to follow.”

Faust looked down at the man for a moment, shaking his head before beginning to walk to his desk, “what path would that be?” He reached his desk, and turned around to lean on it to look at Anji, “because from where I sit, there’s two.” He held up one finger, “one; she stays be your side, which means you need to teach her all she needs to know to be able to keep pace with you two.” He grits his teeth, “and all the bloody details that would include.”

Anji met Faust’s gaze evenly, but his hands gripped the cloth of his lap.

“And second,” he held up the second finger, “…is that you let her go, put her somewhere safe, where she would never need to raise a hand to harm anyone, that she would never need to protect herself again…” He stopped, something finally clicking to place, “…and never see you two again.”

On Anji Mito’s nearly inscrutable face, something like sadness passed for a brief moment. It was gone as soon as it appeared, and another paper smile took its place, “whatever path she’ll have, it will have to be her choice, wouldn’t you agree, doctor?” Another mirthless chuckle, “from what little I know of her life before we found her…she’s had enough of her life dictated for her, methinks.”

Faust sympathized with his nurse, because after that relatively short conversation with Anji Mito, he felt ready to curl into a ball and sleep the rest of the week away. He could have let that conversation end there, let himself end the day with at least a bit of sound mind, but something was eating at him, a question he knew he had no right to ask. That was utterly unprofessional of him to even consider asking.

But, then again, he’s been plenty unprofessional today, what’s a bit more?

Taking a breath to brace, he once more dunked his head into the shark tank that was Anji Mito’s headspace. “The person who gave Eri those scars…” He started, his grip on the table tightening, “…do you know anything about them?”

“Oh? Him?” Anji asked innocently, as if he hadn’t given that a thought in ages, “ah, I wouldn’t worry too much doctor.” The way he said that, and the smile it came with, only made Faust worry more, “last I saw of him, he was laying on a street somewhere, bleeding out of a hole between his eyes.”

Faust blinked at Anji, whatever tension and anger he gain from examining Eri deflating like a particularly sad whoopee cushion.

“I’d put him out of your head, doctor.” He turned to him with a smile as bright as a flickering florescent bulb, a hint of that emptiness back in his gaze, “I know I did.”

Before Faust could question-no, scratch that-call bullshit on that, the door to the examination room opened, revealing a slightly annoyed Baiken, a satisfied Fanny, and Eri still sucking on her lollipop.

“There they are!” Anji exclaimed, his cheer back on his face in full force, and Faust could even believe it was genuine this time, as he went to Baiken and Eri, “so! How did it go? Any sharp or metal things go into anywhere unpleasant?” He was rewarded with a smack upside the head from a very unamused Baiken, which only got a laugh out of him, “sorry, sorry, I couldn’t…” He stopped of a sudden, looking at Baiken’s face in confusion, and Faust took a second to see he was looking at Baiken’s mouth.

Or, more specifically, the small plastic stick hanging out of her mouth.

Anji blinked at her, “…what-?”

Baiken grabbed the stick, and pulled out a bright red lollipop.

“…how?”

“Eri gave it to me.” Baiken said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “said I earned it for being…” her mouth twitched to stop from becoming a smile, “…brave.”

Anji blinked in surprise, first at Baiken, and then at Eri, who nodded resolutely to show she was perfectly serious. After a moment, a smile slowly forming on his face, too slowly to be a conscious effort, and Anji laughed with more warmth than Faust had heard from him all day, “well! Can’t argue with that!” He bent down to look, and smile, at Eri at eye level. “Good call there Eri.”

The blinked before looking down with a bright blush. Baiken ruffled her hair while Anji grasped her shoulder.

And Faust understood the anger completely. Understood the insult of doubting these two.

But still, with a clear mind, he, as always, stood be his prognosis.

“Mr. Mito.” He called out, the man still leaning down as he turned to look at him, “I would like you to keep our conversation today in mind, alright?”

Anji, to his credit, only glared for a short second before he nodded, “of course, doctor.”

“Huh?” Eri looked between the two, “what did you talk about?”

“My own check up dear.” Anji lied smoothly as silk, “I set it a few months from now since I had one not too long ago,” he ruffled her hair again, “don’t worry about it.”

“…Okay.” Something shone in the girl’s eyes, but she went back to her treat with a quiet hum.

Anji stood up, met Baiken’s razor sharp gaze, and mouthed “later” silently before he turned to the doctor, “well! I think we’re all done for today!” He put a hand on Baiken’s shoulder to turn her towards the door, “say goodbye to the doctor Eri.”

Turning to Faust and Fanny, she waved goodbye in a way that made the doctor want to cry, before running to Baiken left side to grab her hand as they left.

Anji and Faust shared one last, slightly loaded stare before they stepped out the door.        

(Faust closed his practice earlier than usual that day. Fanny didn’t question it, or the way he fingered the bottom of his paper bag, or how stiff and deep his voice had gotten near the end of the day.

She helped him take his medicine, and he went to bed, images of not-himself standing above a perfectly clean surgery table, waiting for his next, his last, patient swirling in his mind as he slept.

Baiken slapped Anji upside the head. She didn’t know why, exactly, she just had the feeling he had earned it.

Anji didn’t argue with that.

Eri offered him her last lollipop, but he refused, he hadn’t been brave for a long while. He wanted to earn it properly.)

#Guilty Gear #Baiken #Anji Mito #Eri (bnha) #Stuff rex wrote #doctor visits

[hqbaby]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 | 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐬 (𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐱 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

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(written portion! you can find a summary at the bottom if you have difficulty or simply don't feel like reading large chunks of text<33 word count: 1066)

> new shoes

It should have been weird. It should have been weird that a boy who you’d only known for a day was asking about how you were in the midst of your boyfriend’s cheating controversy. It should have been weird that you answered him honestly and without any hesitation, unlike how you’d been answering everyone else’s questions. It should have been weird for him to say that he was coming over to sneak you out in the middle of the night like he was meant to, like it was his job to. And it should have been weird that you didn’t find it weird at all, that you changed into something more presentable, shoved your phone in your pocket, and waited on the steps in front of your house. It should have been weird… right?

And when Semi showed up, the look on his face told you that he was wondering the same thing. This should have been weird, so why wasn’t it?

You stood up and stared at him, eyes locking with his brown ones. “So where are you taking me?”

He rubbed the back of his forehead and grinned at you sheepishly. “Honestly, I didn’t really think this through,” he admitted. “I don’t really know why I even went to you in the first place. We’re barely more than strangers.”

Suddenly, Semi saw your expression shift from broken and forlorn to something that could only be described as filled with unbridled joy.

“So it’s an adventure!” you grinned, allowing yourself a moment to forget all about the problems that waited for you back in Tokyo. “I can handle an adventure.”

You linked your pinky with his and dragged him down the street saying something about how adventures should always start with ice cream. And Semi smiled.

For almost two hours, you wound through the streets of Miyagi, popping in and out of convenience stores to grab whatever treat caught either of your interests, struggling on playground sets that were obviously made for children two times smaller than you, and talking endlessly about anything and everything you could think of.

The entire night, Semi couldn’t help but think that this was the happiest you’d been in a while. And he wasn’t wrong.

“It’s closed,” you frowned as the two of you reached the music store that you had frequented when you less than famous and had to spend the little money you had to buy crappy instruments that could barely stay in tune for more than ten minutes.

You turned to leave but Semi, whose pinky was still linked with yours, held you back. You looked at him, confused, and found him grinning at you with a cocky eyebrow raised.

“We’re not breaking in,” you shook your head. “That’s just stupid, Semi.”

He laughed and reached into the pocket of his jeans. “Actually,” he said, pulling out a ring of keys and dangling them in front of you. “My family owns this store. We can go in at any time.”

You gaped at his pinky slipped from yours and he went to open the store doors. When the doors were unlocked, he looked at you and winked, ushering you inside.

“Damn, you sure know your way to a girl’s heart,” you mumbled, barely above a whisper. He heard you but decided that you probably didn’t mean much by it.

The store looked different from the last time you saw it. That wasn’t a surprise of course. You’d been gone for almost seven months already.

Your eyes landed on a guitar that you’d never seen before. It wasn’t anything special, just a regular acoustic guitar with an unvarnished walnut body and a simple ebony fretboard. You might not have seen it before but it felt familiar, it reminded you of home.

“Do you play?” Semi asked, noticing the guitar and picking it up to hand over to you.

You shook your head. “I can play a few chords but I mostly just asked my friends to play for me back when I was still going indie,” you explained. “The keys are more my thing.”

He nodded and went to return the guitar to where it belonged. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

“Play something for me.”

Semi looked back at you in confusion. “What?” he asked then chuckled. “I mean, I can. But I doubt you’d wanna hear that.”

Your frowned and shook her your head. “Of course I would,” you insisted. “Please?”

The boy sighed in defeat and sat down, placing the guitar on his lap. “Any requests?”

You closed your eyes and thought for a moment. Semi couldn’t help but smile at how serious you looked. After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked at him seriously. “Play me something you made.”

He could’ve said no. Really, he could’ve. He could’ve said that he wasn’t a musician and he didn’t make anything of his own and he knew that you would’ve believed him and told him to play something else instead. But he couldn’t lie to you, not when you were there, sitting in front of him and looking at him like that.

So he played.

You brought out your phone and started recording, wanting to remember every part of this night. Semi saw you do this and rolled his eyes playfully as you grinned.

Then, suddenly you heard what he was playing. You had never heard it before but, just like the guitar, it felt so familiar. It felt just like home. An ache in your chest slowly crept up through your lungs and stung through your throat, where it stopped and burned and suddenly you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold it back anymore no matter how hard you tried.

So you started to sing.

what good are these new shoes i bought if i can’t leave my room ‘cause he hasn’t called.

Semi looked at you and found that your eyes were closed and that tears were sliding down your cheeks, chest heaving with every sob that you held in. The sobs that you let out through your music.

woke up one morning and i realized all of my life has passed me by.

You opened your eyes and locked eyes with the setter-turned-midnight-guitarist and cracked a smile.

i’m only yours if you’re gonna be someone who’s good to me.

And Semi kept playing, understanding every word.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Semi and Y/N explore Miyagi and find themselves in a music shop in the middle of the night. Y/N convinces Semi to play the guitar and they end up making a song called "New Shoes" about the terrible relationship Y/N is currently in.

a/n: not much to say but i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. as always, this has been a blast<33

taglist: @phieaa @juriesss @yungkbri (if your name is in bold that means i can't tag you)

☏ 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬

#hqbaby.tiptoes #hqbaby #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyū!! #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyu x y/n #hq x you #hq x y/n #semi eita x reader #semi x reader #semi x you #semi x y/n #semi eita smau #semi smau #haikyuu smau #haikyu smau #hq smau

[diavohno]

Can i request 43 + lucifer?

note; hope yall didn’t think I’d forgotten you! I’m going to finish these requests, no doubt about it :) anyway, I hope you enjoy this little scene because I had a blast writing it. it’s clocking in at 1.2k words, which is a pretty solid amount

“Wait a minute... are you jealous?” + Lucifer

x   +   x   +

“Thanks, MC, you’re the best!” said Iros, a red-haired demon from your Summoning 101 class who always seemed to have a difficult time paying attention during instruction. More than once, you’d caught her doing the tell-tale head bob as if she was fighting a magnetic pull between her forehead and her desk, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that her grades weren’t looking too hot. She sent you a wink before twirling away, her uniform skirt fanning out behind her. In an afterthought, she called out to you over her shoulder, “See you for our study date!”

With that, she disappeared into the steady stream of students drifting from one class to another. You couldn’t help the sigh that puffed out through your noseー there was something about her that drained you. Maybe it was her ability? You’ve gathered that all demons have something about them that separates them from other demons, like how Mammon was exceptionally fast. 

Speaking of, the grubby bastard was late. The two of you typically walked to History of Devildom together, but he seemed to be running behind schedule today.

Who are you kidding, he probably ditched again. You’d have to scold him for not taking you with him later. For now, you’ll continue to be the good student that you weren’t and go to class by yourself. Your husbando (who wasn’t yet your husbando but you’ve been working diligently on changing that), Lucifer, would be so proud of you, you mused, mentally patting yourself on the back for your decision to do the bare minimum.

“I am not opposed to your fraternizing with the other students, but I must discourage you from forming relationships with succubi.” Speak of the devil! Lucifer’s voice cut through the muddled conversations of the passing students as the man himself emerged from a nearby classroom. “I cannot even begin to fathom the numbers of succubi who would use you as nothing more than a stepping stone to tarnish Lord Diavolo’s reputation.”

“Succubi?” you hummed, more to yourself than anything as you ponder his words. “That explains why she’s always hitting on me. Damn. Here I thought I was just an irresistible slab of meat, charming the pants off of strangers left and right.”

The slab of meat comment earned you a disdainful eye roll, but nothing more. “Well? You’re going to arrive after the start of class if you continue to stand there like a mindless sheep.”

“I know I called myself meat, but the ‘sheep’ thing doesn’t sit right with me, especially coming from you,” you said with a hint of a whine laced in your tone. Nonetheless, you set off toward your next class by your lonesome, only for Lucifer to stride along next to you. 

Instantly, the wheels in your head took off spinning. You knew for a FACT that whatever class he had was in the opposite direction, as you and Mammon often passed him in the halls, so what was he doing in this direction? Was he making sure you weren’t going to ditch? You’d take offense to the idea if it wasn’t something you’ve already done. After that one idea, your mind drew a blank.

Peeking at him out of the corner of your eye, you noticed how he seemed to be somewhat lost in thought, but not lost enough for him to miss where your attention was directed. He raised a dark brow at you, daring you to say something.

Never one to miss such a golden opportunity, you gave a saccharine smile and batted your lashes innocently. “Sorry, it’s hard not to stare at works of art.”

He blinked once. Twice. Then turned away. Your lips perked out in a pout at the fact that your obvious flirtation had failed to garner any response, although this would do little to dissuade you in the future; every now and then you swore you’d see the corners of his lips twitch up into a ghost of a smile.

Anyway, back to the drawing board. Why was it that Lucifer was accompanying you to your class? You’d better figure it out sooner than later because the two of you were turning down the hall that housed your classroom. Luckily, yours was on the other end.

Asking him would be no fun at all, so that was quickly ruled out as an option, and so was dismissing the noticeably odd behavior. Had he finally realized his everlasting love for you, and was currently mentally preparing himself to propose? A quick glance to you right quickly eliminated that theory. Then, what was it? 

Every step brought you closer to your destination, as well as added a tiny piece of disappointment to your ever-growing pile. Before you had the chance to prematurely sink into a slump of self-pity, your D.D.D. buzzed in your skirt pocket to notify you that you had received a message over chat.

It turned out to be a message from Iros. You should wear something nice when we meet up tonight. It’ll help me study better ;) Just reading it makes you snort in indignation.

You wish. As much of a shameless flirt as you could be, you couldn’t handle being on the receiving end of flirting. It most definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fact that your heart had locked its sights on a certain Tall, Dark, and Prideful who didn’t reciprocate your feelings. Subconsciously, your gaze drifted back toward Lucifer for what felt like the millionth time throughout this heartwarming little couple’s stroll. Oddly enough, he was fixing your D.D.D. with a steely glare.

“Uh, Lucy?” you asked slowly. No doubt about it, the man was acting weird. Maybe he had gotten food poisoning? That must be it! “Is something the matter?”

“I was unaware you and this succubi had gotten so close to one another,” he said, venom oozing from his voice. The spinning wheels in your head that had been working so tirelessly for the entirety of the past few minutes come to a screeching halt.

“Wait a minute…” How had you not seen it sooner? The answer was obvious. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head at the ludicrous thought. ”Are you jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped back instantly, but there was a certain look in his eye that made you sure he was lying. Your mouth curled into a cattish smirk as the two of you slowed to a stop outside of your classroom. It would seem that all of your flirting and waiting was finally paying off.

“Of course, of course,” you said, a melodic lilt woven into your words. With a sudden burst of courage that was even stronger than Beel, you took one of Lucifer’s gloved hands into your own and pressed a chaste kiss to it. Adrenaline pumping, you then flounced away as if you hadn’t just given THE Lucifer a good ol’ smack of your lips on his hand.

As expected, Lucifer lowly called out your name, subtly warning you to not walk away from him or else you’d be punished. How unlucky for him that the thought of him punishing you sent a shiver of pleasure along your spine. Looks like you’d have to let Iros know you wouldn’t be able to study after all, as you'd have your hands full with a certain irate demon.

You could hardly wait.

#obey me #obey me: shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #swd lucifer #swd obey me #request

[notalittlebutalottie]

KCBINGO2020 ( @klaroline-events ) - Snowed In

Two Night Stand (Fusion AU)

Caroline was about to make the perfect getaway. When Katherine had ‘sexiled’ her into signing up for a dating site, the ‘morning after escape’ was the furthest thing from her mind. She finally thought she was in the clear having left a ‘goodbye’ note on his fridge, but the moment she twisted the doorknob, the alarm next to his front door came beeping the countdown.

“Shit shit shit,” she muttered, spinning on her heel. She rushed to untack the note, crumpling it up into a ball that she dropped into the trashcan beside the fridge. Her tired legs carried her quickly back to the bed and she crashed under the covers just in time for the security alarm to scream out.

Caroline feigned a light snore, shutting her eyes tight as the body next to her jolted up. His name was Klaus and he was a frustratingly good time in bed. Over their messages, he was cocky, even more so when they shared a short video call to ensure he wasn’t a ‘sex obsessed serial killer’, but it was absolutely warranted.

Klaus hauled himself up off the bed and twisted his body to view her. His throat was dry, the ragged sound of his voice ever-appealing, “Did you sleep with your coat on, sweetheart?” He squinted her way, his shirtless frame standing over the bed.

“Uh-” Caroline grimaced, but made her best excuse, “I get cold?” She widened her eyes and pointed in the direction of his kitchen. “Just get the intruder!”

He nodded absentmindedly and dragged his feet along out of the bedroom. With a few beeps, the alarm was silenced. When he returned, she tried her best to act natural, pretending that she was tying up her (already tied) shoe.

“False alarm,” he murmured and proceeded to slump onto the bed.

“That’s so weird,” Caroline whispered, her pitch high. She stretched her hands against one another and winced. “It’s a bummer that it woke us up, but I should get going.”

Klaus tilted his head towards her and his lips spread into a closed grin. “Is that so?”

“Mhm…” She nodded slowly, avoiding his gaze. “I had a blast so thank you for…having me.”

“You’re very welcome.” He slinked off the bed and rounded the end of it to meet her. “Would you like to stay for breakfast…or do you usually leave before?”

Her face twisted in confusion. “Usually? I don’t- This isn’t something I do.” She folded her arms before adding, “This is my FIRST time, in fact, sleeping with a stranger like this.”

“Of course,” he replied innocently, throwing his hands up, but smirked. “But it’s nothing to be ashamed of, love. We all have one night stands.”

“Well, I don’t,” Caroline spat and her face fell sombre. “I’m just-”

He was quick to finish her words, his eyelashes batting, “Working through some feelings, correct?”

“Exactly!” She presented a wide, but irritated smile, her arms swinging out before she poked a finger against his chest. “But you are giving me the BIGGEST judgy vibes when this,” she gestured between them, “was a team effort.”

“I swear that I pass no judgement,” he rose both hands in defence. “I think it’s very attractive that you took the lead.”

If he had expected her to be flattered, he was sorely mistaken. She bit out, “Are you implying I’m a slut?”

His eyes went wide. “Absolutely not!” Though his face had been apologetic, his lips soon stretched into a smirk. “You...are just a girl who came over to a stranger’s house at midnight and had sex with him…” he looked away thoughtfully, “if only I could place a word for it.”

“Wow!” she gave a humourless exclamation, throwing her head back. She moved past him, storming her way to the front door. “Screw you!”

Klaus followed behind closely, his pained expression of no concern to her. “I apologise. I was only joking.”

Caroline spun towards him as she came to the door, her hair nearly slapping him. “You are the one who invited me! Remember?”

“Hm, well, we’ll agree to disagree,” he murmured and tilted his head side to side. He then dismissively waved his hand. “It’s all irrelevant in any case.” When her expression of disdain refused to cease, his face softened. With a charming smile, he took a step forward and implored her, “Come on, love, stay and I’ll make you perhaps the finest breakfast of one night stands.”

“I’ll pass. Maybe save that for another girl,” Caroline replied bitterly, tightly wrapping her arms inward. She performed a smile and readied her hand on the doorknob. “Have a nice life!”

“Caroline,” he called with an outstretched hand, “I had no intention of upsetting you.”

“But you did, Klaus.” Her eyes pierced him and she soon scoffed, “Klaus? What is that? It sounds like the name of an old man! And you’re judging me?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, resting a hand in the pocket of his pyjama pants. “Well, it comes from Niklaus.”

Her eyes flared and she gestured wildly. “Oh, that’s SO much better!”

“Let’s not be petty, love,” he sighed, rubbing his neck.

“Huh! Petty!” she said with exasperation. With a firm voice, she huffed, “Fuck you.”

“Alright,” Klaus relented, a humorous drawl coming from him, “fuck you too, Caroline.”

Caroline’s jaw set tightly at his reply and she took her cue to leave. After slamming the door behind her, she bounded down the stairwell. It was freezing and she was certainly regretting her choice of jacket.

When she finally made it to the exit, she intended to push down on the handle and stomp her way along the snowy streets of New York, but her body collided with the door and…nope.

“Ow, shit!” Caroline gasped, the thud of the collision ringing out. With darting eyes, she attempted another push and peeked out of the frosted window to find a tall barricade of snow. “No, this is not happening..”

“Trouble?”

She shivered at the sensuous, familiar voice, turning to see him on the step with a basket full of laundry.

“The door’s stuck,” she grumbled with a flick of her wrist.

“You’ve never dealt with a little snow before?” Klaus’ eyebrows rose in amusement. He placed the basket on the floor and stepped up. “I’ll give it a go.”

Caroline moved aside and tapped her finger against her elbow as he made his own attempts. He shouldered up against the door, a few thuds making their predicament clear.

Klaus slowly turned towards her and hummed, “Seems as though we’ll be stuck here for some time, sweetheart.”

Caroline felt pulled to look into his charming blue eyes, pursing her lips. “I guess so.”

#kcbingo2020 #klaroline #klaus and caroline #the vampire diaries #the originals #kcedit #manip #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #two night stand #analeigh tipton #miles teller #romance #drabble #also I believe that's a second bingo? #au fusion

[auxiliarydetective]

Writer's Month - Day 10: sunshine | aged up/deaged

Another fandom? Yes. Another OC? Yes. Do I regret this? Yes. Will I apologize. No. It's too late for that. Time for some cringe, because this is based off an anime. Namely One Piece. What you need to know for this story is that my OC (Inari) has an ability that's based off a master-servant relationship. Basically, Inari always has a master. She has to obey their every command and, in return, gets powers related to their personality or own powers and abilities. Her allegiance/her master changes whenever someone defeats her old master or she is saved from death by someone, leading that person to become her new master.

Okay, have fun. Don't die from the cringe.

Inari stretched and let the sun shine down on her face. It was a lovely day in the New World, even if it had been somewhat chaotic. First the volcanic ashes raining down and now this stranger that Luffy had decided to pick up… Hopefully he was at least nice. A sudden crash coming from the kitchen ripped Inari out of her thoughts. “I’ll go check it out”, she called to Franky, who was standing at the helm. She jumped up and sprinted across the ship, to the kitchen, almost bumping into Zoro and Sanji in the doorway. The door and wall segment of Sick Bay had been blasted apart and Luffy was laying on the floor in the rubble, getting up. The stranger had woken up. He stood where the door once had been with his gigantic mechanical arm, standing at double an average person’s height, looking menacing as ever. “Nami-san, go outside”, Sanji told Nami. Nami nodded, visibly happy to get out of there. “Take care of it, please”, she said, then hurried out. “Straw Hat Luffy”, the stranger said menacingly, walking slowly towards Luffy. “Why are you a pirate?” Luffy grinned. “To become the Pirate King”, he said with pride. The stranger’s mechanical arm made an intimidating wind-up sound as he clenched its large fist. “Pirate King… Pirate King?!” Suddenly, he hurled his fist down on Luffy, who was narrowly able to escape. Zoro and Sanji, being the number two and three fighters of the crew, charged at the stranger in defence of their captain. Inari rushed after them, seeing it as her duty, even if her allegiance currently did not lay with any of them. Angrily, the stranger ripped the dinner table out of its place and hurled it away while Luffy was still standing on it, almost sending him flying into the stove. “Get out, everyone!”, Inari called to the rest of the crew. “We’ll handle this!” Just then, Sanji landed the first hit, as evidenced by a loud bang. But the stranger managed to block his attack and throw him away since Sanji’s foot had gotten stuck in one of the parts of his mechanical arm. Luckily, Sanji landed safely and skillfully on his feet. Then, Zoro stormed at the man, drawing his sword. A sharp, metallic clang cut through the air as it clashed against the large metal arm. The stranger blocked the attack, prompting Zoro to jump out of the way of his punch. Now it was Luffy’s time to attack. He managed to get only two punches in before being knocked away by a kick in the stomach. Inari watched closely from cover behind the overturned dinner table, unsure of what to do. “He’s strong”, she gasped. Never since their encounter with Kuma two years ago had she seen someone who had been able to hold their own against all three members of the “Monster Trio” of Luffy, Zoro and Sanji. “Be careful, Inari-san”, Sanji warned her. Quickly, he jumped into an attack from behind. But this backfired horribly on him as he was thrown right back, crashing into the ladder that led up to the balcony. Zoro attempted the same right after, but was also blocked. Then, he charged right at the stranger, only to be grabbed and slammed into the ground, leaving him winded. Inari gasped for air. Zoro usually took many more hits before showing even the slightest sign of damage. Luffy tried taking revenge, but was blocked off. Angrily, Inari threw a jet of water at the stranger’s chest to throw him off balance. This did practically nothing. It was like fighting a fire with a water pistol. But at least it distracted him and gave Zoro the time he needed to get on his feet. “Damn you, Z!”, Luffy yelled before charging into action once again. “Z…”, Inari whispered. The name branded itself into her skull. Steadily, the four of them kept attacking this Z. If this was going to be an endurance battle, so be it! He could not hold up against all of them forever. Suddenly, something large bumped into the ship. Z grinned. “They’re here.” A cold shower ran down Inari’s spine. More attackers? If they were on his level, the other six crew members would not be able to hold even one of them off for long. Inari drew her war fans and charged into close combat like her peers.

Even if her attacks were not leaving a scratch, the least she could do was try. Finally, they got a minute to breathe as they were able to knock Z back together. “Things are getting bad out there as well”, Sanji remarked. Really, there was shouting coming from outside. It did not sound like much, but Inari knew to trust his extensively trained senses. “Let’s end this now, everyone!”, Luffy decided. They charged at Z with new energy, doing the best they could in this small space while also trying not to destroy more things. Suddenly, Inari found herself face to face with Z, his giant mechanical fist slamming down towards her. Just before it could crack open her skull, she felt herself being grabbed by the waist and pulled out of danger. She felt the flurry under her skin of her allegiance changing. It may sound hard to believe, but she could feel her powers switching, the symbol on her left arm being warped into a different shape and her hair and eyes changing color. “Are you okay, Inari-san?”, Sanji asked worriedly, setting her down on her feet. “Yeah, I’m fine”, Inari said quickly. She knew that, every time her allegiance changed, it meant she had just narrowly been saved from death. Even though this had happened countless times already, it still gave her shivers every time it happened. She took a deep breath and the fear was out of her system. Behind them, Zoro tumbled across the floor, catching himself after another attack. He cursed and charged forward again. “Go outside and help the others”, Sanji said to Inari. “He’s not an enemy for you.” Inari could already feel her body getting ready to move to the door by itself. That had been an order. She nodded, smiled and sprinted for the door, dodging the splinters that were shooting from the dinner table splintering apart.

When she stepped on deck, she was greeted by a frightening sight. They were surrounded by large warships. On the grass stood a man in a weird ninja-like costume, doing a weird dance. Squiggling and tightening in his rhythm were vines that were squeezing the air out of Usopp, Franky and Brook, even if the latter did not possess lungs in the first place. There was also a woman with blue hair in a cape, presenting purple flames in her hand. But what confused her more was what was further away from her: Robin had shrunk, seeing as her sweater was now too big for her, and looked significantly younger. But Nami had turned into a kid and was completely sunken in her coat. And Chopper… Chopper was tiny. He looked like a tiny plush figure one might win at a price counter, with large eyes, a large head and a small body. “Inari!”, Chopper screamed, his voice even more high-pitched than usual. “You have to defeat her from afar! Don’t come down here!” Inari furrowed her brows and nodded. She took on a combative position, slashing her fans at the strange caped woman. Blades of air rushed at her opponent. Her first strike hit, as did the second and third, drawing the woman closer to the middle of the mast. The strange man continued his dance, aggressively chanting “Mosa! Mosa!” At his commands, vines wound themselves towards Inari, but they fell victim to her bladed fan. However, this made her lose her focus on the woman, who shot a ball of her purple fire at her. Inari was able to catch the ball in a gust of wind and divert it. Suddenly, a loud noise erupted behind her. She whirled around, just in time to be simultaneously hit by a ball of purple fire and hurled away by the shock wave of an explosion that tore apart the entire floor the kitchen was one. She shot backwards through the air and crashed into the mast, losing consciousness. When she landed on the floor beneath, between Sanji and Zoro, who had also been knocked away by the explosion, she had shrunk significantly in size. The jumpsuit that had once been short now almost fit her entire body. Her tattoo covered not only her wrist but almost the entirety of her forearm. During the bombing that followed, Inari did not move an inch. She woke up only hours later in her bed, with a throbbing pain in her head and the body of a six-year-old. Her room looked gigantic now. When she stepped out onto the deck, she collapsed to her knees. Everything was damaged or even fully destroyed. Their beautiful ship… “Oh, Sunny…”, Inari whispered. “What are we going to do now?”

#one piece #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #one piece nami #vinsmoke sanji #usopp #tony chopper #nico robin #franky #soul king brook #one piece oc #fanfiction #writersmonth2021

[damn-stark]

All That’s Left ch.10

Star Wars Au

A/N- We’re close to the end with this series :( hope you guys like this chapter...let me know what you thought?!

Warning- violence, swearing, ANGST, fluff, Poe, long chapter

Pairing- Poe Dameron x reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*A couple weeks later*

Base was just a hours away now, it was unbelievable that life had come to this point, that in a couple days or hours life would just come to a stop. No more need to worry about what might be lurking or what you were going to find to keep surviving. No more past trauma haunting you—and maybe that was better, having nothing to worry about, that was one con to this giving your life for the greater good.

But there was only one thing that held you back. One person. Poe fucking Dameron. Maybe Ben had been right about attachments.

They were wrong.

Just like these stupid ugly infected corpses that roamed this whole planet and galaxy. Good thing that soon and hopefully no more of them would be made. Soon whatever virus that turns them was going to gone. For now though their was no other choice but to fight them.

Slowly you begin to pull out the twin vibroblades sheathed on your back, dragging your eye to follow the swift movements that happened above the trees, hearing the branches snap and rustle, seeing the snow that covered them fall to the ground with a soft thump. From the corner of your eye watching as Ben began to activate his lightsaber, the blue hue drowned out by the sun that reflected on the snow, a white sparkly glow like diamonds reflecting off and blinding you if one looked too long. Unluckily not blinding the demons that jumped from tree to tree, snapping their jaws and dropping to the ground, trying to feel any vibration either of you could possibly do to give away your positions.

Luckily not being able to hear your heavy breaths as a tall and pale one crept in front of you, it’s red eye almost seeming to search your soul like if it wanted to hear or feel your heart thumping inside your chest. Unable to hear your saliva drag drown your throat or see your arm swiftly swinging up to slice half of its face, a loud blood-curdling screech sounding from it after the sharp impact. The blood it had on it’s jaw and on its lips flying and hitting your face.

Disgusting.

“Move!” Ben ordered sharply and without waiting for him to repeat himself you spin to the side, seeing the blue raging blade swing upwards and cut the demon in half. You yourself finding no rest as another demon surprised you by jumping off the tree and landing in front of you, feeling the movement of your frientened jump to quickly grip onto your throat and lift you onto the air, screeching like the one before and slamming you back to ground. A loud groan leaving your lips at the sudden impact, hearing someone’s voice call out to you as you saw stars dancing in front of you as your mind and body wanted to black out into unconsciousness. The second screech from the demon preventing you from doing such a thing and helping you by reaching down in a difficult movement to able to reach your blaster, feeling the cold material touch your fingertips as you wrapped them around the handle, quickly pulling it out and blasting the demon in the head. It didn’t do any damage, only caused it to stagger back, it’s hand leaving your throat and freeing you so you could crawl backwards.

Hastily having to pick up your vibroblades back up and ignore your friends that each struggled with their one infected, keeping either one from coming to your aid.

You inhale sharply and wobbled to stand to your feet, seeing the demon come rushing towards you in a quick speed—you breath out and run towards it, when it was just inches away you let your body slide beneath the demon that swung its arms to try and grab you again, raising your blades and cutting its body as it flew overhead, it’s blood raining down on you until it was out of reach and stumbled forward. And as you turned to finish fighting the dreadful thing, Rey came up from behind it and lifted her arms to impale the demons head, the thing once and for all dropping limp to the ground.

“Are you okay?” Rey breathed, her eyes scanning the blood that now covered you.

You nod slowly, “never better.”

Rey smiled, her next words cut off as Poe rushed to your side, his hands grabbing your shoulders not caring about the blood that covered you whole. “What happened? Are you bit?”

You shake your head and sigh in relief. “Immune, remember?”

“Right.” Poe’s hands left your body and he wiped the blood off on the only clean spot on your shirt, seeing as Finn, Chewie and Ben finally came around, the little droid coming out of hiding and joining Poe’s side.

“Hey, y/n,” Finn called out as he walked over, a smug smile pulling on his lips, “you’ve got a little something on your face.”

You turn your head and shoot him a feigned smile, “oh really? I didn’t know, thank you for pointing it out.”

“Yeah, no problem, anytime.”

Poe began to chuckle and you quickly snapped your head his way and shot him a glare that instantly shut him up. He shrugged innocently and watched you walk away with Rey before he gave Finn a high five and laughed again, adding a comment Finn and Chewbacca laughed at as they watched you walk away, “nice one.”

——

Once you had finally managed to clean all the blood off you; hours after you might add, you changed into a new set of clothes and joined the group looking as decent as you could manage to pull off. After all being in a forest doesn’t provide the best resources to keep one clean as when you were back at that one community with that strange women. Who after weeks of leaving still left you weirded out.

“You know it’s good we left when we did, that camp, Haven, didn’t give me good vibes, I felt like that girl Amber was going to like kidnap me and then kill me or something.” You reveal as you throw the wood into the makeshift fire pit, noticing Finns face scrunch up at your comment.

“It’s not true,” he quickly defended, “they aren’t like that, they were actually nice, they offered us a place to stay, food, a shelter.”

“You’ve said that already bud.” Poe interjects with a smirk on his face, passing by Finn and patting his shoulder.

Finn shrugged and just shot a glare to Poe, his attention flying to Rey’s funny quip. “You’re just saying that because of Jannah.” She giggled, “one dinner and she’s got you in a mess. Are you sure she didn’t do something to your meal?”

You snort and playfully push Rey’s shoulder with your own and start poking fun at Finn along with her. “Don’t worry man you’ll see her again.”

Finn huffed and shook his head, “it’s not like that. She was actually a part of the first order, a stormtrooper just like me.”

“Okay.” You nod, hiding your grin, “I’m sure it’s just that.”

“Hey don’t you have some more wood to go look for so we don’t, I don’t know freeze to death?” Finn changed the subject in an exaggerated way.

You stroke your jaw and pretend to think, “nope I don’t think so, I think I’m liking this job better.”

Finn feigned a laugh and again shook his head in disapproval. “Oh, you know I think Poe needs help, go help him instead.”

Your smile widens and you touch your heart, pretending to be hurt by him wanting you to leave. “I just want to bond with you Finn, come on.”

“I think I prefer the quiet you instead.”

You begin to walk backwards towards Poe and just shoot Finn a cheeky smile, seeing his frown before he turned his back towards you and continued preparing whatever it was he was trying to do with the food Amber and her community had given you before you left. Was it going to be a mess? That still had yet to be determined—however the outcome and unbeknownst to him, sending you away to Poe was a blessing, and once you’re out of sight you spin around and speed up to catch up to Poe, snaking one arm around his waist and take advantage that Ben and Chewbacca were away for a moment and that the rest of the group was busy preparing for the night; “hey, stranger.”

Poe smiled and wrapped his own arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and placing a kiss on the side of your head. “Hey, beautiful.”

BB8 chirps beside Poe, his head poking out and watching you and him, a silence overcoming before seconds later he let a cascade of multiple chirps out, questioning the current relationship statues of his owner and you. The cheeky pilot quick to assure his questions. “Yeah, yeah, we’re together, but you can’t tell Ben, okay? Promise me you won’t BB8.”

BB8 agrees to Poe’s promise, assuring your own mind and Poe’s alike, his lips pressing another kiss on the side of your head, making you rest your head on his shoulder.

“You know it’s been a couple weeks since we’ve been alone together.” You point out.

Poe huffs out in amusement, his eyes shifting to BB8 before they look ahead again. “Won’t say we’re alone now, but yeah I know. I’ve missed you, secret glances were just not doing it for me anymore.”

You chuckle and pull away once you spot a pile of branches ahead of you, only to be pushed to the side before you could dare and pick them up. A small sigh leaving your lips at the sight of Poe picking them up and not letting you help...like you were supposed to.

“Are you sure you’re doing okay Poe?” You question shortly after.

Said man nods and stands back up with a pile of branches in his arms, “yeah, nothing to worry about sweetheart.” He continues walking to look for more, while BB8 and you continue following, seeing a mischievous smirk tug on his lips. “You know I think we were assigned together for early patrol tomorrow.”

You scoff and shake your head before you shove your hands in your pocket. “I don’t think so. As good friends as Ben and I are now, and he and you are, I still don’t think he’d dare put us together. Especially not after what happened at Camp with Admiral Haldo.”

“Maybe Ben doesn’t have to know.” Poe suggests. “Come on, you said it. We haven’t been alone together and tomorrow we can finally have that before we have to join the group again.”

There wasn’t a need to think about it that hard, you wanted to, the only problem holding you back was Ben, but that shouldn’t matter. Plus it’s not like you were going to be gone for a long time, it was just going to be a quick patrol.

“Fine, but no messing around. I can’t have you distracting me or else that short patrol will turn to an all day thing.” Another pile of branches comes to view and Poe hands you the ones he was carry so he could carry the new ones. His smile clear and his chuckle soft.

“Short patrol? Okay if that’s what you want then that’s what you’ll get.”

You skipped ahead to be able to turn around and face him, walking backwards to point an accusing finger at him. “I’m being serious, Dameron, no messing around.”

Poe licked his lips and stayed silent to pretend to think, his eyes drifting to his droid, remembering that he indeed did have an audience; “Hmm, fine.” He smirked, “no...messing around.”

You narrowed your gaze and all he did was flash you a charming smile, noticing that you had unfortunately already made it back to your small camp, walking a bit faster as you stopped to turn around and face your friends, his lips coming by your ear as he passed by you to say what he really meant. “It’ll be quick I promise.” He pulled away and again just flashed you that same smile. “Tomorrow early morning, don't forget.” He directed to you in a louder voice, catching Finn’s curiosity and pressing on the matter.

“What’s happening tomorrow morning?”

You smiled and were quick to dismiss his curiosity. “Nothing. Just patrol.” You looked to Poe one last time and ignored Rey’s knowing look. “I won’t forget, how about you don’t.”

Poe grinned and threw the branches in the makeshift fire pit. “Trust me I won’t.”

——

“How does it feel?” The cold but recognizable voice asked, Rens scared body walking out of the forest with blood pouring from his wound and Ben’s lightsaber still in his wound. “To be a killer? To be just like the people you escaped from?”

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut, mumbling ‘no’ under your breath repeatedly before opening them in hopes for all of it to disappear, the light greeting you again making you feel otherwise, the dead man standing there in all his glory. Stiff and bleeding, your heart racing at an incredible speed out of pure fear—“I didn’t mean to.” You whisper, beginning to walk back as Ren walked forward, the red lightsaber he carried ignited in his hand and pointed at you.

“Killer.”

Ren keeps walking forward and for every step he takes, you take one back, hearing and feeling your chest rise and fall rapidly with each shallow breath. Coming only to a stop once your back came into impact with something hard. You gulp and slowly look over your shoulder to see Poe standing there, a deep frown decorating his features and a narrowed gaze directed at you; “how could you do it? You’re just like them.”

You swallow thickly and shake your head, “I didn’t mean to, I was just trying to save Ben.”

“Killer.” Ren interjected sharply, still making his way to you, the blue saber in his wound, and the red saber in his hand. “Killer”

“Y/N.”

“Poe please believe me.” You plead, his eyes cold and unforgiving, blinking as he turned his head away from you, focusing on the fresh snow on the ground and not wanting to hear another word. Letting Rens lightsaber blade approach until it came to contact with your skin, his mouth repeating the same word in the sharp and cold-chilling voice. A scream wanting to leave your lips until….you’re shook away.

“Y/N.” Your eyes fly open and you sit up rapidly, feeling thick sweat beads roll down your forehead and hearing the same shallow breaths from the nightmare. Hearing the same soft and concerned voice from mere seconds ago. “Hey, are you okay?”

Your head shifts to meet the voice, barely managing to make out Poe’s face with the darkness of the night still taking over the scenery outside the thin material of the tent. Hearing your saliva go down your throat as you swallowed thickly and let your eyes search behind him, noticing nothing but the same tent you were in before. Seeing your eyes search behind him he moved to be once again in your phearphial view, his eyebrows knotting in concern and not unraveling even if you offered an assuring nod.

“You sure?”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of your lips and you nod once again, “just a nightmare, I’m fine really.”

Poe hesitated to move on, but he took your word and threw your warm covers off your body to then show a charming smile. “Well it’s time to go on patrol.”

You rub your eyes and feel your breathing return to normal, “it’s still dark out, you said earl morning.”

Poe shrugged nonchalantly, “yeah, and? Shoot me I just want to spend more time with girlfriend.” You sigh and roll your eyes, your lazy response letting him continue, “no, but really I just want to take you somewhere before the sun rises.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere.” He smirked, leaning in press a short kiss, pulling away to offer a more mischievous smile. “Hurry get ready we don’t have a lot of time.” He grabs your shirt and hands it to you, watching you put it on with that same smile on his lips. “I might be great at undressing you, but I’ve never tried it the other way around. Maybe I can try today?”

“Hmm, nope.” He hands you your pants and shoes and just frowns, turning away and peeking his head out of the tent flaps to check if anyone else had been awake, whispering that the ghost was clear to make his quiet escape and wait until you finally went out after finishing with what you needed. Quietly making you follow him until you were out of earshot and view just in case anyone were to wake up at the wrong time and catch you. The main one being Ben.

“Come on I want to show you something.” Poe grabs your hand and begins pulling you deeper into the forest and more uphill, the snow tracking on your boots and leaving behind two sets of deep footprints—Maybe it was something to worry about since anyone could easily track you, but he didn’t have a care in the world, he just kept pulling you with him for a moment that seemed like hours. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I took a walk to clear my mind and I came across this.”

“Poe Dameron I’ve seen movies, especially those about men like you taking girls like me to forests and the girls never come out.”

Poe looked over his shoulder to show you his amused smile, shaking his head in disapproval to your comment. Adding nothing else but that as he continued walking ahead, ducking branches and climbing over fallen trees. Keeping quiet for the rest of the walk, only briefly sparing glances behind his shoulder to make sure you were still doing okay. Which you were, only all this walking was a torture; “you really walked all this in the middle of the night? Why didn’t you tell me to come with you?”

Poe hesitated to answer, his shoulder visibly stiffening and his eyes glued on his planned out path ahead, only responding when you caught his attention by saying his name out loud. “It was nothing, I just wanted to clear my mind, really nothing to worry about and plus you'd finally gone to sleep, I didn’t want to disturb you”

You shrug, “you know I don’t mind, plus would’ve given me time to talk to you.”

“About?”

“What’s clearly on your mind.”

Poe scratched the back of his head and just walked past more trees until an opening came to view, your comment clearly being left out in the air with no indication that he was going to follow up.

“We’re here.” Poe grinned, stopping a few feet away from the edge, looking over his shoulder to watch as you caught up to stand beside him, once again grabbing your hand to interlace it with his, the same happy warm gleam in his eyes as he would show you many times before. “The resistance base is down there, I didn’t know you could see it from here. From afar it looks somewhat beautiful especially with all that snow covering it.”

You look down at what he points to just passing some tree line, spotting a small town where his base had taken up residence, man made walls surrounding the small area as trees surrounded the base making it harder for any lurkers or invaders to see what’s in between. From the cold darkness of the night the lights from so far up above twinkled in a beautiful way, giving away the location.

The lights soon tuning when the break of dawn began to rise over the horizon, the soft yellow lights of the sun peeking out and making the snow look like shining crystals. Illuminating the fighter ships not covered by hangers, dirt made streets and buildings that as he said were most likely full of “war shit”. It was truly breathtaking and now you understood why Poe had been in a rush to get you up here so early in the morning.

Poe gave your hand a assuring squeeze before he began to speak in an admirably happy tone that made you begin to feel sad. “When we get there I can show you my X-wing, it’s black and orange a one of a kind beauty. I rebuilt most of it myself so you know it’s fast.” He laughed softly, continuing to ramble, “we can go on a fly, I can take you out of the atmosphere and show you what this galaxy has to offer.”

A smile regardless couldn’t help but tug gently on your lips at the sound of his excitement. “Poe your fighter only fits one person.”

“So?” Poe shrugs nonchalantly, “we can fit.”

You shake your head and laugh lightly, unable to keep him from rambling some more. “And I can ask General Organa to give me a couple free days so we can spend them together, just the two of us. I know she’ll accept if I ask.”

You sigh and pull your hand away, feeling the tears sting your eyes at the thought of what he wanted to do, talked like you didn’t have to worry. “Poe.” You whisper, his attention turning to you and almost instantly seeing his smile drop at the sight of your frown.

“I know what you’re going to say and I-I do know what’s going to happen to you, but just let me have this, okay?”

He tries to grab your shoulders, but you pull away, looking to the ground for a moment to collect what you needed to say to him; “maybe, I think it’s good if we end things here.”

Poe blinks, “why?”

“Because this was just supposed to be short, just for fun until we got to base, and we're almost there, we're basically there. I don’t want to keep stringing you along, you don’t deserve that”

Poe exhales deeply and puts his hands on his hips, nodding but not agreeing. “Fun? It was fun, the sneaking around, sneaking you glances, waiting for people not to see ya to kiss you, the sex, but it soon turned to something else. Something more.”

He promised.

“Poe don’t.”

He approaches you and you step back, his hands quick to grab yours to pull you towards him, cupping your cheeks to make sure you would stay close and listen to his every meaningful word. “I love you. I’ve been wanting to say it for so long, you don’t know how good it feels to finally say it,” he gently caresses your cheeks and shows you a softer smile than the one before, his eyes showing the love he just confessed. “I love you and I know I promised not to say it, but I have to, I love you.”

You inhale shakily and cradle one of his cheeks, gently stroking it with your thumb, feeling your own tears stream down your cheeks before leaning in to press one long and passionate kiss on his lips, waiting a moment with your lips pressed against his before you pulled away and stayed close, not looking up to meet his gaze but knowing he was listening. “You were the best the thing to happen to me, Poe, never forget that.” Finally and completely breaking away from his grasp, you swiftly turn around to walk away in a hurry, the tears blinding your line of sight while your mind blocked him calling out to you.

You wanted to say it back, but you couldn’t let yourself, it would hurt. Not like it didn’t hurt now regardless of the confession you didn’t say out loud—and maybe the smarter choice to avoid running into him before you could get back to your group was take another path, but you were too scared to get lost, the forest was too big, knowing yourself it would happen, so the right path was—

“Oof,” at the sudden impact of your chest bumping into something hard yet soft at the same time you have to stop and look up to see what you had ran into, seeing Ben now in front of you, an expressionless look painted all over his face. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”

Were you really this close to your group already?

Ben stayed quiet, his gaze fixated on you before he caught movement behind you, seeing Poe come out of the woods, sounding a little out breath and looking confused and sad, his eyes widening when Ben and you came into sight.

“Ben.” Poe breathed out.

“Ben, what's going on?” You asked after a minute of awkward silence.

Ben’s eyes shifted from Poe and to you, a scowl slowly showing on his serious demeanor. “I’ve let it go on for awhile now, the thing you two have going on.” You swallowed thickly at his words and heard Poe suck air in through his teeth, neither of you saying or giving more than that reaction. “Because I thought that Poe was going to convince you to take you to the first order where you would have a chance to be saved,” Ben sighed and walked towards you, one hand going to his lightsaber hilt at his side and the other clenching into a fist for a second, “but I was wrong. I let you break the simple rules I gave you and I let the both of you think I didn’t know. But you two are too obvious, I should’ve gone with my instincts, at least then whatever morals Poe shared with you wouldn’t stick.”

Poe stepped forward, noticing Ben’s anger, to try and pull you behind him, the force of you pulling your arm away surprising him, cutting off what he was going to argue. “What I want to do, where I want to go is the right thing. Like I told Poe before, you have to respect my decision. This isn’t your choice to make and I should have never let you think you had this control over me, but I let myself get manipulated. Not anymore. I’m doing this. And I don’t care that I was with Poe. And maybe you were right about attachment, but after so much time of being alone, you’ll understand that it’s hard to not fall in love with someone who truly cares for you.”

Poe’s attention immediately snapped to you at the sound of your last words, the doubt that you didn’t love him like he loved you had already spread in his mind like poison. But at the moment you uttered those words he felt relief, like a weight lifted from his chest. Even if the way you announced your true feelings wasn’t how he would've liked it, he appreciated it. In fact he wanted to kiss you and hug you, but he knew like you that it was going to have to wait for later. After Ben didn’t look as angry.

“My father died for you! Because he saved you!” Ben bellowed. “You owe him this. Just like you owe your sister to keep living, so whatever game you’re trying to play, don’t.”

“I’m not playing any games.” You shot back, nervously standing your ground as he still kept coming at you, stopping a few inches away from Poe with his lightsaber now in his hand. “I’m doing the right thing. We are, don’t forget that.”

Ben gulped and offered you a short nod as he clenched his jaw; “I am doing the right thing. By you.” His hardened gaze shifted to Poe and he ignited his lightsaber, a gasp escaped from both Poe and you at the sight of the blue hue, the tip pointing to Poe before Ben grabbed your hand and forcefully pulled you to him, shooting Poe a burning glare before he seethed. “Don’t you dare follow us, Dameron, I’m warning you. I don’t want to use this on you.”

“No, Ben, what are you doing?!” You bellowed, trying time to fight his hold, punching and kicking at him, catching sight of Poe pulling out his blaster and threatening the almost unrecognizable man pointing his lightsaber at him.

“Let her go Ben! Don’t do something you’re going to regret!”

Ben grumbled, “I’m not.”

“Ben let go!” You try to reach for your blades sheathed on your back, the tip of your fingers only grazing the cold metal before Ben ripped your hand away with the force and turned you so you could face Poe, Ben’s hand wrapping around your throat. “Ben, please.”

“You’ll see him again, I promise.” He tried to assure you, his promise obviously half assed. “Don’t follow us, Poe.”

Poe's eyes turned to you and he hesitated to shoot at Ben to stop him, knowing that if Ben took you to the first order there would be a chance to see you again, a chance that you would be alive. But this—this isn’t what you wanted. So he swallowed thickly and aimed at his friend, lowering his blaster and shooting. The blast stopping half way before it could even hit his intended target.

“I thought you were my friend.” Ben muttered, his lips pressing into a firm line and his voice expressing the hurt and betrayal he felt. “I thought you wanted this too? To see her alive.”

Poe’s lips parted in surprise, blinking away from the floating blaster and looking up to Ben, “I do, but that’s the difference between you and I. I respect what she wants, you don’t.”

Ben’s eyebrows furrowed and he began to back away, whispering a ‘right’, his steps stopping and your breath seeming to halt at the sound of snow crunching behind you. At first your mind went to Rey and Finn, hoping by the force that it was them so they could stop Ben, but when you managed to turn your head to see who was approaching, their in between the trees, approaching like the ugly plague they were, more infected were coming, a mixture between demons with their darkened veins and blood red eyes and the first stage of corpses. All attracted by the movement and noise of what was going, making your heart race in your chest out of fear for Poe. Knowing that Ben wouldn’t help take them down, not when the one thing he wanted was to get away from your group. And this dangerous distraction was going to help.

“I’m sorry.” Ben muttered to Poe, “but I can’t let you stop me. I’ll help her I promise.”

Another gasp left your mouth and your eyes widened at the realization of what Ben was planning to do—again you tried to kick and hurt Ben in the best way you could, but he only tightened his grip around your throat and began walking back, using his hand that was holding onto the lightsaber and keeping the blast in place to spread his fingers just a bit, releasing the red floating blast and redirecting it back to hit Poe‘s side, your concern for him instantly coming out in a pained cry.

“No! No! Poe!” Again you kicked at Ben, squirming your head up just a bit to bite down on his hand, the sudden and pained impact making him loosen his grip and letting you fall down. “Poe!” You quickly jumped to your feet and rushed to fall by his side, his hand instantly leaving his wounded area to grab your hand, whilst with his other one he aimed his blaster at the approaching threats, Ben included; “I can help you, I can help.” You muttered, tears welling up in your eyes at the blood coming out from his wound. Not being able to fully process what Ben did, what could happen and what you couldn’t let happen to Poe.

If-if he died...no the thought just hurt to even think about.

Poe groaned, “okay, yeah, just help me get up.” swinging his arm around your shoulders while your arms wrapped around his waist to begin lifting him to his feet. “You broke your promise.” He struggled to say, smiling through the pain regardless.

You shake your head, “you broke it first.”

Poe grunts and hisses in pain, swallowing thickly before he answered, “yeah well—”

Suddenly before you could walk any further you felt a force, a weight on your body, forbidding you from moving. Forbidding from Poe from moving as well. “What’s going on?”

“Ben, he—”

Before Poe could even finish his sentence you were flung back in a quick speed, a loud yelp escaping your lips at the feeling of the force taking you away, crashing in a blink of an eye back to Ben’s grasp. His arm tightening harder and harder around your throat, enabling air from fully getting into your lungs, seeing as your vision began to blur. The last breaths you could manage to breath out were to whisper for the only person on your mind, his wounded state, the last memory permanently stuck to your mind. “Poe…”

Ben’s lips moved by your ear and he whispered in a chilling voice, “I’m just trying to save you.” The last words you heard before everything went black, the image of Poe wounded in the snow with the danger that lurked towards him the last thing you ever saw before just pure darkness.

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