#red chalk snap

[k-hotchoisan]

hi I saw that your requests are open! can you write about needy/horny hongjoong being a messy kisser and overstimulation (only if you're comfortable with it) 💕 tysm 💕

At this point I should just make a masterlist of ateez members being perverts because that’s where all of these fics are swerving to (not that I’m complaining 😛)

Thank you for the wait, here’s your meal ✨🌶️

wetting your lips

<hongjoong x fem!reader>

He’s just your sugar daddy right? No strings attached. At least that’s what he thinks until the both of you make out, and you see how fucking deep his obsession with you runs.

Genre/warnings: perverted, possessive, DILF sugar daddy!Hongjoong, smut, Hongjoong is possessive as much as he’s horny (we love that for him), blowjob, deep throat, cumming un/touched, overstimulation, sloppy, making out, vibrator play, unprotected sex, cream pie

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe

🩷 Stay perverted: the masterlist

“No strings attached”, is what Hongjoong would tell you during the earlier days of this transactional relationship. Little did he realise he would be eating his fucking words. 

Initially, it started off with spoiling you with dinners and gifts. Truthfully, it was kind of jarring—solely because it was something you never thought of stepping your foot in. Hongjoong was fine with the arrangement, showering you with gifts and dinners. He was always polite and gentle, sometimes even flirty with you. He never brought up intimacy—at least, not until the third month mark. 

And you wonder to yourself how did Hongjoong keep all of that to himself, because he was something in bed. He wasn’t rough by any means—dominant—definitely. You could tell he got off taking the lead in bed on top of fucking the ever loving shit out of you. 

Fucking him—or being fucked by him was nothing like your previous partners. Despite him being significantly older than you, he had some sort of vigor, one that definitely always left you wanting more. He started becoming more flirtatious, his hands always around your body whenever he could, enjoying seeing red tint flush against your cheeks whenever he said something dirty. He began picking you from campus more often as well. 

It was to the extent that on some days during your classes, you would blank out briefly, whatever you were supposed to be absorbing completely replaced by your little escapades with him the night before—him driving his cock right into your wet hole from below, muttering such dirty things—“that’s my good girl, taking my cock like that. You love that don’t you?”, and the way he would hold your thighs down so you wouldn’t squirm and take his fucking cock like his good little girl while you leak all over him and completely break. By the time you snapped out of it, your thighs were squeezed on reflex. You were never gonna fucking tell Hongjoong that, obviously. 

There was one thing you realised he doesn’t do during sex—kissing. It wasn’t that he would avoid you if you kissed him—you didn’t initiate because he never placed his lips in the proximity of yours. You chalked it off as probably something he wasn’t comfortable with, and you weren’t about to force him anyway. 

Then another popped—up the more Hongjoong had you around him—his possessiveness progressively built. Initially it was subtle; Hongjoong would rest his hand on your thigh if he was seated beside you—he loved doing that, especially when your thighs are bare. There was an instance where he was picking you up from campus, he called your name, pulling your attention away from your friend. Your male friend. 

“Boyfriend?” He’d ask. You stay frozen, unsure of what to reply to your friend. But you shake your head while you plaster a smile before you waved him off and entered Hongjoong’s car. 

As you clip your seatbelt on, Hongjoong casts you a glance from the side before he presses against the accelerator. 

“Who was that?”

You look up at him and blink. “Classmate”, you reply curtly, before pulling out your phone.

“The both of you seem close”, he comments, shifting his gaze away back to road. 

“Yeah he’s my group mate”, you reply, nonchalant about the tightening grip Hongjoong had on the steering wheel. He’s irritated, his jaw is clenched but he doesn’t know why.

“What were the both of you talking about?” He asks next. Your gaze lifts from the phone to the road ahead of you, wondering why Hongjoong was suddenly asking you all of these questions. 

“Nothing. He was asking who you were. That’s all.” 

Hongjoong’s jaw tightens slightly more. His eyes don’t leave the road. 

“And what did you reply?”

You finally whip your head to face Hongjoong, confusion partnered with furrowed eyebrows all over your face. 

“Why does that matter?”

“Answer me, doll.” 

And you immediately simmer down slightly, your eyes back on the road. 

“What would you want me to answer?” You deflect, hoping, praying, that he’d leave this alone. It was making your heart pump a hundred miles per second. 

“I asked you first.”

Now you can’t help but to roll your eyes. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

Hongjoong cocks an eyebrow. “Elaborate.”

Your arms are crossed. There is a prick of irritation stemming from your heart, but you aren’t able to pinpoint the cause of it. 

“He asked me if you were my boyfriend, but I didn’t reply.”

This time, Hongjoong quietens down, but you catch a glint in his eye—something you’ve never seen before. 

Boy, were you in for a fucking ride. 

The moment you step into his penthouse, you make a beeline for the showers, like you always did, but this time, your heart is hammering in your chest. As the hot water washes the soap off, you wonder about Hongjoong’s recent behaviour towards you. Even though Hongjoong has always been a direct person, he’s like a puzzle you could never figure out. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t seem to get him out of your head. Especially when he’s been more affectionate recently. It’s sending you into a spiral. 

Hongjoong is drying your hair as he combs it. And it’s the little things like these that makes your heart flutter. But he still hasn’t answered you about why he was questioning you so much in the car over a friend.

You turn to him. 

“Now you answer me.”

Hongjoong is avoiding your gaze. The prick in your heart is starting to germinate. 

“Then I’ll accept his date. He was asking me out anyway.” 

That makes Hongjong whip his head so fucking fast, and he’s glaring daggers into you. 

“No. You’re not going.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“And why not? It’s not like we’re dating or anything. You said it before—no strings attached, right?” 

Hongjoong’s jaw clenches. This is driving him insane. He knows. He just doesn’t want to admit it. And he’s about to find out that this would be the turning point. 

“It doesn’t apply this time. I’m not allowing you.”

“You think we’re something? Yeah, wefuck, but youdon’t even kiss me,” You spit. You’ve never challenged Hongjoong like this before, especially given the basis of this peculiar relationship. This was definitely new to you. And him. 

Hongjoong stares at you. Hard. His expression is indecipherable. He shifts closer to you, you who remains still, gaze tracing his movements as Hongjoong closes the distance between the both of you. His thumb presses against your chin, his fingers holding your chin up. You scoff internally, because it’s not like you’re running away-

-and his lips are pressed onto yours. Your mind is buzzing. So much chemicals are colliding in your mind. Sure, the fucking sent you into another realm, but from a kiss? Maybe you just didn’t expect Hongjoong to actually kiss you. 

Hongjoong’s head is as spinning as madly as yours is. There’s a reason why he doesn’t kiss his flings, his partners. He doesn’t like the idea of how kissing turns him vulnerable. He doesn’t care about the emotional connections. But with you? Dear god, he could break his own fucking rules for that. In his own perverse ways. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss you. But he was afraid of the entanglement it would ensue should it happen. It drives him crazy. Even though he was the one who foolishly mentioned no strings attached, he swears he’s the one at his feet for you. 

The kiss deepens as Hongjoong coaxes you to part your lips, and you do, shakily, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Hongjoong stumbles slightly, but his lips are messy against yours. He swallows hard when the both of you pull back, a thin string of spit slowly pulling apart between two swollen lips. 

It’s only then you realised what the hell you’ve done. You’ve gained clarity after the steamy make out session, but one glance at Hongjoong, his cheeks and ears and flushed red, and his eyes are hazed. 

You tug against the drenched boxers Hongjong has on, pulling it down as he peels the silk lounge wear off you. Your breath is heavy at the sight beneath his pants—thick white, leaking and trickling down his thick and heavy shaft.

Hongjoong’s eyes are growing wilder by the second. His hands catch yours and he places your palm on his chest. You feel it—his heartbeat is as wild as his eyes. 

Before you realise it, your back hits the mattress and Hongjoong is towering over you. Your hands are off him, but his hands are trailing all over you—cupping your tits before the sensation of his fingers are tickling your sides, and then he’s at your thighs. He casts you one more glance. 

“If you don’t stop me now, I don’t know what I might do”, Hongjoong warns gently. 

“Hongjoong”, you call out, the tips of his fingers trailing teasingly against the curve of his jaw. “What else have you been keeping in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The sides of Hongjoong’s lips crack into a smile. “So many fucking things, doll.” 

It’s not as if you never used a vibrator with Hongjoong during sex, in fact, he almost seemed to always hold back his enthusiasm when you told him you wanted to use the vibrator during sex. 

But what you failed to realise was how frenzied he almost seemed to be whenever the vibrator came into play. Little did you know his true fantasy was to stuff you full with it, and watch you writhe and beg while he fucks his hand. 

You swallow hard when the vibrator hits the perfect spot again. You push your thighs together, trying to get the toy to hit the spongy spot once again, because fuck, you were so fucking close to cumming. It feels so fucking good. You glance at Hongjoong, who twirls the controller with this pretty fingers. He looks so sickeningly satisfied, watching the way you’re squirming, trying to reach your high, your eyes so glazed out, your whines sounding like symphony to his ears when you beg him to let you cum when he lowers the vibration intensity with his thumb. 

“Hongjoong”, you choke, jerking once more when the vibrator ups it’s buzz once more. Now tears streaming down your cheeks from the constant jump between the lack of and overstimulation. “I wanna cum. Let me cum, please.” You’re practically grinding your hips against the sheets, so much cream leaking past the vibrator that if you sat up, the toy would definitely slip out, and that’s why Hongjoong has you seated like a good girl, legs closed to keep the toy stuffed nicely in you. 

The imagery of you giggling with your male classmate turns Hongjoong’s gaze dark. He cracks a smile, devoid of anything pleasant before he rips your orgasm away from you once more, hearing you cuss for the nth time with your legs twitching. 

“No.” He simply says. “Not yet.”

You hiccup, so fucked out from the pulsing pleasure that you don’t know how much more of this you can take. 

You watch hungrily as Hongjoong strokes his fat, red-tipped cock slowly, beads of precum leaking off the slit, listening to him sigh shakily as his hands slip down his slippery shaft. 

“Fuck yourself with your little toy. If you can last till I cum, I’ll make sure you’ll cum so fucking good, doll”, he proposes. You nod as you bite your lip, desperate to get some form of release, even though you weren’t sure if you were gonna last. 

You spread your legs wide open in front of Hongjoong, gingerly pulling out the vibrator, groaning at the way it drags out of your wet cunt before pushing it back in, your toes curling from how good it feels. Hongjoong almost loses it here, watching how your pussy stretches when you push the toy in. 

And you slowly fuck yourself with the toy, letting yourself fall back against the plush, thick pillows behind you. You feel like you’re doing okay, that is, until Hongjoong amps up the fucking intensity and you’re back to shaking and your voice climbs in octave when you whimper. You’re almost tempted to just fucking release it—it feels so fucking good. Just when you’re about to give up, the intensity slows down to a dull buzz, and you take a sharp inhale, your eyes meeting Hongjoong as he watches you like a predator while his hand makes more of a mess on his pretty cock. You still fuck yourself slowly on the toy, even though it’s by instinct that you want to fuck yourself stupid with it. 

Not yet. You wanted to be Hongjoong’s good girl. 

You lift your hips slightly, the angle letting the vibrator push into deeper parts of your pussy, and you wonder if you regret it or thank the fucking gods for it because when Hongjoong sees you do it, he raises the vibration, making you gasp, your legs snapping shut. 

“Keep them open, baby. You wanna cum, don’t you?” Hongjoong reminds you. He’s obviously enjoying the fucking show—the clear precum slowly turning more white and thicker by the minute. 

“Can’t help it, Joong. Feels so fuckin amazing”, you mutter, hearing Hongjoong’s pretty chuckle echo in your ears while he watches you failing at holding your composure while the vibrator is fucking its vibrations right into your fucking core. 

“Fuck. Look at that pretty little pussy of yours. I’m almost jealous,” Hongjoong sighs as he lowers the vibrations once more, simply to admire how easily the toy slides out of your cunt only to be pushed back again, completely drenched and sticky. 

Without a doubt, watching you fall apart while you fuck yourself like that is sending Hongjoong into a fucking spiral. The one time where he almost walked into you fucking yourself with your dildo triggered something so perverted in him. And before he realised it, his pants pooled a dark patch watching you slap the toy right at your clit, before you would slowly drag it down to your soaked cunt, then pushing it in slowly before you stuffed your poor cunt full. The icing on top? When you were moaning his name sounding so fucking needy,  and before he knew it, cum had soaked his pants. Since then, he’d stay by the doorway of his bedroom, often never telling you when he would be back, just to catch you fucking yourself with your toys just so he could indulge in his fantasies. 

Just when you’re getting used to the low vibrations again, Hongjoong amps it up once more, watching your eyes roll back when he ups it at the moment you had the vibrator stuffed into your pussy. Before you could even register, you feel a tug from behind, and your concentration is at Hongjoong—who has his hands in your hair, pulling it away from your face while he kneels so his cock is right at your face. 

You look up at him, your free hand immediately going up to fuck his cock while you continue to fuck yourself with the vibrator. Somehow, it only makes you feel so fucking good. 

“Open wide, doll”, Hongjoong gestures, giving you a tug from the back so your mouth is at the tip of his cock, not missing the way you moan slightly at his roughness. You stick your tongue out, lapping the thick cream around his cock before he pushes the back of your head, your mouth covering the entirety of his cock. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck. So fucking amazing”, Hongjoong bites the inner of his cheek, completely dropping the remote onto the bed as his other hand joins to the back of your head. 

Your mind is completely mushed—mouth being stuff full of cock while the vibrator is pushing right your g-spot, at such a mind breaking intensity. You try your best to bob your head, at one point letting Hongjoong fuck your face while groaning at the way he’s tugging your hair, adding on to the rapidly building orgasm that was about to burst, even though drool and precum were trickling down the corners of your lips from how much he’s creaming down your throat. 

His cock twitches and he pulls out slightly before he pushes in again once more, barely giving you the time of the day. “Cumming. I’m cumming, doll”, he grunts, his hips pressing against you. ���Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

Your eyes roll back from the pleasure, your legs twitch at that moment—your orgasm spraying out of you while it floods your entire system at the same time, your mind completely going blank while Hongjoong has cum down your throat, the tangy salty fluids following down your throat while your tears leak past your eyes from the sheer fucking pleasure. Your fingers have left pretty scratches down his thighs, and you’re sure he’s gonna love it later. You never thought it would have come down to this.

Hongjoong pulls out slowly, his hands letting go of your hair, stroking your jaw instead before he kneels before you, and engulfs your lips, tasting himself in your tongue. 

There he goes again—his eyes completely glazed out when his lips are on yours, like he can’t get enough of it. And he doesn’t—because he doesn’t soften. 

“So good. Need more, doll. You can take it right? Take whatever I give you”, Hongjoong whispers, the tint flushing his cheeks once more. He makes you face away from him this time—back against his chest, and his wet cock is right at your pussy. 

You swear he’s gonna be the death of you. 

Hongjoong rubs his cockhead against your hole, before he pushes himself in, groaning as you take him inch by inch, stretching your pussy out so well. You’re beginning to drool again—almost shutting off the moment he has you filled up to the brim. 

“Warm and tight. Fucking perfect, doll”, he sighs. You feel yourself drip with more cream. 

Then he starts to fuck you from below, and you’re immediately grasping for any ounce of sanity left in you. But it’s obvious Hongjoong is only gonna fuck it all out of you by the time this over. You lift your leg up by instinct, letting him hit deeper into you, and he groans at how tightly you’re squeezing him. 

His arms are wrapped around you, more tighter and more intimate than usual. And all the thoughts and theories are completely muffled when you feel his cockhead pressing against your g-spot once again. 

“You’re so pretty when you look like that, baby. So fucked out and used by me”, he laughs right in your ears. 

“Yeah. So perfectly used by you”, you agree, your hips bouncing off his cock as well. 

“Of course. My girl is perfect”, his reply sending butterflies flooding your stomach, though you were certain it was mostly because of his cock. 

The thrusting becomes more desperate—the sound of wet skin slapping only growing louder by the second, it makes your toes curl and your head spin. Hongjoong feels so fucking good in you and you swear you could get completely drunk off his cock. It’s also the fact that he’s jackhammering his cock right into you right after he made you swallow his fucking cum moments before that’s making you so disgustingly hooked onto him. And sometimes, it scares you how much you just want him all for yourself. Little did you realise you’ve flooded every crevice of Hongjoong’s mind when the intimacy begins to intensify. Every time he tells himself that he shouldn’t let his feelings mix with the pleasure, you unintentionally pull him back in again, and now he’s completely hooked. 

“Mine, mine, mine”, Hongjoong whispers, biting down onto your neck as a soft moan passes through your ears, and you feel warm, thick cum flood your walls. Stars flood your eyelids as your second orgasm crashes into you, your fingernails leaving light trails of red on his thigh while your pussy milks Hongjoong dry, more cum seeping out 

In between pants and catching breaths as both your highs gradually die down, you turn around to face Hongjoong, your lips ready to part to say something, but Hongjoong beats you to it. 

“Now you can let your little friend know that you have a partner. A partner who’s fucking head over heels for you.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong smut #hongjoong ateez #hongjoong x reader #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong

[munson-blurbs]

Headcanon: Eddie is a boob man. Best friend Eddie would one day notice your boobs (maybe in a bathing suit or a low cut top or something) and they become his new obsession hehe

Us? Projecting? Never.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unwanted boners, semi-public masturbation (m), Eddie's a perv but he's not thrilled about it, Reader has boobs but no size is given (Eddie loves all boobs, let's be real)

WC: 1.3k

Divider credit to @saradika

Stupid D20. 

Stupid Dustin for tossing it so far across the table. 

Stupid low-cut shirt that exposes your chest when you lean over to collect the die, giving Eddie a stupid boner in the middle of Hellfire Club. 

“Hey, Ed!” Gareth calls out impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of the Dungeon Master’s face. “You wanna tell us if we defeated the demogorgon, or are you just gonna stare off into space?”

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry. Right.” He tries his best to proceed with the campaign as usual, but all he can think about are your boobs and how grateful he is to be sitting down right now. 

When he adjourns the meeting, he’s still too hard to stand without someone noticing. “I’m just gonna, uh, hang back and brainstorm for a few,” he lies as smoothly as he can. 

“Can’t wait to see what sadistic shit you come up with,” Mike says. The rest of the guys slap him five in agreement as they clamor out the door. 

The only people left in the room are you and Eddie. 

Of course. 

“You don’t have to stick around, Sweetheart.” He tries not to sound too dismissive, plastering a smile on his face. 

“You’re my ride.”

Shit. “Oh. Right.” He hedges a nervous laugh. “I’ll be ready in five.”

You nod. “No worries. I’ll run to the girls’ room while I wait.” Before reaching the door, you notice that Lucas’s character sheet has fluttered to the ground. You reach down and scoop it up, revealing the tops of your bra-covered breasts. 

“Sinclair owes me,” you chirp, placing the paper back on the table, remaining utterly oblivious to the way Eddie is straining against his zipper once again. 

To Eddie’s credit, he tries to stop thinking about them. He really, truly does. 

You’re his best friend. He doesn’t want to constantly think about your boobs, or the way they’d feel pressed against his bare chest, or whether your nipples would harden if he sucked on them, or—

“Mr. Munson!” Ms. O’Donnell’s shrill screech snaps him out of his breast-induced stupor. “Is there a reason why you can’t be bothered to listen while I’m trying to teach?”

“N-No, ma’am.”

She huffs out an irritated sigh. “Since you must know everything already, why don’t you come up and solve the problem for us?” She taps the piece of chalk against the blackboard, leaving tiny white dots in its wake. 

Eddie shakes his head, feeling his cheeks burn red. Humiliating himself when he can’t figure out the value of x will be bad enough, but to fail while his sail is at half-mast? He’ll never recover. 

Fortunately, the old bird relents and turns back to the board to continue her lesson. 

Crisis averted. 

Except…is it?

Because the only thing—things, rather—on Eddie’s mind are your tits. And he isn’t supposed to be imagining himself caressing them while you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning his name, saying that only he can make you feel that good…

He’s racing out of his seat the moment the bell rings, making a mad dash for the Hellfire room, relieved to see that it’s unoccupied. The door barely closes behind him before he’s ambling towards his DM throne and frantically tugging down his jeans and boxers. 

“Fucking Christ,” he whispers, inhaling sharply as his cock is free of its denim restraint. He wraps his hand around it and squeezes in his desperation for an ounce of relief. Pre-cum already leaks from his red, angry tip, and he knows from experience that this is not going away without some…intervention. 

Eddie reluctantly lets go of himself and spits into his open palm. He bites his lower lip to stifle a burgeoning moan as he slowly works his shaft, fingers tightening to simulate what he imagines to be the way you’d feel. 

“Thassit, mmmf, feels s’good.” He closes his eyes and rests the back of his head on his chair. He needs you underneath him so he can watch your breasts jiggle with each snap of his hips. 

“Bet you want my cum, huh? Where do you want it?” Eddie keeps his voice low, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Want it on those pretty tits of yours? Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”

His fist flies over his hardness, choked whimpers escaping his lips. He feels pleasure begin to build and moans your name to bring himself over the edge. 

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s head snaps forward, taking a moment to let reality seep in. He’s not buried deep within you; he’s jerking off in a dark room where he plays Dungeons & Dragons, and you’re standing in the doorway. 

“Eds? You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. ‘M fine,” he lies, silently brainstorming ways to tuck himself back into his pants without you noticing. 

You arch a disbelieving brow. “You sure? Lucas said he saw you running down the hallway—”

“I’m fine!” He insists louder this time. Shaking his head, he bites his lip and attempts to collect himself. 

The two of you have been friends for too long; you know that he’s far from fine when he raises his voice. You walk to him, determined to figure out what’s wrong. 

And then you see it. 

Eddie says nothing, fully focused on covering himself as best he can and avoiding eye contact. 

It doesn’t take long for you to put the pieces together: semi-hard cock in his hand, sweat beading on his forehead, the pleading mentions of your name. 

“Eddie.” You let your fingertips brush against his shoulder. “Did I interrupt?”

He only nods in response. 

“What were you thinking about?”

Eddie exhales a long breath before answering. “You,” he finally answers. “And th-that shirt you wore yesterday.” His cock twitches at the mere reminder of it. 

You grin knowingly. You’d bought it at the mall specifically because of its low-cut neckline, hoping it would catch Eddie’s attention. 

Apparently, it very much had. 

“You liked it?” 

“Loved it.” He starts stroking himself again, almost unaware of his own movements. “Want you to wear it every damn day,” he adds with a hoarse chuckle. 

Swiping your tongue over your lower lip, you lean in and whisper in his ear, “What if I didn’t wear one at all?”

With that, you lift your shirt over your head and unhook your bra, letting them both fall to the ground unceremoniously. Eddie’s eyes widen, gazing at your exposed chest. 

“Oh, baby,” he breathes, his free hand reaching out to touch them. His thumb grazes one nipple and he gives your breast a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they’re perfect.”

You smile, using your hip to nudge the table away and get on your knees in front of him. “Keep going, Eds.”

He nods again, shifting forward a bit so you’re between his legs. “Gonna…gonna cum all over these perfect tits,” he grunts. “Please. Please, I gotta…”

“You can cum on them, Eds.”

And, fuck, does he. Thick ropes spill out of his cock, painting your chest in a sticky film. He’s crying out your name as he does it, milking every last drop. 

He floats down from the high, staring at your chest and admiring the way he’s claimed you. “That…wow,” he manages, laughing nervously. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissues, wiping whatever is still leaking out of him before sopping up the mess on your breasts. 

“I don’t know where we go from here,” he admits sheepishly, wadding up the Kleenex and tossing it into the trash. “Like, do I take you on a date? Bend you over the table?” He says the second option teasingly, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t turn you down if you agreed to it. 

You re-clasp your bra and shrug on your shirt. “We could try a date,” you say as casually as you can. 

“Dinner and a movie?”

“I’ll wear that shirt.”

--

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #smut #requests

[iceunhie]

indirect kiss moments !

summary: you drink from their cup on accident = the realization that you may or may not have shared an indirect kiss. how do they feel about that? too flustered beyond belief, it seems....

featuring: part one (here) - kazuha, wanderer | part two - albedo, neuvillette, alhaitham

notes: not exactly established relationship, crush crush hehe, fluffy, my two anemo faves in one post.... loud gasp effect in the background (pls don't perceive this as my betrayal to the other anemos they'll have their turn soon i promise 🫡)

WANDERER — (in/ex)ternally flustered as fuck + has stopped working

wanderer doesn't think he has a heart, but the way the void in his chest thumps for but a flicker of a moment proves him quite wrong.

why, you ask? it's all because of you.

he resists the urge to snap, terribly so, but out of being flustered more than anything, not irritation. because there is absolutely no way for him to properly process these turn of events with even a hint of rationality. you seem to be promptly ignorant of the whirring of thoughts in his mechanical head. ignorant of his rather foolish situation of going irrational and borderline idiotic.

all because of a damn indirect kiss.

his eyes lift from where he's burning holes onto the cup you're holding—his cup, he corrects, and lingers embarrassingly long (too long) on your lips. he tries not to fight the way heat creeps up his skin, synthetic yet all too real (perhaps like his own, untouched feelings); he thinks he might be red in the face. horribly red, thinking that oh no, he’s faced with the egregious notion that he may be too (very) obvious with how his reaction to your simple action betrays his secret fondness for your existence. most troubling.

it's fine, he tries to rationalize, he's got to relax. it was but a sip of tea. tea he so carefully procured and offered with much reluctance that was more feigned than anything else. tea he only drank because he heard in passing about your preference for it, very, very sweet tea he wouldn't normally drink, he notes with faint distaste—the things he lets you get away with—

….and then you lick your lips to savor the taste.

if the traveler hadn't showed him a taste of an almost death, then he thinks this might just be how he falls.

[ spoiler alert: he ends up hastily getting up to leave after pouring you another refill, muttering curses that would certainly alarm the average civilian. fast as light; if only to hide the utter mess that was his face. red, breathless (even though he doesn't need to breathe) and disgustingly, horribly flustered.

you’d better do your best to calm his self-imposed brooding— he isn't going to tell you anything about what exactly made him fluster this much. best of luck. ]

KAZUHA — flustered, but smiling like a lovesick fool (wants to write endless haikus about this)

kazuha is drunk, both in love and on the sake that burns his throat in a pleasant blend of sweet and strong.

it all started with your request to drink from his cup. you ordered a different drink from him while the crew of the crux were celebrating beidou’s birthday. even now, the sound of laughter and drunken slurring fills the night, a slow and, if he has to be frank, tone-deaf melody of a simple happy birthday echoing in the air. of course, being as drunk in love (beidou’s words) as he is, kazuha didn't even hesitate at all to give you a sip.

…and it just so happens that you managed to drink at the exact place he drank from earlier.

small mercies come in the form of playing off the intense blush of his face and chalking it up to the effects of the wine and sake. kazuha isn't one to be flustered easily, but he must admit this one elicited no light reaction from him, no matter how much he may downplay its impact.

perhaps it was delusional, but was there not a tradition about drinking from each other's cups like this that could symbolize marriage….?

oh dear, the alcohol was getting to him, and fast.

[ spoiler alert: the next day, when you wake up with a sore headache and an achy body and an extremely clingy kazuha, try not to be confused when he mentions something like kissing you in the haze of his sleep.

the following week will also make you subject to two things: 1) an increasingly clingy kazuha (see above), and 2) dozens upon dozens of haikus left at your home, along with silkflowers of innumerable count you’d think he'd plucked the entire lot of them. you never did know why kazuha had become even sweeter (was that even possible...?) all of a sudden. ]

[९] 2024 © iceunhie :: do not copy or use my works.

#꒰ ✉ ꒱ 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓'𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒔 •°. *࿐ #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin drabbles #wanderer x you #kazuha x you #genshin impact imagines #𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 ★ GENSHIN . . .

[catsgut]

Torturous//bully!weasley twins x afab!reader

CW: mentions past bullying, reader is a hufflepuff and goes through puberty summer before 7th year. Later on, this story will contain dark content such as nonconsensual sex, abuse, and manipulation. Read at your own risk!

word count: 1k

Never in your life did you think you would turn into the young woman you were today. Sure, you weren’t as beautiful as your mother (although she would say differently), but you were impressed with how you filled out the summer before your last year at Hogwarts. It wasn’t unknown that you were a late bloomer, but better late than never, right?

Maybe you would even find yourself a boyfriend, you thought as you finished packing your suitcase. It was the night before you left home for school. You never got over the excitement of getting to finally see your friends again and your favorite professors.

With a squeal, you rolled into bed and coved the majority of your face. Staring up at your ceiling, a feeling of dread washed over you. The twins. How could you forget? The thought of your peaceful summer coming to an end made you sigh. They were your worst nightmare. That’s the one thing you were worried about and it was enough to even make you reconsider going this year. But alas, it was your last year. Just one more and you would be free from the tortures they put you through… forever.

You giggled softly as one of your friends pointed as Charlie, a cute boy in your house passed by your cart. He smiled at you and continued to make his way down the train. “You look good!” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “I see your chest finally grew in,” her comment made you blush as you rolled your eyes. “Not as much as moms…. but I’m glad I finally look a little more my age,” you agreed, thoughts drifting back to Charlie. Maybe he would notice? You hoped.. he might even think you were cute and ask you on a date! I mean, you were both Hufflepuffs. The thought was enough to boost your confidence a little. A date with the cutest boy in your house, a girl could dream!

Your day dream was cut short by a hand snapping in front of your dazed face. “Wake up, love,” the deep voice spoke in your ear. You turned your head in horror to see the red head smirk. “Pleasure seeing you again, ay?” Fred teased and you scooted back towards the window. “Go away,” was all you managed to squeak out before he laughed. Winking at you, he followed his brother down the aisle. You grimaced.

“You have got to stand up for yourself this year! It’s bad enough you let them torment you, but this year will be different. You can’t let the bullying happen anymore, y/n….” but you weren’t listening to her, only thinking about how uncomfortable you felt with his face next to your head. It wasn't the first time Fred had gotten in your face, usually to spew nasty words at you, but it was the first time you felt a burn in your lower stomach. You weren’t sure what it was, maybe how much taller and muscular he was now or the fact that he finally got a much needed haircut, but the feeling slowly pooled up inside your underwear. “This year will be different for sure,” you mumbled as the train's horn shot through the air.

Later that night as you ate dinner after the sorting hat ceremony, your eyes drifted back over to where Fred and George were sitting. The both of them were laughing with some sixth-year Gryffindor; she was twirling her hair and giggling in between them. You almost felt jealous of her, but chalked it up to you never really catching the eye of any boy your age. Actually, the twins were the only ones who ever gave you any kind of attention. 'Just the shitty kind,' you grumbled to yourself. Deciding it would be smart to have an early night, so you left the Hufflepuff table and made your way to your common room.

The empty walls were cold and the air almost felt damp from the pouring rain outside. You shivered and hugged your arms around your freezing body, feeling the goosebumps littering your arms. It almost hurt; it felt like your body was in fight or flight by the way your heart was racing. You were actuall starting to get nervous as the feeli-

"Hello there,' a voice said in your left ear, making you quickly turn your head. Nothing. "Over here," it said again to your right. There they stood leaning against each other. "i'll say, y/n... you've grown," George chuckled and made a point to look at your chest. Fred snickered and walked forward taking a handful of your hair. "We missed you, love," he said using the nickname he's always called you. You rolled your eyes, "I'm sure you did, Fred, but now isn't the time." you tried to sound unintimidated, but you were sure they saw right past that.

Your hand came up to grab Fred's wrist, but George caught it before you could. "Watch yourself, we just wanted to say hello," he spoke sternly with amusement in his eyes. Fred tugged your hair a bit to the side before letting go. "George and I were bored all summer without little y/n to keep us company. I'm excited for all the fun the three of us will be having... especially now that you've finally grown into a young woman," he winked and the two of them made their way towards their common room, leaving you sweating despite the air's temperature.

Laying in bed that night you wondered what the twins had meant. Sure they messed with you every year, but something about their tone scared you even more than usual. What had you going through puberty have anything to do with it. You had a feeling they had something sinister planned, and with a gulp you rolled over and tucked the blanket up over your head. 'This year will be different. This year will be different,' you chanted over and over till you fell asleep while down in the Gryffindor common rooms, the twins smiled knowingly at each other. They finally had their toy back in their grasp, only they were going to end this year with a bang.

Thank you for reading! I'm excited to continue this story!! i’m having fun with it:)

#fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfic #weasley twins smut

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Ghost on the Stairs

**alright, alright. I asked and y'all answered. Here's my siblings Bruce and Danny fic!**

“Boo!”

Bruce clattered to a stop on the floor, holding his arms out for his baby brother as the boy toddled his way forward.

“Hey, Danny! Did you miss me while I was at school?”

Danny waved chubby arms, clearly delighted that Bruce was waiting for him. He was all of two years to Bruce’s seven, and the two of them were almost inseparable.

Chancing a look over to his mother, Bruce found her and father smiling fondly at the two of them. Alfred was coming up behind them with a tea tray.

“Boo!”

Bruce turned back to his brother, only to lurch forward as his tiny brother took a step straight into a swirling green portal that opened up from nowhere.

Danny’s screech as he fell was cut off by the portal shutting with a snap, leaving Bruce on his hands and knees, reaching for air.

Mother, father, and Alfred all clustered around him as he began to cry, and the four of them began desperately looking for the youngest member of the family.

They never found him, and a year later, Bruce lost his parents to a gun. At least that was something he could fight against.

When Bruce became Batman at the age of twenty-two, he finally erected a gravestone for his baby brother, right next to their parents. If Danny ever came back, he wouldn’t be the same boy who had vanished.

~~~

Red Robin swung into the building, breaking through the window with his momentum. The cult surrounding a magic circle on the floor of the warehouse had been causing a ruckus in Gotham, and the bats had finally had enough.

Just as they finished knocking out the cultists, the magic circle flared to life and a green pool bloomed from the floor.

Tim, purely out of scientific curiosity, leaned closer, only to be pulled back roughly by Batman.

“Stay away from it.”

“B?”

Batman grabbed a batarang from where it had landed in the melee and threw it with a precise hand, cutting through one of the lines of chalk surrounding the pool.

Narrowing his eyes, Tim watched Bruce’s face- his expression right now was all Bruce, no Bat in sight- sorrow mixed with relief.

Once the pool had vanished completely, Bruce pulled Tim into his arms.

“Woah, what’s up B?”

“I cannot lose you too.”

The moment passed, and Red Robin found himself following Batman as the vigilante swept out of the building.

~~~

“Constantine.”

“Bats. Nice of you to call. What do you need?”

“I sent you a data packet. What is the summoning circle for?”

Constantine was quiet for a long while as he perused the files Bruce had sent him. Bruce paced in front of the batcomputer, glad that all his children were in bed for the night. Somehow they had known something was wrong, and every single one of them had come to the manor- even Jason.

“Looks like an attempt to summon a being of the Infinite Realms to me.”

“Infinite Realms?”

“Mhmm. The afterlife, if you will.”

Bruce couldn’t help the small wheeze as his airways caught. Constantine didn’t seem to notice, as he continued.

“The ghosts haven’t been as active lately, not since the new king came into power. It’s been maybe two decades since?”

“I would like to meet this king.”

“Why?”

“It would be politically intelligent of us to make allies.”

Constantine sighed, long and loud.

“Fine. Give me a week to gather up the stuff.”

~~~

Jason glanced over the thin information brief that Bruce handed down, skimming it at first, until something caught his eye.

“B?”

“Hn.”

“According to this, the being we’re trying to summon is damn powerful. Wouldn’t it be better to do this on the Watchtower with more backup?”

“Yeah B,” Dick chimed in, “Constantine’s report does say that the guy is rumored to be a wandering spirit, which limits his power, but what if that’s not right?”

Jason looked back down at the papers, his eyes darting through to find out what a wandering spirit was.

A ghost that couldn’t find its grave. Part of Jason ached at the thought, and he didn’t quite understand why.

“Fine. We will summon the king at the Watchtower.”

Small victories.

~~~

Bruce was not a praying man, and yet here he was, hoping against hope that this ghost could assist him in finding out what happened to his brother.

The sigils on the floor flared to light, and a now familiar green portal swirled into being. The entire room waited with bated breath for a few moments, and then a young woman rose from the portal.

Batman knew what it felt like to be stabbed. There was no way he could have been, and yet there was a knife in his gut as he stared at this girl who looked so much like his mother, except for the inverted colors.

“The Ghost King thanks you for your call- Unfortunately he is currently unavailable. Please leave your message after the-“ the girl’s professional, almost robotic voice petered off. “Wait a minute- it’s here!”

Her eyes were wide, as was the smile she flashed at the group.

“Please hold.”

She sunk back into the pool, and Bruce took a step towards it, despairing of his chance.

And then she returned, dragging a young man up with her.

“Can you feel it, Phantom? It’s here! We can find it!”

“Calm down, Phantasm. We can go looking soon- first we need to find out why I was summoned.”

The young man turned to Diana, who was standing at the front of the group. She had been chosen as diplomatic leader, seeing as she was a Princess and Ambassador.

“Pardon my sister, how may I assist?”

Bruce let their conversation wash over him as he cataloged the young man’s features. They were so very similar- so close.

The man was both too young and too old. Daniel would be in his mid-forties had he lived, and only two if he’d died. This young man couldn’t be older than thirty.

As Diana’s explanation ended, the young man smiled.

“I agree. It would be advantageous of us to be allies, knowing what I know of this reality now. As allies, I must ask- what is the real reason I was summoned?”

He turned his green (wrong, too much like Damian’s) eyes to Bruce.

“Will you explain? The summoning was filled with great longing for something.”

Bruce stumbled forward, and surely to the shock of his teammates, friends, and children, fell to his knees before the king.

“My- my brother. He fell through a portal so similar to yours and I- I need to know what happened to him. Please.”

The king and his sister looked at each other before looking back at Bruce.

“The Infinite Realms are just that, infinite. However, I may be able to help.”

“Phantom!”

The king ignored his sister.

“What was his name, this brother of yours?”

Bruce hadn’t spoken his brother’s name in decades.

“Danny. Daniel Wayne.”

The room was so silent he could have heard a pin drop.

“And you gave him a grave when he never returned to you.”

Bruce looked up at the king, who was looking back contemplatively. The king’s sister was staring up at her brother with her mouth agape.

“I did.”

The king was very, very quiet, and the moment stretched on and on and on.

After a time, the room grew darker as the green pool closed slowly, and the two ghosts landed with barely a whisper of sound.

“I died at age fourteen,” the king began, musing his own thoughts. “As I died, I thought that the color of the ectoplasm surrounding me was too familiar in color and movement for that to have been my first experience with a portal.”

He took a step towards Bruce.

“It was terrifying and I was so afraid that I would be ripped away from everything I ever loved again.”

Two bright white rings circled the king, and Bruce found himself looking at a man who looked just like his mother, but with a twitch of the lips that was entirely his father’s.

“Hello, Boo. I’m afraid I can’t remember your name properly.”

Bruce took his cowl off slowly, wanting his baby brother to see him despite the fact that he was crying.

“We’ve got his chin, Danny.”

The girl was standing a little behind Danny, smiling. She winked at Bruce.

“He always did want to find his bio family.”

Bruce held his hand out, and Danny took it, using his position and apparently superior strength to pull Bruce into a hug.

“Bruce. Bruce Wayne.”

“Danny Nightingale- well. Nightingale-Wayne, I suppose.”

~~~

Danielle Nightingale (Wayne?) watched her original and his brother(!?!) hug it out. The big man in black was obviously not used to hugs.

“Miss?”

She turned to the inquirer, the nice looking ambassador from before. (Sue her, Dani hadn’t been listening to the conversation. She had been trying to pinpoint the location of their grave!)

“How can I help?”

Ambassador lady smiled at her.

“We were unaware that our teammate had siblings, and clearly Daniel has introduced himself. May we ask your name?”

Dani grinned.

“Oh, I’m not a sibling. I’m sibling-adjacent. Sibling clone? One of those. My name is Danielle, but I go by Dani with an i. It gets a little confusing since he’s Danny with a y.”

“I see. Welcome to the Watchtower, Dani. May I ask what you and his majesty are looking for that was found here?”

“Our grave, of course! Since I’m Danny’s clone, I can feel it too- a little distantly, but it’s not like I’ll get my own. I was born dead.”

Ambassador lady was looking a little faint. Dani took pity on her.

“But now I’m a kickass princess, so all’s well that ends well.”

“I suppose so.” The ambassador looked over at Danny and surprise brother with a small smile. “I suppose so indeed.”

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x batman #danny phantom #bruce wayne

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Midnight Excursion 🌙 (Ominis Gaunt x F!MC)

This fic was born after simping with @damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog over the Ominis voice lines when you use Alohomora in front of him. Enjoy!

Warnings: smut || NSFW || p in v || f!ng3ring || they go at it on a classroom desk || characters are aged up, over 18 and in 7th year || mdni || (1.8k words)

The dungeons were completely still at this time of night, providing a menacing vibe to a part of the castle that was already eerie during daylight hours. It was shortly after midnight now, and the only sound to be heard was the soft taps of the girl’s footsteps as she tried to keep as quiet as possible. There was no one else around, although she swore she could hear another pair of footsteps following closely behind her, despite seeing no one every time she turned around. She eventually shook the worry off, chalking it up to nerves. 

She continued walking, passing the dragon statue before finding her destination on her left - a single locked door. She pointed her wand to the lock, whispering “Alohomora” at it. But as the lock popped open, a voice seemingly out of nowhere caused her to jump and drop her wand.

“Breaking in, are we? What is it that you’re up to?”

“Ominis!?” She exclaimed, as she watched the Slytherin boy materialize in front of her as he removed his disillusionment charm. 

“What are you doing sneaking about the castle this late at night!?” He snapped. She knew he couldn’t actually see her, but she could still feel his eyes digging into her skin. 

“What does it matter to you, Gaunt?! And you’re here too, meaning I could ask you the same question!”

Ominis huffed. “I’m NOT sneaking about. I was sitting in the Transfiguration Courtyard getting some air after not being able to sleep. I heard someone use the floo point in the courtyard and realized it was you, so I followed you. And it matters to me because I’m well aware of the sick interest you and Sebastian share. If your little midnight excursion has anything to do with the Dark Arts I swear on Merlin I will-”

“OH for the love of Merlin this is NOT about the Dark Arts! I haven’t thought about the Dark Arts since fifth year! I’m actually doing a favor for Mr. Moon.”

“Oh yes, that’s believable. Helping the groundskeeper with a task after midnight. Do you think I’m an idiot?!”

“Ominis you are incredibly annoying! If you must know, Mr. Moon has asked me to retrieve various statues that are scattered all over Hogwarts. They’re statues of Demiguise, and they only appear at night. Now are you done interrogating me?!”

Ominis’s scowl softened, but only slightly. “Fine. But I think I’ll stick around until you retrieve your statues, just to be sure.” 

The girl rolled her eyes, picking up her wand and pushing the unlocked door open. As she entered the room, she looked over at Ominis. His head was tilted downwards, but his wand was drawn, pointing at her, its red tip pulsating. He was studying her. She knew that this was Ominis’s way of studying a person or an object, him and his wand sharing some kind of mind connection she wished she knew more about, but didn’t thanks to their rocky relationship.

She knew Ominis hated her ever since fifth year, when their mutual best friend, Sebastian’s obsession with the Dark Arts almost got him killed. Ominis often blamed her for this, claiming that she “egged Sebastian on”, when she truthfully had nothing to do with it. It was a shame because she didn’t actually hate Ominis. She thought of him as a kind and loyal friend. She also found herself enamored with him, although she knew there was no way the feeling was mutual.

After they closed the door behind them, she went looking for her demiguise, while Ominis used his wand to survey the room. As her eyes locked on the statue, Ominis spoke. 

The Muggle Studies classroom? Odd choice for your statue to reside.”

She ignored him, picking up the statue. “Mine now, Demiguise.” she proclaimed as she shrunk the statue down and stored it away in her pocket. 

“Okay, I got what I came here for. Happy?” She began to walk back towards the classroom door when Ominis spoke again.

“You know, in my seven years here, I’ve never stepped foot in this classroom. My parents would never allow me to take this class. They see muggles as a plight to society. But, I don’t agree with that. They’re not bad people, they’re just misunderstood.”

She turned towards Ominis, a look of surprise on her face. Throughout her time at Hogwarts she had heard whispers about the Gaunt family and their disdain for muggles, as well as some claims that they even tortured and killed muggles. She had a hard time believing the torture claims, her attraction to him providing a bit of bias, but truthfully, she knew very little about him. Any attempt made to get to know him was shut down due to his distrust of her. 

“That’s surprising to hear, considering everything they say about you.”

“Everything they say about you.” Ominis scoffed. “Of course, you’re one of those. You believe every rumor that floats around about me! Yes, my family is full of muggle hating pureblood fanatics, but I am nothing like them! Bearing the Gaunt name is a curse and I have worked so hard to prove myself better than them, but still people would rather treat me like I’m a monster, and…why am I even defending myself to you! Nothing I say will ever change how you think of me!”

She was used to Ominis shouting at her for silly nonsense, but this was different. She could feel the pain in Ominis’s voice. Normally, she would have kept her feelings to herself, as she had this entire time, but the exasperation in Ominis’s bright blue eyes made her drop the filter she had placed on herself. 

“I don’t think that way about you! I never have.” Her sudden words caused Ominis to recoil in confusion. 

“I’ve always believed that deep down you’re a good person. It’s like you said about muggles - you’re not a bad person, Ominis, you’re just misunderstood.” She internally cringed at her own words and almost stopped talking entirely, but something compelled her to keep going.

I’ve always wanted to get to know you, maybe become your friend, maybe more than friends.” 

Regret filled her. If she didn’t already say too much, she certainly had now. She brought her gaze, which had previously been on the floor, up to Ominis to find a soft expression on his face. 

“More than friends?” he repeated softly as he approached her, closing the gap between them. 

A soft “yes” was all she could muster as her heart began to race, but that “yes” was all he needed.

Without a second of hesitation, Ominis’s hands grabbed her cheeks, pulling her into a rough kiss. Her brain needed a moment to catch up before she returned his kiss with the same level of passion, as she threw her arms around his neck. Ominis moved his hands from her cheeks to her hips, picking her up slightly so that she’d be seated on the desk she had been standing against.

Her legs spread on their own, allowing him to slip his body between them to get closer to her. She felt like she had been Imperio’d with the way her body was moving on its own, her hands coming down to his chest to rid him of his robe and tie, and then moving lower to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He finally pulled away from her, leaving her lips red and swollen as his hands worked to remove her robe, shirt, and tie as well. His hands then shot down to her hips as he frantically removed her skirt, tights, and underwear all at once. 

For a moment, she felt a little embarrassed to be so exposed, in a classroom no less, but all her inhibitions faded when Ominis’s lips latched on to her neck, biting at her skin as his hand slipped between their bodies, easily sliding two fingers into her cunt. She wasn’t shy with her sounds as loud moans fell from her lips, extremely grateful that they were in the dungeons, far from any prying ears. 

Ominis roughly pumped his fingers in and out of her as he continued to bite and suck at various spots on her neck, marks beginning to form on her skin. After a few more moments of Ominis’s delicious assault on her body, he pulled away, which earned him a groan from the girl. 

Ominis let out a dark chuckle. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not finished yet. Lie down, my darling.”

She did as she was told, lying back on the desk, a tingle coursing through her at his tone. She watched as Ominis removed his trousers and underwear, his hard, leaking cock springing free. She squealed when Ominis roughly grabbed her hips, pulling her down the desk slightly, before he lifted her legs up, lined himself with her entrance, and pushed himself inside.

Ominis’s pace was rough and unforgiving as he worked her to orgasm with each snap of his hips. Two sets of moans bounced off the walls of the classroom while the desk rattled loudly from the force at which it was shaking. Her legs wrapped around Ominis’s back in an attempt to pull him even closer to her as her walls began to tighten around him. She let out a cry of his name as her orgasm hit, her mind going completely blank. Ominis never let up his pace, a cry of her name falling from his own lips only a couple of thrusts later as his orgasm filled her. 

–

The two sat side by side at the desk after they had come down from their high and gotten dressed. They held hands as they sat silently, both of their brains still trying to register what had just transpired between them. 

The girl broke the silence first, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Ominis’s lips before she spoke. 

“We should probably head back, get ourselves some sleep after the eventful night we’ve had.”

Ominis laughed as he stood up, taking hold of her hand once again as they walked towards the classroom door. But as they approached the door, something caught the girl’s eye, causing her to stop.

“Wait one second.” she said as she approached a small gold chest. Upon opening it, she discovered several gold coins inside. She pocketed the coins and turned back towards Ominis, a smirk on his face. 

“You’re quite the covert little thief, aren’t you? Well done!”

The tone in which Ominis said the words sent another tingle coursing through her. She ignored the ache forming in her due to the roughness at which Ominis had fucked her, as she took a hold of his hand, and sat back on the same desk..

“On second thought, it is still pretty early in the morning. We still have some time to enjoy our privacy down here before we need to head back.” she said with a tone that made it very clear to Ominis what she was suggesting. 

“Oh, well let’s make the most of that time then, shall we?” Ominis said as he repositioned himself back between her legs, roughly kissing her once again.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt smut

[ghostsy]

Let's Get Physical

WARNINGS: yandere, stalking, possessiveness, nsfw, dub/noncon, non-consenual implications, toxic relationship, implied imprisonment, misogyny, manipulation, gaslighting, depression, anxiety

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER

“Fuck–you tryna break my damn fingers off?” 

“Don’t be a baby. Besides, shouldn’t you be used to this by now?” She rolled her eyes playfully, smiling as her hands worked at his own, stretching his fingers backwards, and pressed her thumbs to his palm.

“Quit grinnin’, creep.” He sat cross-legged in front of her on the floor of his home gym, studying her as she worked. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her eyes narrowed in concentration, and she stifled a smirk when he hissed. “Are you sure you even know what a grin is? Can’t say I’ve ever seen you give one.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Still, a smile tugged at his lips, “Y’know, this could constitute abuse of power.”

“It’s called physical therapy, you manchild.” She placed his hand down on his thigh, and picked up the other to start her work, fingers massaging across the palm.

He puffed out his cheeks, “It’s called torture,” Grumbling as he averted his gaze.

“It’s called, Mr. Big Strong Number Two went and snapped his tendons tryna blow up an entire villain army by himself.”

“That’s a funny way a’ sayin’ thank you.”

“If I recall correctly, you were thanked plenty three months ago–when it happened–if your popularity numbers are any indication.” She caught sight of the twist at his lips, and gave a soft smile. “But, I suppose I can stand to add another. Thank you.”

He coughed awkwardly, red dusting his cheeks, “Yeah. Whatever.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, the occasional grunt and hiss interrupting, but not disrupting the peace. She placed his hand down, and went to sort through her gym bag on the floor beside them.

Pulling out a stretch band, she wrapped it around his fingers. He knew the drill by now, and as he began to stretch, brows furrowed as he strained, she let out a happy giggle.

“See! You can hold about three inches further; you’re getting better. Just a few more sessions with me, and a healing quirk can do the rest!” She clapped her hands together, and though he felt like screaming in frustration at the effort it took, when he caught sight of the glimmer in her eyes, he softened, letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t go expectin’ a five star Yelp review or somethin’ now.” She caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes, and a sly smile spread on her lips.

“Weren’t you banned from Yelp after–”

“Shut the fuck up.” Though, the look on his face told her he wasn’t too torn up about the jab.

And the comfortable silence resumed as the clock ticked by. He couldn’t remember when this had become familiar–when she had become familiar.

But he was sure that had he been forced to spend three months straight with any other stranger–or friend, for that matter–he would have thrown himself and them from his penthouse window by now. 

As they went through the motions, some easier than others with his…injury, he found himself sneaking glances at her face. He noticed a lot about her in these past months. Her nose always twitched whenever she’d present him a new technique to try; he’d chalked it up to nerves–cute–cute, that she thought to be nervous, as if he’d fail, he corrected himself. 

And right now, with her shoulders swaying back and forth to an inaudible song as she watched him stretch, he noted comfort, content. Her head bobbed with the motions––little thing never could sit still, could she?--and he found himself fighting a smile. Though, it fell pretty quickly when he saw her glance at the wall clock, and fumble to stuff her equipment into her bag.

“Oh my god, it’s late–I should–Good work today!” She gathered her things, and his brows furrowed as he watched her. There was a twist in his chest as he saw her scramble–where was she going in such a hurry?

“Where ya goin’?” He never was great at poker, but he still cursed himself for the way she furrowed her brows, catching the irritated edge in his voice.

She sighed, brushing it off as his usual grumpiness, “As lovely company as you are, it’s well past our time, and I have another appointment in the morning.”

“Since when?” Logically he knew that he couldn’t be her only client, but to hear her say it ground his nerves. After all, he was sure that it had been just the two of them for a while now.

“It’s always one injury or another. Y’know, for a job that means helping others, you heroes are pretty shit at taking care of yourselves.” She giggled, and while the sound eased his nerves, there was a nagging at the back of his mind.

“Hey, you eaten yet?” He trailed after her into the foyer, and a part of his brain mocked him for how pathetic he must sound–him, of all people, begging some quirkless nobody–no, not nobody, but still–begging her to stay.

She paused, turning to glance at him; a sheepish look washed over her face as she huffed an embarrassed chuckle, hand reaching to scratch at the back of her head. His eyes narrowed, but as he went to take her bag from her shoulder, she pulled from his grip.

“I’m sure I can grab a granola bar or something from the convenience store on my block, don’t worry about–”

“Fuckin’ dumbass, now who’s shit at takin’ care a’ themselves?” He ignored the knit in her brow, and moved towards the kitchen, “I got tons of shit leftover. Sit. Eat.”

She sighed, and brushed him off with another chuckle, “Maybe another time. I really should get some sleep. And so should you–rest helps the healing process. I’ll see you in a few days.”

He watched her for a beat, before deciding. He nodded, “Yeah, yeah. See ya.”

She flashed a smile and a little wave before heading out the door. He waited for a bit after it clicked shut, watching the hands tick by on the clock.

One minute. 

Two.

 Five. 

He shuffled towards his closet, throwing an old hoodie over his head with minimal strain. This isn’t creepy. He reminded himself. Idiot’s gonna get herself killed walkin’ home this late.

His face heated as he pulled up the hood. Wearin’ those spandex shorts–honestly, she was lucky he was a fuckin’ gentleman. He huffed, and headed for the door, following after her with the confidence of a man who had done so too many times before.

.♡.

“Damn, I’m jealous, if I knew all it took for some alone time with a bitch that hot was to snap my tendons–”

“Don’t be fucking gross.” He scoffed, shoving the other blonde, eyebrow twitching at the shit-eating grin his friend flashed. Maybe this was a bad idea; he scanned the men around the breakroom table–fuck, he shoulda just figured it out himself.

The other man raised his hands in mock surrender, “All I’m sayin’, bro, is if I were you, I’d a’ made a move the second a piece of ass that sweet walked itself through my door.” He turned back to the udon in front of him, digging in, broth splashing messily across his face.

He scrunched his nose in disgust, “Yeah, well I ain’t you. I’m not jumpin’ in the pants of the first bitch who opens ‘er legs for me.” He played with his own chopsticks, frustrated with the dismissal.

“Good thing too,” The raven haired man laughed, “Sparky over here’s probably got every disease in the book with the holes he sticks his dick in.” He tossed an arm around the other blonde, whose face twisted in mock hurt. 

“Least I can get it wet, Tape Boy.” The two shoved at each other, laughing, but the click of a tongue brought his attention to the unamused redhead at the end of the table.

“But she isn’t just another hole,” The shark-toothed man’s lip twisted at the last word, “This is the first time you’ve actually liked a chick. You should–”

“Who the fuck says I like her?” One glance at the unimpressed look from his friend had his face heat as he coughed, averting his gaze.

“You haven’t said shit since the incident,” The man began, “And the first thing we hear from you about the whole thing is if we know your physical therapist.”

“She works with heroes; sue me for thinkin’ you idiots might a’ met or somethin’.”

“Okay, but why are you askin’ about her schedule?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, shoving his chair back, “Forget it.” As he went to leave, the other two men jeered.

“Aww, come back! Embrace the feelings, bro!”

“Beautiful. Our little boy’s growin’ up!”

.♡.

He stormed into his office, huffing. Fuck it. If he was gonna be here, he might as well get some paperwork done. He collapsed in his chair, head to his hands as he groaned. The sound of the door opening caught his attention.

“You really need to stop stormin’ outta places before people can respond.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring the redhead, and turned to shuffle through the mass of papers on his desk. 

“Yeah, well Tweedle Dumb and Dumber needa learn to keep their damn mouths shut.”

“Ah. They don’t mean any harm,” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “Locker room talk, y’know?”

He scoffed, “What do you want?” Mood soured, his patience was running thin.

“I think I know that client you were talkin’ about–the appointment she had today.”

Now that caught his interest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But yer not gonna like the answer.”

.♡.

Bang! Bang!

“Oi, open up.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“I know you’re here, you bastard. Open the fuck up!”

BANG! BA–

“It’s five in the morning. I was asleep.” The man in question responded as the door creaked open, his red and white hair mussed, and sticking up in odd places.

He rubbed at his eyes, meeting the other’s gaze, much too intense for five in the morning–though, did the word calm ever really exist in the ash blonde’s vocabulary? 

“You break any bones? Strain a muscle? What? ‘Cause from here I can’t see shit wrong with you.”

“I’m confused. Should ‘shit be wrong with me?’” Jesus fucking Christ. He wanted to rip his hair out; there was obtuse, and then there was just plain annoying. In the years he’d known this man, he’d managed to toe the line perfectly. A talent, truly.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “You wouldn’t be hangin’ around my woman if it wasn’t…or you tellin’ me there’s another reason she’s been showin’ up at your door?”

“You have a woman?”

Are you fucking kid–

“I’m kidding.” Coulda fooled him. He met bi-colored eyes, dull as ever, and mouth set in a straight line.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re fuckin’ hilarious, now–”

A yawn interrupted him, “I’ve been informed of the situation,” Situation? “Nerve damage. Ice quirks will do that after a while. I apologize if I overstepped in my attempt to keep all my fingers intact.” A couple stiff, discolored digits waved in his face.

Yeah, sarcasm didn’t suit him. “Fuck off.” It was half a joke, but still–

“You showed up at my house.” Okay, he’d had enough. He turned to leave, but the other cleared his throat. “Though, a small piece of advice–”

“Advice?” He was getting angry again, which only flared up as a smirk formed on the other man’s face.

“Poor thing’s convinced she may have a stalker.” Shit. “I’m sure as the Number Two, you’ll be able to make her feel safe, won’t you?” Slimy bastard. 

He huffed, turning away, “Yeah, yeah. Fuck off back to sleep, ya damn space heater, I got it.” There was a hum as the door clicked shut.

He was left with his thoughts as he jogged down the sidewalk–might as well get his morning run in–but, still, why hadn’t she told him about her stalker? I mean…she trusted him, didn’t she? Ugh. This was getting annoying. He needed a plan.

.♡.

“Fuck is that?”

She hissed a bit as she took his hand into her own, palm stinging a bit from underneath its bandage.

“Oh, nothing,” She smiled sheepishly, “It’s what I get for letting my friend talk me into buying one of those fancy reflex hammers.”

At the tilt of his head and furrow of his brow, she clarified, “Real sharp at the tip, ads say that’s what makes it sleek.” She chuckled a bit, and he hummed in response. She watched him for a bit, his jaw flexing a bit in frustration.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today–what, no complaints to lodge?” She giggled, but the furrow in his brow had her creasing her own. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He snapped back to reality, pulling his gaze from where her fingers worked at his hands, “Sorry, just distracted, I guess.”

“That’s alright. What’s going on?”

He sighed, “Stopped by the office the other day–’parently crime’s been shootin’ up all around Japan.”

“And you’re upset you can’t help out yet?”

“‘S fuckin’ frustratin’, being the Number Two, and sittin’ around all day gettin’ massages while there are murderers and rapists and stalkers runnin’ fuckin’ rampant in the streets.”

She swallowed, but tried to neutralize her expression, giving a weary smile, “Oh? Lots of stalkers nowadays?” She focused her gaze back on his hands.

“Been tons a’ reports all over the city–victims are–”

“Victims?” The hiss from his mouth told her she was pressing too hard, “Sorry, sorry! Just…it’s all a bit scary isn’t it? And victims usually means…” She released his hand to sort through her bag, picking through the equipment, handing him a grip strengthener, and turned her gaze to meet his own.

“Nah, ‘s not your fault; I shouldn’t be freakin’ you out with all the details–”

“No! I mean, no. It’s okay. I want–I mean, I’m curious–what are the details?”

He gave her a look, and she cursed herself for her slip up. In the months she’d known this man, she’d realized he was one of the most annoyingly observant people she’d ever met, and while she usually found his borderline anal attention to detail endearing, she’d really hoped to keep this from him–he had more than enough on his plate already–to make him worry over someone like her would be selfish.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Yer actin’ like you’re bein’ stalked or some shit.” Fuck. Did he have some second quirk? Could he read minds?

“What? No, I’m not. I’m just…curious.” Yeah. Thank god she hadn’t gone into acting. At the unimpressed quirk of his brow she sighed, “I mean…It’s probably nothing, I’m sure I’m just–I’m just paranoid or something.”

“What the fuck? And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s probably nothing!  And..well, you’re so busy–recovery, and tryna get back in the field so you can…I just didn’t want to bother you.” She took a piece of hair in her hands, twirling and tugging as she avoided his gaze. “It’d be unprofessional of me to–”

“You gotta report that shit, dumbass!” The grip strengthener creaked with the strength at which his hand clutched at it. “‘’Sides, it’s not botherin’ me,'' Her cheeks colored, “It’s my job.” Oh. Right.

She wrapped another contraption around his fingers, gesturing for him to stretch as she took the other from his grip, “I’ve got it covered. Promise,” She sighed, “And I did report it, I just figured you had enough on your plate. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m walkin’ you home,”  She opened her mouth to protest, “Shut the fuck up. I ain’t askin’.” 

She sighed, but nodded,“Okay.” Her chest warmed a bit as a small smile pulled at her lips.

And the silence resumed, tense, but not with awkward or anxious energy, she realized. She snuck a few glances at him throughout the rest of their session. He really was a good man, wasn’t he? And, catching sight of the sharp curve of his jaw–handsome, too.

She chided herself for thinking so, but really–what was the harm in thoughts?--it was simply an observation, nothing more.

.♡. 

“It’s fuckin’ efficient. ‘Nuf said.”

“It’s fuckin’ geriatric is what it is.” She laughed, “What twenty-six year old goes to sleep at eight p.m.?” She craned her head up to catch sight of the red dusting his cheeks as they walked down the street.

“Call me geriatric all you want, but don’t come cryin’ to me when you’re fifty and yer face is saggin’ cause you never got a good night’s sleep.” She gasped, hitting him lightly on the shoulder as a smile tugged at his lips.

“You should know better than to call a woman wrinkly.”

“Good advice. Lemme know when you see one.”

She smacked his arm again as the two of them laughed, settling once she caught sight of the setting sun. “Thank you. For walking me home; it really–I mean, it’s–”

“Stop thankin’ me for givin’ a shit about you, you fuckin’ creep,” Her cheeks colored as she avoided his gaze, and he sighed, ruffling her hair a bit, “‘Sides, someone’s gotta look out for you; you’re sure as hell not gonna do it for yourself.”

She gasped in mock offense, “I’ll have you know, when I was younger, I was a certified blue belt in my–”

“Isn’t that really fuckin’ low?”

“Shut up,” They laughed lightly, and she turned to him as they came upon her doorstep. “Well, this is me.”

There was an awkward pause, and he coughed lightly, avoiding her gaze, “Right. Cool. I guess I’ll see ya–”

“You wanna come in?” She surprised herself with the words, but the red coloring his cheeks warmed her chest and eased her nerves. This was fine. They were friends.

“You sure?” Despite all the rumors and all the gossip, he really was a gentleman. Well, she’d come to know that these past months, but like this was an entirely different matter. She wasn’t quite sure why, though.

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t eaten yet–figured you might wanna hang out and yell at me for a bit about it.” She laughed lightly, pushing the keys into the lock, and brushed her hair from her eyes.

“I’ll do you one better.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ll cook you dinner, and yell at you about it.” She opened her mouth, but a devious smirk spread across his face, “‘Less yer one of those losers with an empty fridge, and cabinet full a’ junk.”

She pushed the door open, “How dare you,” She flashed a cheeky smile as she led him inside, “Instant ramen is the food of the gods.”

.♡.

“You need to be more careful!” She chided as she wiped at the cut on his face, “You’ve only been back in the field for a month, you can’t just–”

A hiss interrupted her, and she pulled the alcoholic wipe away from his cheek as he sighed, “You rather I let a building fall on a buncha kids?”

She rolled her eyes, but resumed her work, “No. But, I’d rather you have at least an ounce of self-preservation–besides, I’m not sure how many wraps and casts and wipes we’ve got left in the budget.”

A sly smirk spread on his face, “Oh. I see,” He readjusted her in his lap as she wiped at his wounds, “Yer in physical therapist mode right now, huh? And here I thought my girl might actually be worried about me for a second.”

She smacked lightly at his arm, setting down her wipes to peck at his cheek, “I can be in physical therapist mode and girlfriend mode when it means you’ve gone off and gotten yourself hurt again.”

She rolled off his lap, tossing the bloody tissues in the trash as he trailed after her into the bathroom. She opened the cabinets, bending over to sort through the shelves. He grabbed her by the hips, and she shoved him off playfully.

“Not now, horny. I’m looking for a wrap.”

“Ah. Think we’re out.”

She stood, smacking him lightly, “See! What was I just saying?”

“I’ll head to the store in the morning, just come to bed,” He groaned, turning her in his arms, “‘M tired.”

She gave him a skeptical look before glancing down briefly, “I think your little friend may disagree.”

“Who you callin’ little?” His hands snaked down, pinching at the swell in her ass as she squealed, pushing out of his arms, and trailed into the bedroom. She glanced around, stopping once she spotted his closet door.

“Hey, where ya goin’?” He stalked after her.

“I don’t trust you. I’m gonna check for more first aid supplies.” She walked towards the closet, and, following her gaze, he pulled her by the wrist, bouncing her backwards onto the bed. She yelped as he collapsed on top of her, “What the hell? Get off! I can’t–can’t breathe–”

“Nah. Like I said, ‘m tired.”

She giggled out his name, trying to push the hulking mass off of her, “I’m serious! You’re–you’re hurt, we need to take care of–”

“We need to take care a’... what was it you said? My little friend?” One of his hands worked its way up her shirt as he readjusted them on the bed, “Only thing that’s hurtin’ right now is my ego…little, I should take you over my damn knee for that, y’know.” 

She laughed, sighing as his fingers made their way under her bra, “You’re so—you’re such a baby.”

“Oh yeah?” His thumb swirled her nipple as he smirked. Legs thrown over his shoulders, she looked up at him between half-lidded eyes while he worked off her shirt.

“Yeah.” She let out a breath as a tingling in her gut started to form. His canines grazed her neck, tongue flicking out to lick a stripe up the warm flesh.

“We’ll see about that.” He bit down, chuckling deeply at the whimper forced from her lips.

.♡. 

“Please–please–I don’t–I think someone’s here, I’m sorry to–to call you, but–”

“Stay right fuckin’ there. I’ll be there in five.”

“I’m–It’s pretty far, are you sure–”

“I can run. Stay on the–” She pressed the end button as at the sound of a bang–a door kicked open. The coat closet maybe? That means they were close. Too close. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, eyes squeezing shut, reopening with fresh, hot tears. 

Slow and steady, the sound of footfall was creaking down the wooden expanse of her hallway. Headed towards her, she realized. No. Please. She clutched her hand to her face, fingers pinching her nose to quiet the sounds of her breathing. This was it, wasn’t it? This was–

BANG! 

And then a frenzy of footsteps, crazed and seemingly unaware of their destination filled her ears. A shout. A shout? Wait…was that–but still, she didn’t dare breathe. Not until–

“Where the fuck are you?” The sound of her name being growled from a familiar baritone brought her back to reality, and she shakily pushed the door to the closet open from her place curled up on the floor.

“He–Here. I’m–I’m here.” The edge of her voice was cracking with tears as he pushed into the room, kneeling in front of her collapsed form. He gathered her in his arms, and the dam broke, snot and tears staining the soft polyester of his shirt as he carried her to the bed.

“Dumbass–scared the shit outta me–I told you to stay on the fucking–”

“Sorry–I’m sorry. I’m–I was just–I’m sorry…” She balled the fabric of his shirt in her fists as she sobbed. A large hand came to pet her hair, soothing her as it pulled the wet strands from her face, and tucked them behind her ear.

“S’ okay. I know. I’m here–you’re okay.” He sighed, burying his nose into her hair, taking a breath as his other arm soothed at her back. She sighed, gathering herself as she pushed a little bit out of his arms to meet his eyes.

“I–I just got home and–and all my drawers–they were open, and so I…” She sighed shakily, swallowing her tears, “Some of my clothes–my underwear–it’s gone, I–it’s getting worse, they’ve never–not until today–never come inside.” Her eyes shifted, “Well…I don’t think they have, but that’s…”

“That’s it,” She looked up at him, caught off guard a bit by the edge in his voice, “This shit is getting ridiculous. Yer movin’ in.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but a sharp look from crimson eyes killed the words in her throat. He sighed, readjusting her in his lap, taking her face in his hand as he pressed a peck to her jaw.

“I don’t wanna–I don’t wanna force ya, but shit, babe, this is…” He sighed, “‘M not always gonna be nearby on patrol, and if somethin’ happened to you, I’d never fuckin’ forgive myself. Even tonight–motherfucker got away from me.”

“I know,” She sagged, wrapping her arms around his middle, sighing, “I just…I feel so–this isn’t what you signed up for–I don’t want to be a burden to–”

“Shut the fuck up,” She jumped a bit, and his fingers spidered down her back in placation, “Sorry. Just…yer not a damn burden. I fuckin’...” She looked up to see red crawling up his neck and color his cheeks as he avoided her gaze, “I fuckin’ love you.”

He looked down at her now, and her breath hitched in her throat at the intensity burning in his eyes.

She felt heat crawl up her own cheeks, and a smile pulled at her lips despite herself–despite the situation, “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said I fuckin’--demon woman, fuck you.” He scoffed, but the hand at her back didn’t stop its ministrations, even as she giggled.

“No, I’m serious. I didn’t–I didn’t hear you, can’t you–ah!” He rolled them over, collapsing on top of her on the bed.

“Sorry. Can’t remember.” His hands trailed up her sides, and she began to squeal, laughing.

“Stop–Stop! Too–Too ticklish–please!” 

“Huh? What was that?” She shrieked, trying and failing to wiggle from beneath his assault on her sides.

“I said–I said I–I love you!” He stopped his torture, smirking down at her as she caught her breath.

“Damn right.” He dipped down, pecking her lips.

.♡.  

“And you’re sure it’s alright?”

“For the four hundredth time, yes. It’s more than fine; I’m the one who fuckin’ offered.”

She rocked back and forth on her heels in the elevator, various boxes and suitcases littered around the two of them as they headed for the penthouse floor. “I know, it’s just…”

“Stop that–I know that face; you’re fuckin’ fine–I love you. I want you here, you idiot.”

She sighed, nodding to herself as she watched the floors climb on the wall of the elevator. “Okay. Okay, yeah. I love you too.” Internally she calmed; it would be nice to sleep without waking up every hour paranoid that she’d heard the snap of a camera.

The sound of a ding pulled her from her thoughts, and she readjusted the boxes in her arms as the doors slid open, and the two made their way into the penthouse living room. She caught sight of the floor to ceiling windows, and set down her things while he worked to unpack. He nodded towards the bedroom.

“You’ve been here plenty a’ times. Feel free to take a shower or somethin’, and I’ll start on dinner. We’ll unpack as we go.”

She nodded, sending one more glance back to the expanse of skyline beneath her, finding that no matter how familiar she was with the view, her legs would never fail to shake with anxiety at the sight of the clouds hugging the edges of the buildings, obscuring her view of the bottom–of the rest of the world. She turned to head towards the bedroom.

“Gotta spare towel an’ shit for ya in there!” He called after her as she disappeared behind the door before he set her things down, heading for the open-floor kitchen. 

.♡.  

She stepped out of the shower, tightly wrapping a towel around herself, and swiped away at the condensed water clinging to the mirror to catch sight of her own reflection. She sighed, nodding to herself; this was fine. They loved each other–who cares that they’d only been together a couple months–they’d known each other longer; that had to count for something, right?

She groaned, moving into the bedroom to search for her clothes. Oh. Right. She thought to call for him, but, peeking out the crack in the door, found him, brows furrowed, chopping furiously at onions in the kitchen. Cute. She scanned the room, finding his closet door, and decided to search through his own clothes–he liked to give her shirts to wear, anyways.

She opened the door, stepping inside the large walk-in, and sifted through his drawers, pulling on a pair of boxers. She glanced around in search of a comfortable shirt, eyes catching on a small door–almost a cabinet–hidden on the back wall behind the racks. How curious. She kneeled down, and moved to open it, but–

“The fuck are you doin’?”

She yelped, hitting her head on the rack, hissing, and turned to face him, a sheepish look washing over her face, “Oh! Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to pry, I just–”

“I told ya I set shit out for ya.” The agitation in his voice set a strange feeling alight in her mind, but she brushed it off as his usual obsessive-compulsive nature. 

She rubbed at her head, half-sheepish, half soothing the pain, and smiled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see anything out there. I didn’t mean to snoop. Really.”

He studied her for a moment, but huffed, and gestured with his eyes to follow him into the bedroom. He glanced around, finding folded up clothes fallen half-way beneath the bed on the dark-wood floor. He kneeled, picking them up, and handed her the shirt, moving into his closet to return the rest.

“Musta fallen off the bed. Sorry.” His voice was a bit muffled by the distance, “Didn’t mean to freak out on ya. Been meanin’ to seal that shit up for a while now. Damn rats keep gettin’ in.” 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for not asking you.” She threw the black skull shirt over her head as he returned, shutting the closet door. “I know how you feel about your privacy, so…”

“Yeah. Yer fine,” He moved closer, kissing the crown of her head, “Dinner’s almost ready. ‘M fuckin’ beat. Let’s start unpacking tomorrow.”

.♡. 

“And there’s nothing? Not one clue?” She folded up her clothes in the bedroom’s new wardrobe. He’d told her that the closet was being renovated to fit the two of them, providing her an expensive but temporary solution. 

“‘M just as frustrated as you, babe. How do you think I feel, bein’ a top hero and still not bein’ able to protect my girl.” He huffed, handing her articles of clothing from a half-unpacked box as they talked.

“You’ve done more than protect me; it’s not your fault,” She sighed, fingers flexing, tightening subconsciously on the shirt she was holding, “I just…”

“I know, and…” He clicked his tongue, scanning her, “Yer not gonna like what I haveta say next.”

She swallowed, and he watched her throat bob, steeling his nerves. He was so close. He set the box aside, gesturing for her to join him on the bed. She sat herself in his lap, and he brushed her hair from her face, sighing, avoiding her gaze for good measure. Really draw it out.

“I think you should quit yer job.”

“What? Why would I–”

“Just fer now,” His hand soothed at her thigh, “‘An’ I can take care a’ things. Just ‘til shit dies down.” Yeah. That sounds good. And if shit just happens not to die down…Well, he was more than happy to provide.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any clues.”

Sometimes he wished he was attracted to dumber women. She pushed off his lap, and resumed her work, stuffing clothes inside the drawers with renewed anger.

He realized he didn’t appreciate her anger–did she not realize he was trying to keep her safe? It’s fine. He could fix that. He stood, hand to her shoulder to turn her, and calm her.

“Not any solid ones, but,” His eyes shifted, searching for the words, “Yer always comin’ back late–by yourself–if they found where you were livin’--you think they don’t know where yer workin’?” It was a bit hard not to revel for a bit in the irony–made him feel powerful–but it also made him realize just how weak she was, how unaware, how fragile. 

“Well…they haven’t followed me here.”

“Cause this place is maximum fuckin’ security,” He smirked, chest puffing a bit as a sort of sick pride bloomed in his chest,“‘Sides, ain’t no one’s messin’ with the Number Two. Heh. Love to see ‘em try.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing his hand from her shoulder, and made her way to the living room to retrieve another box, “I’m glad you’re feeling safe.” Okay, fine. Probably not the best time to be peacocking, but really, would a pat on the back kill her?

“That ain’t what I meant. Hey,” He trailed after her, “‘M serious. Sue me fer wantin’ you alive.”

She swallowed, avoiding her eyes. Whatever. He sighed internally. He really didn’t like scaring her. But honestly, she needed to learn: he was going to get his way–this was for her own good. He’d seen so much death and destruction in his short life, so much pain and suffering and–nevermind that–he would make sure she didn’t have to, no matter what she had to say about it.

“Hey,” His voice softened as he approached her, “Just…just promise you’ll think about it, alright?” He brought a hand to her cheek, and she leaned in, sighing.

She nodded, “Alright.”

.♡. 

Ring ring!  Ring ring!  Ring ri–

Your call has been forwarded to the voicemail for–

“Shit. Please. Come on…”

Ring ring! 

“Come on, come on.”

Ring ring! 

“Answer. Answer. Please answer.”

Ring ri–

Your call has been for–

“Shit!” She clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes darting side to side, and glanced over her shoulder as she sped down the dimly lit sidewalk.

Just her luck, she thought. Take on a new client, you said. It’ll be fine, you said. Who cares that they live in the middle of goddamn nowhere? The trains will still be running; it won’t be too late. Idiot. 

She huffed, heart threatening to beat out of her chest; every shifting shadow was a threat; every kick of a stray rock, every honk of a distant car horn–everything–was sending lightning through her nerves, blood roaring so loudly in her ears she could barely hear herself think. 

The fall of a raindrop on her nose had her jump, though she began to groan as the pitter-patter of rainfall filled the streets. But then—

“You look lost, pretty girl.” A deep, distorted chuckle cut through her resolve as if it were made of ribbons, and her legs sprung forward before she could think to turn around.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Not now; please not now.

Running frantically and without direction, she turned left then right then left then right then right again, lungs burning, and tears obscuring her vision, not knowing if her breath and voice were stolen by exertion or terror or both.

She slowed once she gathered herself enough to take in her surroundings. Where was she? And then, interrupting her thoughts, a slow, heavy footfall, too casual, too comfortable, started to make its way towards her.

“It’s rude to ignore people, you know,” No. Fuck. Left? Right? Where was home? Where was–“Hey, I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch.”

Fuck it. Left it was. Her gym bag jostled on her shoulder, a stray, initialed gym towel flying from the partially opened side-compartment into the wind behind her as she took off. 

“Hey! Get the fuck back here!” 

She turned briefly over her shoulder to catch sight of the figure–dressed in all black, head to toe–and let out a cry, pushing forward again, “Please! Leave me alone! I don’t know–I don’t know what you want from me!” Right.

There was that ugly laugh again, closer than before, and she willed her burning legs and lungs forward. Left. Back on the main road, good.

“Aww, I just wanna talk is all. What,” The voice turned darker, “You don’t wanna talk?”

Terrifying implications aside, she was nearly annoyed with him–him?--annoyed with what little effort he seemed to put into hunting her like some animal, not having even broken a sweat in his pursuit. She tossed her gym bag from her shoulder, hitting him square in the face, running with renewed vigor.

“Ah-Fuck! Bitch!”

She turned down another alley; maybe she could throw him off her trail. Fuck it. Turning again and again and again until she could no longer hear the sounds of wet shoes slapping the pavement behind her. She looked over her shoulder: nothing. Looking left, looking right: nothing. Only the sound of rainshower pouring down as if angry in and of itself. Join the club.

The quiet was nearly unsettling, but she forced a sigh from her lungs, deciding to stealthily find her way out of the maze she’d created for herself without alerting her predator. Which way was it now? Ugh. Maybe…that way? She turned–

Slam!

Her face hit a brick wall–no–her face hit a warm chest as hard as a brick wall. Fuck. This was it. She was going to die, right? She didn’t want to die. She swallowed, chest tightening, and nausea building, but–

“Holy shit! You’re fuckin’ freezing!”

She looked up to find scarlet eyes wide with worry, his large hands rubbed up and down her freezing wet arms, soothing the hairs stood on end. She let out a shaky sigh as she studied his face, half in disbelief and half in sheer relief. Though, her brow furrowed, shaking her head a bit in confusion upon spotting the pink strap of her gym bag hanging loosely from his shoulder.

“What–Where did you find that?”

“Huh?”

“My bag. Where did you find my bag?” She was getting agitated. This was paranoia, right? She pulled from his grip, noting the slight narrowing of his eyes before they returned to their previous concern. Was she imagining things? He put his hands up in surrender.

“Woah, chill, chill! I was out fuckin’ lookin’ for you. Left my phone at home while I was on my run, just got yer messages when I came back, and sprinted fer my fuckin’ life into the pourin’ rain tryna find you. I just found the damn thing abandoned on the side a’ the road.”

He sighed, taking a wet and matted strand of her hair from her cheek, brushing it behind her ear, “Yer gonna send me to an early fuckin’ grave y’know. When I saw it layin’ there on the street, I thought…” He swallowed, avoiding her gaze, voice cracking, “I thought you were…”

How cruel she was. To throw such accusations. She fell into his arms, out of guilt or adoration, she didn’t know, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–I keep making you worry, and–I just–I was so…” Her voice left her, sobs overtaking her body.

He comforted her in his embrace while the rain poured down around them, sticking their hair to their faces and clothes to their skin, stray raindrops catching on their eyelashes as they pulled away to find each other’s gazes.��

And, with tears and rain mixing on their cheeks, he brought his lips to her own, breath warming her cold lips before she pushed forward, arms tangling in his hair as his own locked around her waist, tight and close and safe. Safe. A shared thought between them, though, with two entirely different meanings.

.♡. 

“Gotta call the Commission. Had half the damn city out searchin’ for ya.” His thumb swiped over her cheek, eyes giving her a once-over–freshly showered with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, teacup steaming in her hands as she sat, in her silk pajamas and fuzzy socks, curled up on the living room couch.

She nodded, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead before excusing himself. The murmur of the sugary-sweet, altogether too happy movie he’d put on faded to the background as she turned to watch the skyline beneath her, a gray film obscuring the warm yellows and oranges that glowed in the distance. 

She sighed, mentally kicking herself for her stubbornness. He had warned her this may happen. And because of her arrogance, Japan’s best heroes were wasting their time searching for her when they had much more important things to be doing–real problems to deal with. How selfish. She huffed, swiping away a stray tear, and turned to smile at him as he returned.

“Yeah yeah. I owe ya one. Now fuck off, would you?” Ending the call, he fell into the seat beside her, hand rubbing down his face, exhausted. That’s your fault. 

She sighed, “Is everything okay?”

He looked at her, giving a weary smile, and her chest burned, “Mm. All good. We should be worryin’ about you, dumbass.” No, we shouldn’t.

She swallowed, scooching closer to him on her couch, “I was–I think that,” she huffed, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest, “You were right. I’ll–if it’s still alright, I can stop working for a bit. So you don’t have to worry–to worry about me too much.” 

Her cheeks burned in shame as she avoided his gaze, but the palm of his hand turned her face towards him. She nearly jumped at the emotion glowing in his eyes, burning with an intensity she’d not fully seen before, eyes locked on her own, yet, hollow, as if he wasn’t really looking at her. Through her? No…

“Fuck yeah, it’s alright. C’mere,” He pulled her into his lap, and she realized what it reminded her of, as he regarded her with the sheer glee a child would show upon receiving a new toy, admiring her like some possession. No. Maybe he was just getting worked up–that must be it. The day had been stressful, right?

He began pressing hot, wet kisses to her neck, “Just stick with me. I’ll keep ya safe, baby. Promise.” His teeth grazed up her flesh, and she felt goosebumps start to form.

She nodded, cheeks burning in embarrassment at her growing dependency, but the feel of his hand under her shirt brought her back to reality.

“Oh–oh. I was–I don’t know if…” She was tired. So tired. Her limbs and mind weighed with growing self-disgust and an increasing sense of helplessness. The last thing she felt right now was sexy.

“Lie down for me.” He flipped her on her back before she could answer, working off her shirt, and his hands pulled at the waistband of her shorts. He kissed down her sternum, leaving small bite shaped bruises in his path.

She called his name, hand to his shoulder, not pushing, but stiff, “Maybe we should–I’m not really–” He hooked his fingers into the side of her underwear and something jumped a bit in her chest. Fear. It couldn’t be fear.

He sat up as he peeled off the last of her clothes, “Fuck. You keep scarin’ me and scarin’ me…might gimme a fuckin’ heart attack one day.” He wasn’t looking at her, arms wrapping around her thighs to pull her legs around his hips. She squealed a bit as she was dragged further down, but didn’t protest.

She fell silent, he just loved her is all, this was fine. Didn’t she owe him at least this? Still, the thought didn’t sit right in some near-forgotten part of her mind.

He ripped off his shirt, defined abs and arms flexing in the moonlight before bringing his thumb to swirl at her clit, smirking when her hips jumped from the stimulation, muscles flexing and unflexing. She took her lip between her teeth, eyes slowly losing focus.

“That’s it. Fuck, that’s hot.” He took two of his calloused fingers into his mouth, tongue flicking out to wet the digits, drool dripping as they popped from his lips. Moving down to play at her lower lips, they forced themselves into her without warning.

She winced a bit at the stretch, but the roll of his thumb over her clit eased the burn. She tried to rationalize the situation in her mind. They’d had sex so many times before, why was this any different?

She swallowed as the knot built, thoughts flying from her brain as her legs tensed and shuddered against his hips, walls tightening around his fingers. Closer and closer. He sped his motions, rubbing furiously at her swollen bud. She began to tremble in anticipation, whimpers turning to open mouthed moans, head thrown back.

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?”

An alarm went off in her brain.

“You look lost, pretty girl.”

But it was too late, his fingers curled and pumped into her, hitting a spot that had her melting, and her eyelids and pussy fluttered in gratification as her eyes crossed, vision going white. 

When she came down from her high, he was pulling her to her feet, and towards the windows.

But, “What did–what did you just call me?” It came out quietly, meekly, and she briefly wondered if that was really her voice. 

She shivered at the sheer intensity with which he regarded her, either not hearing, or ignoring her question altogether. He spun her around, and gripped her hips harshly, pulling them towards him, forcing her to arch her back. Face and hands pressed to the glass, she breathed his name as he worked his cock from his boxers.

Why wasn’t he listening?

“You don’t gotta worry about nothin’ from now on,” He sighed, sliding his cock between her folds, gathering the wetness, and huffed a low chuckle, “‘Cept sittin’ pretty at home, an’ keepin’ my cock warm in bed. Sound good, baby?”

She was used to dirty talk, but this was…strange, “What are–”

On hand caught her hair between his fingers, tugging at the roots as he leaned forward, breath wet and hot in her ear.

“‘Sit here all safe and sweet for me, yeah?” The hand tightened, and she felt a few strands ripped loose.

“Ah—it hurts, I—”

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.”

“Yeah—Yes. Yes, but—”

His cockhead breached her walls, and she whimpered. No matter how many times she took him, she’d never grow used to his size. In some form of placation, he kissed at the back of her neck, and behind her ear. It wasn’t working. He pulled back, and the hand in her hair met her throat, fingers flexing as they felt her racing pulse.

“‘S all yer good for anyways, huh?” That stung more than his cock bottoming out inside her. Too big. Please. Slow down. Just—

“That’s alright,” he licked his lips, pinching at the fat of her ass, forcing a yelp from her throat, before he began to thrust, fucking her hard against the window. Wait—

Through choked moans and whimpers, “I don’t…ah–” His hips snapped forward, hitting that special spot inside her, and taking her voice. Please.

“It’s alright, I forgive ya,” He huffed a laugh, close to her ear again, “I love you, after all.”

.♡. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She tried to stamp down the building irritation, but really, “I could have taken it myself.” Did he really think her that incapable?

“It ain’t a bit deal,” She watched as he worked, heavy weight on his shoulders as he squatted, “‘Sides, I was due for a gauntlet upgrade–was on my way,” He side-eyed her as he stood, “Said she’d fix it right up for ya. As a favor.”

The clang of the weight hitting the floor made her jump, “I mean…That’s nice of her–your inventor friend–but I still don’t understand what happened?” Her legs swayed back and forth on the exercise bench in an attempt to soothe her antsy nerves.

He moved to the smaller, hand weights, “Like I said…You knocked it off the nightstand last night,” Sighing as if her question were an inconvenience, “Thought someone broke in with the sound of it fuckin’ shattering.”

She didn’t know she moved in her sleep, or that she was that deep a sleeper. She also didn’t know that phones could break so easily, but she didn’t want to question him–he was going out on a limb for her to fix it for free, but still…

“Well…thank you, but I could have gone with you. I feel like I haven’t been outside in forever, and I’ve been getting a bit…restless.” He’d insisted on her near total confinement until this stalker of hers was found. Which he also said might take a while. What was a while?

“Maybe you can come with me when it’s ready, yeah?” 

She sighed a bit in relief, “Yeah,” Her eyes shifted a bit, “Thank you, though, for–”

“Like I said, stop thankin’ me for given’ a shit about you,” Wiping at his neck with a towel, he stood, and she followed him into the foyer, “Alright. I gotta head out. I’ll try an’ be back before dark this time.” She hummed, and he kissed the crown of her head, giving her a once over, and nodded to himself, heading for the door.

She sighed to herself as the door clicked shut, and turned, eyes scanning over the expanse of the penthouse. This was fine. She had plenty to do–she could make herself useful. Keep herself busy. Maybe then she could ignore the hollow in her chest that had opened who knows how long ago–she could make this work. She had to.

.♡. 

She nudged the closet door open with her hip, carrying the laundry basket inside. She’d gotten used to this routine, and she tried to reclaim some of the peace she used to feel in the silence. She began to fold up the articles, placing them in the drawers. With this impractically large, new closet, laundry day had become a strenuous task on its own.

He had told her she didn’t need to do all this, and in all honesty it did make her feel like a mix between housewife and maid. But what else was there? It wasn’t safe outside, he’d said. She just had to wait a bit more. She could do that. And she really didn’t like upsetting him–not after everything he’d done for her.

She lost track of the time, humming to herself as she worked, closing the drawers, and moving on to place the rest of the clothes on hangers. The lack of music in her ears had a bitter feeling pull at her heart–he’d just taken her phone without asking. He’d started to do a lot of things without asking. No. He loved her; he’d just wanted to do something nice for her. The bitterness melted onto her heart and burned.

How ungrateful.

She was nearly done now, just the back racks left. As she moved to set the basket down she caught sight of pink nylon–her gym bag on the floor, hidden behind the racks. The burn faded, and nostalgia took its place. She kneeled, pulling it from its place propped up against the since sealed shut cabinet–rats, he had reminded her.

She unzipped the bag, and sorted through the equipment. She pulled out the grip strengthener, smiling a bit, and turned it in her hands, finger running along the crack in the metal.

Crack!

“Oh shit!” He laughed, “My bad.” 

“Now, what did you have to go and do that for?” He handed it back to her, and she turned it in her hands, catching sight of the cracked metal, before looking up, and smacking his shoulder. 

“Asshole!” She laughed “You know how hard it is to find a quality grip strengthener?”

His brow furrowed as his eyes flickered to the device in her hands, “I dunno,” a sly smile spreading as he shrugged, “All I’m hearin’ is that you’ve never been taught what quality means.” He moved closer, and she shoved his face away.

“Don’t be gross,” Still, she smiled as she pulled back, “I’m still your physical therapist for one more week.”

“Yeah? And then what?” He smirked.

Her smile turned mischievous, “Huh. I’m not sure,” She looked into the distance, as if contemplating something, “Travel the world? Finally learn how to cook? Steal the moon? Who knows, I–ah!”

He pulled her into his lap with a force that had both of the tumbling to the floor, noses touching. A blink. And then they were laughing, her hands by his head, and his hands on her hips. They settled, and she caught sight of an emotion akin to admiration in his eyes,

“I got a few ideas of what you could do.” His eyes flickered to her lips, fingers flexing on her hips.

“Oh yeah?” She sighed a breath onto his lips.

“Yeah,” He puffed out a breath, but contained himself, flipping them over, and smirking as she squealed, “But we’re not leavin’ this room ‘til I show you what quality really means.” 

She hadn’t realized she was crying until her tears hit the cool metal. She can’t remember the last time he looked at her like that, with admiration that didn’t equal possession.

She sighed, wiping furiously at her face, and shoved it into the bag. What was the use of stewing over something she had no control of? But still, she couldn’t help the building anger in her chest as she moved to put the bag away. Hide away the memories.

She caught sight of the sealed cabinet, and paused. No. He valued his privacy. And he’d told her rats had gotten in through the wall. She’d never seen rats before. But, he also took her phone without asking, and told her it shattered. She’d never been a heavy sleeper. She tried to ignore the guilt that gnawed at her; it somehow felt wrong to criticize him–he was doing his best.

There was a familiar feeling of nausea mixing with the guilt creating an overwhelming wave of unease that poured over her nerves. Fuck it. She shuffled through her bag. Where was it? Where was it? There.

She pulled a reflex hammer from inside, turning it backwards, testing the sharp metal tip at its base with her finger. Guess you are good for something. She shuffled forwards, scratching at the sealant of the cabinet, brows furrowed in determination, and mouth set in a hard line as she peeled the rubbery substance from the creases. Almost. Closer. Closer. Done.

She sighed, setting the hammer in the bag, hesitating a bit as her fingers curled over the side crease–why was there no handle? It creaked open, and the smell of dust filling her nostrils had her sneezing. Collecting herself, she waved away the dust, squinting as it settled. 

Inside lay a wooden box of sorts–crate, maybe?--wooden something. Curious. She pulled it into her lap with some strain, prying off the top, and hissing at the sting under her fingernails as they caught on the edge. It fell off with a thump, and she peered inside.

What is that?

Her breath caught in her throat, eyes wide and trembling. An initialed gym towel. If he’d found it that night…why hadn’t he given this back to her?

And…polaroids? She couldn’t breathe. Was that–No. They were too blurry. Too dark. It couldn’t be…

No. No. No.

A few wads of hair–her hair? She couldn’t breathe. Her heart beat against her ribs, blood flow filling her ears like the roaring wave of unease. Except, it wasn’t unease. Were those her clothes?

This didn’t make sense.

Trembling fingers reached inside, pulling out something soft and cotton. Was that..Was that her underwear?

It wasn’t unease.

It was freezing, burning, suffocating terror. But the break in, that chase, how–how had he–?

“Yeah yeah. I owe ya one. Now fuck off, would you?”

Owe ya one. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. No. No. 

This made perfect sense.

She couldn’t fucking breathe.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

She dropped the article as if it had burned her skin, falling back on her hands as she scrambled away. She didn’t want to be near that box. She didn’t want to be anywhere near–

A sigh cut her off, and she had to will her frozen limbs to move. All she could manage was the slight turn of her head. It was enough.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and eyes cold–she didn’t know red could be cold–calculating as he scanned the scene.

He clicked his tongue, bringing a hand to his hair, tipping his head back as he ran his fingers through the locks. A slow, deep, building, familiar chuckle. His eyes snapped back to hers, and every nerve in her body burst with fear.

“Now,” He huffed a laugh, smirk pulling at his lips, “What did you have to go and do that for?”

#yandere bnha #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere mha #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere katsuki #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugo katsuki #this is much longer than i planned lol #hope it's alright

[zep-zep-blog]

This is 100% based off the song and episodes 🫡. I also might rewrite this to fit Lucifer too.

Vox x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, fluffy ending, hurt/comfort, song fic

Cw: Imposter, talk of being replaced, mind control(?), swearing, fighting

☾Seeing doubles☽

Reader and Vox are getting married, but something seems off about reader and Vox seems more laggy than usual. Is it nerves or something else?

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Velvette knew something was off. She always had a hunch about something. She knew when Valentino hid his anger or at least tried..and failed, she knew when you and Vox tried to hide your relationship at first, hell she even knew Vox wanted to marry you before he knew himself. Yet she couldn't pinpoint what was off about you and Vox. You guys acted like normal, but Vox seemed more dazed than usual and you seemed to snap at random. That definitely wasn't right, but she chalked it up to nerves or stress about the upcoming wedding and all the planning that had consumed your daily schedule.

It started off small, making comments you usually wouldn't make, having a strange aura, and overall just acting off. Then, she noticed your taste was different, liking a different flavor of cake and other desserts. Then your style was weird, you had always wanted a certain type of outfit for the wedding and yet there you stood in the bridal store wearing something you would never even look at.

Vox was no different, he always had an 'all bark, no bite' vibe, but he seemed more dazed, and laggy, and he blue-screened more than usual. Again, it could all be chalked up to wedding nerves and cold feet or whatever. But when Velvette had a hunch, it was usually right.

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She placed hidden cameras around, ones that Vox couldn't connect to. She hired imps and sinners she made deals with to follow you and Vox around. She constantly tried to keep an eye on you and it finally paid off. She had caught you talking about not loving Vox and sucking the love out of him, this confused and worried her. This person wasn't you, you loved Vox dearly and definitely showed it.

When she found this out she tried to share it with Valentino, but he was both stubborn and blind to hear her out. She tried to get through to Vox, but he lagged and shooed her away. She was frustrated and royally pissed off, someone definitely replaced you and she will get to the bottom of it.

She decided to confront your imposter at dinner before the wedding in hopes of them coming forward. Unfortunately, it ended with everyone shunning her and shutting her down. She left the restaurant pissed, no one was listening to her clearly concerning revelation. She turned the corner and was face to face with you? The imposter?

"Oh, what do you want? I know you aren't the real [Name]." She says with a sour tone.

"Oh, I just wanted to apologize." Your voice rang out, but it had a creepy undertone.

"What the fuck-" Velvette gets cut off as a ring of green fire surrounds her and her vision goes black.

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For what felt like months you were trapped, stuck in this mirror-like prison. With no light except the natural red one that reflected off the crystal-like cave walls. You felt helpless, and scared, with no idea what that monster did to Vox. She was hungry for power and love, she fed off it.

You were so excited, to walk down the aisle with your fiance. To share vows, kisses, and cake, but now? It seemed all too futile. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying tears of frustration and sadness. Your hair was messy from being kept from a hairbrush for heaven knows how long. You had a few scrapes and bruises from wandering aimlessly in the dark, unable to see where a rock or wall was.

That was how it was until you heard the familiar voice of Velvette echo through the caves. Soon she found you, her phone flashlight bouncing off the crystal walls as her eyes met yours.

"[Name]? Is that really you? You're not that prick that replaced you, right?" She asked, looking you over with concern and weariness.

You nod several times, tears welling in your eyes as you hug her. This is the first contact you had with anyone for a long time. It wasn't the warmth of Vox, but it was still comforting nonetheless.

"We have to get out of this shit hole and stop her," Velvette says, pointing her phone flashlight toward the end of the crystal tunnel.

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"This day is going to be perfect. The kind of day of which I dreamed since I was small." Your imposter said, spinning a red rose in between her fingers before putting it into the bouquet.

"Everybody will gather 'round, say I look lovely in my gown." She said, twirling in the mirror, the white lace and silk of the outfit spinning around her figure. "But, what they don't know is that I have fooled them all." She smirks, placing the matching accessory in her hair. She had successfully replaced you and would soon get what she wanted.

'This day was going to be perfect..the kind of day of which I dreamed since I was small..but, instead of having cake with all my friends to celebrate. My wedding bells, may not ring for me at all..'

You and Velvette raced desperately to find a way out, hoping to make it before your double married Vox. You feared what would happen if those vows were made before you could escape.

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"I could care less about the dress." She said, taking a seat at the vanity. "I won't partake in any cake." She took one of the makeup brushes and applied blush to her cheeks. Your replacement stood up and again did a once over in the mirror before turning to a picture of you and Vox. It was your anniversary, both of you smiling and facing the camera. "Vows? Well, I'll be lying when I say, 'That through any kind of weather I'll want us to be together.'" There was a mocking tone in her voice as she scowled at the photo.

"The truth is I don't care for him at all." She took the picture frame and shoved it into one of the dresser drawers, slamming it shut in disdain. "No, I do not love the groom. In my heart, there is no room."

'But I still want him to be all mine.'

"We must escape before it's too late, find a way to save the day." You say to Velvette, searching around for an exit to the reflective prison. She places her hand on your shoulder, breaking you out of your desperate daze. "We'll make it. Don't worry.

'Hope I'll be lying when I say 'I don't fear that I may lose him to those who want to use him. Not care for love and cherish him each day. For I-oh so love the groom. All my thoughts he does consume.'

You and Velvette finally find an exit, rushing to see the surface of hell. You hope that time will be on your side and those wedding bells won't ring soon.

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'Oh Vox, I'll be there very soon.' You pray to the same god that condemned you down here as you and Velvette weed through the streets of the entertainment district. Hoping the crowd would move faster so you could make it to the venue before your imposter made it down the aisle. You and Velvette make it to the entrance, weaving in and out of the crowd as the wedding bells ring out. You look at Velvette with wide eyes, doubt clouds hers as she realizes there's a chance you won't make it.

'Finally, the moment has arrived for me to be one lucky bride.' She smirked as she walked down the aisle, your aisle towards your future husband. Her veil trails behind her as she steps in tune with the wedding march being played.

'Oh, the wedding we won't make, he'll end up marrying a fake. Vox will be-'

'Mine. All mine.'

She gets to the alter, facing a dazed and glitchy Vox. He was clearly under some sort of magic or curse as she stood there. Right as the officiant clears his throat to start his speech you burst through the doors. The guests gasped and turned their heads, there you stood looking madder than ever. The guests looked back and forth between you and the imposter, not knowing who was real and who wasn't. The sinner in your place stared daggers at you, throwing the bouquet to the floor.

"You bitch!" You screamed, pointing fingers at your double. The room went silent, most of the crowd was shocked. "H-how are there two of you?" One of the guests shouts, causing the rest to start whispering amongst themselves.

"She's a shapeshifter! She takes any form and gains power from the love you have for someone!" This caused the fake you to cackle. She stepped forward, smashing the bouquet. "Right, you are. I've been feeding off his love for you, every second I grow stronger." She stepped towards you, green flames engulfing her as she transformed back into her original form. "He may not be my husband, but he is under my total control-" You cut her off by punching her in the face and knocking her to the floor. At this point, the only people left were you, her, and the Vees, the guests had left in a hurry as soon as she transformed.

"Fuck with me or Vox again and I'll remind you why I'm down here." You glare, your words sharp. Her eyes were wide, you had landed a hit on her when she had been practically untouchable for years. She scowled, "This won't be the last time you see me. Mark my words." With that, she disappeared into a pillar of emerald flames.

As soon as she's gone you rush to Vox's side, putting your hands on his shoulders and shaking him softly. "Vox? Vox, please snap out of it." You beg, tears starting to well up in your eyes. Your voice broke as he didn't seem to register your words. You broke down, hugging him tightly. Velvette and Valentino stood there silently as you sobbed into his shoulder, your relationship, him boiled down to nothing from the shapeshifter's doing.

In a last-ditch attempt, you kiss him, hoping it would spark something between the wires for him to snap out of it. Your hands grip his shoulders as you pull away, looking at the black screen. It flashed and he slumped into your arms with a groan.

"Vox? Vox?" You gently shake him, trying to him to look at you.

He turns his head up and looks at you in confusion, "[Name]?"

You hug him tighter, tears falling down your cheeks. Vox is super confused as to why you're crying and the fact he was in an empty wedding venue with you.

"What the- what are we doing here? Why the hell are you so dirty?" Vox pulled away and wiped your tears with his thumb. "We can talk about it later, let's just get home." You say softly, leaning your head into his touch.

≣≣≣≣≣✿≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣

Over the next few weeks, you and Vox planned a real wedding, with the real you. You and Vox picked the right flavors and bridal outfits, happy that it was actually you two. Velvette had never seen Vox this happy and she's his business partner and one of the closest people to him this side of hell.

You finally felt at ease when you walked down the aisle with Vox, saying your vows and slipping the matching rings on. Not even a spear made from shiny angelic steel could break this.

≣≣≣≣≣✿≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣≣

IT'S FINALLY FINISHED ᕙ(⍢)ᕗ Hope yall enjoy <3

Requests open!!

Tag list: @mrssabinecallas

#Spotify #vox x gn reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel x reader #songfic #mlp #this day aria

[bellewintersroe]

Charles Leclerc x SchumacherDaughter! Reader

Lila is the youngest of the 3 Schumacher siblings, at 22 shes catching the attention of the public eye. With the new found popularity through Drive to Survive, social media has dubbed her the next ‘it’ girl despite her constant desire for privacy. When her love interest becomes more or less the most sought after man in F1, how will she cope with being the internets fascination? Both Charles and Lila have dealt with immense amounts of loss and trauma, so their mutual understanding for one another fuels their so called ‘friendship’. Part 1 - Just a Disclaimer- this will include no chapters where Lila will be interacting with Michael Schumacher, I don’t know enough about his condition nor do I feel respectful or comfortable writing about that! Everything else is purely fictional and I hope you all do enjoy this fanfic I’m planning on putting together 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

The familiar scent of petrol and rubber filled my nostrils as I followed behind my brother, Mick through the Formula 1 grid. The smell sent a wave of nostalgia through me as I deeply inhaled, reliving some of my best childhood years with just that one smell. The sight of the red Ferrari uniforms gave me the sensation I’d time travelled back to when I was still toddling around, my earliest memories of F1 being of the team.

I almost felt like I was betraying Mercedes by being in Ferrari garages, but I’d purposefully asked my brother to take me around the Monegasque track where we used to spend so much time playing in the garages, and on the sidelines as children. “Oh, Mick, do you remember when we used to draw all over that floor with chalk.” I pointed out to the floor below as my elder brother laughed, strutting past the exact same patch of floor we used to graffiti. “We’d always get in so much trouble!” He responded as I smiled, following after him, too caught up with all the different sights and sounds to realise he’d ventured off a little further and faster for my legs to catch up. “Mick!” I exclaimed, as I did, my body crashed into somebody else’s as I gasped out loud. “Oh! Only me, love!” I was relieved to see it was George Russell, hands on both my shoulders as he guided me to the side, steadying me from my almost fall. “Oh, sorry.” I laughed as he patted me on the upper back. “Don’t be running across here when there’s actual cars moving.” “I’ll try my best.” I breathlessly spoke, face heating intensely, before catching up with Mick who was already chatting away to somebody I couldn’t quite see, hidden behind my taller sibling. “Mick, I almost fell over, I’m embarrassed.” As my brother stepped to the side he revealed a dark haired, Ferrari man. Charles Leclerc. I had to do a double take, he was incredibly beautiful.

“This is Lila.” Mick gestured, as though he’d just been talking about me. I was momentarily lost for both breath and words. My eyes widened, eyeing up both Charles and my brother nervously. “Hello, Lila.” He spoke first as I offered him an uncontrollable smile, seeing him move forwards to welcome me in a hug. “Hi!” I borderline squeaked, inhaling his expensive smelling cologne. He’d kissed one of my cheeks in a greeting as I went to pull back from pure nerves but he went in for the other cheek, of course, we were European.

“Sorry..” I giggled, my hands on his shoulders as he laughed back to me, shaking his head in amusement as I felt momentarily lost in his gaze. Wow. He truly lived up to his reputation. He was breathtakingly beautiful, so cute. “It’s nice to meet you, Charles.” I was quick to speak, both our eyes snapping away at the same time as I fiddled with my bracelets nervously. I never was good at meeting people, no matter how many of them I’d meet on a common occurrence. Being around the public eye wasn’t necessarily my thing, it scared me too much, the attention of it all- I tended to shy away.

“Nice to meet you too, are you English?” His brows furrowed, hands tightening around his water bottle, his question meaning I could hold my gaze on him once more. “English? No, I went to boarding school there for a while, that’s with the accent, but I am German.” Mick let out a roar of laughter at Charles comment. “English? With a Germany brother?!” He slapped Charles’ arm as I couldn’t help but giggle to myself. Poor Charles, he seemed a little nervous.

“I know… stupid question.” He sheepishly spoke as my brother began speaking again, “I was just showing her around the grid and garages- we spent a lot of time here as kids.” Whilst he did, I dared to glance up at Charles again, I was stunned to see him do the same as we both looked away with a smirk. Oh wow…

“Oh yeah, of course, I bet it is strange being back here?” Charles directed the conversation back to me as I felt my cheeks warm further under his attention.

“It is… oddly it’s not changed that much?” I frowned towards Mick who nodded along. “It’s nice though, I have such a soft spot for Ferrari. We used to play in this garage so much.” I gestured, shrugging my shoulders awkwardly.

“Uhhh, a soft spot?” Charles looked back to me, a little confused as he practically giggled. “You know, like a favourite?” Mick spoke. “Ohhh, yes! Good!” Charles grinned as I too, giggled to myself, digging my white converse into the floor below.

“I hope not, what happened to Mercedes?!” Mick then asked as I playfully rolled my eyes. “Mercedes will always be my number 1, sorry Charles.” I teased. “Nooo.” He played along as I chewed down on my bottom lip, pursing my lips, anything to stop grinning like an utter fool. I couldn’t help it, Charles Leclerc was making me fluster like I was a teenager again!

“Good luck today, anyway, and to Carlos, it’ll be nice racing at home, no?” As Mick struck up a conversation with Charles my attention wandered to around the room, everything bustling, preparing for the practice and qualifying races that would be taking place later today. I hope we hadn’t come at a bad time, there was still so many people to see, yet everybody seemed so busy.

“Ah, thank you, hopefully better than last year.” Ah, of course, Ferrari’s infamous strategy failures. They’d been making a lot this season, I couldn’t imagine how frustrating that was for both Charles and Sainz. “I’m sure it will be.” Mick slapped his shoulder again. “We better head to find Jean.” My brother turned to me as I nodded.

“Good luck.” I turned back to Charles whose lips tugged up into a wider smile. “Thank you, it was nice to meet you.” He nodded, accent thick as I held eye contact, purposefully. As nerve wracking as I found it, I couldn’t look away, this time as he looked back I felt my stomach involuntary fill with butterflies. For the rest of the day it kept knotting whenever I thought about Charles. I’d found myself purposefully looking out for him, on the grid, when he was racing, in the garages- I was intrigued by the Ferrari racer, as was the rest of the world…

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #mick schumacher

[starz222]

operation: true love | scaramouche x gn!reader

synopsis. scaramouche is one of the highest ranking students in teyvat high! how is it like having him as a seatmate?  notes. scaramouche as eunhyeok. based off ep 23 of operation: true love on webtoon !  i haven't read operation: true love since aug 2022, i only read until ep 10 bc the rest needed fast pass. anyway, i know this scene bc of a tiktok edit, the premise is similar but slightly different! i read webtoon a lot, so dialogue is also referenced from seasons of blossom! not proofread !!

it's math class, and you weren't paying attention. you begin to doze off as the chalk clashes with the board. in an attempt to stay awake, you rip a piece of scratch paper and draw a hashtag with a circle in the center. you write a little note underneath – "let's play." 

you pass it to your seatmate, scaramouche, one of the highest ranking students in the school. of course, he had plenty of rivals– albedo, alhaitham, heizou, ayato… they were countless, but being his seatmate, you watch his competitiveness, his need to win. 

he takes your note and entertains your request. you thought he'd crumple it up, but you realized that he already knew what the teacher was discussing and didn't care. 

you play a few games– 0-10. 

you mutter under your breath, "damn it." scaramouche chuckles and returns the scratch paper to you, "y/n. let's not play anymore. you're too bad at this game, it's not fun." 

your mouth is agape, offended by his words. you knew he always spoke the truth, and you hated how blunt he was but he was always right. 

"alright class, i'll be handing out these papers. answer them in 15 minutes or less." your math teacher raises their voice, not shouting, but only to wake up those who have dozed off. 

shit. 

your classmates complain about the given time, it's too short, they tell your teacher. "it would be easy if you paid any attention." 

shit (the sequel)

you recieve your paper, and in the past minutes all you've written down is your name. you take a glance at scaramouche, well his paper. you watch as he flicks his pen and makes clean, fast strokes. he solves the problems with ease, nearly done with the paper. the tip of his pen is thin and his answer sheet is neat and is organized, the rest of the solving is done mentally. 

pretty handwriting. 

you look at his hands,

pretty hands.

wait, what?

snap out of it! he’s your seatmate, and exams are up, so i really have to do well– no, scratch that, i have a surprise quiz right now! i know it’s wrong but… maybe i could just take a peek at his answers? 

you lean closer to him to look at his paper, since his writing is incredibly thin and long, you can’t see it well, so you squint. it doesn’t help when his left hand covers the other half of his paper, hey– move, i can’t see it! you sigh. eventually, he retreats his left arm and his shoulders tense because of your stare. you were lost in your thoughts, happy now that his arm wasn’t blocking the way, until his left hand grabbed the edge of your chair and pulled you closer. 

he turns to you, “can you see it better?” he furrows his brows and sighs. he stares at you, directly into your eyes. “yea- yeah.” you mutter. “good, now write quickly, would you? time’s almost up, and your paper is as blank as your mind.” he goes back to solving his paper.

you couldn’t even get mad at his comment, after all, he’s letting you copy his work. and, you were focused on his strength, how he was able to pull you by the chair with only one hand.

his hands are big, maybe that’s why. haha.. 

you watch as he passes you a piece of torn paper with a note– “exams are coming up, if you need help, just say so.”

“thanks, you’re pretty.” 

he stops writing.

“i mean pretty nice–you’re pretty nice.”  his ears turn bright red, you’re pretty… nice too, he thinks.

#genshin fics #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scara x y/n #scara x reader #scara x you #genshin wanderer #wanderer #wanderer fluff #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #the balladeer #wanderer genshin #kabukimono #genshin scara #operation: true love

[kscheibles]

fall rendezvous (college bf! au)

content warnings: f! reader, fluff, smut, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex f! receiving

word count: 2.2k

The crisp morning air bites at your nose as you walk across campus after your 8 a.m. discussion class. You’re not used to New England weather; the chilly air causes your nose to run even when you’re bundled up in sweatshirts and coats as you are now. Matty makes fun of you every time, but his actions betray his true feelings. He always takes the opportunity to hold your hands in his and breathe hot air onto them. He likes being your solace. Your comfort.

As a matter of fact, that’s what you need him for now. Chase, the obnoxious legacy student in your Art History section, was insistent on devaluing the thematic interests of indigenous artists. Unfortunately, you’d had to take matters into your own hands when the TA looked as if it was too early for her to put a stop to his bullshit for the third time this semester. You’d ripped him a new one, but as a result, you were now simultaneously riled up, tired, and in need of a comforting hug from your boyfriend. You lug your book bag across the quad, texting Matty when you’re finally near his dorm.

You wait a few moments at the door, still reeling. As soon as the door swings open, revealing Matty’s crooked, slept-on curls and perfect, knowing smile, you can feel the anxiety in your body ease up. You run into him, almost knocking him off his feet as his arms come around to envelop you. The smell of his cologne and detergent and sleep fill your nose and seep into your brain, relaxing you like a drug. It’s instant with him. He gets into your bloodstream. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” he mumbles into your ear. You smile into his navy hoodie, looking up into his sleepy eyes.

“Mornin’,” you coo. Matty grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs, unlocking his door and letting you in. You’re greeted by the smell of fresh coffee. Matty goes over to the coffee pot and pours you a mug as you toss your bookbag on the floor and take your shoes and socks off. You survey the place, taking inventory of the two beds, one belonging to his roommate, Ross, who has a 9 a.m. lab. He won’t be back for hours, bless him. Matty’s bed is at a different height than usual. He’s lowered it a bit, for god knows what reason. You chalk it up to a manic ADHD episode where he decided he had to rearrange his room in order to do his homework properly – you know this kind of thing isn’t uncommon for him. You love the ways in which his brain is different from yours. He sees and gets excited by things you never could and you admire him endlessly for it.

“What’s with the bed?” you ask as Matty passes you a mug of steaming coffee. You take another whiff – hazelnut, he must have gotten a new blend to mark the beginning of fall – before sipping on it, feeling it ground you back to reality. Matty quirks his eyebrows playfully, smirking as he does. 

“Well I wanted to try something actually,” he starts, cozying up to your side and resting his chin on the top of your head. “You know we were having all that trouble last week when I was trying to fuck you standing up?” 

Your head snaps around and you meet his eyes, smiling. What a boy, you think. 

“Anyways, I couldn’t stop thinking about it the other night while I was waiting for Ross to come back from the library so we could play Mortal Kombat so I crushed a Red Bull and adjusted the bed to be just a bit lower than my hips.”

You put your coffee down on his messy bookshelves filled with mythology volumes, dogeared paperback copies of Kafka, and plastic video game cases. You bring your arms up around his neck and kiss him softly on the mouth. 

“I suppose you wanna try it out then?” you ask, teasingly. Matty moans into your mouth and walks you back towards the bed until your thighs hit the mattress. You fall down onto your back and Matty’s instantly undoing the button of your jeans, pulling your pants and underwear off in one fell swoop. His head falls between your legs instantly, kissing your inner thighs, lifting your legs over his shoulders, and then licking you from your hole to your clit. 

You whimper at the contact. He’s so warm and wet and good. You squirm under his tongue, instinctively looking for friction. You swear you can feel his lips curl into a smile around your clit as you begin to buck senselessly, arrhythmically into his mouth. He captures your clit in his mouth, sucking at it devotedly as his left hand comes around to pin you down to the bed by your hips.

“God, you make me feel so good,” you moan as his fingers begin to swipe listlessly at your entrance. His head leaves your body long enough for you to read the need in his eyes. His pupils are completely blown out, lips glistening with your pleasure. “I love you,” you breathe. It’s the only thing you can think when you see the picture between your thighs: your sweet boy on his knees, cozy in his hoodie, and looking up at you for reassurance that he’s eating you right, even though he’s done it a hundred times before. He bends down, kissing your lower tummy tenderly.

“I love you, too,” he smiles up at you, “Can I fuck you now, sweet girl?”

You nod, intoxicated with pleasure and grinning. Faintly, you hear his clothes shuffling as he rids himself of his sweatpants and underwear, pumping himself a couple of times to be sure he’s ready for you. You hear the condom wrapper crinkling. Then you feel him, sinking inside you slowly. You feel dizzy despite having your eyes closed. Matty folds your knees into you and begins to push in and out of you slowly, rocking you into ecstasy. With your feet to the sky, you start to feel the chilly autumn air seep into you through your extremities and into your core, distracting and uncomfortable.

“Matty, I’m cold,” you whine, grabbing at your feet to warm them up. Leave it to your university to skimp on heating during the freezing Connecticut fall. 

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, pulling out of you briefly, “Can you stand up a minute, darling?” You do, hissing as your feet hit the cold, ground, and watching him dumbly as he unmakes his bed, fluffing his comforter up and holding in his arms. He wraps it delicately around your shoulders, holding you to him in a hug that feels like complete and utter safety. “You wanna lay back down?” he whispers into your hair. You nod and Matty helps you back onto the bed. You slowly lean back until your spine hits the mattress and plant your feet back on the flat surface. He notices before even you do, “Your feet still look cold, are you okay?”

You look down at them, realizing only now that they’ve gone completely numb. You meet Matty’s eyes bashfully. “Will I still be hot enough to fuck if you lend me a pair of fuzzy socks?”

Matty blushes and nods, kissing you sweetly on the forehead. “Always,” he assures you before padding over to his chest of drawers and finding a pair of wool socks to don you with. He puts them on you himself, rubbing your toes through the thick material to bring the weight back into your body. 

“I feel like Cinderella,” you quip. 

“You are,” Matty smiles, your feet still in his hands, “My perfect princess.”

“Okay don’t get too into my feet now,” you giggle and Matty drops them immediately.

“You’re right,” he turns fake serious all of a sudden, “Don’t even know how I was paying attention to them when you’re all spread out for me right here.”

You smile sweetly as he buries himself in you again, savoring that perfect, holy meeting that makes you see stars every time.

Your mouth falls open and your brows furrow inadvertently as you feel Matty fill you up. He touches every part of you, holding on to your tits and legs and anything else he can get his hands on as he begins to fuck you in earnest. He’s losing himself, grasping at any straw of reality that could keep him grounded. Your hand comes around to encircle the wrist of his hand that's bruising your right breast. You whine with each snap of his hips into yours but still manage to get his attention and talk him through it. 

“I’m right here, Matty,” you say, “I’m yours. Making me feel so good, baby.” His eyes meet yours, black with desire. Matty’s confided in you that he has a tendency to dissociate a little during sex. It helps when you touch different parts of him, stimulate him in new ways so that he stays present, and when you speak to him so he can remember that he’s doing it for you, too. He appreciates how seriously you take it and loves you even more in the moments he can tell you’re trying to care for him. 

Matty’s hand moves from your breast down to where his body meets yours, trapping your clit between his fingers and rubbing you in tandem with his thrusts. It causes another wanton cry to escape your lips.

“Please stay just like that,” you beg, “Please, please, I’m so close baby.” He nods, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead as he drags your body impossibly closer to his own. 

“Being so fucking good for me baby,” he manages, “Such a good girl. You’re for me.”

“All for you, baby,” you repeat, “I’m so fucking lucky you make me feel so good.”

“Gonna make you cum, baby. Can I?” he asks, leaning over you even further, chasing both of your orgasms. Your head falls back into the bed as he does. Like a marionette with her strings cut, your head bobs uselessly against the navy sheets as Matty rubs you and fucks you faster.

“I’m almost there,” you warn, “Stay just like that. Please, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. Your brain is too far gone to be rational. You tense up as you feel your orgasm creeping up on you. 

“Relax for me,” you hear Matty’s voice in your ear, “It’s gonna feel a lot better if you relax, baby.”

You do. Instantly, you feel the band of pressure in your stomach snap as your orgasm washes over you from head to toe. You can feel yourself pulsing around Matty’s dick, over and over, beginning to feel overstimulated as he continues his assault on your used cunt. You swat tiredly at his hand on your clit. He moves it to your hip, holding on to you for dear life.

“Just another second baby,” he breathes, “You can be a good girl and take it a little while longer, yeah?” You nod uncontrollably, blissed out and needy. You need him to cum, need him to feel as good as you do. 

“Please, Matty, need you to cum inside me.” Matty slows to a stop above you, panting.

Matty falls onto your chest, bent over at the hips, panting into the duvet that cocoons you. Your hand meets his curls immediately, holding tight to what you couldn’t reach moments ago. You push his hair back from where it’s fallen onto his forehead, revealing his flushed face. Your thumbs ghost over his perfect cheekbones. You stay there, present for him, as he comes down, smiling at him when he finally meets your eyes. 

“Hi,” you muse.

“Hi,” he pants, letting his head touch the comforter again and pulling out of you. Your hands fly to his shoulders, brows furrowing as you try to still him. “Shhhh, baby, just a second,” he coos, standing up and tying the condom off before chucking it god knows where. He unwraps you and pulls the covers over the both of you as he nestles back into the comically small bed. He kisses the crown of your head when you find your way into the crook of his shoulder. 

“Thank you, I love you,” you say into his chest. 

“You too, baby,” he whispers, “Always look out for me you’re so good to me baby.” 

You lean up to kiss him, warm and sweet and soft. 

“This bed is really small,” you laugh into his mouth.

“That’s why I had to fold you up to fit,” he quips in return. 

“Will you take me to get a coffee, then? I think the one you made has gone cold.”

“Sure, baby,” he says, rubbing your bicep when you spring off the bed to get dressed. Matty gets up too, scrounging for his long discarded clothes. 

He chucks his blue Nike hoodie at you. “I know you were planning to steal that anyway.” You smile, shucking it on over your sweater. As you bend over to put your shoes on, Matty comes up behind you steadying you as you wobble with only one shoe on. You use his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans in, kissing you slowly and unhurriedly like he could do it all day.

“You ready to brave the cold?” he teases. 

“If I’m with you,” you pout. He giggles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and looping his arm around your neck.

“Come on then, baby,” he beams, “I’ll keep you warm.”

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfiction #matty Healy #matty healy smut

[theodorecanaryhood]

The coffee shop guy & the Red Hood: part X

Jason Todd x Male! Reader

Arkhamverse Jason Todd

Warning: some language and sexual references.

Marriage was far from Jason’s mind when he first reached adulthood, marriage was never something Jason was aware of the would get.

Alas, here he is sitting with a silver band around his left ring finger. You smiling slightly opposite him as you saw the waiter coming with your food.

‘Babe, foods here’ you announced as Jason snapped out of his day dream.

Jason was day dreaming a lot lately, mostly about you. Jason never admitted that you were constantly on his mind, but he knew that you are aware.

Truth be told, Jason is on your mind all the time too.

‘Gosh, you remember my ex boyfriend Zach?’ You asked, Jason feeling venom in his eyes.

The shithead that was too worried about his pretty face getting ruined when you were held at gunpoint, Red Hood saved your life and changed it that night.

‘Y/n, his name is like nails on a chalk board’ Jason remarked, sarcastically.

You chuckled as Jason grabbed his fork, tucking into his dinner.

‘Well, he has a new boyfriend apparently. Both as snobby as each other’ you revealed, Jason shot an eyebrow up.

‘Surprised he could get his dick hard if I’m honest’ Jason whipped back, his words were quite harsh at times.

You never said anything as you knew it wasn’t directed at you, Jason spoke poorly of people he didn’t like. Jason is stubborn like that, if he doesn’t like you, no changing his mind.

There was a lot about Jason you grew to love over time, Jason was never vicious toward or about you. He just didn’t sugarcoat stuff and always spoke his mind.

The grocery trip was busy, you put it down to school holidays. Jason was his usual on this trip, disappearing down aisles from getting distracted.

‘Sir, please stop putting stuff in my cart’ Jason remarked to you, jokingly making out you didn’t know each other.

‘Is that a joke? This is my cart’ you replied as the older woman in the aisle watched.

‘You’re harassing me’ Jason joked again, you laughed as you nudged your glasses up your face.

Jason leant over and kissed you as the woman looked confused, you chuckled.

‘We’re married, Jason just likes to play pretend’ you commented.

It was usual Friday tasks as the night turned late, you slept deeply next to Jason as he snored away.

It was the dim early morning light when Jason woke up, it was a slight chill as Jason stirred awake. No reasoning behind it, but he smiled sleepily as he saw you.

Your bare back toward Jason as he moved closer to you, pecking the back of your neck as he ran his hand down your back.

The warmth of your skin made Jason tingle as he wrapped his arm around your waist, burying his face into your hair.

‘What time is it?’ You asked groggy as you barely opened your eyes.

‘Early, go back to sleep babe’ Jason whispered back, not sure if you were actually awake or not.

Dreams filled your sleeping head as you lay next to Jason, your breathing stayed relaxed, Jason fell back into a sweet sleep.

The shower filled your skin as you rubbed your face, your damp hair dripped water down your face and neck, Jason stood at the sink with his razor in his hand.

‘You ever thought of growing a beard?’ You asked Jason through the shower curtain.

Jason laughed a little, shedding his skin of stubble, thinking for a second about his answer.

‘Nope, maybe when I’ve got some grey hair to show off’ Jason replied.

You swung the shower curtain open as your towel tied around your waist. Your bare body on show as Jason almost dropped at the sight of you.

‘You look great without clothes you know’ Jason stared at you through the mirror.

‘So do you’ you winked as you kissed Jason’s back.

The day was filled with usual chaos of a Saturday, Jason had a few nights off to spend with his husband, so patrol was overdue.

Red Hood bombed down the streets of Gotham as he fought the criminals roaming the streets.

Usual ending for the night as Jason greeted the GCPD officers, standing at the cars with the lights flashing.

‘Nice upgrade’ an officer complimented as Red Hood thanked him.

Red Hood had a new helmet and an upgrade to his gear, a suggestion from you as you’d had your few brushes with criminals. You wanted to ensure that Jason was safe.

The days seemed a blur but as long as Jason was with you, he didn’t care much.

Jason held your hand with pride as the two of you walked through the City, your skin like Velcro to Jason’s, he couldn’t help but stick to it.

‘Shall we try here next date night?’ You asked as you pointed to the new Japanese restaurant that had opened.

‘Sure thing baby’ Jason agreed as he swung his arm a little, holding your hand in his.

The two of you ventured to the movie theatre, taking the escalator up to your floor, Jason barcoding you with his arms and body. Never failing to make you feel safe.

Seated next to each other for your movie screening, Jason wanted to see it in 3D but figured it wouldn’t be nice to make you watch something in a glasses over glasses situation.

‘Fuck, that was violent’ Jason commented once the credits rolled.

‘That main guy was hot though’ you replied, walking down the steps with Jason tailing behind you.

‘Nah, he isn’t my type, that Morgan guy was hot though’ Jason said as you gave him a weird look.

‘Really?’ You questioned as Jason smiled and nodded.

‘Not as hot as you y/n, you’re fucking gorgeous’ Jason sleazed as he slapped your butt.

‘All right stud’ you side smiled as Jason pulled you in for a kiss.

It was a deep, passionate kiss as Jason’s hands roamed. Yours did too as Jason slipped his tongue in your mouth.

‘Let’s get home first’ you panted as Jason sunk his teeth into your neck.

‘Shit, I’m gonna bust right here darling’ Jason whispered into your ear.

It was a nice journey home, Jason carried you in his back most of the way home. Playing the patient game, you knew Jason would destroy you the second the two of you got inside.

You were correct in thinking that, Jason didn’t give you a chance. He liked the door and threw you on the bed.

Candles lit the room dimly as the light music played in the background, a playlist Jason had for your bedroom activities.

Your hole was filled generously as Jason never stopped for a second to make the two of you feel good. Your hole filled with either Jason’s tongue, finger or manhood.

It was a night of love and raw passion, Jason make you feel things a man had never made you feel before.

Jason let you spill your seed that night plenty of times too, as well as fill you with his.

Jason’s heartbeat was soothing as you lay your head on his chest, Jason’s muscles held you in place. Your eyes drifting to a close as Jason continued listening to the light music in the background.

It was calming as Jason felt so happy to have you in his arms. All those times he stared at you in the coffee shop and now, you’re his. And he’s yours.

The room went dark as Jason blew the candles out, silence soon followed as he turned the music off. Sliding back into bed as he held you all night, a sleep well needed as Jason hummed slightly.

Satisfied from being emptied so many times as Jason kissed the top of your head, and you tucked your head a little more into Jason’s chest.

#red hood #gotham #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #Blake Steven

[atinylittlepain]

Hayloft - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x dancer!reader

series masterlist

Joel thought they were joking, really. But when his patrol partners lead him through the back of the Tipsy Bison and slip down a dim flight of stairs, he realizes rather quickly that The Hayloft is no joke.

warnings | 18+ smut (duh), angst, joel being a ding dong

a/n | thanks must be given to @pedgeitopascal for letting me take on this idea <3

songs of this chapter:

I can't quit you babe - Led Zeppelin

Queen of boredness - Kinny

Do I move you? - Nina Simone

..............................

Joel pulls on a faint memory at the periphery of his mind. A summer day in Austin, he and Tommy sitting on the curb outside their childhood home with their knees up to their ears, sweating in the stifling warmth of the afternoon. Barely-dropped voices murmuring back and forth as Joel flipped through the magazine held between them. He had been trying to act cool, like his first year of middle school had manned him up compared to his younger brother. But he remembers that thick heat creeping up his throat, and a flush that couldn’t just be chalked up to the Texas sun as their eyes roamed over bare bodies, spread legs, and faces contorted in what they supposed was pleasure. They had found the old Playboy tucked under their parents’ mattress, bored out of their melting minds and stewing in the AC. It was the first time he could remember feeling like that, somewhere between curious and uncomfortable, excited and ashamed. 

He thinks about it now as he experiences that same feeling, forty years and change later, sitting in the basement of the Tipsy Bison.

“Where the fuck did they get those shoes?”

“There’s a mall, 15 miles south.” “They didn’t sell shoes like that at malls, man.” Joel is inclined to agree with the man making the observation on that point, wearily eyeing the dizzying struts of heels on the stage in front of him. He only lets his eyes wander upward briefly, spanning bare legs, catching a glance of scrappy lace, before turning his face back down to the swirling whiskey in his glass.

Honestly, when one of the men on his patrol team mentioned this place, Joel thought it was a joke, muttering a gruff “yeah, sure” when they invited him along for a night at The Hayloft. But he realized he was sorely mistaken when the group of men guided him into the Tipsy Bison, promptly walking through the door to the back where they kept all their kegs and slipping down a flight of dimly lit steps.

He recognized a few people immediately in the glowing red light, other men he had been on patrol with, playing pool and smoking in the back of the room. But most of them were seated, eyes glued to the raised platform in the center of what was clearly a bar, beneath a bar. It took a second for his brain to catch up to a sight so completely unexpected. 

Swaying hips, curving spines, flicking hair, wandering hands, and dipping legs. Women, looking like something straight out of a porn film. 

Now listen, Joel Miller was raised by a mother who taught him to be a gentleman, and as such, he had never once been in an establishment like this place, not before, and certainly not after the world fell apart. But, he is a man, afterall, and he can’t exactly help the way his eyes keep darting to one particular figure shimmying around on the stage. So, as he sits amongst his patrol partners, taking zinging sips of liquor, he feels that familiar heat creeping up his throat, making him stiffen up in more ways than one.

The music changes all of a sudden, a man’s rasped shout and a dragging guitar riff laid over a slumped drumbeat. He recognizes it, though he can’t quite place it in the haze. There’s four women up on the stage, and while three of them step down, slinking amongst the seated men, the other one, the one Joel has been watching, crooks her arm around the pole he had thought was only for decoration. 

He no longer tries to hide his stare, watching the arc of her hips as she dips and snaps her hair out of her face, the thin fabric of what could only be described as panties pulling taut across the curve of her ass. She moves like liquid, curling around the pole and lifting up into the air, neck stretched long as she arches back in a perfect spin. 

“She’s good, right?” Joel glances at Harris, his patrol partner who just spoke, grunting something noncommittal at the man’s broad grin, not wanting to miss a second of her performance. And a performance it most certainly is. She’s perfect, glowing in the faint red lights of the bar, every outstretched leg, every twist and bend, radiant and divine. Suspended in air, one arm elongated, before tracing a line of desire with her palm dragging down her bare torso, hips swerving obscenely up into the flicker of her fingertips. And then, with the next staggering string of guitar chords, she drops, catching herself at just the last moment. A delicate heel is lowered, followed by the other as the room resounds in applause, Joel only now realizing that he needs to pick his jaw up off the table. 

The track changes, a stilted rhythm that she starts to bob her head side to side to as she steps down off the stage. Even her walk is like a dance, hips swaying, hands grazing the sides of her bare thighs as she moves, and Joel realizes too late that she’s coming directly toward their table.

“Harris, who’s your friend?” 

“Cherry, this is Joel Miller. He’s new in town. Joel, this is Cherry.” She tilts her head at him, a simpering smile crinkling her eyes as she leans forward, breasts all but spilling out of the cups of her bra. Joel stutters into motion when it clicks in his brain that she’s holding out her hand for him to shake, his palm sliding against hers in a firm squeeze.

“Nice to meet you, Joel Miller. What’d you think of the show?” He has to clear his throat a few times before he speaks, an icy heat prickling the back of his neck all the while.

“I, um– you’re something else.” Jesus fucking christ, that’s the best you could do? She, however, seems to like his answer, smile broadening into a grin.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me–” Her eyes glance down and back up to Joel, twice, and he only figures out that it’s because he’s still holding her hand when she gives his palm another squeeze. He’s quick to let go of her hand, though he wishes he hadn’t. But his dismay dissolves with the sight of her walking away, and the way her ass shakes with each sublime step. He cranes his neck, only catching a glimpse of her slipping through a door in the back of the bar. 

“Easy, Miller. You can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Where’s that door go?” Harris laughs, shaking his head.

“Look, man, don’t worry about that. Everyone falls in love with Cherry when they first see her. But it’ll pass. She’s off-limits.”

“Why?” Harris shrugs.

“She just is. They all are. Keeps things civil, y’know?” Joel has no interest in being civil, not right now. He hasn’t wanted something this bad in a long time, and even though Harris tries to call him back, he doesn’t so much as tilt his head in acknowledgement as he wades through the simmering haze of the bar toward the door he saw her go through. 

He only briefly wonders at just how big this basement is when he shoulders through the door and into a dimly lit hallway.

“Nat, is that you? Did your set finish already?” Her voice is coming from behind a cracked door further down the hallway, which Joel follows with little thought to it. 

“What the fuck?” It’s a blurry string of events. He catches the quickest glimpse of her when he sidesteps through the door, seeing her standing in front of a mirror, her bra loose and unfastened, hanging on her shoulders. But it becomes apparent pretty fast that this was possibly the stupidest (and creepiest) way he could have tried to get her attention when she catches sight of him in the periphery of the mirror, whipping around and startling a few feet back before hurling something small at him that still hurts like hell when it makes contact with his forehead.

“Jesus– shit!” He instinctively curls over himself, one hand on his thigh and the other pressing into the spot just above his eyebrow that seems to be bleeding from what he now sees was a hairbrush.

“What the hell is your problem, man? You thought you could get an extra look? You think you’re special, huh? Is that it?” His head is reeling, and it’s all he can do to straighten back up, still applying pressure to his well-deserved wound. In the time it’s taken him to collect himself, she’s slipped a robe on, tied close and tight around her waist.

“N-no, no. That isn’t– I just– wanted to talk, um, to you.” He feels like he’s got cotton in his mouth, gumming up his words and drying out his throat until it all comes out garbled and wrong. She lets out a bitter laugh, brushing past him and opening the door wider, fixing him with a hard look.

“Yeah, nice try, buddy. But I’ve heard that one before, and lemme tell you, that’s not how this works. Now get out.” She doesn’t have to tell him twice, Joel shuffling through the door, though he stops for a moment to say something.

“I’m– I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know what I was thinking. But I swear, this ain’t how I am, normally. Fuck– I’m just– I’m sorry.” He doesn’t wait around for a response from her, hurrying back down the hall and out into the bar, not even looking for Harris as he makes a beeline for the stairs, taking them two at a time and getting the fuck out of the Hayloft and the Tipsy Bison.

The fresh night air is something of a relief, though Joel is still mortified, thick and heavy guilt settling in his bones as he stumbles home. He realizes now that he had been a fucking fool, thinking that she had, what? Been flirting with him? He scoffs to himself, knowing that it had just been a part of her act, her performance. And Joel bought it, hook, line, and sinker. 

When he gets home, he takes a shower, scrubbing harshly at his skin, trying to clean away the sickening shame settled just beneath the surface. He knew better, he was raised better, and he’s horrified with himself that even at his age, he wound up thinking with his dick rather than his mind. Looking in the mirror, he sees the sizable cut, just over his left eyebrow, what will serve as a reminder to him to not get distracted by pretty, shiny things. 

He doesn’t sleep well, tossing and turning in his sheets. The only real conclusion he reaches is that he’ll never set foot in the Tipsy Bison, or the Hayloft, again.

…

Joel is not having a good morning. Normally he’d feel at least a twinge of contentment in working at the stables, but today, the only thing he can focus on is his pounding headache and the embarrassing memory of last night. 

He had only barely escaped Ellie’s questioning earlier this morning when she came downstairs and into the kitchen, telling him that he “seemed pissier than usual” before asking him where he got “that dinky little cut.” 

Luckily, working the stables usually means he doesn’t have to talk to anyone except for the horses, the quiet tasks helping somewhat to ease his mind. His relief is short-lived, however, when he hears a newly familiar voice nearing the stables. Sure enough, when he peers out of the stables, he sees her, leading one of the new colts around the pen. While she looks a lot different than how she did last night, blue jeans and a ratty work coat hiding her figure, Joel would recognize that smile anywhere. Before he can return to hauling sacks of feed around, her eyes catch his, and she clearly does a double take, squinting at him in the morning sun. 

“Hey.” A single word, a jerk of her chin, and then she’s walking over to him, and Joel suddenly has no clue what to do with his hands, shoving them deep in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I wanted to talk to you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, head tilted as she stands before him. Joel has enough sense this morning not to come off like a total fool.

“Again, I’m real sorry about last night. I wasn’t thinking, at all. It won’t happen again, I promise.” She sighs, toeing her boot into the dirt before glancing back up at him.

“Thank you for your apology. It’s fine, really. You weren’t the first, and lord knows you won’t be the last. I guess it kinda comes with the territory.” The laugh she lets out is clipped, clearly trying to hide the sore tinge to her words.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever been called ma’am before.” It’s unexpected, the wry crook of her smile as she says it, and Joel has to huff out a laugh, rocking a bit on his heels. But his laugh fizzles out when she brushes her fingers over his forehead, leaning up and tracing his cut.

“That hairbrush did a little number on you, huh? Sorry about that.” Her touch is gone as quick as it had been there, but the warmth creeping across his face remains.

“S’alright. Reckon I deserved it anyways.” That earns him another smile and a light laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you did.” Her words come out airy, the quirk of her grin telling him that she means it as much as she’s joking about it, and it emboldens him just enough to say something else.

“Can I ask you something?” She purses her lips, squinting up at him.

“You can ask, and maybe I’ll answer.” 

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

“You’re new, right? It may be a small town, but everyone works. I’ve been here for years and there’s probably still folks I don’t know just because we’re on different work schedules.” 

“And is that– what you do at the bar– is that work?” She hums at his question, all smiles when she answers.

“Did that look like work to you?” His mind darts back to last night, her performance, and he has to swallow hard around the memory. She huffs out a laugh when he remains silent.

“No, that’s not work. Just a little fun, an escape, y’know? Forget about everything going on up above ground for a while.” He nods, certainly being able to understand the desire to forget the world, even for a few hours. They stand in silence, a hiccup of time, just looking at each other, which she breaks with a sigh.

“Well, I better get back to work. But, are we good?” 

“Think that’s for you to decide, ma’am.” The laugh that coaxes out of her is different, fuller, as she tosses her head back, eyes crinkling up when she does look at him again.

“Hmm, yeah, I’d say we’re good. See you around, Joel.” With that, she turns on her heel, heading back out to the horsepen. But Joel still has another question for her.

“Wait– that’s not your real name, is it? Cherry?” She grins over her shoulder at him, shrugging a little.

“Why don’t you come see another show sometime? Maybe I’ll answer your question then.” 

…

He recognizes the music immediately. Nina Simone, something his mother liked to spin on the old record player in the living room, snapping and popping with the drawl of the needle. But his mother is the last thing he’d like to think about right now. 

He went alone this time, ducking down the stairs and sitting on a stool at the bar, using a glass of whiskey in his hand as an anchor as his eyes scanned the murky room. He feels his heart sink when he doesn’t see her up on the stage, nor in the crowd, but his disappointment fades when someone taps him on the shoulder, making him turn around in his seat. 

“Hey, you came.” She’s in those same damn, mile-high shoes, that same little black set. But Joel has resolved himself this time to be a gentleman, and as such he keeps his eyes upward, as best he can. 

“I was looking for you– wasn’t sure if I came on the wrong night.” Her smile is tinged red by the lights of the bar, eyes glimmering in the haze.

“Well, you actually just missed my set.” He feels his shoulders slump at that, only a little embarrassed by his clear display of discontent and the way that she catches it with a laugh.

“But, if you’d like, I could show you what you missed.” He doesn’t think he heard her right, his head ducking a bit, eyes squinting at her easy grin. She brings a hand to his bicep, fingers trailing down until they’re tangling with his and she starts walking backwards. It’s all Joel can do to shuffle along to her gentle tug, his brain short-circuiting all over again. 

She pulls him through the backdoor, and then through the same door he had so witlessly stepped through the last time. He actually gets a good look at the room this time, what appears to be a makeshift dressing room, a few mirrors propped against one wall, clothes slung on a coat rack, and a ratty couch pushed into the corner. She drags him inside, Joel all but stumbling over his feet as she gives him a light shove down onto the couch, taking a few steps back and resting her hands on her hips. The music is only a faint throb through the walls now, quiet enough that he can hear his heartbeat kicking and quickening, blood rushing.

Her hips already have a little sway in them, the ghost of a smile as she keeps her eyes on him, and Joel muses to himself that whatever this is, it’s all going to be on her terms, always. 

“Since I don’t have the pole, I’ll have to improvise a little bit, that ok with you?” Worried that his voice would betray him, he just nods, the sound of her laugh relaxing his shoulders from where they had been pinned up by his ears. 

“Besides, I don't think those men out there really care about the moves, so long as my ass and tits are out. But I’m an artist, y’know? I care.” As if to emphasize her point, she steps one foot out, arcing her hips in a circle, and arching her back, her ass on perfect display as she grins over her shoulder at him. All Joel can think is that this must be a dream, that there’s no way this is actually happening. But seeing her dance up close, there’s no denying how real she is. He can see the sheen of sweat across her sternum, the little pull of her brows as she moves, the curved crease where her ass meets her thigh, and it all only makes him want her more. 

“Hmm, I have to admit, I prefer dancing with a prop. Do you mind?” Though he’s not entirely sure what he’s not minding, Joel shakes his head no. He reckons that he wouldn’t even mind if she asked to stab him in the thigh, not at this point. She’s got that smile again, like she knows a secret she’s never going to tell him, as she saunters toward him, one knee and then the other coming to rest against the outsides of his thighs. The last sane part of his mind tells him that he still needs to be a gentleman, so he keeps his hands balled in fists on the couch cushions. He can see the intricacy of the thin lace detailing over her bra, her chest is so close to his face as she rests her forearms over his shoulders. He clears his throat, trying to focus on her face instead of her hips dipping and hovering over him.

“Did you, uh– did you do this for work before?” 

“Mmhmm, made good money too. Was putting myself through college with it and everything.” She giggles at the raise of his eyebrows, tilting her head at him as she continues to sway in his lap. 

“What? Does that surprise you?” 

“Maybe a little, though to be honest, I’m starting to get used to you surprising me.” 

“You can touch me, y’know.” He freezes at that, any ease he had slipping away under the prickling heat of her gaze.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.” He can tell that she finds his response amusing, her smile slanting and eyes squinting at him.

“And why not?” 

“I’d rather not get another hairbrush thrown at me.” He tries not to, he really does, but he can’t help the way his eyes dart down to the swell of her breasts lightly bouncing with her laugh. It’s a quick little thing, the kiss she presses to the cut above his eyebrow, but it’s enough to melt his resolve down into a dripping puddle.

“I promise I won’t throw anything else at you. But why do I get the feeling that’s not the only reason you’re hesitating?” He lets out a sigh, and she stills on top of him.

“Oh god– did I completely read this wrong? I’m so–”

“N-no! That ain’t it. It’s just– I barely know you and I– you gotta know that I don’t usually do stuff like this.” “Stuff like what?” 

“Like whatever you’ve got planned in that pretty head of yours.” She huffs out a laugh at that.

“Why don’t I tell you my real name? Then you’ll know me a little better than barely.”  She leans in, lips grazing his ear, her name coming out on a whisper that Joel thinks will spin in his mind for the rest of his life. At the same time, her hands slip down his arms, uncurling his fists and guiding his palms to splay over her hips. Joel takes it from there, hands dragging down over the tops of her thighs before roaming up the span of her back.

“There, was that so hard?” Her smug look makes him grumble, hands dipping down to cup her ass and give an experimental squeeze that makes her gasp.

“Got another question for you, darlin.” She crooks a brow at him, waiting.

“Why me, huh? Could have any one of those guys out there. And I didn’t exactly make a good first impression.” Her smile screws up, eyes narrowing like she’s really considering what he said.

“Because you look like someone who’d like to forget for a while, same as me. And I like it when you call me ma’am.”

Things go downhill fast from there. It’s been a long time since Joel has kissed a woman, but he’s quick on the uptake, his lips molding with hers, tongues twisting up between little sighs and the clicks of spit. His hands firm up on her hips, pulling her down to grind against his aching hardness, reveling in the whimper that breaks in her throat when he does. 

He just needed a little certainty from her, and now that he has it, he moves with confidence beneath her, dragging his lips down her chest, mouthing at the fabric of her bra, pulling away only briefly when she shrugs the garment off before dipping back down to take one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. She says his name like a plea, breathless and pitchy and he’d like to replay the sound on an infinite loop in his mind. 

“No teasing– not this time. One of the girls could– fuck– could come in any minute.” His heart flips in his chest when she says this time, the promise of this happening again making him lightheaded as she fumbles with his belt buckle. He rests his forehead on her sternum, batting her hands away to finish the job of unbuttoning his jeans and shucking them down with his boxers, just enough for his cock to bounce out, pre-cum smearing over the bottom of his shirt. She works with deft hands, reaching between them to thumb over his leaking slit, rubbing the slickness down his shaft  as he hisses at her delicate touch while at the same time, she’s pulling her panties to the side and moving to hover over his throbbing tip.

His eyes roll back when she slides down on him in one languid move, his fingers gripping harshly into the plush of her ass. It’s almost too much, the fluttering heat of her wrapping him up as she sighs on top of him, lips dragging across his in a broken kiss. And then she starts to move, and Joel thinks this might just be how he dies. It starts with a few tentative swirls, just like the ones he saw her do up on that stage the first time, but that quickly morphs into sweet little bounces that he guides with his hands cupping her ass.

Neither of them speak, only letting out little gasps of pleasure, her uh uh uhs driving him crazy with each bounce. He firms his feet up on the ground, starting to meet her hips with his own thrusts, her back arching at the sensation and a silent cry stretching across her lips. More than anything, he wants to feel her come and he sets his mind on it singularly, bringing one of his hands around to draw sloppy circles over her clit, groaning at the way she spasms around him in response. He brings his other hand up to hold her by the back of the neck, pulling her closer until he can smear his lips across her ear in a hot whisper, low murmurings of how bad he wants it, how good she feels, how he’s dying to see her come for him.

And she does, with a harsh yelp of his name, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades through the fabric of his t-shirt. She slumps in his grip, and it takes all of Joel’s willpower to pull her off of him, finishing himself off with a few frantic strokes of his hand before his spend is smudging across her tensing belly. 

They hold onto each other hard, trying to find stillness after their heady spin of pleasure. Beneath their breathless pants, the dull thrum of music still seeps into the walls from the bar, a reminder of what actually just happened, and how fucked he truly is now that he’s gotten a taste of her. 

........................

taglist (lmk if you want added or dropped): @littlelou22 @mydailyhyperfixations @harriedandharassed @amanitacowboy @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beskarandblasters @ariiiloves @swiftispunk @cutesyscreenname @brittmb115 @funnygirlthatgab

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller au #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller series #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

[illubean]

👉👈 hello there! :>

Would some Headcanons about Death The Kid with a reader who's kuudere with everyone but tsundere towards him be okay?

DtK with a Kuu/Tsundere

Characters: Death the Kid Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

random but I think he would listen to twice

Warnings: none

Kid was enamored of you

there was something about your cool and aloof personality that drew him towards you

but what he couldn't understand was why you were so mean to him

he doesn't think he's done anything wrong to you and really wishes you would just tell him if he did

he's under the impression you just don't like him and chalks it up to him being "asymmetrical garbage" :(((

after a week or so of him sulking Liz gets sick of his shit and tells him it's actually the exact opposite

but Kid never listens to her does he

so she calls an emergency Girls (+ Kid) meeting

Maka tells him "They're mean to you because they like you. It might be because they have a hard time expressing it otherwise."

and Tsubaki is like "There's a word for that in Japanese. They're called Tsunderes!"

and with that one word everything finally clicks for Kid

all the times you've snapped at him or made sassy comments with a red face wasn't out of anger

you were blushing

he's a lot less butthurt about it now that he's got you all figured out

every time you say something snappy he's like :3 cus he knows you dont mean it

sometimes he likes to respond a certain way to see you get flustered

and one day he decides to confess so suave omgg

"You're an idiot." "An idiot who wants to take you out."

is he a little embarassed? yes but he already has confirmation you like him back and the way you're quick to turn away from him confirms it

but yeah now that he see's past your facade you are dating and so happy yayy

he doesn't mind your 'tsundere' behavior all too much after that

do not call him asymmetrical tho he will cry

#soul eater fanfic #soul eater #soul eater x reader #soul eater fanfiction #soul eater headcanons #death the kid x reader #death the kid soul eater #death the kid #dtk x reader #dtk soul eater #soul eater dtk #dtk