#shot decided to make my arm hurt lol

[joelmillers-whore]

I'll Be Here In The Morning

summary: after a heated argument, you try to go to sleep alone, but joel knows you can’t and he doesn’t like not sleeping next to you. he comes back and the next thing you know, the two of you can’t keep your hands off of each other.

Recommended Song(s): Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

Word Count: 4.2K

Series or One-Shot

Warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, no outbreak, slight relationship insecurity, they have a fight but it’s not shown, SMUT, joel calling reader darlin’ because why not, joel reassuring them and being sweet, also age gap i guess, canon divergent, praise kink, unsafe sex (don't be like joel, use a condom)

A/N: hey ya’ll! this is my first TLOU fic and i am so excited to post it here (also my first time posting on here). i am an AO3 user through and through but i thought it was time to broaden my horizon so to speak. i was so overwhelmed with how many of you wanted to see this type of fic, so please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think or request anything you want to see. i’ll try to get to it/ i’m trying to be more active. i’m not sure if my asks are open so let me know if that works lol. anyway, i hope ya’ll enjoy this!!

Slamming the bedroom door behind you, you crossed your arms over your chest. You were angry, furious even, mostly with yourself but also with your boyfriend. Anger was coursing through your veins, pumping white-hot rage through them that made your chest constrict when you thought back to the petty fight you’d had with Joel not ten minutes ago.

It was mindless, stupid bullshit but you’d gotten angry over it anyway. You weren’t even a hundred percent sure just how it started, but you did know that you had been a simmering pot, ready and waiting to explode. So you had needed to get out of there, away from him. You didn’t fight with Joel often, even though your clashing personalities would beg to differ. When you did get angry though, there was no holding either of you back. 

You and Joel each had your own way of dealing with anger and most times, you chose to walk away, not wanting to accidentally say the wrong thing or to say something hurtful that you didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. So, here you were. In the bedroom. Fighting back against your racing heart and rising body temperature.

You had come back home after a long day on your feet and something mundane had set you off, and Joel just happened to be in the line of fire. Before long, you and Joel had gotten into it and not in the fun and sexy way you found yourself always wanting from him, regardless of what kind of mood you were in. 

You thought back to the argument and how dark and endless Joel’s eyes had looked, how they seared into you when you were fighting, keeping you locked in and firmly in place. A shiver ran up the length of your spine as you imagined how he had crossed his arms, clearly in frustration, but how even when you were angry, you hadn’t been able to look away from his broad chest or how the material of his shirt had been pulled so tautly over his bulging muscles, making you bite your lip.

That annoying little flutter in the pit of your stomach made you groan in exasperation because even when you were upset with him, you couldn’t deny the sexual chemistry you and Joel had. 

You shook your head, trying to shake yourself from your lust-induced daydream. You were overtired from work and clearly still reeling from an argument that you hadn’t been expecting to come home to. You glanced over at the clock; it was later than you had realized it was. How long had you and Joel been fighting for?

The all too familiar feeling of regret settled into your bones. You hated fighting with Joel, with the one person you considered to be more of a family to you than your actual family. But what was done was done and there was no going back now. 

Neither one of you held onto anger for long, both of you deciding a long time ago that if either one of you were still angry in the morning over what had transpired the night before, you would agree to sit down and hash it out. That rule had probably saved your relationship more than once, and anger between the two of you never lasted for more than two days at most.

Rolling back your shoulders, you held firm to the idea that holding onto what you had said and dwelling on it wouldn’t help you now, so you thought about something else instead. You thought about how your muscles ached and how a migraine was slowly forming. The only cure that could help you now was sleep. 

You knew that come the morning you and Joel would be back to bickering lovingly with each other and laughing over breakfast, just like how it always turned out. He was bound to forgive you, you hoped. But what if this fight was the one that tipped him over the edge? What if when he left, he wouldn’t come back?

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach like a thousand-pound boulder. You bit back the sting of tears and honed your hearing, listening for anything in the darkness that enveloped you. Disappointment manifested quickly when you heard nothing, except for your harsh breathing. Fuck.

You had fucked up royally, laying into him like that. And he wasn’t even there so you could fix it, there was really nothing you could do at the moment. You debated for a minute about calling him but you decided against it. He needed time to cool off— you both did. And you wanted to give him that time. 

With a heavy heart, you started getting ready for bed. Maybe if you went through the motions, pretended like everything was fine, and sped through the night, Joel would be there when you woke up, smirking like you were his whole world again. So you rid yourself of your clothes and changed into something more comfortable; one of Joel’s shirts that went down to your knees and some sleep shorts. You lifted the hem of the shirt to your nose and inhaled, getting lost in the scent of him that still lingered.

It was warm and clean with a faint hint of coffee. It was Joel to the core and you rubbed your thighs together when you thought about how that scent crowded you when you and him made love, or when you had first started seeing each other, you had stayed up during a rain storm and just talked for the whole night, staying awake on black coffee and powdered donuts. 

Mindlessly, you climbed into bed and settled in, trying to fall asleep despite the gnawing feeling in your gut. You sighed heavily, flipping over the pillow and then fluffing it, repeating the motions until you made your head spin. You never could sleep alone. Even before you had met Joel, you hated it. And right now, you hated it even more, especially when you reached over to his side, feeling for him.

But there was nothing there except the coldness of the sheets. You grew annoyed at yourself for how needy you felt without him snuggling next to you, his body heat warming you up better than any blanket could. You wanted Joel here, not anywhere else. And he knew it, which was why he almost never left you to sleep alone if he could avoid it. Almost never. Until now. 

You closed your eyes and tried to count sheep, thinking that it could help. You tried not to concentrate on how alone you felt or how you missed him so much it hurt. Counting sheep must have helped because before you knew it, you found yourself in a dreamless sleep, tossing and turning for the majority of the night. Your ears pricked up when you heard a noise, thinking you heard the bedroom door open. You stiffened, attempting to remain calm and closing your eyes tighter.

Whoever it was moved around in the dark, their shadow fidgeting with the dresser before they climbed into bed next to you. They nudged themselves closer to you and relief washed over you when you recognized their scent. It was Joel. He came back. Just like he always did. 

He shuffled his body closer to you, his solid front melding to your back, as his face snuggled into the crook of your shoulder, just how you liked it. It confirmed that he was there and he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. 

“You still mad?”, Joel mumbled, his Southern drawl coming out gruffer as he tried to keep his voice low. He nuzzled your shoulder deeper, planting a soft kiss there. 

You shook your head, as best as you could in the position you were in. You were well past the anger stage. And right now, you just wanted him beside you, with you. Right here. You felt Joel’s growing hardness rest against your back and a dull throbbing started in your cunt, making you squirm. 

“I thought you weren’t coming back”, you croaked, the shroud of darkness acting as a shield against how scared you were at the thought of Joel not coming back at all. 

Joel held you tighter, his arms flexing as he wrapped them around you in the same way you were used to. His gesture of keeping you close was more of a comfort to you than any of his words could. You craned your neck slightly, trying to make out the expression that was on Joel’s face, but it was hard.

The bedroom was mostly dark except for a tiny sliver of moonlight that shined through the window, and even then, it was tough. You could make out the tiniest of details in the low light; like the imperceptible way that his eyebrows creased when he was focused on you, or how you could tell that he was still smiling because of the way his eyes crinkled, despite being unsure of your mood. God, you loved this man. 

Joel was there for you and you let out a tentative and shaky breath, grateful that he came back to you. You let any remaining tension drain from your body, and shifted your hips, which earned you a sharp groan from Joel, his hand flying to hold your hips in place. 

“I’ll always come back to you, darlin’”, his voice was gruff and came out strained. His hot breath fanned over your ear, “Always”. 

“Promise?”, you asked, grinding back into him again. It was the last confirmation you needed and then you would drop it, let the argument fade away. 

You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice, “Promise”. 

The tightness that had been sitting on your chest was no more and you were feeling bold, and a little more than turned on. The idea that Joel would always come back to you made you wet, and you rubbed your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of the pressure you felt between your legs.

As if sensing your arousal, Joel’s hand wrapped around your middle, pulling your ass flush with his erection, his hand splayed across your clothed stomach, holding you to him. 

You felt his short stubble run along the side of your neck, and your jaw, the abrasive sensation making your pussy flutter with the idea of that stubble rubbing against you harshly, until you were swollen and red down there. 

“Baby...”, Joel protested weakly, his half-hearted attempt at drawing out the tension between you two. But there was tension and it was a string that was being pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment. 

You grabbed Joel’s hand that was on your stomach, guiding it lower and lower until you stopped at the waistband of your sleep shorts, your chest on fire from your choppy breathing. 

“Please, Joel”, you whined, grinding your ass back into him and moving your hips in slow circles, spurring him on. “I want you to make me feel so good like you always do”. 

You were back to guiding Joel’s hand past the waistband of your shorts, into your underwear where he could feel how wet you were for him. He groaned, the vibrations from it making your skin tingle. An almost non-existent fuck was whispered as Joel’s hand found your soaking cunt, his deft fingers sliding through your folds.

When you removed your hand from his, letting him take charge, he hesitated. But when his thumb found your clit and you moaned, throwing your head back, he continued, not stopping for even a second. 

“This good?”, he asked, as he teased your hole with his thick digit, pulsing the finger in and out, just enough to taunt you with pleasure and then rip it away when it felt too good. It was frustrating but you figured you somewhat deserved it for the fight from earlier. 

You hummed, “Mo-more”, and you bucked into his hand, gyrating against it as you searched for more friction. 

Joel sucked the pulse on your neck hard and you groaned, your head rolling to the side in pure ecstasy as he licked the spot when he pulled away. Fulfilling your command, he continued to work you over, work you to the edge. Your moans mixed with the sound of his finger, which soon became two fingers, pumping into you, a squelching emanating from you with every pump.

He was stretching you out, trying to prep you for his cock. Even this far into the relationship you needed some prep, he was that big. But you wouldn’t want it any other way. You loved his size and his girth and how deep he could go. 

“Can you come for me, darlin’?”, Joel asked, as a groan slipped past his lips. 

You flinched when his fingers curled, bringing you back to the moment as a tingle started low in your belly, the pressure building and building until it was too much, it was all too much. 

“Fuck—”, you cried, cutting yourself off as your orgasm slammed into you, making you see stars. It was searing and hot and violent. 

Your hips stuttered as they rocked into Joel’s hand, finding comfort in the fact that he was still lazily pumping into you, helping you ride out the aftershock. 

“That’s my good girl”, he praised, thumb whispering over your swollen clit. You whined from the added pressure, feeling another orgasm start to build. 

You had just cum and yet Joel was ready and willing to give you another one. Even when his engorged cock was nestled into your back, twitching with the need for his own release. He wanted— no, needed to give you your pleasure before he could seek out his own. Joel teased your clit again, pinching it as you yelped.

He removed his hand from your underwear and brought it to his mouth. You still weren’t facing him but you could hear the obscene sounds coming from him as he licked and sucked his fingers clean of your juices, not letting a drop go to waste. Fuck, you were so turned on already it was positively insane. 

Joel gripped your waist and turned your body toward him, positioning himself so that he was slotted in between your legs, his upper body resting on his forearms, so as to not crush you with his body weight. Both of your chests were heaving at this point as another shot of excitement and arousal shot through you.

You brought a hand to Joel’s cheek, thumbing over his scruff and savouring this tender moment between the two of you. 

“I’m sorry”, you said, swallowing your nerves. 

In the softness of the moonlight, Joel’s eyes glimmered when they looked down at you. It wasn’t quite lust or amusement in them, but something else, something closer to love and adoration.

He dipped his head down and kissed you. It was tempered and subdued but sweet as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth. You granted it to him, letting him explore your mouth like it was the first time. A swallowed-up moan left you and Joel pulled back. 

“Me too”. 

It was simple and yet he meant it with his whole heart, you were certain of that. Picking up where you left off, Joel palmed your breast through your— his shirt, making you tremble beneath him. He pinched your nipple and it made you arch your back off the bed, both to escape and chase that feeling. 

“Let’s get this shirt off, hmm?”, Joel mused, playing with the hem of it. You nodded and lifted your upper body off of the bed as he helped you out of it, tossing it somewhere behind him. 

“Your turn”, you said, almost breathlessly, and Joel obliged. He sat up on his knees and stripped himself of his own shirt. 

You couldn’t help but pause and appreciate him and his physique. He wasn’t insanely built like an athlete or someone who stuck to a strict diet all so that they could get a six-pack. Joel’s body was sculpted from years of manual labour and although some might not be turned on by a broad chest and a toned stomach, you certainly were, and you were enamoured by it.

Your hand seemed to have had a mind of its own because you were raking your fingernails along his chest and stomach, drawing a line all the way down to his waistband. You watched as his muscles tensed from your touch, his eyes snapping shut like he had to concentrate on restraining himself.

Your hand remained on his waistband, your index finger playing with the dark line of hair that led all the way past the pants and to the straining member, you knew awaited you. 

“If you don’t quit staring at me like that, darlin’, this might be over before either of us want it to be”, he drawled, quiet and low. 

Your eyes snapped to his, which were dark and endless pools filled with lust. He looked like he was ready to devour you and your thoughts came to life when he gripped your thighs forcefully and spread them apart, making quick work of peeling you out of your shorts and drenched panties. 

Joel groaned above you, “Such a pretty pussy, and ‘s all for me, ain’t she?”. He bit the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you jump. But you didn’t go very far, his grip on the back of your thighs holding you close to him and keeping you in place. 

You wiggled your hips, trying to get him to hurry up, “All for you”, you whine. 

Joel chuckled, but didn’t tease you for much longer, answering your silent prayer as he dove into your cunt, lapping and sucking like he was a man starved. You writhed beneath him as he continued, not letting up as he brought you to the edge of another orgasm. 

“How you feelin’, baby?”, Joel asked, as he came up for air. You nodded fervently, feeling like you could die if he didn’t continue what he was doing. 

He chuckled as he went back in, the vibrations making your head swirl and your toes curl at the sensation of his tongue fucking into you. You were so close it hurt and Joel could tell.

He shushed you before bringing his thumb to your clit and massaging it in tandem with his tongue, making you mewl and bury your hands in his short hair, pulling at his scalp as you begin to grind yourself on his face, practically riding him as you chase your high. 

“I’m gonna—”, and you do. 

You cum hard and quick, this orgasm ripping into you like a hurricane. The blinding wave of pleasure had all of your inhibitions clouded, as a light buzz started coasting through your body, leaving you sated. Your mouth is agape, a mix of a whimper and a shrill moan escaping you. 

You felt as though you had just run a marathon, your body was on fire and yet there was a calm as you came down. You revelled in the aftermath of your orgasm, feeling drunk off of it. There was a slick layer of sweat that coated your whole body, but you didn’t seem to care. Your mind was quiet as you listened to your breathing, your heart hammering below the surface.

Running a hand through your hair, you felt the mattress dip when Joel shifted his body weight, his beard glistening with your slick. You reach down and grab his face with both hands, bringing him to your lips. You groan when you taste yourself on him, the tang fueling your growing desire to be filled deep with him. 

Joel murmured something against your lips but you couldn’t hear, your heart beating too loudly. “What?”, you asked. 

“I need to be inside of you”, he whispers again, and you moan as he ruts into your bare core. 

“Then do it”, you said, looking at him through hooded eyes. 

Joel bit his lip, shaking his head as he stripped out of his jeans and then his boxers. His dick was thick and angry, the tip a bright red as it leaked pre-cum. You followed a drop with your eyes as it trailed down the shaft and you licked your lips at the sight. 

Joel chuckled, the noise shooting straight to your needy core. You sat up slightly, reaching out for his cock but he stopped you, “Not tonight, sweet thing”, he stated, “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last if you start suckin’ me off”. 

You keened at his words, desperate for some sort of relief. You snaked your hand from the pillow all the way down your chest, rubbing your nipple as you moaned, Joel’s eyes never leaving you. His eyes on you felt right, like you were putting on a show just for him, and in a way, you were. He watched your hand slide lower down your stomach and finally disappear between your legs. 

“Goddammit”, Joel hissed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, “What’d I just say?”. 

He ripped your hand away from your aching cunt, pining it above your head as punishment. You let out a choked sob, “Please...”. 

Joel’s cock twitched against his stomach at your plea, and he released you. He gripped his length and tugged harshly, letting beads of pre-cum dribble all over his hand.

You watched him throw his head back as he panted above you, finding a rhythm. As you opened your mouth to whine and tell him that you needed him, he grabbed the back of your legs and folded you in half, thrusting his hard cock into your pussy. 

The force of him slamming his cock inside of you without much warning was enough to make you cry out. You couldn’t focus on much more than the pleasure that he could provide. It was as if you could never be fully satisfied, not when it came to Joel. You would always want him as desperately as he wanted you, each and every time. His hips snapped into yours, almost to the point of pain as he set a demanding pace, burying himself deeper and deeper into you. 

“So”. He grunted with a thrust. “Fucking”. Another snap of his hips. “Needy”. Thrust. 

Joel was never one to deny you, and you knew that. You might have been needy but he was willing to give you whatever you needed. And most times, all you needed was him. Him and that fucking delicious cock. So, he made sure he delivered you another orgasm. You chased your release, the desire striking you like a bolt of lightning— fast, powerful, and all-consuming.

It started in your toes and rushed in. Joel’s thick cock pumped in and out of you hungrily. He was both providing you with another orgasm and trying to find his own release. Each thrust was more punishing than the last, each angle hitting the right spot, and guiding you both to your release. 

“That’s it, baby”, he groaned, manhandling you until you were basically straddling him, his hands on your back, holding you steady.

“Can you gimme another one?”, Joel purred into your ear as he fucked up into you, his hips losing their rhythm and you knew he was close. 

“I’ll try”, you said, snaking a hand in between your bodies, and rubbing your cunt in time with each pound of his hips. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so good”. 

He barely finished his sentence before you were shaking in his arms, finding your orgasm from his praise. 

Drunk on only two orgasms, you didn’t even know what you were saying at this point, too sensitive and too sated at the same time, “Mmm, love when you make me come”. 

Joel laughed with adoration as he continued fucking you, chasing his own release. “And I love makin’ you come, darlin’”. 

You felt your walls clamp around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. With a final few pumps, he groaned, letting his head fall against your shoulder. Joel tensed slightly and his body shook as he deposited ropes of cum deep into you.

Your head lolled to the side, feeling his body grow slack against yours. His was flush against you, trying to control his breathing as you did the same, your arms wrapped around him as you stroked his back. 

A long moment of comfortable silence passed before he lifted his head up, scanning your face. You smiled tiredly at him as he kissed you, letting the bliss wash over you both.

Joel kissed your forehead and slipped out of you. You in turn whined at the loss of being full of him. Your limbs were heavy as you melted into the mattress, feeling Joel collapse next to you. His arm drifted around your waist, pulling you into his side. 

He kissed your temple affectionately, “‘m sorry about our fight”. 

You nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I know”, you bit your lip, contemplating your next words, “I just worry that one day we’ll really get into it and you’ll never come back”. 

Joel stiffened for a moment, before he turned to you, whispering into your hair, “You don’t need to worry ‘bout that ever, darlin’. Because I’ll always be here in the morning”. 

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou hbo #the last of us fic #writeblr #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #pedropascal #pedro is daddy #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrohub #my fic #fic rec #fanfic

[strawb3rrystar]

hi I was TOTALLY not stalking ur acc cus it’s so good..nooo way🥰🤞🏼

buttttt I was her to rec a lucifer x reader!preferably fem,but gn is always alr,all the power to u!

so maybe like reader looks super innocent,and is like shorter than him,has a golden retriever kinda demon form and is a overlord,and the reason she is a overlord is cus she’s a assassin and is VERY well known lol.

and luci didn’t know that and is just like 😨 when she casually told him.

you can do this by hcs,one shot,or blurb ur choice :3

Simplicity is far from simple.

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem! Overlord! Reader

Warnings: A tiny wee bit of hurt, but lots of comfort and fluff

Word count: 534

✰Masterlist

When you first met Lucifer you were one of the many, many sinners who had never seen him before. You had only ever heard about him in stories. You must admit he looked very different than how you pictured him in your head.

You were immediately enthralled by his charm and wittyness. He was also quite charmed by you, as you were unlike any sinners he'd seen before. After Lilith left him, Lucifer was scared to start dating again. But he decided to give it a shot with you.

The two of you would meet outside his palace, frequenting a small, Imp owned, café. Lucifer liked you very much, and wanted to spend his day with you. The first time he held your hand, he realized that you were smaller than him. The way your palms fit together so perfectly made him giddy inside.

When you told Lucifer you were an Overlord, he was shocked. To him, you seemed way too innocent to even be in Hell in the first place. Your upbeat personality and bright eyes confused him. Most of the Overlords he knew about took on a much more sinister form. But you? You were much, much different.

Since that day, Lucifer heard your name be brought up during the topic of Overlords. So, he had to guess you were very popular. One day, while at the café, he overheard some sinners talking about you. He heard them mention something about assassination, which peaked his curiosity. But he decided to ignore it, focusing on his outing with you.

Later, when the two of you were in his workshop, he decided to ask you about it. He cleared his throat, gaining your attention. "My dear, may I ask you something?"

"Well, you just did. But sure Luci, what's up?" You reply, walking over next to him.

"I heard something today. About you being an assassin? I know it's silly, and you probably aren't even one." Lucifer rambles.

"Oh no, I am." You say, making him pause and turn towards you.

"Huh?" He questions, utterly confused.

"Yeah, I'm an assassin." You shrug, like it wasn't a big deal.

Lucifer rubs his temples then stares at you "And why didn't you tell me, my dear?"

"You never asked. And also, I didn't want my job to change your view of me." You admit, looking away from him.

"Why would that change my view of you?" He asks, tilting his head.

"Well, you're amazing, and kind, and funny. And I'm.. well.. me." You answer truthfully.

"My dear, you're all those things as well. I'm literally the King of Hell, I've seen it all. Trust me, you being an Overlord-assassin doesn't change what we have." Lucifer cups your cheek, turning your head back towards him.

"Really?" Your eyes get the same shine they always have when you're around Lucifer.

"Yes, really." He kisses your forehead. That was the first time the King of Hell had ever kissed you. A smile fills your face as you wrap your arms around his torso. He graciously wraps his arms around your shoulder, holding you close. The two of you stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each others presence.

Star's notes -> I TOTALLY do not feel super honored that someone is stalking my blog.. noooo way >:}

(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @astrolovedy @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @idontreallyexistyet @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @blood-heart22 @cirrus-sampling-sanity @hazbinhottel @sugarplumz100 @myamythos @hazbinhappy @samohxt2-0 @mollzaj @sunshines-bright @t0uchst4rv3d | Join the taglist

#☆strawb3rrystar answers requests #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader

[dorothy-rainbird]

Literally can’t stop imagining isekai’d reader accidentally appearing in Genshin but before the main story. Like, they appear right in Inazuma when Ei was just done leaving her first prototype puppet-

Coincidentally our reader appears right before Kunikuzushi is about to witness his second betrayal and saves him in a very chaotic scenario.

Did I forget to mention that reader gets to keep the in game abilities and time having a very slow effect on them ( 1 hour in Teyvat= 1 minute to reader’s body) basically making them semi-immortal? Yeah reader is op in this fight me.

____________________

Kunikuzushi walked the streets of Inazuma, fascinated but confused by the world around him. He was all alone with no knowledge on how to blend in….

As he walked he could feel others staring and whispering. He did not like it. He was just wondering what to do next when a loud noise from the stalls behind him caught his attention. He turned around.

In one of the food stalls, a person had just fell into the fruit crates from the above set of stairs. Did they jump? They were groaning while the owner of the stall was yelling at them. They wore…peculiar clothing. In fact they looked very peculiar, so different from everybody else.

Kunikuzushi was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the Shogunate Samurai yelling “GET THEM” from the same place from where the stranger fell. Before he could even blink, the stranger jumped from the crate and ran towards him. They grabbed his wrist and continued their dash.

“Bonjour, I’m here to fuck with the timeline! And you’re included!”, the stranger declared. Kunikuzushi wonders what “fuck” means but with the shogunate samurai on his tail he decides to focus on running instead.

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” He was confused and mildly scared that a random stranger just appeared out of nowhere decides to kidnap him.

“NO TIME FOR THAT HONEY JUST HANG ON!”

“???”

Ah, he hadn’t noticed that they are running into a dead end that is a massive wall. The stranger was unfazed tho.

Without stopping, they swooped him up bridal style and JUMPED onto a roof beside them. But because of the samurai still after them, they proceeded to parkour out of the city with Kunikuzushi still in their arms. The lad was screaming the whole time lol.

———————————————

The duo managed to escape the city and reach Chinju forest. The stranger panted for air and carefully let Kunikuzushi down. He scooted a good distance away when they did.

Exhausted, the stranger crotched down in front of him, still breathing loudly.

“W-who are you and why did you kidnap me??” Kunikuzushi fearfully asked again, but this this time there were a few sparks of electro around him…

Better start explaining.

“Listen pal, you don’t have to be scared. I ain’t gonna hurt you-“

“Then why did you kidnap me!”

“As I said, I’m not gonna hurt you. If I wanted so then I could have done it the way here.” The stranger replied with a poker face. Kunikuzushi gulped.

“Well then why were you being chased a-and…why did you kidnap me…?”

The stranger huffed and sat down.

“Guess I better explain it to you then…” they met his eyes, he was cautious. Speak wisely.

“*Ahem* Uh…well..you see…” He was staring intently. Don’t slip up about the game’s story or anything about the whole game in fact.

“I’m your…uh…guardian-“

“Guardian?”

“Uh- angel!”

“Guardian angel?” He tilted his head curiously.

“NO! I mean- I’m definitely anything but an angel h-haha..”

“You’re a d-demon?” His fear was back.

“NO NO! I’m uh…your guardian…” they looked into his eyes. And then finally spoke.

“FRIEND!”

“…..??”

“…I’m your guardian friend!”

A very awkward silence rung into ears. He stared. For a good few seconds until…

“You’re my…guardian friend?” He asked, a small curiosity in his eyes.

“YES! I mean- yeah, pretty much.” They smiled.

“B-but…is it normal for friends to kidnap each other??”

Fuck.

How are they going to explain that?

Well, worth a shot.

They took a deep breath and-

“Well you see…guardian friends are very special creatures. They are barely seen in Teyvat. And when the samurai saw me, they thought I was some sort of immigrant and tried to arrest me. I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you normally-“

“How do I know you are my guardian friend? Or how do I know if they actually exist and you’re not some crazy person? And what even was that “fucking with timeline” thing?” He was cautious again but the curiosity never left his eyes.

The stranger smirked. Time to put that in game knowledge in use, eh?

“I’m a person from the future version of Teyvat. Every once a while. Special people are chosen to time travel back into time to do whatever they want. I chose to be your guardian friend because you definitely need one. How would you explain my attire?” The stranger began explaining but Kunikuzushi had his doubts. He was about to interrupt when-

“I also know you like the back of my hand Kunikuzushi.”

He froze. The stranger continued.

“Let’s see, made as a prototype puppet for gnosis but-“

“OKAY OKAY I BELIEVE YOU” He quickly stopped them.

“Heh, you do?” The amused stranger raised an eyebrow.

“Y-yeah…but tell me, what do guardian friends do? I’ve never heard of them.”

With that question the stranger started giggling. Kunikuzushi tilted his head. Did he ask something weird? The stranger got up and with a cheerful smile,

“Ohohoho! That’s simple my friend! Guardian friends are just like guardian angels but more fun!”

“More….fun…?”

“Yep, we basically guide you and all but also provide company. Like a partner in your shenanigans. A friend! An amigo! A chum! A family!”

“A…family..?” He asked confused.

“Oh…do you not know what a family is?”

“No. What is a family?”

The stranger sighed with a small smile and offered him a hand. He was hesitant for a second but took it.

“Join me for a walk buddy, I’ll explain everything.”

He nodded and they strolled around the forest, hand in hand.

“A family is a special person, or a group of people. Don’t matter if human or animal.” The stranger plucked a flower and tucked it in his hair.

“They feel familiar. They feel comfortable. Like the warmth of a small flame.”

A few crytalflies fluttered overhead.

“No matter what happens you can always return to them. They are your home, somewhere you can rest when you are tired of the world.”

“…Do I have a family?”

“Not yet, but you do have a friend.”

“Can friends be family..?”

“They can.”

“So are you my family?”

“That is up to you to accept me as one.”

…..

A comfortable silence was enjoyed as the two friends sat underneath a tree, watching the glowing plants and creatures of the forest.

“I never got your name.”

“It’s y/n.”

_________________

BONUS

Kunikuzushi: Y/n what does “fuck” mean?

Y/n: *chokes on air*

Also here is part 2

#genshin scara #genshin impact #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #genshin x reader #genshin isekai #isekai #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin fluff #genshin crack #genshin x y/n #genshin x you

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Fight Club

Pairing: Matt Murdock x (AFAB)Reader (with platonic Frank Castle x Reader)

Summary: @hellskitchenswhore is killing it with the prompts lately. Per her request: Matt's freaking out thinking you might be cheating on him because for the last few weeks, you’ve been coming home smelling like Frank. What he doesn’t know is that you asked Frank to teach you how to fight and didn’t tell Matt.

Warnings: 18+/SMUT. No use of Y/N. Female/AFAB reader (use of terms like girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Brief mention of an active shooter at an office, Frank and Matt using pet names like sweetheart, mentions and accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, Unprotected sex, Fingering, P in V, Creampie, and Possessiveness from our dear Matt. Sort of getting caught after the fact.

Notes: I started taking kickboxing like three weeks ago, so I like to pretend that qualifies me to know what I'm talking about (It doesn't lol). So apologizes if I got any of the terminology wrong. UPDATE DEC 2023: I wrote an alternate ending to this fic that ends in a threeway with Frank that you can read here

WC: 5,000

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

“That’s it sweetheart, last round I promise.” Frank encourages you as you take swings at the bag in front of you. 

You’ve been at this for at least an hour and your arms feel like jello. You can’t remember the last time you were breathing this hard that wasn’t from Matt bending you in half. Jumping directly into the Hudson would have kept you drier than the amount of sweat currently pouring down your face and exhausted body.

“Atta girl, atta girl!” Frank praises as you take your last few swings, arms too weak to make any real movement of the bag

“Alright, you’re getting the hang of it now. Few more sessions and you’ll be out there with Red every night.”

“Pfft I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m just trying to make sure I can protect myself is all.”

“So remind me again why you didn’t ask him to teach you this?”

It started last week. One of your favorite coworkers was going through a bitter divorce and her estranged husband decided to confront her at the office and pulled a gun. You heard two shots ring out from your desk and feared the worst - all the active shooter situations you'd seen on TV were happening live in your life. Fortunately, as you fled for safety, Jerry from accounting was able to disarm and tackle the guy before he could hurt anyone thanks to his black belt in Jiujitsu.

Even though the incident ended okay, it had spooked you enough to get yourself some defense classes, for all those times when your vigilante boyfriend was too far uptown to protect you at a moment’s notice and Jerry wasn’t around to save the day.

Matt was always overprotective of you and you hated to think how he’d react to the incident, so you hadn’t told him. When the story hit the news, you lied (via text so he couldn’t detect it) and said it happened on a different floor and you didn’t even notice. 

You also didn’t tell him about your decision to learn self-defense. Matt was more than qualified to teach you, but for some reason, you just didn’t feel comfortable asking for his help with this. Maybe it was his propensity to throw himself into helping those he cared about, you especially, that gave you hesitation to give him another thing to prioritize over himself. Maybe it was just how good he was at fighting that made you not want to “be a beginner” in front of him (not that Matt would ever judge you about anything.)

In fairness to you, you hadn’t intended to learn it from his frenemy and former client, but you’d showed up at the boxing gym near your work and the gruff men inside intimidated you so much, you bolted out the door before signing up for a class, tears welling in your eyes when you quite literally bumped into Frank on the street.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, nodding towards the door of the boxing gym

“I thought… Look I want to learn how to fight. Or at least how to defend myself. This place is close to work but um… might not be the right fit for me.”

“Why don’t you just ask Red?”

“It’s a long story,” you replied with a sigh “but I really don’t want to ask him. Or for him to even know about it. So can you please not mention you saw me here or we had this conversation?”

“Okay, can I ask why not?”

“You can but I’m not gonna answer.” 

Frank chuckled and shook his head

“Well if you want to learn to fight, this isn’t the best place. I know Vinny the owner and he’s a shit teacher. But if you want to learn for real, I’m happy to teach you.”

“What? Wait really? Wait, Frank you know how to fight?”

“Sweetheart, I was a Marine for over 15 years, ‘course I know how to fight.”

“And you’d do that for me?”

“Course. You’re Red's girl. What times’ he leave for his little night job?”

“9:00”

“Great, meet me here at 9:30. Tonight.”

And that was how you ended up here, collapsing on the gym mat beneath you with a groan.

“Not bad for your first time. We just gotta get you in the habit of resetting your hands after every hit, and you’ll be golden” Frank praises again

“Oh yeah, I forgot, always protect the face so I don’t end up lookin like you.” you jest

“Ouch” he feigns hurt with a smirk on his face “Red teach you to swing low like that?”

“Nah Castle, that’s all me. It’s part of why he loves me. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure. See you then.”

By the time Matt returns home, you’re showered and in bed, sore muscles pulsing every time you twist and turn in your sleep. Between the smell of sweaty clothes in the hamper and the scent of your freshly washed skin rubbing against silk sheets, plus the heat radiating off your sore muscles as he crawls into bed silently beside you, Matt figures it out pretty quickly.

‘She started going back to the gym. Hmm. Have to ask her about that in the morning.’ he thinks as he drifts off beside you.

You awake in the morning to gentle hands rubbing at your back. 

“Mmm morning Matty” you mumble, still pulling yourself out of sleep

“Morning sweetheart.”

“What are you doing?” you ask as he works a little lower down your spine

“Giving you a massage. I can tell you’re sore. When did you start going back to the gym?”

“Just yesterday. And you’re right I’m super sore. Thank you, this is a nice way to start my day.”

“Of course sweetheart. What gym did you go to? Did you have fun?” he inquires

His innocent prodding has you waking fully quickly, trying to cover your tracks without outright lying and getting caught.

“Oh this gym near work. Couple people in the office recommended it. And yeah I had fun.” 

All truths.

“That’s nice. Mmmm do you want to start the coffee or shower first?” he asks, seemingly letting the subject go

Perfect.

As you rush around to get ready for work, Matt grabs the laundry hamper from the bathroom, walking it over to the washing machine. Your dirty workout clothes from the night before sit on top, now less potent that they have completely dried. But he can’t help but feel like something smells off.

Sure it smells like you - natural scent mixed with your fading sweat, but there’s something else. Something familiar. A very subtle hint of spiciness mixed with… is that gunpowder? 

‘Weird’ Matt thinks to himself, but brushes it off a moment later, the smell not strong enough to really garner more than a passing thought.

But three times he does the laundry in a row, he smells it. It’s so subtle, he might not even give it another thought, but it’s just so damn familiar. 

It takes another week for him to ask you about it.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been going to the gym a lot lately,” he mentions over dinner 

“Mmmhmm. Yeah, can you feel my muscles growing? I’m feeling stronger.” you reply

“Yeah. What exactly are you doing at the gym? It’s really working.”

“Oh a little cardio, a little strength, you know…” you skirt around, being intentionally vague

“That’s good. Is it like a class or?”

“Um sort of. Just this guy at the gym, he’s been helping me. You know, walking me through the exercises.” 

Also technically the truth.

“That’s good. Well, I’m glad you found something you like.”

‘Okay, so that guy must smell like this. She’s close enough to him in a warm sweaty gym, so there’s a little bit on her clothes. Makes sense.’ Matt thinks to himself. But he still can’t shake the feeling that that smell is so familiar.

Two weeks later, Matt is out on patrol when he hears a familiar heartbeat on the fire escape a few floors down from where he’s perched.

Frank.

“You just gonna sit there all night, listinin’ Red?” Frank asks

“Very funny Frank.” Matt says, hopping down to Frank’s level

“Haven’t seen you in a while” Matt comments

“Been busy. Madani’s been usin’ me more.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re going legit Frank.”

“Not a shot in hell, Red. But gotta pay the bills somehow.”

And then a strong breeze blows. Frank’s signature blend of sweat, aftershave, and metallic mixed with gunpowder from all the weapons he handles overwhelms Matt’s nose. Matt cocks his head in confusion. It’s so damn familiar. But of course it is, it’s Frank. How many times has Matt been on a rooftop with him like this, bs-ing the night away while monitoring the city?

After catching up for a bit, they go their separate ways, the rest of Matt’s evening turning uneventful.

He returns home to you shortly after 3 am, your soft breathing as you sleep calms him as he strips off his suit. 

You hadn’t met with Frank tonight. He said something about following a lead and you were perfectly fine with that, you needed an off day. 

Matt curls up in bed beside you, resting his head on your back and falling asleep quickly.

The next night, Frank is really putting you through your paces and you swear you’re ready to collapse when he finally calls it for the night. 

Per usual, Frank offers to walk you home when you’re done and for the first time since you started coming here, you accept the offer since you stayed a bit later than usual tonight. At least until you can make it to Hell’s Kitchen and within range of Matt. 

You and Frank make small talk as you go and eventually, the chill of the autumn air has you shivering in your still-damp-from-sweat workout clothes. 

“Here sweetheart,” Frank says with a lopsided smirk, slinging his worn jacket over your shoulders. 

“Thank you Castle. Always a gentleman.”

“Course, ‘specially for Red’s girl.”

You make it to 35th and 10th, close enough to home and hand his jacket back to him, parting ways with a nod and a polite “goodnight.”

The later hour coupled with the particularly intense session has you collapsing into bed without even removing your shoes, let alone your gym clothes.

When Matt returns a few hours later, the smell hits him like a truck. 

‘I swear to god Frank, if you’re bleeding on my couch again…’ Matt thinks to himself. 

But when he enters the apartment the only heartbeat he can hear is yours. He inches slowly toward the bedroom and rolls the door open gently. He reaches down to feel the soft lycra of your leggings on your body, careful not to stir you from your slumber. The smell of your sweat clinging to your clothes fills his senses, way more potent than normal plus that other scent you’re bringing home from the gym. Matt pauses to wonder why he thought Frank was here but then it hits him. 

Oh my god. The mystery smell from the gym you’ve been bringing home is Frank. 

But how could you smell like… 

And then the gears in his head start turning. And he feels like a goddamn idiot. 

You had been going to the gym. But not to work out. You were cheating. With Frank of all people. And you’d made the critical error of not showering when you got home. 

Matt begins to pace the apartment, rubbing at his chin as his thoughts move a million miles a minute about what to do. 

Did he confront you? Did he confront Frank?! What should he even say?

The sun rises and he’s still pacing and contemplating when his alarm rings out. He shuts it off before it can wake you too. He needs more time to think about his next move. He gets ready for work quietly and slips out the door before you awake. 

You find it odd you haven’t heard from Matt all day. When you woke up you saw his Devil suit in a heap in the living room and there was no damage to it or blood on it. So you knew he had come home and was relatively okay. But it was so odd for him to leave without a goodbye kiss or go this long in the day without so much as a text. But he had been busy with a heavy caseload lately. You finally break shortly after lunch and text him first. 

“Hey Matty. Know you’re busy but I miss you and I love you. Dinner tonight?”

“Can’t. Working late. Don’t wait up.” He responds

That was… oddly curt. But again you figure he’s stressed and busy. 

Matt on the other hand has been wracked with stress all day. It only took an hour of his constant pacing and fidgeting for Foggy to break and finally ask.

“Matt. What’s up?”

“I think… I think I’m being cheated on.” Matt confesses. He leaves the Frank part out of the equation, wanting Foggy to be as objective as possible about his response. 

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“She’s been going to the gym like every night for a month now right when I leave for patrol and she came home last night smelling like… another man. And she’s been smelling like it a little the whole month but last night it was all over her”

“So did you ask her?”

“Well no but…” 

“Matt you are literally a human lie detector and yet here you are jumping to conclusions instead of doing the rational thing and just asking her.”

And maybe Matt would have taken Foggy’s advice if he thought you were just cheating with your gym trainer. But this was Frank. And that made it all the more complicated. 

Matt decides finally what he’s going to do. He’s going to follow you tonight, catch you in the act and confront both of you together.  

Matt still hadn’t come home when you depart for your nightly workout session, but little did you know he’s there. Pacing on the roof, waiting for you to leave. As soon as he hears the lobby door shut behind you, he springs in to action, taking the stairs two at a time into the apartment and changing out of his lawyer suit and into his devil suit as quickly as possible, making sure not to lose your heartbeat now a block and a half away. He makes up for the lost distance quickly and is practically on top of you by the time you enter the gym. 

“Hey Frank” you call out as you enter

“Hey. I’ll be over in a second.” he replies from the locker rooms

Matt crouches down by the side of the building, just close enough to the windows to hear everything going on inside. 

You’re almost done wrapping your hands when Frank emerges from the locker room. 

“Alright let’s start with our usual, then you can have a go at me again.”

“I don’t know Frank. You really wore me out last night. I woke up still in my clothes and shoes.”

Matt knew it. He fucking knew it. 

“Tough shit sweetheart,” Frank responds with a chuckle. “And what did your boyfriend think about that huh? He got any idea what we’re doing here yet?”

“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear from him at all today. Which is weird even for him. And no I don’t think he’s figured it out yet.”

“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually”

“No, I don’t”

“So what you’re just gonna keep sneakin’ around, becoming a prize fighter without him gettin’ suspicious? Shit even a regular guy would raise some alarm bells by now, but especially Red and all his … shit”

“Frank, I am not here trying to become a prize fighter. I’m just trying to get strong enough to defend myself if he’s not around to do it. That’s all”

Matt’s heart drops. 

How could he possibly think you were cheating? And with Frank of all people. He felt like an idiot. Like a total asshole. Sure you had lied, well, technically withheld the truth and he’s sure you’ll explain why. And he’s hurt if you wanted to learn to fight that you didn’t come to him.  But this was not nearly as egregious a stain on your relationship as he thought it was. 

“I don’t know. Think you should tell him. Show him your moves. Shit, you’ve gotten a couple good hits on me these last few days I’m sure you could give Red a run for his money.” 

“I am not fighting Matt, Francis.” You say with an eye roll

Matt listens for the next hour as Frank talks you through a few hitting drills, then the two of you sparring. Frank is clearly taking it easy on you, but Matt is still impressed by what he could tell of what you were doing. He absolutely would need to take you on to really gauge your skills. 

Franks's phone rings out just as you’re cooling down with some stretches. 

He answers and speaks for a few minutes. 

“Alright sorry to jet out of here but Madani has somethin urgent for me. You good to get home alright?”

“Yeah, thanks Frank. See you tomorrow.”

Frank gives you a fist bump and then disappears through the front door. Matt uses the opportunity to sneak in just before the door slams closed behind Frank. 

You’re sitting on the floor undoing your wraps as he finally speaks up. 

“If you wanted to opportunity to hit Frank, I’m sure I could have arranged it some other way”

Your spine goes icy cold at the sound of the voice behind you. 

“Matt… I” you stumble to explain. 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Matt says, hands up in surrender before reaching up to remove his mask

“What are you doing here?” You ask, ready for him to chew you out for your little secret. 

“Alright if I’m honest, do you promise you’ll be honest?” He asks

“Yes.”

“I followed you here because I thought you were cheating. With Frank. And I know now that’s not what’s happening. And I’m sorry for not just asking you.” He confesses with a sigh

“Oh Matt. I’m so sorry that I did anything to make you think that. That’s not at all what’s happening here.”

“I know. Been listening all night so I know. But I have to know why. Why are you doing this and why didn’t you tell me? And Frank? Really?”

“It’s a long story. Can I tell you while we walk home?”

And so you do. By the time you make it home to your apartment, you’ve come clean about the incident at work and running into Frank and how he’d been coaching you the last few weeks, and why you were so hesitant to ask Matt to be the one to do it.

Matt is oddly quiet through your explanation but nods as you speak. He finally speaks up just as you’re unlocking the front door. 

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t ask me. But now that I know, I am curious…”

“You want to see how much I’ve learned?”

He nods enthusiastically 

“Fine. I guess since now you know you can join us tomorrow. If you want.”

“Perfect, I’ll be there”

He tucks you in to bed with a gentle kiss before heading out on patrol again, no longer clouded by doubts about your relationship. 

—

When you arrive at the gym the next night, Matt is already there, looking extra adorable in his gray sweatpants and messy hair. 

It’s all so familiar to him - the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the smell of sweat and heat, the gym mat sticking beneath his bare feet with every step. Just like Fogwells when he was a kid. He feels at home here.

“Hey sweetheart” he greets you with a kiss

“Hey Matty” you can’t help but smile whenever you see him after a long day “Frank texted me, he’s running late, but um do you want to help me warm up?”

Matt’s face lights up with excitement. “Yes. Okay. What does Frank normally have you do?”

“Two rounds of jab crosses on the bag. Three minutes each.”

“Okay, have at it”

You wrap your hands and begin hitting the bag. Not even thirty seconds in, Matt speaks up.

“Woah woah woah. Frank has been letting you hit like this and not correcting your form?”

“Yes. Wait, what the hell is wrong with my form?”

“You’re too far away from the bag. I can hear your shoulder joint rubbing every time you jab, which means you’re over-extending that left arm. Makes you put way too much energy into each hit, you’re gonna wear yourself out way faster. Here. Step closer.”

Matt moves behind you to help you correct your position, then lets you take a few more punches.

“See? More power, less effort.”

“Yeah. Any other pointers?”

Matt places his hands on your shoulders and places his feet right beside yours, pressing his body tight against your back. You never thought of boxing as particularly erotic, especially not with Frank teaching you. But with Matt’s breath against your ear, you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine straight to your core.

“Go ahead, gimme a few more, I want to feel how your body moves. See just what else Frank has been teaching you wrong.”

“Matt…” the words die on your lips. You want to speak up and defend how kind Frank has been these past few weeks to spend the time to teach you, but Matt’s sweet whisper of encouragement has you forgetting anything else but him.

“C’mon sweetheart, don’t get all shy on me. You hesitate like this for Frank?”

“N..no.” you stutter, then weakly throw out a few more punches

Matt chuckles, knowing just how much he’s winding you up with so little. 

“Put a little more power behind them. Don’t let me being here hold you back.”

You try to do as he says and throw some real hits, but Matt is still pressed right against you.

God, his body is warm usually, but being flush behind you as you move and hit, he practically feels like white-hot iron against you. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and it’s not just from the few minutes of warming up you’ve done. You know Matt can hear it and is going to play you like a fiddle. His own wicked form of punishment for not telling him about your training.

His hands drop from your shoulders, running down your back lightly and coming to rest on your hips. He plants a soft kiss right under your ear.

“You’ve been working hard. Maybe Frank does know what he’s doing.”

He places a second kiss a little lower down your neck.

“You throw any actual punches at him yet?” he asks

“A few. Landed some of them too.”

A third, fourth, and fifth kiss down your neck, working his way toward your shoulder. His stubble is coarse against your skin, sending goosebumps across your flesh, your toes curling into the squishy mat beneath you.

“Mmm that’s my girl.” he says, as he begins sucking on your neck, his right hand snaking around to your front, tickling at the top of your leggings.

“Matty” you chastise

“What?” he feigns ignorance

“Matthew. Do not start something you can’t finish. Frank will be here any minute.”

“You said he’d be late.”

“His text said ‘a few minutes’ and that was already several minutes ago.”

“Well I can’t hear his heartbeat yet, so we’ve got at least five.”

You want to protest more, you really do, but you just can’t resist Matt. 

Laughing low, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his steady breath against your exposed skin a stark contrast to the growing labor of your exhales. You spread your legs a little wider. He takes the invitation and reaches his hand fully into your leggings, using a finger to circle your sensitive bud.

You throw your head back onto his chest with a moan, his name falling from your lips in a breathy whisper.

He continues to suck on your neck as works at your core, finally sliding a finger inside you, then another.

You reach forward to grab the boxing bag for stability, Matt’s touch causing you to writhe enough that you’re not sure you’re able to stay standing without it. As you thrash against him, he inhales deeply, a mix of your natural scent and your arousal consuming his lungs. 

In order to get you exactly where he wants you, he keeps a quick pace, knowing he does not have a lot of time. His rhythm never falters, stroking you over and over in that perfect spongy spot inside you. It’s not long before you're coming apart with a cry of his name.

Just as your head stops spinning and you’re returning to earth, Matt is turning you around and connecting his lips with yours. So hungry to have you, he guides you back a few steps, never breaking his lips from yours, and pushes you against the wall behind you.

His kisses grow more and more desperate, sending an electric tingle down your spine, though that could also be because the wall behind you is made of mirrors and the glass is cool against the heated skin not protected by your sports bra.

As soon as you make contact with the wall, his hands are back on your hips, pushing your leggings and panties down in a heap on the sticky mat beneath you. His clothes soon follow.

You throw your leg up and around his hip, opening yourself to him. An offer he quickly accepts. A soft gasp simultaneously escapes both your lips, the relief between the two of you as he guides himself slowly into your wet and eager core until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Restless fingers reach down to wrap your other leg around him, now fully holding you in the air against the mirrored wall behind you. 

He repeats the pace of his fingers only moments ago and slams into you harshly and quickly, over and over again, desperate to feel you release around him again, knowing Frank could appear at any moment. 

God, your familiar warm heat is absolute perfection, he thinks as he continues to bury himself into you over and over again. You’re still incredibly worked up from your previous climax and it takes just a few thrusts for you to be close again. The way your body is clamping around him and tensing lets him know just how close to ecstasy you are again.

Matt leans forward and you can feel his quickening breath against your ear once more.

“Damnit sweetheart, you scared me so bad. Made me think I was sharing you with someone else.” he grunts as he continues to drive his hips against yours.

“No Matty. I’m yours. Only yours — oh God. I promise.” you whimper back, arching into him further.

“Good. But to make sure you don’t forget, I’m gonna cum inside you, right now and every single night before you leave. So I’m dripping out of you after every hit, every kick. No matter how much Frank trains you. So you remember exactly who. You. Belong to.” he growls lowly against your skin, pushing you even more firmly against the cool glass with every thrust.

“Yes. Please Matt — Fuck. I’m all yours. I promise. Please.”

He thrusts one more time before he cums with a rumble of your name, his arms tightening around you, holding you impossibly close as he releases inside you just as he promised.

As he grinds against you in just the right way to hit that perfect spot one more time, your own orgasm sweeps over you. Your nails dig into his back, holding on to him as you let go, his harsh thrusts now slowed just enough so he can keep the both of you upright.

He feels you release, causing a final low groan from him, slowing down his pace, as your molten pleasure fades away. Still consumed by him and the feel of him holding you close, you lean your head back to rest against the mirror behind you as you catch your breath. Just as you feel like fully slumping against him, he sets you down gently.

You don't even really register him pulling away from you until he speaks. 

“Might want to put your pants back on. Frank’s a block away and I don’t think you want him to know how I warmed you up before he got here.”

You open your eyes and see that Matt is already dressed, a smirk painted across his face as he listens to you scramble to put your clothes on.

Just as you’re adjusting your leggings back in to place, Frank and his large frame enter the gym.

“Hey –” he pauses at the sight of you and Matt in front of him, both sweaty and still panting a little.

“Hmmm. Guess Red knows now.” Frank grumbles

But then his eyes go wide.

“You wanna tell me what that’s about?” he asks with a point of his finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you turn behind you to see what he’s asking about. The mirror is covered in smudges that look vaguely like the outline shape of your body.

“We don’t talk about what happens at fight club…” Matt jokes as you bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.

My Masterlist

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #frank castle #frank castle x reader #charlie cox #nmcu fic #mcu fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil imagine

[anxious-lee]

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: this entire fic was inspired by that one scene where Al threatens Husk in ep 5. it broke my heart to see him so utterly petrified so I wrote this as a hurt/comfort for myself

Warnings: mentions of Alastor's control over Husk, slight NSFW language but it's not actually sexual I just didn't have any synonyms for what I meant lol

Word count: 2,466

-----

When you're an Overlord of Hell, you tend to get pretty comfortable with staying in control.

Because one wrong move can mean the end of the line.

Husk knew that better than most.

And even now, after all that power of his was lost, he still found himself more suited to calling the shots in whatever situation he found himself in. It was just easier that way. If he could remain on top of things, then nothing would go wrong. Mostly.

That feeling of security never lasted long, though, because sooner or later, he was reminded of the terrible choice he made long ago. That he gave away his autonomy to the most psychotic demon in hell.

The way he spoke to him. Like he was so small. And insignificant. Like he existed purely for the bastard's own amusement and nothing else. Any input given was condescended to, patronized, and dehumanized. It formed an ugly little pit in Husk's chest. How little control he had once Alastor stepped into the room. It scared him, in a way that so few things did.

At least he had someone else to talk to who knew how he felt.

Speaking of whom, Angel Dust strutted into the bedroom, sporting a fluffy silk robe.

"Hope I didn't make you wait too long~" he whined seductively.

"Not long at all," the other purred.

The two settled down together in bed, soaking in each other's embrace.

Tonight was all about them, huddled together in hell's moonlight.

Husk remained still as Angel shifted downward until his head fit under Husk's chin, knowing just where to go.

He loved to be pampered, that much was obvious.

It was peaceful for some time before Angel's eyes suddenly blinked open.

"Hey. How come you never want a turn at being the little spoon? I'm not unreasonable, I'm sure we could share," he said coyly.

Husk didn't quite know what to say to that. It wasn't something that needed to be spoken in words. Husk dominated, Angel submitted (in more ways than one). It seemed almost absurd to suggest that Husk would be the one being given affection.

"Nah, I'm good. You look pretty comfy down there, anyway."

Angel, however, wasn't satisfied with that answer. He pulled himself back to get a good look at the cat's face, cocking his own head curiously. Who wouldn't want to be on the receiving end? Even once? It couldn't be understated how warm and protected one could feel in the arms of another. And Husk didn't want that? Did he feel pressured to say that because he knew Angel liked to take that spot?

"Really? You THAT much of a top that you can't play second fiddle once?" said Angel.

"I'm just not a big... "softy-cuddles" kinda guy, as if you already couldn't tell," Husk admitted, gesturing to his overall gruff demeanor.

Angel studied his face.

"Not buying that for a second," he said, punctuating each word with a poke to the chest. "Come on, you're missing out!"

"That's sweet, babe, but I'm-"

"Just five minutes?" Angel pleaded, holding five fingers up in front of him, "Five minutes of me cuddling you for a change. If you decide you hate it, I won't bring it up again. I just... you're always taking care o' me. I want to give some of that back to you, ya'know? You deserve it."

Fuck.

How was he supposed to say no to those puppy eyes?

Besides, it couldn't hurt... right?

"Fine," Husk relented.

"Yay!" His boyfriend cheered.

They rearranged their positions; Husk now farther down the length of the bed and Angel wrapping all three pairs of arms around him like a furry burrito. His knees and head also tucked themselves inward to cradle the cat properly.

It still made Husk a little tense, letting someone handle him so willfully, but the touch was too nice to deny for very long. Thoughts of safety oozed into his brain as his body relaxed against the chest behind him.

"See? Now isn't this nice?" said Angel softly, barely above a whisper, "For a man who supposedly doesn't little-spoon, you've got the moves down pat."

"I'm not making any moves," Husk mumbled, smiling loudly in his voice.

"Well, you're relaxed, aren't ya?"

In a way.

Angel peered down at the bundle of fuzz, taking in how much shorter he was in comparison.

"Awww! I never noticed how cute you were from up here." His hand began petting the top of the kitty's head, smoothing down the hair.

And there was that feeling again. The one that couldn't let Husk enjoy a good thing while he had it. The fear of releasing control.

"I'm not a pet," he grumbled, having no control over the defensiveness in his voice.

Angel, ever oblivious, pressed on. "Oh, but you are to me~. My sweet little Husky~."

Finally, the camel's back broke under that straw.

"Just stop, okay?! I don't-" Husk took a much-needed breath, sitting up, "I know being treated like a toy is your thing, but it's not mine. I don't like being talked to like I'm a pet. Like all I am is your little dancing monkey." It dawned on him just how much of all that was directed at Alastor. The words sunk in like cement in a lake, and he turned his eyes away, unable to look at what he just ruined.

Angel blinked. All of sudden, the moment had soured, and he had no clue why. Was it something he said? Husk said he didn't want to be treated like a toy. Is that how he felt? Like he wasn't valued? That wasn't what he was trying to say at all! It was adoration! Not condescension.

"What...?" Angel breathed.

"Forget it. Just, I'm sorry-"

"No! No, don't apologize," Angel interrupted, choosing his next words carefully, "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. It wasn't what I meant to say. I wasn't tryin' to say you were weak or small. I was... I was trying to tells you that I adore ya. You do so much for me and our friends. You look out for us, and protect us, and listen to our bullshit problems all the time.

"I think so highly of you, Husk. You don't take shit from no one, not even me. You're unafraid to speak your mind. You know how to keep your head when life gets messy. I got nothing but respect for you. That's why I wanted to do all this. That's why I want to pamper you with love and shit. Because you're always so strong, and I wanted to... I don't know... give you the space where you didn't have to be strong. Not with me."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Husk couldn't find the words even if he tried. He had never heard such meaningful things spoken about him. Him, the grouchy barfly. How could he possibly come back from such a beautiful declaration? Especially now with how foolish he felt. It had never occurred to him that accepting affection was an act of good, and not an admission of weakness. That someone could be trusted to hold him in their hands and lift him up rather than drag him down.

Angel could never be Alastor. This was not a hostage situation.

This was a security.

One that he felt that he needed in this moment more than ever.

"Fuck... I'm sorry. I messed up everything and spoiled the mood. I'm still not very good at this whole intimacy stuff," Husk sighed.

"I know, and it's okay. I can teach you," Angel cupped his hand around Husk's cheek.

Husk leaned into the touch. "And uh... thanks. For what you said."

"I meant it."

What did Husk do on Earth to deserve such an Angel?

"Look, if uh. Ahem. If you still wanted to... to do what you were doing before... you know, I won't fight you," Husk stammered, falling quieter with each word.

If that's the only means of permission that Angel can get right now, then he'll take it. He gently eased Husk onto his back once more.

"Good. 'Cause I still have lots more love to give you, sweetcheeks." Angel's iconic smile returned.

Even though Husk basically just admitted he wanted Angel to keep going, his praises were beginning to fluster him. The corners of his lips started to rise, and the only defense he had against them was to turn his face away from the man in front of him.

"You like it when I talk to you like that, huh, baby? Do you hear in my voice how much I'm crazy about you? How I'd do anything for ya? Cause I would~. There's nothing that you don't deserve," Angel said, scratching oh so lightly beneath Husk's chin.

Husk squeezed his eyes shut as he surrendered to his smile and tried to crush Angel's hand with his neck.

"It's true~. Because you're just the cutest little thing alive! Er, unalive, so to speak," the spider said, feeling encouraged by this reaction, and bringing another hand to scritch in the middle of his side.

Before he could stop it, a giggle escaped from Husk's mouth. Mortified, he then clamped his jaw shut, holding any more upcoming laughs in.

"You don't have to pretend for me, baby. It's just us here," said Angel, now bringing all three sets of arms into the mix. One pair was tracing his sides, another scritching either sides of his neck, and the last drumming their fingers torturously over his belly.

The giggles rose back up again, and this time shutting his mouth wasn't keeping them at bay. If he weren't so stubborn, he might've given in by now. But it was just too embarrassing.

Husk clapped his paws over his mouth, and while it did (partially) succeed in quieting his laughter, it didn't do anything to remedy the tickly sensations now all over his torso. He twitched and quivered under the touch, but with Angel hovering over him, it didn't leave much room for reprieve.

"This looks like it really tickles. I'm sure you'd feel better if you let all those laugh out!" Angel encouraged, "Pleeeeeease? For me? For yourself?"

Still, he didn't budge.

"Okay. I didn't wanna have to do this, but you've left me with no otha' options." Angel took one hand that was scratching his chin and took both of Husk's paws in it, holding them above the cat's head.

The effect was gradual.

At first, you couldn't hear a peep. Then, over a matter of seconds, Husk's giggles began to bubble up once more, fighting their way to the surface, and tickling him from the inside out.

It was over. Before long, there was nothing between the loving attacker and the melodic sound he adored so much. It started out deeper and huskier, much like his normal speaking voice, but with each passing moment, it grew higher in pitch; the kind of laugh he reserved only for his softer moments with Angel.

The spider took this as a sign to continue and deepened the pressure of all of his appendages, digging into the jittery muscles.

Husk couldn't even recognize himself anymore. He sounded nothing like the bitter old drunk he normally was. In its place, was a goofy little lovesick fool who laughed like no one in the world could hear him. He guffawed and chortled and cackled with reckless abandon.

"There it itihis! There's that gorgeous laughter!" Said Angel. "For a moment there, I thought you was bout to explode!"

The compliment somehow made everything worse. The helplessness of the situation was still there, the feeling of being small, but it was... different. Like he was small enough to be held in someone's palm and protected from all harm. It felt safe.

Husk's cheeks began to burn red.

Hopefully, Angel would be too distracted to notice.

"Aw baaabe! Are you blushin'?!"

Fuck.

As if on cue, his cheeks burned brighter.

"Am I making you feel flustered~? Does it make it tickle more?"

"WOHOHOULD YOU SHUHUT UHUHUP?!"

"So it does. Hmm," Angel hummed as he started moving his hands faster and faster up and down his body. Up his sides, then down his sides, up his tummy, then down his tummy.

It was maddening.

It was tortuous.

It was wonderful.

If Heaven didn't feel like this, he didn't want it. If salvation didn't give him the same amount of relief and safety and joy that playing with his lover gave, then it wasn't worth it. He'd stay in this inferno of hell forever if it meant he could stay with Angel. Stay in this moment.

The demon in question kept on with his teases.

"Who's the cutest little thing~?" Angel cooed as he noticed Husk jump when he touched the lowest portion of his belly, "Ohoho, looks like someone's ticklish! Coochie coochie coooo~!"

Just when Husk thought he couldn't laugh any harder, he did.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA YOU FUHUHUCKING PRIHIHICK HAHAHA!" Husk snorted.

"Oho my gosh! You sound just like Fat Nuggets!" Angel chortled.

Husk's laughter was beginning to go silent, and started getting wheezier. This, Angel knew, meant it was time to stop.

"Alright, doll, I think you've had enough," Angel said as he released his prisoner.

As the spider removed his hands from his body, Husk started panting and giggling hysterically, still feeling the phantom sensations on his skin.

"Need some help there?" Angel offered, moving his hands back towards the other's belly.

Husk curled away from his hands, "Dohohon't!"

"I'm not gonna tickle ya, I swear! I'm just gonna get the leftover tickles to go away. Okay?"

Husk nodded hesitantly and revealed his stomach to him.

Angel's hands met his fur, and although it did jump at first, the firm pressure and massaging motions rubbed away the remaining tickles, just like he said it would.

"Dahamn. That really works." Husk breathed.

"Right? Now do you feel better?"

"Yeah," Husk sat up as Angel gave him room, "You know, for such a compliant gentleman, you sure do know how to take charge."

Angel swiveled to Husk with his mouth agape. "I can be a boss when I wanna be!"

"Heh. Sure, power bottom."

Angel reached for Husk's right foot (or paw) and skittered one set of fingers over it.

"NonononONONOHOHO! I'M SORRY, I TAKE IT BACK! I tahahake it bahahack! Hehehehe!"

"Uh huh. That's what I thought," Angel stopped and huffed with a wink, nothing but kind love behind his eyes, "So. You ready for bed?"

"After all that laughing? Hell yes I am. I might even sleep through tomorrow." Husk said tiredly.

Angel chuckled, sidling up behind Husk and gently cacooning his arms around him again.

"This okay?"

Husk sighed.

"It's perfect."

-------

Wooh! That was a rollercoaster! 😅 Hope the people that wanted lee!husk enjoyed this fic 🫶

#tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickles #lee!husk #ler!angeldust #huskerdust tickles

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

Keeping It Close To The Chest Pt 1

Edited 12/25/23 ~~ Here's Part Two ~~

Part Three Part Four

I devoured the Damian Wayne and Danny Fenton are Twins tags and had to make something of my own to add. This is my first fanfic I've decided to post. I'm much more familiar with the DP side of things but I gave it my best shot. Hope this brings joy anyway. If I decide to post this on A03 I will have it beta'd since I made this in like four parts and then wove them together so the flow may not always be there whoopps.. but for now I just wanted to share this with all you!

TW/CW: Medical experimentation and trauma, parental abuse/neglect, wound description, blood-ectoplasm and human, death (it's danny, he's the culprit lol will apply to Jason too if I add to this), body horror (to be safe), PTSD and flashbacks, childhood trauma and abuse, dehumanization

If I missed a tag/warning please let me know! I've never been an extensive tagger so i tried real hard to get everything, but I am human and could've missed something. Much love, stay safe.

~Ren

He had to keep moving. He could still hear their screams of rage ringing in his ears. Faster, he had to be faster. His blind panic had created an opportunity, a sliver of hope Danyal was determined to twist to his advantage. He was limping forward on uncertain legs. His vision swayed with the movement, and he fought to keep upright. His chest was on fire, Danny pressed his hands tightly to the wound there in a desperate attempt to keep his organs from spilling out like confetti. He kept his arms tucked close and rounded his shoulders to try and keep his torso still while he moved quickly through the empty streets of his once home. His chest was by far injured the worst, but he had paid no mind to the others. If he dared to stop, he would fully die.

Even in his human form, Danny just knows he's leaving a glowing blood trail behind him, the ectoplasm burning into the ground behind him. Whatever side of his transformation his body was currently showing it didn't matter, he was simultaneously both, always. The trail was evidence he transformed due to necessity, he became so durable after dying that it took a lot to hurt him. Danny risked a glance down and paled further. The green he spilled as Phantom mixed with red. A fucked up corrosive bread trail right to him. He was sure he truly was in deep shit. He just had to get to his go bag. Over time with his parent's inventions getting more dangerous the more Danny had to think about putting into motion The Great Escape.

Anything important he had always kept hidden, but Danny had taken everything out of his room once he had died the second time, and Danny was grateful for the convenience to be able to phase things into walls, floors, ceilings. It made his things pretty secure; no human could find it and any ghost that came through was too focused on their obsession or fighting him to go on a treasure hunt for his hidden things.

Danny's willful ignorance of his body as he stumbles farther from FentonWorks doesn’t stop the slight burn of his ectoplasm against the edges of his wounds and the tatters of his hazmat suit pulling on the scabbing blood or the smell. Ancients the smell. It’s rancid, he hasn’t been able to cycle it properly without his normal supply of fresh ectoplasm from the Zone. Only provided in small bursts when his parents wanted to see how his body healed with and without ectoplasm. He can feel the whispers of his terror, anger, grief that’s flowing through his blood.

He had been overconfident way back when he had threatened Vlad with exposing his secret. He had thought they'd love him despite having kept his halfa status from them, he hadn't been prepared for the distrust, the hatred, the way they moved farther and farther from thought out experiments to revenge. Danny knows Maddie and Jack still see him as the quiet, shaken child so desperate to be good, craving acceptance by the eccentric family that took him in when they look at him. If Danny had to guess they had been so blinded in their rage to even realized it was their machine, their failure that made him this way. Now they really did want him dead.

He’s whole somehow, despite their best effort, he just needs time. Ancients, He’s not exactly the monster they pictured, but He's not human... He’s whole.

The thought tastes bitter and Danny strangles it before it can expand. He must be focused. Taking a measured breath Danny turns down a familiar alley, he goes intangible with a slight twinge in his core, slipping into the bathroom of Nasty Burger. He’s done this so many times the familiar path brings comfort, reassurance. Like maybe things will start to turn for the better. Making his way over to the stall Danny debated whether it was worth climbing the toilet or floating up there. No, it was better to grit his teeth and bare it. There were only three containers of ectoplasm in his bag, he needed to preserve what strength he had. He would soon have no way to access the Zone for a refill.

Danny took one hand and placed it on the wall before careful stepping up. Lifting his leg had sent waves of pain across his nerves but with a grunt he leveraged himself up. His vision went black at the edges, he was dizzy, and bile clawed at the back of his throat. Danny took a few breaths, while he might not need to breathe, he’s been human longer than not, and well.. he’s only half ghost so the habit carried over to when he's Phantom. Danny was immensely grateful for his time in the League, the training was brutal, he still has nightmares about dying the first time but.. he did learn how to survive in situations that if he was truly a Fenton, would've killed him many times over. As Danny was Danyal Al Ghul Fenton, he always had back up plans. His Mother had been heavy handed with those lessons.

It was painful to think about Talia. She had been Grandfather’s favored child and the weight of his expectations of his grandsons was enforced by her. Lessons or punishment, very rarely praise was given to Danny by his Mother's hand. Each milestone was meticulously observed and reported back, doubly so for their failures. Tiny bodies with too big of weapons, green and blue eyes, a face mirroring his own but twisted in determination, competition. His older brother, his twin. They were inseparable, until they weren't.

Danny's core throbs in his chest, he wanted to shy away from the thought, yet the inconsolable part of him screams at the injustice of being the only one to escape their Grandfather. If only Danny could've proven himself, perhaps his brother would've had a chance to leave in his stead, but Danny knows just how much he was lacking in comparison to his brother, and it was their skill, or lack thereof in Danny's case, that sealed their fates. Danny was able to avoid Ra's overseeing eyes when they moved off the failure of a Spare and homed in on his true Heir. The grandson who took to their lessons like a duck in water. Deathly beautiful, Danny used to think as he watched his brother dance and fly through his training. Talia couldn't defy Ra's orders but if she just.. misplaced.. the Spare that was abandoned, well, no one has come for him yet.

Danny knows she loved him, somewhere hidden, deep inside his Grandfather's perfect pet assassin. She loved him enough to send him away when it became clear Ra’s saw no need in the Spare that was no longer needed, she had loved him when she had beaten him and left mortal wounds-their only chance to fool Grandfather, she loved him when she had given him his packed bag and left him outside that orphanage in Chicago with lazarus water raging in his veins, and she loved him when she told him to forget.

Forget about the League her and his brother, his family.

With brief tight squeeze to his small shoulder her she told him if he was in danger to find Bruce Wayne and then Talia Al Ghul was gone and Danyal-just Danyal now- was left truly on his own for the first time ever.

Danny was definitely in danger now; his situation was grave and despite everything the pun brought a small smile to his face. He couldn’t go back home to the Fenton's. He tries to forget how he froze in his surprise when he realized his parents didn’t take his reveal as Phantom as well as they had let on. They had smiled and stalled until they had found a way to contain him. By then it was too late, he had gotten too complacent in his run on a normal life.

Only after Ancients knows how long he had been resisting, pleading, screaming-I’m still Danny, it hurts mom please, I’m still me, Dad I’m alive- did Maddie find his core. Too tired to move it away from her gaze any longer and when her fingers brushed it the wave of mind-numbing terror exploded out of him. Something must've been on her gloves because his core burned. It ripped a wail from his throat while he writhed on the table. Ice responded like it never was taken from him by the anti-ghost restraints.

Danny could still distantly feel the ghostly ice that had trapped them in place and shattered his restraints under the pressure the frozen water bursting into existence. Even trapped in his ghost ice they were steadily working on getting out and would be on the hunt for him again soon. He wouldn't allow them to catch him again.

The mere idea they’d be on their way already spurred Danny back into action. Slipping his hand into the wall he grabbed the strap and pulled his bag out, careful to keep it weightless, and slid off the toilet and back down to the floor. He hasn't seen his dagger in months, it hurt too much to practice without Dami, his other half. Here it is though, innocently tied to his bag and his gaze traced it lovingly, before searching inside the biggest pocket for his first aid kit. He didn't have time for stiches, so he reaches for the butterfly bandages and starts to pull the skin together before securing it. It's really the first proper look he gets, it's... unsettling at the very least, horrifying, to see a wound reserved for autopsies on his chest.

The Y incision is inflamed and still bleeding so he carefully follows its path until he's done. Grabbing gauze, he starts to reinforce pad, wrapping a roll of bandages around to hold everything in place. Danny bites his lip and thinks for a moment, he will need stitches, he's been wounded enough in this half-life to know that. The likelihood for his work to stay in place while he flies is less than he'd like. Making a decision and with a mental shrug he takes an ectoshot from the smaller pocket and stabbed it into his thigh before pressing the depressor. Pure energy zapped through his system hard, angerly surges to settle in his chest. Feeling a bit better but more.. wired Danny takes a second to calm. Steeling himself he tries to nudge his core, it responds in a weak pulse.

Danny's body protests, he can feel his muscles shred and reform, his bones twist like taffy, his organs melt together before settling to form his ectobody. It's all over in a flash of bright light, yet the pain felt endless. Overwhelming in its intensity but gone just as quickly as it came leaving Danny sweaty and panting. Transforming injured was tricky, he had to carefully picture where the bandages were, so he didn't lose all his hard work.

Confusion settled as a fog, clinging to his thoughts, making them murky. His hands were covered in blood, his body hurt, and he couldn't quite remember why, there was a siren coming closer. Everything in him screamed to run, to escape, but his hunters were too close now, freed from his ice to kill him fully. On instinct Danny's nails grew to claws, ripping into space to create a portal. He was weak, always had been, but he was good at running, hiding away in the shadows. Ghost was once a name of his, a proud title, not just what he is now.

Just as the doors burst open in a teal and orange blur Danny dove into the swirling green and hoped Clockwork was watching so at least someone knew things had exploded here in Amity. He hasn't needed to be on his own like this since after Jazz first saw him and demanded that her parents bring Danny home with them. He misses her now as the path out of Nasty Burger closes behind him. Danny's falling, dropping towards the ground too fast for eyes to track but his impact had definitely shaken the room. With a pained whine and a flash Danny was back to being human again, his landing had pulled at whatever scab was able to form in the twentyish minutes it took him to drag himself away from the basement. Danny was going to be sick, the sticky cool liquid that had his clothes clinging to him, was going to be very alarming when he finally could give himself a proper once over. He could feel the new bruises as he tried to roll off the pallets he had crushed.

"Oh! Someone decided to drop by! " A man called out with glee as he sauntered in his direction. "Shall we see who our special guest is?" Danny could feel the rotten soul as he got closer. Too close. Forgoing moving Danny tensed in anticipation. He was hurt, yes, but he would go down fighting. He could do that much to make his brother proud, even if he never realized Danny lived to 15 not 5. Before he could uncurl to swing at the man there was the soft sound of fabric rustling and a blade being drawn. Curling tighter Danny hoped he had enough juice to go intangible.

"You will not reach your goal Joker; Do you not get sick of trying?" The voice was smooth, deeper than he remembered but it's been 10 years, it's understandable that puberty changed his brother's voice. Danny would recognize it anywhere. Danny jinxed himself, somehow. How he ended up in the same room as the brother he hadn't seen in a decade, Danny wasn't sure. He was terrified though. Where Damian was the League and their Grandfather wasn't far behind. Damian had carefully hidden away his care as a child but would shower Danny in it in the darkness of their room. After years apart and Grandfather's continued influence Danny was uncertain how much of Damian truly remained.

There was a burst of noise, of movement and a struggle then silence covered the room. Danny's hands were shaking. "Nightwing, first aid is required inside, bring the kit." His brother paused, "No, a civilian, a metahuman if his unusually colored blood is to be taken into account."

Danny could feel his brother's scrutiny, his gaze held weight as it scanned over his collapsed form, he tried to curl more but a hand brushing his shoulder had Danny screaming and scrambling away.

Damian's hands twitched at his side, an aborted motion to draw his sword. He seemed to pause then they flew up empty, placating- it didn't bring Danny any comfort.

An assassin's greatest tool was always their hands. Green eyes tracked him, narrowing at the way Danny was shrinking into the shadows. Dread swam down his spine to settle hard in his gut. Of all the ways to meet his brother again, it had to be when he was dying, for a third time. Danny reached blindly for whatever was next to him to pull himself up, his knees wobbled precariously but he would be standing for this. He had to be. Black spots were now in his vision, but he forced a smirk onto his face. Danny was sure he was a sight to see, torn clothes, skin riddled with bruises, green and red blood splattered all over like a kindergartener's messy painting of Christmas, limp dirty hair.

Danny knows Damian is assessing him, taking in what he can see in front of him to efficiently deal with it as they were trained to do. potential strengths and weaknesses. Behind both the domino mask and his calm exterior Damian is taking in a snapshot. Danny wonders what he sees, if his brother recognizes the boy he’s grown into, Danny’s core thrums wildly and he tries not to fidget. The slight frown that pulls at Damian’s mouth means he caught the aborted motion.

"Damn, green, yellow and red... You look like a traffic light!" He gets one giggle in before he chokes on it. Danny can't breathe. His brother had gone deathly still when Danny spoke. He could see the war of emotions fighting through his brother, suspicion was quickly doused with rage. "How dare she." The Arabic was an unexpected comfort, but Danny felt confusion at the words. He's severely out of practice, he thought he understood but doubt settled in. He wasn't sure.

Damian had always stood firm next to him in the League, calm, driven and decisive, the perfect heir for their Grandfather. He was always warm to Danny though, would allow traces of his true feelings to be visible when Damian would inevitably catch Danny sneaking out of his bed to stargaze. Danny would get scolded, every time. Grandfather would punish him harshly for such indulgences, he knew it. Attachments were weaknesses and Grandfather would not grow weakness in the League, in his heirs. Danny may be weak and the Spare but he was smart. He knows what the looks of distaste meant from his Grandfather. He knew how his failures would catch up to him and how Grandfather disapproved of his influence on Damian. Yet Danny kept going back, hiding in the shadows to gaze at the stars and wait for his brother to come find him.

Danny had braced for Damian to be mad when he realizes Danny didn’t truly die that day and has stayed away from his brother, but Danny couldn’t have expected this.

Pure hatred lights up in Damian’s eyes when he finally realizes what is in front of him. It's Danny’s undoing. Everything else that has happened seemed like a cakewalk compared to being rejected by the person who had always understood him most. Ghosts are the manifestation of their emotions. Frostbite had explained once how injuries can manifest in a ghost's form on their own. Emotional pain could make them unravel down to their cores, until even that disappeared.

For Danny, there was uncertainty, halfas were so rare that there wasn’t much off hand knowledge, but Danny has always known from the second he died. There was no separation between his human and ghost halves. He just was. What fancy wrapping he showed off hardly mattered. Things bleed so easily between them, Danny Fenton and Phantom.

"I'll kill her painfully for this, but you abomination it will be swift." Damian has balanced on his toes, ready for a quick burst of speed. His sword now clenched so tightly in his hands it almost shakes.

An abomination the words looped through Danny's mind. The wounded sob that came forth when he opened his mouth to reply was unexpected. Danny took halting steps back from his twin. The hitching breath brought his attention back to his chest. This wasn't how Danny had pictured this moment, all those years of stolen daydreams. His core felt wrong in his chest. He felt cold, cold and brittle but his chest was on fire-and wet. The surgical cut seeping like its minutes fresh, this was by far Danny’s worst idea, to believe to ever hope, his brother would ever keep a monster by his side Danny was a fool to hope even for a moment-hands hands reaching for him to bring him back, grabbing his arm-

“No! I don't know! No please” Danny gasps as he flails weakly “I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

Damian hesitates again, before his resolve firms, "Danyal-" His name cracks over his brother's tongue. Danny isn't aware enough to unpack the way his brother's face twists in heartbreak the longer he watches Danny bleed. A warm body comes up behind him, blocking him in, he’s crying now, a weakness that he never could smother. "No!" Danny avoids his gaze scrambling to grip onto whatever fabric is in his hands. Danny wants the moment to last but he knows what’s coming. Damian won’t protect him now. His older brother had been steadfast by his side in their childhood, but now… now maybe it was better he’s bleeding out.

Danny vaguely registered the man behind him cutting off his shirt, kit at the ready besides him. Pressure on his wound forces a long high whine from his throat. He wants to shove it away, his hand swatting at it but he missed, and it thuds uselessly on the ground. He doesn't have the energy to try again.

The shock of a hot hand against his face brings everything into abrupt focus. Danny flinches but can’t move, the body unyielding behind him. He sees the room is covered in his frost and ice. Batman and Red Robin are farther back, their feet trapped in the ghostly ice, they had things in hand to try and hack away at the ice trapping them in place.

“Danyal” The pain in his twin's voice has him turning in that direction; his brother was there. For how well they could read each other in childhood Danny had no clue what his brother was thinking now. His twice dead brother, back to only die again at his feet. “Are you destabilizing? Why were you sent here? What does Mother want?”

“What?” Danny can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, even if it hurts, it seems his ice kept his organs in place while he tumbled through his hastily made portal. He must've lost consciousness at some point though; his ice seems to have melted to leaving him fully exposed. “That bitch- She has nothing to do with this- wait. You think-” Danny laughs even harder until he can’t breathe and he’s hacking and spitting up more ectoplasm. He’s pulled more fully against the warm body behind him, his head lulls-oh it’s Nightwing, the blatant concern radiating from the man stings Danny’s eyes and a few tears scatter down his face.

“I’m not a clone Dami, I didn’t even know you weren’t with the League anymore." Danny's speech slurs more the harder he tries to piece sentences together, "I'm sorry I don't know how I ended up here.” Danny is growing quieter the longer he talks- can feel his life draining onto the floor and there’s panic in the air now, Batman had sprung up next to Damian's side. Seemed to say something to Damian before he retreated slightly. Batman was hovering ready to interfere but unsure in what actions needed to take place.

Damian is staring at him intently, looking to match his scars to the one's he remembers. He taps his fingers insistently on Danny's cheek and Danny doesn't fight looking back at him. The fingers linger against the scar hidden behind his hair next to his ear, traces the edges. Damian was the one to give it to him, a training error. He had looked at Danny similarly to how he was now. Fear, regret, panic. Words are being said, they blend together, warp, so Danny just hums in response. Everything is more distant now. Danny's own fear floating out of reach. He knows death intimately, he's not afraid to greet her a third time.

The words became frantic as he struggles to stay awake, and someone was talking again. “-ood to see you though- no tss okay no pain.. mma be cold soon-" Oh. That's Danny. The face he has ached to see for years fills his vision. The shade of green he could never replace. Danny was picked up and hustled out a door into the by Nightwing while a harsh discussion flew over his head. They were in some sort of vehicle now, the door shutting causes silence to blanket the group. His head is in Damian's lap, and it takes a second, but Danny realizes Damian is carting his fingers through his greasy hair. His other hand was holding Danny's, playing with his fingers like he did as children. Danny's vision fills with tears and spills down his face.

"Danyal? Can you hear me?" Damian calls his attention softly, his sweet, sweet brother tries to keep the concern out of his voice, off his face. Once he sees Danny focus on him a trembling smile makes its home on Damian's face. His domino mask is gone, Danny drinks in the unobscured view of his brother. "We'll be back to the Cave shortly, Alfred will attend to you, then you're going to tell me exactly how this happened so I can make sure it never does again." Danny can tell Damian is scared, the minute tremble in his petting only confirmed it. Danny let a smile tug at his lips too, "It's gonna be okay Dami" Danny slurred, he hears Damian insisting they were almost home.

Home with Damian. That was a fool's dream, just out of reach. Danny never indulged in the idea; he wouldn't put Dami in danger by reappearing. But- Danny was with him now, a twitch of his fingers against Damian's proves it. Danny went limp as the Batmobile skidded into the Cave, Damian was a silent statue watching Alfred take his brother away from him. Batman saddled up next to him- Damian should shower and change, whatever it was that changed his brother was making his skin itch- but he couldn't move. His baby brother was in there, dying, again.

"Damian, chum... what was all that?" Damian ignores his eyes itching as tears built, he clears his throat to report- reporting was vital with their nighttime activities, Father needed information to help Danny. He couldn't take his eyes of the little glowing red 'In Use' sign above the surgery door though.

Damian cuts a glance at the man next to him, more Bat than Father at the moment. "Once Danyal is stable, I will give you an explanation Father."

~~~~

I thought of a name, added it to the tags, I'll add a link to the next post if I write one, will tag future posts with 'Keeping It Close To The Chest' as well

much love

~Ren

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #danny and damian are twins #danny phantom #danny fenton #damian wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #human experimentation #Scientific experimentation #vivisection #Danny whump #clones #nightwing #red robin #batman #alfred pennyworth #batfam #batfamily #batpham #on the run #injuries #ras al ghul #the league of assassins #talia al ghul #the joker #he's there briefly lol #like one second

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 16 | YOUR SWORD AND SHIELD

PAIRING: lee minho x reader

GENRE: spy au

WC: 1.14k

CW: blood and injury, reader is shot, brief crossfire (nothing is too graphic but its there)

PROMPT: "this is going to hurt like a bitch but i have to stitch up that wound"

soft minho hours! well, kinda lol (you'll see what i mean haha). he fits the spy au so much, i'm honestly happy i have one more spy au with him to do, because spy!minho is my new favourite thing. anyway, second post of the day, enjoy <3

title from meet me on the battlefield - svrcina

general masterlist here

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"Fuck!” Minho yelled, ducking back behind the wall. He gripped his gun tighter, pressing as much of his body into the wall as he could. He looked to the side, where you were in a very similar position. He immediately noticed the grimace on your face. “Are you hurt?” he whispered, looking at your hand that was pressing on your other arm unusually strongly.

You swallowed a curse and shook your head. Minho shrugged and didn't question it further, deciding to check how many bullets he had left.

Once he turned his head away, you let out something between a sigh and a moan. Your arm was on fire, and Minho couldn't know. He would worry too much, and you wouldn't complete your mission. You had to just suck it up and not let him know you were injured. Which was easier said than done when there was a bullet in your upper arm, but you would manage. You had worse injuries. After making sure Minho was busy, you checked your bullets too, hoping you didn't smear too much blood over the gun.

Next to you, Minho stood up again, firing back at your opponents. You joined him, and after a successful hit that incapacitated two of their shooters, you saw a chance to run. And Minho did too. He looked around for any snipers, but it seemed nobody was there. “Let's go before they start again,” he said, grabbing your arm and dragging you away, retreating to an empty office building nearby. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to not cry out in pain because his hand wrapped around your arm exactly in the place where the bullet was. You couldn’t hold a pain hiss, but you convinced Minho that he just grabbed you too strongly. He loosened his grip but kept his hold on you. You knew he just wanted to make sure you were with him and that he hadn't lost you when you were running, but your anxiety worsened with every second. You prayed to everyone who would listen to not let him discover the wound.

Once you were inside, he let go of you, and you sighed in relief, both at the pressure being gone and at being safe. Or, as safe as an agent hiding from their enemies can be. Minho eventually turned on his flashlight as he led you further into the building to the basement. It wasn't accidental that he chose this specific building. One of the many tunnels had an entrance in the boiler room. You stayed close to Minho, covering him from behind, your uninjured hand ready to pull out your gun at any moment.

Inside the boiler room, Minho locked the door behind you, letting his guard down a little. He hid his flashlight and turned on the light in the room. And then he froze, looking at his hand. You looked over to see what happened, and your whole body tensed. On his palm, there was a smear of red. Minho turned his head toward you.

“They got you, didn't they?” he asked, phrasing it more as a statement than a question. You knew there was no point in denying it now, not when there was clear evidence all over his hands.

You nodded. “In the crossfire. I didn't duck fast enough,” you murmured. “But it's fine, it's not even bleeding that-”

“Sit.” Minho pointed to an iron table pushed next to the wall. The room was old and no longer in use, so the agents brought in several things, such as medical equipment, weapons, spare gear, and all other sorts of things, using it as storage for everything they might need when using the tunnels. You rolled your eyes; you were perfectly fine to make it back to the base, where you could get proper medical care. But you knew that arguing with Minho was pointless, so you hopped on the table, waiting for him to find what he needed.

As your center of gravity moved, though, your head spinned. Oh. Maybe the wound was worse than it seemed. Minho came back soon, setting a few bandages and a bottle of alcohol next to you. He carefully took off your jacket, exposing your arm. Blood was smeared everywhere, drying with sweat mixed into it. Out of the darker spot, fresh blood was coming out, but there was less of it than before. Minho took a good look at it, cursing under his breath. He was running high on adrenaline and worry, but he still touched you with the utmost gentleness, being very careful with your arm.

“I need to get that out,” he decided. “It will hurt like a bitch, but I can't have you bleeding out on the way back to the base.” You knew he was right, though you were pretty sure you wouldn't bleed out. Either way, more blood loss only meant more complications. Minho reached for the bottle of alcohol, pouring a bit of it on the surgical forceps he found in the medical supplies kept in here. “I'm sorry,” he said, and then, without a warning, he poured at least half of the bottle onto your arm. Unprepared, you cried out, immediately covering your mouth with your other hand. You were safely locked in here, but the other agents could be scouting the building, and you couldn't let them discover the tunnels. Biting on your fist to keep yourself from making any sounds, you let Minho carefully take out the bullet stuck in your arm. He was as gentle as he could, but it still hurt. Closing your eyes, you let him work, focusing on your breathing to keep yourself occupied.

“It's done,” Minho announced after a while, finishing wrapping a bandage around your arm. He wiped his hands on his trousers, then looked at you, cupping your cheek with his hand to swipe his thumb over the single tear falling down your cheek. You let your head fall forward on his shoulder. Minho let you stay like that for a moment, but then he helped you back down on your feet. You still had a long way to the base, and you weren’t safe here. 

You found it sweet, the way he worried about you. It was sometimes dangerous out in the field because Minho would drop everything the moment you were in life-threatening danger, but it also made you stronger as a team because you knew you could trust him with your life.

He pressed a quick kiss on your temple. “You'll be okay. Let's get you back to the base where Seungmin can take care of you properly,” he said, placing one hand on the small of your back to support you, ready to catch you if you fell. Together, you made your way towards the entrance to the tunnels.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee know

[firsttimewriter92]

Heyo! I’ve requested this to a couple different writers just to see the way it differs and so far Im still waiting for them to respond, which is fine, but I was hoping I could at least request it to you as well :)

I have ADHD and other mental conditions and stuff and was wondering, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, that you could do the 141 + Konig where the reader (female) had ADHD and was super energetic and talkative the entire day and the boys were just stressed out from the long day or a bad mission and had said something hurtful to the reader, which caused them to either try and suppress their ADHD ticks or just talk less and become less energetic and social.

I’m a sucker for angst cuz I’m sad and lonely lol 🥹. If you could please do this or at least think about it that would be amazing, thanks 🫶🫶

Hello, my love. I LOVED your ask and gave it a shot. I hope you´ll forgive me that I only came up with something for Ghost, Price and König so far. Maybe I´ll do another part with Gaz and Soap.

As I don´t have ADHD or know anyone who does, I really hope I catured what it´s like as best as possible. Please let me know if there´s something wrong. Please enjoy and don´t feel lonely! There´s a whole community for CoD out there who welcome you with open arms! <3

Warnings: angst, panic, yelling, cursing, fluff, hurt/comfort

Words: 3.001

Ghost

You were just putting away the dishes from your dinner when you heard the front door open. Your heart lurched into your throat knowing who just came home. You bolted around the corner and there he was. The hulking figure of your boyfriend Simon. His frame took over most of the space of the short hallway as he moved to take off his jacket. You knew he needed a little time to adjust before he would be able to give you attention so you waited, though still hopping from one excited foot to the other quickly. Grinning wildly and lightly giggling.   

You heard a long sigh coming from Simon and your heart sank a little. It must have been a draining mission. He lifted his head and his dark eyes looked at you wearily. You stopped hopping immediately and a cold, cold shiver ran over your back. You saw the haunted look in your boyfriends eyes and you didn’t know how to help him best right now. Then, to really spike your panic, you saw Simon shake his head and move backwards to the door. “I can´t deal with this tonight” was all he murmured before he turned and left your shared apartment, leaving you standing there with the most horrible feeling in your stomach.

Simon was at a loss. He was sitting in a quiet corner of his favourite Pub, sulking into his pint. The last mission almost cost him every single one of his team members. Johnny was still in hospital. He just couldn’t deal with bubbly, happy or hyper right now. At least that´s what he thought. His fist clenched around the glass when he tried to suppress his self-loathing. Wasn’t your talkative person and happy nature exactly what had enticed him in the first place? What was he doing? Instead of listening to you ramble about your day, about the newest plant you got or how much you enjoyed cooking this new dish, effectively draining all the bad thoughts from his mind, he was sitting alone in a Pub, still thinking about the horrors of the last couple of weeks.

He knew all you´d wanted to do a couple of hours ago was envelop him into your arms and making him feel home. A huge gash opened in his chest. Growling at himself he stood and left the Pub. He had to see you right now.

In your apartment you sat on the couch, trying to read one of your favourite books and not feel rejected by the one you loved. You really tried to understand why he left. Why he left you with these words hanging in the air. Where you really too much? You were just excited. Was that too much as well? You felt your eyes sting. The front door opened and your heart plummeted into your stomach.

He needed space, so you stayed seated and decided you wouldn’t bother him with your presence until he really wanted it. At the door, Simon waited for your hurried footsteps, craving your hug more than anything. But nothing came. No footsteps, no happy squeal, nothing. He knew he´d fucked up big time then.

As he walked into the living room and saw you sitting on the couch, his heart squeezed painfully when you wouldn’t look at him. He heard you sniffle and immediately went over to you. “I´m sorry, dove. I´m so, so sorry” he whispered when he sat down and immediately pulled your whimpering form onto his lap. You held onto his shirt and marvelled in his scent and warm, firm chest. Simon buried his head into your hair and still continued to apologise. “I stepped over the line when I said what I said, my love. I can deal with it! I need your bubbly self, especially now. I´m so sorry.” His big arms caged you in and slowly you came down. Warmth and love melted into your veins again as you spoke.

“If you need more space from me when you come back, just let me know before you come home. So I´m not a bother.” You heard a desperate sound crawling up his throat when he repositioned you to look into your eyes. His big hands were framing your face when he said in a choked up voice “No. No, don’t ever hide who you are from me. I´m the one who needs to work on this. You did nothing wrong.” He sighed. “I thought I couldn’t deal with it but the truth is, it made everything much worse. I need your adorable rambling when I come back so I don’t have to think about what happened. It just took me a while to realise and I´m incredibly sorry. I´ll do better, I promise. I love you.” You shook your head and lovingly stroked his face. “Just let me know exactly what you need and I´ll adjust. Just don’t push me away like that. I love you just as much.” He kissed your fingertips, your nose, your forehead and finally your lips. “Never again, love. I promise.” You smiled against his lips and kissed them again.

Cuddling on the couch for several minutes he could feel the words stuck on your tongue just dying to come out. “What is it?” he asked with a grin. You grinned back just as wide. “I bought a new plant” you said with a giggle. Simon sighed happily and nodded his head. “Of course you did” he said lovingly. “Go on then, show me.”

Price

John had been home for about three days now and was still on edge. He really tried not to let it show or not make you worried about him. He still had a lot of paperwork to fill out and visits to the base. You wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible so you decided to really scrub down the flat.

You were really proud of yourself when you finally came to the last room, John´s office. It smelled of leather, John and faint cigar smoke. Smiling fondly you looked at the clean and organised desk. John´s things always had a designated place to be, at least on his desk. Smiling giddily you took a picture frame into your hands. It showed John and you at one of Gaz´s barbeques. John had a beer bottle in hand, red cheeks and smiling so wide, his eyes were completely closed. The picture was made just as you´d jumped onto his back clumsily, almost making him fall. You were perched on his back, your arms thrown around his shoulders. John was leaning forward slightly but already had one hand securely and possessively on your thigh, holding you to him. At this very moment you felt so incredibly lucky to have met him.

John came back later that evening, just as you started preparing dinner. He looked exhausted and a little annoyed as he entered the kitchen and living space, smiling at you shortly and kissing your forehead. You hummed sweetly. “I cleaned the whole apartment today” you said grinning. John raised an eyebrow and looked around. His lips twitched. “You did good, love. Everything´s so orderly.” You knew how much he loved it when the lovely chaos you preferred living in was a little more controlled. You giggled and kissed his cheek. “Get washed up, dinner will be ready soon.” He gave you a grateful smile and nodded, leaving the kitchen.

Several minutes later you heard heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway. Curious you looked at the door just as John walked in. His shoulders were tense and his blue eyes blitzed dangerously and annoyed. “Did you clean my office as well?” he asked quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. You blinked. “Yes, why?” you asked. He shook his head and huffed. “Then I´m sure you can tell me where the bloody hell my work phone is!” You took a short step back when you heard him raise his voice that way. Slight panic settled into your chest. “Uhm” you said and tried to think if you saw his phone. “I´m not sure if…” “You´re not sure? Ok. I´m sure,___. It was on my desk when I left. You know how important that thing is? Where did you put it?” Your head was reeling when you really tried to think if you removed the phone from his desk. “I-I don’t remember” you said breathlessly. John groaned.

“You know, what good is it that you finally clean up your clutter if you remove the things that I actually need?”

Immediately after he closed his mouth he saw you fall into yourself. Your shoulders sagged, your whole face showed panic and bewilderment. Worst of all however was the moment he saw all the light vanish from your eyes. He knew instantly he made a huge mistake. Yes, he was annoyed, but it wasn’t like the phone was gone forever. The both of you just had to find it. When you turned around he knew you didn’t want him to see you like that. He felt terrible. You´d put up with his demeanour for the last couple of days and the first inconvenience made him explode like that. He heard you sniffle.

“___” he said in a small voice, walking over to you. “___, love, I´m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me to say. It´s just a phone. We´ll find it.” He saw you nod but you didn’t turn around. “Baby” he tried again. This time you did turn around and his heart almost gave out. Your eyes were brimming with tears but they looked at him with no emotion at all. Your mouth was a straight line and your jaw was set. “You know I have trouble remembering things. You know that keeping up with one task at the time is basically impossible for me.” He nodded and hung his head. “I know” he said slowly. You huffed. “I´m sorry. I´ll find your phone as soon as dinner is ready.”

John shook his head, walked over and turned off the stove. You looked at him curiously. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the sofa. He urged you to sit down and the moment you did, he knelt on the floor in front of you and touched his forehead to your knees. He breathed you in for several moments before lifting his head. “I really should learn how to prioritise things better. I know how to keep everything orderly and all that but…now it´s not only me and my job. Now it´s also you and me. I sometimes forget about that, my love and I am sorry.”

You looked down at him and felt your anger, embarrassment and shame slowly fade. You nodded weakly. “My sweet girl” he whispered and held you face in his palms. “I really appreciate that you did this. That you put up with me as well. I know I haven’t been very communicative with you.” You lightly shrugged and he shook his head. “You can´t just let me get away with these things, my love. Please. I know it´s hard for you, but you can hold me accountable for what I´m doing or saying.”

“Okey” you said and breathed in deep. “You´re right. What you said was absolutely uncalled for. It hurt and embarrassed me. I´m not proud of the way I let things go sometimes. It takes an immense amount of effort to even come to the point of wanting to organise and clean stuff.” John stroked his thumbs lovingly over your cheeks. “And I´m sorry about your phone, John. I promise, I´ll help you find it.” He sighed deeply and pulled your head towards him. Hesitating for a moment to see your reaction, you smiled at him and leaned down more to kiss him. A relieved breath escaped his nose when he kissed you back right away. You detached from him again and with pure joy he saw the light back in your eyes.

“Let´s have dinner and then we´ll look for your phone, yeah?” you asked. He nodded immediately and helped you stand again. He pulled you close by the waist and peppered your face with little kisses until you giggled and tried to wriggle out of his hold.

“Can I help?” he asked. You nodded and gestured towards the fridge. “Could you please get the meatballs out?” John nodded and opened the fridge. Stunned, he stood in front of it for a bit too long. You looked over to him questioningly. “John? What is it? The meatballs are right there.”

He nodded slowly and then his shoulders started to shake with laughter. “What?” you asked perplexed.

John, still giggling, closed the fridge with the platter of meatballs in one hand and his work phone in the other. Your eyes went round and a blush crept up your neck and up to your cheeks. “Oh, Jesus…”

Both of you started laughing again and John went over to you and held you in his strong arms until you both stopped, short of breath. He leaned his head against yours and very softly said “I love you so much.”

König

Laughing hysterically at one of Soap´s jokes you clutched König´s arm next to you and buried your head in his shoulder. The latest mission was over and the 141 decided to wind down at one of the local pubs. König had asked you to join them and shortly after you walked into the pub and jumped into your lovers arms without hesitation. He lifted you up and swung you from side to side before holding your face gently and kissing you long and hard. The whoops and hollers from Gaz and Johnny were ignored by the two of you. You were just happy to be with each other again.

Your happiness bubbled through every pore in your body, the alcohol in your system making you relaxed and buzzing. You´d bantered with Soap the whole evening. The music and over all volume of the pub forced you to raise your voice once in a while. No one seemed to care though.

With a light kiss to König´s cheek you excused yourself to the bathroom and stumbled over to the little door. König watched your with fond eyes, his heart swelling by the minute. Soaps elbow connecting with his ribs and he gave him a sly wink. “So, when´re you goin´ to ask the lass ta marry your arse?” he asked. König´s face lit up immediately. He grinned shily. “I do have the ring already but…I´m really not sure when I should ask.” Johnny nodded. “Best not wait too long my friend” he said wisely. “Yer not the only one noticin´ her. She surely knows how to present herself.” He winked at König.

König´s eyes had a soft look in them. “Yeah, I know.” He said and sighed deeply. “She´s a LOT!”

Just as he said it, he felt your presence next to him and smiled up at you. Said smile vanished immediately when he saw the hurt on your face. He was a bit bewildered as to why you looked at him like her whole world just collapsed. Without saying anything you turned around and stormed towards the doors. “___!” he yelled and scrambled from his seat in the booth going after you.

Outside he looked left and right quickly and spotted you walking briskly away from the venue to his right. He started running and thanks to his long legs it didn’t take him much time to catch up with you. The moment he reached out for your arm and you whipped around shaking it off, his heart broke into a million pieces. Tears were streaming down your face and deep, deep hurt was still edged onto your features. “Liebling, what-?” “I´m a lot, huh? König, do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? You making fun of me in front of our friends?” You hiccupped and wiped your face with your sleeve.

König´s heart began to hammer in his chest. “Making fun of you? I didn´t. How could I make fun of you?” He started hyperventilating a little when you flinched away from his touch yet again. “What´d I do?” he asked in a panicked voice.  You huffed disbelievingly. “You said I was a lot to handle, König. That´s so…rude. You know I can´t control how loud I am sometimes.” König´s eyes went wide.

“A lot to handle….” He whispered desperately. “No. No, Liebling, that´s not what I meant at all!” You gave him a questioning look. “I´d never say something like that about you.”

“Then what did you mean? König, saying someone is a lot, is quite-“

“A lot of perfect!! You´re…you´re perfect” he almost yelled at you, desperate to bring his point across. “I sometimes don’t really know the words to express what I´m trying to say but, mein Schatz….I´d never willingly hurt you or try to put you down like that.”

A feeling of shame overcame you. Here was this wonderful, soft man just trying to get through the day as best he can. You should´ve considered that English wasn’t his first language.

“König” you said breathily and reached out your hand which he immediately took. “I´m sorry. I should´ve talked to you first but…you know, being a bother or too much….it´s just one of the things that make me very insecure.” König lifted your hand to his lips immediately and you could have cried again by the way he so gently kissed your knuckles.

“You´re not too loud, or too talkative, or too forward. You´re too much…you! Sometimes I don´t know how to tell people that I would literally kill for you. That I would do anything to make you happy!”

Your arms wined themselves around his neck as you pulled him down for a passionate kiss. “I love you, König” you said against his mouth. “I´m sorry I stormed out like that.” He shook his head and brushed his nose with yours. “I love you too, my love. So much.” You grinned and hugged him again, having to stand on your tiptoes to do so. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Will you come back inside? The evening is still young” he asked. You nodded immediately and took his large hand in yours.

König´s heart raced and he knew exactly what to do to erase every single doubt from your mind. As he guided you back to the pub, his other hand that wasn´t holding yours gently thumbed at the locket around his neck, containing the ring he wanted to give you since day one.

_________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know in the comments what you think about this take. A like and reblog is of course always appreciated <3

Love you and stay safe!

#cod men #cod fic #cod x reader #x reader #cod mwii #captain john price #john price #captain price x you #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x you #cod fluff #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #captain price imagine #ADHD fluff #könig x reader #könig cod #cod könig #könig fanfiction #könig call of duty #könig x you #konig fluff #konig x you #konig mw2 #konig fanfiction

[imaginedisish]

Graceland Too (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hi everyone!!! Wowowow am I active this week LOL (fyi this is a re-upload. Decided to proofread one more time bc I uploaded at like 2AM last night). Here is a little sick fic I wrote for my friend who isn’t feeling too great (hope you’re feeling okay <3). The fic is heavily based around “Graceland Too” by Phoebe Bridgers but it is also inspired by “oh baby” by LCD Soundsystem. Highly suggest giving those a listen. Anyway, requests are open. Enjoy!

Summary: You’re terribly sick, but one night and one fever dream might just change everything for you and Din. 

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, Praise kink (imo at least), oral (f!receiving), fingering, reader is sick, Jedi!Reader (it’s like I only know how to write Din x Jedi!readers I stg), idiots/friends to lovers, pining, mentions of death/major violence (canon typical I'd say), cursing, probably some grammar stuff....that’s it I think. 

Word Count: 3,018

The wind is cold as it slices you in half, but you feel overwhelmingly hot, clammy even. Sweat dribbles down your forehead as you tread across the rocks beneath your feet. Blaster shots ring out in the distance.

You struggle to pick up your pace, your boots sticking to the ground as you try to put one foot in front of the other.

“Mando!” You call out, remembering not to use his real name.  Fog covers the ground, filling the air at an excruciatingly quick rate. You’d never be able to find him in this. You call out to him again, but there’s no answer. You’d take a grunt or even a groan at this point.

Then there’s a disembodied, brittle voice coming from behind you.

“Looking for him?” It’s grating, nasally. You’d recognize it anywhere.

You turn around frantically, practically giving yourself whiplash.

“Bo Katan.” Your voice is low, hushed. Din’s body is limp on the ground, being held up on his knees by the woman in front of you. There’s a smirk on her face. She has the darksaber in her hand…

And it’s at Din’s throat.

“Let him go,” You plead. You go to grab your lightsaber, a blaster, something, anything at your utility belt, but there’s nothing there. You have no defense, just your words. “You got what you came for, you have the darksaber.”

She scoffs, shaking her head, her smirk widening. “I haven’t finished the job yet. I still have to kill you and your Mandalorian.”

Your eyes widen with fear, blurring with tears. “No please, please don’t hurt him.” Your voice croaks as you choke back sobs.

“Too late.” She moves the darksaber from his throat, plunging it into his chest with one fatal swoop.

“DIN!” You scream, crashing down to your knees next to him.

“I’m here mesh’la…” He whispers, but it doesn’t sound like he’s next to you, he’s somewhere off in the distance. His husky voice calls out your name.

“I’m right here.” He repeats himself. Your eyes force themselves open as you shove your palms into the bed to push yourself up. You almost hit your head on the top of the bunk in the process, but Din stops you before you can, his cold, gloved hands coming up to your shoulders. “It was just a nightmare.” His voice is honeyed, gentle.

You look to your left to see him standing at your side, armor off, helmet on.

“M’sorry,” You mutter, rubbing your eyes. You feel like absolute shit, worse than yesterday. Your skin is so hot that it threatens to burn a hole in Din’s gloves. You choke down a cough, the sensation vibrating painfully against your already pounding head. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You had been sick for a few days now, and Din was doing everything by himself: the ship’s maintenance, the flying, the hunting, taking care of Grogu, and taking care of you. Now, to make matters worse, you had woken him up. You know he doesn’t get enough rest to begin with. You feel like a burden – and not just in this moment, always. You were a danger to yourself, to Din, to Grogu; a force wielding ex-Jedi, ex-Empire captive wanted by anyone and everyone. And yet, he had let you into his little clan of two with open arms. Now he was here, caring for you. You could’ve gone home, made a place for yourself in the New Republic, continued your Jedi training, but you didn’t.

You met Din. And you felt so, so guilty for the repercussions of your meeting.  

You part your lips, ready to usher him back to bed, to apologize again. But Din doesn’t leave room for you to protest. “Don’t apologize, please.” He shushes you, taking off a glove and pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. You hum lightly under his touch. He feels like ice against your blazingly hot skin.

“Your hand…” You trail off, struggling to speak, “feels good.”

Your hoarse voice sounds like nothing more than a set of incoherent mumblings, but Din seems to understand every syllable. He chuckles shortly and softly, as if the laugh was only meant to be heard by you. “That’s ‘cause you’re warmer now than you were yesterday.” He flips his hand over so that his palm rests against your skin. His forefingers and thumb rub gently at your temples, working tirelessly at your raging headache.

With his free hand, he reaches down for something you can’t quite see. Seconds later he’s holding two pills in front of your face. You immediately take them from him, no questions asked. Whatever it was, you’d take it. This was absolutely unbearable, and the constant fever dreams certainly didn’t help. You swallow the pills with no hesitation, and Din brings a metal cup to your lips.

“Drink,” is all he says, and you do.  You take the cup from his hands, the cold water rushing down your throat, temporarily easing the pain you feel there. Din apprehensively settles his arm on your waist. “This okay?” He asks, a slight shake in his voice. You nod in response, smiling appreciatively.

“Thank you,” You whisper, tilting your head to the side with affection. You swallow harshly, clearing your throat. “You can go back to sleep now if you want. I’ll be okay.”

But Din doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move at all. He ignores your permission to leave completely. “What dream did you have this time?”

You shudder, remembering what you had seen just moments ago. Din instantly takes account of the look on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, stabilizing you, keeping you tethered to reality – to him.

You draw in a deep breath, practically coughing up your lungs in the process. “Bo Katan, s-she,” You stutter, your eyes shutting tightly in between words. You could still see it. It was ingrained in your brain, burnt into the grooves, sowed in between every empty space. You can still feel her. It was so real. “She had the darksaber and she…” But you can’t finish. Your vision is blurry, your surroundings morphing into an amalgamation of streaks of light and grey metallic colors. You blink and a few cool tears drip down your searing cheeks.

“Hey,” Din coos, his helmet inching closer towards your face, his hands still glued around your waist and atop your forehead. “I’ve got you now. It was just a nightmare. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, mesh’la, nothing.”

You cough out a laugh. “Nothing except a red-haired Mandalorian and whatever this fever is.”

But Din shakes his head. “Not if I can help it.” It isn’t until those words fall from his lips that you realize how close he is to you, how intimate this moment is. His armor is long gone, and you can see the outline of his muscles in his shoulders and arms, his deltoids, his triceps, underneath his flight suit.

“I would…” He trails off, a tremble obviously present in his voice. His confidence has completely disappeared. The vulnerability of the moment makes your head spin faster than it already is. You watch his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You hear him suck in a sharp breath through his vocoder. “I would do anything for you.”

Anything. He would do anything? For you?

Your heart beats rapidly, threatening to combust against your ribs as Din’s hand on your forehead slides down to your cheek. You’ve forgotten your fever at this point, forgotten your headache, your sore throat. All you feel now is Din, his thumb grazing against your cheek, his fingers ghosting along the exposed slit of skin between the hemline of your shirt and the waistline of your shorts.

You want to keep him here, to ask him to hang on to you all night long, but you don’t know if you have the courage to ask. You close your eyes, inhaling through your nose, gathering your words before they spill from your lips. “Would you…” Your voice fades out, evaporating into silence, unable to finish your sentence.

“Anything,” Din’s modulated voice echoes against the walls of the bunk. “Say the word and it’s yours. Whatever you want, cyare.”

Fuck. He really means anything. Whatever you want.

“Would you stay…with me?” It’s a garbled, incomprehensible mess of a question, but as always, Din knows what’s on your mind better than you do.

Din nods immediately. “Of course.” It’s short, but certainly not curt. Those two words say far more than what they mean. “I have to let go of you for just a second, but I’ll be right back, I promise.” Ever the caretaker, Din Djarin. Eternally putting others before himself. It makes your heart pang in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.

He hesitates a moment before finally letting go of you, his hands brushing over your skin for a few extra seconds, stealing time that had already been borrowed. He slips deeper into the hull. You hear him press a few buttons in the distance, and then with a sudden flick, the lights of the hull go out. Darkness fills the room, and you can hear Din shuffling back towards the bunk.

There’s a click and a hiss, and then the sound of metal falling onto metal. Din had taken his helmet off. It wasn’t the first time he had done this. You occasionally found yourself in his bunk, clinging to him for warmth when you were on a particularly cold planet or when the Crest’s heating system had broken down, but it was rare.

“Should you keep it on?” You ask as Din pushes the covers of the bed down. You feel the mattress dip as he slides into the bunk. “I’m still sick, you know.” The last thing you wanted was to make Din feel the way you feel right now. You didn’t want him to get hurt. You had to protect him, too.

You don’t realize how close he is to you until you feel his breath fan across your lips. “No.” It’s a whisper, barely audible. “Wanna make you feel safe.”

“But-,”

He cuts you off. “It’s worth the risk.”

You were worth the risk.

The darkness isn’t so scary when he’s next to you. You close your eyes, listening closely to his unmodulated breaths. His arm snakes up your body, coming to rest around your waist, in the exact spot he was in before.

“Din?” You call out in the darkness. You inch forward a bit, unexpectedly bumping your nose into his. The sudden touch, the proximity, it’s all becoming too much for you to bear.

“Yes, cyare?” His voice is husky, low, rough.

You can’t even remember what it was you were going to ask him. All you can think about is how close he is, how his fingers graze over your stomach, how his breath ghosts over your cheeks, how much you want him to kiss you.

Maker, you want him to kiss you. Would he if you asked him to? Was that under the category of, anything?

“Cyare?” He’s concerned. You can hear it in the way the pet name plays on his lips, hanging around in the air longer than normal.

“I-I,” You stutter. Was now really the time to do this, to confess your feelings to Din? “I don’t know what to say.” It was true, maybe a little too true. “I just, I like you Din.”

He chuckles. Maker, it sounds so much better without his helmet. “I like you too, cyar’ika.” He’s unserious, carefree.

“No,” You mumble. You feel like a child, a padawan once again, not knowing how to communicate or to feel. “Not like that. M-more than that.” You wish you could see the look on his face, to gauge what he was feeling.

Silence takes hold of the bunk. Shit. Too much. Too much too soon. I shouldn’t have-

And then, like always, Din reads your mind. His lips come crashing down onto yours. The kiss is reckless, frenzied, deep. He molds against you, as if he was always meant to fit here. You almost regret not doing something sooner. You think, maybe you’ve wasted valuable time that you could’ve already spent with this side of him. But you know you’ve lived through everything you’ve been through, just to get to this very moment, to feel his lips taking yours, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, seeking permission to explore more of you. You part your mouth, gladly accepting his invitation.

His hand at your waist travels lower, resting along the inside of your thigh. You moan against his lips at the touch. You can feel your wetness growing between your legs, the pulsing of your core. You instinctively try to press your thighs together, searching for some sort of friction, but Din stops you, using his hand to keep your legs spread wide for him.

His fingers tread achingly slow up your inner thigh, teasing you, his nails softly scratching against your exposed skin. Din’s hand finally lands on top of your clothed cunt, his thumb tracing circles into the overly sensitive spot. You’re trembling under his touch as he presses harder into where you need him most.

“S-shit,” You mutter. “Feels s-so good.”

Din swallows harshly. “Wanna taste you, mesh’la. Bet you taste so good.” Desire coats his voice. His hand slips away from your heat and you groan at the loss of contact. He finds the waistline of your shorts, tugging a bit, searching for permission.

“Please, wanna feel you,” You whimper. And that’s all he needs. Din drags your shorts and panties down your legs. You’re not sure where they end up, but you can’t be bothered to care.

Din presses light kisses against your inner thigh, his stubble scratching lightly against your skin, until he finally reaches your core. His tongue begins to explore your folds, pushing through before finally settling on your clit.

“D-Din!” You cry out as he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking roughly. “Fuck, feels s’good.” Your words slur and your eyes blur as he laps at you.

“Tastes so good, so fucking sweet.” The vibrations of Din’s voice against your clit pushes you closer to the edge. You were already practically there.

He brings a finger to your folds, spreading your slick before sinking deep inside of you. The sensation coaxes a moan from your lips, and Din takes this as a sign to add another finger. He gives you a moment to adjust to him before pulling out and crashing back into you. He’s pushing further inside you as he takes you on his tongue. Nothing else matters, and nothing else will ever be the same.  

“Doing so good for me, sweet girl,” He soothes, his tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your entrance. “You sound so pretty when you say my name.”

“Din.” It’s a whisper, a plea. More, please, more. “Don’t stop. Fuck.” His free hand glides under your shirt, pushing your bra up and out of the way. He takes a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly, rolling the nub around before switching to the other. He squeezes softly, luring you closer to your breaking point.

“Taking me so good, being such a good girl,” Din groans. You throw your head back against the pillow. His words alone were enough to drive you mad. “Gonna make you come, gonna give you whatever you want, mesh’la.”

His name rolls off your tongue. You’re unsure of where it starts and where it ends, whispering it over and over again like you’re trying to commit this moment to some eternal memory.

His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers pumping faster, deeper inside of you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You were right there, your walls tightening around Din’s fingers.

“Din I’m gonna-,” But it’s impossible to get the words out. You’re a bleating mess underneath him.

“That’s it, come for me, pretty girl. Wanted this for so long,” His praises, his confessions, send you over the edge, searing heat spreading across every inch of your body. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect for me.” You can feel yourself shattering under his touch, your walls fluttering around him.

“F-fuck Din,” You whimper, riding out your high. Din slowly laps at your swollen clit, his fingers gently pumping in and out of you a few more times before pulling out. You feel empty without them. “N-need more. Need to feel you.” You can’t help but beg. It wasn’t enough. You wanted all of him, needed all of him.  

“Not tonight, cyar’ika,” Din breathes as he finds his way back next to you. “Don’t wanna push you too far. You’re sick, don’t forget. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, remember?” There’s a faint laugh in his voice, a certain genuine happiness that you can’t wait to hear more of.

“Tomorrow?” You ask, shifting so that your head rests against his chest.

“As long as you’re feeling better…” He trails off for a second, mulling his words over in his head before continuing, “I’ll do anything you want me to.” You know there’s a smile tugging at his lips, you can hear it. It makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Get some rest, okay?”

You nod your head, nestling even further into him. You wrap a leg around his waist, and he follows suit by wrapping his arms around you.

“Goodnight, Din.”

“Goodnight, mesh’la.”

No longer a danger to herself or others

She made up her mind and laced up her shoes…

Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment

Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor, and I knew then

I would do anything you want me to

I would do anything for you

I would do anything, I would do anything

Whatever you want me to do, I will do

I will do anything (whatever you want)

Whatever she wants (whatever you want)

#din djarin x reader smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x you smut #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin female!reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal x reader smut #Pedro pascal x reader fluff #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal x you smut #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #mando x reader smut #mando smut #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x fem!reader smut #din djarin comfort #the mandalorian reader insert

[pjmparadise]

3:23 am (don’t go, stay) Pt 1 || JJK

Pairing: jungkook x f! original character

Word count: 12.1k

Genre(s): fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst if you squint; neighbor au, pre-debut Jungkook au, pre-debut au, comic book artist Jungkook au, apartment au, neighbor au

Warnings: cursing, mentions of jungkook’s penis (yeah yeah... he sleeps naked ofc), brief injury (jk hurts himself bc he’s a dork); descriptions of anxiety and fear (jungkook is scared for a sec, oops); nudity mentions, jungkook is a little horny (what can I say....), jungkook gets a hard on lol; he’s also down bad pathetic crushing and is super clumsy, and brief mentions of home robberies (lol this feels random, but it isn’t I swear), very heavily dialogue based

Audience: 18+ (minors, DNI!)

Summary: Jungkook has had a couple of awkward run-ins with his pretty upstairs neighbor, who he may or may not be secretly pining over, and one night, she pays him an unexpected visit.

“My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A/N: WOOO! my first jungkook fic!! We recently got his birth time, and thus this title was born lol! I’ve been working on this baby for a few months now, and it’s finally finished!! After a long time of contemplating, i decided to make our female character an original character, and i know it’s kind of a rare thing in the community, but i felt it worked best with my story. It’s been a bumpy ride with this one since it’s my first lengthy fic (over 12k words... sheesh!) that will be a part of a short series. I’m very excited and a little nervous, but if you’re here, I’m glad to have you here. Thank you for giving my work a shot <3 (ps. italics indicate jungkook’s inner thoughts as well as flashbacks)

a big thank you to my lovely beta’s: @cherrysoulth @the-boy-meets-evil​ and @jeonjcngkook​ you’ve all helped me shape my fic and have been so helpful, and I am so so grateful. truly. seriously. thank you for brainstorming with me, for reading my work, and for being so sweet and so supportive.

a special thank you to @itaeewon​ for the lovely banner! I love it so so much &lt;3

Jungkook is awake to hear the sound of a muffled thud nearby.

His bedroom is dark and silent save for the alarm clock resting on a bedside table flashing bright red numbers at him. ‘It’s late, it’s late, you should be asleep,’ the time says. Jungkook shuts his eyes, groaning and rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, fuck, I know,” he mutters. He’s fully naked, lying on his back, eyes wide open and boring into the ceiling, blanket kicked off to the side, and arms folded behind his neck–still remembering a phone conversation with Namjoon earlier in the day.

“So she walked toward the elevator as it closed, and you didn’t open it for her?” Namjoon scoffs over the phone, shaking his head and clicking his tongue to show he’s disappointed. He knows Jungkook froze, Jungkook already told him he wanted to reach out and push the button for her, but Namjoon asked again anyway—he likes to give him a hard time. “Every time you see this girl, things just kind of go wrong. I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “I’ve noticed too. Is it a sign? Should I give up?” In his apartment, he sat curled up on his couch, his chin on his kneecaps. He’s fallen silent in thought.

“No, nothing like that. Maybe she didn’t get to see it was you, so she thinks it was someone else, or maybe she doesn't even think about it anymore. You know, like things that happen in your day you forget about later unless something reminds you of it?”

“Yes!” Jungkook relaxed, falling back against the couch with a hand over his forehead. “That probably is what’s going on. She went on with her day; other things have to happen, right?”

Namjoon was quiet. In his apartment, he was opening mail and reading over a proposal he was meant to sign soon. A project he hasn’t mentioned to anyone else, Namjoon folds the letter and sets it aside. “Sorry, yes. Yes, don’t worry too much. It will ruin your day. I mean that. Sorry for the pause. I just opened some mail.”

“Ah, okay. Well, you’re right.” Jungkook rose from his seat then. “Namjoon-hyung?”

Namjoon nodded even though he couldn’t be seen. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough, but you’re always helping and guiding me when I don’t even realize I need it.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. Finish your comic tonight, and submit it tomorrow. I know you’ll place in the contest and do well. You haven’t scrapped it have you?”

Jungkook sighed. Rubbing his eyelids, walking distractedly around his living room, he spoke with his eyes closed. “I have it. I finished it; I just don’t feel too good about posting it, even with the pseudonym; it feels like too much. Too much with what we already have going on as a group even. We’re trying to do something together, and the comic stuff is just… I don’t know. I don’t want it to distract me.”

Namjoon was on his back patio, leaning over the railing and looking out at the park across from him. “Jungkook, I’m going to tell you something and think about it however you want to. I respect your life, but I think—and these are just my opinions. I think you doubt yourself too often and need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.” Namjoon folds his arms over the railing, leaning his body against it. “No rush, bro. At all. The music we’re trying to pursue, it’s not going anywhere, you know?”

Jungkook nodded from his living room.

“Like, okay, look.” Namjoon fixed his gaze on a flock of birds rising from the trees. “The guys, we all have our passions. Yoongi with his piano, Jimin is passionate about his dancing, Taehyung with his instruments, Jin and his gaming, and Hoseok he’s been designing his own clothes lately; with me, you know I like poetry and painting, but we all share music. That is for the team, for a part of us, but we each have so many parts. You like art and storytelling; your comics are so cool, bro. You love watching Taehyung practice the trumpet, and Jimin dance after practice. We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.”

Jungkook almost cried. He stopped pacing. His heart was racing; it was all he had heard momentarily. If Namjoon were there in front of him, he’d hug him. Maybe he’d even cry. “Ah, Namjoon-hyung…” he swallowed hard at the saliva in his throat, blushing. ‘Namjoon always knows what to say,’ he thought. “I will think about it. I will set an alarm, just in case. I’ll decide in the morning, you know it’s my style to do that the day of. If I think about it now, it will be like this all day, and I’ll stress too much.”

“Good, then. Just think about it.” Namjoon smiled.

Jungkook lies motionless with his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, mouthing along to Namjoon’s words. “We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.” He sighs. How could he not worry about the guys? He’s twenty-five. Most idols start out much younger, and the mandatory enlistment is already so near for his hyungs. It’s bad timing, is all. My comic book can wait.

He wants to sleep, so he turns over, laying flat on his stomach, facing his wall. Resting his full body weight on his flaccid penis is slightly uncomfortable, but he ignores it. It’s the type of restless night that he has no chance up against, and even with his eyes closed, he feels painfully awake. Jungkook is thinking of her again—her pretty smile, the pink sundress she wore in the elevator, her ability to look him in the eyes and not shy away—and it’s almost like she's here, in the same room with him. He pictures the sundress again, the way it clung to her frame, highlighting every curve. Man, I want her. He shifts his hips around, surprising himself with a massive erection.

The thud strikes again suddenly, and he sits up, alarmed. Shit, is that here? Like outside my apartment? Jungkook squints in the darkness, bringing a hand to the nightstand to fetch his glasses. Any sign of arousal is now extinguished.

“Bam?” He calls out in a sluggish voice.  The clock beside him flashes bright red numbers at him. 3:23. “Ah, shit,” Jungkook mumbles, turning the clock away. A sound he can’t distinguish comes from his left, directly outside his bedroom. “It’s like home alone,” he says to no one.

Jungkook rests his head against the wall, the texture cold against his feverish face. He can hear the sound of a muffled conversation. “Shit, that’s right here, right outside,” he mumbles, stepping back. He reaches over mechanically to switch on the lamp beside him.

Now, Jungkook is painfully aware of his nakedness and frenetically searches for bottoms to change into. He’s thinking about how his legs don’t feel like his own as he walks to the chair by the door, where he sees basketball shorts. It’s like sleepwalking. Even though he’s awake, Jungkook feels as though he might’ve actually fallen asleep, and this is some strange anxiety dream he’s creating to cope with his qualms about submitting his comic. Still, he goes along with it, quietly changing into the shorts, walking out into his living room, and ducking his head when he passes the glass patio door.

Cursing under his breath, annoyed at himself for forgetting to throw on a shirt, Jungkook shakes his head at himself. I don't want to fight an intruder shirtless and commando in basketball shorts, damn... A part of him feels a rush of adrenaline as he crouches behind a potted plant and, chewing on his lower lip, fantasizes about a robbery gone wrong, one where he puts his boxing skills to the test—the other part of him wants this to be a dream, a sign from the universe that he ought to submit his comic. I’ll fucking do it if I survive this.

Jungkook stays like that for a while until he hears a sound again. Rising from his crouched position, he walks toward the back patio window, pulling back the curtain to peer out. He feels a tightness in his chest, and his hands tremble slightly. A shameful part of him is relieved that he’s alone and no one is around to see how shaken up he is.

He whistles quietly, calling to Bam, forgetting his brother is watching over him tonight. Craning his neck, he glances around his balcony patio and sees nothing. “Bam, come here,” his whispering is frantic. He whistles again, patting his leg lightly. Nothing. You’re okay. It’s nothing. It’s probably the cats again tipping over the plants. Just fix it tomorrow. Now, go back to bed. You need it. Jungkook is about to whistle once more when he remembers. His eyebrows knit together; shaking his head, he places his fingertips on his eyelids, murmuring a lamented, “Ah.”

Thinking better of it, he draws the curtain back again and sighs with relief before taking note of a figure crouched behind a chair with a hand shooting up to rub their head. Panic washes over him. His inner monologue consists of a string of every curse word he can think of as he ducks out of view. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s a person. If he’d been scared earlier, now he’s downright petrified.

Desperate, he begins to look around the room for a weapon. Anything. Jungkook stands still, breathing in heavy gulps of air, cradling his head as he adjusts his vision to the darkness of the living room. ‘Can’t even turn a fucking light on,’ he thinks as he drops to the ground and crawls around his living room. His home’s silence unsettles him. Jungkook can hear the nothingness aside from his ragged breathing, so he pinches the skin on his arm and hisses at the sharp pain. Okay, real life it is. His bare knees skid against the hard flooring, and his clammy palms slip beneath him; his heart is thudding hard and fast, the blood pooling between his ears. He’s scowling, chewing his lower lip, his chest heaving as he fumbles a hand under the couch; he fingers a cold object and remembers what it is. Aha! He comes up with a golf club Taehyung left behind a few nights ago. I love you, Taehyung!

Jungkook grips the golf club until his knuckles take on a pale color. Having a weapon gives him a newfound sense of security, and like before, he’s fantasizing about kicking someone’s ass. “You come to my house at three in the morning? My house?” he says as he walks through his living room, rolling his shoulders.

He draws the curtain again, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness; he sees the figure facing away from him and hunching over, a phone glowing against their face. He can call the police, and he almost wants to, but to avoid the drama of a police visit at three in the morning, he decides against it. Imagine the guys find out I called the police? He shudders at the thought. The stranger looks small anyway.

Jungkook reaches for the doorknob and pulls back the door. It’s a lot chillier than he’d anticipated. He folds his arms over his bare chest instantly, the skin covered in goosebumps—his teeth chatter of their own accord.

“Don't move!” He raises the golf club in a mid-swing position, ready to strike. The person shifts around, holding up the hand with the phone. “I said, ‘Don’t move’!” He sounds ridiculous, but he doesn't care. In the shadows, he watches the phone’s glow shut off. “I called the police, so don’t try anything. They’re on the way.” His voice doesn't even sound like his own. He takes a few steps toward the stranger, his grip tightening around the golf club. His heart feels heavy in his chest.

It’s hard to make out the features of this person, but they rise, walk toward the dim light spilling from the neighbor’s window, and he can see them now. The stranger looks straight at him, and he’s met with wide eyes staring at him. She’s standing, squinting at him with a hand on her hip, and she smiles wide. Damn! If this were an animation, she’d have a halo effect.

Jungkook has seen her a total of seven times—he can’t help it; he likes to keep track of these things. It’s his upstairs neighbor, their interactions before tonight being brief and in passing (the most recent engraved in his mind and tormenting him), and he’s thought of her tirelessly and has fantasized about a time they should meet, and things go well for a change.

Jungkook doesn't know her name, but he could recognize those beautiful dark eyes anywhere. He’s looking into them now, his body anchored, mouth turning into sawdust.

She’s talking to him; he’s just not listening. Not really. He can't grasp the reality that it’s actually her, and she’s standing on his patio, and she looks so beautiful. Should he be thinking that?

Her long black hair is in a loose ponytail, her eyebrows arch as her deep dark eyes blink at him, and her lips move. “Please tell me you didn't really call the cops,” she says, bursting through his trance.

Damn, I sounded so stupid! Jungkook blushes. He hopes she can’t tell from where she stands.

“I was trying to call my friend; I swear I was not snooping or breaking in.” She smiles, but her voice sounds worried. Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to read him. “Honest,” she says in a small voice as she leans on the railing and raises her hand with the cell phone for emphasis.

She’s wearing a dark gray sweatshirt twice her size and sandals with white socks, and he can’t tell if she’s wearing shorts or if the sweatshirt is all. He can feel his face reddening just from the possibility of her nakedness underneath the sweatshirt, so he decides not to focus on that.

Jungkook rubs the nape of his neck, abashed. The cold air surrounds him, and he folds his arms across his chest, remembering his exposed chest. His empty threat echoes and bounces around in his head, and he looks away from her. “I didn't call the cops, sorry. I didn't know what else to say. It’s what they say in movies.”

“You would be right anyway; this is your patio.” She laughs a little at that, and his heart rate picks up. She pushes herself away from the railing, smiling, and walks toward him with an outstretched hand. Her nail polish is glittery, and he doesn't notice, but this small detail makes him smile. “I’m Rei. I live upstairs. Maybe you’ve seen me before.” There’s a coy look on her face as she says this, and it makes him nervous.

So her name is Rei!!! Fireworks set off, exploding behind Jungkook’s wide eyes.

“Huh, maybe,” Jungkook lies. He shakes her hand slowly, his hand enveloping hers entirely, the contact sending a warm shock through his body.

“Maybe a few days ago,” she says, with a finger to her chin, like she’s thinking over something. “Oh, yes, have I seen you on the elevator?”

“The elevator?” He feigns innocence as he tongues his lip ring anxiously. “That’s strange. Every day is a blur for me.”

“For me, too,” she replies. She’s almost smirking, watching Jungkook lie. He can tell she’s caught him. “You just look sooo familiar.”

“That’s a first.” Still, he denies it.

“Maybe you just look like someone I’ve seen,” she says, looking into his eyes as if searching for something she placed there. “You have one of those faces, you know?”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, lips parted to speak, but nothing comes out. 

Is she flirting with me or giving me a hard time? DAMN!

“I have an ordinary face?” Jungkook wonders after a moment.

“Either that or my memory is failing me,” she says, sighing and shaking her head. “Which do you think it is?”

“I don't have an ordinary face,” Jungkook says in a small voice, “I have piercings on my face.”

“That’s true…” she’s watching the ground and suddenly looks into his eyes again. She holds his stare unblinking, and then her lips pull back into a big smile showing off cute bunny teeth. Just like me. “I’ve always had a good memory; I was just kidding.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, blushing.

He can smell her perfume when a cold breeze blows past him, carrying her real-life presence and enveloping him in it. It’s sweet and mixed with a scent of detergent he recognizes, and he’s watching how strands of her hair float beside her face. She’s so cute. Damnnnn.

“You should open the door for the ladies,” Rei says, raising an eyebrow, and stepping closer, she says, “Just harmless advice. Stranger .”

“I will consider that,” he replies, avoiding her fixed stare, attempting to ignore how she’s riled him up with a loud clearing of his throat. But his chest is on fire, his heart thudding hard against his rib cage at her closeness. “My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

She laughs, and he internally swoons. If he were a cartoon, his heart would burst out of his chest in comical dramatic thuds, his pupils heart-shaped.

“I’m kidding. I know I’m giving you a hard time when I’m on your patio at three in the morning, but I can explain why I’m here,” Rei mimics Jungkook’s movements by crossing her arms across her chest, her lower lip trembling, “but can I come in? It’s cold out, and I'm in the worst attire for this weather.” She gestures vaguely at her exposed legs, and Jungkook’s stare lingers before she notices—so he responds with a nod as he gestures for her to follow him inside. “Though you might have me beat. You came out here without a shirt, damn.”

Leading the way, he blushes at her comment and gives his head a light shake. She’s so talkative! Yoongi was right about her.

With a dreamy air about him, he remembers Namjoon’s words. Except now, all he remembers is: “You need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.”

Inside, Jungkook excuses himself to his room to change into a shirt. He reaches for his glasses beside his bed and goes to the closet. “Shirt, shirt, shirt,” he mutters as his hands sift through empty hangers. When was the last time he did laundry? He groans. “Shirt?” he reaches to pick up a heap of white clothing in the deep corner of the closet. He brings the shirt to his nose, sniffs, and walks back into the room, raising an eyebrow and nodding with approval. His hands are shaky as he maneuvers his head through a t-shirt sleeve in a panicked rush. He yanks the shirt off again, the t-shirt now inside out and knotted up in his grip; he groans as his fingers work the fabric. What if she’s gone when I go back out there? Agh, what if I’m dreaming all of this up, and lack of sleep is finally getting to me?

Rei’s voice comes through the walls, and though this is their first official meeting, he knows she’s smiling as she calls out to him. “You okay in there?”

Smoothing out the wrinkles on the shirt, he glances at his reflection behind the bedroom door before stepping out, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. “I’m okay; all is OK. Sorry.” He offers her a thumbs up and a big goofy grin that makes her laugh.

“Did you go on a hike without me?” She asks from her seat on his couch. She rests her face on her palm, looking up at him as he walks past toward the kitchen.

“Hike? I just put the shirt on; it was fighting me, though.”

“No, I meant,” she shakes her head, laughing. “I meant that as a while for changing into a shirt. Bad joke, sorry.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says.

“You’re wearing glasses,” she comments, her eyes looking over his face.

“I am,” he says, glancing her way.

It looks like she wants to say something else but doesn't.

He raises his eyebrows, nodding and tonguing the inside of his cheek. It doesn't happen often, but he doesn't know what to say. He walks into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. “Do you drink tea?” He wonders as he fills a kettle with water and sets it to boil.

Rei nods, stretching her legs before her and craning her neck back to look up at the ceiling. “Chamomile or whatever you have, I’m not picky.” She points a finger above her head, motioning for him to look. “Those are stars. Is this wallpaper? It looks pretty. Is it glow-in-the-dark?”

Jungkook is in the kitchen, his eyes watching how her finger moves in a swift motion of the length of the ceiling. He thinks about how her hand felt in his grip and wishes he’d been more present. “It’s… I don’t know, actually. It’s not a wallpaper; it’s carved into the ceiling, and yes, it glows but not like the bright green; it’s softer.” He looks at her, and she scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “Want to see?”

She twists her body to look at him, her smile so big he can’t help but return the affection. “Yes. Show me.”

“Grab the remote beside you; turn off the lights with it.”

She clicks the lights off, and the gasp she lets out makes his heart flutter in his chest. Aside from the hard thudding in his chest, the only sounds nearby are the buzzing of the refrigerator, the ice machine rolling out handfuls of freshly carved-out cubes, and the bubbling water in the kettle. Jungkook doesn't dare disturb the quiet; he’s leaning against the kitchen table, wanting her to stay. He looks for her in the dark, his eyes finding her silhouette on the couch, his lips pulling back into a smile. She’s better than in his daydreams; she smells sweet and of detergent, and she feels like a real person just like him, so near but out of his reach. And here, in the same room as him, so close to him, Jungkook realizes she could’ve left by now but hasn’t.

“I’d love it if I had this on my ceiling,” Rei pouts, “want to trade?” She clicks the lights back on, and Jungkook blinks, slowly adjusting to the brightness.

He pretends to mull it over, humming and tonguing his cheek. He puts on his best-thinking face. “No way, but you can come over and look at the stars when it's overcast or raining outside.” He walks toward the stove, where the water boils in the kettle. With his back turned to her, he’s hiding his blushing face as he sets two cups out before him.

“I think that sounds nice,” she replies, surprising him. “So what, I walk outside sometime, see a gray sky, and come downstairs to see you? ‘Hey, neighbor, can I see the stars?’ and you say, ‘Come in, I’ve just made cocoa, would you like some?’ and I say, ‘Thank you, are you sure?’ and then you say, ‘Sure’ except I never leave because I like the stars so much and you don’t know how to tell me I should go home.”

“Oh, that’s a good conversation. Is that what you’d like me to make? I like hot cocoa,” Jungkook says, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You think I'd want you to leave?”

“Well, if I were here all the time….” she looks at him through her lashes, and he catches her eyes and raises an eyebrow at her, a playful smirk on his lips. And she shakes her head, laughing. “Do you mean it, though?”

“About you coming to see the stars whenever you’d like?” Jungkook asks, leaning against the kitchen island. She nods at him in two slow motions of her head. “Yes, I mean it.”

“The skies are unusually gray these days, aren’t they?”

“I’ve noticed that too,” he says, opening the fridge. He grabs a box of cherries and shuts the door with his elbow. “But no rain.”

“Exactly, I told my friend Kimi; she lives with me upstairs and is almost a sister to me, except we have different parents. Well, I told her, ‘Haven't you noticed how it looks like it’s going to rain every day, but it never does?’ and she says, ‘Rei, it rains. It just happens to be when you’re asleep,’ and can you believe it? I woke up yesterday, and it was early, not like tonight, but early for me, and I looked outside my window, and there was dew sticking to the glass, and it was all sweaty when I touched the windowpane, and I realized she was right, it rained during the night, and I just missed it. Isn't that something so lame?”

“Huh,” Jungkook says, chewing on a cherry and offering the box to her. She shakes her head no and mouths a ‘Thank you’ to him. “So we’re off asleep and just missing the rain, so it always works out that we’re missing out on something during the day. It’s always like that. Kimi sees the rain, and you’re off sleeping, but you probably get to see other things I miss when I’m taking a nap and on and on.”

“That’s true. But I thought about catching it tonight. When I went to bed hours ago, I kept thinking about the rain and wondering if I stayed up, I might see it, and it wouldn’t just feel like I kept missing it and living the same gray day.”

“It’s like Santa Claus,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose as he tongues a cherry stem in his mouth, “waiting up all night for him to show up just for you to see your dad dressed up as Santa and realize he’s been putting the presents down there for years.”

Rei laughs at this and covers her face with her hands like she’s protecting her laugh from anything sharp. “Your dad did that? For real?”

Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows and pinches his nose bridge, and with a tone of feigned affliction, he says, “Yeah, he did. I knew the truth before a lot of my classmates.”

“How old were you? When he ruined Santa Claus. Do you remember a thing like that, like how old you were?” She rests her chin on her palm like she’s weighing her head. He thinks she looks cute like that but doesn’t say anything.

“I don't know exactly, but I was in the third year of school,” Jungkook says, suddenly thinking back on his infancy. He chews his lower lip when the answer suddenly comes to him, and he remembers the conversation he had with the guys a while back. They’d all taunted Seokjin when they found out Seokjin didn't know the truth about Santa until he was thirteen. “I was seven. I can't believe I remembered that. I was seven….” His mouth hangs open, and he remembers what he wore when he first saw his dad hunched over behind the tree with a gift in hand— a white flannel pajama set and his mother’s slippers. Where has this memory been hiding?  “Damn.”

“I was six,” she says, smiling. “My childhood was ruined a year before yours. Or wait, are we the same age? I just assumed we were.” She laughs again, bringing a hand up to her face to hide her smile.

“I assumed the same thing,” Jungkook admits, feeling his cheeks redden. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh wow,” she says, almost to herself. “Me too.”

He doesn't know what else to do but clear his throat and nod.  He never imagined getting this far (whatever that means). He’ll struggle to explain this later when Namjoon asks—Jungkook knows he’ll ask.

The kettle begins to whistle, and he’s reaching for the two coffee mugs as she says something behind him he doesn't catch. And he turns his head over his shoulder and nods at her. “What happened? Sorry, I didn't catch that.”

“I said, ‘You don't have to do that for me.’” She turns her head away as she says this, her long hair cascading along her profile, hiding her.

“I have a visitor,” he says, turning over to look at her with a grin. “I have good manners.”

“Oh, sure, manners,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him like a friend he’s known for years. “Is that my tea? It smells amazing.”

“It is, but it’s hot, so let’s leave it here.” Jungkook offers her a tight-lipped smile, shyly making his way toward her. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

“No, not at all; come, sit.” She pats the spot beside her and scoots over to make room for him. “Thank you for the tea and for letting me in. I know it’s late.”

Jungkook glances at the clock on the kitchen stove. 3:55. “It’s not that late. I was awake anyway, so I didn’t mind.” He’s toying with his lip ring again. “Why were you out there anyway?”

It’s been some time since Jungkook’s been this close to a girl. He feels his heart thudding away in his chest, her presence stirring up a desire that’s been dormant. Loose strands of hair frame her face, and his eyes follow her movements as she brushes the strands away. She looks embarrassed, her cheeks reddening. Still, he finds her so cute. “Truth?”

“Yes.” He scrunches his nose when he smiles at her.

“I locked myself out of my apartment. Before bed, I stepped out into my patio for a smoke and to read more of my book. I was also trying to test my rain suspicions to see if I could catch it while it happened. So, I’m out there romanticizing my life, pretending I’m in a movie; you know how we act when we’re alone and suddenly want to be poetic?” She looks at Jungkook, and he nods lightly. “That was me, except I got cold right away and said, ‘Oh fuck this, I’m going to bed,’ and that’s when I realized I’d locked the back door, and I was so mad I almost cried.” She places her fingertips against her forehead, continuing her recounting. “So, of course, I get the idea of calling a locksmith, but they’re closed; I don’t know what people should do if they need help during the night.”

“Most people sleep, I think.”

She clicks her tongue. “Right, some people do, but you and I are not those people, right?” She draws an imaginary line with her forefinger from her chest toward him. He nods and feigns oblivious as his leg brushes against her bare thigh as she shifts in her seat. “So, not only is every locksmith not available, but my service is horrible, so I am standing on my tiptoes trying to get a bar, and my phone slips. My heart almost burst.” She brings a hand to her chest for visual effect, and his eyes watch her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. He’s smiling at her—a wide smile that hurts his cheeks. “If it weren’t for your patio, my phone would be shattered to hell on the ground. I look over my balcony, and for the first time, I notice how close our balconies are.” Rei presses her hands over her thighs, leaning forward in her seat and fixing her eyes on the glass patio door across from her. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I don’t go out there much. Anyway, I’m rambling. I noticed I could jump directly into your patio because there’s a mattress out there, and well….” She makes a motion with her hands that says: ‘ Ya know?’

“You weren’t scared of jumping? The balconies are close, but we’re still six stories up.” Jungkook rests his hands on his knees, fully invested in this story; his eyes never leave her. She forms a tight line with her lips and gives him a serious look that makes him laugh. “Ok, so you were scared.”

“I was scared! But there’s a mattress out there, you know,” she says in a small voice. She’s blushing and scratching at the side of her nose to avoid his eyes.

Jungkook notices this and clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat.  “So it was not an accident, then?” He raises an eyebrow at her, sucking his teeth in feigned disapproval.

The truth is, he’s not mad about it; he wants her here. He almost feels like he is in a dream.

“Not entirely. Don’t ask me how I thought about returning to my place after retrieving my phone because I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Oh, there’s a mattress out there. You could’ve just slept there; no big deal,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Rei brings a hand to her face to hide behind, making a groaning sound. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to laugh at you. I just don't know what to think— this has never happened before.”

“And it won’t happen again; let’s hope.” She laughs, and it’s different from before; it sounds deeper like she reached into herself and decided to really show him. And Jungkook likes the sound of her laugh but does not comment. She moves a few strands of hair from her face and rests her cheek on her hand, leaning on the couch's armrest. It’s slowly dawning on Jungkook how badly he wants her. What am I supposed to do with her this close to me? Damn. “So, what’s your name? You didn’t say when I told you mine.”

He rises from the couch, remembering their tea.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he says as he pours the tea, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself. Huh.”

Rei’s looking at him with her chin in her hand and a serious look on her face as he’s walking toward her with an outstretched hand in offering. “It’s chamomile,” Jungkook announces.

“Jeon Jungkook,” She repeats with a light smile. “I like it. I don’t know any other Jungkooks.”

“Yeah? I’ve had this name for a long time. I like it too.”

She takes the cup and brings it to her face, inhaling the scent and shivering, and says, “Thank you again. This tea smells sweet. It reminds me of this tea my grandmother used to make my sister and me when we were kids. She would put a little bit of honey, the real kind, and peppermint leaves; it was….” She sighs longingly. “I miss that tea; this smells like home.”

Sitting beside her, he takes a sip of tea, his gaze on her unmoving. Her lips part as she blows gently, the steam rising from the cup in lazy strokes. Jungkook’s heartbeat quickens when she matches his stare with her deep dark eyes that seem to look for something in his.

“This tea has honey, but I doubt it’s the real kind you mentioned, but I still think it’s good.” He clears his throat, looking away as he adjusts his glasses on his nose bridge.

“I like your glasses. I wanted to say that earlier,” Rei comments, taking a sip of her tea, “I don't know why I didn't say anything.” She moves around in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her, then asks, “Can I wear them? Are they prescription?”

“They’re just reading glasses. You can wear them. I put them on sometimes just because they suit me,” he pulls his glasses off, wipes the lenses on his shirt, and hands them over.

“Ah, so you like how they look on you,” she says, her eyes gleaming as she takes the glasses from him and sets them on her face. “How do they look?”

If he were a cartoon character from one of his comics, he’d have melted into a puddle, exploded like dynamite, turned into stardust, and returned to his original self. Except, she’s a real person just like he is, flesh and blood and so beautiful, and he’s off in space being reborn.

“Look at me,” he motions for her to turn his way. She looks straight at him, wearing his glasses and blushing at his attention. She begins to unfold in front of him, her playful demeanor softening. “You look pretty. If they weren't my prescription, I would give them to you.”

“Here, they’re hurting my eyes,” she says, laughing. She removes the glasses and starts rubbing her eyes with closed fists. “You’re sweet, though. I couldn't take a guy’s glasses. How will he go on drinking his tea and letting me in to watch the stars?”

Jungkook feels a warmth spread in his chest. God, how is she real? He runs his fingers through his long hair and coughs once, then again. His nerves are getting to him. She’s too close to him, her bare thigh soft against his leg. He begins to count backward in his head.

“Were you really awake already, or did I wake you?” She asks him all of a sudden. Her eyes stay on him as if waiting for him to say something else.

“You don’t believe me? I was awake. Swear.” He raises his free hand at his side.

She appears to mull that over for a bit, bringing her cup of tea to her lips but not taking a sip. “What were you doing?”

Jungkook is silent, and she sits unmoving until he speaks.

What was I doing? Besides dreading another deadline? Thinking about a comic I might not submit or thinking about not having a shot in hell with a girl like you? Images of the times they’ve run into each other flick by in his head like a slow PowerPoint slide. The registration office, desolate stairwells, crowded evacuations, elevators closing, Rei standing in front of him in a summer dress with a strange look on her face; Rei on his back patio, hunched over with a phone near her face; Rei in his apartment, on his couch, next to him. He feels the adam’s apple in his throat rising and falling. He’s been quiet for who knows how long.

“Thinking, I guess.” He breathes out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I don’t know why I took so long to say that. It sounded boring in my head, so I had to think if there was something else I forgot about.”

“That is pretty boring, just thinking. But that’s life, though, isn’t it? Kind of boring sometimes.”

Jungkook nods, blushing and avoiding looking at her. What if she can read minds? He straightens his posture and runs his fingers through his hair again, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of carved-out stars. It’s OK. It’s OK. She’s still here.

The living room is almost dead silent. Jungkook notices how Rei sips her tea and looks over the area. It’s neat, for the most part. Bam’s toys lay scattered near the laundry room entrance, along with some of Jungkook’s dirty socks the dog likes to chew on, and Bam’s food bowls are resting up against the wall beside his doghouse. The potted plants Namjoon gifted Jungkook are still alive and pop against the beige coloring of the walls in front of them. The TV is massive, his Playstation console resting on its side. Her eyes find the corner shelf where Jungkook’s Marvel figurines are on display behind glass doors, and she turns to look at him with a sparkle in her wide eyes. “Are those yours?” She gestures with her thumb. He nods, chewing his lower lip anxiously. “Can I look?” She rises from her seat when he motions for her to go on. Like standing in a museum, she silently peers into the display with her hands clasped behind her back.

“I just got that case a few days ago when I got that plant next to you,” Jungkook remarks, joining her.

“I remember,” she says distractedly.

“You remember?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at her fixedly, bringing a fingernail to his mouth. He scrunches his eyebrows, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers; he remembers, too.

He’d bumped into Rei on his way upstairs, both arms holding the bonsai trees obstructing his view, taking long strides up the stairs, chanting to himself and grunting in rhythm. He was on the 50th stair.

“Hey!” A voice shouted at him. “What the hell?”

Jerking to the side of the staircase, flattening against it, Jungkook jumped at this voice. “Sorry! You’re okay?”

The voice struck him as familiar, but mostly, he was surprised he wasn't alone on the staircase. The person laughed a lively laugh, and he felt his chest tighten. He lowered the plants, meeting her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, shaking her head. She grinned at him, and his heart gave a squeeze. “These things happen. I should take the elevator next time.”

“The plants, I mean. You walked past me going up the stairs and hit me on the head with it.” She glances to her right, catching his eyes briefly. He groans, nodding lightly. She continues, voicing their shared memory, “You were carrying two pots of plants that day and lost your balance or something like that.”

He nods with his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn close together as he tongues his cheek. “I remember, too,” he opens his eyes to look over at her as he continues, “sorry again. My friend told me not to do that, and I didn’t listen.”

A Spiderman figurine holds her attention, and she’s smiling. He feels his cheeks burn at her sincere gesture. She pretends not to notice and says, “You like running into me like that, then?”

“Like how? It was an accident,” Jungkook says, standing beside her and stretching his arms behind his head.

“Riiiiight,” she says, smirking. “Accident.”

“I didn’t know you were in the stairwell. No one takes the stairs,” Jungkook counters, his voice taking on a defensive edge.

“I take the stairs, I like the exercise, and it’s less embarrassing for me,” She admits. “Running in front of people just looks so stupid. I get too worked up about it and think people are just laughing at me, and they might be, but this way, I can do it in private.”

“Running across the street when cars let you pass is very embarrassing for no reason,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “And okay, fair. I took the stairs that time just because the wait for the elevator was so long. I didn’t mean to hit you that time either.”

“Jungkook, we have to stop meeting like this.” She gives her head a light shake and looks down at her hands. She picks at the glitter on her nails distractedly. “So many accidents. We’re too clumsy.”

“I know what you mean. Namjoon told me to leave one of the plants in the lobby, but I was too impatient. I’m like that sometimes.” He can’t seem to stop blushing.

But Jungkook has to agree. There have been too many accidents in their run-ins with each other, and he remembers each encounter with extreme detail.

Jungkook saw her for the first time when he moved in and face-planted into her back as she stood by the entrance of the registration office. But it didn't happen right away, at least.

The office was big and bustling with sounds. Jungkook walked in, asked out loud if there was a line, and someone nearby replied that yes, there was a line, and he was right at the tail of it. He bounced on the heels of his feet, humming a melody to himself, tapping his fingers against the sides of his legs. A TV across from him played a K-Pop music video of a group he’d never heard of. Beneath the TV was a table with a Terra Kaffe espresso machine accompanied by a spread of dan-pat bbang, songpyeon, bingsu, and reusable cups. His stomach grumbled, but he kept still, willing himself to look away.

Rei stood in line, a foot or two in front of Jungkook, sporting her hair pulled back, secured neatly with a clip the shape of a butterfly. She wore casual clothing: a black long-sleeve sweatshirt, baggy pants, and white Nike shoes. She had earbuds in, and he could hear the muffled sounds of a guitar, and though he did not fully understand why, he smiled.

“Next in line, please,” a woman behind a glass window called out, taking an uninspired sip of her iced coffee as she waved a hand toward her. “Come on, next in line.”

Jungkook wore a black t-shirt, navy plaid bottoms, and socks with slides, though standing there, he began to regret his attire. His eyes looked over the office, and mentally, he tallied the number of girls he spotted. Nine. He felt his cheeks warming up, his neck growing hot, and when he looked over to his right, a girl waved at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He blushed, nodding at her. Why hadn’t he worn something nicer?

He was adjusting his sock, balancing on his right leg, when a dog ran past him, toppling him over. He hopped on his right leg, his arms flailing at his sides, and his face instantly smashed into Rei’s back. If he had a chance to do it over, he wouldn’t have cried out so loud. Even now, months later, he cringes at the memory. He’d turned away, cupping his aching nose after she whipped her head over her shoulder at the sudden impact. Their eyes met briefly, her pupils dark and wide; she mouthed something to him, his ears ringing, all of the sounds around him muddled into incoherence.

“I’m so sorry. Excuse me,” Jungkook mumbled, turning at his heel and speed-walking past a group of girls that giggled when he passed them.

Jungkook thought about her all day after that first day. While he unpacked, walked Bam, and cooked for himself later in the evening. She was pretty, sure, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t break apart and understand— it was new and brought on a strange sensation and desire to know her. He didn't know it then, but he’d see so much of her it would become nearly impossible not to think of her.

And here they are, five months later.

“You agree, don't you?” Rei prods. “Maybe you’re the clumsy one, Jungkook. I was just standing there.” She says that like she knows what he’s thinking. That first day they saw each other. She’s thought of it too.

He swoons at the sound of his name escaping her lips again. “Jungkook,” he mouths, taking it in—not wanting to forget how it sounds when she says it.

She turns on her heel, returning to the couch and fetching her phone from between the cushions. Her backside faces Jungkook, and he shyly lowers his gaze when he catches a glimpse of her ass in shorts that do a poor job of hiding anything. “I’m impatient too, as you know now,” she offers, looking down at her phone, her face illuminated with the screen's glow. She reads something and has a serious look on her face. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

He squints at the clock on the stove. 4:27. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replies, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Your figures are cool, by the way. They look like the real deal. Are they?”

He nods silently, tonguing his lip ring. Jungkook watches her with a gut-wrenching desire to step forward and take her face into his hands and kiss her.

“You’re a Marvel geek. I'm guessing,” she says, staring down at the ground. It’s like she’s suddenly shy. Her voice is quieter. “I like some of the movies. I saw the new Spider-man with my friends last week. I’m late, I know.”

“I have Disney plus,” Jungkook says, his eyes looking her over. “And I’m not trying to say anything like the ramen stuff, you know, all that stuff people say to each other recently to get together. It’s a real offer.”

Rei laughs, bringing a hand to cover her face. “So you don't want to get together?” She looks at him with a deep intensity in her eyes and smiles coyly, making Jungkook swallow hard.

“I said that, didn't I? That’s not what I meant. It’s just that nowadays, words have different meanings. Let me rephrase-”

She takes a step closer to him, and his chest feels ablaze. She’s so close he can smell the fragrance of her clothing much clearer than before. We use the same detergent.

“I’d like to come by sometime,” she says, her eyes lingering on his hands holding his cup, “for a movie, no ramen.” Now she smiles warmly and takes a step back.

She likes doing this to me. It’s torture.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? You seem nice. I don’t think you’d be a freak, right?”

“Right,” he says, nodding.

“I know we’re technically strangers, but you have a good vibe,” she says, shrugging. “I show up here so late, and you serve me tea. You’re a nice guy.”

“Am I?”

“I think so. Are you?” She quirks up an eyebrow, twitching her lips between a smile and a laugh.

Jungkook smiles at her. He feels his cheeks growing warm. “I am. I don’t know why I challenged you about it.”

“Because you like to flirt with me, I think,” she retorts, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m just a nice guy,” he says as he places his palms  against the kitchen counter for balance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” She glances at her phone screen, reading the time, and Jungkook does the same with the time on the kitchen stove. She's going to leave. I can feel it.

“I guess I should get going…”. Rei looks apologetic for some reason. A pink shade colors her cheeks, and she brings a hand to her forehead and lets out a deep breath as she says, “Kinda hot in here, no?”

Jungkook wants to tell her she doesn't have to go and that he doesn't want her to, but he only offers her a timid smile and looks away, nodding in agreement. “A little. I’ve been feeling it too,” he says, looking at her and catching her eyes.

Should I move now? Is it now? My move? Will she kiss me back?

Still, he brings his cup of tea to his lips as she stores her phone in the pocket of her hoodie, and she pauses as if remembering something. “And why is there a mattress outside?”

He’s drinking his tea and begins to choke. Coughing, his chest on fire, and his throat closing in, Jungkook rushes to double over his sink, and she’s standing behind him with a wrought-up look.

“Are you okay?” She steps closer to him, lightly touching his arm.

Jungkook coughs, clearing his throat; he can feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes instinctively shed tears. The feeling of her touch on his arm feels like fire. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. The uh, the mattress?” He looks toward his patio, a panicked look in his eyes behind the tear-stained glasses. He pauses, looking down at the floor. “I have them all over, so I can nap when I feel like it.”

She throws her head back and laughs, not taking him seriously until silence hangs between them. She raises an eyebrow. “Wait, really?” With that, her phone goes off in her pocket, and she reaches for it. “Sorry, one sec.”

He leaves her to talk on the phone with whoever and walks over to pick up Bam’s toys and dirty socks to throw in a hamper. Jungkook can hear the muffled phone conversation a room over, so he hums a song. She speaks in a hushed voice, but he hears his name mentioned.

He coughs before he reappears in the kitchen.

She’s humming to herself, lingering by the door, and his heart squeezes. ‘Don’t go,’ he wants to say. ‘Stay.’

“I should go…” she says, not budging from where she stands, chewing her lower lip, looking at Jungkook through full eyelashes. Almost as if waiting for him to interject, and him, not knowing how to.

“If you want,” Jungkook says. He swallows hard at a lump in his throat. The plead to have her stay pushed down into his chest.

DAMN!! 

A look he can’t decipher takes over her face, and then the next moment, she’s smiling at him, reaching for the doorknob just as he does. They share an embarrassed exchange of looks when their hands touch, and he shakes his head, an anxious chuckle escaping him. His face feels warm as he pulls the door open for her. Rei steps out into the hallway, turns over her shoulder, and raises her hand to wave at him slowly.

Again, he yearns to kiss her and again lacks the courage.

“Bye, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Rei,” he replies, leaning on the doorframe, his heart sinking into his stomach.

The next day, Jungkook is cooking for himself. He submitted his comic in the morning and has endlessly replayed last night’s events in his head.

“I should’ve kissed her,” he says to Bam.

Jungkook’s phone pings a few times and is followed by a call. He answers, distracted as he serves himself bibimmyeon and pork belly. He props the phone between his chin and ear, tilting his head comically as he walks back and forward to the table, setting down a steaming bowl of sticky rice. “‘Ey, Namjoon-hyung!…” He drags the chair out from underneath and settles in front of his plate. Jungkook reaches over the table, yanks a paper towel, grabs his chopsticks, and begins digging into the rice. “Wait,” he glances at the clock on the wall. 6:47. “It’s almost seven,” Jungkook says, confused. “Your meeting with the record executive started at six… it ended that quickly?”

Namjoon smiles. “The meeting was quick. I have really good news.” He pauses for effect. He’s in the studio, eyeing the email on screen. “Hold on,” he says, placing the phone on the desk and turning the speaker on.

 Jungkook is chewing his cheek, the chopsticks loosening in his grip. He lets the silence exist for a few seconds, then he rubs the back of his hair, leaning back in his chair, his spare hand fisted over his mouth. “What?” He grumbles into his fist.

“He liked my demo. He had some comments about it but said it would do well. He said everyone else liked it; whatever that means, we’re in. He said we can come in for a group meeting where we introduce the guys, and that way, we can all talk about what we want to do going forward.”

Jungkook is speechless; they’re in. All seven of them. He can’t believe it. He stares wide-eyed at Bam, who tilts his head quizzically. “No way. No way. Is this for real?” Jungkook’s heart is thudding so hard he can see it beneath his shirt.

“I swear, Jungkook. It is.”

“Do the guys know?” Once more, Jungkook meets the eyes of his dog, and he’s smiling so hard he feels his nose scrunch.

“Some of them do, yeah. I was with Jimin earlier.”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook says, bringing his palm over his forehead. Smiling with his eyes crinkling, he feeds himself rice. “Yoongi will be so happy. We all are, you know but him .” Jungkook makes a sound with his teeth. “He’ll be so proud of all of us.”

“I know, I know. Yoongi hasn’t slept well since we first submitted our demos, and when I mentioned I had a meeting with an executive, he grabbed his jacket and took off to the studio. I don’t know what he’s been doing when he comes in, but I know he might cry.”

“I might cry too,” Jungkook admits in a hushed voice.

Namjoon wipes at his eyes, and a silence hangs between them. They’re both sniveling on the receiving end. After Jungkook clears his throat and allows himself another sniffle, he starts eating again.

“What did you make?”

“I have a lot of rice left. I made bibimmyeon and pork belly, but I have some noodles, too, if you want me to make them. Come and eat with me if you’re free. Let’s celebrate.”

“Can I leave my bike outside?” Namjoon asks. Namjoon shuts off the shared laptop in the studio, grabs his puffer jacket and the book he’s been reading, heads over, and flips off the light switch. His phone remains on speaker as he locks the door and shoots a glance down the hallway. From a distance, Yoongi does a quick two-finger salute in passing. Namjoon’s heart gives a squeeze.

Jungkook thinks it over. He’s never seen anyone leave a bike outside. “I don't know, honestly. Bring it to my apartment; it’ll be fine. I have something to tell you, by the way,” he says, referring to the previous night.

“Just saw Yoongi,” Namjoon says, jingling the keys on his finger and making his way out of the building. “I have to tell him, but I think he’s already in his studio locked up. You know how he gets.”

“He won’t let you in,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose and stifling a laugh through a mouthful of steak.

“Exactly. And what is it? I’m bringing my bike, I thought about leaving it chained, but it’ll stress me out.”

“He’s almost done with his demos, Hobi said the other day,” Jungkook replies. “But it’s about her, bro. You won’t believe me.”

Namjoon laughs through the phone. “Mystery-neighbor-crush her, you mean?”

“Neighbor stuff, am I that annoying? Don't answer that. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you; just come in because I have to wash Bam.”

“All right, bro, give me twenty, and I’ll be there.”

Jungkook is sitting across from Namjoon, who raises an eyebrow at him as he chews on his steak. “So she came in here,” he swallows his bite and continues, “was on that couch?” he signals with his chopsticks, “and she went home after that?”

Jungkook nods. The moment he’s been dreading: admitting he chickened out. He’s not proud of himself and debates whether to omit a few things.

“Yeah, what else could’ve happened?” He takes a drink of his water, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze.

“So many things, bro. But, the very least that should have happened is that you got her number or something like that. Did you ask?”

Jungkook is quiet. His cheeks are flushing with heat. He’s chuckling at himself, remembering how he clammed up around her.

“You just let her leave, right? She walked out, thanked you, and you probably made her a tea she didn't drink.” Namjoon is laughing when Jungkook groans and shakes a fist above his head. “Ah, Jungkook!”

“I know!” Jungkook shakes his head. “But I got a name. I got a name; that’s something, isn't it?”

“Well?”

“It’s Rei. I don’t know where she’s from and all that, but that name just suits her, doesn't it?”

“It does, it does. But come on, bro! This girl lives so close!  For starters, she stuck around. She could've just left after explaining herself. Instead, she sat down right where you’re sitting and stayed .” Namjoon feeds himself rice as he shakes his head and continues while he chews, “She looked at you the last time we evacuated; I saw her. And how many times have you bumped into her already? She probably thinks you’re out to get her.”

“I know. I kept thinking the same. I thought: ‘She could've left by now, but she hasn’t. I don’t know, hyung, I just froze. I just kept nodding; it was so stupid.” Jungkook closes his eyes and places his fingertips over his eyelids, shaking his head in lament.

“Not stupid, bro,” Namjoon offers, swallowing his bite. “I’ve seen her around too, and she’s really pretty, but it’s a weird sensation when she’s nearby; it’s like her beauty is different. I don't mean it like I want her now, nothing like that, but it sort of feels like I am stuck too. Like, what can I say right now?”

Jungkook nods, understanding the sentiment. “It knocks the wind out of me sometimes when I see her,” he says, reaching for a napkin. “I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn't. It was different being close to her like we were. This girl is killing me, Namjoon-hyung. You said she looked at me?”

Namjoon smiles warmly. “She did, at the evacuation a week ago. Was it a week now?” He wipes at his mouth and looks at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook nods at him. “Well, a week ago, I went out last and caught her looking your way. She had her hand like this,” he brings his hand up to shield his eyes against nothing, “and she was smiling. She didn't see me noticing.”

Jungkook scoots closer. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s knee, looking straight at him until he’s cross-eyed. “At me?” he asks, loving that this happened.

Namjoon shakes his leg free and takes a sip of his water. “I think she likes you. She was looking at you the same way I’ve seen you look at her,” Namjoon reaches for his phone, checks a text, and continues, “so she would’ve been into you. Did she flirt with you?”

Jungkook mulls it over. He doesn't want to read too much into it, but he thinks she did flirt. “I could be wrong, and I’d hate to be wrong,” he says, “but I feel like she was into me, like, actually into me, and I thought about kissing her. Would that have been too forward?”

“Hmm,” Namjoon says as he chews his food. “Maybe. I have to see you two in action, to say. I think you can trust your gut, and if you felt that way, maybe she was giving you those vibes on purpose, you know? Sometimes girls are so forward that it's confusing. Like, ‘am I reading this wrong?’ When the whole time there was only one way to read it.” He gives his head a light shake.

“She was talkative like Yoongi predicted.”

“Oh, was she now?” Namjoon looks surprised. “I sided with Jimin when he said she seemed shy and kind of mean. Not mean, but you know the mean look girls have that makes them look kind of cool?”

Jungkook nods with a mouthful of steak.

“That’s actually interesting that she was talkative. That’s good. I think you’d do bad to get with a shy chick again.”

Jungkook once dated a girl in high school he didn't know how to talk to, and when he meant to break things off, he’d just ignored her for the entire year. She was too shy, too quiet, too reserved. He was everything else but.

“I agree with you on that,” Jungkook says honestly. “Back to Rei, she’s even prettier up close, hyung. I thought I was in a dream, that sounds so cheesy, but it’s true.”

“It was, what, four in the morning?”

“Three. Close to four.”

“Exactly. I would think that's a dream too. Seems like it. Are you sure you’re not messing with me?” Namjoon elbows Jungkook lightly.

“I want her. Is that so pathetic?”

“A little bit,” Namjoon teases, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to a slight pinch. “Like this tiny little space right here is where you live.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he walks into the kitchen for a beer.

“Honestly, Jungkook, I think she likes you back. Pass me the rice. Want some of the steaks?” He shows Jungkook his bowl, and Jungkook accepts, opening his mouth to be fed. “You can feed yourself.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says, mouth agape. “Just one piece.”

Namjoon is feeding Jungkook rice when the doorbell rings. The two exchange bewildered looks, and Jungkook shuffles from the ground, sliding on the flooring with his socks as he peers through the peephole. He falls to the ground as if shot, crouching with a deathly look about him.

Namjoon shifts in his seat on the floor and, stretching his neck, asks Jungkook who it is. Over and over, quietly, he’s asking who’s at the door.

Jungkook doesn't answer until Namjoon stands. He shoots a hand up to grab Namjoon’s sleeve, motioning him to crouch beside him. Whispering, he says, “It’s Rei; what do I do?”

“Get up!”

“I can't. I can't. I don't know what she wants. What if she knows?”

“Knows what? Get up; I’m opening the door in 3, 2,...”

Jungkook stands. He can feel his heart beating viciously, and his hands are sweating. He glares at Namjoon, raising his hand and motioning for a cutthroat. “I’ll kill you,” he mouths as his friend walks away.

Jungkook peers into the peephole and sees her turning away. He pulls back the door quickly, causing her to turn around. She smiles, and he wants her all over again. His relaxed demeanor vanished. “Hey, what’s going on?” are his first words.

Rei laughs, and he can feel himself blushing. He drops his head when he remembers Namjoon is a witness.

“Hey, neighbor,” she says, smiling the same coy smile she lent him last night. She pulls a paper from her pocket, extends it to him, and says, “It’s an invite to my birthday party this weekend; if you don't have any plans, I thought it would be nice to hang out and see you again. I’ll have friends over, and of course, you can bring yours.”

A party? Wait, see me again?? “I will be there. This weekend. I’ll make an appearance.” He stops talking when she laughs. He can feel the blood boiling on his face. What the hell is going on with him? “Sorry, yes, I mean, thank you.” Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s burning gaze behind him—he can picture how his friend stifles a laugh into his fist.

“No problem. Who’s that?” She points inside the apartment.

Namjoon waves when Jungkook turns around to see him standing behind him, a smirk tugging at his lips. Jungkook widens his eyes at him, mouthing for him to stop laughing. Stepping aside for his friend’s introduction, Jungkook signals toward his friend with a swift movement of his hand. “Namjoon, this is Rei. Rei, this is Namjoon, a good friend and gifter of bonsai trees.”

“I’ve seen you, no?” she talks to Namjoon, who nods, flexing his pointer finger, indicating that she has. He’s chewing cheese puffs, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him, silently questioning him: ‘Where did you get those?’ His stare says.

“At the evacuation, I was there.”

“Ah, yes, you had bright green hair like a highlighter pen then.”

He laughs. “That was me, yeah! You were with that girl, the…one with the red hair in pigtails.”

“Ah. That’s right! You have a good memory.” She sounds impressed.

Jungkook tongues his cheek, shaking his head beside them unnoticed.

“You too, you too. Cheese puff?” Namjoon offers a bag of cheese puffs.

“You’re tempting me, but I will have to decline. I just had lunch.”

“Your friend, the one with the pigtails, will she be at this party?”

Namjoon is nervous, but he plays it off well. Only Jungkook can tell.

“I think she can be there,” Rei replies, her eyes shifty and full lips pursing. She seems to think it over, anxiously looking at Jungkook and chewing on her lower lip. It’s as though she’s waiting for Jungkook to glance her way. Only Namjoon is seeing this.

Jungkook is annoyed. They’re talking so easily. He shifts uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the door. He watches how Namjoon chuckles and how she timidly looks down at her hands. The glittery nail polish made his heart feel like a stone in his chest. He wants to interject. But how?

“I’m sure the guys will be free this weekend too; we might celebrate our little accomplishment here sometime soon, so Jungkook can tell you about that and invite you when the time comes, right, Jungkook?”

Jungkook only nods. That’s all he seems to be capable of when she’s around. He feels so strange around her. He feels the same way each time, like he’s coming down with something suddenly. Didn’t it just get so hot out here with the door open like this? He wonders. Is anyone else sweating?

Their voices continue around him. He nods a few times when the conversation shifts toward him, but he feels lightheaded. He wants her so badly.

He doesn’t mean to, but he clears his throat, turning the conversation around him to a simmer.

“So, Jungkook, Namjoon told me he’d come this weekend and bring your other friends. There’s a theme, by the way.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s fairytale-themed!” She raises her arms above her head like a big reveal and holds her pose, awaiting their reaction.

Namjoon laughs, turning away; he says: “I’ll give it good thought! Thank you for the invite, Rei!”

“And you?” She looks at Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook swallows hard at a lump in his throat. His brain seems to forget how to form sentences when she’s around.

“Yes, you. Do you have any ideas, JK?” she smiles, lopsided.

Is she flirting with me? Here? Namjoon-hyung! Come back!

“I have to rewatch all of my favorite fairytale movies to have an idea,” he says, bringing a hand to his head. He feels the heat emitting from his forehead. “I’m kidding. I think something cool like Dracula.”

“Is that a fairytale?” She laughs.

“Define a fairytale. Isn’t it just make-believe?”

“You don’t think vampires are real?” She raises an eyebrow at him, but he can tell she’s intentionally giving him a hard time. Her smile is surfacing and betraying her.

“I do, actually. Ah, okay. Give me time. I’ll think of something. What about you? Who are you going as?”

She pretends to think it over even though she already has an idea. “I won’t say; you’ll have to see.”

He’s fully leaning against the doorframe, his foot slipping under him, and he almost falls over. He mutters something to himself, and she’s biting back a laugh. “You want tea or something before you go? If you’re not busy.”

“Ah, I want to say yes, but my friends are upstairs; I just stopped by real quick but thank you.”

He nods. “That’s okay, next time.”

“I’ll catch you two later,” she says, waving.

She turns to walk away, and Jungkook doesn't know what takes over him, but he shouts after her: “Thank you!”

He’s too embarrassed to see if she turns around. He closes the door immediately.

He doesn't even want to look at Namjoon. He stands facing the door for a while, his head hanging low, eyebrows scrunched up in physical anguish. He chews his lip and winces at himself, remembering.

“I said that out loud,” Jungkook says, incredulous with himself.

“You said that out loud,” Namjoon reiterates from somewhere in the room.

Sighing, Jungkook turns over, and flinches at a grape Namjoon tosses at him. His nose scrunching, he catches another grape mid-air and chews noisily. “She wants to know me properly,” he says, with a dreamy air.

“So be her prince charming,” Namjoon jokes, plopping down on his couch, busy on his phone.

“So I will be,” Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look up at his ceiling. She’s up there, walking around, talking to her friends, and he’s beneath her, dreaming of the weekend. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“Let’s go; I need an outfit.”

“Now?”

“Now, get up! Get up!”

“Let me finish my grapes; I just washed them,” Namjoon whines, still not glancing from his phone’s screen.

“Okay, but after, we’ll go.” Jungkook walks into his room, grabs his glasses, and steps back out.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Jungkook nods, biting the corner of his lip distractedly. “Oh, I’m serious.” He reaches for the car keys on the table beside him. “I’ve never been more serious.”

And he is. He’s never been more serious about anything else. He wants Rei, but he wants her to want him, too. He can’t help but feel as though his luck is turning out.

taglist: @vsualitae​

A/N: thank you for being here! I hope those that looked forward to the full first chapter have enjoyed this! It's my first lengthy fic, as I've already stated, so any feedback is greatly appreciated! reblogs, comments, and anything that lets me know you've enjoyed this will make me the happiest writer :') I appreciate you for giving my work a shot <3 Let me know if you'd like a second part, what you liked, etc. I'd love to hear from you, reader >.< until next time!!

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[sunflowersandforgetmenots]

So glad to see you popping up on my dash!! I’ve got a req from the soulmates post!

#15 No harm done - soulmates are not able to hurt each other physically

This with Sevika? What if there’s a big fight and it’s down to the two of you and maybe you’re already pretty badly injured so she comes stalking over to finish the job and take you out but then she CANT 😫😭💕 OR!! Silco has you hostage and wants her to interrogate you? She’d wind up for a smack or something and just be stopped mid air. Either way, I’d love to see her face journey upon realizing who you are to her bc I imagine she’d be the type that’s convinced she’ll never find/doesn’t have a soulmate and now she has to accept that she is capable and deserving of love >:}

Also in the specific scenarios I can’t remember the number and I’m on mobile but the constant danger one would be so cute with Soma! Or really any of the ladies tbh they’re always into some shit lol I just always want more Soma in my life 💘

I'll write the Soma one later if I get the inspo in my brain for it! But here it is! Sevika for 15! It's a little angsty but also my first time writing for her!!!!

Summary: Telling Silco no is a bad idea, especially when he sends Sevika, his right hand, after you. Though... maybe it's not so bad if she can't actually hurt you?

Pairing: Sevika x Reader

Genre: Soulmate, Not Smut

Potential TW: Violence, some stalking, mentions of killing read

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The fear that struck your heart was not a new one, especially down here in Zaun. Fear was rampant in this place, no one was free from it. The lowest feared as prey, rabbits to be tracked and shot down by hunters. The highest weren’t exempt from it either, though the fear they felt was one born of greed. Of coins and power slipping through their fingers. 

It wasn’t like you intended to get on Silco’s bad side. You weren’t someone of power to be feared by others, you weren’t even really a threat to him. But you told him no. 

No, you wouldn’t serve his men. No, you wouldn’t distribute shimmer through Zaun. No, you wouldn’t back down. You liked Vander. You liked that he cared for his people without trying to beat others down. So what that he worked with Piltover? If it kept people safe, if it kept the upper side’s nose out of your business, so what. He was a father, a guardian. Silco was a monster. 

And you had told his right hand that, right to her face. Her rather handsome face, once found in Vander’s men, now stinking up the door to your establishment. It twists up in anger, in rage.

“What?” She had said, a simple, low voiced threat that had part of you thrumming with a disgusting streak of desire. 

“I said, no, Sevika. I’m not a pusher of some fucked up drug. I’m a fucking florist struggling to get through life down here. I can’t risk that.”

“Silco doesn’t take no for an answer, (Y/N).” She said. “Just because you’re ‘not the type’ doesn’t make you exempt from his requests.”

“He’s not a king. He’s not my boss.” You had responded, slamming the door shut in her face. She stayed there for a few moments, and you had feared for a few long moments that she was going to take that mechanical arm and punch through the door, taking your throat with it. 

Instead, she quietly left, taking her men laughing with her. 

You had thought that that was that. Silco and his men left you alone for a time, and instead, your flowers flourished. It was frustrating. There was an improvement with the shimmer, a double edged sword that you were sure would come crashing down on Zaun any moment. 

Then, Sevika started appearing standing on the other side of the street of your shop. Staring, waiting. Never making a move, never moving closer. It scared you, enough to make you change your routine, but like clockwork, she would adjust within a day. A predator, waiting for her chance to clamp her teeth around the throat of her prey.

So you decided to run. Pack your things and run. You could beg on the streets of Piltover. Hell, maybe you could even leave. Crossing Silco was one thing, but Sevika being the one to take you out? She was going to make it hurt. She was going to make sure that you weren’t found ever again. And you can’t risk it. 

Which is how you found yourself in this situation, sitting in some abandoned closet in some abandoned home, clutching a knife close to your chest as you hear Sevika rip through your belongings. 

You weren’t going to make it out of this alive, that knowledge settling deep in your bones. But you can give it a fighting chance, maybe she might make it quick, knowing you weren’t going to be a coward and die weakly. That’s the one thing you can do in Zaun: die strong.

Even so, a part of you mourned. You never figured out who they were, your soulmate, the one you were destined to love, waiting these long years in the darkness of Piltover. Waited for so long, only to be snuffed out by a mere puppet of a monsterous man who ruled your home. Your fingers tighten around the hilt of the knife as your killer approaches the closet. 

“Come out, (Y/N).” She says, voice low in that threatening way that made your stomach turn. “You know that you can’t fight me. Not with whatever little weapon you have. Silco just wants to talk.” 

“We both know that the talk is going to end up with me dead.” You say. You wish that you could respond with the confidence you had when you got yourself into this mess, all pride and strength. Instead, you just put your foot on the door, offering resistance for whenever she decided to rip it off the hinges. 

“Maybe if you stopped trying both of our patiences,” Sevika growls, punching the door for a threatening emphasis. “you wouldn’t be worried about that. You can either die now, or die if he gives the order.”

“I’m not gonna wait for that, and you know it.” 

She sighs, a deep, tired sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

And the door comes right off its hinges, though your booted foot did nothing to give you time. The wood slings across to the other side of the room, and you start slashing wildly, missing each time before she knocks the dinky knife out of your hand with one flick. A scream escapes your lips, hoping beyond hope someone would take pity on your in your last moments, even if that someone was Sevika. You’re lifted up by your shirt collar and dragged out of the closet, kicking and sobbing for someone to save you. 

Your feet dangle, and without thinking, you wrap your hands around her organic wrist for some kind of subconsious reassurance. The feeling of her skin against your fingers shocks you. She’s human, just like you. but she’s fixing to kill you. She’s killed before. She’s watched the life drain out of so many people and you were no exception. 

Your touch does nothing to her, seemingly. No flinch, no hesitation. Instead, she pulls back her mechanical fist and pulls it back. You close your eyes, tears dripping down your cheeks as you brace for the end. 

But the end doesn’t come. And it doesn’t come for a few minutes actually. So you crack open an eye, looking at her with relief. She must have changed her mind. The look on Sevika’s face however, was one of horror. Her fist was still raised, and you see the muscle of her shoulder straining. Then, you’re gently lowered to the ground, her hand still loosely curled into the fabric of your shirt.

“Ch… Change of mind?” You ask, still terrified out of your wits end. 

“I can’t.” 

“Can’t what? Kill me?”

“Hurt you.” She says. The words seem to slip out of her mouth, like she wanted to stop them before they were spoken. “I can’t hurt you, (Y/N).” 

It takes a moment. At first, you think she’s simply taking pity on you, or maybe she respects you too much after your attempts to prevent your own death. Then it sinks in. Sevika tried to hurt you, but physically, she couldn’t. Which meant…

“I’m your soulmate. We’re… We’re soulmates.” 

Speaking it out loud only seems to upset her further. She shifts, turning her face away and letting her right hand drop from your person. Though she doesn’t move, she doesn’t speak. She just looks… uncomfortable. 

As you stand there, basking in the strange feeling that your soulmate just tried to kill you, that your soulmate was Sevika, you come to realize something about Sevika. You thought her a killer, someone ready to switch sides at any given moment but… now, as she stands there awkward as a teenager, you remember that she might have had expectations about this too. Hopes about soulmates, dreams about them. Was she disappointed? Was she ashamed? 

“What are you going to do?” Is all you’re able to ask, all you can manage to get out. 

She regards you out of the corner of her eye before she runs a hand over her face. “... Let you go. But you need to get out of Zaun. Never come back here.” She says. 

“What? But you’re my… you want me to leave after we just found out???” 

“Obviously!” She snaps. “Silco wants you dead, I can’t afford to fail, but…” She moves as though she’s going to pace, but then stops, like she can’t bring herself to move from you. There’s a pause before she rests a hand on your shoulder. “I never thought I would have one… would have you. You’re a weakness, that insecurity was a weakness. That desire was. It still is. So you’re going to leave Zaun, hell, maybe the whole city. I can’t have you haunting my steps.”

“So I’m a bother to you??” You ask, incredulous at the fact that she’s trying to get you to leave. Angry at the fact that you finally have what you’ve always wanted and now she’s pushing you away despite the fact that maybe now she can protect you.

“You’re a weakness. And a pain in my ass.” Sevika says. “I’m not… I’m not doing this. Just leave.” 

And before you can say anything, she pulls you into a kiss, hard, fast, and passionate. Better than any you’ve had before. And you mourn this bittersweet moment, because you know deep down that she’s right. 

Her loyalty is to Zaun, and if anything comes before that…

She’d have helped kill Vander for nothing, because she would do the same things he did to make sure you were safe.

#sevika x reader #sevika #my writing #arcane x reader #soulmate trope

[illvmiimoved]

Just Helping You Sleep.

Miguel O’Hara x AFAB reader (GN pronouns)

TAGS/INCLUDED: Lactation (not really nsfw though) * Dad!Miguel * Miguel is super smitten * if he’s Spider-Man is up to you * fluff * au where he had Gabriella normally so she isn’t literally dead

A/N: this is my first ever tumblr post so please have mercy LOL. What a first post am I right gang? Anyways happy reading ❤️

New account cause I screwed up 😭

Miguel has had one thing on his mind lately.

Your tits.

It was weird as hell, considering the situation, but it was true. He couldn’t get those damn things out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

He’d be busy at work, then boom. Titty thoughts.

You’d had his baby recently, which didn’t help (and was also the cause of the recent boob thought influxes). The baby was a beautiful girl and light of Miguel’s life, Gabriella.

You were breastfeeding Gabri, which was the main cause. You not only exposed them more often, but it also made your boobs larger than they were originally.

Miguel was honestly pretty ashamed of getting horny of you merely feeding your child, but here he was.

One day, Miguel was sitting on the couch, watching the news with a beer in one hand and Gabriella in the other. She was snug against him and content, ‘till she began crying.

You had raced over to get her, cooing things like “Oh no, what’s wrong, baby?” And “Are Papa’s stupid news stories boring you to tears, my poor thing?”

You swooped the little girl from his arms, and popped your shirt open in record time to feed her. Miguel nearly dropped his beer.

You noticed his staring and asked if he was alright, and he just said something akin to “Yeah, Gabi’s just so cute when she eats.” Which was true, just not the reason he was staring so intently.

The second a drop of milk dribbled down your boob and down towards your torso, Miguel began to sweat in his wife-beater and had to literally leave the room.

Miguel has caught himself having extremely weird thoughts as of late. A lot of the time, he realizes he’s actually envious of his 3 month old daughter for being able to be that up close and personal with your chest.

Another one is when that drip of milk dribbled down your chest, he had to actually stop himself from swiping a finger under it to catch it on the pad of his finger, and taste it.

He had absolutely no idea what was happening.

He currently was sat on yours and his shared bed, doing some work on his iPad. His glasses were sliding down the bridge of his nose, so he pushes them up. You walk in from just finally getting your daughter down, palming your boobs uncomfortably and looking around the room.

He looks up from his tablet, “What’s wrong, querido?”

“I can’t find that stupid breast pump, and Gabriella didn’t empty me before she fell asleep. It fuckin’ hurts.”

He saves his work before shutting his tablet off, getting up from his spot to help you look around for the pump to alleviate your pain.

You sigh exhaustedly, “I swear to god if it’s in her room and I have to go in there and risk waking her up-“

Miguel sits back on the bed when he can’t find it and for some reason, his mind decided that yeah, this was a great thing to blurt out;

“Do you want me to help?”

You stop what you’re doing and turn to look at him comically slowly. You stare at him, “Eh?”

Miguel pales in the face when he realizes what he actually just fucking said, what he suggested.

“I just meant- uhm- Amor I didn’t mean-“

He shut up before he could make things worse than he already had.

You walk over and sit on the edge of the bed, staring at him, “Did you… are you suggesting you drink me dry?”

Miguel lets out a loud groan, “Don’t say it like that, cariño!” He covers his face with his hands.

You just snicker and crawl up to your spot on the bed. You shrug, “We can give it a shot. I don’t see why not. I won’t be able to sleep like this.”

“Are you serious?” He whips his head up to stare at you. His gaze only grows more shocked when you slip your shirt off, over your head.

You lean back and rest your head on the pillow. Miguel could see you really were tired, so he decided to just dive right in, crude as that sounds.

He leant down and latched on, and hoooolllllyyy shit man. It felt so good. It was unbelievable. He’d fantasized about this for weeks on end, and it was finally happening.

Hell, the milk was perfect too. It was in his top 5 beverages for sure. Not because it was from his beautiful and lovely spouse who he loves more than anything, his beautiful and lovely spouse who could breathe and he would propose to you all over again.

You let out a long breath from the relief and tangle your fingers in his hair. He lets out a low groan at the action.

He reaches one of his hands up to squeeze at the breast he wasn’t sucking, and it fucking dribbled out milk. He could have came on the spot. He immediately unlatched from you to catch it on his tongue.

He switches to the other breast, pretty confident he had emptied your other one. He lets out a loud groan against you when you tug his hair slightly. You let out a sigh yourself. It was super pleasant, having a big hunky man sucking you dry.

Miguel kept on working, focused on mostly helping you get to sleep. Sure he was getting unbelievably horny, but he knew you really just wanted your rest. Having a tiny baby who clung to you like Gabriella did was exhausting.

He pulls back and uses his big hands to feel your breasts, making sure they’re empty enough to let you get some comfortable sleep. Once he’s sure they are, he looks up at you with a lovey dovey smile. You hold back a snicker as you raise a thumb to wipe away the remaining milk around his mouth.

“All better?” He asks. You could feel his excitement pressed up against you under the covers and he noticed. He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t worry about it, Hermosa. It’ll go away. Just get your sleep, Mhm?”

You nod sleepily and cuddle against his side. He lets your head rest on his shoulder as he pulls the cover over both of you.

He looks at you with the sweetest gaze, “You’re so beautiful.”

You smile tiredly at him and press a kiss to his cheek, then lay your head back on his shoulder. You felt yourself drifting off to sleep, not as uncomfortable as before.

He mumbles,

“You will let me do that during sex though, right?”

You burst out in giggles, nodding and kissing him.

A/N: this was my first tumblr post ever so please give feedback if you want!! Thanks so much for reading ❤️

+ I did use spanishdict for the Spanish nicknames Miguel used, please lmk if I used them wrong or anything so I can fix them !

(the normal shit, don’t copy or redistribute this pretty please)

#miguel x reader #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #miguel spiderman #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #atsv x reader #miguel fluff #Miguel O’Hara fluff #dad!miguel

[icysinner]

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡: you decide to throw a christmas party, but you realize that’s not as easy as you think.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: comedic dysfunction lol, mentions of alcohol

𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was very fun to write i hope u enjoy xoxo

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 625

it took you and connie three, almost four years of being together to decide to live together. by the second year of living in the house, there was a baby and a ring, so it was safe to say the both of you were comfortable. with the holiday season coming around, the third christmas you’d spend in this home, an idea came to mind to throw a christmas party. there wasn’t a reason it was a bad idea, it was your home, and there was nothing but space for it.

“i mean, if that’s what you wanna do.” connie said, a shrug following quickly afterwards. “that response feels like, no, don’t do it.” you replied, a puzzled look overtaking your face. “if you wanna throw a party, i’m down. i’m also more than happy if you don’t, though.” he said, making you shake your head at him. “i was only weary of doing things like that because kylie was so young, but she’s not a newborn anymore, i feel like there’s no reason why i can’t now.” connie nodded, “if you don’t think it won’t be too much work, do it.”

—

you spent the entire week before the party preparing, planning and buying things just for it. the day of the party finally came, and the decorating part was definitely not as easy as you thought it would be all by yourself. in times like this, you need a helping, creative hand, so definitely not connie.

—

y/n

wyd do u love me

sasha

what do u want

y/n

will u help me set up for party tn

sasha

can i carry kylie the whole time

y/n

be my guest she make my arm hurt

—

sasha was nothing short of a saving grace when it came to helping you decorate for this party, you needed ideas and a push to get them there, not a taller person to help you stick up balloons. (although, it was helpful when you needed it. thank you for your contribution, connie.) “i bought stuff to do a picture backdrop, we only have one empty wall in the whole house.” you said, standing in front of the empty white wall. “shots or no shots? are there any kids coming other than yours?” sasha asked as she filled glass jars with chocolate chips and marshmallows.

“yes, but that never stopped the drinks from going around any other time.” you said with a smile as you set out small red solo cups, “so, shots! i love that.” sasha said as she walked into your kitchen, “i know y’all got some tequila or something in here.” she said as she opened up a cabinet. “above the fridge.” you replied, pulling out one of the packages you bought for the party.

—

“it’s pretty in here, you did a good job, mama.” connie said as he pulled you into a side hug, planting a kiss on your forehead. “thank you, baby. it wouldn’t have been possible without you and your added height to get those balloons on the ceiling.” you said with a small smile. “i like the kid’s table, maybe kylie will finally watch gracie’s corner instead of scandal.” connie said, his comment making you laugh. “nah, she know ball, olivia pope is that girl.” you replied, getting the same laugh out of him.

“how many shots you plan on taking tonight?” connie asked as he looked at the ‘entry fee: one shot’ sign, along with the tower of multiple different kinds of alcohol. “as many as god allows.” you replied as you tied a bow around the shot tower. “i’mma remember you said that when you wake up wrapped in tinsel on the living room floor tomorrow morning.”

#aot #nya writes #aot x black reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #black writblr #aot fanfiction #connie x reader #connie aot #connie attack on titan #connie snk #connie x black reader #snk connie #connie springer #aot connie #connie x black y/n

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

All Up In Your Mind (Dom!Shinso x sub!Black!Reader 18+ One Shot) 

"I'm just tryin' to figure out how I'm gonna make you cum tonight."

Pairing: Dom!Shinsho Hitoshi x sub!Black!Reader 

Synopsis: In which you decide to use Hitoshi’s quirk to your advantage when things get tough in your life and you just need a bit of release. Lucky for you, Hitoshi is an understanding and generous guy, but what happens when he starts to get sick of trying to understand why you put up that wall between them even though you’re visiting him every weekend? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GO AWAY); FWBs to Lovers; Consensual Hypnosis/Brainwashing; Dubcon; Hurt/Comfort; Dumbification; Mutual Oral; Forced Orgasms; Facefucking; Shibari w/ Hitoshi’s scarves; Suspension; Edge Play; Biting; Pussy Spanks/Spanking; Mild Degradation; Praise Kink; Mild DDLG/BDSM Play; Choking; Breeding Kink; Hitoshi Making You Into His Brainless Slut; MULTIPLE Positions; MULTIPLE Orgasms for Reader; Unprotected Sex; Sub Drop; Aftercare 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you! 

Writer’s Note: Yo. My fingers fucking HURT writing this shit. But that's what I get for getting excited writing smut lol I hope y'all like this one though! Thank you so much for the love! -Jazz

**********

It was a dark, cold, windy night.

The streets were empty and slick, the air frigid, and the rain soaking your umbrella as you stood outside of the one place you knew you shouldn’t have been that night. It was the perfect night for anyone to stay inside the warm, secure four walls of their homes, eating takeout and cuddling up on the couch for a movie or a nap. 

Unfortunately for you, you weren’t “everybody”. And the person whose apartment you stood at that late night knew that. That’s why they left the door open for you when you arrived, so you simply pushed it open. Of course, you made sure to tell them beforehand you’d be visiting…at 9 PM on a random weeknight. 

But he didn’t ask questions nor did he protest or refuse your surprise visit. That’s two of the things you liked about him: he didn’t make a fuss and he didn’t ask because he didn’t care. 

After getting into the building and to his floor, you stepped into the warm, dimly-lit apartment immediately, leaving your wet umbrella to dry by the door.

He had a nice home: mute gray walls and furniture with yellow and black throw pillows for decoration in the living room; a dining area with a large redwood table and chairs; a marbled kitchen with a mini-bar, an island, and Stirling steel appliances; a private training room across from the living room that was currently closed, the doors locked. Upstairs were his bedroom, study, and a few other rooms you knew were guest rooms. 

It was very hospitable and cozy-like despite his cool, dark demeanor and look. He knew he had a very intimidating aura to him, especially with his quirk and that blank look that was constantly on his face. 

And then there were his eyes: those violet orbs that seemed to stare into you when you first met him, inspecting you, drilling you, examining your every move. He seemed to know your past, present, and future with just one look as he trailed over your form across the bar three months ago when you first met. It frightened you yet thrilled you all at the same time. How wrong you were taking him up on his offer for dinner when he slipped you his number after hours of conversation and heated flirting. 

Which is what got you here now, two months later. “Hello?” you called into the empty living room. You looked around the corner, staring into the darkened dining room and kitchen. The scent of lavender was all around you, making you feel calm and uneasy all at the same time. 

“Hello?” you called again. Only silence answered you. You rubbed your arm nervously. Maybe he was trying to play a trick on you, jump out and scare you like the Boogeyman he was. “Shinso?” you called again, this time up the winding, polished wooden staircase. “You here?” 

“Hold up!” His deep, raspy, and very effective voice rang out from upstairs. You sighed in relief, glad this wasn’t a prank. 

You decide to sit on the couch as you wait for him to finish up with whatever he was doing. Finally, after you finished touching up your hair and gloss in your phone camera, the man of the hour comes bounding down the steps. You’d always been taken by his appearance, but now that you hadn’t seen him in two weeks, you were even more enraptured by him. 

He was a nice-looking guy, and the dark circles under his eyes didn’t take away the fact that he was fine as hell. His undercut hairstyle fit his face well and seemed to make the tuffets of lilac-purple hair look soft to the touch.

He was very tall–about six foot something–and had a nice, slim build but still had enough muscle power to move the way he did during missions. As the underground pro-hero Mindjack, it was important. He had the muscles to prove it, and you’ve felt them for yourself. Just thinking about the impressive ripple of abs and pectorals hiding under his clothes made your mouth water. 

He had on a black muscle tee and sweats that you gratefully and unabashedly eyed, your eyes going straight to his groin to get a look at the dick print. The man was packing. They always said big feet were indications–and shit, did Hitoshi have some big ass feet.

Not to mention his hands-so big, veiny, and tattooed. His finger ink was one of your favorite parts about him. You loved how they looked in your mouth whenever he slid them between your lips while he was balls-deep in your– 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Was finishin’ up a call. Denki said the power downtown went out and a bunch of cable towers fell, so he went to help.” He leaned against the banister, one foot kicked up to cross over his ankle. “Wasn’t the work of a villain or nothin’.” 

You nodded, sitting rigidly on the couch with your thighs clamped together tight. “That’s good to hear.” Your voice was breathy and soft; an indication of your nervousness and shyness. You felt weird sitting here after not being here for so long, especially under Hitoshi’s ever-so-intense gaze. 

You suddenly regretted wearing the clothes you picked out for tonight: a nice low-cut blouse that showed off the mere outline of your bra cubs and jeans that hugged your ass just right. Though you wore a jacket underneath them, you felt like Hitoshi could see right through it. Could see right through you.  

“Want a drink?” he asked, crossing his tatted arms over his broad chest. “Water? Wine?” You looked at him from across the room. He didn’t come near you. He stayed promptly posted to the banister, giving you space. “You know what I like,” you replied. 

He nodded once. “Wine it is then. I’ve got Moscato in there.” He walked himself into his kitchen on his long legs, making wide strides as he did. Once he was out of earshot and rummaging around in his kitchen, you sat back against the pillows and relaxed, now alone with your thoughts. 

‘Da fuck are you doing?’ you thought. ‘You need to go home. Now.’

You knew that, logically, you’d regret this visit. You hadn’t seen the man in two weeks and the last time you were there didn’t end too well. He was too pushy and pried too much, which you told him as you hurried to put on your clothes despite your body aching and cutting aftercare short. 

“All I’m askin’ you is why you’re always here when you don’t even stay,” Hitoshi had scoffed, scowling at you from his bedside. He was still naked, coated in sweat. The long third arm that swayed between his muscled thighs was flaccid. 

“You know why,” you huffed as you pulled your panties up over your thighs still dripping with cum. Usually, Hitoshi would get the rag and wipe you down, also give you a nice oil massage to work out the aches of the binds on your wrists and having your body twist this way and that. But not tonight. 

“Yeah, I know why,” he replied curtly. “That’s why I’m askin’. You’re here more than you’re at your own place–” 

“That’s not true!” you protested, whipping around to glare at him. 

“–and you go out of your way to always be here,” he continues. “Always fuckin’ up my plans to have your way because you had a bad day.” He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. “We’ve been doin’ this shit for three months, and yet you’re so afraid to open up to me and–” 

“And what?” you snap, flinging a pillow at him. He catches it with one hand. “And what?” you repeat, louder and angrier now. How dare he put you on blast like this?

“Why do I have to tell you why I like you using your quirk and controlling my body? You already know what my pussy feels like, Shinso. Isn’t that being open enough?” 

Hitoshi didn’t like that. His eyes flared with irritation, making your stomach flip. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, trying to calm himself down before he flipped his shit. “And maybe I’m askin’ you because I wanna get to fuckin’ know you. Maybe I’m tired of this FWB shit.” 

Your eyes widened and your entire body froze as his words washed over you. He never moved from his seat. He only stared at you, assessing you, wondering what you’d do next. You were hoping this wouldn’t happen: that he’d begin to grow feelings for you…and you for him. But you’d never tell him that. You couldn’t because that’d be opening a new door that you weren’t ready for. 

Hitoshi looked at you with those pleading eyes. Those eyes that have seemed to crawl into your dreams and haunt you. “I want more with you, Y/N,” he said calmly, your name sounding like sugar on his lips. 

You ran your hands through your hair, frustrated. You had decided to embark on this friends-with-benefits type thing with Hitoshi for a reason: to not feel or think (hence using his quirk to your advantage). 

To not make things complicated like relationships always seemed to be for you. To indulge in the pleasures of sex without being in love or caring for one another…well, that second part wasn’t true. And you knew it. 

You cared deeply about Hitoshi, and you hated it. Why couldn’t things ever work out for you? Why did everything have to be so damn complicated all the time? “Shinsho, I can’t,” you firmly stated. “I told you before: I don’t want a relationship. I don’t wanna be your girlfriend or your sub or whatever you want from me. I thought you’d respect that.” 

“You’re talkin’ about respect?” he cackled, the sound icky to you. “You hit me up at all hours of the night, no matter if it’s fuckin’ 2 AM  on a weeknight, come over to my house, and then leave once you use me up, and wanna talk about respect?” 

“I’m not using you!” you shouted, tears flaring in your eyes. 

He didn’t budge. “Really?” he asked, fixing you with an accusatory stare. “But even knowing this, I never judged you. And I’ll never judge you, Y/N. I told you: it ain’t my style. But…” 

He sighed, running his hands through his purple hair. “But I can’t keep BSing myself like this. If I’m to take your body and your mind like that every time we have sex, I need us to be closer.” 

He stood up from his seat and you moved towards the door, backing away from him. He looked hurt by this. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” you huffed, quickly moving to collect your shit from his bedroom floor. “Maybe we just need a break from this or something so we can figure shit out.” 

Words flew out of your mouth to try and soothe the situation as you threw on your clothes one by one. “And you’re a great guy, Shinso. You’re sexy, funny, and real. You’ll find someone who can really take care of you.” You walked towards the door, but as your hand went for the knob, you turned to stare at him. His hurt gaze made you want to stay, but your pride stopped you. “Just not me,” you whispered, and then you were gone. 

You were sure you’d broken his heart. You were so sure he’d refuse to see you when you texted him tonight. But surprisingly, he agreed and now here you were. And there he was with two chilled glasses and a bottle of Moscato. You watched as he poured you a glass and then handed it to you. “Thanks.” 

He nodded and proceeded to sit next to you. The cushion dipped from his weight. He sat at a good distance from you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and his legs stretched out. “You cold?” he asked, noticing the goose pimples on your skin. “I’ve got a blanket too.” 

You shook your head. If only he knew those chills were from him. A few seconds of tense silence settled between you as you sipped your wine and tried to think of things to say. “Sooo wanna tell me what you’re doin’ here on such a lovely night?” he asked sarcastically. “You weren’t too specific in your texts. I’m suspecting it’s pretty important for you comin’ over here in such weather.” 

He looked at you as he sipped his wine, one foot kicked up on his knee. He sat casually and loosely, acting as if you were just two friends hanging out. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 

“I said I needed to talk,” you replied, but it sounded like bullshit even in text. 

“And do you?” he pushed, raising his pierced eyebrow at you. 

You held his gaze though you just wanted to look away. The truth was you needed him. All of him. You wanted to know for a fact that you were doing the right thing by asking him if the option to be more was still on time because goddammit, you hated life without him.

Those two weeks were hell for you. Not just because of the lack of amazing, other-worldly sex, but because you didn’t have him as a pick-me-up. Even a text from him throughout the day was enough to get you through work or dinner with the parents where your mom would drill you about not being engaged yet. 

And more than anything, you missed him. You missed being near him, beside him, under him. You wanted to hide in his apartment, in his bed, forever. You felt safe with him, even when you gave him the control you were seeking in your life in every scene you two had together. In the four walls of his bedroom and in his arms, you felt at home. 

But how the fuck could you tell him that? You couldn’t. And you wouldn’t. You were here for just one last time. You knew logically that this would end badly, so why not stop it before it goes completely to shit? 

Hitoshi stared at you now, a smirk toying on his lips. “C’mon now, Y/N. We both know you never talk when you’re here…at least in the way you’re speakin’ of.” You flushed under your jacket, feeling embarrassed under his teasing yet hot and bothered by it. 

He tilted his head to the side, looking sexier than ever. “Whatchu want?” he asked softly, his voice a deep rumble. You swallowed the lump in your throat as your pussy clenched involuntarily at his words. “You know what I want,” you say barely above a whisper. 

Hitoshi sat up straighter and put his glass to the side. “I wanna hear you say it though,” he said, his voice dipping into very dangerous territory. “You know me by now, baby: I’m a fuckin’ asshole.” You looked away from him to avoid melting under his hot gaze, sipping your wine. “That, you are,” you murmured into your glass. 

Hitoshi chuckled at your mouthy response. “And from what I recall from your last visit,” he continued, “and our last conversation, you said you wanted to take a break from this because it made you feel too ‘open’.” 

You simmered under your jacket, slightly irked at his way of knowing you inside and out. “I had a shitty two weeks, okay?” you blurted out. “Work is stressing me out, my mom keeps pestering me about not havin’ a man, my money ain’t right, I’m tired of dealing with people day in and day out…” 

You sighed, turning to face him and your truth. “I needed you, okay?” you confessed. You cringed slightly at the neediness in your tone, but dammit, you needed him to understand.

“I want you, Shinso,” you say softly–a confession. His eyes suddenly flashed with something, but you couldn’t identify it too well. “Don’t you want me, too?” 

You placed your glass on the coffee table in front of you and peeled your jacket off of your body. Hitoshi watched you, never looking away from your face. And never touching you. At this point, you’d be in his arms and naked, but he never even reached a hand out for you. You bit your lip harshly, feeling dumb. “Do you want me to leave?” you asked. 

He glared at you, irritation on his face. “You know I fuckin’ don’t.” Now, you were irritated too. Why was he playing you like this? “Then what’s the problem?” you asked curtly. “You’ve never had an issue with this before, so why now?” 

Hitoshi’s eyes trailed over you, but not in a sexual manner. He was analyzing you, peeling you apart. Quickly, he stood and startled you with how fast he was. You watched silently as he walked to the window overlooking the city below. The rain outside pitter-pattered against the roof and dripped down the windows. 

He stood with his back to you, watching the rain fall. “What are we, Y/N?” he asked, sounding oh-so sad. You blinked at him, not expecting this question. “Sorry?” 

“I said what are we?” he asked once more. He turned to you and looked pained. It hurt you to see him hurt. “We’ve been doin’ this dance for three months now. You come over here, I fuck you, you go home, we flirt, we laugh, we joke, act like we’re not fucking in public but in private, it’s something totally different.” 

You shrugged your shoulders despite yourself. “Easy: we’re fuckbuddies.” 

“Naw,” Hitoshi replied, shaking his head. “Fuckbuddies don’t laugh and joke. They don’t feed each other off the plate or know about each others' lives like that. They don’t even cuddle. We’re way past fuckbuddies and you know it, so why are you so afraid of whatever this could be?” 

“You’re talkin’ crazy,” you scoffed though you knew he was right. “When we agreed to do this, I specifically told you I want no strings attached. No feelings. Just sex.” 

“But this isn’t just sex, Y/N,” Hitoshi protested. “I’m using my quirk on you. I’m brainwashing you. And we’re indulging in BDSM-type play.” “You’re okay with all that but me asking you questions about you is too much?” He squinted at you accusingly. 

Your body felt hot with shame and embarrassment. Fuck, he was right, about all of it. But your pride wouldn’t let you give in that easily.

“Because there are no questions in this, Shinso!” you snapped, standing up too. “It’s bad enough I’m asking you to brainwash me, tie me up, and fuck me without a driver at the wheel. I don’t need you to ask questions or try to dig deeper to make this into something it won’t ever be.” 

Hitoshi started at you blankly and that pissed you off even more. “I don’t come here for that shit,” you hiss. “I come here to get my release and my nut. That’s it! You don’t need to know why I come to you to feel good or why I like being brainwashed and used. That’s none of your business.” 

“It is if I’m the one doin’ it,” he grumbles. 

“What the fuck do you want from me?!” you bellow, startling yourself. But Hitoshi barely even blinked. For a while, the two of you stood there in silence, Hitoshi’s living room now a battlefield. 

You take a moment to compose yourself. Now you really knew tonight had to be the last time. “I told you before that I’m not ready for another romantic relationship, and you understood that,” you huff. “So if you want this to stop, just tell me now so I don’t waste my time.” 

Hitoshi didn’t say anything. He kept his lips clamped, eyes trained on you. “I’m here because only you can make me stop stressing for a moment,” you confessed. “Only you can make me feel so good. So good I forget me for a while.” 

You stepped closer to him, eyes locked with his. “Just help me forget me tonight, Shinso,” you softly pled. “That’s all I ask. And if you don’t want this, say it now and I’ll–” 

He cut you off with a chuckle, shaking his head at you. “Who said anything about me not wanting this?” he asked. Suddenly, his hand was trailing down your arm, sending chills in his wake. “That’s not the problem right now, doll. I'm just tryin' to figure out how I'm gonna make you cum tonight."

At that moment, all of the tension in the air vanished. Now all that was left was the lust and need you were both feeling. Your walls vanished as you threw yourself at him, going to wrap your arms around him and kiss those lips you’ve been dreaming about. 

Hitoshi stopped you by taking your wrists and pushing you down onto the couch. You fell onto your back with a gasp, but before you could process what just happened, he was on top of you and kissing you silly. His kiss wasn’t nice–it was desperate; thirsty; rough. He gripped your chin as he hovered over you, one hand placed above your head to hold himself up as his lips bruised yours. His stubble tickled your chin, imagining him giving you rugburn in the right places. 

You moaned into the kiss, giving him a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted of the Moscato and mint gum–something he chewed whenever he was bored or stressed to keep himself occupied. You never forgot this little fact. So many little facts and quirks about him lived in your head rent-free. You wanted to tell him that too. 

But not yet. Not right now. You went to grasp his shoulders, but he stopped you by taking your wrists and pinning them above your head. His lips left yours and he proceeded to kiss you all over: your neck, across your jawline, your collarbone, and chest. His kisses were intoxicating, each one a drug to you. You moaned and writhed against his iron grip, your eyes fluttering closed. How you had missed this. “‘Toshi,” you whispered. “Please.” 

“Please what, doll?” he murmured against your skin. “You want something, you gotta ask me.” His lips trailed back up to your neck to nibble the tender flesh there, and then give you a bite. You gasped as his teeth nicked you, the sharp pain sending sparks of pleasure into your core. He did the same thing again to another place on your neck, sucking gently on the skin. No doubt he was giving you hickeys as punishment. 

You found your voice despite the arousal you felt that was quickly overtaking you. “C-Can you…” You licked your lips, trying again: “Can you take me upstairs?” you coherently asked. He looked at you from between the valley of your breasts, and you realized just then one of his hands was crawling up your blouse.

“Please, sir?” you asked, putting on your best breathy, soft, 'fuck me' voice that you knew drove him insane. 

He grinned at you, the sight of it too beautiful for words. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed. “Of course, I can, gorgeous.” He leaned over to peck you on the lips. The kiss was so wet that a string of saliva stuck between your lips as he pulled away. “Lemme just take care of the wine and I’ll meet you upstairs. You know what to do, right?” 

You nodded. “Yes, sir, I do.” Because you did. The very first night he brought you into his bedroom (which was your first “date” that he insisted on taking you on), he made the rules very clear: 

Whenever you come into his bedroom, you’re to be naked and on your knees waiting for him by the bed with your hands flat on your lap and head down. 

Always answer when asked a question. 

When a scene is in place, always call Hitoshi “sir”, “daddy”, or whatever he sees fit (he usually loves being called “sir” or “daddy”) 

Never ever forget the traffic light system or a safe word. 

Finally, never ever cum without his permission. If you do, there will be consequences, usually either being edged to the point of tears or denied an orgasm if you don’t apologize. 

Hitoshi nodded at you, happy with your obedience. “Good girl. Now get that ass upstairs and you’d better be naked by the time I get up there.” You nodded and he let you get up but gave you a smack on your ass as you lept upstairs, biting back a smile as you did. 

He left you alone to your own devices for about ten minutes, giving you more than enough time to get ready. You slipped into his bedroom and breathed in the scent of vanilla and lavender that you’d grown to love so much. The bed he had was one of those king-sized ones covered in a black comforter and plush pillows. It came with four poles that served as bedposts protruding from the floor and nearly reaching the ceiling, giving the bed an almost medieval feel.

The lamp on his nightstand lit the bedroom up in a warm glow, accompanying you as you stripped. You took off your blouse and pants; your bra and panties; and your shoes and socks. Not one article of clothing was left on you. Hitoshi liked you completely bare. 

You then folded all of the clothes up on the chair near his gaming desk that sat near the door. Then you walked over to the bed and knelt on the soft carpeted floor near it, hands flat on your thighs. But you didn’t look down yet. Instead, you looked up. High above the bed was a large, oval-shaped mirror stuck to the ceiling, one that you’d watched Hitoshi fuck you in many times. And you’d watch him do it again. 

You suddenly heard his footsteps and your heart began to tremble. Quickly, you ducked your head down, now staring down at your hands on your thighs. Hitoshi came into the room and closed the door behind him. You heard the door click shut and his bare feet against the carpet. You didn’t look up, even as he stood in front of you. All you saw were his big feet and the legs of his sweats. 

He knelt down to your height so he was level with you and tilted your chin up to look at him. He was now shirtless; all bare skin and muscles you wanted to touch. “So,” he purred, his voice deep and raspy. “my little kitty wants to play tonight with me, hm?” 

The pet name made your pussy clench. “Yes, sir,” you softly answered. “And maybe use your scarves this time to tie me up.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes widened an inch at your request. He’d always used either rope or satin ties to tie you up if not handcuffs to lock you to the bedpost. This was the first time you’d asked him to use his own scarves for a scene, but you’d wanted it for a long time. It seemed more personal and more intimate to you than using rope or ties. “Fuck, you’re freaky,” he chuckled, “but I knew that when I met you.” 

He put his hands out for you and you took them, allowing him to help you stand. “Fine then; we’ll have it your way. But you know seein’ you tied up so nice in my scarves is gonna make me so hard, right?” His eyes darkened with lust and anticipation. 

You felt the same. You could feel yourself shivering impatiently, wanting to get to the part where he ties you up, brainwashes you, and fucks you stupid already. “Yes, sir.” 

He raised his pierced brow. “And what will happen when my dick gets hard for you? You’ve gotta take responsibility, don’t you?” He took your hand and placed it on his groin where he felt his very hard, very thick dick in his sweatpants. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him. “Y-Yes, sir,” you softly stuttered.  

He smiled sweetly and kissed you once. “Up you go, then.” He chuckled at your squeak of surprise as he scooped you up into his strong arms, holding you close to his chest. You felt small and safe in his arms and allowed yourself to relax as he walked you over to the bed. 

He placed you down gingerly before going to the drawers in the tall dresser on the left of his bed. Those were his goodies drawers. He had every single toy and tool in there related to sex or BDSM: rope and ties; blindfolds and cuffs; floggers and whips; nipple clamps; dildos and vibes; you name ‘em.  Every time he went into a drawer, you felt pure excitement for what was to come, not knowing what it would be. 

You watched as he dipped his hand into the drawer at the top and pulled something out. When he turned to you, he showed you the goody: his scarves. Excitement, anticipation, and a twinge of nervousness filled your gut. He came to the side of the bed, staring down at you. “Tell me your lights.” 

The traffic light system. “Green, yellow, and red,” you answered clearly. "Green means I'm good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

He grinned with pride. “Glad you ain’t forget.” He bent down to kiss you before taking one of your wrists. “I’m gonna tie your wrists and ankles for now. Then we can move onto shibari and suspension later on if you want.” He then got on top of you, straddling you. “Is this what you want, baby?” 

You looked from his lust-filled gaze to his toned stomach, pecs, and dick print right in your face. “Yes, sir,” you answered, genuine and wanton. You placed a hand on his stomach, loving the way your skin tones contrasted and how your dark nail polish looked against his warm skin. “Please tie me up with your scarves.” 

Hitoshi growled low in his throat, lust overtaking him. He wasted no time tying your wrist to one of the bedposts with his scarf. He worked quickly and expertly, tying the knot enough so you weren’t in pain but you weren’t getting out either. “Good?” he asked. You nodded and he went on to the next. He did this until he finished tying your ankles to the bedposts below. 

And then there you were: naked and played out like a dessert plate. And Hitoshi was looking at you like one. “You look so fuckin’ good,” he hummed appreciatively. He swooped down to kiss your lips and then nuzzled your breasts, pressing a kiss to each hardened peak of your nipple. You bite your lip at the sensations as he trailed down to your tummy, his hands caressing your sides gently. “Like my perfect lil’ doll,” he cooed against your stomach. “Not quite yet though. Haven’t prepped you yet.” 

You shivered when he said the word “prepped”. That usually meant making you cum your brains out before he proceeded to use his quirk on you. You waited patiently (though you didn’t really have a choice) as Hitoshi went to grab your favorite kind of lube–made with a hint of aloe vera, strawberry-flavored, and warmed with physical touch. 

He then walked back over and knelt between your thighs, his violet eyes locked with yours as he squirted some of the lube onto his fingers. He then reached down and began to slowly slide his fingers over your pussy lips and clit, never dipping inside you. It quickly drove you insane. His feather-light touch against the most sensitive part of you had your toes curling and your eyes fluttering closed. 

Hitoshi always took his sweet time pleasing you, mostly because he loved seeing you come undone. And you knew he did. “Like that, kitty?” he asked, eyeing you from between the V of your thighs.

He then slid his fingers between your pussy lips and your mouth fell open. “Uh-huh,” you moaned out, unable to form the words to speak as the pleasure increased. 

Hitoshi played with your pussy for a while until neither one of you could tell the difference between the lube and your juices anymore. You were ready. Slowly, he dove in to enjoy his meal, tongue out and ready to indulge in your taste. As soon as his hot, wet mouth and lips wrapped around your clit, you were throwing your head back and pulling against your restraints. “Fuck,” you softly moaned to the ceiling. 

Hitoshi took that as his cue to keep going, lapping at your pussy like a starving man. He alternated between short flicks of his tongue and long strokes with the flattest part of his tongue that he knew exactly how to work. He moaned as he did it, the lewd sounds making you gush even more around his mouth. “You taste so fuckin’ good, kitty,” he groaned into your pussy. “Could stay between your legs for days and never get tired.” 

You whimpered at his words, still pulling at the rope ties. He slid his hands underneath your ass to angle your hips up before slowly sliding his index finger inside the wet depths of your pussy. You moaned his name and threw your head back as he began to stroke in and out of you, angling up to rub his palm against your clit. After some stimulation with one finger, he added another. 

You bucked and writhed, moaned, and whined at the pleasurable feeling of him fingerfucking your cunt. How you had missed this feeling. Especially when you felt that familiar of an orgasm begin to rise in your core. It only got stronger when Hitoshi wrapped his lips around your clit again as he fingerfucked you, gradually going faster. “‘Toshi!” you mewed, writhing in his grasp. “‘Toshi, p-please let me cum! Please!” 

“Not until you say you’re sorry,” he growled, still suckling and fucking away. “Say you’re sorry for bein’ a little fuckin’ brat. Say you’re sorry for makin’ me miss you for two weeks.” He stared at you from between your legs and slowed his movements. As he did, the feeling of your rising orgasm began to fade. “Say it.” 

A desperate whine left your lips. You needed to cum. You needed to. “I-I’m sorry!” you cry out. “I’m so, so sorry, ‘Toshi! Please let me cum!” That pleased Hitoshi. He granted your wish and proceeded to stroke your walls faster as he sucked and licked gently on your clit. 

He held you down with one hand, his hips securely pinning you to the mattress even as you writhed against the bed. You were close. So, so close. But when he spat on your pussy and slurped that shit back up, that set you all the way off. “‘Bout to cum!” you gasped. “I’m about to…” 

When your orgasm finally hit you, you barely realized it. It rose too quickly for your brain to process, but when it did, it slammed into you and filled your body with warmth. Your voice cracked on your moans and whines as you gushed all over Hitoshi’s fingers and mouth, tears pricking your eyes.

This is it. This is what you needed. Hitoshi knew it too. “Thaaat’s a good lil’ girl,” he chuckled into your pussy. “Cum all over my face.” 

He continued to stroke and suck on your pussy as you rode your orgasm out. He lapped up each drop until no trace of your cum or lube was on your inner thighs. All that was left was his saliva. When you were drained and completely exhausted, he finally stopped and sat up to look down at you. His lips shined with his spit and your cum, his own cum-drunk smile on his face. 

Though you were sedated by your orgasm, you were beyond tired or satisfied. You wanted him. Needed him. “I’m ready now, Hitoshi,” you tell him breathlessly. “I want you to use your quirk now.” Hitoshi stared down at you with lust-blown pupils and a smile that sent shivers down your spine. “Lie back then, baby.” 

You did as he instructed, getting comfortable against the plush pillows. He sat up on his knees, looking down at you with such adoration that you flushed. “Good?” he asked. You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Alright, baby; close your eyes and take a deep breath in for me.” 

You, once again, did as instructed: you closed your eyes and took a deep breath into your lungs. “And out,” he instructed. You breathed out, the small circles he stroked against your thigh helping. 

“Clear your head of everything you’ve ever known. All you know now is me for tonight. Trust that I’ve got you and I’d never do anything without your consent or permission. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”  

It was weird, but his words brought tears to your eyes as well as relaxed you. It was the fact that he truly cared about you to do something like this. Despite all of your bullshit and excuses, here he was, making you feel good at your request. And you wanted to do the same for him. You opened your eyes to get a good look at him, hoping he’d see the utter gratitude in your eyes. “Yes, daddy,” you replied softly. 

That was the trigger for Hitoshi. First, you were feeling him press a passionate, wet kiss to your lips. Then you felt your body seize and then go limp as he activated his quirk. Your brain went blank, all thoughts ceasing to exist. Your eyes fell closed on instinct, catapulting you into darkness. You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into your body, almost as if you were inside looking out. You knew it was your conscious brain taking the backseat as nothing but Hitoshi filled your head now, your mind a blank canvas for his creation. 

The only way you could describe being brainwashed by Hitoshi was bliss. A bliss that was so good that it made you uncomfortable every time it happened. You were scared at how good and free you felt being controlled by someone else, but another part of you told you to give in; that everything would be alright. 

“Y/N, honey?” Hitoshi said, sounding far away. It was like you were underwater and he was standing above the waves, calling for you. “Baby, can you hear me?” He sounded closer and clearer now as the fog in your brain cleared. 

“Yes,” you tried to answer, but you physically couldn’t move your mouth. Not without Hitoshi’s commands to speak. 

“Answer me, baby,” he commanded, his voice now crystal clear and strong. “Can you hear my voice?” You felt his rough yet warm hand on your cheek, stroking it softly. 

“Yes,” you heard yourself reply, your lips forming the words. “Yes, I can hear you.” He sighed, sounding relieved. “How do you feel?” You suddenly felt his hand slide down your stomach to your inner thighs where his fingers played with your pussy now soaked in your arousal again. When the fuck did you get wet again? 

“Good,” you whimpered, toes curling as he rubbed your clit in gentle circles. “Mmm, I bet you do; look at how wet this pussy is. And you just came! Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” You must’ve been too slow to answer because he gave your pussy a hard, open-palmed smack. You gasped and your body jumped at the sting. 

“Aren’t you?” he growled into your ear.

Like a switch being flipped, you quickly answered him. “Y-Yes, sir, I’m a greedy little slut!” you whimpered, your thighs shaking. Hitoshi chuckled, his hot breath fanning your face. “But you’re my greedy lil’ slut.” He leaned in close, his lips at your ear. “And you know what greedy sluts get?” 

Your pussy gushed and clenched around nothing at the feeling of his soft lips against the most sensitive part of your ear. “N-No,” you stuttered. 

“They get punished,” he whispered and suddenly, he was untying your ankles and wrists from the bedposts. Before you could process what he was doing, you were on your stomach and being hoisted onto your knees after he flipped your ass over. You could only gasp as he did, his strength incredible. How he was able to throw you around so effortlessly always turned you on. 

He came up behind you and immediately smacked you on the ass. Hard. The sound of his hand hitting your ass cheek was sharp and filled the air along with your grunt of surprise. “This is your punishment,” he growled. “For being a greedy lil’ brat.” SMACK! He spanked you again, this time on the opposite cheek. You hissed at the pain, but your pussy jumped, loving the feeling. 

“This is for making me wait for two fuckin’ weeks,” he growled. SMACK! 

“Makin’ my cock wait for you.” SMACK! 

“Can’t even focus on my work ‘cause of your ass.” 

SMACK! SMACK! “What do you have to say for yourself, huh, slutty girl?” 

SMACK! “Tell me!” he ordered. “Say you’re sorry!” SMACK! 

“I-I’m sorry!” you heard yourself cry out, your voice cracking. “I’m sorry I left you waiting, sir! I’m sorry I’m such a needy little slut for you! I-I just missed you so bad!” You were practically in tears now, your body twitching at the harsh sting from his spankings on your asscheeks. 

“Fuck!” Hitoshi grunted, impatient, and just as needy as you. He quickly swooped down and planted your ass in wet kisses and massages, easing the pain away. “Such a good girl,” he whispered against your asscheek. “That’s enough pain for now. Time to shower my baby in pleasure.” 

“T-Thank you, sir,” you stuttered out, wanting to push your ass back into his adoring mouth, but his quirk’s hold on you didn’t allow you. You could only moan and whimper as his lips trailed down your ass to your pussy. His hands pried your cheeks apart to get good access to your sobbing wet cunt and proceeded to lick, suck, and kiss you there. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the sensations of him eating out your overly-sensitive pussy, his tongue moving over your clit.

“‘T-Toshi,” you mewled. “Please.” 

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, taking a break from eating you out to rub at your flit. You cried aloud at the feeling, your toes curling as sparks of pleasure shot into your core. “Tell me,” he commanded. “Tell me what you want.” 

“To cum,” you moaned. “Please, daddy, make me cum again.” You heard Hitoshi chuckle darkly before pushing you down with one hand so the side of your face was in the mattress. Face down, ass up–his favorite position. “Goddamn,” he swore. “I’ll never get tired of this shit.” 

Your body trembled excitedly, bracing itself for the feeling of Hitoshi’s tongue and mouth on your pussy. But he surprised you when he pressed his open palm against your pussy and smacked you against your clit. You gasped, your body jumping in response. He did it again, and again and again, the sweet mixture of pain and pleasure too much for you. “Hitoshiiii,” you whined. “Please! C-Can’t…can’t…” 

“Ah-ah, baby,” he chuckled. “I want you to cum just like this. With my hand smackin’ that clit.” He pressed a kiss to your ass as he smacked up against your clit again, even giving you some nice strokes with his palm. “This is what you deserve. You deserve to cum just like this.” 

Your mouth fell open into a silent, shocked O as another orgasm began to make its appearance. This had never happened before. He was making you cum with just pussy smacks? This man was a demon. “Hitoshi, please!” you practically screamed. “Please let me cum, baby, please!” 

“Tell me whose pussy this is then,” he ordered his voice a growl that made your stomach flip. “Tell me who owns this pussy and I’ll let you cum again.” 

You could barely think or speak, the dawn of your new orgasm mingling with the sedation of your initial orgasm rendering you useless. Your muscles were slowly turning into mush as he assaulted your pussy so good your toes curled. “Y-You,” you softly moan. 

A sharp smack against your ass made you yelp. “Sorry, baby; didn’t get that,” Hitoshi said. “Say it a little louder for me.” You practically sobbed and he laughed at your pitiful, pathetic state. “C’mooon, you can do better than that.” When all you did was whine, he hummed in disappointment and brought his hand away from you. “Guess you don’t wanna cum then.” 

The ache of need in your core made you downright insane. You needed to cum again. There’s no way he could edge you like this. “Please!” you babble deliriously. “You own this pussy! You own all of me, Hitoshi, please just let me fuckin’ cum!” 

A fire flashed behind Hitoshi’s eyes at your begs and pleads for mercy. He pressed his palm up to your clit and proceeded to move it up and down, pressing into it with the exact pressure you needed. “You wanna fuckin’ cum?” he growled. “You wanna cum for me, slut, huh?” You nodded frantically, your mind quickly going blank from the pleasure. “Fuckin’ do it then. Give it to me, baby.” 

Then he stopped, his palm still against your clit, and whispered a command in your ear that echoed in your mind: “Cum.” 

Just like a puppet being controlled by strings, you did as Hitoshi said. Your body reacted immediately, your back arching and your pussy spasming as you came all over his hand. And fuck, did you cum hard. You were seeing stars and heard bells ringing in your ears as you screamed at the top of your lungs, your throat going raw from using it too much. When the orgasm finally ebbed, you slumped onto the mattress in utter exhaustion, muscles going to mush and your mind a puddle. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, your chest rising and falling with each deep gulp of air. 

You must’ve passed out for a short time because suddenly, Hitoshi was beside you and you don’t remember feeling him there. “Baby?” he whispered in your ear, stroking your hair back from your face. “Can you hear me, darlin’? Can you look at me?” Your eyes fluttered open and you saw his handsome face peering at you. “You good?” he asked, looking worried. 

Good wasn’t even a word you could’ve used to describe this feeling. Your body felt loose and relaxed, your pussy aching in the best possible way. “Y-Yeah,” you giggled softly. “Yeah, I’m good, sir.” 

Hitoshi looked relieved and pecked your sweaty temple. “You wanna keep going?” he asked. You nodded slowly, not wanting to stop tonight. “Lemme finish tyin’ you up then. Let me know at any time if it’s too much.” Once again, you nodded, knowing most of it was because he was bringing sheer obedience and compliance out of you with his quirk. However, you wanted this and he knew it. 

Slowly, he sat you up and got the rest of his scarves from the nightstand before proceeding to tie you up with them shibari style. He first had you sit with your knees underneath your butt and your hands behind your back. Then he started to tie you up with his soft, long scarves that felt like silk against your skin. He tied your wrists first and then connected that knot to your arms which connected to the one wrapped around your neck. He moved onto your legs and ankles, tying them so they were pressed tightly together. Then he moved onto your breasts, covering them in his scarf as he secured each bind. 

When he was finally done, he sat back to look at his handiwork. “Tell me how it feels,” he ordered, though his tone was soft. You could hardly move except for turning your head or rocking from side to side. You were completely restricted, and you loved every minute of it. “Like a tight hug,” you answered breathlessly, saying the first thing that came to mind. 

Hitoshi nodded, happy with that answer. He stared at you for a moment, his stare heated and filled with molten lust that made you flush. “I can’t tell you how fuckin’ good you look right now, doll. Wrapped up like a pretty lil’ toy.” 

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he began to unbuckle and unzip his pants right in front of you. The sounds of it made you even wetter, especially when he brought his briefs down with his jeans as he pulled them down his narrow hips. “I wanna break my toy in a little,” he groaned as his cock sprung free from his briefs finally. “Open that fuckin’ mouth.” 

Your eyes stared in astonishment at how fantastic his dick is for a moment–tan, veiny, long, and thick, his cockhead pink and dripping in precum all for you. You were utterly in love with that dick. He brought it to you and gently slapped your lips with it. “Suck,” he commanded. 

Your body reacted immediately. You leaned in towards his dick and opened your mouth, your lips covering your teeth to avoid scratching him. You stuck your tongue out first to get a taste of him, relishing the mix of salty and sweet, before he slid into the wet, warm depths of your waiting mouth. As soon as he was in, you had to adjust to his size by opening your throat as if you were yawning and breathing through your nostrils. Hitoshi was a big guy and it was harder with no hands, but you knew you could manage. You were a big girl. 

He seemed to think so too because he pushed his hips forward more, in turn sliding his dick into your mouth farther. “That’s it, baby girl,” he groaned, one hand securely behind your head. “Suck that dick. Make it sloppy for me. You know how I like it.” 

You did know. That’s why your mouth immediately pulled away to spit all over his cock and slurp it back up before licking all around his dick, making it shine in your saliva. Your mouth secreted so much saliva that it dripped down Hitoshi’s balls and thighs. The sight of it made you gush all over the bed, making your inner thighs wet with your arousal.

Once he was nice and slick, you brought your mouth towards his again and sucked him in, deeper this time. You gagged around his cock for a few seconds, popping his head in and out of your throat as you ran your tongue along his sweet spot located right at the side of his head. 

Hitoshi was loving it. You peered up at him through your lashes to watch his eyes roll back. “Fuck me, that’s it!” he gasped, tossing his head back in ecstasy to the ceiling above. “I love watchin’ you suck my dick in the mirror up here. You’re takin’ me so good.”

You had wanted to watch it too. How did you look taking his dick deep in your mouth, you wondered? Did you look as sexy and as beautiful as he thought too?

He suddenly looked down at you, his hand petting your head lovingly. “Think we can go deeper?” he asked, his eyes dark and hooded. He was now deep in his Dom role–merciless and stern yet still sweet as black licorice. 

You whimpered in protest, not sure if you could. You had to adjust to putting him in your mouth, to begin with, keeping your jaw slack and mouth stretched wide. How the fuck were you going to deepthroat him?

Hitoshi’s hand on your head grew tighter and you whined as he gripped your head. “Oh, yes, you can. It’s been a while, but you’ve got it.” 

‘Don’t!’ your conscious mind protested, but your body didn’t listen. You were already opening your mouth again and expanding your throat for him as if about to yawn. Hitoshi slowly slid his dick into your mouth once more, taking his sweet time. “That’s it, open that throat…” 

He didn’t stop until he was right at the back of your throat, his balls hitting your chin. Your throat flexed and gagged around him, trying to ease the discomfort of something so huge hitting the back of your throat. Your cheeks pricked with tears at the slight burning sensation in your throat as Hitoshi began to slowly slide in and out of the tight space, gripping your hair tight as he did. “Fuck, baby!” he moaned, his voice bouncing off the walls. “Good girl! You took all of me so deep. ‘M so proud of you.” 

He looked down at you in utter adoration and pride which seemed to make the burning sensation in your throat feel like a damn kiss. He slid out to allow you to breathe, his cock soaked in your spit and his precum, so much so that strings of spit stuck to his head and your lips as he pulled away. 

You gulped down each breath greedily and gratefully, relishing this moment because you knew what came next. “T-Thank you, sir,” you breathlessly replied, still struggling to catch your breath. 

Hitoshi let you recover for a moment, then wrenched your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “Now shut the fuck up and lemme fuck that pretty face.” He forced your head back down on him again and you got to work immediately, bobbing your head up and down, back and forth, his dick sliding against your tongue until it once again hit the back of your throat. 

Hitoshi was relentless as he fucked your throat. He gripped your head and maneuvered you the way he wanted until you were right where he wanted–your head back, mouth stretched wide, and eyes on him. His pelvis brushed against your nose and heavy balls swung against your chin as he thrust in and out of your throat, alternating between slow, torturous strokes that stretched out the burning in your throat and quick thrusts that made your throat squelch and gag around him. 

“Gonna make that makeup run,” he grunted. “Gonna fuck you up so good that no other man could compare.” He gripped the fistful he had of your hair tighter and you were so sure he’d yank that shit out if he wasn’t careful. “That’s a promise, baby,” he growled. “Now cum for me while my dick is in your throat.” 

Like clockwork, pussy immediately started quivering and your clit began to swell like it was being stimulated to the point of orgasm. Your eyes widened at the sensation, realizing he was trying to make you cum again. “Mmmph!” you moaned in protest around his dick, your words muffled and muddled. “W-Wait, daddy! S-Still sensitive!”

 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Hitoshi growled darkly, still pumping away in your throat. “You wanna fuck with me? Then you’ve gotta face the consequences. Now fuckin’ cum, you dumb little slut.” 

And you did. God, you did. Your third orgasm of the night came like a damn tsunami as it crashed into your body. Warmth spread throughout your entire being, making your toes curl and muscles spasm as you came all over yourself while Hitoshi stayed deep in your throat. Your moans and whimpers were muffled around his cock, the sensations vibrating against the sensitive parts of his cock. He moaned and swore at the pleasurable vibrations, his balls growing heavier against your chin. 

When your orgasm finally faded and you began to settle into the afterglow, Hitoshi slid out of your throat. His dick bobbed slightly against his inner thigh, slick in your spit and twitching. “I didn’t cum,” he breathlessly explained, “but I don’t want to. Not till I’m deep in that pussy where I belong.” He leaned in toward you then until his nose brushed yours. “Until I’m deep in my pussy.”  

‘Yes,’ your conscious mind thought. ‘Your pussy. All yours.’ The fact that you thought such a thing was shocking to you. You passed it off as a side effect of Hitoshi’s quirk or the fact that you were delirious with lust, but you knew all of that was bullshit. You knew even if this never happened again, you could never find a man who would make you feel this way: so okay with being vulnerable; so willing to submit. There would be no other like Hitoshi Shinso. 

You didn’t know if it was love, but goddamn, did you love this. 

“Wanna go up now?” he asked, giving you such a sweet smile that you nearly started crying. You nodded frantically and he proceeded to get you ready. He first untied your hands and wrists, then had you stand up on the bed. 

After giving you time to get the blood flowing back into your limbs, he coaxed you into putting one leg up onto one of the bedposts at the bottom of the bed. Once you did, he securely tied one end of his scarf to your ankle and the other up on the bedpost. You were then standing with one leg up on the bed and the little hops you did made Hitoshi laugh. 

Letting you hold onto him for balance, he did the same to one of your wrists–he let it dangle from another one of his scarves securely tied to the iron bars forming a roof above the canopy of the bed. He did the same to your other ankle and wrist, tying them up and letting them dangle. He also tied some scarves to your knees, forcing them to bend so your legs wouldn’t lock. Once he was finished, he stayed standing on the bed in front of you, smirking proudly. “Now you’re exactly like a little robe bunny,” he darkly chuckled. 

You said nothing, but you didn’t know what you’d say if you could. The predicament you were in was indescribable and quite embarrassing, to say the least–you were hanging meters above the bed with your arms and legs splayed out so your titties and pussy were on full display for the lavender-haired man standing in front of you. You felt completely and utterly exposed. And you loved every minute of it. The mix of arousal and fear in your stomach was an intoxicating and confusing cocktail, fogging up your head even more. 

Hitoshi stepped closer to you, taking one of your feet into his hand. “Still on the pill?” he asked. You nodded, glad you didn’t stop taking the birth control even though you hadn’t had any kind of sexual contact with anyone since you and Hitoshi fought two weeks ago. He nodded in approval and kissed your foot. “Light, baby,” he ordered though his tone was gentle. 

“Green, sir,” you replied, giving your fingers and toes a wiggle to show him you were okay. Slowly, he positioned his hips in between your dangling legs, his still-hard cock pressing against your inner thigh. 

He cupped your face into both of his calloused hands, holding your gaze with his. “You did so well takin’ me, gorgeous. You’re so, so good to me.” He pecked your lips sweetly, making you drunk off his taste. “Now let me be good to you.” He then took his dick into his hand from the base and, eyes locked with yours, ran it against your overly-sensitive, needy little clit. “You still want this?” he cooed teasingly at you. “You still want this dick?” 

Your clit twitched and ached, your pussy gushing around air as it begged for Hitoshi’s cock. “Yes, please, Hitoshi!” you pleaded, toes curling and muscles clenched. “Please fuck me! C-Can’t take anymore! I’ve earned it! I’ve been a good girl!” 

Hitoshi gave you a wolfish grin, his hands gripping your hips. “Yes, you have,” he chuckled, and then, without warning, he was sliding inside of your exposed, wet, needy pussy. After two weeks without feeling him, it was a bit of a stretch. Your mouth fell open into a silent gasp as you felt your pussy stretch around his head, then to the inches he continued to add. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Hitoshi swore through a hiss. “And so wet for me. Such a naughty little slut.” He began to slowly move his hips, giving you time to adjust. “My dumb little girl.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your breast. “My good, perfect doll.” He took your hard nipple into his mouth. “For me to hold and play with.” He bit your nipple, the sharp sting making you whine. “And break.” 

Once you were fully adjusted to his size, he sunk in deeper and proceeded to fuck you while you hung from his scarves. Your pussy squeezed and flexed around his shaft as he pounded into you again and again, his hips angled just perfectly so his pelvis rubbed against your aching clit with every thrust. “That feels so good, doesn’t it?” he teased. “Bet you’d let me do this all the time. Let me keep you here forever. Bet you’d even let me breed that pretty pussy if I just keep fucking you, right?” 

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t even breathe. He kept knocking the wind out of your lungs with every merciless thrust that sent you further into the stratosphere. With your legs forcefully spread out the way they were, you were forced to take every inch of him that slid in and out of you. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and your wet pussy gushing around his cock filled the air, making you throw your head back. You were about to blackout from this. “‘T-Toshi,” you moaned breathlessly, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Hitoshi laughed at you as he picked up speed, now bottomed out inside of you. He leaned in towards you, his face like a full moon rising in the night. “What?” he snickered, his hot breath fanning your face. “Is my little bunny goin’ dumb from my dick? You like bein’ my stupid little slut?” He went even faster, pounding into you at a breakneck pace that had you seeing stars and your pussy quivering gratefully for it. 

You were losing it, going completely dumb from the sensations and Hitoshi’s ever-so-persuasive quirk and control. “Y-Yes!” you deliriously babbled, your toes clenched as yet another orgasm approached. “Yes, ooh, I love it! I love bein’ your stupid little slut! I’m yours, Hitoshi, I promise!”

You were completely cum drunk, your mind muddled and your body turning to mush. “Gonna cum again!” you sobbed, eyes squeezed shut and head tossed back to the ceiling. Hitoshi didn’t let up. In fact, he only went harder, gripping your ass and smashing his pelvis onto that clit as he fucked you hard. “Show me then,” he commanded. “Show me how much of a stupid fuckin’ whore you are for me and cum all over my dick. Cum for me, you pretty, brainless lil’ slut!”  

Those words sent you right over the edge. You tumbled down, down, down into the sea of bliss that was waiting for you. When you came for the fourth fucking time that night, you did it on a scream that tore from your lungs and echoed throughout Hitoshi’s apartment. He slowed down enough to let you ride it out, staring at your face with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on him. 

Once your orgasm began to fade and your muscles unclenched, he gripped your hips and started to drive into you again. Never mind how your pussy spasmed and clamped down around his cock in protest, or how you screamed and whined in protest. “Not yet,” he growled as he began to pound into you again with vigor. “Not fuckin’ yet. Not until you’re spent and cum-drunk. Not until you’re good and punished for your bullshit.” 

You were crying, pleading, begging him. For what exactly, you had no idea. Did you want him to stop or keep going? The lines between wanting it and not were blurred, your four orgasms and Hitoshi’s quirk making your brain a complete puddle. “Daddy, please!” you begged tearfully. “Sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” 

He leaned in toward you, so close you could see the line sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Tell me why you did it,” he grunted in your face. “Tell me why you play with my feelings like this. Tell me why you really wanted that break.” 

His quirk took hold of you, gripping your mind and forcing you to comply. “Because…” You hiccuped between a sob as he continued to pound and stroke your pussy, the lewd, wet sounds of your sex filling the air. “Please, Hitoshi,” you begged. “Don’t.” 

His hand suddenly shot out and wrapped around your throat. Your mouth fell open on a gasp as he squeezed. “Save it,” he growled. “You don’t get to make the rules now. I do, and I’m tellin’ you to tell me the truth.” He slowed down his thrusts, going painfully slow, his cock sliding in and out of you at a torturous speed (which was none at all). He was teasing you, forcing you to reveal your dirty little secret. “Tell me if you wanna cum.” 

You started crying then. The hold he had on you was too great. The truth settled on your tongue, the urge to reveal everything pushing through your conscious mind. “Because I was scared!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face. “I was scared by how much I cared for you. I wanted something real with you too, ‘Toshi!” 

Hitoshi stopped moving for a moment. He only started at you for a beat, his eyes wide with astonishment and confusion. You probably looked a mess right now–makeup fucked up, mascara dripping down your cheeks, pussy soaked and pulsating around his dick. You were sure now that he knew the truth, he’d stop this entire thing because of how long you’d been fucking around with him. 

But none of that happened. In fact, the exact opposite occurred. He gripped your head with one hand and slammed his lips against yours as he slid into you, so deep that his balls touched your ass. You moaned into the passionate kiss he gave you, your pussy pulsing around him. He pulled away, wearing a firm expression and holding a fire in his eyes that almost frightened you. 

“No more bullshit after this, you hear me?” he asked, his voice strained. “We can’t be friends after this. My heart couldn’t take it, Y/N.” Before you could even process his words, he settled his hips against yours and kissed your neck as he nuzzled it. “Now do me a favor and fuckin’ cum all over my dick while I cum inside of you.” 

He began to work his hips again, slamming his cock in you again and again. The noises leaving your lips were a mess of moans and delirious giggles, your clit almost being tickled from his pelvis as he fucked you.

“Tell me who the fuck my good girl is,” he commanded. “Tell me whose a good rope bunny for me. Whose a good doll to play with?” He licked his hand and slid it between you both, proceeding to rub at your sensitive, pulsing clit. 

“M-Me!” you deliriously giggled. “I’m your good girl, your rope bunny, your good doll! I’ll be everything you want me to be, sir!” Hitoshi’s gaze darkened as he stared into your eyes, showing you all of him as you showed him all of you. “Oh, my God, I’m gonna fuck you up,” he promised before holding you up by your ankles and drilling himself inside of you again and again. 

And oh, boy, was he. You don’t think you had ever been fucked by him this way: so passionately and so desperately. His hands gripped your hips so tight that you were you had bruises and he took every moment he had to kiss you, his tongue sliding and swirling against yours. You were losing your shit–your body was tingling, each cell coming to life from the sheer pleasure you felt; your muscles felt like they were shot with tranquilizer with how loose they felt; your mind was completely blank. But your heart was full and each time it pounded, it pounded for him. 

Hitoshi wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed again, once again restricting your breathing. “Show me,” he ordered, his voice strained and completely feral. “Show me how good you are. God, baby doll, your pussy is stroking me so good!” He hooked one arm around your ass and pistoned into you again and again, signaling his oncoming orgasm too. 

“Cum with me,” he growled against your lips. “Fuckin’ cum with me, baby!” 

You didn’t know whether it was his quirk or the way he sounded–so desperate and urgent–that made you cum all over his cock. But when it did, you knew this would be the one that would put you out like a light later. You screamed so hard that your throat went raw and your body clenched tightly, your core tightening then unraveling as you came all over Hitoshi’s dick. 

“Cumming!” he gasped. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” He slammed into you faster and harder until he finally busted inside of you, his cock swelling then exploding finally.

Ropes of hot cum shot into your pussy, making you silently gasp at the warmth you felt envelope you. He came so much that it dripped down your asscrack and coated your inner thighs. Hitoshi moaned, cussed, and shouted your name as he came undone, gripping you so close to him that you lost your breath. 

He filled you to the brim with cum until he couldn’t anymore. But he still held onto you like he was afraid you’d disappear. You felt him tremble slightly against you, his kisses soft against your heated skin. “You’re mine,” he whispered tenderly against your neck. “You’re all mine, you hear?” 

You didn’t answer. You physically couldn’t, too far gone in the high to come down. But you did eventually, and when you did, you came down hard. Your body froze and your temperature dropped, making you shiver against Hitoshi. He must have noticed this change too because he pulled away from you. “Baby doll?” he murmured worriedly. 

The hold he had on your brain was now broken. You had full control over yourself now, but even so, you still couldn’t get a good hold on yourself. It felt like your brain and body were fighting against each other. You knew you were experiencing the aftermath of a very intense session with Hitoshi, but you’ve never felt this before. It was scary. You looked into Hitoshi’s worried eyes and opened your mouth, not sure what to say but knowing you just wanted to speak to him. 

He pressed a finger to your lips, stopping you. “Don’t speak,” he urged. “Lemme get you down, okay?” Hurriedly, he slid his softened dick out of you and began to quickly untie you. He started with your legs and then worked on your wrists. You wanted to rub out the ache you felt in them, but your body was too exhausted to do so. 

He then untied the rest of your body, got you a glass of water which you gratefully sipped from, and then coaxed you to lie down under the black comforter that covered the bed. It felt like cool silk against your heated, sweaty skin. 

“Come here,” he cooed as he wrapped his arms around you. You laid against his chest, your ear pressed to his pounding heart. “It’s okay. Just let it come, baby. Just let it come.” The sound of his heartbeat against your ear took you down from your high more and more with each second until soon, your mind was clear and you felt like yourself again. 

You softly mewed like a kitten against his chest and snuggled into him, wanting him close. “Shh,” he shushed you. “Just rest. I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. I’ll always be here.” You smiled tiredly and gratefully at his sweet words. You wanted to thank him, but sleep just had other plans for you. You were out immediately, snuggled up against Hitoshi as the rain raged on outside. 

*******

You didn’t know what time you woke up, but you knew it was sometime later. 

It was still dark, but the rain had stopped. You heard nothing in Hitoshi’s darkened bedroom–only the sound of your soft breathing as you awakened. At some point, Hitoshi had turned out the light, but you didn’t remember when. You barely remembered anything, let alone why you were naked. You also smelled faintly of lavender soap and massage oil which you also didn’t remember using. 

“You’re awake.” You turned at the sound of the familiar, delicious voice behind you, finding Hitoshi sitting up against the headboard, staring down at you with those violet eyes. “You’ve been asleep for only an hour. I cleaned you up and massaged your muscles while you were out. You were, uh…quite a mess.” He smirked at you in the darkness. 

That explained why you felt so clean and relaxed. You didn’t say anything for a while–you just stared at him, your eyes adjusting more to the darkness to see the outline of his face and eyes. “How do you feel?” he asked softly. 

Though the question was quite simple, you found that you didn’t have a real answer for him. “Um…” You struggled to find the words to describe how you felt then. Good? Satisfied? No, that wouldn’t be truthful, because you still felt that emptiness inside of you as you stared at Hitoshi, knowing tonight was the last night you could truly be like this. With anyone. 

“Good,” you replied, attempting to fight the tears as you gave him a false smile. “Really, really good…” But your emotions had other plans for you. Your smile trembled and tears pushed past your eyesockets. You immediately hid your face from Hitoshi as the tears began to break. “Fuck!” you snapped into your hands. “This wasn’t supposed to happen!” 

“Hey, hey,” Hitoshi cooed, putting a hand on your thigh. “What do you mean, darlin’?” He gently pried your hands away from your face, showing your tear-soaked cheeks to him. 

You sniffled, staring down at the comforter you and him laid underneath. “Tonight was supposed to be the last night,” you confessed. “For this.” You ticked a finger between you and him.

“I knew there was no way we could be friends after doing what we’ve been doing, and I didn’t want us to be more ‘cause I was so scared you’d hurt me or that I’d hurt you!” The words flew out of you, desperate to be released like curses in Pandora’s Box. 

There it was: the truth. Out in the open. Your heart pounded as you anticipated Hitoshi’s reaction. For a minute, he stared at you, astonished. “Wow,” he huffed. “That was a lot to unpack. However, you did admit a lot of it during our scene while you were suspended.” You blinked at him, trying to remember what you said. “I did?” you asked, mortified. 

Hitoshi gave you a sheepish look as he scratched the back of his neck. “I kinda persuaded you to do it,” he confessed. “Or rather commanded you.”

He took your hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “I just wanted to truth because I’m fuckin’ crazy about you, Y/N! I couldn’t do this with another woman even if I wanted to. You stay in my mind, so much that I thought you brainwashed me too.” 

He put a hand to your cheek and stroked his thumb across it gently. “You have me, baby.” He held his eyes with yours, and in them was a sea of tenderness and adoration that teetered just so on the edge of love. You were taken aback at this. “Hitoshi…” The tears continued to flow as utter passion exploded within you, causing you to throw yourself at him. 

“You have me too,” you whispered, the tears still streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry,” you softly sobbed into his chest. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” Hitoshi hushed you and cradled your head to his chest. He held you close and rocked you like his baby as he finally calmed down, soothed by the scent of him and his beating heart. When you finally recovered, he smiled down at you. “Feelin’ better?” he asked. 

You nodded, wiping at your wet cheeks. “So…what now?” you laughed, realizing that you were now way past FWBs. You were now real. Really real. 

Hitoshi hummed thoughtfully to himself. “Well, we didn’t finish all of that Moscato yet, and I think Netflix has some new movies out we can either make fun of or really pay attention to.” He curled an arm under your legs and coaxed you into his lap. “And then maybe, if you’re up for it, we can make up for those two weeks we didn’t have each other.” He ran his lips along your jawline, making you shiver. 

“Mmm, that sounds like a plan,” you purred, tilting your face up to kiss his chin. You ran a finger along his jawline, loving the way his eyes grew hooded. “As long as it’s with you.” 

Hitoshi’s gaze darkened, the switch in his demeanor creating a familiar warm feeling in your core. “Keep talkin’ like that and you definitely won’t be walkin’ tomorrow,” he promised before pressing an earth-shattering, toe-curling kiss to your lips. Meaning he meant that shit. And you knew it. 

You were counting on it. 

THE END.

#shinso x black reader #hitoshi x black reader #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #black writers #one shots

[somelonelywriter]

Can I request a Leto!Joker where I have powers (telekinesis) and save J from someone who wants to hurt him but I over use them which causes me to pass out but he catches me in his arms and he carries me to our shared room and he starts to panic about what happened and he stays with me until I wake up (you can add the rest) (we are husband and wife) thank u :)

VOICES

Pairing: Husband!Jared!Joker x Wife!Fem!reader

(i used she/her pronouns since you said wife, but if you want me to change them tell me, also it's just a one shot I'm sorry, let me know if you wanted headcanons or something else).

Warnings: use of pet names, light swearing, fainting, mention of guns/weapons, mention of Batman, mention/description of blood, mention of death, mention being worried about someone well being (does that really need a warning(?)), Hurt/comfort, tiny bit of toxic relationship and as usual Joker is his own warning, let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: Batman almost catches your husband, almost is the key word.

A/n: I'm sorry this took me so long. AHHHH im SO excited! My first request!! I'll try my best, and i hope you don't mind the fact that i made it start in the car like the scene in 'Suicide Squad', feel free to critizice (obv in a constructive way). Let me know if there are any grammatical errors. Enjoy!

Not really proofreaded 😅

Faster.

That was the only thing in your mind as your husband drived the purple Lamborghini on the road.

You needed to get that stupid bat off of your car. "He's gonna ruin our date night!" You screamed, your anniversary night was gonna be ruined and it was all his fault! You pointed your gun at the ceilieng of the car and fired at it a couple of times, letting your anger out.

The joker near you laughed, a stressed laugh. You knew what that meant. Sooner or later something, or worst someone will blow up.

So you decided to take care of the situation in an even more aggressive way. It was risky to say the least, but extreme problems require extreme solutions, and oh if Batman was a fucking problem.

So you taked a deep breath and cleared your mind (as much as you could with the Clown losing the last bit of sanity he had in the driver seat) and visualized the annoying bat being throwed under your car.

Suddendly all the noises stopped, then a loud 'bang' could be heard and you saw Batman flying rigth on the car windscreen leaking blood over it.

You did it!!

Joker clapped his hands "My good Darling! He got what he deserved! Death to the bat! Death to the bat!" He singed sang, but it sounded muffled, oh so muffled...

The only thing on your mind was a drop. 'tic tic tic' (a/n: does this make sense?)

You looked down and saw your hands covered in blood, your nose was bleesdng... Your eyes felt heavy, the last thing you heard was your name, Joker was calling you. Then it all went black.

Joker on the other hand did not excpect you to faint. It was unplanned, and he even if he loved surprises he didn't love having you in this state.

If we're being honest, at first he was tempted to leave you there (a/n: for me the story finishes like this :) but a request is a request lol) but then a voice, one of the too many in his head, told him not to do it, that he needed you, even if he didn't really know for what... So he drived to his mansion, every now and then checking on you.

Once in your shared bedroom he layed you on the bed.

Joker started to genuinely feel concerned for you, almost an hour as passed and you still weren't awake.. His pretty toy can't die, not if he doesn't want she to do so at least.

He then decided to lay down near you, for the first time in his life he felt a little scared, the voices in his head getting loud, he could hear them scream, scream that you had to wake up, that you couldn't leave him, that he-

He suddendly turned his head to look at his pet, who had now opened her eyes.

you tried to talk but he stopped you, he just wanted to held you on his chest. You didn't dare to discontent him by moving. Not wanting to miss the chance to have some affection since he rarely initiated it, you ignored your headache and relaxed into his touch.

Ironically the place where you felt the most safe were the place where everyone else felt the most scared.

#batman #jared leto #dc joker #one shot #Fluff #Jared Joker #X reader #dcmultiverse #suicide squad #the suicide squad #harley quinzel #harley quinn #wife reader #fem reader

[lover-of-mine]

just saw on twitter that in the shot of buck laid on the floor in the promo, you can see their green and pink jackets laid on top of eachother on the couch next to empty red wine glasses. i just checked and it’s true lol, they’re on the arm of the couch i think

i know it obviously won’t happen but…. save us 7x06 drunk make out that they both vaguely remember but pretend they don’t bc they’re not sure how they feel about it🫡🫡

Baby, darling, honey, I was talking about this exact scenario with @thegeekcompanion earlier and my brain keeps running with it soaksokaoskaoksas

So hear me out, fantasy scenario, obviously, they're not gonna do that, we don't know how they got there, right? What happened in that room. We don't know what happened during the night, but something happened during the night, what? We don't know, they don't know either, Buck and Eddie don't remember, they don't show the audience, but did they kiss? did they hook up? did they just get way too close for it not to awaken things? Did they just cuddle in the bathtub like platonic bros with their socks on? Who knows? They don't know so we don't know, but something changed, and we are trying to piece together the night with them, the episode ends with them not remembering, so they don't remember or do they? Eddie breaks up with Marisol, we don't know why, nothing happened, he just gave up on working on it, every interaction between Buck and Eddie is suddenly #charged, but Buck really doesn't remember, he still smitten by Tommy, but Eddie keeps seeming more and more tense, while getting more and more aggressively supportive to the point that even Buck is a little "you good man" and then something happens, don't ask me what? Rough call? Bad day? He just snaps? Who knows, the vision is not clear enough yet. But then we find out Eddie does remember whatever happened at the bachelor party, I don't wanna say they hooked up, because I don't wanna add the cheating aspect to them, don't make the freshly out bi dude help his best friend cheat, but like, they got close, were about to kiss, and then got interrupted, and Eddie knows that's the only reason it didn't happen and he's been watching Buck waiting for Buck to remember, but Buck just doesn't remember and he's freaking out because does it even mean? Were they just really drunk and caught in the moment? Does he have feelings for Buck? Does that mean he's attracted to men? Is it just a Buck thing? Would it even matter when Buck keeps trying to make it work with Tommy? And we could get some delicious pining going for a while there. Because if Buck is happy with Tommy, Eddie wouldn't want to interfere but at the same time he's kinda losing his mind. Then Eddie gets hurt in a call or something, Buck goes berserker, someone tells him "are we sure this wasn't about Eddie a little bit," Buck spirals, mutual pining that could be solved if they just talked, then Buck remembers the moment at the bachelor party and decides he needs to take the leap but Buck kinda chokes when he gets there and can't say anything, so he just grabs Eddie by his shirt and kisses him and bam.

I feel like this would be a nice fic oskasokasokasokasas anyway, yeah, I will live in the drunk make out in the bachelor party and they just keep dancing around it fantasy lol

#ive been thinking about this particular scenario within my multiple fantasy scenarios so like #my brain is one big tangled mess #aoskoaksoaksoaksasoska #its not happening but hey its to think about #aoskasoakksa #911 #911 spoilers #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌