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#that's beside the point I can live with my back being fucked up I can't live with my chest though
gotham-daydreams · 6 months
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i just had a thought
you know what would really fuck up the batfam in the "not tonight" series imagine the reader instead of leaving gets kidnnaped and when the batfam saves them reader breaks down into crying in relief because they genuenly believed the batfam would not bother to save them
Imagine the absolute horror the batman would feel
I know its a little farfetched but i live for the angst
No, no! I love that idea!!! And it isn't all that farfetched seeing as the reader is a well known musician on some level, and even if that wasn't the case- they're still the kid of Bruce Wayne. Which, honestly, is enough motivation for someone to kidnap them, I'd say. Especially if the reasoning is for money, revenge/jealousy, or both honestly.
Besides all that, though- oh my god that would be awful! I love it!
Because imagine things from the reader's perspective (which, there is implied violence inflicted on the reader, mentions a blood, and a gun is pointed towards them. So, if it isn't your cup of tea then that's fine!):
Your 'family' that barely acknowledges you enough as it is, and the only guy who ever seems to notice that you're around is the single butler that basically takes care of everyone and everything in the manor. Now, you're kidnapped because of your relation/connection to the family, and have no hope to do anything besides just pray.
Maybe you have tried to escape before a few times at this point, but the punishment for such attempts have now gotten to the point where if you try again and fail, you'd surely die. Maybe you've also been trying so hard to escape yourself because you're just that certain and sure that the Batfam won't save you. Since, up until this point, anything dealing with or connecting back to you in some way has been ignored or dismissed one way or another. Why would something like a kidnapping be any different? Especially when they also haven't noticed other events where you have gotten hurt before.
Right from the gate, you're already thinking that the Batfam won't save you. Not that they can't, but just like with everything else- something will come up and steal away their attention, and you'll be left by yourself, and to defend yourself as always. That's what always seems to happen, and so why would now be different? In your mind, it wouldn't. So that's why when your attempts to escape fail, and the punishments not only get worse, but begin to pile up and reach a point where you think you're going to die- the situation quickly becomes much scarier.
You don't hope that Batman will suddenly show up, and instead pray that your best friend will notice your missing somehow. You don't think that Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler, or Orphan will suddenly swoop in and save the day, but instead try and hope that your producer/boss notices that you haven't replied to his calls or texts and contacts someone. You don't even consider that Red Hood or Robin will come barreling in and quickly deal with your kidnappers before rescuing you — instead all of your thoughts are filled with silent whispers and desperate pleas that someone- anyone you know will notice that you're gone, or that something is wrong, and will contact somebody. With that 'somebody' being the police or anyone of help, but not the Batfam.
Maybe a small thought does slip by, but you can only internally laugh at yourself because you either think that you've already lost enough blood to actually try and believe that lie, or your just growing that desperate to have a little hope. To have something to cling onto in this moment, that you chose the one thing that you're so convinced will never be given to you. A thought that only further cements itself in your mind the more time passes. With hours turning into days, and days to weeks.
Perhaps that's why you try to escape again. Deciding that you had better odds of succeeding despite your injuries, than the Batfam ever coming to save you. Let alone even thinking about it, or even realizing that you were gone in the first place. Taking that risk of getting caught again, and potentially getting killed this time, because no matter how hopeless or unlikely it seems for you to escape and make it out- those chances will always be higher than any single person from the Batfam showing up, and even attempting to save you. Even on accident, or on a whim- that possibility is so unlikely in your mind, that it's basically nothing more than a made up scenario or daydream to you. It's not an 'if' or 'when', but a flat out 'won't'.
Maybe that's why when you fail you get so scared, but can't help but feel like this was inevitable somehow. Of course, you don't want to die- but you had tried your best. You fought until the very end, and it almost feels a little too fitting that things ended up this way. With your efforts ending in vain, and you having nothing to show for it. With your attempts futile, and almost seeming idiotic from an outsider's point of view, and maybe it was.
You never stood a chance. You were doomed for failure. Not even all the training and experience you had could save you- and only now could you see how truly worthless all your efforts had been. With a gun pointed to your head, and your own blood providing the only warmth you've felt in days.
There's an odd sense of comfort and familiarity in the chill that shoots down your spine, and the cold gaze that one of your kidnappers give you. They're carelessness and disregard for your health reminding you of something, with their rough attacks and harsh punches bringing back times where you really did need the Batfam, only for no one to show up. Your call dying down as fast as it had risen that day, and one you never even bothered to make again.
So maybe that was why you were so surprised when help arrived, and even more so when you saw who exactly it was.
Before you could even fully register anything, you began to cry. A wide smile full of disbelief grows on your face, and more tears begin to fall as the smallest of laughs escape you. 'Unbelievable' is the first word that comes to mind when describing what you felt, and thought when you saw Batman drop down from the ceiling and deal with the guy who was about to kill you, and heard some commotion just down the hall.
At first, your convinced it's all some silly dream, and that maybe during your final moments- your mind decided to give you something nice to send you off. Almost like a warm parting gift to distract you from the hopelessness, and reality of the situation. Though it's only when pain shoots through your entire body when you move a certain way, that the thought of all of this being some made up hallucination or delusion vanishes, and you can't help but cry harder.
You don't know if it's a good or bad thing that after all this time- the one time they actually notice that you're gone, is when you not only get kidnapped, but can't escape by yourself. That the one time they acknowledge you, you're almost dead, bleeding out, and the most messy and vulnerable you've ever been.
Maybe life really did have some grudge against you to go to such lengths to fuck you over, but right now you're too relieved to be saved to care at the moment.
Yet, to say the Batfam feels awful on a totally new level, is an understatement. They understand feeling relieved, but to this extent? It's like you never expected them to come and save you at all... and that little thought seems to be true when one of them tries to help you out, and you're still laughing weakly as you continue to cry. Asking through a broken, wavering voice if all of this is real, and isn't some fucked up hallucination your having to make passing on easier. That they really showed up, and as a last ditch effort to not make your death anymore painful then it has to be- this isn't just some... dream, to make you feel like you were actually cared for in your final moments.
It breaks their hearts, a lot.
Especially when you repeat questions, as if trying to really make sure that they're there, that they're real, and aren't just some figment of your imagination. That they actually came to save you, and weren't off saving Gotham or the world itself instead. Constantly trying to be sure, as if the moment you weren't- then you'd be convinced that you were slowly dying all alone, with no hope of help coming — not even thinking that the Batfam would come — and just have to sit with that fact as you take your final breaths.
The pain you feel is almost equal to their's, and what really worries and scares most of them is how sure and certain you are that they wouldn't show up. That either the thought would never cross their minds, or that something else would come up and they'd leave you for dead, or that they just wouldn't notice that you were kidnapped at all.
Which, said fright and worry is only amplified when you have to keep asking "Are you really here? Are you sure?" And the like, and they have to keep finding ways to prove to you that yes, they are here. They're helping you, and they're not leaving- they actually managed to save you, and that you're going be okay now. That they aren't going away, and are very, very real.
Each little, broken laugh chips away at the pieces of their hearts, and your own disbelief that they can't seem to get rid of no matter what they do or say, is just a punch to the gut. You didn't just think that they wouldn't show up, but were fully convinced that they wouldn't even bother with it. That own realization just... hurts more than anything.
Had they really been that awful to you? Had they really caused you so much pain and hurt that you'd not only think of such a thing, but fully believe it? They didn't remember doing anything in particular that would cause you to think that way... but maybe that wasn't the problem. It wasn't what they did to you, but rather what they didn't do, and that's when the pieces finally begin to click.
Of course some don't want to believe it, similar to how some of them in "Not Here" express a brief moment of denial and disbelief themself, but they don't get to experience such a luxury anymore. Not with you here- bleeding, hurt, and crying from both relief and disbelief, because you couldn't believe that they actually showed up.
Even when they do quickly take you to a hospital and get you treated, that image of you is still ingrained into their minds. They can't forget it- how you looked at them and spoke, and just how you treated the whole situation because of how convinced you were.
From here they'll try to rebuild what they can, and all definitely be 100% more protective then they've ever been. The moment you're able to come home (which, you ARE coming home. No if's or but's. You don't get a chance this time.), they're doing everything in their power to not only 'fix' everything, but make sure that you are safe at all possible moments of the day.
It's safe to say that the whole experience traumatized the whole family to a certain degree. Not only with you being kidnapped- but you trying to escape multiple times and almost dying, because you were so convinced that no one would show up to help. (Which, while it was also because you can genuinely handle yourself and did believe you could escape on your own, the Batfam doesn't entirely believe that (and you almost dying doesn't help with that) so they chalk it up to you being desperate, because you 'knew' that no one was coming to save you. Which also may or may not make certain people worse in the process.) So they're already leaning pretty heavy on the yandere tendencies. Which most likely develop over the time you're in the hospital, and into your first week or so staying in the Manor.
Which does lead us to your little addition:
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Which, you are very correct!!!
Our boy Jason, put in very simple terms, doesn't take the situation well. At all.
Seeing you bloodied, bruised, abused, malnourished, and on the brink of death no less- definitely doesn't help with his reaction at all.
Don't get me wrong! All of them react pretty negatively to the situation, and many of them have very strong reactions- Jason in particular just has the worst and strongest one. :]
The moment he sees you, he's immediately reminded of his death. The urge to comfort you is strong, but he just doesn't know what to do- and so he ends up not doing anything until you're in the hospital. Which, leading up to that point, he's checking your pulse as often as he can.
He knows what it's like to be hopeless, and feel that helpless- but to know that you experienced that? To know that you almost died like he did? It ruins him. It fucks him up more than anything else.
From the way you looked at the Batfam- the way you looked at him, and just how utterly relieved you were, despite drowning in your own disbelief- it haunts him. The state they found you in messed him up enough, but all of your questions, and just how you were even trying to reassure yourself that them showing up and saving you was real, fucked him up big time.
Before he knows it, he's hunting down the people who kidnapped you, and wiping out whatever is left of their bloodlines. Not sparing a single person, as they didn't spare you- with their generations leading to your kidnappers being born.
He's making their final moments just as painful as yours would've been. Their agony almost matching his, as he couldn't forget the night they saved you. He refused to. That moment forever engraved into his mind, reminding him of what also was if they were a second too late, and how it made him realize just how much he's fucked up along with everyone else.
While Jason can't exactly just waltz into the Hospital to visit you, since he is still considered dead and everything, he sneaks into your room instead. Trying to give what comfort he can in his own silent, but close way. Holding your hand with a gentleness even foreign to himself, and saying how he's sorry and that he'll make it up to you. Promising every night that he'll make those that made you suffer pay with their lives, and then some. Saying how he won't leave your side ever again, only to be gone by the morning.
He brings what he can as well. Even if it isn't as showy or extravagant as any of the things that Bruce, Damian, Dick and so on are getting you, or as pretty and lively as the flowers that are placed by your bedside. It's just his own little way of trying to make it up to you.
The small, little gifts he gives you are indeed little, and he doesn't give much since he doesn't think that your forgiveness or love can be bought. But he still tries to give something. So he'll give things that can be as little as hair ties or bracelets, to earrings (that totally aren't matching) and a little music box that reminded him of the melodies you've made thus far. It's all just another way of saying that he cares about you, and not only wants to build your relationship but be connected to you somehow.
The earrings, even if you don't wear them but just have them, make him feel closer to you then he can. He hopes that in some little way, that whenever you wind and let that music box play its tune, that you are reminded of him or think of him in some way. That when you wear or even look at the few ties and bracelets he's given you, he comes to mind in some small way, and manages to bring the smallest of smiles on your face.
Jason doesn't yearn to be remembered or seen fondly, but he would like to and deeply appreciate it. Since when he looks at his earnings, he's reminded of you, and the pair he managed to give you. Leaving him unable to fight back the smile that grows on his face.
For the most part, he just generally tries to be more present, hardly leaving you alone unless he has to, and spending every moment he can by your side. Moments that begin to last longer once he finishes his buisness with your kidnappers, and their families. He doesn't push too hard or is super in your face and constantly invading your personal space. He just exists in your presence, and as long as you're around he's got no complaints.
Though he does get extremely protective and possessive. Especially if your sleeping or something, and someone walks in. God have mercy if they need to wake you up, and dare to try without saying anything to Jason first.
Which- all of this boils down to you getting scary dog privileges every night, which turns into an almost 24/7 type of deal when you get discharged from the hospital.
---
Sorry if this is a little all over the place. I wrote it all in one go for the most part and haven't really looked it over, so there's probably some mistakes I didn't catch and missed 😅
Still, I hope that's alright, and as you can see- i really enjoy this idea :]
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rklve · 8 months
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RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE
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summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.
➣ pairing: jk x f!reader
➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut (eventually).
➣ 3.4k words
warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a confused mess. mutual pining. cursing. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. tae is bitter asf but he's right on this one. jk is the best boy I WANT HIM!!!!!!!!!!
song inspo: rainy days — V
wish I knew how to find the way right back to you, on rainy days like
part one | part two | drabble one
“I can't take it anymore,” Jungkook says as he stumbles for the seventh time on his feet walking around the living room “I’m losing my mind, Bamie.”
The dog looks at his owner with his head pointed sideways as if he understands what he’s been sorrowing about for the past 10 minutes. The rain pours angrily outside the apartment, Jungkook sighs as he realizes talking to his big ass puppy won’t solve any of his problems.
“She’s like, 5 min away from us, Bam! I should text her, right?”
He looks over his phone again, your instagram story is open and a picture of a window full of raindrops is seen — he knows where you’re at, you’ve both been to that coffee shop over a hundred times for the past years now. Can’t remember the last time he’s been to that place ‘cause he couldn’t stand the thought of being there without you. Now he’s wondering, wondering, wondering. Wonders if you’re back for real this time. If you are alone. If you are thinking about him too. Wonders what would happen if he just replied your story right now.
@jeonjk97: heard it’s the best caramel macchiato in town 👍
No— that’s too lame. Quickly erases the message.
@jeonjk97: want a ride home? it’s pretty bad outside. 
Throws his phone on the sofa as he realizes he doesn’t know if you would accept his offer, doesn’t know if you’re sharing an apartment with Lola again either. Realizes he doesn’t know anything that’s been going on with you for a while now. More than what you let your 897 followers on Insta know too, at least. Blames himself for it, but knows it was for the best. Misses you like a fucker anyway.
“I should just call her.”
He picks up his phone, then also realizes he deleted your number months ago so he wouldn’t call you whenever his drunk ass thought it was the right thing to do. 
“For fucks sake, grow some balls, Jungkook” he whines angrily at the air purifier as if it is the source of his problems. “Okay, Taehyung will know what do.”
He calls his best friend quickly, and prays Taehyung picks up before he grabs his car keys and drives himself to the colorful little cafe at the end of the street. Remembers how much you loved that place and the cookies they served. One caramel macchiato with extra topping and two medium chocolate cookies. You always ordered the same thing. Every damn time. Said it was in you, to never let go of the things you loved. You let go of him anyway.
“Jungkook-ah! Why are you calling? I told you I can't go out—“ 
“She’s back in town.” He cuts Taehyung abruptly and suddenly the other line is mute as well. Probably doesn’t believe it’s happening just as Jungkook didn’t believe himself minutes ago. 
“Man, are you sure? Like, back for real?” he says, and Jungkook swears he can hear the disbelief in his tone from the other side. Yeah, he knows Taehyung is full of his late night calls to talk about you. Knows he is the one that’s been listening to it for months now —besides from his dobermann, of course— he’s the one who gets it, ‘cause he’s the only one who feels bitterly betrayed too. You were one of his best friends and yet, he didn’t knew your plans to move out from Busan as well. 
“Aish, I’m not sure hyung. But she posted a picture a little while ago at the cafe down the street.” he blurted out, “Can’t even think straight now, man. You think she’s back for the holidays?” 
Taehyung wondered for a little while. It was still August, Chuseok was weeks later. He didn’t say it out loud, but it wasn’t like you to drop work for so long, even if it was to visit your hometown. Nevertheless, he didn’t want Jungkook to get his hopes up. He knows how he is. Doesn’t want to see his friend’s heart breaking all over again.
“Mmm. Maybe, don’t know.” he sighed out loud “I thought we agreed to unfollow her after the second month.”
He hears Jungkook’s sad chuckle on the other side of the line, “Yeah, we did.” 
Taehyung knows Jungkook wouldn’t bring himself to do it tho, and now he just confirms it. Being a little bit more resentful than Jungkook gave him the motivation to do so, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been missin’ your ugly face. 
“Ok, so I need you to refresh my mind now. Tell me something so I won’t step outside that door right this second and make a fool of myself.” Jungkook continues to talk as if he’s been charged on 220W. And maybe he was. His heart has never beaten so fast for the past twelve months. His hair is all over the place from the countless times he grabbed it since he saw your photo. The tip of his fingers are tingling. Yeah, maybe he’s been electrocuted or something.
“Go.”
“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief. Doesn’t think he hears straight, ‘cause Taehyung would be the last one to say such a thing. 
“I said go, Jungkook.” he sighs for what it seems to be the tenth time on the phone call. “I know you need this. You haven’t been yourself for so long now. You two have to talk properly at some point.”
“Ay, how frustratin really—” he tsks.
“For real, man. Go. Now.” he firmly says “What’s the worst she can do, leave?” Jungkook senses the bitter words coming from Taehyung’s mouth. He knows he’s not mad at you, just hurt. Knows Taehyung would forgive you in a heartbeat if you said how sorry you were for everything that went thru. Wonders if he would forgive you that easily too. But he knows his friend is right. He needs closure. Needs this.
“Yeah. Right.” he bites his lips and looks around. Sees Bam looking at him, as if he’s expecting an action from him too. “I’ll talk to you later, bro. Thanks.”
He turns off the phone and grabs his car keys tightly. Yeah, he’s doing it. Won’t think too much, it’s better this way. He will get in the car, drive for 5 minutes. Enter the coffee shop. Order. Pretend he doesn’t know you’re there. Eventually look over the spot he knows you’re at, the same table over the corner where you two always used to sit together, by the large window. Grab the coffee and go over casually, ask how you’ve been. Offer you a ride home —to your parents, probably, since you moved out from your apartment on the neighborhood for a while now. Say it’s because of the rain, he knows you hate to ask for Ubers on the rain. Didn’t trust just anyone driving on bad weather. Such a smart girl. He misses the shit out of you. 
“Damn, ok. Pack it up, man.” 
He calls Bam to his house and watches as the dog quickly follow his lead, as if he knows Jungkook is too anxious to play around right now. “Dad will be back soon, okay? Behave.”
And so he checks out his hair one last time on the mirror at his bathroom and goes before he changes his mind.
The drive is pretty quick. It’s actually a route he does walking, but it’s still pouring rain so he’s carrying on. On a rainy day. To a coffee shop. To get a coffee he could have made at the comfort of his home with his own little coffee machine. But it’s okay, he will just play pretend for this time.
He stops the car and just realizes he forgot his umbrella. “Are you fucking serious, Jungkook?” 
Great. Brilliant. He feels so fucking dumb right now. 
Thankfully, due to the cold season he was wearing his black sweatshirt and sweatpants so the rain wouldn’t do so much damage. He quickly got off the car and ran inside the cafe. 
Surprisingly, it was full for a rainy night. Perhaps everyone had the usual thought; too lazy to make their own foods, they step out to grab something warm on the best coffee in the neighborhood. 
Jungkook plays the script on his head over and over again as he whipes his hair side to side like a fluffy dog to get rid of the water that soaked it a little bit. 
He looks ahead to the counter and his mind goes blank as he sees you over there now. At the little chair on the middle of the cafe. You seem lonely, messing with your hair a little bit, making a braid with a single tiny lock. It’s an old habit to make time pass, and Jungkook hates he remembers every little detail about you. His heart now has stopped, dropped to his knees. He really misses you. 
“Bee!” the waiter calls, and Jungkook recognizes the nickname. Knows it’s you, ‘cause he’s the one that gave it to you years ago. Used to call you bee just to make fun of you, ‘cause you’re such a sweet tooth. Never met someone that loves sugar more than you do, so he started to call you that since you two became friends.
He watches at the end of the waiting line as you get up, straight your hand and pick up two cookies in a little pink plate. Chocolate chips cookies. Your favorite. His favorite as well.
You start to eat slowly so he averts his eyes. Doesn’t want to be catch staring and look like a fucking weirdo. It’s not like he drove here to see you. Talk to you. Not at all, the coffee here is great. 
Finally the line walks and it’s his turn. “One black coffee, please. No sugar.” He says softly and suddenly feels his neck start to tingle. Knows you just realized he’s here, and you’re staring at him. Pretends he doesn’t tho, so continues to talk to the waitress as she asks who she would call when it’s ready “JK.” he says, then turns around to look for somewhere to sit and wait for the order. Looks over the table that you originally were, the one you posted a photo of. Then realizes now there’s a couple there, laughing together and taking pics of each other. He knows you. Knows you most likely offered the clingy couple the table, cause the house is full, and you wouldn’t take the table just for yourself. Even if it meant you would end up eating by the counter on the little puffed chair, you loved to drool over the pastries anyways.
He slowly looks the other way. Knows you’re on this direction so he has to be careful. You’re looking down. Seem sad all of the sudden and he just wants to hug you. For fucks sake. This is harder than he thought. 
He sighs again as he realizes the only spots available are the 2 chairs on your right. He chooses the one that’s a little bit far just to be safe.
As he walks down, his chest tightens a little bit more. Now he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It was a bad idea. Doesn’t even remember what the plan was at the first place. 
He can smell your perfume as he walks past you and it’s like someone punches his stomach. Your sweet smell fills his nostrils and he just wants to be closer. Shove his nose on your hair like he used to. Then go down your neck and feel your skin respond with little goosebumps as he moves along it softly. Damn it. Jungkook wants to curse the life out of you but he can’t even bring himself to be mad right now. Only knows he misses you. Your touch. Your kiss. You.
Finally he sits and pretends as if he didn’t notice you there, continually looking over his phone as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world trying to figure out what to do next.
“JK!” The waitress calls him and he’s put out of his own world, looking up right away. You seem to be startled too as you look directly at him. You two look at each other for what seems to be minutes in a trance. You give him a tiny smile. He gives one back.
“JK!” he hears the call again and pulls himself out of the trance, going to grab the coffee from the waitress who’s on your left side. He pays for it and looks at you again. You’re still looking at him. Kinda unsure on how to act, he figures. It’s okay, cause he doesn’t know how to either. 
As he sits, now on the chair closer to your right, he looks straight ahead and takes a gulp of the coffee. ���Fuck!” he curses and pulls the coffee cup away as he burns his tongue with the damn thing.
You laugh thru your nose and his ears rapidly catch the sweet sound he used to hear all the time. Looks sideways to you, “Funny, huh?” he feels the air a little bit less heavy now, and he’s relieved.
“You just never change, Koo.” you say, still with that damn smile on your face he adores so much. He can’t take his eyes off of you. Realizes he never got over you, not even for a second. Probably never will.
“Don’t call me that.” those damned butterflies on his guts as he digests what you’ve said. You know it’s his favorite nickname. Knows only you call him by it. Knows he melts alway with this shit everytime.
You’re staring at him like that. So pretty. Soft brown sparkly eyes he missed so much. Now they seem to start hardening. “I’m sorry.” You say with a broken voice, and he feels the air shift all over again in a matter of seconds. Doesn’t know if you’re apologizing for the sweet nickname. For leaving him. For not calling. For not coming back. For everything. 
“How’s everything?” He tries to ease the air back again. “It’s been a minute.”
He sees the corner of your lips tremble a little bit and you gulp. His chest pangs. Wonders if he did the right thing by pretending you never existed for the past months now. Just wants to make up for all the time both of you lost.
“Yup, it has.” You reply after a while. “I’m doing okay. What about you?” 
You look up at him like everything is okay. If he didn’t know you, he would believe you were. But he knows better. You can’t hide anything from him, really. At least that’s what he thought. Knows he could be wrong, just like he was a year ago too.
“Cool. I’m cool.” he licks his dry lips and starts to think about his next move. Mind starts to blow up, a trillion thoughts at the same time and he’s back at it again. Can’t put his neurons to work properly. You’re actually right here in front of him, how is he supposed to?
Seems like you’re struggling yourself too. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to come up with an excuse to leave right now, or trying to find a subject in common as well.
 You stare at your now half eaten cookie like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. The other one is already on the bag to go. You probably were planning on taking home to eat when the late night sweet crave hits you, like he remembers. Will put it on the microwave so it gets warm again and take a cup of milk with you, like you used to. Turn on netflix and watch one of those lame cooking programs, ‘cause you loved to waste your time watching people losing their heads to make giant chocolate sculptures. He secretly loved watching it with you. It’s the reason he watched every episode back and forth while you were away too.  
“Is Bamie okay?” you murmur, now staring at your coffee cup with a little smile, thinking about the little puppy. Remembers how energetic and loving he was. Just like Jungkook. “You haven’t posted him in a while now.”
His tongue feels bittersweet again. He’s somehow happy knowing that you’ve been catching up with his life throught social media, even tho he disappears once in a while. At the same time, he’s sad. You could have been there for Bam. Should have, since you are the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Said he needed a little friend to match up with his chaotic energy. He ended up convinced and adopted the little guy. You always tended to get the best of him. Promised you’d help him to take good care of the baby, but only spent three months with Bam. Still, it’s like the puppy knows something is missing. Every night he looks over the door at any noise, like he’s expecting you to come throught it. Just like Jungkook used to do for the first months back then. 
“He’s great, actually. Bigger than I expected him to be. Eats like a fucking bear.” he giggles a little remembering his big boy. “He’s loud too. Don’t know how the neighbors still haven’t ganged up against me to kick us out of the apartment.”
You giggle alongside him imagining the chaos those two must have been doing together. “I figured. You always have spoiled him too much. Told ya he would get bad habits.”
“Hey! You spoiled him too!” he throws it right back. Remembers how you used to let Bam sleep with the two of you on bed. It took him months to break that habit from the puppy’s routine.
You look up at him and smiles. Bright now. You know he’s right. You’ve treated that puppy like it was your own son. Kinda misses the three of you together like a big happy family.
Suddenly a loud thunder is heard and both of you look out the foggy window at the same time. The sky is even darker now, angrily pouring rain like it’s the end of the earth. The coffee shop is emptier. Everyone outside your bubble must’ve realized that it was no longer safe to be out in the streets. But here you two are. Letting time pass by, enjoying each others presence even if it’s kinda weird. Kinda sad after all these months apart.
Jungkook knows it’s time to act. Step up and do what he was planning since he left home. Can’t bring himself to. Is too scared you will say no. Too scared you will let him down again. 
“I think I should get going.” you say softly wrapping up what is left of the cookie and putting it on your bag over the counter. “The weather is getting worst.”
“Want a ride home?” Jungkook quickly says before he looses the sudden courage. Sees you're taken aback so he continues, “I know you won’t be able to catch an uber or taxi right now.”
You still wonder a little bit. Jungkook’s anxiety is bubbling up again as he waits your answer. Why can’t you accept a simple offer? You can’t stand the thought of being around him? Do you hate him? Perhaps you don’t want him in your life ever again. You want to stay like this. Just be somebody that he used to know.
And that’s what scares him the most.
“I brought an umbrella” you finally say. Jungkook frowns. Knows you have no umbrella with you, he would’ve seen it by now.
He puffs. Knows it’s bullshit, but won’t call it. “Right. Suit yourself.” Then he gets up, forgets his full coffee by the counter, now cold. He feels fucking cold too. Already regrets coming to this stupid cafe, in this stupid weather, for no stupid reason. He takes his sweatshirt off and puts it over his head so the rain won’t get to him this time. Opens the door.
“Jungkook! Wait!” you suddenly say. “I actually didn’t.” you say pouty, coming up to him.
He doesn’t say anything. Just takes his sweatshirt, puts it over your head instead. He was wearing his taegeuk warriors jersey underneath it, will definitely get soacked but can’t bring himself to care at all. Just cares about you. Holds the glass door for you just like old times. You look up at him with your big doll eyes and he can’t do anything but look back. It’s like you want to talk through them. He wonders what’s going through your pretty little head right now. Probably overthinking too much, just like he does. 
“C’mon," he softly says "Let’s get you home.”
yayyy there it goes! my first ff ever i'm so happy <3 this was supposed to be an oneshot but i got carried away and wrote more than i expected so i had to cut it off hehe
also, please be aware that english is not my native language so i’m sorry if there’s any typos 🥹
i'll upload part 2 soon! if you want to be tagged pls comment under the post :) thanks for reading xx
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rboooks · 10 months
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DC X DP fic: Legal Compensation
Bruce Wayne doesn't know what sick monster would think it is funny to ruin Jason's grave, but when an alert arrives at the cave, he's flying towards the cemetery intending to find out.
And teach them some respect.
Of course, he knows Jason's not in there- not after his son returned with more hate and rage than a person- but it was still his last resting place.
He barely acknowledges Tim and Damian pulling up beside the Batmobile, each on their own bike while Dick, Steph, and Cass fly above him. They all got the alert. None of them are happy.
When they arrive, it's to see a teenager happily whistling as he shovels away layers of dirt. The stranger is in a white and black hoodie, a neon green ghost crossing from the front to the back, and his white hair with glowing green eyes lets them know it's not a human.
Or if it is, then not an average human. Meta, based on how he picks up way more dirt than he should be able to lift with his glowing green shovel.
They also see Jason get there first, his eyes glowing in Pit Rage and .points a gun to the back of the teenager's head. Bruce opens his mouth to shout, Damian manages to throw a ninja star, but they are far too late.
Jason pulls the trigger. A large bang is heard across the cemetery. The teenager drops into the deep hole he is making.
The family can only watch as the Pit Rage disappears from Jason's mind, and horror creeps onto his face as he realizes what he has done. It's too late now, though. The child is dead.
Bruce feels sick to his stomach- and then The teenager stands up, his head reforming in terrible familiar green liquid. The family forms a protective circle around a frozen Jason as the teenager turns around to look at them with Lazarus' green eyes and smiles.
Smiles at Jason with far too bright eyes. "I found you! I didn't realize you already left your grave, but that makes things easier. Jason Peter Todd, yes?"
"Who are you?" Bruce demands, stepping before his second oldest.
The white hair boy's smile becomes wider- if that's possible. "I'm Phantom. I'm working on behalf of the Ghost King."
Damian hisses, "What does the most powerful being in the multiverse want with Todd?"
"Baby Bat?" Dick asks without really asking.
"The Ghost King is the ruler of the Infinite Realms. The place where grandfather harvests the Lazarus Pit."
That's not good.
The teenager laughs. "The very same. He wants me to offer Legal Compensation to Mr. Todd."
"Legal Compensation? For what?" Tim asks this time.
"The glitch. See, Mr.Todd wasn't supposed to die- he was supposed to break the door and crawl to safety while the bomb jammed. At the same time, the Master of Time was preoccupied with another dimension saving the lives of six very important people to the Ghost King from a junk food explosion. Because of that, he was not there to control time correctly, creating a glitch in this universe's time flow. It speeded up certain areas, in your case, the location of the bomb's jam, making it explode earlier than it should have. He corrected it by bringing you back, but you were in a grave by that point. The Master of Time realized the grave injustice this was, so he sent me as legal Compensation."
That.... was a lot.
"How are you legal compensation?" Jason growls.
"Well, those people were just as important to me as the Ghost King. Since you lost your life due to the incident, I will give you my natural life here as a human for you to use." The teenager's form shifts after an ample bright light, and suddenly they are looking at a perfectly black hair blue eye average looking human who smiles happily at them. "Ta-da! So what do you want me to do first, Master Todd?"
"No." Jason hisses, looking angrier than he's ever looked before. Bruce can't say he doesn't feel the same way. "No, the Master of Time does not get to kill me. Go oopsie-daisy and then send me a fucking slave as an apology!"
"Not a slave- more of a- ugh Bulter!" The teenager argues, trying to crawl out of the hole and falling down, into a heap as he oversteps. "Wow, being a full human is going to get some getting use to."
"No!" Jason yells, turns around, and walks away.
"Wait! Wait! Master Todd, wait for me!" The teenager calls desperately, but Jason disappears into the shadows of Gotham without a backward glance. The boy slides into the mudd, voice muffled as he screams.
Steph takes pity on him offering her hand to help him out of the hole. "What's your name, by the way?"
"Phantom." The teenager says with a grateful smile taking the hand and climbing out. He gives the rest of the family an awkward smile "Danny Phantom"
Bruce ends up with another son by the following day. Jason ends up with a restless wanna-be butler who follows him everywhere, trying to serve him. The fact he cure his Pit Madness didn't seem to even register with him.
Jason wants Danny to leave him alone and quit the "I must spend the rest of my human life providing for your every whim". It's getting creepy.
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avelera · 1 year
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Was thinking about how Hob and Dream could both be insufferable in some way because, in fairness, Hob comes across as someone who could make friends with bread if left in a room with it long enough.
Then I had a thought:
What if Hob Gadling is just super fucking insufferable to other immortals?
See, Dream is... difficult for mortals to get because he's got his whole eldritch thing going on. But while he's not particularly popular with them, I imagine other immortals at least get and respect his whole deal. Like, he's the Dreamlord. Of course he's weird. But they understand the laws and principles he's referring to at least when he's being weird. He seems to at least have a pleasant relationship with the Faerie Court. It's mortals who can't really connect with Dream and find him exasperating as a result.
Whereas Hob gets along great with mortals, just swell. He's Just A Guy who happens to live forever and people get along with him. But immortals? We don't really see it much but immortals positively loathe this guy.
Dream's reaction to the whole, "I've made up my mind, I've decided not to die!"? Hob tossed out in 1389? That's the teeth-grinding level of irritation Hob engenders in every immortal he comes across (before they have centuries to get to know him) and it is exactly why Death just had to make this man immortal because it would be hilarious.
Why doesn't Hob hang out with other immortals besides Dream? Because the minute he opens his mouth about how great life is and how he's never had even a moment's doubt about how much he wants to live, every immortal in the room starts to make the gagging motion.
You're an immortal just trying to have a bit of a kvetch about Kids These Days and how much times have changed and how it was better in your day, and there's Hob fucking Gadling again ready to throw down about how amazing antibiotics and automobiles and the latest iPhone number whatever are and like, sure, but you were just trying to say back in your day things were better, right? Not objectively maybe but you're just trying to indulge in a bit of immortal nostalgia and Hob fucking Gadling is not having any of it and is ready to argue you into the dirt about it.
You're immortal but haven't quite kept up on today's slang? Hob Gadling will absolutely call you out and he's a teacher now so he's going to be super nice about it but you know he's judging you for saying groovy unironically and thinks you should get with the times already.
You're a vampire living off centuries of generational wealth? Hob keeps talking about how you should get a job and get out of the spooky mansion more, and maybe you wouldn't feel so much existential angst. You like your existential angst!
Hob doesn't have a single ounce of patience for immortals who want to wax poetic about wishing they were mortal again. Diseases, he says, have you ever had diseases? Like even a cold? It sucks. It really fucking sucks. The Plague? The fucking worst. You don't need to be mortal to get involved in mortal life, Hob fucking Gadling keeps pointing out at the monthly eldritch coffee meetups. You can just live as a mortal and share in their problems and enjoy the fact you don't have to deal with the shit parts like getting sick. Completely missing the point of the futile lamentation of regretting one's lost mortality is something you enjoy.
Hob harshes the vibe of every single immortal out there. They are so goddamn sick of him. There's a reason he has no apparent immortal friends or connections to the supernatural world despite (in the comics) seeming to have met other immortals and having the occasional supernatural encounter that he immediately brushes off as dull when compared to what the normal, every day world has to offer.
No other immortal can fucking figure out what Dream of the Endless sees in this guy, and how he can stand to talk to him even once a century without storming off (which, in fairness, Dream has done on 2/7 occasions). Dream, not otherwise known for his patience, is seen as a saint in the eldritch community for even spending as much time as he has over the course of 600+ years with Hob fucking Gadling.
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back2bluesidex · 7 months
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25 and Virgin - PJM (18+)
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Pairing: Jimin X Fem!Reader
Theme: PWP, SMUT
Wordcount: 1.8k+
Summary: You are 25 and virgin but maybe your crush slash senior Park Jimin can change that tonight.
Warnings: Explicit sex, mentions of dying as a joke, a little bit of dirty talking, reader loses her virginity, sex on a balcony, oral sex (f. receiving), creampie, mentions of pain during sex, semi public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it!!), NSFW!! (let me know if there is more)
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: Happy birthday to my home, Park Jimin. Can't believe he is 28? are you kidding me?
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"Were you serious earlier?" His voice rings behind you through the balcony door. 
If it's not the cold wind of night then it's definitely the mellow, smooth voice of Park Jimin that causes chills to run down your spine. 
Especially when you know what he is asking about.
"About.. what?" You speak without looking at him so that the red flush of embarrassment is not visible to him. 
Jimin takes a few steps and comes to stand beside you. 
His eyes find your face and if you are not completely wrong then those dip down to your lips. 
"You know what I am talking about but still if you want to hear me saying it then…" he continues smugly, "are you really a virgin?" 
Your tongue gets caught between your teeth as you curse your childish coworkers for dragging you into the childish game of truth and dare. 
You knew something like this would happen. But you couldn't say no, since you joined only two months ago and rejecting to be a part of stupid games of team-dinner-turned-norebang sessions is certainly rude. You couldn't risk your image even before you get the chance of making it. 
However, you expected them to show you the same level of respect and not poke you into your private boundaries. 
Guess what? You were wrong. 
Because the very first question landed on you was "what's your favorite sex position?" 
God! You can’t mold it into words how embarrassed you were to tell them that you haven't had sex yet. It’s only your fingers and you. 
Yes, you know you could have lied easily but what if they tease you endlessly after that? How will you react around them? And honestly, not a single position came in your head at that time for you to answer so you ended up being brutally honest. 
All of these would not matter much. 
All of these wouldn't matter at all if your crush slash senior Park Jimin wasn't sitting right across from you, if you didn't see his beautiful eyes getting wider with your answer, if he wouldn't come to find you here in the balcony.
What must he be thinking? Something like, you aren't hot enough to be bedded? God! You just want this ground to split in half and sink into it.
Jimin nudges your arm with his elbow pulling you out of your brooding session.
"I asked you something?" His voice is soft, there is no sense of mockery in it. So you decide to answer honestly.
"Yes." You sigh, "yes, I am 25 and virgin." 
You close your eyes as soon as the sentence dies. 
Jimin smiles, taking a lingering look on your figure. He still doesn't understand how the fuck no one has fucked you yet? You are so damn beautiful and that body is something anyone would die to explore. Maybe he would too, only if he wasn’t so against fucking inexperienced people. 
"Y/N, it's alright. There's no need to be embarrassed. It's your life, you have the right to live however you want." He places a hand on your shoulder. 
If your heart takes up a faster pace, then you don't want to dwell on it.
"It's not my choice, Jimin. I just- I just never found anyone.. you know." You stare down at the cars rushing by through the busy streets of Seoul. 
“But you have had boyfriends, right?” Jimin asks, you somehow feel him standing closer than before. 
“One boyfriend back in highschool and we never pushed anything past foreplay and then I got busy with uni and internships. So.. stuff never happened. At this point it feels like no one would want a 25 year old virgin. Everyone would want a partner who at least has some experience.” you sigh again. 
“That’s not true. Anyone would want you and I am not saying this to comfort you, but from the perspective of a man.” Jimin squeezes your shoulder. 
You divert your eyes from the road below and look at him. 
Park Jimin is beautiful but he looks extra beautiful tonight standing here with you. 
His soft black hair falls onto his dark eyes, those soft plump lips invites you to bite them, his muscles and manly chest heave with every breath he takes. You lose yourself a little. You get drunk by him so much that you find your mouth running ahead of your mind.
“Anyone would? You too?” You take a tentative step towards him. 
A flash of playfulness flashes through his face, “I would love to, darling. But I don’t fuck virgins.” 
That’s it. That’s the rejection of a lifetime you have been waiting for. You took a step back just as you took it ahead. 
What were you even thinking? Popular Park Jimin would want to sleep with someone as inexperienced as you? How bold! Now your embarrassment has reached its peak. You are not only a virgin now but a rejected virgin. 
Fucking hell! You want to jump off this balcony, break your head and die. 
But before that you should apologize of your unnecessary boldness, “I’m so-” 
“I would love to eat you out though. Bet your untouched pussy tastes amazing.” Jimin cuts you off and cages you between your arms, “do you want me to eat you here in the balcony?”. 
Blood rushes to your cheeks and flood rushes to your cunt as you try to contemplate what Jimin is offering, “what-”
“Yes or no, Y/N?” Jimin cuts you off again. 
“Yes!” you reply without giving it another thought. You may not get this offer ever again. 
“Good girl.” Jimin smirks at you deviliously as he sinks down on his knees before you.
“But what if someone sees us?” your heart thumps in your chest. 
“Shut up and part your legs for me.” Jimin orders but there is no bite in his tone. You oblige readily. 
He hikes up your skirt and places a few kisses on your thighs. You feel yourself leaking more and more as he inches closer to your cunt. 
“Fuck. you smell so good, sweetheart!” Jimin sniffs your arousal through the cotton of your panty. 
If he says he had never thought of fucking you raw, then that will be a lie. The reality is that you caught his eyes the moment you were assigned under him. It’s been only two months so he couldn’t have his way with you yet. But he never imagined you would be a virgin and he would get a chance of tasting you like this. 
He would love to fuck you too but at first you need to have a basic experience, because he is way too wild for someone so inexperienced as you. 
“J-Jimin, please.” you mutter and Jimin swears it’s the sweetest thing he has ever heard.
“Be patient, sweetheart.” he replies before hiking your skirt further with one of his hands and tugging down your panty with another one. 
You knock the piece of cloth out of your ankles. 
Even though it’s dark on the balcony, Jimin can clearly see your glinting pussy under the moonlight. You are nothing short of divine. 
He grabs your left thigh and hooks it on his shoulder, parting your pussy deliciously for his eyes and mouth. 
And without so much as a breath, he dives down. 
The first drag if his tongue is slow and teasing, it knocks all of the available air out of your lungs. You see stars above your head. So, this is how it feels to have your cunt eaten?
Jimin hums at your taste and then grazes your clit with his teeth. Parting your folds with his fingers, he latches his plump lips to your nub and starts sucking wildly. 
“Oh-Oh Jim-Jimin'' You struggle to breathe, mind going numb in an instant. 
And then you feel his fingers probing into your entrance. He invades your walls with not one but two of his fingers at once.
“Fuckkkk” you curse. Your ears take in the lewd sound of your wet pussy being sucked, licked and fingered. 
Jimin is not doing any better. He knew you would taste delicious but he never imagined you would taste this addictive. 
His lips, tongue and fingers can’t get enough of you. Damn! His dick needs you. 
He needs to be inside you to insatiate the beast you just woke up by being this addictive. 
“Jimin-Jimin I may be-” you try to find your voice, your knuckles are going white with the dead grip you have on the balcony railing. 
Your eyes start rolling back but then you feel everything feeling low and empty. 
Jimin detaches his face from your core and looks up at you, “close? But we don’t have time for multiple orgasms. I need you to cum on my cock.” 
He stands up and starts undoing his belt. 
You don’t know whether you should praise his beauty, which has increased by tenfold as he is drenched in your juices or the taut muscle of his torso or the beautiful dick that springs out of his briefs ready to ruin you. 
Jimin grips your thigh again, encircles that around his torso and lines his cock in your entrance. 
“It will hurt a little in the beginning but soon it will feel good, okay?” He says softly, removing a lone strand of hair from your face.
“But I thought you don’t fuck virgins?” you huff. 
“You are fucking addicting, Y/N. I can’t control myself.” He breathes as he pushes the tip inside you. 
He is almost midway through your cunt when you feel a painful stretch, your face contorts as a result but you want him to go on. 
“You okay? Should I continue?” Jimin questions, you nod voicelessly. 
And within a few seconds he is completely in. He gives you the time to adjust before starting to move. 
Once you have managed yourself and the pain, you ask him to move. 
It’s painful, overwhelmingly so. But the way Jimin groans and grunts tells you that you have a weird power over him. 
“So fucking tight. Lord! You will be the death of me.” Jimin groans again as he thrusts slowly. 
Soon you feel the pain fading behind an immense pleasure. 
You moan out loud as Jimin gradually increases his pace. For a moment there are only sounds of heavy breathing, you two moaning each other’s names, cursing and skin slapping. Jimin’s dick feels amazing against the tight walls of your cunt, so much so that you start feeling heat in your stomach. 
“You are squeezing the hell out of me, Y/N!” Jimin growls again. 
“I-I’m close.” You say somehow.
“Cum on my cock baby. Creame it!” and you do. You cum and the orgasm is nothing you have had with the help of your fingers. 
“Fuck fuck fuck!” Jimin shouts in your neck as he cums inside you following your suite. His white hot semen runs down your thigh and drops on the floor. 
You are trying to find your breath and wit, when you heard Jimin say, “Round two at my place?”
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae
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shuahoonie · 1 year
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to you | yoon jeonghan
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pairing: non-idol!jeonghan (svt) x female!reader
notes: fake dating, fluff, swearing, friends to potential lovers, platonic!svt x reader, jealousy! jealousy!, loosely based on the song to you by seventeen
word count: 2.09k
summary: to avoid another blind date, you ask jeonghan to be your pretend boyfriend to get your mom off your back. the kicker? jeonghan secretly enjoys being your pretend boyfriend.
part of the to x, with love mini series
shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist
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"hannie," you pouted at jeonghan who was busy with inventory. you met jeonghan at the quaint cafe that he and seungcheol own. jeonghan was terrorizing seungcheol a couple of hours ago before seungcheol got annoyed and had him do inventory instead.
jeonghan knew where this was going and he knew he'll probably give in to whatever favour you had in store because that's what good friends do. "what?"
"promise you won't get mad at me?" you asked with beaming eyes.
"did you lose your key to your place again?!" jeonghan had to change the locks of your door about a couple of times now and each time you get locked out, you'd have to crash with one of them— mostly jeonghan's place, though. "honestly, yn, at this point you just have to live with one of us."
"no," you drawled as you sat on one of the boxes in the storage room. "i mean, i'm having them changed now to passcode locks instead." you said with a sheepish smile.
all jeonghan could do was shake his head. "okay, do you need a place to crash for the meanwhile then?" he asked with a raised brow.
"actually, i'm here for a different thing, hannie." you said with the softest tone that you could muster— one that had jeonghan cross his arms out of sheer intrigue and the one that made you almost physically recoil. you were never one to act cute.
"yes, i'm listening," jeonghan was teasing and if you weren't so desperate you would've slapped the daylights out of him.
"so, you know how i was at my parents' place for dinner the other night?" you started off. you couldn't even look him in the eye, you were trying to calm yourself down by playing with your fingernails.
"yes, i had to pick you up that day because you were afraid of taking the subway," jeonghan said, arms still crossed.
"well, the thing is," you let out a nervous laugh, "i told my parents that we're—" you were cut off by the door swinging open.
"you two better not be making out back here," seungcheol said as soon as he entered the storage room, hands pressed against his eyes.
"you're fucking annoying, cheol," you threw a piece of trashed bubble wrap at him.
"well, what on earth could you two be doing back here?" he said with a teasing look. "unless–"
not willing to hear his comment further, "is there something you need, cheollie?" you asked with a forced smile.
"no, but there's someone looking for you by the register." cheol said, crossing his arms.
“who?” you asked.
cheol shrugged. “beats me, he looks like he’s around our age though. could it be one of the guys you had a blind date with?”
you were about to head to the floor when jeonghan pulled you aside.
“do you want me to come with you?” jeonghan asked. from the corner of his eye, jeonghan could see cheol fighting off a smirk.
“i think i’ll be fine,” you smiled at him. “thanks, hannie.”
while you were out to seek whoever was looking for you, seungcheol nudged jeonghan playfully. "do you want me to come with you?" seungcheol mocked jeonghan's tone, teasing him.
"shut up, cheol." jeonghan grumbled, annoyed.
"dude, it's so obvious that you like her." cheol laughed "i don't get why you just can't ask her out."
"because," jeonghan sighed "it'll just be weird and awkward and i don't want to lose her."
"so you're fine with all of this?" cheol nodded in your direction. "even when there are random guys popping out of nowhere?"
"hey, it's not like she can do anything about it!" jeonghan pointed out defensively "besides, she can see whoever she want."
"yeah, whatever." cheol grumbled, unconvinced. jeonghan and seungcheol eventually headed out to the floor, only to find you talking to a guy who seemed persistent on not leaving you alone.
"i told you, peter," you sighed in frustration "i'm sure you're nice and all, but there wasn't any spark, like at all."
"but—"
"but nothing! i'm sure your mom would understand why the date didn't work out." you said, crossing your arms. you were getting frustrated.
"is it because i talked too much?"
"well—" you were cut off when jeonghan suddenly appeared beside you, placing a firm hand on your waist. jeonghan would always observe first before he intervened.
peter’s eyes flickered to where jeonghan’s hand was and immediately got the message.
"actually, it’s because i’m seeing someone else.” you answered a little too gleefully. everything is falling into place, it seems. jeonghan, on the other hand, was feeling a bit
peter, dumbfounded by the fact that you were already seeing someone after just 2 weeks of being set up on a blind date with him, apologized and left quickly.
as soon as peter was out of sight, you gave jeonghan a small hug. "thanks, hannie," you mumbled.
"it's no problem," jeonghan chuckled. "what was it that you wanted to say earlier?" he asked, referring to the conversation you two had before seungcheol barged into the storage room.
"oh, well, it's actually pretty convenient that you said that to peter because..." you trailed off.
"because?" jeonghan was looking at you intently, curiosity dancing in his eyes.
"it's funny, actually." you let out a strained laugh. you felt like your heart was going to explode. “promise you won’t judge?”
"i promise. besides, how bad can it be?" he was amused at how awkward you’ve gotten. “unless it has something to do with what you said earlier about us dating—“ by this time, you were avoiding your eyes. “no way!” jeonghan exclaimed. “did you tell your mom that we’re dating?”
"hannie!” you smacked his arm “you promised!”
“okay, okay,” he grinned. “but why me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
you gave him a pointed look. “i don’t like what you’re insinuating, yoon jeonghan.”
“i’m just curious.” he raised his arms in defence. “i’m absolutely not saying that this has anything to do when we were in high school.”
“oh god, not this again.” you moaned. “for the last time, it was just a tiny crush, yoon jeonghan!”
“if it was a tiny crush then why did you look so excited after we kissed.”
“seriously, jeonghan, we were 15!” you groaned. “it was the teenage hormones!”
“and?” jeonghan gave you a blank stare “you still walked away with my first kiss!”
“it was spin the bottle!” you argued “and that was my first kiss too, dumbass!”
“that still doesn’t change the fact that you kissed me in high school.”
“hannie, it’s been more than a decade, please let it go.” you groaned, embarrassed. “it’s not like you reciprocated my feelings back then.” you thought.
“fine,” jeonghan caved in “but if this is your way of saying that you still have feelings for me, then there will be consequences.”
you rolled your eyes at his parting comment. only yoon jeonghan can make such comments enough to make you feel dizzy.
the day you invited jeonghan for a proper dinner, as per your mom’s request, you had no idea that there will be intense reactions.
“now what’s this dinner i keep hearing about you and jeonghan,” minghao asked as he watched you carefully pack the art materials that hao has been wishing to borrow.
“my mom invited him for dinner, for formalities apparently,” you replied putting air quotes on the word ‘formalities’.
your mom had forced you to invite your ‘boyfriend’ for a proper dinner in the upcoming weekend. you were opposed to it at first because it was weird. they already know jeonghan, they’ve had meals together. you two have been friends since you were children.
apparently, this is a big deal for your mom. she had always been rooting for you and jeonghan to become a couple ever since you were teenagers. however, she lost hope when she found out that jeonghan had been dating around and you were constantly met with failed relationships. hence, she took matters into her own hands and started setting you up in blind dates. suffice to say, your mom has been unsuccessful.
“so it’s true?” hao asked with a teasing smirk. you looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “that you two are dating?”
“it’s only been 2 days, how—“ you were more impressed by the fact that hao already knew about the dinner.
“is it true then?” he pressed on.
“the dinner? yeah,” you answered innocently, earning you a playful smack with a pillow— courtesy of hao.
“you damn well know what i mean,” hao said, giving you another smack with a pillow. “did jeonghan finally admit his eternal love for you?”
“hao, do you actually think—“
“yes.” hao answered, not even letting you finish. “i do know this because i’ve seen him flirt with you relentlessly, even when we’re around.”
“hao, must you forget that he would act like that around anything that has a pulse.” you replied. “plus, i don’t think nagging people into wearing a jacket so they won’t get cold is considered flirting.”
“babe, he nagged you into bringing a jacket because he wanted to spend more time with you while we were at around the campfire.” minghao pointed out.
“okay, but he also said that to mingyu!” you reasoned.
“that’s because mingyu’s an idiot.” hao deadpanned, making you gasp.
“hao!”
“what? i love mingyu with all might heart, but seriously. the man never dresses according to the weather.” he mumbled. “and you’re not going to steer the topic away!”
you huffed, crossing your arms. “we’re not actually dating, hao.”
“mhm,” minghao hummed, obviously not convinced. “so, what prompted all of this to happen then?”
“i needed to get mom off my back! the blind dates were starting to get ridiculous.” you said, exasperated.
“so you told her that you and jeonghan are dating?” you nodded. “and now jeonghan is your fake boyfriend?” again, you nodded. “okay, then why did you ask him when you could’ve asked me?” minghao pressed on.
“hao, is this your way of professing your undying love for me?” you teased, playfully batting your eyelashes at him.
minghao smacked you with a pillow in return. “i sincerely wish that you can hear the words you’re saying,” hao deadpanned. “so, aside from me, does anyone know you’re fake dating then?”
“well, on my end, it’s just you, hao.” you said, passing him the tote bag full of art supplies. “unless jeonghan says anything but i totally doubt it.”
the day of the dreaded dinner came and of course, hao was the first to pester you by texting: "good luck on ur dinner babe! lmk if there's a proposal by the end of the night >:)"
you rolled your eyes at the text and replied with a middle-finger emoji, diverting your attention back to your mom who seemed like she won a million dollars.
both of your parents were sitting across you and jeonghan, so you can see the flashy smile she has directly. jeonghan was playing with your free hand underneath the table. it’s not like he was nervous about the dinner, but holding your hand was enough to put him at ease.
"you know, i had an inkling that you two would eventually get together" your mom said with a smirk.
“how so?” jeonghan asked with a teasing smile, as if to torture you even more. sitting next to him gave you the privilege to slap him on the thigh, letting go from his grip. jeonghan gave a muted yelp, indicating the pain, before holding your hand again.
“oh you know,” your mom trailed off, as if to build suspense, making you die a little bit more. “i’ve always seen the way you two would look at each other, the playful bickers, how you treat each other,” your mom nodded to your dad, who was looking at your mom with adoring eyes. “we’ve been there.”
“did you hear that?” jeonghan leaned closer to your ear “that’s going to be us, one day.” making you squirm from your seat.
“hannie!” you pushed his face far from you “quit it.” you hissed under your breath, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
“oh, i’m just so happy that you two are together now.” your mom sighed happily. “you two look happier around each other.”
“we do, don’t we?” jeonghan agreed with a soft smile, enough to make you feel like none of this was an act. in fact, a small part of you wanted to believe that this is not all an act for your mom.
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BONUS: you are that person.
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hi guys! sorry if this took ageeees. a lot of things had happened, and hopefully i can get back on track with posting semi-regularly.
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strawbeerossi · 7 months
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Smarty Pants
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Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: After you and your boyfriend get into an argument over some trivia questions at work and he acts high and mighty when proven right, you have just the way to set him straight.
Content/Warnings: Mentions of an argument, not too explicit smut, dumbification, sub!spencer, dom!reader.
Word Count: 0.6K
Kinktober Day Seven: Dumbification
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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You were in the middle of neglecting your work while doing trivia with the others who were crowded around your desk. “Which country consumes the chocolate per capita?” Emily asked, looking over the index card in her hand. You didn’t even know what prompted this little game but you and Derek were going up against one another and so far, you were killing it. That’s made you so confident about your answer.
“Easy. Germany.” You responded while leaning back against your chair, only rolling your eyes as you heard a soft scoff from the desk across from yours. “It’s right!” You huffed while causing Spencer to look up. “Actually Switzerland is the country that consumes the most chocolate. How did you not know that? Chocolate is literally something they are known for.” The male asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Switzerland is actually  renowned for its milk chocolate, the most consumed type of chocolate. Did you know that in 1875, a Swiss confectioner, Daniel Peter, developed the first solid milk chocolate using condensed milk, which had been invented by Henri Nestlé, who was Peter's neighbour in Vevey?” 
Like most info dumps Spencer had been known to give, this just made everyone stare at him with blank stares, besides you.. You were fucking livid. There was no way he was right. Just this once, he was wrong. There was no way.
“If you don’t believe me then you can look it up online.” He stated in a simple tone. He more than likely wasn’t meaning to but he agitated the hell out of you. So bad that you decided to quickly type up the trivia question in the search bar. Sure enough, he was fucking right. The look on your face made him smirk from being triumphant, turning back to the stack of files on his desk. “I told you so.” He stated, proud of himself.
The rest of the day, you were annoyed. You wanted to break his glasses, make hi blind until he could get his hands on contacts. You kept your composure through the work day.
Until you got home.
That’s why you were here now, perched on his cock while he was a blubbering mess on your living room couch. “You really felt so smart earlier but now you can't even form a coherent sentence. What happened to Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius who knows everything?” You’d taunted, hand having his hair tugged back to make him face you. His eyes were glossed over, the amount of edging you’d been doing for the past hour making him desperate. 
He’d been reduced to whines and begs of more, unable to even process the words that were being spoken by you. “Look at you, smart little Spencer Reid being fucked dumb. You don't have another statistic?” You taunted, now it being your turn to be satisfied as he was unable to respond. That IQ 187 had dropped to a staggering two as he had his glasses fogged up, sweat dripping from his forehead from all the stimulation.
“My beautiful, dumb baby boy.” You cooed, moving to cup his cheek with one hand. “Can’t even form the words to speak because I’ve turned that pretty brain to mush.” It was like the words went in one of his ears and out the other. “If only the office could see you now. Fucked to the point you can’t even process what I’m saying. Then again, they don’t deserve to see you like this..” You let your hand slide to his neck now, wrapping it so gently around his throat before giving it a squeeze.
“I like when my big and cocky smart boy is nothing but a little dumb fuck toy.”
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whateveriwant · 25 days
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Choice
Summary: Simon forces you to choose. Him, your husband… or the other man he found in your bed.
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
Word Count: ~2.6k
Warnings: ANGST
A/N: Forgive me.
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“Simon!” you gasp, bolting upright in bed.
There, darkening the doorway to your bedroom, stands your beloved husband. You thought you'd spotted something lurking in the shadows of your periphery, but rather than it being a mere figment of your imagination like you'd hoped, you've come to find out that's not at all the case.
Simon’s brows are knitted tightly together, the lines framing the sides of mouth deepening as he begins to scowl. “Fuckin’ knew it,” he grits out. “Knew you were a fuckin’ liar.” His eyes flit back and forth between you and the figure lying beside you in bed, and if looks could kill, you'd both be six feet under.
“Simon, no, wait–!” You're quick to shoo the other male from your bed even as your husband storms away. Jumping to your feet, you chase after him, tugging your shirt into place from where it had ridden up. Simon’s just reached the living room when you manage to catch up with him. “Simon, please just–”
“When will enough be enough?” he cuts you short as he whirls around to confront you. You've never seen such anger rippling from him before, and it makes you recoil, stopping dead in your tracks. “When's it gonna end, huh? You promised me you were gonna fuckin’ stop this.”
“I-I-I know I did, Simon,” your voice trembles under the weight of your shame.
He's right. After the last time, you’d told him that was it, that it would never happen again.
So much for keeping your promise.
“I'm– I'm so sorry,” you try to offer him, for whatever it may be worth.
Apparently, it's worth very little as he proceeds to scoff right in your face.
“You’re ‘sorry’?” His expression pinches to show how he takes offense to that apology. “That’s three times this month I've caught you. Three. Let alone how many other times I'm sure have been behind my back.”
Again, he’s right on the target. You’ve been dishonest with your husband, been deceiving him more times than you can even remember at this point. Though you're in no place to feel as if you're the one that's been hurt in this situation, you can't help how his biting words feel like daggers plunging right into your stomach.
Simon sighs and brings a hand up to rub his forehead, the self-soothing gesture doing nothing to soften the lines creasing his skin. After a while, he asks, “Why?” his voice much calmer than it was a moment ago. “Why d’you keep doin’ this? Lyin’? Sneakin’ around?”
When he drops his hand to look at you again, you can see how quickly his emotions have shifted from fury to sorrow. The sight of his grief almost wrenches your heart in two, and you swallow the lump in your throat, your own emotions threatening to spill forth and choke you.
“I… I don't know,” you tell him, yet another lie.
You know the truth behind your actions, the real reason you can't break this bad habit. It's because you're selfish; because you're spineless; because you're fucking weak.
Your answer, the unconvincing slop that is, isn't good enough for Simon, and his shoulders rise in a show of perplexity. “Am I not treatin’ you right? I've been withholdin’ from you? Is that it?”
You're shaking your head before he even finishes the inquiry. “No, Simon. It's nothing like that,” you say.
“Well then, explain it to me.” He tosses a hand into the air, the frustration in his tone palpable. “Because I'm tryin’ to understand what makes him so bloody special. What is it about him that makes you treat me like a fuckin’ afterthought?”
“I don't–!” you begin, the accusation immediately putting you on the defense. But then you pause and intake a deep breath, trying to rein yourself back in. The last thing you want is to strike a match against this highly combustible conversation. If ignited, this powder keg runs the risk of taking you both out with it.
You take another moment to collect yourself before releasing an audible exhale. “Yes, he means a lot to me–”
“Oh, well, I'm bloody well aware of that, thank you.”
You ignore the derisive comment as you continue, “–but you're my husband, Simon. At the end of the day, I always want you,” you emphasize. You can feel a stitch forming between your brows as they slowly pull together. “I know you're upset with me – and I understand, truly – but I… I-I just…” your voice trails off as you consider your next words.
You know what you want to say, what niggling thought you want to express. But you're not sure if voicing it aloud is the right move to take. You're trying to cool down the tension here, not potentially add fuel to the fire.
But as Simon prompts, “What?” you realize there's no backing out of it now.
You sigh. “I just think you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion.”
The way your husband's eyes immediately widen tell you it was probably better to have kept your mouth shut.
“Blowin’ thi–?!” Simon blinks wildly in disbelief, his anger from earlier surging back tenfold. His voice is venomous as he spits, “I catch you lyin’ to me, catch you continuously goin’ behind my back.” He points an accusatory finger in the direction of your bedroom. “I catch you with that filthy shite in our bed–”
“Hey, don't call–”
“–see him lyin’ there, sleepin’ on my fuckin’ pillow, and you think I'm ‘blowin’ this out of proportion’?!” he's fully shouting now, his volume having risen alongside his fury. Simon lets out a dry chuckle that's entirely devoid of humor. “Do you even hear yourself? Do my feelings mean nothin’ to you anymore? Do you– Do you even really love me?” his voice peaks as a wave of despair washes over him.
“Wha–?” Now it's your turn to blink wildly as you're caught off guard by that last sentence. “Of– Of course I do, Simon! Of course.” How can he even ask you such a thing?
“You just love him more, then, right?” The question stings like a punch to the gut.
You shake your head vehemently, asserting, “No. No, of course not!” even as you feel a twinge of guilt pricking the base of your skull.
Just as you're slightly skeptical of your own words, so too is Simon, and he brushes you off with a, “Pssh, right.”
The heightened emotions of the last several minutes persist even as you and your husband lapse into a tense silence.
As you stand there, you watch as Simon begins to harshly run both hands through his hair, not sure what you should say – if there's anything to say in this moment. Though you and he have had this same argument more times than you'd like to admit, something about this time felt different to you, felt like there were higher stakes in the mix. And as you reflect on the quarrel, you can't help how one line in particular sticks out in your mind. ‘You just love him more, then, right?’ he'd accused, bluntly, bitterly.
The idea is ridiculous to you, loving someone else more than your own husband. It sounds like something only a fool could believe.
But if that's the case, why did Simon say it so assuredly?
And why does the thought of it make your stomach clench like there could be some truth behind the claim?
After another few moments of him tugging at his roots, Simon releases a billowy breath. He briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head to himself, before dropping his hands back down by his sides.
“I don't know how much longer I can keep this up,” his voice sounds as exhausted as his body looks. As he peels his lids open to once more lock with your gaze, you feel your own eyes narrowing in your confusion.
“What do you mean?” you ask, voice quiet, timid.
“I mean you need to choose,” he tells you. “Me or him.”
That statement has you balking, the cords that hinge your jaw shut practically snapping. “Si, you– you're not serious.” This has to be some kind of sick joke, right?
“I am.” He nods resolutely. “I can't keep doin’ this – goin’ back and forth with you, wonderin’ if you're really all here with me or not,” he says, frowning. “So you need to choose. Right now. Me… or him.”
It's like you've just witnessed your worst fears materialize before you. Simon, your loving husband, has just asked you to do something that was once completely inconceivable to you. He's asked you to make a world-altering choice: pick between him and someone else.
The decision should be easy – should be obvious – and yet, you find yourself frozen, unable to speak the words you know you should say.
Simon is your husband, the first and greatest love of your life. But this other man he's making you choose between is… well, he's something else to you entirely.
When you're having a rough day and feel like the world is collapsing in around you, he's the first one you want to run to when you need a shoulder to cry on. And conversely, when you're feeling on top of the world, feeling so high up you could reach out and touch the clouds, he's the one you want to call so you can share your joy.
From the moment you met him, you knew he was one of a kind. He's got a smile that could rival a thousand suns, a kiss that could warm the coldest of nights, and the way he looks at you – like you hold the entirety of his universe in the palm of your hand – you think it could keep your heart beating long after it's chosen to stop.
He's your best friend, your other half of a whole, your personal ray of sunshine that cuts through all the gloomy rain. Simon is your husband, yes, that’s true. But this other man is your soulmate, and you know that however long you both shall live, you will love each other until you take your final breaths.
Tears start to bead in your eyes as the answer to your predicament reveals itself to you. And as Simon eventually pushes, “Well? Who's it gonna be?” you know there's only one thing you can tell him.
“Him,” you mutter, feeling the first tear spill over. “H-Him, Simon. Him. I choose… him.”
It's like the planet ceases to spin for a moment as your choice floats in the air like a ghost. At first, you think Simon must assume you're bluffing, what with the way he has no immediate reaction to your response. But as the silence stretches between you and you've yet to renounce your decision, you watch as the realization hits him like a slug to the chest.
Simon's face falls, the color zapping from his skin, and as his eyes start to shine with tears, you find your cheeks flooding with your own.
Simon blinks rapidly, his nostrils flaring as he tries to keep his emotions at bay. His brow furrows like he wants to say something – to argue something – but when he opens his mouth to speak, no words escape. He closes his mouth for a second but then opens it again soon after, once more nothing leaving him but the sound of his breath.
Open then shut, open then shut, he repeats the cycle over and over again, never once managing to get a word out. Finally, after several minutes of waging an internal battle with himself, Simon eventually lets out a low sigh of defeat.
“Then go,” he mutters, gaze falling to the floor. “Just… Just go.”
Your own heart shatters at seeing the pain you've caused your husband. But you can't take back what you've said now, and even if you could, you both know it'd be a lie.
Thus, all you can offer him is a whispered, “I'm sorry.” Any louder and your voice would break from the strain of your cries.
The room falls quiet again as you both let everything sink in. Simon, your husband, the man you'd promised forever to, just put his heart on the line, practically flayed himself open for you… and you didn't choose him.
“I'm sorry,” you say again because you don't know what else there is to do.
Simon waves your apology off with a dismissive hand, still refusing to meet your eye.
Over the next few moments, you continue to sob softly, the sounds of your sniffles puncturing the otherwise quiet house. After a while, you feel the faucet behind your eyes gradually slow to a trickle, and you wipe your face with the back of your shaky hands, swallowing down the last of your tears.
You take another minute or so to compose yourself, still standing before your forlorn husband. Once you feel somewhat well again, you clear your throat, then tip your head back to let out a short, high whistle.
Almost immediately, you hear the telltale noise of feet moving against the hardwood floor. Then, not a beat later, you see the man you'd just chosen rounding the corner to the living room.
“Come here, pup-pup. Come here,” you encourage Riley, your fourteen month old shepherd-mix, forward.
Like the good boy he is, Riley trots closer at your beckoning. But before he reaches you, he makes a pitstop by Simon, shoving his cold, wet nose into the man's empty palm.
Riley gives him a couple boops to the hand, politely asking him for pets. And Simon, for his part, despite still being obviously disgruntled, obliges and gives him a brief, dispassionate rub to the snout.
Having received his desired scritches, Riley then continues over to you, and you crouch down so you can meet him at his level.
“You wanna go cuddle with me some more? Yeah? Do you?” you pitch your voice up in that babyish way Simon pretends to hate.
Riley, however, absolutely loves it, and his tail wags back and forth in a way that says he's all too eager to agree.
“Okay, let's go!” You wave him after you as you take off down the hall.
As you both walk back to the bedroom you'd been occupying earlier, you hear Simon speaking behind you, muttering angrily to himself.
“Mangy fuckin’ mutt. Knew he was gonna be trouble,” he murmurs as he makes up a spot for himself on the couch. “First he steals my bed, then he steals my cuddles, next he'll be stealin’ my fuckin’ car…” his voice peters out the further away you walk.
“Don't mind your daddy. He's just being grumpy as usual,” you stage whisper to Riley as you approach the door to your bedroom.
Letting yourself inside, Riley quickly follows after. You shut the door and then waltz over to the bed, patting the empty space beside you as you settle in.
Swiftly, Riley jumps up to join you, taking the side normally reserved for your husband. He moseys all the way up the mattress until he reaches Simon's pillow, where he proceeds to lay down.
You roll onto your side and start to pet him, scratching that spot behind his ears you know he loves. As you do, you see that infectious smile of his slowly take shape, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as his eyes drift closed.
The sight of him so content makes your own lips upturn into a smile. He is so sweet, so perfectly innocent, that it makes your heart want to burst inside your chest.
And as you continue to cuddle Riley, making little kissy noises in his ear, you know you made the right choice as you grin and ask him, “Who's my favorite boy?”
__________
A/N: April Fools! Hope I didn't break your heart too much lmao!
As always, I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
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cluelessbees · 1 year
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Yknow what ? I think Byler getting Murray’d would be more heartfelt than anything else.
Because like-
Murray doesn’t just call out Jopper and Jancy because it’s obvious. He points it out because he knows they’re being stupid. In their cases, it’s really just them not communicating their feelings to one another and trying to pretend they don’t exist.
But with Byler it’s like…it’s different.
Because it’s not just that is it? We’re not just watching two people pine over one another whilst being oblivious to the fact they other likes them back. We’re not just looking at two people who can’t communicate well. There’s more to it.
Because they’re two boys who have been best friends since childhood. They grew up at the peak of the AIDS epidemic. They live in a small town and they’re expected to act a certain way. It’s different for them.
I don’t think Murray is gonna waltz in acting all holier than thou and essentially out both Mike and Will to one another. He’s a smart man as we’ve seen. He’s attentive. He doesn’t just call jancy and jopper out to prove a point he knows what they both need to hear so they can get over their miscommunication hurdle.
I think he’s going to go up to them. Either both or just Mike or Will or whatever, and he’s going to talk to them about it. Because that’s what they need. They need someone to talk to them about it. And I don’t think he would start with just directly talking about it. I think he (and this is me headcanonning Murray as queer) would open up first. Like about his own experiences- to show them that he gets it, and he knows what it’s like. And then he would casually bring up the whole byler thing.
Hmmm something along the lines of...
Okay– picture a conflict Mike Wheeler sitting by himself – either on the couch or on the floor or whatever. And, he’s stuck in his head. A lot had happened. He broke up with El and he’s struggling to grasp what he’s feeling about his best friend. And there's this…weird tension between them that– he just– he can't put his finger on. But they’re off. They aren’t clicking like they used to and Mike can’t seem to fix things. 
So he sat alone, trying to understand or comprehend whatever he’s feeling whilst everyone else is god knows where in the house. Will was in the kitchen though. Mike knew that much. And then suddenly, he felt a weight on the couch seat next to him or the space on the floor beside him was no longer there and he heard the words of Murray Bauman pull him out of his thoughts with the weirdest fucking ice-breaker he has ever heard.
“Y’know…I was like you when I was younger.” 
“Really?” Mike asked – mostly out of disbelief as he scanned Murray. No way. Not a chance. 
“Oh yeah…” Murray smiled, nodding to himself as he continued. “I know it's hard to believe it, but I was this…brash, stubborn, reactive teen who loved going against authority. I was very...headstrong in my beliefs.” 
He paused and Mike turned to him. Murray had his head down, looking at his lap silently, and Mike didn’t know what to do but watch or…more– listen to the silence. 
“And…I was also in my head a lot.” Murray looked up, turning to Mike once before looking forward again. “I was angry at things – at people and at myself because…no matter how much I pretended like I loved being a freak…a part of me hated that I wasn’t normal…”
Mike felt cold. His heartbeat raced as he turned away from Murray – facing forward and staring at his lap as he continued to listen.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah…I was-- going through a lot of stuff internally that I tried pretending didn’t exist.” He paused again – taking a deep breath. “I was…in love with someone who I didn’t want to be in love with.”
“...You were?” 
“Yeah…” Murray laughed to himself. “Yeah…it was– well he was…my best friend.”
Mike held his breath.
“I fell for him. And I was mad at myself for falling for him. Because even though I knew it wasn’t wrong…I just kept thinking about how I wasn’t supposed to like him. Because that’s not normal– Well ‘normal.’” Murray airquoted, rolling his eyes. Mike’s eyes were glued onto him at this point. 
“So…I grew angrier. And I took it out on myself. On him. Even though he didn’t deserve it. Even though I loved him– I just..I let my fear get the better of me and I pushed him away until I lost him…And I hated myself for doing that.” He breathed, another pause, before finally turning to Mike. “It took me a long time to realise that there was nothing wrong about loving someone.”
Murray tilted his head towards the direction of the kitchen as he raised his eyebrows – and it clicked to Mike.
“I..” Mike’s throat felt dry. “You know?”
“I had a hunch.”
“Is it obvious? Does he–”
“No, he doesn’t know. Your secret's safe with me, kid.”
“Okay– good.” Mike paced his breathing. “I just…I– I can’t lose him because of this. If he knew– if– if he knew he would–”
“He’s your best friend right?” Murray cut him off.
“What? Yes but–”
“Then. he could never hate you, Mike. Not about this.”
“How do you know that?”
“Call it…another one of my hunches.” Mike knitted his brows together.
“Look – kid, I’m not going to force you to tell him or anything. It's your choice at the end of the day. And I can’t say much, but it doesn’t take a genius to know how much that boy cares about you. And you care about him, correct?”
Mike nodded. 
“And you trust him?”
Mike nodded again. “With my life.”
“So…all I can say is…if you trust him? Then...trust him with this.” Murray began to stand up. “Take it from me. Holding it in only hurts the both of you.”
And then Murray leaves
Anyways yeah thoughts––
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aryxchse · 2 months
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percy doesn't know.
— leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader.
inspired from the song ;; scotty doesn't know by lustra
summary ;; percy is oblivious about leo fucking his sister at every chance he gets.
warnings ;; nsfw stuff i guess, no full smut though. percy is being oblivious as hell, reader is sneaky and leo's a little bastard <3
a / n ;; wish my english was good enough to actually write some good smut, but please don't kill me because i just implied it 👐🏻 OH and they're aged up, obvi.
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Percy doesn't know that y/n and me
Do it in my cabin every Sunday
She tells him she's in lake but she doesn't go
Still she's on her knees and Percy doesn't know
y/n l/n, percy jackson's precious little sister. she was only a year younger than him, but he still acted like she was a baby. he tried to protect her at all costs and sweared that he would kill anyone who looked at her wrong.
and when she told him that she was dating with leo, he couldn't help but get even more protective. but he did not have the right to say something, because he was happily in love with annabeth. and y/n just wanted to live that kind of love too, she deserved it.
so when she told him she was going to lake, to swim and meditate a little, he believed her. she was too soft and naive to do something secretly behind him anyways. at least, that's what percy told to himself.
little did he didn't know was that y/n, was going to bunker 9.
"finally," leo breathed out when he saw his perfect girlfriend y/n. "thought percy didn't let you be alone."
y/n smiled mischiefly as she approached to him, already seeing him hard. it looked like it hurt, and she would do anything to make her sweet boyfriend satisfied. "doesn't matter, i'm here right? let me help you with that." she said, pointing his arousal.
leo only smirked when she got down to her knees.
I can't believe he's so trusting
While I'm right behind you thrusting
y/n's got him on the phone
And she's trying not to moan
"h-hi, perce. what's up?" she said, trying to hold her voice stable.
she wasn't going to open the phone, really. but leo, being a little shit he is, insisted. appearently he wanted to see how much his girlfriend was capable of holding herself.
besides, leo was too heated at the moment that he didn't even cared when percy called. she was close, he was close, they were so close to having the feeling of paradise. percy would enter the room and leo would still keep pounding into her, that's how hot he was. he couldn't stop.
leo bited back a laugh, thrusting into her more. he bended her over at his working table, the metal stuff throwed on the ground long ago. she tried to scratch the table but of course, failed.
"no, thank you i don't want anything." she said, arching her back more as leo kept his speed. she was so close to exploding that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to muffle her moans like she did now.
percy was on a date with annabeth at the amusement park and he was catching some plushies now. and he knew how his sister loved plushies, especially sea creature themed ones. "well, m-maybe you can get the shark one, thanks perce." she said, tears rolling down as her voice shaked a bit.
"okay, love you too. kiss annabeth for me." she said before hanging up, and releasing herself with a loud cry. she screamed all of the voices she kept inside while she hit her orgasm, panting on leo's desk. it didn't take much longer for leo to cum after her, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.
"you did so well, princesa." he panted, kissing her back.
I did her on his birthday
percy doesn't know
percy doesn't know
percy doesn't know
it was august 18th, percy's birthday. everyone of their friends were invited, so it was normal for leo being there too.
the house was full of people, that percy couldn't even look or talk with his sister more than two minutes. everyone congratulated him on his new age and how handsome he turned out. bla, bla, bla.
y/n wore a white skirt with a blue crop top that leo got her at her birthday. he didn't said anything while he handed it to her, but the low neckline was making her boobs look gorgeous. and he don't even mention of how hot that top looked with that skirt.
leo held her hand as he whispered in her ear. "i need you, right now." he whispered in a desperate tone, a tone she couldn't say no to.
"leo we can't— the house is too crowded and-" leo kissed her neck secretly, only making her squirm under his touch. "that's why no one would notice." he whispered in her ear.
percy was talking with annabeth when he saw y/n taking leo's hand and dragging him to somewhere. "y/n!" he called, making the couple turn around.
"w-what's up?" she asked, trying to sound not too panicked. percy didn't noticed, thanks to gods. "where are you two going?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. which annabeth was going to be mad at him for it later.
"i gotta pee man, and she's leading me to the bathroom." leo explained, hiding behind her so that percy won't see his boner. percy was going to say something, but was intrupted by annabeth.
"okay then, we wouldn't want leo to pee in his pants on your birthday, right babe?" annabeth asked, not caring if percy was going to answer or not. and not waiting for it either. "but-" percy tried to say.
"great! be quick though, we're about to give him his presents." annabeth said like she knew, she winked to the couple. y/n gave her a warm smile, in a way only she could understand what she meant behind it. thank you, you're the best!
annabeth dragged percy to the kitchen while the couple got upstairs, making out the moment they entered the bathroom.
a / n ;; thanks for reading, you really survived to here fr 🫶🏻
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finniestoncrane · 2 months
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Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.
General Headcanons
KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh
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General Headcanons
this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there
he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss
he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him
bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something
yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body
i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline
he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?
if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb
you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing
Relationship Headcanons
when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going
he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles
he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!
gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one
he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover
there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with
hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety
holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger
he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it
i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)
he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor
NSFW Headcanons
he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually
speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him
he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...
of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close
he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy
obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this
body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle
he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does
cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy
he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting
this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle
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A/N ::: I did dishes tonight and was bent over, yeah, you guessed it, filling up the Jet-Dry thingy and thought how nice would it be to have Draken come up behind me and whack me on the ass. And then it just got terribly, terribly out of hand and now we're like 2500+ words shorter on life. I'm so sorry I do this shit. But you don't have to read it. (THOUGH ILY ALL SM FOR READING IT!!!!)
C/W ::: Domestic!Draken x F.reader, fluff, some smut.
WC ::: 2,572
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You're bent over the dishwasher filling up the rinse agent again. Because even though everyone that comes through your home CAN do things, doesn't mean they WILL.
You're filling it up and it hasn't spilled yet. Like, all of it has gone into the receptacle and it's perfect. You hear Draken's heavy, booted footsteps approaching you and you're so excited to tell him your stupid little feat over the dishwasher. "Ken! Ken! Guess what I just di-" he smacks your ass with a cupped hand. And so hard, too, that it almost makes you fall forward onto the open dishwasher door.
"What. The. Fuck. Have. You. Done!!" you say to him in a tone that's borderline scaring him. "Did you not see what I was doing here? I c- hoh man. Oh my god, Ken."
"W- why're you talkin' to me like that? What'd I do? Why ... why is your face so red, sweets, hm?" You stood up and turned around, the jet-dry all over your hand. And you're so much shorter than him. He doesn't understand this fear that's bubbling up in his stomach at the way you're staring at him with such ... murderous intent.
"Um, th-thank you for doing the dishes ... right? Is that what I'm supposed to say right now?" You slap his arm, making him yell in surprise. "Ow! Wha-"
"Don't interrupt me!" you yell at him. "You know damn well why I'm upset with you. Don't play dumb."
"Ohh, is this about the ass smack?"
"Yeah, it's about the ass smack! Do you realize how perfectly I was pouring that stupid dishwasher spot rinse this time? You just ... you ruined it! I'm gonna have to wait until it's run out and try again! AGAIN!"
He laughs. "Aw, baby, you're cute when you get all mad like this. It's adorable."
"Ryuuguji. This is not fucking funny to me! You can't just hit me like that while I'm trying to do something else. I was bending over for god's sake. You couldn't just, I don't know, tap me or something?"
"Uhhh, but you love it when I smack your ass, babe. Don't even try to deny it."
"That's beside the point! You can't do it every time."
"Well, maybe if you weren't so fuckin' hot when you're bent over like that, I wouldn't feel the need to!" You stare at him with your mouth agape. "I'm just sayin'!" he adds.
"Just. Shut up. And go back to your show." You turn around and start filling up the dishwasher again. He puts his hands on your waist, sliding them around to your stomach. "Ken ... I love you, but don't touch me right now."
"What if I don't wanna watch TV anymore? What if I wanna watch that pretty mouth of your wrappin' around my..." he pressed his erection against your ass. "Hm? You look so pretty."
"Are you kidding me?"
"What, you don't want my dick anymore? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying! I don't want it right now because you're being insensitive!" He laughed.
"Why are you being so fuckin' psychotic about this? It's just the stupid spot rinse. And anyway, wasn't I helping you by getting more of it to circulate around in there? I think I deserve a thank you for being so insightful without even knowing it."
You turned around and shoved him away. "You're unbelievable. Seriously." You put the cap back on the spot rinse and walked away from him. "I don't wanna talk to you."
"Oh, come on! Baby, don't be like that! It was just a joke!" He followed you into the living room, where you were sitting on the couch with your arms crossed. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I'll let you do your thing from now on, okay?"
"And how am I supposed to know if you're just saying that to appease me? You can't just apologize like that and expect me to believe you."
"I'll prove it to you. I'll watch your every move and make sure you’re not doing anything else before I smack your ass. See? I can be considerate too."
"Okay, well, if you can go a week without smacking my ass when it's poor timing, I'll believe you."
"A WEEK? I can't smack your ass for a whole week? Babe. Come on. You're being cra- unreasonable about this."
"I'm being what?"
"Nothing. Just. Fine. A week it is."
"Good." You smirked at him. "So, you can start by letting me finish filling up the dishwasher right now."
"No." He said. "Puttin' my foot down. And - and no. You getting all huffy about the fuckin' dishwasher has me hard as fuck and I want you to sit on my lap. Now."
"Are you kidding me? No! I'm not having sex with you after you made me spill my hard-earned dishwasher spot rinse!"
"Baby, it's just dish soap."
"AH-HA! It's not dish soap. It's a rinsing agent!" You don't know why you felt like you'd won the whole thing right then and there. But Draken just shook his head at you and walked to the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, undoing his pants.
"Fine. Just know that I'll be over here, jackin' off while you're doing your little thing. And you'll be missing out on a good time, so, you know. Your choice."
You didn't care. You went back to the kitchen and started filling up the dishwasher again. This time, you had a timer set for 5 minutes. If you couldn't fill it up in that time, you were going to give up and come back to it later.
Draken stayed on the bed with his cock in his hand, stroking slowly while he watched you from the bedroom. It was kind of hot, seeing you so determined. He knew you weren't going to let him win this one. And that turned him on. A lot.
But you couldn't do it. The timer went off and you still had a little left to do. And it pissed you off. You walked back to the bedroom and threw a pillow at him. "Happy?"
He smiled at you. "Why don't you come and find out?" You looked down at his hard cock and back up at him. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the pillow, throwing it back to its spot on the bed.
"I'm not gonna have sex with you while you're being such a brat." You started to walk away but he grabbed your arm and pulled you toward him.
"I- sor- sorry. I'M being a brat? Who the fuck do you think you are! Talk-" he pulled you so you were standing right in front of him and yanked your yoga pants and panties down in one motion. "Talking to me like that. You're the brat here, brat. And you know what," he laid you over his lap so your ass was in the perfect position to spank, "you're about to get a little lesson in respect. I'll show you who's a brat."
"K- Ken ... don't you dare!" But he was already bringing his hand down on your bare ass, making you yelp in surprise. "Ah! Ow! Don't you fucking dare!"
He smacked you again, harder this time. "Respect, bitch!" He smacked you again and again, alternating between cheeks. "Who's a brat now?"
"You, Ken! You! Oh my- oh my god, please stop!" You were laughing so hard that tears were running down your cheeks and you couldn't believe he was doing this to you. It stung but it was also turning you on.
He stopped spanking you and pulled you onto his lap, laying you on your side so your ass wasn't touching anything. "You okay, baby? Huh?" He ran his fingers over the red marks on your skin.
"I hate you so much," you said, still laughing.
"No. You don't." He kissed your cheek and ran his hands over your body. "You love me."
"Yeah, I do."
He lifted you up and positioned you so you were straddling him. "Good. Now. Let's have sex."
"Um. I don't think so." You slid off of him and looked around for your pants. They were in the garbage. "Really, Ken? The garbage can?"
"What? It's not like I meant to throw them there."
"Mm-hm. And besides, you just spanked me! Multiple times! So no. N-O spells no." You started to run away from him, still bare assed. Your ass jiggled all the way down the hallway and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. 
"Oh, no, you don't!" He ran after you and tackled you onto the couch, pinning you down with his body. "I didn't say you could go anywhere. You're staying right here with me."
"Ken, please!"
"Please, what? You want me to spank you more? Is that it? You liked getting your ass slapped, huh? You little slut." He pushed his cock against you, pressing it against your clit. "You wanna get fucked?"
"Yes! Yeh-hess, I want you to fuck me, Ken."
"Hmm. Not so fast." He pulled away from you and got down on his knees on the floor, lifting your legs up over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thighs, his lips ghosting over your skin. "You know how much I love these thighs of yours?"
"Mhm. Ken, please."
"Really. Now you're begging me for it? You're fuckin' unbelievable. So needy 'n shit. Got some nerve." He pressed his tongue against your clit, flicking it back and forth. "I don't know if I'm ready yet. You're gonna have to work a little harder than that to get me going. 'Sides, you had your chance. Several, actually. So really, this is your fault." He went back to licking your pussy, his tongue delving into your folds. 
You brought your fingers to your mouth and licked them, rubbing them over your clit, moaning as he ate you out. He pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own. He started to rub your clit faster, making your hips buck up. "Mm. Good girl."
"Ah! Ohh, fuck!" Your orgasm hit you hard, making you moan loudly. "Ken! Ahh, fuck!" You tried to push him away, but he kept going, licking and sucking at your wetness until you couldn't take it anymore. "I can't! Fuck, I ca- hah!"
He finally stopped and sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with his hand. "There. Now. How do you feel about fucking me now?"
You laughed at him. "Fuck off."
"Aww, come on, baby. You know you wanna." He leaned forward and kissed your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. "Let's finish filling up the dishwasher together, hm?" He helped you up and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked.
"I can't believe you," you said, laughing. "You really did that."
"Hey, you said no sex. I was just taking it a step further by removing all of your clothes so you couldn't even pretend you were gonna have sex with me. In this household, nudity is not frowned upon. In fact, I may tell our friends that if they come over, they have to take their clothes off. You'd like that, huh? I see the way you look at Mikey and Baji. Kazutora sometimes. And Chifuyu. And Mitsuya."
"OK! Jesus. Yeah, your friends are hot. But I'm in love with you, you caveman."
"I know. But it's okay. They don't mind that you're in love with me, either. So don't worry about it. You can fuck any of them if you want."
"I ... wh-what? I don't want to fuck them. I just like lookin' at them. Jesus. Way to give me up so fast! Wait, have they - have they said anything about wanting to fuck me? No no no. Don't answer that. Let's just do the dishes so you can fuck me."
He laughed and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you toward the kitchen. "Fine. Come on, then. Let's fill up the dishwasher and get you back into bed for round 2."
"Oh god, please don't call it that."
"What? What else would you call it? Fucking?"
"Yes, that's it."
"Oh, right. The fucking. Got it." He walked over to the dishwasher and grabbed the spot rinse. "Here. Fill it up. I'll watch." He leaned against the counter, his arms folded across his chest.
You sighed. "Fine." You picked up the bottle and filled it up, not spilling a drop. "You're ruining my fun by watching me so closely."
"Nah. You're just being a little brat again." He stepped closer to you and pressed his erection against your back. "And you know what happens to brats, right?"
"Yeah, they get punished."
"That's right, baby. That's exactly right." He spun you around and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours hungrily. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard right here on the counter, you’ll never do the dishes again without thinking about my cock."
You giggled and shook your head at him. "You're such a horny fuck, Ken. I love it." You started to push his boxers down his hips.
He pulled them down and stepped out of them, his cock hard and ready for you. "That's my girl. You ready for me?"
"Mhm." You lifted your leg up and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him closer. "Fuck me, Ken. Fuck me right here."
He thrust his cock into you, making you gasp in surprise. "There it is. That's what I love hearing from you." He fucked you hard and fast, his hips snapping against yours as he pounded into you. "Ahh, fuck. You feel so good. You feel so fucking good."
"Ohh, Ken! Ah! Fuck! Oh my god! Hah!!!" You cried out, scooting closer and closer to him off of the counter.
"Yeah? Fuckin' feels so good yeah? Fuck I love it when you're loud!" He began thrusting even harder into you.
"No! There's a fork stabbing me in the ass, get me off of here!" you yelled, trying to get away from the sharp metal object.
He laughed too hard at that and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom. "There you go, baby."
You sighed in relief. "Thank you." He climbed onto the bed with you and pulled you on top of him. "Now I want you to ride me. Ride my cock." He held your hips and helped you move up and down on him. "Fuck, you're so hot like this. Yeah, just like that."
You moaned as you rode him, your hips rocking back and forth as you took him deeper. "Ken, you're so fucking good." You leaned forward and kissed him, your tongue sliding into his mouth. He kissed you back, his tongue rubbing against yours.
He started to thrust up into you, matching your rhythm. "That's it, baby. I love forking you." He smirked.
"What the fuck did you just say? I'm done. This was not meant to happen today." You climbed off of him and went to the bathroom to clean up.
"Babe, I'm sor-" he couldn't talk he was laughing so hard. "I'm sorry! Come here. C'mere."
"No. You know what? No. Go fork yourself, Ryuuguji. Don't speak to me for the rest of the day." You chuckled.
You don't know what you did to deserve this beautiful man in your life. But you thank the God's everyday that he loves you back.
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Taglist ::: @kazutora-kurokawa @darkstarlight82 @viburnt @arlerts-angel @katkitkats @honeycloudz @lesyeuxde-amour
To the people I never tag, I only tagged you because you <3'd my silly little post. I won't tag you in anything else (unless you specifically request to be so. Thanks!)
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fandomxpreferences · 1 year
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I May Have Girlbossed Too Close To the Sun
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x afab!reader
TW: 18+, pure filth, brat tamer Bradley, dominance kink, piv, unprotected sex, I think thats it idek at this point
Summary: Bradley's favorite team is the Phillies and you decide to support their rivals to test the waters.
Word Count:1.7k
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You mosey out of the bedroom and into the living room and everyone stops when they see you. Bradley has the squad over to watch the Mets versus Phillies game and he's dressed to the nines. 
Everyone knows he's a die-hard Phillies fan, so much so that it's an unspoken rule that any Mets gear is banned from the household. 
Bradley jumps to his feet with a scowl and points an accusatory finger. "What the hell are you wearing." It's phrased like a question but you know he's not really asking. You answer anyway. 
"My team's jersey?" You say with mock innocence and you swear his eye twitches. 
"No." He says matter of factly and your eyebrow quirks. 
"No what?" You question and Bradley looks about 3 seconds away from ripping the blue and orange shirt off of your frame. 
"No, my girlfriend is not a Mets fan. I forbid it. Go change." He demands and you stifle a laugh. 
"Hard pass."
You hear Jake cough to cover a laugh and Bradley's head whips around. "This isn't funny!" He exclaims, clearly in distress. 
"I mean," Phoenix begins and you give her a ghost of a smile. "It's a little funny" 
Bradley looks utterly betrayed as you double down and plop down on the couch, clearly unwilling to change. 
"In my own home. This is bullshit." He mutters to himself and you fight back a smirk. 
You lean forward and pop a chip in your mouth casually, refusing to acknowledge Bradley staring at you. Are you actually a Mets fan? No. You couldn't care less. But is it fun to push Bradley's buttons and watch his nose scrunch up in anger? Yes. 
You can see your boyfriend gearing up to say something else out of the corner of your eye when the game comes on. You lean forward pretending to be enthralled and put your hand up to shush him. His mouth drops open in shock and you do your best to hide your amusement. 
Before this afternoon, you didn't know jack shit about baseball. However, you spent a couple hours reading up on rules, players, and stats to keep up the illusion that you're an expert with actual opinions.
Truthfully, you still don't know much besides the general rules but you figure you'll just fake it until you make it. For the first two innings, you cheer loudly whenever someone on the Mets scores a home run or strikes out a Phillies player and you can physically feel the tension radiating off of Bradley. 
You make sure to comment on how the uniforms make their asses look amazing and point out every time a Phillies member screws up. You watch Bradley in your peripheral and he might as well have steam coming out of his ears.
The next time you go to leap up to celebrate, Bradley's hand catches your wrist and firmly pulls you back down. You look over at him for the first time since this all started and notice that his eyes are darker than usual. You're well acquainted with the look he's giving you and it causes your thighs to clench. 
You watch as he reaches for his phone and types something out before standing and walking away. You frown slightly, worried you might have taken it too far when your phone dings. You look at it curiously and gulp at the message on the screen.
Meet me in the bathroom.
Part of you wants to ignore it and see just how far you can push him. But the louder and smarter part of you knows to obey. You give it a couple minutes and sweep the room to make sure no one is paying attention before making a quick exit.
You knock softly on the door and not even a second passes before you're being yanked in and pushed against the bathroom counter. You look up at Bradley with wide doe eyes and he growls. 
"Do you get off on this, baby girl? Being a fucking brat in front of all our friends when I can't do anything about it?" He hisses and you lick your lips. 
"Kind of." You reply smugly and his hands rip your shirt open. Buttons clatter on the floor and your jaw goes slack. 
"Bradley!" You scold him with a frown and he responds by nipping at your neck. 
"Doesn't matter, it's getting burned anyway."
You fight back a moan at the dominance and tilt your head back to give him better access as he attacks your throat. Your mouth falls open and you feel Bradley smirk against your skin. 
"What, suddenly don't feel like talking? Don't stop now baby, you've been running your mouth all night." He taunts and your eyes flutter shut. He has you pinned against the mirror, and your body buzzes with electricity. 
"Uh-uh. Eyes open princess. I want you to watch me as I make you fall apart." He whispers and you force yourself to make eye contact with him. 
"Good girl." Your eyes never leave him as he peels off his own jersey and hands it to you before taking off the Phillies t-shirt he has on underneath it. "Put this on." He instructs and you follow his command wordlessly. 
His eyes rake over you wearing his team's jersey and he rips your pants down your legs, raw primal instincts washing over him. You hear him undo his belt buckle and shift restlessly, craving him more with every passing second. 
He doesn't give you any warning before slamming into you, only breaking character to glance up and make sure you're okay. He gives you a second and as soon as you nod, he's right back to being ruthless. 
He sets a brutal pace and you do your best to choke back your moans, not wanting to alert the team. Bradley's hands tangle in your hair, gripping it by the roots at the base of your skull and forcing you to look at him. 
"Look how well you take me, baby. Always so tight for me." He grunts, directing your head down to watch where the two of you connect. You whimper and he quickly covers your mouth with his own to try and swallow the sounds you're letting out.
With every thrust, he slams into your clit and white-hot fire shoots through every nerve ending. You're approaching your high quickly and Bradley can tell.
He always knows. He's arguably more tuned into your body and its reactions than you are and his other hand wraps your leg around his waist. 
You cry out at the new angle and he grips your hip with bruising force. He's reduced you to a babbling mess, your words coming out as incoherent slurs. You can tell he's close too, his rhythm is sloppy and his words have been replaced with deep pants. 
"Please let me come." You beg and he rests his forehead against yours. 
"Do you think you deserve a reward after being bad all night?" He breathes and your answer is interrupted by a broken sob. 
"I'm sorry." You manage to whine and he chuckles. 
"Are you going to be good for me?" He asks and you nod furiously as you try to fight off the burning sensation in your lower abdomen. 
You're both so wrapped up in each other that you don't hear the footsteps outside and the door swings open. Bradley doesn't falter as he looks into the mirror to see who it is. Jake lets out a scream before slamming the door shut and literally running away. 
You can't be bothered to care when you're so engulfed in Bradley and he doesn't seem to be phased either. 
"Come." He commands in your ear and that's all it takes. 
Your entire body seizes as you clench down around him and his breath hitches as you milk his own release out of him. The two of you stay there for a minute as aftershocks wrack through you, leaning up against each other for support. 
He watches as his cum leaks out of you and kisses your cheek. 
"So pretty." He mumbles and despite what just took place, it makes you blush. You jump down on wobbly legs and move to clean yourself up before Bradley grabs your hand. 
"I don't think so. I want my cum dripping out of you so you remember who's in charge." He tells you and you nod dumbly, knowing better than to argue. 
He gets himself dressed before turning back to you and buttoning up your shirt. 
"Much better." He smiles and you roll your eyes. He grabs your face in his hand, squeezing your cheeks, and leans forward so you're nose to nose. 
"Was that attitude I just saw?" He questions and you shake your head the best you can with him holding you in place. 
"No sir." You squeak out and he kisses the tip of your nose. 
"That's what I thought."
The two of you walk back out hand in hand, no longer feeling the need to hide what happened. If Jake didn't immediately tell them, your swollen lips and sudden wardrobe change will clue everyone in. 
You shrink under their gaze as everyone's heads immediately snap to look at you and you give a sheepish smile. 
"Gross." Phoenix gags with a scrunched-up face and Bradley shrugs his shoulders. 
"You weren't in there very long, Bradshaw. You know they sell numbing gel if that's a regular issue fo-" Jake starts and Bradley cuts him off with a sharp look. 
"Don't even fucking think about finishing that sentence, Bagman." He bites and Jake just throws his hands up with a laugh. 
"I'm just trying to help man. Wouldn't want your girl to be left unsatisfied." He quips and you feel Bradley tense. 
He turns to you and tilts his head and you can see the mischief in his eyes. 
"Have I ever left you unsatisfied, baby?" He asks and you shake your head no immediately. 
"No sir. Not even once." You confirm and he turns back to Jake with a smug smile. 
"There you go, Jake. I promise she's always very happy when I'm done with her. No need to project your own issues." He snarks and you giggle next to him. 
Jake takes a step forward and goes to argue but Phoneix interrupts him. 
"Can we please stop talking about Rooster's sex life and finish watching the game?" She pleads and you give her a sympathetic smile. 
You all finish watching the game and celebrate when the Phillies win. Bradley claps his hands together with a large smile and stands up. 
"You guys want to have a bonfire? I have some trash to burn."
@drakelover78  @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana  @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world  @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6 @theamuz
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violetmina · 1 month
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Chokehold - Ch. 11
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Chokehold Masterlist
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Taglist: @roundroald @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @sexytholland @scraftsku35 @avastrasposts @missihart23 @ladyvillainous @elementress44 @haibara-ai-tsii @123passwort @sanscas @lulzbrokenbyfantasy @icantevenchoose @marksassybanana @a-rogue-tiddy-bot​ @itsyellow​ @lmarina2000​ @d3adite666 @casualfansoul @missrandomheart @cvstle @elianamarie-blog @1970sbitch @depressed-but-make-it-cute @loversjoy @raktajinoaddict @trisaratops-mcgee
Pairing: Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5,623
Warning: Swearing, adult themes, sexual tension and...well, Butcher.
A/N: I'm back~! Its finally here! After several months, the next chapter of this series! I promised that I would not abandon it, and I meant it. If it feels off in any way, I do apologize. And many thanks to all of you for your support and your patience. If I forgot anyone that wanted to be on the taglist, please let me know asap so I can fix it.
Two things ripped you from sleep that morning. The first was your final alarm blaring from the coffee table. The second was the abrupt awareness of a particular body missing behind you. The combination of the two had your muscles spasming into a flailing upright position, immediately revealing a slight kink in your neck as your brain tried to catch up. Your fingers fumble and flutter over the table in search of the obnoxious sound coming from your phone. Just as your hand starts to slap against the wood in groggy frustration, your eyes just make out a different set of fingers.
“Billy?” It comes out cracked and garbled from sleep.
The alarm dies quickly under his fingers and the blur in your vision shifts in time to bring him into focus, kneeling before you beside the couch. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets you with that crooked smile. “Gotta tell ya, I hear that alarm again, I'm throwing your fucking phone through the wall.”
“You -ah!” You wince as your neck twinges sharp at your attempt to swing your legs to the floor.
“Yeah, your couch did the same number on me,” he mutters. He slips his fingers to your nape, rubbing the smallest of circles there, just on the new knot. It's brief, his hand withdrawing before you can even sink into it, reaching back to bring forward a cup of coffee.
“Here. Can't send you off to Hughie with bags like that under your eyes.”
You give your thanks, taking a long draw before turning back to him. “Speaking of not looking so good, what about-?”
“Nuh-uh.” He wags back a finger at you as he stands to head out of the living room. “We had a deal. You're done playing nurse.”
You roll your eyes, knowing full well you're not going to argue with this mule. Butcher appears unfazed from the previous night's events, strutting in your apartment as his usual. The only outward indication of his escapade was the faintest peek of the liquid stitches on his head and the missing Hawaiian atrocity the blue t-shirt replaced. A very good looking replacement if anyone bothered for your opinion. But bravado and machismo are not enough to throw off what you already know - he was probably bluffing.
Taking a full gulp of coffee, you shuffle behind him towards your kitchen. The pizza box sits empty and abandoned on your counter. But next to it Butcher rifles through an unfamiliar bag, pulling out to-go boxes.
“You brought me breakfast in bed?,” you ask, smirk tight against the rim of your mug.
“Breakfast on couch,” Butcher replies without missing a beat, sliding warm styrofoam towards you before hooking a palm onto your hip. “Since ya made such a point of avoiding your bed.”
“Actually it was you making a point of avoiding my bed. You did say you wouldn't go near it if I wasn't in it, did you not?”
“Awfully cheeky for just starting that coffee.” He pushes away from the counter and pulls you in as you shrug in response. “And we could remedy that in a hurry, yeah? Being in your bed, I mean.”
“I, on the other hand,” you continue, bluntly brushing off the reply, “was avoiding sinful acts so as not to kill you.”
“Not a bad way to go, innit?” Butcher manages to wrap his arm around your back without sloshing your morning brew over either of you.
“Maybe not. But I'd hate to traumatize the others with the vivid details of what you look like naked,” you grin.
“Fuck off,” he hums before hushing you with a kiss. Then, purring into your ear, “You still haven't answered me…Your bed?”
Butcher doesn't give you much of a chance to respond. Not verbally that is. He kisses you again, longer, firmer. Warm steadily turning to hot, a slow delicious simmer. Your free hand slips along his side, just hitching under the hem to brush skin, and you can't remember this shirt feeling this soft. But you're not going to forget now.
Until he gives you something else to remember.
Butcher's grip on your hip grows firmer, and when you part your lips in invitation, his response is no different than how he handles much else - he does not hesitate. He delves to taste and you're quickly preoccupied with his own, enough to kiss back with more fervor. He nips your bottom lip and you know it's still not safe for him, not really. The concussion is still a danger…but you feel your bed pull at you like his fingers starting to tug at your jeans.
Until his phone buzzes loudly in his pocket.
“Billy…”
He shakes his head, whiskers whispering against your face. “It's nuthin’,” he breathes between kisses. “So? This a yes, lov-”
Another buzz.
You catch his wrist as he rips the cell from his pocket, barely saving the offensive thing from a warp speed trip across your apartment. When yours buzzes too on the other side of the room, the noise that rumbles out of him makes you bite your lip. He leans back from you snarling to the roof, “Fuckin’ cockblocks every fuckin’ one of ‘em!”
“That confident were you?” It comes out just a tad breathless.
He stabs a brief glare at you with a snort before finally looking over the interrupting notification. “Surprise, surprise. Hughie.”
“What did he say?”
“New orders, new case. And a little under the table meeting. Same bullshit,” Butcher grumbles. “I'm sure yours is near identical.” He looks up at you, some of the frustration leaving his face to give you a hint of a smile. “All things considered, I'm guessing you'd like me to let him know we'll be each other's plus one to the meeting?”
Butcher gives a little wink before you place your hand over his phone. His hint of humor falters when he sees you staring with furrowed brow at the text message waiting to be answered.
“...No.”
His face mirrors yours. “No? No what?” 
You look up at him, shaking your head.
He stares for only a second. Then, “Ah, I get it. I'm your new dirty secret, eh? That it?”
“No,” you reply louder, more abrupt. Had that been the tiniest edge on his playful tone? You look up at him, shaking your head. “I didn't mean that. You're not that. I mean I don't know what you - we-!” 
Something twitches in his face at ‘we’, something that makes part of you flinch, and you take a breath before speaking. “What I meant,” you answer slowly, “is that we shouldn't say anything just yet. Not to the others. I don't want anyone thinking that I didn't earn my place here, pull my weight. Especially Hughie.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“He's already shown me once how quickly he can change his mind, even more so when it comes to me doing field work. I hope I won't need you to speak to him on my behalf. But if I do, how much will your word weigh to him if he thinks it's only because we're past being friends…coworkers…what have you…” 
You trail off on that thought, cutting back to the point. “Anyway, more importantly, we've got a big mission here. And I think it would be best if the team has no questions or doubts about where everybody's heads are at. No distractions. Right?”
Butcher gives a slow nod as your words sink in. “That'd be the thing they'd do wouldn't it?” Then with a humorless laugh, “Like they don't question me, bust my balls enough already. And Hughie!” He makes a tsking sound. “Yeah, none of that. We'll deal with this Persuasion business proper first.”
He nods and makes a quick reply to Hughie before sliding his cell back into his pocket. “I best get a move on, meet up with MM while it's still early. And you best get your ass in gear. You need to keep an eye on the congresswoman.” 
Butcher smirks as he shrugs on his coat. “Real shame,” he drawls, giving you a long, parting kiss before beginning to back to your door. “Still wouldn't have minded breaking your bed.”
“Could've died,” you sing-song at him.
“Sounds like a good way to go.”
“Sounds like you're trying to tell me you wouldn't be worth a second round,” you tease.
Butcher shakes his head, a dark, heavy look rolling in his eyes at your sass. “When did I ever say it’d take only one round?” He pauses in your door. “That's a shame, love. I thought you knew me better than that.”
With a smirk your way and a glance over your apartment, he closes the door. You let out a sigh somewhere between relief and disappointment, picking at your to-go box as you remember the coffee somehow still in your hand. “Not yet,” you smile in response to his parting words.
As you eat the breakfast Butcher had delivered, you did your best to focus on the little spark of excitement in you, and ignore the last look he'd given your apartment. Ignore the sharp flicker he'd given the windows.
^^^
“We got one!”
You nearly jump as a news article slaps onto your desk. Hughie beams down at you, almost smug before sliding it closer to you. “Got one?”
“A supe. That fungi one, what's-his-face -”
“Cordycep?”
“Yep,” Hughie grins. “The asshole who was caught spraying those spores everywhere to hypnotize people. His case finally went to the judge. And the judge threw the book at him.”
You skim over the article as he leans against your cubicle wall, clearly pleased. “You're not kidding. Found guilty of all twenty-six counts of fraud, identity and grand theft, and forgery.”
“Every single one,” he says. “A long sentence. And no chance of parole at this time, or bail. We did that. We did that!”
You suppress a laugh as he takes back the article with a fist in the air. “That's kinda the point, isn't it? That's why the bureau exists.”
“I don't mean the bureau. I mean us,” he replies. Then he continues with earnest, “I know that the team has been kinda frustrated lately. We covered this case, and several like it, and it feels like we've been trying to climb shit mountain every time. But this shows that it's working. We're making a difference. And we didn't have to scrub blood out of our clothes to do it.”
“This time,” you emphasize. “We didn't have to this time. Forgive me for raining on your parade a little. But let's keep a little pragmatism here. Cordycep was a push over. Most of the supes aren't.”
He waves you off but you still notice the slight slump in his shoulders. “Whatever. Point is that we are making a little progress.”
You feel a twinge of guilt for being a bit of a realist on him. But despite that, part of you wants to celebrate with him. There has been progress for both the Boys and the bureau. Slow, grinding, frustrating progress. But still progress. Although, if Butcher were the one to measure, you would be found short today. You hadn't been able to keep an eye on Neuman as intended. Even those at work had only seen her in passing glimpses by her office.
With that in mind, you lower your voice just slightly. “Speaking of progress, are we still going over reports tonight with the team? That quarterly thing?”
Hughie nods as he straightens a little, eyes scanning for the congresswoman. “Yep. Right. Quarterly reports. Gotta make sure we're within budget and all that.”
“And are Annie and I still on for girls night?,” you ask, absently shuffling through some files. Not like you care what they are.
“Yes. Actually she hinted that she might - might - be able to stop by tonight. You know, say hello. Iron out some stuff for your upcoming bonding time.”
That certainly puts a little edge in you. You'd be lying to yourself if you thought you weren't hesitant about how the meeting would go. Yes, the whole mission and its variables were certainly part of that. But so was the fact that you now had to keep pretending like nothing was going on between you and Butcher, jiu jitsu or otherwise. Throw in the ever looming threat of Neuman's shadow, and the mutual disdain to put it politely between Annie and Butcher…
“That sounds great,” you smile wanely. “Is everybody else in on that particular detail?”
“Butcher knows,” Hughie deadpans.
“And how many new expletives did you learn from him after telling him?”
“None. Not yet, I mean. He's probably composing a whole list to shove down my throat after the meeting as we speak.”
“Wrapped with a C4 wire bow, I'm sure,” you smirk at him. You slap three files into his chest. “Here. You'll need those for tonight.”
He glares at the manila as if it's offended him while he thumbs the pages. “The hell is this?”
“Budget reports.” Your expression goes flat when his remains confused. “Neuman would want you to have those for the meeting…?”
A beat passes before you see the light bulb come on. “Oh,” he smiles sheepishly. “Riiight. Need those.”
“...How the hell are you my boss again?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles before pushing away from your cubicle to avoid the return of your smirk. Before he dips out of sight he peeps around the corner one more time. “Oh, by the way…”
“Yeah?”
Hughie spares a genuine smile. “I just wanted to let you know that, uh…I'm glad you're working again. You're kicking ass already.”
Fondness fills your chest and you return the smile before he jokingly barks an order to “kick those papers asses!”, and heads further into the bureau. You sigh at the small mountain of work on your desk before dragging a file towards you. 
Kicking more ass than you know, Hughie. Just you wait.
^^^
Homelander's too-piercing blue eyes stare at you through a thin veil of false contrition as you stare back from your seat in the Flatiron. The act is thinner than a blade's edge, and you're grateful for the filter of the LCD screen and a brown-nosed interviewer hired by Vought between you - and everyone this side of the screen - and the supe. It's the second time you've seen it air today, but it still irks as bad as the first time as Homelander lays his woes and regret about Stormfront for the first time publicly since she'd been “apprehended”.
“Fuck him,” Frenchie mutters, snapping your attention away from the TV and back to the crew. He snaps off the TV just as viciously. “And fuck that nazi bitch, whatever is left of her.”
“Can we focus?,” MM asks at his desk, his fingertips burrowing deep in his temples. “We got a lot to cover and very little time to do it.”
Hughie heaves a sigh and nods, looking at each of those present to recollect the room as he stands in the center of it. “He's right. We gotta crunch these last numbers. I'll make it quick. Let's see…MM is good on the books. You submitted that last bit of papers for that druid-wannabe supe, right?”
“Yes. Ready for you to hand off to your attorneys.”
Hughie flashes a thumbs up before turning to the seats near your desk. “Cool. Frenchie, Kimiko. Looks like I just need that last budgeting sheet for…is this a flamethrower? This looks suspiciously like a flamethro- why?”
Kimiko signs before Frenchie grins, “Research purposes.”
You hold back a snicker as Hughie presses on. “Fuck, fine, whatever. Mallory can deal with that, I guess. So that just leaves-”
“Yours truly.” Butcher's chair creaks next to you at his desk, opposite side of Kimiko, as he swivels slowly with a bit of impatience. “It's all there, mate. Double checked the numbers me self.”
“All of it?,” Hughie presses. “Your ammo and armory form was off a couple digits last month.”
“Yep. Even corrected the pornhub subscription cost on the miscellaneous page.”
“Okay, okay. That was lovely news,” Hughie grimaces as everyone else shares a chuckle. “Bleaching that from my mind and moving on. Budgeting is done. Now for the real meeting.” He glances back and forth between Butcher and MM. “Any new leads on Persuasion or Walsh?”
“Only that Walsh is hiring third party goons to try to keep Vought from crawling up his ass. Ambushed me at the club the girl talked about,” Butcher shrugs. “Patched myself up away from the hospitals, so we don't have any tails there.”
Your mind slips into the memory of your fingers running through Butcher's damp locks. It hazes briefly at the memory of calloused hands and warm lips before you remind yourself that there's a reason you and Butcher are not sitting directly next to each other right now.
“I found two other cases from the same night,” MM cuts in. “One male and one female victim, not as lucky as our first. They were from different sides of town. Vought got to them long before me though. But from what I could gather, the situations are uncannily similar. If this is a test run, this drug is going to spread fast.”
“No faster than what Walsh will allow, you mean,” Hughie interjects. “He still has to keep ahead and under Vought’s radar.”
“Any clues what it's for?,” you ask.
“I have less leads than them,” Frenchie replies, rubbing the back of his head in agitation. “After what happened with the last sample, I've had to take the experiments a little slow.”
Hughie shakes his head. “Not gonna lie, that's not great news for our timeline before the gala. How are we coming on that?”
Frenchie perks up a bit. “That I do have good news. My surveillance equipment should be here within a few days. But I will need to know where in the gala we are playing our roles. I need just a little time to make any necessary changes to it.”
Butcher gestures around the room. “So? Where do you lot all wanna be?”
There's the crackle of paper as Frenchie smooths out the schematics splayed out on his desk, Kimiko and MM leaning to peer behind him. “We all start at the top and work down, right?,” MM begins. “Fifteen floors down. We should stack. Nobody more than one floor apart from each other. So I'll take fourteen and every third floor on.”
Hughie starts ticking off fingers. “So that means…”
“Means MM,” Butcher says, rising from his desk to stride to view the schematics, “will take fourteen, eleven, eight, five, and two. The love birds have to split what's left, and they all converge in the sublevels.”
Kimiko types rapidly into her phone before showing the display to everyone. I want to be closest to either of them if they need backup, it reads. I'll take thirteen down.
“I guess that leaves me with levels divisible by three,” Frenchie shrugs.
“What kind of modifications are you thinking?,” you ask him.
“Mostly wardrobe, so I know how to disguise your surveillance gear.”
Kimiko and Hughie smile, confusing you until you hear a voice behind you pipe up, “I guess I snuck out at the right time then.”
All eyes turn and you find Annie coming into the office. While you feel Butcher's not-so-welcoming smirk bloom from his spot, you and Kimiko each greet her with a warm hug before she greets Hughie the same with a kiss tagged on. “I'm guessing this isn't the budget report we're talking about?,” she asks the room.
“We could go back to that,” Butcher grins. “Being the altruistic soul you are, Starlight, I'm sure you'd be more than happy to make a generous donation to our cause, no? And using that Seven member payroll to stick it to Vought?” He lets out a low whistle. “It'd be poetry.”
“Tempting,” she responds tersely. “But even my money is micromanaged. Getting my charity for at-risk youth off the ground has been like pulling teeth, even with all the good PR Vought is expecting. And the last thing all of you need is for Vought to be sniffing further into my ‘donations’. Don't you think?”
“If you're a stingy bitch, you can just say that.”
“Okay!” Hughie quickly cuts in, placing his thin frame in the direct heat of their glaring. You're surprised he doesn't melt like butter in the thick of it. “Let's remember we're all on the same side here. We'll give you ladies a chance to talk over things while we, uh, find the best place to put our surveillance team.”
“I won't keep her long. The less I know, probably the better. At least in this case.” Annie gives Butcher one more pointed glare before shuffling you off a few paces. “It's been awhile since he's worn a shirt that didn't look like he stole it from a Miami retirement home,” she grumbles.
Oh, you had definitely noticed. He was still wearing the blue shirt from your closet, and Hughie had made a similar comment when he had walked into the Flatiron. Butcher merely brushed it off with something about laundry day. Thwarting away the image of what lay beneath said shirt, all stretched out on your couch, you asked, “We're still on tomorrow then?”
“Yes. I know a guy from my Christ for Capes days, his name is Torsten. He doesn't work for Vought but a lot of his clientele have been supes. He's got a hole in the wall for a shop in Manhattan. He can definitely tailor something for what you need.” 
She glances at Hughie, who is preoccupied arguing with Butcher that no, they can't park the van in the goddamn venue lobby. Then says, “I get wanting to wear something you can fight in. But can you? Not saying you don't know how to take care of yourself. I'm just hoping you're going to have enough time to learn what you need.”
You wave at the team as MM seems to get them back on track over the schematics. “If there's anybody that can get me ready with this kind of time crunch, it's these guys. Right?”
Her eyes crinkle as she looks over each of them. “I mean…kinda? A little. I don't think their insurance would agree, but...”
“Says the one who can take a bullet to the chest,” you jibe back.
“Well I don't know what the hell they'll teach you. But we'll get you fitted for it.”
The idea of pitching Annie to supplement your training flits in your brain. What better way to learn than from the one friendly supe in your corner? But immediately you reject it. Annie is already under constant suspicion from the Seven, Homelander most of all. Not to mention what little spare time she has is just that - very little. And again, would she be able to hide your training from Hughie till the right time? Especially if she knew Butcher was involved, in more ways than one?
Not likely, the little voice huffs.
“Hughie told you about meeting at the apartment at 4, right?,” she asks, dragging you from your thoughts.
You nod.
“Okay. We'll meet there, then head to Torsten's. My window will be small though before I have to get back to the tower. So think about what you might like for the gala. He's a damn good tailor but not a miracle worker, and we're calling it pretty tight as is.”
“Sounds good. But one problem. I don't exactly have a budget for a custom fit. And Butcher wasn't completely wrong about needing financing for this.”
Annie shakes her head. “Don't worry about it. Torsten owes me a favor anyway. And it helps me get away from the tower for a time. Which…” She glances at the clock on her phone. “...I am nearly out of myself already.”
“You're not staying?”
“No,” she sighs. “I wanted to get the details to you in person, less risk of our plans being tracked or leaked that way. That and I need to talk to Hughie for a bit. I meant what I said about knowing less. Our resident asshole-”
“Which one?,” you ask in a cheeky tone.
“Our resident asshole,” she continues, “doesn't need any more reason to doubt my intentions. The less I know, the safer all of us will be if shit hits the fan, especially with Vought. Gotta keep my nose clean after the last time I was accused of treason, too.”
“I appreciate your help, Annie.” You glance over at Hughie and Butcher, still mapping out the eventual parking spot of the surveillance van. You notice MM approaching you. “I'll let you talk to your boy toy and see you tomorrow. I have a feeling I'm needed now.”
“That would be correct,” the big man says as he steps up beside you. “We need to start working on your ability to read the room. More like you should've started yesterday. So if you need anything, snacks, restroom break, whatever - now is the time. We're gonna be here late tonight.”
You give Annie another hug before she motions for Hughie to join her for a hushed discussion. You move back towards the others and the venue map with MM. “So what does this entail?”
“Body language is the big one. You use it all the time, you just don't know it. A lot of social cues are given and read more subconsciously. Your role in this depends on it.”
As Hughie and Annie call out a good night, explaining that they needed to headout, Butcher waves them off dismissively and walks towards his desk at the end of the office. “Already we got a snag in your little lesson here, MM. You think four of us is gonna be the same as reading a packed ballroom?”
“No, I think we are her training wheels and that's better than nothing.” There's a hint of exasperation in his tone. You have the distinct impression that Butcher has voiced his charming opinions to the crew on you being their spy for the event. If said impression was right, then at least you knew the crew was on your side.
Frenchie slides across his own desk with a small smile at the corners of his mouth. He disappears for a brief second before bobbing back up with a Bluetooth speaker, and begins setting it up with his phone.
MM watches him incredulously, palms up in confusion. “The fuck is he doin’? The fuck you doin’, Frenchie?”
“I am setting up for the lesson. We are teaching her body language cues, the gala is in a ballroom…” He thumbs over his phone screen before beaming at you. “So dancing serves for both, non?”
MM wipes a hand over his face as Kimiko sticks out her hands in invitation to Frenchie. “Oh my god, fucking really?”
“We're working, not fucking about!,” Butcher growls as a song comes on at random. The sound of a howl and three single notes flow out of the speaker, and Frenchie looks at it with doubt. But he shrugs and begins to turn and shuffle about with Kimiko.
You recognize now that his random playlist had chosen “Lil’ Red Riding Hood”. Not something you even expected with all the French rap you usually heard him play. You highly doubt this will be played at the gala either, but you just smile, enjoying the duo's antics as MM vents his frustration. 
“As you can see, Kimiko's body language is open. She smiles! She is relaxed!”
“Fuckin’ Christ, Frenchie…”
You nod with thick enthusiasm, ignoring Butcher grumbling. “Yes, yes. I see.”
The duo continue to wheel about in the limited space as the song progresses. “Now notice that both of us have some tension in our shoulders? That is from suppression. Why?”
“Why?,” you play along.
“To not laugh at these two boring fuckers!”
MM flips them both the finger, which they return in kind. After another moment, MM finally steps forward. “Hold on, hold on. Let's at least do this proper. Kimiko? May have your hand?”
They paused, confused. But you catch a glint in MM's eyes and you give her the thumbs up. To Frenchie’s surprise, MM takes her hand, doing his best to maintain proper dance form with the size difference. He makes a “eyes on me” motion at you.
“Watch and learn. If you didn't notice, poor Kimiko's body language was giving all the subtle signs of distress.” He begins to move into a different dance than the awkward shuffle from before. “And why? She needed saving. Because he, and his white ass, ain't got no rhythm, and this is clearly a motherfucking tango!”
“Oh fuck you! You think I can't fucking tango?”
MM sweeps Kimiko further away. “Nah, you don't get her back now. You hijack my lesson, I hijack your dance partner.”
You can't help but laugh as Frenchie stomps after them, apparently offended, and MM dancing just out of reach round the office with Kimiko standing on his toes. After the apprehension you'd had about this meeting, this is a pleasant change of pace. But you know the song is just about over, and there's still work to be done. Not to mention there was still the hardass who definitely would not be dancing.
You tear your eyes from the three cavorting about, ready to catch Butcher scowling across the room. Instead, you catch him taking advantage of the trio's distraction to stare right at you. A small knowing smirk appears as the last verse plays.
Lil’ Red Riding Hood
You sure are looking good
You're everything a big bad wolf could want.
You're hit with the memory of that night at the motel, him staring up at you with that same damn look. Those wolfish eyes. He's being awfully bold, right in front of the others. But was he really anything else?
You are not going to make this easy, are you?, you think.
And in the blink of an eye, it vanishes and he is glowering at the others. Teaching you not to be distracted it would seem. He approaches them as they settle. “Turn the music off, and it stays off,” he snaps. “All she's learned in the last three minutes is how to look like a right wanker in a crowd. Which is exactly what she doesn't fucking need when she's supposed to sneak in, and then sneak the fuck out.”
He snatches Frenchie's phone and tosses it to him. Giving the other two one last huff, he turns to you. “Let's start with identifying when someone has a concealed weapon. Something you'll actually fucking use…”
^^^
Hours later, far later than you had even expected, you sit in Butcher's car, head propped against the cool glass of the window. You had originally hoped that he would insist on a rolling session after the training you'd done with the Boys. Or rather a rolling session and seeing where it would lead. But when Butcher had volunteered to drive you home - before the others could - on the ride in the elevator down, he had informed you that he would be out looking for leads again.
You admit, you were a little disappointed. But turning your head to look at him in the passing lights, you see just a trace of fatigue in the wrinkles by his eyes. A ghost of his concussion. And to be honest, you were still a little haggard from a long day, and the long night before playing Florence Nightingale to his stubborn ass. It was better this way.
That didn't stop him from cursing your fatigue. He peeled his hand off the steering wheel and placed it on your knee, rubbing firm circles there with the pad of his thumb. Just like that night at the motel, whistling low and slow that damn song in the Flatiron, as if in case you weren't remembering it.
You arched one eyebrow at him as he parked at the curb outside your building. He arched one back at you with a devilish look. “What? Something on yer mind, love?”
“Just wondering if I'm going to have to patch you up again tonight.”
“Are you now?” His voice is thick with disbelief. He gives your thigh a warm squeeze. “That all?”
“Yep.” You make sure not to bat an eye. “Not much else to think about tonight.”
“Well in that case…” The seat creaks as he leans in and kisses you. Firm and slow. Like that hand that glides up your thigh. Like the way he presses it against the center seam of your jeans…
And he pulls away just as you inhale sharply. “...In that case, since you got nothing to think about, I'll let you dance on up to bed for the night.” He unbuckles your seat belt for you with a cocky twist of his lip.
Fucker.
“Yeah. Not much to think about.” You make no attempt at hiding the frustration in your tone. You hear Butcher chuckle as you step out of the car.
“Give Tinkerbell my regards tomorrow,” he nods. Then with a wink, “And keep that bed warm in case I need a nurse, yeah? Be seeing you real soon, love.”
He closes the door and peels out into the road. You grit your teeth at how painfully aware you are of exactly how your jeans sit now. But you shake your head with a smile as you watch his taillights shrink. Because something tells you that the reason he peeled out was to keep him from stepping out of that car with you.
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jiminiecrickets · 7 months
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jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist
wc. 2.3k
tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, exhibitionism, handjobs, edging, begging, name-calling, high and dry
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jungkook's eyes shine at the sight of the meals the waiter unloads from his arms. he leans forward eagerly, peering down into the clay pot dishes and bright, fresh greens. he wiggles beside you, so much excitement leaking out of him that you can practically taste it. you smile as he brings his hands together to clap quietly, thanking the waiter so genuinely that the man can't help but return his smile.
"wow, you really went all out," jungkook comments, rearranging the dishes for the best dish-to-plate distance for both of you. he nudges your shoulder with an endearing crinkle to his eyes. "is this an attempt to gain my favour? what'd you do?"
"i didn't do anything," you protest. "i can't spoil my man a little after a hard day's work?"
he giggles, lifting your plate to spoon a portion onto it. you sneak your arm under his elbow and steal his plate, giving him a generous mound of fried rice and a few rice paper rolls. "you never spoil me, you stingy rat. i know something's up. did you chip my favourite pyrex container? bend my steak knife? lose my charger?"
"you live with me," you snark, "so those are technically my things. and no, that didn't happen. i'm not a clutz, unlike somebody here."
"i bought them – therefore, they're mine. what's so hard to understand?"
"they're under my insurance, so therefore – they're mine. fuck you."
he smirks. "you'd like to, wouldn't you?" a corner of his lips quirks up as he places your plate in front of you. "by the way, you don't need to say 'so' and 'therefore' one after the other like that." he hums as you set his plate in front of him. he leans over and pecks your cheek. "what a dummy. ah, at least you're handsome... you need to get out of the house more often."
he's such a brat. he's also incredibly clingy, which makes it difficult to do any work from home when you do finally give in to his wishes. every fifteen minutes you get a surprise visit from your boyfriend with another bowl of sliced apples. even tonight, in this fancy restaurant with too-dim lights and black-and-gold décor, he chose to shuffle in shoulder-to-shoulder and thigh-to-thigh in the u-shaped booth rather than sitting across from you like a normal person would.
he even sat there originally, raising your hopes that he would act like a prim and proper date. he then slid over the smooth leather seats while you ordered, laying his head on your shoulder and beaming up at the poor waiter, who was definitely not being paid enough to suffer through jungkook's lovey-dovey antics.
not ten minutes go by without incident. jungkook props his chin on your shoulder. his cologne smells light and fresh, like clean linen. he points at a slice of duck meat. "i want."
you put it on his plate. he pouts at it, hooking his shoe behind your calf. slowly, it slides up the back of your leg. "no, hyung-ah! want you to feed me. ahh..."
you glance around, warm in the cheeks and not from the heat of the busy restaurant or from the starchy suit. he blinks up at you expectantly, mouth open.
his eyes are just a little too lidded to not remind you of situations far dirtier than this. you clear your throat and shove the duck meat into his mouth until he almost chokes. he pulls away from your shoulder, and so does the creeping hand across your belt.
he grumbles as he swallows. "you coulda killed me, hyung. why'd i have to fall in love with such a mean guy?"
"because i'm handsome," you say nonchalantly, "like you said. apparently, it's my only good trait."
he hooks his arm through yours with a soft whine, food forgotten. you spoon another slice of duck into his mouth – you're paying for all of it, regardless if it goes into his stomach or the bin. he would definitely appreciate it a lot more. "hyung! that's not true. i love you for other reasons, too."
"mm, is that right, darling? name one." you slide a mouthful of glass noodles between his teeth. he winks when he notices how closely you're watching, making sure to be extra slow when he drags his lips over the spoon.
how he can make that attractive, you have no idea.
"well," he hums after swallowing, "you have a big dick!"
you nearly knock over the table in your haste to slap a hand over his mouth. your face burns. you hiss, "shut up! shut the fuck up. please, we are in public."
he waits until you lower your hand. he smiles innocently. "make me, hyung."
he goes right back to eating, unhooking his arms from yours and tucking his feet under himself. he wraps his lips around the chopsticks, glancing slyly in your direction to see if you're watching. you are. his lips shine slightly with oil from the fried dishes, plump and pink from the chilli powder. they curve up into a smirk as you place a firm hand on his knee.
popping a piece of chicken in his mouth, he lets out a soft moan, eyes closing gently as he savours the taste. "so good, baby. see? i knew you had some good qualities – you always manage to choose the best dishes on the menu, even if you've never tried it before. open your mouth for jungkookie, please. here comes the aeroplane."
he lifts the chopsticks, hovering a palm under it. you maintain eye contact as you accept it begrudgingly, doing your best to slam mental understanding through to him. you're in a restaurant that celebrities frequent – if you two are seen doing anything so much as a hair too risqué, you'll be kicked to the curb and your faces will be blacklisted forever behind reception. he's already pushing it, practically sitting on your lap.
his hand brushes over the front of your pants when he draws back. the glint in his eyes tells you that it's no accident.
fine. you'll play his game.
your hand slides up his knee to his thigh, squeezing in warning. you knuckle the edge of your hand into his soft bulge, concealing the movement with a shift on the booth seat. you feel his knee jerk, nearly hitting the table.
he clears his throat and continues eating, taking your nearly-empty plate and giving you another portion of every dish. how kind of him.
his trousers are beltless – ruins the lines of his jacket, he argued – and you glide your fingers over the front, finding the cold of his zipper easily. you palm his cock, hiding your smirk behind a quaint little appetiser as his hips shuffle discreetly.
he's always loved this game, touching when he shouldn't and where he shouldn't. you try to be mature about it, knocking his hands away or kicking his feet under the table when they get too close to their mark, but he's your baby, and you don't punish him nearly enough for any of your stern lectures to truly take root in that pretty little head of his.
you drag his zipper down.
your fingers slip into the gap under the button top, tracing gentle lines along his cock. it twitches with interest.
his pants are high-waisted, which makes it easier to hook your fingers into his boxer shorts – you have to personally thank whoever made loose-fits popular again – and fish out his cock. when he feels your fingers wrap firmly around him, his head snaps towards you and his eyes widen.
you smile sweetly back at him. what did he think would happen? you turn back to your meal, and after a still moment, he follows, his movements stiffer than before.
you stroke him lazily. you don't have to do much to get him riled up – the setting seems to pluck at his seams. he shuffles around so often that you barely have to move your hand; he does it for you.
you lean in, lips by his ear. "quit moving so much, baby. you'll get caught."
jungkook's throat bobs harshly as he nods, quiet and obedient as he stares down into his plate. as a reward, your fist quickens, and his breath hitches, eyes shutting briefly as your finger slides over his wet tip, smearing his precum down the length of his hard shaft.
"what's wrong, darling?" you ask with faux innocence. "you haven't touched your dinner in some time. want to order something else? a drink?"
he shakes his head, sucking on the ring through his lower lip. his cheeks are beginning to tint pink, and his wide eyes dart around the restaurant. eventually, they fall on you. "n-no, thank you, hyung," he replies in a small voice, lifting his hands and placing them palm-down on the dark table. he raises the spoon to his mouth.
he's so good for you! your heart melts a little. maybe it's the weight of being caught with his dick out – literally – but he's been quelled, his sneaky feet and sly glances left behind entirely.
it's bad for your ego. you have him in the palm of your hand – just a few fingers and you have infamous college bad-boy jeon jungkook melting into a hot, sticky puddle.
your hand pumps him steadily under the table. if he was in his right mind, he might recognise it as the classic pop 4/4 time signature, which you do for your own amusement. he lets out a shaky sigh, listing heavily against your side. you rest your cheek against the top of his head and tighten your fist, scraping along his veins rapidly to a bouncing beat, and his knuckles turn white around his chopsticks.
you glance over them in amusement. "going to stab me with those, jeon?"
 he loosens his grip and holds them properly, rather than like a stake he'd enjoy driving into your heart. he shakes his head, uttering a weak "uh-uh" as he turns his face into your shoulder. his breaths are hot and heavy, unsteady and stuttered.
you bite back a satisfied smile. "not such a tease now, are you?" you murmur into his ear. "i wonder how long you can hold it..."
he chokes out a tiny whimper. "no – no, please, hyung, please don't make me—"
"well, what else are you going to do? come all over the bottom of this table, all over your trousers and your shoes, like a needy whore?"
he jerks into your fist with a swallowed gasp. he doesn't even bother to try and look as if he's eating dinner – he's just trying not to moan too loudly.
poor thing. you stroke his hair kindly.
his cock is soaked. you can hear your wet movements under the table. he whimpers into your shoulder, a death grip on your forearm as he humps your fist. 
 "h-hyung," he gasps softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. "hyung, ah, ah, i c-can't—"
"mm, darling? want me to stop?"
all he does is whine quietly.
"excuse me, sir?"
you look up into the concerned eyes of a waiter – the same one who served you earlier. he gestures to jungkook, whose hair covers just enough to hide the sex-addled haze of his blown irises. his red cheeks, however, are not. "is he alright?"
you chuckle, nodding. "yeah, he'll be okay after an ibuprofen and a big glass of water. not a big drinker – you understand." you gesture to your wine glass, which is half-finished. you probably won't drink the rest of it; you've got something far tastier to get yourself drunk on tonight.
the waiter nods with a sympathetic smile. he bows slightly. "right! sorry for interrupting your dinner, then. have a good evening."
you smile as he leaves. you turn back to jungkook, who finally parts his lips to let out a breathless, near-silent moan. your hand had never stopped. his fist tightens in your jacket.
"you're doing so well, darling," you whisper, his precum dripping down your knuckles. his cock pulses hotly with each quick, dragging stroke. "you're doing so well for me. doing so well for hyung. you want to be good for me, yeah?"
 he nods quickly, panting softly. "y-yeah, yeah, hyung, wanna be good f'you. 'm good jus' f'you."
the way he's slurring his words could pass him for drunk if it really came down to it. he wraps his arms around you, and you can feel his tremble even deeper now – it's not just his thighs or his hands. he's trembling all over.
he's trying so hard for you.
you twist your voice into something sweet and gentle. "that's right. you've done so well tonight – look, we've finished all of the food we ordered! want to go home now, baby?"
he nearly whines aloud, gazing up at you with dark, desperate eyes. he gulps hard. "y-yes, yes please, let's go home, let's go let's go—"
"okay, okay," you laugh, gently tucking him away into his pants. he shifts in discomfort. you give him your jacket as you slide out of the booth, and he grabs it gratefully and folds it over his arm to hold over the visible tent in his pants. "i just need to pay and we're all set. want to wait in the car?"
he flushes and nods, taking your hand in his own. "yeah, if you wouldn't mind..."
"of course. anything for my darling."
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Love ur fics🫠, also since my brain always rots for minsung x reader, I got this obscene idea, I'm so embarrassed to even say it but here it is. J in reader and M in J, simultaneously 🙈🙊🤡. Can u write about it?!
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👆🏼This is me btw👉🏼👈🏼
Ahhh I was so excited when I received this ask. 🥰 Like, really really excited!! 😃😃😃😃 Asker also asked for a bit of fluffy tail / furry kink, so I have enthusiastically thrown that in there too. @rixenluv I hope you enjoy this... I kind of went a little feral with this. 🤭
MDNI // SMUT
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CW: fluffy tail, ears, anal plugs (his and hers), unprotected sex (vaginal and anal), threesome, creampie, breeding kink, furry kink?, oral (briefly, m and f rec), aftercare, pet names (kitty, baby, cockslut)
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Pretty little kitties
"Baby, come sit. Look what I bought us." Jisung pats the cushion of the sofa whilst balancing a box the size of a large shoebox on his lap. Intrigued, you sit beside your lover and lean against him affectionately.
"Ready?" he wriggles his eyebrows at you.
"Yes, Sungie. Come on show me already." you whine and playfully smack his arm.
"Okay, okay." he lifts the lid to reveal two matching sets of kitten ears and... "Two fluffy-tailed butt plugs!" Jisung exclaims. "I've already cleaned them, so they are good to go. Oh-" he turns to pull something out from under throw cushion next to him. "lube." he looks at you expectantly. "We can get started right now. Please... can you help me put it in?"
You pick up a pair of kitten ears and place them on your head, repeating the same with jisung. "You are so adorable Han Jisung. Adorable and a fucking freak." You lean in and capture his lips with yours in a hot and heavy kiss. "Let's get naked and fuck like animals, yeah?”
Within minutes you and Jisung are completely naked in your living room. The only thing you are both wearing are the ears. Han is positioned on all fours along the length of the couch, his bare ass in the air. It's a glorious sight and all you want to do is eat him out. Why does he have to be so irresistible?
"Baby. What are you doing? I'm so horny." he complains. "Put it in me."
You prep jisung with your fingers to begin with, stretching and scissoring him open. He's already moaning and being impatient. Then, with a generous amount of lube applied, you begin to insert the silver metal plug inside of his ass. He really did choose well, the long, white fluffy tail looks adorable and you can't wait to see it dangling between his perfect asscheeks.
"Ahhh...yes...baby...fuck." he moans as you steadily push it in.
"You're doing so well, Sungie. Do you think you can take more? You're almost there." you massage on cheek while you wait for his signal.
"Fuck...baby...just put it in!" he cried.
Right then, you smirk to yourself and push the plug the rest of the way until it was securely seated in his ass. So fucking hot. You slap him hard on his asscheek.
"Ow...baby!" he protests, and then he's back up kneeling on the sofa. "Okay, your turn." he points his finger to indicate he wants you on all fours now. "Head down, ass up. Let me see you pretty little hole."
You've barely gotten yourself into position when Jisung's mouth is devouring your pussy, and several fingers are sunk into your cunt. "Fuck. Baby. You're dripping wet."
"Feels good, Ji. You know I love it when you fill me up so good...fingers...your fingers are fucking me so good." you push back, attempting to grind against his hand. You could come just from this.
Jisung withdraws his fingers and smears your wetness around your pussy lips, and then around your asshole. "Such a sexy hole, baby." he kisses your lower back and hip. "Just perfect. Begging me to push my fingers inside." he whispers as he presses his finger into your tight hole. He takes a few minutes to loosen you up. "I think we can try the plug now, baby. You ready? Can you be good for me?"
All you can do is nod, you are in such a state from just his fingers that your words have left your brain. "Y-yes." you stammer.
You feel the cold, lubed metal at your entrance. Fuck, you are ready, and you just know you are going to open up and suck the plug right in. The stretch feels so satisfying. A little bit of a burn, quickly followed by sweet relief. Jisung experiments with withdrawing the plug part way and pushing it back in, gently fucking you with the toy.
"You look so filthy, baby."
"You look filthy,Jisung." a voice says from the doorway.
Both yours and jisung's heads snap towards the voice. Minho. Your housemate. Leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest. You track his eyes as they sweep over your bodies, and a flush spreads through your cheeks when you imagine what the pair of you must look like.
"Don't stop on my account." Minho says quietly, showing no emotion.
"Min. We-we can take it to the bedroom, so you don't have to see. Sorry, I didn't think this through." Jisung says, assuming Minho was definitely not serious in his remark.
"I said don't stop." Minho repeats eyes glued to the tail poking out of Jisung. "Are you two... kittens?" Minho's mouth curls up at one side. This must be so amusing to him.
"Yes." you reply timidly, blinking your eyes innocently.
"Splendid. I want to watch two pretty little kitties fuck." He enters the room fully now, and pushes an armchair over so he can get a front row seat.
There is a moments silence while you and Jisung watch Minho settle into the chair. He is fucking serious.
Something inside of you stirs. Arousal, a thrilling feeling, a desire to put on a show. "Ji, I need you inside me." you plead. "Need to be filled up with your cock."
Jisung, pulls his attention away from Minho and pumps his cock a few times. "Yeah? You ready for me to ruin you, baby?" holding your tail out of the way, he presses his cock against your entrance, squeezing int into your tight, warm cunt and pulling a long moan from you. You feel so much fuller having both holes filled.
Once Jisung's fully seated inside of you, your bodies flush with one another, he grips onto your hips, and starts to fuck you hard and fast.
"Fuck, baby...pussy's so good...So tight." he growls, fucking into you so hard you can barely catch your breath. You turn your head to watch Minho, he's solely focused on the scene before him. A dark desire is painted all over his face. He locks eyes on yours and he winks at you. It pleases you greatly.
Minho's hands come to rest on his belt buckle, pausing for a moment before proceeding to undo his trousers and freeing his hard cock.
"Lay on your back. I want to see you kiss." Minho instructs you.
While you and Jisung change positions, you see Minho strip himself of his clothes and saunter towards you. He places on knee on the couch cushion beside your head. "Open for me, kitten. I've got a special treat for you.”
You open your mouth, allowing Minho to push his cock into you. You accept him enthusiastically, opening your throat up. Jisung sinks his cock back into you, making you moan around Minho, while Minho holds your head steady as he fucks your mouth slow and deep.
"Thought you wanted to see us kiss?" Jisung pants.
"Hmm." is all Minho replies. He looks down at your watery eyes. "I do." he pulls out of your mouth with a pop. "Looks like there's only one place to put my cock then."
Jisung can barely contain his excitement at the realisation of what Minho means.
Minho strokes Jisung's back as he makes his way around behind him and kneeling on the couch. "Two pretty kittens." Minho coos, stroking Jisung's tail. "All prepped for me." he tugs at Jisung's tail making him whimper.
"Ji, kiss me." you whisper, and pull Jisung down on top of you and taking him a sloppy kiss that is all tongue and saliva. Jisung only pulling away from the kiss when he feels Minho remove the plug. "Fuck." he mutters as he nuzzles into your neck. You watch Minho over Jisung's shoulder. His eyes are heavy with lust as he watches himself line his cock up with jisung. Jisung stops thrusting so that Minho can squeeze into Jisung’s ass.
The pressure of Minho pushing into Jisung pushes Jisung deeper into you. Jisung cries out at the stretch, you cry out at the weight of the two men pushing deeper, deeper into you cervix. You hook your arms under your thighs, pulling your knees up near your chest so they can get as deep as humanly possible.
Minho begins to fuck into Jisung. It’s an incredible sight to see. The two men have a look of ecstasy on their faces. Minho watches his cock working in and out of Jisung’s hole. Jisung is gazing at you with a fucked out expression, every now and then dipping in for a kiss.
Every thrust from Minho causes Jisung to thrust into you. Every so often Minho stops, allowing Jisung to fuck into your cunt at his own pace, while Minho stays buried deep inside him. Then there are moments where Minho would hold onto Jisung’s hips, and push Jisung into you, controlling Jisung’s thrusts for him.
It is driving you absolutely wild and you think you’ll split in two. The force of the two men pounding into you, and the depth of Jisung’s cock tears up your pussy in the most satisfying way. Your orgasm is near, the familiar feeling of shattering around Jisung’s cock so very close.
The plug inside you makes you feel incredibly full, and you wonder for a moment what it might feel like with a cock in your ass. Maybe they’ll be up for that kind of thing another time?
“Ji, such a cockslut… so pretty for me.” Minho rambles. “Little kittens have greedy holes… need fucking so bad, huh?”
“Fuck!” You cry out of nowhere, surprising yourself with how close your climax is. “Please…don’t stop… don’t stop…fuck me harder… harder!”
“Come on, kitten, come around his cock…milk him. Kitten wants milks doesn’t she?” Minho grips Jisung’s hips harder and uses him to fuck you over the edge.
“Ooooo…. I’m cuuuumminggg…” you sob as your walls squeeze around Jisung.
“Fuck… so….so fucking tight… gonna fill you up baby. Gonna breed you… take it. Take all of it baby…” Jisung rambles. You feel him coating your insides filling you just as he said he would.
“Fuck.” Minho growls, and with a few final thrusts cums deep inside Jisung.
“Quick.” Minho pulls out, barely even having time to recover. “ both of you on all fours.” You and Jisung kneel on all fours, asses side by side on the couch and resting your arms in the back of it. Still with kitten ears on. Your plug had since been removed. You feel Han’s cum seeping out of your hole.
“Yes, so dirty.” Minho coos, watching it ooze out and slowly dribble down your inner thigh. “Oop and yours too Ji. Both pretty holes oozing cum.”
He watches intently for a good few minutes before insisting he shower you both and popping you into bed.
“Aren’t you going to stay with us?” Jisung asks as Minho is about to leave the room.
He turns, looking at you both endearingly. “Do…do you want me to?” He asks quietly.
“We’re your pretty little kittens. You have to stay.” You smile.
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