#what is with this man and cutting out his shirts

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

#jason todd loves this stranger #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x y/n #jason todd/you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc x you #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #jason todd loves his gf

[incognit0slut]

Behind Closed Doors 2

Part one

You welcome Spencer back to the team with a special gesture of your own—and find yourself falling even harder for him after he opens up to you.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) sub older spence my beloved, handjob, oral (m), spit kink?, semi-public (they are FREAKY), and idk if we can call this angst but we get to know how he feels about returning to work ~3.9k words

A/n: I didn’t plan for a part two, but rewriting scenes with specific looks of him is growing on me. Also, this happens before Emily tells him to teach seminars on his leave. And tell me what you think!!

He looked good in pink.

That was an understatement, the man looked good in pretty much anything. But today? Something was different. Something looked different. His whole appearance seemed to be on point than usual. You noticed his typically tousled hair was styled and swept back, which was a very rare sight, and it was hard for you to look away.

“…as you have obviously heard, Dr. Spencer Reid has been fully reinstated,” Emily announced, snapping you back to reality. “Welcome back, Spence.”

“Whoo-hoo! Yes!” Penelope cheered, only to be met by Emily’s pointed look. “That’s not the end, is it?”

Your boss shook your head and then proceeded to continue with another announcement. You stole a glance towards him again.

Maybe it was just really his shirt that made him look good? It wasn't even overly tight, but snug enough to accentuate the lines of his broad shoulders. Has his shoulders always been that wide? Now that you think about it, he did seem to be putting on a little weight. Not that it was a bad thing, and not that you didn't like how he looked before, but you couldn't help noticing how he filled out his shirt, and for some reason, it was doing something to you. 

Probably more than something because now you wondered what other places he filled out.

A sudden round of applause filled the room, and you joined in, tearing your gaze away from him only to find Matt Simmons grinning at you. You looked away and followed everyone as they shuffled around the room, making sure to sit as far away from Spencer as possible, although luck wasn't on your side when Matt settled into the seat beside you.

"You don't seem too thrilled about me joining the team," he murmured, leaning in close.

“What do you mean? I’m always open to new faces around here.”

“Not as excited as having an old member back, though,” Matt remarked, prompting you to snap your head at him, a slight frown forming on your face. He winked teasingly, and you groaned, shoving his shoulder away. 

“Ugh, do not wink at me.”

His laughter filled the air, but it quickly faded as the atmosphere in the room turned serious. Penelope began briefing everyone on the new case, and you did your best to mask your grimace every time a gruesome picture flashed on the screen. By the time Emily called out, “Wheels up in thirty,” you rose from your seat.

To talk to him or not talk to him?

You weighed the pros and cons, sneaking a quick glance at Spencer, who was deeply absorbed in studying the case files. The logical part of your brain told you it wasn't the best time to strike up a conversation, especially with only thirty minutes left until you had to leave. But there was something about him, it felt almost instinctual, like you were naturally drawn to him, and like a magnetic force, you couldn't resist.

Oh, fuck it—you decided to approach him.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you made your way over to where he was sitting, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

"Hi.”

"Hey," he greeted, looking up with a small smile at the corners of his lips. "What's up?"

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

"Sure," Spencer replied, his expression curious yet amused. He set aside the files he had been studying and turned his attention fully to you.

“In private?”

There was a brief pause, and you swore you could practically cut the tension with a knife. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he rose from his seat, his gaze never wavering from yours. You tilted your head back to look at him as his presence seemed to fill the room,and you couldn't help but hold your breath as you waited for his response.

“Of course,” he finally agreed, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he turned, leading the way to a more secluded spot, past the bullpen, past the glass doors, and down the hallway.

Once you were both out of earshot, he leaned in. “How private are we talking about?”

You nudged his side before guiding him towards the nearest office. As you stepped inside, your heart pounded in your chest, and you quickly glanced around the room to make sure it was empty. When you confirmed it was unoccupied, you turned back to see Spencer closing the door behind him.

Then everything snapped.

You weren't sure who made the first move, whether it was you or both of you acting on instinct, but before you could process it, his lips were on yours, his arms pulling you close, tongue colliding with your own. You gasped at his eagerness and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed yourself against him.

With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you pushed him against the nearest wall, your hands tangling in his hair as his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing lightly. A soft moan escaped your lips and he responded by deepening the kiss further. It felt like time stood still as you lost yourself in the heat of his mouth against yours, until you finally pulled back, your lips brushing against his jaw.

“What…” He gasped when your mouth trailed lower. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned into his neck, his scent filling your senses. Why did he have to smell so good? “I think it’s your hair.”

“My… hair?”

You pulled back slightly, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, your eyes roaming over the exposed skin of his chest where the top buttons were left undone. “Or maybe it’s the shirt.”

“My shirt?”

“Yes!” You half-exclaimed, half-whispered, trying to keep your voice down. “I think I’m ovulating and you’re not helping.”

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, a flush creeping up his neck as he processed your words. "Oh," he managed to say. “I didn't expect that.”

"Sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”

But before you could say anything else, his expression softened, and his grip on your hips tightened. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured you. “It’s common for women to experience changes in their hormones during ovulation. It's completely natural and nothing to be embarrassed about."

You looked up at him, your hands sliding down his chest. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just your body doing its thing,” he said reassuringly. "And honestly, it's kind of flattering to know that... I have that effect on you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your palms drifted lower. “What else do you know about this stuff?”

“Well, around the time of ovulation, a woman's body produces more estrogen, which can increase libido—”

His breath hitched when his eyes fell on your hand resting over his pants.

“What?” you prompted, a playful glint in your eye. “Why did you stop?”

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly as he met your gaze. "I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I was just going to mention that… increased estrogen levels during ovulation can also lead to heightened sensitivity in erogenous zones—”

But his words trailed off into a sigh as you palmed his arousal over his pants, feeling the hardness beneath your touch. He was undeniably aroused, and the way he responded to your touch only fueled you even more. With a mischievous grin, you ran your palm up and down his length, feeling him throb in response before letting out a playful giggle.

You didn’t realize it would be this fun to be the one doing the teasing.

“Tell me more, Spence.”

He swallowed hard before managing to speak. "W-Well,” he stammered. "Increased estrogen levels can also... enhance blood flow to certain areas, leading to heightened sensitivity and... uh, increased pleasure—”

But before he could finish his sentence, you applied a little more pressure, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure. His words faltered, his focus shifting entirely to the delicious sensation of your hand stroking him. Your eyes traveled down, watching the way his cock pressed against the fabric of his pants, noting how thick and hard he was. 

But as your gaze lingered, you caught sight of the time on your watch, and reality came crashing back in. You reluctantly pulled your hand away from him, and Spencer blinked at your sudden withdrawal, his desire-clouded mind trying to focus on you.

“What's wrong?” He whispered. “Why did you stop?”

“I… I kind of got carried away, I’m sorry," you noted. "We should probably get back before they start to wonder where we are."

He went still, and so did you. The room’s air conditioner hummed softly, filling the silence as you both simply stared at each other. When he didn’t respond, you slowly backed away and moved toward the door, but his grip on your arm stopped you. You turned towards him, eyebrows raised while he seemed to hesitate to say the next words.

After a moment, he sighed, his gaze softening as he finally found the words he was looking for.

“The other day, after we… you know,” he emphasized, and you nodded, urging him to continue. “I had to deal with this myself.”

His eyes flicked over the bulge in his pants and you stifled a laugh, amused at his sudden fluster. “Yeah, you said you were going to ignore it.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “I couldn’t.”

“And?”

“And…” he hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before meeting yours again.

There was a moment of silence until you realized what he was implying. You gasped, the hand he wasn’t holding covering your mouth in shock. “Here?” you asked in disbelief. “At work?”

His cheeks flushed, but he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “In the bathroom.”

“Spencer,” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, “That’s...”

“I know, I know,” he cut in, his tone self-deprecating. “But in my defense, it was all your fault.”

You giggled. “Me? I barely touched you!”

"Exactly, but it was enough to drive me crazy,” he said, and when he saw you laughing, he gave you a deadpanned look. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh come on, it kind of is.” You shook your head in amusement. “Why are you telling me this?”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Because I don’t want to leave this room and deal with it by myself again.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Is this your way of asking me to touch you?”

His eyes widened almost cartoonishly wide, the flush creeping up his cheeks contrasting against the paleness of his skin, making his reaction all the more apparent.

“Please?”

You couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. “Spencer, we only have…” You glanced over your watch. “Fifteen minutes left.”

“I can probably finish in five.”

You bit your bottom lip. How did you end up in this predicament all over again? Although this time, you felt like you had the upper hand, and somehow, it was strangely exciting to see him so affected, to have him practically begging for your touch when you were supposed to be in a hurry.

He looked at you expectantly. How could you say no when his eyes were wide and pleading? 

“You know what?” You turned to him fully, taking a step forward. “I think you deserve it. It’s your first day back, after all.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached for him again. His breath hitched slightly as you undid his belt and slowly lowered the zipper of his pants. His arousal strained against the fabric and you briefly met his gaze. Without a word, you slid your hand inside his pants, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He felt full in your hand and painfully hard. When his response was nothing but his ragged breathing, you reached for the waistband of his briefs with your other hand, pulling down slightly until his cock was freed from its confines. 

“Spence, you’re so…” Your voice trailed off, eyes fixated on him. The tip was thick and bulbous, a deeper shade than the shaft where pulsing veins ran up the long length. You were mesmerized by his size; it wasn’t too big nor too small, just perfect.

“You’re so pretty.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he looked back at you. “You think so?”

You nodded, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. A droplet of wetness glistened on the tip, and unable to resist, your thumb brushed along it, earning a sharp intake of breath from him as his hips instinctively bucked against your touch. With a newfound confidence, you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his hardness pulsating against your palm. 

The skin was soft as you’d expected, warm to the touch, but his length was stiff and throbbing when you squeezed. If you stayed still, you were sure you could count his heartbeat. As your hand moved up and down tentatively, trying to take in every detail of his member, you couldn’t believe you were finally feeling each vein that bulged up his shaft.

“Do you mind if I spit on it?”

He let out a low groan, his head falling back against the wall. “No.”

“Really? Coming from someone who’s germaphobic?” You smiled amusedly. "I thought you'd be more concerned about hygiene."

"I'll make an exception for this."

You couldn't help but laugh at his response. Trusting your instincts, you craned your neck down and let the liquid spill from your mouth, coating his tip in a steady flow. Your saliva glistened in the light, slowly trickling down the length of his cock. Then you began to stroke him gently, you felt him respond eagerly, his breaths growing heavier and his hips rocking gently against your hand.

His head fell back against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “God, that feels…” 

Feeling a surge of pride at his reaction, you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Is this how you touched yourself in the bathroom?”

He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he met your gaze. 

“Were you thinking of me?” You pressed on. “Did you imagine me touching you like this?”

His response was barely a whisper, but you caught it. “Yes…”

His breath was warm against your face, and you looked up, taking in the way he was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted as soft moans slipped out of his mouth. Who would’ve thought he made the prettiest sounds? You knew he was trying to keep his voice down, but the sight of him struggling to suppress his pleasure only made it more thrilling.

“Or did you imagine me getting on my knees, taking you in my mouth?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you traced your tongue along your bottom lip. “Did you picture yourself deep inside of me, how tight and wet I would be?”

His forehead dipped until it was resting against yours, breaking the self-control he was desperately trying to maintain. “Oh god—I-I can’t hold it any longer.”

Your response was simply to increase your speed, your fist moving in fast short strokes up his leaking cock. He was slick with arousal, and you focused your attention on the sensitive tip, prompting even louder sounds of pleasure from him.

“Wait—" he gripped your wrist, forcing you to stop. “I’m so close.”

You frowned, watching the conflict play out in his expression. "I thought you wanted this?"

“I know, it’s just—“ His brows furrowed, a hint of desperation in his eyes as he struggled to maintain control. Then, with a defeated sigh, he admitted, “I don’t want to make a mess.”

You scanned the room, your mind racing for a solution. The office offered no privacy, and there was nothing around to help clean up the mess he would definitely make, so you needed a different approach.

Without hesitation, you got down on your knees.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re gonna—” he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Shh,” you hushed, lightly hitting his thigh. “Just help me hold my hair up.”

He hesitated for a moment, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Slowly, he reached out, gathering your hair in his hands. You felt the warmth of his fingers against your scalp, his touch gentle yet firm. You leaned in, your mouth hovering just inches from his swollen tip as you glanced up, meeting his eyes one last time before you took him into your mouth.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you could feel every twitch and throb as you wrapped your lips around him. His grip on your hair tightened, a guttural moan escaping his lips, your tongue swirling around his tip, tasting the salty bead of arousal that had formed there. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you took him deeper, jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth while wrapping your hand around what was left.

You moved slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. It didn’t take long until your mouth was working in tandem with your hand, creating a rhythm that had his body shaking. The room was quickly filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and soft moans, and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. There you were, hiding behind an empty office with the potential of getting caught. 

But you didn’t care, nor did Spencer, as he held your hair and bucked his hips into your mouth. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. He was so, so close, and you wanted to push him over the edge. You quickened your pace, your mouth moving up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to create a tighter seal.

His moans grew louder, and you could tell he was struggling to keep quiet. “Please,” he whined, his voice strained. “I-I’m gonna…”

A choked gasp cut off his words as he reached his climax, his release hitting the back of your throat in hot, pulsing waves. You swallowed him down, savoring the taste of him, the warmth spreading through you as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression was one of pure ecstasy, mixed with a hint of disbelief and awe.

As he slowly came down from his high, his grip on your hair loosened, and he gently helped you to your feet. "That was..." he trailed off, still catching his breath. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I think you deserved it,” you said before pointing a finger at him. “But we can’t keep doing this at work.”

He looked at you, amusement and disbelief dancing in his eyes as he adjusted his clothes. You could almost read his thoughts: you were the one who initiated this, not once, but twice. The first time might have been out of panic, but this time, it was all you.

“I’m serious,” you said, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. “Now that you’re back, we should keep a certain distance between us. No more sneaking around.”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. But then you watched as his expression suddenly shifted, as if he remembered something and his smile turned into a frown followed by the furrow of his eyebrows.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you, his hands sinking into the front pockets of his slacks. “I haven’t told this to anyone but… there’s a condition to my reinstatement.”

“What do you mean?” 

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “For every hundred days that I spend on the field, I’m required to take thirty days off.” 

You blinked, processing the information. “Wait, what? So you’re not fully back?”

“Technically I am, just not how I want it to be.”

You watched as his shoulders slightly fell. “You’re not happy about this, are you?”

“What am I supposed to do on my days off? A whole month of sitting around in my apartment doing nothing?”

You took a step closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You’re not going to be sitting around doing nothing. Think of it as an opportunity. You can catch up on your reading, maybe even take a trip somewhere.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the same. I want to be out there, doing my job, helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But you can’t give your best if you’re burnt out. These breaks could help you recharge, keep you sharp.”

He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I just feel like I’m being benched, like they don’t trust me fully.”

You tugged his arm, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Hey, they trust you. This is about keeping you safe. After everything you went through… Spence, you deserve this break. They just want to make sure you’re at your best every time you’re back in the field.”

When he didn’t seem to fully absorb your words, you pressed on.

“Think about it, you have so many options. You could pick up a new hobby, spend more time with your mom... or finally visit those places you’ve always talked about. Like that museum you mentioned before, what was it called again?”

His gaze softened as he listened to your suggestions. "The Smithsonian," he replied after a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. “I've always wanted to spend a whole day there without rushing.”

"Exactly! Now you'll have the time to do that."

He nodded slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I guess you're right.”

“See? It’s all about perspective.”

His lips curved into a smile as you both fell into silence. Then, he studied you, his eyes scanning your features as if trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in your mind through the subtle shifts of your expression.

“Will you come with me?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected question.

“You want me to come with you to the museum?”

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft, almost quiet. "Will you?"

It was a simple question, but it held a weight that you couldn't ignore. You had spent plenty of time together, grabbing lunch, chatting at the coffee shop down the road. But this felt… different. More personal. More intimate.

And suddenly it came crashing to you. You were so absorbed in what was happening between you, the stolen kisses, the physical attraction, that you didn’t realize your friendship was never going to be the same again.

On one hand, the idea of spending more time alone with him was undeniably tempting, but the rational part of you wasn’t sure if it was the wisest thing to do. He was your friend, a good one at that, and getting emotionally involved with friends could either strengthen or strain the relationship.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you searched for the right words. But before you could answer him, both of your phones vibrated with a notification. You both looked at your own devices and read the message.

“We’re leaving now,” Spencer announced, shoving back his phone in his pocket. “We should go.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer before you turned towards him. “You know what? You should head out first. I need some time to myself.”

He furrowed his brows slightly. You could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t press on. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Just give me a minute and I’ll follow behind.”

His eyes lingered on you for another second before he nodded, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Sure, I’ll save a seat for you.”

You returned his smile, though it felt more like a grimace as you watched him exit the room. The click of the door closing behind him seemed to echo in the sudden silence, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts as the rush of emotions flooded over you. It felt as if you were standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to leap or retreat.

With a deep breath, you pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm the fluttering inside. But the truth was undeniable—you were falling for him, and you were falling fast.

#behind closed doors #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction #gifwriting

[radiance1]

Tim, officially, does not have a new caretaker.

Tim, unofficially, does have a new caretaker.

A large, large man with long flaming purple hair that was capable of touching the floor if it didn't move like fire with sharp glowing green eyes and a neutral, if a bit of a resting bitch face, expression on his face.

Comparatively, he was not dressed oddly. Nothing but a white compression shirt, grey sweatpants and a pair of black sandals. The only thing odd about it was the sword constantly strapped to his waist, though Tim ignored it when he saw the man using it to chop ingredients.

Fright, he called himself, and Tim never asked if it was his actual name or not. He was just glad someone came over as constantly as he does.

He doesn't know where the man goes at night, after making sure he's tucked into bed and asleep, but he never pried. Mostly because he wasn't supposed to know that, and he doesn't want Fright to catch onto the fact that he was constantly sneaking out at night either.

So they'll both keep their secrets.

===

Fright Knight was at a loss with himself.

His master, Pariah Dark, had been once again released from the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep and he wasted no time to return to his side. Even with his previous betrayl.

The events that followed were unexpected.

His master did not continue his eons long war with life. Though it had long since turned silent with his imprisonment, it was still brewing under the current of 'peace' that the Ghost Zone fell into.

Fright Knight knew that well.

So, what exactly was he supposed to do when his master returned to his time as naught but a humble farmer and started to rebuild the bridge he had long burnt with the Master of Time?

He felt... conflicted.

Of course, reconnecting with the Ghost of Time was a good thing, and he has been subject to witness just how much passion they had for each other during days long past.

But his master picking up a life that was not one honed through blood was always an odd thing for him to experience. Two peas in a pod, as some would say they were.

War and Fear.

Where War went, Fear followed. Rivers of flowing blood with storms of fear promised was something too tempting for him to resist.

Fear was a sword, and he was War's blade.

So it was not something easy for him to adjust to when War settled down into peace and sought prosperity instead of his namesake. Of course, he, as always, adjusted regardless of the situation and followed his master in his newest endeavor.

It was much harder to preserve a life, than it was to end it. They both came to realize. On his master's part, farming was something he pondered over and donned for a brief time eons ago, the new methods of today clashing wildly with what little he knew of the activity before War sung to him again. For Fright Knight, he had not a single nail's worth of experience in the act, never having had an interest like War did and as such, never learned.

It felt rather odd to use his blade to cut gifts from the land, but if he replaced them with images of enemies long since snuffed, it wasn't exactly hard.

He could not stay there for long; however, it was just too... different, from what he was used to. The Ghost King knew this and told him he was free to be left to his own devices so long as it did not affect the rules the Master of Time had set for them.

Or rather, War. But as Fear was in his service, he was not exactly exempt from said constraints, either.

So he wandered, keeping to his 'human' persona he was told to set for himself here. He was thankful that these beings called Meta's existed as no one gave him more than a second glance.

Though if that was more something to do with his height he did not know.

He came upon a city, one of shadows and filled with curses in numbers that even made him pause in slight bafflement. Lady Gotham, the city's spirit, brushed against him as soon as he stepped foot within her haunt, and it did not take long for them to reach and accord.

Fear was allowed to stay, so long as he did not do anything she did not permit. He was fine with said rules, after all, what was another constraint compared to those set by Time itself?

He had a favorable view of this city, just the ambient fear alone made it worth stepping inside. It was better than War's attempt at peace, though it was nothing due to the being itself he was just... used to being surrounded by fear.

Then he met a human child by the name of Timothy Drake. A meeting by chance and nothing else, but he did need something to do by Lady Gotham's suggestion.

So he became the boy's 'caretaker' though if he were a good one was something he could not comment on.

He did not need sleep, his new ward did, so when night fell, he always stepped out of the city to go back to his master and reappeared the next morning.

The thing about his new master's attempt at peace, was that he was quite willing to give away the gifts he received from the land. Which was helpful, considering he had no idea how to acquire money in this new age.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #Pariah Dark #Fright Knight #Tim Drake #Clockwork #Pariah and Clockwork are more in the background tho #Just a lil dip into my headcanon of Pariah Dark being the ancient of War #:3 #Calling Pariah War and Fright Knight Fear #Teehee #Just a lil thing I thought up #Nothing biggie #Also #dark ages #Dark ages ship #Not heavily though

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Smoking with Price

F!/AFAB!Reader x Price fluff piece. Word count 2.7k (oops it got away with me) Warnings: Weed and Cigar smoking, alcohol mention(brief), Soap is a menace, a little angst, happy ending.

Price Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3

You met on a riverside patio in a pub in Hereford.

Him nursing a large measure of whisky and a fat cigar. You with a soft drink and a fat spliff perched between your lips.

It’s balmy, bloody Mediterranean your grandfather would have said, as you exhale a heady cloud of smoke from your lungs. The cheap tobacco aftertaste heavy on your tongue as you feel the buzz brewing deep in your chest. You hate how the UK smoking culture always cuts weed with tobacco, but that’s your fault for buying pre-rolled.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you hear someone groan behind you, the heavy thunk of the patio door follows soon after the stranger’s grunt of disapproval.

“Sorry,” you say flatly, not really caring for the wanker’s comfort when he’s likely to just be coming out here to rapidly huff a few Lambert & Butlers – worse yet, Sterling Super Kings – before going back to the poor girls he has been dry-humping against all night.

“What’re you apologising for?” The gruff voice asks as you turn over your shoulder to address him.

“Thought you were bitching about this,” you say as you wave your dominant hand back and forth, spliff caught between your index and middle finger as the orange tip glows angrily against the darkening sky. You don’t know if it’s the high or the fact you haven’t gotten laid in months, but the moment your eyes connect with him you’re done for.

He has eyes like blown glass, bright blue with an intensity that makes you feel almost shy beneath his gaze. His beard is thick but well kept, despite clearly being able to grow it full, its styled into a heavy set of mutton chops. On anyone else it might look comical, but he isn’t anyone else.

You know you’re staring, but he’s not shy either. Those baby blues raking up and over you as he clearly fights a battle in his head over whether or not to join you. You don’t mind the pause, the indecision, it gives you a little longer to ogle.

He’s broad, like ridiculously wide with strong shoulders that pull at the seams of his white t-shirt. You never thought you were into body hair, but here you are practically salivating at the way his chest hair teases up out of his collar. His khaki cargo shorts sit low on his hips and your eyes are drawn to his thick calves. His hair is thick there too, prompting you to wonder how hairy he is elsewhere-.

“Christ, no, didn’t even see you there.”

Ouch.

You meet his gaze as he cringes, clearly realising how abrupt that sounded.

“Sorry,” he starts but you shrug him off, bringing the spiff back to your lips to take a long drag, trying not to grimace as you fully realise how high the tobacco to weed ratio in the blunt really is.

“S’okay, don’t owe me shit,” you say with a shrug.

“My mother raised me better than to make a beautiful woman feel dejected,” he says, voice softer now, almost sultry, as he settles a metre or so to your right. A respectable distance. He pulls a white tube with red detailing from his pocket, you smile at the familiar sight as he pops it open to reveal a hefty cigar.

“Going to give me whiplash with that turnaround, soldier,” you scoff as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You look over the banks of the Wye, unsurprised at how high the river is this after the recent rainfall. You can just about make out the cathedral on the far bank, it’s an oddly romantic scene.

I must be fucking baked.

You think to yourself with a coy smile as you’re jolted back to the here and now as the stranger speaks again.

“What makes you think I’m a soldier, love?”

“A hunch,” you say with a smirk as you turn to face the handsome man, you’re not going to give up your secrets so quicky.

“Oh?” he smiles right back as he pats his many pockets, looking for a lighter, “Enlighten me?”

“You’re not local,” you start as you watch him grow more frustrated, the furrow in his brow endearing, “At least, not in the traditional sense, accents all wrong,” you say slowly as you reach into your pocket for your own lighter.

“Go on,” he grumbles as he looks to you with a silent plea for help etched on his face. You toss him your lighter as you tease your spliff back to life, you caught it just before the last embers had died.

“Your choice of smoke is the dead giveaway thought, you’re not stuffy enough to be one of the local rich pricks, so it’s soldier or hipster,” you say with a breathy exhale as he rests the cigar between his plush lips. You swallow dryly as you look down to see your glass empty.  

“Good observational skills,” he says with a smile as he ignites the lighter, “I’m committed to this the moment I light up,” he warns as he takes your lighter from your outstretched hand, “Fancy sticking around and keeping this old Captain company?”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” you smile in triumph as you nod, “And yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.”

He cocks his head to the side for a second before nodding in appreciation, he slowly lights the cigar, fingertips gently rolling it around to get the right heat distribution. You’re mesmerised as you watch him work.

“Thanks,” he says softly, his fingers brush yours as he gives you back your lighter. You pocket it without a word. There’s a tension churning in your gut as you try not to get your hopes up.

“Want another round?” He asks as he finishes the amber liquid in his glass, “I’m buying.”

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you nod as he passes you his cigar.

“For safe keeping, you’re welcome to some if you want,” he says with a wink before heading back into the pub. You’re left to your thoughts, as you try to decide if you should shoot your shot with him or not. You’re desperate for a good lay, but there’s something about him that makes you want more than that. You’re not sure you could deal with the bitter aftertaste of a one-night stand with him with no promise of seeing him again.

You shake off the creeping negative thoughts as you refocus on the here and now, you place the cigar between your lips and take a short, tentative puff. It’s rich, the flavour coating your tongue with warm woody notes and hints of coffee.

You’re warm, fuzzy even, as you imagine what it would be like to kiss him. You wonder if he would taste like the cigar trapped between your lips as you take another slow, savouring pull. Or would he melt on your mouth like the rich, peaty whiskey you assume he drinks. You can make believe, even if you may never find out.

You hear the patio door open and close once more, you’re about to make a silly quip about getting back here double time when you hear an unfamiliar Scottish lilt in place of your cockney companion.

“So, you’re the reason Price is rushin’ to get out of his birthday party.”

You snub out the last dregs of your joint on the ashtray as you try not to snort at the Scot. First a man with mutton chops, now one with a mohawk? You couldn’t make this shit up.

“Price?” You ask a little fuzzily, the high blurring things around the edges a little as you try and connect the very obvious dots, “Oh, you mean John?”

“Oh, la-dee-dah, he’s given you his name and his cigar, that’s practically betrothal right there, lass,” The Scot barks out a laugh as he flops back against the low wall, grinning at you like a Cheshire cat.

“Respectfully,” you roll your eyes as you bring the cigar to your lips but don’t take another drag as you eye up the objectively attractive man, “I’m not interested in the dick waving, negging, or whatever this is.”  

He’s in jeans and a Metallica t-shirt, he’s similarly strong and broad to Price, with ice-blue eyes. You wonder scathingly if the SAS has a beauty standard these days.

“Ouch,” He groans, clutching at his heart as if you’d physically wounded him, “I can see why he’s so giddy, he likes them feisty.”

“Alright, piss off,” you grumble, mood souring at the overly familiar ribbing from the stranger, it screams of boys will be boys or some other misogyny-riddled play. Sending the asshole friend out to rile you up so Price can sweep you off your feet, big strong Captain to the rescue.

“Ah, hen, I didn’t mean t’ upset you,” he starts but you can’t shake the ick, this was a mistake.

“Save it,” you say as you rest the cigar on the ash tray, “Asshole.”

“Fuck,” you hear the Scot groan as you slip down the side steps that lead down to the near bank of the river.

Maybe it’s because you’re high and a little jumpy, but you’re not in the mood to be toyed with. There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that thinks you overreacted, that the Scotsman maybe came on a little strong but meant no harm.

But you’ve already made the impulsive decision to leave, following the river back towards your Air BnB where a cold shower and a lumpy bed await. You feel stupid, but know you’ll feel worse if you walk back to the pub now.

Made your bed. Now lie in it.

You scold yourself inwardly as you slow your pace from an angry lurch to a pitiful bimble. You’re walking for a while before you realise you should have gotten back to the red back door of the riverside property you’re staying at already. You pull out your phone, bringing up the address of the Air BnB on Maps. You watch as the GPS calibrates and your stomach drops.

You’re going the wrong way.

You’re rooted to the spot, caught between the river and the prospect of trying to navigate the winding residential streets of Hereford. You know Uber doesn’t operate in the area, and you don’t fancy tracking down one of the Beryl Bikes to cycle back through the small town. You know it’s a straight route from here to the property if you just suck it up and risk being spotted on your way back past the pub.

“Fuck it,” you grumble to yourself as you turn back around, power-walking back the way you came, knowing it’s the logical, and most direct route back to your accommodation.

You’re passing back by the pub when you hear the commotion, you almost ignore it, but you hear John’s voice loud and clear.

“She was nice, Soap, did you really have to scare her off?”

You pause, hidden from view above as you see John leaning back against the balcony wall where you had been only minutes before. His back is turned to you as he chews out someone further in on the terrace - you guess the Scot from before.

“I’m sorry, I was just havin’ a bit of fun, didn’t think she’d scarper like that,” he admits and you think you hear remorse in his heavily accented lilt.

“Well, you thought wrong, fuckin’ hell,” John turns around at the last minute, just as you’re about to leave and his eyes meet yours in the murky gloom of dusk. You smile up at him before forcing yourself to walk on, a small part of you hopes he follows you.

“Goin’ for a walk, I’ll deal with you later,” you hear him as you maintain a casual pace, the sound of the river gurgling in your ears as you breathe in the cool night air.

It doesn’t take long for John to catch up to you, a gentle call of your name giving you pause as you wait for him to level with you.

“Hey,” he says with a sigh as he keeps a respectable distance, “Sorry about Johnny, he’s… full on.”

“Johnny?” You laugh, “You SAS boys share names these days?”

“Just a funny coincidence,” John says with a shrug as he matches your pace, “I am sorry though, truly.”

“Appreciate it,” you hum as you look ahead, not trusting yourself to make eye contact, “But I’m not fucking you tonight, I hope you know that.”

“Reasonable,” he chuckles, “Can I at least walk you home?”

“Sure,” you shrug as you feel the flutter of excitement deep in your chest.

“So, you local, or?” He asks as you see the amber glow of his cigar in your periphery, the taste still lingers rich and heavy on your tongue from earlier.

“Just visiting,” you say as you spot the red door up ahead, dread forming in the pit of your stomach as the inevitable end of the night looms over you. John doesn’t press further, and you feel a little dejected as you realise, he may have just been being nice.

 “Well this is me,” you say as you pause at a small wrought iron gate, “Walk me to the door?”

You bite your lip, it’s cheesy, but you’re grasping at any extra time you can here.

“Sure,” his lips quirk up around his cigar as he opens the gate, holding it for you as you slip past.

His presence behind you as you ascend the short flight of stairs has the hair on the back of your neck standing up.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say softly as you linger on the stoop, John hovering on the top step as he looks from your lips to your eyes in a brief flash. Blink and you would have missed it.

“Any time,” he says as he plucks the half-smoked cigar from his lips, “If you’re free tomorrow night, I’d like to take you for a proper drink.”

“Bold of you to think I’m interested,” you smirk as you take half a step towards him, “But yes, I’d like that.”

He lets out a heavy exhale and your cheeks burn with giddy anticipation as you realise he is interested after all. You blame the weed for making you double and triple guess him.

“Can I get your number?” You ask as you pull out your phone to see a message from Kate, you swipe the notification up as you pull up your keypad. John inputs his number and you play out the dance of calling the number to give him yours.

“Tomorrow night then,” John says as he pockets his phone, already turning to descend the steps back onto the riverside.

“Hey,” you call out, fingers circling his wrist as you pull him back to look at you, his deep blue eyes go wide as you fawn up at him, “Happy Birthday.”

You cup his jaw with your other hand and pull his lips against yours. You gasp at the way it feels, like electricity sparking between you as he places his free hand around the back of your neck, holding you to him as he holds his cigar to the side.

Your lips slot together like you’re made for one another and you have to muster every ounce of self-control not to deepen it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips before slipping from his grasp.

He watches, dumbfounded, as you disappear inside, his cheeks rosy and lips wet as he chuckles to himself. He whistles merrily to himself the whole way back to the pub, messaging you on a whim, wishing you a good night.

~*~

The next morning, John is making his way into the briefing room, distracted enough that he runs into a person he doesn’t immediately recognise.

“Sorry,” he grunts, “Didn’t see you there.”

You turn with a grin on your face as you recognise the sound of his voice.

“Morning Captain,” you say with a wink as you revel in the awestruck look on his face, “Hope you had a good night?”

Smoking a J with Simon Smoking with Soap Smoking with Gaz Smoking with Kate Price Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3

#john price #captain john price #captain price #captain johnathan price #task force 141 #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #price x reader #price x you #price x y/n #captain price x you #captain price cod #john price cod #captain john price x you #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mw3 #141 fluff series #Theywhowriteandknowthings fluff #weed #Tw weed #cw weed

[eepwriting]

please please please i am BEGGING for extremely dominant and possessive vessel

bonus points for any facefucking, choking, edging, restraining the reader. maybe a lil of him getting off on seeing them cry. but of degradation and a lot of praise and dirty talk thrown in for good measure and i will owe u my entire life (i just KNOW this man has a mouth on him in the bedroom and he will use it in more ways than one)

Mine To Use ✶ Vessel x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, oral (m receiving), choking, degradation, edging, restraining, fingering, dacryphilia, mean! vessel

Note - you’re really delivering with this ask anon and I’m here for it!!! Hope you enjoy :) thank you!! 🤍

!! mdi !!

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“I thought I told you to be ready for me when I got home.”

Vessels on you the second he walks through the door. He stalks up to you, grabbing ahold of your shirt collar and pulls you up to stand. You gasp in surprise as he roughly pulls you to your feet.

His hand closes around your throat, applying slight pressure. His thumb on your jaw turns your head to the side, his mouth moving in close to your ear. “What? Are you too dumb to follow instructions? Hm?” His teeth close over your earlobe.

You only let out a hum when his grip on your neck tightens, his other hand reaching behind you to roughly grope your ass. “Let’s see if this makes sense to you. On your knees. Now.” His hand pushes down on your neck.

You quickly drop to your knees, hands reaching up to massage his thighs. You so badly want to ask him why he’s in such a mood but you don’t want to push your luck by asking questions.

“Well look at that. You seem eager for my cock down your throat. Is that right?” His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. You gaze up at him and nod. You open your mouth when his thumb pushes down harder and he runs the pad over your bottom teeth. You stick your tongue out to lick over his finger and watch as his jaw clenches.

His other hand grabs one of your own, dragging it up, placing it over his belt buckle. Your hands move quickly, unfastening the buckle and pulling it off of him completely. Your fingers hook into his waistband, tugging his pants down his hips. His hard cock springs free and Vessel snickers when he sees you swallow, your eyes watching it bob in front of your face. He grabs the base of his cock with one hand, the back of your neck with the other, keeping your head still. “Open.” You open your mouth and stick out your tongue. “Hm, what a good little whore. Hands behind your back. I don’t want you touching me.”

You want to pout at his words, your hands itching to wrap around him but you reluctantly clasp your hands behind your back. He grips the back of your neck tighter and lets the tip of his cock tap on your tongue. He slides his length over tongue into your open mouth, his hand moving to the top of your head. You let your lips close around him, sliding further down his length. He lets out a deep breath above you when your lips and tongue slide up to meet his tip, your tongue swirling around the head.

He lets you lick and suck all over his cock for a short while, just enjoying the warm of your mouth. His hips eventually start thrusting to meet your mouth halfway, the grip he has on your hair tightening. “Shit. Just want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours. You gonna let me?” Both his hands grip the sides of your face, keeping your head still as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. “Of course you are. Good cock slut.” He grunts, pushing your head forward. You moan at his words, cut short when you feel his cock slip into your throat. He keeps it there, shallow thrusts from his hips. You gag around him, eyes squeezing shut, your hands itching to grip his thighs, craving something to hold on to.

He pulls his cock from your mouth completely, a cough coming from you at the sudden movement. Vessel breathily chuckles, grabs his cock and runs it along your cheek, your saliva covering your face. You moan, breathless and dazed as you look up at him, sticking your tongue out again. He huffs and smirks before he’s back to thrusting into your waiting mouth. He pushes his thumb in, along side his cock, stretching your mouth open wider. “You see this?” He pulls his thumb away to show you the saliva coating his finger before smearing it across your cheek. “Is this your dumb bunny brain leaking out of your mouth? You’ve gone stupid on my cock, huh? Just a drooly little hole that’s all mine to use.” He uses his leg to nudge your clenched thighs open, his foot pushing up against your core.

You greedily grind your hips down on his covered foot, moans freely crawling up from your throat. Your hands clench harder behind your back, hips moving quickly and impatiently. “You like being called stupid, don’t you? Look at you.” He pushes the top of his foot up into you harder. His hips still thrusting fast into your mouth, faltering occasionally. “It’s almost pathetic. That you like being treated this.” His voice comes out in growl, his hips moving even faster, if that’s possible. He groans at the sound and feel of you gagging around him, his hands roughly pulling your head to him.

He grunts, jaw clenched, his hips stutter. “Gonna cum down your throat. You’re gonna take it all.” You let a deep breath out through your nose as you feel him release at the back of your throat. You watch him throw his head back, the muscles on his chest and stomach flexing. You gag around him again, his cock, cum and all the extra spit in your mouth becoming too much. He just stands there for a moment, catching his breath before he hums and looks down at you, slowly pulling his cock from your mouth, saliva dripping from your lips. You finally swallow and take in a deep breath.

Your hips still grind and bounce on his foot as you look up at him with needy and pleading eyes. Whiny whimpers falling from your mouth. “Can I please touch?” You plead out, biting over your bottom lip.

Vessel just stares down at you, his hand smoothing over your hair. “Go on.” He nods down at you. Your hands fly out to grip at his leg, fingertips digging into his thigh, your hips grinding down harder. You’re practically hugging his leg and he lets you, eyes watching you, full of amusement. He registers the high pitched moans you let out and the way the rhythm of your hips get sloppy before he’s prying your fingers off his thigh and removing his foot out from under you. You whine out at the loss of contact, your release having only been mere seconds away.

He pulls you up to stand, his hand latching around your neck, squeezing, his mouth attaching to your swollen lips. You groan when his tongue licks into your mouth, gripping his forearm. He pushes you with the hand on your throat, walking you backwards towards the bedroom, his mouth moving to kiss and lick on the side of your face. He pushes you on the mattress when the back of your knees hit the bed, crawling over you, his hand and mouth resuming their previous positions.

His other hand finds its way under your shirt to grope and squeeze on your chest. He rests his thigh between your own, your hips almost immediately bucking up against it. He kisses over your chin and jaw, groaning. “So needy.” You chase your release again, hips moving quickly over his leg, your hand gripping the back of his neck.

He pulls away from you completely, pushing himself up to stand and you cry out, hips moving against nothing now. He leaves the room without saying anything. You think about trailing your hand down to play with yourself while he’s gone but you already know you’re in for a long night. If he caught you, that’d surely only make things worse for yourself. Vessel returns, his belt in hand. “Hands up for me.” You put your wrists together in front of yourself.

He loops the belt around your wrists, pulling your arms over your head, fastening the other end of the belt to the headboard with a crude knot. “Such a good listener, aren’t you?” He straddles your thighs, leaning down to kiss you with surprising softness and warmth. His thumb strokes over your neck and throat before his hand wraps around it again, this time only applying minimal pressure. You pull at your restraints, just wanting to hold his face to yours.

His other hand slips between your legs, palming over you through your bottoms. Moaning at the contact, you feel like you could finish right then and there. His mouth pulls away from yours to watch your face, a small smile on his lips. His hand speeds up over you, applying more pressure, only to let up. Slow speed and teasing, light touches. His hand around your neck matches the pattern he’s created. Squeezing harder as his hand speeds up, releasing pressure as his hand slows down. You can’t register how long he keeps this up. He never keeps his hand moving quickly long enough for your pleasure to peak, not letting you get to the edge, just leaving you simmering.

He eventually pulls both hands from you, moving his head down to kiss all over your chest and stomach. He spends what feels like ten minutes on each nipple. Slowly licking, sucking them into his mouth, his teeth grazing over them occasionally. You’re a heavy breathing mess at this point, wrists aching from pulling at the leather wrapped around them.

“You’re being so good for me. So patient.” He tells you once he settles between your legs, his hands rubbing along your thighs. “Just waiting to make a mess, aren’t you?” You look down at him and eagerly nod, bucking your hips up. “Please.”

He just shrugs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your bottoms. “We’ll see.” His fingers tug your bottoms down over your hips and thighs. He lets you kick them down the rest of your legs before settling down again. His eyes trail over you, his mouth attaching to your inner thigh. “Look at you. You must be aching. It almost looks painful.” His lips move along your leg, his fingers reaching out to run over you.

He pins your hips to the bed with his forearm, his mouth now sucking purple marks onto your thighs. Your back arches when you feel his fingers on your opening, massaging in circles. You whimper and you feel Vessel smile on your skin. Two of his fingers slowly push into you, inching in knuckle by knuckle until they’re fully buried in you. You breathe out in fast, shallow breaths, wrists tugging, your hips desperately trying to move.

He brings his fingers all the way out of you before repeating the process. Massage, push into you, pull out and repeat. You’re too dazed to plead or beg, just glad you might actually get your release. His fingers speed up and your vision blurs. He adds a third finger, thrusting in and out of you steadily. You’re right on edge in no time, clenching around his fingers.

It frustrates you that you’re not even surprised when he pulls his fingers from you. That doesn’t stop the long string of whines and moans that leave your mouth. He lets your pleasure die down, just kissing along your thighs, before his hand is on you again, repeating the same torture as before.

It’s after the third time when you feel the tears come. A frustrated, overworked sob comes from you and Vessel’s head snaps up to look at you. He watches you as the first tear slips down your face. You can barely see him through your cloudy vision, but don’t miss the way his jaw clenches as he watches you. You drop your head down on the mattress when you feel his teeth close over the inside of your thigh. “Look at me.” He taps your hip. You look down at him, face covered in tears, eyes red.

He groans when he sees your face, his fingers pushing into you again, not even giving you a minute before he’s roughly thrusting them in and out of you. “So pretty when you cry. You know that?” He breathes out. You can see his hips grinding down on the mattress and it sends a shockwave through you. “I think I could come cum again just looking at you.” His jaw closes over your thigh again. “Tell me why you’re crying.”

His fingers pause slightly and curl inside you before moving again. Your bottom lip quivers as you speak, “You won’t let me cum. I just want to cum.” More tears slip down your face, hips bucking up impatiently.

He groans again, resting his head against your thigh, eyes still watching you. His fingers speed up along with his hips that are still sloppily bucking against the bed. Another cry leaves you when you teeter on the edge again, sure that he’ll pull away from you, but he doesn’t. Your mouth opens silently, hips spasming and bucking, all the sounds that were caught in your throat come tumbling out as you clench hard around his fingers. Waves of overwhelming pleasure roll over you. It almost feels like too much. Your thighs tremble as Vessel’s fingers work you through your climax, letting up only when your foot pushes against his shoulder, trying to move away from his hand.

You lay there, trying to catch your breath, hips still twitching. Steady tears fall now, your mind and body overrun with overwhelming emotion. You feel Vessel over you now, his hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. You blink away enough tears to see his hand wrapped around himself, greedily pumping his cock. His thumb runs over your cheek, gathering the moisture there before dragging it down your neck. He has a look of total desperation on his face.

A gravely moan comes from him as he shuts his eyes, hanging his head. His hips falter before he cums again, ropes of it painting your stomach. His hips buck wildly into his hand as low groans fall from his mouth. Your mouth hangs open slightly as you watch him.

He opens his eyes to look at you, blissed out, his chest heaving. You want to reach out and touch him but you can’t. You impatiently tug on the belt.

His reaches above you to release your hands, his thumbs massaging over the slightly raw skin, his mouth coming down to leave small kisses on your wrists. His hand wipes over your cheeks before he bends down to leave a kiss on your forehead, then your nose and finally pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

He stumbles to stand before leaving the room. Returning shortly after with a wet rag and a bottle of water. You gladly accept the water, taking a long sip as he cleans you up. He lays next to you when he’s finished, hand coming up to brush away any remaining tears from your splotchy face before pulling you close to him.

You lay your head on his chest and close your eyes, feeling exhausted. “You feeling okay?” He rubs a hand down your back. You hum and nod your head, curling around him.

He’s sure you fall asleep the minute he pulls the covers over the two of you. He lays there listening to your heavy breathing for a long while before falling asleep himself.

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Anon, you went crazy with this ask. THANK YOU

Once again, the ending lowkey sucks but that’s okay.

Hope you enjoyed 🤍

K. Bye bye.

#sleep token #sleep token worship #sleep token fic #sleep token smut #sleep token x reader #sleep token vessel #vessel sleep token #vessel x reader

[ace-turned-confused]

shiftin' gear | part one

main masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist

pairing: mechanic!joel x f!reader series outline: a slacker of a boyfriend, no job, and now your car needs serious maintenance. heading to the mechanic’s, you’re just expecting him to rid you of your car troubles and move on — you’re certainly not expecting him to change your life chapter summary: your dad finally takes you to have your car fixed, where you meet joel miller — dangerously handsome and charming beyond words word count: 3,7k warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a dress, description of a rather useless boyfriend, strained father-daughter relationship, probably highly incorrect information about cars, inappropriate and smutty thoughts from both reader and joel but nothing explicit a/n: i watched one single fifteen minute video about changing brakes, so if anyone needs a bootleg mechanic you can hmu and i'll be there 🫡 endless hugs & head pats to @frannyzooey for not only all the help on this chapter, but all the kindness & encouragement overall 💜

Your car’s had warning lights on for probably a dangerous amount of time. You’d told your dad numerous times what was going on, not that it mattered all that much to him because the car still gets you from A to B and maybe if you drove a bit more delicately then these things wouldn’t need maintenance so often.

If you turn the music up loud enough it just drowns all that out – both the warnings and your dad’s constant berating. Coming home one night, you try one last time to ask him for help.

“Some jackass cut right across me on the freeway, I made sure he knew exactly what I thought of him though. Lucky I didn’t fly out through the windshield when I slammed on my brakes, considering there's more warnings on my dash than on a fuckin’ storm-season weather report.”

That seemed to do the trick, God, if only you’d done this a month ago. Suddenly he was scouring his search and call history for some mechanic he’d been to for his own car – “Miller’s Auto Repair”, though he doesn’t know who the Miller in question is, saying he dealt with some young boy named Eddie with greasy hair and stains on his shirt to match.

He found some time in his oh-so-busy schedule to go with you. Was he about to lecture you on your attitude? Definitely, but at least your car’s going to be fixed.

-

You park in the street behind your dad and haul yourself out of your car, walking up to meet him. Taking in the place, it looks decent enough – tools scattered around, a young guy working on a car on a lift, plastic chairs and a steel leg table off to one side. Maybe decent is a slight exaggeration, but it’s spacious and airy and doesn’t reek of sweat and toxic masculinity. You’re certainly out of place, the sun blazing down on you in your simple daisy-print dress and you feel slightly overdressed.

An older man comes out of a partitioned-off room, the drywall not quite reaching the rafters and sheet metal above. He’s wearing well-fitted and surprisingly chic black coveralls — a hint of skin peeking from behind the lapel, cuffs buttoned up below his elbows, belt around his hips and there are even pleats in the pant legs. And you thought you were overdressed. You mindlessly smooth out your dress, suddenly feeling like you haven’t made enough of an effort.

It’s not that you were expecting someone unattractive, but the man waltzing towards you is criminally handsome — if only you could find a boy your own age who looked like this. A part of you is actually jealous your dad found this place before you did.

He reaches out to both you and your father with a firm handshake, “Name’s Joel. What can I do for ya?”

“My daughter here’s been having some car troubles.” He gestures to you and you notice Joel gives you a once-over and nods.

Taking the silence as your queue to speak, you start listing everything gone wrong with your car. “First it told me the brake pads need changing, and that was about, what, six weeks ago now?” You glare at your dad, your tongue in your cheek and arms tight across your chest.

“Told you I’ve been busy, you know this.” He matches your look and you turn your attention back to Joel, rolling your eyes and he smirks ever so slightly.

“Aircon needs regassing, and the headlights don’t seem to want to go bright anymore.”

“Well, lights and aircon are quick fixes, can do both right now for you, not expensive. I’ll take a look at the brakes and see if we have sets here that’ll work and let you know about that.”

Your dad excuses himself when his phone starts ringing, leaving you alone with Joel.

“So why’d you bring your dad with? You seem capable enough to me.” He crosses his arms, tilting his head.

“I’d rather not have some macho mechanic clock me from a mile away, and end up getting handled for knowing fuck all about cars. No offence.” Joel smiles at your brash commentary, leaning closer towards you. “Wouldn’t do that to a pretty girl like you. Cute dress, those your favourite?”

You’re not quite sure what he’s talking about, to be honest — a fog came over your mind after ‘pretty girl’ fell from his lips and you stand there in silence, mouth hanging open in a daze.

He leans to the side and points to your chest, snapping you back to reality. “The daisies on your dress? That your favourite flower?”

“Oh! No, uh…” Your voice fades off, unsure of what to do about the heat creeping up your neck and into your ears.

 Joel just smirks at you. “You can bring in that car of yours onto the lift, sweetheart.”

You nod and start walking away, your dad ending his call and he’s already asking questions about the cost of all this work. Getting in your car again, you’re flustered. All this man has done is call you sweetheart and pretty once and it’s all you can think about. You pull your car up to the shop, lining up with the lift as best you can and roll down your window.

Joel leans into the open window with a slanted smile, voice low enough for just you to hear him, “Lined up perfectly there, just go slow and I’ll tell you when to stop,” and God if that doesn’t have your mind racing. You give him a weak smile and manoeuvre your car onto the lift, stopping when he raises his hand. Pulling the bonnet lever and climbing out, you move to stand with your dad again, stepping over discarded rags and dried oil stains.

Joel does what looks to you like a whole lot of fiddling and tapping and knocking of random car parts under the bonnet, and takes the light covers off to change the bulbs; he takes a wheel off and checks the brakes and you watch him the whole time. Skilled and calloused hands moving with ease, your mind wanders off to what else he’s good at with his hands. Crouching down to feel around a toolbox, his coveralls pull tight around his ass and thighs. That heat you felt a few minutes ago only getting worse just from watching him work, embarrassment washing over you – though not enough to look away.

Everything looks like it’s back in place and he lowers the lift, walking towards you and your dad. “Gas and bulbs are done, should be good as new now. Brakes you’re gonna have to come back for, though. Eddie just used the last of the pads and discs you need on that car there, but we can get 'em easily enough, should be here next week.” You nod at him, not sure if it’s easier to look him in the eye or avoid him altogether.

“And you can’t get them any sooner? Or, how long are these current ones gonna be safe for? I’m out of town again next week and–”

“It’s fine, next week is fine.” You put a hand out to cut your dad off and shake your head. You’re really not in the mood for his entitlement, and truthfully you’re looking forward to the chance to come here again without him.

“You gonna manage on your own?” he asks, his tone almost mocking and eyebrows raised.

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” you chirp back, voice curt and monotone.

“You sure?” Of course, he wasn’t going to believe you were capable.

“I’ll get Jake to come with me. It’s fine. Really.”

Right, Jake – your boyfriend. Someone you should’ve been thinking of a long time ago, when instead you were all but undressing Joel with your eyes, imagining the nice things he’d do for you, with you, to you.

You and Jake have been together just over a year now, slept together a handful of times, and all around he’s a decent guy. You met while you both were in training and were given the same placements for industry experience. He’s never done anything inherently bad to you, but lately, you’ve found yourself putting more and more distance between you — subconsciously initially, but now it feels more like a chore to spend time with him.

He’s been sweet and kind to you from the start, but it would be nice to have him make an effort every so often, brag about you, show you off. His grand plan for celebrating your anniversary was taking you out for lunch and calling it a day; if he visits while your dad’s around, the two of them spend more time talking than you do. It’s been about two months since he fucked you, if you could even call it that, and you’re tired of either faking an orgasm or reassuring him it’s fine you never came when you forget to put on the act at all.

You can’t picture someone like Joel giving you such mediocre treatment and being satisfied with that, living life so blissfully unaware.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your fog and you notice your dad’s already walked out.

“See you then,” and he retreats with a tilt of his head and a wink.

Fuck it’s going to be a long week.

-

Joel already texted your dad three days ago to say you could come in, and you’ve been oddly nervous about it, your mind racing: what’s gonna be the quietest time to go, I wonder if Joel will be too busy with another job, I should make sure I’m not wearing the same dress again. You even made sure you washed your hair the night before in preparation, scolding yourself the whole time – he’s some random guy fixing your car, not to mention you do have a boyfriend.

Eddie’s nowhere to be seen, Joel’s wearing those same coveralls and there’s music playing from a worktop speaker.

“Afternoon, princess,” he holds your door open, eyes following you across the room, just the same as the week before. “Thought you were bringing a friend – what was his name?”

Fingers toying with the hem of your top, you only hope you made the right decision coming here alone. You’re not worried about something that Joel would say or do, no, but worried about something you yourself might. You never were good at hiding your feelings; you pray he can’t see through you.

“Oh, Jake?” You could keep it a secret and enjoy Joel’s attention a while longer but weighing up your options, maybe it’s better to just be honest with him. “He’s my boyfriend. He was uh, busy… today. So, just me.” He doesn’t need to know you never even asked Jake to accompany you to begin with.

“Is it cool if I stay while you work?” you ask timidly. “I can get a ride home though, if you’d prefer.”

“It’s no trouble, here.” He pulls a stool towards you, wiping it off with a smile. Joel gets to work on your car and it’s like a show, just for you. Definitely the right choice to come alone, you smile to yourself.

“So this boyfriend of yours, what’s he like?” he shouts out from the far side of your car and your smile drops.

“Oh, uh… he’s nice.” He is nice, but you can’t be bothered to think of anything worthwhile to say about him.

Joel rounds your car to stop and look at you. “Sounds to me like you don’t want ‘nice’.” His eyes trail up and down your figure and you gawk at his remark. Okay, maybe he actually can see right through you.

“Well, my dad really likes him. Says it’s good to have someone to ground you, or whatever.” Joel simply nods in response and turns his attention back to your car.

You take the opportunity to really take him in this time, with no dad around as a source of shame. Thick curls that you would love to run your hands through, sculpted nose, well-trimmed moustache, grey and patchy scruff for a beard, wide back and broad shoulders and firm chest and—

God, you need to think of something else before you get carried away. Again. You look around the room to refocus on something more appropriate, taking in all the arbitrary decor. Dog-eared posters of old rock bands, exposed bulbs dotted between fluorescent lights, a chain of mini chequered flags strung up along the wall.

You risk another look at Joel and see he’s taken two wheels off already, doing more twisting and turning of car parts you never even knew were there in the first place.

“What’s that?”

He looks to you over his shoulder, coveralls pulling tight again over his arms and back.

“What, this? Called a calliper. Holds the brake pads that squeeze against the disc, stopping the car.” You purse your lips, nodding slowly and Joel huffs out a laugh, facing away again. “Got any siblings that need car part lessons?” He continues, “Or better yet, maybe they can teach you instead.”

“Nope, just me. What about you? Any other Millers gracing the town?” You see him shake his head and he chuckles to himself. 

“Got a brother, Tommy. He’s in construction. I worked with him a while back — much prefer this, though. What’s a girl like you do? Working your dream job?”

‘I’m uh, in between jobs, actually. I’m a chef — was a chef.” You look down to your lap, picking your nails. “I quit. Place was full of sexist dickheads. They suggested I put myself forward for promotion, then gave it to some egotistical asshole with both less experience and qualification. So I told them exactly where they could shove their promotion and never went back.”

You sigh and look up and see Joel’s already watching you, a faint smile on his face almost like he’s proud of you for standing your ground. His eyes are a mix of sympathy and understanding — not something you’re often on the receiving end of.

“I know I kinda fucked myself quitting like that, but I was tired of constantly being treated like shit. And not a fuck was I gonna stick around and take orders from a guy like that.” You crack a smile and Joel matches it.

“You keepin’ yourself busy?”

“Trying to figure out what’s next. Not sure if maybe I should do some more training somewhere, expand my skill set y’know, or just find another job. Not very easy with my dad breathing down my neck.” Joel nods, and his keen attention spurs you on. He’s one of few people who have actually listened to you about all this without giving you his own unwanted opinion or unsolicited advice.

“Only real silver lining is having time to pick up some old hobbies again. And talking to you, I guess.” Joel gives you a skew grin and you smile bashfully, lowering your gaze as you feel your cheeks redden.

“So what do you get up to when you’re not talkin’ to me, then?”

“Bits and pieces here and there. It’s been nice to get back into piano again.”

“Keen musician, are you? Play guitar myself, do a lot of the stuff that’s been playing here.”

The mental image of Joel playing guitar is not good for keeping your mind out of the gutter, and you're soon thinking about what one hand looks like plucking away at the strings, the other in a firm grip around the neck. One hand plucking away at you, the other in a firm grip around your neck. You stop yourself before that runs rampant in your mind, focusing on the song playing in the background.

“Wait, can you play In The Gallery?” You lean forward, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, a grin spreading across your face in shock and amazement.

“You know this?” Joel points off in no direction, giving you the same bewildered look, and your expression changes from that of awe to insult.

“Of course I do, it’s Dire Straits. Look, I may know jack shit about cars but I do know other things. Do you sing, too?”

He shifts his weight to one leg, cocking his head to the side. “Do you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You flash a smile and he faces away again.

Joel’s bolted the front wheels back and is busy removing the rear ones when a phone starts ringing above the music.

“Hands a little full here. Can you answer? It’s just on the bench there.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you stand and make your way to find it. Sliding to answer, you hold the phone to one ear and press a finger in the other to drown out the noise, slinking off towards Joel’s office.

-

Joel watches as you walk into his office, phone pressed into your ear. He’s been thinking about you since you arrived with your dad last week, and he’s glad to spend some time hearing what you have to say. And, you know, getting to really look at you without your dad around. 

He thought you looked beautiful in that dress last week — thought what you’d look like out in public with him in that same dress, with his jacket over your shoulders as the air grows cold, you writhing underneath him behind closed doors and waking up in his shirt next to him the following morning. He scolded himself when you drove off last week for allowing himself that indulgence, that twisted fantasy about a girl as young as you — but seeing how you are today, maybe he was right all along.

You’ve been staring at him since you parked, and the way you bite your bottom lip and openly ogle at him when you think he doesn’t notice tells him you’re thinking about the same things, too. 

You seemed shy, scared even, when you first stood in front of him, overshadowed by your father and his clear frustration with you. It seems you have no issue with pushing him, but he can see in the way you stand, closed off, and hear the unease in your constant defence that maybe this eats away at you more than you like to admit. He’s spent a mere two hours with you so far, and you shine when you’re free to say whatever you want, be whoever you want.

Your boyfriend Jake, however — he might be a challenge. Your smile faded when he was mentioned, saying your father’s fond of him, that he’s nice. Maybe you haven’t been together all that long, or on the contrary, been together too long, but if ‘nice’ is his most redeeming quality… He took your indifference and curt response as a sign to not push any further for now, but that boy, whoever he is, clearly doesn’t know how to keep a girl like you happy.

He’s considering fabricating some story of something else that needs repairs on your car just so you’d have a reason to come back, even if under false pretence. You probably would believe him given the evident gaps in your knowledge, but the risk of breaking your trust might not be worth it. He should keep his distance.

He focuses on the task at hand again and finds himself paying extra attention to his work. You won’t recognise good handiwork, but he knows you’ll be excited about having a fully functional car again. It’s not much, but seeing that winning smile spread across your face will be enough for him.

-

Much like Joel himself, it seems, his office is pleasantly well-kept, bar a few too many half-empty coffee mugs and stray papers littering the desk. A tatty plaid-print couch against the back wall, a mini fridge tucked next to the desk, a leather jacket hung over his chair. Blinds drawn and with no sign of Joel approaching, you trace your fingers across the collar, wondering what it would feel like hanging over your own shoulders, arms drowning in the too-long sleeves and you drowning in him.

You leave his office to walk back towards him and Joel raises his eyebrows questioningly, wiping his hands off on a rag. “So?”

“Woman named Hazel? She didn’t leave much of a message, she just asked if you could call her back. Said you’d have her number.” You hand the phone to him, his hands cool compared to the heat burning under your skin.

“Ah, guess I should,” he mumbles, a hand coming up to scratch the nape of his neck.

“Hm, so who’s Hazel? Is she pretty?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, a cheeky grin on your face.

Joel scoffs a laugh. “Nobody you need to worry about, not my type.” You feel an odd sense of assurance at his admission. “Well, everything’s done, you’re good to go. Your dad paid last week already.”

“And what about all the hard work you put into this? Surely I owe you something for that?”

“You spendin’ the afternoon was payment enough.” He smiles at you, eyes softening. “I’ll see ya round, sweetheart. Come by any time, I mean it. And hey, if you ever need a change of scenery, you’re welcome to come answer the phone for me.”

You’re not entirely sure if he’s seriously offering you a job or just passing it off as banter. It would get you out of the house and put a bit of extra cash in your pockets; you’d get to spend days on end around Joel, watch him work, and maybe get a glimpse into who he is beyond the charming mechanic you know so far. 

It would certainly test your resolve being so close to him. You consider all the afternoons that may look like the one you’ve just had — easy work, no Eddie or other customers around, just you and Joel and the tension between you. You suppose you’d have to find something to do to pass the time on days like these… Then again, do you really want to risk having him see you as just the girl who answers the phone?

Maybe you can fake something, an excuse to bring you back here to see him again. The ruse wouldn’t last long, not when Joel takes one look at the car and sees clear as day there’s nothing wrong, but you can pin it all on inexperience. Either way, you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction

[rotten1angel]

it would be amazing if you wrote about geto being a dad tbh. like i know he has the twins but i feel like i need to see him with a baby !!!

I LOVE U FOR REQUESTING DAD!SUGU !!!!

anyways im a slut for suguru's boobs so they make an appearance but no nsfw

anyways hope u enjoy my lil dad!sugu blurb

the late afternoon sunlight peeking through the curtains wakes you up from your much-needed nap. you blink wearily before rising, just as panic sets into your system. you had fallen asleep while watching your baby, hanako. you look into her playpen before swiftly realizing she wasn’t there. you quickly get to your feet, beginning to pace as you wrack your brain. the girls had gone to the mall and likely we’re still there, given it was only 5pm. you maniacally rifle through the living room, moving through the kitchen and then down the hallway. your socked feet pad rapidly on the wooden floors. your heartbeat continued to accelerate the longer you went without seeing the small head of black hair. You rubbed your eye with the heel of your palm as you went through each bedroom, making sure not to peek at anything personal in mimiko and nanako’s rooms. You get to the third room, hanako’s nursery, which, yes, you probably should have checked first, but hey! It was your first time having a baby and not knowing where she was, logic flew out the window the moment you didn't see her.

you open the cracked door and your heart skips a beat at the sight before finally calming down from your search. in the rocking chair next to hanako’s crib was suguru, rocking gently back and forth, shirt off (yum!), and little hanako sleeping peacefully against his soft pecs. one of your hands rested over your heart as you heaved a sigh of relief at the sight. suguru’s mouth quirks up at your disheveled state. 

“i didn’t know you were home,” you say, your tone only slightly above a whisper as to not wake hanako. “and i didn’t know where hanako had gone.”

suguru nods gently before getting up from the rocking chair. he makes sure to cradle hanako close to his chest as he does so before gently laying her down in her crib and putting her baby blanket over her. he pads across the room to where you stood by the door, his hands coming up to rest at your waist. 

“m'sorry to worry you, mama,” he whispers into your hair as he presses a kiss to your hairline, you all but melt into him as he gently leads you out of the nursery before shutting the door behind the two of you.  

“was she okay when you got here? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep but her show was playing and i just drifted off and—”

“it’s okay.” your husband soothes, cutting you off effectively as his hand rubbing small circles onto your back, “hanako was just fine, she was just watching her show, but she was starting to drift off so i took her to the nursery and did some skin-on-skin contact.” 

you hum a sound of acknowledgement as suguru runs his hands through your hair now, gently, just to get the stray bits in order. “and there’s no need to apologize either, you spend all day taking care of our child, i’m not going to berate you for being tired, my love.” 

you melt against the man, letting his heat radiate into your bones before you hear the front door opening and the unmistakable chatter of mimiko and nanako. you back away from suguru, not before he plants a soft kiss on your lips, to go and greet them. suguru follows you into the living room, and his heart soars as he sees you listening to nanako as she shows you all what her and mimiko got at the mall, and as you glance over at him, your face still a bit flushed from your nap, and a wide grin decorating your face, smiling softly back is all he can think to do.

#elle writes ! #✩ // blurbs #im feral for dad!sugu #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #getou suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu geto #elle goes insane

[ecl1pt1csol4rs]

Sweet Girl > M.S.

Matt Sturniolo x Female Reader

warnings: swearing, fluff, cuddling, pet names

summary: Matt was having a hard day and everything was making him mad. he hadn't seen or talked to you in a few days since you both were busy. he's been in a constant mood. he was filming a car video and his Mattitude was showing. he just missed his girlfriend.

authors note: this whole story is fictional! please keep in mind! Use of Y/n. sorry it's short. FIRST POST AND FIRST FANFIC (no picture cause its difficult on laptop)

Matts POV:

The timer went off to restart to camera. I take a deep breath, everything was annoying me lately. "dude you cant catch a goddamn break!" Nick says. Nick grabs the camera and resets it, then putting it back on the dashboard. I get out of the car to make sure everything is in view. Chris and Nick were talking, I didn't care. I pull out my phone

my lock screen was my perfect girlfriend. her face made me smile. I pull up our messages.

You

I miss you, sweet girl.

delivered

I sigh. I grab my sweater from the back and put it on. the camera was already recording. I sit back in the drivers seat, just to look at Chris, and for him to burp in my fucking face. I start to climb out of the car, Nick tries to grab me, trying to pull me back in. "don't fucking touch me." I say, I slam the door shut, I open the back door.

"do you wanna swap seats?" Nick asks, laughing with Chris. instead, I grab him by his shirt sleeve and yank him out of the car. I then push him in the drivers seat, accidentally hitting his head. "sorry." I mumble, but not loud enough for the camera to catch it. I sit in the front seat.

I feel a buzz in my pocket. I pull out my phone. I smile at the message.

My Darling

I miss you too, Matty. you wanna come over?

You

I'm filming rn, but I'd love to after.

My Darling

ofc, baby. see you later, I love you.

You

I love you too.

Read at 12:53 am

"CAN YOU STOP BURPING!" Nick yells. "you remind me- you know what Chris reminds me of? and you'll agree-" I cut him off. "I've retired from that seat from here on out for the rest of our YouTube career. I will-" I say, which is a lie but I'm just so fucking frustrated right now. Chris interrupts me, as usual.

"hereby, hereby, what do you want, a fucking crown and a big staff? shut your mouth" "I hate it up here. I hate it up here!" Nick states. "never, ever in my life will I sit there ever again." I lie.

Time Skip (after filming)

I start driving again, "I'm dropping you guys off, I'm sleeping at Y/n's tonight." I say, keeping my eyes on the road. "Matt, dude, im sorry, man. I love you." Chris says, "mhm, love you too." Chris plays some music as we sit in the car, waiting to get home.

Y/n's POV:

I yawn, sitting up in my bed. my room was dark, making me even more tired than I already was. I was trying to stay up, wanting to see Matt. I heard the door open and close, then someone running over to my room. Matt peaks into my room. then walks in. "did you stay up for me, sweet girl?" he asks, I nod.

he sits on the edge of my bed, I scoot over to sit next to him. we look into each others eyes for a moment, before he speaks. "you could've fallen asleep, you know? I wouldn't have minded." Matt says in a soft, quiet tone. "I know, but I wanted to see you." I say, tiredly. "C'mon." Matt says as he moves so he's laying down, he opens his arms so I can lay in them.

I lay my head on his chest, cuddling in to him. "I'm sorry if you wanted to talk, I know how Chris and Nick can be." I mumble. "its okay, darling. your presence is enough anyways" he whispers, kissing the top of my head.

my eyes flutter close, I fall asleep to Matts heartbeat, it was calm, and steady.

#matt sturniolo #fanfic #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #mattitude #cuddling #sweet girl #car video #y/n #female reader

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 21

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Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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AIRIELLEJONES

liked by uceyjucey , trinity_fatu and 193,000 others

AirielleJones: Pretty Girl, Pretty Tempting 🖤

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uceyjucey: damn

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August 21st 2021 - Summerslam

Las Vegas, NV

“So you’re coming to the twins' party tonight?” 

“Absolutely not.” Airielle immediately answered with an eye roll, as the two of them sat backstage watching Josh and Jon’s match against the Mysterio’s. “I will give Jon his gift tho, before my flight back to Pensacola.” 

“What about Josh?” 

“What about him?” Airielle responded back, glaring at Trinity, who had a smirk on her face. 

“Sis, we got the plane tickets together.” Again, Airielle rolled her eyes. 

“Well you and Jon can take Jayla and Jaden, since y’all now have two extra tickets.” Airielle said, pulling the envelope out of her bag and handing it to Trinity. 

“Airielle come-on now..” 

“Or You can give it to Josh and he can give the other ticket to Yara or whatever, I don’t care.”  Trinity gave Airielle a look. “I do not care.” She said standing up from her seat. 

“No” Trinity whined as Airielle started to walk away. “Don’t leave me!”  Airielle stuck her tongue out and continued on her way. She was relieved to finally have the plane tickets out of her possession. They were causing way more anxiety than necessary.

She and Trinity had decided to plan their partners (at the time) birthday together and since Josh had shown his whole ass for her birthday she thought it was only right for her to do the same. Josh had mentioned how he wanted to go to Turks & Caicos. She had splurged on the best private villa for her and Josh to stay. Even though they were supposed to be with Trin & Jon the couples had their own private entry to the villa and would only have to see each other when they wanted to. 

Airielle was so deep in her thought she didn’t see Angel Garza as he stood in front of her, trying to get her attention. She let out a “oof” as they collided. 

“Mierda!” He said as he grabbed his arms to steady her so she wouldn’t topple over in her heels. “Are you okay?” He asked her and she nodded. 

. “Yes I'm fine Angel. I should watch where I'm going.” She said and he laughed.  

“You know princesa,” Angel started, as he pulled her closer to him. “I’ve seen movies like this.” She furrowed her eyebrows at him. 

“Movies? What are you talking about?” 

“Cómo se dice uh.. meet-cute.” 

“A meet-cute?”  

“Yeah, you know, boy and girl run into each other, girl falls in love boy- “ 

“Boy gets his ass whopped if he don’t get the fuck on.” Josh cut him off and he slid in between Angel and Airielle mean muggin’ the hell outta Angel. 

“Oh my god” Airielle muttered, slapping her hand on her forehead. 

“Get the fuck on.” Josh said again after Angel didn’t move. It was then Airielle noticed the camera crew that had their cameras trained on the three of them and she cursed. She forgot the Total Divas crew were following the cast around today. 

“Josh, stop.” She whispered, gripping the back of his shirt when he went to advance towards Angel. “It’s cameras filming you.”  Angel smirked at Josh, waived at Airielle and continued on his way.  

“Wassup man? I’ve been calling you for days.” Airielle rolled her eyes. 

“We have nothing to talk about.” She stated, crossing her arms over her chest and cutting her eyes over to the camera crew, who were still recording them. 

“You said you weren’t mad at me.”  Josh said, as he stepped in front of her when she tried to walk around him. 

“Yeah, well I lied, Joshua. I’m pissed off and I just want to be left alone.” 

“So why didn’t you answer the phone so we could talk about it Airielle? Oh my god She thought as she looked over to the camera crew again, knowing they were definitely going to use this footage. 

“Because there is nothing to talk about.” She huffed out. 

“Us. We can talk about us.” 

“There is no us anymore Joshua.” He scoffed. 

“And whose fault is that? We were rocking strong Rih. I ask you to move in with me and you do a whole 360. Probably could’ve been engaged by now and shit.” 

“That's the problem.” She hissed, pushing him away from her. “You wanna move way to fuckin fast Josh. 5 months and you wanted to move in together! Is that not crazy as hell?” 

“You so damn selfish,” He stated. “It’s always about how you feel or what you think. What about me? Do you have any idea of how much it hurt me to see you with Raymond and then to catch you kissing him after you said y’all weren't together.” 

Airielle felt like shit now. Even though she shouldn’t because she left Raymond alone until she saw Josh with Yara.  

“Yo, y’all good?” Josh and Airielle broke their staring contest to look over at Jon and Trin who had just walked up on them. 

“I have to go.” Airielle muttered as she walked away from them, Josh tried to follow her but Jon stopped him. 

“She always running.”  She heard Josh tell Jon and Trin before she ducked into an empty room in the arena. She let out a shaky breath and leaded against the door. She knew she had fucked up by kissing Raymond but Josh had done the unthinkable…the unforgivable by sleeping with Yara. 

Trinity 💚: pleaseeeeeeeee  Trinity 💚: im begging on my hands and knees here! To Trinity 💚: lemme see. 

Airielle let out a laugh as her phone started ringing with a facetime call. She answered and started laughing harder at what she saw. 

Jon and Trinity had their cheeks pressed together and they both were pouting at the phone. “Please” They both begged at the same time. 

“I don’t wanna be the only bad bitch here ,Airielle.”  Airielle let out a giggle and rolled her eyes. 

“Look at how you got my lil bro’” Jon said as he snatched the phone out of Trin’s hands and flipped the camera to show a dejected looking Josh. “Lil Uce keep looking towards the door to see if you comin’”  Airielle couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip as she took him in. He was looking real good, she almost got up to put some clothes on - NO! Her inner voice yelled at her. He had sex with Yara, fuck him! 

“He could be looking for Yara.” Airielle mumbled, and she heard Jon suck his teeth before he flipped the camera back to himself. 

“Sis be forreal.” Jon slurred. “Yara is here and before you say anything, Uce ain’t paying her no mind. I mean zero.” She let out another laugh when Trinity held up the hand gesture for zero behind Jon’s head. “So getcho’ ass down here and come cheer my brother up!” 

“ No you did not!” She heard Jon yell out as she walked into their section. She watched Josh do a double take, his jaw dropping open as he took in her outfit. 

“Happy Birthday!” Airielle said as she handed Jon a gift bag. Josh looked like he expected a gift too, but when she walked past him and towards Trinity and Mercedes, he sunk back down into his seat. 

“Yay!” Trinity and Mercedes cheered, pulling Airielle into a hug. “Girl you look hot as hell!” 

“I said cheer him up, not give him a heart attack.” Jon giggled. 

“Y’all drunk as hell, lemme catch up!”  Jon yelled out drink orders and Airielle made her way to the bar to order them. 

“First of all, do you see what she’s wearing?” Josh heard Yara ask but like Jon said, he was paying her no mind. “Her whole ass is out!”  Josh gritted his teeth as he watched Airielle lean on the bar top to point at something and he stood up, ignoring Yara calling his name and marched over to Airielle. 

“Damn,” Her whistled lowly as he walked closer to her, no shame in his game as he eyed her body. “You look good.” He whispered into her ear as he boxed her in between the bar and his body, while he flagged down the bartender for her.  “You know it’s my birthday too. Where my present at?”  

Airielle snorted but didn’t turn around to face him. “Don’t you got a girlfriend to go be with or something. Why you over here bothering me?”  She thanked the bartender but before she could grab the tray of drinks, Josh grabbed it and with his other hand he laced his fingers with hers, leading her back over to the section. 

Yara watched with narrowed eyes as Josh sat down next to Airielle. He had been ignoring her all night and Yara was about to put a stop to it. Josh was her man now.  

“Joshy, come on, let's dance.” Airielle snorted and choked on her drink at Yara’s nickname for Josh. She cut her eyes over at Josh who had his eyes closed and was shaking his head. That’s exactly what he gets. Airielle thought just as Thot Shit by Megan Thee Stallion started blasting through the club. 

“This my jam y’all!” Trinity yelled, grabbing Airielle and Mercedes hands and pulling them towards the dance floor.  Josh was in a trance as he watched Airielle out on the dance floor. Mesmerized by the way she moved her body to the beat. He had to get his girl back ASAP. 

Four songs and three more shots later Airielle pulled herself away from the dancefloor to rush towards the bathroom. As she was coming out she bumped into Josh who was obviously waiting for her as he leaned  against the wall. 

 “Where ya little girlfriend at?” She asked, looking around.  He chuckled and walked closer to her. 

“I’m looking at her.”  Airielle rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You wore this for me?” He asked as he dragged his eyes, slowing up her body. 

“Josh please.” She said as she rolled her eyes again and tried to walk around him but he stepped in front of her, and started to slowly back her into the wall. He slowly leaned into her and watched how she let out a gasp at how close he was getting. 

Before she could say anything, their lips connected. She felt him moan into her mouth and she tilted her head to be able to kiss him back.   his hands  now gripping her hips while her arms wrapped around his neck. His tongue exploring the inside of her mouth. He broke the kiss and slid his hands to rest just above her ass. He rested his forehead against hers 

“I’m sorry alright, I was hurt and angry and I should've never took it there with Yara. I don’t want us to be like this anymore. I want you. Only you.”

Authors Note: Sorry this took so long. I wanted it to be perfect for yall. 🫶🏽 Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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@harmshake @paigereeder @li-da-savage @nbanenefrmdao @alyyaanna

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#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #main event jey uso #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #jey uso fanfic #jey uso fanfiction #wwe x fem reader #wwe x oc #wwe x black oc #black oc #wwe fanfiction

[myscenic]

Pairing: haunted house actor!park jisung x male!reader

Genre: fluff, strangers to ??

Warnings: bad lol

Word Count: 1.6k+

Synopsis: y/n's friends wanted y/n to rest and stop studying so they took y/n to a haunted house. y/n carelessly got lost in the haunted house alone, he was very afraid of monsters and ghosts, so he didn't know what to do.

☠ Note: it's 2am and i can't sleep so i quickly wrote this to kill time, and its for something for yall to read while you wait for jeno's fic :) this is really short like a drabble, the plot is fast and not that detailed.

y/n sighed as he looked over his notes one more time. finals were coming up and he wanted to make sure he was as prepared as possible. his friends often told him he studied too much, but school was important to him.

there was a knock at his door, pulling him from his thoughts. "come in," he called. the door burst open to reveal jaemin, mark, and haechan with wide grins on their faces. "we're taking you out today!" jaemin declared.

y/n raised an eyebrow. "out? i need to study-"

"nope, you study wayyyy too much!" haechan cut him off. "we're going to break you out of your bubble for a bit of fun."

"fun? what did you have in mind?" y/n asked warily. he trusted his friends but their ideas of fun rarely aligned with quiet studying.

mark smiled mischievously. "we're going to the haunted house at the amusement park!"

y/n blanched. "the haunted house? but it's supposed to be super scary..." he had never been a big fan of anything too frightening.

"exactly, that's why you need a break. it'll be a good way to take your mind off school for a while." jaemin gave him puppy dog eyes, knowing he'd have a hard time refusing.

y/n hesitated but eventually caved with a sigh. "alright fine, but if i have nightmares i’m blaming you guys." they whooped in victory, pulling him up from his desk.

as they walked up to the entrance of the haunted house, y/n gripped jaemin's shirt so tightly his knuckles turned white. jaemin laughed and pried y/n's fingers away gently.

as they drove to the haunted house, y/n felt his nervousness grow. what if it was too scary? he wasn't really one for jump scares. but he knew his friends meant well, thinking a change of pace could do him some good.

"relax, it's just people dressed up. none of it is real, you know that," jaemin reassured him. mark rolled his eyes fondly. "and you call yourself a man of science, not believing in ghosts."

they made their way deeper into the haunted house, the rooms getting creepier with each turn. y/n was practically clinging to jaemin by this point, jumping at every small sound.

y/n took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "believing and not being scared are two different things. let's just get this over with." haechan cackled and slapped him on the back. "c'mon let's go!"

around the next corner, a costumed actor with a chainsaw came roaring towards them. y/n screamed and scrambled behind jaemin, clutching his shirt so tight he worried it might tear. even jaemin seemed a bit startled by this one.

the actor chased them down the hallway for a bit, the chainsaw revving loudly, before disappearing around another corner with an evil laugh. y/n's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest.

"you okay?" jaemin asked with a sympathetic smile, prying y/n's fingers loose again. he took a few deep breaths to calm down. "y-yeah, let's keep going."

they proceeded into a dark maze area next. eerie lighting and sound effects abounded as they tried to find their way through. but every twist and turn seemed to reveal another ghost or monster jumping out at them from the shadows.

the group continued cautiously making their way through the dark maze-like halls of the haunted house. y/n kept as close to jaemin as possible, not wanting to get separated from the others.

as they turned a corner, a hideous monster creature suddenly dropped down right in front of them from above with a roar. y/n let out a blood curdling scream and instinctively bolted away in fear, losing sight of his friends in the dim lighting.

"hey y/n, wait!" mark shouted after him but it was too late. panicked, y/n ran blindly down some twisting passageways, having no idea where he was going in the disorienting maze like structure.

his heart was racing a million miles an hour as he whipped his head around frantically, searching desperately for any sign of his friends or an exit. but there was nothing but darkness in every direction.

"mark? jaemin? haechan??" he called out, his voice shaking with terror. only his echo answered back mockingly. he began hyperventilating, the utter isolation and uncertainty spiking his fear to an all time high.

y/n stumbled blindly through the darkness, whimpering in terror as every small creak or groan threatened to stop his heart. he just wanted out, more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

how could he have let himself get separated? what if he was trapped in here forever, completely alone in the endless maze of horrors? y/n gripped his hair tightly, feeling completely overwhelmed with panic and dread.

rounding another corner, a ghostly figure suddenly phased right through the wall with an eerie wail. y/n shrieked and fell backwards in terror, scrambling backwards until his back hit a solid surface. shaking violently, he curled up into a ball and broke down sobbing.

the actor paused, taken aback by such an extreme reaction. most people just jumped or screamed, not full on crying. feeling bad, they knelt down and gently touched y/n's shoulder. "h-hey, it's okay, it's not real."

y/n flinched at the touch, eyes squeezed shut. slowly opening them, he was met with a concerned face framed by fluffy black hair, mask in hand. "you're really scared, huh? i'm jisung, i work here. what's your name?"

as jisung led y/n through the remaining haunted areas, every sound and movement had y/n grasping onto jisung's hand even tighter. jisung gave it a reassuring squeeze. "it's okay, i've got you. just stay close to me."

trying to catch his breath, y/n shakily replied "y-y/n...i g-got separated from m-my friends..." jisung nodded in understanding. "well don't worry, we'll get you out of here. deep breaths, you're safe now."

they turned a corner and came face to face with a gruesome corpse prop. y/n yelped and buried his face against jisung's arm with a sob. jisung wrapped an arm comfortingly around his shoulders. "shh, it's okay. i'm right here with you."

he began gently rubbing y/n's arm in soothing strokes. "take some deep breaths. you're safe with me, i promise." his calming voice and tender touch slowly helped y/n's erratic breathing start to steady.

emerging from the darkness of the haunted house, y/n could finally see jisung clearly in the moonlight without his mask. and his breath caught in his throat - jisung was stunning, the most gorgeous face he had ever laid eyes on. plush pink lips, sparkling eyes, soft black hair that looked so touchable...y/n thought he must be dreaming to encounter an angel like this.

as they walked, jisung continued holding y/n protectively against his side, occasionally whispering gentle reassurances. the fear began to melt away under jisung's caring attentions. by the end, y/n was still alert but no longer trembling violently.

"there, see? we made it through," jisung smiled as they exited. the ordeal had left y/n exhausted but also strangely comforted by this new presence. he felt a connection forming with the black haired boy who had saved him from his panic.

just then, jisung turned to him with a smile, opening his mouth to speak. but before he could get a word out, a familiar voice rang out: "y/n!!"

he turned to see jaemin, mark and haechan running towards them, relief and worry on their faces. "you made it out!" jaemin exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. "we were so scared when you took off like that."

y/n hugged them back, grateful but also a bit disappointed that the moment with jisung was interrupted. he glanced back to see the black haired boy watching with a shy smile, hands in his pockets.

"i, uh, actually ran into a person in there. he helped me find my way out, his name's jisung," y/n admitted sheepishly as his friends finally released him. jaemin turned to jisung with a grin. "thanks so much for saving our scaredy cat friend here!"

a light blush colored jisung's cheeks at the praise. y/n couldn't help but gaze at him softly, already smitten by this unexpected savior and his kindness.

y/n turned back to jisung, mustering up a shy smile of his own. "thank you...really, for everything. i don't know what i would've done without you in there," he said gratefully.

jisung rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pinking up again. "it was no problem, really. i'm just glad you're feeling better." y/n was struck again by how kind and beautiful his savior's face was.

an idea came to him then. "at least let me treat you to dinner, to say thank you properly." jisung hesitated, not wanting to impose. but y/n insisted sweetly, "please? i’d really like to."

those soft brown eyes were impossible to say no to. jisung laughed softly. "alright." they shared a smile, something blossoming between them in that moment.

y/n turned back to his friends. "wanna hang out at the park until jisung's shift is over? then we can go get food." they all readily agreed, interested to get to know their new friend as well.

a couple hours passed in a flash of games, rides, dinner and jisung's delightful company. all too soon, it was time for them to go home. but y/n had other plans.

"you guys go on ahead, i’m gonna walk jisung home," he said simply. his friends shared knowing grins and catcalls as they departed, leaving the two boys blushing in the night. could this be the start of something truly special?

#kpop fanfic #kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #nct x male reader #nct dream x male reader #park jisung x male reader #jisung x male reader

[soov]

KANG’S GARDEN ㅤ. . .ㅤ﹫ kang taehyun ★

꒰ 🧾 ꒱ farmer ! kang taehyun & fem reader, 1000 words. ㅤg fluff, non idol au, meet-cute, drabble. ㅤw brief mentions of food, revamped post from my old account.ㅤlibrary

sundays were your favorite day of the week.

it was on sundays that the town’s farmer’s market took place, where you could enjoy eating samples of fruits and organic jams. not only that, but especially talking to mrs. kang and her husband, the kind old couple that ran their family business “kang’s garden”.

the booth where they sold their products was near the outdoor market’s entrance. with a wooden sign (probably carved manually), a big plant pot, and multiple boxes, the place invited you merrily.

your shopping list for the week was the longest you’ve ever had. your family sent you alone to get the fruits and vegetables, something that you though was completely unfair, but that’s what happens when you lose a rock paper scissors match against your sibling.

spotting the booth from afar, you clutched onto the eco bags you carried, rays of light kissing your face and feet dragging against the tall grass. as you neared the spot, the kang’s family dog came running up to you, a red bandana dangling from her neck.

“hey, apple! how is my good girl doing?” you beamed, petting the golden retriever happily. she tilted her head to escape from your affection and lick your hand. a laugh passed through your lips.

while looking up at the booth, the sight of beautifully cultivated vegetables greeted you. accompanied by it, the aroma of fresh chives and parsley filled your lungs up.

you leaned over to try to spot mrs. kang’s small frame from behind the counter, but only a tuft of cocoa-colored, fluffy hair came into your view. quickly, a young man stood up with a box of tomatoes, glancing at you with wide eyes.

“oh, hello,” he greeted politely, putting the box aside. “welcome to kang’s garden. how may i help you today?”

the man dusted his hands off, fixing his dirty apron and the sleeves of his white button-up shirt, that had its collar poking out. he offered you a kind smile, faint dimples on both sides of his cheeks, just like the ones mrs. kang had. you were sure your mouth was hanging open from how effortlessly handsome the new attendant was.

he seemed a bit taken aback by your presence, though in reality, he simply found you as gorgeous as you found him.

“oh, right! um– i need everything in this list,” extending your arm to him, you let his calloused hands carefully pick up the paper.

his eyes traveled to each item mentioned, widening when he noticed how many of them you’d buy. “wow, are you planning on buying the whole shop?” he jested with a soft chuckle, handing back your page, “i’m sure i can give you a discount, so don’t worry about it.”

you inevitably pouted at his joke, leaving the paper on the counter. “you sure it’s not a problem? my parents went a bit overboard with the amount of items, no?”

“no, ‘course not.” the mysterious employee dismissed, hesitantly taking a small breath in. “do you want any help? i can grab the first half of the items and you grab the other half. does that sound good?”

“sounds great, thank you!” grinning at him in relief, you started picking up the carrots while he grabbed the bell peppers.

people passed by, and the sound of chatter and coins being tossed around was still booming around you two. the brunet was still fascinated by your nonchalant behavior, and how you seemed so used to being around the booth. taehyun thought he was extremely suave, taking glances at you every now and then.

with a last curious peek, he confidently rested his gaze on yours, maintaining the eye contact to strike up a new conversation, “do you like gardening?”

“i find it cool, but i never seem to get the hang of it.” you hummed. “the tomatoes i tried to grow died a week after i planted the cutting… what about you?”

“i do like gardening, but i don’t have much time for it since i’m always busy with college.” he affirmed before leaning back to grab a tomato from the box he brought earlier, showing it proudly to you. “i planted these, though!”

it shone bright red with the sun’s reflection on it, some droplets of water that he might’ve used to wash it dripping from the fruit. “woah, it looks so good.” you commented, not bothered by how he preened himself.

mumbling a shy “thank you”, he retrieved the tomato to its original place.

after a while of some awkward quietude, apple started sniffing you again, jumping on your side as a way to get your attention. you and the man took notice of this at the same time and called out her name — you in a playful tone, him in a reprimanding one.

as he realized you also knew his dog’s name, he frowned slightly, pausing his movements and letting the now beet root in his hand go with the others. happily, the golden retriever walked up to her owner. “you know apple?”

you got shocked by the sudden inquiry but replied nevertheless. “ah! yeah, i’m a regular customer here, so i got to know her.”

“so you must know my parents then, right?” he laughed briefly, head turning down to resume his work.

“your parents…? you mean mr. and mrs. kang?”

he gave you a smile as he turned to you, nodding. however, his face fell and he fastly wiped his palm once again on his clothes. “i’m so sorry, i haven’t introduced myself yet,” he offered his hand to you. “i’m kang taehyun, the owners’ son.”

reality hit you with a truck when you realized he was the beloved son mrs. kang always mentioned, and the comment about college made everything click in your mind. you shook taehyun’s hand back in pure astonishment as if you had just met a celebrity. “y/n. it’s so great to finally meet you. your mom always tells me good things about you.”

“oh, does she?” taehyun scraped the back of his neck embarrassedly, a faint blush on his tanned face. “that sounds like her. she’s very kind to everyone.”

taehyun finished counting the vegetables and telling you the final price with the discount. as you rummaged through your wallet for the money, he realized that his mom did also mention a pretty girl who often visited the booth, and the description did match you. nevertheless, he stayed quiet, just hurriedly scribbling on a post-it note sneaking it into one of your eco bags.

“thank you for buying with us. i’ll make an effort to be here more often and see you again.” the youngest kang gave you a toothy smile after the exchange ended, waving bashfully. apple barked right after his promise, officializing it.

“thanks, taehyun. i hope we’ll get to see each other soon,” you returned the wave and began to walk away.

“hey, y/n!” taehyun’s voice called out whilst you reached the entrance of the market. you spun around only to see him with an arm raised. “don’t forget to check if you’ve got everything in your bags!”

immediately, you opened the bags, superficially counting the food. a yellow thing caught your eye in one of them. the words you’d use to question him died in your throat, and the sound that escaped from your lips was a quiet laugh.

“xXx–XxX if you’re free someday, i can teach you some gardening tricks. just call me and i’ll be there :)”

⠀ ⠀ SOOV © 2O24

ㅤ𝗿𝗲𝗶’s notes ⪩⪨ feeling silly for changing the pink hair to brown!!!!!!! sorry pink tae enthusiasts 🙁🙁

#ㅤ𝓡. #tomorrow x together #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt drabbles #txt scenarios #kang taehyun #kang taehyun x reader #kang taehyun fluff #kang taehyun imagines #taehyun x reader #taehyun fluff #txt taehyun #txt #tomorrow by together

[verefex]

Caged Giant (Titan Origins) pt 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Content warnings in tags. It's hard being a titan.

How long had it been since that day? Crashing through the planet’s atmosphere, encased in rock, emerging from the cracked halves under tons and tons of soil.

Sky’s memory was foggy. It may have been a year. Perhaps two or three years.

“Here it is.” The giant said as his enormous self stood before the impact site. A tremendous crater, ringed by mounds of earth and rubble. In the center was a large meteor, mostly buried. Tire tracks and boot prints littered the ground, indicating that humans had investigated the site.

“It’s huge…” Lark said as she peeped out from the giant’s collar.

“Yup. This is where I woke up.” Sky said as he approached the center of the crater and crouched down, touching his fingers the dark space rock.

Lark became excited upon seeing the giant touch the meteor. Her curiosity got the better of her and she tugged at the titan’s shirt.

“Can I look at it? I’ve never seen a meteor before.” She asked, trying to hide her excitement.

“Sure.” Sky laughed as he reached up and let Lark jump into his hand before lowering it to the ground. Lark hopped off and approached the meteor, little blue eyes wide as she gazed up and down the surface.

“It looks like it’s been split in half, such a clean cut…” She uttered as she ran her fingers along the edges. It reminded her of a geode, with the inside being a lighter color than the rough outside.

Sky crouched over her, examining the buried meteor. He furrowed his brows as he gripped the edge, noting how clean the cut was, almost as if a laser split it open.

Lark gazed up at the enormous man above her, engulfed in his shadow. She found herself staring at his intense, serious expression.

“...Sky?” she said timidly, and the giant’s face turned to look at her.

“Huh? Oh. It’s just, you’re right. It was split almost perfectly down the middle. There’s no way it could have broken so evenly without a guide.” The giant’s words were solemn.

Lark looked from the giant’s face to the meteor. She nibbled on her knuckle in thought.

“How did you get encased in a meteor in the first place?” Lark asked the giant.

Sky blinked, then sighed as he sat back heavily on his rear with a loud thump. Lark stood frozen as the ground shook her, and she was met with the towering torso before her, his legs arched above on either side.

“I don’t remember.” Sky said softly. “I don’t remember anything except waking up to dirt falling into my eyes. I dug my way out between this broken hunk of rock. I was so exhausted and weak, I fell asleep as soon as I freed myself.”

Lark was quiet, intently listening to the giant as his hulking body surrounded her. Her little frame knelt down on the ground in the wake of the titan’s shadow.

“And when you woke up…?” She urged the giant to elaborate.

“I… felt this hunger that has never left me since then. Gnawing, aching, compelling me. It’s the only thing I’ve known, the only constant. I didn’t even have a name. I knew I came from the sky, so that was what I called myself.” The giant uttered as he recalled more and more.

“I started to learn about this planet, as I satisfied my hunger… I’d gain knowledge whenever I consumed something new. Humans. Animals. Plants and minerals. Nothing was off the menu. And there are endless things to discover on this planet.” Sky’s face became darker as he went on, and Lark’s nervous little hands gripped her thighs in the presence of an enormous all-consuming being.

“So… is that your goal? To… eat everything?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” Sky huffed as he stared at the meteor again, almost wishing that it would talk to him and provide answers.

“It was the same thing every day for me… until I got captured. And then I met you.” The titan eyed the small woman under his gaze. “Since then I have been… conscious about the decisions I make and how they impact the lives of humans. Until I find out what my true purpose is here, that’s what I’m sticking to.”

Lark felt her cheeks warm as the weight of her decision to free Sky became apparent. She found herself devoted to unraveling his mysteries, anything to keep him interested in her.

Is that really what she wanted? She shook her head.

“Wow, that’s… really awesome.” Lark smiled up at the giant as she stood up. “It’s unfortunate that you don’t remember anything about your past, though.”

“It’s all I’ve known, so it’s fine.” Sky said as he leaned forward, gripping his thighs as he stared down at the human peering up at him. “I just don’t know where to start looking for answers. This meteor doesn’t tell us much.”

“You sure about that?” Lark asked cheerfully. “Maybe you can dig it out and see the full thing, that might help.”

Sky grumbled as he looked at the partially buried meteor. It was under heaps of dirt, but perhaps Lark had a point.

“Alright. You might want to stand back.” The giant said as he reached down and plucked Lark off the ground, then leaned over and set her safely to the side.

The titan then rolled up his sleeves on his pristine white jacket and got to work scraping dirt away with the largest rock he could find. Clouds of dust filled the crater as he dug and dug, his jacket now a shade of rusty orange as he finally loosened enough earth and was able to pull one half of the meteor out of the ground with tremendous effort.

The two observed the cylindrical rock. The outer surface was rough, but smooth to the touch, like cooled lava. The most curious trait, however, was the interior. Rather than rock, it had a likeness to metal, with a green sheen inlaid with etchings and port structures.

“I guess it’s… not a meteor?” Sky rumbled as his fingers ran across the etchings.

“Wait, let me see!” Lark yelled from the edge of the crater, and Sky reached over and picked her up, bringing her up to the inner surface.

“You’re right, it’s etched metal.” Lark said as she touched the smooth, curved surface from the safety of the giant’s hand. “It’s like it was manufactured this way.”

“Huh… look at the outside, too. It’s not even rock, it’s just burnt and melted metal, I think?” The giant said as he touched the rough outer edges.

“It probably looked a lot different before being burnt up coming through the atmosphere… I can’t believe you survived the crash, Sky.” Lark said, looking up at the confused titan from his palm.

“Must be really tough stuff. It kind of looks like an escape pod, so it’s meant to crash. But that still doesn’t explain why I’m here in the first place…” Sky sighed as he stood up and looked at the giant melted pod, the other half still mostly buried in the earth.

As the giant stood, clouds of dust and dirt fell from him. From his outstretched palm held at chest height, Lark could see streaks of brown and orange all over his jacket.

“Oh, your coat!” She said suddenly, and Sky looked down at himself. He blinked and looked at Lark with a calm expression.

“It’s fine, it’s washable.” The giant said as he used his fingers to brush off some of the dirt.

“Hmm, well it’s not like there are washing machines for clothes your size.” Lark sighed as she examined the titan’s enormous thick coat, padded and lined for warmth. She then blinked suddenly as she realized something inexplicable about the hulking man’s wear.

“Sky… where did you get that coat, anyways?” She asked up at the giant. “You didn’t even have a shirt on when I first met you.”

“Uh… I don’t know how to explain this, but it kind of just appeared.” Sky said flatly as he held the woman in his hand closer to his face.

“...please try to explain.” Lark replied, her face blank.

“Okay, so, after we escaped and parted ways, I was pretty cold without most of my clothes. It does take a lot for me to get cold, but the next night I remember I started shivering. Then, my insides glowed blue under my skin, and I got real warm.” Sky said as he gestured with his free hand, then grabbed the loose collar of his jacket.

“And then, these clothes appeared on me. And I been wearin’ em since.” The giant shrugged.

Lark, speechless, glanced down at the giant’s palm, which was covered with a thin, black fingerless glove. She picked at the fabric, deeming it rather sturdy and very similar to a glove she might wear.

“So your body… glows, and creates things out of thin air.” She chortled.

“I know, it sounds stupid.” Sky sighed, bringing Lark closer to his face. “But I’m not complaining. I’d be walking around almost naked otherwise.”

“Yeah, what a… shame that would be.” Lark said with a cheeky smirk.

The giant raised his eyebrows curiously at her comment. “Hmm?” He rumbled questioningly as he stared down Lark, who suddenly became shy and averted her gaze from his looming face.

“I mean, maybe, if we were in a warmer climate.” Sky shrugged. “It’s pretty damn cold here. I like it though.”

Lark leaned back into the giant’s palm and hugged her arms. “It’s alright… I wouldn’t mind living somewhere warmer. My team has been here for a while and it’s barely gotten warmer than 50 degrees.”

Sky chuckled as he glanced down at the woman in his hand, admiring her petite size.

“My body is very warm, you know. You can live in my pocket if you want.” The giant giggled as he gestured to his coat pockets on his hips. “But… nah, I mean, you must have a home or something to go back to, huh?”

Lark shook her head heartily and scooted along Sky’s palm, where she wrapped her arms around his enormous thumb. “I want to be with you.” She said firmly, hugging his thumb.

Sky’s expression softened as he gazed at the adorable little woman clinging to his thumb. His heart fluttered at her dedication and trust towards him.

The titan lifted his hand up to his mouth and pushed his soft lips into Lark’s body, feeling her warmth, her minuscule proportions.

“What made you trust me so much?” Sky whispered, incredulously, as he pushed his lips against her.

Lark froze up as the giant’s mouth whispered directly into her ear, his breath smelling faintly like birch.

“You… didn’t eat me.” She responded timidly, still clutching his thumb as his face smothered her against his broad palm.

“I could. Right now.” The giant rumbled, and Lark could hear his tongue scraping against the back of his teeth, directly behind her head.

“… I know.” Lark said softly, closing her eyes tightly, ever so hopeful.

Sky’s throat rumbled with a soft growl as he parted his lips, then his teeth, and suddenly his mouth had encircled her, trapping her between his palm and his enormous, blue mouth overhead. It took everything in her not to scream, to trust this mischievous giant with her own life as she forced herself to let go of his thumb and roll onto her back, staring up at the channel of his tongue, the grooves of his palate.

The interior of his mouth was partially illuminated only from the light pouring in from the gaps between his lips and his palm. While her back was against his palm, she was completely inside of his mouth, his teeth and tongue encircling her with no escape.

Her breath caught in her chest as she reached out and touched her delicate fingers to his tongue beside her.

“Sky. Enough.” She said shakily, forcing her eyes to stay open as his mouth surrounded her.

The titan grumbled as she touched his tongue, wanting nothing more than to close his mouth around her and seal her inside. But he obliged and withdrew himself, leaving her shaking in his palm.

“Huff- you’re no fun.” Sky said breathily, smiling warmly down at the tiny woman in his hand.

Lark stayed on her back, glaring up at him with a pout as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Just cause I trust you doesn’t mean you should push it!” Lark retorted, and Sky couldn’t help but giggle mischievously.

“I know, I know…sorry.” The titan licked his lips and moved his hand away from his mouth, eyeing her carefully. His appetite was certainly whetted by her proximity to his jaws. He had to be more careful.

“It’s alright… no harm done.” Lark said as she sat up in his palm and crossed her legs, nestling into the giant’s warm hand.

“So, where would you like to ride from here on out?” Sky said as he gestured to his body.

“Ride? Um…” Lark leaned back and took in the enormous breadth of Sky’s imposing stature before her.

“You do have a lot of pockets. How about the chest one again?” She said as she started to fuss over her hair and tousle it back into place.

“Good choice.” Sky said as he lifted the tiny woman up to his left breast and unzipped the pocket. He tilted his palm towards the opening, and Lark gingerly stepped inside and dropped to the bottom of the pocket.

Being flush against the giant man’s chest warmed Lark to the core. She found herself smiling as she nestled into the bottom corner of the fabric pouch. As Sky walked with his enormous heavy steps, Lark was comforted by the sway of his gait. It really was a perfect place for a small human such as herself.

Sky smiled as well, feeling her fluttery little body against his right breast. His fingertips grazed the outside of the pocket protectively.

“Shall I zip you in, seal your fate?” The giant grinned as he tugged at the zipper, pulling the tab slowly along the teeth.

Lark gasped as she looked up at the opening of the pocket, the light dwindling as the enormous zipper teeth came together in a neat row.

“Hey, no! There’s no way I could pull that back open!” She whined, standing up awkwardly in the fabric folds and stretching her arms up. Her fingertips only grazed the teeth of the zipper.

Sky merely laughed and left the zipper halfway closed. “I’m kidding! I want you to be able to get out if you need to.” He patted the pocket gently and continued walking, consciously aware of the tiny life tucked away against his breast.

Very few humans lived in the remote wilderness of the north where Sky roamed. Aside from temporary settlements and camps, such as the one Lark came from, he was unlikely to encounter many people. Titans, on the other hand, were known to travel in a wide range.

Sky let out a long, pained sigh as he stood still. He gazed down at his breast pocket where Lark was safely snuggled into.

“Hey Lark. I know you agreed to stay with me, but… it will be dangerous if I meet another titan. I don’t know how well I can protect you if things get ugly.” Sky rumbled as he pulled the zipper outwards to peek inside his pocket.

Lark peeked up from the bottom, gazing at the giant’s worried eyes through the zipper opening.

“You mean like a fight? Do titans attack each other?” She asked.

“I might. It depends on how cooperative they are.” Sky replied. “I intend to only ask questions… I gotta learn more about myself. I don’t know where else to look for answers, and the meteor only complicated things.”

“Hmm… well, I’d still rather stay with you, Sky. I trust that you’ll keep me safe…” Lark said as she looked up and placed a small hand on the giant’s breast, a tiny reassurance within his pocket.

“I’ll protect you, Lark. If anything, I might just have to hide you somewhere you can’t be stepped on or crushed on accident.” Sky said while touching his fingers to the outside of his chest pocket. “Just wanted to uh, forewarn you. Though I’m sure you know other titans aren’t as gentle as I am.”

Lark let out a laugh. Though Sky was the only titan she had really met, she was well aware of the dangers. “Yeah, I won’t go waltzing up to another giant… don’t worry!”

Sky glanced down at his pocket again and grumbled, placing his hand over his entire breast protectively. The cold northern air chilled his enormous body, but his pocket remained warm, tucked against himself. Lark would be safe from the cold as long as she was with him.

As he walked, the titan suddenly winced as his stomach tightened into a knot. He had been ignoring it for the majority of the day, but the pain was now amped up to a 10.

Sky halted, standing still among the trees. His glowing blue eyes scanned the treetops, deliberating on which one to take a bite out of. Yet, as he brought his mouth up to the leaves, he stopped.

This wasn’t right. His body was telling him it was hungry for something else.

The titan blinked. When was the last time he ate humans?

“Damn…” Sky grumbled, gritting his teeth as he stared at the leaves in front of him, a snack he had eaten many times before when he was desperate. The thought of choking them down right now made him nauseous.

Lark, sensing the giant’s turmoil, peeked her head out of his pocket’s zipper and looked up at him.

“Sky, you okay?” She asked timidly, and the giant did not look at her.

No, he didn’t dare look at her, so small and vulnerable in his pocket, with her taste still faint on his lips. He merely closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tight.

“I don’t know. Stay in the pocket, Lark.” He rumbled lowly, reaching up with his fingertip and gently pushing her back down into the depths of his clothing.

“Hey-!” She squeaked as she was forced inside, even more so when Sky promptly zipped the pocket all the way shut.

The giant breathed deeply, feeling his lungs swell and his guts cramp painfully. This had certainly been the longest time he had gone since devouring Lark’s kind. He had to keep her safe, no matter what. Safe, and oblivious.

The titan turned in place and walked purposefully towards a hillside he had passed by earlier. He had caught a glimpse as he was walking of a dirt road winding through the trees, a pathway paved by humans.

Inside his pocket, tucked against his pounding chest, Lark was fiddling nervously. Rocked this way and that by his strides, her efforts to reach up and undo the zipper were fruitless. She was helpless, all she could do was sink to the bottom of his pocket.

What was he planning to do? She had to know. While the giant was distracted, she focused her attention on the seams lining the bottom corner of the pocket with her small knife.

Sky followed the dirt road, his giant boots plowing through trees and rocks as he scanned the area. It was unlikely, but there was a chance there would be humans somewhere along the road, either by vehicle or in a campsite.

Sure enough, the giant’s long strides brought him to a small camp. Three tents surrounded an electric portable stove on the top of the hill. No sign of a fire or smoke, a telling sign that the inhabitants were trying to avoid detection.

Two humans appeared out of the tents, alerted by the titan’s presence. Geared up in tactical camo gear, they immediately began shouting into their radios as Sky wasted no time in reaching down and grabbing them both in one hand.

Sky stared at them both as they struggled in his hand, feeling his innards rumble with anticipation. This was it, the cure. He wasted no time in cramming both of the men into his mouth and sealing them inside despite their protests.

Under his jacket, Lark had slipped out of the hole in his pocket, and was making her way down along his enormous body. An audible swallowing sound filled the air, and she froze somewhere along his abdomen.

“Sky…” she whispered, horrified, as her proximity to his stomach gave away what he had just put in there. Indeed, the muffled cries of the two humans the giant had just swallowed whole emanated from within.

The titan felt himself go into a trance-like state as his body immediately responded to his latest meal, and a warm glowing feeling washed over him as the pain in his guts subsided. He let out a long sigh, then leaned back in satisfaction, just in time for Lark to slip out from under his jacket.

“Woah!” He yelled and fumbled, reaching down to catch her before she hit the ground.

“What are you doing?” Sky said with a gasp as he brought her close to his face, cupping her in his palm. She shuddered briefly before looking up at him in horror.

“You ate them!” Lark cried, pointing her finger at his enormous face. “People, you ate people!”

Sky stared at her guiltily, covering his mouth with his free hand. Now that his stomach pain had subsided, he was able to think more clearly. Didn’t he tell Lark directly that he would not be eating other humans?

“...I forgot.” He mumbled.

“How could you forget? It’s not like you ate them on accident!” Lark cried, pounding her tiny fists into his palm.

Sky bit his lip as he leaned over and stared down at his belly, which was happily full of squirming. Now that he had finally eaten, the thought of letting them back out was agonizing.

“You don’t understand… I have to.” He retorted, his gaze avoiding Lark’s.

“You have to? What will happen if you don’t eat humans? What about eating trees, like before?” She cried.

“I couldn’t continue any longer. It hurt… my insides felt like they were on fire. Now it’s fine…” Sky uttered.

“Sky…” Lark said, defeated, crumpling in his hand at his words. Her entire body shook as she was forced to witness such atrocities. All she could think about was how whoever was eaten was still alive inside of him… for now.

The titan sighed, glancing around his surroundings. He felt guilty for exposing Lark to this without much warning. If she just stayed in his pocket, would things have been better? She certainly would have still heard the commotion.

“I’m sorry. Maybe all this was a mistake.” Sky said as he crouched down and held his hand against the ground, with Lark on top. “If you stay with me, you’re going to witness stuff like this. I can’t change who I am.” The giant’s expression was solemn.

Lark’s lip quivered as she looked up at the giant, then down at the ground, at the empty encampment.

“You’re going to leave me here alone?” She asked, staring up at him with big eyes.

“Don’t worry, there’s one person left.” Sky said, nodding towards one of the tents. Lark followed his gaze and stared inside, indeed catching a glimpse of its occupant. Sky’s enormous hand reached over and plucked the tent off the ground, exposing them.

With a surprised expression, the last human in the encampment froze in Sky’s shadow. It was none other than Devon, the unfortunate man who couldn’t seem to catch a break from the titan.

“Oh god, it’s Devon… don’t leave me with him!” Lark whined, pointing her finger at the cowardly man.

Devon scrambled in place and stood up, clenching a rifle in his hands. Sky’s huge body eclipsed the area, a look of amusement on his face.

“You again…! You’ll pay, titan… for eating my men!” Devon shouted, aiming his weapon and Sky and pulling the trigger… a click. He had forgotten to load any rounds.

Sky, heaving a sigh, cupped Lark in his hand and leaned closer to the shouting man.

“Hey, don’t be so upset. They were very satisfying.” The titan said lowly, eyeing the lone human who was currently fumbling with reloading his rifle.

“Shut up, you!” Devon said, gritting his teeth as he finally loaded his gun and aimed up at Sky once more. The titan blinked, staring at the tiny gun pointed at him, and brought his hand up, over Devon, and clapped it down on top of him.

The man was flattened instantly under the giant’s massive palm, and when Sky removed his hand, Devon was reeling from the shock, sprawled on his back in pain. Sky took the opportunity to pinch the man’s leg between his thumb and forefinger, lifting him off the ground as his rifle tumbled down, out of his loose fingers.

Lark watched, still cupped in the giant’s other hand, as the limp body of Devon was lifted up by his foot, dangling precariously between Sky’s fingers. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what the giant’s intentions were.

Sky caught her gaze and looked at her, holding Devon up next to his face threateningly. His expression was stern.

“So, you don’t like this guy. Are you going to protest if I eat him, too?” The titan uttered, and Lark could hear the malice dripping in his voice.

“I…” Lark stammered, suddenly feeling like she was the judge, jury, and executioner of this one man’s life. She didn’t particularly hate Devon, but he did vocally advocate banishing her from their group.

“You don’t have to watch. I’ll make it quick.” Sky said as he slowly brought the dangling man to his mouth.

“H-He won’t feel any pain, right?” Lark asked innocently. Her hands started to get clammy as she braced herself for what she was about to see.

Sky shook his head. “No. At least, I don’t think so. They usually quiet down after a little while.”

“...until they get dissolved in acid, right…” Lark shuddered.

“No, that’s not it. Titan’s bodies are different from a human’s. Remember how I mentioned my insides glowing? It happens after I eat, as well. The light grows warm and disperses nutrients throughout, instantly. At least that’s what I think.” Sky said as he nodded down to his torso, clad in his warm jacket but a faint blue glow could be seen underneath.

Lark stared at his middle, her eyes indeed picking up the faint glow within the titan’s body.

“Really? So… that light in your body is responsible for regulating your organs, and… manifesting clothing and equipment for you…” She said curiously, head tilting as she contemplated the complicated nature of the titan’s body. “That’s pretty handy, you know. I wonder what else it does…”

As Lark sat comfortably in the giant’s hand, Devon was slowly coming-to, held by his leg in front of Sky’s face. He gasped as he was held upside-down, so high off the ground, staring at the titan’s mouth.

“Hey, no, no, no…” He said, flailing his arms as he swung back and forth from the giant’s fingers. “C’mon, you don’t gotta eat me too!”

Sky turned his attention to Devon, feeling his appetite growing by the minute.

“If I let you go again, you’ll just try to shoot me.” Sky retorted, already feeling impatient about delaying his meal.

“What? No, of course not! You really think that gun can do much damage to you anyways??” Devon squeaked helplessly.

“You could take my eye out. Not risking it. Besides, I’m not satisfied with just the two.” Sky said lowly, opening his mouth and raising Devon above it. Just as he was about to drop him inside, Lark piped up below.

“Wait! Sky, hold on.” She said, patting the giant’s hand. Sky glanced down at her, mouth still partially open. “We could… use this as an opportunity to see what happens in there…”

Sky raised an eyebrow at her words. He closed his mouth and leveled his head to look down at her in his palm.

“...go on.” He said. Lark bit her lip nervously, suddenly feeling rather put on the spot.

“Well, um, since you’re eating him anyways… what if we hooked up his body cam and transmitted it to my phone?” Lark said, holding up her device. “All of those suits have them.”

Sky smiled, impressed by her boldness to use a fellow human in this way. Devon, of course, protested loudly to the idea.

“What?? Oh come on, you’re gonna use me as an endoscope?” He squealed, and Sky merely flipped the man’s body into his hand and closed his fist on him.

“Didn’t expect this from you.” Sky laughed as he brought Lark up closer to his face. “Isn’t that rather morbid?”

Lark blushed at his words, fiddling with her phone as she perched in his palm. “You know what? Yes, it is. You were right, by staying with you I have no choice but to be complicit in… this. So, let’s make the most of it, and maybe if Devon cooperates well enough, you can let him go afterwards?”

Sky huffed, glancing upwards as he considered her request. He hadn’t considered letting humans free after swallowing them whole before. The process did not appeal to him, but he cared for Lark a lot, and if this is what he had to do to make her happy, then it was worth it.

“Fine. Let’s try it.” He said, bringing his hands together and opening up his fist in his right hand, which contained the disgruntled Devon. The man grumbled as he scrambled onto his feet, only to fall onto his rear once Sky’s hand tilted enough.

“I didn’t agree to this bullshit.” Devon grumbled as he started undoing the straps on his pants and boots. His clothing was quite bulky, so he wanted to minimize the risk of getting lodged in the giant’s gullet on the way down.

“That’s too bad.” Sky said, eyeing the man carefully. He could tell Lark was uncomfortable being so close to him, but it was only temporary.

“I just gotta set my app to your cam’s frequency…” Lark said timidly as she peered at Devon’s chest camera. The young man glared at her, unsure if he should be furious or thankful for her idea. He shook his dark hair and leaned back, turning on his camera.

“50602.” He uttered as the camera powered on. “That’s the code.”

Lark avoided his gaze as she punched the numbers into her phone. The devices connected, and she could view the camera.

“All set… um, good luck.” She said with a wave to Devon, who sneered back at her.

“Yeah, thanks.” He said sarcastically.

“Hey, be nice to her. She’s doing you a favor.” Sky said as he brought Devon up to his face.

“Not so much as she is doing it for her own creepy needs. You two sicken me.” The man said, feeling the dread rising inside of him as he was brought close to that terrifying, blue mouth yet again.

“You’re not gonna change my mind. Just relax and enjoy the trip.” Sky said with a smirk, before tilting Devon into his mouth.

The man grunted as he was tilted inside, the giant’s enormous size easily engulfing him and surrounding him with his teeth and blue maw. He fell flat on his palms in the middle of Sky’s tongue, with a clear view of his throat before him.

Lark watched her phone with bated breath as the camera fogged up from the titan’s hot breath. All she could see was the blue of his tongue, before the screen went black just as Sky swallowed.

Devon was tilted into Sky’s throat by his powerful tongue, sliding down head-first into the darkness. He grit his teeth as he was forcibly squeezed down, his small size effortlessly fitting inside the titan’s esophagus.

After what felt like an eternity in the giant’s throat, Devon reached Sky’s stomach, where he was suddenly dropped from the throat and into the bottom. He landed with a thud, rolling down the side of the titan’s stomach until he was flat on his back, trapped in the pit of Sky’s belly.

Sky let out a satisfied huff as his empty stomach was filled. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them as he brought Lark up to his face to observe her. She was staring at her phone, admiring the look of the inside of her enormous companion’s gut.

“It’s… bright blue…” She uttered, noting how the inside of Sky’s stomach lit up with an ominous glow.

Devon shivered, scooting himself backwards from the pit of the giant’s stomach. His breaths were coming out rapidly as he looked around his environment. Every fold and ridge of the titan’s stomach were illuminated by a bright blue glow, which emanated from underneath the flesh.

“Holy shit…” He said, fully expecting to see the half-digested bodies of his comrades inside the titan’s stomach. He was completely alone inside; not a trace of them were to be found. Devon’s eyes went wide as he realized his time was very limited before he was completely digested.

“Are you done yet??” He yelled as he continued backing into the walls of Sky’s stomach. Just then, among the inner gurgling and groaning of the giant’s guts, a pulsing mechanical sound whirred around him. The glowing flesh of the titan’s stomach became brighter, and waves of lines traveled up along the folds from the center.

Lark stared at her screen in disbelief as Sky’s stomach appeared to be scanning its contents, surrounding Devon with waves of light. “Something crazy’s happening… I think it’s bad news for Devon.” She said as she looked up at Sky, who was eyeing her curiously.

“My stomach feels very warm.” Sky said as he glanced down to his middle. He grimaced, knowing he would have to empty it.

“Get me outta here, this shit’s crazy!!” Devon wailed as he plastered himself against the walls, and the waves of light got more and more intense.

Suddenly, the giant’s stomach contracted, and its contents were squeezed upwards. Devon was forced back up the wide throat he had just slid down and in just a few seconds, he was back in Sky’s mouth, utterly soaked in fluids.

Sky leaned over his free hand and calmly opened his mouth, rolling Devon’s limp body off of his tongue and into his palm. The man lay there, dazed after being squeezed so hard on all sides.

“Is he okay?” Lark asked timidly from the giant’s other hand, and Sky nodded.

“Yeah. That was close, though. Another minute and he would have been gone.” The giant said as he cupped his hand around the regurgitated human.

“You’re goddamn kiddin’ me. That was insane. I hope you two know that.” Devon groaned as he sat up in Sky’s hand and started wiping globs of spit off his face.

“Hmm, but you’re probably the first human to get eaten by a titan and survive…” Sky said thoughtfully, running his tongue along his lips, savoring the remnants of flavor.

“Well, whatever you are, you sure as hell ain’t like us. Blue insides. Glowing, blue insides at that. And what must have been a damn full-body scan…” Devon said rather lowly, as if he was talking to himself.

“Do you think… it’s an artificial organ?” Lark said thoughtfully, mostly directed at Sky, who looked at her rather incredulously.

“Artificial? Like, you think I’m not comprised of flesh?” The titan asked, tilting his head at the curious little woman in his left hand. “I guess… I never thought about that. I… don’t think I’m artificial, but, maybe parts of me are…”

“I am not going back in to get a biopsy.” Devon retorted, sitting with his back turned to both Sky and Lark as he squeezed moisture out of his hair and clothes.

Lark glanced at the disgruntled man and bit her lip. He looked awful, drenched in digestive fluids with his hair and clothes matted down. She looked down at her phone and ended the stream to his body cam, saving the recording.

“I think it’s about time to let him go.” Lark said, glancing up at the titan, who nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Thanks for taking the plunge.” Sky laughed as he bent down and brought Devon lower to the ground in his hand. The man scoffed before hopping off eagerly.

“As if I had a choice…” Devon seethed quietly as he promptly walked back to his tent and started drying himself off with a rag.

Sky then stood up and turned his back to the campsite, walking away without another word. He held Lark close to his chest, cupping her protectively as he walked, enormous stride easily taking them a good distance before finally stopping.

Sky sat down with a contented sigh, spreading his legs out as he cupped Lark in both hands and held her close to his face as he leaned over. He gave her an exasperated smile.

“I feel like I have more questions than answers now.” He said, using his thumb to gently rub Lark’s petite shoulders.

Lark smiled warmly as the giant touched her. Despite his enormous size and terrifying appetite, the titan’s hands around her were a welcome feeling.

“Do you still think we’d be better off parting ways?” She asked timidly, looking up at the titan with big eyes.

Sky’s eyes narrowed, and he smiled as he shook his head.

“We make a good team, don’t we?” He rumbled as he touched the tip of his thumb to the top of her little head. Lark giggled in response.

“I’m glad.” She said softly, leaning into the giant’s warm embrace, his touch already numbing her to the memory of his recent meal.

#story #sky #lark #soft vore #macro micro #Only took me what #7 months #to update this? #have to say I def struggled a lot with the direction but I managed it somehow. I think. lol enjoy

[afrogmentioned]

The Invitation

Itadori Yuuji, a young Japanese-American man, finds himself without a family after his grandfather's death. Despite his strong bond with his friends Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, he reconnects with his long-lost family through a DNA test. Unfortunately, they see an opportunity where he sees a family.

wc: 1,024

ship: sukuita

characters: Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, (Choso, Sukuna, Uraume -> not here yet)

notes: creating my JJK tumblr and balancing my fics (1) here before posting again (fingers crossed)

PART ONE: SALVATION

CHAPTER ONE: ALONE NO MORE

The tag of his white shirt was rubbing against Yuuji's nape, he should have cut it before leaving his flat he thought for a while. The little piece of fabric was slowly getting on his nerves, and the fundraiser kept on going as if it would never stop. He almost sighed as he went past a woman in what was probably a month's worth of his salary. Yuuji smiled and showed the tray he was holding: 

“Beef carpaccio?” He offered the woman. She looked him up and down and ignored him.

Yuuji kept walking through the crowd. One man got close enough to smell him and recognizing the sweet honeyed scent of an omega, he winked at him. Yuuji almost barfed in his mouth. He looked back at the bar where Nobara was filling the champagne glass, looking as if she wanted to open her wrists with a broken flute. Yuuji chuckled and kept asking around him if people wanted to eat beef carpaccio. One woman didn’t even turn and shushed him as she watched whatever CEO talking about his company's annual growth. He couldn’t wait until this was over.

Megumi was already in the kitchen putting food in plastic containers for them to take home. Yuuji almost begged him to leave the beef carpaccio out of his, he couldn’t even handle the smell of it now that he had carried a tray of raw meat the entire evening. Megumi’s tips were on the table waiting for Yuuji’s and Nobara’s, they would slip the total amount into three, and sometimes, depending on their finances, one of them would get a bigger cut to be able to pay their rent.

Nobara opened the doors to the kitchen and sighed loudly before trashing her heels. She fetched the tips from her pockets and slammed the money on the countertop. Yuuji started counting when a small bag dropped in front of him and another in front of Megumi:

“I managed to snatch three of them,” Nobara grinned. “I think there is wine in it.”

“Drunkard,” Yuuji teased still counting the bills.

“Ass, You’re letting me sleep at yours as an apology.”

Megumi snorted before he closed the last plastic container and handed it to Nobara. He pocketed his share of the tips and turned to face Nobara: 

“I got one ass grazing,” he said matter-of-factly. Nobara whistled.

“Boobs ogling, I’m not mad I’m pretty sure I got bigger tips because of it.”

“One ass squeeze and a couple of rude sniffs,” Yuuji smiled from where he stood.

“Fucking alphas,” Nobara sighed.

In the end, Megumi and Nobara slept at Yuuji’s, they knew it was his birthday. Even if he didn’t say anything, Yuuji felt relieved to spend the evening with them. It was only his second birthday since his grandfather had passed, and last year had been miserable, Yuuji was determined to spend a better one this year.

Toothbrush between her teeth, Nobara opened his bathroom door and poked her head into the living room:

“Whot wash it about twuday?”

“Some kind of genealogy tree with DNA,” Megumi answered speaking fluently mouthful Nobara.

“I shink there is a free techt in the bags.”

Yuuji looked in his gift bag and found a small bottle of white wine, chocolates and plastic wrapping which would change his life forever. A house kit DNA test. Megumi was staring at him from his side of the couch: 

“You wanna try?” Yuuji asked.

“Nah, got enough disappointing family members with my dad, I don’t need more. You?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuji hesitated. “It’s just, it’s always been my grandad and me. And now I feel kind of alone, I know I have you guys but sometimes I just want to know where I came from and stuff, what was the deal with my family,” Megumi didn’t answer for a while.

“It’s your decision Yuuji, you’re more my family than my dad, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Yuuji answered slowly eaten by guilt. Megumi was his family too, and Nobara too. But sometimes, in the loneliness of his flat, he couldn’t be sure of his place in the world.

“Dude, do the test, maybe you’re an heir to a big family or something. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a test,” Megumi added. “I don’t know how it feels to be alone, to have no one to call family. I got my mom’s side and Tsumiki. What I want to say is: do it if you want to.”

“Thanks,” Yuuji mumbled. Megumi wasn’t always the most articulate, it probably took a lot from him to say all of that. It felt like a lot to Yuuji. “You’re like a brother to me, you know that?”

Megumi didn’t answer but he smiled at him and dropped his head against Yuuji’s shoulder. Nobara went to sit on the other side of Yuuji and dropped herself over him, she had probably been listening to them. She smelled of mint toothpaste and Megumi of the caramel candies he had been eating. Yuuji sighed, slowly he felt his shoulders relax and the nagging headache he had had for a while receded. It felt like a home. Like a family. He enjoyed it, tomorrow his flat would be cold and empty.

Yuuji dropped the DNA test in the mail. It was just a stupid test like Megumi said. It didn’t mean anything and it would probably not show any result. For all he knew he was a simple Japanese-American man whose family had immigrated in the late nineteenth century. He probably had estranged cousins or no one at all. Determined to forget all about it Yuuji went back to his normal life as a waiter and artist. He focused even more on his tasks in order to have his brain focus on something else than refreshing his ancestry page. He didn’t talk about it with Megumi or Nobara too happy to spend time with them when they could meet up. Until one evening, when he was cutting the cucumbers to make tzatziki his phone beeped. 

Congratulations

You have one (1) DNA match!

Masterpost

Next Chapter

Chapter List

#what i write #fanfiction #suku/ita #sukuita #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #ryomen sukuna #my fics

[mugs-n-cans]

scout, you should wear a crop top. i must know sniper's reaction.

Ya got it, pal! This is gonna be so frickin’ sweet.

[He simply cuts one of his red t-shirts into a crop top].

Man, do girls actually wear this stuff? It’s kinda cold.

[Some time later, he finds Sniper sharpening his knife. He approaches out of sight].

Yo, what’s up!

Sniper: Just fixin’ up my knife, mate.

Don’t ya wanna, y’know. Look at me?

Sniper: …What bloody game are ya playin’ this time, roo.

No game! No game at all, man! Just, y’know, does this shirt look good on me?

[Sniper finally sighs and turns to look. His expression is blank].

Sooooo. What’dya think?

Sniper: I’m thinkin’ a few things. [His voice lowers, too quiet to be heard by anyone except Scout].

[Scout is utterly speechless, mouth agape, and eyes wide. He got some sort of reaction…Sniper returns to sharpening his knife].

Sniper: And it looks bloody trashy, couldn’t even cut it in a straight line, mate.

#asks n cans #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 ask blog #speedingbullet #sniperscout #suggestive #kind of #does this count as suggestive

[marsplastic13]

Knock knock - Part 1

pairings: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

summary: The door of the infirmary was slightly open, and Jesper could hear Kaz and Vik's voices. Were they laughing? The boy got closer trying to be as quiet as possible, from the narrow space left from the door he could see them reflected on the mirror. Kaz was sitting on the desk, while the girl was looking between all the bottles and medical supplies. "Saints Kaz, sometimes I think you get all this beat up just to spend some time with me" Jesper frowned, were they flirting? Kaz smiled, smiled?, while looking at his feet "Maybe I do" WHAT?

Tw: mentions of violence, referenced drug use, referenced sex

"Vik.. Vik we're back" Jesper touched the girl's shoulder to wake her up. She was all curled up on an armchair near the fireplace, an anatonomy book with a really gruesome picture was balanced on her lap. "How can she fall asleep reading this stuff?" Asked Jesper turning towards Kaz. "We just beat a man almost to death, Jesper" said the boy raising his eyebrows. "That's a really valid point. Vik come one wake up". The girl bolted on her feet, eyes wide open, letting the big book fall on Jesper's foot, who let out a soffocated groan. "You scared the hell out of me Jes" Vik tightened the blanket around herself, steading her breath. "What time is it?" "Almost three bells" said Kaz leaning over the armchair to lift a bit of weight from is bad leg. "Why are you so late? Did something happen?" She was looking between the two boys rather worried. "Job was fine, and thanks to my hero right there that took all the punches for me, even my beautiful face is fine" Jesper gestured to Kaz, he sighed and turn himself towards the fire's light. He had a cut above his eyebrow and his jaw was becoming a weird shade of purple. "Saints Kaz" the girl made a few steps to take a better look of his face "Come on, let's patch you up, Jesper do you need anything, love?" She looked at him over her shoulder while following Kaz to the improvised room they used as an infirmery. "Don't worry dear, just going straight to bed. 'Night boss".

Halfway through the stairs leading to his room at The Slat, Jesper remembered the marvealous sleeping pills that sometimes he convinced Vik to give him, and he went back to try his luck.

The door of the infirmary was slightly open, and Jesper could hear Kaz and Vik's voices. Were they laughing? The boy got closer trying to be as quiet as possible, from the narrow space left from the door he could see them reflected on the mirror. Kaz was sitting on the desk, while the girl was looking between all the bottles and medical supplies. "Saints Kaz, sometimes I think you get all this beat up just to spend some time with me" Jesper frowned, were they flirting? Kaz smiled, smiled?, while looking at his feet "Maybe I do" WHAT?, "Maybe I asked Jesper to throw a few punches at me so that you could fix me up a bit". The girl laughed, and a little grin appeared on Kaz's lips. Jesper had no idea of what he was witnessing, and he absolutely needed to know more. "Open your shirt, I can sense that broken rib from here" "Yes ma'am" Kaz slowly unbottened his black shirt exposing the bad bruise on his side. After gathering all the supplies, Vik got closer to the desk, between Kaz's legs. "I barely see you these days" whispered the boy placing his gloved hands on her hips "You're always working" Was Kaz pouting? "You know that you're always working too?" Said Vik concentrating on his rib. "This is going to hurt a bit" The sound of the rib getting back in place made Jesper shiver. "You could leave your job, you know?".

Vik was not only a healer for the Dregs, she was about to graduate and become a proper medik. It was way safer then trying to live as Grisha in Ketterdam. Jesper didn't know how Kaz met her, he just showed up one day two years prior with a really cute girl saying to everyone that she was their new healer. Since then, she managed to divide herself between her internship at the hospital, her last exams and taking care of them after jobs. With time she became good friends with all the crows, bonding over their wounds at the start and then going out with them almost every weekend when she wasn't working the nights at the hospital.

The girl sighed while treating the livid on Kaz's side "You know I can't leave my job Kaz" From how they were talking Jesper thought that this wasn't the first time they were having that kind of conversation. "Why not, you're on my payroll" Kaz pulled her closer, cocky grin on his face, searching for her focused eyes. "Your payroll? With what the Dregs give me I would call it more of a charity work" Kaz chuckled "Oh yeah? Care to remind me who pays the rent for your really lovely apartment in the University district, in which I think, and please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, you haven't slept in over a month?" Jesper's jaw was on the floor. Were Kaz and Vik in a relationship? Since when? 

"Then I guess tonight there's a long walk towards my lovely apartment that awaits for me" said her finally locking eyes with him. "Absolutely not" "See? It's your fault I'm always here". Always here? How was it possible that no one noticed? 

Vik started working on Kaz's face. "And you know I really love my job and I can't wait to graduate" before he could reply she went on "And most importantly, we need this job. What would we do if for some reason we have to leave the city in any moment? Or if you get seriously injured? Or if you just decide to leave this kind of life. Every time you leave I'm fucking scared for you Kaz" she said the last phrase almost whispering. They not only were in a relationship, but in a raelly serious one. 

"I know, I'm sorry" Kaz moved her hair behind her ear, and cupped her cheek, Vik leaned in while letting out a sigh. "You know, maybe I liked your other job more than this" the boy smirked and she laughed "Oh I bet you did, I was a great dancer, and you tipped very well". Now Jesper was more confused then ever, it didn't make any sense, a dancer? When did Kaz went to places with dancers, on multiple occasions without anyone noticing anything. 

"I just wanted you to notice me, you had something interesting" "That's how they call it now?" she looked at him all innocently . "Let's say that my leg behaved better when you were around, I suspected you were a healer sooner than you think" "You suspected or I let you know?" she winked and Kaz smiled shaking his head. 

"Speaking of, how's your leg? Do you need something?" she was back in her healer/medik tone. "I can survive" Kaz shrugged it off. "Why do you have to be like this" she mumbled for to herself than to him, while placing a hand on his thigh and closing her eyes. Kaz released a breath as the pain receided, closing his eyes too. Vik made a little victory smile before going back to work on his face.

"Nina told me you're going to train her" "Yes, I think that since I'm not with you guys on jobs it's better if she knows a few things more". 

Kaz always said that she was more useful staying at the Slat that being out with them and risking to be injured. And it was a perfectly good reason to leave her safe at home, but now Jesper couldn't stop thinking if there was more. Kaz wouldn't be as focus as the jobs required if he had to worry about his girlfriend. The boy frowned at his own thought, Kaz's girlfriend? What a weird concept. He couldn't wait to tell at least Wylan about everything he was discovering. 

"Well, I think you're all good" Vik looked at her final work all happy, using a bit of her power took away the tiredness that her face betrayed when they woke her up. Kaz's hands were still on her hips, keeping her from turning away. He looked at her with a weird expression "I think you have something here" and then he took a beautiful bracelet from behind her ear. "Oh Saints Kaz! Are you out of your mind? Hey how did you do that?" while she was distracted by the gift he undid a few of her shirt's buttons exposing her collarbone and a generous portion of her cleavage.

"You know they call me Dirtyhands" said Kaz grinning. "Idiot" she whispered tilting her head a bit to let him leave a stray of sloppy kisses down her neck, while she observed the bracelet. In that moment Jesper understood that was his cue to leave, he would absolutely not looked at his boss having sex on the infirmery bed with his secret girlfriend. But, unfortunately for him, his sudden movement didn't went unnotice by Vik, who saw him reflected in the mirror.

"Jesper what are you doing?" the girl pulled away from Kaz and turned away to close her shirt. "Jesper? Were you spying on us?" Kaz's look was terrifying as he walked towards him, shirt still unbottoned, lips still a bit red from her lipstick, surely from some kisses he didn't witnessed. At least he forgot to take the cane, was the only thing Jesper thought while Kaz opened all the door. "Look I really didn't want to hear anything I just wanted something to help me sleep, I just got here"

"And then you decided to stay and listen instead of knocking?" He was furious, and Jesper knew he was kind of right. "I am so sorry, to you too Vik" the girl was still a bit red on the cheeks and was crossing her arms looking more annoyed than mad. "Jes I knew you were a bit weird but really, what were you doing? Would you have stayed there and watch us having sex?" "Oh please don't let me think about Kaz having sex" said the boy massaging his temples, look firmly on the floor.

"So you want to think about me having sex?" replied Vik grinning. Jesper opened his mouth to say something but Kaz cut him off "Can you two stop?" he was becoming all red while Vik was about to cry from her suffocated laugh. "Oh Saints so every time we were talking about sex, the mistery boy was him?" Jesper's expression was the one people generally do when someone make them think about the fact that their parents have sex. "Yes, always" "What did you tell him?" Vik and Kaz talked at the same time, one now openly laughing and the other was becoming a new shade of red.

Kaz was a really private person, and he didn't feel the need to talk to other people about his personal stuff. Especially about how he passed the time with his girlfriend. He was grateful for Vik, because she could tear down his walls effortlessly and he would protect their relationship at every cost. Once the situation calmed a bit and everyone regained their composure, Kaz found a chair to seat, his leg was protesting for standing up without his cane. He passed his hands between his hair a few times before speaking with a more calm tone.

"Jesper I definitely don't want to know why you were behind that door, but you can't tell anyone about us. You know how dangerous it can be if some people discoved this, and trust me, I would come for you if anything happens to her. We've been careful for years and-" "Years? You've been together for years?" "We started dating a month after I started working here. Don't look at me like that, he already knows" Kaz was shaking his head ad rollins his eyes. "Well I think those are too many information for a single night so goodnight" the boy walked towards the door and then came back "But not too good, your room is above mine and these beds-" "Get out."

Part 2

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x fem!reader

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

I’ve been seeing Dead Boy Detectives around a lot lately but I don’t know much about it, so if you want to tell me about it I’m very interested! I’m also curious about the story Came up from that lake of fire. (And I always love to hear about your original work!) 💚

Dead Boy Detectives is a a delightful show about the ghosts of two British teenagers who run a detective agency where they help their fellow spirits tie up any unfinished business so they can move on. It shares a lot of DNA with your classic monster-of-the-week show (I'm one of the 5 people on Tumblr who has never watched a single minute of Supernatural, but I hear a bunch of people who were involved in SPN are also involved in DBD.)

What sets it apart for me personally is the characters. As is typical for Netflix, there are only 8 episodes, which often hurts characterization in these type of plot-heavy shows, but each character seems like a fully fleshed person with their own goals, fears, and rich inner lives. Even characters who would be nothing but comic relief or plot devices on other shows, like the man who is really a cursed walrus or the grumpy goth butcher (my beloved Jenny) are given depth.

Also, the main characters, Charles and Edwin, have an absolutely fantastic relationship. Whether you see them as platonic, romantic, or something in between, they're the most important person in each other's lives and it's really sweet and beautiful.

I highly recommend it (with the caveat that the first episode has lots of clunky dialogue and exposition, especially in the first half. I promise, it gets better.)

Anyway, it's eating my brain and now I can't stop writing fic about it, so here's a snippet of the next chapter of Came up from that lake of fire under the cut!

“You know, Esther is certain to have collected a large variety of magical items during her long life, including books,” Edwin says. “Something in that house is sure to be of assistance during our search for the Deathless.” A woman browsing through a rack of blouses turns to stare at him and Edwin remembers that this isn’t the type of thing a living person can say out loud while standing in the middle of a thrift store. “In that… in that television game we’re playing,” he adds quickly. “I know how you enjoy your television games, Crystal.” “They’re called video games.” Crystal shoves a stack of shirts into his hands. “Here. Someone must have just donated all their grandpa’s clothes. They’re perfect for you.” “You jest, but I’m not impressed by modern fashion.” Edwin studies the shirts with a critical eye. “I am.” Charles emerges from the dressing room, wearing a red t-shirt emblazoned with the name of a musician Edwin has never heard of and a pair of tight-fitting jeans. “What do you think, mate?” Edwin does not look down at the jeans. “Very modern.”

WIP Ask Game

#dead boy detectives #payneland #undead boy detectives au #ghost's writing #ask games