#<(i honestly wasn't really expecting that tag to come up and the fact that it did is very exciting)

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

#osaemu #streamer!gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles

[simpjaes]

how about jealousbf!heeseung who takes you to the empty soundproof vocal rooms and stuffs you full with no mercy after you looked at jay a little too much while they were doing their dance practice

tags: front man heeseung, wannabe groupie reader, he's not her bf !! non idol au, they're just in a band !!

wc: 1k

looking at jay was never an issue until heeseung was looking at you.

who would blame you though? it's not your fault Sunghoon always brought you to band practices. it's not your fault that Heeseung never really paid attention to you before they managed to finesse their way onto a label.

then again, it's not like you knew that Heeseung was always looking. You always seemed to share a gaze between him and everyone else too, so it wasn't really a competitive thing until he noticed you consistently looking at jay more and more.

Hah, always the fucking guitar players too. What do they have that he doesn't? Aside from skilled fingers?

Arguably, Heeseung's fingers are quite skilled too. Just because he's the front man doesn't mean he can't fuck like a guitarist.

So, well, it all really started when you didn't show up. It's rare that you don't, honestly, and all the members seem to miss you when you're not there but man.

Jay sure is a fucking asshole.

"I think she wants me." He joked that one day, nudging Sunghoon and watching them both nod in confirmation that yeah, it's probably true.

"I could take her into one of the soundproof rooms, none of you would even know." he said on that same day, giving Heeseung the idea to do it first.

After all, it's not like he hasn't seen you disappear into sticky bathrooms or dingy band van's at several small town shows with other bands and their members. Why would he be any different? Why would Jay be any different?

Exactly. You're a wannabe groupie and Heeseung is far too willing to feed into your fantasy of fucking a rock star now rather than later.

Jay likes the chase. Heeseung likes the hunt.

And so, that next "practice?" Of course you showed up. Bright eyes, slutty outfit, doe eyes blinking in awe at a bunch of guys who haven't even debuted past a burned CD with shit sound quality? Heeseung approaches you.

Being the front man and all, it's not hard to get you alone as the members take their time doing their own work on the new song. Heeseung's vocals were all finished, and Jay was too wrapped up in his guitar solo recording to notice you eye fucking him again.

"Welcome back, we missed you last time." Heeseung starts in a sweet voice, opening his arms out for a hug.

You kind of quirk your brow at him because, well, you've known the dude for like two years by this point but never has he done more than an awkward side hug while covered in sweat and the scent of musk and alcohol after a show or a hard practice session.

"Oh?" You question, surprised by the grip he holds on you.

"Wanna come with me somewhere?" He asks again, even though the question felt more like a demand in the way he immediately starts dragging you away from the recording studio and into the hallway.

You don't really say much, being more of a go-with-the-flow person than anything. You just shrug, following him into what you obviously know is one of the sound proof rooms they've used previously to practice the noise music.

Working out the kinks of a song doesn't always sound so good, yknow? Nobody really wants to hear that shit til it's ready either.

And it's not like you're stupid or anything. You know what this is, when he steps inside and closes the door behind you. In fact, you're entirely down for it despite not really knowing why the band's front man suddenly wants to be alone with you.

"Hah," Heeseung smirks, watching you already start to slip your shirt off. "I knew it."

You just kind of look at him.

"Well, what else would I expect after being dragged in here?" You ask, pausing your movements and allowing your shirt to fall back into place against your waist.

"I don't know?" He laughs back, rolling his eyes at you briefly before boxing you up against the wall. "Jay?"

You smirk.

"Honestly? Yeah. We've been eye fucking each other for ages." You laugh, brushing Jay off entirely. "Didn't expect you to be the one to come after me."

"Well, if you would have stopped staring at his fingers for thirty seconds maybe you would have noticed it."

"What can I say? He moves fast."

"And you think I would? You've seen what I can do with my tongue, right?"

You pause, noting all those instances during shows where he definitely treated his tongue like some sort of mating ritual. Licking up his microphone, flicking it between his fingers, even going as far as flattening it at multiple city girls that seemed to want a bad boy for the night.

"Don't think I have, actually." You roll your eyes playfully, blinking at him innocently. "Care to elaborate?"

Man, he elaborated.

Without another word, actually. Which was a bit of a shock to you, considering he likes to rasp those vocals all night through song and shrieks. Ah, the sounds are so much different vibrating when his tongue is buried into you, moving faster than you'd have expected.

What's worse? You never really noticed how pretty his vocals could sound until he was muttering out words of degradation towards you. He went in raw, explaining that it's his right. That he should be the first to feel your pussy squeeze him dry. Whispers questions of how many other men have been in you like this. Asking if you've always been this breathless for them. Asking why you're not screaming loud enough for Jay to hear, even through the soundproof room.

In reality, your throat is dry from allowing yourself to be loud for him. Rasping and panting confirmations of his filthy words, only to feel him plunge into you harder, harder, harder. Like a mantra of a song he only wishes he could write.

The proof of having you before Jay could, the proof of fucking you better than anyone else could.

By the end of it all, to Heeseung? Doesn't really matter if every other member of his band has a turn with you know. He's only gonna ask what his dick tastes like. He's only gonna ask if they fucked you cross eyed too. Because he knows the answer will be no.

Why?

Because you keep coming back for more. Up until Jay takes note, mentioning a month later to Sunghoon, right there in front of everyone,

"What's gotten into her? She practically ignores me."

And of course Heeseung smirked, giving him the answer he probably didn't want to hear.

"Me."

#heeseung smut #enha smut #enhypen smut #ask #anon #hardthots

[three-masked-ducks-chugging-hj7]

So, I recently (finally) watched the new version of the puppet rock opera production of Razia's Shadow, and the characters are once again living rent free in my head. So, naturally I wanted to draw my designs for a few of the characters. I may eventually draw the others, but I honestly don't have fully clear designs for any of the other characters.

#razias shadow #<(i honestly wasn't really expecting that tag to come up and the fact that it did is very exciting) #also if anyone in the fandom hasn't seen the new version of the show i'd say check it out #the puppet choreography is a bit less expressive because of the fact that the songs are being performed live #and i think all of the puppets' designs were changed at least slightly if not completely #and for those who are not familiar with razia's shadow i seriously recommend checking it out

[mrsjavierpena]

not (un)expected | part 1

javier peña x f!secretary!reader

summary: Javier has one, only one very strict policy: to not ever fuck a co-worker; specially if that co-worker is his own secretary. but you make it such a hard promise to keep

chapter warnings: narcos' spoilers, smut, grinding, unprotected p in v, kind of exhibitionism, (light?) angst, a lot of cursing (its javier pena), kinda slow burn/slow start, unspecified age gap, work dynamics, reader has no name/descripition (but has hair long enough to pull), no use of 'y/n'

IMPORTANT: English is not my first language, i've done my best with grammar but there will be mistakes (fuck prepositions i hate them), so pls overlook those

wordcount: 7k

an: this is part one of a two part story; feel free to reblog and leave your comment. im so happy with the reception of this fic, its my first time posting something here, thank you guys so much for the support - also, if you want to be tagged in part two (really don't know when is coming out) just lmk in the comments.

hope you enjoy!

Javier was known for being an asshole.

Everyone in the office called him that; not to his face, of course, since he was the boss, but he knew, and honestly? He kind of did it on purpose. Being sent back to Colombia to be the CIA puppy didn't in fact thrilled him, but he also wasn't there to make friends. A little bit later than one month into his new position and Javier had already changed secretaries twice. Just by being himself.

The first one was a kind old lady that liked to talk a little bit too much for Javi's taste - which was none. To be fair, he tried to handle her. He listened to her talking of her yougest child finishing college, but she asked him if maybe he could get him a job at the deparment - what in the actual fuck? -, she felt the need to tell him that her older one and his wife were trying to have a baby - he wondered what gave her the impression he wanted to know that her son was fucking someone raw. She just wouldn't shut up. She left not much after a month, at his first snap - took him too long, to be honest.

The last one was a young man fresh out of the academy, who thanked him for the opportunity every time he saw him - which, since he was just outside his office, was pretty often. Despite how thankful he was for the job, he wasn't very interested in working, at least not as he was to flirting with another secretary in the floor below. But that wasn't the worst part, the kid had no idea what he was supposed to do and would go ask Javier for help for every task given to him - he swore he was shaking everytime. Javi didn't care that he was young and was learning, he didn't receive enough to raise a child at work. Didn't last a week.

Javier had headaches just by the thought of who would be sent next. With his current luck, it could be his ex-fiancée. He definitely didn't expect you knocking on his office door and introducing yourself as his new secretary. He was speechless for a moment; you were the combo of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life with a killing black pencil skirt, so tight it showed all your curves. You gave him a firm handshake and asked if he needed anything from you, and, when he denied, that was it. You went to your desk; didn't ask him questions, didn't tell him your whole life, didn't thank him for an opportunity he didn't give you, just went to do your work.

For a while, Javier was glad that you didn't give him any trouble, but that was until you quickly learned his habits. As soon as he arrived the office, you would receive him with a polite smile, a cup of black coffee and his schedule for the day. When he dove into files and forgot he was a person, you would bring him his lunch and wouldn't leave until he had at least a bite - as if he was a kid, what an absurd -, you would sense when he was stressed and would excuse yourself into his office with coffee and a pack of cigarettes and leave without saying a word.

He hated how much he appreciated that - even worse, how he liked that. It didn't take long for him to want to fuck you, to become obssessed with you. And it wasn't just him, he could see every other men in the department - single or not - turn their neck as they watched you pass by. But it was not just that you were hot, you were nice too; he would watch you from his office - not in a creepy way, though, he just didn't have anything much better to do - and you would distribute smiles and polite greetings to every soul that passed your desk, people would constantly stop by to small talk with you and you would let them be for five minutes or so before politely dismiss them to go back to work. Every fucking body there adored you.

Things had always been very professional between you both. Javi held back his flirty instinct and you- well, you didn't even seem interested in him at all. That was untill a very stressfull friday with Stechner giving him shit again. He left the building straigh to the bar, ready to drown himself on whiskey and find a quick fuck for the night, not expecting at all to find you aparently doing the same. Javier considered just ignoring you and go sitting with one of the women that turned their heads in his direction as soon as he entered, but something inside of him made him take the few steps to the bar and get the stool beside where you sat.

You almost spilled your drink when he approached.

"Sorry" you coughed "Wasn't expecting to see you here"

Your body language told him that you weren't comfortable with him there, he saw your backs getting as straight as when you were at work, and immediately regretted joining you.

"Well, that makes it two of us" he raised his hand to order his drink "What's the occasion?" he points to your drink with his chin.

Your grip on your glass seemed to tighten and you took one very long sip before answering dryly "I could ask you the same"

"Work" he raised his brows "It's always work"

"Did something happen after I left?" you pinched your brows.

"No, no, just people giving me shit"

"Oh, I see..." you sighed and silence fell between you.

"So..."

"Well..." you both started talking together and laughed akwardly.

"You go" you said.

"Am I bothering you? Cause I didn't mean to, I can sit somewhere else" he didn't even know why he was asking, he should've just said goodbye and left. He was already standing when your hand found his arm.

You sighed heavily "No, not at all, I'm sorry I gave that impression, sir" you seemed genuine, that's why he sat back "I'm just stressed"

Sir. Why were you calling him sir in a bar?

"Do you want to talk about it? If there's something bothering you we can discuss it and sol-"

"It's not work related" you were quick to interrupt "Work is, honestly, the simplest part of my life right now"

"Things must be pretty bad then, 'cause I see the amount of papers on your desk everyday" that made you chucke "The offer still stands, if you want to"

You took a big breath before dropping the bomb "Broke up with my boyfriend"

Now that was a new territory. He knew absolutly nothing about your life besides you moving to Colombia from the United States; he didn't know anything from your life back there, not your family, friends, definitely not about your boyfriend; and now, somehow, knowing you didn't have one anymore made it even harder for him not to want you.

"What happened?"

"Well, actually, it seems like we had already broken up a while ago and he just forgot to send the memo" you drank your whole half glass all at once ", since he was fucking every pussy that crossed his fucking way"

He was stunned. One thing about Javier was that he was never to deny any woman; honestly, he found every body attractive and apreciatted every woman that gave herself to him. He couldn't say he had a type, but you, with what he saw with your clothes on? He would fuck you every minute of everyday he could. It was absurd to believe someone would give up on you.

"Damn!" he couldn't help but say loudly, making your eyes go wide as if just then realising what you had just said.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you this. I apologise, sir"

"You don't- don't apologise" he almost raised his hand to touch you, but stopped himself before "How did you find out?" you looked at him with raised brows "If you don't mind me asking"

"One of my friends called me last night and told me. She saw him at a bar with two women" you laughed, but there was no humor to be found.

"And you were still smiling at everyone at work today" he was impressed.

You smirked at him "Don't let my personal life mix with work, sir"

"Smart woman" he nods "We for sure have a reason to drink, then" waving his hand to the barman "Let me buy you one"

You don't even bother to refuse.

After three more glasses of what he found out was tequila, your shoulders were much more relaxed and so was your tongue. He found out that you and your ex had been dating for six years when you got the opportunity of job and had to move; two months had passed already.

"And you know what the worst part is?" your laugh is dry "I don't even feel bad because my heart is broken or any shit like that, it's just that is so fucking humiliating" you groaned with your hands on your face "I'm from a small town, you know, by now every soul there knows what he's been doing"

He had to laugh "That's what you're worried about?" you looked at him with false ofense.

"It's my honor we're talking about here!" he laughed even more "It's silly, I know..." you sigh shakly as you take another sip of your drink "But it is humbiling, being cheated on"

"I can't fucking believe anyone could ever cheat on you" he thought. At least he thought he did, but by the way you were looking at him - pinched brows and a curious look in your face, he had to have said it out loud "I mean, only shitty people cheat on nice people. Only shitty people cheat, that's it."

You nodded after a few seconds of silence "You're right, sir"

"You should stop calling me sir"

"I don't think so"

"Why not? We're already half drunk together at a shitty bar"

"Because you're still my boss"

Without any response to that, he looks at you. Really looks at you. Your eyes glassy from the alcohol, red puffy lips looking more appealing than ever... It would have been so easy to just lean in and kiss you. When his eyes came back to yours, it almost seemed like they were on his lips too, that you were leaning in too, that you desired him as much as he desired you and... Then it was not there anymore. Suddenly, you seemed farther than ever, backs as streight as always and eyes avoiding his.

"I should go home"

He agreed. He put you on a cab. He wished you a goodnight.

Then went back to the bar to find someone to not spend the night alone.

The next Monday, though, you seemed even more professional than ever. Wouldn't be around him more than the necessary, wouldn't look him in the eyes and it fucking bothered him.

"Yes, sir?" you entered his office after he called your name.

He sighs as he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering to your skirt pressing against your tights "How are you?"

"I'm fine" you hesitated "Why do you ask? Is something wrong?"

"Lying to me, 's all" your eyes went wide "Listen, last night-"

Your nostrils flared, your hands clenching into fists; you took a deep breath before interrupting him "I am fine"

"Ok, then" he raised his hands in defensiveness "It's just that last night-"

"Last night I was drunk!" you passed your hands through your face "I said things I shouldn't have and I am embarressed and would very much appreciate if we pretended that it never happened"

Javier was silent for a moment. He understandood your apprehension, but damn if he wasn't dismayed by it.

"Alright, 'm sorry I brought it up. But just to let you know, you don't have anything to be embarressed for, you have my word that I wouldn't hold any if that against you and..." and it was nice to talk to you "Yeah, don't worry about that"

You looked at him for a few seconds before nodding "You need anything else, sir?"

Many things, yeah. For starters, you calling him by his name; second, being able to have a casual conversation with you when alcohol isn't envolved and third, your fucking clothes off because he got embarrassingly hard just by looking at you. But instead, he only denied and you left before any other word could leave his mouth.

Javi knew it was for the best. Fucking you would be no good - well, he'd bet it would be hot as shit, but too much trouble for a one night stand. He had a whole city to fool around with, to be focused in someone from his work place, his own secretary, was nonsense. You never even gave him any hint you wanted him, if anything, the actual opposite; you told him yourself last night, personal life away from work.

Javi made sure to remember all that.

➫

He didn't keep those thoughts for long, though.

A few days later, you met at a bar once again. A better one this time and with half of the office joined. It was Feistl's birthday and he invited the whole department for drinks. Nobody could hide their surprise when Javi aproached them; usually, he wouldn't attend this type of gathering, in his rarely free times, he better prefered the company of a good whiskey and a woman, and his colleagues knew that. His employee had invited him just to be polite and that was clear, but he knew you were going to be there, Javi just wanted one more opportunity to prove to himself that you didn't feel the same way he did, that he didn't have the same effect on you that you had on him. Once that prooved, he could move on. So he was there on a mission, trying to be the most discrete he could as he watched you from afar.

The two of you seemed to be the reflexion of each other from across the table, tense bodies and drinks in hand, the only difference being you talking with your colleagues and him not making the effort. To his defense, people weren't trying to talk to him either. Honestly, Javier kind of felt like it wasn't just that they were surprised to see him there, it felt like they didn't want him there at all by some looks he was receiving.

He was okay with that, he guessed, he would much rather analyse your behavior outside work. You didn't seem to change much, honestly; maybe your smile were a little bit more genuine, but the conversations were pretty much the same he heard you have back in the office and it could have been the larger amount of alcohol in your system that night, yeah, but you seemed more relaxed alone with him.

After half an hour there, Javi couldn't bring himself to talk to you, you seemed too interested in a conversation about the new coffee pot in the scullery with another secretary. He was getting frustrated, in another times he would interrupt the other woman and flirt with you effortlessly; it probably had to do with the environment, you were surronded by co-workers, or maybe he was losing his touch - it was almost like he was too afraid to make the move.

Javi decided to leave soon after one hour there. He congratulated Feistl for his birthday, said goodbye to whoever recognized his leaving, paid his bill and passed through the door.

"Hey" he turned around at the sound of your voice, seeing you walking towards him "Are you ok?"

He ran his hand over his chin "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know" you shrugged "you kind of ran out of the bar"

"'S fine, you should go back inside" Javi pointed at the entrace with his chin.

You tilt your head to the side "I don't really believe you"

"I'm not asking you to" he crossed his arms "And, what, you wanna talk now? You've been quiet at work all week"

"We're not at work, though, are we?" you were quick to answer.

Javi looked you up and down "No, we're not"

"You know" you took a few steps forward ", it's not like they don't like you, they are just kind of scared of you"

Were you watching him too? Why would you say that? How would you notice?

He furrowed his eyebrows "Scared of me? Why?"

You looked at him with yours raised "You know how you act at work, don't you?"

Javi sighed and looked away. He did act like an asshole at work, it didn't seem to bother you, though. Your gazes met again as silence fell between the two of you and he decided to take the few steps left to get you as close as you never got before.

"Are you scared of me?"

You kept your eyes locked as you answered "No. You're not as bad as you think you are" you licked your lips "At least not with me"

The air thickend between the two of you, the only sound being the noises of a night in Colombia. There was no way you were not feeling that too, the way your bodies seemed to linger to each other's direction. He's sure he's not imagining the way your breath heaved, how your chest expansed, the brightness in your eyes.

No, that was real, he was not mistaking it.

A voice broke the tension, you taking a few steps back to a safe distant from him. You both looked in the direction of the sound: a woman was calling you, the same woman you talked all night, at the entrance of the bar, a few feet away from where the both of you stood.

"Maybe if you went back there and paid the next round..." he swore he saw expectancy in your eyes.

"Maybe another time" you nodded; you both knew it wouldn't happen.

You looked at him one last time before walking away "Good night, sir"

Javi nodded even though you weren't looking anymore and his eyes followed the sweet swing of your hips as you made your way back to the bar. He could hear the woman asking what it was about:

"Nothing" you answered.

He would disagree.

➫

Javier was in a terrible, terrible mood. Things weren't going how he thought they would go, not even close to it. Feistl got a good lead about the Rodriguez brothers, one worth following, and he could do nothing about it; had to look to his subordinate and say no to his face. In the beggining, Javi had plans on reediming himself by catching Los Pepes, making amends with the city and it's people by arresting those who he felt like helped to ascend. He felt like a failure, and by the look on Feistl face, he thought so too. To worsen everything, as if it could get any, he had a huge, massive amount of piles to go through.

He lifted his eyes from the paper for the first time in hours when you knocked at the door. He knew your shift had ended a couple of hours ago, but you decided to finish the paperwork of the day so it wouldn't affect his own work the next morning, even though you couldn't have finished it on time because of the extra work put over you. It was something he frequently saw you doing, leaving much later than the others.

"I am leaving, sir. Is there something I could do for you?"

He scratched his chin and sighed heavily "Well, if you could make this fucking paperwork disappear I would built a statue of you"

You exiled a short laugh "I'm afraid that's not possible, sir"

"No, it's not" he reclined on his chair and looked at your body on the frame for a few seconds "Have a goodnight"

You nodded and left. He stood up to get a drink right after, hearing some noises outside that must have been you grabing your stuff. You were probably the last person on the floor besides him, and soon enough he would be alone, like he had been for so many nights, working until late, only able to go home to shower and come back. It wasn't much trouble, though, it's not like he could sleep even if he had the time.

A soft knock on the door surprised him, glass and bottle on each hand.

"Sorry to bother again" you said with only your head in the room after he told you to come in "But do you want help?"

He looked at you, at the pile and then at you again "You wanna help me with that?" you nodded "Why?"

"Nothing better to do" you shruged.

He should've said no. Should've told you to go home and have some rest.

He should have, yes.

"Have a sit" he pointed to the couch with the piles of papers he's been on for the last three hours.

You closed the door behind you and something on his skin tingled. You had never been this alone.

"Want a drink?" you didn't hesitate in accepting, as if waiting for him to offer.

Javier poured you one too and handed you the glass, something you thanked him for as you took a sip and he sitted beside you. You two stayed in silence reading, the only sound being the papers as you tossed them around.

"Can I give you an unasked opinion, sir?"

He almost laughed at that "Go ahead"

"You're separating these by topics, I see" he nodded "Taking one paper at the time and seeing what they are and then doing them separetly " he nodded again "I think it would be quicker if we made piles by the specific topics you have"

"You mean..."

"I mean" suddenly you stood up from the couch and knelt on the floor. Fortunally you didn't see his eyes going wide as you took a pile in your hands and put it beside you "You have a huge office, you should put the files on display and organize them better" you looked at him while taking the other piles "You helping?"

He smirked and hushed to help you. He liked this side of you; more relaxed, kind of bossy, tongue more loose... It was a shame you only showed him when there was alcohol running through your system.

"This, if you don't mind me saying, is how I organize the piles on your desk when I bring them to you, but you seem to prefer the hardest way"

Fuck, he was getting hard.

It was nuts. Absolutly nuts. What the fuck was happening, what effect was that you had on him? You did nothing but say a few dirty words without intention. Completely. Nuts.

"I do prefer the hard way" came out of his mouth before he could control it. If you didn't notice the double meaning or chose to ignore it, he didn't know "But I never noticed, no" he sighed "Honestly, I don't even know how it got to this point"

The paperwork, somehow, did accumulate, even though all he did of his life was working.

"I understand, I can see how you get lost in work" your focus was on the papers and you didn't seem to notice how he shifted on his place on the floor, trying to hide the beggining of an erection.

With your efficiency and new way of working, one hour and a half later and almost the whole paperwork gone, you're on your third glass and him on his fourth. He's used to drinking whiskey, but it was still alcohol, and it was making his skin buzz. You had already took off your blazer - his own gone hours ago - , wearing a thin blouse with a very modest neckline; your legs were crossed, making your skirt move up a little, and he was going crazy with just the tiny amount of skin you were showing.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead" you didn't even move your eyes from the paper.

"Why didn't you go home?"

You don't talk for a few seconds and he took the opportunity to stare "There's nothing waiting for me at home"

That got him thinking about your moving there. To go from a small town in the countryside to a city like Bogotá, not knowing a soul; you had acquaintances, yes, but he saw you that day at the bar, they surely were people you liked to be with, but were not friends of yours. Javi had been there, too, actually, if he would be honest with himself, he was still in the same situation. When he moved to Medellín, he had those people he could go out with and grab a drink after work, but that was all; at least until Steve came into the picture, the person he never thought he would befriend with, the only real friend he'd had in years.

"Yeah, I kind of get that" your eyes meet "Work until late for a reason"

"I guess we both need to get a life, then" you smirked.

"Cheers to that" he raised his glass to you, you did the same until it clicked with his "So, life... How is yours going?" he tried to act nonchalant by moving his eyes on the paper in his hand "With that ex-boyfriend thing and all"

Your laugh was low "Don't do that"

"Do what?" he raised his eyes again to find yours still on him.

You tilted your head to the side "Don't go down that road when we're like this"

"Like what?" he caught the exact moment your eyes fell to his lips, so he casually wet them with his tongue. If he wasn't so absorbed by the thickness in the air, he would have laughed at the way your eyes shut and your head fell back to rest on the couch.

"Drunk and... Not thinking straight"

Javi raised his eyebrows "I like the winding thoughts I'm having, though"

"Yeah" the look you gave him made him shiver.

Without breaking eye contact, Javi belted down his drink to gain courage and slowly moved his body until you were pressed side by side, giving you time to get your space again if you wanted to.

"This fine?" his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

You nodded.

"What if I wanted to kiss you right now?" he rested one forearm on the couch to lean his face closer to yours.

You gulped as you stared into his eyes "Then I think you should do it before we-"

He didn't give you the time to finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. Your lips were soft, he could taste the whiskey on your tongue as well with the gums you would chew all day. His right hand went straight to your jawline to lead the kiss. It was not a lulled kiss, neither a gentle one, Javier was ruthless, taking out on your lips all the built up tension from the last few months. He couldn't believe it was finally happening. You were quick to follow his pace, your fingers grasping his shirt and pulling him even closer. The first moan you let out get Javi even more eagered, his hand passing down your body to grab your ass. You took advantage of his action and, before he knew, you were climbing up his lap, knees on each side of his torso, and once you were fully sitted on his lap, you both couldn't contain a moan. At that point, your skirt barely covered half your ass; because of that, he figured that you wouldn't mind his hands slowly rubbing up your tights until they reached the fabric and rolled it up your waist.

Javi parted your mouths to take a good look at you on his lap, his eyes wandered from your heavy eyelids, your lips puffy and red from the kisses, your blouse-covered chest raising and falling as fast as his until they got to the black thong you were wearing and he couldn't help but moan "Oh, fuck me"

"You like them?" your mouth came down his neck to give him wet kisses.

"How wouldn't I?" he held you by the nape of the neck and brought your mouths together again "I've wanted this for so long"

You released some kind of laughter "I know"

"Oh, do you?" he raised his brows.

"You're not exactly subtle for an agent" you murmured between kisses.

He snorts "Well, thanks for the insight"

Javi couldn't resist the urge to touch you through the tiny piece of fabric and you moaned at the pressure at your clitoris, but he moaned too at the wetness he found.

Javi didn't ask you how long you had wanted him, you were grinding on his lap at that moment and that was all that mattered. But he wished you had said it, that you had desired him as much as he had desired you, that all this time he had been imagining this moment, you were imagining it too.

"Fuck baby, you are so wet already" his tongue licked a stripe on your neck "All this for me?"

You answer was muffled by a moan; it seemed positive, but before he could confirm you were linking your mouths again in a searing kiss.

You started moving your hips on his erection and you both moaned at the pressure. Suddenly, his torso is being pushed down to the ground, chests pressed against each other, your fingers tangled his hair and pushed and he fucking whimpered.

Jesus Christ, he was in heaven and was not even inside of you yet.

You grinded furiously against him and he found it absolutly beautiful how you were using him to pleasure yourself and was not embarressed to do so. So. Fucking. Hot.

He felt like he was coming in any second.

"Fuck, you keep doing that and will have me cumming on my fucking pants, bebita"

"Oh, say it again!"

"What? That I'm within seconds to cumming?"

You moaned loudly at that "No- I mean, that too, that's hot, but- oh fuck"

"Bebita?" he felt you shiver at the pet name and chuckled "You like that, huh?"

You grabbed the nape of his neck and lowered your head to crush your lips to his again, tongues fighting heatedly. Javi started to feel that heat boiling at the bottom of his stomach, his hips grinded against yours and the pressure were just perfect; by the sounds you were making, you were as close as he was. Javi reached for you ass and grabbed it with both of his hands and squeezed, adding even more pressure to the grindness. At last, he sucked the pulse in your neck and you started to shake above him; that combined with the sweet noises that came out of you, he was gone.

You collapse on top of him, fingers unconsciously running through his hair; his members were sore and he was so tired and satisfied that he could sleep right there. The both fo you took deep breaths while your head rested on the gap of his neck and his on the floor.

"I can't remember the last time I did this" he was the first to break the silence.

"I actually do this everyday to my pillow" you mumbered humurously and he moaned.

"Shit, you're gonna be the death of me" his hand ran up and down from your ass to your backs, loving the feeling of your curves.

You raised your head to find his eyes and the moment was gone. You both realizing what you just had done, the before contentedness in him that was mirrowed in your eyes then turning into panic.

"Shit" you clumsly stood up. You put your skirt down as quickly as you could.

"It's getting late" it was already late when you came to his office "I should go" you should stay, he wanted to say.

But instead he only nodded. He knew it was for the best. He shouldn't have let it come this far.

You quickly get your stuff and wishes him a goodnight. His eyes don't leave you until you pass through the door, yours, though, don't meet him once.

He stayed there on the floor, cum staining his pants, and even though he was fully clothed, the room had never felt colder.

➫

The next day was pure craziness. After you left his office, Javi went home, took a shower and lied in bed thinking of what had just happened between the two of you and what would happen from then on until he had to come back to work. Before he could even get to his office, you intercepted him with a cup of coffee and the news of a surprise and excruciating slow meeting with the ambassador, which led to another one with the CIA and then the atrocious combination of them both together. By the time Javi was freed from hell, everybody else were already leaving; due to your situation, he thaught that would be your case too, so he was surprised to see you still on your desk.

"I was waiting to see if you would need something else from me before I left" was your answer to the question on his face.

"I think I'm heading home too, actually" after a day like that, he felt like maybe he could even get some sleep.

He had work to do, yeah, and usually it didn't matter to him if his mind wasnt in the right place - it rarely was anyways -, but he knew nothing productive would result from working in that state. Javi also wanted to talk to you; he had so many thing in his mind, what he thought about during that whole previous night: he wanted you. So bad he didn't even know how to express it, so much he let himself cum in his pants just to get the little you were wailing to give to him. And he was concerned about what your reaction to that would be, because it was obvious that you wanted him too, but your actions showed him that you didn't want to want him. All those thoughts were consuming him, but it would have to wait for another day, he didn't think that was the right time, not at work. Maybe he could invite you for drinks and talk things through or-

"I was wondering if we could talk, too" you interrupt his thoughts "About yesterday"

If Javi wasn't a trained professional, he probably would've had his mouth opened in absolut shock. It was like you read his mind.

"Of course" you both looked around the department, the couple people remaining already preparing to leave. Still, he opened his office door and nodded for you to come in.

You were flustered, nervous even. Javi didn't know what to expect from that talk, he wished you would cave in to your needs and fuck him already, but he felt like you wouldn't be easy on him. Honestly, he couldn't read you.

The both of you stood akwardly in the middle of the room, door closed behind you. He waited patiantly for you to start talking, for you to take the lead of the conversation.

"So" you sighed "I wanted to apologise"

His face contorted in a deep frown "What for? You have nothing to apologise"

"I do, yes" you shook your head "It was completely irresponsible and unprofessional and we shouldn't have done that"

If you said you were embarressed last time, about the things you had said on the bar, Javi didn't know what you could possibly be feeling at that moment: your face was getting red, your eyes wouldn't meet his, your hands squeezed each other in your front; he kind of felt bad he was the cause of your discomfort.

"You didn't do anything by yourself"

"I jumped on you like a crazy-ass-horny woman!" over your shoulder, you look outside to see if there was anyone to witness your voice raising; there wasn't.

Javi could barely contain the smirk forcing itself upon his mouth at the memory of you riding him in that very same floor, just a few steps from where you stood. He really couldn't contain the beggining of an erection, though.

"And I loved that" you looked at him as if he was crazy for saying it "I did!" he took a few steps in your direction "And honestly, if anyone should be blamed it's me, I'm the boss, aren't I? The authority in the room or some shit like that"

The way you look at him said that you agreed, that he should be blamed too, should've had more self control, but you didn't say it and that made him smile, the way you still tried to keep your composure at work.

You sighed "Still, it wasn't right and I'm sorry"

"I'm not" he took another step towards you.

"It's not the point, sir"

"I don't think you are that sorry either" your brows raised in surprise "And fucking quit calling me 'sir' now, there's just us in here" another step.

"I'm just-" you shrugged "I'm trying to be professional, that's all"

"Baby we're a little too late for that now"

"Jesus Christ" you pinched the bridge of your nose, he could feel the frustration exhaling from you "You don't like to make things easy, do you?"

"What's the fun in that?" the joke landed flat "I have a proposal"

That got your attention "I don't think I like where this is going"

"Well, that's the thing" he took one more step "I think you do. You fucking grinded on me on this floor until we both came. You want me. What are you so afraid of?"

"You're my fucking boss!" your exasperation made him want to laugh and scream out of frustration at the same time "I like this job, I want to keep it"

"I would never put your job in risk"

"You can't be sure" it was true, Javi barely had a say in anything, but he would do anything in his power for you not to lose your job, especially because of him "And even if this" you pointed between the two of you "didn't make me lose it, it would be living hell if people found out"

"I can be discreet"

You crossed your arms "You're not taking me seriously"

"I am, I promise that I am" he really was "I just- You gave me a taste of what it would look like and now I'm starving for more" he scratched his chin, a little embarressed he let that slip out "I would do anything to have you for one night, we don't have to take work to the bedroom"

"Oh" you snorted "there's a bedroom in the scene now?"

"What?" he raised his brows "You thought I was fucking you in my office?" you went silent "You fucking did"

Javi is no romantic man, he thought about fucking you in every place possible, in the bathroom there, against the nearest wall, but when truly thinking about taking you, it would always be in a bedroom, somewhere you both would be able to take your time.

"Do you fantasize about it?" a step closer "Do you touch yourself thinking about me?" your eyes wouldn't meet his, so he carefully took your chin and angled your head until they did "Where?"

You gulped "Where what?"

"Where did you imagine?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Your desk"

"Fucking dirty woman" he smirked "I'm gonna fuck you on my desk, bebita" he took you by the waist, colliding your body to his "And on my couch" his nose traveled from your cheek to your neck "On the fucking window so eveyone can see how pretty you will look with my cock deep inside of you"

"Shit" your voice broke, breathless.

"Do you want it? Huh? To be full of my cock?" you nodded "I want words"

"Yes" you puffed.

"Yes what?"

You looked at him with a defiant look "Yes, sir"

He had to laugh "You are the worst"

His lips collided with yours with so much fierceness he was surprised they didn't start bleeding. His hands were all over your body, your breasts, your back, your ass. You pulled his hair with both hands and he moaned. Javi wanted you so bad it hurt. He decided to be bold and lifted you skirt to your waist, then placed you sitted on the edge of his desk, each of your legs on each side of his hips, pushing everything that was on your way to the floor, paying no attention to anything that wasn't you.

"I hate how you kiss me" you mumbled frustrated between kisses and he pinched his brows.

"You have a very distinct way to hate things"

"You just do it so well" your hands covered his cheeks "Makes me want to do this everyday"

Javi couldn't help but to smirk "I don't see why we can't"

"Yes, you do"

"All I see is a gorgeous woman with tasteful lips" he reached your covered mound and passed a finger through your folds, making you moan loudly ", wet lips" he smirked "telling me she wants to kiss me foverer"

You snorted "I didn't say that"

"That's what I heard"

"You are so cocky" you rolled your eyes.

"Damn right I am" Javi pressed his erection to your thigh.

"Yeah, I felt it yesterday" your hands went to unbuckle his belt, quickly reaching for his cock through his underwear and pumping him a couple of times "You're big, sir"

Javi moaned and threw his head back, enjoying the feeling, barely believing it was finally happening. You put down every piece of cloth in your way to his thighs, put your own panties to the side and started to guide him to your entrance.

"You think is gonna be that easy?" he murmured in your ear, dodging his dick to press on your clit instead, making you moan at the contact, but also groan out of frustration.

"After all this time, it should be"

"You know what I want to hear, baby" he peppered kisses on your neck while still grinding his dick from your clit to your entrance, you were so wet he knew you would have no difficulty to take him.

"Put this thing inside of me, already" you tried to move your hips to get more friction, frustration consuming you.

Even though Javi had a purpose of you to stop calling him 'sir', he could barely hold himself from sliping inside of you, so that's what he did. Your moan as he slowly made space for him inside of you will forever be in his mind. Javi cursed under his breath as your walls squeezed him and he had to take a moment to absorb the feeling. So warm, so wet, so tight, he was in heaven. But you were impatiant.

"Please, move"

"Say my name and I will"

"Why are you so attached to this?" you pinched your brows.

He did the same "Why are you so against saying it?"

You licked a stripe on his neck "To piss you off"

"That's okay" he smirked "You don't have to say it, I'm gonna make you scream it" he held your legs and roughly pushed inside expecting to hit your special place; by the way you gasped and grabbed him, he got it just right "Found it"

Javi ran his nose through your neck and your skin bristled "You're so sensitive here, aren't you, bebita?"

"I'm starting to think that you make me sensitive everywhere"

He laughed and stopped his movements again "Now that's a confession"

"What can I say?" you huffed "It seems like you make my mind go blank when you have your huge dick inside of me and won't. fucking. move"

He laughed and started to slowly take it out just to push it in again at the same speed.

"You're gonna fucking kill me" you whined "Please, faster"

"Are you needy, baby?" he licked your neck "I can feel you squeeze me. You're desperate for my cock, huh?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what?

"Yes, sir"

He increased the speed and you moaned louder "Unbelievable" his hips were reletless and he felt you getting tighter and tighter "You're almost there, aren't you, baby?" you couldn't speak, mouth half opened and nails digging into the skin of his arm "You like it rough, don't you?"

Then he stopped.

"What the fuck?" your voice is hoarsed.

"I'm fucking you slow, baby, is that a crime?" his smile was smudge

"You're evil" you whined, hips moving to find relief.

"I am evil? Who are you to talk about evil? You're fucking teasing me here, bebita. That's so wrong" he started to move slowly again "Just say my name and I'll let you cum"

You nodded your head no.

"Say it"

"No"

"Fucking say. It." he changed the angle to repeatedly hit that spot inside of you and pulled your hair until your back arched.

"Oh my God, Javi!" you screamed as you came hard on his dick, eyes closed tight, mouth opened and body tremblimg.

His name coming out of your mouth was like music to Javi's ears, and hearing it for the first time fomented something insane inside of him. He licked his thumb and pressed it hard against your clit, your eyes widened in surprise and he got a strangled sound out of your mouth as you came again, your body violently shaking under his hands.

"Oh shit, that's it, baby. You're fucking milking me. Shit, shit, shit."

His name was now floating through your lips like a hymn, and he loved to hear it.

"I'm gonna cum"

His words seemed to wake you from your trance "On my mouth"

"Shit" he steped away and out of you and one second later you were on the floor, knelt before him. You grabbed his dick with one hand, put the tip in your mouth and that's all it took for him to cum the hardest he had in his life. You sucked it, greedy until he had nothing more to give you "Let me see it, baby" he asked with a hoarsed voice, asking you to open your mouth, showing that you had swalloed it all "Fucking dirty woman"

You smirked and rested your forehead on his thigh, exausted.

"Come 'ere" he took your hand on his and got you to your feet, holding you against him by your waist "Can you walk?"

"I think I can learn how to do it again, yeah" he chuckled.

Javi lowered your skirt before sitting you on his desk again "How are you getting home?" he asked quietly as he slowly buttoned up your blouse, trying not to startle you and have you running away again.

"I'm taking a cab" you more gently than not stopped his fingers to continue the work yourself.

"Let me take you home" he fished your panties from the floor and put it in his pocked as he wore his pants again

"You don't have to"

"I know I don't. But I'm kind of worried if you will be capable to support yourself for enough time to call a cab after I fucked you this good"

You released the louder chuckle he had ever heard you give as you stood up "You're the absolute worst, Javier."

He started to get hard to the sound of his name on your lips.

"See? Perfectly stable" one of your eyebrows was raised and all he wanted to do was to kiss your attitude away.

"I guess I'll have to fuck you harder next time, then"

"I guess"

You both went quiet as you made your way out of the building and to his car, you only speaking to give him instructions to get to your place.

"There will be a next time, right?" he spoke as you left the car.

How silly of him to think that fucking you once would be enough, would make all the consuming desire go away, if something, it only made him want you more.

You took your time to look at him, as if staring directly to his soul and gave him a small smile.

"Good night, Javi"

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javi pena #javier pena narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier pena secretary #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #zaddy pedro #pedrohub #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

[izzywantscheesecake]

leo valdez x female reader!! dating headcanons *blows kiss*

Dating Leo Valdez Headcanons!

Pairing: Leo Valdez x Fem!Reader Fandom: Camp Half-Blood Chronicles/Heroes of Olympus Quick Synopsis: Just some paragraphs headcanons on how you and Leo would meet/what dating him would be like. Tags: Use of Y/N, Fluff, no specific physical description of the reader (other than the fact they're female coded), Comfort

HOW YOU TWO WOULD MEET I imagine Leo to be someone who looks for a person he's able to have a lot of common ground with in a relationship. Of course, he's able to crack jokes (even the not so funny ones) around practically everyone, but there's a difference between small banter and just full on being able to vibe with someone. I think he'd be very attracted to someone interested in the arts, or someone who likes to make their own things as a mean of self expression in general. We all know how Leo is in terms of self confidence - he'd like a person who is unapologetically them, proud of their art and self expression and someone who has enough emotional awareness to give him reassurance in a relationship when they can sense he needs it. You guys would probably first meet at some type of event or workshop, or if you're a camper, probably at the dining pavilion when he sees you and has to do a double take because "who is that cool girl I've never seen before?" he'd muster enough confidence to come up and tell you a corny joke, stumbling on his words, which makes you laugh.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

You looked up from your feet, now practically face to face with this guy you'd never seen before. His clothes were wrecked with dirt and debris, so were his gloves.

He was standing awkwardly, and his hands, clearly shaking, were clenched into tight fists.

"Sure?"

"So um, riddle me this. Why can't you hear a pterodactyl going to the bathroom?"

"Because pterodactyls went extinct 65 million years ago?"

His eyes widened, and a red tint began to become more visible around his face as he scratched his head, messing up his already tangled locks of hair.

"Oh.. That wasn't what I was going to say," He chuckled.

You smiled, suddenly feeling a warm aura coming from this boy.

"Well, what were you going to say?"

"Because, uh.. The P is.. Damn, whatever. My name's Leo. What's yours?"

ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS He was awkward at the start of the relationship, not really knowing what to say or what exactly "being a boyfriend" entails, but once he starts getting comfortable and more confident around you, that's where the fun begins (yes this is a star wars reference) Expect every Spanish nickname to be pulled out of the book. "Mi amor," "Hermosa," "Bonita," "Mi vida," "Corazón," if it exists in the Spanish language, he's most definitely said it. And he won't skip out on variations of your preferred name, or even silly sounding nicknames in public, like: "pookie" and "sugarplum" or some other stupidness. For dates, I believe he'd very much vary between educational and immersive dates and just straight up goofing off. It honestly depends on the season. Late Fall/Winter is for going to museums, workshops, possibly a joint coding class or hanging together in one of your rooms, and Spring/Summer is for exploring the town and having those cute little boardwalk + beach + ferris wheel dates. (I also imagine him to be somewhat clumsy and he WOULD drop ice cream all over the pavement.) As the son of Hephaestus, he is most definitely a human radiator. Definitely had a lot of fever scares just because of his temperature alone. But don't worry, he's fine. And the heat is an extra bonus if you're cuddling. Speaking of cuddling and physical proximity, Leo's love languages are gift-giving and physical touch. It doesn't matter if you guys have been apart for 2 minutes or 2 days, if he hasn't seen you in a little bit, he will greet you with one of those spin around hugs or a kiss on the hand. And for gift giving, he enjoys giving and receiving gifts. He likes to either make you little trinkets, or make/buy your favorite foods. He is a firm believer of giving his lady princess treatment, even on a dollar store budget. Though he wouldn't consider himself much of a photographer, I think he probably enjoys taking lots of pictures of you, both with and without him. It's to savor the moment, and also because he wishes he could've taken more pictures with his mother when she was still alive. He has a photo album of just you, him, and the adventures you two go on. You're not a stranger to pranking by him, by the way. If anything, he probably pranks you the most, out of love. You'll chase him down for a few hours, and he gets a thrill out of it knowing you won't stay mad at him forever. In conclusion, dating Leo can be rocky, calming, and give you a whirlwind of emotions, similar to how being on a floating trireme would feel.

A/N: I'm going to be real I never really paid much attention to Leo in the books, so I'm hoping this is accurate?? my bad if it isnt gang 🙏🏽🙏🏽

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo percy #pjo/hoo #riordanverse #rick riordan #leo valdez #son of hephaestus #leo valdez x reader #leo x reader pjo #percy jackson fanfic #leo valdez fluff #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez x fem reader #izzy loves cheesecake!! 🎀

[theghostofsoap]

No Force on this Earth (Could Keep Me From You)

Fandom: Call of Duty x Star Wars

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley/John "Soap" MacTavish

Rating: Teen +

Tags: implied torture, force bonds, blood mention, angst, hurt/comfort

Notes: this fic was massively inspired by @felixeis003 and some lovely CoD x Star Wars art they did of Ghost and Soap <33 it truly got the hamster wheel in my mind going

(Check out the art here!!!)

Soap wasn't sure how long he'd been here. He and Gaz had been together on assignment to investigate a moon where a particularly strong force signature had pinged recently. There was suspicion that a Sith artifact was located there and they wanted to make sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands.

Unfortunately, the entire thing had been a trap. He was pretty sure Gaz had managed to make it out when he'd dove into a swarm of droids. The last thing he remembered was seeing the familiar face of Count Dooku before falling unconscious.

Ever since then, he'd been kept in a cell. A few times he'd been poked and prodded. He wasn't sure what they wanted with him, but the combination of minimal food and the Force suppression collar around his neck was making the time tick by like molasses. Most of the time he meditated while trying to overhear any speck of information that he could, which wasn't much.

The sheer emptiness of it all was almost worse. Maybe they were trying to drive him mad with silence and isolation.

He just had to hope that Gaz was coming back with a rescue party. He wasn't even 100% sure if he was still on the same moon. The only thing he could see from his confinement was the metal-lined hallway and the empty cells beside him.

During his fourth rest cycle, he heard footsteps down the hallway. He did his best to keep calm, taking in slow, steadying breaths. The person who came around the corner was a face he hadn't seen in a while.

The dark cloak swished out behind them as they came to a halt. The smirk on their face was the same one Soap remembered from the few times they were in lessons together.

"Well Phillip, you certainly weren't who I was expecting to see today." He drawled.

"After all these years and they couldn't quite beat the snark out of you could they? And that's Darth Gravis to you," Phillip replied.

Soap snorted. "Really? Darth Gravis? I'm sorry, but I'm nae gonna take you very seriously when I still remember you tripping into the fountain during our forms."

Phillip's eyebrow ticked, but otherwise he kept his face a mixture of arrogant and angry. "When I heard they'd gotten their hands on you, I told them isolation wasn't going to work. But I needed time to get here and I wanted to make sure I was the first one to get my hands on you John." He tilted his head and two droids opened up the cell. The smirk on his face grew as he took a step forward. Soap just stayed in his lotus position.

"By the time I'm done with you, we'll see how seriously you take me."

It had started simple, things Soap had expected. His ribs were bruised and each breath came out with a slight wheeze, but he could take it.

The harder part was the intrusions. Being cut off from the force while feeling someone else's slimy, icher of a presence oozing through his thoughts and tearing down his walls was agonizing. He held in his screams the best he could, making his tongue bleed in the process.

"All those feelings and you're still in the precious Order, huh? Do you think that big bastard actually cares for you that way?" Gravis drawled one time as Soap was hunched over on the floor, trying to catch his breath as blood trickled out of his nose. 

"I watched the footage, you know. We keep most footage of the 'important experiments.' It'd be almost admirable that he isn't dark if it weren't for the fact that he's just so weak. You should've seen him. Pathetic honestly the way he-"

Not many things had gotten to Soap, but with his shields already low and his emotions in fray, hearing him talk about him that way made Soap snap. He lunged forward, slamming himself into Gravis's legs. With his hands still bound behind him, there wasn't much he could do before the droids grabbed him and threw him back against the other wall.

Gravis laughed as he stood up and dusted himself off. "My my, got you riled up didn't I?" He spit to the side. "Let's see if you're just as pathetic as he is."

------------

Ghost hadn't felt Soap in 5 days. While he didn't constantly check on their force bond, he didn't realize how much he felt it until it suddenly shut off.

He can remember the moment it happened with stark clarity. He'd been helping around at the town he was currently staying in, carrying some supplies to help rebuild a health center that had collapsed, when it was like everything went silent.

He froze mid step as he rapidly tried to figure out what on earth had just happened. He couldn't even pinpoint what was wrong or why everything felt slightly off until he assessed his bonds... and realized he couldn't feel Soap.

Ghost didn't have many force bonds still. The ones he had with his old master weren't the strongest and the ones that had been almost forced upon him during-

Well, he didn't have many force bonds anymore for a reason. Soap was about the only one, though Price had one too.

Ghost didn't know what to do. He'd immediately tried to reach out to Soap's comms to no success. The last thing they'd talked about was that he was going to be away on a mission with Garrick-

His comm rang. 

He answered without hesitation. Maybe it was Soap from a different-

"Soap's gone."

It was Garrick. Ghost clenched his comm unit as he stared at the holographic form of the other Jedi, who seemed just fine-

"Where."

"We were on a moon in the Pelgrin sector. It was a trap and he was taken." Garrick said, getting straight to the point.

Ghost immediately started walking back to where he was staying. He had a small ship. It would take him at least 3 days to make it that far. He was already plotting his course when he realized Garrick was still talking.

"-ooku but I don't know if he's still on that moon. Ghost. The Order is going to want to try and go after him too but they won't just storm in. I don't- You know why I'm calling you, right?" 

Ghost grunted. Of course he did. The Order wouldn't be as efficient as he could be, with their bureaucratic tape. There were very few things he missed about the Order, but the political ties that had developed over the recent decades wasn't one of them. 

"I'm on my way. If you get any updates, contact me." He said, disconnecting the call before Garrick could say anything else.

His ship already had rations on it, but he made sure to gather a few more as well as a few additional medical supplies before leaving, despite wanting to peel out as soon as possible. When he punched in the route, he cursed under his breath at the time. Every moment felt like one too many, and he couldn't even be certain that they'd still be there when he arrived.

But he'd have time to make some calls along the way, put some feelers out. He knew who he could trust with this information.

As it was nearing the last day of his trek, he'd gotten word back that Soap was likely not far from where he'd been taken. A ship had been spotted briefly in orbit tucked behind a nearby asteroid. One wouldn't easily spot it if they didn't know what they were looking for.

Ghost took in a deep breath as he started to make a plan. The main thing he had to do was get in, but once that happened-

Well, he wasn't worried too much about whatever might be between him and Soap. It wouldn't be there long.

-----------

They didn't move him afterwards. He was left lying in a cooling pile of his own blood. His forehead was up against the metal floor as he tried to take slow breaths despite his protesting lungs which were both sore and burning as he stretched the cauterized wounds across his chest.

"I'm one with the force and the force is with me." He whispered to himself softly. He took in a slow breath through his nose but it was interrupted by a cough he tried to suppress. He spit up some blood and groaned, trying to take better note of his body.

It felt like half of him was offline, a combination of numbness and tingling stretching across his system. He worked slowly, wiggling each individual finger before he finally felt like he might be able to lift himself up to a seated position.

That's when he heard the gunshots.

He froze, uncertain at first where they were coming from. That's when he realized they were deeper in the building.

... Was someone here for him finally?

He felt a stronger wave of renewed motivation flow through him as he managed to get back to a seated position with only minimal groans and winces of pain. 

"I'm one with the force and the force is with me." He said again, slightly firmer as he tried to calm the ringing in his ears so he could take better stock of where the fighting was happening.

It sounded like it was closer. Was it getting closer?

Suddenly the door down the hall opened, but the gunshots didn't get louder. Instead, he heard the familiar thrum of a lightsaber igniting.

"Well, well, what did I tell them? I knew he'd come for you." Gravis said as he stepped into the cell Soap was in. His red saber crackled angrily as he slowly lifted it, coming to a stop just under Soap's chin.

Soap took in a shaky breath as he looked up at Gravis, holding his chin as steady as he could.

"Sidious has been wanting him back, for another test run. He's certain he can break him this time." Gravis drawled. "I'm not sure why he wants that pathetic thing, but you were just bait." He smirked. "Don't worry, your usefulness hasn't run out yet. I think it'd be more impactful if you were around during the conditioning this time. Toy with his mind a bit. Or maybe we can make him kill you himself, hm? See if we can turn that rage the right direction-"

Another door opened and this time the gunshots were next to none. "Darth Gravis! The force user, he's-" a droid started to say when suddenly the sound of metal hitting the floor rang through the hall.

"My my, took you long enough to get here Simon," Gravis said, looking over but not moving his saber an inch. "Go on Johnny, say hello to him. It's only polite."

Ghost's eyes snapped over to where he was seated on the floor. Despite not being able to feel their force bond like he usually could, Soap could still catalog the emotions running across his face. Ghost's eyes went from him to the puddle of the blood on the floor and back up to the lightsaber at his throat.

Soap saw his hands tighten on the grip of his saber.

"You're just as feeble as I remember Gravis," Ghost rumbled, "Could never pick a fair fight because you knew you'd lose. Beating up on someone who's chained up and disconnected from the force? Does that make you feel stronger?"

Soap saw Gravis's expression flare with anger. The saber was immediately withdrawn and directed towards Ghost.

"You were all but scraped off the floor when you 'escaped.' You know he LET you go right? Someone as simple as you could never have made it out on your own." Gravis snarled. "I've seen the tapes. You're not even worth his time!"

Ghost slid into a fighting stance, not breaking eye contact with Gravis. "And yet he's taking his time trying to lure me back, when he's got a lap dog already drooling to do as he says. Do you feel replaceable yet mutt?"

Gravis snarled louder and immediately launched himself towards Ghost, who blocked him flawlessly. Where Gravis's attacks were fury and erratic, Ghost was as steady and smooth as ever. He looked like he was hardly breaking a sweat as Gravis danced around him.

"Face it Gravis, you were always meant to beg for scraps. If you were truly good enough you wouldn't be the one running errands to try to lure in another apprentice would you?"

This made Gravis lunge, but it was exactly what Ghost wanted to happen. He quickly grabbed Gravis by the shoulder, blocking his saber and throwing him to the floor. He stomped onto the hand that was holding his saber and Gravis shouted as he dropped it. 

Ghost stared down at him for a moment. 

Gravis glared, reaching up a hand, clearly about to use the force, when Ghost's expression finally broke. He curled his upper lip before gripping the air in front of him, easily lifting up Gravis from the floor before quickly slamming him back into it.

Ghost only looked at his limp form for a moment more before he immediately spun and sprinted over to Soap.

Soap looked up at him, cracking a small smile, though he was sure the blood covering his gums wasn't helping. "Hey Ghostie."

The brooding man dropped to his knees and quickly reached around Soap's neck. Soap felt the collar's latch release before he heard it, as the feeling of the Force flooded back into him. 

It was like taking a deep breath after being underwater for too long.

"Oh Force," he breathed.

Immediately the next thing he felt was the cacophony of emotions flooding off of Ghost. "Ghost, I-"

"Don't move Johnny," Ghost said, his tone gruffer than normal. Johnny held still as Ghost deftly cut through the cuffs keeping his hands behind his back. When his hands were free, he slowly moved them around to his front, rubbing his wrists gently. 

"Thank you," he said, realizing how fucked his voice sounded. He's sure it wasn't helping the growing concern Ghost was expressing.

"How broken are you?" Ghost asked.

"Ah, it looks worse than i' is," Soap said, but his point was a bit ruined when he had a coughing fit at the end that left him light headed.

Suddenly, the world around him shifted. He yelped and his position adjusted. Soap blinked and realized how close he was to Ghost's face now, the strong arms wrapped around him. 

Ghost didn't look down at him, taking long strides back through the facility, completely ignoring the graveyard of droids around him. "I have medical supplies on the ship. I'm going to put you there before I come back and... finish what needs to be done in here."

"Ah've seen my share of death before Ghost, you didn' have'ta shield me from that."

Ghost let out a slow breath but didn't reply. 

"Aye, you can' ignore me when I'm this close'ta your face," Soap said.

Finally he saw the hint of a smile under Ghost's usual face scarf. "Mm, I could try."

"Ah you could, but I don' think you traveled all the way here to save me because you don' like me."

Ghost glanced down at him, his brown eyes showing just as much as their force bond revealed. "... Johnny."

Johnny reached up a hand and cupped Ghost's face. "Thank you for comin' for me."

"My head's too quiet without you in it," he replied, pausing for a moment. "... I'll always come for ya Johnny."

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but his heart was too happy to make it at the moment. "I know you would Simon."

#call of duty #ghoap #ghost x soap #cod mw #tas141 #cod x sw #star wars crossover #call of duty crossover #ghoap fanfic #ghost x soap fic #angst #hurt/comfort #apple's fics

[swordcreature]

Rolan deserves to get pegged. Someone needs to come fuck the brat out of him.

i will take this sacrifice for us all. i will fuck the brat completely out of Rolan. you are all welcome!

but in all seriousness. i had so much fun writing this. i know this wasn't a request per se but 3,000 words later and here we are. our boy just really needed someone to fuck him with the magical strap (that we are all going to pretend is a very real thing that exists in his world. along with the magical bottle of oil/lube).

it doesn't really work anyway

i couldn't think what to name this monster so excuse the stupid title, it fits into like on tiny part but it made me laugh so. yeah.

Now I Know My ABCs

Rolan x Reader

“You could have just fixed it, you know? You don’t have to be an insufferable prick about every little mistake you notice.” “Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, I wouldn’t have anything to comment on.”

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content MDNI/18+, Pegging, Anal Fingering

Word Count: 3,028 | [Read on AO3]

Okay, so, in hindsight, calling Rolan “the biggest fucking brat to ever grace the mortal realm” probably wasn’t your finest move. But gods if it wasn’t completely fucking accurate.  

All day he was wondering around the tower, nit picking the work you so graciously volunteered as you both tried to organize the mess Lorroakan left behind after his completely deserved demise.  

“Oh, this is interesting come look at this,” Rolan ushered you over to the shelf you had been working on before lunch. You walked over, brow furrowed as you looked at the tomes he pointed to: a copy of Illusionary Arcana: A Complete Study and Illusion: A Spellcaster’s Guide to the Unreal. “I had no idea the Common language had changed recently, did you?” 

“Here we fucking go.” 

“Surely that must have been the case, otherwise this book would have been placed before Illusionary Arcana, yes?” You wanted to smack the disingenuous look of confusion off his smug face.  

“You could have just fixed it, you know? You don’t have to be an insufferable prick about every little mistake you notice.” You flipped the position of the books.  

“Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, I wouldn’t have anything to comment on,” he offered back, facing the books with a matter-of-fact expression as though they were discussing breakfast plans or the weather.  

“Maybe, you should find someone else who is willing to put up with your contemptible drivel so-”  

“I’m surprised someone who does not know their alphabet knows what contemptible means.”  

Your hands balled into fists at your sides and your nostrils flared. You were doing this for free. It would be a cold day in the Hells before you continued to let him talk to you like that.  

Without saying a word, you turned scanning the room for where you laid your things. This caught Rolan’s attention; he eyed you over his shoulder as he continued to fiddle with the row of books. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, unphased. 

“Leaving.” This at least elicited some sort of reaction, his head whipping around to watch you grab your things.  

“Why? You said you would assist me. And we still have two more cases to go today if we are to remain on track.” His face scrunched in frustration. He couldn’t honestly expect you to just continue on as though he hadn’t just acted like a complete son of a bitch, right? 

“Are you serious- ‘Why?’ Because Rolan, today you have been-” well, you know what came next. He didn’t take it lightly. 

“I- you- you insolent little witch!  I’d rather be a brat than being a classless degenerate like you!” He took an angry step towards you. 

“Classless? You arrogant, pretentious arsehole!”  

“Indolent, mindless fool!” Then another. 

“Hateful wretch!” 

“Talentless hack!” He was so close now that you could feel his breath on your face as he stared down the length of his nose at you. It was a shame he was such a knob head, because he was so nice to look at, even from this angle.  

“You-” you paused, trying to think of the most poetic way to tell him that he could take every book in his big fancy tower and shove it right up his ass.  

But something else came to mind.  

With a scowl, you sank your hands into the front of his robes and yanked him downward, forcing his lips against your own. Much to your surprise, and delight if you wanted to be completely honest, he relented, allowing himself to be kissed with an almost bruising intensity.  

You tore your lips away. The look on Rolan’s face at the loss of contact would have made you laugh if you weren’t so fucking fed up with him. His chest was heaving as though he had just ran a mile around the tower, and the way your stomach twisted at the sight made you even more frustrated. Stupid wizard with his handsome face and pretty lips.  

You pushed him back against the nearest bookcase, hard enough that a book tumbled from its home high above you. Rolan’s eyes were fire and hunger as he glared at you, silently urging you to continue what you started. You pressed yourself flush to his chest, noses touching, lips barely a hair apart.  

He craned his neck lower to try and catch you in a kiss, but you were quicker, fueled by an intense need to see this man squirm. 

“Now now, Rolan. Where are your manners?” You chastised with a click of your tongue. “Say please.” 

He swallowed thickly and grit his teeth. The room fell silent as seconds ticked by, Rolan seemingly weighing his words.  

Just as you thought he was going to end whatever this was, too proud to continue, he muttered out, almost unintelligibly, “Please.”  

You smiled sweetly, and then you were slotting your mouth over his, kissing with as much force as before. Your hand snaked into his hair, dragging your nails roughly against his scalp, tugging at the roots. The sound he made in response was nothing short of a growl. Oh did it spur you on.  

Your free hand squeezed between your bodies to palm over the erection pinned against his thigh. Even under his robes and trousers you could tell he was hot, long, and so very hard. You pet his cock with a firm touch through several layers of clothes, Rolan forcing his hips forward in response.  

After a few tentative strokes, you removed your hand completely – pulling yourself backwards slightly so that he had nothing to grind himself against. He whined in frustration.  

“Mmm, I don’t think you deserve that yet, do you?” You pressed your lips to his ear, your tongue slipping out to follow the outer shell. Rolan shivered. “You’ve been a little brat today, Rolan. I don’t think you deserve to be touched yet.” 

For the first time since you met him, Rolan had nothing to say. His head hung low, almost hitting your shoulder as he clenched his jaw.  

“You think you’re so clever, with that sharp tongue. But I'm going to make you forget how to speak, pretty little wizard.” His breath hitched, stopped dead in his throat. “Only if you’re good, though. Okay?” Rolan nodded eagerly, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “Okay. Now, go be a dear and take your clothes off for me, hmm?”  

Rolan fumbled forward as you stepped away from the bookcase. His hands shook as he undressed, clumsily unlacing his trousers to slide them off, along with his underclothes. You walked over to sit on the edge of his desk and watched as he pulled his robes from his shoulders. He murmured something to himself that you couldn’t quite discern, but you didn’t care enough to push. Because with everything discarded to the floor, Rolan stood completely bare, cock jutting upwards from a dark swatch of hair on his groin. It was already leaking with excitement. 

He looked up to find you staring, leering at his lithe form in appreciation. It must have been written on your face because the bastard’s lips quirked up in a smug grin. That wouldn’t do. You needed to wipe that smirk off of his face. 

You hopped off the desk’s edge and pointed towards it. Rolan eyed you with suspicion but acquiesced, moving so that he stood between you and it. Raising a hand to your mouth, you spit into your palm, eyes fixed on his. Your hand found his erection, spreading your saliva down his length in one motion.  

Rolan’s chest heaved with a moan, thrusting into your hand for more. He knew as soon as it happened that he had made a mistake; you removed your hand from him and gave him a pointed look.  

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’ll be still, I promise.” 

You had to bite back a smile as how desperate he sounded from just a few touches. But an apology did sound good on his lips. So, you began stroking him again, fisting over his shaft with a tight grip. Rolan’s thighs shook with the exertion needed to keep himself still and little whimpers left his mouth with every pass of your hand.  

And then you stop, completely removing your hand from him. Before he could even make a sound in protest, though, you grabbed his hips and spun him in place so that his rear was pressed to your front. One hand smoothed its way up his spine, settling between his shoulder blades. And with a firm shove, you urged him to bend so that his chest lay on the cool wood of the desk.  

Your free hand circled his ass, caressing the smooth, plump skin. A sharp thwack echoed through the room as your hand lifted and then connected with his rear. Rolan yelped, jolting forward slightly, but didn’t complain – in fact you were almost positive his hips canted against the desk in a desperate grind for friction. You repeated the action again, bringing your hand down to smack him with enough force to leave a darkened handprint. Rolan’s moan was high pitched and needy as he braced himself for another smack that didn’t come. 

Both hands now groped at his cheeks spreading him so that you could see all of him – every last inch of his red skin heated in desire as he keened below you. Leaning forward, you reached around to press two fingers to his lips and Rolan accepted them greedily. His hot tongue laved over your digits, coating them in his saliva. You pulled them out with a pop to tease at his hole, the wetness of his spit making him slick enough to dip a finger in to the second knuckle.  

Gods he looked so good taking you, back arched to offer himself more fully, desperate whines slipping from his lips. You worked your finger in and out as he rocked his hips against the desk. For a moment you thought about stopping – chastising him for seeking his pleasure without your permission. But you most certainly did not have the willpower to do so as you watched him take your finger down to the last knuckle. You were only mortal after all. 

“Think you can take another?” you asked, tone sultry and low, though your question was sincere; you wanted to make sure you weren’t overstepping. He responded with an eager, shaky nod and a soft gasp. 

Mumbling a spell under your breath, a small vial of oil appeared in your palm out of thin air. You uncorked it with your teeth and, with a very disappointed whine from Rolan, removed yourself from inside him to slather some of the liquid over your fingers.  

The noise he made when you returned them to prod at his hole was nothing short of debauched – for a moment you thought he may cum right there. But he took the added stretch in stride, panting as you began to set a rhythm.  

You were satisfied with your work, the man beneath you squirming and gasping and not saying a godsdamned word.  

That is, until he turned his head to the side, peering at you from the corner of his eye to beg, “More.” 

That wouldn’t do. He was still able to form a coherent thought and that just wasn’t going to work for you.  

You slipped both fingers from his ass in one quick motion. Rolan, although quivering and breathless, looked as though he was going to object, to say something that surely would make your blood pressure rise. Your free hand tangled into his hair to force his head back down to the desk.  

“Not a word, or else I’ll leave right now,” you hissed. You had never seen Rolan behave so easily, relaxing back against the wood as he waited for you to make the next move.  

Another muted spell left your lips, the room slightly tinged with the crackle of your magic. The summoned object was heavier than you anticipated, but oh did that make it even more exciting. Commanding Rolan to keep his head down, you stepped into the harness of the conjured strap-on and pulled it up to fasten around your groin snuggly. You spilled the rest of the oil bottle over the thick base of the strap and spread it around with a loose fist.  

Rolan wiggled with impatience, still obeying your orders to keep down and not look. So, without further delay, you notched the tip against him then slid the length over his entrance. His body tensed with understanding as he rocked against you ardently, his tail wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.  

You teased his rim with the head of your strap, providing just enough pressure to have him writhing for more but not enough to actually enter him. He groaned in frustration as he tried desperately to force himself back to satisfy his need for more.  

“Oh? Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you Master Rolan?” His moan was high and keen – more pathetic than you had ever heard him before. It was music to your ears. “I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” The tip of your strap pushed into him ever so slightly more, enough to spread his entrance in preparation. Dangerously close to where he wanted you most but still so very far away.  

“Mmf- ye- ah- yes!” It seemed forming words was proving to be especially difficult for the erudite wizard. Perfect. 

And then you gave in; your hands gripped his hips as you slid the thick length of the strap into him slowly. Rolan’s head hung low, forehead pressed to the cool wood of the desk. He sighed in relief, finally feeling the fullness he craved.  

With an iron grip, you held his hips still, slowly pulling out of him. Then, without warning, you thrusted forward to sheath the strap’s entire length inside him with perhaps maybe a touch too much vigor. Rolan jolted forward by the force of it, gasping as he adjusted. You repeated the movement again. And again. And again.  

Soon, you had set a punishing pace, clothed hips smacking the back of his bare thighs as you drove as deep as he could take you. Every thrust had Rolan whimpering, words dying on his tongue before they were fully formed. It didn’t take long to find that perfect spot that had him stuffing his fist in his mouth to muffle his shouts. Oh you liked that spot. 

You weren’t gentle, overcome by an intense need to fuck him until every bratty thought was emptied from his mind through his cock. You raised your hand to roughly slap his ass where your handprint had formed from before. Rolan cried out as the pleasure of you inside him mixed with the pain from your hand.  

“I’m- ah. So-” Every syllable was cut off by a garbled sound as though he couldn’t figure out if he wanted to scream or laugh or cry. The only thing he seemed to know was that he wanted more. “Fu- yes there right there-” 

You stopped with the strap buried completely inside him. Rolan nearly screamed, the sudden lack of motion bringing tears to his eyes. He craned his neck to look at you; he was absolutely furious. You leaned over so that you could press your lips to his ear.  

“Now. Did you want to say something about how you spoke to me earlier?” Your hips caged his, keeping him from seeking his own pleasure.  

“Fuck y-” You began to pull out. “No no no, sorry- I'm sorry, I apologize. Whatever you want to hear I’ll say it.” 

While you weren’t exactly pleased that he had the mental wherewithal to form a complete sentence, you certainly preened at his desperation. “Is that it?” You pulled out even further.  

“Fuck! I was a stupid fucking brat, I’m sorry! Okay? Is that what you wanted? Will you please just-”  

He didn’t get the chance to finish as you thrusted forward as quickly as possible, immediately establishing a pace faster than before. Rolan’s legs shook as though they were ready to give out and you thought for a moment they might if not for the desk under him.  

It only took a couple deep thrusts against his most sensitive spot before he came. His orgasm was a rough avalanche of pleasure; his hips ground against the wood beneath him as his whole body seemed to tremble at the almost violent intensity of his release. You couldn’t quite understand what he was saying – or more like chanting – repeating the garbled word over and over again like he was trying to memorize the sound.  

You realized with pride that it was your name, almost unrecognizable through the fist he still bit down on.  

Your hand ghosted over the red mark on his ass – your own apology for perhaps being too rough. The conjured strap on disappeared as soon as you removed it from him, leaving behind the faint feeling of the Weave. 

Hushed sounds from the shop below you started to filter into the room, and you realized that somewhere along the way Rolan had cast a modified form of silence. The cheeky bastard. You’d definitely remember that for next time.  

It took him longer than he would ever admit to finally stand up, legs still unsteady and wobbly. Both the desk and his stomach were painted white with cum, and you had to admit, it was quite the sight. You brought a finger dangerously close to where his cock stood, still softening, and whisked a drop of his spend from his skin. Rolan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as you took the finger into your mouth to taste him.  

His voice was hoarse when he spoke, “You truly are a degenerate.” Despite his words, he was smiling.  

“And here I thought you were done being a brat?” 

“Well, maybe perhaps your little lesson didn’t have the intended effect, hm?” 

You eyed the mess on his desk with a smug smile. “Oh, I think it worked out just as intended.” 

#bg3 #bg3 smut #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader #my writing #requests/suggestions #lemonandhoneytea

[ncteez]

helloooo! i’m a relatively new follower (and a relatively new carat!) and congratulations on your milestone! for your sleepover event can i please request mingyu and 98 from the prompt list? i feel like you could make it as fluffy or as dirty as you like 😆

mingyu + “I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot.”

wordcount: 1.7k

tags: very much in love jock/fratboy!mingyu, regular ass girl reader. (shocking, coming from me lmao), grinding, kissing, hand job, implied sex

note: you know im not only thankful for your congratulations for me, but for offering the option to write about mingyu with free reign? thank u so much <3 I did split up the prompt a lil bit to work it into the drabble, hope you don't mind!

Mingyu, the kid from down the street that rode by on his scooter, fucking scooter, and knocked your popsicle out of your hand before immediately riding straight into a tree. Mingyu, the guy who took you to prom because he felt bad that your crush rejected you quite harshly. Mingyu, the kid who turned into an awkward teen, who then turned into a, to put it bluntly, beefy ass jock playing for the college football team.

The two of you lost contact after prom, feeling as if the two of you were entirely too different. Sure, he was kind, but his jokes weren't funny. His interests bored you, and he couldn't dance for shit back then.

Even now, seeing him in passing on the walkways of campus, you'll notice that his eye never meets yours. His interests are that of prideful trophies, medals, and Tuesday night drinking binges at the frat house before a big exam.

Your interests clash. Art, architecture, grades, a comfy career working from home with nine cats and maybe a dog? That's what you want out of life.

The two of you were always very different, but still always close by somehow.

He lived three houses down from you growing up, he knew you got rejected in the hall on the way to biology class in high school because he just happened to be there, and now, he goes to the same fucking college as you fourteen hours away from the town the two of you grew up in.

It was kind of strange, then again, not really. Small world this, small world that. The two of you live in it completely apart, but the strange part is the fact that somehow, someway, he's always following his own path within arms reach of yours, regardless of how fucking distant your personalities are.

It's honestly not something you'd think of on a day to day basis, today is different though. You have to think about it, because maybe, sort of, he's kind of under you right now? And it's hard to explain how or why it happened outside of like, opposites attract.

"Never expected this out of someone like you," Mingyu comments, his hands gripping your hips and holding you in place as you straddle his lap. "Admit that you've had a crush all of these years."

You shake your head at him and roll your eyes. All those years you've known him? He was just Mingyu. Attractive? Sure, you'll give him that, but otherwise a little too different from you to have a crush.

"Always so quick to flatter yourself, Gyu, really." You laugh sarcastically, knowing for a fact that he's very aware of this current, very temporary crush you have on him. Otherwise you wouldn't be two inches from him lips right now.

"Well," He glances to the side, hiding his fondness of that childhood nickname, pretending that there isn't the possibility of a stranger barging through that open door and ruining this moment. "I had a crush."

You figured as much, with the way he really did try during prom. Though it was more of a pity-date, you imagine he wouldn't have felt how he did if there wasn't something there pushing him to try and heal up that little piece of your broken high school heart.

And as much as you figured it, something inside of you finds this big, beefy, asshole of a man....incredibly endearing as he admits it to you.

"Oh? Did you now?" You tilt your head, leaning in a bit and sitting your lips against the corner of his mouth. "What happened to change your mind?"

He turns his face, hands gripping you tighter, and kisses you once.

"Nothing changed my mind." He whispers slightly, entirely suffocating himself in the moment of being with you like he's always imagined since puberty hit his ass.

He kisses you again.

"Meaning," Another kiss. "I still have that crush."

You say nothing in response, and instead give in to his assault of kisses against your lips.

The feeling is......warm. Cliché even, in the way he kisses you like he meant what he just said despite the two of you practically ignoring each other for years.

"You have no idea how many times I've thought about this," He admits between those little kisses, his hands gripping harder and harder by the second. "I always hoped you'd walk through those doors to come see me."

You pull back, looking at him with a raised brow.

"I came here because I'm celebrating the fact that I passed an exam that almost killed me, what makes you think I expected you to be here?"

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at you now.

"You're very aware that I live here." He laughs, trying to catch you in a lie, trying to give him a reason outside of a sudden bout of random horniness from you to have you crawling on his lap like this. "You're not here to catch up?"

You find yourself feeling a bit bad. You didn't often think of Mingyu after college started, and it appears he thought of you plenty.

"I came here for the booze but," You smile, intentionally rolling your hips to offer him some sort of apology. "I can't say that I'm upset that you're here, and you know, hard."

His eyes flutter a bit at the friction you're offering to him, twitching in his pants unintentionally as you intentionally pull it out of him.

"So, tell me," You continue, pulling back a bit to watch his face and the way he seems to turn to jelly under you. Your hips continue, working him up, up, up. "How much did you think about this?"

He lets out a breathy chuckle, a half-moan coming out immediately after as he tries to gain back his ability to talk. Out of all things, this isn't entirely how he imagined doing this with you. Sure he always thought of you being on top of him like this, but never did he imagine feeling as though he's....shy.

"Couple of times," He tries to say nonchalantly, pressing his hips up and against you for more. "Like I said before, i never would have expected this out of you though."

You look at him closely, knowing for a fact that he probably expected to be the one in full control. It's cute knowing he can't live up to his own fantasy.

"You think I expected to have you under me like this? Looking like you're about to cry just from a bit of grinding?"

He groans out of slight embarrassment, nodding because he kind of didn't expect it either.

"Didn't expect someone like you to act this weak for someone like me." You continue, laughing more with him than at him.

Before you let him respond though, you reach down and fiddle with the button of his pants, feeling entirely in control of the situation.

"Does it feel good to be weak?" You smile, leaning forward to kiss against his neck as you slowly work your hand under his jeans.

God, the way he loses it. Pleasantly surprised with how you're speaking to him, and even more pleased with the fact that fucking finally you're giving him a chance. An ounce of your attention, even.

He's not ashamed to be weak around you, never has been. He wouldn't be ashamed if Vernon's drunk ass stomped through the door and watched, because at this point there's no stopping. He's too far gone in the feeling of your fingers working their way around his length, even in the tight space between your bodies. He's too gone in the feeling of your lips fluttering across his neck.

If he can, he'll take you right here, right the fuck now.

"Yeah..." he trails off in a dreamy sigh, letting himself feel you touching him for the first time.

"So," You ask, loving his reaction, squeezing the base of his cock and sliding off of his lap before lowering yourself to your knees and focusing solely on how big his cock is in your hand. "You just gonna sit here or are you gonna, like, take me to your actual room and let me really feel it?"

Mingyu's cock reacts before his brain does, as he freezes and processes the words. Oh god, you're really gonna let him? After all these years of crushing on you? Pining for you? Thinking about you in the early morning hours when he definitely shouldn't have been?"

"I never thought I'd hear you say that--" He says more to himself than to you. Seemingly looking like a deer in headlights before he's pulling your hand out of his pants, lacing his fingers with yours, and leading you straight to his bedroom. Arousal in full swing as he passes by stranger after stranger, friend after friend, until finally, he's got you behind his locked bedroom door.

"Fuck," he says immediately as he watches you and the way you stand there, as normal as ever, lifting your shirt off of you without a second thought and revealing a part of you that he only ever imagined being able to kiss.

The fact that you seem eager to get your clothes off, doing it the second the two of you are truly alone? Honestly, he can feel the waves of arousal making his length pulse painfully against his pants. The fact that other people have seen you like this before? The fact that you chose to let him see? The fact that this is how you act when you're turned on? Fuck, fuck, fuck. He's entirely desperate at this moment.

"That's so hot," He starts, feeling a little dumb but ultimately running with it because, well, he's not fucking lying. "It's so hot seeing you, the girl who always ignored me, doing this."

"Mingyu, all I did was take my shirt off." You try to brush his dramatic response off, feeling very seen right now.

"For me." He adds to your sentence, practically feeling like his knees will buckle and make him fall to the floor and grovel for a taste of you.

You feel doted on. Like the most mundane acts regarding sex seems to be driving him up a fucking wall, and arguably, it very well may be. With the way every inch of your skin is massaged and kissed before you can even fully reveal it to him.

It didn't take much to get Mingyu to actually fall to his knees once your pants came off. And goddamn you never expected such a big, beefy ass jock, to be so gentle with someone else's body. With your body.

#[sleepover] #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #[mingyu] #[m] #heartsandwheels

[the-kr8tor]

Can you write a small thing of the reader(Gn! Reader please) finding out Hobie is Spiderpunk? I just really wanna see what you think would happen honestly.

It's a-okay if you don't! Thank you!

Thank you for requesting l! 😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw injury, a dash of hurt/comfort, Fluff.

Wrote this as a sequel to this fic

A/N: a sequel to my first ever fic? I have come full circle 🤣

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You pace back and forth in your shared flat, the floors seem to leave indents of your foot falls from how much you're walking around. Your mind fails to wrap around the fact that Hobie and Spider-Man are one and the same. The familiar embrace and sturdy chest you fell on proves it. But you wouldn't know if your deduction is correct if you don't ask him yourself.

Not knowing how to react, you chew your bottom lip, your nose still aching from the impact. So you wait for him to finally get home, with the sound of keys rattling outside your doors, heart thumping loudly, you sit on the settee to calm your nerves.

Hobie doesn't waste time to come look for you nor take off his boots at the door, he speed walks over to you in a hurry after finding you sitting forlorn on the couch. Your eyes meet his, he immediately crouches in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso, hiding you from the world. His palm guides your head over the crook of his neck, placing a weighted kiss over your temple; wishing, hoping the pain you feel will subside.

"Came as soon as I saw your message, 'm sorry. Are you alright?" He traces your spine with his hand, comforting and calming your lingering adrenaline. You feel the bandage over his hand through your thin shirt.

"Hobie?" You ask in a small voice.

"Yeah, love?"

You get to the point, there's no point in dilly dallying "Are you Spider-Man?"

His reaction wasn't what you expected, Hobie chuckles deeply like you just told him an inside joke only you two could know. You pull away slightly, hands still holding him, anchoring you.

"Figured me out, huh?" Hobie brushes his knuckles atop your cheeks, careful of your injured nose. "Knew you would notice"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tears threaten to spill over. A hundred questions fly past your mind, insecurity filling you.

He reads you like an open book, "I trust you with my life, hey" Hobie wipes a stray tear, you sniff, paying attention to every word. "Didn't want you to get hurt because of me, someone might get wind of you, and I wouldn't know what I would do if something did happen to you. That's why I kept it from you, 'm sorry" your shoulders relax, sighing in understanding.

Hobie takes your hands in his, you feel the scratchy cloth over his palm. You rub your thumb over it softly, reassuringly.

"You saved me, twice." Your eyes trail over the bandages. "Thank you" you finally look up at him, eyes soft, leaning over to peck his forehead. You hope your love permeates through the kiss.

He sighs, eyes closed in content. You lean back to Hobie's dismay. "I won't stop you from being Spider-Man, just be careful. Come home in one piece?" You smile at him, in return Hobie kisses your knuckles, each kiss longer than the last.

"For you, I will" He gently guides you over with his hand on the back of your neck, meeting your lips for a proper kiss. You move in tandem, hand squeezing his.

Needing air back in your lungs, you pull away, eyes twinkling. "Can't believe my boyfriend and crush are one and the same, is that why you were never jealous whenever I gush about Spiderman?"

"You were inadvertently feeding my ego."

You laugh, placing your forehead against his in affection.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #spider punk #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #fluffy fridays #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #spider punk x gn! reader #cw injury #hobie fluff #fanfic #hobie x reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook:

𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Intro

Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.

Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, strangers to lovers/mates, mentions of folklore and traditions, modern fantasy, romance, human?Reader, Fluff, Courting, MC kinda wary of kook at first, but he's cute give him a chance pls

Length: ~2k

-> Masterlist

"Look at you! All the new color suits you well!" Seokjin laughs, commenting on Jungkook's tattoos which had been changing over the course of the year since he's seen his friends last festival. The younger dragon simply shrugs, though he can't help but stand a bit more proudly at the comment, considering that his body ink is a visual representation of his identity within the Clan up to this point.

It's all part of the tradition after all; as soon as a dragonkin turns 21 years old, they're considered an adult, officially on their own and ready to build their own families and futures, and while not all do it, he likes to wear his identity openly like this.

Even though in the modern world, his dragon blood isn't seen as something to be proud of anymore. In fact, it's treated as nothing more than a simple remnant of lost times, outdated and no longer of any importance.

It's why most members of the dragon bloodlines tend to stay amongst each other, most of their social circles consisting of other dragons, just like he himself tends to do. A lot of his friends have been finding their mates recently, and while Jungkook is happy about that, he himself isn't really interested in that- at least not right now. He's doing good all by himself at the moment, so he doesn't really see the need to settle down right now. He's also not yet found anybody he'd really honestly see himself wanting to settle down with- so for now, he just attends the traditional festivals every year to reconnect with his friends and family, let himself go for a little while and leave all those expectations of the modern world behind for at least a small amount of time.

"Are the rest here too?" Jungkook asks Jin as they both walk into the Hotel close to the festival spaces, many already setting up their tents and booths for tonight.

"Taehyung is coming a bit later, he said the whole trip is taking a bit longer now that his mate's pregnant." He says, making Jungkook nod next to him, greeting some elders along the way. "she's not even properly showing, yet he's already all scrambled up in the head." He jokes.

"I've heard about that! Yoongi owes me a hundred bucks now." He laughs, remembering the bet he'd made with the older dragon last year when Taehyung had announced his engagement to his mate. He'd always dreamed of a big family- so it wasn't surprising to Jungkook that his friend already had the first child on the way.

Maybe one day he'll have his own, too.

"I remember when Yoongi of all people attended the hunt and actually caught his mate too!" Seokjin laughs. "Remember that? It was honestly hilarious to see him so desperate. The old slow guy all out on the fields." He teases, as the man in question walks into view.

"At least I've caught something. Not like mister forever virgin over here." He teases, laughing when Jungkook growls offended, mumbling something about that 'not being true at all hyung.!' Under his breath as the older one walks alongside them.

It's when a giggle catches him off guard, the sound accompanied by what he can only describe as a small bell faintly in the background.

When he looks for the source of the sound, he finds your eyes pretty quickly- gaze hauntingly beautiful as he doesn't even realize he'd just stopped walking for no reason, one of his friends bumping into him the only cause of distraction for him. And for a second, he looks away, only a small but of time - and suddenly you're no longer there, disappearing as quickly as you've appeared in the first place. "Who was that?" He asks no one in particular, Yoongi shrugging as he tries to find what his friend seems to be looking for.

"Who was who?" He asks, before everyone walks away with him to greet Taehyung and his partner who'd just arrived.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He spots you again as you tie your hair up, elastic in between your lips where you hold it while your hands collect all your hair. It's a normal thing he's seen a lot of people do- himself included, considering the length of his hair these days- and yet when you do it, it looks like Aphrodite captured in marble, details enchanting and intricate.

He almost feels like he shouldn't watch.

And yet he does, even continues to look your way with his hand around his glass of water, small leftovers of his meal completely uninteresting compared to the sight of you walking closer to the older women to help with washing clothes and other things in the riverbed. He can spot Jimin and other male dragons between them as well, and he wonders if you enjoy those tasks.

During this time of the year, everyone is pulled back to the old ways of living. From using almost no electricity to trading things instead of buying it with money, things work simply differently during these next few days, and he personally enjoys this more simpler way of living to the fullest. There's no space for boredom or anything like that- always something to do for him, never an empty second.

Even now, as he watches you.

For a while, you seem to not notice him until one of the women taps your shoulder, talking to you for a few words before you turn your head to meet his eyes. Surprise is written over your features, especially when he boldly pats the spot next to him at the table, silently inviting you to sit with him, maybe even share a meal.

You wonder a little. Does he know that offering a meal is one part of courting a fellow dragon?

He probably does, considering his appearance. He does look like you'd expect a modern dragon to carry himself; from the wyvern tooth necklace around his neck, the colored tattoos under his skin, even the challenging fire behind his eyes. He surely knows his heritage, which makes it even more odd to you.

Though you wouldn't ever pass the chance of getting to know someone like him.

He's well known in the community of female dragons- mostly for his lack of interest in anybody when it comes to actually finding a mate. For a long time, there's been a rumor going around that he wasn't simply interested in females in general- but that was quickly debunked after it got known that he does, in fact, seek out pleasure without any long-term relationship in mind. It makes you wary of his intentions right now though-

Because that's not what you're seeking here, or at all.

You sit down across from him at the table, having dried your hands before joining him, his eyes friendly as they watch you, someone already next to you asking what you'd like to eat. As soon as that person leaves, it's Jungkook's turn to talk to you. "I've never seen you around here before." He tells you, arms now on the table as he's got them crossed in front of him. "I'm Jungkook."

"I know." You nod. "Both of those things." You shrug, looking around for a moment before you spare him another look. "I'm not interested."

"I haven't even proposed anything." He counters, head tilted a bit as he's internally confused as to what you might've heard about him that could make you so wary of his intentions. In his world, he's not done anything questionable, ever- he doesn't fuck around, never broke somebody's heart, is always pretty clear and honest with whomever he crosses paths.

"But I know what guys like you want." You simply say, thanking the young dragon who puts your plate down in front of you. "And I'm not offering that." You tell him without looking, simply starting to eat instead.

"What do I want then?" He asks, moving one of his arms so his chin can rest on his palm. "You got me curious."

"Sex." You bluntly tell him, reaching for the large water pitcher standing somewhat closer to Jungkook than to you- something he instantly notices, lifting it for you instead to fill your cup. "Thanks." You offer quietly, and he nods at that, putting it back down.

"Interesting." He just shrugs after he sits back down in front of you. "That's not what I want though. I mean- you're attractive, don't get me wrong- but I'd like to get to know you first, if anything." He proposes, and you narrow your eyes at him.

"That sounds like you're aiming for my heart." You accuse, pointing your steak-knife at him. "And that's even worse." You say, making him laugh.

"No, I promise. I really just.. think you're really pretty, and from what I can tell, you're also exactly my type- but if you want me to leave you alone, I can totally do that too." He offers politely, and you chew on your food in thought before you rest your cheek on your palm, poking at some vegetables.

"How am I your type?" You ask him, curious to know what makes you stand out to him. It must be something at least- because if he's never wanted a relationship with anybody before why pursue someone as boring as you for that role of all things? You know you're a good friend, but a girlfriend? No, you're lame, and you've come to accept that after all those failed relationships.

Your question makes him light up visually, as he sits up straighter with a bit of a smile on his lips. "It's hard to explain. You're cute, but I like people who have their own mind." He shrugs, explaining his view on you while you don't look at him. "Visually, you check all my boxes. If your character does the same thing, I guess we just have to find out." He tells you, and you look at him now.

"What if you don't check any of my boxes?" You ask him, looking for how he's going to react. "You're too tall for me, for example. And your muscles scare me a little." You jab at him, cutting your food as if you're talking about the weather. "You seem like someone obsessed with working out. I'm not. In fact, I don't ever really work out. I don't really look at what I eat in general, to be honest."

"That's fine by me." He simply answers when you stop talking. "I don't really watch it that much either- only if I have a shooting or something alike." He explains, making you nod quietly. "But if I don't check any of your boxes, like you say, why come over and sit with me then?" He teases, leaning in over the table a little bit.

You shrug. "Your tattoos." You simply tell him. "They're pretty good. Who made these?" You ask, and he looks at them for a second, before he moves his gaze back to you.

"Min Yoongi back in Seoul did most of them. He specializes in dragon tattoos." He explains, and you nod at that.

"I thought I remembered the artstyle." You say. "He's always been very neat with his work." You mumble more or less, before you sigh, putting your cutlery onto your empty plate, pulling your glass of water closer. "Alright- do you want my number now, or.?" You ask, suspecting that he would maybe ask you on a date or something after the whole festival is over. But he genuinely surprises you, when his eyes narrow in a challenging manner, the dragon peeking through in a way as he leans forward over the table, standing up.

You're wary- and he assumes it might be because you've never truly experienced anything good when it comes to finding partners. He can relate to this; and he can also gain power from that simple fact, simply because now more than ever, he wants to prove himself to you. He wants to show you that he truly is different from what you might believe.

"I'll just win you over, easy." He tells you, promises almost, as he pulls the wyvern tooth from around his neck, and leaves it close to your hand- an offering of sorts, a first step at trying to impress you, even if small. "The traditional way." He finishes up, leaving you alone at the table, simply watching as he walks away and merges with the crowd.

Maybe you've underestimated him.

Maybe he's not who you think he is.

Maybe you've finally found your match.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine

[echo-rambles]

use my body against me

summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself. 

There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone. 

-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha 

At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.

The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.

It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy. 

Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months. 

Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse. 

-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?

-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing

-i bet you looked good too. bastard

-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me 

-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your

You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?

The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.

It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse. 

Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.

The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste. 

Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do. 

Well, the only way to begin is by beginning. 

-lol hey good afternoon 

-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me

How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication? 

Yeah, definitely none of that. 

You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter. 

Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses. 

-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…

Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company. 

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text. 

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood. 

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer. 

“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”

“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself. 

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?

Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table. 

Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-” 

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.” 

All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face. 

You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately. 

You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?” 

“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling. 

You think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck you.” 

The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting. 

But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away. 

Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend. 

Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages. 

“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.

Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”

“I know what I said!"

"In your mouth-"

"Thank you!”

Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.

“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.

“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”

One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”

"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.

But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly. 

-I mean, if you’re paying…

-Of course I’ll pay haha 

-then count me in!

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful. 

“Seriously, shut up.” 

“You came here asking for my opinion!” 

“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt. 

See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak. 

You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.

He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz. 

Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady. 

He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it. 

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn. 

You should say something though, right? Right? 

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine. 

This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much. 

“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated. 

“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.” 

That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you. 

You definitely need to talk about this. 

Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this. 

You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks. 

He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"

Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.

"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.

His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."

You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #echo writes #if I missed any warnings/tags just let me know! #anyway uhh please enjoy. #I do have plans for a part 2 but nothing concrete #we'll see if I want to continue this lol

[piko-power]

It wasn't until the Knuckles Series trailer when I realized how much I love Sonic and Knuckles' dynamic.

Honestly, I'm just excited to see these two interact. I know the show's probably not gonna focus more on these two and more on Knuckles and Wade, but them interacting is something I NEED.

Especially since this is after Sonic 2 and they've become (brothers) friends after their confrontation and after Sonic finds out that what Knuckles been through as a child is the same as what Sonic himself went through.

I just wanted to talk about Sonic and Knuckles' growth in their friendship and in themselves and how it makes me feel at the moment because their relationship and brotherhood is gonna drive me crazy and I need to tell EVERYTHING.

Everything will be under the cut since it's gonna be one hell of a ramble post. (btw if you tag this as ship I'll sell your kneecaps to the dark web)

At the beginning of the movie, Sonic suddenly got a visit from his worst enemy that he thought was banished to the dreaded Mushroom hellscape. He didn't expect him to bring any company, however.

An Echidna. The same species who nearly took Sonic's life and took Longclaw's.

Sonic only knew these Echidna best from the day where he lost everything. He couldn't save Longclaw in time from the Echidna tribe. He did blame himself, but deep down he was also mad at the Echidna.

So it was understandable that Sonic wouldn't be so pleased to see an Echidna in his house.

It's one thing if Robotnik came back, but a random Echidna who swore to destroy Sonic at any cost? Sonic ain't having none of that.

The Echidna took away something dear to him once, he won't let it happen again.

There's just one problem: Knuckles is WAY too strong for Sonic. He may have the speed, but he didn't have the punches like Knuckles.

Clearly it was quite a terrifying moment for Sonic. He couldn't fight back against the Echidna and he even knew about Longclaw.

From his POV, it was all shocking. Of course later on in the movie, he finds out that the Owls and Echidna were at war for the longest time over the Master Emerald.

So it's no wonder that Knuckles is after Sonic, who was raised by Longclaw.

So the fact that Sonic and Knuckles thought they were both bad guys is actually pretty messed up, since the Owls were the bad guys to the Echidna as well, so Knuckles thought that Sonic was the bad guy too.

MAN-

And after learning more about the Master Emerald, it was Sonic (and Tails') mission to make sure the Emerald is safe and make sure Robotnik BUT ESPECIALLY KNUCKLES don't get their hands on it.

Everything about Knuckles is a mystery to Sonic. He doesn't know a lot about him. All he knows is that he's after a giant gemstone full of ultimate power.

The power to turn thoughts into reality.

And since Sonic knows that Echidna only want power to themselves and other selfish needs, at least according to him, he knew Knuckles has to be stopped. Robotnik included, but now there is a new threat.

A threat Sonic wished would never come back to his life.

Meanwhile with Knuckles himself...

Knuckles never really thought about sticking around with Robotnik. He only needed his help to find the hedgehog. But after overhearing about ultimate power, Robotnik insists to join Knuckles on his journey.

Knuckles doesn't know a lot about Robotnik and was a first skeptical, but he seemed to be trustworthy. If he wanted to help Knuckles restore power to his people, then he would have to believe that maybe forming an alliance with this man won't be so bad.

After all,

When was the last time Knuckles had a friend? When was the last time Knuckles trusted someone? When was the last time someone liked him, or looked after him?

After what happened to his people?

The closest family member he had was his father, who he and his tribe never came back after their battle. Knuckles was left there, waiting for them to come back.

It eventually dawned on him that they'll never come back.

For the longest time, he went off on his own to find this hedgehog, for vengeance. And to find the Master Emerald in time before he does. (I think he believed he was searching for the Emerald as well.)

Throughout his journey in the galaxy, he came across some trouble along the way. Some scavengers straight up take him away and put him in a Rise of the TMNT ass arena. (You know the one I'm talking about. 😉)

Apparently word goes around about how Echidna are, and Knuckles didn't like this at all. (He won against the beast in case you're curious.)

He did gain some assistance on helping him find the hedgehog, but he wouldn't call them his friends. They are only there to help him without a choice after all.

What caught his and the scavengers' attention was the energy surge that spread through the galaxy from this planet invested with mushrooms.

The first thing he finds is this bald man with weird clothes and a blue quill that looked awfully familiar. This man knows where the hedgehog is and where to find him.

For a while, Knuckles been on his adventure alone after loosing his family. He thought he was better off alone on his journey, but after meeting Robotnik, he never knew that he would befriend this man.

He seems to be smart and makes all kinds of machines, and even has a goat milker. (The king of Bi Men, Agent Stone) If Robotnik can help him find the hedgehog, and the Master Emerald, then Knuckles is fine with being friends with this man.

He never had a friend before, he only had a father. A friend sounds nice. Who wouldn't be friends with Robotnik?

Sonic and Knuckles' view of each other shifted slightly during this scene, in Siberia.

Knuckles is tired of Sonic messing around, saying that he knows nothing about him. All Sonic knows is that his tribe is most famous for ruining his life. (Ouch)

Knuckles didn't take that kindly, stating that he lost everything because of you. His people, his father.

The reason why Knuckles' journey is important to him right now, was his father's last words to him:

"Your moment to honor our tribe will come, but it was not this moment."

Hmmm... That's sound really familiar...

Wait a minute...

WAIT A MINUTE...

"There will come a time where your powers will be needed... But you don't choose that moment. That moment chooses you."

Tom Wachowski said that. Sonic's father.

Those words were similar to what Knuckles' father told him... before he died.

Sonic really didn't know Knuckles. At all.

Yes, what Knuckles is doing is pretty bad. He still assume that Knuckles is gonna use the Emerald for something awful.

But after hearing Knuckles' story on what happened to his people and his father... After what happened to all those Echidna and Longclaw... After figuring out that him and Knuckles' trauma share similarities... After figuring out that they both lost something so important to them...

Sonic just felt... devastated. (The second image even looked like he's on the verge of tears finding out this information. 🥺)

He had zero clue Knuckles went through all that, and just trash talked his tribe right there. Hearing his story just... broke his heart.

He, too, lost everything that day. They both lost everything that day.

Knuckles didn't have to hunt down Sonic because of all that but he did, because since he was technically on the Owl's side, Sonic was also "responsible" for the demise of his tribe.

Knowing that Knuckles believes this just hurts Sonic more. To make things worse, Tails attacked at the wrong time, giving Knuckles the belief that Sonic was tricking him.

At this point of the fight, I believe Sonic doesn't want to fight this guy. Yes, he's on Robotnik's side, but he wished he wasn't.

He knows Robotnik and Knuckles doesn't. Robotnik might mess with the Echidna and just make things worse for him. If he is his ally, the first one he had maybe, then it won't be pretty if Robotnik does something stupid.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what happens next.

The next time they meet was in the Labyrinth, right where the Master Emerald is. Knuckles is done with Sonic's crap, and Sonic is going to stop him.

Sonic really didn't wanted to fight him anymore, and just wanted him and Robotnik to leave the Master Emerald...

But he's not given much choice.

A big fight broke off between two powerful critters over the Emerald, meanwhile Robotnik sneaks off to get the Master Emerald into his grasp.

Thankfully, before things got messy, Sonic pointed out that Robotnik was stealing the Emerald, and this infuriates Knuckles.

This man. This deceiving man, wished to join his side to take out the hedgehog just to take the Emerald for himself.

Robotnik himself even mocked at the fact that Knuckles believed that he and Robotnik were friends. The first friend he ever had, and he straight up betrayed him.

And just like that, he takes the Emerald and leaves. (or Chaos Controlled I think...?)

The place begins to flood and Knuckles gets trapped underwater. Sonic, not okay with the fact he has to go in the water, AGAIN, jumps in anyways to save him.

He cannot let this guy drown. He went through too much crap and he can't let this happen to him. He doesn't care that they fought, he wanted to save him.

Eventually he did, but...

Sonic couldn't swim. He tried to reach out for Knuckles who was getting further and further away from him. He nearly drowned but at the right moment, Knuckles came back down to save him.

They both have a moment together on the beach, throwing sand at each other. XD

Knuckles was confused on why Sonic saved him, despite the fact he tried to destroy him. He says that being a hero isn't about taking care of yourself, instead it's about taking responsibility for other people. Words from his own father.

While Tails was on his way to save Sonic, Knuckles mentions how he and Sonic lost everything and wonders how despite that and failing, how did he kept going?

Simple. He found a new family. New friends. And he can too.

Learning about Knuckles' childhood, and knowing what he been through, and witnessing Robotnik's betrayal to him, it's clear that he need to do something for Knuckles.

He knows that Knuckles isn't the bad guy, he was just used for Robotnik's deeds. Knuckles only wanted what was best for him and his people.

But Sonic knows now what Knuckles really needs.

A family.

Knuckles lost his and so did Sonic. He doesn't want Knuckles to be alone again. He's been alone for too long just like Sonic. He offers Knuckles to join him on his adventure.

But he also wanted him to join his family.

Knuckles is quite surprised about the offer. It's understandable.

All they've been doing whenever they meet is fight, but after learning about themselves, after a small quiet talk with each other, Sonic just...

Smiles and offers his hand. He doesn't want him to be alone anymore.

Knuckles just looks at him. It look liked he was unsure about the offer for a split second. But he's thinking about it, as Sonic smiled at him.

After everything they've done to each other, Sonic is willing to help him out and give him everything he truly needed without even knowing what he truly needed.

Sonic, according to Knuckles, is a strange hedgehog, but has a heart of gold. He seems to be strong too after all this time. He lost everything, but he never gave up. Not even once, even when things get tough.

He gained a new family because of that.

Knuckles respects that. Mentally anyway.

It will take some time to process and adjust everything, but if what Sonic's saying is true, about not being alone anymore...

Then Knuckles believes him.

After taking the offer, a lot happened afterwards.

Him and Sonic and Tails fight against a giant Eggman Mech.

He gave Robotnik a taste of his medicine and retrieve the Master Emerald before him and Tails fall to the ground.

He and Tails witnessed Tom, Maddie and Sonic getting crushed by Robotnik, before seeing that Sonic absorbed the power of the Emeralds.

Tries to protect Tom and Maddie from a possible corrupted Sonic, but then gets slapped by a chili dog.

He and his newfound friends made a vow to protect the Master Emerald.

And plays baseball for the first time with his friends and goes out for victory ice cream.

It's safe to say that Sonic and Knuckles' friendship means a lot to me than I thought. With the Knuckles series coming out, I am excited to see what will happen between them.

It's clear that it will be just older and younger brother shenanigans and I am all here for it.

I love their dynamic a lot, but now I'm a little obsessed with them at the moment. Their origins and their differences and how they grew together is really special to me.

I love Sonic and Tails' dynamic but Sonic and Knuckles' is something I never really thought of a lot until now.

Every time I watch Sonic 2, I just feel so happy for Knuckles now that he's got friends and family who love him and look out for him.

In fact, after watching Sonic 2 for the first time, almost two years ago, I loved Knuckles a lot. I used to think he was a fine character. I enjoy his character, but after watching the movie, he became one of my top 10 favorite characters.

I love him so much and I cannot wait to see more of my favorite version of Knuckles, and more of Sonic and Knuckles' interactions.

#piko rambles #sonic wachowski #miles tails wachowski #knuckles wachowski #movie robotnik #sonic movie 2020 #sonic movie 2 #knuckles series

[suzukiblu]

is there a way to read all of "JayKon soulmates, TimKon datemates, and the wrong Superboy." in one spot? going through the tag it's all jumbled, and it's one of my favorite fics of yours

Thank you! I like that one, I'm really pleased with how it's been coming out. ❤

Honestly, there is not an "all in one place" version of it, though, so have this read-more that will fix that problem for you, friend. This is the whole WIP so far (barring, like, some out-of-order bits that have not yet been woven into the larger whole, haha).

.

There's a couple of ways to ID a soulmate, but the traditional–and usual–one is a kiss. Basically any exchange of bodily fluids will do it, of course, but most people kiss way before they get around to fucking bareback and a kiss is also definitely less likely to result in hepatitis than swapping blood with strangers. And, like, it's also more romantic and that tends to appeal to people more even when the involved soulmates aren't actually romantic. It's way easier to laugh off that one time you slipped your destined BFF tongue than it is to explain a bloodborne illness to your GP. 

So naturally, Jason finds out who his soulmate is by accidentally bleeding all over the guy in the middle of a random stupid throwdown with supervillains in San Francisco.

Also, naturally said guy is Tim's boyfriend who still justifiably hates Jason's ass for all the fucked-up shit he's done and said to Tim. 

Jason is pretty sure this would count as another reason for Superboy to hate his ass, except the one mercy in this situation is that Superboy was unconscious for their accidental blood-swap, so he at least doesn't know they're soulmates. 

The lucky bastard.

Fuck everything, Jason thinks, and then resolves to never think about it again. Which he doesn't, because even having a thought around Bruce is basically the same thing as handing the bastard a signed confession. 

It sucks, admittedly? Like, Jason's not gonna pretend it doesn't suck. He didn't ever think he'd get a coffee shop meet-cute with his soulmate, assuming he had enough of a soul left to actually have one, but he'd at least expected to get somebody who wasn't already dating the brother he's treated worst and who did not, ideally, hate his guts. 

Or who at least hated his guts in a sexy way that could result in a nice enemies-with-benefits situation to spice up his sex life and maybe hopefully one day evolve into . . . he doesn't know, frenemies-with-benefits? Or something? 

Superboy is not gonna be up for cheating on his boyfriend with said boyfriend's adoptive brother, Jason is very damn sure. For one thing, if he was, Jason wouldn't want to fuck him anyway, much less be his soulmate. Jason is a murderer and a bastard but he is also a ride or die, okay, and he doesn't give a shit what the universe says, there is no damn way that he'd accept a soulmate like that. 

Also, like, since the accidental blood-swap went down, now when they get close enough there's an empathy bond going and Jason can absolutely feel how fucking besotted Superboy is by every little thing Tim does and says and just is. 

And he can also feel how much the guy hates him. 

Jason has never had better control of his pit rage than since realizing that if Superboy ever felt it, it'd be absolutely undeniably obvious what it was and where it was coming from. 

It is fucking amazing what a desperate person can get a handle on. Like, really. 

Jason went to fucking therapy for this shit. It sucks and he hates it and he wants to burn down the whole stupid office every time, but he's still going every week because fuck forbid he lose control enough that somebody realize something is up. 

Jason's self-control is not helped by the fact that Superboy has his own anger issues, but it's not like they get all that close to each other all that often anyway. He very rarely has to worry about Superboy picking up on anything from him. Mostly he just has to worry about not being any worse to Tim than he already has been and making excuses to avoid any situation that Superboy might theoretically pop up in. He has absolutely no designs on fucking up Tim's relationship. Ever. 

He guesses he and Superboy could have a platonic bond, admittedly. Like, that's possible.

Except Superboy constantly insists on wearing a painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather and strappy belts and looking like a porn star parody of a superhero, along with regularly smirking like a cocky asshole who just so happens to be the second coming of sin, and Jason has a very difficult time not finding all of that just unspeakably hot, so that seems unlikely. 

So yeah, Jason's definitely not telling anyone that they're soulmates. Possibly ever. At least not as long as Superboy and Tim are still into each other and in undeniably perfect romantic love, anyway. 

It's not like Jason's waiting for them to break up or something, or for the probably likelier but much more upsetting option that is Tim fucking dying. He's a bastard, again, but he's not that kind of a bastard.

He really hopes this is just one of those bullshit bonds that don't actually become relevant until the involved bondmates are, like, octogenarians or whatever. Which is not something Jason would've ever expected to want from his soulmate, but Jason also did not ever expect his soulmate to turn out to be Tim's boyfriend, so yeah. Well, life's a bitch and also full of surprises. 

It's impossible to always avoid Superboy, all things considered, but Jason usually can, and thanks to Bat-training and his time with the League and just who he is as a person he's very good at keeping his emotions on lockdown when the dude's around without it actually looking like he's keeping his emotions on lockdown. Mostly he just ignores him and acts like he thinks he's irrelevant, and Superboy seems perfectly happy with that. 

But again, it's impossible to always avoid him, and they're on the same side and everything, more or less. Jason therefore can't technically bitch about the guy randomly landing in the middle of his rooftop stakeout wearing that cocky asshole smirk of his and also his painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather. 

Or he couldn't, except that it is very obviously not actually Superboy wearing all those things. For starters, Superboy never wears that smirk when he's looking at Jason.

For another thing, Jason knows his own damn soulmate when he sees him. Like, he is not actually that oblivious or stupid a person as to not recognize his own damn soulmate. 

"Hey, man," fake Superboy greets casually as his boots hit the roof. Jason runs the internal numbers on whether or not fake Superboy has real Kryptonian powers and decides better safe than sorry, then hits the panic button hidden in the collar of his jacket as he turns to fully face him, making the gesture look like an idle adjustment. 

"Robin need something?" he asks, cocking his head questioningly. Seems wisest to pretend like he's falling for this bullshit, whatever it is. Especially if Kryptonian powers are currently a concern. 

"Naw," the fake Superboy says, his smirk widening crookedly. "This one's an . . . off-the-books social call, as it were." 

"Oh, we make social calls, now?" Jason asks dryly, resisting the irrational urge to hit his panic button again. Not actually a helpful urge, that. The thing's already streaming live audio and video to Oracle and the Batcomputer to get everyone in the loop on what the problem is, that's all that matters. Extra hitting would just make it likelier that fake Superboy might notice something. 

"Maybe I just wanted to see you, Hood," fake Superboy says as his smirk turns into a wicked grin, and then steps towards Jason with very familiar and incredibly unsubtle body language that, again, has never once been directed towards him. 

Goddammit. 

Well, good thing Jason hit his panic button, because there is no damn way this is ending well. He's never actually used the thing before, it's a recent addition to his gear now that he and the Bats are actually mostly working together again, but he already appreciates said addition very, very much. 

Assuming that Bruce is packing kryptonite tonight, anyway. 

Fuck, he'd better be. 

. . . also assuming that whoever this fake Superboy is happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Or at least currently happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Jason's not sure if this is like a bodyswap situation or a more traditional possession or just a doppelganger or a shapeshifter, but who the hell even knows. Not mind control, he's pretty sure, unless it's the kind that really fucks with somebody's personality. Like, yes, that is Superboy's body language and Superboy's facial expressions and even Superboy's microexpressions, but it's just . . . not Superboy behind any of it. Like, very obviously not. 

. . . weirdly obviously, actually. Like, Jason's really feeling the uncanny valley right now. 

Ugh. 

Well, hopefully this person or thing or weird psychic projection thinks he's fucking stupid. 

"Did you now," Jason says, eyeing fake Superboy through his helmet. Schooling his expression doesn't really matter right now, except of course X-ray vision is a thing, so actually never mind, maybe it does. Again: goddammit. 

Definitely gonna need to keep a handle on his heart rate here.

"Eh, what can I say, Rob was being a basic bitch again and I got bored," fake Superboy says with a dismissive shrug, which is something Jason would pistol-whip the real Superboy for saying but at least provides him a pretty solid script to go off while he waits for reinforcements to show. 

He'd rather be making with the pistol-whipping, though. 

"'Bored', huh," he says instead because if this is somebody hitching a ride in or fully copying Superboy's body, there is no fucking way that he is coming out on top in a one-v-one with a Kryptonian hybrid. He might be able to get away, maybe, but then he'd be leaving a probably pissed-off fake Superboy with free rein on his territory and every reasonably innocent person in it. 

Yeah, that seems like a stupid idea. 

"What can I say, I like a bad boy," fake Superboy says, smirking at him again. Jason would be embarrassingly into that smirk, if not for the fact that it's not Superboy wearing it. Right now, he just wants to deck this fucker. "Don't you?" 

"I could maybe see the appeal," Jason says, though he doesn't usually. Honestly, he's more a romantic than anything else. He knows he won't ever get that, especially considering what he's done and who his soulmate is and how very, very disgustingly in love with his brother said soulmate is, but–not the point. Either way, Jason's not gonna be honest about his taste in partners with a damn fake version of his goddamn soulmate. 

"Yeah, I bet you could," fake Superboy says with a wider smirk as he steps in a little closer, all the way into Jason's personal space. All of Jason's internal alarms go off, his spine prickling in restless discomfort. 

He really, really hopes Bruce is packing kryptonite tonight. 

“We're taking bets now?” Jason snorts dubiously. Fake Superboy grins at him, and it's worse than the smirking because it's not just a suggestive come-on, it's one of the pleased looks the real Superboy would never give him. Something he saves for Tim or Steph or Dick or literally just anyone else. He's pretty sure he's seen him grin like that at Bruce, even. 

Though it admittedly does lack some of its usual effect when Jason can't feel any of the emotions behind it. 

“You can take anything you want, Hood,” fake Superboy purrs, skimming a hand up Jason's chest. If he were Superboy, this would be the part where Jason called him an asshole and asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing, except if he were Superboy he'd never actually be doing this. Superboy loves Tim. Adores him. And he's not a desperate for attention teenager anymore, much less this kind of a selfish fucking prick. 

So Jason is just stuck on this stupid fucking roof with a stupid fucking fake, and this fucking funhouse mirror is the closest he's ever getting to his own fucking soulmate. 

The wait on this damn panic button better be a short one. 

“‘Anything’, huh,” he says, folding his arms. The fake Superboy gives him another smirk and taps his fingers against the underside of Jason's jaw, just where his helmet fastens. 

The fastener clicks, and his helmet falls apart and falls right off him and into fake Superboy's hands. Jason should've left the bomb in it. 

Tactile telekinesis. Okay. So the fucker does have access to Superboy's powers, one way or another. 

Fuck. 

At least Jason wore his domino tonight. He doesn't know what this asshole actually knows, and he might be legally dead, but compromising any Bat-related identities is still not the place to start. 

“You're too damn hot to wear this clunky-ass thing all the time, you know,” fake Superboy says, turning over Jason's helmet in his hands and still smirking at him. Jason would really like to make with the pistol-whipping right now. “Real waste of a pretty face.” 

“We don't all have bulletproof skulls,” Jason says dryly, and fake Superboy laughs. 

“You'd be bulletproof if I got my hands on you,” fake Superboy points out casually, which is not actually an application of TTK Jason was aware of but does raise a lot of questions he is not going to internally explore. Ever.

“Who said you were getting your hands on me?” he says, and the fake Superboy laughs and taps his fingers against Jason’s helmet. 

“Dunno,” he says, tilting his head with a sly expression. “I wouldn’t mind it the other way around either, though.” 

Fuck his life, Jason thinks. 

“I’m on the clock here, you realize,” he says, and fake Superboy laughs again and then pulls a mock-pout. 

“C’mon, Hood. Told you, I’m bored,” he says, somehow actually managing to find the space to step in closer without quite touching him. His grin is a sharp, glittering thing. “Play hooky with me.” 

This panic button cannot possibly work fast enough, Jason thinks. 

“Fuck it, whatever,” he says, because fake Superboy is clearly not taking no for an answer here and he just needs to buy a little time for someone to get here. Hell, even if fake Superboy were taking no for an answer, he’d probably still want to keep the asshole around as opposed to letting him slip off and put on who knows who else’s face. Better to get him while they’ve got him clocked, one way or the other. “It’s been dead all night anyway. What do you want?” 

Fake Superboy’s grin widens. If he was the real one, Jason would want to bite him over that expression. Unfortunately, he’s not the real one. Again: fuck his fucking life. 

“For starters, bet I could liven things up for you,” fake Superboy purrs, and then he props Jason’s helmet on his cocked hip and braces his free hand on the bricks behind him, leaning in close with an absolutely smug “coy” expression. Jason considers biting him in the not fun way. 

Eh, no, he’d probably just break his fucking teeth. 

It’s a fucking temptation, though. 

“Yeah?” Jason drawls dubiously. “Big talk for a Super.” 

Fake Superboy snickers. 

“Yeah, they tell me I’ve got a big mouth,” he says with an obvious leer. “Wanna see?” 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jason asks, curling his lip in irritation, and fake Superboy laughs. 

And then actually kisses him, the fucking shit. 

Jason barely manages not to punch him for it. Again, he’d just break his knuckles. 

The fake Superboy sticks his tongue in Jason's mouth and Jason gets absolutely no sense of a soulmate bond, so whatever's going on, Superboy is definitely not in the driver's seat right now, or just not home at all or what the fuck ever. So yeah, that's a no on mind control and probably also possession, and definitely not the effects of red or black K. Not that the total lack of empathy bond response all this time hadn't already proven that pretty damn thoroughly, considering. 

Also, the real Superboy's always had a rep as a flirt and if nothing else definitely spends way too much time in Tim's back pocket to not be a better kisser than this by now. Seriously, Jason refuses to believe that he is not, if only for Tim's sake. This prick kisses like he barely understands the concept.

Fucking figures, Jason thinks, and crushes their mouths together. 

Fake Superboy kisses like a fucking middle schooler, and Jason is absolutely exasperated about having to put up with it. Like–it’d be one thing if it was actually Superboy kissing him like this, and if Superboy wasn’t dating his fucking brother. Then he’d probably think it was funny. Or even kind of cute, honestly, especially with how the guy preens and postures and plays it up. 

And then he’d get to teach him how to kiss better, too, and fucking relish the process. 

This, unfortunately, is not that situation. This is just some asshole wearing the face of the hottest bastard Jason knows and not doing it justice with his sub-par kissing skills.

. . . actually–“her” sub-par kissing skills, maybe? Jason actually has no fucking clue if this is a man or a woman, does he. For all he knows this is an actual middle schooler, which holy fucking Christ, is an absolutely disgusting thought. If this is some kid with shapeshifting powers who somebody coached into this, Jason is going to crack out the good ol’ bloody duffel bag and start collecting heads again. 

He’s pretty sure they’re not, at least, because they might suck at kissing but they don’t move like their body is too big or anything like that. Then again, they don’t move like their body doesn’t fit either, so their powers might be accounting for that. Or–whatever they’ve currently got going. Maybe it’s a fucking spell or maybe it is possession and the muscle memory is keeping Superboy’s body moving at least semi-normally. Again: this asshole has this act down to the microexpressions. 

It’s just so, so screamingly obviously fake all the same, though. 

Jason breaks off the kiss to bare his teeth at said fake, who grins at him all crooked and sultry-warm. Jason, again, debates the merits of breaking his knuckles on this asshole’s face. 

“You can’t kiss for shit,” Jason says bluntly, because only a fucking idiot wouldn’t notice that anyway, and fake Superboy laughs. 

“Aw, you don’t like it like Rob does?” he asks teasingly, his grin widening as he leans forward a little heavier on the arm he has against the bricks. Jason is absolutely fucking offended that fake Superboy is trying to convince him that any brother of his would ever settle for kissing that fucking mediocre, much less like it. As fucking if. “Why don’t you show me what you like, Hood? I’ll roll out the red carpet."

Jason should tase this piece of shit. Jason should <i>shoot</i> this piece of shit. Unfortunately, this still might be Superboy’s body even without him in it, and he didn’t pack kryptonite tonight either way. Assuming, again, that kryptonite would even work. 

He’s absolutely never skipping the kryptonite again, though. Not after this bullshit. He’s going full Lex Luthor and getting himself a pair of kryptonite brass knuckles, in fact. And not in blue: he’s going green. 

“You really think I wanna hear about Robin right now?” he says in the hopes the fucker will shut up a little, and fake Superboy just smirks and loops his arm around his neck, pressing fully up against him. Jason is wearing body armor, obviously, but that doesn’t make him feel particularly safe right now. The TTK alone would be an issue, even discounting Kryptonian strength. Fake Superboy could flatten him like a fucking panini with about as much effort as actually making a panini would take right now. 

So like, that’s a concern. 

“So still the jealous type, huh?” fake Superboy purrs, tilting his head a little. He’s much better at “come-hither” looks than he is at kissing, Jason can’t help noticing, which is fucking irritating. He’s also still got Jason’s helmet held against his hip. Jason is weirdly annoyed by that. “How about I just call you ‘Robin’ tonight, then?” 

Jason did so much therapy to not have this exact fucking fucked-up sexual fantasy. Just so much. 

He is definitely shooting this shithead before the night is over. 

“Try it and I’ll shoot you in the fucking dick,” he says flatly, because there’s playing along and there’s shit he just cannot truck with, and fake Superboy laughs.

“Kinky,” he says approvingly. Jason thinks longingly of kryptonite. 

He really, really hopes kryptonite works on this fucker. It’d have to, right? TTK isn’t exactly a standard-issue superpower; the fake’s got to at least have copied Superboy’s body, and that means copying his vulnerabilities. 

Hopefully. 

Of course, Jason doesn’t actually know jack shit about what’s actually going on here and narrowing it down isn’t working half as well as it could be, so . . . fuck if he actually knows if it’d work. 

He really doesn’t appreciate not being prepared in a crisis. Like–that is the literal antithesis of his entire fucking approach to life, is what it is. 

He’s going to need an extra therapy session this week, he’s pretty sure. Possibly several. Maybe he’ll just call his therapist first thing after they wrap this bullshit up, actually, assuming he survives it. That might be for the best. 

Or literally psychologically fucking necessary so he won’t snap and turn into a literal supervillain. One or the other. 

“You’re seriously overestimating my patience, Superboy,” he says flatly. The fake looks pleased, presumably because he still thinks Jason’s falling for this stupid act. 

“Don’t be such a pill,” fake Superboy says, smirking at him. The idea of pistol-whipping him sounds better and better. It’s almost definitely not gonna work, yeah, but that doesn’t mean Jason wouldn’t try it. “Why don’t you just be nice to me, and I’ll give you plenty of reasons not to be jealous tonight. Or at least don’t bore me as bad as Rob’s been, if nothing else."

Jason is going to burn down . . . mmmmmaybe all of Gotham tonight, actually. Like. Just all of it. Completely. Entirely.

#anonymous #wip: jaykon soulmates and timkon datemates

[aroaceleovaldez]

hey! hope this isn't weird but i wanted to know why you think artemis wasn't up to standards even in the original pjo series. you reblogged from me and so i had front row to your tags on the post about zeus jaja i've not seen people talk a lot about her and it got me interested as i'm a classics student!

- @zoebelladona 🌙

HELLO OH BOY okay so I have half a rant already about Artemis in terms of Rick and general aphobic tropes in the series. see: that open letter on twitter. i still need to transfer that to tumblr. fun fact: Rick replied to that post but deleted his reply at some point. probably because two replies after he replied to my post and word-of-god confirmed Reyna to be ace-coded he left social media for a bit.

Fun times! Anyways.

The thing I dislike about Artemis as she's depicted in the series, besides her constantly appearing as a teenager and the aphobic tropes with that [see: open letter linked above] - which on some level is slightly more excusable than other examples given she's a goddess of young women, but given how he writes Athena, Hestia, and the Hunt instead leaves a bad taste in my mouth - and other similar aphobic tropes with her, is her whole weird anti-men thing (which is also, in itself, also an aphobic trope in this particular circumstance). I understand TTC was written in 2007 so that flavor of radical feminism that Artemis and the Hunt is clearly supposed to be was only just coming into major public awareness and the flaws in the ideology (and the inherent bigotry, particularly transphobia and racism that often comes with it) weren't as well recognized at the time. But in hindsight it leaves a really bad taste in my mouth for obvious reasons and is one of the things from the first series that severely aged poorly in my opinion, and I greatly dislike that in every subsequent retcon of the Hunt for other reasons Rick more or less retains that aspect.

Secondly... it doesn't make sense from a mythological standpoint? Because there are multiple examples of men being Hunters in Artemis' retinue. Even ignoring Orion, no matter how you go about shaking that stick (which for the record I really dislike how Rick retconned him in the series/wrote him in HoO), Hippolytus is a very notable example. Literally his big whole original shtick was he joined the Hunt because he didn't like romance and Aphrodite got so pissed about him not needing her (romance) that she killed him. And even when Aphrodite was trying to ruin his life he held on to his virtues and vow to Artemis (refusing advances even when his life was on the line). He is otherwise totally chill and devoted to Artemis. Some versions of his myth has Artemis have him resurrected after he dies (by Asclepius, which is why Asclepius is punished for reviving the dead). This also obviously doesn't address the major glaring logical flaw in Artemis hating all men which is... Apollo. Especially within the series he seems to be an exception for no reason, despite Artemis also very overtly having a "brothers are not an exception to the no-men rule." And from a modern queer standpoint, it obviously begs the question of stuff like gender identity within the Hunt and if you bring back the radfem stuff it gets real bad vibes real fast. Which also sucks when you particularly look at historical/mythological descriptions of Apollo and Artemis and how they very poignantly encompass defying gender roles and expectations particularly within their cultural contexts.

And every time Rick tries to retcon the Hunt, he somehow manages to make it kind of worse, particularly with the oath. I have a whole personal thing for how I think to best rectify all that nonsense in a way that isn't horrible and is related to some of Artemis' aspects in a more sensible way (buried somewhere in this monster of a post. Honestly i'd just recommend ctrl + f search "Hunters" on that post and it should be somewhere near the first ping there). In there I also go into some of my other thoughts for the general meh way the Hunt is written in the series, mostly being aphobic tropes and random death fodder.

So yeah. Basically, tl;dr: I am personally not a huge fan of how Artemis in the series is halfway to being a terf and chock-full of aphobic tropes. And I need Rick to stop retconning things into the ground.

#pjo #riordanverse #hunters of artemis #artemis pjo #analysis #< yeah sure it warrants that tag #ask to tag #zoebelladona #ask #i really need to transfer that open letter rant to tumblr #still amused that rick replied to it within like an hour of me posting it but clearly didnt read it #long post // #also heads up this is only like half-proofread cause i'm ill right now #so i apologize if it's nonsensical at all

[angelltheninth]

Mutual Satisfaction

Pairing: Angel Dust x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, masturbation, fingering, handjob, voyeurism, brief blowjob, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, hair-pulling

Word count: 1.3k

Kinktober Day 3: Masturbation

A/N: I didn't know what do for this kinktober prompt for the longest time and then, as usual, it the idea hit me right as I was about to go to sleep.

You knew that Angel was living in a slightly shady part of the Pentagram and honestly you were a little scared when your boss Valentino asked you to go check up on him since he hasn't been to work in a few days.

It wasn't because the Overlord was worried, well he was but not really about Angel's physical wellbeing, at least not for the right reasons, he just didn't want his biggest star to be out of commission for long. So who else to send than his second biggest star?

You let out a heavy sigh as you finally walked up the stairs and turned into the hallway Angel's apartment was located in. You've gotten a few looks on your way to the building but you knew very well that no demon would actually dare tough you. Not with you being Valentino's second favorite.

You knock on the door once, twice. No answer. Maybe there's something really wrong with him?

Slowly you try the door handle. The door opens with a low, sad creaking noise. The inside of his apartment is surprisingly tidy, a lot more then you expected actually. Then again Angel always kept his appearance in top shape so it was only natural that his apartment was at least clean. If in need of some repair here and there, but overall much nicer looking than the rest of the building.

Still no sign of Angel Dust though, only his cute demon piglet sleeping on the couch.

Maybe he was in his bedroom, you could see a dim light coming from somewhere so you decided to take slow steps just in case he really was feeling unwell and you were disturbing him.

You only took a few steps before you heard his familiar voice, high pitched and in thorns of pleasure, like you heard him in the Studio or his movies. Did he have someone over?

You approached even slower, sneaking towards the door and peaking through. He didn't have anyone over, but he was naked. On his bed, on his knees sucking a dark pink dildo and jerking off his dick, a pool of cum already on the sheets. His eyes were shut closed and he moaned as he pulled the dildo out with a wet pop, "Shit. Fuck yes."

His little moans, the sight of him, the fact that he was clearly enjoying himself that damn much send a wave of wetness between your legs. Your hand found a way between your legs, almost as if hypnotized by the sight. It was wrong to get off on him like this, you knew that, but you couldn't help but slide down the wall, on the opposite side of the open door so you could still see him and slide a finger inside yourself, biting your lip as you felt your walls closing in around your finger.

With your other hand you hiked up your shirt and bra, palming at your left breasts, rolling your nipple into a hardened peak, all the while still watching Angel's hand rub his dick up and down and trying to keep up pace with him.

You could feel your body heating up fast, watching him was in person was much more of an experience then seeing him on video. "Fuck. Ah!" You bit your lip to stifle your moan, your head thudding against the wall as you plunged your fingers in and out, obscene, wet noises following every movement.

"Well what do we have 'ere?" Your eyes snapped open only to meet Angel's own as he leaned against the doorframe, his cock still hard in his hand and a knowing smile on his face, "Here for a free show sweetheart? Or maybe yer lookin' ta give me one?" His eyes lowered to between your legs. You closed them quickly, your ears burning and your hands suddenly still.

"I-I'm sorry! Mister Valentino sent me and- I should have said something when I came-"

"Ya haven't come yet doll, but ya look like yer close. It just so happens that I am too. So why stop know?" He winked at you and walked up to you until his dick was inches from your face, his hand resuming the up and down motion from before, "Go on, I ain't mad. I know for a fact that yer hot stuff. I've seen yer movies before, gotta support my fellow sluts."

Encouraged by his words you added another finger, eyes going up and down his body. Now you could see that his short fuzz was slightly damp from the sweat, but he still smelled very sweet, like cherries and strawberries.

He was like a walking, talking aphrodisiac.

"Damn. Yer like a bitch in heat. Just look at that cunt taking those fingers. Not surprised. I've seen how much ya can take. Yer so pretty ya know that? Ya got a real talent." His eyes lower to your breasts, "And such pretty tits. Let me help ya out." One of his hands tangled into your hair, fisting into it lightly, one rubbing over the angry tip of his cock every time he stroked his length and the fourth reached down and cupped your other tit, rolling the pad of his finger around your stiff nipple.

"Pinch it." You breathe out as you arch into his touch. Angel chuckles and does as you asked, slowly rolling the stiff bud between his thumb and index finger. "Like that. I-I'm close. Fuck. Oh!"

"I know sweetheart, I know. Show me. Show me how sexy you are when you come on your fingers." You mewled at his words, doubling your efforts, driving the heel of your palm against your clit with every flick of your wrist. It only took a few more strokes for you to reach your peak, shouting it out with no shame or any need to hold back. You pushed your fingers deep inside, keeping them in your tightening, repelling walls as they spasmed and twitched. "I'm close too! Open up doll, open up for me, take your reward."

Without thinking you opened your mouth wide, tongue falling out to catch thick, hot ropes of cum he shoot out, some of it getting on your face from the close proximity.

Angel growled through his release. His hand left your breast and joined the other in your hair. The next thing you knew you were tasting his cock as it made it's way into your mouth, making you moan in surprise.

"It's so warm. So wet. I usually charge more to ladies but, damn ya can suck me off whenever ya want if this is a taste of what ya can do. Yer being a very good little slut right now, yeah ya are. Yer doing such a good job." He bucked his hips quickly and with no rhythm at all, making you gag every time you felt the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat.

When you finally felt him start to pull out you made sure to suck a little bit extra around his tip, which made him hum and gently pat your head.

"I made a little mess of ya eh?" Angel grinned down at you as he offered you his hand to help you up. You accepted, but realized too late that it was with your cum covered hand.

"Oh, sorry about that." You pulled away trying to wipe it off on your shirt. Angel just chuckled and shook his head.

"I've seen far nastier sweetheart. Now come on, let's go wash up yeh? Then ya can tell me what Val wanted from me. I told him I'd be back in a few, just needed ta get something sorted out with two crazy chicks I've met. One of them had the craziest idea for a hotel I've ever heard. It's gonna crack ya up when ya hear 'bout it." Angel laughed as he led you by the hand to through his bedroom and into the small shower to tell you all about the crazy hotel idea.

It really was crazy. A hotel to redeem sinners? Who was stupid enough to try that?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust imagine #angel dust smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #kinktober

[rodolfoparras]

from the rdr2 ask

r is reader akssjsjs 😭 and rdr2 is like 1899 wild west cowboys set in usa (for context)

I'm thinking r gets up on his horse (who's actually a horse of one of the men he killed), he looks back once again, the white of his eyes standing out in the blood covering his face, and catches gaz's eyes. it's a silent goodbye, but not one on a good note. r gallops away from where the 141 has set camp, not knowing where to go next or even where he's going to get a meal or sleep tonight. honestly he fall asleep right now from how exhausted he is from the fight and the lack of sleep the last few days, but he keeps riding till he's certain no one has followed him, then finds a nice tree to pass out under.

meanwhile, back at the camp, gaz is at a loss of words. people he considered family, people that Are his family lied to him about you. worse than that, they left you out to die, after gaz had been the one to save you. when they first met you, you were apprehensive of tagging along w them, not wanting to be a burden, and gaz reassured you it's okay. and all he can think of now is how you must think that gaz's promises meant nothing. and he knows you'd be right to think so when the people he trusted the most have betrayed him like this. he asks them one simple thing, "why?" he didn't shout or look angry, but everyone knew better than to think he wasn't. he was fuming.

"kyle, you can't expect us to just up and trust some stranger. you know we have plans in motion, plans that we can't risk anyone else getting the wind of..." price spoke up.

"so you left him to die? if that is what we are now, I want no part of it," gaz said, and he could almost see soap's eyes bulge out at the insinuation of leaving. they might be wary of outsiders, but they still love gaz dearly. and gaz loves them too, and deep down he knows he could never really leave them.

"i wasn't going to wait for him to slit our throats in our sleep, yeah?" soap said in frustration and a second later price and ghost had to break gaz's grip on his throat, pushing them apart.

"why do you even care so much, eh? in love w the lad or what?" soap coughs out, and the look on gaz's face says everything. first the knowledge of gaz possibly caring about this stranger sinks in, then comes the dread of what they did to the man gaz cared about, their heads now hanging low. ghost tries to say smth, but it's too late and gaz is storming off, trying to find some place to be alone.

he settles down near the stream, he tells himself he has to accept the fact that he might never see you again. that is if you're alive. he's so worried about you, wondering how you manage the injuries all on your own, just one horse to keep you company, the blood soaked clothes on your back, and not much else. by god, he's so worried about you he could cry. and he knows even if he sees you again, you'll want nothing to do w him. he can't go after you. he can't bear to see the faces of his family, the people he asked you to trust, after they've all but stabbed you in the back. so he sits alone, and thinks and think and thinks.

he thinks about how you must've felt, when left alone in the middle of an already unfair gunfight. he can't imagine what that feeling of being completely alone in the middle of certain death must've felt like. but then he thinks about how you made it out anyways. always fighting death. he thinks of how he's seen you survive against all odds, cheating death twice in the time he's known you. he hopes that you live through the aftermath of the fight too. and he hopes to find you again some time. he hopes he can get the chance to apologize and maybe, just maybe you'll believe him. he wants to hold you, he wants to tell you all the things he wasn't brave enough to in the 10 weeks you travelled w them. he hopes he hasn't missed his chance.

-❕️

SUGAR THIS WAS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL READ IM BEING SO SERIOUS THIS IS SO WELL WRITTEN I LOVED THIS you can genuinely feel how sad gaz is for reader and how torn he feels being in the position that he is in it’s also very clear he absolutely loves reader please 🧎🏻‍♂️ BUT WHY ANOTHER CLIFF HANGER IM GOING TO SCREAM

#alec answers #❕anon