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Ding - Round 6

Read Ding here | ~6.3k words

Warnings: some smut 18+ only, oral, fingering, cockwarming if you squint; angst, car accident, trauma dumping, sucky parental figure. Please read with caution. You might also see one of my cliffhangers.

From me: I feel like the beginning is messy to read--almost like it's out of nowhere? But it's pretty intentional, tbh. I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Hope you like it 💕

Summary: Cupcake and Harry are busy. Harry has his big fight. Cupcake was right about throwing her life out of balance by adding in a boyfriend. They miss each other. They don't know how to deal with that either. At least not while they're apart.

It was not Harry’s fault. Even though he thought it was.

But to be fair, it wasn’t her fault either. Even if she felt it was.

Harry grew into adulthood knowing he was stubborn. Everyone in his life told him so. It was obvious. He didn’t get to be an undefeated champion without grit. His entire gym was named as a near synonym of the word. But she continued to surprise him, and it was clear that he had very much met his match—she was competing for his crown of stubbornness. If Harry wasn’t so mad about his current state, he might even acknowledge that she was winning.

At first everything was new and completely fine. He was enamored with her. Finally she was all his. He took her on a real date—several real, authentic dates. He danced around with her in the bakery kitchen. Brought her food for movie nights in her apartment. (He also licked her when the movie lost his attention, and she looked too good to be sitting there without his head between her legs.) He even brought her bouquets of flowers simply because it was Monday.

She stayed at his place, wrapped close to him. It was as if they had done it for years. When he woke up early for a run, she joined him, assuring him to go ahead and circle back for her since he ran way better and faster than she did. But he enjoyed the way she massaged his muscles in the shower most. (The way she wrapped her hand around his dick most of all.) She made him breakfast before they left for work and Harry thought if the bakery wasn’t to her liking she could open a breakfast place as a second choice.

She chatted with Sarah while he worked out and trained. Without any kind of asking, she helped clean equipment when he needed to focus more on training. She organized his desk in his office because it was a disaster and it stressed her out. Whenever she cleaned, she hummed and didn’t notice. It made Harry fall deeper in love with her. Every moment he was with her was magical.

Until she was exhausted.

He missed her. For the first time in his life, he had felt completely in love with someone. The way he wanted to be in love. He finally had that. They were inseparable. Nights spent cocooned under Harry’s covers. His finger tracing her features in the dark. “So pretty,” he murmured.

“You can’t even see me,” she whispered.

“S’how I know you’re so pretty. Can feel it.”

So not having that for two weeks was like trying to swim through cement.

She had what could only be called a complete meltdown. Frosting and cupcakes everywhere. She was overwhelmed—said yes to too many functions in a row and spread herself too thin. She was frustrated with Harry and his time training and just missed him.

But she didn’t say it.

Because Harry was frustrated too. He tried to help her, but she didn’t let him in. There was the whole not knowing her family—even though she had effectively wormed her way into Mum and Gemma’s heart. Though he wasn’t surprised in the slightest; honestly, he thought his niece liked her more than Harry and she had only met her twice.

So, when she exploded, for lack of a better word, it was magnificent. It was nothing he had ever seen before. The exhaustion in her eyes, the worry on her face, the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Harry was sick with worry and frustration just to hear her cry but was nearly impressed. The cupcakes overturned on the floor were nothing in comparison to the way she cried.

“Cupcake, you are overreact—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” she hissed at him. That was entirely on him. Gem had taught him better than to tell a woman she was overreacting.

“Lemme take something off your plate, kitten,” he tried instead. He was ignoring her frustrated tears even though he wanted to brush them away. “Tell me what’s going on,” he figured it had something to do with her dad because she kept checking her phone and she hadn’t mentioned going to see him in over a week. But her car was overdue for an oil change, and she didn’t want to drive it that far but hadn’t a moment to deal with it. She also complained about something regarding her eyebrows, but Harry didn’t fully understand it because quite honestly, he had never thought about her eyebrows.

But if it meant caring for herself, he wished he pushed further.

Their schedules hadn’t lined up in two weeks. No more than an hour or two alone. She saw him plenty while she chatted with Sarah at the gym while he trained or worked. He and Maeve had started a competition of who could sprinkle the most cupcakes in fifteen minutes (Harry was willing to admit defeat once in his life—he would never beat Maeve) even though she didn’t like that they were having fun when she was stressed.

They hadn’t practiced her self-defense moves in nearly a month.

So, it felt like her fault.

But what she hadn’t anticipated was Harry’s sour attitude reflecting right back at her. Harry didn’t take her frustration lying down. He snapped back at her which felt so heinous to do but he was grumpy.

But he was tired of arguing with her. Tired of feeling frustrated, begging her to let him in when it was obvious she didn’t want to. So, for the first time in his life, he stopped fighting.

It pained him to no end. He could see in her eyes that she was exhausted. It hurt him so badly. Each time he said, “Whatever, Cupcake,” he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world for not taking her frustration away. But she wouldn’t let him in. She wouldn’t let him take away her frustration. It was like she wanted to argue with him. It was entirely unfair, but she was mad about his indifference. It didn’t make any sense for her to be mad when she had just as much blame to take for his sour mood.

“Why don’t you just go home?” She suggested. Bitterness coated every word.

“Yeah?” Harry looked up at her from his phone, his eyes narrowed. She could see his muscles tense like they were in the ring, and she was aiming for his head. “Jus’ leave?” He repeated.

“Obviously you don’t want to be here,” she muttered.

He slid back from the table, the chair scraping against the floor with a screech that made her teeth hurt. “No, cupcake,” he shook his head and made his way for the door. She hated itwhen he said the sweet name like that. She knew it wasn’t her nickname when he said it. It wasn’t filled with the love he liked. It was sarcastic. Mean. It hurt her more than an actual punch would have, she was sure. “You don’t want me here,” his voice was low. She closed her eyes, trying to keep as calm as possible. It was hard because she was anything but calm. But she said nothing. “You don’t want me in your life,” he snapped finally letting all the emotion out that had been building over the last week. “You keep things from me. You build up walls that I can’t break down. Every time I get to the top y’add another layer of bricks.”

She stayed silent.

“Go on, cupcake. Say m’wrong,” he challenged. “Say y’let me in.”

But both knew she couldn’t say it.

It was eerily quiet in the kitchen. The pinch of Harry’s brow made her sad. She wanted to smooth it out with a kiss. “Tell me to stay,” he whispered quietly.

But she couldn’t say that either.

“Yeah,” he sighed and turned. “S’what I thought.”

Maeve wondered if her best friend was going to have a heart attack a lot during her time at A Pinch of Sprinkles. The opening in town nearly sent her to the ER. She was running on fumes at the time. Christmas always made her anxious. Anytime they were chosen for a wedding also had Maeve worrying about her medical history. But in comparison, those were nothing. If Maeve had known what not talking to Harry would do to her, she would have told her that Christmas was a tropical vacation.

Harry stopped coming to see her.

“Did...” she swallowed, nervous to infuriate her best friend further but out of care for her, she had to know. “Is... Harry still...”

She glared at the cupcakes she was frosting, squeezing the icing bag a little too tightly. “I don’t know,” she grumbled. She hadn’t gotten a text from him nor seen him in a week after she told him to leave.

Maeve’s heart cracked. “Babe,” Maeve murmured softly. “He... he adores you... what happened?”

She shook her head unwilling to go over it again. The nights were filled with tear-soaked pillowcases, and she was exhausted from stress and crying. “I just can’t be in a relationship. It’s too much.”

Of course.

Maeve was sick of her best friend’s loneliness. “That is bullshit,” Maeve rolled her eyes. “Did you push him away?”

“Maeve, shut the fuck—”

“Oh, good luck pushing me away, babe. No,” she shook her head and grabbed the bag of frosting from her hands and threw it at the sink to gain her attention.

“I was wor—”

Maeve ignored her words and continued on with her own. “I might not be a boxer, but I can take a punch or two all the same. You pushed him away. Now you’re sulking. You’ve been punishing yourself for so long because you think you don’t deserve to be happy. Harry did nothing but love you and try to help you and you wouldn’t let him—”

“I am going to fire you,” she muttered bitterly. Harry never said he loved her anyway. How could he love her after all that? How could he love her if he didn’t even know the truth?

Maeve continued anyway, immune to her threat because she knew that wasn’t true at all. “You deserve to be happy, and Harry made you happy. That scares you,” she finished.

Angry tears filled her eyes and she ground her teeth together.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Maeve was her best friend and knew more about her and her family than anyone. “I don’t get happy things.”

“But you do. You have me, number one,” she snorted, fortunately. The tension eased just the slightest bit. “You have this bakery. And more importantly, you have a guy that is so crazy about you, he has been calling me every night to make sure you’re home safe and sound.” Her heart fluttered. She didn’t know that.

“Every time I love someone, they go away,” she whispered.

Maeve felt nothing but sympathy for her sweet friend. “You have to give Harry a chance. You have to tell him why you’re doing this. I have a good feeling about him,” Maeve reminded her. For the first time in a week, she felt her body untense.

“He calls you?” She asked.

“Every night.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “That’s nice,” she whispered.

Maeve nodded. “Really nice,” she agreed. “Plus, he’s like super hot. Did you even sleep with him yet?” She blushed at her words and reached for a new frosting bag out of the fridge. “You bitch! You didn’t tell me?!” Maeve screeched. She smacked her arm repeatedly. “Tell me everything! When did you do it? Where did you do it? Harry must have a massive dick, right? I feel like he’s—”

“Maeve,” she laughed. The first time in a week. It felt good to laugh. “I...”

“No, you have to spill. Something.”

Her cheeks were flaming. “I think I’m addicted to it,” she whispered.

“Thank. God.”

Harry refused to go back to the bakery for the rest of the week uninvited. His workout sessions were horrific. Louis yelled at him for missing his marks and he felt everything about his footwork was sloppy. The way she ignored him made him feel terrible. But naturally, he didn’t help either. He hadn’t texted her in over a week.

But it didn’t stop Harry from waking up to a call at eleven thirty at night.

“What?” He grumbled. He didn’t want to fight. He was tired of arguing with her and was tired of being frustrated. She would have to do the work if she was going to try and fix this when he needed sleep.

The sound of her shaky breath snapped his eyes open. “Can you come get me?” She croaked.

That did him in within seconds. The vulnerability in her voice. “Cupcake, s’matter?” He was awake instantly. It wasn’t sarcastic. It was her name. The one he used that made her feel adored. It was sweet and made her feel better almost as if he was already at the bakery. He quickly slid into trainers that he didn’t even untie; the back of the heel was smushed down and uncomfortable against his foot, but it didn’t matter. Her sniffling made him insane with worry. It was like the last few weeks hadn’t happened. “Kitten, talk to me,” he ordered. His heart racing and his fear taking over. He wasn’t sure he locked his door, and he was lucky he even remembered to grab his car keys before he descended the stairs to the parking lot.

“I’m alright,” she promised, tears filling most of her voice.

“Y’don’t sound alright.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

“Cupcake, I swear t’God,” he threw his car into drive before it was fully turned on.

“I just miss you. I’m sad and scared. Okay? I’m physically fine, but I’m a mess. I want you here,” her voice wobbled, and Harry felt like he was breaking. “Please,” she sniffled.

Harry felt crushing relief and he watched the needle on Clay’s speedometer lower from a felony charge to a healthy speeding ticket. “M’five minutes away, kitten. Stay put.”

“Okay,” her voice was quiet, sad but Harry didn’t mind.

“You’re okay?” He repeated. She nodded. He couldn’t see that though. “Cupcake?”

“I’m okay,” she promised, it was punctuated by a sniffle.

His heart felt so broken feeling the anguish in her voice. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered to the phone. “I wasn’t nice,” he mumbled.

“It’s hard,” she whispered. The remainder of his drive was silent. Just her sniffles and the hum of his tires on the road to accompany the small miles between them. Harry sprinted to her bakery door. She was there pacing the front and unlocked it as he approached. Harry dropped his phone right inside the entryway, the bell signaling his arrival, finally.

Within one second of crossing the threshold, she was in his arms. The door only clicked shut once he was around her. His face buried in her hair, his arms tightening around her like he was trying to keep her afloat in the middle of the ocean. “M’here,” he hummed. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart finally slowing after so much anxiety had plagued her over the last couple of weeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he assured her. “S’okay.”

“It’s so hard,” she repeated, herself from the phone call. Harry wished they were home. Even though it was late and private Harry wanted the comfort of her bed or his sofa to let her fall apart. The bakery was warm, but he wanted pillows for her head and blankets for her body to comfort her while she whispered secrets to him.

“I know, kitten. I know s’hard. But I... I adore you, Cupcake. Don’t y’know that? What do y’think all this is between us? I want t’meet your dad. He’s obviously a huge part of your life... and keeping secrets from me? S’not fair.”

“I know it’s not fair.”

“You know everything ‘bout me. S’like I don’t get t’know anything ‘bout you. Do y’think I’m suddenly not going to like you? I assure you that’s never going t’happen.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what I did.”

“What could you possibly have done? You’re made of sugar, Cupcake. You have to let me in. I told you everything. You know my family. You know my friends. You know why I bought Driven and why I have been fighting since I was ten years old. You have kept me out of everything. I don’t even know why you opened A Pinch of Sprinkles. I know you have a dad. You never talk about your mom. I don’t know about your childhood best friend or your favorite pet. There are these walls you keep up and I don’t know why, and I don’t know how to break them down.”

“You don’t eat cupcakes when you’re sad,” her jaw shakes as she pulls from him. The space between them feels worse than the last few weeks without her combined. It’s cold and lonely. More so than not speaking to her. More so than not sleeping beside her. His heart hurt instantly. But not as much as it hurt to watch her lower lip move almost independently of the rest of her face.

“Cupcake, what does that have t’do—”

But before he could finish his thought Harry could see it did have to do with what he just asked about. The way her eyes were shining with tears. It felt like someone clipped his vocal cords. All words escaped him, and he just stared at her as she continued. “You eat them at baby showers, weddings, and at birthday parties,” she listed. Harry stayed quiet. “You don’t eat them when your mom leaves when you’re six years old because it’s too much to be a mom,” her voice was so broken as she spoke. Harry felt her pain in the air. Like needles stabbing every inch of his exposed skin. It seemed impossible that someone wouldn’t want her. To willingly choose to leave her. Her mum no less. She was looking at her hands like they were going to give her the answer to a test she forgot to study for. “You don’t eat them at funerals or when you break your arm,” she continued. Harry wondered who had died and which arm she had broken and how. “You eat them when you get a good grade on your math test or on an anniversary.” Harry’s heart was breaking. He always wondered about the things she kept hidden in her personal life and she laid it out right there for him. In the one place that she probably loved more than anywhere else on earth. “You don’t eat them when you’re sick or sad. They’re for when you’re happy. You can’t be sad while eating sprinkles.”

It clicked effortlessly. Obviously. “A pinch of sprinkles,” he murmured softly. He crossed the space that separated them. Immediately, he cupped her cheeks in his hands, they felt cool compared to the warmth that emanated from her skin. Hot, frustrated tears started to spill over. He swiped at them with his thumbs below her eyes in tandem. He caught as many as he could but there was an overwhelming number of teardrops. It was impossible for him to keep them all from falling in rivers down her face.

She nodded. Her tears continued to spill over, rolling down her cheeks and sliding down his thumbs as he tried to stop them. “A pinch of sprinkles,” she repeated softly. She inhaled sharply. Turning against his hands holding her in place. A new wave of anguish crossed her face that Harry didn’t know could exist on someone’s face—especially not her perfect features. All the art museums he went to in university for his art history requirement made sense. The distortion of features on someone so beautiful was right before him. He understood. “You don’t eat cupcakes when your dad is in a car accident and becomes paralyzed from the neck down because you were too tired to drive even though you were the one that wanted to go to the drive-in and the only thing you can do is bring him to an entirely new town with a place to help him the way he deserves because it’s never going to be enough to thank him or repay him or—” the words were cut off by sobs that she could no longer control. Her heart was breaking right in front of him.

Harry knew how to fight. He knew how to stand with poise and grace that no one would expect a boxer to have. He knew how to throw punches that could knock a grown man out in one hit. The correct form to kick was ingrained in his mind from when he was ten years old.

Harry didn’t know how to begin to fight her sadness.

“Cupcake,” he whispered. She covered her mouth and the noise that came out of her body was so sad, so broken. Harry wondered how she could still be standing. Harry always thought he was pretty tough. That stubborn nature of his thought he was one of the toughest people in a room.

But he wasn’t. Not even close.

The pretty, sweet girl who was constantly covered in sugar and frosting—she was the strongest person he knew.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what she went through—how she still coped with it. It was a miracle she got in a car ever again. She was braver than he ever was or could be. “And he doesn’t hate me,” she whispered through her sobs. “My mom left him because of me. He is in a wheelchair and unable to live a normal life because of me.”

“Kitten,” he warned worried she would work herself up too much beyond his ability to help her. Harry was an idiot for making her feel this. He couldn’t leave well enough alone. If he only knew...

“Why doesn’t he just hate me?” She whimpered and Harry finally pulled her into his embrace. Her tears immediately soaked his shirt. She got snot all over him and Harry just kept her close to him he let her cry for longer than he ever wanted her to, but it felt good to hold her again. Regardless of the pain.

“How could anyone hate you, Cupcake?" he asked after a minute.

“I hate me,” she whispered. The question was rhetorical, but she responded anyway.

He kissed the top of her head. “If I had a kid like you... S’not anything I wouldn’t do for them. Your dad doesn’t regret that.”

“Of course he does,” she sniffled. “I couldn’t even take care of him.”

“It wasn’t your job, Cupcake.”

“But it was my faul—”

“Take me t’meet him,” he interrupted.

She blinked, confused. “What?”

“Take me to meet him. Y’go every week, yeah? Take me,” he asked. She felt so vulnerable. Her heart felt heavy.

“Meet him?” She whispered. Harry didn’t even comment that she repeated him again.

He nodded. “He saved your life for me, Cupcake. M’sure of it. S’least I could do t’meet him.”

Her heart felt something dangerously close to hope enveloping it. It was too good to be true. Her dream job, a cute apartment, a best friend, and the perfect guy. “You don’t hate me?”

He scoffed and buried his face in her neck. He missed her smell—vanilla and sugar (although he wasn’t sure that was truly her natural scent but merely from spending so much time in the kitchen). He missed her voice and the warmth he felt just holding her in his arms. “Christ, Kitten. Course not.”

“But I was so... awful. And I... I ruined his life. I'm cursed or something. I'll... I'll ruin your life too.”

"Sweetheart," he cooed. "Y'don't really believe that, do you?"

"I'm not a good luck charm, Harry."

"You are, Cupcake. You are the luckiest thing s'ever happened to me."

She looked at him miserably. "I've done nothing but made your life confusing and hell."

He pulled back a little so he could get a clearer look at her face. He smiled. The first genuine smile he felt in a week. “I can take a punch every now and again,” he promised. “Think Louis would say I could be knocked down a peg or two every once in a while,” he winked.

It wasn’t fixed. But she looked slightly less broken. She felt a little more whole. Harry’s smile did wonders for her.

The next day, Harry stood in the hall outside of the dining room. Other residents were in various activities, but her dad sat in his chair, slumped slightly, and he smiled at her entrance.

“Dad,” she said softly sitting across from him.

“Busy week you had it seems,” he smiled.

She blushed. “I know. I’m so sorry. I should have called. It was one thing after another—it’s no excuse I should have been here, and I was—”

“Honey,” he shook his head slightly, one of the few movements he retained from the crash. “You’re living a life. It’s okay.”

Her heart broke to see him in his chair. Unable to live the same kind of life.

“I... brought... something.”

“Something or someone?”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t see a cupcake box, so this must trouble,” he joked, smiling brightly.

“Harry is here. He wanted to meet you,” she explained.

“He wanted to? What about you?” He asked. She looked at him nervously. Her eyes said everything she didn’t say out loud. Her dad continued to smile. “Well, it’s about time, honey.”

She rolled her eyes and waved him over. Harry hurried, stepping right beside his wheelchair. Without hesitating, he grabbed her dad’s limp hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” he said shaking it firmly with both hands. When the handshake was through, Harry ever so gently placed his hand back on the arm rest of his chair.

Her dad smirked and winked at the sweet girl. “I’d offer you my seat, Harry, but I’m afraid I’m stuck in it.”

“Jesus Christ,” she covered her hand over her eyes.

Harry chuckled, taking the seat on the side of the table between them. “No problem, sir,” he assured him, taking the joke in stride. Adoration for them both squeezed around her heart. “Cupcake, do y’mind getting us some water?” She blinked in surprise. Normally, Harry wouldn’t let her lift a finger.

“Oh... um... sure,” she said and hurried off to find a nurse to help.

“Cupcake?” Her dad repeated.

“Yes, sir. She’s quite sweet like one,” he smiled gently. Her dad stared Harry down for a moment. Not maliciously. Just watching. Waiting. If they were in the ring, they would have been eyeing one another waiting for someone to make a move.

Her dad made the first one. “She said you wanted to meet me.”

Harry nodded. “I adore your daughter. With everything in me. M’going t’protect her every moment of every day. I wanted you t’hear that from me. I wanted you t’know that.”

“She can be a little feisty sometimes,” he warned, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

“M’aware,” he didn’t want to tell him about their stalemate over the last few weeks. That didn’t matter anymore and it wouldn't paint either of them in a good light.

“She said you have a big match coming up.”

He nodded. “Yes, sir. Biggest one of m’career.”

“Think you’ll win?” He asked.

Harry was confident. But he didn’t like to let his confidence overinflate his chances or make himself sound presumptuous. Anything could happen. But he was going to try his hardest and best. That would be good enough for him. “I believe so. I’ve worked hard for this. I want it more than most anything,” he promised.

“Most?” Just like his daughter, he caught the key word.

“Most,” he repeated. There was a significant pause as Harry considered his next thoughts. The words he didn’t want to explain but what he wanted her dad to know anyway. “Did she tell you about Jack?” Harry asked quietly.

The name didn’t ring a bell. He shook his head. “No. She doesn’t always tell me everything.”

Harry smiled sadly. “At least she’s consistent,” he murmured. “My manager Louis and I teach self-defense classes... she joined one several months ago,” he let another pause tell her dad the words he didn’t want to say. The story he probably shouldn’t be telling him in the first place. “M’confident she could protect herself. But m’hoping she won’t ever have to. M’going t’keep her safe,” he assured him. “I promise.”

He could only imagine the wave of emotions that took over his brain. Harry obviously wasn’t a father, but he didn’t need to be one to know he would murder someone for his daughter. Paralysis or not. “And you?” He asked quietly. Digesting the bit of information Harry alluded to.

“Me?” Harry repeated.

“Are you going to hurt her?”

“Never,” he assured him. “I’d... I’d take a bullet for her,” he promised.

“Speaking from experience, that might hurt her more than just letting her take the bullet,” he chuckled and winked. Harry snorted but nodded.

“Understood.”

She returned with three glasses of water and an extra long straw for her father. “You guys sharing war stories about me?”

“I was jus’ ‘bout t’tell him how you’re trying t’fatten me up with raspberry lemon filling,” Harry stood and held her chair out for her to sit.

“You are more than capable of saying no to cupcakes, Harry.”

“I beg to differ, honey. It’s a sin to say no to them,” her dad smiled. “A sin to say no to you,” he winked again.

Their reunion in Harry’s home was carnal to say the least. Harry missed being inside her. He wanted to fall asleep with her wrapped around his dick. Harry had spent many years of his teens taking care of his own sexual needs and yet somehow the weeks apart from her were worse than all those years combined.

Perhaps it was the noises she made. Begging Harry for a release. Her body craved his. It felt like a part of her had been missing for the duration of their silly stalemate. It may have only been a few weeks, but it was a few weeks without orgasms made possible by Harry’s mouth, fingers, and dick.

“I wanna stay inside you the rest of m’life,” he moaned into her ear in the middle of the night. They would both be tired in the morning. Louis would probably hate her (even though Harry assured her that was impossible) but it was worth it.

They started going over her self-defense moves again in between dinner and TV shows. Harry was encouraging. Making sure she followed the right move and not her instinct. Correcting her form and making sure she knew he would always be there for her. She told him more secrets that made Harry feel so whole.

She watched him train. Harry walked her to her car after falling asleep on the table in the bakery kitchen. They hadn’t spent a night apart since Harry met her dad. They fell asleep watching a movie or show nearly every night. Harry would simply lift her in his arms and carry her to the bedroom. She would coax him out of his slumber and snuggle up to him as they made it to a more comfortable position in bed.

That was the case one week prior to Harry’s big fight.

He had fallen asleep in her lap (after he had lazily brought her to orgasm with nothing more than stroking his finger messily around her clit. Simply because he could and thought her sleep shorts looked lonely without his hand inside them). Now he had an arm wrapped around her waist, face nuzzled against her T-shirt. “I love you, Cupcake,” he mumbled sleepily. She ignored it. Thought that maybe he was asleep because surely someone so big and strong—someone so scary yet boyish—couldn’t love her after all she put him through. No matter how good her mouth was on his dick. “Hear me, kitten?” He asked rolling to look up at her.

She smiled, blushing. “I heard you, thought you were sleeping.”

“Well, I love you in m’sleep, too,” he turned again, rubbing his nose against her shirt. She giggled, rubbing her fingers through his hair and massaging scalp. She was so enamored and so surprised she felt speechless. “So you’re supposed t’say it back,” he turned and looked up at her. “Unless...y’don’t feel the same way...or I said it too soon or something and it’s—”

“Oh no way,” she assured him. “I love you very much,” she laughed and brought her face down to his and kissed him.

The morning of his fight, they woke up early. Harry headed into the shower, and she followed right behind him. With a sleepy smile he enjoyed the feel of her mouth on him as he always did, gripping her hair in his hands while he thought about how a $100,000 would change his life and allow him to spoil her.

But after a healthy breakfast (and another blowjob from beneath the table while he ate because she simply thought he deserved a relaxed morning) there was no use denying it.

Harry was grumpy.

By the time they got to Driven, he snapped at her a few times (more than a few times) and she took it like a champ. In fact, she was planning on ignoring it entirely. It wasn’t his fault. Stress was natural on a day like today. His warmup wasn’t supposed to be heavy the day of a massive fight like this even though he tested Louis’ patience to no end.

“Again,” he snarled at Louis. Louis looked at her for support.

“Baby, you need—”

“I said, again. I know what m’doing,” he growled ignoring her.

Louis let him have one more round of practice. But it was Louis’ comments on his attitude that he found her around lunch time in his office setting up a light lunch from one of his favorite restaurants nearby. Tail between his legs. “M’sorry I snapped, kitten. S’jus’ the nerves.”

She smiled. “I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“S’not okay, though.”

She shook her head grinning at him. “I’ll yet at you later when you eat the frosting off my cupcakes.”

He nodded. “M’gonna hold you to that,” he promised.

“I know it’s silly to say. But don’t be nervous. You’re going to win, I can feel it,” she assured him and draped herself in his lap while he ate his carrot sticks.

“Course. M’good luck charm will be there,” he brushed his finger on her cheek.

“You know, I hate when you get hit. It's been my least favorite part of this whole experience.”

He shrugged. “So, I won’t get hit,” he smiled knowingly.

She laughed. “I don’t think I’m much of a good luck charm when you were already undefeated when I met you,” she reminded him.

He felt everything soften in him. The tenseness, the anger, and the frustration all disappeared. “Oh, kitten,” he shook his head. “You have been m’good luck charm for so much more than boxing matches.”

Louis was ready to explode with anger. Part of her wondered if he had ever followed through on his threats of getting in the ring to throw punches at Harry. She thought it might be cathartic for him. Before she can blink, the introductions are over. The sound of the bell chimes through the arena room.

Ding

Round one was over and she was holding her breath so she seriously considered the idea that she had blacked out and missed it. But Niall had murmured to her that he didn’t get hit once and she felt so proud, so excited. The kind of money Harry was going to win would do incredible things for his life. Maybe in addition to holding her breath, she had squeezed her eyes shut and turned to Niall.

His opponent was big, strong. He wasn't facing Harry because he wasn't good. It terrified to think the kind of damage an opponent like him could do to him.

“Looks like he forgot extra towels,” Niall murmured to her bringing her back to reality. She could see the irritation in Louis’ eyes and Harry holding his hands up with the gloves. How did y’expect me t’grab them? She could imagine him grumbling back only further irritating Harry. There was enough for the time being but she knew they would go through a stack of them in no time at all.

“I’ll get them,” she offered standing waving at him in some silent sign language neither discussed but Louis knew what it meant. He looked the slightest bit more relaxed by her standing. Part of her thought for the first time in their relationship he didn’t hate her. Even though Harry assured her repeatedly that he didn't. (He was utterly kind to her throughout the self-defense classes and when Harry reminded her of such, she alluded to the fact that she paid for that kindness.)

“Cupcake, you’re the best,” Niall squeezed the back of her arm as he stayed put. “Want me to come with you?” He asked.

“No, I got it,” she smiled. “I’m going to use the bathroom and hit the concession stand too. So, if I’m not back at the end of the next round I didn’t fall in the laundry basket,” she promised. Niall chuckled and waved her off.

After going to the bathroom and making her way back to the locker room, flashing her badge around her neck, she found the extra towels laid out. The noise was deafening—even from inside the locker room. She grabbed an armful's worth and made her way toward the entrance to the arena.

When she turned around, the last person she ever thought she’d see was waiting just inside the door. The volume behind him hadn’t changed. But she swore in that moment, the crowd, the bell, the thudding of her heart, everything got louder.

She knew he was trying to intimidate her just by standing there. There wasn’t a single person around. Everyone was in that arena. Her legs felt like lead, but she walked forward anyway. The towels in her arms provided extra space between them as she started to walk right past him. “Excuse me,” she muttered.

He’s just trying to intimidate me. She repeated to herself.

“Round two is about to begin!” She heard announced from behind the door followed by a delighted cheer.

It was nothing.

Jack was just trying to scare her. She hadn't done anything wrong.

All she needed to do was walk by him confidently. Then she would watch Harry win life-changing money. She was home free. Leaning into the door, the metal bar squeaking as it released the hold on the frame to let her through to the main room.

But at the last second, the towels fell from her arm in a heap as he grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the door. “I don’t think so.”

Round two was starting.

Ding.

taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

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@fangirl7060

ding: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @vikiii07

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

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pixiesndberries · 15 hours

Text

LABYRINTH

— "social media lowkey" F2 driver was seen together with a famous F1 driver? are they together? PART 01

⑅ pairings : Lando Norris & Fem!F2Driver Reader.

— faceclaim : no specific face claim for the reader, joão felix, and magui corceiro (PART 02 !).

⑅ warnings : reader is kind of an introvert?

⑅ note : NONE OF THESE ARE REAL! tweets do not exist in real life and all fictional, photos are not mine and i am not claiming it as mine. None of these happened in real life, like I said this is all fictional ᯓ★ it's been long pookies, i hope you enjoy this one!

MEETING LANDO NORRIS, what could go wrong right? well, that's what she thought at least — she never met this man in her life before, though she is familiar because obviously he's one of the famous F1 drivers and to be honest she's been waiting for this since she's a reserve driver for Mclaren. She never knew she would feel this way, what way? she never have felt this pleasant in her life this quick before — pleasant? comfy? warm? whatever you call it.

despite the cold weather talking to him was thawing the cold feeling inside her, this quick? yes.

"Lando Norris, just Lando." he laughs with his eyes squinting and those wrinkles building up under his eyes, for a moment she doesn't know what to do because she's really bad at socializing despite getting surrounded by many people almost everyday.

"y/n l/n, it's very nice to meet you." she says with a nod and a small grin, the man sticks out his hand offering a hand shake which she quickly accepted — his warm hands having contact with hers, a cold one.

why am i so nervous? she gulps.

"well, how are we doing y/n?" he chuckles still having that such smile plastered on his face which made her get in with the vibe, her fave moving itself to give him her nicest smile as she spoke "doing just fine, never expected to meet you." she laughs.

"that's good."

"what about you?"

usually conversation ends with that's good whenever someone asks her, but suddenly her mouth uttered those words — in the corner of her eyes she can see suzie throwing a hold up look on both of them yet with a smile.

even me, i would throw that reaction.

and well, after those words she spoke their conversation have gotten far almost telling everything about herself and how did she managed to enter this situation where she drives for PREMA and the only woman in F2 as of now — how did how are we doing went to,

"that's interesting, yeah?"

"yes, well actually —"

"he followed me on Instagram."

"who?" says by her friend who threw her a confused look thinking who is this girl talking about, she never really cared about her social media after her and that you know who broke up.

"lando, lando norris."

her friend quickly stood up from her seat, her phone slipping from her hands as she stood up — she quickly jump next to y/n checking her phone which made her have this icky reaction.

"girl seriously? have you seen what your fans says on twitter."

"..no?"

"fuck, let me see." her friends says as she grabbed her phone quickly than a snatcher which made her sigh.

as she was looking through her phone, y/n sat there thinking still about their interaction — she never told everyone what she felt that time except for her friend, that's why she reacted like this. y/n never really took her feelings seriously, maybe she's just infatuated by his looks and kindness and nothing else serious.

I guess, hopefully?

"girl you like him right? you should post shit omg."

"no? what, i never said i like him?"

"you know, i feel something when i met lando." her friend mocked her with the same stern yet genuine tone she had whenever she's talking, "tell me you didn't like him."

"that doesn't mean it's romantic?"

"it is, soon."

y/n scratches her hair as her response, it's nothing and it's weird to fall in love with someone that quick.

not long enough, expect the expected they started to hang out for PR purposes only but who thought both of them could enjoy it — it's not like she's an antisocial or something but she never really had close friends in F2 or in the past, unless from her non-celebrity friends who grew up with her.

even behind cameras they hangout a lot, they sometimes would play video games together or basically just do recreational activities together outdoor and indoor — they got close pretty quickly and it's only been three months since they met.

having Lando with her feels nice especially when they just talk, just them alone — i mean no meaning behind it but the intimacy, it feels comfortable like no judgement, no negative shit, and it's literally just them talking about the things they love and for her communication is something she lacked and this make everything feels better.

"can i see?" lando chuckles as he peaks through her phone leaning a little more on her side so he can see the pictures of her cats.

"here." she smiles proudly showing the photos of her cats, there are three of them.

"oh they need to be here, i need to see them they look adorable as hell." lando laughs pointing at the chubby baby cats in her phone.

"should i?"

"if you wouldn't mind."

"sure, why not."

UH OH, IM FALLING IN LOVE.

〇 landonorris 53s ago.

viewed by carlossainz55 and 43, 988 others.

six months, it's been six freaking months of them being friends.

she understand, why she's feeling like this.

feeling like what?

she doesn't know either but whenever he's around that smile on her face appears like he's rainbow showing up in the darkest clouds of her life after storms — she felt more inspired to be better not only as a person but to be better in the things she does.

"why are you not posting much in your account? sorry if the question was personal just curious." lando sags but then feeling embarrassed after his question because it might a little personal for you, who knows.

for a moment she thought about what to say thinking if she would pull the savory answer or the real answer — him and lando might be friends but she's not so sure yet, wether to tell him.

he might judge me

why would he?

uh i don't know.

he's gone through break-up as well why would he not understand?

she's basically debating with herself.

"i just don't want to be active in social media after my uh" for a moment she was breathing heavily as she plays with her fingers.

"it's okay you don't have to."

"after me and damièn broke up i don't feel really like it and it's okay."

it's true after what damièn have done to their relationship she doesn't want to do anything else but to drive.

"im sorry to hear that." he says as he puts his hands on her shoulder, caressing it with his thumb showing a sympathy.

"it's alright and i already moved on." she says with a nod and a smile making lando smile as well.

"i think you should post more, your fans are going crazy in twitter." he laughs "no pressure."

"really? never been on twitter a lot so."

〇 y/n.instagram

♫ Desperado — Rihanna

y/n.instragam | 🏎️

liked by kimi.antonelli, landonorris and 698,332 others.

mclaren 🫣

liked by creator.

landonorris kudos to the person who did the camera work 🫡

↳ y/n.instagram credits to you 😒

↳ flowersandlilysfor.y/n the voices inside my head is telling me that they're something.

↳ landonowinssmh23 ayo

zak.osullivan wowwwww

liked by creator.

racerbia babe wake up, y/n posted ☝️

↳ y/n.instagram 🫂

lilymhe i miss you! 🥹

↳ y/n.instagram i miss u too!

lewishamilton 🙌🏾

liked by the creator.

embutidoseller22 SHE'S BACK OMG

oscar_pastry0 TELL A FRIEND OF A FRIEND THAT SHE'S BACKKKKKK

luis.png DID SHE REMEMBER HER PASSWORD NOW

user263726 lmao the f2 boys liking

whatdaheel_55 stay away from lando

user136739 instead of posting can you actually practice more lol?

landooo.borris SHE POSTED GUYS THE QUEEN IS BACK

damiii_fan32 did she already moved on?

user463659 LANDO COMMENTED OMG

y/nflowers.99 lando pulled her? LUCKY MAN

↳ whatdaheel_55 no they're not together

juststeve7 absolutely gorgeous 🤤

iloebpearljam WE NEED MORE YOU AND LANDO PLS 🙏

load more comments...

OH NO, IM FALLING IN LOVE.

9 months and still going, Lando is someone that she never expected to come in her life that she would be needing — the amount of comfort he provides her was everything she could ask for, their friendship was really something for both of their lives.

"hey, thank you for coming." he says wiping his lips using the soft tissue that was placed in the table, "i know you're pretty busy." he added as he threw the used tissue away.

"it's alright, the pasta made everything worth it." she chuckles sipping on the cold glass of water lando gave her.

"i know im no chef but thank you." he laughs

"what? you literally cook the best." she insists

he went silent for a moment giving her the glare like at this moment she was the only one who matters — she gulps then places the water back into the table, the sound making lando snapped back.

"thank you again, you don't know how much im so thankful for you." he says with that soft endearing tone.

why is he saying this? right now that- whatever.

it's making her heart flutter and she doesn't even know what to say, the way he looks at her and talks to her — she doesn't know what to feel at that moment, it's like her whole body was raising and she couldn't bring herself to speak.

".. you know i always got you right?" she smiles

"yeah." he nodded "and i could say the same thing." he smiles.

his smile, that damn smile — ever since from the start that what absolutely caught her attention, the way he smile was everything. It's making her feel something, special? she's fully aware that they're friends but something inside her that she couldn't describe keeps knocking out of her heart.

do i love him?

of course you do, you're friends.

no i mean like, i love him like he's the only that matters.

"anyway, you ready for some ice cream?"

"yeah, of course, ive been waiting for you to ask that."

OH, IM FALLING IN LOVE ..

ᯓ★ pixiesndberries 2024 ! i don't allow my work to be share in any platforms without my permission — REBLOGS, LIKES, AND FOLLOW WOULD BE APPRECIATED !

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bandgie · 19 hours

Note

I legit had this thought last night-

Who in skz would most likely fold/find it hella attractive when seeing their partner smile/enjoying themselves during sex?

most

chan - he's a simple guy. if you're having a good time, he's having a good time. he needs to see that you're enjoying yourself, makes everything 100x better

changbin - he's such a giving lover, wtf is the point of making love if you're not into it? if you're not having a good time, tell him so he can do everything in his power to see that beautiful smile

felix - he would do anything in his power to see those pearly whites. you just look so good smiling in general, and if you're so fucked that all you can do is grin he's fucking you harder

seungmin - he's really focused on you during sex, so seeing that smile on your face makes him really prideful. esp if you're looking at him right in the eyes, he smiles with you. super cute moment

minho - it kind of throws him for a loop to see you a smile. like 'whats wrong?' but he quickly puts it together that you're just feeling really good and he teases you about it

hyunjin - he loves seeing you smile but I think he prefers watching your face twist in pleasure. mouth open and eyebrows crossed. smiling is always cute and adorable to him but he doesn't really smile during sex himself. afterwards yes

jeongin - jeongin gives good dick and it's so easy to cream on cock within the first few thrusts. he likes to hear you moan and mewl but smiling is just? cool? like low-key unsettling for him but he just has to get used to the fact that he just fucks you too good that you can't help it

han - he's trying so hard to not cum that he doesn't even notice. he's screwing his eyes shut and biting his lips with his hips shaking just trying to keep his orgasm at bay while your smiling up at him. it's more-so just so cute watching him try so hard rather than him fucking you good tbh.

least

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #poly!skz

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satforsatoru · 17 hours

Text

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞

➪ 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

brief mention of blood + injury

You awoke quickly, eyes snapping open and jumping to sit up, before you could even understand what was going on. You listened, blinking tiredly, trying to discern what had interrupted your sleep.

A persistent knocking echoed through the quietness of your apartment and your eyes narrowed. There was no reason for anyone to be at your door at 2am, but still you hardly hesitated before grabbing your robe and stepping into your slippers.

Narrowed eyes looked through your peephole, but you saw no one. Within a moment your cursed technique was activated and you opened your door.

You hardly had time to react before a weight was falling into you, causing you to stumble back. Violence was your first reaction, but a tuft of white hair disarmed you immediately.

“…yn?”

Satoru lay in your arms, eyes scrunched close and blood dripping from his nose. A different sort of panic ran through you and you quickly hauled him into your home.

“Satoru? Shit, are you- what’s going on?” You demanded, gently laying him down on your couch. Despite asking, you had a pretty good idea of what he was experiencing.

His skin boasted a sickly pallor and his face was scrunched in obvious pain, an expression that didn’t fit him at all. Besides his bloody nose (that didn’t look broken) he had no other injuries. External injuries, at least.

“Didn’t know where else t’ go,” he murmured weakly. You sucked in a breath of air as you tried desperately to get him on the couch without hurting him more.

“This is exactly where you should go, baby,” You refuted, laying the sorcerer on the couch, before moving him so he could lay his head on your lap.

He just hummed brokenly as your hands rested in his hair. Your hands glowed blue as you began to gauge and heal the damage to Satoru’s brain.

“Just relax, love. It’ll all be over soon, okay?” You whispered, trying to comfort your distraught lover. True to your words, your reversed technique worked quickly and you could feel his brain repairing itself.

Soon enough, his trembling ceased and his breathing evened out. Satoru blew out a deep breath and his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours.

“Almost done, baby. I have some sweets in the freezer you can have and then how about getting some rest?” You suggested, feeling like you could breathe again. It never got easier seeing him like this, and you were sure it never would.

Satoru always seemed above mortal problems, a god amongst men, but right now, he looked so fragile. Tears brimmed his eyes, drying blood coated the bottom half of his face, and he could hardly talk.

You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to regain control of your emotions. Satoru was fine now. He had come to you, and you had healed him, the same way you would whenever he needed you.

“Stay here, love, I’m going to get you cleaned up, yeah?” You carefully replaced your lap with a pillow before heading to your kitchen first. Digging in the freezer, you found a pack of kikifuku mochi, and you put two on a small plate.

You brought it back to him with a cup of water and you couldn’t miss the shake in his hands as he accepted it, but for his sake, you said nothing and instead laid a gentle kiss on his forehead.

When you came back with a damp towel, the mochi was already gone, unsurprisingly. The normalcy of it made you smile. With a feather light touch, you wiped the blood from his face and you felt him lean into the contact.

“Feeling better?” You asked, setting the towel to the side. Satoru let his eyes close as you held his face in your hands and hummed. “Thank you, for everything,” He whispered hoarsely.

You just smiled fondly before helping him to stand. As you led him to your bedroom, you felt his hand squeeze yours, a gesture of affection that you returned.

The second his head hit the pillow, you could tell how tired he was, not that you didn’t expect as much. Still fighting sleep, Satoru laid a kiss on your palm whispered a declaration of love into your skin.

Less than an hour earlier, you were overwhelmed with worry for his condition, but now all you felt was an overwhelming love. If Satoru needed peace, you would make sure he could find it in your embrace, no matter what.

requests are open + reblogs are appreciated

#💎diamond encrusted #jujutsu kaisen #we are SO BACK #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo hurt/comfort #gojo fluff #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #jujutsu satoru

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anantaru · 2 hours

Text

WORKING OVERTIME — WRIOTHESLEY

synopsis. fucking your boss is not to be taken serious, correct?

cw. boss! wriothesley x employee! reader, slight mention of power imbalance, office sex, fem! reader

this is no serious matter. snap out of it.

this is sex, nothing more and nothing less. you can view it as releasing stored steam with your, well, boss.

wriothesley wasn't always the kindest boss to you, for whatever reason you might add. he could be severely strict and serious and couldn't stop pointing out mistakes, especially yours.

come a little closer now because there's a rumor going around— but some believe he does it on purpose to you, only when it's you and it doesn't matter how good you finish your tasks, he's very much aware of the fact that it gets you going.

it riles you up and makes you wet whenever he's rough with you.

alas, no matter his searing kisses that brand into your skin and practically scream you're mine, the candid words of endearment that drop from his lips like sticky honey on ones hands, the heavy look in his eyes whenever he exhales from his mouth upon pushing inside, admiring your face and calling you beautiful in his mind, this moment means nothing at all.

it's not real. it cannot happen.

it's sex, that's what it was, good fucking sex.

once, twice, thrice, endless— each thrust hits your nerves and spill everywhere, your bare breasts long since shown to him as his balls repeatedly smack against your ass. he's vicious— a duke in charge of everything and he breathes so heavenly when you squeeze around his shaft and let him feel for a moment, let him forget his duties just for once.

one warm palm twists around your breast and tugs on your nipple hard— call it a silent reminder, an aggressive prompting of why the duke was your boss and that you're under him.

in every way imaginable.

another reason as to why he didn't find it necessary to discard of his clothes other than hastily tugging his pants down to his knees, fully dressed while you're all naked for him to indulge in.

this is why he's in control and you aren't. remember your place.

a delicious roll of hips bounces your breasts up and down as your legs tighten around his waist, his leaky tip nudging deep against your sweetest spot with sweat making itself visible at his chiseled chest as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts until you cry out in heavenly screams, pathetic cries and fuck, how good it felt to be practically tossed back and forth against a desk, impaled by a thick cock like his.

no matter which words you'd attempt to use to describe your filthy sounds, be it wailing or screaming and even whining out his name, wriothesley makes it sure to add a hidden promise between every single thrust that he'll make you cum even better than last time, and he's allowed to cum inside, correct?

hey, but again, this is nothing. nothing at all.

a galvanizing memory, call it a photograph or a printed picture prettily put in a golden frame, a delicious scene that the duke will take and put inside the most important parts in his brain, so he'll never forget and can always use such memories to make himself feel good whenever you aren't there.

until he never searches for those fantasies again, until he's fucked you out of his system and the creaks of the wooden desk screeching against the cold floor would cease to exist.

wriothesley leans against your body shaking on top of the cold desk, a distant roughness towering on top of his voice as you cry out one more wail of his name, the sticky feeling of his chest pressing against you being the least of your worries as he attempts to kiss you when you messily lick across his jaw instead, bypassing the kiss wriothesley wanted, no, needed to give you.

no kisses allowed, that was the deal, right? yet he still tries it. every damn time.

this is nothing. it's a helping hand for when either of you was too frustrated to concentrate on work, a willing hand and a willing cock, a hidden favour from employer to employee.

it's nothing with an explanation required, nothing that needs a specific name nor was it important enough to be called anything at all, because while you sure knew what it was, he knows what it's not.

you see, wriothesley wants more, he wants this. he wants you.

not only your addicting cunt sucking him in but he wants you to kiss him just kiss me already damn just do it please.

just once.

he drags his teeth against his bottom lip in agony and jerks his hips further into your squishy cunt, grunting at the throbs and shocks of arousal tensing from your walls and branding into his aching shaft.

but don't forget wriothesley was in control.

wait, was he? he won't risk it. he knows he can't. you're his employee.

because he knows it's not serious. he knows he's not that weak to fall for someone.

he cannot start having a crush on you, in fact, it was only possible to start from the beginning and not when you're already heads over heels for somebody— at last, breaching the line of a healthy work relationship between boss and employee.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles

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mandarinmoons · 1 day

Text

Thanks for the idea @spencestiel-michelle x

An uncomfortable silence filled the air as you continued to stack your items into moving boxes. You didn’t think this day would come and you were hoping that it wouldn’t lead to this, but one thing leads to another and here you were, packing your belongings to move to a new unit.

Ever since joining The FBI you wanted to work in organized crime, unfortunately you didn’t get a spot in the area you wanted to work in but were offered a position in The BAU. Hesitantly you accepted it, not the place you wanted to be in, but alas it was something. What you didn’t expect was to meet someone like him though.

On your first day at the bureau you walked out of Hotch’s office with a stack of files in your hands, trying to walk back to your desk without tumbling down on the floor in the process. Nearly halfway there you heard someone run up to you and take half of the files into their hands. As your line of sight became clear your eyes met with the person who came to help you and you felt your breath get caught in your throat.

The warmest set of brown eyes met yours, his lips turned up in a smile and you felt yourself copying him.

“Let me help you.”

You nodded and walked to your desk with the stranger tagging along, you were cursing yourself in your head for not being able to get one word out.

As the days passed and you finally mustered up the courage to speak to the helpful, and quite gorgeous man, you properly introduced yourself to him and you felt your stomach swarm with butterflies as he smiled your way and introduced himself as Spencer.

Years pass and the two of you are thick as thieves, having coffee together during breaks and the fact that your desks are right next to each other doesn’t help. Spencer was known to be a bit of a chatterbox and you were never one to shut him down whenever he had an urge to talk about something. It always ended up getting cut short by Hotch and you were a bit sad when it happened, even if you didn’t always understand what Spencer was talking about you still liked to listen to him.

And now here you were, memories of the past years replaying in your head as you and Spencer packed away your belongings. You two had never been this quiet before, it still felt unreal and Spencer was hoping that you’d tell him that this was all a cruel joke any second now, but it wasn’t. You finally got your spot in organized crime and you were leaving The BAU.

You kept sneaking glances at him every now and then, trying your best to remember all the details of the face that you loved so much because you didn’t know when the next time would come that you’d be able to see him.

He had worn his glasses for the past few days and in your head you wondered if he was wearing them as a way to trick you into staying because you had told him you loved it when he wore them, but unbenounced to you Spencer had been crying ever since he found out about your transfer and wasn’t able to wear his contacts because of that.

With everything neatly packed, you and Spencer looked at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to say something. The words you wanted to say were gnawing at you, but you weren’t able to say them.

What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he truly only sees you as a friend and you’d end up making the departure even more difficult?

You were brought out of your thoughts by the sound of Spencer clearing his throat and you shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“So this is the last of it.”

“Do you want me to help you take it to your car?”

“Oh no thanks, I’ll manage.”

“At least let me help you take it to the elevator.”

You nodded and your fingers brushed as you took a hold of the same box, you pulled your hands back so as to not cause any further electricity flow through you. Whenever yours and Spencer’s hands brushed together it always felt comforting, but now it just made you want to cry as it was a sensation you no longer had the privilege of feeling.

The walk to the elevator felt like an eternity. You kept your eyes away from Spencer because you knew you would break if you saw his gaze. You wanted to stay, or rather you wanted him to stay as a regular part of your life, but life is unfair at times and choices have to be made. It was selfish of you to think that he would come and tag along with you in another division and you knew he would laugh in your face if you were to ask him to, but a small part of you was hoping for it to happen.

The elevator doors opened and you looked back at Spencer one last time, one more glance at those eyes you loved so much, making sure you’d be able to see them every time you closed yours.

“Goodbye Spencer.”

You walked in the elevator, taking in Spencer’s body language. He seemed tense, his jaw tense and his hands stuffed deep within his pockets, he was hurting as much as you were, if not more.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

The doors shut and Spencer felt the tears pool in his eyes, why had he not said the words he was thinking of? Because he feared the same things as you, what if he ruined the departure and things would be awkward between you two. Now you both would never know how things could be.

What were those words you both thought about? I love you.

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bekaroth-reads · 3 days

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Baldur’s Gate’s 3 Characters x Reader/Tav Misunderstanding

[This is basically the situation of, “As my partner-“ “Wait, we’re partners?!” Might add more characters later. Proof read but quickly. Sorry if there are mistakes]

Astarion- The two of you were planning out a way to get into a tomb that had some sort of artifact that Astarion insisted was important. “Important,” was, in fact, the only thing that he was using to describe it. This was something that was causing the most problems as you didn’t want to go through the danger of it all for something that might have been nothing more than entertainment for him. When you tried to ask him to give you more details, he snidely scolded, “Listen, as your partner-“

“I’m your partner?!” You interrupt before he could say more.

Immediately, he covered his mouth and his cheeks with his hand, embarrassment flooding in after what he had just said as he turned away. While he could usually recover from almost anything, this struck the line of being too intimate for him to handle. In fact, you were both so flustered and embarrassed from the whole thing that you had to push the planning of everything for the excursion at least a week out. It’s hard to plan adventures when you can’t even look the other person in the eye.

Gale- He thought that you were overworking yourself; and, if Gale Dekarios of all people thought someone was overworking, then it was pretty bad. Then again, you were important to him, so he was also inclined to mother-hen over everything you did. When he thought the time was right, he pulled you aside to gently scold, “I know this is very important. But, as your partner, I must insist-“

“We’re partners?!” You exclaim.

He felt awful as he sees this as him trying to force you into a relationship that you might not have wanted. And, given his history with Mystra, it makes him feel like he has taken on her role, and it makes him nauseous. You will need to take some time to get him to understand it was simply a misunderstanding and that you do want to have a relationship with him.

Raphael- He insisted on taking you to find, “better,” clothing. When you got over the initial insult of the indication that your current choice in clothes was bad, you questioned why he was so adamant on doing so.

“Because, I am a public figure. I cannot have my partner-“ He started to explain before you interrupted,

“I’m your partner?!”

This seemed to entertained him to no end. “Why of course, Little Mouse. Hurry along now.” He hummed as he gave you a tap on the nose before ushering your stunned self out the door.

Haarlep- The two of you finally had an evening to yourselves. They were sitting on the end of your bed in a soft nightshirt, reading a book. It wasn’t even that they were expressly interested in the book, but between all of the scheming with Raphael and succubus work, they couldn’t remember the last time that they had the chance to do something so simple as reading. They gave a contented sigh as they lied back, their horns bumping against your legs where you were sitting farther up on the bed. Without much thought, they sighed, “I am so glad that you are mine.”

“Wait! Are we… partners? Actual partners?” You question in surprise.

They put down their book and turned themselves to lie on their stomach so that they could look at you with gleaming eyes, your reaction seemingly tickling them.

“Well, of course! I’m never this relaxed with anyone but you.” They sat up a bit and motioned to what they had on. “I mean- just look at me! I even put clothes on for you! That’s not something that happens everyday, my sweet.”

Gortash- To say things were tense would be an understatement. Enver Gortash and you had tried to kill each other about a month ago, and you were both nearly successful. It had taken you these past three weeks to heal, and the whole time the both of you were sure the other was going to try to sweep in at any moment and finish the job. Or, you were, and it didn’t take too much imagination to see his situation as the same. You were both in a similar state when your respective parties had broken up your fight.

Now you found out that you would have to work with him publicly for a time. It wasn’t something that you were looking forward to, but it was necessary to get answers for certain things and create opportunities for your team. You were in the hall that this party was being held at; it was nothing fancy, no dancing, no meal- just a simple gathering for some of the upper class to speak with each other and perhaps have a few drinks. You were beyond surprised when Gortash connected eyes with you and instead of an angry or begrudging response, he greeted you with one of the brightest smiles you had ever seen on the man.

“There they are now! The person of the hour!” He walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. There were some compliments and coos of how darling you both looked together, and how you must have been a great match. Soon after the group walked away to give you two a few moments of privacy.

“You said that we were a couple?” You whisper-yelled at him.

“Of course. Because we are.” He whispered back as he leaned closer to purr into your ear, “We did almost kill each other after all.” Gortash gave you a peck on the cheek before moving you both to mingle with the other little groups of people around the room.

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btsmosphere · 3 days

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 6: Burn Out

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: When things get ahead of you, your powers aren’t the only things to spill over; some truth is ready to breach the surface.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, minor injuries, self-doubt, over-training, loss of control and... awkwardness

a/n: this could have been two chapters, and I did think about it, but fuck it, you guys deserve a nice hefty update! this just means there's a fair bit of development ahead...

“At least Namjoon didn’t blow out any of the lightbulbs. Those are a nightmare to replace.”

Jimin smiled weakly when you didn’t respond to his joke. His worried gaze travelled to V, who stood behind you. He shrugged.

With a sigh, Jimin sat back. You hadn’t looked him in the eye as he checked your wounds, too caught up thinking. About the ways Jungkook was stronger than you. The ways you messed up. If only you had more stamina, if only you could shoot quicker, use more power.

The fight replayed in your head, displaying all the moments you could have responded better.

Was Jungkook right? Were you anywhere near ready to go out there?

“All done.”

You blinked, finding Jimin staring back at you. How long had he been waiting?

“Oh. Thanks,” you tried your best to muster a smile.

Sending you a smile in return, he stood up, placing the first aid box into the cupboard.

“It’s alright. At least you got out relatively unscathed,” he said, “just some bruises, a couple of singes here and there.”

He winced again at the sight of the faint bruising on your neck. Though he wished he could say this wasn’t like the Jungkook he knew, he would be lying.

Jungkook hurt people all the time: all of them did. But here, at home, he was usually at ease with their little family. After everything he had been through, however, Jimin knew very well how short his youngest brother’s fuse could be.

A quiet click announced the newcomer as Hobi poked his head round the bathroom door.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

It fell a little awkwardly in the space. Nothing was alright after tensions had boiled over so violently just half an hour ago, and you all knew it. Still, you gave him a nod.

Slipping into the room, Hope leaned against the counter, dodging out of the way as Jimin threw a few band-aid wrappers in the bin.

“Sorry about Jungkook,” Hope began, “he… he’s a bit protective. But we thought it would get better. It should never have got this far.

“You can do whatever you want today, get food and watch movies. I should think Kook will be training for quite a while.”

The way he said that left no doubt as to what the younger was actually doing. Images from his rage workout the other day invaded your head. Good, as long as he was away from you.

Tugging your hoodie back on to cover the bruises you had acquired, you agreed and followed the others to the living room. Soon taking up residency on the couch, you didn’t intend on moving anywhere soon.

Thankfully, the others didn’t expect you to either. Nor did they push you for conversation when you were so evidently staying quiet, and instead they put a film on and chatted around you.

You didn’t see Jungkook that whole day.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t lingering in your mind, though. At the very least, the slight discomfort from the bruises he had given you served as a reminder of everything that had transpired. But your frustration fluctuated between him and yourself.

If Jungkook’s behaviour could be excused as protective, you were going to need a lot more explanation than that. What reason had you given him to hate you so much?

He hadn’t given you the chance to do anything but fail since you got there, so how could you be expected to trust him?

But while you wanted him to see that you could be trusted, you started to doubt that yourself. Maybe you were trying to help the boys by joining them, but as much as you wanted to deny it, Jungkook had proved that you were weak.

For now, you didn’t want to go near him, so you used that as your excuse for staying put all day, letting the household go about its day around you. But steadily, your mind filled with all the things you needed to work on. You had to patch up the gaps where your powers lacked, and you weren’t going to rely on Jungkook to do it anymore.

Maybe if you proved yourself, they would want you after all? Besides showing your lack of bond with Jungkook, today had surely showed Namjoon that you weren’t up to the task.

That was why he had stood you down.

Which was why you found yourself alone in a training room a few days later.

Since that day, you hadn’t trained. For one thing, your trainer had cemented his place as your mortal enemy, so you had no one to practise your powers with, since the others were all preparing for other things.

As for physical training, you thought they would at least let you do that. But they insisted you needed to rest for a couple more days.

You didn’t protest too much, but you knew this was how it would begin. This was their excuse to stop you training. They had given up on you, thinking you weren’t good enough to join them.

You were going to show them, Jungkook above all.

Now they were away on a mission, Jungkook nowhere to be found, leaving you the opportunity at last.

With the way the last outing had gone, they had switched plans. Now, instead of waiting around for Bolt to strike, they were beginning to relocate their allies, moving important weapons and things to more secure locations, while feeding Bolt’s informants the impression that the vacated premises were still operational. They hoped it would buy some time so they could formulate more of a plan to combat Bolt, without him gaining more power in the meantime.

Of course, Jungkook was still seething. He had made himself scarce the moment the others left, no doubt wanting to avoid spending any time with you.

You weren’t complaining.

Breathing deeply, you assessed the targets you had set up. A smile graced your face. The last time you had trained alone, you had accomplished a lot. Maybe you would try lifting objects again.

But first, you had to work on your speed. That was the main weaknesses Jungkook had highlighted. You weren’t able to keep up with him, and you had to change that.

Rolling out your stiff shoulders, wincing for a moment when it twinged the last remnants of your bruises, you raised an arm.

Your power felt a little rusty as it burst from your palm. Gritting your teeth against the slight tingle of pain, you cut it off and fired again. After a few tries, it felt pretty much normal. You weren’t going to wait any longer.

Lifting both arms now, you alternated your fire, turning in the space as you tried to hit each target. You hit them all, bolstering your confidence as you took a breather and went again. You may have hit them all, but you wanted to be faster.

This time, you didn’t even wait for one bolt to die away before you fired the next one. Focussing on short, sharp bursts, you let your powers pulse through the air.

The rattle and clash of metal filled the space as you shook each target in turn.

You made it around the room again, finding a rhythm, but this time you didn’t stop. Bolt wouldn’t stop if he was attacking you; Jungkook hadn’t. You had to push through.

So when you approached the familiar feeling of your powers slipping, you simply pushed through. You maintained your speed, barely able to keep up with the pace you had set. It was like running while the ground was slipping from under you, but you stayed standing and on your toes, enjoying the exhilaration of the electricity flowing through you.

You felt its power, hot and fierce in your chest, revelling in your ability to control it.

Then, one bolt sputtered and died. You picked it up again in a split second as you fired the next lightning into the space, but it scared you. Picturing the onslaught of gold from the other day, you knew that could cost you dearly in a fight.

So while your powers protested, you pressed on. Now, you had to force out each beam of light, but you weren’t about to stop. You had to improve. You had to succeed.

You didn’t notice when the heat of your powers became unpleasant. That burning sensation hadn’t invaded you for so long, but suddenly it was overwhelming, crashing down on you.

Gasping at the sharp pain, you staggered for a moment, not wanting to stop.

You raised your arm again. This would not defeat you. You had to push through.

Nothing came.

You searched for the familiar feeling to unleash your power, but instead you felt a tangle in your chest, a sparking ball of electricity that hissed at you like a wild animal.

Not now…

A stabbing pain lanced through your chest, blue suddenly erupting into the air. But this time it wasn’t you. Your power clawed its way down your arm, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

Biting down on a pained cry, you looked around in fear at the empty training room.

Though panicked, you knew you had to control it. You had pushed just a little too far, you only needed to reign it in again.

But as you closed your eyes, trying to find the centre of your power, shut it off like you were used to, more blasts leapt from that chasm in your chest. You battled to close it down, but it had power over you now.

Blue filled the space, colliding with the walls, clattering against targets.

Your knees buckled, sending you crashing to the floor. Now, you were unable to control it as you cried out, each release of your power coming with its own wave of pain. You thought you had left this unbearable heat behind, but now it seared through your body with a vengeance as your powers ran rampant.

Control it, control it-

But you couldn’t find space to breathe, let alone to calm your powers. Your arms shook, a tear breaking free from your eye as you gasped.

What had you done?

In your vision, blurry with pained tears and cut up by streaks of luminescent blue, something moved.

Though you lay panting on the floor, you squinted towards it. It was a person.

Were the others back? Your frazzled mind barely had time to wonder this, before the most pressing issue asserted itself again.

Wincing and curling in on yourself as another shot of electricity forced its way from you, you called out. Your voice was raw and shaking, but you had to protect them.

“Don’t come near! I’ll- I might hurt you!”

You knew your voice was thick with tears, but surely they could understand you? Why were they coming closer?

At the same time, both a yelp of pain and a lightning bolt escaped you. Your eyes widened; the figure was directly in its path.

A flash of gold.

The figure ran closer.

Despite your state, you had enough presence of mind to feel your cheeks burning as Jungkook came to a stop in front of you, looking down at you with wide, panicked eyes. For a few seconds, his mouth opened and closed uselessly.

Then, another bolt. And another.

As they cut through the room, leaving behind their signature of burning pain, the world tilted. Your eyes squeezed shut, Jungkook forgotten as the sizzling sting of your powers took up your thoughts.

You wanted it to stop.

“Control it.”

The instruction was muttered in your ear, closer than you expected. The next moment, a weight shifted against your back, pulling you to sit upright and against something. Someone.

Still heaving for air, you shook your head.

“I- I c-can’t!”

Another flash of blue, another flash of pain.

The arm that was looped around you squeezed tighter.

“You have to. Control it.”

And then a hand was placed against your back, steady and firm compared to your own body. It nestled between your shoulder blades.

The next thing you knew, a warm sensation bloomed there. But not uncomfortable, like your own rebelling powers. It bled through you, enveloping the mess that your powers had become. Your eyes slid closed, basking in the relief from the searing pain.

You could feel your powers, a blue weight sitting in your chest. You couldn’t see them, of course, but you had always felt them to be blue – not that you had realised. Not until now, at least, because the calming light that surrounded your power felt startlingly gold in comparison.

After a moment, you were collected enough to take control. With the aid of soothing gold containing your power, you were able to breathe deeply, closing off the electricity as you had done that first time in Namjoon’s office.

The gold faded.

Still, the hand on your back lingered, remaining steady.

“Okay?”

It was only now that the weight of this situation hit you. Jungkook had had to rescue you. From your own powers, no less.

You simply nodded, not trusting words to form.

At your confirmation, his hand finally left you. He had been sitting behind you, supporting you, but now he moved away. You would deny that you missed it.

But he only shifted around to your side, sliding an arm under your own.

“Are you crazy?” he asked, but there wasn’t much bite behind it.

Shaking his head, he muttered a curse as he helped lift you from the ground.

“What were you thinking?”

Again, the usual venom was missing from his voice. You kept your eyes down, not responding.

Huffing a little, he turned towards to the door. And paused.

“Can you get upstairs?”

Chewing on your lip, you kept your eyes fixed on your mug. You found the blanket you were wrapped in very interesting all of a sudden, fiddling and tugging at it with your free hand.

It was quiet.

It had been quiet for a while now, but neither of you were particularly inclined to change that.

Jungkook sat across from you, stiff and upright in his seat while you were huddled inside a blanket. He had sort of thrown it at you earlier. He hadn’t given you a second glance, instructing you rather coldly to sit, but it had to be the closest thing to affection he had ever shown you.

He was also holding a mug of tea. Perhaps it was just for show; he hadn’t lifted it once.

In a moment of weakness, your eyes darted up. You instantly regretted it, as you found his gaze already trained on you, and you both hurriedly averted your eyes again.

Just for something to do, you took a sip of tea, the slurp painfully audible in the silence. Your hand still shook a little when you lifted the mug.

Lowering it slowly, you chewed on your cheek.

“Thanks.”

You blurted it out without much consideration, the silence finally becoming too much for you.

Unfortunately, the quiet hung around a bit longer. Warily raising your eyes again, you watched Jungkook for a reaction.

His eyes were avoiding you, looking instead at a blank spot on the wall.

Then he sucked in a breath, leaning forwards to deposit his still-full mug on the coffee table.

“So do you want to tell me what you were doing?”

Finally his eyes turned to you, leaving you breathless. Your shame over what happened made words stick in your throat, but you knew you would have to explain.

Tearing your gaze from his to glare at your mug again, you felt your cheeks heating up. But you forced yourself to talk.

“You… you were right the other day. I’m not strong enough, or fast enough. I was trying to work on that – on my speed. I thought if I pushed myself, it might help. But I… I just lost control.”

Letting out a breath when you finished speaking, you looked up hesitantly. A light frown was on Jungkook’s face as he assessed you. He was thinking a little too hard for your liking.

He sat back.

“You remind me of Bolt.”

If you were still drinking, you would have choked. Your eyes widened, not knowing how to respond to that. In your search for words, all you could manage was an indignant but half-hearted excuse me?

A smirk quirked the corner of Jungkook’s mouth.

“You’re so pig-headed,” he began, “you treat your powers like some sort of game and pretend you’re good at everything…”

You simply stared, disbelieving. Was he seriously saying this to your face?

“And when you want something, you decide you’re getting it–” he eyed you before adding “–not to mention all the blue shit.”

He gestured in the general direction of all of you. You gaped.

But then he dropped his gaze, sighing.

“I… wanted to knock you down. You’re way too good at everything. You remind me of Bolt because he’s indestructible. Or it seems that way.”

Finally managing to scoff at his words, you shook your head incredulously.

“So now you think I’m good enough?”

“I didn’t want you going out there, okay?” he snapped, “I don’t trust you.”

“Just because my powers look like Bolt’s? Is that it? I never asked for this-”

“I know.”

Jungkook’s voice was softer now, startling your rant to a halt. His hands were clasped, elbows resting on his knees. And he wouldn’t quite look you in the eye.

“You’re not like Bolt. He’s the one that hurt you. I just couldn’t separate the image of you from him, what with you being so… obnoxious, and determined.”

He paused. Sighed.

“And I lied, okay?” his voice was quiet, “you’re fine. Your speed is good, you could pretty much keep up with me, and that’s saying something. I thought you’d know better.”

A frown creased your brows together. Now you were confused.

Looking up once again, he met your eyes.

“You shouldn’t push your powers, surely the others told you that? They can reach their limit, and I’m fairly sure yours did when we fought. Today was too soon, you shouldn’t have worn them out like that. You won’t be able to use them for a while. Not like that, anyway.”

“Like what?”

“Fast. You overwhelmed them, it might take a bit to build up your speed again.”

You swallowed, not wanting to believe his words.

“Or, you just want me out of training-” you bit back, but he cut you off.

“Oh, I couldn’t care less,” he sniggered, “go ahead and burn out your powers for all I care. I’m just telling you.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that. You simply tugged your blanket a little tighter around your shoulders.

“Turns out you’re human just like the rest of us.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Or an insult? You couldn’t really tell.

After a moment holding his gaze, you went back to your tea. The two of you seemed to agree on one thing at least, and that was avoiding each other’s eyes as the silence stretched on.

Even once your mug was emptied, you fidgeted with it, letting your fingers slide around the handle for something to do. Jungkook’s words turned over in your head. It was probably the closest he had ever come to giving you actual advice. Perhaps you should take it, give your powers a rest for a short while.

It surprised you that Jungkook hadn’t yet left. He looked remarkably awkward on the other couch, refusing to relax into the seat but sitting ramrod straight on the edge instead, insisting for some reason on staying there.

Never before had he voluntarily endured your presence for this long.

He seemed to notice you sizing him up. He turned his gaze to find you watching him with your head tilted. And somehow, he too looked hesitant, far from the confidence you usually saw in him.

You swallowed, but didn’t look away.

“Don’t tell the others?”

Your voice was quiet but clear in the space. Jungkook quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re really determined to join us, aren’t you?”

With a sigh, your expression softened. You finally looked away, picking absently at your blanket while you replied.

“I agree with what you guys are doing. Bolt tried to kill me, all because I was just… there, at the wrong time. I didn’t matter to him. That doesn’t seem like someone who cares about protecting people. So I don’t want him to get whatever he wants with those weapons he’s collecting.”

Expecting the usual argument about you being of no use, you kept your eyes stubbornly down. But Jungkook was quiet.

If you looked up, you would have seen him blinking at you. Curious, almost.

But you never did, not until his expression clouded over again and he made to speak.

“And if the others knew you did something this stupid, they’d keep you away from the action even longer.”

You rolled your eyes, but had to admit that Jungkook wasn’t wrong.

“Pretty much,” you conceded, “and I do want this. It finally feels like I have a purpose.”

You had never expected to be so blisteringly honest with Jungkook, but when you laid beseeching eyes on him, you knew you had got through somehow.

Seemingly displeased with his own decision, his mouth straightened into a line.

“Fine. I won’t tell them. But you better not do it again, you know I’ll get the blame as well.”

You weren’t sure if that was entirely true, but if Jungkook wanted to make that his reason for helping you out, then so be it.

At last, it seemed he had reached his limit with you. He stood abruptly, casting one more glance at you, and strode away. Watching his retreating form, you sunk further into the sofa. A subtle smile took up residence on your face.

You hadn’t even put the tv on. Silence filled the apartment and you stared up at the ceiling from your position on the sofa.

Since you and Jungkook talked a few days ago, he had, surprisingly, kept his word. Around the others he stoically ignored you as normal, but also diligently kept his mouth shut about your little accident.

You suspected he also didn’t want to admit to helping you. But whatever kept him quiet worked for you.

It was true that he glanced over at you more often despite his continued frosty attitude towards you. Or perhaps you were imagining that? He was just glaring at you like always – only, you began to read into it too much. Now you two shared a secret, in a sense, it meant that every time his eyes locked with yours they seemed to hold more significance.

However, you had to remind yourself nothing had changed. The two of you were still only here because you were stuck together on Namjoon’s orders. Which was the same reason Jungkook had been the one to help you before.

No, nothing had changed.

Turning your head, you let your cheek fall against the cushion as you hesitantly gazed at the tv. Maybe you should put it on, just to fill the silence?

The lack of noise in the house served as proof that Jungkook wanted as little to do with you as ever. The moment the boys were out, he made himself scarce.

At least you had been permitted to learn more about what exactly they were doing when they went out. They were leaving the house more and more frequently, and for longer stretches of time. Given Bolt’s movements, and his startling power at their last encounter (due to the weapons he had stolen from Kuyang), the boys were launching a counter-operation.

If they couldn’t defend their allies from a direct attack, they had to bide their time until they could build an attack strategy.

So for now, they were relocating important developers to throw Bolt off. Stop him before he could gain even more power; before he became too much of a match for them.

Jin seemed fairly confident that they had tracked Bolt’s sources well enough to feed him misinformation to keep him unaware of their movements. The only risk now lay in the transportation of what you could only assume were deadly weapons through the city.

Standing on the kitchen counter was a small black receiver. You could turn it on if you wanted, hear what was happening.

You were contemplating it when something pulled at your thoughts. Your focus frayed, distracted by that incomprehensible feeling that there was someone behind you.

Flipping over on the sofa, you found Jungkook leaning against the wall. His arms were folded, but there was no glare entrenched on his face. Startled, you eyed his damp hair, the oversized black shirt hanging from his shoulders.

Clearly he had just come from a shower, so why wasn’t he going to train?

The absence of a scowl was really throwing you off. He didn’t look totally comfortable, expression tight and slightly expectant, but what did he want with you?

You raised your eyebrows in question.

He blinked at you, then his eyes slid away from your face, looking somewhere over your head and through to the kitchen.

“Training,” he said.

You continued to stare, but he just as stubbornly avoided your eyes.

After another moment, you huffed and sat up.

“Training?” you echoed.

“We’re going to training.”

“…we?”

“You heard me.”

His response was dry. Already, he was pushing away from the wall and turning his back on you, leaving you little choice but to follow.

Leaving the couch and hurrying after him, you made it to his side on the stairs.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to use my powers? After…”

“Not for speed,” he corrected you, eyes fixed ahead.

A frown furrowed your brow as you reached the training space. Today, you remained in the main, largest room. There was no one around and clearly Jungkook didn’t have want of the targets you normally used, as he stopped right in the middle and turned to you.

His brows were pinched, clearly a little hesitant about this. You noticed the way his teeth pulled slightly at his lower lip.

“Power,” he said.

You stared. With a subtle roll of his eyes, he elaborated.

“Apart from speed, that’s what you need to work on. You need to connect with your powers, feel like the light is an extension of you. Since you can’t work on your agility, it’s time to think about force.”

Nodding, you felt your confidence raise a little. When you had trained by yourself before, you had hit upon that exact feeling he described, an almost physical connection that let you lift the target.

Plus, using a little force would be more than welcome, with the pent up tension you had felt since your last disastrous practice.

Jungkook took your confirmation and stepped forwards into line with you, holding your gaze. He held his arms slightly away from his body, palms facing you.

“Summon your powers and push against me,” he instructed.

It took you a moment to get your bearings and prepare to use your powers. It had been a while. You tried to hide your slight wince when you searched for the powers only to find a scorching, tangled mess where they usually flowed from, like someone had knotted barbed wire there.

Swallowing, you let your eyes slide shut for a moment. It was as if your power was hissing at you, an animal you had to coax from hiding.

But coax it you did, the first slight tug leading them to easily unravel until the electricity flowed through your veins again. Beside a slight tremor in the flow of blue light you released, it seemed fairly normal.

Surely Jungkook wouldn’t approve of the clumsiness with which you handled your powers, though? But when you looked up, he only appeared focussed.

With a small nod as your powers shot through the air, his eyes clouded with gold and his own luminous lightning welled in his hands.

He didn’t fire a strong bolt to match yours. It appeared that he held a small golden fountain in each hand, bubbling gently, just enough to dispel your blue electricity before it could strike his palms.

Your eyes connected.

It was curious, how Jungkook’s eyes looked so much less deadly when they were literally glowing with power. As you held his gaze, you felt no urge to look away. Instead, his focus, gentle and firm at the same time, affirmed you.

Taking a breath, you continued to let your powers flow freely.

“Concentrate on your powers,” he spoke in a low voice, “feel them moving through you. Then follow that feeling outwards, feel where they connect with me.”

Taking in his words with a determined nod, you searched within you for the feeling he spoke of.

This time, you didn’t close your eyes. You were already familiar with the taste of your power in your veins, and found it with little effort.

But you stared into those gold eyes as you searched for him, the sight of them making it easier to find the corresponding sensation. Colliding with your power, you were surprised to stumble across a warmth pulsing against them. You hadn’t even realised you had followed the flow of your powers outside your fingertips; the feeling hadn’t altered as far as you could tell.

Sure enough, however, there was Jungkook – it was undeniable. Inexplicably, the intensity of his eyes felt the exact same as the fiery power rushing to meet your own lightning.

Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s lips twitched into a smirk.

“You can feel it, right?”

Now you had found it, it was easy to hold onto the sensation of his powers as they met your own.

Elated, you exhaled with a smile. His grew too.

“I’m going to push back now,” he said, “keep the connection. It’ll be like arm wrestling, only with our powers.”

You knew you should have felt a little sceptical about that. If it was anything like arm wrestling, Jungkook would be able to topple you in a second. He had been training much longer than you, and was undeniably stronger.

In fact, all you felt was an ignition in your chest, competitiveness flaring up inside you.

Jungkook’s expression shifted into focus. His smirk slipped into a concentrated line.

Where the gold in his eyes had been rippling lazily, it now grew in ferocity, blazing harshly in contrast to the abysses of his dark pupils.

The instant his powers switched, you felt it. No longer a soft warmth, they sent a jolt through you as they connected in earnest, the threads of your electricity fusing together like wires and throwing out a ball of sparks.

The molten light warred in the air between you, your eyes no doubt as vivid as Jungkook’s as you allowed more power through your palms to match his force.

To your surprise, they complied instantly. It seemed your powers were enjoying being let out like this, having lashed out the last time when you had stubbornly forced them to stop and start. With the growing power flowing from you, their connection with Jungkook strengthened as well. You could sense a distinctly gold force clashing with your powers.

Even though you could see the point where your powers converged, the feeling allowed you to notice every minute crackle of electricity, every pulse of Jungkook’s lightning.

Just like before, when you had lifted the target, your powers felt much more than just a fleeting rush of sparks. They formed a bridge outwards from your body, reaching beyond.

You felt strong.

And if Jungkook wanted to wrestle, you weren’t going to go down easily.

Channelling yet more power outwards, you pushed hard against his gold powers where they met your own.

For a moment, you succeeded in subduing the opposing force. Sparks flew again, Jungkook staggering back a step as the gold light retreated from your advance, blue dominating the bolt of energy that connected you two.

Jungkook smiled.

The next moment, it became clear he had been waiting for you to get used to the feeling and make a move. But you had no time to be touched by his newfound patience as you found yourself battling against a renewed burst of pressure from his end.

Raising your arms to be level with your shoulders, aiming at him, you gritted your teeth and stubbornly weathered the temptation to step back as his powers shoved against yours.

Now both of you were using all your energy, the connection was more vivid than before. You could sense every vein of the electricity, his as well as yours. Finding strength from somewhere, you resisted his onslaught and managed to take a step forwards.

Your tussle continued, fire against fire, both of you matching the other’s power but advancing until you were practically toe to toe.

Outstretched, slightly above your head, your hands were level, vibrant light still connecting them although his palm was just inches from yours. A waterfall of blue and gold sparks fell between your faces while you stared at each other with blazing eyes. Your breathing was heavy, trying to keep up with his relentless power, but Jungkook was also panting, damp hair falling over his eyes.

You were out of breath, but the warm air brushing over your face from Jungkook’s lips assured you that you weren’t the only one.

A sharp, exhilarated smile lit up his mouth. A brow quirked, his words breathless as he spoke.

“Not bad. Hold it…”

Sucking in a breath, you prepared for one last effort. Avoiding Jungkook’s eyes had long left your priority list, and now you were drawn in by the burning gold within them. It was like you were staring at the sun, but you couldn’t look away, not even when their light grew, yet more of his power flowing through you.

His gaze burned just as intently back, eyes trained on your own which were surely lit up blue. A slight crease formed in his brow, perhaps from concentration…

Again, you matched his power even as he overloaded the connection, more and more energy sparking in the air-

His gaze flitted away, the connection cutting abruptly.

For a moment, the brightness of the sparks, and Jungkook’s eyes, left dazzling prints on your vision even as they sputtered from existence. Air rushed in and out of your lungs, the exertion not hitting you until now.

Without the channel to focus your energy, you staggered back from Jungkook, blinking in the relative dimness.

Sensing the strength that had drained from you, you let yourself take another step to sink against the wall behind you. Breathing still heavy, you looked up at Jungkook. Though his chest heaved too, cheeks slightly flushed under his dripping hair, he hadn’t moved an inch.

Only when you met his eyes, which had returned to their regular darkness, did he start, quickly marching away to grab water bottles from the corner of the room.

One flew in your direction. Just about managing to snatch it from the air, you took an eager sip. Now you had had time to catch your breath, a strange silence settled.

“How did it feel?”

Jungkook wasn’t even looking at you. He had made his way to the bottom of the staircase, and now leaned against them, apparently finding the floor very interesting.

Hesitantly, you made your way closer, following a step behind as he started climbing back to the main house.

“Yeah, my powers, they feel… it wasn’t painful,” you replied, “they’re like normal again.”

Jungkook nodded.

“You did good. Still, don’t push it.”

By then, you had reached the top of the stairs. After pausing for a moment, Jungkook awkwardly moved away to the kitchen, while you hung back to have a shower.

The odd tension that had clung to the space between you since training occupied your mind as the water flowed over you, reinvigorating your tired body. In a way, it was just like usual. You and Jungkook had never been comfortable around each other.

But then why did it feel odd now?

The training session had given you a taste of something different. For once, Jungkook hadn’t spent the time trying to antagonise you. Instead, you had a real chance to push yourself.

It was probably the fact that, after so long without using your powers, you simply missed feeling the rush of electricity. No matter if it was also because connecting with Jungkook's powers had felt so thrilling too.

That thought was gone as quickly as the water running over you. Outside the training room at least, you knew where you stood. And that was very, very far from Jungkook.

Which is why you were so perplexed when you reached the kitchen, and didn’t find it empty.

Pausing in the hallway, you honestly considered turning back around and leaving. Trust Jungkook to try and claim the kitchen since you were absent.

But you weren’t going to be deterred. You were hungry.

It was his fault anyway, for training you so hard, so you took a breath and pushed your damp hair behind your shoulder before striding into the space.

At first, you made your best attempt at keeping your chin up, confident while also acting as if you magically couldn’t see Jungkook at all. It was how you usually approached each other. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop yourself from noticing that whatever he was making wasn’t going well.

Halfway through throwing your own ingredients onto the counter, you stopped to cast a sceptical eye over the mess he was making. He was making an equally good show of not noticing your presence, and continued throwing in random sauces, not before eyeing them all fairly hesitantly first.

Biting your lip, you shrugged it off and turned your eyes back to your own dinner.

But you could no longer ignore it when he took a taste from his spoon and quite literally recoiled.

Loudly putting your knife down, you sighed in frustration.

“Do you want some help?”

Quickly straightening out his face from the way it had been screwed up from the taste, he blinked around at you. He really did look surprised at your presence.

You rolled your eyes, marching over to him and peering into his pan.

“What are you making?”

Folding his arms across his chest, you could hear the pout in his voice as he replied.

“Tteokbokki.”

You stared. At the food, which certainly did not resemble tteokbokki, and then at Jungkook.

“No you’re not.”

“I am! Jin always makes it like this!”

“Maybe when he’s making something for his science experiments,” you scoffed.

Defiant, Jungkook reached for his packet of soft rice cakes, totally ignoring you. You had to lunge across the counter to save them from a grizzly fate in that pan of definitely not tteokbokki.

Deep down, he clearly agreed with you, because he didn’t protest all that much as you forcibly removed the pan from the stove, depositing the whole mess in the bin.

“This is how you’ve been eating?”

Jungkook looked a little startled, his eyes wide for a moment before he managed to resurrect his scowl.

“We ran out of ramen,” he muttered.

You stared at him in disbelief. Had no one taught him to cook?

“What would Jin say?” you huffed, returning to the stove and elbowing him out the way.

Before long, you had your own meal cooking, now with some extra added. After a few moments, Jungkook had skulked away, watching you silently from the table. Once again, you pretended not to pay him any mind.

Two steaming bowls of (actually edible) food eventually made it to the table.

Sitting down opposite him, neither of you began for a moment. Each of you was waiting for the other to do something.

When at last you reached for your chopsticks, the sound was deafening against the strained silence between you.

Perhaps Jungkook was encouraged to see you didn’t drop dead after taking a bite, because he finally started to eat as well. Not that you let yourself look at him beyond the odd brief glance. You kept your attention firmly on the meal, which was actually quite tasty if you did say so yourself.

“Thanks.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes shooting up to stare at Jungkook. He stopped mid-bite, big eyes returning your bewildered gaze as if he had no idea who had spoken.

You blinked. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze again, picking at your food.

“No problem.”

“It’s nearly as good as Jin’s,” he drawled next.

Disbelieving, you swallowed your next bite and raised your eyebrows.

“Are you seriously trying to come for me after I gave you food?”

“That’s a compliment!” he defended.

“Sure.”

“Fine,” he huffed, attacking his food a bit more aggressively.

Taking a breath, you chewed your lip. Jungkook took a bite with more force than strictly necessary, brows furrowed. Maybe he had really meant it in a nice way?

You had trouble believing that, somehow.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than yours would have been,” you grumbled, then paused. “but… I suppose Jin is a very good chef.”

For a moment, Jungkook didn’t reply. But he finished chewing and set his chopsticks down a bit more gently.

“Why would I have to practise cooking when he’s always here to do it?” he murmured.

Deciding for once to take the opportunity to ease the situation, you smiled.

“I don’t blame you.”

Both of you allowed a temporary ceasefire to settle as you cleared your plates. You didn’t miss Jungkook’s glance towards the little black receiver standing on the table.

With the frequency of operations at the moment, it was clear Namjoon classed the whole situation with Bolt as an emergency. Jungkook hadn’t been wrong – Jin was usually there, or one of the others, to cook. As much as it still surprised you that he was so clueless, you saw that prying was going to get you nowhere.

He wasn’t the only one that missed the others, though. Or hoped they were okay.

You leaned over and turned the receiver on.

Thank you for reading! I really mean it, it's wonderful now I'm finally sharing this story to hear what you guys think as we go through it!! I appreciate every last one of you who comments💜💜

Let me know if you want to join the taglist!!

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#jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook series #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook mafia #jeongguk scenarios #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk angst #bts series #bts supernatural au #jungkook supernatural au #jungkook fanfic

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grayson1996 · 5 hours

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"Master Dick has left."

Bruce didn't respond, not that Alfred anticipated he would. The man had been infuriatingly quiet the last few months. Never saying more than a few words at a time to him, and never the one to initiate the dialogue.

Alfred hadn't been surprised, when Martha and Thomas passed Bruce had become mute for months. Alfred had been beside himself with concern, dragging the young boy to child psychologists and specialists. Certain he was already messing up this tremendous responsibility he had been given.

It made sense that Bruce would revert back to the bad habit with Jason's death.

It had almost been a relief when Richard arrived and he could hear the familiar melody of the two of them arguing, floating up the cave stairs. It was some sign that Bruce was still there, buried behind layers of grief and guilt.

He hadn't thought the fight would end in a punch, it never had before. But as soon as Alfred heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh and Richards body crash to the floor he had bolted downstairs. Just in time to hear Bruce destroy any goodwill that remained between him and his only living son.

Despite popular belief, Alfred hadn't been the butler for decades. He was the guardian of Wayne Manor and his protection of it did not stop at Bruce. This was why his first step had been to ensure that Richard was alright as his oldest stomped away, most likely to skulk in the study.

The younger man was so far from fine it only served to further fester the disappointment he felt in Bruce. A disappointment that made way to determination. Alfred had allowed Bruce to destroy everything around him after his parent's death, he had assumed the boy had needed to to move on. He was still paying for that choice every time he saw one of them don a mask and go out into the streets of Gotham.

He would not stand for it now.

Not now that there was more than just Alfred in Bruce's line of attack. Who would feel the reverbs of destruction.

Ms. Troy picked Dick up, and Alfred got the sense that the only reason she herself was not heading up to ream into Bruce, was because she could see a rare fire of rage reflecting back in his eyes. The two left, leaving Alfred with some relief knowing that Dick was out of the crosshairs.

When he finally made his way to the Manor he was right, Bruce was sitting in a high-backed armchair in his study. Face blank, and gaze looking unseeingly out the window as the first rays of dawn poked over the horizon.

Alfred was tired.

"Master Dick has left." Bruce didn't respond, not that Alfred anticipated he would. The man had been infuriatingly quiet the last few months. "Master Dick has left." He repeated, unwilling to let the man get away with silence this time.

For a moment Alfred could read the barest hint of guilt before it was buried under a veneer of indifference.

"What do you want?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow unimpressed, oh absolutely not.

"I would like many things Master Bruce, most notably for you to remove your head from where it's been so thoroughly put up your own ass." That at least got a reaction, since the arrival of the kids Alfred had preferred more subtle ways to admonish Bruce. But that was a kindness reserved for men who did not hit their sons.

"Go away Alfred."

"I will not." Alfred closed the study door behind him with a sense of finality that made Bruce shift slightly in his set. "I would like to understand what the hell it is you think you're doing?" The guilt was back but Bruce again hid it, this time with a snare.

"If you're talking about Dick, I was only telling him the truth. I don't need a partner, I don't need him, and I certainly do not need to be chided by you."

Anger was Bruce's defense mechanism and always had been. Alfred did not have the patience to humor it.

"In all the years I've known you, Master Bruce, you have never been cruel. It is unbefitting and frankly undeserved." Bruce's eyes flared at that.

"I lost my son!" I have lost so many, and yet I have never used it as an excuse to harm the ones I have left.

"I know.... You don't get to decide what happens to you in life. But you do get to choose how you will react to it and you're choosing wrong."

"Batman doesn't need-"

"I don't give a damn what Batman may or may not need!" Alfred felt his cool dissipate, leaving with it a weariness and a rage years in the making. He hated Batman, and hated it when Bruce hid behind him. "I don't give a damn about that mask of yours. Any and all of my loyalty and love has only been directed at you Master Bruce, not him. But you're quickly destroying it."

Bruce opened his mouth as though to argue, but perhaps seeing the ire held within Alfred decided against it. The fist crack in his stoic mask was showing however, as Alfred could see his eyebrows furrow deeply in some unexpressed emotion. Alfred continued,

"As soon as you brought that boy into this life his needs trumped yours and I refuse to stand here and watch as you treat him like the scum of the earth. As you verbally berate and physically demolish him just because you cannot cope. I stood by for too long but I will not stand for this. You've already lost one son and you're dangerously close to losing another if the damage is not already done. And mark my words Master Bruce, if you decide this is the path you're determined to go down, this path of cruelty and spite and solitude, I will stand with Master Dick and not you." This seemed to surprise Bruce, but Alfred didn't know why, he was many things but a pushover was not one of them. "I will not stand with you. Not this version of you who lacks any empathy and thinks he's the only man in this godforsaken family with any right to grieve." His voice broke on that last word, which seemed to spear through Bruce as he flinched at the noise.

"Alfred-"

"I've grieved with you Bruce. Lord knows I've grieved with you. But I refuse to grieve for you, not while you're still alive and still have the chance to fight." He walked over to Bruce, the man watching him warily from his seat as Alfred took his face in his hands. "My dear boy, you need to fight."

"I am fighting Alfred, everyday, I am fighting. But you don't understand what its like to lose a son." Bruce's words weren't mean, were all but desperate, but Alfred still received them like a slap in the face. He tightened his grip on Bruce's face.

"I loved Jason, I loved you, I understand all to well what your going through. I know your pain my boy, I have it, in the whole of my soul I feel it. But your cruelty is something I can't understand. Why you've decided that the best way to express your own pain is by inflicting it on others I can't understand. How you continuously do everything in your power to make Richard feel like nothing, that I can't understand..."

Finally, Alfred let go, standing up he ran a hand down his shirt, as though he could smooth out the flusteredness he was feeling.

"I don't mean to."

Alfred let out a sigh, once again feeling unbelievably exhausted.

"I know Master Bruce, but somehow that makes it worse." The sun was continuing to wain over the horizon, and Alfred thought maybe, just for today, he would sleep in. He started walking to the door, however before he could cross the threshold, he looked back at Bruce. Whose face looked both ancient and unbelievably young under the golden glow. "I have raised three boys Master Bruce. Three sons. I love you, but Richard is just as much mine as yours and I will not let you hurt him. Not again."

He turned and left the room. Hoping that he would not once again prove the Sisphysis to Bruce's unmovable rock.

#batman #dick grayson #batfamily #jason todd #bruce wayne #nightwing #robin #batfam #dc comics #alfred pennyworth #death in the family #batfamily fic

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meixstar · 1 day

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heyy, i saw that your requests are open and i was wondering if i could please request fluff with sukuna, comforting the reader when they have a bad mental health day if its okay, thank you🩵

❥ Synopsis In the end everything will be fine, if just for a moment.

❥ Pairing Sukuna x Reader

❥ Content gn!reader, mentions of mental health, some swearing, fluff, slight angst to comfort, Sukuna being Sukuna

❥ Word Count 905

❥ A/N Thank you for your request, Anon! :) I should have done more research about mental health but I still hope this comforts whoever needs it right now. I'm also still learning how to exactly write characters and their personalities so please be patient with me, and give me some tips if you like c: Take care of yourself and enjoy!

♡ Finding Comfort in the Storm ♡

It was clear that today hadn't been the best day - not after oversleeping, missing an important deadline, and then once again getting yelled at by your boss.

Why did these things always have to happen to you?

Sukuna could tell that you weren't feeling well. Or at least he knew that something must be bothering you by the look on your face. Was he annoyed that you won't tell him? Definitely.

"Oi, what is it with you today?" He speaks in his deep voice as he watches you flop down on the couch beside him, face buried in the soft material. You just shake your head, not daring to meet his eyes while your own fill with tears.

Today had been really stressful, and now you just want to let go and let everything out.

"Don't play dumb with me, I know you're upset over something," he says gruffly, pulling on your arm to make you sit up. His fingers wrap around your wrist like a vice as he examines your face, trying to figure out what's going on behind those tears.

"I'm not," you answer in a weak attempt to stop him from further investigating. "Today's just been.. shitty." Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your half-hearted response. "Save it, brat. You think I don't know when someone is lying to me? What's going on? Did someone bother you?"

The grip on your wrist tightens ever so slightly as he leans closer, his breath hitting your forehead. Finally, the tears are being spilled as they run down your cheeks. You desperately try to dry them with the sleeve of your sweater but to no avail.

He lets out a low growl under his breath, his expression darkening as he watches you cry, his gaze piercing through the tears, almost as if searching for the root of your distress. "Tell me." his demand is soft-spoken yet laced with an underlying intensity that brooks no refusal.

"I-I'm tired," quiet sobs leave your lips as you lower your head to flee his piercing gaze. "All week I've been just so tired. I can barely get out of bed, shower or find the motivation to eat. Work has been stressing me out as well. I just.. want to sleep."

His grip on your wrist eases, his touch gentling as he reaches out with his free hand to brush away the strands of hair clinging to your damp cheek. "And you thought you could handle it all on your own, huh?" a hint of amusement creeps into his voice, accompanied by a raised eyebrow, though his eyes remain fixed on yours, probing deeper.

You shrug weakly in a feeble attempt to respond to him. "I have to," you answer in a hoarse voice from your crying session. "But at the same time, I feel like I can't even take care of myself sometimes. I hate that feeling.."

A fleeting glimmer of curiosity flickers across Sukuna's face before he masks it with a neutral expression, his gaze never wavering from yours "So, you'd rather exhaust yourself than admit weakness and ask for help?" his words are laced with a subtle, probing quality, as if he's digging deeper into the recesses of your mind.

You let out a quiet sniff and wipe your nose with your sleeve. "What?" With a slow raise of your head, you come once again face-to-face with him. His expression is cold, yet there lies something else.. perhaps tenderness? Care? Who knows.

Sukunas eyes seem to bore into you, "You're still not getting it, are you?" he whispers ever so slightly. His breath dances across your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he inches closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "You don't have to be strong all the time." that was.. unusual for him. Him? The King of Curses saying you should let your guard down?

Once again, your lips begin to tremble. But it's still so hard to do just that - being not strong when everyone, including yourself to be just that at any given moment. "Let go, just for tonight. Let someone else carry the weight of your heavy burden for once." his words are laced with a promise, a silent vow to be that someone who'll hold you together when everything seems to be falling apart.

"I'm tired.." a weak whisper into his ear as you slowly begin to calm down. Sukuna's lets go of your wrist, and he wraps his arms around you instead, pulling you close as he settles back into the couch, cradling you against his chest. "Then sleep. I've got you." his words are low, reassuring, and for once, devoid of any arrogance or condescension.

"Since when are you so good at comforting?" you let out a big yawn as the tiredness you so desperately tried to avoid comes seeping through.

A low, rumbling chuckle vibrates through his chest, making you feel the vibrations against your ear. "I'm not. I'm just good at manipulating people to get what I want." he murmurs, his hand stroking your hair in gentle, soothing motions. "And right now, I want you to relax."

A small smile forms on your face before you drift off into a peaceful slumber. Sukuna's gaze lingers on your serene face, his expression softer than usual, before he looks away. His eyes drift towards the window, where the first hints of darkness are creeping in.

♡ fanart from @xshuh90 on pinterest ♡

♡ divider by @benkeibear ♡

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk fluff #fluff #how do i use tumblr #request #jjk smut #jjk gojo #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you

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sugoi-and-spice · 3 days

Text

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Playing Pretend

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn

A/N: Hnnnnnnnngh, something something, commentary commentary idk. I'm caught up with the manga. Life is meaningless lol. Hopefully this chapter can ease the pain a little (though probably not much since we're hopping right back into angst town lmao, I'm so sorry)

Read Full on AO3

[excerpt]

Luxury. That was the word of the night. Everything about this experience dripped with luxury. Luxury was in the limousine that All for One had been so generous to charter for their pick up. It was in the Don Perignon chilled and waiting for them inside that her parents were kind enough to let her have a glass of. And it was in the Palace Hotel Ballroom that the company had rented out for this party. From every tuxedo-wearing waiter carrying trays of canapes around the room, every member of the string quartet playing Schubert as they entered, even to every Swarovski crystal ornament on the ceiling high Christmas tree in the center of the room. It was all pure, unadulterated luxury.

And it honestly had her wondering for a moment.

“You sure we’re in the right place?” she whispered to her mom, earning a reassuring squeeze.

“No, I’m not,” her mom joked back, just as hushed, “But we’re going to pretend like we are regardless.”

She looked back at her mom curiously. If she was feeling uneasy about the sky high expenditure and decorum of this place, she could only imagine how out of her element her mom was. She herself had spent her entire life ping-ponging between lower and upper middle class. But her mom, even before she’d been in foster care, had only known the heights of a paycheck to paycheck smalltown flower shop. Tie in the not insignificant times she’d spent living exclusively in manga cafes, and she could only imagine what an out of body experience she was having at this moment.

Although, maybe she wasn’t as out of her element as she thought.

If her mom was feeling any nerves or apprehension, it all went away the moment they were approached some of her father’s new, upper echelon bosses and colleagues, beautiful women on their arms (some being the mens’ wives, some being definitely not the mens’ wives), and she was rubbing elbows and talking the talk like the best of them.

“So, was that your first time in a limo?” Yamamoto, one of her dad’s bosses asked the bunch.

“Is it that obvious? ” her mother smiled politely

“Oh on the contrary. I think you all look quite natural at an event like this,” he turned then to her father, “A very handsome family, son. You should be proud.”

Her father smiled, giving her shoulder a little squeeze, “More than you can imagine. My oldest here is a senior at Kamino, and one of the top in her class.”

“Is that so?” Yamamoto said, turning to her, “Entrance exams are just around the corner, aren’t they? You feeling ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered, trying not to think about it too long, lest she get nervous.

That was pretty much the course of all her conversations tonight, so far at least. If it wasn’t asking her about her college plans, it was middle-aged VP’s telling her what a looker she was and how she “must have guys lining up for her at school”. Blegh.

All throughout she just smiled and nodded politely while trying not to look around too much for Shigaraki, who surprisingly, for the first quarter of the party, was nowhere to be found. Same for All for One.

Weird, she thought at first, considering that this was their freaking party. Until she overheard one of her dad’s coworkers mention to him, “You know how much that ol’ bastard likes to make an entrance.”

As if on cue, the double doors to the ballroom opened (she hadn’t even realized they’d been shut?!) And in strutted All for One, standing tall and pompous as ever. She had to fight the biggest eye roll of her life as a soft applause filled the room, and he waved them off as if he wouldn’t have been completely pissed had the room been silent.

But just as fast as annoyance crossed her face, she couldn’t fight the skip in her chest when Tomura Shigaraki followed into the ballroom behind him.

He’d cleaned up, and he’d cleaned up freaking good.

His typical ill-fitting sweats and hoodie had been switched out for an impeccably crisp, slim fit suit that did his long legs and defined figure all the favors in the world. His hair was not only brushed, but obviously had some care put into it, fringe still in his face, but strategically so. He kept his eyes, staring forward intensely, intimidatingly, in full view.

And on top of it all, much to her shock and joy, was the red jacket she’d bought for him hanging off his shoulders almost capelike. He’d even kept the fur part on and she’d be remiss to say it didn’t make him look like royalty.

He didn’t just look amazing, he looked like a leader.

Her mom leaned down to her, nudging her not so subtly out of her awe, “Didn’t I see you bring home a jacket like that the other day?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” she said, swatting away at her, but still unable to take her eyes off Shigaraki through it all.

The two crossed to the center of the room, stopping directly under the giant Christmas tree, where a member of the hotel staff was there to meet All for One with a microphone.

“Thank you all so much for coming tonight…” he started an inevitably long and pompous speech that she was eager to tune out.

And it was easy to do so, the longer she stared at his ward, admiring the way he stood off to the side of All for One, head held high, but still unmistakably himself as he stuffed a hand into his pant pocket.

She smiled at the sight. Seeing him like this, she couldn’t help but be brought back to a few months ago. To that fateful dinner her family had shared with the Shigarakis. The one that Tomura had worn a ratty old hoodie to and had spent the whole night either slouching in his chair, avoiding eye contact, or feeling her up under the table. There was none of that immaturity or recalcitrance here tonight. While he may not have learned the ways of the fake smile and schmoozing that practically permeated the air here, the hard bitterness in his expression was one that could actually be interpreted as polished stoicism. An authority that was hard to impress. And above all, the model heir to his guardian’s company.

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daddy-dins-girl · 2 days

Text

Playdate - Chapter Eleven

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 6.8k

Chapter Summary: Dave wakes up... needy.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. (BIG SPOILERS IN THE TAGS!) Smut, smut and more smut. Literally just all porn, no plot. Soft!Dave to start but eventual Dom!Dave. Sub!Reader. Sub!Marcus. Oral Sex (m and f receiving). F/M/M threesome. Some M/M action in this one. Daddy kink. Praise kink. Vaginal and anal fingering (f receiving). Anal sex. And finally, the tag you've all been waiting for... Double Penetration!

A few hours later you wake up with your limbs entangled with Dave’s somehow involuntarily in your sleep and Marcus is still on the other side, half draped over him, asleep. You have no sense of what time it is, but given that there’s zero light coming in through the window you know it has to be the middle of the night still, you’ve maybe gotten a few hours of rest. Dave is staring at you, you can see it despite how dark the room still is, and maybe that’s what had woken you up, like you’d sensed his penetrating stare somehow.

Dave brings a hand up and gently grabs your chin between his thumb and first finger and tilts your head slightly upwards before he leans in, his lips pressing softly into yours. You react like an old habit, your lips molding perfectly with his as you open your mouth slightly to his prodding tongue and deepen the kiss, both of you letting out a moan when the tips of your tongues brush against each other. He still tastes faintly of alcohol but mostly he just tastes familiar, like the Dave you’d once been so used to.

After a few short seconds, once your brain has a chance to catch up, you gently push on Dave’s chest and he pulls back just a fraction, gaze still holding yours.

You ask the question that you need to hear the answer to before you’ll consider anything further and whisper it into the limited space between you, “are you still drunk?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in the tiniest smirk. “No,” he answers easily, sounding clear, and despite everything, you believe him. “Just… please?”

You simply nod your head and then close the gap between you once more, recapturing his lips and swallowing what’s left of his desperate plea, both of you closing your eyes and giving in. Dave pushes himself up slightly further, turning more toward your direction and leaning on the elbow closest to you and the hand that was under your chin leaves you to reach out blindly to his other side behind him, gently stirring Marcus awake by rubbing a hand back and forth at his chest and grabbing at the neckline of his t-shirt. You hear Marcus begin to shift slightly as he wakes and then open your eyes to see him also pushing himself up slightly on his side, facing you and crowding into Dave’s back, arm still slung around his waist from where it had been earlier while he was asleep.

“You’re okay?” Marcus rasps, voice still thick with sleep as his hand absently moves back and forth across Dave’s stomach, maybe just wanting to ensure he’s actually here and this isn’t a dream.

Dave takes his free hand that was on Marcus just moments ago and places it overtop of Marcus’ on his abdomen, interlacing their fingers and giving him a gentle squeeze before letting out a quiet “I’m fine. Better now,” and Marcus simply nods his head, pulling himself up slightly further and pressing directly into Dave’s back.

No more words are exchanged. At least not yet. You’re half worried that if you were to say something out loud the spell would be broken and everything would stop. Or worse yet, you’d wake up only to realize you’d dreamt this whole night.

Right now, in the near pitch blackness of your bedroom that the three of you have been in together countless times, you focus only on the feeling of hands exploring, lips touching, hot breaths mingled together and everything feels right again. Perfect, even.

Your eyes close once more while you continue kissing Dave but they flutter open when you feel him pulling away a few moments later. You see a hand on his shoulder pulling him back and realize it’s Marcus, turning Dave and gently forcing him down on his back between the two of you. Marcus sits all the way up suddenly, wrenching his shirt off his back in one quick motion and tossing it across the room before bringing a hand down to Dave’s chest, fingers deftly popping open the buttons of his shirt one by one. Slow. Methodical.

You reach a hand out to his waist and assist your husband by tugging the hem of Dave’s shirt out of his pants so Marcus can get the rest of the buttons undone and then your hand immediately slides lower to the growing bulge at the front of Dave’s jeans. He responds to your touch immediately, hips slightly raising to chase the pressure of your hand and he’s moaning into the heat of your mouth when you lower your lips back to his as you cup him over the denim.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,”

Dave is the first to speak as he breaks away from the kiss and lets his head drop back into the pillow, and you think it just slipped out. His eyes are squeezed shut like he’s physically pained by how aroused he is already, his brow furrowed like he’s actively trying to concentrate on not coming in his jeans.

You lean over him, lips right against his ear as you gently hush him and whisper, “let us take care of you.”

He lets out a moan and gently nods his head before his eyes snap open again, not wanting to miss anything. He turns his head to the left where Marcus has his shirt fully open and his own large warm hand splayed across Dave’s upper body, feeling every inch of his broad chest and up his shoulders, sliding up to his neck and then back down again. Marcus’ free hand goes to cup himself over his sweatpants, gently squeezing and adjusting his own hardening cock while his other hand digs into the meat of Dave’s shoulder, slowly massaging and kneading the flesh there, just needing to have his hands on him as he watches you down below.

“Fuck,” Marcus groans after a few moments pass and then bends down, lowering his upper body far enough so that this mouth can take over for his hand that has been exploring Dave. He licks and nips down the side of his throat, over his clavicle and keeps moving downwards until his teeth graze over a nipple and Dave hisses through his teeth, quickly followed by a groan while Marcus mumbles incoherently into the heated flesh and doesn’t let up, exploring every inch of flesh his mouth can reach.

Your hand had been slowly rubbing Dave’s cock to life under his jeans but you’d otherwise just been staring at the scene unfolding before you. Gathering your wits, you manage to snake out from Dave’s side and push yourself up to your knees next to his hips and your hands go to his belt, gently tugging it open and then flicking open the button and dragging his zipper down. He helps you by lifting his hips slightly and you tug the dark denim down far enough down his legs that he can kick them off the rest of the way. You waste no time, your hands going to his thighs and gliding upwards and you see the hard outline of his desire twitch from under the strained cotton of his boxers. You bend over him, face hovering above his crotch before you tilt down even further and begin to kiss and rub at his cock through his underwear. He’s practically squirming underneath you and you can barely believe this is happening right now. It was usually always the other way around, Dave teasing and picking away at you until you’re reduced to a puddle of moans and whimpers, but you want tonight to be about him and you’re glad that he seems to be too caught up in his own pleasure to deny either of you this.

Dave reaches both hands out, one getting lost in Marcus’ hair and the other in yours as you both continue to pleasure him with hands and tongues as he gently writhes underneath you, lost in all the sensations overwhelming him. He’s hard as steel under your hand and you finally offer him some relief, shoving his boxers down so his cock and balls spring free and taking him in your mouth until he reaches near the back of your throat.

You moan around his stiff length the moment you taste the precum hit your tongue. It’s been so long, you just want to worship at the temple that is his cock and so you begin to do just that; licking, sucking, tasting every inch of him.

“God, fuck,” Dave groans, hand in your hair gripping tighter as you continue to swallow him down. Marcus seems to get caught up in all the commotion; the lewd sounds of your slurping and Dave’s incoherent gasps and groans has his mouth leaving Dave as he gets up onto his knees, Dave’s hand falling away from his head in the process, wanting to watch you bob your head up and down on the other man’s cock.

“Fuck, you look so hot right now Baby,” Marcus praises you, breathing a little laboured as he leans back on his knees to watch you swallow down a cock that isn’t his own.

Dave turns his head left to see Marcus kneeled next to him and reaches out his hand out and starts rubbing the other man over the thin layer of his sweats, feeling his already half hard dick twitch and swell under his touch.

“Shit,” Marcus groans, tossing his head back for a brief moment. You look up from between Dave’s legs to see what all the ruckus is about and a grin forms across your lips that are stretched around Dave’s thick, leaking member.

Fuck, they’re hot.

Marcus snaps out of his momentary haze and brings his left hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers before he reaches over behind you and between your legs to play with your pussy and you immediately moan around Dave, taking him faster and deeper down your throat as Marcus’ fingers sinking into your core only spur you on, getting your more turned on by the second.

“Holy shit,” Dave groans, hand falling away from Marcus so both of his can get lost in your hair as you continue to swallow him down. His grip tightens a little but he otherwise leaves you to it, doesn’t force or control your movements in any way, just content to be along for the ride.

You moan around him once more, take him as far down your throat as you can manage without gagging and then finally release him with a wet pop, knowing he’s already getting close and you’re nowhere near finished with him yet.

“Mmm, what do you need Baby, hmmm?” you ask, tongue darting out to lick a long slow stripe up the underside of his cock and he growls, fist gripping a little tighter in your hair at your teasing actions.

“Come up here,” he chokes out, releasing your hair and waving you towards him. You quickly obey, crawling up the mattress as Marcus’ hand falls away from you and Dave takes the moment to shuck out of his shirt, pants and underwear while you slowly stalk towards him. Marcus takes the opportunity to quickly pull his own boxers and sweats down and then reaches over Dave, grabbing for the hem of your night shirt and tugging it upwards while Dave pushes eagerly at your bottoms and you let out a little laugh as you try your best in assisting both of them with undressing you. It’s an awkward tangle of limbs for a couple of seconds but soon you’re all free of any last vestments of clothing and blissfully naked before each other.

Dave reaches out and grabs at your chin from your hands and knees position next to him and yanks you slightly forward. “Think you’re cute being a little cocktease baby? Think you’re in charge here?” he asks, hand gripping your jaw a little tighter and you hastily shake your head back and forth, already feeling that delightful little churn in your lower abdomen when Dave brings out his Dom voice with you.

“That’s right. Who’s in charge?” he asks, voice practically a low growl as he pulls you even closer.

“You are, Daddy,” you breathe out, the arousal not even remotely disguised in your tone. His hand leaves your jaw and you momentarily feel relief but it’s quickly replaced by a hard swat to your ass and you slide slightly forwards on the mattress, letting out some kind of combination of a yelp and a moan.

“Lean across me and then apologize to your husband for being a fucking tease.”

That definitely rips a moan from your throat and you quickly obey, crawling forward so your hands reach across Dave and plant down on the other side of his hips, your face eye level now with your husband's crotch where he’s still up on his knees while you form a bridge across Dave’s abdomen.

Not wasting any time you wrap a hand around Marcus’ shaft and bring the leaking tip to your mouth, sealing your lips around him and taking him deep into your throat. You let out a moan around him when another sharp smack lands on your ass but this time Dave leaves his hand there and starts massaging the cheek in his hand roughly before his hand dips lower between your legs and finds your soaked folds.

“God damnit baby,” Dave groans the moment he feels how wet you are. He forgot how worked up you could get and it’s been way too fucking long since he’s had anyone but himself to touch. “Forgot how much you loved taking cock down your throat,” he says and you can do little but moan and nod your head while you continue to swallow down your husband, who’s holding back your hair and gently cradling the back of your head while he pumps his hips back and forth into the warm heat of your mouth.

“Say it,” Dave suddenly growls, hand leaving your dripping cunt to slap harshly at your ass again, causing you to jolt slightly forwards and gag and sputter around Marcus.

“Unnghh I love it!” you gasp, loud and breathless as you rip your mouth away from Marcus momentarily. “I love taking all this cock.”

“Yeah, you love being a good little slut for Daddy don’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, I love it so much,” you whine. Your hand that was around Marcus goes back down to the bed to hold yourself upright and your other hand reaches for Dave’s neglected cock, wrapping around the shaft and slowly pumping as you lower your head again to take Marcus back into your mouth. Your moans get louder as you begin to pleasure them both at the same time and Dave seems satisfied for now, his hand back to rubbing and massaging at the globes of your ass and occasionally dipping between your legs to run through your folds and tease at your pussy. Marcus uses his free hand to reach down to fondle your tits that are gently swaying over Dave with your movements.

“Mmmm, please Daddy,” you whine when Dave’s hand pulls away yet again, your mouth popping off of Marcus but continuing to kiss and lick at him between your words.

“One cock not enough for you, huh Sweetheart? You need two? Greedy little slut.” Dave chuckles darkly and you’re not sure if his words and laugh bode well for you or not, but either way, you’re excited.

“Get up,” he says suddenly, landing another sharp smack to your ass that juts you forwards. You hastily scramble up to your knees so you’re no longer caging Dave in and he pushes himself up and out of the bed until he’s standing beside it. He grabs for you then, manhandling you into the position that he wants - you laid out on your back horizontally across the middle of the bed, your head close to him and your legs sprawled out on the opposite side where Marcus is still kneeled.

“Look pretty like this,” he murmurs, gently brushing a single digit across your cheek as you look up at him from your upside down position. You’re a little surprised at the tenderness, actually waiting for the other shoe to drop and it does within seconds when he follows it up with “bet you’d look even hotter with my cock down your throat.”

There it is. You find yourself moaning, writhing slightly against the bed despite having no stimulation other than Dave’s crude words that send a delightful tingle all the way down to your throbbing core.

He huffs a little laugh at your desperation, hand falling away from your cheek as he moves to drop his heavy sac to your face. You quickly oblige him, taking one of his balls into your mouth and gently sucking and moaning around it as he begins to stroke his length with one hand and the other reaches forward to pinch and pull at one of your nipples, causing your back to arch into his touch. He pulls away from you slightly but continues to idly stroke himself just inches above your face.

“Lick her pussy until I tell you to stop” he says, gaze suddenly trained on Marcus who was still waiting patiently at the other side of the bed.

Marcus doesn’t need telling twice. He spreads your legs wide and settles himself between them, still sitting on his knees but leaning downward so he can bury his face in the apex of your thighs. The moment his tongue hits you you’re crying out, hands eagerly reaching down to get lost in his soft hair as he licks and prods at you with the pointed tip of his skilled muscle. Dave observes from his standing position, one hand still firmly gripped around his shaft and the other reaching down to play with your tits. “How does she taste?” he eventually asks and you tilt your head back to look up at him with a gleam in your eye.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” You say boldly, hoping he’ll listen and do just that. Not that you want Marcus to stop, but it’s been a long time since you’ve felt Dave’s tongue on you like that and you’re certainly not opposed to him taking over, even just for a quick taste.

Dave cocks a singular eyebrow at your brazen response, causing you to swallow down the sudden lump that’s formed in your throat.

“Stop,” Dave suddenly barks, directed at Marcus whose head darts up from between your legs almost comically fast at the command. You whine out loud in response, instantly missing the pleasure he’d been giving you and wished you’d just kept your mouth shut. Your mouth opens; to protest, to apologize, you’re not quite sure yet, mind still not made up but you want to say something, anything to get Marcus’ mouth back on you, but before you have a chance to utter a sound Dave’s grip is strong around your jaw, forcing your gaze to look up at him.

“You keep seeming to forget who’s in charge here, Sweetheart,” he begins, free hand going back to lazily stroke his own length. “Is it you?” he asks, and though the question is rhetorical you quickly shake your head back and forth anyway.

“No,” he agrees with you. “What about our sweet boy Marcus down there, hmm?” he forces your head up with the grip around your chin and forces you to look down the bed where Marcus is waiting obediently, sitting back on his heels for Dave’s next instructions. “Is Marcus in charge?” he asks and again you quickly shake your head.

He hums his agreement before finally asking as he tips your head back to look up at him. “Who’s in charge baby? Tell me.”

“Y-you are, Daddy.”

“Mmm, that’s right,” he agrees, sly grin pulling at his lips. “Since your mouth seems to just be getting you into trouble, maybe we put it to better use,” is all the warning you receive before his hand leaves your jaw and he begins feeding you his cock instead. It’s not the best or most comfortable angle. Your head is near hanging off the edge of the bed and Dave has to turn his hips just right to shove himself into your mouth, the head of his cock protruding into the inside of your cheek but you do your best, hollowing your cheeks and attempting to suck. It’s sloppy at best, saliva dribbling out of the side of your mouth as you do your best to please him, reaching up to wrap a hand around the shaft to make up for what your mouth can’t reach. Dave attempts to help you, grabbing at your hair to hold your head up somewhat and then pistoning his hips back and forth so you more or less just need to remain still and work your lips and tongue around him. His eyes squeeze shut after a few seconds and he lets his head fall back, continuing to pump into your mouth and you take it the best you can, moaning around him as he uses you for his own pleasure.

“Oh fuck, good girl,” he praises, eyes still closed and it spurs you on. You manage to lift yourself up slightly on one elbow and turn your head more towards him to get a better angle and are finally able to move your head (albeit, slightly) to bob up and down on him and take him further down your throat. You continue to eagerly suck him off, despite the harsh strain it takes on your neck muscles, for another minute or so until Dave is apparently satisfied and forces you to slow to a stop until he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp for breath, head resting back down on the edge of the mattress before you smile back up at him, undoubtedly a fucked out look in your wild eyes.

“Goddamn cock drunk,” Dave tuts with a little chuckle before he appreciatively taps at your cheek a few times with an open palm. “So much sweeter when your mouth is too full to talk, Baby. Get up, hands and knees. And turn around,” he instructs and you quickly obey, scrambling to turn over and then getting up on all fours and changing directions so now you’re facing Marcus. He smiles fondly at you and reaches a hand out to gently caress your cheek.

You ok? He mouths and you quickly nod, bright smile tugging at your lips and he flashes one of his own at you in return, leaning in to press the quickest of kisses to your lips.

“You love cock so much then prove it,” Dave demands, landing a harsh blow to your asscheek that sends you slightly forward more towards Marcus. You quickly obey, wrapping a hand around Marcus’ length and lowering your head to take him back into your mouth, both of you moaning in unison the moment his leaking tip greets your tongue.

There’s some rustling behind you, you hear Dave moving around and eventually the sound of your nightstand drawer sliding open and then shut again after a few seconds. You’re actually grateful in that moment that the majority of your recent purchases were housed in a Rubbermaid container under your bed because you could only imagine how upset it might make Dave to see how much fun you and Marcus had been up to without him. The only thing in your nightstand in terms of sex toys was a bottle of lube and your trusty vibrator wand and you only have to wonder for a few seconds which one Dave was after until you feel it - the cold thick liquid dropping onto the lowest part of your back and slowly sliding down between your cheeks. You moan around your husband the moment you feel it hit your skin, eager for what Dave has in store for you.

You hear the cap flip shut and Dave tosses the bottle onto the mattress, forgotten for now as he positions himself behind you and puts one hand at the small of your back just above your ass, the other wrapping around his own length to line himself up at the entrance of your cunt.

“Christ!” Dave practically growls the moment he slides into your dripping core with one smooth push of his hips. “This perfect fucking pussy,” he murmurs, mostly to himself as he stills once he’s pushed all the way in to the hilt. “Fuuuuuck, Daddy’s home, hmm?”

And holy fucking hell if that isn’t about the hottest thing you’ve ever heard him say as he’s buried deep inside of you.

“Mmm, fuck, please,” you whine around Marcus, one hand idly reaching backwards for Dave in an attempt to grab onto him, hopefully to force him to move but he only swats your hand away.

“I know baby, I know,” Dave sighs, pulling back just slightly, cock a slow drag against your walls before he slams forward again. His hand on your back slides just low enough that he can stretch his thumb out to reach your puckered hole and smear the lubricant around it before teasingly nudging at the entrance of your ass.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out, mouth leaving Marcus entirely but hand still working his shaft as you crane your neck the best you can to look behind you.

“Keep sucking his cock baby, be a good girl for me hmm?”

You want nothing more than to please him so with a whimper you turn your head back to Marcus and descend on him once more, taking him down your throat with renewed enthusiasm.

“Oh shit, baby, fuck,” Marcus vocalizes, hand coming up to get lost in your hair again. “Slow, slow, slow,” he warns, not wanting this to be over before he gets a chance to fuck you.

“Can’t make him cum yet baby, that’ll ruin all the fun I have in store for you,” Dave taunts, hips still slamming into you at full force and causing you to jolt forward in time with each of his rhythmic thrusts and consequently making you take Marcus further down your throat each time as well.

“Holy shit,” Marcus breathes, gaze focusing on how far his cock disappears down your throat with each push of Dave’s hips. You’re barely participating in the blow job at this point, besides your lips being wrapped around Marcus and moaning, it’s more like Dave is doing all the work while he continues to slam into you and simultaneously tease at your asshole, but neither man seem to be complaining about it and you’re too high on your own pleasure to do anything about it anyway.

After another minute or so Dave starts to slow his movements and his thumb falls away from you only to be immediately replaced by two of his thick fingers instead that instantly breach your tight entrance, sliding easily down to his knuckles and causing you to cry out, ripping your throat off of Marcus momentarily as your back arches and your head tilts backwards.

“There she is,” Dave laughs, fingers working diligently to stretch you open while continuing to rock into you. “Always such a good girl for me, hmmm? Lettin’ me in?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper. You bring one hand up to start stroking Marcus, not wanting him to go unattended but you’re too far gone now to coordinate your mouth anymore and Dave’s cock is barely moving inside you now, just slow drags of his length in and out, his focus on stretching out your asshole with his fingers. You crane your neck again to try and see behind you, Dave is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his entire body glistening and dark hair sticking to his forehead and he looks about as fucked out as you feel. You need to come so fucking badly but it’s like Dave knows that and is holding it just out of your reach as he continues to tease both your entrances.

“God, please,” you whine out, hips attempting to work against Dave’s cock and fingers and he only chuckles from above you, free hand coming to your waist to slow your movements.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready” he explains with another achingly slow drag of his cock against your walls, digits still stretching out your other hole.

“I’m ready, fuck, please!”

His hips still suddenly and and the hand at your hip wraps all the way around the front of your stomach and he pulls you straight up so you’re up on your knees, back to his chest as his voice growls at your ear. “Good, because we’re going to give you exactly what you want, Baby.”

We?

You don’t have a second to ask him what that means before he’s extracting himself from you, cock and fingers slipping away and you whine at the loss as he lets you go and your hands fall back flat on the mattress to keep yourself up, situated back in front of Marcus again. Dave wanders around the bed and you watch as he reaches Marcus, dips his head down and whispers something in his ear that you can’t quite pick up. Marcus’ eyes go wide for a brief second before returning to normal and then Dave backs away.

“On your back, at the top of the bed,” Dave instructs Marcus and he quickly obeys, getting himself situated with his head resting on the pillows at the top of the bed and he pulls you along with him until you’re directly over top of him.

“We can stop anytime” he whispers to you and you give him a strange look because you don’t know what exactly is happening but what you do know is that you trust both these men with your body so it’s not like you’re afraid. If anything, you’re excited. Whatever is happening is likely something new. You waste no time, tilting your head down and capturing Marcus’ lips in a passionate kiss.

“I trust you,” you finally breathe out when you pull back just slightly from his lips. He nods at you and then reaches between your bodies to wrap a hand around his length and guide himself to your entrance, slipping in easily after how worked up you already were. You both moan the moment he enters you, filling you so completely, so perfectly. His hands go to your hips and he gently begins to rock them back and forth from where he lays underneath you. He continues fucking you slow and deep for a minute or so until you feel the weight of the mattress dipping behind you and the unmistakable sound of a bottle cap flip open again followed by Dave’s quiet little grunts, presumably working the lube over his own cock and you swallow the suddenly dry lump in your throat at the realization of what you assume is about to happen.

Holy shit.

You hear the cap flip shut again and suddenly Marcus stills inside of you and Dave’s hands are on your ass, gently massaging and pulling your cheeks apart for a few moments until he’s repositioning himself again, getting closer and then you feel it, the head of his cock bumping into your ass. It just sits there though, the tip brushing against your right cheek and you can’t help the way your body momentarily tenses, but you steel yourself for a moment and then let out a long breath and feel your muscles relax.

“You love cock so much baby, we’re gonna give you all that you can handle,” Dave explains and you swallow the lump in your throat, a fantasy that you’ve had for a long while now finally coming true. A fantasy you hadn’t even shared with Marcus yet, and eventually you thought it was one that would never be played out as you thought that Dave was gone from your lives for good.

“Colour?” Dave asks, one hand massaging the left cheek.

“Green. Fuck, I just….” you trail off and Dave patiently waits, just as Marcus is still unmoving inside of you, waiting for you to tell them to move.

“We don’t have to…” Dave starts but you’re quick to cut him off before he can move off of you.

“No, I want to, just… start slow.”

“You’re sure?” Dave asks again and this time his hand leaves your ass to gently grip at your hip.

“I’m sure, fuck, I want it so bad.”

“That’s our good girl,” Dave praises and then you feel it, he brings his cock to nudge at your asshole and slowly, inch by inch, presses his way inside until he’s buried as far as he can go and you cry out, back arching and breathing coming out in heavy pants.

“Holy fuck! Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck” you chant, trying to get used to the overwhelming sensations of being so full; Marcus buried in your pussy and Dave in your ass.

“Christ,” Dave chokes out next, hand squeezing at your hips as he tries to will himself not to move. “Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he manages through laboured breaths, one hand coming up to gently rub at your back while the other remains at your hip.

You lean down and kiss Marcus, hard. You need a few seconds to acclimate yourself and Marcus grounds you instantly, tongue clashing with yours and swallowing all your little moans until you finally feel yourself begin to settle and you eventually pull away, breathless. Dave’s hand soothes your lower back again and when you hear him ask if you’re ready you gently nod your head, take a breath and say “I’m ready.”

“Nice and slow,” Dave directs and you’re not sure who he’s talking to, maybe all three of you, but then both his hands go to your hips and he gently starts moving you back and forth. Each forward push of your hips sinks Marcus further inside of you and each time he pulls you back you slide halfway off of Marcus but deeper onto Dave and you’re freely moaning, already feeling completely fucked out, full and overwhelmed, despite having just started. Soon Dave’s hands stop controlling your movements and he relinquishes the reins to you, letting you set the pace and momentum of what feels good for you and you do manage, for a couple minutes or so until you’re too blissed out to even function, let alone coordinate your movements.

“Ok baby, we got you,” Dave soothes, hands back at your hips as he notices your movements faltering.

“Fuck,” you cry out, lowering your head until your face is buried in Marcus’ throat. “God, fuck, me please,” you whine, already so close on the verge of what is undoubtedly going to be an earth-shattering orgasm.

Marcus moves his head slightly to press his lips to your temple and then begins to move from underneath you, fucking up into you from the mattress while Dave also starts to move from behind and soon they’re fucking you in perfect tandem and you’re practically screaming with how good they’re making you feel. Neither of them are faring much better, either. Marcus’ eyes are clamped shut and his hair is drenched, sticking to his forehead as he pumps into you from below, covered in sweat and his breathing laboured while he moans and mumbles out incoherent obscenities, trying his best to hold on as long as possible. Dave is grunting over and over from behind you, his grip on your hips so tight you feel his fingers digging into your sides and you know they’ll be bruised tomorrow. It’s not long before you’re coming, long and hard and squeezing both of them so tight they’re cursing and moaning as they do their best to fuck you through it.

“Shit, I’m, oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” Marcus warns, pumping into you a dozen or more times before he stills deep inside of you and lets out a guttural growl, painting your insides.

“Oh my god,” he whines, slowly rocking in and out of you now, just wanting to keep feeling you for as long as possible. You hear Dave groan from behind you, breaths coming out in short huffs as he keeps up his steady pace.

“Don’t stop, please, oh fuck!” you cry out, despite feeling utterly wrecked you don’t want either of them to leave you, not yet. Not when they feel this fucking good.

“You want my cum in this tight fucking asshole, hmm? Wanna be dripping with us for days from both your needy little holes?” Dave asks, voice practically a low growl as he does his best to contain himself, starting to slam into you harder and faster.

“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please!”

Dave’s new momentum combined with Marcus’ spent and softening cock causes your husband to slip out of you but remain nestled perfectly against your clit and you’re crying out again as Dave continues to rut into you like a man possessed. He’s panting and groaning, fingers like vices at your hips as he slams harder and harder, over and over and over again until he comes with a loud groan, ropes of his warm spend spilling inside of you while he slows to gentle thrusts for a few long, drawn out moments until he’s forced to pull out and uses whatever was left of his energy to not collapse on top of you but instead turn to the side and flop down on his back next to you and Marcus.

“Oh my god,” you’re nearly in tears at how fucking phenomenal you feel after that, definitely the fuck of a lifetime, you declare inwardly. Your left arm digs underneath Marcus so you can hold him and the other reaches out for Dave, attempting to tug him closer. He lets out a little huff of exhausted laughter but then rolls slightly until he’s on his side, pressing right into the two of you.

“That was fucking incredible,” you say eventually, breaking through the sound of heavy breathing from your recovering bedmates.

You turn your head towards Dave and press a kiss to his lips before turning back and offering another to Marcus and then just let your head fall, nuzzling into Marcus’ chest. After a few moments pass you feel Dave’s arm drape across your back and rub gentle soothing circles at your hip.

“You did so good,” he eventually manages and you let out a little laugh at that. “You too,” he says next, and when his hand leaves your side and you hear a soft little smack, you smile, realizing he’s talking to Marcus who he’s just swatted on the leg. Marcus lets out a little laugh followed by a groan as he regretfully moves out from under you, leaving you mostly where you are so that you’re in the middle between them while he slides over to the left.

“That was… Shit, I didn’t know it could feel like that,” Marcus confesses, speaking up towards the ceiling and not to either of you in particular. “Never done that before,” he laughs, his tone suggesting that his confession is obvious. It of course goes without saying that you haven’t either, and both men know this as they know that Dave was your first, and so far only, back there.

“Fuck, me either,” Dave admits and honestly it surprises you, but you don’t say anything. Everything feels so raw and vulnerable right now and the last thing you want to do is scare him off again by trying to make more of the situation so instead you just let out a little hum of satisfaction and turn on your side towards Dave who rolls to his back to get more comfortable. You snuggle into him and press a kiss into his shoulder, whispering a quiet “stay,” into the warmth of his flesh and just hoping he doesn’t fight you on it, you don’t think you could take that right now.

“Couldn’t move if I tried,” he laughs in return.

Your whole body deflates with a relieved sigh and your head moves to rest on his chest, hand draping across his middle and giving a quick squeeze. He lets out another chuckle and turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your forehead. “Go to sleep,” he murmurs and you nod, your eyes already threatening to close at any second. You feel Marcus shift behind you, on his side now and pressing into your back, hand on your side and slowly smoothing up and down, lulling you into a peaceful sleep even faster. Within minutes everyone’s breathing evens out and three once racing hearts now share the same low, steady rhythm.

The only thing left to worry about now is if Dave will still be here when you wake up.

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

#pedro pascal cinematic universe #dave york #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Marcus pike #dave york x marcus pike x reader #dave york smut #marcus pike smut #dave york x reader #marcus pike x reader #ppcu fanfiction

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