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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months

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Bumping Beach Bikini - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 0.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Pregnancy; References to Sex/Suggestive Jokes; Flirting; Use of Second Person POV “You,” No Physical Description of Reader (Minus Pregnancy), No Y/N

Summary: Rooster admires the view of his pregnant wife on the beach.

Master List

Bradley had a mental list of the best outfits that he had ever seen you in. There wasn’t a set ranking, just general levels of appreciation.

There was a step above your normal beauty and allure, which mostly included random casual outfits that for whatever reason just got him going. Like the yellow sundress that you wore when it was exceptionally hot out that was super easy to slide his hands under. Or those jean shorts that he loved to slip his hand into the back pocket and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. Or anything of his that you chose to wear.

And the step above those were your slightly dressier outfits that got him even more excited. The backless black dress that you wore out in Vegas when the two of you went out with the Dagger Squad. Or the blue floor length dress that you wore to Maverick and Penny’s wedding that looked like it was literally sculpted for you and your figure. Though he did rip the zipper on that one.

Then there were the more special outfits. Your wedding dress mostly, since he literally burst out into tears the second that he saw you step out in it. The photo of you that he kept in his cockpit was from your wedding day with your veil spread out around you, giving you a completely angelic appearance. And, well, Rooster was also very fond of the matching white lingerie set that you wore underneath it that night too. He did rip that one too though.

And at the very top of the pyramid of his favorite outfits was, of course, your birthday suit. Nothing would ever top that one.

But seeing you in a maternity bikini with one of his Hawaiian shirts wrapped around your shoulders and your baby bump sticking out from between the folds of his shirt—now that was a sight that he ingrained into his mind for the rest of his life. That one really challenged your birthday suit in his mind.

“What?” you laughed, shooting your husband a look as you applied more sunscreen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re glowing,” Bradley praised, still taking in your beauty.

“With sweat,” you giggled, rubbing in another layer of sunscreen. “It’s only spring and I swear I’m melting already.” You set down the tube of sunscreen and shot your husband a playful look. “You just had to make sure that I was heavily pregnant during the hottest months of the year in Southern California, didn’t you, Bradshaw?”

“Maybe you should have done the math before you begged me to get you pregnant,” Bradley replied, a bit smugly.

“I don’t beg,” you scoffed, shooting him a look. “And besides you offered about fifty times before I let you. If anyone was begging, it was you, Bradley.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rooster mused, smiling over at you.

There was one rule to surviving with a heavily pregnant wife—it was to let you win. On just about everything. Anything health or safety wise, he would argue back, but Rooster took a rain check on all of the little things. And frankly he got more satisfaction out of seeing you happy than being right.

“Do you have enough water?” Rooster asked, sitting up some more.

You reached over and lifted your giant water bottle into the air. Taking a long sip from it just to prove your point to your husband, you set your water bottle back down on the sand.

“I’m fine. Just need some time to relax,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Before it all really sets in.”

Reaching down to pick up your ankle, Rooster started to massage your foot, earning a sigh of relief from your lips. Practically melting into your chair, you turned to your husband with a small, thankful smile as you curled your toes a bit.

“I could get used to this.”

“I’m sure you could,” Rooster chuckled, rubbing the back of your calf.

“There’s only one thing that would make this better.”

“What?”

“Take your shirt off.”

“Mrs. Bradshaw,” Rooster jokingly admonished, causing you to smile wider. “Be careful suggesting that. I knocked up the last woman who asked me to take my shirt off in that tone.”

“I’ll take the risk,” you replied with a smile, rubbing your bump slowly.

“So long as you understand the risk,” Rooster returned with a wink.

“Jesus Christ, the rest of us are trying to eat here,” Phoenix cut in, sounding annoyed.

You and Rooster turned to the other Daggers, Maverick, and Penny, who was hiding an amused smile behind her hand. Maverick turned to Penny with a similar expression, shaking his head. But most of the other Daggers, those who were single anyways, shot both you and Rooster somewhat disgusted looks.

“Sorry,” you called sheepishly, waving to them.

“I’m not,” Rooster replied, reaching up to take his shirt off.

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

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DC X DP fic idea: Phantom's number 1 fan

Danny is used to his classmates cheering for him. Well, he's used to them cheering on his ghost side, but it's the same thing.

He's a small time celebrity in the eyes of Amity Park youth. Almost everyone as Casper High adores Phantom- even the A-listers.

Ironically enough, the A-listers are some of the few who claim to be in love with Phantom. Even Dash, after the quarter back publicly came out.

Almost all of them still pick on Danny, even now as seniors. He never quite fit in even after all these years. Still pushed into lockers, mocked by classmates and deemed the number one loser again and again.

He stopped trying to fit in years ago when he became a halfa and focused on being a hero. He's gotten better now, as ghosts are less likely to challenge him. Apparently, being able to beat Pariah Dark in single combat spooked many spirits.

He instead focuses on worldwide natural disasters. With the new power to create portals to the Ghost zone as a shortcut to any part of the world, he could jump to emergencies as simplyas walking through a door.

He took some field medic lessons from Frost Bite and was on his way.

He started with search and rescue during a Tsunami. Then earthquakes, tornadoes, and even lightning storms. His parents knew and were proud of him every time Phantom appear on TV. His friends encouraged him to pressure a medical career. Danny was seriously considering it.

No one besides those he loved knew he and Phantom were one in the same.

Life was good.

That is until one stormy night when Tim Drake came knocking. The other 17-year-old stood on his porch drenched to his socks, clutching a really well taken photot of Phantom and a manic glint in his eye.

"Can I have your autograph, Danny? Im your number one fan!"

Before Danny could even think of a response, Drake tilted forward, smacking face first on the ground.

If you were to ask Tim what was he thinking ge would say " I wasn't"

See, Tim had been one of the first Phantom rescued from the giant Tsunami that Riddler had unleashed on Gotham all those years ago. His heart had been the ghost ever since. And much like all other puzzles and mysteries, it didn't take Tim long to connect Phantom and Fenton.

Seeing as Danny Fenton wanted nothing to do with the Justice League or to join any other hero team he left him alone, admiring him from afar.

Then the mission Ra al Gul happened.

He had been running on fumes, and in Tim's sleep-deprived mind, the thought of stopping in Amity Park on the way back from a mission to ask for his long-time hero and crushes autograph was the perfect idea.

So he landed the batplane, switched in civilians and knocked on the door with his heart in his hand. And the three stab wounds on his back, his broken rib and black eye.

Thankfully Danny was willing to drag him inside for medical aid.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #dead tired #Phantoms number 1 fan.#fanboy Tim Drake #Danny is a search and Rescue hero

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radiance1 · 6 months

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The League tried to interrupt a summoning of a powerful being from the Infinite Realms. From the information they collected, the being isn't of the status of a royalty, but they still had to be careful as the being the summoners tried to call forth was still of noble status.

They failed.

The head cultist finished the ritual, the last words to finish the summoning left their tongue and the room was suddenly doused in heat, as black flame came to life from within the circle, twisting and turning, back and forth until a pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from inside the twisting pillar of flame and just as suddenly as the eyes appeared, was the pillar broken apart.

What was left behind was the figure of a giant phoenix, wings spread as embers black as night gently fell down to the floor below and suddenly disappearing, as if they were never there in the first place.

"Who dares to disturb-" The being started, eyes scanning the crowd below before stilling, extremely and worryingly quiet. One of them quietly cursed. "Constantine..." The creature's voice was low, dangerously low, no doubt anger in its voice as it called out the Warlock's name.

Everyone tensed, expecting something dangerous, except for the cultists, and the Head, who turned his head towards them and smiled, obviously expecting them to be reduced to not even ash.

"100 years. One. Hundred. Years." The being spoke, and confusion wormed its way into the hearts of all those present. "100 years I have waited for you, and when we finally meet once again it's not even you summoned me but these-" The creature waved a wing at the cultist below. "-These fatuous and vacuous little things."

"And what is this? You surrounded yourself with those not even of human birth before you have even thought about me?" The noble's eyes narrowed. "Did our relationship mean nothing to you?

Someone, probably not Constantine, choked.

"Well then, after all of this time you can at least make yourself useful." In a flash of black fire, Constantine was brought from within the ranks of heroes and in front of the beast, a man who seemed to be trying to-and unsuccessfully- lighting a smoke. "Ah, why do that when you have me?" The being purred, bending down to apparently light a smoke before freezing, as if remembering what exactly it was doing, but the action was already done, and Constantine was killing his lungs away.

The phoenix snapped back up to standing above everyone else, clearing its throat as if what happened decidedly didn't happen.

"What exactly did you want me to be useful for, love?" Constantine asked, expelling the smoke from his lungs and deciding that this might as well be happening. The noble huffed, folding its wings at its sides as it stared down at its apparent lover. "Take care of our son for once in your sad, pathetic life."

This time, not only did Constantine choke, but a good chunk of people there did as well. Constantine ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the phoenix incredulously. "Aren't we both men?"

The phoenix looked at his lover as if he were stupid. "Your point?"

"I-" Constantine sighed, took a breath, held, then expelled more smoke from his lungs. Apparently, he decided not to question anything anymore. "You know what? Sure, where is the little bugger?"

Over the next few moments, both the Justice League and Cultists were treated to the noble transforming into a human (still having wings) and handing over their apparent child-who looked nothing like them by being a dragon, but who were they to question the apparent reproduction of a being from the Infinite Realms- and being lectured about what not to do and what to do and how he should be cared for.

Also, a warning for his many powers.

Then the Duke stole a kiss (One that he claimed was long overdue) and left.

The room was silent, only the sounds of breathing occupying the room as the temperature was brought back down to normal levels.

A moment later, Batman walked up to the nearby cultist and punched him across the face and knocking him out cold, suddenly reminding everyone what exactly they were here for.

A while later, in the meeting room, everyone looked at Constantine. Who had a baby eastern dragon wrapped around one arm (who was apparently his child) and rubbing his temple with the other.

"I can't explain this."

===

Danny was actually not Constantine kid, neither was he Vlad's. Biologically, at the very least, however. Vlad did adopt both him and Jasmine a while back after their whole parent fiasco.

They're dead, sadly unable to become ghosts, or perhaps not so sadly.

Of course, they unfortunately outlived Jasmine, which was to be expected, but Vlad and Danny did grow close enough that they no longer viewed each other as enemies.

However, who could have expected that Danny, finally ascending to his princely status, would turn him back into a literal child because he was, for all intents and purposes, one by Dragon standards.

Utter malarkey, he would say.

Taking care of that boy was the worst few memories he has ever had. He was constantly being kept from his sleep, his work being interrupted constantly, and the child managed to find a way to leave his sight at each and every turn.

But there were some sweet moments, he would say.

It's only reasonable, however, that his lover (who he hasn't seen for an entire century might he add) share the workload.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #I don't know how to write John Constantine #But I probably can't do worse then the current writers of DC or Marvel.#Probably.#Anyways.#shitpost #At least I think this is a shitpost #Idk #Or maybe its a #crack fic #crackship #But I thought of this and I find it funny so you all shall be cursed with this

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luvelve · 8 months

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husband!mingyu who secretly knows that one of your weaknesses is seeing the band of his underwear whenever he stretches. something about seeing CALVIN KLEIN in all bold letters whenever the giant man stretches his limbs. hanging just below his torso, let it be red, black, grey, or just the classic white calvins, it’d be sure to make your stomach flutter.

how else could he have picked up on this not so little obsession of yours when every time his underwear peaks, your cheeks turn a bright pink hue and suddenly you forget what mingyu was talking about just then.

“though we could get 2 vacuums instead, one for upstairs and one for downstairs.” mingyu says after your mind has somehow turned 7 innocent seconds of him stretching into a short calvin klein montage with some flirty doja cat song playing in the background.

“that’d be smarter and easier for us, right?” he adds, fixing the folds of his shirt. you’re now completely unaware that your mouth is hanging slightly open and that your cheeks are now the same color as mingyu’s favorite pink hoodie.

“yeah, uh huh.” you nod your head absentmindedly, now finally shifting your gaze at your husband’s face. this doesn’t go unnoticed by him though.

“okay, so what did i just say, my love?” his tone playful, deciding whether or not he should tell you that he knows why you’re all flushed right now. he turns his body on the couch so he can fully face you.

he scans your face and he recognizes that look on your face. it’s the same flushed look you had when mingyu first kissed you outside your apartment. the same look when he showed up with flowers and your favorite chinese takeout on a random tuesday. the same look when he brought you to his parents’ house and accidentally said he wants to marry you.

after being married to each other for almost 3 years, mingyu finds it endearing that he’s still able to leave you all flustered. whether it be stopping in his tracks to tie your laces, to removing the strand of hair on your face, and even flashing the band of his underwear apparently.

“uh, we’re getting a new vacuum… and we can get those dyson? ones that you’ve been telling me about.” you shoot him a sheepish smile and it takes everything in him to not kiss you right now.

he pauses and flashes you his signature smile. his canines poking out at the side.

“what?” you say, giggling at the giant teddy bear that is smiling at you for a reason unknown to you.

“baby, i know.” he huffs, closing the tiny gap in between the two of you.

“know what?” you reply, raising an eyebrow at him.

being the gentle giant that your husband is, he wants to lay it to you gently so as not to totally embarrass you, but he’s afraid it’s gonna happen either way.

“my love, i know that whenever i stretch, like when i put my hands up like this and my tummy shows? and so does my underwear? baby, i catch you staring.” he trails off after demonstrating to you and he starts giggling and snakes his arms around your waist. your faces are now practically centimeters from each other. there’s only love and adoration in mingyu’s eyes.

“you-what do you? no, i don’t. babe, i don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you bite your lip in attempts to hide the giant smile that’s about to form on your face.

all mingyu can do is laugh and bury his face into the crook of your neck. meanwhile, your insides are burning from the embarrassment that your husband knows your little secret and your cheeks are turning bright red this time around.

“my love, its okay. so what if you find my underwear hot? i mean i find a lot of things about you hot. like when you pump gas into our car. hot. when your hair’s wet and you wrap it in a towel and you take it out from the towel? hot. oh, when you wear my shirts and hoodies. well that’s more of cute, but you get the point. babe, i could go on and on, you know.” he continues to rub circles onto your waist where his hands are resting.

you’re reminded of how loving and gentle your husband is because only he could rub away the embarrassment of finding his briefs hot.

“how long have you known?” you whisper, the bright red stain on your cheeks fading away. holding his chin between your thumb and index finger.

“i don’t know, i guess when we were having lunch this one time at that fancy place near us. that was the first time i caught you. so maybe a month ago?” his gaze is soft with a hint of playfulness.

“well, there goes my secret, i guess.” a pout forms on your face and all mingyu can do is lean in for a kiss. it’s not rushed, it’s the kind that says i love you. you can feel yourself melt into him as he takes one hand from your waist and places it onto your cheek. both of your arms wrap around his neck to pull him even closer than he was before.

“doesn’t mean i’m gonna stop doing it though.” you break away from the kiss momentarily to say to him. you shoot him a naughty look that he’s all too familiar with.

“that’s my girl.” he replies, leaning in for another kiss.

so this was completely self indulgent, and the first thing i’ve written. this was supposed to be like a 200 word blurb MAX but i got carried away :<

anyways, please enjoy <3

#kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen #svt #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt x y/n #mingyu imagines #svt imagines #svt au #mingyu au #mingyu scenarios #luvelve’s

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harrysmimi · 11 months

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Cuddly Mood

Synopsis: One where Harry comes home from work to his girl being clingy. He ain't complaining.

More of my work

Harry had told his girl to not wait for him for dinner as he would be late, and that she should to go to bed. Basically not wait up for him as he got work.

He was working late at night on some new music. Not essentially planning to write a whole new album just yet, he just wanted to het these new out and into production and see how things go from there for him and his new future projects.

YN understood where he came from. She's an artist too after all. She sometimes want to spend all day and night, in her studio painting and work on this one piece of art which would not budge off her head until it was out. She's had those days and Harry's always been respectful and supportive of her.

But she wanted to be selfish today and hold him back and cuddle him all day. Well, she could barely bring herself to do that because he was so excited about this new song he had in his mind. Or melody? Or a rhythm? Or a beat? She doesn't quite know how music works.

This afternoon Harry got ready to leave for studio after he'd returned from gym, all showered up and dressed up. He wore a pair black washed jeans a simple white tshirt, which she likes to steal from him some times. He took a hoodie with him incase he's cold, which he always is at the studio.

He's been going to gym religiously now, so he's been more muscley and big, he's still his shy self which makes him like her giant human cuddle bear. Especially with his instincts of him wanting to hold her and make her feel safe. Oh boy, did that make her all mushy!

She just wanted cling on him all day and take a big fat nap. But she had to let him go for few hours.

But she still deserves his undivided attention, especially when he's back from a long tour and will be going back very soon.

She's a night owl, Harry knows it. So when he came back home to her place, he found her dusting her furniture around. She's like her cat, who likes to zoom around at three in the morning.

And it was three in the morning when he came back!

"Hi, angel!" He chirps as he locked the door behind him. "What are you doing up so late baby?" Dropping his stuff on the sofa he walked upto her, snaking his arms around her tummy he pulled her close to him, placing a chaste of kisses on her neck and back of her head. She melted in his embrace.

Exactly what she craved all day!

"I'm not sleepy." She mumbled.

"You need to fix that sleep schedule of yours, angel, it's not healthy." He expressed his concerns, "no coffee for you after three in the afternoon!"

"Hey!" She whined.

"Yes!" He argued back. "You wanna go to bed now?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

Harry was changing out of his clothes. He took off his hoodie and shirt, and got rid of his pants.

On rare nights his boxers and basketball shorts stayed on and today was one of them. His girl doesn't mind, there is nothing she haven't seen. He doesn't feel insecure around her anymore and does she, which is amazing!

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I have your hoodie?" She asked.

"Yeah, which one do you want baby?" He asked, changing into a different pair of boxers.

"The one you wore today?"

"Aren't you going to be hot, angel?" He enquired, because it was getting warmer and he doesn't want her to layer up.

"No, I'll just wear that and nothing underneath." She explained.

"You sure about that?" He asked, just to be sure.

"Mhmm."

"Alright strip down!" Harry smirked cheekily. He was all done dressing half decent, he took two strads towards where she was stood in the bathroom, applying her moisturiser.

Her sleep shirt caught onto her earrings as she was taking it off. "Ouch!"

"Be careful there!" He stepped in and carefully untangled the shirt from her earring. "You okay?"

"Yeah!" She nodded. Harry smiled and carefully pulled the neckhole of his hoodie (which is now both of theirs to share!) over her head, before his hands travelled behind her back to unhook her bra. He slipped his off but not before taking the opportunity to have a quick feel of her breasts, run his hands over her delicious tummy rolls towards her hips. "Stop it tickles!"

"Yeah?" He teased her, tickling her more under her breasts.

"Stop!" She laughed holding onto his wrists tightly. He stopped and helped her put her arms through the sleeves.

"My favourite!" He commented on her wearing her "cute set" of underwear, which were a pair of pastel green granny panties with french fries on them.

They're adorable okay!

"Stop tickling me, I've missed you enough all day!" She pouted feeling his hands wander down to her bum, trying his best to tickle her.

He gasped, "I need to make up for it, don't I?" With that he threw her over his shoulder as he brought her back out to their room and carefully placed her on their shared bed. "Why didn't you call me then if you missed me so much?"

"I did not felt like wanting to disturb you while you worked." She explained as he peppered her face with sloppy and wet kisses.

"You can never disturb me!" He exclaimed quietly, "could have worked on that song later. Next time just tell me, okay? I'd prefer to spend time with you!"

"Mhmm! I will." She agreed, "now kiss me?"

"Gladly!" With that he placed his mouth on hers, giving her a tender kiss. "I've missed you too today! Wrote a song about you and us."

"You did?" She was so surprised even though he tells her when a song is inspired by her. It still manages to surprise her, thinking she can be a muse to someone's art when it's always been the other way around for her. He always finds new things about to sing in his songs.

Where as he's always been muse of her art!

"Yeah, wrote about how much I love you, and how I wanna be with you for as long as you want me!"

"I want you forever!"

"Forever, yeah?" He rested his forehead on hers.

The next few minutes he spent talking about the song and loving on her until she fell asleep, snuggled close to his bare chest.

He'd never enjoyed being a big spoon in his life!

......................................................................

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @tenaciousperfectionunknown @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @harrysgirl-1d @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @moonys-star @blackbookwhore @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @novalunosising @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @dear-mylove @sofia-faustina

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justaaveragereader · 7 months

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10.01 | Frankensteins Monster

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Monster Fucking, Stomach Bulge, Electrostimulation, Size Difference, Man Handling, Unprotected Sex (Wrap It Up), Nipple Play, Clothes Ripping, Oral (F Receiving), Soft Boy Monster Jongho, Spanking, If I Missed Anything Let Me Know 👀..

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT ~ MDNI🔞!!!

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want too, Jongho.” You whisper out as quietly as possible.

“Yes he does! I need to know if it is properly working. And what better way to find out then you my sweet.” Dr. Frankenstein says through a pout while squishing your cheeks.

You bat his hands away from your face, rubbing Jonghos shoulder, trying to give him as much comfort as possible. It was his first time having sex as well…a monster. Dr. Stein felt it was best to run a test on his own creation to see if it was possible. The test? Seeing if the penis he had attached to Jongho could function normally. Hell, it better had worked well, it’s not like Dr. Stein sent you to a cemetery to dig up endless male bodies to decipher which penis would work best.

Jongho was 7 feet tall, 250 pounds of lean muscle, with the most off white blue skin you had seen. Both eyes were two different shades of brown, border lining black, big metal bolts stuck out each side of his neck, he had stitches covering various parts of his body, as none of those pieces belonged to his original body. Visually a terrifying monster to most people, but to you he was the softest thing that rolled off a metal table. Despite not knowing his own strength you had grown to like Jongho. Wanting his monster to “adapt” to what it’s like to be a real human, he decided why not start with a penis. Why? Dr. Stein didn’t even brief you with an answer on it.

“I just want you to fill out this clipboard when you are finished y/n. Tell me how it goes.” Dr. Stein shoved a clipboard with various pages attached to it, some pages had his own scribbled notes on them.

“Wait! You want us to do it..here?” You whispered loudly to Dr. Stein, while Jongho couldn’t speak, a couple grunts here, a couple grunts there. He wasn’t very verbal. Dr. Stein was still in the process of trying to tweak his vocal chords. While he couldn’t speak he was very smart, whatever he lacked in vocals, he made up for it with knowledge, he was highly intelligent.

“This isn’t romantic sex Y/n. This is for science! I will give you both some privacy.” Dr. Stein wiggled his eyebrows at Jongho giving him a firm grasp on his shoulder. Leaving you down in his work area, with a clipboard in your sweaty palms. Your eyes are shooting everywhere, refusing to look at Jongho.

Letting out a small grunt, your eyes lift over to Jongho. Who is slightly smiling while looking at you, his hands flat against the metal slab, dwarfing the piece of metal. You walk closer to him, your hand gripping the clipboard for dear life. You stand between his giant legs. Fiddling with the pen located at the top of the clipboard. Jongho never intimidated you because while he was a monster, who truly didn’t know his own strength. He was always gentle with you, he made you feel like he couldn’t even harm a fly.

“We really don’t have to do this, Jongho. You get a choice too..” you whisper out quietly. Still avoiding eye contact. He slowly raises his hand, grabbing the clipboard out of your hands. Placing it down next to him. Standing up, his body easily towers over yours. Jongho could make anyone feel small. Letting out a small grunt, he places a cold finger under your chin, tilting your head up so you could look at him. Your body is littered with goosebumps. For a man of few words he definitely knew what he was doing, that part of his brain definitely was intact. Your hands are tight in fists, nerves wracking your whole body. You don’t know if you were excited or full of nervousness. You’d be lying though if you said that the height difference between you both didn’t make your lower stomach tight.

Flashing you his signature gummy smile he grabs one of your hands that is tightly wrapped in a fist, causing your body to immediately relax at his cold touch. He steps closer to you, cocking your head back as far as it could do, the look in his different colored eyes is telling another story. You feel his hard cock crush against your belly. While you dug up the bodies you didn’t help Dr. Stein pick out the body part. Too exhausted from the hard labor you had done but boy oh boy did Dr. Stein pick out a thick one. Why would you expect anything less though? Dr. Stein only strived for the best.

You let out a small gasp at feeling his hardened length against your stomach. His giant hand that dwarfed yours, moves your fist down to his cock, making you feel how hard he actually was. You relaxed your hand, letting your fingers dance along his length, by the first brush of your fingers he jerks his body back slightly. The feeling of your hand on him was enough to make him prematurely cum. Letting out a small breathy grunt, he grabs your hand signaling you to stop touching him. Placing one hand on your waist he turns you around, pushing you down so you’re sitting on the metal slab. Now that you are seated you finally take in the true size difference between the both of you. He was going to break you in half.

You lay back on your arms, parting your legs so Jongho can fit further between them. Taking the invite he stands between your legs, cold fingers running over the swell of your breasts. You shiver slightly at his cold hands. His other hand coming up under your shirt, cold fingertips brushing against your warm skin. Letting out a small groan at the warmth radiating from you. His lips part as his hands travel further and further up your shirt til they meet the bottom of your bra. What he thinks is a small tug on the bra results in him lifting you slightly off the metal slab, your head bumping into his stomach. Huffing and puffing at the contraption that’s holding your chest. Instead of helping him you are too dazed in the way he is manhandling your body.

Like you truly are nothing but a piece of paper to him. Gripping the neck line he rips your shirt right in half, causing you to let out a small chuckle, your hands coming up to run along the chiseled abs underneath his shirt that looks like it’s made out of rags. Your warm hands on his cool skin causes him to buck into you, a loud grunt slipping out his mouth, his hard cock pressed directly into your stomach. Grabbing both sides of your bra he rips it off of your body, your breast falling free. His hand immediately gripping one of your warm breasts causing you to let out a small yelp at the temperature difference. He was addicted to your heat like a moth to a flame.

“Please Jongho…” you whine. Your thighs are trying to rub together but his big body is in the way.

Running his hands through his dark brown locks on his head, his cold hand brushing against the bolt on the side of his neck. Bringing his hand down to brush over your other breast while he still has a grip on the other, his cool hand making your nipple pebble. As his other hand comes down to brush against your other nipple it sends a small shock to your nipple, causing you to let out a loud moan, your bud instantly perking up. Your body jerks slightly against him, making his hard cock dig further into your stomach. You feel it twitch, his cock surely worked.

“Again..” you whimper out pathetically. Jongho was far from dumb, he knew that brushing his hand against his bolt would send a current through him, as he was dead he couldn’t feel it. As to where a warm blooded, pumping heart body would feel the current. Bringing a finger up to his bolted neck he gives it a light tap before pinching your hardened nipple in between his giant fingers, another shock is sent to your nipple causing your back to arch off the cool metal slab once more.

“Jongho!” You yelp out, lifting his other hand off of you he touches the other bolt, bringing it down to your other nipple, sending it a small shock making it pebble up even harder. Your eyes rolling back at the spark. Your hand shoots out to grab his humongous thigh. Nails digging into the material of his pants. Your breathing becomes heavier, eyes growing hooded. With just a couple touches Jongho already has you wrapped around his thick fingers.

Letting out a sound that is very similar to a cocky laugh, he grunts, stepping back so he can pull off the pants you are wearing. You could help him take them off so he doesn’t rip them, but that would take the fun away. Wasting no time he grips the hem of your pants, ripping them clean off your body, his cold hands instantly finding your skin. Running his hands all over your lower body, finding home between the meat of your very warm thighs. Making both of your legs straighten against him, your feet weren’t even close to his head, they landed just under his pecs.

His cold finger runs along your clothed clit, oh he for sure was experienced. That part of his brain was clearly working. His cool finger pushing on the fabric causes it to sandwich between your wet lips, causing you to let out a small whimper. His eyes shooting up at you with the biggest shit eating grin you think you’ve ever seen. His hand brushes against the bolt, bringing his electric charged hand to your cunt. The shock causes your legs to buckle, yet due to his strong grip on your legs, they barely move an inch. Your wet panties cause the shock to be felt all over your wet cunt, the pulsing feeling making your head spin. His thumb brushes his bolt, placing the pad of it directly on your clothes clit, sending the small zap directly to your clit.

Your eyes instantly roll back, your mouth hangs open with no noise coming out. The feeling is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Your skin is buzzing, your body hairs now standing, while your body is littered with goosebumps. Letting your legs go with his other hand, he slowly places them down so your small legs are hanging on each side of him, opening you up more to him, your body in a full spread eagle position. Gripping the crotch area of your panties he rips them off of your body. The cold air causes your goosebumps to stand even more.

Your wet pussy on full display for him, you looked like you walked off a magazine to him. His brain is short circuiting, you can tell from the sparks that are flying off of the bolts that are pierced on each side of his neck. His cock twitches as the fluorescent lights shine off of your slick that’s covering your cunt. Clearly in a daze, you run your foot under his rag like shirt, the warm sole of your foot on his cold chest, wakens him slightly. Spark from the bolts still flying rapidly but his eyes drift up to your face. A warm smile on your pretty face.

“Hey big boy…are you still with me?” You whisper, a warm smile that warms his cold dead body. Letting out a small grunt, he nods his head. Giant hand gripping his cock to relieve some of the pent up frustration he lets out a deep growl. A noise you’ve never heard him make, it sounds border lining primal. You can clearly see the wet patch from his cock, what exactly liquid that is? You aren’t too sure, yet you don’t seem to care. Licking your lips, you nudge Jongho with your foot.

“Come on Jjong…fuck me please.” You plead to him. The sparks now shoot farther from his body. That nickname always made him feel something. You were working him up on purpose. His hand fully grips the bolt on his neck, sticking out his tongue he touches it, sending an electric charge through it. Confused by his sudden movements, you sit up on your arms, watching him as he falls to his knees. Big shoulders cause your legs to spread even further. What was he..?

“Oh my fucking goddddd!” You instantly moan out, his electric charged tongue was pressed directly against your wet cunt. The shock goes instantly to your clit, but the waves of the current spread out to your whole cunt, making you clench around nothing. Your hands gripping the soft brown locks on his head. Touching his bolt again, he makes direct contact with your clit, the shock sending your head spiraling back, choking out a sob. Tears of pleasure fill your eyes, his other hand grips your breast, pinching your nipple. Between him constantly electric charging his tongue, and him flicking your hardened buds your body is feeling so many sensations at once. His cold tongue on your wet clit, with the shocks of electricity. The mini sparks flying off his neck, that are landing on your thighs.

He’s eating you out like he’s a starved man, he’s on a mission. Flat cold tongue against your warm heat, the temperature difference felt like it was tweaking your nerves. Your legs jerking with each flick of his big tongue, charging his tongue again, he places his whole mouth on your pussy, practically swallowing you whole. Sending a current charge to it all, your body jerking up, legs trying to close yet not being able to, while your toes instantly curl. The shocking feeling instantly sends you into a screaming orgasm. Your hands gripping his hair for dear life while tears pour down your face. Drinking down your essence, he lifts his soaking face off of your red, puffy cunt. Charging his finger one last time, he presses against your clit, giving it once more small shock causing your whole body to spasm, your juices leak out of you once more.

Your chest is heaving up and down, eyes shut tightly, trying to regain all the focus back on your mind. It feels like you are the one now short circuiting. You hear rustling, cracking your eyes open, you see Jongho shimmying out of his pants, trying your best to regain consciousness, you lock eyes with his lower half, wanting to see what is underneath the material of his pants. Just as he gets them low enough a pale blue cock springs out, with stitching similar to his skin running along his lengthened member. His cock, hard as a rock, with various colors on it, dripping a clear fluid? Wanting to make sure it wasn’t embalming fluid you sit up, running your fingers over his member, cock bobbing as you were giving it attention. You rub your thumb over the tip, bringing it up to your nose to smell it. It had no scent…did he fill his balls with water..?

Jongho getting impatient with your light touches trying to figure out what was taking you so long. He moves his hips forward, cock brushing against your bottom lip, licking your bottom lip trying to figure out the clear fluid, smacking your lips to get a taste. Bastard, he did fill Jongho with water. Smoothing your hands over his tight balls, you pump his enormous cock two times, before looking up at Jongho with a small pout on your face.

“Did he fill you with water Jjong? He prepared you just for me.” Jongho throws his head back, letting you pump his hard cock, your small hand not even coming close to fully wrapping around him. Grabbing your hand he pulls you off the metal table, holding you in his arms. He lays down, placing you on top of him. Seating you right below where is cock stands up fully erect, fully ready for attention.

“I’ve never had a cock this big before Jongho..” you whisper out, hands still rubbing alongside of him. A grin takes place once again on his face. Clearly proud that he will be your biggest. Gripping your hand he guides you to get on top, your drooling cunt wavering over his thick cock. Easing the tip into your body, you instantly moan at the pressure of just the tip barely brushing your walls. He’s thick, thick, thick. Your head instantly is thrown back, you ease down on Jongho slowly, thanks to him eating you out earlier it loosened you up perfectly. As your ass comes in contact with his cold legs. He charges his hand, touching the bulge in your lower belly, causing you to let out such a pathetic whimper it makes his cock jump inside you. Your hands tightly gripping his muscular thighs. The ridges from the stitching brushes your wet walls causing you to fall forward, your hands bracing themselves on his muscular chest.

“Oh my fucking god Jongho..” you breathe out. Chest heaving with pleasure, your cunt has his thick cock in a vice grip. His swollen head brushing against your spongy spot with each breath you take. He was wall to wall in your cunt, filling you up deliciously. If you had been looking at him you would’ve been he was holding back all restrain to not bounce you on his cock like you were some sort of fuck toy. He didn’t have hardly any feeling in his body due to no nervous system, but the way his cock could feel all of you was having him walk on a tightrope.

Giving your hips a wiggle, trying to get as comfy as possible you bring your hips up before slowly making your way down. Trying to get a small rhythm going before you lost your mind on his thick cock that was just splitting you open. Mouth hung open with each raise of your hips, throaty moans leave your mouth, your nails raking down Jonghos shirt. Jongho charges one of his hands, bringing it down to rub on your clit, the charge sending you into another dimension. Your body stutters on top of him, falling forward so your chest is against his upper stomach. You could feel the bulge in your stomach, causing you to moan even louder. The spacious area left no sound to the imagination.

“J..Jongho pl-please..” you grunt out with barely any breath. That grin reappearing he places both of his feet on the metal slab, hiking your body up. His hips immediately slamming up into you. Causing your body to jerk like you were a doll. One hand on your hip the other wrapping itself around your throat, keeping your body held up. His thrusts going at an inhumane pace, your eyes instantly fill with tears, your choked out screams are filling the room. Your pussy juices are coating your inner thighs, along with your ass, causing a wet slapping noise to fill the room. Echoing the space, you wouldn’t be shocked if even the outsiders who roam close could hear you. Charging his hand he slaps your ass, your back arching further into the air, the prickly feeling on your skin causes you to grip his wrist that is keeping you upright.

“Fuck..Fuck Jongho.” You stutter out with each slam of his thick cock that’s bullying its way into your warm wet walls, has you losing sanity. Charging his hand again, he slaps your ass once more, causing your body to litter once again with goose bumps, your nails digging into his wrist. Charging that same hand again, he slaps your ass even harder once more, causing a loud crackling noise that’s sparking from his bolts to be heard in the room. The feeling has tears pouring down your face, your body feels like it’s riding cloud nine. He has permanently ruined you for any other man or monster that comes after him. Charging his hand once more, he lets out a loud grunt, his hips hiking you up more, the way he’s bouncing you in the air like you weigh nothing has you practically catching air time. Touching his own cock filling it with electric current when your cunt slams down on him it sends a shock through your whole inner core, up to your brain. Your body instantly gets thrown into an orgasm, your back arching letting out a curdling scream of pleasure.

The electric current flowing from him, with your scream causes the lights to flicker, along with one of them busting, and shattering all over the floor. Jongho is still hammering away into your pulsing cunt, he’s jackhammering you up and down like you are a weightless rag doll that only he can use to get off. His grip on your throat tightens, charging his other hand once more he cups your cunt as he pulls out, shooting his clear cum fluid all over his hand that is cupping your oozing cunt. A loud grunt leaves his throat, causing another light bulb to shatter. The jolts of electricity cause you to succumb to the pleasure, ripping another forceful orgasm. Legs shaking, what’s left of the lights flickering, glass shattering orgasm. Your body instantly falls slack against Jongho, releasing your throat so you flop down on him like a wet doll. The buzzing noise of the currents of electricity in the room are all that’s heard besides your heavy breathing. Jonghos cool, clammy hands come up to cup your face to make sure you are okay.

Giving him a dopey smile, you give his cool lips a quick peck. Before laying your head back down on his chest. His cool fingers run up and down your backside. Eyes starting to get heavy, just as you are about to pass out from exhaustion, you hear a knocking coming from the lair door upstairs.

“The way I heard you screaming, I would say there are no complaints.” Dr. Stein says through a loud chuckle from the other side of the door.

Taglist: @sanhwalvr @abby-grace @petsuccube @maximofftrash @tunaasan @whatudowhennooneseesyou @kyeos4ng @seonghwasslytherin @pearltinyy @glintneon123 @bubblegumbird @araknoid @mingtina @oreoqueen @dani-is-tired @8tinytings @sunwoosbaby @mingiturnip @acetruepunk @alliecoady98 @s-unflowxr @rxnexxi @mixling-blog @staytinyinmybpack

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#kinktober 2023 #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #monster!ateez #kinktober masterlist #choi jongho smut #choi jongho x reader #monsterteez #ateez #ateez hard thoughts #ateez kinktober #ateez hard hours

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mypimpademia · 10 months

Text

— The Teacher (pt. 2)

Single dad! Gojo x Fem! Preschool teacher! Reader

Synopsis: Little Megumi wonders if you’re his new mom, and Gojo finds himself wondering the same thing.

TW: None

Note: click/tap here for part 1! or Click/tap here for part 3! I forgot to mention it in the first part, but ig it was kinda implied, Gojo is 29 in this not a teen like he was in canon. Gojo is also very briefly implied to get around

⇶ Satoru stuck to his promise of taking you out

⇶ He left Megumi with Utahime for the night, and made sure that everything was perfect for you

⇶ Truthfully, he went a little overboard out of his own anxiety

⇶ Booked reservations for one of the nicest restaurants in town, deep cleaned his house (just in case), got his already clean car detailed, bought a new suit despite having many hardly-worn ones in his closet, stalked your socials for hints at what you might like, and more that he’d be far too embarrassed to ever admit to

⇶ Satoru picked you up from your house at 6 pm, knocking on your door with a giant bouquet of flowers in hand

“You look incredible.”

Those were the only words Satoru could come up with when he saw you.

He always thinks you look incredible, but seeing you all dressed up outside of your usual work attire was a nice change of pace, and you looked effortlessly beautiful.

“Thank you, Toru,” you beamed. “You look pretty,” you told him, scanning over his tall figure, clad in a deep blue suit.

‘Toru’, ‘pretty’. He nearly passed out on your porch.

Satoru smiled, clearing his throat in an effort to gather his bearings as he fought back the deep blush that was crawling up his face.

“For you, mon chéri,” he said, in a corny fake French accent, presenting the large bouquet of flowers to you.

They were neatly wrapped in a brown paper, and tied off with a white bow. From just the look of it, you could tell they were expensive.

“These are my favorite,” you gasped, taking them from him. “How’d you know?”

He stalked your instagram and found a post from a year ago where you said you loved them.

“Lucky guess,” Satoru smiled. “Y’ready to go?”

⇶ He led you to his shiny black sports car, opening up the door for you to get in

⇶ It even smelled expensive, and the fresh scent of car shampoo was still lingering. You could tell he had it cleaned just for this, but didn’t say anything

⇶ When you got to the restaurant, out of place was an understatement for how you felt

⇶ You were just happy you decided to dress nicer than you had originally planned

⇶ Looking around, the restaurant was beautifully decorated, and the people dining were dressed just as beautiful

⇶ The more time you spent with Satoru, the more that you realized you knew next to nothing about him

⇶ Where does he get all this money from? What does he do for a living? Who is he, really? And what’s up with the sunglasses?

⇶ You will admit, the mystery only made him all the more attractive, but you had a newfound determination to peel back his layers

⇶ But your first date might not be the best time for that, so you were willing to let things unfold naturally for now

⇶ Satoru insisted that you ordered whatever you want off the menu because he was paying, and ignored your protests

⇶ You hopped around different topics of conversation throughout dinner, and you did eventually make it to the subject of work

⇶ Satoru asked you what exactly made you want to teach preschool, or teach at all, and watched your eyes light up

⇶ Teaching was undoubtably a job you need to have a passion for, and you had more than enough passion for it

⇶ You told him that you’ve always had an interest in teaching, and loved kids and thought they were precious, sacred even, and that their early years are the best part to watch and be a part of

⇶ Satoru’s heart was getting ready to leap out of his chest just watching you talk about something you love so much

‘She’d make a great mom for Megs…’

⇶ The thought surprised even him, Satoru wasn’t sure if it was genuine or intrusive, but it had him glancing at your features and around him to make sure he hadn’t accidentally said it aloud

⇶ He told you that all the kids were lucky to have you, and that seeing you take care of Megumi and all those kids with ease made him feel like his worries from adopting were pointless

⇶ He glazed over the adoption part so easily, you almost missed it

⇶ Sure, you were more than well aware that Satoru was a single father, and when you saw that his last name was different from Megumi’s, you just assumed it was his mothers last name

“It is his mothers last name, but he’s not at all my biological kid. I adopted him from… a friend.”

⇶ You had removed a layer from Satoru, only to find how thin it was in comparison to the amount he had left

⇶ The revelation answered some of the questions you had, and left you with even more at the same time

⇶ Just based on the hesitation he showed, you knew better than to press any further, and changed the subject

⇶ The rest of dinner went smoothly, and you and Satoru once again went back and forth about the bill before he was calling the waiter back to take his card

⇶ On the drive back, Satoru asked if you wanted to see Megumi since Utahime’s house was in the same direction as yours

⇶ You said yes, because of course you wanted to see Megumi, and because it was getting harder and harder for you to say no to Satoru

⇶ When you arrived at Utahime’s, Megumi lept at you before he even said hello to Satoru

⇶ Satoru feigned being hurt by the action, but Megumi still payed him no mind, directing all his attention to you

⇶ Satoru thanked Utahime for watching Megumi, and you overheard her saying something about not dumping his kid on her again

⇶ Megumi had you sit in the backseat with him, and told you about all the stuff he did at Utahime’s

⇶ All the sudden, he asked why you and Satoru were all dressed up

“Did you guys go on a date?”

You and Satoru shared a questioning look through the rear view mirror, one that asked ‘Should we tell him?’.

“Sure did little man!” Satoru told him, but Megumi didn’t seem too surprised by his answer.

“Oh, Dad goes on a lot of those,” Megumi said, before going back to playing with the plastic dinosaur in his lap.

Satoru was rethinking all his life choices in that moment. He gulped back the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, already going over how exactly he could explain that to you later on.

To his surprise, he heard you laugh at Megumi’s comment.

“But I’m your favorite, right?” You asked the boy, playfully nudging him. He turned to you with big wide eyes and smiled.

“Yup!”

⇶ Dropping you off at your house, Satoru thanked you for letting him take you out, and haphazardly tried to apologize for Megumi’s little comment and explain himself

⇶ You told him it was fine, and thanked him for the night, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek

⇶ Satoru froze up at the action, but managed to say bye to you as he collected himself and you disappeared into your house

⇶ When he and Megumi got back home, Satoru made a point to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t just throw out information like that to people, especially you

⇶ While putting on the boys pajamas in the dimly lit dinosaur themed room, Megumi yawned out a question

“Hey, dad,”

He spoke through a yawn while rubbing his eye with his fist. Satoru hummed back in acknowledgment, straining out the bottom of the little boy’s pajama shirt

“Is Ms. L/n gonna be my mom?” Megumi asked, looking at Satoru with low, sleepy eyes.

Satoru thought back to the statement that popped into his head during dinner. You would make a great mom for him.

“Um,” Satoru started, tucking Megumi underneath his comforter. “I dunno yet.”

He was honest. He didn’t know if what he was feeling for you was real or if he was just in over his head.

“I hope she is,” Megumi muttered, huffing out as his breathing turned into soft snores.

“Me too, Megs.”

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @kazuminari @goldenglow149 + @torusmochi

Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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theonewiththefanfics · 2 years

Text

Ten Things I Like About You (one-shot)

Synopsis: There is one rule for Y/N to accept Jason Carver's advances: if he wants to go out with her, the jock has to name ten things he likes about the resident 'Freak'Eddie Munson. Can he do it?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, Jason being a dick as usual, nothing else I can think of (minimally edited)

Genre: fluff mainly

Word count: 3085

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT SPECIFIC WRITTEN PERMISSION!!!

Y/N Y/L/N was an enigma at Hawkins High. Not unpopular by any means, but didn’t run directly in with the ‘it’ crowd either. She was friends or at least friendly with most of the cliques, but even with the ones she didn’t interact with, she didn’t bully or look down on them, simply coexisted without any problems. Eddie thought it was probably why he’d started to crush on the girl.

Typically, she’d be sitting by the cheerleader table, her and the Queen of Hawkins High Chrissy Cunningham being as thick as thieves unless Nancy Wheeler had taken some time off from their newspaper to come and eat a bit, but starting from a couple of months ago, from time to time, he’d find the girl by his Hellfire Club table. She wouldn’t bother them, wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t even look at them, simply sat down and started to push around the sludge-like mashed potatoes or scrutinize the way-too-orange looking mac‘n’cheese on her plate.

At first, Eddie wanted to snark at her, wanted to tell her to get lost, but the day Y/N had first taken a seat at the far end of their table, he’d noticed how she’d closed her eyes for a moment, took in a deep breath and exhaled. And then, when she did open her eyes – it was like a giant boulder had come off her shoulders. And he understood it. Maybe not exactly what or why she felt that way, but he did, and Eddie’d be damned if it didn’t make his heart skip a beat at the thought, she felt safe around him and his bunch, safe enough to let down her guard like that.

Slowly it had become a routine. Seemingly whenever Y/N had too much of something, she’d take a now unofficially assigned seat at the right end of their table and just sit there. She’d throw them a small smile and a wave, then pull out her Walkman and put the headphones on, disconnecting her from the surrounding world, and Eddie had sort of taken it upon himself to make sure Y/N enjoyed her forty minutes of peace unbothered. Maybe he’d sometimes let Robin Buckley or Chrissy take her out of the zen state, but for anyone else, Eddie would give the most menacing and crazy look he could muster, so the person tucked their tail between their legs and turned the other way, leaving the girl alone.

This was one of those days where Y/N needed to get away from the crowd, it seemed, as Eddie watched how her shoulders and back tensed more and more with every second the guys from the basketball team spoke around her while she sat next to Chrissy, before something in her snapped. She placed a gentle palm on the other girl’s hand, squeezed it and stood up, taking her food tray with her, as well as her book bag.

Loud “oh, come on, Y/N!” followed her, but she didn’t even look back, rather gritted her teeth so as to seemingly not let out whatever it was, she wanted to actually say.

With a deep sigh, she dropped the bag on the ground, and a bit more carefully placed the red plastic tray on the table as to not let the questionable meal of the day slip off.

She was wearing a pair of light baggy jeans, some graphic tee of an obscure-looking indie movie printed on, tucked behind the waistband and cinched with a black belt while a knitted patchwork cardigan kept her warm in the still somewhat cool spring winds.

Y/N looked comfortable, and that was also one of the things Eddie liked about her. She didn’t really follow the newest fashion trends. Sure, her clothes were mostly styled in a way that reflected whatever was in at that moment, but she did it in her own way. Eddie was pretty much sure, he’d seen that cardigan on her all throughout high school. She didn’t hide behind clothes to create a persona, she used that and make-up, or on some days none of it, to enhance who she already was.

“Shit,” Y/N muttered under her breath, bringing Eddie out from his thoughts as her fork clattered below the table.

Grumbling, she put her Walkman away to lean down and grab it, but the freshman Mike, who’d Eddie had recruited for the D&D club, beat her to it.

“Here,” the boy mumbled, and Y/N flashed him a grateful smile.

“Thanks. But I probably should get a new one. I don’t think I’m brave enough to put anything in my mouth that’s touched the cafeteria floor. Don’t want to be the cause of the new Black Plague or some shit.” She snorted. “Besides, I’ve made it to the end of my senior year. It’d be quite pathetic to kick the bucket like a couple of months before that.”

“Not as pathetic as repeating the senior year, over and over again,” Eddie chuckled from the head of the table, but Y/N didn’t laugh along with him at his self-deprecating joke.

“Just because someone’s not academically skilled, doesn’t mean they’re pathetic.” She was frowning. “I’ve heard you play, Eddie. You’re amazing. I have no doubt that when you get out of this hellhole, you’ll do big things. Just… just don’t give up yet, don't write yourself off like that.”

Eddie was one hundred percent sure he was blushing like a madman, but the soft smile she gave him made his heart soar at her kind words, let alone at the fact she had heard him play and had said he was talented. The man was just about ready to combust from the love in his chest.

Truth be told, Eddie was also academically inclined, it’s just that whatever the school threw his way couldn’t hold his attention for more than a second. He was excellent at math because of D&D, but when it came to finding the x on a Pythagorean theorem, he was lost because there was no intrigue behind it. He was an amazing storyteller, but his grammar wasn’t the best, and his handwriting was even worse, so most of the time even he couldn’t figure out what he’d written on the page, getting himself a fat D- for the unintelligible scribbles.

“Shit,” Mike muttered, bringing Eddie out from his daydreams and making him look up at the freshman, but his eyes were trained somewhere over Y/N’s shoulder.

Slowly he followed as she glanced backwards, and groaned as they noted Jason Carver walking up the Hellfire table, the whole club growing stiff and frowns etching themselves onto their faces.

“Not one single day of fucking peace,” Y/N mumbled under her breath and rolled her eyes.

“You okay?” Eddie leaned closer to her over the table. “Just give the word and I’ll tell him to fuck right off from here. I have no problems making a scene.”

“No.” She sighed, stabbing the fork into the food with a ferocity, Eddie could only imagine it was someone’s face. Hopefully that someone's that was sauntering their way. “Don’t. The shit he does and says to you is bad enough, so please don’t add any fuel to the fire on my account. Sorry, by the way.” She grimaced. “For all of that.”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s not like you’re saying those things, which by the way, thank you.”

Y/N frowned even more. “You shouldn’t be thanking me for being a decent person. Fuck how low has the bar gotten exactly?”

His snort made her lips quirk up in a smile, but all of it was wiped away when Jason cleared his throat.

For a moment she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, as if gathering her self-composure, before turning around in her seat with a raised brow. “Can I help you, Carver?”

“I just - uh - look.” Jason gave Y/N the most charming smile he could muster. “I know the guys can be a lot with the teasing, but I actually came here to say that honestly maybe we should do it, you know...”

She looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Should what?”

“Go on that date. I mean I think we’d look pretty cute together.”

“Yes, well, some people think hairless mole rats are cute, but you don’t really argue about taste,” Y/N deadpanned and once again Eddie snorted.

Jason threw him a scalding glare. “Something funny, freakshow?”

“Carver,” she snapped. “Seriously?”

The basketball player’s hands balled into fists, but it seemed like he knew throwing a punch at Eddie would be completely counterproductive. “Okay, look.” He averted his eyes to Y/N. “Can you just come back and sit with us? At least away from… them? I know that all of this,” he gestured towards the Hellfire Club. “Is just an act, okay. I know you’re trying to play hard to get, but at least do it with someone of your own status.”

“My own status? Who the fuck do you think we are?” the girl scoffed. “This is high school, Jason, not the Queen’s court.”

“This shit’ll follow you after high school, Y/N.” Jason looked up and down at Eddie as if he was vermin. “I’m just trying to help you make the right choices.”

Honestly, Eddie wasn’t even listening to what the asshole was saying as he watched in fascination as a plan developed in her head.

“You know what, Jason, you are right,” she said. “I will go out on a date with you, and I will never talk to anyone at this table. In fact, I'll never even walk past here again.”

Well, there went any chance Eddie had.

“If…”

Oh.

Y/N’s eyes met his. Eddie gulped, watching her stand up and slowly saunter away. His heart was beating a mile a minute and even though he didn’t have asthma, he was sure this was how an asthma attack felt, breaths coming in shorter and shorter as Y/N stood behind him.

For a second there was non-verbal communication between the two, as Y/N asked with her eyes if he was alright with her touching him, and he gave her a barely-there nod. Then her palms slowly settled on his shoulders before sliding over them and down and down his chest until she had her chin perked in the crook of his neck, her fingers intertwined right below his pecks, and oh, God, Eddie was gonna pass out.

He was desperately trying not to squirm because if there was one place on his body that was ticklish, it was his neck and collarbones area, but Eddie would stay still like the dead if it kept Y/N’s chin on his shoulder.

She was hugging him, her breaths tickling his neck, as his mind whirred, not even able to process any words coming out of her or Jason’s mouth, the rest of the cafeteria background having turned into white noise. All that existed was Y/N’s scent, and her touch, and her body weight pressing against his back and oh god, oh god, oh god.

“ – isn’t that right, Eddie?” Y/N’s voice invaded his ears and he blinked rapidly to get back to reality.

“What?”

“I said a guy should prove himself to a girl before asking her out, right?”

Eddie swallowed, and nodded, his eyes unable to break from Y/N’s gaze. “Right, yeah. Of course. Definitely. One hundred percent.”

“So then.” Y/N looked at Jason. “Don’t you think you’d have to prove to me I wouldn’t waste my time with you?”

Jason had his arms crossed, glaring at Eddie as he sucked on his teeth, probably trying to figure out a hundred different ways as to how to punch in his nose, but reluctantly looked at Y/N.

“Name your price, Y/L/N.”

“You, Jason Carver, have to name ten nice things about Eddie here. And you have to say them like you mean them.”

Jason let out a laugh, and the rest of the gathered basketball team mimicked him. Eddie hadn't even noticed his goons had gathered to watch the spectacle. “What? I meant something I can actually do.”

“I can start.” Y/N shook her head and smiled as if she was oblivious as to what he’d meant. “But obviously you can’t use my examples, you have to come up with your own. For one.” She turned to the side and looked Eddie directly into his eyes. Yep. He was for sure dead. Had to be. Or definitely was going to be because he wasn’t breathing. Was his heart still working? He wasn’t sure. “I absolutely love how you can play the guitar. I think it’s amazing. It takes dedication and skill to keep up with something like that. And well, I’d say it certainly means you’re good with your fingers, which is an added bonus girls definitely appreciate.”

You know what? If lightning struck him then and there, Eddie would be completely fine by it. Was he a massive virgin? Yes, very much so, he’d never even fingered a girl before, but holy shit, he’d play the guitar until his fingertips bled, if what Y/N said was true, especially if that was her opinion.

“Come on, Y/L/N.” Jason let out a chuckle of disbelief, but Eddie could see he was seething underneath, and it was very much so an enjoyable sight. “Stop playing. Tell me what I actually have to do to get you on a date with me and away from these lowlifes.”

Y/N simply shrugged, pressing her cheek against Eddie’s, pouting as she did so. “What do you mean? I already did – name ten nice things about Eddie. It can be about his looks, what he’s good at, how he’s helped someone – anything. Here’s an easy one – his mind is absolutely brilliant. You have to have amazing imagination to come up with such complex Dungeons & Dragons campaign plots, and I think he’d make an amazing novelist if he put those ideas on paper.”

“He’s a freak.” Jason finally snapped, sneering with as much venom as he could muster. Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if he actually was a snake underneath that skin and hair gel.

Y/N snorted and straightened out, but her palms remained rested on Eddie’s shoulders and he couldn’t help himself but settle his own over hers. Their fingers intertwined and she squeezed his palm in response. He was in heaven.

“And what, you’re not?” Y/N scoffed. “Jason, you’re obsessed with chasing an orange ball around a court like you’re a fucking dog who needs to hear ‘good boy’ every time you almost put it in the hoop. You think you’re so nice and all when you’re the most judgmental piece of shit I know. I asked you to name just ten nice thing about Eddie, and you couldn’t even pull some bullshit one out of your ass, but I definitely can name ten things I hate about you starting with the fact that you’re so high up your own ass you can’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I don’t care about sitting next to you, let alone going on a date with you. The fact that you can’t see beyond your own prejudices, makes me know I did the right choice by telling you to go screw your hand the first time around.”

“You’ll regret this,” Jason sneered. “I’m trying to save you, can’t you see? You’ve been sitting with them so long it’s started to corrupt you.”

She raised her brow. “Will I? Because from my standpoint my future looks pretty a-okay. And saved from what? A fantasy game? You think an elf is gonna chop my head off in the real world? Or some orc's siren-like voice will lure me to my doom? Get a grip, Carver, and get out of my face before I smash it in for you.”

Jason was absolutely seething, his face flushed red while his chest heaved up and down, throwing one final look at Eddie who had a satisfied smirk on his own. “Just you wait, Y/L/N, and you’ll see the true nature of these – these Devil worshippers. And when you do, don’t come crawling back to us.”

“Jason, if you had the last glass of water on earth and I was on fire, I’d rather be consumed by those Hellish flames you’re afraid of than go near you with a ten-foot pole.”

And just to add the cherry on top, just to piss him off even more Eddie wiggled his fingers in a ‘bye-bye’ motion.

For a moment, Jason stammered, clenching and unclenching his fists as if readying himself for a pounce, but even with the whole basketball team behind him, he’d been humiliated by Y/N already, and if Principal Higgins came in to see a brawl, he'd surely believe the girl's version of the story, mainly because Chrissy Cunningham would a hundred percent stand by her best friend.

Eddie was sure he’d pay for her sticking up for him later, and no doubt Jason would find a way to make Y/N’s life a hell, but for now, they celebrated, as Carver turned on his heel and stalked away, the whole of Hellfire erupting in cheers and whoops.

“I’m so in love with you,” Eddie breathed out and Y/N threw her head back in a laugh. He swore it was the most beautiful sound in the world before he realized he’d said his thoughts out loud.

“Yep, and you said that out loud too.” Her smile was blinding, as she took the offered seat at Eddie’s side one of the boys sliding further, instead of retreating to the one at the end of the table. “But it’s okay. I – uh – I kinda like you too. It’s what made putting Jason in his place double the joy.”

Fuck it. It was high-time he shot his shot. “So, if I asked you out on a date would you tell me to go and screw my hand or would you give me a chance?”

She rested her chin on her palm, giving him a coy smile. “Well, can you name ten things you like about me?”

Eddie leaned in closer, their noses almost brushing, wide grins on both of their faces. “Baby I have a whole list – would you like to hear it alphabetically or by the dates I noticed them?”

“Your pick, Eddie.”

By the time he walked that graduation stage and flipped Principal Higgins off, he hadn’t even gotten to B yet as the list was ever growing.

So was hers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

A/N: :)

P.S. Eddie tags are open if anyone wants to be tagged in future stories, HMU or leave a message under the fic :)

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #netflix stranger things #stranger things cast #Stranger Things Spoilers #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fluff #eddie munson fluff

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

Text

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Tell Her You Love Her 3/4 (Word count 4.5 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: Finally I can share the rest of this crazy story with you guys! Chapter 4/4 will be posted right after this one. Also if you haven't yet seen @shizukaay0 's amazing fanart for this fic, go take a look, it's steamy!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She wakes up next morning only to find König gone.

The restless night nearly makes her sleep in, and when she notices that the man has left while she was still sleeping, something twists like a blade inside her stomach. She throws the covers off, scours the room with her stare, and notices a note and a small sunflower on the bedside table.

He has left his knife – or one of them – here too. Another gift.

The steel is dark, nearly black; the handle olive green, with sturdy finger grooves and a heavy guard to protect the fingers. The saw-toothed portion on the back of the blade gives the knife a look that most people would probably deem ugly. The blade is wide and ends in a vicious, fat tip that looks sharp enough to puncture flesh without having to apply much pressure.

She doesn't know what a Glock knife looks like, but this is exactly how she sees König: petrifying, big, and brutal. In her eyes, beautiful… Stunning.

The knife juts from the table and holds a note in place although there is no risk of wind to take it off.

Flower for my Engel

I'll see you tonight

The clumsy, hurried message immediately makes her smile. The disturbing thoughts from last evening are only an odd memory – his offerings make her insides glow with warm milk and honey, she feels silly, like summer – and the promise to come to her every night doesn't feel like a threat anymore, it feels… magical, a secret romantic meeting, something wild, something she has always avoided from fear of trying new things.

The floral dress on the floor doesn't appear as evidence of her ruining anymore. It's fairytale-like: that he leaves flowers and knives wherever he goes. The destroyed bra makes her almost giggle. When has a man ever done something like that to her in the heat of passion?

The night feels like another odd dream: König had barely fit to sleep in her bed, and she had barely fit to curl around him. He had slept like a baby, motionless and peaceful, while she woke up every few hours to admire him: to watch the slow pulse between his collarbones barely revealed by the hood and listen to the faint snore that stopped for the smallest moment when she brushed her fingertips over his stomach.

Her muscles ache from lying half on top of him all night. Changing position was out of the question because he held an arm of steel around her all night. Luckily, it prevented her from falling from the bed. But now her muscles were coated with pains of not getting enough sleep while being held in place by a giant for almost 9 hours. Not to talk of the fresh aches born from their activities before getting those precious few winks of sleep…

She goes to work that day with such an everlasting beam that people notice her. She's not entirely sure what has happened, but she is suddenly wildly alive, and blooming.

No one knows about her secret man, her secret, sturdy weapon. No one knows she is the one he comes to every night: the shy, invisible cleaner who has seduced the man whom everyone fears.

And they can keep their boring normalcy and dull decency. She has found something infinitely better.

He's her most precious secret from now on.

He comes to visit her in the break room in the middle of the day, and she's slightly surprised. She thought they would see each other only at night from now on.

She greets him with a smile, and he answers her delight with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He looks far more normal now that the tension is gone. It's suddenly easy to be in his company because they share a secret nobody else knows about.

"Hi… What are you doing here?"

Her shy smiles and the soft whisper should tell him that she doesn't object at all to this sort of intrusion. She might be a little obsessed now too.

"I had to see you," he says as if she's his priority from now on, and her heart feels lighter and lighter. He's equally as lovestruck as she, then.

"You look so beautiful."

She's walking in a dream again: this man calls her beautiful even when she's hidden in her cleaner uniform, stripped from her dresses and flowers and makeup. The only thing she has is her smile, really, but he's not any less adoring. She's being worshiped during her sleepy coffee break, in broad daylight, when she's dressed in dull, grimy working clothes… Who would've thought?

“Thank you,” she gives him another smile, and he moves to her; so close that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

The kiss that follows is stolen but thoroughly consensual. She disappears inside his hood and smiles on his lips, which are far gentler now. It's a chaste little kiss that happens in darkness and in secret, like everything else between them.

"Will you come to me tonight…?" She asks as if the note wasn't promise enough that he would. He's far too decent, not even groping her this time, and it drives her crazy.

"Nothing could keep me from you," he answers straight into her mouth. His musk and the soap he uses – something breezy and pungent, tea tree, perhaps – surround her much like the hood.

"You can be on top this time. I want to see how you take it–"

"Shh…" She smiles, almost laughs at his libertine whispers. He's smiling, too.

"Don't worry. I'll do the heavy lifting if you're tired."

He retreats, the hood is taken away and her sight is filled with light and decency, but then his hands go around her waist and lift her from the ground. It's like she's flying, floating through the air before he sets her gently on the coffee table.

"Except that you're not heavy at all," he says, voice dark and thick from arousal. He moves to her neck, the hood-coated face roams up and down her throat as he moves to whisper more suggestions in her ear.

"Or you can take it in your mouth… Have you ever had a man in your mouth?"

Something tells her that if she were to say yes, it would deeply upset him. The hair on the back of her neck starts to tingle, and when she doesn't answer him, he continues.

"I could eat you at the same time. Would you like that?"

His voice is darker still, and it makes her bite her lip and grab his arm for support. Even the idea of a 69 with him is dizzying. She can barely breathe from the joy and wanting.

How is she supposed to continue her day when he pops up out of nowhere and talks such sweet filth in her ear?

"König…"

"And after that… We'll fuck until your legs shake."

"Stop," she laughs a hushed giggle in the fabric of his hood. "This is inappropriate…"

"Oh ja. I'm hard again."

Mmh.

"All your fault, Engel."

"You are incurable," she laughs.

"That's what they say."

Perhaps it's a joke, but the word they makes her briefly wonder if he has had this kind of affairs with other women, too. Perhaps she's not so special after all. The image of him fucking other women with abandon breeds a stale, bitter putrefaction in her stomach.

Has he called them angels too…?

Her hands are about his neck, but she has no memory of throwing them there. She wishes she could just dangle from him the rest of the day until he carries her to bed and does all the things he just promised he would do. Let her do all those things to him while he gets to watch – watch how well she can take him, ride him, suck him.

She makes a silent promise to herself and to him that she will be the special girl, no matter the cost.

"Do you want coffee? I just made some," she asks in hopes that he would stay for a little while longer even if he isn't supposed to be here in the social spaces of the maintenance personnel.

"Sure. I would love that."

The man wants his coffee dark, and it only makes her smile as she pours him that minimalistic, unsweetened beverage. She likes his knives dark, his hood dark, his shirts dark… Perhaps she should start wearing black dresses.

"You left your knife in my room."

"For you," he tilts his head a little, wanting to know if she likes his gift. Has he given knives to other women, too, after he's fucked them…?

"Thank you. It's incredible."

"Good combat knife," he nods. "Doesn't reflect light."

If someone was here with them right now, they would probably roll their eyes at how deranged this conversation is. What rotten lunatics they both were.

She’s completely flushed, and smiling like an idiot from receiving a fat, vile knife as a present after having been fucked into oblivion twice last night.

"Well, it reminds me of you."

He looks at her, searching for deceit or ridicule, but there is none.

"That's how you see me..?"

"Mm-hm," she hums with sudden lightness. "Incredible."

His eyes betray the same look he had when he came inside her last night: brief, fragile, naked hope. Her next smile is sadder because obviously, this guy didn't receive compliments often. She's watering a dry desert plant with a single, simple word, and his eyes light up like he's just received years and years worth of good care.

He steps forward and looks like he is finally about to sit at the table. The obsessed look has melted into pure adoration: it's even more knee-buckling than the possessive stare that has followed her for weeks.

One of the maintenance officers arrives to get a cup of coffee in a hurry; a man whose name she doesn't even care to remember, whose world seems to consist mainly of stress. He’s a typical, middle-aged, burned-out man who doesn't appear to remember how to cherish the little things – such as a good cup of coffee – but rushes by everyone and everything and blames them for his stress. She always feels pity for both people and inanimate objects that get to suffer from this man’s exhaustion.

But she doesn't even see him now: all she sees is the fierce operator who is not supposed to be here. The giant who looks at her equally as mesmerized, like everyone else has ceased to exist in this world.

The air is teeming with naked lust and barely contained, sweet hunger, but the poor officer is blind to all of that. A sudden warmth gushes on her chest as the man bumps into her while rushing by with his overfilled coffee mug. She might as well be invisible again, and the hot liquid burns, but it has no power to make her angry or sad.

“Oh–excuse me,” she chirps with a dreamy smile on her face when it’s all his fault that she has coffee all over her shirt.

Before the man gets to the door, König grabs him by the collar and hurls him against the wall. She doesn’t even catch the knife before it plunges inside a round stomach like the worker is merely a balloon to be punctured.

The blade comes away all red, then disappears into the flesh again, and again and again… She loses count after six; the knife sails inside the same hole like he’s fucking the man with the blade. The slick sounds remind her of their intense love-making last night, they taint the passion in the most twisted way.

More hot coffee ends up splashing on her thighs before the sound of a mug smashing into tiny little pieces on the floor tells her that all innocence is lost.

Her gaze is glued to the black and red mush that used to be a polo shirt and a stomach: the man stays upright only because he is not allowed to collapse to the ground. But after a few seconds that seem to last hours, he is shoved to the floor in a sad heap.

She’s still staring at the now dead man when König takes a small step toward her. It occurs to her that both her palms are over her mouth only after she raises her eyes to his, and sees that he had expected some other reaction than this.

Her hands won’t descend; they try to keep all her horror inside, try to reassure her that this is only a dream, she hasn’t woken up yet, and the relief will be immense once she does.

But that never happens.

It’s real, and she would give anything to go only a few minutes back in time where the man was still alive and König was not everything she always feared he was.

He is looking at her with bewildered confusion, then the corner of his eye twitches, just once. He forces the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood off: a telltale sign that he is more than thrown off balance.

Her horror and disgust escort him out the door in a tornado-like state, and she is left alone with two spilled coffees and a bleeding corpse, wondering who will clean the mess because she cannot for her life do it.

. . . . . .

The shock leaves her body cold and weak as she sits on a bench in the hallway, too distracted to carry on with her day, too afraid to go into her lonely room. It feels safer to remain in a public space, even if people who pass her by look at her with pity and confusion.

She cried her eyes and heart out after the shaking receded. She understands now why shock is such a dangerous state to be in. She always thought it a lie that people could die from shock, but not anymore.

Other people cleaned the mess, after the investigation. How she was able to stay so calm and collected during the questioning is a miracle on its own. What came after was an empty, bleak abyss.

She’s still staring at the floor after the buzzing around her quiets down. Minutes or hours pass by, the work day is over, steps fade away, doors close, people leave.

“Now now… What's the matter here lass?”

It’s the Scottish dude, unbearably benign, and looking like he’s actually caring about why she looks so devastated.

So, the other operators haven’t yet heard.

She doubts if König will receive much more than a scolding for what he did, high-ranked and fiercely dedicated to his work as he is. The man’s simply too valuable to be thrown away. They will just blow enough money to cover this shit right up.

This is not a regular army, and these are not regular people.

Soap sits down next to her, and she doesn’t even mind. At least he’s normal. At least something in this world is still intact, and smiling kindly.

"König did–König did something terrible."

She snobs and snivels, nose clogged and numb, eyes still burning from the tears. Soap looks at her with unadulterated concern, then pity. His brows knit together and he swallows before sighing profoundly.

"Right. What did he do now?"

When she only continues to stare at the floor, Soap raises a hand and starts to rub her back. Rather forcefully, to make it clear that he's not making a pass at her.

“Did he do something to you?”

She shakes her head slowly, because technically, it’s the truth. He didn’t knife her down.

Soap doesn’t ask any further questions. He must know without telling that König has done something bad, something fucking foul even if she hasn't been at the receiving end of it.

"Wanna hear my advice? Just stay away from that guy. Don't talk to him, don't pay attention to him."

The hand on her back stops as he thinks of more advice to give her while her heart grows cold and lonely.

"Just pretend that he doesn't exist."

It’s another punch in the gut to hear that she, the invisible girl, should simply return to her invisibleness and condemn König to nonexistence, too. To cast him out and send him even further into exile. To pretend that he had never been inside her, never brought her gifts.

The hand disappears, but then she feels padded gloves on her chin. She's too tired to flinch, and the hand gently coaxes her to turn her head and look back at the Scottish sunshine.

"Now… Give me a little smile, lass. It can't be that bad."

He’s not flirting with her.

She’s far too plain for Soap.

Or at least, that’s how she feels: unattractive, to men like him. To twinkling brown eyes, a perfect jawline, good jokes and outgoingness… She's had a few admirers but König is the only man who has looked at her like she’s nothing short of a goddess.

Soap, however, is the only one who came to clumsily cheer her up from the slump that witnessing a violent stabfest has sent her in. Everyone else just rushed by with feigned hurry. Every kindness she receives, she usually returns tenfold… But kindness is also a burden. Under the surface, she mainly wants to get rid of Soap; wants just to be left alone. Finally go back to her room and cry herself to sleep.

So she gives him a smile, shy enough to make him believe it’s genuine.

"There we go," he smiles back like an innocent sun, and behind him, in the darkening hallway, she catches the approaching giant: a black hood and under that, a bone-searing blue gaze.

"Wait–wait, wait!"

She darts from the bench, between Soap and him, like her lithe little body is enough to shield John MacTavish from a murderous titan.

If a man who spills coffee on her deserves to be stabbed more than a dozen times, what will happen to a man who has dared to touch her and make her smile?

"Don't,” her hand meets the steel of König's chest, and the blood drunk Goliath actually stops.

“Don’t, König, please."

The ice-cold gaze drops to her, and there’s such a range of emotion behind those blues that she has a hard time catching even half of the storm raging inside her maniac.

Soap rises from the bench behind her: the rustle of clothes and the squeak of gear tell her as much.

"Caught the girl crying,” he says with poorly disguised trepidation in his voice. “Now I don't know what you have done but maybe you should apologize."

Soap’s bravery is admirable. The flash of rage that is sent behind her could scald flesh from bones.

She presses herself against König, hugs his middle, tries to guide his attention elsewhere.

Just let the him go, please, no more…

Soap could perhaps defend himself for a while, but she doubts if the Austrian war machine would stop even when he’s shot full of holes.

Gargantuan arms go around her like a cage: she’s his, and forever will be. The true cost of being cast out from heaven is heavier than she had ever imagined; the tears that arise are born from a deeper trauma than that of witnessing a homicide in her quiet little break room.

. . . . .

König waits as she goes to have a shower. He follows her like a dark cloud as she goes to throw her work clothes, stained with coffee and the memory of blood, to the washing machine. He waits with statuelike composure as she finally sits on her bed, hair still dripping wet and leaving damp stains on her cute little white dress.

Wearing white seems like an abomination right now.

"I told you I don't want you to hurt people," she says quietly while watching how the water gathers at the tip of the strings of hair and tip-tip-tips on her dress and hands.

The man says nothing to defend himself. All the rage and fury is gone, his shoulders are tense, high up in the sky, almost in his ears. He’s shielding himself, and it makes her confused – clearly, he feels empathy, so why is he like… like this?

"I don't think you understand,” she swallows, heart beating more calmly now. He’s not going to plunge a knife in her, that much is certain. But still…

"I'm afraid of you."

She raises her stare: a powerful accusation, a woman's weapon. His head pulls back – he's surprised at this newfound nerve.

"I'm afraid of you, König," she emphasizes, much louder now. The declaration rings so true that it leaves her breathless and free, even powerful.

He, on the other hand, is a paralyzed beast. A golem stripped of the magical word that makes him a soulless robot. His eyes betray fear of loss for the first time, real, actual fear. He steps toward her, and when she doesn’t stop him, walks slowly to where she’s sitting.

He falls to one knee, slowly, so slowly – like she's a bird about to fly off. It pulls at her heart, it rattles the cage of her ribs. The frigid padding of his gloves touch her cheek, and she surrenders an inch or two. Maybe more than that.

She doesn’t know who lifts the mask, he or she, but her lips meet his desperate ones under all that black.

"I'm afraid of you…"

She whispers it on his lips, in his mouth, although she’s not afraid anymore. She’s pissed, and somewhat in love, and addled, shaken, ruffled to her core.

The kiss turns into a hungry one when he notices she’s not meaning what she says. Before long, she's on her knees too, and he's devouring her until she finds herself in his arms, being gently set on the floor. A trembling hand disappears under the hem of her dress, and the fabric comes up with it as he travels up her thigh.

But the only thing that’s wet right now is her hair, everything else is parched dry, locked up, sealed like the tomb of Tutankhamun, and there are curses in store for the one who will try to enter with force. Hell, even with a trembling, delicate hand.

And it’s not because she can’t get aroused – she could, in mere minutes with him – but because she’s not wet at the very instant he’s in her presence, that makes her grab the hand currently trying to get some solace from her.

"No."

He stops but doesn’t move that hand away. He’s panting in her mouth: needy, and in a whirlpool of despair. The only thing that can make him feel better is her wetness, which she cannot provide him.

The hand probes; it forces its way up just an inch.

"No."

She's relentless, and he finally draws his hand away, only to place it hesitantly and with an immense amount of grief, on her waist. She feels tiny under that giant palm.

"I'm not your plaything," she whispers, even finds the courage to shoot a tiny glare his way.

The hand does not apply pressure. If anything, it grows lighter and lighter with the fear of scaring her away.

"I made a mistake, Engel," he breathes. "You're not a toy."

Her eyes must betray both her hurt and longing because the man ups the stakes immediately.

"I'll give you anything you want," he tries: so desperately, so seriously that it sounds quite ridiculous.

"Can you just go," she whispers while a tear or two push out from the corner of her eyes. They’re hot as hell because they’re born of odd love.

"Engel–"

"Just leave."

The fingers on her waist curl, they grab her dainty little dress like it’s his only gateway to heaven. He releases the fabric soon enough, then grabs it again and lets out an agonizing sound.

Just go, go, please just leave me be…

She wants him to understand that there are consequences to his actions, and at the same time, she wants him to just hold her, to fix everything and fix her. It doesn't take the bitter taste of betrayal off her tongue to realize that she always knew what he was. She knew.

He rises to his feet, paces around a few times, more and more confused, distressed like a tortured animal. She sniffs and curls into a fetal position, hoping that he would just leave, and at the same time, hoping that he would brush off her demands and just hug her.

"I can't," he finally wails as if he can hear even her thoughts. "You're crying…”

It breaks her heart into million pieces – how can the same man stress and fuss about her tears when just hours ago, he had murdered some innocent man in cold blood?

He comes to the heap of her again, falls to his knees, then caresses her arm so softly that at first she thinks she’s just imagining the touch.

"Little angel," he tries.

Her following sob is like that of a child's. Why does he have to be so perfect and at the same time, such a–

"I know that I'm a monster."

Her eyes want to fly wide open, but she keeps them shut. He's self-aware, so much so that it hurts. He pets her more neurotically now; it's almost as if he's comforting himself and not her.

"Don't send me away," he begs, then curls behind her in an awkward spooning, holds and rocks her gently as she cries some more. After the catharsis that lasts for good long minutes, he gathers her like a doll in his arms and carries her to the bed so she doesn't have to lie on the cold, hard floor.

"I'll make it better," he says again and again as he caresses her and strokes her hair, "I promise I'll make it better…"

“Just go,” she cuts him off with a whisper.

He leaves eventually, after some more pacing and a few sighs, and she understands that he actually cared for her all this time: otherwise, he would've just taken what he wanted.

She slips into a dream, a soft oblivion where everything is well and summer is at its peak. They hold hands and stroll through the freshly cut grass, birds are singing, and he has no mask.

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

#könig x reader #könig x female reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #könig #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #könig smut #konig x reader #call of duty #mw2 x reader #yandere könig #könig imagine #just friends

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m0chisenpai · 11 months

Text

P.Y.T ( Pretty Young Thing)

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

42!Miles Morales x black!reader

Warning(s): nothing too crazy. just a bit of cursing

Honestly it’s giving Poppy and Branch

You stuck out like a sore thumb in Miles’ life. A bright pink, bedazzled thumb. He’ll never forget the first moment he saw you, well saw you again. He was out after school with some of the boys, and he saw you with your girls. You two crossed paths once or twice in middle school before you transferred for a bit to one of those downtown academies.

He recalls how you were the oreo that could answer any chem question without flinching at the sheer amount of conversion and what not involved.

You didn’t bag an eye or flinch at the harsh comments, the nickname that made Miles grind his teeth. How’s it your fault you were top three in the science department?

Yet here you were, your hands covered your glossy pink lips that spilled with a laugh that Miles wanted to hear more of. Your nails gleamed with bright charms and some cartoon characters and your other hand tossed a loose bang from your face.

You changed but he still saw the bright pink braces girl with various cartoon charms dangling from her purple kanken.

You all headed into the bodega and he and his boys followed in behind you. One of them said he needed to hit your friends up about something and it was coincidence because the two of you were reintroduced.

Miles found it endearing how despite your loud and boisterous behavior when the two of you got introduced, here you stood quiet as a mouse looking anywhere but at Miles.

You held a pack of candy in one hand and a bottle of water in the other while your groups spoke behind you as you stepped up to pay. But Miles caught your frustration as you dug into your purse.

“I got you” he stepped in and tapped his phone before you could protest.

“Thanks Miles I’m so sorry, next time it’s on me” you give him a smile as you slide the back into the book of your arm.

And it's then when he realizes how much he's missed you since middle school.

“Nah it’s all good you know I got you” his eyes watch as you fidget with your nails and he can’t help but smirk and gently bump you. “Why you acting shy? Used to hear you all the time in the halls.”

You gawk up at him and smack him in the arm. And he notes how your hand lingers a bit. It’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Morales how dare you! You look annoyed I didn’t want to bother you.. and who said you could get so tall.” You crossed your arms.

“I don’t think you could bother me.” And the way you look up at him is enough to know he’s got you wrapped around his finger just as you do him.

“And no one told you to stink your growth with all that coffee.”

“Hey!”

Before you part ways Miles gets your new number and makes sure to save his into your phone.

You slowly find yourself bleeding back into Miles’ life. Short texts get longer. You’re sending hearts within four months, and Mama Rio knows your special knock when you enter the apartment to wait for Miles. She feeds you when you stay the long nights and Mr.Morales doesn’t want you going home for your safety.

When he comes home from his shifts he would stop you before you were heading out and tells you that you might as well stay the night. He was the same gentle giant you remember from back in middle school and he welcomes you into his home with open arms just as he did before.

He’s always quick to give your pops and mom and text when you do stay the night and they’re more than appreciative.

Miles bought a blanket just for you when you slept over on the couch. It’s fleece, pink and covered in a my melody pattern. He even provides a silk pillow in a matching shade cause he knows you won't sleep with a mix matched set. He pulls it up and tucks it in when he sees you fast asleep coming in from a job, and fixes your bonnet before it slips off.

You go from Y/N in his phone to Mi Tesoro.

You’re leaving lip gloss and lashes on his desk and taking jackets of his with you. He’s walking you to the bus and won’t leave till he sees you on it safely and watches your location till you’re in the house.

You begin to show back up in his sketches but he won’t show you. His sketchbook is intimate and when he does slowly show you his pieces your heart swells up.

You always were done up, but on the days when you weren’t Miles still swore you were beautiful. With lashes and without. With a full face or bare. Nails on and off. You were his whole world.

Miles knew about the dudes you used to mess with. He was smart when he could apply himself and he knew that while the relationships ended in good terms and there was no bad blood you settled. And he wasn’t going to build your relationship with him off of settling.

No, you deserved the world and therefore he was going to give it. Because you have him the same treatment in return with zero hesitation.

So when he’s planning to ask you to be his girl. He goes all out.

After school, as always, he asks if you can come by tonight. You agree but today he wants to go up on the roof and you quickly agree. But when you go up it’s different. It’s illuminated and the trail of candles lead you to your usual spot near the edge. But it’s set up with a blanket and atop it are a bouquet of roses and the large strawberry hello kitty you were raving on the phone about last week.

“I’m not the best with words or my emotions. But I know that I couldn’t let this feeling est me anymore. So I had to draw it.” Miles nods his head and you look up at the brick wall and gasp at the sight of…you. But it’s more ethereal, you want to ask Miles how he did such a beautiful portrait but he’s guiding you to look back at him with misty eyes.

“Be mine, please? My girl, my baby.”

And your hand covers your mouth like the first time but your nodding quickly and throw your arms around him and tuck yourself under his jaw.

“Miles you're lucky I used my good setting spray!” you smack his chest as he pulls you into his chest and guides your lips to his in a gentle peck.

“Sorry love I couldn’t help” he smirks down at you.

“Don’t look at me like that” you pout and push softly against him. And he tilts his hand to look down at you.

“Like what hm? How am I looking at you?” And you rolls your eyes and pull him to plant another kiss to his lips.

Tonight he doesn’t chide you about the residue your gloss leaves behind. He’ll wear it with pride. Tonight and the next days to come.

He wonders if they’ll always be like this. He hopes they are.

Because moments like this are always fleeting.

#miles morales x reader #miles morales imagine #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth42!miles x reader #42!milesmorales x reader

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yandere-kokeshi · 5 months

Note

Just wondering...What would mw2 react if reader got stabbed then the reader be like,"Ouh no! It's feel tickles though." While bleeding then laugh like after got hurt badly.

— Yandere Price, Ghost, and König finding their darling laughing at their stab wound

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about blood, and them being worried

A/N: Since you didn't specify what characters, I did random! Hope you can still enjoy <3

John "Captain" Price"

The minute you walk in from being outside from the garden, laughing at the stab wound and it gushing everywhere, John is immediately turning into Price, running towards you and straight to putting pressure on the wound. While he knows laughing is part of the adrenaline thing, he finds it odd and almost comforting; in his mind, you’re alive and that’s good.

Price is reaching for his cellphone, not caring about the blood one bit, and calling for Laswell and the team, urging them to get here whilst keeping you awake; making sure that you talk to him clearly and loudly.

“Funny, yeah? What else is funny, hm? Hey… keep those pretty eyes open. Mkay?”

He tries to keep calm, but every word you spill out is that it tickles, not that it hurts. And that’s concerning to him, to a very high point of degree. Is this situation funny? Are you sick? Did you do this to yourself? It must be the adrenaline– must be.

When you’re taken to the ER, get the help you need. Surgery is mandatory, and everyone shows up in time to ensure no danger is near. The first thing you’ll wake up to is Price pacing back’n’forth, anxiety making him scratch at his beard, before suffocating you with kisses and a bit of tears as soon as he sees you’re awake.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

He came to check up on you, paranoia scratching at his legs from being away from you — and upon finding you, he sees puddles of blood underneath your legs; giggles and your cracking voice of, “it tickles, Simon!”

The gentle giant turns into Ghost, the deadliest battlefield of a man that you didn’t want to know is present. His deep brown eyes turning black, and immediately tells you to stop laughing– his voice shaking, running over your wound as he began to put pressure and wrap it up in clothes he tore off himself.

Ghost calls help, not remembering who or what he said. He’s focused on you, and your laughing state.

“Keep talkin’ to me, yeah? What’s so funny? Keep talkin’ to me, pretty face– com’on.”

He doesn’t remember much — Price’s hand landing on his shoulder for a minute, which only resulted in a punch. Then the ride to the hospital, whispering words that he didn’t remember. And now, with you being out of surgery, the only thing that kept him from going insane was your vitals beeping; and soon, your very eyelashes were fluttering open. Simon touched your cheek, kissing you so-oh gently as if you could shatter. His British accent was prominent, asking what happened and how did you end up being stabbed.

König:

If it wasn’t the glass of flowers shattering to the floor and your manic laughing, he wouldn’t have seen you bloody — your thigh urgently bleeding with the deepening knife inside you.

He calls Horangi, yelling at the phone to get paramedics as fast as they can down to his location before laying you down on the floor; pressure and a towel to stop the bleeding. And of course, he took note of your laughing. Why are you laughing?

“Hey– Hase, look at me. Going to be okay – you’re going to be fine, m’kay? What’s so funny, tell me; humor me.”

König doesn’t know why you’re laughing. And himself doesn’t know either, he’s chuckling at your state of mind. But he’s worried. The nervous chuckle that he does in private. Fuck, what happened to you, and who’s the intruder—!

It’s a matter of minutes of your laughing and keeping you busy on how the deep wound ‘tickles’ before the adrenaline goes away. And within minutes, Horangi, and the others get there — telling him to jump in within the ambulance as they clear the house. He’s unstable, hands and voice shaking. Surgery is prominent, and the next time you awake, he’s beside you with soulless eyes that shine of hope when he kisses you deeply.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months

Note

Could you do more cave boy Danny please? I really wanna see what you have in mind for the direction you want the prompt to take 👻

The first thing that registers for Danny is the flouting feeling that he often relates to flying. To him, it always felt like being in the water, perfectly balanced with his arms and legs spread out, letting himself be weightless and left up instead of fighting gravity.

He allows himself to be taken by the sensation. It's not often he can fly just for enjoyment, especially in recent months. The Waynes were far too observant.

It is only when he tries to move into a more comfortable position that he notices the restraint.

Unlike in the water, he does not move slightly up and down with waves so he knows he's not flying in his ghost form. There is nothing that ever hinders him, even if slightly.

This is a different sense of flying.

It's caused by medication.

Danny's eyes snap open, fearing men in white suits, and instead gets a teenager in black and red-leaning his head into his hands. There are no restraints or a containment pod, instead, there are soft warm blankets and a large bed.

There are beeps from machines and a tube inside his arm, tapped to the top of his elbow. He's not sure what is in it but he hopes it to help with his pain and not to....see what his DNA is made of or something.

Thoughts are....hard right now. Like trying to grasp sand but it only slips through his fingers. He is aware but not. Did someone steal his brain? He is usually a much better thinker.

"Brucie!" The red and black teenager grasps, throwing his head up. Danny squints at him, wondering if his black wings are alright. They didn't explain or even react to his movement.

Danny should contact Frostbite. His Yeti can fix up those right up.

"It's a cape" The other laughs but his voice is soft with sadness. Danny squints at him trying to pinpoint why he would be so sad. It might be because he hasn't shifted into a butterfly yet.

"I'm not a butterfly." The other laughs a little more amused.

Danny's eyes widened. Was the teenager a mind reader? That's a scary thought. What if he learned all of Danny's secrets?

"Brucie....who's Danny?"

Nah, Danny wasn't risking it. He was going back to sleep. He had to escape into his dreams that way they would be just as confused by them as he was. He chuckles to himself, knowing that they won't know what to do against the giant green dog that guarded his dreams.

"Goodnight Brucie. Enjoy your green dog"

________________________________________________

Hours later Danny wakes up again but this time he is much more lucid. He glances around the room, eyes flickering over the machine and wires attached to him with little care.

He can recognize the room the Waynes gave him with ease. Everything from the posters he had put up in an attempt to look like an average teenager- even if he did only put up posters of Batman and his crew- to the random nick-nacks he left behind in his escape.

It was a bit bare from when he took everything but it's still the room he called home for a while.

How in the world did he get back to Wayne Manor?

Danny needs to get out now.

Standing up on uneasy legs, he rips out the wires as fast as he can, uncaring of the loud alarms that ring the moment he does. He rushes for the door, vision blurry, having to force all of his will into getting one step and then another.

Danny is forced to take small pauses every now and then because his body simply can't handle moving too fast. His legs shake from the effort it takes to keep him up right but he pushes through anyway.

It's only when he manages to get to the door that he remembers his powers. Danny flexes his abs into a clench that he had come to associate with activating his powers. For a brief second, twin rings of light appear, but they only move z few centimeters before flickering out of sight.

It feels like all his energy fades with with.

Panting, he slides to the floor, his limbs feeling like lead and his head swimming with fog. His head falls to the side slightly, but he can see that the door is right in front of him.

Danny tries to reach for it but all that does is cause him to tumble over. There is a dull ache on his chin and chest, as he lays there on the ground breathing heavily, and small black dots start to appear in his vision.

He is likely going to pass out soon from his core's backlash. Danny can't afford that. Not until he's safely away from the Manor and back in his cave.

How in the world did he even get out of his cave? How did he end up here?

All questions he'll have to answer later.

Planting his forearms before himself and pushing one leg slightly to the side, Danny lifts himself up. He lets his legs relax, making sure they don't drag behind him, as he shifts one arm forward and then another, crawling towards the door in the army crawl his mom should him.

He makes it to the door in what feels like hours but is probably seconds. His hands reach upward to launch onto the door handle with all his strength. to heave it open.

There is a moment of pure unadulterated joy that he was able to get this far when Danny encounters a slight problem. There is a force field right inside the doorway.

He figures this out when he slams into an invisible wall. A startled yelp is ripped from his throat as he stumbles back, blinking owlishly at the flickering force field light that gleams and ripples mockingly at him.

For half a second, he thinks that one of his siblings had pranked him by putting up plastic wrap to have him walk into it.

Except for the man in a brown trench coat who is staring down at him with an open mouth.

"Brucie!" Bruce shouts pushing the stranger out of the way to kneel down. "What happened?"

"He activated my wares to keep out spirits....or in this case keep them in?" Trench coat is staring at Danny with a strange expression. It seems like a cross between intrigued and weary. "What are you?"

"I already told you, this is my counterpart from a different universe," Bruce says helping Danny into a sitting position. "We confirmed it the first night he was here. Both DNA and our multi-universal tests came back positive."

"Batty, I highly doubt you have the technology to test for dimension travelers-"

"I do. I used it on every Flash I have ever come across, every time I see them."

"......I know I call you batty but honestly Batty that's alarming."

Danny's eyes flicker between them before he activates his intangibility. It's an ability that doesn't require his full form, however just as he's starting to slip through Bruce's fingers his legs slam against a similar field just a few inches from the floor.

His knees pop loudly and Danny screeches.

"Brucie!"

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that. My wards are all around us. I put them up after finding your cave drenched in otherworld energy. Figured I was protecting you not capturing you."

Danny's yanks his legs up, trying to crawl away from the man. Bruce throws an arm in front of him and Danny foolishly presses himself into the older man's back, trying to shield away from the very alarmingly competent Ghost Hunter.

"You leave him alone. He is not a threat. He is just a civilian boy who happens to be a meta" Bruce's voice is low and dangerous. Danny has never heard him speak like that, even while dressed as Batman.

"Batty, whatever that is, it is certainly not a civilian let alone a boy. The amount of will it took just to keep my wards up by him hitting against them by accident is nothing to sneeze at." Trench Coat insists, pulling out a stone with a strange marking on it. Danny squints at the symbols and then gasps when he recognizes them.

ᛙᛁ⸜⸍ˎ⸜ᛍ╵╮ˎ◟ᛍ╵

It's Fenton Works spelled out in runes, medieval runes to be exact. Danny knows because Jazz and he had a bonding phase where they translated the family name and business. They would carve the symbols into hundreds of wood plates, to bond with their aunt.

"Yeah, even the Witch Boy flinched at this seal." The man smirks, holding out the plat as if he were warding off a spirit. Danny cowers more behind Bruce."You have no idea what I had to trade to get this"

"What the hell are you doing?" Tim's voice cuts through the tension. He is standing in the doorway, arms crossed and face dark. Behind him are the rest of the Waynes. None of them are looking friendly.

"Constantine." Bruce growls. "You are on thin ice. Backdown. Now".

"Not to be disrespectful Batty, but that thing is-"

"His name is Bruce Wayne, You will do well to remember it. " Damian cuts in. The blond man holding- his own carving?- tilts his head.

"But that's not your name is it?" He asks Danny, who swallows. He presses closer to Bruce and watches the Waynes slowly circle Constantine. It's obvious they are about to jump him and Danny-

Danny realized that he may have tried to run but that obviously wasn't going to work. He couldn't hide either, because they found him.

He needed to come clean.

"Wait." He says, his voice stilling the room in a way that only those with complete control. He scoots to the right leaving Bruce's protection. "Wait. He's right. I'm not Bruce Wayne. My name is Danny Fenton. I've been lying to you all. I'm sorry."

"Fenton?" Constantine repeats confused but he doesn't get to continue because Bruce pulls him back behind him.

"You aren't lying. We knew you had a different name, you're still my counterpart."

What.

"Yeah Danny, we kind of knew from day one that you were a version of Bruce even if it was under a different name" Dick laughs. "You told Tim your real name a few days ago as well as your universe coordinates. We already confirmed its location and Tim is working on a ship for you."

What

"We knew. You Bruce." Cass says looking right at Danny. "We since the day we found you."

That's....not right at all.

"No. I'm Danny Fenton. I'm not a version of Bruce. I can prove it!" He shouts, throwing his hand on Bruce's back. He makes his core glow, knowing no two people could ever have the same one unless they are variants of timelines.

That's why Dani's core won't glow with him but Dan will.

Constantine nods his head "A core glow test. That will prove that you aren't Bruce and are something that's pretending to be him. Claiming to be part of the King's family is also a bold claim."

"Look ma I never claim to be part of some King's family I only-"

Twin blue and green glows burst from Danny's and Bruce's chest and Danny's words die on his tongue. Constantine drops his hand in shock.

"See? You are Brucie!" Dick laughs as if he hadn't just shattered Danny's entire world viewpoint. He could only gape at the group of people before Bruce placed a hand on his head.

"I'm sorry. If I had known you knew where your world was located we would have gotten you home to your parents weeks ago. You must have been so scared. Don't worry. We'll have you home soon."

Again and with great feeling, he will say what!?

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #cave boy #part 9 #Danny was actaully Bruce all along #Constantine sweating bullets that he threaten the King's family with the King #They found him and he was unconsious for days #Tim is building him a ship as a appology

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writersblockiskillingme · 2 months

Text

I Bet You Think About Me | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (District12!reader)

Summary: On the day of his wedding he had everything... except for the bride that he wanted.

Warning/s: angst, kind of like hurt/no comfort kind of thing, wedding, marriage without love, Coryo is drinking alcohol, reader is basically Lucy Gray in this situation, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I'M BACKK!! I missed writing so much, to be honest. All those Coryo and Lucy Gray edits to this song, plus the music video, inspired me to do this. Enjoy!

3 AM and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine

Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine

And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree

And I'll bet your friends tell you she's better than me, huh

Coriolanus Snow. The young president of Panem. He truly now felt like he had everything. He did an outstanding job as the Gamemaker. In fact, not long after, his work was praised so much that he could finally take that last step to get what he always, truly wanted. And he, in fact, did it. He was the newest president of Panem, and he knew that that was going to last for a very long time.

He had the title. He had the riches. He never had to starve ever again. He never had to wear poorly made clothes. He had the trust of the people in the Capitol, and he had the control of those in the Districts.

But as a president, everyone expected of him to choose his First Lady of Panem as quicklyaspossible, and he knew that it couldn't be just anybody.

So here he was today. Dressed up in a traditional but quite modern black tuxedo with a white undershirt and a purely white rose tucked into his suit on the right side of his chest. Standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, preparing his wedding speech that he will have to say once he and Livia Cardew are standing on the aisle.

Livia Cardew. She was truly perfect for him. He didn't love her, of course, but that was also his own choice. That's what made her perfect for him.

Once he was forced to find himself a bride because every elite in the Capitol kept pushing, he realized that he truly had no choice. He had to keep up his reputation respectable. So, of course, he knew that his wife, the Future Lady of the Panem, couldn't be just anybody.

Livia Cardew was rich. Her family was too, of course. Their family was respected and considered quite important. Plus, she was pretty. He couldn't really deny that, really.

He chose power, money and reputation that Livia had instead of the love, kindness and compassion that came with you.

He chose it that day that he left you in the woods of District 12. He never knew what happened to you. Did you die? Did you manage to run away in the storm that somehow messed up his head. And perhaps High-as-a-kite-Bottom was telling him some sort of truth when he said that mysteries had a way of driving people mad. And perhaps, if he stayed with you, he would marry someone for love.

Coriolanus let out a groan, shaking his head in a poor attempt to shake those thoughts away. His love for you made him weak. Weak in a way that he never wanted to experience ever again.

Livia didn't have his heart like you did. He doesn't love her. Therefore, he shall never feel weak ever again. He wanted that. He wanted to never love Livia. It was easy, though. It was easy not falling in love with her. Easy compared to you.

But no! He simply refused to think about you on this day. The day of his wedding. He refused the thoughts of you to consume his mind once again. Coriolanus wouldn't let that happen.

So he turned back to the giant mirror that stood in front of him and started to go over his vows once again.

"My darling Livia. You are the most beautiful person I have every encountered." Coriolanus felt his breath shorten at his own lies. "And today, I am honored to be your husband."

It was so fake. It was so cheesy. It was so untrue.

He had to prepare the speech for his bride. For the bride that he never loved.

"Mr. President?" One of the servants came in and addressed him shortly. "It's time."

"I will be there shortly." Coriolanus replied coldly, and the servant closed the door behind him.

Once the door was closed shut once again, he let out a quite loud sigh. In just a few minutes Livia will become a Snow and he will have to proudly show off his little wife that tormented and made fun of him for years during his academy days.

With that thought, President Coriolanus Snow stepped forward towards the door. On the doorway, he lingered. He looked out of the window across his room. He looked out on the city of the Capitol and its glamor and riches and he once again came to a realization that Livia was a perfect fit for his lifestyle unlike you. But he won't ever think of you again.

With the thoughts of you that once again swarmed his head, he loudly closed the door behind himself. Slamming it shut.

Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles

Yeah, they let me sit in back when we were in love

Oh, they sit around talkin' 'bout the meaning of life

And the book that just saved 'em that I hadn't heard of

After the priest said everything that needed to be said and after Coriolanus, and Livia, did everything that needed to be done the young, freshly married couple walked towards the reception, quickly being surrounded by the Capitol's elite that eagerly introduced themselves like they were one of the most important people there.

Perhaps they were, not that Coriolanus cared even a slightest bit.

Livia was standing in the middle of the circle made by the numerous Capitol's elite while he was standing next to her, a glass of posca in his hand. He knew that drinking that liquid in his glass was not the smartest thing for him considering the fact that the alcoholic drink was perhaps a bit too strong.

Not like he considered it worth giving a damn. He needed something very strong to wash away the feeling of Livia Snow's lips on his once the priest said that he can now kiss his bride.

And now, as he took yet another sip from the tall glass, he still felt disgusted by her. Himself. The whole situation.

A few more minutes, that to Coriolanus felt like hours, passed by. The people's excited chatter. The joy of the new President and the Panem's First Lady was over-the-top evident on everyone's face, except for his.

Livia was bathing in attention that were given to her, smiling, quite pleased with the whole situation. Coriolanus felt like he was going to throw up as he watched the scene unfold in front of him as he, too, had to pretend to be happy with everything.

And perhaps it was to much of the posca that he drowned that night or perhaps it was all of the whiteness of the entire reception that made him think what he thought. Hear what he heard.

As he took another sip from the glass, he could have sworn that he heard that melodic voice that haunted both his dreams and his worst nightmares.

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet you couldn't believe

When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And I bet you think about me

Coriolanus watched with wide eyes as you stood a few feet away from him, dressed in the blood-red dress that reached the floor barely as it hugged your frame perfectly. You, in your red dress, stood out so perfectly among the white clothes that every guest was required to wear. You stood out so much, he wondered how nobody but him noticed you.

You stood tall and proud by the enormously big wedding cake, which required the front door to be taken away so it could be placed where it was. Snow remembered watching the staff bringing in the cake, the door laying on the grass behind the servant as they carried the said cake. It was ridiculous.

You turned towards the cake, not noticing his ever so blue eyes trailing on you as you moved.

Coriolanus felt his breath shorten once again as he watched your everlasting beauty. He was suddenly very aware of the cool glass that contained posca in his hand and the cold sweat that was sliding down his spine. Was it panic? Was it anticipation? He didn't know.

He watched you as you stretched your hand out towards the top of the cake as you stood on the gigantic table where it was placed, your red heels clicking as you did so.

Suddenly, you knocked over two figures, one of himself and one of Livia dressed up for their wedding. He let out a quiet, barely audible, gasp as you did so and then slowly lowered yourself to the ground.

A little girl, dressed in white, a guest, appeared you as Coriolanus watched. You quickly froze, standing completely still. After a very short while, you slid your finger over the icing of the cake and put the finger in your mouth, tasting the cake.

The little girl smiled and did the same. You and the girl shared the smile before you struck your hand into the cake, ripping one piece out revealing the red color under the purely white cake before you shoved it into your mouth, eating it. The little girl ran off after getting the taste of the delicious cake as you chewed on your piece.

As you did so, Coriolanus and you established eye contact. You made a grimace that clearly indicated that you were disappointed that you had been caught.

Coriolanus Snow allowed himself to blink for a moment to compose himself, and once he re-opened, you were gone.

You grew up in a silver-spoon gated community

Glamorous, shiny, bright Beverly Hills

I was raised on a farm, no, it wasn't a mansion

Just livin' room dancin' and kitchen table bills

Coriolanus and Livia sat down at the front of the reception as the entertainer did his job. He entered the guests of the Capitol’s elite with the microphone in his hand, tight grip on it, which showed Coriolanus that he was nervous.

Coriolanus brushed it off because, all things considered, he was doing quite a good job. He even found himself laughing along to the jokes that were being made.

After one more joke, he turned to one of the Capitol’s elite to quietly, with a smile on his face, discuss the joke that was made. However, the moment he turned back around, his smile disappeared at the sight in front of him.

You were standing there, in a red suit, with a red microphone on your hands, making jokes.

"And then," you spoke in the fit of giggles. "He left me in the woods to die after he told me he loved me."

You laughed after it, and every single Capitol’s elite followed. Coriolanus felt like he wanted to die at that moment, the look of pure horror planted onto his face.

"And best of all was that he HIMSELF tried to kill me with a gun!" You smiled as you tapped a few times on the table near Livia as you pointed at him with a smile, and every single guest of the wedding reception broke into laughter once again.

This can't be real, can it? Coriolanus thought to himself as he watched you.

But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for

And you and I fell like an early spring snow

But reality crept in, you said we're too different

You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes

After that, you, out of nowhere, pulled out a little red box as you made your way towards Livia, who was looking at you with anticipation and excitement.

You handed her your gift as Coriolanus found it harder and harder to breathe.

Livia quickly, but gracefully, opened the box as she removed the ribbon on top.

And as she pulled out the shawl that belonged to Coriolanus' mother, he felt like he was going to scream at the top of his lungs.

It was the shawl that Coriolanus gifted to you back when the two of you took off into the woods. That was the only thing that he found once he started to chase you through the woods. He never found you, though.

Livia placed it around her as she thanked you for the gift. Everyone around you swooned at your sweet gesture as they clapped pleasingly.

You bowed your head down slowly after you drowned the glass of alcohol, falling into the crowd of guests. Disappearing once again.

Now you're out in the world, searchin' for your soul

Scared not to be hip, scared to get old

Chasin' make-believe status, last time you felt free

Was when none of that shit mattered 'cause you were with me

Coriolanus chased after you, trying to catch you. He was suddenly blinded by the light because of the photographer that was taking pictures.

After the photographer went away, Coriolanus rubbed his eyes as his vision, thankfully, turned back to normal. He looked ahead.

And there you were. In a while wedding dress. The back of the dress was trailing behind you. The dress was also graced by white roses all over it. Your hair was in a type of hairstyle that was holding it all up. Your eyes were watching his every move as you stood in front of him.

Coriolanus felt like he couldn't breathe, and so, for a moment, he felt himself longing to cherish every moment of this.

It was just like Coriolanus had imagined it. You as his bride, himself as your groom. It was everything that he truly needed. Everything he ever wanted. Just you and him. You two of you having your first dance as a freshly married couple.

Suddenly, all lights but one went away. The white light above you shined as Coriolanus tried to catch his breath.

He slowly stepped forward, and you immediately followed his lead. Soon, you were standing in front of each other. Chest to chest. So intimate. So perfect.

He slowly reached for your hand, placing it onto his as he soaked up the feeling of your soft skin against his.

He slid his other hand around your waist, bringing you closer to him as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. For a moment, everything stood still. For a moment, the only thing that Coriolanus could hear was his breathing and the beating of his heart.

Coriolanus and you leaned your foreheads against each other, noses brushing. Coriolanus closed his eyes. He never wanted this to end. Then you started to dance.

You were moving with such grace as he spinned you around. His hand in yours as you slided around the dance floor.

"Coryo," your soft voice that whispered in his ear broke the peaceful silence, and his eyes snapped to yours. His eyes. His ocean blue eyes that were always so cold now looked at you with so much gentleness and pure adoration.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my love." Coriolanus answered without any hesitation.

"Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for was the love that you had?"

Coriolanus was speechless. The look in your eyes caused the lump in his throat to be stuck there forevermore. He didn't say anything. He didn't protest to your claim. How could he? You were right. On the day of his wedding, he wished to marry you, not Livia. He never found in Livia what he did in you, and he, let's be honest, never will.

Suddenly, before he could stop you, you moved away from him, letting go of his hand and shoulder.

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet it's hard to believe

But it turned out I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And, yeah, I bet you think about me

You lifted the front of your dress a little bit so you could walk without tripping over. You gazed over your shoulder at Coriolanus before you continued to walk away.

Once you were far away from him, you turned around, quickly causing your hair to fall down your shoulders as you leaned towards him.

All of a sudden, your dress turned red, and as you took a hold of your guitar that he knew all too well (hihi, get it?) the white roses on your dress were painted red.

The white curtain behind you fell, revealing the red light and the Covey as you played your guitar, softly swaying to the music you made.

"I hope you get what you deserve, Coriolanus Snow," you spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more. "But I don't need to worry. You will get what you deserve one day."

With a soft smile, you started to sing.

I bet you think about me when you're out

At your cool indie music concerts every week

I bet you think about me in your house

With your organic shoes and your million-dollar couch

I bet you think about me when you say

"Oh my God, she's insane, she wrote a song about me"

I bet you think about me 🌹

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