#ok so this isn’t the fic i was talking about but i might as well post this now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Thirteen Rounds

Pairing: Boxer!Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut smut smut smut smut! sex ban smut lmao; established relationship

Summary: JK's boxing coach tells him he can't come for four weeks before his title fight. Ah, four weeks isn't that long, right? ... Right?

Word count: 13.2k

Content: oral sex (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation (f.), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sex toys, uh implied come eating? (It's not mentioned but he comes in her then eats her out sooooo it's happening 😂), cutesy nicknames that honestly even make me cringe these days lmaooo

A/N: as I said in a post earlier today, this hit 6k notes on the old blog and I know crowing about notes is tacky and no one cares (and even I don't care! That's not why I'm here!), but I never really got to celebrate this fic when I posted it and it took the fuck off. So here's to another 6k 🤪🤪🤪

FOUR WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook walks slowly, very slowly, down the corridor to the door of your apartment. He does not want to go through it. He really doesn’t want to have to tell you what he’s about to.

Four weeks no sex.

That’s what Coach said. No sex, no masturbation, orgasms 100% completely verboten. He knows this is not going to go down well with you. From the very start of your relationship, you have never gone that long without sex. Jungkook isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it; he’s not sure if you will be either. A tiny part of him worries what it might do to your relationship – you’re stronger than that, aren’t you? This won’t hurt your relationship, will it? You’ve been together for years now, four weeks without sex can’t change anything… Right? Jungkook knows in his heart of hearts that it’s right but the thought of four weeks without you is so unutterably awful that he also can’t believe it won’t change things.

He flops face-first onto the sofa next to you and squirms immediately as you rake a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. Absolutely none of that from now on.

“You ok?” you ask and he can’t answer because the answer is no and he’s not going to be for another four weeks, another 29 days in fact. He mumbles nothing into the sofa.

“Just tired? Training hard today?”

Training wasn’t hard, especially. This conversation we’re about to have is hard, Jungkook thinks. Keeping his face shoved into the sofa cushion, he breaks the news.

“Jungkook,” slight impatience in your voice now. “I cannot understand you when you talk into the sofa; what’s going on?”

He lifts his head slightly but can’t bring himself to look at you.

“Coach says we can’t have sex until the fight.”

“WHAT?”

“We can’t have sex until the fight,” he repeats, quietly, miserably.

He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, still not daring to look at you.

“But that’s four weeks away! Four weeks!”

“I know!”

He takes your hand and kisses it, leaning up on his elbows. He rests his head on your thigh, bumping it gently as if he were hitting it against a brick wall. He mumbles under his breath, as close as he ever got to invective against his Coach (whom he nevertheless trusts and respects deeply). You’re being quieter than he expected you to be and it makes him nervous. He expected outraged protestations, reasoned arguments, begging and pleading. But you’re sitting and thinking.

“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”

“He says it’ll improve my focus, power, and aggression if I don’t come between now and then…”

You hum in response and he risks a peek at your face. You’re smirking and something about it makes his stomach drop.

“So… You can’t come, but I can do whatever I want, hm?”

He hadn’t considered that. Of course, that makes sense; you’re not wrong, but Jungkook realises this with absolute horror. Not being able to fuck you for four weeks was going to be bad enough as it is, but four weeks of getting you off without a single second of relief for him? He feels sick.

“Noooo! Baby, please. Please, you have to do this with me.”

It’s not his usual role, but he is not above begging. You shake your head.

“No way; four weeks is a long time and I’m not fighting anyone.”

“I know it’s a long time! That’s why we have to do it together!”

“On the contrary, my sweet, little biscuit, the whole point is that we don’t do it together, isn’t it?”

You lean down and kiss his nose but it is of no comfort. He’s pouting now, both furious and devastated at this turn of events. When you start running your hands through his hair again and his dick twitches, he groans; this will kill him, he thinks. Stone cold dead, this is going to kill him. He holds your hand tight and looks at you, finally, dead in the eye, eyes wide and pleading, his absolute best puppy dog.

“Please,” he begs. “Please.”

“Why don’t we have one last night?” you suggest and Jungkook groans because he knows that tone. “You can start tomorrow. One night won’t make a difference, surely?”

You slide down the sofa until your faces are almost level and Jungkook is about to rest his head where your thigh was, but discovers your breast in its place. He holds still. This is his first test and, while you might have a point, he’s got rules to follow and he can’t break now, not at the very first hurdle. He’s got better self-control than that, hasn’t he?

“Hm?” you continue. “Start tomorrow… Come on, Kookie, please.”

He wants to say yes, of course he does, but if he’s going to last four weeks, he’s going to have to practise saying no.

You slide off the sofa onto your knees on the floor and he eyes you carefully. You’re dangerous and you know it. When you trail your fingers down his spine and kiss the back of his neck, he shivers.

“I want you so badly,” you whisper in his ear and he groans. You slip your hand underneath his T-shirt and he’s sticky with sweat. “I didn’t have you yesterday and now we have to go four weeks? Kookie, I can’t take it… Be good to me, Jungkook, please.”

He loves it when you beg. Hearing his name in your mouth all high and whiny, tremulous with need and desire. If he wasn’t hard before, he is now. Goosebumps follow your hand on his back and he shivers, groaning into the sofa, fists clenched again.

“My love, stop it, please. We can’t.” His voice is weak and he can’t believe how weak he’s feeling; if you persist might longer, he genuinely feels he might snap and he’s ashamed that his self-control is apparently all but non-existent. He must do better.

“But I’m so wet already.”

Fuck. He snaps. He kneels up and looks at you, your innocent, little face, a devil in disguise. If you’re just playing with him, just teasing, you’re going to be in big trouble.

“Get up,” he commands, slapping the sofa. You obey without hesitation and he grabs you by the legs, pulling so you’re falling onto your back. He tells him yourself you were lying, of course you won’t be wet; you’re just teasing him and he’ll tell you off and ask you to take this seriously and it’ll all be fine. Then he yanks down your trousers and your underwear.

“FUCK.”

He brings his hands to his face and rubs.

“Fuck, I thought you were lying just to tease me, but fuck, you really are.”

You are. Looking at you is almost painful; he’s desperate to touch you. You’re right there in front of him, legs spread, and all he has to do is touch you. But he can’t. If he starts, he won’t be able to stop. He shuffles back away from you slightly, hands moving to reach you and then pulling back. He swears again.

When you spread your legs wider and shuffle yourself down closer to him, he has to stand. He has to do something with his hands: clenching at his sides, on his hips, on his head, over his face. He’s pacing, too, unable to look at you once again. It would be all too easy to take his own trousers off, let his dick out of its cloth prison and fuck you into the sofa. He has to bite down on his knuckles to stop himself doing just that.

“Kookie,” you coo. “Aren’t you going to touch me? I need you… No one touches me like you do.”

Jungkook is open-mouthed and he has to turn away. He growls, deep in his throat, and gently places his fists on the kitchen counter, when what he really wants to do is smash straight through it. His whole body is tense, fighting itself in an agony of indecision. He needs you to stop; he’s sure you won’t. Not when you’re having this effect on him. He should’ve seen it coming. He knew you wouldn’t take the news well; for some reason, he didn’t expect you to immediately be so defiant. You were always so pliant and obedient for him. But then, this isn’t really his rule and you and his coach didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye.

He freezes when he hears the unmistakeable squelch of you plunging your fingers in your wet heat. Then you moan. Then you whimper.

“Jungkook, please.”

He can barely control his breathing as he stands, still with his back to you, unable to block the sound of you from his ears. He should be the one drawing those moans from you; he should be the reason your breathing is hitched.

He decides quickly that you have a point. He can’t come but that doesn’t mean he can’t do anything he likes. He crosses the space to the sofa in three large steps and forces your hand away from you. He doesn’t see the expression on your face as you look up; he’s too busy staring at his next meal. He squeezes your thighs hard and lowers his mouth to you.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe and it goes straight to his dick.

He moans loudly as he licks from your core to your clit, drinking you in. He licks through your folds, not wanting to miss a drop. He swirls his tongue around your clit before sealing his lips and sucking hard; you grab at his hair and he flicks his eyes to you but your head is tipped back, your back arching off the sofa. He pulls your thighs, bringing you even closer, smothering him, burying him but if he can’t breathe, he doesn’t notice. He notices the pitch of your whines tilt; he notices your breath come quicker; he notices your thighs twitching under his hands; he notices you tugging harder and harder at his hair. He watches you as he works, alternately swirling his tongue across your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking, until you’re screaming, your body writhing, shuddering under the waves of your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears repeatedly, almost sure he hears you saying the same, but he can’t move his mouth from your lips; all that fresh arousal dripping from you has his name on it.

You squirm and bring your legs together, your feet pushing against his shoulders and he relents, shifting backwards but still gripping your thighs tight.

“I love you,” he says. “I love you, I love you but fuck, I fucking love your cunt.”

His hands move higher, his thumbs spreading your lips, running up and down, the slick noises they make like music to his ears. He whines as he drops his head to your thigh with a heavy sigh. He squeezes his eyes tight shut for a moment, trying not to lose all control even as his cock aches in his pants, desperate for you.

While he’s trying to keep it together, you extricate yourself from his grip and sink onto the floor. While he’s off-guard, you spread his legs and slot yourself between them. It’s only when his dick jumps as you slide your hands up his thighs that he realises what is happening. He leaps up and away from you in one, quick, fluid motion.

“No, no, no,” he mutters, hands tangling in his hair, twisting his T-shirt, gripping the kitchen counter, anything to stop them wandering to the bulge in his trousers. He’s painfully hard now, twitching with almost no provocation; his restraint is hanging by a thread.

“Jungkook,” you call for him, still kneeling on the floor. “Kookie, come here, let me help you.”

He growls and takes a deep breath. If he even looks at you right now, he knows he’ll snap.

“I’m going to shower.”

He has to get out, get away from you, anywhere will do.

“You better not wank in there!” you call after him. “Or I’m going to be really upset!”

He chuckles bitterly; as if he would ever choose his hand over your sweet mouth. He strips quickly and steps into the shower, turning the temperature as low as it’ll go and the power on full blast. He gasps as a strong stream of icy water hits him; he shudders and shivers and forces himself to stand still. He’s panting and his skin turns red under the blast but he can’t move, not until he’s flaccid, not until he’s stopped thinking about your beautiful pussy and your soft, hot mouth and no-! Enough of this. He calls to mind all his least favourite things, conjuring up the worst images he can, disgusting, horrible, anything. He just has to stop thinking about you.

When he’s finally showered and clean and soft, he leaves the bathroom. It’s not late, but you’re already sitting up in bed, naked as you always are, and he groans, trying to avoid looking at you.

“Hey now, that’s not fair,” you tell him, sulking with an exaggerated pout as he takes the towel from his waist and rubs it over his hair.

He almost chokes on his indignation.

“Not fair? Me not being fair? And what do you call that, out there? Is that fair, huh? And this?” He gestures to you, chest on display, arms just slightly squeezing your breasts together, as if you think he won’t be able to tell. “Is this fair?”

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he sits next to you on the bed; he simply will not survive the next four weeks if he can’t get you on-side. He has to stop you reaching out to touch his cheek; he’s only just been able to lose his erection, he’s not sure he can manage another.

“I’m serious, y/n, I cannot do this.”

He’s not sure he can look at you anymore. The thought of spending a whole night next to your naked form, your soft skin pressed against him… He can’t. He can’t even think it without feeling a stir in his groin.

“I can’t do this. I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”

Never in his life has he been more grateful to have one. He’d sleep on the sofa or the floor if he had to, but, if he’s doing all this to improve his fighting, he needs to keep his sleep up, too.

“Jungkook! Don’t leave me!”

When he risks a look at you, you’re wide-eyed and open-mouthed, dismayed. He doesn’t ever want to be the cause of that face; his heart aches. Maybe this would affect your relationship after all. He returns to sit on the edge of the bed and takes your hand. He kisses your palm.

“I can’t- I… I can’t even look at you, right now, without wanting to jump you.” He says quietly, sadly. “I just-“

“I can put some clothes on?”

Your hopeful face squeezes his heart and he wishes that would be enough.

“No, baby, thank you but we both know that isn’t going to help. I know what’s under there.”

“So, we’re not even going to be able to sleep together for the next four weeks?”

“No, we will, I promise. I just… Right now, I just need to get away from you.”

He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, but fails. He misses you already.

“Can I at least kiss you goodnight?”

Jungkook isn’t sure. He’s not sure the one thread of sanity he’s clinging to will last, but he has to give you something.

“Of course, you can,” he answers, with only a little hesitation. “But please… Be nice…”

You take his face in his hands and he shivers. You kiss him once, firmly, and then again, softly, sighing against his mouth. He wants to wrap his arms around you and kiss you again, wants to melt into your mouth and roll your tongue with his. Then he feels temptation in his groin and has to pull away.

“Night night, my little custard cream.”

“Night night, my love.”

He leaves, and shuts himself in the spare room, wondering just how on earth either of you will make it through the next 29 days.

THREE WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook isn’t home so you’re taking the opportunity for a little Me Time (courtesy of your favourite rabbit). It’s been a week since the last time you came (courtesy of Jungkook) and you’re on edge. You feel a little guilty for the way you behaved, but you’ve been good this week in penance, even though you’re already missing him terribly.

At night, when he wraps himself around you, his hard chest against your back, his strong arms holding you tight, you feel a steady pulse in your core. You want desperately to shift, just push your hips back a little, bring his hand to cup your breast, do something to address your need of him. It’s worse than usual because, of course, you always want most what you can’t have. Isn’t that a universal truth? Last night, you even wished he would go and sleep in the spare room again; having him so close to you, knowing that you can’t touch him like you wanted to was beginning to get unbearable.

Hence, Me Time.

Jungkook is out and not due back soon so you have plenty of time to take things slow. Or at least, that’s what you intend. You take a nice, long, hot bath; apply your favourite body lotion: a rich, thick, cocoa butter that makes you feel expensive; you potter around the apartment for a while in your sexiest lingerie – there’s no one to see you, but it makes you feel sexy anyway. You think about Jungkook. You think about his hair, too short for your preference at the moment; you like it a little longer, a little wavier, giving you plenty to grab onto at the nape of his neck just as at the crown; you like it when it flops into his face and he pushes it back; you like when he lets you plait it and style it, just for the two of you, just for fun.

You think about his beautiful, brown eyes: huge and wide, bright and shining, so open and innocent. You think about the way he looks at you sometimes, like you’re his entire world, like he’s looking at the most beautiful, peaceful sight he’s ever seen. You think about the way he looks at you at other times: like you’re prey; like he’s calculating exactly the right way to destroy you; his eyes dark, black, piercing; eyes that silently command and will be obeyed.

You think about his mouth: his soft, pink lips and two straight rows of perfect white teeth; you think about his mouth on yours, the unyielding pressure of his lip ring, the hard bite of his teeth on your bottom lip, his soft, wet tongue rolling against yours; his soft, wet tongue swirling around your nipple; his soft, wet tongue licking through your folds, flicking across your clit, his lips tight around you as he sucks. You think about his long fingers, their reach; his strong hands and how they direct and control you, pinning you down and lifting you up.

You think about his cock, the prettiest you’d ever seen (though you weren’t surprised, given the rest of him); in perfect proportion, neither too long nor too thick, a slight, gentle curve, smooth but for one thick vein running the length of it. It makes your mouth water just to think of it; your pussy throbs, missing it and you settle on the bed. You can feel the crotch of your underwear is already sticky and your heart is already thumping but you’re still telling yourself that you’re going to take this slowly, because you have plenty of time.

You discard your bra, teasing your nipples beneath it, twisting at the barbells that run through each of them, remembering the way Jungkook had reacted the first time he saw them, as if it were Christmas morning and they were a brand-new puppy and a skateboard. You slip a hand down behind the waistline of your knickers and exhale sharply as you spread your juices across your clit. You’re aching now, with desire, with frustration but you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You let your fingers work slowly, gently, dipping down between your lips to your entrance, exploring your folds, teasing and tapping your clit. It was almost like stepping into a bath: enveloped in warmth as blood rushed to the surface of your skin, cocooned in pleasure as it radiates outwards from your core to the tips of your toes. Goosebumps spread as a shiver rushes down your spine.

Then you get out your rabbit and the lube and shuffle out of your underwear. You coat the toy with lube, wipe your hand against yourself and turn it on, letting it rest against you for a moment, cycling through the settings until you reach your favourite. You think, not for the first time, as you slip it inside you, smoothly, easily, how much you wish you had one of these moulded from Jungkook’s cock. He thought you were joking the first time you said it, but you weren’t then and aren’t now. You want to be able to have him inside you even when he wasn’t around – or at times like this when he is around but isn’t allowed inside you. Nothing compares to him and while this toy might get the job done, it will never be the same.

The little rabbit ears press intently against your clit as you angle it inside you and start to rock your hips, working out a long, soft moan. You tip your head back and close your eyes, focusing on the coiling pressure in your abdomen. You cycle to another setting – higher, faster, more insistent now – and whimper with every breath as your climax comes closer.

“God, I’ve missed that noise.”

You sit up with a jolt to see Jungkook at the bedroom door, eyes roving hungrily over your naked body.

“Jungkook,” you gasp. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans.”

He shrugs.

“Changed ’em... Though I might be sorry I did.”

“I thought you were going to be out... But since you’re here...”

You beckon him to the bed as you switch off the toy. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a sigh as he approaches you on the bed. You’re surprised; you thought he would refuse, hold back, protest even a little. Maybe this would be easier than you thought.

He looks at the rabbit, appraising.

“How does it compare, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a smirk just ghosting over his lips.

“It doesn’t, Kookie.” You flop backwards onto the mattress again. “Nothing compares to you.”

“Let me help you.”

You sigh with relief, waiting to hear his trousers unzip or the shuffle of cloth as he undresses but it doesn’t come. Instead, you hear the quiet whirring of vibration as Jungkook turns the rabbit back on. He chooses a different setting – short, intense pulses – and slips the toy back inside you, pushing the ears hard into your clit, forcing a choked moan from your throat.

“Jungkook... Kookie, no. I want you.”

The look on his face is fierce but softens when he looks into your eyes. He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear.

“You know you can’t have me now, baby. Stop playing dirty.”

He takes a hand and pushes low on your stomach as he rocks the toy inside you and changes the setting: insistent, hard vibration that almost sets your teeth chattering.

“Fuck,” you whisper as your walls start to clench and all your muscles tighten and you’re whimpering, mewling, seconds from climax, your breath catching in your throat. You’re a band stretched to its limits and just as you’re about to snap, Jungkook pulls the toy from you and sits back on the bed, not touching you.

“Wh-.. I...”

You look at him, dazed and confused, as he stands up and takes the toy with him out of the room.

“Where are you going?” you call after him, your voice weak and strangled.

You’re itching with frustration and impatience and when he returns, only a minute later, you turn to him, outraged. He’s empty-handed and he sits on the edge of the bed next to you and tucks your hair behind your ear sweetly.

“What are you doing?” you ask, still breathless, heart still pounding in your chest.

He leans closer to you, resting on his forearm on your chest, lightly crushing you beneath his weight as he takes your hand in his and directs it to his crotch, where you can feel his dick, semi-hard under his trousers.

“I’m showing you how hard this is,” he whispers menacingly in your ear. “You’re still not playing fair, little miss.”

He stands and walks out of the room, looking back over his shoulder at you.

“If I don’t get to come, you don’t get to come!” he calls.

You give a little, angry shriek and throw a pillow at him, which misses by miles, and you storm out after him.

“I did not sign up for that!” you shout, giving him a shove.

He grins at you and raises his eyebrows.

“What’s mine is yours, baby.”

“No way! No way! You know the second you leave, I can just make myself come.”

“That’s true,” he admits as he checks his watch, “but I’m not leaving again tonight.”

Furious now, you move closer to him, your hands on his hips. You lick your lips and move a hand between you, palming his erection. His eyes flutter closed.

“Two can play at this game, Jeon,” you hiss, sliding your hand between his trousers and his boxers, running your finger up his turgid length.

“Don’t call me Jeon.”

“Isn’t it your name?”

He tips his head back and bites his lip as you finally breach his boxers, wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing lightly.

“You only call me Jeon when you’re pissed,” he chokes out.

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed.”

His head tips forward again and he looks at you as you sink to your knees, pulling his clothes down with him. You see him swallow hard.

“Not sure you thought this through, did you?” you ask, swiping your tongue across his head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum. “Here you are, all hard and ready for me...”

You take a hand through your lips, sweeping up your arousal and spreading it on the head of his dick.

“And me all ready for you...”

You wrap your lips around him and take him until he hits your throat, looking up at him through your lashes, then you come up and pause, just holding him in your mouth, your tongue running back and forth across the underside. Jungkook grunts and his eyelids flutter closed. You can see his fists clenching on either of him.

“Y/n...” he groans, quiet and strangled.

“Mm?” you hum, not taking him from your mouth, and you notice the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenches. “You started this,” you remind him, as you trail sloppy, wet kisses down the length of his hot, smooth cock. “I was going to be nice to you, but you had to go and spoil it.” You run your tongue flat across his balls as your hand continues to pump his shaft and he moans.

“Fuck, I miss you,” he whines, his voice high and tight as you run your tongue back to his head, enveloping him in your mouth once again. “God, fuck.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck, your hand and mouth moving as one. Jungkook’s fist moves to your hair, gripping tight, not directing you, just to have something to hold on to. As you push lower, tipping your head to take him into your throat, he jerks.

“No, no, no, stop! Stop.”

He pushes you back by the shoulders and stands, his breathing ragged, looking up at the ceiling and blinking hard. You let him stand there, recovering; you stay kneeling at his feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, each more aggressive than the last. He pulls his boxers and his trousers back on and looks at you, eyes wild. “No.”

“Kookie... Please.”

You pout up at him, put your hands on his thighs, and shuffle just an inch closer.

“No. Fuck, no, I can’t. I can’t.” He looks at you, alternately desperate and resolved and then shakes his head. “Baby, god, I want to. You know I want to. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

His hand is in your hair again, gently pulling you upwards, pulling you closer. He kisses your cheek and your lips, each little peck lasting a little longer than the last, until he just barely parts his mouth and you grab his bottom lip in your teeth. He moans and pulls away.

“No, no, no, no,” he whispers. “I can’t.” He swallows hard and looks skyward again, praying for strength. Then he repeats his no before stalking off into the spare room, cursing under his breath.

You sigh, more frustrated than ever, and, having spotted your stolen sex toy on the bathroom counter, you go back to finish what you started.

TWO WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook is sleeping in the spare room again. He says it’s because you’re not to be trusted, but what he means is that he isn’t to be trusted. He could barely trust himself around you before, but two weeks into the ban, he can’t risk taking any chances. Especially not with the way you’ve been behaving.

Apparently, so you tell him, there’s very little evidence to suggest that sex before a sporting event has as negative effect on performance.

“I even read,” you say, not for the first time, “that not having sex for a while lowers your testosterone so it’s not just that having sex isn’t bad, it might even be good! Don’t you want that?”

He’s trying to block you out. You’ve already told him this and he’s already told you that he’s doing as he’s told. He focuses on the TV, trying to get invested in the storyline, trying to care about the characters while you pester him relentlessly. He has to grit his teeth together and breathe carefully.

“Don’t ignore me, my little hobnob.”

You always pull out that biscuit when you think he needs to lighten up. He tries not to grin, not very successfully, because it’s such a ridiculous name – who calls a biscuit that, really? Then you slip your hands around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder.

“I miss you,” you say, kissing his shoulder and rubbing his back.

He sighs, dropping his head, carefully trying to revel in your touch without giving in too far.

“I miss you too, love. Just two more weeks.”

You sigh, aggravated, and sit back.

“Yeah, two more weeks; we’re only halfway through. We have to do all of this all over again. Is that really what you want?”

“No, of course it’s not!”

Of course, he doesn’t want it. What he wants is to pin you down and eat you out ’til you’re screaming and then he wants to fuck you like his life depends on it, spend himself on you so hard he literally can’t move. What he wants is the opposite of this. Why can’t you understand that?

He turns to you, shifting his body around and reaches for your hands.

“Of course, it’s not what I want. I want you all the time. Why do you think I’m sleeping in the spare room again? I can barely stand sitting with you like this; every part of me is screaming at me to just take yo-“

“Then do it! Do it! I’m telling you, the science is on our side!”

He has to take a deep breath; he knows you may well be right. And he doesn’t like the thought of doing all this for no reason, for, if the article you read is right, the possibility that he’s actually less strong, less powerful in the ring, but he’s on a path and he has to stick to it.

“I’m doing what Coach says,” he tells you, sounding more resolved than he is. “I hired him for a reason and he’s already said he can notice a difference. This fight is so important and I have to follow him to the letter. I am sorry. I am…”

He is what?

He puffs out his cheeks and sighs. He doesn’t know what to say. There aren’t words for this or, if there are, he doesn’t know them. He leans forward and grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. He knows he shouldn’t, knows how dangerous this is, but he misses you so much and he’s so upset and you’re so upset and he has to do something.

You scoot forward and sit yourself in his lap. His heart hammers in his chest, anxiety or desire or a heady mix of both, he’s not sure but his mind is slipping away from him and he’s not sure he cares anymore. He wraps his arms around you as his tongue finds yours. You’ve hardly had this much of each other over the last week and he’s ravenous. You moan into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue and he feels a stirring in his crotch. He can feel you, just above him, and he wants to push you down, roll your hips over his, but he daren’t; he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself if you do.

He's breathless with the need of you and it catches in his throat as you grind into him. He moans and bites hard at your bottom lip; you keep going, kissing him hard so that he can’t speak.

Jungkook gathers up his strength and pulls back, holding you tight in place so you can’t chase after him. He’s breathing heavily and his hand trembles as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Y/n…” He doesn’t know if it’s a plea or a warning; he doesn’t have any more words to follow. There isn’t anything he can say or do that will make this situation anything other than torture. Nothing will make you feel better than being fucked by him, fucked hard, nothing more and nothing less. He knows because he feels the same. He’s almost dizzy with desire; he’s giddy but clinging with desperation to the last remnants of his self-control. There’s a tiny voice at the back of his head proud of him for having come this far, but he can’t listen to it because we all know what comes before a fall and he can’t afford a fall like this.

It's the title. It’ll be his first title. This win will put him on the map. This win will establish him as a real, professional boxer, one to beat; this will be, he hopes, the first of many belts, many titles. His coach has real faith in him, he believes he can make it to world champion if he works hard enough. And Jungkook wants it. He wants to work; he wants to win. And now, he has to win. Losing is not an option. And once he has won, once this is over – in two, long, painful weeks – it’ll have all been worth it and he’ll be able to have you six ways from Sunday, every day of the week.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimper and the open, desperate pleading of your glistening eyes goes straight to his dick. “Please, please.”

He’s had to resist your pleading before; he’s even enjoyed resisting your cries and pleas, but that’s when he’s been in control; that’s when he’s been ramping up to wrecking you once, twice, three times, as many times as you can take. This is ramping up to nothing and your pleading only makes him feel broken.

You bring your face to his again and he can’t back away. You kiss him with urgency, running your hands over his body beneath his T-shirt, teasing his nipples until he’s fully hard, straining against his boxers, pressing against your crotch. You strip off your own top and Jungkook’s resolve crumbles. He dips his head, lifting you slightly from his lap to kiss your breasts, to flick his tongue over your nipples and swirl them in his mouth, one at a time, until they’re tight and hard. He bites hungrily and you mewl above him, whining his name. It’s like heaven to him and he can’t believe he hasn’t had this for two weeks; the two weeks stretching out in front of you are paling, forgotten in some faraway corner of his mind.

He's kidding himself that he can last a little longer with you lifted up like this, your hips no longer grinding your core into him. He keeps his mouth occupied at your chest and squeezes your glutes in his hands, then slipping them into the wide legs of your shorts. When he pulls your underwear to the side with one hand, and slips the fingers of his other hand into your warm, waiting slip, he sighs with satisfaction. You’re tight and soft and so, so wet.

You take his face in your hands and pull him back to your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and heavy breathing, messy and far from pretty but you’re each so desperate for the other that nothing else matters. You kiss his cheek and his jaw and bite down on his earlobe, whining breathily as he presses insistently against your front wall, each curl of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge. He slips his other hand behind your underwear and spreads your slick over your clit, rubbing insistently, knowing you’re getting close. He can tell by the sounds you’re making, sounds he’d work out of you every day of his life if he could.

“God, Kookie, baby, yes.”

You plant your lips on his neck, muffling your whines and whimpers as the heat builds inside you. Jungkook groans, shivering as you suck on his neck, as your cunt clenches his fingers tight, as your legs shake on either side of him. He doesn’t stop, can’t stop even when you’re tugging his hair, even when you’re squirming, even when you’re screaming his name. He’s far away now, lost in the bliss of your velvet heat. He’s insistent and you’re so sensitive that he pulls another orgasm from you with a cry and a shudder that takes your whole body. He’s so focused on you as a way of distracting himself from his own intense, aching desire. He’s painfully hard; he can feel the spreading circle of pre-cum on his boxers; he’s not entirely sure he won’t come even if you don’t touch him.

Then you flop against him, spent, and your hand grazes his crotch and he jerks violently.

“Fuck!” he gasps and tears prick in his eyes. He can’t look at you; he stares far away, out of the window, trying to stop his dick throbbing, trying to slow his heartrate, trying without success to calm himself.

“Kookie,” you whimper, your voice shaky. “Let me-“

“No,” he whispers, no strength in his voice, no strength anywhere in his body except his stiff, swollen cock. He closes his eyes and he can feel a tear trickle down his cheek, followed by your lips as you kiss it away. He flinches at the contact and whimpers when you stroke his hair.

“I can help you,” you whisper but he doesn’t hear you.

He’s lost, his mind strangled with desperate desire. His brain is whirring, swimming, floating away from him; his fingers tingle and shake and his heart thumps erratically in his chest. He’s never been this excruciatingly turned on before and knowing that he can’t see it through is heart-breaking.

You move your hand towards the waistband of his trousers and he grabs your wrist. He’s gripping so tightly, he’s sure it’ll hurt, but he can’t be gentle now.

“Don’t-,” he starts but his words are swallowed by a sob.

You press your forehead against his and he can’t stop the whimper as you kiss him, so light, so soft. He holds your face in his hands, barely even really touching, trying not to tangle them in your hair and pull you closer. You stay like that, just looking at each other for a minute or more, his eyes never leaving yours. He knows he needs to calm down, knows he should be calming down now that you’re still but his breathing doesn’t settle and he can hear the thump of his heart and the roar of his blood in his ears.

“Baby,” he says eventually, his voice croaky and hoarse. He has to do something and it has to be something drastic. He needs a shock to the system, a full reset. “I need-… I need you to get something for me.” And he needs you to get it because he’s not sure he can walk, not sure he can move at all.

“Anything.”

“Ice. And water.”

“Huh?”

“Ice and water; I need a big, big glass- a jug of iced water please.” His voice wobbles at the end and he’s trying so hard to regulate his breathing, trying so hard not to feel the pulsing in his underwear.

“Ok…”

You shift on his lap but he can’t let you go. His fingers twine in your hair and you have to pry them out to allow you to get up.

With the relief of you off him, the air around him clears and he jumps up, taking off his T-shirt and pushing his trousers to the floor. Once again needing to do something with his hands while he waits for you, he holds them out to the side, not daring to let them anywhere near his erection, fists clenching and unclenching. He feels like he might really be on the edge of a heart attack or an aneurysm. He feels abnormal, like nothing he’s ever felt before. He could keel over.

He can hear you, the ice clinking in the glass and he taps his feet, impatient. When you hand it over, he takes it with both hands and up-ends it all over himself.

“Jungkook!” you cry, as water splashes all over the floor and the sofa and the coffee table, but it sounds distant, the shock of the water temporarily sending him far away. He’s gasping and shivering and blinking hard, then screwing his eyes tight.

“I need you to go,” he tell you, still unable to look at you.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere, baby, literally anywhere,” his voice is still wobbling, his teeth chattering. “If we’re still in the same room in five seconds, I think I’m going to die. Come or die, either way, I don’t know but please, please just go.”

“Ok, I’m going, I’m going.”

He can barely hear you; he scrubs his hands over his face, swearing over and over and over again, begging the universe to let him calm down, to make these next two weeks go as quickly as they possibly can.

ONE WEEK TO GO

Jungkook hasn’t taken any more risks since that night. And he has also told you, almost every day since, to behave yourself, to stop doing that; he’s asked if you’re trying to kill him and the truth is: yes. You’re sick of it now; it takes almost nothing to get you hot: just the thought of him, randomly popping into your head as you’re trying to send emails at work, and you’re getting wet. You can’t sleep anymore. He’s still in the spare room but you lie in your bed, thinking about him lying in the other bed, and you can’t help yourself. You make yourself come again and again but it’s never enough. You can’t believe that he’s not only managed to ruin all other men for you but also your own damn self. You know how to push all your buttons but it’s not the same when it’s you doing it, it's not the same without Jungkook between your thighs.

You know there’s only a week to go, but it’s too long and you’re too frustrated and you’re reaching your boiling point. So, you do what any other sane person would do: naked protest. You stop wearing clothes in the house entirely, getting dressed only to go out and stripping as soon as the front door shuts behind you. When you first walk into the kitchen as Jungkook is eating breakfast, he chokes on his cereal and you have to slap him on the back; you feel his eyes following you as you make yourself a cup of tea and some porridge.

Now he’s just ignoring you. He’s doing his best to stay out of any room you are in, but that’s fine. It’s a small apartment and you’ve hidden his noise-cancelling headphones, so you know he can hear you when you moan and whine, wanton and gratuitous, as you do your best to fix your frustration.

He still hasn’t broken. You’re impressed, honestly. You didn’t think that he would be able to hold out this long and, as aggravated as you are, as deeply, unutterably frustrated as you are, you can’t help but admire his self-control. Unable to be in the same room as you, he texts you and tells you that his trainer is impressed with his performance and is confident about the fight; he believes he can win. He had fucking better win is what you think, but you text back something a little more supportive.

Six days before the fight and Jungkook is in the shower. You’re at a loose end, so you decide to join him. You thank the lord that he didn’t lock the door; he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice you there until your hands are on his waist. He cries out in surprise and goes to turn around but you hold him still, kissing his shoulder and his back and the nape of his neck. You run your hands up his abs, grab his fulsome pecs, and peeking around his shoulder, you’re delighted to see he’s already hard.

“Were you about to masturbate in this shower?” you ask him, only half-serious.

“No,” he groans. “This is how badly I want you, y/n. Why are you making this so hard?”

You giggle at his choice of words and he growls deep in his throat. He turns around and cages you in against the screen with his hands either side of you.

“In six days,” he tells you, his voice low, face serious, eyes pinning you to the spot. “In six days, I am going to fucking destroy you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight for a week; I’m going to fill you up so completely, my cum never stops dripping out of you; I’m going to make you scream so loud, our neighbours want to call the police; I’m going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you again, then I’m going to fuck you some more and I’m still not going to be done. I’m going to take this cock,” he says, grabbing it at the base and hissing hard through his teeth as he does, “and I’m going to wreck your pretty little throat and your pretty little pussy, is that what you want?”

You can only nod, mute with desire, as you can feel arousal drip down your legs and you shiver, despite the warm, steamy atmosphere. Jungkook nudges his nose against yours, eyes still black as pitch, and he whispers in your ear.

“In six days.”

Then he leans back and stands back under the stream of water.

“Now get the fuck out.”

You’re so overwhelmed, you just do as he says and he follows behind you, shutting the door – and locking it – as soon as you’ve crossed the threshold. You blink hard and, as you come to your senses, you feel too many things at once: hot, frustrated, desperate, livid, heartbroken, a little bit intimidated, a lot excited, and over and above everything else, impatient.

Jungkook stands in the shower, turning the water icy again. He’s shaking, trembling all over, and before he can get himself under control, he’s sobbing. Hands against the tiles, shivering with cold and shuddering through ragged breaths, he drops his head and cries. Cries because he’s so frustrated, because he misses you so much, because he’s so tired, because he hates disappointing you, because he’s anxious, because he’s not sleeping well at night without you, because a tiny, paranoid thought niggles at him that this is going to make you leave him, because he can’t live without you and if he didn’t know it before, he knows it now.

He cries under the cold water for so long that it stops feeling cold against his skin and when he finally steps out of the shower, his skin is livid red and icy to the touch.

He goes to stay at a friend’s house that night.

“Look, I love you so much and I miss you so much that I can’t be around you,” reads his text. “Just thinking about you makes me want to die a seriously Little Death. The fight will be over soon; just six more days and I promise, I’ll give you everything you want and more. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, please, please wait for me.”

“I love you, too, my little Bourbon,” you reply. “But I might never forgive you for this.”

“I promise, I’ll make you forgive AND forget, just wait ’til Saturday.”

He stares at his phone, wishing the messages said something different. He knows you’re joking, thinks you’re joking, hopes you’re joking, at least a little bit.

He sends a string of different kiss emojis and you toss your phone down beside you. Considering your small arsenal of sex toys without hope, you pick one at random, knowing even before you’ve started that it’s not even going to touch the sides of your desire. Your need for Jungkook has become a yawning chasm that stretches further than the eye can see; and it is a need for Jungkook specifically. For one mad moment a few days ago, you had considered the possibility of going out and getting fucked by someone else, but the second you thought it, it repulsed you: you don’t need a dick, you need his dick; you need his mouth; you need his hands. You need him, no one and nothing else. Accept no imitations. Which is really rather a pain right now.

You try to focus on your body, on the pleasure building there, the pleasant thrum in your core as you work with the vibrator in your folds and against your clit. You try to think about nothing, removing Jungkook from the equation, just emptying your mind and focusing on the physical sensations of your body.

It doesn’t work and you get so frustrated that you throw the vibrator in the bin and then, that not being enough, scoop up the others and chuck them in there, too. What’s the point of them, you think to yourself bitterly.

These had better be the fastest six days of your life or you aren’t sure you’ll survive.

FIGHT NIGHT

It was finally here. Jungkook had been working towards this for months, years, for his whole life in a way. It was both the pinnacle of his career and the first step of what he hoped would be a very long journey to the top. The final fight in his bid to be The Ring’s Super Middleweight champion: his opponent, Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez. Jungkook has him on reach and height, and he’s also lighter, which he thinks will be to his advantage. Canelo might be a slugger, but that’s where Jungkook excels. People think that his lightness is a disadvantage, that he doesn’t have the strength to throw hard enough punches, that he’s weak, that he’s Amir Khan. But he’s better than that. He’s agile and yes, slighter than other super middleweights, but he’s also strong and he’s also powerful and there’s nothing like seeing the surprise in his opponent’s face when he got his first punch in and they realised that for themselves. Of course, now he’s getting better known, he’s losing that element of surprise but it’s hardly the only thing he’s got in his keep.

But he’s not thinking about that. Today, just like all the other days this week, he’s thinking about you. His coach keeps telling him that he’s strong, that he seems focused, that he seems strong, but Jungkook isn’t entirely convinced. All he can think about is you; his mind is already beyond the fight and he’s anxious that this is going to be his undoing, that he’s going to have survived these past four weeks only to be so keyed up and desperate in the ring that he loses.

He wishes he could see you, just for five minutes, but you’ve been banned from his presence on fight days. You’re also banned from the gym on training days. Jungkook agrees with Coach that that’s probably for the best but it doesn’t mean he likes it. You are a distraction, there’s no denying it, but today, he really feels like he needs it. He needs you. Even an ounce, even a drop of you will do.

He pulls out his phone and dials your number.

“Kookie! Are you ok?” You sound concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“We never speak on fight days; I thought something might be wrong.”

Jungkook sighs and leans his head back against the wall.

“Something is wrong: I miss you.”

“Jungkook! Don’t scare me like that!”

He laughs and knows he was right to call you; just hearing your voice is like a balm to his fraying nerves. He already feels more relaxed.

“I’m sorry, love,” he replies. “I just wanted to hear your voice; we haven’t spoken this week.”

“I know and whose fault is that?”

“I know, I know, it’s mine, but I can’t wait to see you. Even if I lose this fight, as long as I’ve got you, I’m good, I’m a winner.”

“Hey now, you’re not going to lose, my little oat and raisin cook-”

“You don’t like that flavour cookie, do you?”

“Well, I don’t, no, but I thought I’d go with the least sexy flavour, in respect of how easy it is to get a ‘rise’ out of you at the moment.”

He snorts, appreciative of the weird, little effort.

“I think you’re right: raisins are not sexy but cookies are sexy biscuits, aren’t they? By default? Sexier than normal biscuits, right?”

“So you’re saying we need a raisin biscuit that isn’t a cookie.”

“Yeah.

“Garibaldi?”

Jungkook laughs.

“I don’t even know what that is, love, but sure, it doesn’t sound sexy.”

“Ok, then, I know you’re not going to lose, my little garibaldi.”

He laughs again and tells you that his coach has said the same thing (“… not in the same words”). He wishes he could stay on the phone with you longer; having barely spoken to you this week, he misses your voice, your presence, your conversation, just as much if not more than he misses your body. He sees his coach crossing the room, approaching him and he rings off reluctantly, but relieved he got even a minute with you before tonight.

He’s pacing in the dressing room; it’s almost time. He considered asking you not to come to this one; he’s not sure that he’ll be able to focus knowing you’re so much as in the room. The usual rule is that you’re allowed to attend but you have to sit somewhere in the back, somewhere he won’t be able to see you; he’s not sure if that’ll be enough tonight. Coach is talking to him, trying to hype him up, but he can’t hear a word. He just knows he needs to end this fight as soon as he possibly can and that means not going out there all guns blazing like a reckless thug in a bar fight; it means taking a step back (and he physically does it, takes one step back), taking a deep breath, and remembering the strategy, remembering the training. He’s ready for this (“You’re ready for this, JK,” Coach cries); he’s going to destroy Canelo (“You’re going to smash it, mate; you’re going to destroy him!”); and then he’s going to destroy you and himself in that order.

Canelo seems thrown off by Jungkook at the start: his size, maybe, his strength, his Southpaw stance despite being right-handed, Jungkook can’t be sure, but he wins the first round decisively and it’s exactly how he needs it to go: he likes to be the underdog but he likes an early lead. Spite and competitiveness can get you surprisingly far in life. He was right that Canelo is heavy and Jungkook is able to run rings around him; he thinks he might genuinely be able to get this wrapped up early, if he can just manage to hit him hard enough.

That turns out to be an ambitious goal and, halfway through, he’s slightly down on points. He’s frustrated; he can’t quite work out why his punches aren’t landing. Are they really not connecting? It certainly doesn’t feel like it. Are the judges just not seeing them? He’s not sure what he can do about that. He spits out the water Coach squirted in his mouth and he’s nodding at his advice. As he stands to get ready for the seventh round, his eyes roam the crowd, not looking for anything, just looking. Then his stomach flips. He sees you.

You’re sitting in your seat, anxious and uncomfortable. It always makes you anxious to see him fight, even though you know he’s trained for this and he’s as safe as anyone else would be in the same situation, but you flinch every time Canelo lands a punch. Jungkook hasn’t lost a fight all year and you’re surprised to see him losing – even if not by many points. You hadn’t really considered the possibility of him losing, because he doesn’t. He’s Jungkook. He’s the Baby Assassin of Busan. He doesn’t lose.

But things go from bad to worse. The next rounds see Jungkook falter, making uncharacteristic mistakes and misjudgements that cost him points. As the bell rings at the end of the tenth round, you can see the frustration in Jungkook’s face from here. Your stomach twists; you know how much this fight means to him and how upset he’ll be if he loses. You try to rouse yourself; it’s not over ’til it’s over. There are two rounds to go and he’s not so far behind he can’t make it up. There’s still a chance.

When Jungkook stands for the eleventh round, you see him scanning the crowd in your direction. You panic, should you hide? Duck? Cover your face? Too late; his eyes find yours and the second stretches into eternity, just you and him, before he’s tapped by the ref and he turns away. You shouldn’t have come. You’re a distraction. You’re going to make it worse.

Jungkook is going to lose.

The bell rings and Jungkook feels sprightly, buoyed, suddenly less tired than he had done in the last round. He dances energetically around the ring, keeping Canelo moving, keeping him throwing punches and missing, throwing more punches and missing again and again. You’re on the edge of your seat; this is the Jungkook you know. All at once, he lands three punches on Canelo and leaps back out of his retaliatory reach. Then he settles in a bit closer and lets Canelo land a couple on him; this… isn’t the Jungkook you know. You can’t work out what he’s doing; you’ve not seen him do this before. You turn to the clock, watching the seconds of the round tick by. Thirty seconds left. You check the points. Jungkook still behind.

This is more like it, Jungkook thinks. He can end it. He knows he can. He just has to let Canelo let his guard down a little more, tire him out a little further. Jungkook is not letting this get to twelve rounds. It won’t happen. Not on his watch.

You’re so focused on the screen: the points, the time, that you miss what causes the crowd to suddenly surge and scream. Canelo is standing with the referee in front of him, looking a little dazed. The ref lets them continue and the round commences again. Before Canelo has even blinked, Jungkook has hit him with a left hook that you know he put all his weight into. Canelo falls to the mat and doesn’t get back up. The ref starts counting. The crowd count with him.

“8… 9… 10!”

The ref waves a wide cross in front of him; the commentator declares it a knockout; and the crowd is screaming. Jungkook’s arms are in the air, his coach lumbering into the ring to envelope him in a hug, along with everyone else, it seems, the ring suddenly full of people. You lose sight of Jungkook. You’re on your feet, straining to see over the heads of the people in front of you, who are doing the very same thing. Tiny red fists emerge from the mêlée and it’s him; you exhale a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. You’re desperate to get to him. It’s over. The fight’s finally over. And he won. By knockout after a hard fight. This is absolutely the best outcome, better even than you’d hoped for. You bet he’s on cloud nine and you can’t wait to join him there.

Jungkook is buzzing. He’s done it. It’s finally over. And that means there’s only one thing on his mind. He can’t focus, is barely there as they hand him his belt, as he lifts it above his head to show the screaming crowd. People are congratulating him, slapping his back, rubbing his hair; at some point, someone takes his hands and rips off his gloves – he’s not sure where they end up. The fight was televised and a man with a microphone approaches him. He tries hard to focus on the questions, answering as quickly as he can and then the presenter asks just what he’s going to do now he’s won his first Super Middleweight title.

“Well,” he answers, “I haven’t come in four weeks so I’m going to go find my girl and fuck her in the dressing room ’til neither of us can walk straight!”

He points right at you, flicks a peace sign to the crowd and jogs back the way he entered 45 long minutes ago.

He keeps jogging all the way to the dressing room, stopping for precisely nobody. Coach tries to grab his attention, tries to grab his shoulder, but he shrugs him off. Wild horses can’t keep him from you now.

He swings open the dressing room, for a moment disappointed that you’re not there before him, but, of course you wouldn’t be. He’ll have to wait; it’s been four weeks, he can cope with another four minutes. Probably. He paces back and forth, back and forth; he chugs half a bottle of water; he almost wipes the sweat off his body, dries his hair, but then he remembers how much you like him dirty like this. Just the thought of you has got him hard already. He palms himself through his shorts and immediately has to stop himself; to come before you’ve even got in the door is unthinkable, unforgivable.

The door opens and there you are.

“Fucking finally.”

Jungkook slams his hands either side of your head, leaning down over you, sweat still dripping from his hair. He lowers one hand slowly to lock the door, his dark eyes never leaving yours, and then returns it next to your head.

“Did you have to wear fucking jeans?” he asks, laughing lightly. Of course, she’d wear jeans, he thinks, fucking tease. “Couldn’t find a dress? A skirt?”

“Sorry,” you answer, and you’re already breathless.

Jungkook kisses you, pressing his whole body against you and you sigh; god how you’ve missed this. He turns you around with one knock of his hand on your hip and he unbuttons your jeans impatiently. He shoves them roughly down your legs and you step out of them and your shoes at the same time.

“Oh baby, I don’t care. All I care about is finally getting to fuck you like you deserve. Please tell me you’re wet already. I don’t think I can wait a second longer.”

He’s usually more considerate; he would usually take his time. But this is not a usual situation. You laugh.

“Kookie, I’ve been wet for weeks, just hurry the fuck up, would you?”

He doesn’t need telling twice. He strips off his shorts and boxers and as he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, and it twitches, he gasps.

“Shit.”

He takes a few breaths, tries to steady himself. He kisses your neck, buying himself some time. He’s on a hair trigger and he’s not entirely convinced he won’t blow his load in one thrust.

“Just so you know,” he tells you, figuring there’s nothing else for it. “I’m going to last about ten seconds right now, but I promise, I’ll be ready to go again. I swear this won’t be it.”

“Just fuck me, please, Kookie. I’ll take ten seconds over none.”

Your whole body shudders as he presses into you for the first time in four weeks. You both moan low and Jungkook pauses at the bottom. You can feel him breathing heavily against your skin and he takes your trapezius in his teeth, taking a generous bite and not letting go as he drags himself backwards before thrusting in again. Your walls are spasming already; you’re so tight and he’s stretching you just right, filling you up like you’ve not been filled for 29 long days.

Ten seconds, as it happens, was an over-estimation. The way you grip him, the way he can feel your walls fluttering against him; you’re so hot and wet and tight and it’s been so long and he’s so sensitive. He lasts for all of a handful of thrusts before he’s groaning and shooting hot, white ropes of cum into you.

“Fuck, shit, sorry, baby, fuck!”

You can’t help but laugh as you turn around, keeping your legs tight together. He grins sheepishly at you and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

“I’m sorry, love, I did tell you.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”

His hands meet across your lower back and he pulls you close for a kiss.

“I’ve missed you, too, Kookie,” you mumble against his lips, half your words eaten up by Jungkook’s mouth. You feel his tongue against your lower lip and you open up for him, sliding your tongue over his as he licks into your mouth. God, even this you’ve missed. You’ve barely even seen him in the last week, let alone got close to him, let alone touched him, let alone kissed him, even chastely. It’s overwhelming now to have him so close to you, all over you. You never want him any further away.

He moves his hands lower and lifts you up under your bum, carrying you to the sofa, where he strips you of your top and bralet – the black, lacy one you know he likes. You almost pout that he takes no notice of it but he catches you eye and grins.

“I notice, I know, I love you, thank you, but god, I don’t want a stitch on you right now. Nothing is better than you like this.” He stretches his hands out over your naked body and climbs over you. He ducks again, swallowing your next moan as he pinches at your nipple.

His mouth is everywhere, burning wherever it touches. You’re sweating and breathless and you think you won’t last much longer than ten seconds either when he finally touches you. Your cunt is quivering in anticipation, your clit throbbing a hard pulse, its echoes shuddering through you. Your back arches as Jungkook moves lower, his mouth on one nipple and then the next and then lower and lower still. He crawls off the sofa onto his knees and pulls you around, legs dangling from the edge. He spreads your thighs wide and takes a moment, looking down at your soaking wet pussy through half-lidded eyes. He licks his lips and clicks his neck from one side to the next before fixing you with a mischievous grin.

“If you even think about teasing me,” you gasp out. “I will fucking murder you.”

He laughs and kisses your inner thigh.

“You over-estimate my self-control, my love. I’m at my fucking limit.”

He is. He isn’t even close to finished with you. His cock is already stirring again as he dives straight in, licking a broad stripe from core to clit and moaning lasciviously as he does. You’re already so sensitive, whining and whimpering as he sucks and slurps at you, his face buried so far into the crux of your thighs, you don’t know if he can breathe. Almost immediately, you’re cresting, arching off the sofa, thighs clamping together on Jungkook’s head as a streak of hot pleasure surges through you and fresh arousal gushes over his face.

He brings his hands to your thighs and forces them apart without breaking contact with your cunt. He doesn’t stop, no matter how you squirm; you can’t catch your breath to tell him you’re over-stimulated, to beg him to stop, to give you a second’s break. A scream breaks in your throat as he pushes three fingers inside you and you’re seeing stars. He finally takes his mouth from you and breathes heavily against you, his breath sending sprinkles of goosebumps across your skin. He curls his fingers inside you and then tips your hips just slightly, suddenly hitting the perfect spot. You’re incoherent, animal, as you moan and whimper, stuttering to another orgasm under his ministrations.

You don’t have to find a way to ask him to remove his fingers as the waves of your orgasm roll through you but just as you are about to breathe a sigh of relief, his mouth is back on you. He’s gentle this time, more patient. He kisses your lips, licks through your folds slowly, moaning, his brows knitting together because it’s been so long since he’s tasted you and there’s nothing he’d ever rather eat. He buries his tongue in your hole, bumping your clit with his nose; if it were anyone else, it might be accidental, but you know Jungkook knows your body perfectly and knows exactly what he's doing. You’re raw, over-wrought, dehydrated. Your vision swims and your voice gets stuck in your throat, able only to gasp and stutter, not even able to scream his name out loud as you scream it in your head. Your hands tremble, one pushing back the hair on your head, the other finding its way to Jungkook’s hair, tangling there as if you could even dream of giving him direction right now.

His eyes flick to yours and they’re black, pupils dilated, lids fluttering quickly to a close again as he moans, vibrating lips sealing around your screamingly sensitive clit. Your hand pulls sharply at his hair, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel like every atom in your body has been electrified, every touch, every movement – yours or his – sending sparks straight to your core, where they’re churned up into a tight ball. Like the death of a star, your body collapses in on itself, contracting and tightening as you are reduced to little more than a silent scream, and then explodes, a supernova of ecstasy exploding within you, scattering bits of you all over the room.

When you open your eyes, you can see stars wherever you look, which isn’t far because you can’t find it within you to move a single muscle.

“You ok, my love?”

Jungkook’s face swims into view, a dopey grin on his sticky, wet face. He looks drunk or high or both. He pushes the hair off your face, your flushed cheeks, fucked-out, dilated pupils staring straight at him; he thinks you look high or drunk or both. He kisses you so you can taste yourself on his lips and you’re suddenly hungry again.

“Kookie.” Your voice is hoarse and low, still strangled with need.

Jungkook hums against your mouth as he lifts you up, pressing your back into the back of the sofa.

“Kookie.”

You manage to grab his face between your palms and hold him still, giving you a chance to focus on him, see him properly.

“Tell me what you need,” he says, as eager to please and energetic as a new puppy and you have no idea how. He should be tired; he knows he’s going to crash hard, but right now, there’s adrenaline surging through him like there’s no tomorrow. He’s wired; he’s excited; he feels almost manic with love and lust and he’s so high, he can’t see the ground. He feels like he could go all night and he’s certainly going to try.

“I need you inside me, right now, right this second. Please, please, please.”

You aren’t exactly unaccustomed to begging but nothing will stop the stream of ‘please’s tumbling from your mouth. Nothing, that is, except the head of Jungkook’s perfect cock in your folds, waiting, teasing at your entrance.

He’s lifted you again, setting you on the arm of the sofa, him kneeling on the cushions; with nothing to rest against, you cling to him tight as your breath catches in your throat. He watches closely as he pushes into the tight, wet slip of your cunt, watching himself disappear into you. You want to make a joke about lasting another ten seconds but you don’t have the energy, the capacity, the mental agility to make it; you just about manage to cry his name as starts to thrust, smooth and slow at first, but soon, quicker, harder, accompanied by quiet growls and grunts as he grips you tight. You really do feel drunk, giddy, hysterical as he’s finally, finally back where he belongs. You feel tears prick in your eyes at the relief of it, the pressure, the pleasure.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “Shit, I can’t wait to fill you up, stuff you fucking full. Can you take it, baby?”

He’s relieved he hasn’t come again already, though he knows he could. He’s holding back because he’s still so close to the edge. If he isn’t careful, he’s going to lose it again.

“I can take it,” you reply, voice high and tight. “Give it to me, Kookie- fuck.”

He grabs the hair at the back of your head and pulls it back, exposing your neck so he can kiss you, lick you, bite you there, moaning against your skin as you whimper and stutter.

“Kookie, shit, please. I need you to fuck me forever. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he grunts. “Shit, won’t stop. I’m yours, baby.”

“Only mine.”

“Only yours.”

You press your lips to his clavicle, then lick a bead of sweat travelling down his throat. Jungkook moves faster still, his grip on you painfully tight as he threatens your cervix with every thrust. You’re so sensitive, you’re at an almost constant spasm around him; your limbs still heavy and weak, tingling like they’re both going numb and coming back to life. You simultaneously want this to last forever and feel like you’ll die if a single extra ounce of pleasure is put on you. Then Jungkook sucks at that one spot on your neck that makes you melt and you swear, voice wavering and breaking.

“Give me one more, baby,” he demands, so low you almost don’t hear it.

“I don’t have it,” you whimper.

“Yes, you do, c’mon, y/n.”

And he slips a hand between you, never letting his pace falter.

“Jesus, fuck!”

He touches you gently, but it’s enough to have reality slipping from view, your vision burning white, your blood roaring, screaming in your ears as you cum again. You hold him tight, your nails digging into his back, your teeth hard on the delicate flesh of his neck. It rolls through you, knocking your breath from your lungs, and once it’s passed, you’re trembling, shaking.

Jungkook is holding his breath, straining to last to fuck you through your orgasm; you’re so tight around him it’s like his brain loses signal, just a siren wailing an emergency. No thoughts, no words, when you collapse against him, he exhales, and releases into you with a long, high-pitched sigh.

He lies back onto the sofa, taking you with him.

“That was more than ten seconds, right?” he asks, breathless.

You laugh and pat his shoulder.

“Well done, little jammy dodger; I’m proud of you.”

“For lasting more than ten seconds or winning the title?”

“What title?”

The question leaves your lips before your brain has engaged and Jungkook laughs, first a little and then a lot, so much that you can’t help but laugh with him, can’t help but laugh until you’re crying, your abs hurting, you’re silent in your mirth, breathless and voiceless and hysterical.

When you finally stop, you bring your face level to his. He still has tears of laughter in his eyes and streaking his cheeks. You wipe them away with your thumb and he turns his head to kiss your palm.

“Both, I guess?” you answer.

He grins and shakes his head.

“I almost lost. I thought I was going to fucking lose,” he tells you. “That second half, I-…”

“What happened?”

“I saw you. I saw you in the crowd and I almost fucking came right then and there.” He laughs, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I couldn’t concentrate on the fight; all I could think about was trying not to get a fucking boner. Shit what a stupid fucking idea it was not having sex for four we-”

“I fucking told you!”

“I know, I know. I will never not listen to you ever again for the rest of my life, I swear. God.”

“No more sex bans?”

“No more sex bans. I am never, ever not having sex with you again.”

“Good.”

You lift yourself onto your elbows on his chest and kiss him first on the lips, then the jaw and neck and anywhere within reach.

“Speaking of never not having sex… Are you ready to go again?”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts #mmm repost

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graceslcver · 9 days

Text

all da ladies love leo valdez ! leo x daughter of poseidon!reader

｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ in which, leo has a crush on yet another girl that’s beyond his league, percy’s sister … and his friends flame him for not being able to confess his feelings!

— this is set in like… university ?? obviously jason doesn’t die…hope u enjoy my first ever fic on here!! might be ooc, soz🫐 also jeyna is a thing…. sorry not sorry!! 🤓😂 (it’s actually not even relevant to this story, but i thought i’d let u know…)

IMSG, “THE LOST HOES 🫤” July 4th, 2024

beauty queen

do yall ever wonder how it’s impossible to not pull hoes

like it sounds like a real SKILL issue

superman

who are you talking about, pipes?

beauty queen

who do u think I’m talking about???

the only mfo who doesn’t have a gf???

do NOT play dumb jason grace

latino elf

oh wow

talking shit in the gc is crazzyyy

superman

i wasn’t!

she was.

beauty queen

do not make me pull up our private messages

latino elf

i see how it is…..

😔 it’s always the bitches u think u can trust…

superman

beauty queen

why is he the driest man alive

this why we didn’t last ong😭

latino elf

or maybe because ur lebanese ???

superman

she’s cherokee huh

wait is that supposed to say lesbian?

latino elf

isn’t that what it says…

beauty queen

💀💀

ok… anyway can we talk about the fact that leo has

been madly in love with y/n since like… forever???

latino elf

no thanks

didn’t ask

not true

lying on my name

superman

yeah yeah whatever helps you sleep at night

beauty queen

he’s down bad shhh

latino elf

OHHH GODDD 😭😭😔😔😔

ok so what if i like her shes so fine

and so nice and sooo mermaid 🧜‍♀️

beauty queen

she is very fine and very nice

and yes she’s very mermaid

superman

we all know he isn’t going to say

anything to her, though, right??

latino elf

hahaha 😂 wdym 😂

i’d tell her if percy weren’t her brother

superman

that didn’t stop you from trying to

flirt with MY sister though???????

latino elf

yeah that’s different tho

she COULDNT go out with me

beauty queen

not like she wanted to anyway

latino elf

gtfo

anyway i don’t plan on telling her that

i have any slight interest in her! 😎

superman

you should though

bet she likes you too

beauty queen

don’t feed into his delusions

superman

gosh pipes, pipe it down a notch

latino elf

fr listen to my bro ‼️

how would i even tell her dawggg

WHAT IF she rejects me 🤨 BOOM FRIENDSHIP GONE

superman

yeah i guess so

but yolo ???

latino elf

yolo my ass bro😒

superman

ok sorry for trying to help

beauty queen

this why she dont want u

latino elf

yeah nd thats why yo relationship was a LIE 🤣

superman

😐

beauty queen

🖕🏼

latino elf

lol ur mad

ok bye u guys are a snooze fest 😴

beauty queen

go talk to ur gf

latino elf

i will, beauty queen 🫡

IMSG, “Y/N 🦈” July 4th, 2024

leo 🛠️

hey hey mermaid

y/n 🦈

hi leo !

whats up :)

leo 🛠️

the sky duh

nothing much tho, just chilling in my dorm

u should totally pull up

y/n 🦈

we’ll see 🧐

i’m in the library rn

leo 🛠️

nerd alert ‼️

y/n 🦈

ok but when u fail our exams dont come crying

leo 🛠️

if it were math/science i would be resting peacefully

but no fr i did study, trust 🙏🏼

y/n 🦈

not that u needed it though

you’re smart enough

leo 🛠️

wowie thanks mermaid

da ladies wish they had my smarts

y/n 🦈

🤨🤨

leo 🛠️

sorry that came out SO wrong 😭

y/n 🦈

ok ok well pull up to the library

perhaps i need ur smarts

leo 🛠️

si señora

will be there in a few 😎

shark_girl • 2h

send message ♡ ➣

pipermstealer replied to your story

omg he wants uuu 😳😳🤣😂

shark_girl

why are u insane

😅😅😅

pipermstealer

i am not insane he wants u

what boy willingly wants to study w a girl

shark_girl

one that’s my friend???

pipermstealer

friend my ass bro

he wanna kiss u so bad…

matching usernames??? THE MAAAN WANTS UU 😭

shark_girl

be fr we’ve had them since we were

like fifteen 🙄🙄

pipermstealer

bro get out I’m actually DONE

u have to wake up queen 😭🙏🏼

IMESSAGE, PIPER & JASON July 5th, 2024

pipes 🌸

i am so SO DONE with yn

jason ⚡️

why

pipes 🌸

bc she’s convinced that leo don’t want her

jason ⚡️

i think its very obvious

do you think yn wants leo thats the real question

pipes 🌸

ABSOLUTELY ?????

she has extreme heart eyes for him

but she’s better at hiding it

jason ⚡️

wait are you being serious

NO WAY

NO WAY??

a girl out of his league actually wants him 🤨

piper 🌸

wait I thought u knew???

jason ⚡️

uhm no

she must be good at hiding it

piper 🌸

or boys are just dense

jason ⚡️

ok well…….

we have to get them together

cause I’m so tired of hearing leo ramble abt her

piper 🌸

ok well i’m tired of yn too

how do we get them together

jason ⚡️

uh I don’t know?????

now why would you think I know

aren’t YOU the daughter of aphrodite

maybe YOU should know 😒

pipes 🌸

someone’s mad

but i don’t know?

one of them has to say something eventually….

jason ⚡️

no way, leo would never… not too sure about yn though.

leo cares too much about their friendship

and he is convinced she only sees him as a friend

and he’s deathly afraid to ruin their friendship

pipes 🌸

why do we have dumb friends

why can’t THEY SEEEE

jason ⚡️

yeah it’s very annoying

man, maybe we shouldn’t interfere?

let them figure it out themselves

pipes 🌸

unless u want leo to date the first girl

who gives him the opportunity to date her,

i think we SHOULD interfere! not a lot just a tiny bit 🤏🏼

jason ⚡️

well i guess you have a point… but how?

pipes 🌸

OK hear me out fr

u share a dorm with leo, yeah?

he always leaves his phone unattended

go into twt and make sure he isnt logged into his private account

jason ⚡️

where is this headed

pipes 🌸

ok shut up

OK but make sure hes on the main

since he always talks about her on his priv

so if yn sees a tweet about her then

SHES GOTTA KNOW

jason ⚡️

FIRST OF ALL thats an invasion of privacy

SECOND OF ALL what if she doesn’t see it before

leo realizes that wasn’t tweeted on his private account

pipes 🌸

no she like stalks his twitter so she’ll see!

and uhm so what if it’s an invasion of privacy

he’ll thank us once he gets the girl of his dreams 🙄

jason ⚡️

ok then….

i’ll do it

but if this backfires i was not apart of it

pipes 🌸

yeah yeah whatever

i’ll take the blame

FIVE DAYS LATER, TWITTER!

IMSG, “THE LOST HOES 🫤” July 10th, 2024

latino elf

HOLY SHIT

IM JUMPING OFF THE NEAREST CLIFF

it was so nice knowing u two

superman

don’t kys ur so sexy haha

what happened though

latino elf

i accidentally tweeted something

about yn.

on my main.

superman

hey man, maybe she didn’t see?

beauty queen

yeah she probably didn’t

latino elf

yeah u guys are RIGHT 😅

she DIDN’T SEE IT!!!

beauty queen

mhm

latino elf

you’re being oddly quiet…

beauty queen

sorry????? IM BUSY

latino elf

yeah huh

superman

you’re crazy

latino elf

oh my god i’m gonna throw up

my friend ship is over with her

she messaged meEEE

HELPPPP

superman

MESSAGE HER BACK???

GO GO GO GOOO BRO

latino elf

no i’m leaving her on delivered

beauty queen

i swear to gods if u don’t message her

jason and i WILL jump you 😭😭

superman

exactly!!

latino elf

it was so nice being her friend 🫤

beauty queen

BRO STFU AND READ HER MESSAGE???

latino elf

ok fine

bye…..

IMSG, “Y/N 🦈” July 10th, 2024

y/n 🦈

leo did u mean to tweet that?

leo 🛠️

tweet what 🤨

y/n 🦈

you know what I’m talking about

you’re not stupid

leo 🛠️

you’re crazy

i got hacked by

jason

y/n 🦈

you’re crazier for thinking I’d believe you

so… u did mean to?

leo 🛠️

i don’t want to ruin our friendship

please don’t let this ruin it

you’re my bestest friend

y/n 🦈

gosh let me talk

i thought you didn’t like me

so i never said anything…?

but i like you, leo. i really do

leo 🛠️

oh my god

are you serious

wait i’m going to your dorm

y/n 🦈

what??

Delivered

Leo looked at his phone for a good second and then left it on his bed, unattended. he ran to your residence hall— it didn’t matter to him that it was quite literally on the other side of campus. he needed to hear you say the words he had been waiting to hear since he was fifteen. he’d always had a slight crush on you, mostly off and on.

But during the summer, he had fallen for you even harder than he thought he could. he never thought that he could love someone as much as he loved you. anyway, he was practically dying as he ran to your dorm! his hair was disheveled, and he was panting a bit. he wasn’t sure if he was sweaty because he was nervous, or because he had just ran to get to your dorm.

He knocked on your door three times.

You jumped out of your bed. you felt like throwing up from how nervous you were. you quickly slid on your slippers, and looked in the mirror before you opened the door for him. (making the poor boy wait). you adjusted your hair, making sure it sat right.

You took a deep breath before opening the door. you almost didn’t, but a voice in your head was telling you that you’d be an idiot if you didn’t open the door. your hands gripped the doorknob, and then unlocked it. leo was practically dying because you were taking years to open the stupid door. you finally opened it, getting met by a disheveled-sweaty-flushed leo valdez.

“Hi.” he croaked out, his voice cracking slightly. he felt like he was on fire, literally. he wanted this to be over with! well, no, that’s a lie. he just wanted to be your boyfriend already.

“…Hi.” you answered, your voice was quiet. you had an awkward smile on your face. you were praying that you would just drown at this moment. you’d much rather enjoy that than this.

He cleared his throat, and finally spoke after a long minute of awkward silence. The two looked at each other “I really… really like you. I.. Uh.. You obviously know that already, but I wanna tell you in person?” he said, nodding along with his own words. his hands went to fumble with the hem of his shirt, anxiously waiting for your response.

“I really like you, too.” You replied. you didn’t feel as nervous as anymore when he started to talk. you felt your face getting hotter, and your smile getting bigger. he grinned at you like an idiot.

He thought that he was dreaming when you said you liked him. The start of something. “Really?” He asked, just wanting to hear you say it again. He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. He thought never in a million years that you’d ever like him! You were totally out of his league. you were so awesome, so pretty, and so sweet.

You nodded again, rolling your eyes. “Yes, really.”

THREE MONTHS LATER… INSTAGRAM!

shark_girl

🎶 let the light in : lana del rey (feat. father john misty)

Liked by percysbeth, lava_boy, pipermstealer, and 122 others

shark_girl happy three million years with my boy!!! i love u so so so much leo 🫶🏼🫶🏼

tagged: lava_boy

View all 16 comments

lava_boy who is that sexy man in the 2nd slide

→ shark_girl idk i found him at the store……

lava_boy we’re literally like this 🤞🏼👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

lava_boy te quiero !!

→ shark_girl 🤍🤍

lava_boy ugh why do we literally solo everyone in new rome

→ shark_girl ntm on percabeth !!!!

→ percysbeth 🫡🫡

pipermstealer yeah you’re welcome 🥱

→ supermantaylorsversion i did all the work

→ pipermstealer i gave u the idea

→ lava_boy thank u jason 😒 thank u piper 🙄

→ pipermstealer i hope she leaves u

→ shark_girl woah guys no need to say that

percysbeth i support 🤫 (pls cook for me leo)

→ lava_boy on it 😎

lava_boy

🎶 ivy : frank ocean

Liked by supermantaylorsversion, shark_girl, and 98 others

lava_boy I would like to thank poseidon for being a father to my wonderful girlfriend of THREE DECADES 😎

tagged: shark_girl

View all 19 comments

shark_girl I THOUGHT THAT I WAS DREAMIN’ WHEN U SAID U LOVEEEE MEEE 😭😭😭

→ lava_boy the start of nothin 🦈

shark_girl i’m taylor lautner

→ lava_boy FORREAL

shark_girl hi bf 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

→ lava_boy hello girlfriend.

→ shark_girl 😭😭😭

pipermstealer no because you guys are actually cute

→ lava_boy ACTUALLY cute 🤨

→ pipermstealer what do u want me to say yall are actually ugly

→ shark_girl pipe it down a notch 😔

supermantaylorsversion he’s a romantic now

→ lava_boy erm i’ve always been one get out 🤓

percysbeth no cause yn has actually dressed up as a shark

→ lava_boy send pics or it didn’t happen

→ percysbeth check imsg

→ shark_girl i thought that was PRIVATE

→ lava_boy LMFAOO U LOOKED SO GOOFY

→ shark_girl you’re done….

｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ hello….. first smau done 😎 hopefully u really like this bc i died ten times whilst making it !!! uhmm pls lmk what you thought about it 🥲!!! i was sort of rushing at the end, so umm.. shhh 🤫…. @thelostheroo @amoosarte

also i will have a master list soon….???? (hopefully) and my requests are OPEN! so, plsplsplspls request…. con amor, mo!

#𐙚 graceslcver #₊˚ ⊹ my writings #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x daughter of poseidon #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace #piper mclean #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #percy pjo

260 notes · View notes

billybob598 · 6 months

Text

Monster (Alessia Russo x Reader)

What's up my mammals? anyways, this was requested originally as an air ambulance reader but I decided to switch it up a bit, if that's ok. i was planning on doing the olga fic next but I really wanna do a kcc fic so I might work on both. enough of me, though. like always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Happy reading!

Word Count: 2k (I mean...COME ON MOTHERTRUCKERS)

Warnings: Swearing, a bit of violence, emotional crisis

“Ooh, how about this one?” Alessia says from above you while pointing at a picture in the magazine you were holding.

“Mmm, no I don’t like that one,” you respond, shaking your head. Alessia pouts, begrudgingly flipping the page. The two of you were engaged to be married and were currently picking out tables for your reception. You continue to flip through the magazine pages as you lie between your fiancee’s legs. After a few more minutes of vetoing each other's choices, you both decided to take a break. You get up and start making some coffee while Alessia takes a little longer to get out of bed. Just as you’re pouring the coffee into your mugs, Alessia calls you to the bedroom,

“Y/N! Come here now!” Startled, you hastily head towards your shared room.

“Everything okay, love?” Peeking around the corner you find your girlfriend, white as a ghost, your phone a few inches away from her ear. Rushing over, you carefully remove the phone from her hand and put it beside your ear. “Who is this?”

“Lieutenant Y/L/N, good to talk to you again,” the unmistakable deep voice says through the speaker. Unknowingly, you stand up straighter. Shoulders back, chest puffing out.

“Sir,” you say, your voice miles different than the one you were just speaking to Alessia in.

“I’m going to get straight to the point, you’re being deployed. I’ll send you the details and your flight information. I’m not asking, soldier,” his tone left no room for arguing. You sigh, glancing over at Alessia who watched and listened to your conversation intently.

“Sir, with all due respect, is there no one else that you could take?” You say exasperated.

“Are you saying you don’t want to serve your country, Lieutenant?”

“No, no, not at all. But, you see I’m getting married in a few months here, sir.”

“Well, in a few months, you’ll be back. As I said, this isn’t a request.” With a sigh you nod and mutter out a “yes sir” before hanging up the phone and turning to look at the Arsenal striker.

“Less?” She doesn’t respond. She’s rooted to the spot. Her mind racing at a million miles an hour. They were going send you and hundreds of other British soldiers in there to fight a military that looked very far from surrendering. No. She couldn’t let you go like that. She was this close to finally being able to call you her wife. There was no chance in hell that she’d let you slip through her fingers like that. She’s broken out of her thoughts by your hand gently grasping hers.

“Sorry, what?” She asks, meeting your eyes for the first time since receiving the phone call.

“Are you okay, Less?” You speak softly while slowly caressing the back of her hand.

“Mhm, of course I am. Not like they’re deploying you into a country in absolute carnage or anything,” she mutters, her frustration getting the better of her.

“Baby, come on now. You know I can’t control this and it’s my job. It’s what I signed up for, it’s what you signed up for,” you reason.

“I know it’s what I signed up for, but what I didn’t sign up for is you leaving for duty with only a few months until we’re supposed to get married,” her voice stern.

“Baby, I can’t say no, I’ll get dishonourably discharged. I’ll be fine Alessia, don’t worry,” you try to reason, getting a bit frustrated. Your girlfriend nods her head sadly.

“Okay, okay. You’re right, you have to go. But, you have to call at least once a day, deal?”

A grin comes across your face as you pull her into a soft kiss, “Deal.”

A few weeks later, you’re tiredly peeling off your combat dress. Throwing the last few bits of armour onto the ground, you sigh and lie down on the bottom bunk. After a long day of bullets, bombs, and blood all you want to do is get just a few minutes of sleep before you’re put back on patrol duty. Just as your eyes begin to shut, your phone rings. The special ringtone you have set indicates who it is.

“Hey, love!” Your favourite blonde’s cheery voice exclaims through the speakers.

“Hi Lessi,” you mumble out, tiredly. She frowns.

“Everything okay, love?”

You try to muster up a convincing smile, “Yeah, yeah everything’s fine, baby. Just tired is all.” Alessia isn’t convinced by your attempts, however.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she says softly.

“It’s okay, baby. How about you tell me about your day,” you sigh, obviously not wanting to talk. The striker nods and begins to talk in great detail about her day. You nod along and throw a question in every once and a while. After almost thirty minutes, you begin to yawn and your eyelids get heavier and heavier by the second.

“How about you go to sleep now, honey,” Alessia’s soft, sweet voice whispers to you.

“Mmm, okay. Don’t hang up, though,” you mumble sleepily.

“Why not?”

“I don’t wanna be alone, please,” Alessia’s heart cracks slightly at how sad and scared you sound.

“Of course, baby. I’ll be right here, you go to sleep now,” she coos. Within thirty seconds you’re out. Alessia laughs quietly and continues to get ready for training. She puts herself on mute as she goes about her day. While she was eating her breakfast with the team, she was teased relentlessly. It was fine by her though, she was just happy to see your face. And to see that you were finally resting. She knew that you weren’t exactly getting your 7-8 hours of sleep, so seeing you sleeping, if only for a bit, brought her some peace.

As Alessia and Kyra Cooney-Cross were walking through the halls, on their way to the changeroom, a sudden and loud bang could be heard from your side. Startled, Alessia looks at her phone only to find you wide awake, eyes big.

The striker unmutes herself, “Y/N, love, is everything okay?”

Your eyes widen even further when you hear her voice, “Err, yeah, everything’s good.” Alessia is not convinced at all.

Even less so when she hears a random voice yell through the night, “We’re under attack!” This springs you into action, you rush to put on your combat dress. Alessia is rooted to the spot. This couldn’t be happening, could it? Grabbing your phone, you sprint out of the barrack and towards the weaponry. Flinging the door open, you and a dozen other soldiers rush to grab rifles or pistols or anything really.

“Less, I’ve got to go…” you say loudly, over the bullets and shouts.

“Y/N? Are you okay? What’s happ-” Alessia is cut short when you hang up. Tears are already filling her eyes as Kyra pulls her into a tight hug.

“I’m sure she’s gonna be okay,” Kyra says into her ear.

Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you tuck your phone away.

“Y/L/N! Take a team. Try and see if you can get in behind them,” One of your superior officers tells you. Nodding, you pick seven other people and lead them into the darkness. Everyone was silent as you trekked through the desert. Every once and awhile someone would say something over the radio or there would a random burst of gunfire, making everyone’s head swivel. The tension was palpable. It felt that if anyone so much as breathed a hair too loudly, that you’d be discovered. In the distance you could see the tanks and soldiers going at it. The eight of you continued on, nerves only increasing the closer you got to the enemies camp. After twenty more minutes of walking, your little group was only a few hundred metres out from their first line of defence. Suddenly, there was a round of shots fired. Shit, they’d seen you. Everyone scattered as best they could. That was the downside of warfare in the desert, there was nowhere to hide.

“This way! Come on, run!” You yell into the blackness, hoping someone had heard you. Loading your rifle, you turned and fired a few shots back, giving enough time for everyone else on your team to take cover behind a sand ridge. When the final person ran past you, you turned and sprinted up the massive hill. You were almost at the top when the guy in front of you hit the ground with a grunt. Blood almost immediately leaking through the back of his shirt. “Come on, come on, man.” You grabbed his arm roughly and dragged him behind you. Reaching the peak of the ridge, you pulled the two of you down the other side.

“Ahh, fuck,” he mutters out. Quickly, you and another soldier cover up his wound.

“You’re gonna be fine, mate,” you say to him, “Keep applying pressure.” The other soldier nods and ensures that their hands are covering everything. “Alright guys, we have two options. One, we turn back, try to use this ridge as cover and try to make it back to base. Two, some of us stay here and try and snipe them. The others move in and try to take out their tanks. I saw them, they’re not very heavily guarded and I bet we could rush them and take out them out.”

Everyone looks around at each other. A few of them shrug non-chalantly. Finally, Colgate, a Second Liuetenant who had been given his nickname from the odd spelling of his last name, spoke up, “Let’s blow these motherfuckers.” Hearty laughs erupt from everyone.

Two people set up as snipers while the wounded guy also grabs his rifle to try and contribute. The restof you talk over the plan, deciding on two rushing to the left and taking out any guards covering the side and the rest go through the middle.

“Okay, everyone ready?” You ask to the group. You get nods in response, “Let’s roll out then.”

Stalking through the night, every footstep sounds painfully loud. The five of you successfully get to the tanks, two taking cover behind some storage container. The other three of you hide behind an abandoned car. Giving the go-ahead signal, everyone surges forward. Pressing down on the trigger of your gun, your arms shake from the recoil. You direct the bullets at the few guards standing around. If you weren’t able to see the bullets coming from beside you, you wouldn’t of known that anyone else was shooting. Everything seemed so distant, you could barely make out the sound of your own gun firing. As each one of the soldiers dropped, you rushed forward. Reaching into the backpack hanging off your back, you took out enough grenades to blow everything within their blast radius to bits. Placing them strategically around the tanks, you made sure everyone was ready to run before lighting the spark. Everyone started to sprint towards the snipers, who were covering you. As you began to run, you paused, looking down at the people you had just killed. A lump forms in your throat. You had killed them. You shot them with real bullets, not those Nerf darts you used against your siblings. They were dead. They were real people. Their families were going to get those letters, the same ones you swore you would never let Alessia get.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. Run!” A yell breaks you out of your thoughts. Remembering your current situation, you get going again, barely making it behind the sand ridge in time. The explosion rings through your ears, the sight of the fireball stretching upwards was spectacular. All eight of you let out a sigh of relief. You were safe, no one was going to find you, especially since they were all to preoccupied with checking on their tanks.

You sat down in the sand, putting your head in your hands. Tears slowly fall from your eyes. War had turned you into a monster. You killed without a second thought. You didn’t want to be here. The only place you wanted to be was in your Alessia’s arms. Preparing for your storybook wedding with the love of your life. Instead, here you were, in the middle of an all-out war, killing complete strangers for no apparent reason other than you were told to.

Monster.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #engwnt x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #woso x military reader

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Note

I’m just gonna drop a little gift here…

LOOK AT HIM SO FUCKING GORGEOUS AND HOT AND 😩😩😩😩😩

Ok love you byeeeee✌🏻

LOOK AT HIM. I say nothing is perfect and then he comes along. And are we getting a glimpse inside of Smartie's mind?

Daddy? Sorry.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 760 Warnings: Discussion of Bucky being d-addy. Hehe.

A/N: Stud and Smartie nonsense. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"You know what I don't get? The 'Daddy? Sorry.' thing," you told Natasha as you waited for Bucky to join you at the cafe for lunch. It was a beautiful day to sit outside. "Is it bad that I don't get it?"

"Not bad," Natasha replied, cocking an eyebrow at you and not questioning the out of the blue topic. "But what exactly are you not getting?"

"I guess calling a guy 'Daddy'," you shrugged, adding air quotes for good measure. "I've never done it."

"So, you haven't called Bucky 'Daddy'?" she smirked.

“No, I haven’t. I just said I haven’t called anyone that,” you said, holding your chin high when her expression didn’t change.

If there was one thing you appreciated about Natasha, she never made you feel dumb or embarrassed for any candid discussions you had with her. Even when she teased you, it was all in good fun. Bucky liked that the two of you became friends, though he preferred to be your main confidant. You felt the same way about him.

“But he isn’t just anyone.”

“I know,” you smiled, glancing around to see if he arrived yet. “He’s special.”

My future husband. I just know it.

“And you’re special to him, too. Can’t have Stud without Smartie,” the redhead said as you smiled more. It was nice to hear that. “Okay. In your mind, how would you describe a Daddy?”

You snorted a bit because you couldn’t believe this was where the conversation went. Well, you brought it up. You should’ve known your friend would ask questions. She did have a way of getting people to talk.

“Besides handsome?” you asked, getting a nod in agreement. You had to think about it before you continued. “I guess someone protective and maybe a bit dominant? Not in a controlling way, but in a ‘I want to take care of you’ kind of way.”

Bucky was the most protective person you knew. It wasn’t just physically standing up for you if he felt the need to step in and defend you. He cared about your mental well-being and feelings. And while he didn’t mind you taking the lead, he was very much the more dominant of the two of you. No matter what, you knew you were his number one priority in and out of bed.

“Go on,” she urged, taking a sip as she kept her neutral gaze on you.

A small smile touched your lips as you adjusted the hoodie you were wearing. It was Bucky’s, of course. “And I guess it can be playful and affectionate, like I want to tease him. Can you imagine if I called him that in front of everyone?” you asked, giggling as you pictured a couple of expressions he might give you from hearing the nickname. “But it’s also vulnerable, in a way, because it might sound awkward if I say it and he may not like it. What matters is that I trusted him enough to say it though and he might like it.”

I trust him to tell me the truth.

“Why do you think he’d like it?”

You looked at her without an ounce of shame. “Because it's that extra bit of assurance that I’m his.”

But it also says he’s mine, right?

Natasha gave you a rare wide smile. “Sounds like you understand it just fine.”

As if he sensed the two of you were discussing him, Bucky came into view. If your friend heard you whimper, she kindly didn’t call you out on it. Maybe she was used to you gazing at Bucky Barnes like he was a work of art that you had the privilege to touch.

Your brain tried to tell your eyes to quit looking at him like a creep, but you didn’t blink. You just stared at your man and tried not to drool as you took in his tight blue sweater and pulled back hair. His stance and size screamed “power” and you suddenly wished he’d bend you over the table and take you right there. There was also a softness about him that made you want to burrow in his arms and never leave.

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. OH. I fucking get it now. Is this a new kink unlocked? Wait, is it a kink?

“Call him ‘Daddy’ and I’ll pay for lunch,” Natasha offered as Bucky spotted you both and headed to the table.

“That’s a conversation for Daddy and I to have first,” you joked.

And knowing Bucky, he’d be happy with whatever you called him.

How do we think he'd react? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #stud and smartie #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes ficlet #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #beefy roommate au #roommate au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sparklesannie

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outsideratheart · 2 months

Text

A/N: I know it’s been a while since I posted the first snippet of this fic but I’ve been struggling with writer’s block which is think is just about gone.

To apologise here is another little part of it.

“Alexia, that is enough!” Lucy slams her fist on the locker before turning to her captain “She has come to this team and done nothing but good. She plays well for us and gives it her all on the pitch. Off it she makes the effort and yes sometimes she says no to things but isn’t that her right? You stand there as our captain but look at you, you’re nothing but a bully. I am ashamed to say i’m your team mate right now. That girl has been through hell these past couple of years and since coming here all you keep doing is reminding her of what has happened. You are obsessed with her. Look around, no one else is digging for information. No one is making her uncomfortable on a daily basis”

“She is lying to us. She won’t tell us where she was for over a year. She is hiding something and that isn’t fair on us” Alexia tried to defend her actions.

“Isn’t fair? Are you really that self centred? You have no right to talk about what is and is not fair. I don’t care if you are my captain, I won’t stand by you while you treat my best friend like she has done something wrong. You, Alexia, are a —“

“Lucy” The whole locker room turns upon hearing your voice “I have given up on Alexia, it’s time you do too”

“No! I won’t let her talk about you that way. You don’t deserve this”

“No I don’t but —“

“Y/N” Lucy begs you to let her fight you case.

“Walk away Lucy”

A stare down takes place between you and Lucy. A few seconds later the defender grabs her stuff and leaves the room. To everyone else you are calm and collected but Keira recognises the look in your eye, you are furious.

“I want everyone to listen to me and listen good. My past is none of your business. To those who have let the obsession go, thank you. To those that haven’t” you look Alexia dead in the eye “I want nothing to do with you. I will remain civil on the pitch. Other than that I ask you to stay away from me. That’s if you can respect my wishes. I know it has been hard so far”

You quietly gather your things and try to ignore the multiple sets of eyes on you. With each second you can feel your chest getting tighter and you know it is only a matter second before you will no longer be able to control your breathing. You just needed to get out of there, away from prying eyes.

The hallway is the furthest you got. You mind was filled of flashbacks, the moments that you tried so hard to bury. The past was not a pretty place, not the last year, but you know that it was only a matter of time before it came crashing down on you.

“Y/N, are you ok?” Mapi and Ingrid are by your side, clearly the couple had left just after you.

“Natalia, she, she”

Ingrid and Mapi shared a look, who was Natalia? They had never heard you mention a Natalia before. Both of them didn’t know what to do. Whilst you had become friends with the pair, they didn’t know you well enough to cope with this moment.

Luckily for them Keira appears out of nowhere. The English woman clearly equipped with what to do.

“Get Lucy, now!” She whisper shouted and Ingrid goes running hoping to catch the defender before she leaves.

“Keira—Natalia”

“I know, I know. We can talk about her later if you want. Right now, I need to focus on me. Can you do that?”

You nod your head as tears flow down your cheeks.

“What happened?” Lucy rushes over to you.

“We found her on the floor. She kept talking about Natalia”

“She told you?” Lucy asks shocked. She knew you wasn’t ready to tell them team but in a state of panic you might be let it slip.

“No. She only said her name” Mapi says. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. This wasn’t a panic attack, no she had seen one of those before. This was something much more intense.

A few minutes pass and Keira manages to keep your breathing under control but you’re still not ready to move. Lucy, Mapi and Ingrid stay close making sure to tell anyone who passes to keep moving.

“What is going on?” Alexia asks with concern, a concern that doesn’t reach Lucy in fact her asking is the worst thing she could have done.

“Get away from her” Lucy is up on her feet and pushing Alexia backwards. She would has fallen to the fall if not for the wall behind her “This is all your fault. You see this, you see her, this is what you have done to her”

“Lucy” you reach up and take her hand. The defender used her strength to pull you up.

You, Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid walk towards the exit of the stadium.

“Y/N” Alexia’s voice is soft and it is only now that she realises she might have taken things too far.

You turn around to face the Catalonian. For the first time since arriving you make no effort to hide the pain you have felt on a daily basis.

“I want nothing to do with you Alexia”

#woso x reader #alexia Putellas x reader

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kawaiikenna · 2 years

Text

Another fic of mine! It was inspired by some comments on another fic. Here’s the link for the ao3 posting. Support it on there if you’d like. -w-

Danny had been summoned to many, many different places. Creepy warehouses with cloaked hooded cultists chanting? Yep. The produce area of an abandoned supermarket? Check. Several girls’ slumber parties ages ranging from 12 to 25? Been there, done that. Hell, he’s even been summoned by a group of boys for no other reason than one of them had to prove that his sister wasn’t lying when she said that they had summoned the Ghost King at her last slumber party. Yeah, that was fun. No, not really.

But a daycare? Or at least somewhere he thought was a daycare? Now that was someplace Danny had never thought he’d be summoned to. But there he was. Plopped into a group of maybe 10-15 kids. Not fully eldritch but enough for other ‘normal’ humans to become extremely unsettled or flat out scared. Horns spiraled out from the sides of his head, limbs too long and skinny to be considered human, his hands held spindly long fingers tipped with icy claws, his eyes were normal if not for the black sclera instead of white. He was wearing his normal black and white hazmat suit with a fur lined cloak hanging heavy on his shoulders. Danny said nothing as he stared, flabbergasted, at the small, young boy crying on the ground. He had a really bad skinned knee that was bleeding a fair amount. It apparently was enough blood to trigger the summoning circle.

There were several other children around the room. All of them had frozen and stared either at the boy, or, blatantly, at Danny. He was too tired to deal with this. He had other shit to do rather than babysit random ass kids that inadvertently summoned him. So Danny bent down and took a look at the kid’s knee. He was as gentle as possible.

“Hey buddy.” Danny says softly. “That looks like it hurts. Would it be ok if I fixed it for you?”

The kid didn’t say anything, more just nodded but Danny wasn’t sure if he could even hear him. So Danny pulled out his emergency first aid kit and went about cleaning and bandaging the boy’s knee.

“What’s your name?” Danny asks gently as he disinfects the bloody wound.

“James.” A soft whisper answers.

“Well you’re very brave James.” He responds.

There isn’t anymore conversation after that, but the atmosphere was more relaxed now that Danny had demonstrated that he wasn’t a threat. By the time he had finished the other kids were surrounding them. They all looked incredibly curious. A few of the braver ones had asked questions while Danny had been doing. He thought that even if he usually didn’t deal well with kids, he did a pretty damn good job.

Danny made to stand up but instead was tackled back to the ground by a tiny body. He looked over his shoulder to find a little girl clinging to his cloak with all her might. She beams brightly up at him.

“Are you here to play with us?” She asks.

“Uhh, no?” Danny answered, confusion lacing his words.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because now there was another child pouncing on his back and two more holding onto each of his arms. All at once they tried to talk. Some in complaining tones, others in curiosity.

“Noo! You should stay and play!”

“Yeah! You have to stay and play ‘cause that’s the rules!”

“Yeah! That’s the rules!”

“How come you have a cape?”

“Do you like hide and seek?”

“Why’s your hair white? Does that mean you’re old?”

“If you’re old does that mean you can’t play hide and seek?”

“No! I don’t like hide and seek!”

“Yeah! He should come draw with us instead!”

“How come you have horns?”

“Are you dressed up for Halloween?”

“Halloween isn’t for a long time stupid!”

“Hey!”

Danny’s head was starting to spin. He hadn’t eaten since that morning. The ghosts had decided to make his life a living hell and attack him every ten minutes. Now with this, this was the icing on the cake. Summonings had become somewhat more of an often occurrence. Not by much but enough that it still messed up his day. But you know what? Today is a day to just roll with the punches. So Danny did play hide and seek. He also did some drawings. He even let some of the kids try on his cloak. He even gave some of the older kids flights around the room. Danny had sent a text to the group chat somewhat explaining the situation before focusing again on entertaining the tiny children.

When he asked about an adult that was in charge; he got the answer of mommy and daddy are dead or they weren’t coming back. So he assumed that this was kind of like an orphanage. One where older kids took care of the youngers and everyone watched each other’s backs. That really didn’t sit right with Danny but there really wasn’t anything he could do for them.

So instead he entertained them and played with them. He didn’t know how long they played together, but it was long enough to where the majority of the kids were falling asleep. So he gathered up the youngest ones and had a cuddle pile. His cloak became their blanket. Some of the older kids joined them as well.

They had finally gotten the last little one to sleep when Batman kicked the door down. Danny managed to snag the door before it hit the floor. Green energy enveloping it as he set it down carefully. The hero marched into the room, closely followed by a young woman dressed in what looked like one of those ‘sexy magician’ Halloween costumes he had seen before. Now, if Danny hadn’t been so tired he would have been embarrassed by his reaction. But since he was half mad from sleep deprivation, and maybe a little hunger, considering how long he had gone without an actual proper meal, there were no such feelings. So instead of calmly telling them to be quiet as to not wake up the other kids and that he would explain later. He threatened the pair.

“If either of you end up waking up even one of the kids I will personally make it my mission to make you’re lives extremely difficult.” Danny hisses dangerously, eyes flaring protectively.

The three year old cuddled into his left side stirred slightly. Hazel eyes blinking blearily up at him. Immediately calling Danny’s attention to the little boy. “Shh, shh, go back to sleep Sammy.”

A content purr sounding from the halfa. The little boy, Sammy, did as told and went back to sleep. Danny goes back to glaring at the two adults. He hisses softly when the magician lady takes a step forward. A warning to the back the hell up. Surprisingly she does exactly that and Danny stops hissing. Though his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion.

Batman opens his mouth, probably to demand answers and information, but Danny cuts him short with a warning growl. “I don’t care if you have questions or want to know why or how I got here. I’m waaay to friggin tired to give you any kind of satisfactory answer. So just let me sleep.” A large yawn escapes him. “If you guys want to stay until nap time is over then be my guest.”

Danny then closes his eyes and focused on the children cuddling closest to him. Miranda curls more into his chest, face halfway pressed to his collarbone, and hums sleepily. Adam wakes himself up a bit with a sudden loud snore but settles right back into Danny’s right side, his head resting on the older’s shoulder. Sarah is still situated between his legs with her head lolled in Miranda’s lap. Suzie has her back firmly pressed to the outside of Danny’s left thigh. Sammy’s feet are just barely touching the top of her head. Danny let’s himself relax and bask in the kids’ sleepy emotions. Just before he falls off into sleep he cracks open an eye.

Batman and the magician lady are talking in hushed whispers in the opposite corner of his not so little cuddle puddle. He probably could have listened in on their conversation with his enhanced hearing. Nah, that would take too much effort. So instead he just drops off. This is something future Danny will have to deal with. Current Danny just wants to take a damn nap.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #dc #dp #dc comics #dc x dp #batman #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #summonings #summoning circle #summoning #eldritch ghost king danny #ghost king danny #let the boy sleep #he just wants a nap

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lukeywritesstuff · 8 months

Note

Reader has a pregnancy scare over the summer at the lake house and dosent tell Jack at first so he gets mad. He doesn’t really want a child rn but ends up accepting that they will have a baby. But it’s just a scare so their are not going to actually be parents

baby? no baby.

jack hughes x reader

warning: angst, yelling, pregnancy scare, mentions of abortion, punching (m on m), vomit, swearing and suggestive sexual content (no actual smut)

note: i’m not from the states so all timing for drives and flights and stuff are made up because i’ve been trying to research how far detroit airport is from bloomington AND NO BLOOMINGTON IS COMING UP ON MAPS. i actually went a bit crazy writing this because of that. ALSO this is the first fic i’ve written in a couple years that isn’t a joke so please bear with me because it’s not perfect at all.

lowercase intended

this past week has been a nightmare, from waking up at 6:30 in the morning to throw up, to dealing with motion sickness on an airplane and dealing with my boyfriends absolute bullshit.

let’s start from the beginning: wednesday july 12th, the day i started feeling ill. it was around 5:30 in the morning the first time i threw up. that day i thought it was a bug so i didn’t think much of it. but it kept happening all week, and this freaked me out because i knew i was leaving for michigan on monday to visit my boyfriend jack and his family.

monday couldn’t have come any slower, knowing i needed to talk to ellen before anyone else, i was hoping for the day to come faster. she’d be the only one i can ask about what’s going on with me as i haven’t seen my own family since august of last year since i moved to jersey for college.

the flight was terrible but short, it didn’t help my nausea at all, specially with the turbulence, jack was late to pick me up because he left his phone at the house when he went boating with his brothers so i had to sit around the airport for a few hours. i’m not even gonna think about uber either cuz i’d rather get crushed by a plane than sit for hours in an uber with a complete stranger.

ok getting off topic here, we’ll we got to the lake house after a very uneventful and quiet drive from the airport. ellen was finishing up dinner and luke, quinn and jim were playing basketball in the driveway, which quickly came to a stop as jack pulled up smashing the horn causing quinn to (jokingly) throw the ball at the car. (it did not break at all.)

i settled in to jacks room and we ate dinner, we talked about the boys hockey and training and my school and what i’m doing after i graduate next year. jokes were cracked and it was fun, i actually forgot about jack being a bit of a dick for a good hour and a half. after i stayed in the kitchen with ellen to help clean up, jack and luke ran to the x-box in the other room probably to play fortnite.

‘el, this past week i’ve been feeling quite nauseous this past week and i was wondering if i should worry about it. knowing you’ve been pregnant a few times, i felt it was best to ask you for advice on the situation.’ i said to my boyfriends mother.

‘well if it goes on for a few more days i’d consider going to a doctor, but for now you can go to the pharmacy just down the street and try a rest or 2 if you wanna have an idea quicker.’ she said and i nodded.

‘wait you’re pregnant?’ i hear from by the counter. quinn. he heard.

‘i’m not sure. i was just about to go to the pharmacy to get a test’ i told him.

‘i’ll drive i want some gato and fuckass jack frank the last one.’ he said and i nodded.

we went to the pharmacy and got 2 tests (and a shit ton of blue gato for quinn) and we went back to the house. i went to the bathroom in ellen’s room to take them since she wants to be there for me and honestly i’m glad i did. she’s been so supportive even if it might just be a scare.

the tests came out positive. i broke down in tears and went out to ellen.

‘positive, i’m pregnant. and i’m only 21’ i said.

‘oh sweetie. it’s all gonna be okay. you’re gonna be a great mom and jacks gonna be a great dad.’ ellen said embracing me.

‘so she’s pregnant?’ quinn asked from the door. i just nod my head at him.

suddenly i hear from the hallway ‘who’s pregnant?’ and ‘is it mom? i think i’m a bit too old to be an older brother’ and then a little ‘ow’ after.

then quinn had to open his big ass mouth and say ‘no. it’s y/n. she’s pregnant.’

‘what?!’ jack yelled. ‘and you fucker knew before me? you fucking asshole!’ i heard before i see jack coke into the room angrily to punch his older brother in the face.

‘jack get off!’ i yelled pulling him.

‘i cant believe you told quinn before me! have him father your fucking kid. i don’t want it. i don’t want kids at all. specially right now. i’m at my prime right now! i don’t need a fucking baby ruining it all for me! get out of my house that’s not my kid! and if it is fucking abort it!’ he yelled while crying making me cry even more.

right after luke dragged him to his room and i can hear yelling between them as quinn and ellen comforted me in the master bedroom. todays been a lot for me so i eventually pass out in my boyfriend(?)’s parents room with his mother stroking my hair.

on wednesday, exactly a week after i started having my nausea i decided to visit a doctor to get the baby and i checked out. i haven’t talked to jack since he yelled at me so i go with ellen.

‘okay so it seems like you’re not actually pregnant and the test you took was wrong.‘ the doctor said to me.

honestly i have no idea if i’m relieved or sad. i was honestly quite happy to potentially be having a baby, even if jack was being a huge JACKass about it.

we got home and i saw jack sitting on the porch with a bouquet of flowers.

‘baby, i’ve thought everything over these past few days, and i’m actually excited to have a baby! with you! i apologize for everything i said, but it just hurt knowing quinn found out before me, because i am the dad. but now i am excited for this baby and this new chapter of our lives!’ he said smiling at the end.

‘jack, it was a scare. there’s no pregnancy. i’ve just been having a stomach bug the doctor told me. the tests were wrong too. i’m sorry.’ i said frowning.

‘oh. well i guess that means we just go upstairs and start actually making a baby, because i kinda want one now!’ jack said before pulling me in the house.

once we got up to the bedroom i hear ellen ushering everyone out, probably to spare themselves from having to hear whatever we’re getting up to upstairs.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes angst #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes imagine #luke hughes #quinn hughes

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

Note

pleaseee, a part 2 to ‘ you don’t want to know me ‘

i love jamie tartt so much and hurt / comfort is just my fave kind of writing <3

Got a rude interesting comment in my inbox about my content. It’s kind of a bummer how one that isn’t nice attempts to overshadow all the love that people give. I’m glad people enjoy my writing, but ultimately I write it for myself. Requests are super awesome because it helps me grow as a writer, but I do only write the things that I want to. And I think that’s ok. I’m happy that there are a lot of people who like to read the things I like to write, and I understand those that don’t. You don’t have to be unkind about it.

Anyway, thank you @jellycolors for this ask! Y’all really do like a pt. 2 morning after fic, don’t you?😂

never wanted you to hate me

The sun is at the perfect angle to shoot a beam directly into your eyes, waking you up at exactly 7:32am, twenty-eight minutes before your alarm is supposed to go off. It’s Sunday, which is stupid, because you’re supposed to sleep in. Instead, you’re awake in bed, with your blankets feeling warmer and heavier than usual. You blink your eyes open to Jamie Tartt, shirtless and on top of you, fast asleep. You’re pretty much pinned under him, unable (or unwilling) to move him off.

You wonder how long you should let Jamie sleep, and what he’s going to think when he wakes up like this. You’re sure this is a far cry from his usual mornings, usually with some model or something wrapped around him. You think since he’s the one holding you, it’s probably fine.

Jamie doesn’t wake up until your alarm goes off and when it does, he startles and almost rolls off the bed. You laugh at his look of utter confusion, as it takes him a moment to figure out where he is.

“You alright?” you ask, still grinning. Jamie, however, is not.

“Yeah,” he replies shortly. “Gonna get my things and get the fuck out of here.” He stalks out your bedroom without another word.

The way he’s acting is a far cry from the Jamie who asked you to sit on the bathroom sink last night so he wouldn’t be alone. In fact, it’s closer to the prickish version of himself that comes out on the pitch. You don’t like that he’s being that way with you, so you follow him to your living room.

“What the fuck was that?” you say to Jamie’s back as he bends down to get his jacket off the couch.

“Don’t know what you mean,” he replies, still not turning around.

You cross your arms. “You come here all- all sad and shit, fall asleep in my bed, tell me you fucking love me, and now you’re just leaving? What the fuck?”

Jamie stills. “I was just tired. Didn’t know what I was saying.”

That’s a lie, and you’re not going to let him get away with it.

You make your voice as steely as possible. “Jamie Tartt, if you think I’m fucking stupid as to think that I wouldn’t know you’re lying, then you might as well just go.”

Jamie turns to face you, and he looks a little wild. “Don’t think that just because we’ve known each other for thirteen years, that you fucking know me. Leave me the fuck alone.”

You squint at him. He’s wrong again. You do fucking know him. You know him so well that you understand exactly why he’s reacting this way. He hates being vulnerable in front of anyone, so now he’s trying to cut and run, pushing away one of the last people who actually cares about him.

Jamie’s still standing by the couch, clutching his Man City jacket, knuckles white. He’s still shirtless, breathing hard and waiting for you to fire back. You don’t.

Instead you say, so softly, “You know I never talk about you, right? Not gonna fuck off to some tabloid and tell them you said you love some girl you’ve known since you were ten.”

Jamie deflates a little so you continue. “We’re going to talk about all this. We’re going to talk about Roy Kent and your dad and the fact that your mum misses you so she calls me instead, and I’m going to make you breakfast and probably hold your hand and by the time you leave, you’re going to feel better and maybe actually feel fucking happy, because I see you in pictures, Jaim, and your smile really doesn’t reach your eyes anymore.”

“It’s fucked, ain’t it?” he says quietly. “I’m twenty-three, still letting me dad push me around.” He puts the jacket back on the couch and walks toward you. “And Roy Kent- he’s been my hero since I was a kid. He fucking hates me, and now he’s got a reason because I ended his fucking career. Me. And I have to live with that shit. It was the fucking worst game I’ve ever had to play. I hate being with City, especially since they all hate me for bein’ at Richmond. Pep’s the only one who didn’t say shit, just told me I was a good lad. I’ve been feeling all these emotional things and I didn’t want to go to me mum and I knew you lived ‘round here, so I thought I’d come over. You always made me feel better after seeing my dad.”

Jamie’s right in front of you now, rubbing a thumb on your cheekbone. You’re absolutely positive he can hear your heartbeat, and you dare to thread your arms around his waist.

“I loved you the first time I saw you. That’s why I was always hanging ‘round. Mum knew, she teased me about it for the longest time. Always tried to get me to say somethin’, but I weren’t ready. And you always fucking saw right through me, which freaked me the fuck out. Even now, I feel like- like you’re looking straight through me to my soul, and it’s fucking terrifying. But-” he takes a deep breath, “I also feel safe around you. I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause I’ve seen you eat so much cake you had to lie down on the couch and sleep it off.”

He’s grinning now, and so are you.

“Hey,” you say, poking his chest, “I was ten and you thought you were all great because you were a year older than me and way too smart to do shit like that, as if you haven’t puked from drinking too much.”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell, maybe you know too much about me.”

“Not possible, Tartt,” you reply. “Now, you need a shirt and I need to shower.”

He smiles. “I think you might need some help. Heard you hate showering alone.”

You laugh. “Alright, you knob. Guess it’s been long enough.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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footprintsinthesxnd · 2 years

Text

Next thing you know

Pairings: Hangman x reader

Thank you so much @imjess-themess for proofreading this for me.

Summary: The story of Jake Seresin falling in love.

This fic was inspired by a song called ‘Next Thing You Know’ by Jordan Davis and as soon as I heard it I couldn’t get the image of Jake out of my head so here it is.

Part 2

‘You meet a girl in a bar and next thing you know’

The Hard deck was packed when you walked in after Natasha. “Come on (y/n), I can see them.” She grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowds of people to the back of the room, where there was a large group of aviators huddled around a pool table. You recognised one of them as Bob, Nat’s backseater, who waved at you before realising he’d thrown half a cup of peanuts down himself. You smiled awkwardly at him as his round cheeks became dusted with pink. You had a soft spot for poor Bob.

“Well look who we have here. If it ain’t Phoenix,” a blond man stood with a pool stick in hand smiling over at them. “And you bought a friend too huh.”

“Leave her alone Hangman, she just moved here and she doesn’t need the likes of you trying to pounce on her.”

Hangman held his hands up in mock surrender, “As if I would,” he said innocently but you could tell that he was already plotting a way to talk to you.

“Everyone this is (y/n), she just moved here last week. She's the new Top Gun naval engineer.” A small wave of hellos passed through the group and you gave them all a small wave before they continued their game. You took a seat next to Bob while Nat went to grab some beers. “So how's your first week been,” Bob asked, pushing his glasses up his nose nervously.

“Umm yeah, it's been ok. Still trying to unpack everything, you know?” Bob nodded in agreement, before turning back to his cup of peanuts. You were watching the other aviators' game when you felt someone’s presence next to you. looking up you came face to face with Hangman. “Jake Seresin at your service.” You held his large hand out to you with a gleaming smile on his face.

“(Y/n),” you replied shyly, trying to avoid eye contact with the very attractive man in front of you. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh no darling, the pleasure is all mine.”

‘There’s a U-Haul trailer, next thing you know’

“Jesus darling, how many more boxes have you got,” Jake asked, coming through the front door into the kitchen where you were trying to fit everything into a cupboard.

“Not that much more, I only bought the essentials as you said you had everything.”

Jake laughed, placing the box on the kitchen counter and coming around to face you. He cradled your face in his hands and he leaned down to place a delicate kiss on your lips. He moved your hands up to tangle into his blonde hair and he let out a moan as you tugged on it softly.

“Oi love birds,” Rooster shouted from the doorway, “Are you gonna help unload this stuff or not?” You laughed and Jake smiled down at you, stroking your cheek softly.

“We’re coming, Roo, don’t worry.”

‘Next thing you know

You're savin' money like never before, just to

Spend it all at a jewellery store’

“I don’t know Roo. There are just so many to choose from. I don’t know which one (y/n) will want.” Jake sighed, slumping down on the car in the third jewellery store they’d been to.

Rooster looked sympathetically down at his fellow aviator. He’d never seen Jake so distressed before.

“Listen man, I know you want to pick the most perfect one, but honestly (y/n) isn’t the type of girl who wants a giant rock, she just wants you. Look at these over here, they are simple but elegant and (y/n) likes silver jewellery.”

He pulled Jake up off the chair and guided him towards the counter.

“Look, what about that one? It’s small and simple but it’s elegant and pretty.” Rooster looked at the other man questioningly.

“Umm yeah, actually I like that one. Do you think that’s the one?”

“I think it might be buddy. Do you think (y/n) will like it?”

“Yeah, I hope so. God, I just hope she says yes,” Jake’s eyes were filled with worry as he turned to his friend.

“You have nothing to worry about Jake, she is besotted with you.”

The evening had gone smoothly, you’d been out to dinner, and had a lovely walk along the beach and you were currently seated on the sand, watching the sunset. Jake had been acting strange all evening. He was nervous, you could see the sweat trickling down his forehead and his eyes couldn’t meet yours.

“Honey, what’s wrong,” you placed your hand on top of his and he jumped slightly at the contact.

“Umm…nothing… I” he stammered. Jake Seresin was never nervous, he always kept his cool but not tonight. “(Y/n) there’s uh… there’s something I want to ask you and I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment and… oh god I’m so nervous,” he laughed and stood up still not facing you. You sat there confused as you watched your boyfriend pace up and down in front of you.

“(Y/n) I never really was a love-at-first-sight kind of guy, I was never really a falling-in-love kind of guy. I’d never really had a serious relationship, and I’d certainly never lived with anyone but umm…. but when I met you everything changed. I wanted to be the man who was always there, who could be relied on. I wanted to be the guy that you always wanted to come home to. Who you could tell your secrets and fears to so I could make everything ok. I want to be that man for the rest of my life (y/n). I want to be that man for you. So I guess what I’m trying to say is…'' he stopped pacing and knelt in front of you, pulling a ring box from his pocket.

“What I’m trying to say is (y/n) will you make me the happiest man in the world and become my wife?”

You sat there, too shocked to speak, tears streaming down your face. Slowly, you lent forward, nodding frantically as you threw your arms around Jake’s neck.

“Umm darling I’m gonna need you to use your words,” Jake mumbled into your hair. You drew away quickly.

“Oh yes. God yes. 100% yes Jake! I love you so much.”

Jake beamed from ear to ear and laughed happily, slipping the delicate ring onto your finger.

“I love you too darling.”

‘Next thing you know

Your best man gives a half-drunk speech’

“And so yeah… that’s how Jake got his callsign.” Bradley slurred drunkenly, raising his glass of Prosecco into the air as he swayed wildly. Bob and Fanboy had hold of him on either side to stop him from falling.

Everyone laughed and Jake’s face was bright red, embarrassed that Bradley had just shared one of his biggest secrets. You laughed beside your husband. Husband. You couldn’t quite believe that this perfect man beside you was your husband, that he had chosen you. As if Jake knew what you were thinking he linked his hand with yours.

“You look, perfect darling. You're so beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” You smiled up at him before pressing a delicate kiss to his lips.

“Well, I think I’m the lucky one. I don’t know how I ended up with this hunk of an aviator but I'm so glad I did.” Jake pressed a loving kiss on your forehead and you shut your eyes, enjoying his warm embrace.

“I love you,” Jake whispered.

“I love you too.” Your peaceful moment was soon interrupted by Phoenix shouting for help as she disappeared after a very drunk Bradley who jumped around singing ‘Great Balls of Fire’. Jake sighed “Why do I always have to deal with a drunk Rooster? It’s always me.” He moaned, standing up from his chair. “Duty calls.”

You laughed, “ Go get ‘em handsome.” Smiling you watch your husband head over to your friends. At that moment you thought to yourself, you’d never really mentioned children to Jake before but he would make an amazing father.

‘Next thing you know

There's a test on the counter’

The test had been sitting on the bathroom side for half an hour now and you still couldn’t bring yourself to look. You were sitting on the bed next to Jake, hands interlocked as you both stared at the bathroom door.

“Darling, I think we should look. We need to know ok.” He rubbed a soothing circle on your lower back. You swallowed and nodded at him.

“You look. I’m too nervous… I can’t…” Your voice broke and a few tears trickled down your cheek. Jake caught them with this thumb as he held the side of your face. “It’s going to be ok love. Whatever the test shows it’s going to be ok.” With that he stood up and walked slowly into the bathroom, retrieving the test from the counter and slowly turning it over in his palm. You watched his face intently for any sign of a change and when he turned to you he had a bright smile on his face and tears filled his green eyes. “Baby it’s positive.” You looked at him shocked as he hurried over to you, placing the white stick into your palm. You looked down, hands shaking as you saw it, that little pink plus. Your breathing increased, hands continued to shake as you turned to your husband. “It’s… it’s positive… I’m… we’re having a baby Jake… we’re having a baby.”

“Yes, we are,” Jake sobbed, pulling you into him as you both cried. “We’re going to be parents.” He cried into your shoulder and you held him close, you were now comforting him. “We are Jake, we are.” You both held each other for a long time and by the time you finally let go it had become dark outside. “First thing tomorrow we need to go to the doctor, I wanna get one of those little picture things to show the Dagger Squad.” Jake began reeling off all the things we’d have to do and things we would need.

“Jake. Jake just calm down, baby. Ok. It’s ok we can do this, let's just take things slow. Tomorrow we can go for a scan and get a sonogram.”

“Ok,” Jake replied, grinning like a madman. “Thank you so much.” He said before pulling you in for another hug. “Thank you.”

‘Cause next thing you know

You're wearing scrubs and a funny white hat and the

Doctor's sayin', how you doin' there dad’

Your entire pregnancy has gone smoothly. The baby had been growing well and you’d had little discomfort with very little morning sickness. Jake kept telling you how much you were growling and he loved you more and more each day. You had everything planned and your hospital bag packed but your baby had other ideas. You’d had cramps all evening and Jake had been rubbing your back and giving you hot water bottles to try and help. You’d both gone to bed early but you were woken in the early hours of the morning in agony. You groaned, propping yourself up and that’s when you felt the wetness between your legs, pulling back the covers you were met with a scene from a horror film. There was blood all down your legs and all over the sheets. “Jake!” You grabbed his shoulder, shaking it violently. “Jake please,” you sobbed, shaking your husband as he woke up with a start.

“Darling? Darling, what’s wrong?” He looked down at you and his face beams deathly white. “Oh shit. Darling, we gotta get you to the hospital. Come on.” He helped you up and out to the car, before grabbing the hospital bag. You must have broken every traffic law on the way to the hospital.

You were crying in agony when you got to the hospital and Jake carried you from the car and into the lobby. As soon as you were in the hospital it was like a whirlwind. There were doctors and nurses everywhere and the pain was getting worse. Jake was there throughout, smoothing the hair across your head and whispering comforting words in your ear. At one point one of the doctors took Jake out of the room and it seemed like an eternity until they returned. You found yourself becoming more tired and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. You could hear the heartbeat monitor beside you slowing slightly and Jake’s voice in the distance before everything went black.

It was something from Jake’s worst nightmare. He’d read up on all the things that could go wrong throughout pregnancy but he never thought it would happen to you. As soon as you crashed he was ushered out of the room by a nurse and forced to sit in the waiting room as he watched more and more staff flood into your room. Not long after a doctor came out and explained that you had hemorrhaged and was thrusting a consent form for a c- section under his nose. Jake was frozen to the spot as the doctor explained all the risks but he didn’t have a choice. It was your only choice and he wasn’t about to let you die. He signed it quickly before passing it back to the doctor.

“You have to save them please.” He could feel tears streaming down.

“We will do our best.” Was all the doctor said before walking down the corridor. Jake broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. He could lose you, he couldn’t lose either of you. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled the number of the only person he could think of.

“Hey Jake what’s up? It’s pretty early man, what are you doing up?”

“I… I need you. Something wrong with (y/n)… the baby… I.”

“Hey, hey man slow down. Where are you?” Rooster asked, adrenaline running through his veins.

“We’re Umm… we’re at the hospital.”

“I’m on my way. Ok. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jake hung up without replying and sat there in silence. There was nothing else he could do except sit and wait. When Bradley arrived the tears came flooding again and he held Jake in his arms, trying to comfort him. He’d sent a message to Phoenix on the way over here and she said she’d pass the news on to the rest of the Dagger Squad. They all pulled together during (y/n)’s pregnancy and had become a support net for the couple so they were all feeling the same fear Jake was.

They couldn’t lose (y/n) and the baby.

It felt like hours they had sat in the waiting room before eventually, the doctor came to see them. He explained that (y/n)’s condition was stable and so was the baby. They were both going to be ok. He allowed both men into your room although you were still recovering from the anaesthetic.

Jake couldn’t believe his eyes when he walked in. You were so very pale and your eyes were still closed. “Oh baby,” Jake rushed to your side, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed your forehead. Tears began to flow down his cheeks again. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“Mr. Seresin?” One of the nurses was standing in the doorway with a small white bundle in her arms. “I thought you’d like to meet your son.”

“My…my son? I have a son?” Jake stammered, stumbling towards the door.

“Yes, you do. You have a son. Would you like to take a seat and then you can hold him?”

Jake wordlessly sat in the chair beside your bed and the nurse placed the small bundle into his arms before leaving the room. Looking down Jake could see the tiny little human wriggling around in his blanket. He had his eyes and your nose and a small dusting of blonde hair on his head. “He’s perfect,” Jake whispered and Rooster made his way over to his friend, peeking over his shoulder. “Oh, Jake, he's beautiful. He looks just like you guys.”

Jake nodded, silently taking in his son's appearance. The two men didn’t notice as you stirred beside them. Your eyes fluttered open and you took in your surroundings. The pain you felt earlier was now just a dull ache, although you felt sore across your lower abdomen. You turned to your side and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Your husband was sitting, tears in his eyes, smiling down at a small white bundle, while Bradley was standing beside him with the same look of awe on his face. You coughed lightly and the two men looked up at you. “Oh, darling, you're awake.” Jake handed the baby over to Bradley, who stood awkwardly, trying to support his head.

“Oh, god love. You gave me such a fright, I thought I’d lost you.” Jake’s eyes shone with tears and you reached up your hand, cradling his face. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” You laughed.

“Don’t worry darling, I never want to get rid of you. I love you so much. I…” He began when there was a soft cry from behind you. You both looked around at Bradley who was grinning excitedly. “(Y/n) there’s someone here who's very keen to meet you.” Jake helped prop you up with the pillows, as Bradley slowly bought your son over.

“Oh, Jake, they're beautiful.” You said as the child was lowered into your arms.

“Yes, he is.” Jake agreed.

“He? Do we have a son? Jake, we have a baby boy. Hi little guy I’m your mummy.”

“You certainly know how to make an entrance little man.”

The couple looked so comfortable, cuddled up together with their newborn. Bradley snapped a quick picture before saying his goodbyes. He sent the picture straight to the Dagger group chat, who were all relieved that both (y/n) and the baby were ok.

“Have you thought of any names for the little guy?”

Jake nuzzled his face into your shoulder. “Well we talked about so many different names but after everything we went through tonight there’s only one I can think of.” You looked at him questioningly.

Jake continued, “well when you crashed and the doctors said you needed surgery the only person I could think of calling was Bradley. He’s been there for us through everything and…”

“I think Bradley’s perfect.” You grinned at your husband.

“You do?“ He asked, eyes filled with hope.

“Yes, I do.”

You both looked down at the little boy in your arms. “Hey Bradley, welcome to the world.”

Nestled in that hospital room was Jake’s whole world, he couldn’t see a world without you in it and now he couldn’t see one without Bradley either.

Tags: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @topguncortez @blue-aconite @mayhem24-7forever @a-reader-and-a-writer

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my writing or use the tag list in my bio

#top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #topgun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year

Note

Can you please please make a part 2 of the one of the first with kento 🥺 I NEED them to make up my heart can’t take angst. :(

So, I went ahead and combined these two asks because I assume they're talking about the same fic.

and while normally I'm not super big on part twos, we couldn't leave our lovers in such turmoil, now could we?

find pt.1 here!

Now Presenting...

Starring an absolutely desperate Kento Nanami

You felt dirty sitting on Satoru’s couch, but in the aftermath you had no idea where else to go. After you and Nanami broke up in that stupid fucking fight, you felt lost, but you knew you needed a place to stay. It felt wrong, partly because you knew Gojo had feelings for you, but mostly because you weren’t home. You couldn’t go home. Home told you to leave.

“Have you tried getting a hold of him yet?” Gojo asked, sitting next to you on the couch with two cups of tea, one the perfect way you liked it. You’d been staying with him for two weeks now, and in that time he managed to fall into tune with you as best as he could. Though it didn’t feel nearly as natural as it did with Kento, you appreciated his efforts.

“No.” You shook your head, looking down at your phone. He had been trying desperately to get ahold of you, you just couldn’t bring yourself to answer his calls. “I just…I can’t talk to him yet. He hurt me, I-”

“You don’t have to explain anything.” Gojo assured you. “I’m not here to tell you how to handle your break up. But, I will say..” He paused, trying to find the most empathetic way to put this. “He’s hurting too. I think he’s ready to try and make up.” You let out a defeated chuckle. Gojo really was an amazing friend. Despite his feelings for you, he never tried to make a move, and had in fact even been advocating for you guys to make up.

But, this wasn’t just a regular fight. Nanami broke up with you. How do you come back from that? “He’s the one that broke up with me.” You reminded your friend.

“Yea, and then he found his mind again, realized the total ass he made of himself, and wants to try and undo it.” You laughed a little at Gojos phrasing, but it hurt. Your smile felt like an open wound these days, begging for salt.

“Well then that sucks for him.”

“Ok, well then, when do you want to go and get your stuff from his apartment?” Gojo finally asked. “If you’re sure this relationship is dead, you might as well take it off life support, right?” you sighed. Gojo was right. If you weren’t going to take the initiative to try and get back together, might as well tie up the loose ends.

“Tomorrow.” You said with a harsh nod, as if that was what made it final. “Kento should be in the states now. I'll just leave my key on the bar.” You muttered. Gojo nodded and took a drink of his tea.

“Alright then. I can give you a ride tomorrow.”

💛💛💛

The air was thick as blood as you made your way to Nanami's house. You didn’t have any tears left in you to shed, so the sky wept for you. You and Gojo respected enough to keep the drive quiet. This was it. This was final. Once you remove yourself from his apartment…You’ll have no connection to Nanami left. That burden was more than an anchor on your soul, it was a fucking canon ball. Tearing you apart as it tore through you.

“Is that his Fucking car?!” You yelped as Nanami's apartment came into view and, yes, his car. “Isn’t he supposed to be in the states?!”

“He probably got a ride to the airport Y/n.” Gojo reminded you. Oh. Yea. that was actually really logical, who leaves their car at the airport for a month?

“Oh, right.” You muttered, embarrassment lacing your voice. Gojo parked next to Nanami's car.

“Want me to go in with you?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I just…I need some time to..say goodbye, I guess?” you muttered. Gojo nodded and patted your back softly.

“Let me know if you need me.” He muttered to you as you left the car, making your way up the stairs to say goodbye to the only home you’ve ever known. You slid your kid into the door and hesitated. This was it. This was the last time you’d ever do this. You took a deep, jagged breath, and opened the door.

Only to be met with the face of your ex, sitting at his bar, nursing a coke and whiskey at 9 am, looking like a deer in headlights as he stared at his opening door. You didn’t imagine you looked any better. You both sat there, staring at each other in a very loud silence. Both of you daring the other to break the tension somehow. It felt like someone had pressed pause on the movie of your life at the worst possible time, so, you decided to press play.

“I thought you were supposed to be in the states..” You muttered, stepping in and closing the door.

“I told them to give the job to someone else..” He felt so childish and stupid saying it. It really had been easy that whole time, and it was killing him. He’d thrown away his relationship over fucking nothing, like a fool. Like a fucking petulant child. “You were right..” He admitted.

The ease at which he was able to get out of the business trip sent another wave of red hot rage through you. You scoffed.

“Well, I’m just here to get my stuff, then I’ll go.” you huffed. Suddenly, Nanami was on his feet, reaching out to you in almost fear.

“No, don’t go.” He begged. “I-I never wanted you to go-”

“Then why did you tell me to leave?” You cut him off, more heat to your voice than you ever intended.

“Because I was frustrated, refusing to see your side and when I saw my side falter, I lashed out in the most childish way possible.” Of course, leave it to Kento Nanami to over analyze any interaction to cut down to the heart of it and articulate the problem with the confidence of a therapist.

“Yea, well…your words still hurt me!” You said, not having the articulation Nanami did when it came to emotions.

“I know, and I’m so, so sorry. I never should have let my feelings hurt yours.” Nanami said, slowly approaching you. He wanted to pull you into his arms, to kiss you like he’d never kissed before, to remind you just how much he loved you. But, he didn’t want to scare you away even more. You stood in his living room, crossing your arms and trying not to let him in. Why were you trying so hard not to let him in?

“I’m not going to apologize.” You muttered.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Nanami said, finally close enough to touch you. He gently placed his hands on your hips. “You just wanted me to be home..”

“I still want you to be home…” You muttered softly, letting him pull you closer.

“I want to be home…” He assured you, “And I want you to be home too…” he purred as he pulled you into his chest. For the first time in two weeks you felt warm and truly safe. Your heart burst out with rays of sunshine, and your soul called out to him in overwhelming ways. You gave into the undeniable pull that was Nanami, falling into a full hug and burying your face into his chest. You felt hot tears spring to your eyes as emotions overwhelmed you.

“Ken..” You muttered, looking up at him through bleary eyes.

“I missed you so much Y/n,” Nanami promised, showing he was thinking exactly what you were, as he pulled you into a kiss. Nothing had ever felt more right. Like the universe had finally corrected itself and righted its course. The world made sense again. Gravity held you down, earth revolved around the sun, and you loved Kento Nanami.

He pulled you closer, his warmth overwhelming you. He tasted like cinnamon whiskey, which was fitting because you swore you were getting drunk on his presence. Your body called out to Nanami, and he answered, his hands starting to wander down your body. The kiss was shifting from gentle to desperate quicker that you could fully keep up with. Your arms moved from around his waist to tangle into his hair.

“I love you Y/n” Nanami panted as he pulled away from the kiss, “I need you.”

“I need you too.” You confirmed. That was all Nanami needed to hear. He picked you up desperately, wasting no time in getting you to the bedroom. He laid you on the bed and immediately started to kiss you again. He needed to kiss you more than he needed to breathe. You kissed him back like it was the last thing keeping you grounded to this earth. You clung to him desperately, silently begging him to never let you go again.

His hands fumbled with the button of your jeans, ripping them and your underwear off you as quickly as possible. He needed you now. You quickly undid his belt and unzipped his slacks, needing him just as bad as he needed you. His hands slipped in between your legs, his fingers slipping in between your folds. The two of you hadn’t fallen out of sync. He massaged expert circles into your clit, earning him a sweet moan from you. God, he had heard nothing more beautiful in his life.

Two of his fingers managed to slip into your weeping pussy, and he actually chuckled a bit. “Did you miss me darling?” He teased, noticing how warm of a welcome your cunt gave him. You just moaned in response, focused on how the pleasure built up inside of you. You death gripped his shirt as the ecstasy began to grow overwhelming.

“Fuck Ken, please..” You moaned out as Nanami curled his fingers into you, massaging your overly sensitive g-spot. “I need you so bad..” Say no more. He finished what you had started, pushing his pants down enough to free his cock.

You moaned out his name as he pushed inside of you, a heat already building up inside of your stomach to let you know you weren’t going to last long. “Fuck, I missed you so much..” Nanami whimpered as he bottomed out into your warmth, your pussy drawing him in, welcoming him home. He spent more than a few nights these past two weeks fantasizing about this cunt, but there was no way in the world his fist could ever come close to the real deal.

“I missed you too,” You whimpered out, struggling at the brutal pace Nanami set. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to fuck you into a coma. You wouldn’t be all that mad if he did. Your body sang in elation to be rejoined with him, every nerve ending you had exploding in euphoria.

Nanami's lips connected with your neck, sucking a harsh mark there, followed by a rough kiss. “You’re mine, ok?” He growled in an uncharacteristically possessive way, one that sent butterflies straight to your cunt. “You’re mine.”

“Ok,” You moaned breathlessly, the heat building into an overwhelming crescendo.

“Say it.” He demanded.

“What?” your brain was not functioning at the level he currently demanded.

“Say. It.” He growled, punctuating every word with a particularly hard thrust to your cervix. You whined out in pleasure and pain.

“I’m yours!” You yelled, “I’m yours Kento, all yours and only yours!” You whined out.

“Atta girl,” Nanami purred, one of his hands slipping down to massage your clit, setting every inch of you on fire. You were running to the edge faster than the speed of light, and stopping at this point was impossible.

“K-Ken, I’m-!” Which is as far as you got before you flew over the edge, squirting all over your lover, his cock buried deep inside of you. Nanami fucked your fluttering pussy, losing himself in everything you. He wasn't far behind you, cumming into your cervix just as you were coming down from your own high, a string of curses and praise falling from his lips.

Nanami narrowly avoided collapsing on you, pulling out managing to fall next to you instead. He wasted no time in pulling you into his arms though. He had no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

“I love you…” he whispered softly.

“I love you too…” you whispered back. A knock on the door startled you both, you letting out a yelp while Nanami pulled you into a protective grip.

“So are you guys back together now, or what?” Gojo asked from the other side of the door.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x reader smut #pussy drunk nanami #nanami angst #nanami x reader angst #fluff if ya squint #nanami kento smut

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plutowrites · 3 months

Text

𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣'𝙨 𝘾𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙉𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙔𝙤𝙪! (reworked)

important: I rewrote this fic (favorite Levi piece i’ve ever written) because I’ve been planning to do so for ages. I remember writing the original version in one night, and it was the most fun I’ve had writing a fic. I wanted to rewrite it because I knew it could be improved significantly, and in my humble opinion, this version is indeed a million times better! Just like the first time, I had so much fun working on this and making changes to improve the flow, fix typos, and include some extra fluff here and there. If you’ve read this before, I hope you can give it another try! mwahhh ♡

➸pairings: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

➸synopsis: the one where levi gets you as an assistant against his will and it turns out he needed you more than his company ever did

➸genre: enemies-ish (levi is just levi and y/n doesn’t get him yet) to friends to lovers, pining, modern au, fluff

➸contains: lots of sarcasm (Levi), profanity (again, Levi), mentions of food and eating. if there’s anything i missed pls let me know! Also completely sfw btw (as it usually is)

➸wordcount: 5.7k (updated word count)

➸(original) note: ok so I totally forgot Levi’s bday takes place on christmas so just ignore that fact, thank you :) i really hope you guys enjoy this one, i really enjoyed writing it. like a lot. as in this is my favourite piece i’ve ever written ♡

“Prior work experience?” Mr.Ackerman asks, his dark eyes scanning over you like you’re a puzzle he can’t be bothered to solve.

As the question hangs in the air, you find yourself shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. The impulse to talk with your hands, a habit when you’re feeling nervous, fights for release. You can sense mr. stone-face in front of you might not appreciate such animated conversation, or a one-person mime show so you resist the urge. “Well, let’s see,” you start, trying to recall your job history. “I was a sales associate at a retail store, a freelance writer for a few local magazines and websites, a long-term babysitter for three very naughty yet wonderful french children, oh and I briefly worked as a waitress— that was when I was eighteen but—”

The man interrupts you with a dry click of his tongue, his patience clearly wearing thin. “I mean, do you have any experience in this line of work?”

His question catches you off guard, prompting a frown. Isn’t he aware that every job has its messes? You’ve been part of the cleanup crew more times than you can count, and not to mention when you were a babysitter, you had to constantly tidy up after school aged children and the mess that always seems to follow them wherever they go. Whose fault is it that he’s not impressed by your eclectic job history?

Mr. Ackerman pinches the bridge of his nose, cutting through your thoughts, and exhales, “Can you f—cking clean?”

“Of course I can clean,” You snap back, your own patience fraying. “You hired me for this position, right? Besides, I’ve already passed the interview so why this interrogation now?”

Ugh. You were not expecting to get grilled at 8:30 in the morning today. Is this what the onboarding process at Mr. Ackerman’s Cleaning Services looks like?

He looks past you, probably wishing he could swap you with the agreeable plant behind you. “I didn’t hire you, Erwin did,” he clarifies, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. You watch him take a sip from his mug. The way he’s holding the cup intrigues you with his long, slender fingers barely clasping its rim yet he manages it with an effortless grace.

You remembered Erwin during your interview, the handsome blond man with broad shoulders and thick eyebrows. He was the one who asked the majority of the questions while his counterpart remained oddly quiet. Mr. Ackerman did, however, chime in near the end to pester you about how often you washed your hands. You fold your arms across your chest, defensively, “Had no idea you were against the idea of me.”

You remember when you got the position; a quick phone call with Erwin approximately 30 minutes after your interview, where he tells you that you had in fact gotten the job. You felt impressed with yourself. You knew it was the shorter, dark haired man that ran the business, and considering how indifferently he was behaving during the interview, you were already looking at new postings online when your phone rang. Getting the job was like passing a test you thought you had completely bombed.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was against hiring at all; I don’t need an assistant.” His tone is dismissive, yet his physical state—a sling on his right arm and a fracture boot on his left foot—tells a story of necessity, not choice. You want to teasingly ask how the other guy looks but you bite your tongue instead.

Maybe he’ll share what happened to him over time but for now, you won’t pester him about it. Based on this interaction alone, you know asking him such a personal question is not the best route to go. Mr. Sunshine seems like the type of no-nonsense, stick-in-the-mud that doesn’t appreciate a little conversation to make the day’s work go by faster. Unluckily for him though, you were the opposite of that.

“Mr. Ackerman,” you call out his name uneasily, feeling a mix of dread and embarrassment. Your boss had left you alone to retrieve something and in that time he was gone, you had already made a huge mistake. As Levi comes back into the kitchen, you notice his focus is on trying to put on thick, black sterile gloves instead of your blunder.

“Just Levi,” he corrects you without turning to face you. You grow more nervous.

“Okay, Levi…” You draw out his name, hoping it might soften the blow. “Um, where might one find a mop?”

His turn is cinematic, a perfect pivot of disbelief as his eyes land on the ocean of sticky raspberry lemonade—and you, the unfortunate island at its center. The same lemonade the kind owner of the house you were cleaning left out for you two to drink. The jug, now empty and rolling to a stop at his boot, seems to mock you both. He can’t seem to peel his eyes away from it.

“I was gone for five f—cking seconds.” The utter shock in his voice, evident.

“I didn’t peg you as a lemonade type of guy. I can make you some more if you’re that sad about it,” you awkwardly quip, trying to ease the tension in the room and failing, pathetically.

Levi’s response is flat, “You were supposed to help clean up messes, not create—or become them.”

Ouch.

By the end of the shift, Levi ended up doing most of the work which thoroughly impressed you. You’re certain that if he wasn’t limited by his fractured bones, he would cut his cleaning time by, at the very least, half. Still, he completed all the tasks before the client was back and with time to spare at that. Your role, it seemed, was relegated to fetching and carrying— you were simply a mobile extension of his toolkit. Disinfectants, buckets, and other cleaning materials pass from the van to his waiting hand, and your efforts were aimed at being useful, or at least not a speed bump in his way.

Anything Levi could do with one hand and one leg, he’d do it and everything else, he’d at least try. You felt more like a liability than an employee but that only made you more determined to be better next time, you wanted to prove to him that you could actually do your job and be good at it.

You are good at things.

You just needed to mess up a few times first.

Here’s what you know so far about your boss: He’s mastered the art of drinking tea while driving, never spilling a drop, even one-handed. His social circle is super tight-knit, featuring exactly two friends—one being Erwin Smith, who you’ve met already, and the other is Hange, who, from your top-notch eavesdropping skills, seems to bear the brunt of Levi’s scolding.

And lastly, you’ve learned that Levi’s vocabulary is dripping with colorful language.

“That’s not clean,” comes his voice from behind you, prompting an eye roll before you shove the plate back under the running faucet. A half-hearted swipe with the sponge and a too-forceful toss into the sink’s other side result in a loud clash. “Dirty and probably f—cking broken now, too,” Levi comments, sounding bored.

“Sorry,” you mutter. This marks the first time today he’s felt the need to correct you—a personal victory. You’ve been improving, receiving fewer icy critiques with each passing day. Maybe Levi’s just run out of energy for constant corrections, or perhaps he’s grown accustomed to your unique… flair. Either way, you’re grateful for the silence.

“You’re done, brat. Go home.”

“Don’t you need help with the counters?”

“I got it.”

You nod at this, turning off the water and drying your hands on the apron’s front-pocket towel, relief washing over you as the day wraps up. You can’t help but wonder what Levi does after hours—probably waits for you to leave so he can meticulously re-clean everything. But, you figure, if he really doubted your skills that much, he wouldn’t bother waiting for your exit to do it.

“Good job today.”

Levi’s words catch you off-guard, nearly causing you to gasp. The Levi Ackerman, offering praise? Have you smelled too many cleaning solutions? Are you imagining things?

He doesn’t see your shocked expression, your mouth hanging open in surprise. You quickly stifle a smile.

Maybe, working with Levi Ackerman won’t be the nightmare you had anticipated.

It was uncommon for the Ackerman company to have a client that requested cleaning services for any place other than their home but on some rare instances, the business would get one that would request Levi for a much larger setting.

Today, you two were cleaning hotel rooms.

“I take it this isn’t your first rodeo,” you comment, noting how Levi, despite being down to just two operational limbs, zips through tasks with astonishing speed. Your job is to vacuum the ugly, vomit green carpet, while Levi single-handedly makes the queen beds look pristine—a feat that seems Herculean.

He signals you over, instructing you to strip the beds so he can check for bedbugs. “I’ve cleaned here before, yes,” he says with a frown, urging you to lift the mattress higher. “No, higher. Y/n. Higher. Are you making fun of my height?”

“No!” you protest, but the smirk on your face betrays you. You could swear you see the corners of Levi’s mouth twitch in response. This is the first time you’ve ever seen your boss smile.

Kenny Ackerman, Levi’s uncle, is the polar opposite—always grinning and brimming with charm. His visits, armed with homemade lunches for Levi and flirty comments for you, are a welcome break from the norm. Levi, one time catching you staring at the lunch Kenny brought in a brown paper bag, admits his uncle started bringing food over when he first got hurt.

“Is Ken really your uncle, or more like a family friend uncle?“ You inquire as you both move to the next suite, settling into a comfortable work rhythm. Levi seems unfazed by your curiosity, which you’ve piqued frequently over the past few weeks.

He ignores your question but raises an eyebrow at you, “Ken?”

You press on, asking if Kenny might be a close friend of his dad’s, given their dissimilar appearances. Levi’s reaction to the mention of his father is a clear signal to change the subject.

"Fluff the pillow on your side, brat,” he instructs next.

You’re not sure what constitutes fluffing but you attempt to do so anyway by gently pressing down on the soft pillow. You can feel the heat of Levi’s glare torching you but when you look up at him, he looks sort of amused. “What palace were you raised in?”

“Huh?”

“Let me rephrase that then—do you not know what fluffing a pillow is?”

“I just did it!”

“No. What you did was give that pillow a shitty massage. Give it to me.” After you hand it to him, Levi aggressively demonstrates what he wants you to do but it looks awkward because he’s doing it with one arm. “F— ck,” he curses under his breath. “Maybe I should hire an assistant for this shit.”

You can’t help but smile, recognizing this interaction for what it is—Levi’s way of opening up. These past weeks have shown you that his gruff exterior hides a form of friendly banter, warming you from the inside out whenever you get to experience it.

You’ve actually begun to look forward to Levi’s humour.

Odd.

You have got to stop staring and you know this. It’s just whenever he’s preoccupied with something and his concentration is laser focused, you can’t keep your eyes off him. You’ve convinced yourself that this was the safest way you could be semi-creepy and so far, it’s proven to be effective.

Right now, he’s on a very urgent and pressing phone call, at least that’s what it looks like to you. Just the mere thought of Levi taking notice of you gawking at him from above through a crack in the curtains is enough to send you spiralling. And yet here you are…still…

“Y/n, you’re staring.”

Shit.

Thankfully, it’s Erwin who catches you, not Levi. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you scramble for an excuse. “No, I w-wasn’t. I was j-just—”

Erwin’s laughter cuts you off, deep and rich. “It’s fine. I stare at him all the time. The difference is he doesn’t cuss you out the way he does me.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean? You think he’s noticed me staring?” You sneak another glance at Levi, who’s now expressing his disdain for the caller, blissfully unaware of your current predicament.

“Most definitely. And his silence on the matter is telling,” Erwin says with a reassuring smile. But his words leave you more curious than comforted. What does Levi’s silence mean? He continues, “It’s his birthday tomorrow since I know he wouldn’t dare tell you. Do what you wish with that information.”

As if he had a special sixth sense that alerted him that he is the topic of discussion upstairs, Levi waltzes into his office and squints with suspicion at the two of you huddled in a hush-hush conversation. “Oi, eyebrows. Don’t you have a vulnerable citizen to harass for their vote somewhere?”

Erwin shakes his head as he laughs. Looking at you, he says, “Don’t listen to him. I’m not a dirty politician.”

“You’re definitely dirty, get off my chair.”

One thing you wonder about when you see these two in action is how they ever became friends. They aren’t exactly drowning in similarities or mutual interests but you couldn’t deny that there is a deep-rooted respect that goes further than what you’re able to decipher. You do know that Erwin owns the entire building and he lets Levi rent office space and storage rooms here but you question which came first: the business relationship or the friendship?

“Before I head out,” Erwin turns to face you, “I can count on your vote, right? For the upcoming election?” He asks, raised eyebrows and all. The surrounding air is filled with his scent. His woodsy cologne is thick but pleasant—it suits him.

Before you’re able to answer, Levi cuts you off, “My office is not a breeding ground for your pathetic campaign efforts.”

“My building.”

“F—ck off.”

You smile at their banter— their exchange is a familiar dance, one you’ve grown accustomed to observing. But your thoughts are elsewhere, pondering Levi’s upcoming birthday. You’re grateful Erwin mentioned it; he’s right, Levi would never share that information himself.

You find yourself wanting to do something for him— maybe get him a gift? What started off as a hostile, awkward work relationship has blossomed into a real friendship and you would never let a friend’s birthday go by without doing a little something special for them.

Levi also is a great boss, who deserves a birthday treat.

Perhaps there’s more to your admiration than you’re willing to admit quite yet.

Arriving at Levi’s office early in the morning, you’re greeted by the sight of him on his laptop, deeply engrossed in his work, his fingers flying across his keyboard. The morning light catches in his dark hair— the sun rays highlighting his intense gray-blue eyes. You can’t help but be captivated as he brushes his hair back with a weary hand. You lose your mind when he does that; he’s blissfully unaware of how mind-blowingly attractive he is.

You linger in the doorway awkwardly, feeling suddenly out of place, reminiscent of a child caught in a mischievous act. When Levi finally notices you, his sigh fills the room. “It’s your day off.”

Taking his acknowledgment as an invitation, you step inside, cheerfully reminding him, “It’s your birthdaaaay,” your voice in a tune.

Almost immediately he retorts,“Exactly why I gave you a day off. A treat for me.”

You ignore him. “I wanted to take you out for breakfast.”

“I don’t pay you that much,” he scoffs, still tapping away on his keyboard.

He’s wrong, Levi pays you more than you’ve ever been paid in your life, even more than when you were working at that super pretentious magazine that bragged about how well they treated their employees. Turns out their idea of spoiling their staff was a pizza party every third Sunday of the month. It was pitiful. Levi Ackerman believes in a living wage. Levi Ackerman is a good man.

“Sit down, will you? You’re stressing me out just standing there,” he says, his eyes softening at you for a moment, allowing you a glimpse of his gentler side.

With a sheepish grin, you pull up a chair, the noise seeming to amplify in the quiet office. You quickly apologize for the disruption, settling into the seat across from him.

“We can grab something to eat once I’m done with a few things. Is that okay with you, princess?”

“Anything for you, birthday boy,” you respond warmly, beaming at him.

He veils his amusement with a face of semi-disgust, “Vile.

“You know, when someone says they want to take you out for breakfast, there’s usually a time limit involved.” It’s now 12:03 pm, and your patience, though thinly stretched, hasn’t snapped—yet. Levi’s gaze softens, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. Rushing to lighten the mood, you add, “I’m kidding. I’m more of a brunch person, anyway.”

“And what about my preferences?” His voice, gentle and distant, pulls at something inside you.

“Of course, it’s your birthday,” you remind yourself aloud, tapping your fingers against the edge of his desk. “So, what do you like, Levi?”

The pause before he answers is loaded, his look implying you ought to know his preferences by heart. “I like silence when I work,” he finally says.

Right. You nod and mime locking your lips, leaning dramatically back in your chair, only to find yourself fighting off sleep shortly after.

“Time to wake up, princess. I have a task of royal importance for you,” Levi’s low, velvety command has you instantly alert. “You’re going to answer all my texts. They’re birthday wishes; just read them out and reply.”

Grinning at the trust he’s placing in you, you take his phone and start sifting through the messages. “Wow, didn’t peg you for Mr. Popular,” you tease. Levi rolls his eyes and then urges you to continue, unfazed.

Your eyes widen as you encounter messages from unexpected senders. “Uhm, I see some local celebrities in here. Wanna explain, Levi?"

“Just friends. And mind your business,” he grumbles.

Reading a message from Hange aloud, you watch his reaction closely. “Happy birthday, shortstack. I promise I’m not planning anything extravagant for you but just so we’re on the same page, define extravagant winky face,” you echo their playful tone.

“You’re smiling,” you point out, unable to resist.

“Hange’s full of it. Skip that one,” he dismisses, though his brief grin tells another story.

As the day stretches into evening, with work piling up and plans going awry, you can’t help feeling a mix of disappointment and defeat. Was this the universe’s way of suggesting you rethink your interest in Levi?

“I’m sorry,” Levi finally breaks the silence, noting the time—6:17 pm. Your attempt to brush off the day’s letdown with a smile doesn’t fool him.

“I’m sorry you had to spend your birthday in an office,” you shrug.

“It’s not about my birthday, I just hate making you wait,” he says, sincerity lacing his words.

You try to wave it off, “Water under the bridge.”

He surprises you then, “Can I take you out to dinner?”

“It’s your birthday,” you protest, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he quips, his signature dose of sarcasm in his voice.

“The whole point of me coming here was to take you out Levi!”

He sighs while standing up. Reaching for his coat, which had spent the day forgotten over his chair, he juts his chin towards the door. “Fine. So take me out then.”

You had pegged Levi for the type to frequent pretentious, overpriced restaurants — the kind that serves a single asparagus spear drizzled with truffle oil and charges a fortune. So, when he mentioned knowing a place for dinner just a couple of streets over, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Despite dressing decently for Levi’s birthday, you weren’t in anything particularly fancy. And Levi, always impeccably dressed as if he were campaigning for office alongside Erwin, would surely fit in anywhere he chose. You remind yourself to relax; after all, it’s just dinner.

“I hope you like Indian food,” Levi says as you reach the destination. He holds the door open for you, the gentleman that he is at heart. You didn’t just like Indian food; you adored it, savored it every chance you got.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it,” you shrug casually, trying to mask your excitement.

Once seated by a friendly teenage waitress, you take in the ambiance of the restaurant. It’s a cozy, bustling hole-in-the-wall, filled with lively conversation and vibrant energy. It’s loud enough to make you reconsider Levi’s alleged preference for silence. If he can enjoy his time in a place like this, he can surely handle your occasional chattiness at work.

“This is a cute little place,” you admit, taking in the bright decor and the charming, unlit lanterns on each table.

“Family-owned too,” Levi grunts, passing you a menu.

You beam at him, “I like that.”

After ambitiously ordering nearly everything on the menu, eager to sample the array of dishes, you start bombarding Levi with questions. “Have any siblings?”

“No, and you’ve already asked me that before. Running out of questions?” he teases.

“Pets?”

“No.”

“Are you in a relationship?”

He chokes on his water, fixing you with a stern look. “Y/n.”

“What? You know I’m nosy. You should be prepared by now,” you lean in, undeterred by his reaction, “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in one right now?”

A beat passes. “No."

His hesitation sparks your curiosity further. "But you hesitated. Why did you hesitate, Levi?”

“Holy shit—” He’s cut off as the waitress returns, skillfully balancing the array of dishes you’d ordered. You offer her an apologetic smile, silently vowing to tip generously for the trouble.

As the tantalizing aromas of the dishes fill the air, you resist the urge to dive in immediately, mindful of the impression you want to leave on Levi. However, his encouragement, “Eat. You’re not fooling anyone,” paired with your enthusiasm for the rogan josh placed directly in front of you, quickly shatters any pretense of sophistication.

“Shut the hell up,” you gasp between bites, your initial reservations forgotten in favor of savouring the delicious food.

“Oi, slow down. You’ll choke,” Levi warns, amusement lacing his voice.

“This is so good, Levi,” you manage to say, your expression one of pure delight.

He chuckles to himself, looking away as he does so. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him laugh like that. You study his face, wishing you could capture this moment in a recording so you won’t ever forget it. It’s fine, you think to yourself. You just have to memorize the sound of his laugh and live off of it forever.

Eventually Levi says, “Why don’t you try this one too,” he pushes the plate of lamb biryani over to you, patiently waiting for you to take some.

This has to be your love language—sharing food.

You’re so happy you never want to leave this table, or Levi. Mostly, Levi. And this biryani.

“Do you like your job?” His question startles you. It came out of nowhere.

You swallow your food. “I do.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watch as he struggles to find the right words to use to form his questions. His eyes lock with yours and this time they stay there. “I’m not too…overbearing?” he asks, gently. Almost shyly.

“You’re the perfect amount.”

“Are you happy?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Levi Ackerman, owner of Ackerman’s cleaning services?”

“That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do.”

“I’m happy working. I’m actually happiest working with you,” you admit, heat rising to your cheeks. Levi doesn’t say anything but you read something on his face. Relief? Maybe.

Eventually you realize it was Levi looking pleased with your answer.

“Cleaning is an honorable job,” you say after Kenny has left. He had made some stupid joke about Levi’s work despite how popular and very needed his services are.

“Y/n, quit it. Seriously. I don’t give a shit.”

“No, I know. I do, I just…” You take a deep breath in and turn to face him. He’s wearing his usual scowl on his face—the curve of his mouth slightly turned downward and his nose is scrunched up the tiniest bit. You could just about kiss that wrinkle between his eyebrows away if he’d let you. Smiling, you finish, “I just wanted you to know.”

“I enjoy spending time with you.”

You feel your stomach perform its now-famous acrobatics, seemingly attempting to tie itself in knots. Laughing nervously, you manage to say, “That’s good because we do spend a lot of time together. It would be awkward if you didn’t like me, right?”

Levi exhales deeply, a sign you’ve missed the mark. “You’re not getting it. With other people, I’m always on edge, wondering if I’m being friendly, engaging, or polite enough. Constantly checking if my permanent resting scowl has scared someone off again. It’s exhausting. People drain me, but the ones who don’t… I prefer to keep them close.”

“So, you’re saying you want me around indefinitely?” you push, hope coloring your tone.

“I’m saying thank you. You—” he stops himself when he catches you hanging onto every last word coming out of his mouth, waiting for the rest. He rolls his eyes a little bit which makes you smile even harder.

“Yeah?” You pester him, not willing to let the moment pass.

“Nothing.”

“Say it.”

“F—ck off.”

Undeterred, you flutter your eyelashes in a playful, last-ditch effort. “Please? I’d really love to hear what you were about to say.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he relents. “You make it okay to be myself.”

You laugh, “Levi, I don’t think you’re aware of how okay you are.”

He smiles the tiniest bit, “Charming.”

“No, you know what I mean. You’re obviously more than okay!”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, beginning to walk away but not without leaving his hand lingering in the air behind him—a silent invitation to grab onto it. If there’s anything you look out for, it’s the opportunity to touch Levi and in this case, to hold his perfect hand in yours. You follow him as he leads you back to that restaurant he first took you to.

“Have you guys kissed yet?” Hange leans towards you, excitedly waiting for your response. You catch Levi’s eyes on you from across the room but lately, they seem to always be on you. He’s pretending to be engaged in a way too animated conversation with Erwin and his politician buddies. Poor guy.

“Please, we’re not even a thing yet,” you snort, waving away the ridiculousness of the question.

“Okay, well, does Levi know that you’re not a thing? Because he already bought matching stuff for you at his condo.”

“What? really?”

Hange lists the items: cat mugs, slippers, and even matching gloves.

“He’d have a fit if he knew you spilled this top secret info,” you say, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Hange waves off the potential threat to their well-being with a scoff. “Oh, he’d definitely kill me. But it was too juicy not to share,” they wink, leaving you grinning from ear to ear.

You were finally at Levi’s impeccably clean and tidy place and you have to stop yourself from looking around for all the things Hange mentioned earlier. You’re sitting in the living room, on his comfortable green couch while Levi is making you a cup of tea in the kitchen. You wonder if he hid the matching mugs in the back of his cabinet. When will he think it’s an appropriate time to show them?

Or.

What if they weren’t even for you—what if there was someone else in his life he’s willing to be all matchy-matchy, cutesy-cutesy with?

Levi eventually comes out with two non-matching mugs; one for you and one for him. You feel a little disappointed when you see them but you swallow it down. “I should’ve been the one making the drinks. I’m not the one who’s injured.”

“Please, you watch me mop floors and wipe windows on one foot without ever offering to help. I even catch you smirking sometimes.”

You bite back a grin. “Hey!” You shout. He’s not entirely wrong but you know he would never let you intervene with his little tasks like mopping the floor or wiping down windows— they were therapeutic acts to him. What kind of monster would take that away from a man? Exactly.

“I hope you’re not completely traumatized by that gathering. I needed you there, I wouldn’t have been able to survive it without you.”

“I’m glad to be your knight in shining armor tonight,” you tease, taking the cup of tea from him and turning your body towards his. “Does Erwin usually host stuff like that?”

Levi sends you a look. “Always. And of course I had to choose a f—cking politician to be friends with.”

You chuckle, “Between Erwin, Hange, and me, you’re good to never have another social interaction for the rest of your life.”

He laughs out through his nose, similarly to how a dragon would breathe fiery flames out its nostrils. “I must be some extrovert magnet.”

“You are! Even with that permanent scowl on your face.” Your beautiful, beautiful face, you want to add. “Levi Ackerman, you are a prize. The prize.”

His eye-roll is theatrical, but you catch a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Are we a thing?” you ask gently, after some time.

“A thing?” He repeats after you, quietly.

“Like, you know,” you bite your lip. This could potentially be a dumpster fire of a conversation. Awkward and embarrassing depending on how he responds. “—like a couple.”

He sets down his cup on the coffee table, probably sensing the seriousness of the moment, and you do the same. “We can be.”

Oh okay, not the worst possible answer there is.

“Do you like me?”

He looks as if you just stabbed him, or more like you stabbed his mother in front of him and he had to watch in horror. “I’m going to be honest, y/n, i’m kind of f— cking devastated you’re asking me this.”

“I can’t ask?”

“No, it’s just… Shit.” His eyes dart frantically between you and the floor, a clear sign of the turmoil within. It’s evident he’s wrestling with a multitude of thoughts, and all you yearn for is a glimpse into even just one of them. After a tense few seconds, he straightens up and meets your gaze directly, a pained expression etched across his features. “I’m upset at the fact that you’re walking around not knowing that I like you— and the fact that you even have to ask? That there’s any doubt about my feelings for you?” He pauses, taking a deep breath before he adds, “I’m sorry. Yes, I like you. I’m upset at myself that I didn’t make myself very clear about how I feel about you before. I’m sorry.”

You can feel your eyes beginning to burn and you don’t even know why you’re about to cry. You just wanted Levi to like you, so, so much.

The realization that you’re panicking both internally and visibly prompts you to stand, aiming for a quick escape. "This is good. Okay. So, I’ll see you at work tomorrow morning?”

Levi chuckles at your abruptness, “Yes, you will, but could you maybe not try to flee the scene?”

“I have to go,” you insist, though your feet betray you and show no intention of moving.

“F—cking hell. You planning an escape route?” Levi raises his eyebrows.

“I’m not escaping…” you confess, surprising even yourself.

“Then sit,” he commands gently, softening it with a, “Please?”

“I’m so nervous. Stop making me nervous.” You blurt out but decide to sit down anyway. The way he’s staring at you like you’re bonkers out of your mind right now is enough to make you burst into laughter. You snort against the back of your hand. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Can’t make you nervous, can’t look at you. Is there anything I can do? Should I turn around and face the wall?” He mocks you, lovingly. His tone doesn’t say it but his eyes do. Everything he does to you is with love. No wonder you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

“You do realize you’re my boss, right?” you giggle, a sound so foreign to you. “I haven’t giggled like this since middle school. What’s happening to me?”

Levi beams at you, “Great, just what I needed, a subordinate with a crush. Now I have to navigate office politics, power imbalances, get HR involved…”

He pulls you onto his lap.

Your arms wrap tightly around Levi’s chest from behind him, as you rest your chin in the nook of his neck. He’s writing an email to someone, as he usually is during this time of the day.

Jokingly you ask, “When are you going to promote me, huh?”

“I did promote you,” you can hear the smile in his voice. He stops his typing to bring your hands to his mouth. He peppers them with a thousand pecks.

“Employee to girlfriend does not count”

“Shit,” he mock curses, then grins at his screen which you catch in its’ reflection.

“I have another question,” you announce, sensing an opportunity to delve into one of the many mysteries surrounding your lover.

“You always do,” he shoots back without missing a beat, fingers resuming their dance across the keyboard.

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, savouring the coolness of his skin. “But seriously, honey. You never did tell me how you managed to break your arm and leg.”

written 2021, reworked 2024

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #levi x you

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cyberrose2001 · 9 months

Text

TFP Optimus x fem!Reader

Requested by @musicalmedli, who wanted a continuation/re-write of this fic -> read here

sorry it took so long! (literally months oop, writers block is an ass)

I wrote the smut first and asked questions later, so apologies if the flow is off a bit.

also is this an excuse to write reader and OP 69ing? yes maybe shut up

Warnings: OP seducing reader, mostly dom!OP, fem human reader, 69 position.

Word count: 1976

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT READ

Some time had passed since your embarrassing encounter with Optimus, and things around the base had been quite unusual, to say the least. Not only has Optimus been practically attached to your hip, but he’s also started behaving very strangely around you.

He smells nice, like he had somehow nabbed a fresh bottle of cologne. His frame looks cleaner and more buffed out than usual. One would say that the red and blue mech had taken more interest in the upkeeping of personal hygiene, which isn’t hard to believe. But what is hard to believe is the increasing amount of subtle winks he gives you when no one else is around.

You aren’t sure what’s got into him or why he constantly asks how your day was with a renewed suave. Maybe it might be better to confront him, but that thought seems to have manifested in reality as your phone pings a message from Optimus.

“Please meet me in my quarters.”, it reads.

Well, aren’t you the psychic?

This was probably expected coming from the recent behaviour of the Prime, but the shock never leaves your face as you close the door behind you and step into his candle-lit quarters.

Optimus is mass-displaced, slumping in a chair facing you, pedes half crossed on his knees, giving you a slight glimpse of his inner thighs. A forearm rests on the armchair, digits tapping rhythmically as if to send you into a trance. His other servo drapes lightly on his thigh, brushing against the inner protomass. You gulp, raking your eyes over every inch of his frame until you meet half-lidded optics. Soft but unquestionably oozing arousal.

You try to say something, anything, but your mouth runs dry from the pure, unfiltered sex radiating from him. Optimus notices and his thin-lined dermas curl up devilishly.

“Good evening,” Optimus hums, “Apologies for messaging you abruptly, but I’d like to talk with you if that is all right.”

From his body language alone, you’re sure that he didn’t call you here just to ‘talk’. But you digress; it could be something important. So, you nod, stepping into the dimly lit room.

“Uh, yeah. It’s ok. I wasn’t busy anyway,” You walk up to him with the hesitance of a newborn doe, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I suppose there is,” Optimus leans forward once you’re standing directly in front of him, his elbow on his knee, and holy fuck is he hot, “Can I just say how utterly bewitching you are?”

A pause, “M-Me? Surely not. I think you’ve got the wrong gal.”

“Was it not you that I attempted to court to forestall your leave?” Optimus tilts his helm, digits drumming on his knee, “It worked, did it not?”

You need to be very careful with your following words because the look Optimus is giving you right now screams, ‘If you say yes, I’m gonna fuck the brains out of you and give you the best orgasm of your entire life’. Which doesn’t sound too bad right now; your loins are on fire, and it’s becoming increasingly harder to think straight.

“I know you harbour feelings for me,” Optimus pushes his servos into the armrest and stands up. He then crouches down to be at eye level with you because even when mass-displaced, he still towers above you by a solid foot, “Say the word, and I will satisfy you enough to last you a lifetime.”

Your legs are about to give out, but that’s ok because you’ve taken the liberty to wrap your arms around his neck. Faces so close now that you’re breathing in his ex-vents, “Is that a challenge?”

Optimus’ optics dim, giving you the most sultry grin that rivals the sun. He wraps his arms behind you and picks you up, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist, “Is that… your permission to proceed?”

You’re in too deep now. Slowly, you nod and cup his faceplate in your warm hands, inching closer and closer, “Yes.”

You close the distance to his dermas, and he fucking growls. His grip on your ass is firm as he returns the kiss with the intensity of a firestorm, glossa pressing against your tongue in an act of dominance.

After gaining your full permission and miraculously without breaking the heated kiss, Optimus throws you onto the blanket-covered berth behind you, thanking Primus that he had organised the soft landing before your arrival. And also a bit suspicious that he had fully expected to seduce you to get into your pants or lack thereof; because Optimus had clawed at them before you even had the chance to break the kiss and catch your winded breath.

You’re entirely at his mercy, with nowhere to run as he cages your upper body with his gorgeously robust forearms. His optics glow in a tantalising turquoise as he rakes them down your body, hungry and lustful.

While he soaks in the sight of you below him, it gives you time to appreciate how damn handsome he truly is. The soft orange glow of the candles highlights every crevasse, every perfect imperfection that he somehow missed buffing himself out for you. He’s gorgeous, and the faint smile he gives you tells you that he damn well knows it.

Optimus flirtatiously laughs before leaning his helm down to press a tender kiss to your neck, ex-vents like a gentle breeze on your skin, “You have no idea how long I have yearned for this.”

Feeling his glossa pressing against your neck, you softly moan, lulling your head to the side for more access. You can feel him suckle slightly, and your breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut. He’s marking you, and you have no choice but to submit yourself to him.

Well, maybe you have some choice. You remember Optimus trying to flirt with you via a very raunchy pickup line, not having any idea what it even meant. This might be your opportunity to give him a hands-on experience; you just have to tug the breaks slightly on this dominant Optimus train.

“-hggff- Optimus,” You gasp out and reach up to gently push his chest away; removing him from your neck was like Velcro, “Wanna try out that… position I told you about?”

Optimus hitches his breath. Ever since you whispered those lewd words into his audial receptors, the thought of you lying atop him as he indulges in your heat for the first time while you do the same for him makes his spark flutter, “I will not lie. It’s been on my mind for quite some time… I suppose we could attempt it.”

The whole reason it’s been on his mind in the first place was that you were the one who planted that thought in his processor, and now you just realised exactly why Optimus had been acting like a love-struck puppy around you. He fucking researched it, and it got him majorly flustered.

Optimus digs his servos beneath your back to cradle you and flips himself over, with you now draped across him. You sit up and make work of stripping the remainder of the clothes Optimus hadn’t shredded, and when you rip your bra off, his servos instantly press against your chest.

“Mmmm, these are delightful,” Optimus purrs, digits kneading into your plump flesh, “So very soft…”

You bite back a moan before pulling his servo away from you, “I know, but let’s not get distracted, hm? You can play with them after.” You then maneuver yourself so you face first with his interfacing array, which you notice is already bowed out; your breasts squishing against his abdominal plating.

“I see you’re already excited; wanna show me?” You purr as you palm him, drawing delightful shivers from him. You kiss his groin, and he nearly bucks up into you in excitement.

Optimus doesn’t hesitate to expose him to you, groaning as his thick spike unsheathes itself from its housing. And you’re fucking drooling. It’s gorgeous, has a slight lean and is absolutely rock hard, staring right at you.

You’re not the only one drooling. Optimus’ optics are laser-focused on your dripping pussy; it entices him to dive right in. He moves his servos to grip your ass cheeks, massaging them gently.

“Primus, what a sight to behold.” He breathes out, and the warm air tickles your heat. He leans in, flattening his glossa to lick a thick line from your clit to your hole.

“F-Fuck…” You gasp out, leaning your hips into his intake more. The way Optimus is lapping at your folds is very distracting, and you almost forget that you’re supposed to be returning the favour.

You grab his spike, running your fingers up and down in tandem with his glossa. It’s softer than you thought, similar to the malleable protomass beneath his metal exterior, and you can’t wait to get your mouth around it. You stick your tongue out and lick from the base to the very tip, and you can feel Optimus groaning into your heat as you do.

Feeling confident, you wrap your lips around his tip and apply gentle suction. You swirl your tongue, lapping up the pre-cum already spilling down, and you moan at the taste. If you’re not careful, you might get addicted to it.

You can’t say the same for Optimus, who drinks you with a fervour akin to someone lost in the desert and has discovered water for the first time in weeks. He wraps his arms around your waist, forcing you almost entirely to sit on his face. His glossa delves into your hole, and you cry out around his spike.

You’re almost thrown off him when you do, the vibrations from your throat sending an electrical shock through his hips as he bucks into your mouth. He’s deepthroating you now, and you must be a snake of some kind because this shouldn’t be possible unless you’ve unhinged your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” He takes a breath, pressing kisses to your sensitive bud, “I can’t -aggh- help myself. Your intake is so tight.”

“Keep going, Optimus,” You pop your mouth off him, using one hand to stabilise yourself on him and the other to pump him feverishly, “I’m so close, f-fuck.”

As soon as those fluttery words leave your mouth, you’re straight back to sucking his spike with all the strength you have left. Optimus has also continued his assault on your clit. He swirls his glossa and wraps his dermas around it, and you’re fucking done. You cum on his glossa so hard it’s like an explosion on your nervous system, rocking your hips against him involuntarily.

Optimus pushes your hips further onto his intake and tightly grips your waist as his own overload overtakes his senses, the rush of cum flowing onto his glossa combined with your relentless sucking being just enough to send him over the edge.

He overloads right into your throat, and you’re determined to swallow every last drop. You push his spike past your gag reflex, tears filling your eyes as the rush of stickiness overflows into your cheeks and past your lips, dripping down his spike as it spasms against your tongue.

Once you feel he’s completely finished, you pull your mouth off and gulp. There’s so much you couldn’t, but you mentally pat yourself on the back for swallowing what you could.

Optimus releases his hold on your waist, allowing you to manoeuvre yourself so you’re facing him again. And holy fuck, seeing his face drenched in your fluids is almost enough to make you cum again.

He gives you a dopey smile and wraps his arms around your waist, “That undoubtedly exceeded my expectations. Should I try to seduce you again someday?”

“I don’t think you need to,” You breathlessly chuckle, “You’ve already got me hooked.”

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp optimus #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus x fem reader #tfp optimus x human reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

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danikamariewrites · 8 months

Text

Midday Cravings (pt. 3)

Nessian x reader

A/n: thank you to everyone who voted in the poll! It was super close between something fluffy and smut. But bc you all have been so supportive of these fics which I’m so grateful for I’m going to do a smutty part 4 bc I love you all❤️ I’m sorry this is so short but it was just a cute lil idea I had

Warnings: mentions of child birth

Ailith. That’s what you had named your perfect little girl. The birth was tough due to her wings, but it was worth every second of pain to bring her into the world. It had been two months since you gave birth. She has her father’s beautiful tan skin, your bright eyes, and Nesta’s curiosity.

Nesta and Cassian were fantastic parents as well. They we’re so hands on with her, you were so grateful. You knew Nesta was scared to be a mom and had other doubts, like the baby not liking her. But that all disappeared when Nesta was the first person Ailith smiled at.

And Cassian was already wrapped around her little finger. Those two were attached at the hip, you knew she’d be a daddy’s girl the second he started talking to her when she was still in your belly. The first time Cassian held her it was for skin-to-skin contact a few hours after she had been born. Ailith snuggled into him, letting out the cutest little sigh and Cass started bawling his eyes out.

She just woke up from her nap so you brought her downstairs to eat and play with you and Nesta. Ailith was the happiest baby you’d ever seen. So smiley and giggly. Whenever you held her your day immediately got better.

You hadn’t slept much in the last few weeks though, which was driving you crazy. Ailith had started getting fussy at night when it came to bed time. It made you very emotional, you felt like you were doing something wrong. Sometimes she wouldn’t go down unless Cassian was rocking her to sleep. You happily let Cassian put her to sleep, but you were up with her only a few hours later.

Nesta was already sitting on the floor surrounded by her favorite toys. Her face lit up as you two got closer and she held her hands out for the baby. Letting Nesta take her you sat on the floor slumping against the base of the big arm chair.

“Y/n, don’t take this the wrong way because I’m saying this with love, but you look so tired. Why don’t you go lay down for a while.” She gave you a sympathetic look. Ailith pulled on the loose strands of Nesta’s braid and her attention immediately went to the baby girl.

You loved watching Nesta play with her. You never wanted to miss a moment of time together. But you knew you had to sleep. “Ok. But I’m staying on the couch. And you have to wake me up if she does anything cute.” Nesta rolled her eyes, “ok but you might as well stay up. Because everything she does is so cute. Isn’t it? Aren’t you just the cutest?” She cooed at Ailith.

The second your head hit the pillow you knocked out. You only slept a few hours but it was better than nothing. When you woke up you were laying on Cassian’s chest while Ailith dozed in Nesta’s arms. Sitting up you stifle a yawn, “Sorry Nes. I didn’t mean to sleep that long. I can take her if you want.”

Nesta gives you a look that says ‘yeah, right’ as Cassian pulls you back to rest on him. “Oh hush you,” he whispered. “You deserve rest and care too you know.” Closing your eyes, you feel yourself relaxing. “You’re right.” You murmur.

Cassian rubs your back and whispers sweet nothings in your ear about how much they love you and how strong you are. You feel so happy, having your little family sitting together just relaxing and being happy.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

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chaotic-super · 4 months

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Back To Earth - Chapter 1

This is the sequel to 'Back To Krypton'. If you haven't read that yet, the full fic is available on AO3 here!

“Not much longer,” Lena announces, her gaze set firmly on Earth as it grows larger. “Probably another hour or so before we meet up with the fleet.”

Kara hums, sliding off the bed to join Lena. She wraps her arm around her waist and leans into her, their heads resting softly against each other. “I’m glad Brainy decided to take this last stretch slow so we can see it like this. It’s beautiful.”

Lena snorts. “We’re hardly going slow; we’re just going slow enough to not need a seatbelt.”

Bumping her hip into Lena’s, Kara giggles. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Lena sighs. “I do.”

“It’s not usually his style to be sentimental when practicality works so much better though. I wonder why he planned this.”

Lena grimaces. She's the keeper of Brainy’s secrets and she’s already folding before Kara has even pressed for more information. “Yeah, that is...odd.” Her voice wavers the tiniest amount, but it’s enough to give her away.

Kara squints at her. “You know something. Tell me.”

Holding her hands up, Lena makes a futile attempt at getting Kara to drop it. “It’s Brainy’s business.”

“And yours too, since you’re keeping secrets for him. Spill.”

Lena shakes her head, trying to figure out the best way to lay this out without upsetting Kara. “There are a few reasons he decided to slow us down. The main one is that he’s been away from Nia for a long time and he wants to woo her a little. He also wants to check over our device one last time. We’ve both triple-checked it to make sure it’ll do the job we need it for, but since it’s made from the schematics of multiple devices, he’s nervous.”

Kara’s eyes narrow when she stops talking. “And the third reason?”

“He’s worried about you. We all are. You’ve been through a hell of a lot, so we thought that you might appreciate a slow return to Earth. Some time to wrap your head around things before we’re officially back on home turf.”

“So it wasn’t Brainy’s idea. It was yours.” Kara doesn’t sound mad. If anything, she just sounds defeated. “I’m ok, Lena.”

Lena faces her fully, the light reflecting from Earth shining on them both, the planet they’ve sworn to protect watching over them in this vulnerable moment. “I know, but you don’t have to be.”

“I can’t. Not until we’ve stopped Lex.”

“If our plan goes smoothly, the device will be activated as soon as we’re through Earth’s atmosphere. Lex won’t see it coming and everything will be fine. You can breathe, Kara. We both can. We can live.”

Kara sinks into Lena’s arms, her head turned so she can look out over Earth. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It is, and it isn’t,” Lena says, her voice soft, barely more than a whisper. “There’s so much hatred down there, but from up here, it’s nothing but beauty. This is how I think you look at people. You see the good even when they’re capable of such horrors. I love that about you, and I wish I could do the same. You see the best part of people rather than judging and mistrusting them for something they may never do.”

“Your way is smarter.”

“Your way is kinder.” Lena rebuts. “I like to think we balance each other out pretty well.”

“I know we do.”

There’s a knock at the door a second before it slides open, but neither woman turns to look to see who it is.

“God, seeing you two stare at each other like that is worse than walking in on you doing…things.” Alex’s voice is coated in a thick layer of disgust. “Anyway, we’re going to strap in and take the last part faster so Lex doesn’t notice another ship joining the fleet. We’re going to stop by J’onn’s ship first to let him know the good news before we make the last stretch back home.”

Lena traces her fingertips down the length of Kara’s arm before finally looking at Alex. “Sounds good. We’ll be there in just a minute.”

Alex nods, her eyes now fixed on her sister, who is avoiding eye contact with her. “Are you ok, Kara?”

“Yeah, I will be.” She musters up a smile, looking between Alex and Lena. “I have a lot of emotions going on, but I’ll be just fine.”

“Good.” Alex’s face softens. “You will be. We’ll all be with you while you get there.”

“I know.”

There’s a brief moment of softness between the sisters before Alex ducks out of the room, leaving Kara and Lena in their little bubble of peace.

Lena rests her forehead against Kara’s for a second before brushing her nose against hers. “We’ve got to figure out how to explain to everyone on Earth that we went back in time and fell in love.”

“I’d argue that we were already in love.” Kara grins before pressing her lips firmly against Lena’s.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I think everyone will be happy for us.”

“Me too.”

They cling to their moment of serenity for a couple more minutes before they regretfully pull away from each other to go and join the others. They’re all waiting for them, strapped into their seats and ready to go when they walk in. They roll their eyes at their team when they cheer at them sarcastically.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Brainy announces. “Hold on, everyone.”

They prepare themselves and close their eyes for the quick blast of speed that sends them shooting through the universe, only slowing as they approach the back of the fleet, manoeuvring through the ships to slide in right beside J’onn’s ship.

“J’onn. Can you hear me?” Brainy speaks aloud, trying to contact J’onn’s ship.

“Loud and clear. How are you all?”

“Tired,” Kara calls out, “and ready to get home.”

“I bet.” J’onn chuckles. “Did you get what you need?”

“We sure did. We’re going to land and activate the device as we pass through the atmosphere. We’ll signal to you when it’s safe for you to bring the fleet down.”

There’s the faint sound of applause from the background of J’onn’s ship. “Good work, team. I’ll see you down there soon enough.”

“We look forward to it,” Brainy says, and Nia leans forward just a touch so she can get a better look at the grin spread across his face. She’s missed him and his dorkiness, and she just can’t get enough of it now that they’re back together again.

Brainy preps the ship for atmospheric entry and then gives everyone a brief warning before he starts their descent, his fingers poised on the switch to their new device so he can flip it on as soon as they’re close enough to the ground to do so.

The moment the device turns on is a little anticlimactic. All it does is light up a little. Nothing else is meant to happen; that’s the point. No exploding ships, just a pretty little blinking light and peace.

“All systems confirm that the device is working and it has deactivated Lex’s weapon,” Lena says, her eyes pinned on the control panel in front of her. “Mission accomplished.”

“Mission accomplished,” Kara whispers to herself with a tiny smile, one that is both genuine and not. She’s thrilled that all of their hard work has paid off. She just wishes that she didn’t lose so much in doing so.

The ship levels off as they come to land in front of the Tower and Kara takes that as enough permission to take off her seatbelt to look at her family. She might have lost one family on Krypton, but she’s gained a whole new one. One that understands her so much more thanks to this mission. That’s something she’ll hold dear for the rest of her life.

“So, I’m thinking pizza.” She announces to the room. “It’s been far too long since we’ve had pizza.”

“And Chinese.” Alex pipes up. “We need potstickers too, and you’re going to share them.” She points an accusing finger at her sister.

“We better order extra then. I want at least a dozen to myself.”

“I’ll get you some, darling.” Lena appears at her side. “I’ll also be getting myself some because listening to you ramble on about them for months has had me craving them like crazy.”

Kara shrugs. “I’m not sorry.”

“That’s not surprising.”

Squinting at Lena playfully, Kara scoffs. “What’s that meant to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lena plays into it.

“I think I found something to worry about.” Brainy joins in the conversation, his tone clipped.

They all huddle around the control panel where Brainy is working, their eyes peering at his fast-moving fingers before darting to the device as he keeps pressing switches on the side of it.

Lena’s eyebrows furrow as she figures out what’s happening. “Oh, I see.”

“I don’t. Mind filling us in?” Nia questions, her hands resting loosely on Brainy’s shoulders.

Kara figures it out next, quickly followed by Alex.

“Lex is trying to set off the machine now.” Kara starts.

“And every time he does that, the machine is stopping him, but it has to be reset each time it works or else Lex can still make the fleet self-destruct.” Alex finishes. “We need to tell J’onn to keep the fleet where it is until we figure out how to make the device reset itself. If we can’t do that, someone will have to keep resetting it manually each time it goes off until we can stop Lex for good and destroy his device.”

Everyone’s shoulders drop. They might have won the battle, but the war isn’t over. Not while Lex can still try to set off his device.

“Do you think he’ll figure out that we’re stopping him manually, or will he give up?” Kelly asks, her hands twisting in front of her.

Lena struggles to swallow past the growing lump in her throat. “I’d guess that he’ll rage for a while first, and then he’ll look into it to see what’s happening. It’s only a matter of time before he realizes that we have to stop each attempt and tries to use that to his advantage. That or he’ll try to find a way around it.”

“He won’t be able to do that. There’s less than nought point three percent chance that he will find a way.”

Kara’s completely lost her smile. “So we just keep manually stopping him for now?”

Brainy nods solemnly. “Yes. For now, that’s all we can do.”

Kara sighs, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose tightly. “Rao, it never ends.”

Lena’s hand rests on her forearm, gently urging Kara to take her hand away from her face. “Hey, it will. We just have a couple of extra steps. We’re all good though. We can take shifts with the device, which we should probably name so we don’t have to keep calling it ‘the device’, and once we’ve figured out how to spruce it up and make it so it resets itself, we’ll all be peachy.”

Kara stares deeply into emerald eyes. “Since when do you use the word ‘peachy’?”

“Since I started dating a dork.” Lena deadpans. “Now, how about we get off this ship and into the Tower?”

Kara nods but then falters. “Hold on, we have to call J’onn.”

“He’s not going to be thrilled by the news,” Alex adds.

“No, he’s not.” Kelly bumps Esme up onto her hip more firmly, having just lifted her up. “But he needs to know.”

Lena leans over to call J’onn back and they all wait impatiently for him to respond.

“Have you arrived down there safely?”

Alex clears her throat, opting to be the one to tell him the bad news. “Yes, we have, but there is something you need to know.”

“Nothing good ever followed those words.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” Alex shuffles her feet as she starts explaining. “The device works and stops Lex from causing all the alien ships to self-destruct. However, we have to manually reset it each time he makes an attempt, so it might be best to keep the fleet off Earth until we have managed to make it repeat its defensive actions without there being room for human error.”

They can practically hear J’onn’s teeth grinding as he processes. “I think a lot less people will be willing to stay up here. There are still a lot of aliens that stayed on Earth anyway, but telling the ones that did leave to stay up here for longer than they already have just won’t work. I can ask, but I will not take away their right to make an informed choice. We will monitor the device in pairs to ensure there will be no errors. We can take shifts.”

“J’onn, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Kara asks.

“No, but we can’t keep these people in limbo indefinitely, and we don’t have the resources to stop them from going anywhere.”

“Ok. Do you want us to tell them?”

“No, you’ve done plenty. This is my burden to carry. I’ll meet you down there soon.”

The call ends with a click, and the whole group just deflates. “I guess we better get inside, then.” Kelly ushers them to the door.

“Nia and I will remain for a little longer to stabilize the device for transit into the Tower.” Briany declares, waving them off, his eyes fixed diligently on the control panel to monitor any need to reset the device once again.

Lena takes Kara’s hand as they walk ahead of Alex, Kelly and Esme. “I’m going to order a boatload of food and have a nice hot shower, then I’m going to put on the softest clothes I own and sleep forever.”

“Rao, that sounds so good.” Kara has to resist moaning at the thought. “I bet we can convince someone else to take the first shift with the device.”

Lena smirks at her devilishly. “I bet we can.”

They pass the H’Rakas, both of them sleeping soundly in the cargo bay. “I can’t wait to see these guys out in the open again. I think they’ve kind of restless being stuck in here.”

“Yeah. We’ll get them out of here as soon as possible.” Lena agrees.

The door opens, and Kara basks in the immediate power surge she gets from being beneath Sol’s rays once again. It’ll take a while for her powers to come back fully, most likely a couple of days, but she already feels stronger.

“Welcome home.” She grips Lena’s hand tighter, taking her first step out of the ship and officially onto Earth.

She crumples.

Lena’s hand is dropped as she falls to her knees, her hands grasping at her head as she cries out in pain.

“Kara?” Lena falls to her side, her hands desperately cupping her face to try and get her attention. “What’s happening? What hurts?”

Kara can’t answer. All she can focus on is the acute pain in her head.

“Kara?” Lena keeps trying to get her to look at her, but with her eyes shut so firmly and her pain drowning out the sound of everything happening around her, Kara is oblivious.

Kelly rushes past them with Esme, the little girl peering over her mom’s shoulder with wide, terrified eyes. She has no idea what’s happening but it’s clear that it’s not good.

Alex and Lena sit on either side of Kara, flipping her onto her back so she’s leaning against Alex, nestled in her sister’s embrace, while they try to figure out what’s happening.

“You’re going to be ok,” Alex whispers to her, her face the epitome of terror because she knows that whatever has caused this, she can’t stop.

Kara’s in a world of her own, her brain on overload as she’s hit by memory after memory that she never lived. Her past is being rewritten, merging with her true memories to create a messy collage of old truths and new truths she can barely differentiate.

It’s all moving so fast that she can’t keep up. All she can do is try not to focus on the stabbing pain in her head and the overload of information hitting her as she’s dragged along for the ride. She can’t stop it; she must simply endure.

It slows eventually, but not before Nia and Brainy come stumbling out of the ship to find them on the floor.

“Oh no, that’s not good,” Brainy says, understanding exactly what is happening. “Her past is changing. I should have accounted for this.”

“What do you mean?” Lena presses for answers. “Why now? We left Krypton days ago.”

“Her return to Earth solidified the timeline. As soon as she stepped foot out of the protection of the time ship, she was exposed to the changes. She’ll be in pain for a while, but it’ll pass.”

Brainy’s relaxed demeanour calms both Alex and Lena, but Alex isn’t completely satisfied. “How long will she be like this?”

He shrugs, careful not to lose track of the device in Nia’s arms as they await a possible need to reset it. “That depends on how much has changed for her. Given her pain threshold and her current reaction, I’d say that some fundamental parts of her life have changed, and that’s something we shall have to thoroughly review when she’s recovered.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Lena asks, her hands clutching at Kara’s, keeping her from digging her nails into her scalp as she tries to overcome the immense pain she’s in.

“We wait it out.” Brainy is no happier saying it than Alex and Lena are hearing it.

Kara’s eyes fly open. The pain is still strong, but it dipped suddenly enough for her to regain some of her senses.

She focuses on the balcony, but she doesn’t see the present. She’s seeing ghosts of memories walking and standing and drinking and hugging, each one overlapping and merging, each false but true. They weren’t, but now they are.

“Kara? Can you hear me?” Lena tries.

The memories fade away until one remains. A kiss on Earth that never happened, one right before they climb aboard the Legion ship with bags that got carried across Krypton. Then, that fades too, taking the pain with it.

“Holy fuck.”

“Kara?” Lena’s eyes glisten with unshed tears.

“I’m ok.” She stumbles over the words but leans up without assistance, proving her statement to be at least somewhat true.

Both Alex and Lena are quick to wrap their arms around her waist to support her weight as she stands, and then they start directing her inside slowly, conscious of keeping their assistance light but stabilizing.

“Let’s get you to a chair,” Alex says, mostly to herself. “You need to sit down.”

“I really am alright. I promise.”

Lena scoffs. “With all due respect, you were just wiped out by some pretty severe pain brought on by your timeline being rewritten, so pardon us if we don’t take your word for it.”

Kara gives in. She can’t argue with that. “That’s fair.”

The pair lower Kara into the nearest chair, their worry and uneasiness evident to everyone who bothers to look. Kara, for the most part, seems to be ok. She’s managed to steady herself again and is now just trying to piece together the memories she lived compared to the memories she gained just a few seconds ago.

“Are you sure you’re feeling ok?” Lena asks, tenderly tucking a wayward lock of blonde hair back behind her ear.

Kara nods slowly. “Yeah, I’m just trying to make sense of things.”

“Brainy?” Alex waves at him to get his attention, leaving Nia to watch the device, the fate of every alien who owns a ship lying in her hands.

“Alex.” He replies.

“Why aren’t we having the same reaction as Kara? Surely a change in her timeline means that there will also be a change in ours.”

Brainy hums and tucks his arms behind his back, his spine straightening. “While that is true, Kara has had a massive shift in her timeline and the change in events leading up to and following the destruction of Krypton will have a much stronger effect on her than any change in events for you. You are correct though. You will experience a few changes; how many is unknown at this time, so you’re likely to experience the merging of memories in one of two ways.”

“Which are?” Alex tries not to sound nervous.

“Either you will gain them when your mind rests, or you will gain them slowly as the days pass, perhaps partnered with a headache or a migraine, depending on the severity of the changes. Kara’s happened so quickly because of her direct impact on the changes and the confirmation of those changes happening when she stepped off the ship.”

“So we’ll either wake up with them or have a headache and get them?” Alex confirms.

“Precisely.”

“Well, that’s just swell.” Lena drones out. “Hey, Kara?”

“Hmm,” Kara hums, leaning her head into Lena’s side as the brunette perches on the arm of the chair she’s sitting in.

Lena wraps her arm around Kara, her fingernails brushing up and down her arm soothingly. “Are there any changes we need to be aware of?"

Kara shrugs helplessly. “I’m still sort of trying to piece together what’s what. I feel like I’ve just watched fifty movies at once, and I’m trying to figure out whether Cindy Lou Who is meant to be in ‘The Grinch’ or ‘Jaws’.”

“That’s...ok.” Lena doesn’t fully understand what that means, but she figures that it’s best to leave it well enough alone for now.

“We kissed though.”

“I’m well aware, darling.”

Kara shakes her head, looking up at the underside of Lena’s jaw. “No, we kissed before Krypton. I saw it.”

Lena’s eyes widen. “We were in a relationship on Earth?”

“Not really. We kissed right before getting on the ship to go on the mission. Rather, you kissed me.”

“Makes sense; you wouldn’t have the balls.” Lena smiles.

Kara’s mouth drops open. “Rude! I was just informing you of the details of our first kiss and you decide to bully me in return.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying.”

“Oh?”

“Of course not.” Lena leans down to press a kiss to the top of Kara’s head. “I was just telling the truth.”

All Kara can do is roll her eyes at her. “Sure, sure.”

Lena chuckles into Kara’s hair. “If we kissed before we left for Krypton, does that mean that our actions on Krypton changed and, therefore, the future we changed has been changed again?”

“No.” Brainy answers. What happened on Krypton has become a fixed point in time. It’s hard to explain but because you changed a fixed point in time to begin with, it’s like you mixed the pieces of two jigsaw puzzles together. Even if all the pieces fit and lock together smoothly, the picture may never look perfect.”

“So our past is now a little jumbled but our future should be fine, just a little different than we anticipated?” Kara asks.

“Exactly.” Brainy points at the pair. “This is why I told you to limit interactions with people there. You can cause a real mess, just like this one.”

Kara grimaces as she thinks about all of the people she talked to and the lives she may have changed because of her actions. “Yeah, we did talk to quite a lot of people.”

“You beat one up.” Lena snorts.

Brainy sinks his head into his hands. “That doesn’t shock me. Kara, we don’t know the full extent of the damage yet, but it’s not looking good.”

“I know.” Kara leans back and closes her eyes, her brain flicking through all of the people’s lives she knows she definitely affected in some way, whether it be in big or small ways, it all matters. She keeps getting stuck on one person though. Someone who she now has new memories of.

Astra.

They were never on the rooftop.

Astra didn’t die on the rooftop.

Astra didn’t die.

“Oh...” Kara breathes. “Oh no.”

“What?” Alex turns to her, dread building up inside of her.

“Um, I might know what one of the changes happens to be.”

That catches everyone’s attention. Everyone except Nia focuses on her, their eyes scanning her face for any hint of a clue as to how bad this is going to be.

Alex squeezes Kara’s hand. “What is it?”

“It’s Astra.”

Alex freezes, the memory of Astra dying in Kara’s arms haunting her as it so often does, not that she often tells anyone that. There’s something different about this recollection though. It’s foggier than usual and a little frayed at the edges.

“She’s alive.” Kara finishes.

Alex’s mouth opens and closes, words sitting on the tip of her tongue but none strong enough to pass her lips. Eventually, she manages to stutter one out. “How?”

Pressing her lips together and rubbing her hands over her thighs, Kara thinks, trying to uncover more pieces to the puzzle. “I’m not totally sure. Something about her not believing in the cause anymore. She disagreed with Non and…” She pauses, hit with a surprising amount of clarity. “She killed Non to protect us. She saved Earth and lived here peacefully with us ever since.”

Kara can’t help it. She knows a massive change in the timeline like this shouldn’t be celebrated. It shouldn’t even be acknowledged really, just something to be dealt with, but this is a good thing. It’s a brilliant thing. Her aunt is alive.

“My aunt is alive.” Kara grins. “She’s alive.”

“Please tell me you’re just randomly celebrating the fact I’ve somehow managed to keep all of us alive as long as I have and not that your aunt Lara is somehow miraculously alive too. She was always a pompous bitch.”

Kara’s head whips around to see Astra leaning up against the doorframe, a startled Kelly at her side and Esme perched on her hip.

“Aunt Astra, you’re really here.” Kara’s voice is filled with wonder. She pushes herself up and walks over to her, stopping just shy of her, too afraid to actually touch her, too scared that this is nothing more than her confused, traumatized mind playing tricks on her.

Astra’s eyebrows pinch together before she hands Esme off to Kelly and closes the gap between them to press the back of her hand to Kara’s forehead. “Kara, are you ill?”

Kara shakes her head. “No. I’m just…” She gives up on trying to formulate words. Instead, she leans into her aunt’s touch before dragging her into a tight hug, her hands clutching at the back of Astra’s shirt so tightly it would rip if her powers had returned.

Everyone appears to be frozen in place as they stare at the scene and Astra catches on to the fact that she’s missing some pretty crucial information very quickly. “So, what have I missed?”

“What do you know?” Kelly probes.

Astra pulls out of the hug but lets her hands trail down Kara’s arms until she finds her hands, holding them securely in hers with no plans on dropping them until she has to. “That you’ve just come back from a mission to Krypton, and I now have the world’s biggest migraine, but this hug is definitely doing wonders to help it. I was hoping Alex would check me over though. I don’t usually get migraines due to my biology, as I’m sure you understand.”

Brainy sighs, getting ready to recount the same information he already gave everyone when he should be helping Nia monitor the device. Lena saves him though. “I got it, Brainy.”

“Thank you, Lena.”

“You got it.”

Astra looks at Lena expectantly. “So?”

“So, you have a migraine because your timeline is changing in a pretty major way. You’ll be able to remember everything soon.”

“Do you know what the changes are?”

Lena hesitates but nods. “I do.”

“You don’t want to tell me.” Astra gathers from the way Lena’s arms are folded tightly over her chest, and one foot is facing out as though she’s ready to run at a moment’s notice. “Is it really that bad?”

Kara blurts out the truth before Lena can find a tactful way of delivering the news. “You were dead.”

“What?”

“You were dead.”

For early access to the lastest chapters of all my fics and Patreon-only content, take a peek over here!

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x lena #fanfic #cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supercorp fanfic #Back To Earth #Back To series #Sequel #chaoticsuper

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trash-king18 · 10 months

Text

m pt. 10

this fic is far from over because i have a problem and am literally obsessed with miggy

cw: slightly suggestive

————

his eyes are closed but you can tell if you move too much you’ll wake him up.

his arm is draped over you so you do your best to carefully slip out from under him without him sensing and you’re 3 steps from the door before you hear him

“adonde vas?”

where are you going

damn it

“to get ready, we have work”

“what about breakfast”

“i don’t know grab a bagel or something from the food court, we’re already gonna be late”

he sounds half asleep still, he still hasn’t even opened his eyes

“a bagel? i don’t want a bagel”

“then get something else”

“no i don’t want that” he mumbles sleepily

you just shake your head in disbelief and start to go towards the door again

“regresar”

come back

“no get up we have to get ready”

you reach for the door but you feel something land on your back

“o’hará don’t you dare”

too late. he pulls you back into bed with a web and catches you before promptly.. rolling on top of you.

“see? mejor”

better

“get. off of me”

he still hasn’t even bothered to open his eyes he just cages you in with his body weight. he kept surprising you lately but you didn’t expect the needy cuddly thing. you thought he might be on drugs. you were honestly surprised he was still there when you woke up. also surprised you hadn’t woke up and snuck out yourself

“miguel lo juro por Dios- you’re making me late”

i swear to god

“you can be late, boss says it’s ok”

“Miguel!”

you sounded mad now, he opened his eyes and looked at you trapped underneath him

“get off! now.”

he groans and rolls off onto his back and you get up before finishing getting ready. he doesn’t move just remains laying on your bed listening to you storm around your apartment. you come back in fully dressed ready to go.

“are you gonna get up?”

“i have to go home first i’ll be at work soon”

“well get moving estupido you’re not staying here”

“why are you in such a rush”

“uh because we’re late”

“you’re leaving without breakfast?”

“ay coño what is with you and food”

“..i’m hungry.”

“what so we’d just get breakfast, together .. show up to work, together? late! act like this is completely normal”

he sits up “well i didn’t think-“

“no you didn’t”

“mi cariño i can see that you’re frustrated-“

“no no no. no cariño right now. none of that. right now we are going to work ~separately~. and we are going to do our work, like normal, and we are going to fight in front of everybody, like normal, and just act normal”

“i thought you said you didn’t want to act like this was normal”

“you-“

“ay dios ok ok”

he hops up and follows you into the living room.

“well act normal, i’ll make sure i yell at you extra”

“not an excuse for you to yell at me for no reason”

“mamacita what do you want from me here”

you turn around and give him a warning look.

“fine. i will just.. be your boss today”

you sigh “thank you”

“but i don’t have to be your boss right now” he says before kissing you on the cheek before you have a chance to stop him and then dashing out to the terrace to avoid being scolded again.

“hasta luego”

“will you-“

but he’s already gone swinging away.

you get to the HQ 45 minutes late, which isn’t awful but unusual for you.

Gwen was sitting in there waiting for you while talking to Pavitr Hobie and Peter B.. and of course Mayday

“Hey Gwen sorry got a late start this morning”

you were helping her with a chem project for school and you frequently tutored many of the younger spider people in science since their grades tended to slip after you know.. becoming super heroes.

“All good, you okay?”

“Fine kiddo, gracias… ~Peter~ you know what i’ve said about bringing may into the lab”

“Yeah sorry Y/N i just.. you know can’t leave her out of my sight for a minute”

May reaches out for you and you grab her before she gets bored and decides to climb on the walls and knock stuff over.

“it’s ok, just make sure you.. keep her close”

“Alright let’s see what you’ve got so far”

the boys escort themselves out taking May with them while you and Gwen work on her project for almost an hour.

“Hey y/n can i ask you something?”

“is this about miles..”

“what no… yes”

“look i know what he asked of you is hard, but it’s for his own good. I haven’t met morales, but he has a choice to make and knowing will only make it harder”

“i know.. i just.. i miss him”

you look at her she seems so defeated, after everything she’s lost you can’t help but try and find a way to help her.

“ya know.. i’m sure they wouldn’t notice if you popped in just to check on him. as long as you promise to hold the universe together while you do”

“no ~he’d~ find out”

“i’m not gonna tell him niña, so as long as you play it smart while you’re there, and don’t talk to him”

“i don’t know.. maybe”

“of course officially i’m telling you to follow orders, you know for the good of the multiverse and all that.”

“right of course”

the boys come back in to come drag gwen to a training session. but they stay for a minute before leaving

Hobie “so did you ask her”

Pavitr hits his arm but he just shrugs

“Yeah i did”

they turn to you

“Hey. like i said officially i’m not saying anything but… play it smart, play it safe, and i tell him nothing”

“Tell who nothing?

Suddenly he’s in the doorway.

Peter B “shit”

gwen slaps his arm.

he looks at peter with distaste but instead of yelling at any of them or throwing them out.

“Don’t you have training sessions to get to”

“uh yeah right away”

“sorry boss”

Hobie “nah mate im good”

everyone turns to him, even for hobie who seemed to relish in pissing him off more than you did, you hated when he yelled at the kids. i mean really they were teenagers you got second hand embarrassment

“My fault boss, me and gwen were finishing a school project she was working on and i asked the boys to let her practice presenting”

He raises his brow at you.

Gwen “right”

Pavitr “yes just doing science things in here”

Hobie “i just don’t like being on time”

you shoot him a look, and the other two pushed him out the doors into the hall.

Peters still in there, looking between you two, you wait for Miguel to yell at him but he just opens the door again and gestures for him to leave.

—in the hall—

Peter B: is it just me.. or is he kind of sort of maybe in a little bit of good mood.. for him

Pavitr nods and looks at hobie

Gwen: less grumpy than i’ve ever seen him. He hasn’t thrown anything at anyone all day.

the boys chuckle

they turn to them “what?”

“can you guys not see what’s clearly happened”

Gwen “they’re gonna fight”

Pavitr “no— well yeah they’re always fighting but something.. changed” he quirks a brow at hobie

gwen mouths a silent O and Pavitr nods confirming

they burst out laughing

Peter B: “what? what happened”

Hobie “man’s got laid”

“hu- oh- OHHHH”

they just laugh more

“guess i owe you twenty bucks” pavitr says to peter

gwen: “wha- you guys bet on it”

pavitr “hell yeah we did, we’ve been waiting for this for years”

peter “you can pay it off by babysitting may day this weekend, apparently most parents don’t bring their kids to date night”

pavitr “no hell no here take my money”

—back in the lab—

“tutoring?”

“are you asking as my boss”

he sighs “yes.”

“then yes sir i help the younger recruits out with assignments often to help them manage their responsibilities and better keep their head clear for their work here.”

“good. that’s good”

“anything else? you’re not due for another infusion for a few days”

“that’s all you have to say”

“normal. remember?”

“well yeah but.. no one’s listening”

“you don’t know that. if they don’t hear shouting soon they’ll start to think somethings up”

he starts to get exasperated “you said don’t yell at you for no reason”

“yes, but i could always yell at you”

his voice is flat “i’ll pass”

“will you at least walk out the door looking angry”

“shouldn’t be hard”

“are you mad now?”

“no.”

“mentiroso”

liar

“~i’m not~.. mad.” he sighs “i just thought…”

“thought what?” you don’t even look up you’re just focused on the work in front of you.

“never mind.”

and he ends up genuinely storming out.

Gwen “there goes the good mood”

“you three training NOW”

“yikes”

later that night you were trying not to fall asleep at your bench as you worked on the new injection formula. you were getting so close but something just wasn’t right.

you hear the frosted glass doors slide open faintly but you’re barely paying attention.

y/n… y/n!

can you hear me.

“huh.. yeah yeah”

“what are you still doing here it’s 11 pm”

“working”

“.. you’re barely awake”

“i’m fine. go away i need to focus”

you always got like this, ever since you were a kid, you’d hyper focus and work for hours sometimes days on end without taking a break forgetting to take care of yourself.

you’d been in the same position since before lunch without moving, just running the serum slightly different every time

“you need to go home”

“deja de molestarme i will when i’m done”

stop bothering me

“if i let you stay will you be done soon”

“ay si”

“how soon”

“just a couple.. hours maybe tomorrow morning”

“yeah nope”

you go to protest but he’s already dragging you away from your work

“hey no no no just let me do this one—“

“no. you’re done i’m taking you home now”

he dragging you from the lab

“fine fine i will go home i promise just let me turn everything off”

he looks at you for a moment before he finally lets you go and of course you immediately run back in and try to close the door in his face and go back to working but he pulls them back open and grabs you before you can.

“hey! let go”

“then cooperate”

“i will”

“no you won’t, let’s go”

he throws you over his shoulder, much less gently than he had the first time he did it.

he turns all the computers off and puts the vials you had out back in the fridge/incubator while you hang trying to squirm out of his grip.

“miguel bájame ahora mismo así que ayúdame dios te dispararé en el pie”

put me down right now or so help me god i will shoot you in the foot.

“mi cariño if you shoot me i guarantee you will just made me more mad”

“stop calling me that!”

you hear him mutter to himself

“i’ll call you whatever i want”

before he reaches up and pulls the gun from its holster on your hip. he checks the safety’s on but he puts it back. you couldn’t grab it from this angle even if you wanted to.

you shout a string of things you would never dare repeat in front of your nephews in english and in spanish. there’s no spider people left as far as you can tell. he walks into the elevator with you still banging onto his back with your fists, but instead of pushing down he pressed the up button.

“my car is downstairs genius”

“we’re not taking your car”

the door dings open and he steps out onto the roof.

“oh no.. oh hell no you are not swinging me anywhere o’hara do you hear me?”

“not up to you”

he sets you down for a second to put his mask back on.

he grabs your waist with his lasso since you immediately headed back for the elevator and pulls you back

“do that one more time o hara”

“miguel”

“not sure what point you’re trying to prove but this is not helping your case”

“not proving anything sweetheart just being a gentleman, taking you home”

“you call this being a gentleman”

“i call this.. taking you home”

“god you are so infuriating do you know that”

but he doesn’t answer he just picks you up again by the waist and shoots a web onto the nearest rooftop.

“do not do it. i’m serious”

too late. he jumps and you’re swinging from rooftop to rooftop, suddenly instead of fighting your way out of his arms you’re clinging to him with your head buried in his shoulder.

you don’t look up until you feel him land on a solid surface.

he puts you down and you mutter to yourself

“god i always hated that”

he’s confused because he doesn’t remember when you would’ve had to but he doesn’t say anything

you look up and you’re ~not~ at you’re apartment. you’re on a rooftop close enough that you can still see HQ in the distance.

“where are we”

“home”

“no my apartment is the other direction”

“never said your home”

he just starts walking to the stairwell.

“seriously?”

but he just opens the door gestures for you to walk in.

you look around and realize you’ve got no choice so you march past him.

“see? gentleman?”

“cállate”

you walk down into the hallway where his suite is. he picks you up out of the way, unnecessary, to unlock the door. and then holds it again for you to come in. you just stare at him refusing to move before he takes your hand to pull you in and shuts the door behind you.

“bathrooms down the hall on the left in case you wanna shower, i’m gonna go get changed”

you just keep standing there staring

“what?”

“what are you doing”

“getting ready for bed, uhm there’s clean towels in there already you can use the black ones”

you just scoff and turn towards the door

“where the hell are you going”

“home”

“how you gonna get there?”

“walk”

“no you’re not”

“yes i am”

“that’s not safe”

“i have a gun”

“i remember”

you go to unlock the door but he stops you

“o’hara i’m warning you, get out of my way”

“you gonna shoot me cariño?”

you sneer.

“i get you want to act professional at work but do you have to be so..”

“so?”

“impossible?”

“you’re not helping yourself.”

“it’s true”

“you can’t keep me here. that’s kidnapping”

“you’re an adult”

“not how that works”

“leave if you want, i’ll just follow you” he turns back around and heads toward what you assume is his room

“oh and when you turn on the water make sure you turn it all the way up first otherwise it won’t get hot”

and then he just closed the door and leaves you standing in his kitchen.

“son of a..”

you consider going home, you know he’s not bluffing, he’d probably just bring you back here anyway. but you end up in the bathroom showering, and when you get out you rinse your mouth with mouthwash since the jerk hadn’t even considered that you didn’t have anything here, including clothes. you dry off and wrap yourself tightly in the biggest towel you can find

you’re about to put your work clothes back on but you hear shuffling outside the door so you open it to find him right there, holding clean clothes out

but they weren’t yours.

“i’m not wearing your clothes.”

“feel free to stay naked, i won’t mind”

you grab them from his hand and close the door harshly in his smirking face again to get dressed. the shirt is huge on you and fits more like a dress and the only other thing.. is a pair of boxers.

they were clean but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. not that he could see them anyway.

so you opt for your own underwear and throw them in a pile with your clothes which you gather and stuff into your work bag.

you come out and he’s still right there. his eyes sweep down your body

“not one word”

“are you really still gonna act like this”

“you dragged me away from an important breakthrough and then basically made me a hostage in your apartment”

“you’re not a hostage i told you you can leave”

“so you can stalk me back to my place”

“..is it stalking if i’ve spent the night twice?”

you sneer at him and push past back into the kitchen.

“why did you bring me here”

“so i can keep an eye on you and sleep in my own bed. if i hadn’t you would’ve just snuck back to work anyway”

“why not just install cameras im surprised you haven’t already”

“that’s not fair”

“really? it’s not? because this whole thing is starting to go from annoyingly overprotective to controlling real quick”

“i’m sorry if you’d let actually take care of you i wouldn’t have to do this”

“that’s right blame your border line feral control issues on me.”

“i’m not blaming you!”

“it sure sounds like it.”

“Y/N!”

“what!”

he sighs harshly and then takes another breath “nothing.”

“nothing?”

“nothing. i brought you here so you wouldn’t overwork yourself and end up sleeping on the floor of your lab. as much as you all accuse me of just being a grump and needing an attitude adjustment or whatever; i have been trying to be restrained and keep my cool with you but i can’t do that if you keep turning everything into a fight because you don’t know how to talk to me like a grownup. i’m done yelling, i’m done fighting with you. it’s late. i’m going to get in bed. you can sleep out here i’ll get you sheets or.. in my room. or if you insist i will take you home, but i mean take you home you’re not walking in the dark by yourself. ok?”

you’re stunned. he had yelled at you countless times over the years, teased you, made fun of you, besides the day in the office recently it had never even come close to anything like this.

he sounded exhausted “will you please just say something”

you’re quiet for another beat.. but softly you finally say

“i’m hungry.”

“you’re— what?”

you ignore him and start opening cabinets. but there’s nothing besides ingredients. not a snack guy. so you open the fridge as he just stands in the hallway watching.

you look around until you finally see something you can just eat now. a container of strawberries. he must get his groceries in another dimension because no one was growing fresh fruit here.

you take them out and literally just start eating one after the other silently. he still hasn’t moved.

you look up at him finally

slightly defensive you offer up

“i didn’t eat lunch or dinner im starving”

he just walks over to you there’s no anger left in his face. he doesn’t say anything as you turn to him but he just gently places both hands on your hips and then picks you up.

“hey i’m eating tho-“

but he picks them up too with his free hand once he has you secured in his arm. wordlessly he carries you into his room and hands you the strawberries so he can open the door.

he walks in and places you down on the floor, puts the strawberries on the nightstand and pulls the covers back before immediately picking you up again to place you in bed.

“o’hara what-“

he walks out and comes back in a minute later with a glass of water and a plate. he leans down to set them down next to you. he stands back up and finally speaks.

“am i staying or going”

“what”

“am i staying in here or am i sleeping on the couch”

“i- that’s up to you it’s your-“

“i don’t want to fight about this in the morning, i want you to give me straight answer”

you stare up at him and realize he’s completely serious.

“i- i don’t know”

he sighs and turns for the door “don’t get food in my sheets please”

“o’hara— miguel wait”

he stops and turns his head.

“you can’t sleep on the couch in your own apartment”

“it’s fine i don’t mind, just try to sleep”

“~miguel~” you say slightly frustrated. he was really going to make you say it

“you can sleep in here”

he turns back around and pauses for a second before he finally moves to the other side of the bed and gets in. you both don’t say anything. he fidgets to take his watch off and set it on the nightstand and you self consciously pick up another strawberry. once you start you finish the whole container before you even realize.

there’s dim light from the hallway under the door and the moon in the window but other than that it’s dark and you both don’t speak.

he’s leaned back against the headboard next to you. his eyes are closed but you can tell he’s not sleeping

“im sorry”

“hmm?”

“im sorry.. for today. i get really focused on my work and i hate when i get interrupted, but i also forget to eat and i just.. get a little aggravated”

he’s silent and you sigh before laying down when he doesn’t answer

“are you telling me.. this is all because you were hangry”

“i don’t get hangry”

his one eye opens and he looks down at you now facing him looking quietly amused

“if i had known all this time all it took to get an apology out of you was to feed you that would’ve made my job a lot easier”

you lay back on the pillow trying to hide the slight smile “shut up”

but he shuts you up as he rolls over and places a bruising kiss on your lips. you kiss back but he pulls away.

“mm strawberry”

you laugh “knock it off” you cover your face with your hands.

but he gingerly pulls them away.

“no te escondas”

don’t hide

you can just make out his face with the little light in the room. after everything he’d lost you never considered that he would want anything more than.. relief again. but you started to think maybe you were wrong.

you both fell asleep soon after, at some point in the night he had pulled you fully on top of him. you don’t know if it was when he was awake or not when he did it.

you woke up and looked at the clock.

3 am.

you realized he was awake too tracing lazy spider web patterns on your back

you push up just enough to look at him, he looked half asleep and exhausted

“did you sleep at all”

“yeah yeah just woke up a little bit ago, sorry i didn’t mean to wake you” his voice is groggy, you knew he was lying

“it’s ok, you didn’t”

you go to roll off him and resume sleeping on your side but he stops you.

“y/n..”

you look at him

“que es?”

what is it

“i meant it”

“meant what”

“what i said earlier” he was starting to drift off “i don’t…” he yawns slightly “want to.. fig…”

and then he’s out.

you didn’t lay down again until your heartbeat returned to normal even though he was asleep now. you laid your head back down on his chest and tried to fall back asleep. it took a while but the rhythm of his breath and the warmth of his skin lulled you back to sleep eventually.

————

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