#that would pack twice the punch

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {3}

Summary: Charles is beginning to see the cracks in your facade and it only leads to more questions than answers in his quest to get to know you. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm, abusive parents, flashback to Jules WC: 2.1k

One || Two || Three || Four

Ten Years Ago The nurses greeted you by name as you walked into the ICU ward with a book in your hands and your school backpack slung over one shoulder. For the last six months you had visited your friend twice a week and learned the names of all the staff while you sat at his side. 

“I have the new, unreleased, Jack Reacher,” you said as you took your seat between the bed and the window. The only other sounds in the room were the quiet whoosh of the ventilator and the rhythmic beat of the heart monitor. “Father knows the Editor at Bantam Press.”

You dumped your bag on the floor and opened the novel. The action thriller wasn’t something you would choose yourself but Jules had liked the series so you read it aloud. The neurologists seemed to think it could help him and the psychiatrists seemed to think it could help you.

“Moving a guy as big as Keever wasn’t easy,” you began the story. Time slipped away as you turned each page and you were so engrossed in the words that you didn’t notice your phone vibrating in your bag. You were late to your piano lesson, but more importantly someone else was arriving for his weekly visit.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Charles snapped as he breezed into the room and crossed his arms. 

“Same as you, visiting,” you murmured as you packed your bag up, leaving the novel on the table that had a vase of fresh flowers. You touched Jules’ hand with a silent farewell and kept your eyes low as you made your escape. 

You were almost to the door when an arm blocked your way. “Don’t come back again,” Charles growled. 

Your fists clenched at your sides as you dared to lift your head and meet his glare. “He is my friend too.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re just a stupid little girl. He avoids you because he finds you annoying.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know he wouldn’t want you here.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded because he was probably right. That was the last time you visited Jules, and the first time you truly hated Charles. 

“That was harsh,” Lorenzo stated as you passed by on your way out of the room. 

Charles waited for the door to close before he asked his eldest brother, “Were they friends?”

Lorenzo chewed his lip and shrugged. “They weren’t friends,” he admitted and Charles turned his back with a scoff as he made his way to Jules, missing the quiet confession tacked on to the end, “They were closer than that.” 

You had been so furious when you left the hospital that you smashed your fist into a wall in the car park where your driver was waiting. 

“Phew, that’s quite the punch you pack, little lady,” a stranger had chuckled between the drags he took on his cigarette. “With a bit of training you could do some serious damage.”

You looked at the blood running over your knuckles but you were numb to the pain. “I like damage,” you commented quietly. “Do you know any trainers?”

Present Day Charles drove along the scenic coastal road towards Saint Tropez rather than the faster highways. He lowered the windows and donned a pair of sunglasses as the breeze whipped his dark hair back. Everything about his ostentatious image screamed old money until he smiled and it was too carefree. Old money didn’t show such emotion, your mother said it was uncouth to feel anything except superiority. Those weren’t her exact words but it was the gist of the conversation.

“You frown too much,” he commented as he handed you his phone. 

“I hardly have anything to smile about.”

“For starters, we escaped that - whatever that was, because it certainly wasn’t charitable. And now you are in control of the music. I think that is enough for a little smile.”

You tossed his phone back on his lap and turned your attention back to the waves breaking against the rocks. “I don’t listen to music.”

“Everyone listens to music.” 

He fiddled with the stereo and the slow melodic beginning to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata filled the car. Each note sent echoes of pain shooting through your fingertips and you closed your hands as they began to shake. Your knuckles throbbed with the memory of sitting before your mother and reciting the classical greats you had been made to learn. You were constantly showcased to her friends, placed on a pedestal to flaunt skills that had no real purpose other than to illustrate the other families' mediocrities.

Until you made a mistake. 

You flinched as the allegretto movement began and your hands snapped close to your chest as you felt the piano lid come slamming down on them again. It was like falling in a dream and startling as you woke up. Charles was watching carefully as you found yourself back in the leather seat and not the velvet bench.

“Turn it off.”

He hit a button on his steering wheel and silence descended in the small space. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” 

Charles thankfully let it go and concentrated on driving to Monaco. You didn’t even bother to argue with him when he passed around the outskirts of Nice without stopping, you had found a small distraction by making shapes out of the clouds. It was only when he slowed to drive through the signature winding street that passed the casino that you looked down at your chiffon gown and frowned. “I am overdressed, even for this place.”

“You can wear something of mine.”

“No thanks,” you said, quickly shutting down the offer with a shake of your head. You grabbed your phone from your clutch and sent a quick message to Arthur. “I have some spare clothes at your brother’s place, we can just pick them up.”

Charles’ brow lifted. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to stay in this dress all afternoon?”

“No, why do you have clothes at Arthur’s?”

“For when I stay there, obviously. Do you think I stay in a hotel here?” You rolled your eyes. “No, wait, you probably thought ‘Daddy bought me a penthouse’.”

He had the good sense to look guilty but it also confirmed your suspicion. 

You knew the small city almost as well as Nice and found your bearings as he made his way to Arthur’s apartment complex. It wasn’t far from Charles’ but you had never been there, Arthur had just pointed it out on one of the many outings into the city. 

“You have a key too?” Charles asked as you unlocked Arthur’s door instead of knocking.

“You’re starting to sound a little jealous now.” The door swung open and Arthur waved as you shot past the sofa he was relaxing on and ducked into his bedroom to change into a pair of leggings and one of his old Prema shirts.

“Who’s jealous?” he asked as you flopped down beside him and used his thighs as a pillow. 

You draped a hand over your forehead and sighed dramatically. “Your brother is madly in love with me, but he can’t get over how close we are, Tur. There may be a duel at dawn, ready your pistols and kiss your mother in case it is the last time.”

“You really need a nap don’t you,” Arthur teased. His fingers carefully plucked the bobby pins from your hair and Charles watched on silently as the haunted look that had been in your eyes the entire ride faded away. “Dare I ask why you are here? You didn’t kidnap her did you?”

“I’d probably be floating facedown in the riviera if I tried that,” Charles replied with an indignant snort. “She voluntarily got into my car.”

“Ah, that’s progress, I suppose.”

“It was the lesser of two evils,” you corrected as you closed your eyes. The late night was beginning to catch up with you and a yawn cracked your jaw before a soft blanket fell over you. “Mm, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Your brain hadn’t realised Arthur’s hands were still busy and the voice came from the blanket box where Charles had stood. Rather than question the goodwill, it was easier to pretend he hadn’t been nice because it was starting to really confuse you. 

“Did your genius brother tell you his plan?” you asked as you shifted around until you were comfy and looked up at your best friend. 

“He may have mentioned it on the drive home last night,” Arthur said. “Honestly, it was all he talked about.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.” Arthur turned his attention back to you. “Are you actually considering it?”

You barked a laugh that was a big enough ‘no’ but followed it up with, “Absolutely not. It wouldn’t even work anyway.”

“Why not?” Charles asked, taking a seat in the armchair opposite.

“No offence, but what do you bring to the table? Outside of F1 your name doesn’t mean anything.”

Growing up in Monaco where one in three people were millionaires, Charles wasn’t blind to reality, he knew first hand how elitist the ‘old money’ families were. “So why marry Jules?” 

You heard the pain that one question held and sighed as you sat up, woefully abandoning the idea of sleep. Charles didn’t like how the question made him sound petulant, or that he was somehow a better choice than Jules was - he didn’t think that at all, he just couldn’t understand why the plan wouldn’t work.

“It wasn’t about Jules. You forget that while he raced under the French flag the Bianchi’s came from Milan. The Italian market is one Father wants to break into.” You got up and went to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of Prosecco from the fridge. It was a little flat after being open a few days and you swirled the drink around, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. “Father’s five year plan was for Jules to win a championship with Ferrari, cementing the name back into Italian households, and then train his new son-in-law to join the family business.” 

The silence was heavy but Charles eventually recovered from staring out the window deep in thought. “Did Jules know this?”

“He knew enough.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He knew he was important enough to blackmail my father, kind of ballsy if you ask me, but it worked. Jules threatened to quit racing if he revoked the funding for your driving academy.” You drank down the Prosecco in a few unladylike gulps before refilling it as the bitterness in your belly grew. “Must have been nice to have someone fight all your battles.”

“I’m trying to help you now, but you’re being stubborn,” Charles said as he crossed the room and took the bottle away. “I don’t understand why.”

“You don’t understand? Maybe it’s because you treated me like shit for years and I can’t trust you.”

“I thought Jules didn’t like you, I figured it had to be for a good reason.”

“No, you figured you could judge me without even trying to get to know me. That’s pretty fucking shitty, but you know what? I’ve come to expect it from everyone. The only person that’s ever treated me like a fucking human being is sitting right there.”

Charles followed the angry point of your finger to his brother and sighed. “I can’t change the past, okay, but I am trying to make up for it now. Please, just let me help you, it’s the least I can do - for you and for Jules. It’s just a job.”

You crossed your arms and tipped your chin back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I would even protect you? I could let you get mobbed and point them in the right direction.”

Charles smiled and you realised you were no longer impervious to the fact he was quite handsome but it was his words that shocked you more. “Because I believe you’re better than that.”

“That might be your biggest mistake.”

Charles held his hand out. “We will have to test it and see. Deal?”

You looked at Arthur and so much hope filled his face it was impossible to stomach the idea of watching it fall away. So, you shook Charles’ hand and swore you heard Jules’ laugh in the seagulls' cries. Yeah, he would probably be laughing, he always laughed when you made a mistake. 

“There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn,” Jules would say.

You only wondered just how bad this latest lesson in the school of hard-knocks would be.

Part Four.

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

[justmyguiltyggpleasure]

2nd Chance at Love (pt.1)

Summary: You and Karina used to date during trainee days until she decided to break up with you right before debuting. Nowadays, you're a member of Le Sserafim and have quite a player reputation. What happens when you cross each other's life again but this time, one of her members is interested in you

Warnings: none for this one, just an intro.

PT.2

(2020)

- May I at least know why? - you ask her after what felt like an eternity in silence. The cold night feeling even colder now in this almost desert park.

- I made the cut. I'm going to debut and I just can't have anything jeopardizing that. - Jimin, your now ex-girlfriend, said. Face stoic and voice devoid of any emotion like you've never heard before.

You've been dating for two years now and until a minute ago you'd swear you could get through anything together. Having been by each other's side in the worst moments. You were there for her whenever she would second guess herself, whenever she would call crying after being scolded a bit too harshly, taking her on dates on your days off just to get her mind away from everything, and she would do the same for you too.

You thought it was forever. Well... what do you know?

- Why would I ever do anything to jeopardize your career, Jimin? - you ask feeling a bit offended.

- I can't be caught in a dating scandal, much less a gay one. - she answered simply, using the same tone as before, not sparing you a glance.

- Jimin, we're not gonna be caught in a dating scandal, we could easily pass up by being friends. It's not like we were ever out in the oper, kissing in public or anything like that. - you try to reason with her. You knew that once this conversation was settled, it'd be definite.

- I'm not willing to take the risk. I don't think it's worth it. - your eyes welled up at that moment. "It's not worth it? We're not worth it? These past two eyes weren't worth it?"

- Yoo Jimin, is this a joke? Look me in the eyes and say it again. - she turned to you with those empty eyes

- It is not worth it. - it felt like a punch in your guts. You wanted to cry. You wanted her to at least show a little emotion, just so you felt like you mattered. You wanted to yell at her but instead, you just sighed

- Okay. If that's what you want. - with that you stood up and left. Letting the tears fall as soon as you crossed the street.

That's was the last time you let someone get so close to your heart romantically.

(2023)

It's been a year since you debuted with Le Sserafim. Honestly, being gay in the industry wasn't that bad, specially when you're the girl crush of the group, with a tomboy style and confident aura, you managed to attract plenty of girls. You usually slept with staff members or backup dancers, unless a female idol approached you first, you would stay clear from them. But from idols to staff, you would make sure that everyone you slept with knew your one rule

'I don't get with a girl more than once', you'd make that clear to every woman that came to you and luckily they all understood that pretty well and were only looking for some fun or a taste of the rainbow.

Le Sserafim's promotions overlapped with Aespa's and Eunchae took the chance to interview their leader and maknae for Star Diary. You stayed with you members back in your dressing room. Close as you were with your members, none of the them new of you past with Jimin.

- Y/N, can you go get Eunchae? She must be done by now and you're done changing. - Sakura asked and you blinked twice before answering. You knew who your maknae was interviewing.

- Of course, unnie. I'll be right back. - exiting the room you take a deep breath before proceeding.

Bowing for sunbaes and greeting some acquaintances on your way you get to the room the use for the recordings.

The door slightly ajar let you know the staff was already packing, maybe you're safe after all. You knock and let yourself in.

- Unnie! - Eunchae comes crashing into you for a hug

- Manchae! - you answer with the same enthusiasm and return the hug like you don't spend almost the entire day together and don't live in the same dorm. - Sakura-unnie sent me to get you. Are you ready to go? - you ask looking in her eyes failing to notice two pairs of eyes watching your interactions.

- Almost done. Let me just say goodbye to my guests. Come with me. - she pulls you before you could say anything and that's how you find yourself face to face with your ex after 3 years.

She almost looks surprised when you approach.

- Hello, Karina-sunbaenim, Ningning-sunbaenim. Nice to meet you! - you say bowing to them thanking anything sacred for your voice not wavering.

- Hello, y/n! - Ningning says waving

- Hello! - is the only thing Jimin day and she still looks kind of shocked.

I mean, she knew she would have to meet you eventually with promotions and all and she knew you were Eunchae's member. Having agreed to go out together with their respective members, she was bound to see you again. This industry was only so big. Still, she wasn't counting on seeing you today. She's caught off guard.

- Let's go, manchae. We're wrapping promotions today and I promised dinner's on me. I'll let you pick the restaurant. - looking at your member again, you say smiling softly

- Yay! - Eunchae smiles brightly. - Unnies, I loved having you as guests. Let's meet up again soon. - turning back to you - Y/n-unnie, I worked until now, give me a piggyback ride.

Sighing you crouch down and she jumps on your back laughing when you pretend to drop her.

Turning again you nod your head to the girls and politely say goodbye to everyone in the room, turning around and leaving with your maknae.

Jimin following with her eyes unaware of the other pair of eyes also following you with amusement and interest.

- I'll ask for her number next time. Maybe I can be an exception to that rule - Ningning says more to herself than anyone proceeding to exit the room leaving a stunned Jimin behind, feeling something she wasn't supposed to feel

___________________>_<_________________

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#karina x reader #ningning x reader #aespa karina #aespa ningning #aespa x fem reader #karina x fem reader #ningning x fem reader #aespa x female reader #aespa x reader #J-writes

[redstarwriting]

the clash | ii. time bomb

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 1.5k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, y’all almost fight twice lmao

a/n: felt bad only posting the first chapter, so here’s the second one as well! i’ll get the third one out as soon as i can, but a bitch has work tomorrow and the next day. please enjoy chapter two everyone! and if you wanna be added to the taglist just let me know! :)

now reading: ii. time bomb

previous chapter: i. hey, ho! let’s go!

next chapter: iii. black planet

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Hobie swings his way to where he’s sure Gwen is, and in doing so he will probably also find Miles and Pavitr. He’s sure he looks like if someone said the wrong thing to him, he would punch them in the face, because honestly? He just might. And he doesn’t care. You pissed him off. With your stupid opinions. People like you are the reason anarchy can never succeed, you’re either all in or you’re all out. He hates the way you dismissed him, which is a shame because he really thought you were drop-dead gorgeous.

Speaking of drop, that thought makes him drop. Like, actually. He face plants.

He groans. Fucking hell, he’s never had to deal with this type of hatred before. Usually, it’s just cut and dry ‘I hate you cause xyz’, but fuck you are making it hard. While he hates you for what you said, he loves your style, and he respects you standing your ground and not giving into him with your beliefs, but at the same time, you piss him off. He glances around, “Meant to do that.” No one in particular hears him, but he quickly webs off again. He searches for bright blond hair, and sure enough, he sees Gwen. She’s chilling in the common room Hobie claimed as his own a while back. He claimed it by… redecorating. He just made it feel more like home, and since Miguel is such a lame ass, he didn’t appreciate all the colorful spray paint and broken furniture. But Hobie doesn’t really give a fuck. As he gets closer, he can see that Miles and Pavitr are there too, and… absolutely fucking not.

He lands directly next to you with an unamused look on his face. “And who invited you into my home away from home?” You look at him and roll your eyes. “This your place? Well, that explains why it looks like someone gave Mayday Parker a 50-pack of markers and told her to go to town in here–”

“Ha ha. Funny.”

“–and to answer your question, I invited myself,” you say smugly, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t try to make me like you, it’s not gonna work, love,” he growls, and everyone can tell by the way he said love that he certainly did not mean it as a term of endearment. “I wouldn’t dream of it, mate,” you say, imitating his accent in over-exaggerated way. “I don’t think they are actually calling him their mate,” Pavitr whispers to Miles, who gives him an expression practically dripping in ‘no shit.’ Hobie tears his gaze away from you and looks at Gwen. “We need to show this twat around,” he huffs, and Gwen raises her eyebrows. “We? Isn’t that your job,” she says, and Miles nods. “Yeah, I remember you said you made a deal with Miguel that–”

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s my ‘job,’ when have I ever followed the rules of a fuckin’ job?” he seethes, and you snicker. “Aw, how endearing, the punk rebel has a job. I’ll be sure to go to Miguel and tell him you’re doing amazing, so that you don’t get fired, in fact, you could get promoted!”

“That’s it,” Hobie growls and turns to you, grabbing the neck of his guitar and getting ready to use it. You smirk and slightly crouch, ready to jump away or towards him, based on his next move. “OKAY! Okay, we’ll help you just put the damn guitar down,” Miles says, jumping between the two of you. Hobie looks at him before looking at you with a deep frown. “I don’t need help. I just need to make sure other people are here, so I don’t murder this nitwit,” he says, tossing his guitar back so it hangs off his back again. “If anythin’, you’re helpin’ them.”

“I don’t need help either. Especially not yours. I’ll find my way around here myself,” you say, crossing your arms. He turns and offers you a smile. “Well now that you say you definitely don’t want my help, looks like I’m gonna be that friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and assist you.”

“My hero,” you say sarcastically, pushing past him and walking out of the room. He motions for the others to follow you first, and walks out last, slinking in the back. Gwen takes up the role he usually plays in showing everyone around. You nod and listen, occasionally asking a question and cracking a joke. He hates to admit it, but your jokes are actually very funny. It’s refreshing to hear deadpan, straightforward, dry comedy instead of the puns and silly jokes all the other Spider-People love to make. But he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even crack a smile. Just watches you.

‘Like a creep,’ you think, catching him staring at you for what feels like the 50th time. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you were getting from him. Truthfully, he’s probably the most attractive person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Such a tragedy he’s also the worst person you’ve ever had the displeasure to speak with.

“Your suit is so cool, by the way,” Miles says to you, and you give him a grin. “Thanks. Made it myself.”

“Yeah. I can tell,” you hear Hobie pipe up, and your head snaps towards him. “Because it’s so stylish, fashionable, and better than anything you could do yourself?”

“No. ‘Cause it looks like it was put together by a colorblind toddler. If you look close enough, the blacks don’t even match,” he says, smirking. Now this was a lie. All the black in your suit was a perfect shade of raven, he just knew it would piss you off. And it did. “Fuck you. At least my suit doesn’t look like a twelve-year-old who just discovered Hot Topic for the first time,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth there, mate.”

“You watch yours, mate.”

“Okay, both of you shhhhhhh!” Gwen says, and you both look at her. “Don’t tell me what to do–”

“Stop talking like me!”

“What?! You stop talking like me!”

“Oh my God, the romantic tension is through the roof right now!” Pavitr suddenly pipes up, and now the both of you are staring at him, dark expressions on your faces. “I’d rather be eaten alive by a single piranha so it would take days until I finally succumbed to the sweet release of death,” you hiss and Hobie nods. “Finally. Somethin’ we agree on.” He turns and looks at you, and you roll your eyes at him. “Way to de-escalate, buddy,” Miles whispers to Pavitr, and Pavitr sighs as Miles walks a little faster to catch up with everyone else. “But I was being serious…”

Gwen continues to show you around, and when she finally finishes, you all are back at ‘Hobie’s common room.’ You walk back inside and sit on the tattered and broken-down couch. The way the room is decorated is kind of cool, you must admit. You’re just not a fan of the mismatched colors everywhere. And it could use a couple more decorations. Like bat skeletons. Or just live bats. That would be adorable. “Thanks for showing me around,” you thank Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr. “Not you, though,” you say to Hobie and he snorts. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to thank me for anything.”

“Why do you two hate each other so much? Didn’t you literally just meet?” Miles asks, looking exhausted from the snarky remarks coming from both of you. “We did,” you confirm. “And we don’t get along cause they don’t have any strong belief system.”

“Yes, I do! I’m just realistic, and he can’t understand that,” you say and he rolls his eyes. “Realistic, eh? I already told you I led a rebellion.”

“And I told you it doesn’t matter because everyone is shit. How many villains have you fought since this rebellion you led?”

“None of your fuckin’ business.”

“So, you’ve fought at least one. What did that rebellion get you then, huh?”

“I recommend you shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Please, do try. I need a new skeleton for my collection,” you growl and the two of you jump at each other. Luckily, Gwen and Miles web both of you and hold you back. “That’s enough of that,” Gwen says. “I have an idea,” Miles says, “why don’t we go visit your universe, (Y/n)? Maybe then Hobie can see why you’re so… negative.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere near that place,” Hobie nearly yells. “Good. I don’t want you there anyway.”

“On second thought, I think it might be very eye-opening to see the world you grew up in. Maybe I can team up with your sinister six and put you in your place,” he spits out at you, causing you to glare at him and flip him off again. “A field trip sounds fun, especially after all this just happened. Maybe it will help the two of you lighten up,” Pavitr says, and you both roll your eyes. “Fine. You can all come. But if you step one toe out of line, Hobie–”

“What? You’ll yell at me?”

“No. I’ll torture you to the point that you would beg me for death.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

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『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard​ @sparklyphantom​​ @weyrrii*

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

[rainylana]

Preachers daughter

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie is becoming obsessed with “plain jane”.

warnings: based around the character/artist of ethel cain. language, reader is described as thin, brown hair/eyes and very plain and boring. eddie describes her as “ditzy” and “weird”. hints of physical abuse/bruising. talk of religion and christianity, church. reader is starved of attention. some angsty shadows around the edges, some fluff here and there. Slight smut, reader tries to give Eddie a blowjob, hints of sexual abuse.

a/n: my first fic in months!! leave me some love and let me know what you think!! also, if this gets enough love and positive feedback i might make another part!

You never spoke unless spoken to, had a plus marks in grades. You never smiled. You had few friends, a couple girls you sat with a lunch, but no one you hung out with outside of school. Eddie had started watching you when senior year came along. He didn’t know why. You hadn’t changed that much. You looked the same, acted the same. You were the same boring, plain Jane. That was what everyone called you. Plain Jane. You tried to not let it hurt your feelings.

Eddie hadn’t interacted with you much. Nodding a hi in class, waving at you on the bus once or twice. Offering an apology if he’d ran into you in the hall. But never really a conversation. He’d spoken a full sentence to you once in the nurses office. His nose had been bleeding from a punch, while you had been in there from a stomach ache. You both had sat in that little room with ice packs and a mint.

He was starting to become obsessed with you, the gang pestered him about it, laughing at him. He always talked about how mysterious you were, wondering why you never spoke. “It’s like she’s amish or something? Did she used to be amish?” He’d asked one day.

He wanted to know more about you, but how? He couldn’t exactly strike up a conversation with you. You barely reciprocated back the words. When the day came when you both finally had an actual interaction, it fueled the fire in his belly, his growing desire to get to know you, to understand why he liked you so much. Right now, he still didn’t know.

On the way back from Hellfire, it was starting to cloud up very darkly. A storm was brewing, and from the looks of it, a bad one. Eddie’s radio was cranked to the max, a new single out by a band he had yet to know the name. He wondered if other people would discover his songs like that one day, by a band they had no idea who’s name belonged to it.

That’s when he saw you, on the side of the road. He knew it was you from the long, brown dress that fell down to your calves, black flats and hair laid straight down your back. Plain Jane. “The hell?” He muttered under his breath, pulling up slowly and rolling down his window.

You stopped abruptly, startled by the oncoming vehicle, looking up to the window, the driver, with wild brown eyes.

“Need a ride, y/n?” His hand laid on the crank of the window. “Looks like we got a hell of a storm coming.”

You looked up to the sky, the wind blowing hair into your mouth. “I’m not supposed to ride with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers.” He chuckled. “You’ve known me since second grade.”

You gave him a look, a long one, holding your gold cross necklace before you eventually nodded, opening up his van door and climbing inside. He offered a hand to you, but you managed inside fine without it.

You lived about five miles north of his place on the outskirts of town, the baptist church, your fathers church, also being a mile from town. Your father was the only preacher in town to have children. The relationship with your parents was complicated. You idolized your mother, loved your father and brother. At the end of the day, that’s what was important and nothing else.

Three minutes into driving. Eddie couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So strangers, huh?” He forced a laugh to break the silence. “You consider me a stranger?”

You looked over at him, confused and in a daze. “No. But you don’t go to church.”

“So?”

“Daddy doesn’t want me to associate with people who don’t believe in God.”

“Who says I don’t believe in God?” He defended, hand on the wheel and other lighting a cigarette. “Just because I don’t go to church doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God, Y/n.”

“Do you?” You said curiously, eyes on the cigarette.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, blowing smoke out the window. “I don’t not believe in God. I have bad luck as is. I don’t need God pissed at me for not believing in em’, ya know?”

His words didn’t make much sense to you, but regardless, you nodded and kept quiet. It wasn’t in your best interest to pry uncomfortable conversations. However, being the daughter of a preacher meant that students, your peers, liked to confess to you when they had problems. One day, Chrissy Cunningham had needed to get something off her chest, worried she was going to go to hell for smoking weed under the bleachers. You didn’t feel like Eddie needed this kind of treatment; counseling.

Eddie held out the cigarette for you to take, to which you politely accepted. It didn’t surprise him. He knew you smoked. He caught you one day underneath the large oak tree by lovers lake. He’d shocked him almost to his knees. He figured it was your only source of rebellion. He didn’t tease you for it.

You inhaled and exhaled, feeling ten times more relaxed as you breathed in the smoke. You handed it back to him. “Thank you.” You said softly. “It’s nice of you to take me home.”

He waved his hand nonchalantly. “I’m not gonna let the reverend’s daughter walk home in a storm. I probably wouldn’t get into heaven, would I?” He smirked over at you.

You couldn’t help but smile, tucking a hair behind your hair. The corner of his eye caught your hands, purple bruising around your knuckles. He stared at them for a moment, eyes bouncing between you, your hands and the road. They were angry and red, dark around the bone. It looked painful. He gave you one last look, a confused, strange one, before turning his eyes back to the road. How did you hurt your hands so badly? It looked like you’d been beating a punching bag all night long. He forced it out of his mind to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t his business.

“So,” Eddie cleared his throat. “You got big plans this weekend?”

“I’m going to read.” You answered plainly.

“Fun.”

He was kicking himself for being so awkward. He’d been thinking of you for months now, wanting to get you alone so he could understand why you had gotten under his skin. It’s not like you were drop dead gorgeous. You weren’t ugly by any means. You were pretty. But pretty like other girls he went to school with? It’s not like you shared similar interests. Hell, he wouldn’t know. You’d never share your interests with anyone anyways. Your hobbies consisted of reading the bible and sewing on the front porch.

Thunder began rolling in, rain hitting the window shield. Eddie turned on his wipers, quickly rolling up the drivers side window to avoid getting wet. You were looking out your window to the sky, bringing up a nail to bite.

“Scared of storms.” He noticed your habit of anxiety.

“No.” You shook your head. “I love them. I’m hoping for a tornado.”

He gave you a weird look, nodding. “Okay.”

You hoped the storm would destroy your home and everyone in it.

You swallowed back bile and pushed the sinful thoughts from your young mind, taking away your finger and down to your lap. Lightening struck.

“Shit.” Eddie cursed. “Maybe we should pull over. Shouldn’t drive in this.”

You stayed quiet, fingers mentally crossed the storm would worsen. You loved storms, the danger of it all. It could end your life and that excited you. It was up to mother nature whether you lived or died.

“There’s a boat dock with a shack up ahead. Reefer Rick’s place. He’s outta town.” Eddie spoke louder over the pelting rain, which was turning to hail. You both ran to the shack, your feet splashing in muddy puddles that dirtied up your pale legs.

You both panted when you got inside safely. You were cold, wrapping your arms around your freezing body. It was dark and musty, covered in cobwebs and mold, empty paint cans and boxes ruined from the leaky roof. You were warmer running out in the rain.

“Here.” Eddie held out his hellfire jacket to you.

You shook your head. “No, thank you.”

“You’re gonna get yourself a cold.” He kept his arm out stretched. “Come on, you’ve got less layers on than I do.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated. “I don’t like the…well, the logo of your club on the back.” Your cheeks blushed red in embarrassment, hoping not to hurt his feelings after saving you from the icy storm.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Suit yourself.”

Eddie fixed himself comfortably against the wall, huddled up in a little corner, breathing into his hands to warm himself up. You shivered in your spot, arms crossed and feet shuffling to stay warm yourself. “How long do you think the storm will last?”

“Thought you liked storms?” He didn’t look up at you, yet he still smirked slightly.

You swallowed and turned away to look around some more, hoping the movement would keep you from going into hypothermic shock.

An hour later and Eddie had managed to build a fire in a metal trash can that was cut in half. Rick had kept some wood and news papers in the closet, so Eddie used that until he had a descent fire roaring to give off satisfying warmth. The storm really wasn’t letting up. Eddie, was beginning to grow agitated. He’d been waiting months to spend time with you, understand you, and you would barely speak to him.

“How’d you do on the english test?”

It was hypocritical of him to talk about, or show interest in grades when he was riding the fine line of a D and F, but he was tired of the silence.

You sat a few feet away from him, curled up in yourself, his jacket thrown over your shoulders. He insisted you wear it when he heard your teeth start to chatter. Your dress was slightly damp, but growing more dry by the second, your hair ratted.

“I did okay.” You said meekly.

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You sure don’t say much, do you?”

You looked up to find him staring at you inquisitively. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“I think you have plenty to say, actually.” He corrected you, pointing a mud clad finger. “I think you’re just afraid of what people will think.”

“I know what people think of me.” You clasped your cross necklace. “They call me “plain Jane”.” I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”

He had in fact, yes. Even called you the term before, several times.

“It doesn’t matter to me, though.” You shook your head. “Only one person really judges us in the end.”

Eddie looked uneasy at the thought of being judged by…God. He looked you over, swallowing as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell.”

His language startled you. “What is it?”

He laughed, shaking a hand. “It’s just…I don’t know. I thought maybe it was fate that I got to pick you up today, so you know…we could get to know each other better.”

You gave him a strange look. “But you already know who I am.”

“I mean,” He stressed in annoyance. “I don’t know, take you out on a date or something? Damn.” He cursed, shaking his head like this was the absolute worst thing he’d ever done.

Your eyes widened and your lips parted. “Me?”

He nodded, leaning back and crossing his arms. He looked like he was a five year old pouting. “I get it if you’re not interested. Just tell me rather than sit there with your mouth hangin’ open.”

You closed it automatically, swallowing nervously. You were completely astonished. You never knew that Eddie had those kinds of feelings for you. Eddie was just…Eddie. He was always there causing mischief and trouble, picking fights here and there. But now that you sat and thought about it, there were many of times you recalled catching his eye in the hallway or the cafeteria. He was handsome. You liked his hair, though you knew your father wouldn’t approve of how long it was.

Your father wouldn’t like this, but he didn’t like you either. There wouldn’t be any chance of being able to go out with Eddie, not being able to risk him seeing the both of you together.

“Maybe,” You started, taking his jacket off your shoulders. “Maybe we could have our date here.”

“Here?” He craned a brow. “In this shack? Would be the cheapest date I’ve ever been on.” He chuckled, scratching above his eyebrow. “So you’re interested then? You’ll go out with me?”

Your smile turned into a frown, your guilt and fear sinking in. Eddie was a man, and just like any man, only wanted one thing. Surely a date was not a date. It was a date. You supposed you didn’t mind, after thinking about it for a moment. You didn’t mind the idea of sleeping with him. It excited you actually, but not anymore than the idea of being taken out, treated like a real lady.

“Alright.” You nodded.

He smiled, clapping his hands together. “Good.”

Five minutes past. No one had said anything. You assumed he wanted you to make the move. You startled him when you crawled over to him. “What are-” Was all he’d gotten out before you were climbing into his lap to roughly kiss him. It was all so sudden, and his body was having a hard time registering what happened. He couldn’t keep up with you.

When he did, he cupped the back of your head and slipped his tongue into your mouth, your own saliva dripping down his chin. Your hand slipped from his chest to his belt, but before you could undue it, Eddie’s eyes opened and narrowed. “Whoa, now,” He chuckled, pushing you back gently. “Slow down.”

“You don’t like it?” You looked hurt. “I thought-”

“Well, yeah,” He chuckled. “I liked what you were doing, but all in good time sweetheart.”

It was so fast and so sudden, everything that had happened. Your heart was still racing from making out, your body still wracking with building pleasure. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” He scooted up against the wall. “It’s okay. I just want to take you out on an actual date. I didn’t mean I just wanted to fuck you in this old shack.” He snorted, teeth shining in the dark. He looked so amused, so interested in you.

“O-oh.” You stammered. “I didn’t know.”

“Is that okay?” He asked you.

“Oh, yes, yes,” You rushed, glowing red. You didn’t know how dates worked. You didn’t go on them. You weren’t allowed to leave the house very much anyways. You weren’t sure what excuse you’d be able to come up with to get away, but surely you’d come up with something. You were sneaky, after all. Had to be.

Eddie could tell by your body language that you’d never been asked out before. As dirty as it was, that excited him. When the rain stopped, he helped you up, put out the fire and drove you him. He never stopped thinking about your hand on his chest, and neither did you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x y/n #eddie blurb #eddie munson x female character

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

I’ve seen a number of imagines where due to interdimensional shenanigans or being liminal, Danny Phantom is more durable than most people in the dc dimension.

And those are cool and fine and all, but imagine if it was the opposite?

Danny Fenton gets punched twice and dies.

Which is fun on its own, but Danny is half ghost. He’s cursed to an existence where he can never truly be alive or dead for all eternity. Meaning that after a little while, Danny is back at it again, on the streets of Gotham in the same fleshy body he just died in.

He has to turn into ghost form first, but he can turn invisible as a ghost, so it’s fine, no one sees him glowing before he heads into an inconspicuous alleyway to return to life.

The blood stains would be a problem, but it’s Gotham so no one bats an eye.

Except for the bats.

(Warning: some death, corpses, and gore ahead)

—————

It always haunts Duke when he fails to save someone. He’s a hero now, and that’s part of the gig, but still.

He keeps wondering if maybe he had been faster, or stronger, or just a moment sooner, maybe then the civilian would’ve lived.

He sees the corpse in his nightmares, a reminder that he wasn’t good enough. It’s not rational, but Duke can’t get the image of the dead teen out of his head- the lifeless blue eyes, the dark hair, the…

… is that him?

No, it can’t be. It looks a lot like the kid, but his mind must be playing tricks on him or something. Because he saw that kid die. This kid, across the street, they must be someone else. Maybe they’re related?

Duke hears a commotion down a nearby alley, and leaves the mystery for later.

—————

Cass is concerned about this dead body.

In her line of work, it’s normal to see a lot of corpses. What’s strange about this one is that it makes no sense.

It’s splattered on the ground like it fell from a skyscraper. The tallest building in the area is five stories high.

The body is too fresh to have been from a while ago. It doesn’t show signs of having been moved. There weren’t any helicopters in the area recently it might’ve fallen from.

She surveys the area again. Perhaps this is a trap?

No security cameras or bad guys in sight.

She turns back to the body-

It’s gone. Only a pool of blood remains, undisturbed.

No one could have snuck past her. Something strange is going on.

—————

The bullet Jason shot shouldn’t have done this much damage.

The teenager was accidentally hit in a hostage situation. Usually Jason doesn’t miss like that, but the bullet should have just nicked him. A bandaid should have done the trick.

But this kid is leaking blood like a fire hose. It’s absolutely gushing out.

You never realize how much blood a human body has in it until you see it spread out all over the floor.

Jason puts pressure on the wound, damn the bad guys he is not having a dead civilian on his hands if he can help it.

He grabs a tourniquet from the first aid pack he carries. Fastens it around the kids arm-

- and the kid’s arm flops off. Not normal. Either Jason has just gotten Superman-levels of strength, or something is wrong with the kid.

The kid’s rapid breaths devolve into quick gasps. The blood from his wound slows to a trickle. Jason feels the kids heart go from pounding to nothing-

Fuck.

Instinct driving Jason more than any sense of reason, he puts the kid on his back to do chest compressions.

Jason pushes down. He hears a loud Squelch. His hands go through the kid’s torso.

Double fuck. Jason might know CPR, but he doesn’t know how to deal with this. His panicked-brain remembers he’s in a fight right now, and Jason turns towards the people who held the kid hostage.

They immediately surrender.

#dpxdc #batman

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

ee congrats. What about a blurb or headcanons, whichever u want i suppose, of fake dating with Frank Castle having to infiltrate something or another? ^_^

Faking It.

frank castle x female reader

warnings - cursing. allusions to sex.

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

He’s got his hand on your ass.

Sure, the two of you are playing a couple, undercover in a Mr & Mrs Smith style mission. But surely there’s a thousand other places he could put his hand.

You look at him with a scowl on your face and he winks, all cheeky and boyish. Heat crawls its way up your skin, and you beg yourself to calm down. It’s fake. It’s all pretend.

When you enter the ballroom of the gala, it’s packed with people. Frank winds a hand around the back of your neck, steering you in the right direction. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

You’re laughing and playing fake niceties to an old couple at the bar. They’re telling you how beautifully in love you look, and all you can do is rest your head on Frank’s shoulder and sigh wistfully as they coo. He pulls you into him with a hand on your ass, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. He knows he’s riling you up. That’s why he’s doing it.

It’s becoming a game, now. Who can wind the other person up more.

Frank is sat on a fancy leather couch, sweet talking a middle aged woman in a long purple dress. You approach, and take the spot right on his lap, wiggling your hips to get comfortable. He hisses in your ear, fake smile still on his face, and the satisfaction you feel is unparalleled.

You’re out in the hallway coming up with a plan when two men walk past, eyeing you suspiciously. You do what any logical woman would do - smash your lips to Franks and hope he doesn’t question it. He kisses you back with much more passion than necessary, one hand around your neck and the other one on your stomach, pushing you backwards into the wall. You bite his lip as hard as you can and he groans, all deep and pretty, and you’re starting to think this plan has backfired massively.

“Damn, girl.”

“Had to think on my feet.”

“Don’t think your feet were the body part you were thinkin’ with.”

You punch his arm as hard as you can, laughing when he grabs it in pain.

“Let’s get that fucking info and get out of here. I’m sick of everyone telling me how handsome my husband is.”

“He is though, isn’t he?” he teases as he grabs your hand, walking back into the crowds of people unaware of your scheme.

Your fingers stay intertwined for the rest of the evening. He squeezes every now and again, once or twice, and you figure out the code pretty quickly. It’s a silent communication, and it works. In no time, you’ve got what you needed, slipping out of the front door and down the huge winding driveway.

You snatch your hand away, and smack his ass as hard as you physically can.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“Revenge. You grabbed my ass way more than necessary tonight.”

He laughs, and you hate the way it makes you smile.

“Good kiss, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re a good kisser. Even if you did draw blood.”

“I’m about to draw a lot fuckin’ more if you don’t shut up, Frank.”

He chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Might suggest we play a couple every time we go undercover. This is kinda fun.”

#murphy’s 5k celebration #frank castle x oc #frank castle fic #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fluff #frank castle angst #frank castle x reader fluff #frank castle x reader angst #frank castle x reader smut #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #the punisher smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #the punisher angst #the punisher x you

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 7

Mickey Milkovich + Wrestling or sparring

Still been studying, thanks to my teacher giving us twice as much work than usual, so this isn’t as long as I would have wanted.

I have no idea what warning to put for Mickey talking and thinking the way he does, but mickey warning I guess??

kinktober 2023 masterlist

Mickey Milkovich wasn’t the type to go down without a fight, it laid deep in his blood to never go down, and if he did, to go down swinging. Even just playfighting always lead to real scuffling or outright fighting resulting in bloody noses or knocked out teeth. Apparently, he had anger issues, and they always seemed to flare right up when someone got him swinging. It was why he found himself in some less than stellar gym in the south side, run by some gay guy and his friends.

Everyone knew about the gym’s main owner, (Y/N), his family had lived in the south side as long as anyone else’s, were mixed up in the same stuff as everyone else, and got into trouble like everyone else. Only difference about this guy was that he was openly gay, and would knock anyone out cold if they tried to target him for it. Mickey had found him at the ends of his fists a couple of times, and had always woken up with the sickest migraines, maybe even concussions, though he had never gone to the hospital about it.

(Y/N) had left the south side for a while, apparently he was off to get an education on a scholarship, but strangely enough he had returned to the shithole that was the south side. No one had recognized him as first. He left as a skinny guy who packed an insanely mean left and right hook, and came back packed in muscle and taller, with a confidence that few saw in gay guys in the south side. His muscles weren’t for show either, as rumors quickly spread that his hits were not only harder but quicker than ever.

Then he had opened up a gym for anyone who wasn’t gonna start trouble, and if you did start trouble, he took care of you real quick and efficiently. He had quirked a brow as Mickey stepped into the gym, but like he never questioned the local gun dealer being there, he wasn’t gonna question a milkovich being there as long as he paid. Mickey went about his business, taking out some of his burning anger on the punching bags, trying to put all the hatred and anger in his soul into those punches.

Mickey almost swung around and knocked (Y/N)s teeth out when the taller guy had placed his hand on Mickeys shoulder. “You’re standing all wrong, you’ll mess up your shoulders” he explained, his strong hands grabbing Mickeys arms and pulling him into the better pose.

Mickey wasn’t gonna ever admit that he felt warmth rise to his cheeks as (Y/N) grabbed him and moved him around, it was just cuz the guy was eyecandy around the south side. Few guys cared about their appearance around this part, so seeing a guy who actually bathed on the regular and walked around in tight tank tops always caught Mickeys attention. If Mickey wasn’t the type to deny himself so much, he might have seen how his appreciating stares were returned.

One night when Mickey showed up to the gym, a time where there were never anyone around but the owner, he had been stewing in anger. The punching bags just didn’t seem to be enough, even as Mickey cursed and made his knuckles bleed. (Y/N) had sauntered up in that tight tank top and a pair of sweats that left little to the imagination and goaded Mickey into a spar in the wrestling part of the gym.

In reality it was just some mats laid on the floor and against the walls, no way a place like this could afford an actually wresting ring, but it was good enough. Good enough for Mickey to charge at the guy, his normal south side approach foiled by (Y/N)s actual talent for fighting. Mickey only grew more and more angry the more he kept losing, even as his muscles ached and burned, even as he found himself pinned over and over against the mats.

Mickey growled at the smile on (Y/N)s lips, the guy had been smiling the entire time, and though he was sweating and breathing harder, it was in no way as much as Mickey himself. Even as Mickeys moves grew sloppy as he felt exhaustion creep up on him, his pride wouldn’t let him just give up or call quits.

(Y/N) must have felt some pity, as he finally let Mickey pin him, Mickey crouched above his head, pinning his shoulders with his legs and holding the taller man’s arms above his head. “Good job Mick, you finally got it” he laughed, looking almost too pleased as Mickey panted above him. “That deserves a reward, right?” he almost purred, and before Mickey could question it, (Y/N) had freed his hands and reached up towards the waistband on Mickeys pants.

Mickey choked on his breath as (Y/N) dragged his pants down, freeing Mickeys half hard length to the heated air of the gym. The sparring must have gotten the blood pumping in Mickeys system, and he shivered. On instinct alone Mickey almost jumped to his feet and spat some homophobic comment, but before he could warm lips wrapped around his tip and sucked him down, a broken gasp slipping from Mickeys lips at the action.

(Y/N)s hands gripped Mickeys hips as he lifted his torso to keep bopping his head, taking Mickey down his throat with skill one only got from repeating an action many times. Mickey gripped onto (Y/N)s hair as he thrust his hips with little to no rhythm, panting from the strain in his muscles and the pleasurable feeling as he grew fully hard, his toes curling in his shoes as he shivered.

Mickey groaned as he spilled down (Y/N)s throat, his muscles finally giving out, and if it wasn’t for (Y/N) catching him, he would have tumbled down onto the mats beneath them. Mickey didn’t even notice the murmured praise leaving the taller man, even as he tucked Mickeys spent length back into his pants or rubbed his sore muscles. Mickey didn’t even fully comprehend that he was pulled into what looked like a back room, or that he was placed on a comfortable sofa, or even that he dozed off.

It seemed that the energy that hadn’t been wrung out of him from the wrestling, had been sucked right out of him by the very man that had goaded him into said fight. (Y/N) gave a snort as he watched Mickey become dead to the world, leaving a water bottle beside him before leaving the office to go disinfect the mats. This might be the south side, but he was at least semi professional and serious about his business’s hygiene.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mickey milkovich #shameless #shameless us #Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich #mickey milkovich imagine #mickey milkovich headcanon #mickey milkovich x male reader #mickey milkovich x reader #shameless imagine #shameless headcanon #shameless x male reader #shameless x reader #shameless us imagine #shameless us headcanon #shameless us x male reader #shameless us x reader

[kookslastbutton]

Love's Remedy ༓ jjk (m) l ch. II

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 2,783

Warnings: angry koo, jealous koo, gym rat koo, thicc thighs koo, protective koo, kook checks his abs out, koo gets in a physical fight with an aggressive jerk that involves punching, name-calling (half pint, hermit crab, b*tch, Bambi, honeysuckle, kookie), mention of blood (minor), jk is very cute and determined towards oc, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), oc has poor self-esteem, cussing, bit of crying...sorry lot of warnings this chapter

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: Yes, I'm aware this chapter is short, still Jungkook is shirtless in half of this and I am not sorry. This chapter also gets heavy but I hope you enjoy! 💞

<< ch. I ༓ ch. II >> | series masterlist

A week passes since the frat party and Jungkook hears nothing from you. He's reluctant to accept that you've likely already deleted his number but why else would you be radio silent? Why would someone like you ever be interested in a shy little nerd like him?

He's disappointed but when he gave you his number, it's not like he was expecting anything in return.

Well, he can’t stay hung up on you forever—he'll give you one more week. In the meantime, it’s 5 p.m and he’s off to do his daily lifting at the gym. He read somewhere online that evening is better for building strength, and that is exactly what he intends to do.

With a basic black tank top and gym shorts on, Jungkook scans the expanse of the facility. The place isn’t too crowded being that it’s nearly dinner time but it’s still moderate. He’s hoping Jackson will join him soon, considering they’re buddies now because isn’t that what guy friends do? Workout together?

When he makes his way to the weight room he quickly finds it's packed with guys double his size. Half of them look like they're upperclassmen while the other half is split between first-years like him and a small handful of women. He sheepishly strolls over to an empty pull-up bar, deciding to start with chin lifts.

Jungkook sets his water bottle on the ground, reaches for the handle, and lifts his body up until his chin is level with the bar, legs swing in the air slightly. He then extends his arms back out. The burn in his biceps feels good. He repeats the motion a few more times but has to stop when he hits six.

He takes a big swig of his water, already sweating evident from the tank top sticking to his back. The coolness of the water helps but between his own sweat and the sweat of others around him, Jungkook is tempted to throw his shirt off. Most of the men in the room aren’t wearing any more than shorts anyway so why can’t he?

Jungkook grasps the edges of his tank, pulling it up a little. How did his abs look? Were they good enough to show off? He’s working out diligently since 14 but he was still on the smaller side compared to the rest of his peers.

The mirror to his left helps him get a better look so he shifts his body over. When he does he catches a slight glimpse of a familiar face in the top right corner. Jungkook instantly drops his shirt, whipping his head around.

What were you doing in the weight room? And with some buff guy twice his size closely behind you? All he’s doing is staring at your ass in those tight purple shorts which so happens to have a matching crop top.

Jungkook scowls at the sight.

When you take a seat at one of the bench presses a couple of feet away, his eyes widen. The guy you came with stands behind your head as you lean back. He helps you set the barbell. It’s too far for Jungkook to hear what he’s telling you but he’s convinced it’s nothing good. Whoever this guy is he won’t stop grinning, and you’re grinning back!

You said you don’t do relationships. You said you'd think about going out with him. You said a lot of things but here you are with some guy that looks an awful lot like a boyfriend, how disgusting…

Fuck it.

Jungkook turns his eyes away from you, yanks his tank off, and grabs the pull-up bar again. He’s gonna knock ten of these out in one set.

Shoulder-width apart, he keeps a steady pace though he makes sure to take deep breaths to prolong his stamina. His eyes fixate on the back wall of the weight room to avoid you and your supposedly new boo from getting in his head.

Apparently, you just didn’t want him. It’s fine. Jungkook exhales. It’s all fine.

After three sets of chin-ups, Jungkook releases himself from the bar to check his phone. He takes another glug of his water too.

Jackson: hey Kook, I was planning to join you at the gym today but I got my family in town tonight. Man, it’s only been a week….can you believe they’re here to visit already?

Jungkook: Wow, all I’ve gotten from my family is a short text saying good luck. They must miss you a lot but yeah, it’s no problem. We can work out another time?

Jackson: You got it bro. Thank you for understanding 🙏🏼 Also, there’s a second thing 😬

Jungkook: ??

Jackson: I might have told my parents about you so are you free to get lunch with us tomorrow? My parents want to meet you. Our treat.

Jungkook: Really? Okay yeah. I’d love to meet them. Time?

Jackson: We don’t know yet but likely 1pm if that���s okay?

Jungkook: Sure, I’ll just be studying so. Text me when you know.

Jackson: I will. How’s the gym?

Jungkook hovers his thumbs over the keyboard. When he glances up to think, he’s reminded of your lingering presence. You’re no longer bench pressing anymore but instead doing a set of bent-over dumbbell rolls. With the way you’re torso’s angled, anyone who’s anyone has a direct view of your rear end. Any decent person would pay it no mind but that same douchebag next to you keeps gawking.

“It’s not meant to be a fucking sex position,” Jungkook mutters and types out a response. “Fucker.”

He makes his way to the black punching bag on the other side of the room, passing a strong glare at that young man as he nears the two of you. He doesn’t know his name but he’d really like to go over there and knee him in the balls. His eyes flicker at you for a moment, so pretty.

“The hell are you staring at my girl for half-pint?” The man calls Jungkook out in an aggressive stance. “Keep your eyes in front before I fuck you up.”

Frazzled, Jungkook scurries to move past the both of you with his head down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything.” He doesn’t get three steps before a solid form blocks his path.

“Who are you apologizing to? Your feet? Look me in the damn eye when you talk to me.”

“Jun-ho stop,” you come up beside the man, tugging at his arm. He yanks himself out of the grasp, however, jolting your body back. You nearly lose your balance.

“I’m just trying to teach this little hermit crab what happens when you stare at another man’s woman, baby.”

Jungkook clenches his fists as you struggle to re-stabilize yourself. You should not be with this asshole. He doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t deserve to be calling you his baby. Who the fuck does he think he is shoving a woman like that.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit. “I’m not your woman. Now leave Jungkook alone. He doesn’t need this.”

Jun-ho gives you a cocky smirk. “Oh? So he’s Jungkook huh? You know him too. You fucking him behind my back or something?” He takes a step towards you. Jungkook lunges forward seeing your obvious discomfort.

“Don’t touch her!” Jungkook stands between you and Jun-ho. He’s shaking so badly but he doesn’t budge. “Take another step and I’ll–I’ll–“

“You’ll pound me in the ground? You and what army? You can’t even talk.” He snorts and moves to toss Jungkook to the side. “Get out of my way.”

Jungkook feels the back of his neck heat with rage, his ears red and burning. There’s no way in hell he’s letting Jun-ho get to you.

“She told you to stop, so why don’t you just–fuck off!” Jungkook shoves Jun-ho back with as much force as he can. His body’s not built and his arm muscles aren’t as ripped but he’s got some big fucking thighs that manage to anchor him to the ground.

“You shit.” Jun-ho grits his teeth and punches Jungkook straight in the gut. Jungkook doubles over in agony. His hand clutches over his abdomen as he groans. You hurry in front of him but you’re thrown to the side by a pair of large hands. “Move bitch,” Jun-ho snaps, eyes bolstered on the smaller man.

“Hey, what the hell is going on over here?” The manager of the gym rushes over to the three of you. He grabs Jungkook and offers him support. “You can’t be doing this young man. You need to leave now.”

Jun-ho shakes his head. “Count yourself lucky this time Jungkook. Could have been a lot worse if it weren’t for this old man getting in the way.” He stares at the manager and then at you. “Come on __.”

“You’re fucking nuts if you think I’m coming with you. I’m staying with Jungkook.”

“No, you’re fucking not.” Jun-ho reaches for your arm until his head is knocked backward by a clean, punch to his jaw. “Fuck! You Fuck!” He holds his jaw, stumbling into a rack of dumbbells behind him.

Jungkook’s knuckles bleed as he holds his own wrist. He winces at the sharp throbbing and stinging from the punch. “Okay no more, no more,” the manager anxiously darts his eyes back and forth between him and Jun-ho. “I want you all out of my facility this instance.”

After being thrown out of the gym, Jungkook returns to his dorm room. He insists he takes care of his injury himself but it doesn’t sit well with you so you follow him.

“I’m so sorry about this Jungkook. Jun-ho’s a bastard.” You finish wrapping his knuckles in the elastic bandage then lean forward to place your hands on his shoulders. “Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”

Jungkook holds your pleading stare from his seated position. Your soft hands are simultaneously soothing and unsettling. He’s not mad at you for what happened at all. But seeing you with a jerk like Jun-ho when you rejected him, someone who’d never treat his girl like a piece of trash causes all kinds of knots inside him.

“You’re not going to see him again right? Because I can’t make that promise if you do.” His voice is low, nervous that you'll say yes.

Jungkook might not have personal relationship experience but he's witnessed his share of unhealthy relationship dynamics more times he'd like to count.

“Jungkook…” You muster up the best reassuring smile you can and tuck a few loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Nothing's going to happen between me and Jun-ho anymore. We weren't anything serious. But you care too much about me, I’m not worth the trouble.”

Hearing this, he reaches a hand up to close over yours. “Please don’t say that. Everyone deserves to be cared for and as long as I can help it, I’ll be the first to do it.” His big, doting eyes search into yours. "And good, don't go back to him __. He's not the type of man you need."

"And what type of man do I need Bambi?" You stroke his puffy cheeks and quirk your head to the side inquisitively. Jungkook flinches at the touch.

"Bambi?"

"You didn't like it when I called you baby so, had to come up with something else."

"But." There's that pout again. Jungkook doesn't like being called a baby but when someone reaching this level of adorable, its so hard to shake. "But I just knocked a bitch out for you. How can you keep calling me baby names?"

The chuckle that leaves your lips is heaven to Jungkook's ears. "Aww Jungkook," you coo. "It's 'cause you're a little honeysuckle. So sweet to the taste." His ears perk up at that, gnawing on his bottom lip. "But if you want me to call you something else that might take some more time for me to figure out. Until then do tell me, what do I need?"

"Someone that'll protect you."

"Mhm, okay but—"

"Emotionally, physically, and mentally." Jungkook lists out loud. "That means someone to stand up for you, support you in the ways you need. Someone to help keep losers like Jun-ho out who only look out for themselves." He pauses, contemplating thoughtfully. "You need someone you can trust too. When you're sick you'll be taken care of and he'll never ever cheat on you. Even if you fight, he'll always stick by your side. You'll watch movies together, cuddle under the covers, and stargaze on summer nights. He'll also peel perilla leaves for you and love you until sunrise. Finally, when the time's right he'll ask to marry you, only if you want, of course."

Jungkook waits for you to give him a reply, a little breathless. He notices the distance between you and him somehow got larger. You're now about two feet away from him when you were only mere inches before.

"I'm sorry." He lowers his head. "It's silly I know. Everyone tells me I'm some kind of dreamer boy, just a hopeless romantic."

"It's not silly Jungkook." You soften your expression. "It's a beautiful idea and somewhere out there will gladly share those things with you. You'll live a full life together having all those wonderful experiences."

"Wanna have them with you though." His eyes flicker up at you. "I really like you __."

Oh no, no no no. You push down the pressure building from inside you. "No, I can't. I'm sorry Bambi, I want to but you don't know me." A small tear spills out of the corner of your eye. "I'm not able to....I can't love you like that."

Jungkook gets up from his chair and reaches for your trembling hand. You're tempted to pull back if it weren't for the fact that your hand feels warm in his.

"I can," he says. "I can love you if you let me."

You shake your head, and another hot tear rolls down your face. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm even crying." You quickly wipe your wet cheeks.

"You don't always need a reason. Sometimes it just happens and that's okay. I cry all the time when I'm by myself." Jungkook grabs your other hand slowly. "Just wanna be here for you."

You blink back the remaining tears welling in your eyes. You're embarrassed this is happening at all. Jungkook is the sweetest, most kind-hearted, and most selfless person you know. He shouldn't have to be dealing with any of this.

"If we can't go out, is it okay that we are friends?"

"I don't want to do that to you Kookie."

"Hey, I like that one," he says with a lifted voice.

"You do? I didn't even think about it like the others."

"You were thinking about me?" He bounces in the air a little, at least that's what it looks like to you by the sudden rush of energy Jungkook responds with. He likes knowing you've been paying attention to him, even if only a smidge.

You dart your eyes past him, fingers curling in his hand. "Well I mean..." Jungkook waits intently. "I guess...yes, some."

"Oh please __, please let me take you out. We don't even have to call it a date."

"You're too persistent, you know that?"

"But is it working?"

"I'm not ready yet Jungkook." His shoulders slouch and he opens his mouth to say something though you continue before he can get anything out. "To give you an answer. I'm not ready to give you an answer yet is what I'm trying to say."

"Well, that's okay. You wanna think about it longer? We can four years until graduation."

"You're such a goof, you'd wait that long for an answer?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "No, I'd wait that long for you." He pauses. "Okay maybe I have been watching one too many Korean dramas. Even I threw up in my mouth a little."

Too both share a laugh, this is the weirdest, emotionally exhausting day ever. "Thank you for what you did today with Jung-ho. And for trying to comfort me. Will you possibly be able to wait another week? If it's too long you can tell me. I've made you wait long enough."

"A week from now, let's meet up okay? Or call at least. Even if it's a no, I don't want this to be the last time I get to see or hear you."

"Okay." You nod. "I promise."

And that was the end of that night, as Jungkook walks you to your dorm soon after. It was getting dark out after all.

A/N: tysm for reading! Lmk what you think and if you wan to be tagged comment/ask 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@hoseokteardrop

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #fic:lovesremedyonfire #kookslastbutton

[sturniolos-blog]

Can you do a dad Matt story but when his daughter is like older (10-13)

In trouble - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - swearing, kissing, angst, arguing

—————————

12:34pm

"Sure, i'll come pick her up as soon as possible." I put a fake happy tone on my voice as the principle of my 12 daughter Estrella's school tells me i need to come pick her up because she punched a girl in the face.

The principle hangs up the phone as i sigh, tapping my pen twice before grabbing my papers and stacking them on my computer, i worked in an office as a journalist, luckily i already have what i need for my new article im producing.

"Leaving already?" My best friend at the office, Cassidy, asks me.

I nod, "Estrella." I say.

Her eyes widen, "Again? She's been getting in trouble a lot lately, she doing okay?" Cassidy takes a sip of her coffee as she asks.

I shrug, "I honestly don't know. Matt's been working a lot lately, he’s barely home lately and every time he's home we argue, which is probably why she's been acting up. It's not like i have time to punish her with work. And she seems perfectly okay with me taking her phone away, she stays in her room." I rant, i let out a huff.

"Alright, i gotta go, bye Cass." I smile.

"Bye babe, let me know how it goes." She smiles back at me.

—————————

12:48pm

I walk in the schools office, seeing Estrella looking down as she holds an ice pack on her right hand knuckles. I then walk in the principles office.

"Mrs. Sturniolo! Please, have a seat." Ms. Patterson, the principle offers.

I smile, "Hi, uh thanks.." I clear my throat as i take a seat.

Ms. Patterson flashes a smile at me, "So you know why you're here, we spoke on the phone, but i just wanted to give you a run down of what Estrella told me, if that's okay with you?" Ms. Patterson asks as she picks up a paper with notes on it.

I let out a breath and nod.

Ms. Patterson clears her throat, "Right, so when Estrella punched Gia, she said it was because she made fun of her for being stupid, which is obviously not okay, and should've never happened but at this school we do not respond in violence, and this has been the third offense in three weeks with something physical, i'm sorry to say but next time Estrella is looking at suspension or even expulsion." Ms. Patterson tells me.

I sigh and rub my forehead, "But this girl gia, she came at my daughters intellect, shouldn't that have been addressed?" I defend Ella.

Ms. Patterson nods, "Of course, and it was-"

"Was it? Does Gia also have a week of detention like my daughter or..." I trail off, waiting for the principle to speak.

Ms. Patterson lets out a dry cough but shakes her head. "Uh.. no, the insult was overruled once Estrella put her hands on Gia."

I nod, "Right, but if Estrella didn't start a fight, then the teachers would have never known about Gia insulting her, am i right?"

Ms. Patterson furrows her eyebrows, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sturniolo. I'm not following."

I shrug, "Would Gia have gotten in trouble in the first place for insulting my daughter if Estrella didn't react the way she did or would it have just been ruled off?"

"Uh- well i'm sure a teacher would have heard Gia say some-"

I cut Ms. Patterson off, "And if a teacher didn't?" I ask.

Ms. Patterson stays silent.

"Yeah, right. My daughter would have been screwed either way, sorry but we are done here. Thank you for trying but i am always going to defend my daughter. I do apologize and i hope Gia's nose gets better." I say, standing up and leaving the room.

As i leave the office i see Estrella look up at me.

"Not a word and in the car, now." I demand, pointing at her to walk first.

Estrella goes to speak, "Bu-"

I cut her off, "Not a word."

—————————

1:12pm

We walk in the house and Ella takes off her shoes, she then goes to walk upstairs.

"Where do you think you're going? I've let it slide the past two times because i've been busy but lucky you i finished all my work today so we are going to have a nice long chat. Sit down, Estrella." I cross my arms as i look at her.

She looks at me and stands on the second stair, not moving.

"Estrella Leylani Sturniolo!" I yell.

Estrella jumps as i raise my voice, i was never the parent to yell at her, so that must of scared her.

I clear my throat, "Please sit down, Estrella." My tone lowering as she comes and sits down on the couch.

"You wanna tell me what's going on?" I ask as i stand in front of her.

She shrugs and bites her nails, habit she got from Matt.

"You're going to speak to me." I say but she stays silent. "Now!" I yell.

"Mom, what!?" She yells at me.

I bite my lip and nod, letting out a scoff.

"What's going on with you? Punching a girl in the face? This is your third physical altercation in three weeks! You're going to get expelled, Ella! Do you even care anymore!? You've gotten in more trouble in school then your father and I ever have!" I tell her.

"No, I don't care! I hate school and i hope every time Gia gets a bloody nose she thinks of me!" Estrella uncrosses her arms.

I let out a huff, "Just wait until i call your father. I was gonna give you a chance to explain yourself but you ruined it."

"Go ahead call dad! Maybe he'll actually come home for once!" Estrella stands up now.

I groan in frustration, "God, ella, what are you talking about?!" I scoff.

"Dad is barely home! And when he is all you guys do is argue! I- i thought maybe that if i got in trouble you guys would stop arguing a-and he would come home- and we could be a family again but clearly that's not gonna happen so forget it." Estrella says, running upstairs, i hear her door slam shut.

I sniffle and wipes my eyes, taking my phone out of my pocket and calling Matt.

The phone rings three times before he answers, "Hey, y/n. I'm kind of busy right now can i call you lat-"

I cut him off, "It's Ella. Can you come home, please?" My voice cracks.

"W-what? What's wrong? Is she okay?" Matt asks.

"C-can you just come home?" I ask, my voice evident that i'm on the verge of tears.

"Okay, i'm on my way, baby. Take breaths for me, sweetheart." He says softly, the most civil we've been in a while.

I take a breath like Matt said. "Okay, I love you." I say, almost in a whisper. The last time we said i love you was like two weeks ago.

I hear Matt chuckle, "I love you too, baby. Forever and always." Matt says before hanging up, presumably on his way now.

—————————

1:38pm

I was pacing in the living room, picking at my earlobe as i think of every time i went wrong.

The front door opens and i see Matt walk in, he was wearing a black t shirt, black jean jacket and black cargos.

“What took you so long?” I snap, probably shouldn’t have been my first move.

“Accident on the highway.” He replies, now taking his shoes off and setting his keys down.

“What happened?” He walks towards me.

I give him the write up that Estrella got today.

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed as he reads the paper, him opening his mouth to speak. “Isn’t this her th-”

“-Third time. Yes.” I confirm, nodding as i cross my arms.

Matt lets out a frustrated sigh, handing me back the paper and starting to walk upstairs.

“Matt wait,” I grab his hand.

“Estrella told me the only reason she got in trouble today was because she wanted you to finally come home, and for us to stop arguing.” I tell him.

He looks up at me, his look was upsetting, almost guilty. “What?”

I nod, “She’s been struggling and we haven’t known about it.”

He lets out a breath, him now clearly upset.

“We can call her down here to talk.” I suggest, playing with my fingers.

Matt rubs his stubble and nods, “Okay.”

“Estrella!? Come down here please!” I call out.

I hear her room door open and watch as she walks downstairs. Her eyes flicker between Matt and I and she lets out a huff.

I give her a sad smile, “Sit down, please.” I motion towards the couch.

She looks at me, not moving, like she had done before Matt got home.

“You can listen to your mother, Estrella.” Matt chimes in.

She scratched her head before walking and sitting on the couch, crossing her arms and leaning back.

Matt takes a seat next to her while i stay standing.

“What’s going on, Ella? Mom told me you got in trouble again.” Matt starts, looking at Ella.

Ella bites her lip and shrugs, bringing her nails up to her mouth to bite her nails.

I shake my head, “Tell him what you told me, El.” I say as Matt takes Estrella’s hand out of her mouth.

“You guys argue too much.” Ella says, her eyes flickering over to Matt as she speaks again, “And you’re never home anymore, dad. I miss you. A-and our family.” She says, her voice was quiet but determined to get her point through.

Matt nods, taking in a breath. “Your mother and I are perfectly fine, Ella. We argue yeah, but it’s not anything that deep, we love each other so much, just like we love you so much. And i’ve been working a lot with your uncles, but i can take some time off from now on, would that be okay with you?” He looks at ella, she smiles and nods.

Matt chuckles, “Great. No more getting in trouble, i’m only letting it slide because i know you don’t mean it.” Matt says.

She looks down and nods before Matt brings her into a hug, she hugs back. “Thanks dad..” She whispers against his chest.

He kisses her forehead. “Of course, baby.” He whispers back.

Ella gets up and looks at me, “I’m sorry for being rude, mom.. i don’t mean it, i pinky promise.” She holds her pinky out, i smile, that was a habit she got from me.

I interlock pinkies with her, “It’s okay, my love.” I smile before bringing her in for a hug.

She then goes back upstairs.

Matt stands up and looks at me. “I’m sorry i haven’t been home, and that i’ve been a bad father and husband.” He apologizes.

I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck, “You’re an amazing husband and an even better father. I argue back all the time too. So as long as we work together we will stop, for ella.”

Matt nods, “For ella.” He then leans in and kisses me.

—————————

Took me too long to write and idk i think my writing has been getting way worse but i hope you guys like this !

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #spotify #matt sturniolo x you

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: this has just been sat in the vaults for a month and i'm just in eren brainrot mode rn so here she is😁 also, i just imagined rapper!eren being like central cee. so just imagine him wearing a nike tech in every interaction lol.

cw: fingering, pnv, infidelity, mentions of breeding, finger sucking, eren calls reader; 'ma', 'my girl', 'baby', and i don't cosign homewrecking be respectful y'all😭

cw: 4590...

rapper!eren who tells you it was never meant to go this far, because it truly wasn't. it all started because you had similar music taste, so you understood the influence of his favourite artists (which happened to be your favourite artists) on his music.

you first met rapper! eren when you bumped into one another at the record store. he was a popular up and coming artist, so you somewhat recognised him but you couldn't pinpoint where from. you had been in the same section of the shop and he liked your outfit, thought you had great taste and, when you turned around, he saw that you were bad. so he sparked up a conversation with you. he was used to people pretending they didn’t know who he was just to get into his inner circle but, upon further conversation, he could tell that you really barely had any idea who he was. and, initially, that was a punch to his ego (because damn his music isn’t reaching baddies like that??), but he just decided it was for the best.

rapper!eren who called you after you gave him your number, which you found quite interesting because you barely knew each other and he was calling you before even texting you?? but you answered, and conversations about anything and everything meant that when you looked up from the doodle you had been focused on while talking to him, the small clock hand had moved forwards three numbers. saying you were ‘surprised’ by his depth makes it seem as though you expected him to be an idiot, but you were just taken aback by the way that every other word he said to you was an echo of the thoughts you had never gotten the chance to shout out into the world.

rapper!eren whose words had your cheeks heating up as they begun to ache from smiling at his flirtatious tone. honeyed syllables flowed into your ears, only just to run back out, slowly caressing your skin on its way down to the space between your legs. though not necessarily obscene, rapper!eren‘s words dirtied the scenes running in your mind, painting a packed gallery of lude images you wanted him to paint all over your body.

“did you just giggle?”, he chuckled over the phone, and you shook your head furiously as if he could see you.

“what? no!”, you sat up on your bed, the defence on your features evident to both you and the walls surrounding you. he wasn’t wrong, you did giggle. but you wouldn’t let him hear that admission. it felt slightly ridiculous, because you had only known him for a few weeks, but whenever you saw the name ’eren<;3’ appear on your phone, the muscle between your ribs would begin a high intensity workout. the effects manifesting themselves in the endorphins flying through your body, and the way he just made you feel…giddy.

calls started off as being once every few days. then it was once a day. then his name was painting your phone screen twice a day. then it became a few times a day; he would call you when he woke up, and you would try your best to not lose it over his morning voice, especially when he said shit like:

”i wish i could see you right now, i feel like you look cute in the morning. nah? i don’t believe that”.

you would call him on your commute, then you’d eat dinner together over facetime. then, once the sun set, every step in your night-time routine would be interrupted by rapper!eren’s inquisitons about literally everything: ”what’s that for?”, ”what does that do?”, ”your skin is perfect you don’t need all that.” and, soon, the texts began sprinkling themselves in between those calls; ’good morning’ texts, ’how’s your day goin?’ texts, ’show me your fit’ texts, ’facetime?’ texts, and ’you got time to call?’ texts.

then two, or so, months passed and you came to find out why the beginning of your relationship was mainly just calls: so it couldn’t be traced back to him. though he had your contact saved, he could always just delete your call logs, and you would have no way of proving that you actually spoke. this revelation struck you shortly after a tiktok came up on your foryoupage showing someone talking about rapper!eren and his rumoured girlfriend. said ‘rumoured’ girlfriend who really just looked like his actual girlfriend with the way his arm was slung around her shoulder, her hand reaching up to hold his, as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. as soon as rapper!eren noticed the cameras, he peeled himself off of her and put his hands in his joggers. and, as pissed as you were, you could admit that the girl was cute; standing shorter than him, with short brown hair.

rapper!eren whose eyebrows met to screw in frustration at his calls and texts going unanswered. a part of him grew unreasonably pissed off when he kept calling you and kept getting sent to voicemail. at first, he assumed you were just busy so he just postponed his call because he knew what time you usually ate dinner, meaning he knew when you usually called him. but to make sure you weren’t still busy, he texted you and again, it was just ‘read’.

“what the fuck?”, he whispered at his phone screen as he sat in the back of the black suv. no matter what he tried, rapper!eren got no response and he didn’t know why that cut him so deep. he was inured to female attention so your replacement was nothing more than a dm away. but…he didn’t want to replace you. talking to you had become so pivotal to his day-to-day routine and he didn’t like that being taken away from him without him having a say. but after three days of dodging his calls, you finally texted him.

…: you have a gf?

rapper!eren: thats what this shit was about y/n?

…: this shit?? nigga you have a girlfriend tf you mean this shit??

rapper!eren: its more complicated than that

…: is it???

…: she’s either your gf or she isn’t how’s that complicated?

rapper!eren: dw abt it

rapper!eren: come to my studio tonite. got smth i wanna run by you

…: huh??

read.

rapper!eren who finally responded a few hours after that conversation. but, instead of the explanation you were looking for, you got sent an address and a message telling you that someone was on their way to come pick you up. you quickly texted rapper!eren your address, then you had just half an hour to get ready. had this been a week ago, you would’ve done a bit more; matching underwear and all. but instead, you just decided to keep it cute but simple—both your outfit, and your makeup.

you got a text telling you to make your way outside and when you did, you were met with a black suv with tinted windows. as weird as it looked, the driver asking for your name reassured you and you got in. the drive to the address was silent. it was just you and the driver in there, and he didn’t even spare you a glance once you got in the car, so you were just left with your thoughts. and they made it a very gruelling 30 minute journey. once you arrived at the building, the driver took you to the door, where you were met with rapper!eren‘s manager. that’s when you found out that the building was where rapper!eren‘s studio was.

rapper!eren who sat alone behind a translucent door, looking down at his phone until his manager opened the door. you hadn’t seen him in person since the first time you met and, knowing what you now knew, your heart was at the pit of your stomach. so your first few moments there were spent stood, abashedly, at the door. an unreadable smirk braced his face at your appearance, before he made his way to hug you. being polite, you hugged him back. and those nasty wasps in your stomach were mixing with butterflies. you hated it to say it, but you were attracted to rapper!eren and the strong smell of his aftershave was enough to drive the butterflies in your stomach to migrate to the space between your legs. but, at some point, their wings would be clipped by the fact that the man had a girlfriend.

rapper!eren who noticed you looking a little skittish, and moved to stroke your arm to calm you down but you just looked at him blankly so he moved away. the weird feeling in your stomach had yet to go away, and it only grew once you looked around and saw that the only lights on were red LED lights, and a few candles placed on random tables.

“you drink?”, rapper! eren picked up a bottle of expensive looking red wine and two big wine glasses.

“not with men who have girlfriends, no.”, you quipped, taking your hoodie off, and putting it on the sofa.

rapper! eren who really did call you there to ask you about something because he had made a new song, and he wanted to see how you liked it. no one else knew what his vision was but, having similar music taste, he knew you would. but the second your hoodie came off, his intentions wavered. at that very moment, he could feel the very thing he had been trying to bury for the past few days, making his dick twitch in his joggers. making it infinitely harder to ignore—if he even wanted to do that anymore.

rapper! eren whose eyes glimmered at the sight of you thoroughly enjoying his song, even giving him real feedback that he knew would make the song better. you were sat by his laptop and the way your knees would touch whenever you moved to the beat did not go neglected. despite your prior apprehensions, he had poured you both some red wine, and you were slowly making your way through your glasses. mid-conversation, he caught you staring at his chains. especially the pendant with his name on it; bussed down and twinkling even under the minimal lighting.

“you like ‘em?”, he looked down at his chest, smirking, and you nodded at him.

“are they heavy?”, you giggled. that chain was thick but the pendant on it looked like it had some weight on it too.

rapper! eren‘s answer wasn’t verbal, instead he just reached behind his neck and took it off, holding it toward you,

“try it on”, he said, quietly and you shook your head. the man had a girlfriend why was he drinking with you, and asking you to put his chain on??

“nah, bro, that’s too far. you’ve got a gir—”, you began, and rapper! eren rolled his eyes as he got up from his chair,

“first off, she’s not here. second, don’t call me ‘bro’. that’s what my boys call me.”, he stood, looking down at you, obviously waiting for you to stand up. your guilt only grew, to subside again, as you got up. and then he stepped closer. you were sat pretty close before, but now the tips of your shoes were meeting. then he leaned forward and reached behind you to put his chain on you. once it hung around your neck, you got the answer to your question; it was heavy.

lost in observation, you hadn’t even realised the way rapper! eren‘s hands hadn’t left your body, they had just changed locations. they moved from the back of your neck, to your cheeks where he held you to face him. fuck. this man was fine. yes, you felt bad but she was purring. you didn’t know his girl so what loyalties did you have to her? and plus, who are you to judge other people’s relationships? maybe she’s okay with him cheating…

you knew damn well you were just being selfish, but that didn’t stop you from moaning into rapper! eren‘s mouth once his lips collided with yours. the way the baby, blue shimmer of the diamonds bounced off the gloss on your lips made them impossible to ignore. they were just asking for rapper! eren to mess them up, and replace the sheen with the one provided by his saliva. this wasn’t the first time he had cheated on his girlfriend; he was surrounded by beautiful women who wanted him every single day, and he had the self control of a dog who hadn’t been fed in weeks. but this time felt like more than just kissing, rapper! eren didn’t want anyone else to have you. and he hadn’t realised that until he saw you with his name shining around your neck.

the slow, fervent kiss grew haste when rapper! eren‘s hands started moving to grip anything he could through your dress. soon, you were straddling him on the black leather sofa, slowly grinding on him as he pushed you down onto the tent forming in his grey nike tech. naturally, your dress began to hike up your body, and rapper! eren aided its trek by pulling it up so the end of the dress was lightly pecking the top of your black lace thong. it was at this point that rapper! eren knew that there was no going back for him; if he didn’t fuck you now, he would be dreaming about it until he did.

his lips did not leave you once—moving from your own to your cheeks, jaw, neck, chest. his hand laid on your clothed tit, the other being pulled out from under your dress, and quickly covered by his swollen pink lips. the way his tongue swirled around your nipple had you throwing your head back, your hips not stopping once. veins that once transported blood became the primary vehicle for the pleasure he was providing you, you hadn’t even noticed his hand moving to the space between your legs. slipping your thong aside, he began rubbing circles on your clit.

“’ren, p-please”, you whined, breathlessly. thoughts weren’t connecting properly anymore, so you didn’t even know what you were pleading for. you just felt the need to say something.

“w-wait, please”, you breathed out, and he hummed against whatever skin he was kissing at that point, you really didn’t know anymore. your entire body was on fire, so it all just felt like one big sensation.

“i am waiting, ma”, rapper! eren cooed, “there’s a lot more i wanna be doing right now.”, he nipped your other breast that he had alternated to at some point, and you knew he would leave a mark. and that’s exactly what he wanted.

a few minutes passed before rapper! eren inserted his middle and ring finger inside you. shivers ran a marathon all over your body as his bussed down star ring grazed your thigh, while he pumped his tattooed digits in and out of you. all the while, rapper! eren‘s eyes never left your face; the glistering jades illuminated every feature on you—your moistened pert nipples, your bleary gaze, and your parted lips. your drool mixing with his saliva still on them.

it didn’t take long for you to cum all over his fingers, trembling and cantillating his name into the space around the both of you. no part of your body could handle that wave once it washed over you, the tide pulling your forehead onto his chest, that was heaving almost as deeply as yours was. you hadn’t done much, but rapper! eren was so turned on by the fact that he was making you feel good. but even knowing that, his fingers didn’t relent.

once you were able to lift your heavy eyelids, and open your eyes, you saw a space grey patch on rapper! eren ‘s light grey tech, and that aroused a small panic in your stomach.

“’ren, s-stop”, you began, and as soon as that word left your mouth, his fingers stilled. a billion thoughts raced through his mind; maybe you’d changed your mind, maybe it didn’t feel good anymore. but when he found out that it was just because you didn’t want to get his tech wet, he chortled at how cute you were, and stroked your teary cheek with the hand that wasn’t pumping in and out of you again.

“you think i care if people know how wet my girl gets when she’s with me?”, he spoke onto the skin on your neck. fuck. you hated how good it felt to be called that, but you couldn’t stop the way you clenched around his fingers at that nickname. the same nickname that belonged to another woman.

“you like that? me calling you ‘my girl’?”, rapper! eren teased, lifting your chin when you tried to evade eye contact, “you want me to fuck you with my chain ‘round your neck? make you mine for real?”, his hand was wrapped around the top of your neck to hold your chin in place, and you just nodded furiously. fighting your need for him was futile, so you would give in now and regret this later.

confirmation received, rapper! eren picked you up and placed you on the sofa on your back, lips still glued on your neck. it wasn’t until he paused momentarily to take off his hoodie and shirt that you realised where things were going and panic returned. you placed your manicured fingers flat on his chest, providing a bit of resistance as your head shook slightly. but you didn’t say anything, simply hoping the look in your eyes would communicate everything your mouth couldn’t.

“your girlfriend”, you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. and rapper! eren moved closer to your face, meeting your lips. then he spoke against them,

“tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll stop”, he told you sincerely and you stammered, words failing you once again. or, really, you failing yourself because there were no words you could string together to hide the way you wanted needed this man to fuck you until you started crying. you’d heard the stories, you’d heard the song lyrics, and there was no smoke without fire. so you wrapped yourself up in a fire blanket and walked straight into the blazing heat. you shook your head at him, and reached for the bulge poking you in your stomach. and he smiled down at you before kissing you again and pulling back to get condoms from a drawer next to the sofa.

rapper!eren whose mind could barely grasp the concept of anything that wasn’t how tight you would feel around him. at this point in time, he didn’t know where he was anymore, nor did he care. the faint sounds of people talking in the hallways outside his studio were hushed static compared to the soft whines escaping your lips. you were desperate; this man had thrown a lasso around you, pulled you into his orbit, and then was just tangling you in front of himself. almost as if he was teasing himself—placing you in front of his face, legs wide open, yet not doing anything to close the faucet responsible for his leaking, throbbing, pink tip. but only rapper!eren knew that the reason for his eyes sprinting across your body, unbothered by the finish line, was because he didn’t know where to start with you. he had stripped you of your dress; he didn’t plan on doing so originally, but he needed to see your tits bounce as he fucked you so it had to come off. but now that you were whining underneath him—spit sliding down the corners of your mouth, making its way down onto the sides of your neck as you sucked on his tatted fingers, eyes locked with his own, he didn’t know what to do with you. your eyes had rendered him paralysed; yes, he may have been on top of you, but you were in control. He was on his knees for you, literally! he was on his knees on the sofa, with his legs caging one of your own.

rapper!eren who, as mesmerised as he was, remembered that he couldn’t just gawk at you forever so he positioned himself at your entrance. looking at you before he put it in, he saw a smirk painted on your face,

“nervous?”, you teased, and he scoffed at you. all it took was for his tip to softly poke your entrance, for you to cry out his name. if he was in his right mind, he might’ve given you shit for how quickly you were eating your own words. but all he could think about was how he hadn’t even done anything and you were already falling apart underneath him.

“fuck.”, he breathed out as he looked at his dick, still visible between your legs.

rapper!eren was a very sought after man, women wanting him did not surprise him. but you moaned his name like you needed him. like you were flirting with the brink of insanity every single second his dick wasn’t deep in your guts. and, rapper!eren may have been a very unloyal man, but he was very possessive. and there was nothing he hated more than people fucking with what’s his. so he would rip you from the hands of insanity, and fuck you until the afterglow was so prominent that everyone would know to go nowhere near you.

“just wait for me, baby, yeah? I’m right here”.

rapper!eren who lets out a deep sigh as soon as he starts pushing himself inside you, his eyeballs exploring the back of their sockets when he felt how tight you were. he had been intent on watching you take him in, inch by inch (all 8 of them), as he sheathed himself into you. but how wet you were was making him delirious. it felt like you were tightening around him with every half an inch that you took of him. probably because you were. everything was hitting you all at once, and your body was just reacting without even consolting you. it was how sexy he was, the sound of his heavy breathing, low moans hitting your ear. bitch it felt like you were doing the damn tiktok kegel exercises.

from what you had barely seen earlier through your drenched eyelashes, you knew that there would be a lot of rapper!eren to take in. but it seemed like the man was just never ending. when you thought he was fully inside you, he would push some more and you would feel yourself stretch around him. it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just a lot to get used to. so your arms were reaching across his back, scratching slightly as he bottomed out inside of you.

deep sighs and whiny protests soon became blissful incantations of pleasure leaving your lips to hit rapper!eren‘s bare shoulder. his tatted fingers were digging into the fat surrounding your hips, waist, anything he could reach. not too long after you two began fucking, his manager had opened the door to ask if he was ready to go. but, when he opened the door to the soundproof studio and saw you two fucking on the sofa, he figured rapper!eren had some loose ends to tie up before he left to go to his hotel. neither of you had noticed because you were too busy focusing on the sweet words leaving this man’s mouth, as well as his chains hitting your skin. no soul would’ve guessed that this man’s pen game was crazy with the fucked out nonsense he was spewing on whatever skin he was kissing at the time.

”imma fuck you so good nobody’s gonna be good enough f’r you. hm? you want that? fuck, if I wasn’t so stupid(?) i’d fuck a baby in you. i promise you. this pussy’s so fucking tight, i don’t even care anymore. i got money, i could take care of a kid. you wan’ it? you wan’ me to just get you pregnant? let everyone call you my baby mama? you’re a slut you know that, yeah? just wan’ my nut leaking outta you? fuck, y/n, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

rapper!eren whose fingers teased your clit, slow and gentle as if he wasn’t pounding into you with reckless abandon on some small sofa in his studio. but the few seconds that those two fingers sped up on your little bud of nerves were enough to have you drenching his lower abdomen, and fingers. too lost in the moment, he had forgotten to taste you earlier, so he put his fingers in his mouth and he rolled his tongue around them. the taste of you in his mouth dropped his eyelids, his hips moving faster and faster as your arousal coated his tastebuds.

rapper!eren who couldn’t remember the last time he was that turned on by anyone. his hips were moving on their own, rushing to get that release. he wanted to hold it, because he wanted to give you round after round after round and he wanted you to cum, at least, one more time before he did so himself. if it were up to him, he would pick you up and take you into the booth and fuck you in there so he could get some adlibs for his next song. but he just couldn’t do it.

“i’ll—fuck—i’ll make it up to you. i swe—shit”, he quickly pulled out of you, and scrambled to take his condom off. his hand managed one stroke on his dick before his nut spurted all over your chest, specks finding themselves on your chin. before the last droplets of his release dripped onto your stomach.

once he finished, rapper!eren pulled back and, as his eyes regained focus, he was just mesmerised by you. eyes barely opening, bodily fluids all over you, but his chain remained proud at the centre of your chest. he had to take his phone out and take a few pictures of you just like that. spurts of his cum acted as an adhesive, sticking his name onto your heart. yeah, he wasn’t letting you go now. he didn’t know how to feel about the cum splattered on his chain, but he just settled on getting a new one and just letting you keep that one. how he would explain that to his girlfriend, he had no fucking clue but he would figure something out…

after he took you to a hotel suite and made up for nutting quicker than he had hoped…by fucking you senseless:))

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren smut #rapper!eren #aot eren

[diejager]

Big bro ghost and little sister reader

Cw: wounds, injury, scolding, fighting, tell me if I missed any.

“Fucking hell, Ghost!” You hissed, eyes narrowed and voice muffled from your balaclava, a matching skull printed on the face of it to match Simon’s, “I told you to wrap your hands.”

He grumbled lowly, brows pinched from the burn of a warm towel scrapping across his knuckles, breath punched out of his nose and grunting when you dabbed the still-bleeding wound. You didn’t know what made his throw away his carefulness in sparring or training, you couldn’t get a word out of your brother’s thick skull until he spit it out himself. You’ll get Soap and Gaz’s side of the story if you see them, threatened it out of them if you had to because Ghost made them swear not to.

Throwing the wet towel, the fibres stained red, you wrapped his hands with crispy, white bandages, carefully layering strip over strip that would hold strongly on the broken skin.

Finishing the first hand with a kiss, you moved to the second one, sighing when you saw that his dominant hand was bleeding more than his left one, the bruised skin rising to his hand with blood dripping down each finger. You took more care of this hand, wiping away the fresh and dried, crusted blood before you washed the hand.

“Hey, Doc,” Soap peaked through the door, stepping in only after you waved at him.

“Need any help?” Gaz followed closely behind Soap, tipping his cap at you with a gentle smile on his face, much unlike his friend’s bright and wild smirk.

You shook your head, motioning to the bed unoccupied bed behind you while you wrapped up his hand and fingers, tape holding the strips together. You flipped it back and forth, looking for anything in case you missed one, then stared at his face, knowing he’d gotten hit once or twice. Ghost stared back at you, his dark eyes meeting your unblinking ones, a contest to see who would back down first. You were strong-headed and stubborn, and Ghost was as stubborn and hard-headed as you were, but you were the medical specialist and his sister. He growled out his dissatisfaction, but he eventually pulled his mask off, blonde hair matted and dried and the black paint greasy around his eyes. 

You rubbed his knee in encouragement, a soothing and familiar motion that grounded Simon whenever you asked him to take his mask off. You gazed at his face, taking in his bloodied and broken lip, his cheek purple and his droopy eyes, and you couldn’t help the tired sigh, hand cradling his untouched cheek. 

“Did you give ‘im hell, Si?” You asked, ignoring the hushed mumbles from the men behind you.

“ ‘Course I did,” he huffed, eyes closing and leaning into your palm with a soft rumble from his chest.

“Good to hear,” you smiled a proud grin, cleaning up the blood on his chin and searching for an ice pack for his growing bruise.

“Aye, gave it to him!” Soap cackled, slapping his knee with all the excitement.

Soap probably riled Simon up, encouraging him to fight back from the safety of the bench. Gaz, usually the more restrained one of the two, said nothing but hit the Scot’s shoulder, sending him a cheeky remark about his obnoxiousness and timing. 

“No second time, yeah?” You made Simon swear on it, you’d hold him on his word until you’d think of something to get back at him for stressing you out.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

#x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #Big brother!Ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost simon riley #simon riley #injury #tw wounds

[hotsingledragon]

clumsy

warnings: 18+ content, smut, dubcon, noncon elements, stuck in a wall, scent kink??, spanking, fingering, p in v, orgasm denial

quaritch gets paired with human scientist reader who is too clumsy for her own good. quaritch is constantly pulling her out of dangerous situations, whether it’s looking too far over a cliff, or swimming too deep into the river, he’s so agitated with how unaware she can be, always wondering how she managed to get in with the RDA when she can be so clueless at times

but he knows she’s smart and capable, she’s interjected in mission briefs, spewing her incredibly niche knowledge of pandora. he’s caught her from the corner of his eye in the gym, knows she can squat twice her weight with no trouble, knows she can pack a punch if needed.

when the two of them are paired on an extended survey in the jungles of pandora, quaritch had no idea what he was getting into.

only four days into their trip, the colonel has expended his limited patience.

they’ve been treading the jungles since 0800, though the shifting sunlight finds it’s now reaching midafternoon. she had scampered off, gushing that this sector was abundant with lichen which she absolutely needed to sample for her labs, though it isn’t long before quaritch hears her shout from a short distance. the colonel tucks the heel of his rifle into his shoulder, alert as he searches for her and any potential threats.

but what the colonel finds is truly ridiculous, somehow she has managed to lodge herself between two fallen logs, unable to push her hips through the slim gap.

“colonel quaritch? is that you? please help!”

her hips wiggle and her feet kick, drawing the colonel’s attention. most of the time he would roll his eyes and pull her by the collar like a scorned child, but this felt different.

“god dammit, how the hell did you manage this?” he lowers the barrel of the rifle as he steps closer to the fallen trees, watches as she kicks helplessly with her boots barely toeing the ground. the colonel tries not to look too close at her toned legs, or how her tight shorts are riding up into the apex of her thighs.

he growls in frustration, mostly at the absurdity of the situation but also the stir of lust in his stomach.

he steps closer, boots heavy as he treads the rugged terrain and assessed her position. he peers over the other side of the fallen trees and sees her panicked expression. her eyes are wide and her skin is flushed with exertion, bangs sticking to her forehead and she’s heaving to catch her breath. her breasts spill over her low neckline and smoosh together given the tight space.

quaritch snicks his teeth, visibly upset.

“it’s always something with you, kid,” he mutters, grimacing

“i’m stuck,” she pouts, wiggling in a noncommittal effort to free herself

“clearly.” the colonel says gruffly, walking around the logs to assess the best way to free her. quaritch bends at his waist to meet her eyes. “you’re so much smarter than this, puke” he chided. his eyes glance at her breasts, her lips.

“i know that!” she snaps, shooting daggers at him and huffing out a breath. the colonel flares at her response.

“hey, don’t you catch a tone with me, girl,”quaritch says sternly, snapping his fingers and pointing at her. “now this s’bout the fourth time i’ve had to come an’ save ya from doin’ somethin’ stupid,” he tells her. “really should be thankin’ me,” he gruffs and stands to his full height.

quaritch circles back around, figuring the best way out was from this side. the colonel’s hands fall to his hips and he grimaces. “dammit, kid, what the hell were ya’ thinkin’?” he says. he steps closer and amplifies his voice. “i’m gonna grab ya’, alright? gonna grab right here and pull,” he tells her, large hands settling on her waist. his nose flares and his tail flicks as his hands clasp her sweat slick body.

he tries to focus on the task at hand, pulling her by the waist but she’s still squirming and kicking. her efforts prevent him from helping and only serve to irritate the colonel. when she accidentally kicks his ribs it quickly sends quaritch into a rage

in the fresh wave of frustration and really without a consciouts thought, quaritch swats the top her ass, hard. “dammit kid! quit all that wiggling.” he shouts, gritting his teeth. her entire body jolts with the unexpected sting and she shouts. “ah!” her thighs pull together and she’s gone rigid.

quaritch continues to flare. “i’ve had it with you, fuckin’ up the mission the way you have. always getting into trouble, i have half the the mind to just leave ya’ here” he growls. his fingers push into the plump flesh at her hips. he’s trying to ignore the fact that he’s half hard just from her ass in his face, and the grip he has on her sweat slick body isn’t helping.

before quaritch can even acknowledge his own actions, a sweet and vaguely familiar scent begins to blossom in the air. quaritch follows his nose, and he’s only faced with her muscular thighs and plump ass. “i’ll be damned, puke, are you gettin’ wet right now?” the colonel asks, confused and astonished and aroused.

her thighs tuck together, trying to make herself as small as possible, but the scent only continued to fill his nostrils and quaritch feels his dick jump. it’s a sweet aphrodisia that is distinctly her, so intoxicating that he can’t help himself from seeking her scent, inhaling deeply through his nose. he hums, and something switches within the colonel, a chuckle erupting from his chest.

“you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” he gruffs. “you’re gettin’ off on this, are ya?”

“filthy girl,” he says, hands smoothing over her bum. he pulls at the meat of her ass, spreading her before he drops his hold, the weight bouncing slightly in her shorts. the colonel growls. “what should i do with you?” he rumbles, pushing his fingertips into her hips.

the colonel quickly makes the decision. “i’m keepin’ you just like this, you’re not goin’ nowhere ‘til i decide it’s time to pull ya’ out of there,” he orders. “you got that, sugar?” asks, voice like silk and smoke. quaritch slots his hips against her backside, his thick member fitting right against her clothed cunt. he’s still pulling at her bum, kneading the flesh of her thighs, his ears flicking as they catch the sound of her whimpers on the other side.

quaritch swears he’s can feel the way her shorts catch against her clit, the swollen bud protruding slightly as he pushes flush against her backside.

“you’re so warm right here,” quaritch moans, punctuating with a thrust that drags the tip of his cock against her clit. the friction makes her yelp and she squeezes her thighs, sensitive from the rough layers of fabric separating them.

that’s when quaritch decides to hook his fingers into her waistband, peeling off her shorts and underwear. the colonel curses when he sees her arousal stringing between her soaked pussy and sticky panties. “fuck, this all for me?” quaritch teases, spreading her thighs. “what’s got you so worked up, huh?”

her garments pool at her ankles, and she can’t help but shiver as one of the colonel’s fingers ghosts up her calf, tickling the back of her knee and soon his entire hand is kneading at the juncture between her thigh and bum, exposing her cunt. “so fuckin’ wet down here, i bet you’d open right up for me,” quaritch drawls, pushing two fingers through her slick. quaritch glides them over her clit, coming back to push into her entrance. he groans when she sucks him in to his second knuckle, and he begins to slowly fuck his fingers into her.

quaritch can hear her moans from the other side, and once he’s able to a slide a third finger inside of her, he pumps them with a steady rhythm. “needy little thing, ain’tcha, taking my fingers like it’s nothin’.” he’s so unbelievably hard, his cock straining almost painfully against his cargos. he takes his fingers from her and she cries out, which earns her a quick swat at the back of her thigh.

“ah ah, quit you’re cryin’ doll, you’ll get it soon enough,” quaritch teases, and she hears the clank of metal from his belt coming undone. quaritch groans with relief, only has the mind to pull his pants just far enough to free his dick from its confines and begins to tease his cockhead against her, coating himself with her slick. he feels so big against her, she whines and tries to push her hips back into him, and she gets another spank for that.

“i told you to stop that damn wigglin’,” quaritch huffs. “naughty thing, is this why you keep fuckin’ everything up? ‘cause you’re needin’ cock so bad?” he grinds against her, swatting her bum again. “wanted my attention, huh? is that it? well, you got it now.”

the colonel gives in and lines his member with her dripping sex, pushing into her slick heat. quaritch hisses as her soaked cunt yields to him.

“that’s it, go on an’ open up for me, darlin’, just like that,” he begins to fuck his thick member into her slowly.

“christ, you’re so fuckin tight around me” he grits, the colonel’s own deep moans rumbling out of him. quaritch begins to push his hips slowly, setting a languid rhythm that has his cock bullying into her slick heat.

quaritch looks down where they are joined, her cunt stretching lewdly and painting his cock with her arousal.

quaritch almost wishes the logs were out of the way, so he could press into her back, so he could snake his hands along her torso towards her plump breasts, but he’s also got an inkling that she’s into this. she’s into the fact that she’s trapped, into the fact that she’s completely left to the colonel’s mercy.

the colonel cups the back of her thigh, lifting and finding another angle where he can slide his entire length inside of her, and she swears sees stars. she lets him take her, moaning loudly as the new angle kisses that spongy part inside of her.

“you like this, girl? your sweet little body trapped on my cock? huh?” he laughs, pausing his thrusts at the hilt. “yeah? you better get fuckin’ used to it, doll, you’re mine now,” he grunts, sliding his throbbing cock in and out of her clenching sex.

‘fuck! takin’ it so well, sugar. yeah, keep takin’ this fuckin’ cock,” he babbles, teeth bared as he fucks into her womb. pleasured moans are punched out of her with each snap of his hips.

“yeah, honey, that’s it. ahh fuck, so good lettin’ me take you like this, so dirty.” quaritch quickens his thrusts at brutal pace, slamming his cock into her tight heat. the colonel thrums with pleasure, low groans rumbling from his chest. he feels her walls tighten, and basks in the feel of her cunt locking around his thick member. quaritch is so fucking close to coming, knows she’s close too. he begins to lose his rhythm, sloppily thrusting into her.

but then quaritch pulls out, fisting his cock and groaning as he comes harder than he probably ever has, the sensation heightened in this new body. the first rope shoots across her lower back, and he groans at the sight, positioning himself so the rest of his cum lands on her pussy, leaving a milky mess over her cunt.

quaritch rumbles from his chest, propping his forearm onto the fallen tree as he catches his breath. he leans over her and looks down like he’s admiring his work. “mmm, so pretty covered in my cum, do you like that?” he wonders, dragging a finger through her folds. she quivers, her orgasm ripped away and her pussy clenches, desperate to feel anything. quaritch can hear her needy cries on the other side.

“aw don’t cry now, darlin’ you’ve been such a good little slut taking my cock, ya did so well,” he says. he gains his breath and stands straight, tucking himself back into his pants and buckling his belt.

“you don’t get to come yet, not after all the trouble you’ve made,” quaritch tells her. he pulls her shorts back over her hips, and the sticky mess of cum sticks to her. “now you just stay right there, sugar, i’ll come for ya when i’m ready,” he smirks.

“w-wait! colonel! please don’t go,” she pleads, still quivering and desperate to come. fear strikes her heart at the pretense of being alone, but the crunch of his boots over the forest floor is already fading. she honestly feels like crying, unsure when the colonel will come back, if he decides to come back.

p.s. he does come back, just before nightfall and he fucks her again for good measure before he’s able to pull her lax limbs from the gap in the fallen trees. she’s totally fucked out, and quaritch lets her cradle into his lap, smoothing a hand over her hair and warning her to stop getting herself into these situations.

notes: woooahhh this is probably the longest thing i have written yet! i get shy when writing the smuttier stuff hehe so please lmk what y’all think! reblogs and likes are super mega appreciated, hope you enjoyed!

#colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #avatar smut #so glad this is out of my system #my work

[trashpandato]

Control

Kara has no idea how things got out of control so quickly.

One minute, they were sitting in their booth at Al’s, downing their second round of drinks while chatting animatedly about that time when Alex accidentally ordered pizzas loaded with anchovies, and the next, tables were getting pushed over, chairs were flying and the entire bar was engulfed in chaos.

As with most bar fights, it’s completely unclear what or who started it. Kara briefly considers simply using her superspeed to subdue everyone enough to put an end to it, but then she remembers she’s blown out her powers earlier that day.

A bottle comes flying toward her and she ducks just in time. And then, someone grabs her shoulder and spins her around, but before Kara can even get a good look at who grabbed her, Lena is there, blocking a fist that was meant for Kara’s nose, and then throwing one clean punch to knock out Kara’s would-be attacker.

Shocked, all Kara can do in the moment is nod, but Lena is already taking a step toward a large burly dude who has Alex pinned to the bar. Lena yells to get his attention and then punches him out as well, though it takes more than one swing for him to go down.

Eventually, things die down. Kara assumes that whoever started the fight is either out cold or has left the bar amid the mayhem. 

“You alright?” Alex asks, concern for her sister evident in her face.

“I’m fine. Not a scratch. Thanks to Lena.”

They both turn towards where Lena is currently checking on Brainy, who seems a little shell shocked by what he has just witnessed.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? I had no idea she even knew how to throw a punch.”

Kara wants to nod, but then a series of images flash through her mind: Lena punching Beth Breen unconscious while Kara was being attacked by the nanobots, Lena knocking out Eve Tessmacher in Kaznia, Lena aiming right for Lex’s chin, twice.

“I’m going to go take her home,” Kara declares, knowing that all she wants to do right now is gather Lena up in her arms and hug her.

Alex nods. “Alright. You do that. I’ll call J’onn to help me sort out this mess.”

It takes a little while before Kara can convince Lena to leave, to let Alex take care of the aftermath of the fight, but eventually, they make it back to Kara’s apartment. As soon as they get inside, Kara makes a beeline for the freezer compartment of her fridge and pulls out a bag of frozen peas.

“Here. For your knuckles.”

Kara holds out the bag to Lena who raises an eyebrow. “Peas?”

“I, um, I don’t usually need ice packs myself, so, this is all I have.”

Lena smirks. “Oh I get that. I’m just surprised you have…frozen vegetables in your apartment.”

“I do eat green things sometimes, you know?” Kara retorts, rolling her eyes.

She takes a few steps and sits down on her couch next to Lena. Gently, Kara takes both of Lena’s hands and inspects them. Her knuckles are red and a little swollen, and there is a small cut that’s already scabbed over. Kara shakes her head and looks up.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“Yes, I did,” Lena cuts her off. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt my friends, hurt you.”

Kara presses a careful kiss to Lena’s injured hands and then rests the bag of peas on them.

“You, Lena Luthor, are my hero.”

“And you, Kara Danvers, are a sap.”

“Maybe. But I’m the sap who loves you.”

At that, Lena ducks forward a little and captures Kara’s lips in a soft kiss.

“I love you, too.

#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Crotch-Punching Distance

Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Jim, short for James, James short for Gabriel- or was it James, long for Jim and short for Gabriel? Is really getting on your nerves

CW/AN: this is just a bit of a crack fic request

Requests are OPEN

Gomens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You are really fucking tired of Jim, Armageddon, Heaven, Hell and everything in between. Well, except for Zira and Crowley, of course. But you were tired of the sheer metric tonnage of bullshit that seems to follow them no matter where they go, what they do, or who they talk too.

Hell, even those they don’t talk to. For God's sake, Gabriel, or Jim, or James had just shown up at the bookshop doors one day unannounced. It was enough to drive a person to pack up and move half a continent away (or half a Universe away, if Crowley’s plan was to be taken into serious consideration) just to get some peace and quiet. 

Anyway, it was safe to say that Jim was annoying the shit out of you today. Every day, yes, but today specifically. It may have been a good question to ask as to when Jim did not annoy the shit out of you. The answer to that question was ‘not very often.’ Wow, you think to yourself. It’s a good thing Aziraphale can’t read your mind. He’d be absolutely mortified at the amount of poor language and blasphemy filling up your mind this morning. 

Speaking of your Angel… He and Crowley were doing their utmost to ignore Jim, short for James, James short for Gabriel. Or was it James, long for Jim and short for Gabriel? Whatever. Your two loves had left Jim/James/Gabriel to your mercy and were not entirely certain whether that was a good idea or not yet. Only time would tell. 

Currently, Jim was standing before you and continuing on with his ridiculous project of arranging the books by alphabetical order of the first sentence of the first chapter. It was driving you mad, but Aziraphale had just told you to leave him be. He’d fix it up later. 

“You know,” Jim says, stopping his work to turn to face you. He was looking at you with a glint in his eye that meant he had something that he thought just absolutely had to be said. “You are the smallest person I’ve ever seen!” 

You blink once, twice, and then pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh. 

“No, really-” he says enthusiastically. “Like��� hmm, what are those things? Oh! Yes, like children! But bigger.” 

You glare up at him. It was true you were on the rather small side, but that didn’t mean it needed to be pointed out like that. 

"You know, Jim,” you reply, giving him a very tight smile. “You’re talking mad shit for someone in crotch-punching distance."

Jim cocks his head and blinks in confusion. “Crotch-punching distance? What’s that?” 

Your smile grows tighter, if that’s possible and your fingers twitch, itching to just punch him.

“Would you like to find out, Gabe?”

Jim splits into a wide grin, echoing your question with an enthusiastic “oh, boy!” 

You wouldn’t actually punch him. It’s not his fault he doesn’t remember what an arse he is. But it doesn’t stop you from fantasising about it either. 

“Alright, love?” You hear a suave voice from over your shoulder. You sigh, and nod. 

“Peachy, Crowley, but I’m tapping out. Your turn for Jimsitting.” You give Crowley a peck on the cheek and escape before he has the chance to protest. You can hear his spluttering from the other side of the shop. 

“I’m going to make some tea, Zira, love. Would you like some?” 

Aziraphale looks up from over his glasses and smiles warmly, the thought of tea appealing indeed. 

“Oh, that would be wonderful, dear. Thank you.” He goes back to his papers, trying to decipher something terribly interesting, you imagine. You give Aziraphale a peck on the cheek too for good measure on your way past. 

That Jim, though. He better watch it, because you did not take bullshit lying down, that was for sure.

#fanfiction #good omens #gomens #crowley #crowley x reader #crowley good omens #one shot #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley x reader #smut #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #david tennant #michael sheen #lemon #gender neutral reader #jim #archangel gabriel #gabriel #jim short for james short for gabriel #gabriel good omens #crack fic

[lcvesjj]

Hello honey,

I've for this enemies to lovers trope with Connor Rhodes in my head for a long time in my head, so I thought today I'm brave enough to send it to you. Reader is a new doctor at Med. Connor is in a bad for month now, cause his ex cheated on him. So he's not interested in getting to know the new young and beautiful doctor at med. On the contrary: he's letting his anger out on her, being mean, unfriendly and unfair to her. She moves to Chicago to start a new life, away from her abusive ex. Years of being in a bad relationship left her incredible insecure with new people, but she tries her best, being friendly and kind to build a new life, even trying to find new friends. Connor's behavior towards stings at first but soon starting to hurt her more than she wants to admit. Plus the stress and fear that her ex may find her stresses her even more. Imagine she's suffering from severe migraine attacks cause od stress and night terrors. One day getting to her breaking point when Connor once more letting his stress our on her leaving her flinching and let her spiraling her into a full blown panic attack at the break room. In her head she's not at Med but back with her ex.... Out of sheer terror she begs Connor not to hurt her.... Finally he realizes why she's so jumpy and shy. (just need some worried Connor now taking care of her and trying now over the next week's to gains her trust, maybe he helps her now during a migraine attack and so on, until she trusts him enough to him her past). I really love the enemies to lovers trope and the development of Connor being an absolute arrogant asshole to a caring protector and lovely human being.

Title : the new doctor - connor rhodes x fem!reader

Warnings : past abuse, panic attacks, angst, mentions of death of a patient, mentions of nightmares/night terrors, past abusive relationship, badly written enemies to lovers. If there is anything I might’ve missed, please don't hesitate to let me know and I will add it to the warnings.

A/n : This fic is dark and heavy so please be cautious while reading. Please remember that if you have experienced something similar there is always help available and people you can talk to. Stay safe and if anything in the warnings triggers you please don’t read this. I’m really sorry to anyone who has experienced something like this. Help is always available, please don’t be afraid to reach out to someone.

Moving to Chicago was a quick decision you had made in the middle of the night. After your ex boyfriend decided to go to the bar again and get wasted and when you tried to ask him to stop drinking and get a job, he punched you so hard to the point of a split eyebrow and a black eye. 

After patching up the split eyebrow and making sure you didn’t need any stitches, you opened your laptop and started looking for jobs in different cities. As far away from here as possible. You knew it wouldn't be a good idea to stay with him and to stay in this relationship.

So after many years of enduring his abuse you had had enough, you tried to leave so many times, but somehow your now ex-boyfriend managed to gaslight you into staying by promising he would change. But he never did change. Luckily you managed to save up some money just in case you’d need it, since you had a gut feeling that you would need it.

Seeing a job offer in the Gaffney Medical Center in Chicago, you felt like this was your chance to leave, without even thinking twice you sent an email with your application. And in the meantime you decided to pack your things and stay at a hotel for some time. It was for the best.

A few days later you got a response to your application asking for you to come in person for an interview. Seeing that email and your laptop you grinned widely.

This was it! You could start a new life away from your ex and the small town you lived in. This was your chance to finally leave and get away.

Before you knew it, you were in the plane landing at Chicago’s airport. Stepping out of the plane into Chicago’s winter air, you smiled to yourself.

This was it, you could finally start a new life and live how you always wanted to live. 

But luck wasn’t really on your side, it's what you quickly realised after getting the job at Gaffney Medical Center. The patients and nurses were very kind and helpful. The doctors too, except for one doctor, his name was doctor Connor Rhodes.

He was cold and he always seemed to be angry at you for no reason. One of the nurses whose name was Maggie, explained that Connor recently got cheated on by his ex-girlfriend and from then on he has been acting rude and cold to everyone. But especially you- you didn’t know why he would act like that, since you only met him 3 weeks ago.

You tried your hardest to be friendly and nice to him, but that just seemed to anger him even more, he just started to be more and more unfair to you while brushing off all of your attempts of trying to be his friend.

Soon your migraine attacks came back from all the stress of work, the fear of your ex returning and Connor’s behaviour. Every time you had to be next to Connor, your whole body would tense up.

After escaping from your ex boyfriend, dealing with Connor would stress you out to the point of panic attacks and nightmares. Since he would sometimes remind you of your ex when he’d be so cruel and unfair to you. You had no idea what you could’ve done wrong to deserve this type of treatment. 

You tried your hardest to be nice to him, but after a while you just gave up completely. You just didn’t see the point in trying to be nice to someone who would just brush off all of your attempts and just continue to act like that.

One day it all just came crashing down after a patient coded and you tried your hardest to revive him but it was no use. Connor was in the room with you, trying to help. But after one of the nurses told you that it’s no use, you stopped and announced the time of death. 

Taking off your gloves and walking into the breakroom to just calm down and breathe, Connor stormed after you and started yelling. When you tried to walk away, he grabbed your upper forearm and turned you to face him.

You could feel the panic starting to rise in your chest, Connor then started shouting at you while telling you how much of a dumb mistake you made and he was blaming you for what went wrong, even if it wasn’t your fault. 

When he raised his hands above his head in anger and frustration, you instinctively raised your hands above your face and head in an effort to protect yourself, since you thought Connor was going to hurt you. You could feel your body tremble and the tears slowly pour down your cheeks in fear and pure terror.

Seeing your body tremble and the way your hands were shielding your face and head as if you were waiting for an incoming hit, Connor’s face turned pale white. That’s when his heart broke into tiny pieces, it’s when he realised why you were always so tense around him. Someone had hurt and traumatised you to the point of this being your reaction whenever someone raised their voice or made any sudden movements next to your face or head.

“Please don’t hurt me” You managed to choke out through your tears, feeling the panic grow in your chest even more than before. The amount of terror and fear in your voice made Connor’s heart break even more. 

Connor quickly took a small step back while slowly putting his hands down to not spook you even more by keeping them in the air. It was obvious you were having flashbacks and that his actions had sent you into a massive panic attack.

“Hey hey Y/n, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. You're safe here, it’s okay.” Connor says softly while trying to get you to calm down. But it didn’t do much since you just kept on begging him not to hurt you- in your mind you were still in the small town you lived in with your ex.

After a while you just seemed to finally realise that you aren’t in that small town anymore. You were safe. You were in Chicago, which was far away from the small town you used to live in. Slowly letting your hands down you let out a sob seeing Connor. He slowly walked up to you and gently embraced you, letting you sob onto his chest.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I’m so so sorry- I should’ve- I should’ve known…I'm so sorry.” Connor just repeated over and over again while holding you tightly.

Soon you managed to calm down, yet you still kept your face buried into Connor’s chest. You tried to take a few deep breaths to calm down. Seeing you in such a state Connor felt heartbroken, he shouldn't have let his emotions and frustrations out on you. You didn’t deserve that.

After talking to Maggie it was agreed that you could go home, since you weren't in the right headspace to be able to work properly. Connor offered to drive you home, but you refused while mumbling the excuse that you needed some fresh air. 

Grabbing your things from your locker quickly you walked out of the Medical Center. You didn’t notice it but Connor kept on glancing at you while you walked away. He looked heartbroken, sad and guilty.

When Connor’s shift ended all he could think about was you. He felt guilty for acting in a way that made you relive those traumatic memories. Even if he didn’t know what might’ve happened to you in the past, he knew one thing- you did not deserve what happened to you.

He just couldn’t take it anymore, Connor knew he had to apologise to you and somehow make it up to you for acting like such a jerk to you. A few days later when you came into work Connor was waiting for you by the front desk. He looked sad and apologetic. He did apologise and he tried his hardest to start making it up to you for his past behaviour.

Over the next few weeks Connor was different. He was nicer and more caring, it’s as if someone had flipped a switch inside of him. Soon you trusted him enough to tell him about your past and why you moved to Chicago. And after telling him all of that, he hugged you tightly to comfort you. 

He soon started coming over to your apartment from time to time to just check in on you and see how you were doing. When one day when you didn’t show up to work Connor decided to check up on you, since you weren’t the type of person who would just not come into work without saying anything before. 

Driving to your apartment he felt nervous and anxious, he tried calling and texting but when you didn’t reply he wanted to come and check up on you. Just to make sure that everything was okay.

After you didn’t answer the door or any of his calls or texts. Connor got very worried for you. What if something bad happened and you needed help? Without thinking twice he looked under your doormat for the extra key that you had told him about after he came over for the first time.

Quietly unlocking the door he walked inside and started calling out your name. Connor walked around your small apartment searching for you. After a while he decided to check your bedroom. Slowly walking towards the bedroom he knocked on the door. 

Hearing him knock on the door to your bedroom, you sat up slightly confused. But as soon as you sat up you grabbed your head from the pain. You were having one of those bad migraines that would happen to you from time to time due to the stress.

“Connor? Is it you?” You mumbled half asleep while trying to not cry from the pain. “Yes it's me Y/n, can I come in? I just wanted to check up on you.” Connor replied while standing in front of the door leading to your bedroom.

You just managed to mumble a soft “yes” before laying back down still holding your head in your hands, trying to ease the migraine a little. Connor slowly walked inside and seeing how dark your room is and how the blind were shut he knew what this meant. You were having a migraine- after getting to know you better Connor found out that you sometimes get bad migraine attacks.

“Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?” Connor said quietly while walking up to your bed and crouching down by your side.

“Like crap and my head hurts.” You whispered back while finally looking over at him. You were pale and had dark bags under your eyes and you looked ill.

“Migraine?” Connor just asked while reaching over slowly to push the hair out of your forehead. He was trying his best to be gentle and calm around you after hearing what happened with you ex, Connor didn’t want to send you into another panic attack or worse because of his actions. You just nodded in response to his question, since you barely had the energy to speak.

“Do you want me to get you some medicine for the pain?” He asked while looking over at you with a concerned expression on his face. 

“Yes please.” You said softly while glancing up at him.

“Okay I'll be back in a minute. I'll also make you some tea.” Connor said, smiling softly and he kissed your forehead before getting up and quietly heading towards the bathroom where you kept your medicine.

After you took the medicine, your migraine seemed to ease a little. Connor stayed by your side the whole time refusing to leave you in such a vulnerable state. Smiling at him softly you said “You know that you don't have to do this right?”

He just responded saying “I know. But I want to. It's the least I can do.” With a small smile while brushing the hair out of your forehead again.

“Thank you.” You whispered while smiling at him tiredly. Connor just nodded in response. “Try and get some sleep okay? I'll stay here if you want me too.” He replied with a smile. “I’m not about to leave you here.” 

Nodding you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. “Thank you Connor.” Was the last thing you could say before you fell into a deep sleep. And for the first time in ages you didn't have a nightmare and you slept well knowing that Connor was by your side.

#connor rhodes #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #one chicago #one chicago imagine #one chicago x reader #chicago med #chicago med x reader #chicago med imagine

[spacedace]

Sorta sequel of this post (where Bruce is happy that Damian has totally and completely normal human friends). You don't have to read that one to get this one tho lol.

Slight Trigger Warning: minor description of injuries and blood, including injuries to ears and scalp. It's quick and not much detail on the injuries themselves, but I wanted to give a heads up.

Tim always thought his friend group was the most unhinged in the family.

Not anymore.

His friends at least had enough of a sense of self preservation to book it when Bruce caught them doing something they shouldn't and leveled them with A Look.

Tim's pretty sure Damian's friends call god a bitch to his face everyday and give him a wedgie in a Denny's parking at least twice a week. He's positive he saw them roast one of the League's S tier world ending threats to the point of tears last weekend. The footage was too badly corrupted to prove it, but he knows what he saw.

All of which to say, he's shouldn't be surprised when Bruce levels little Elle Nightingale and her cousin Billy Batson with his patented "You Are In So Much Trouble" BatDad Face (TM) and the little hellions just grin back at him, entirely unaffected. Shouldn't be but still is because holy fuck even Jason will still back off when Bruce levels him with that look. And these kids had the gaul to ask Bruce if they could go get ice cream after they were done here.

Bruce blinks first. It feels like an omen for the ends times.

Tim can't blame him though, you can’t look into the heart of insanity and chaos like that for too long without risking losing something in the process. Steph was right, they really are nightmare demons sent to feed on their fear and uncertainty.

Billy swipes a smear of blood away from his busted nose with the sleeve of his torn and dirty shirt. Elle's teeth are pink and red from blood - Tim isn't sure if it's better or worse that it's not her blood. Jon was bouncing between fussing over Damian - who Superboy had been mostly able to keep from joining the fight and thus probably saved a couple of lives - and casting worried looks at his two bloody friends as they stood lined up in front of Bruce. At least one of them had enough sense to be wary of that look.

Tim would say that Jon was the well behaved one of the bunch - and worryingly enough he might be - but he'd heard him yelling give em the chair at one of the two scrappers as he and Bruce came running over so he knows it's only the fact that a punch from even a baby Kryptonian would have killed a person that kept the littest Kent out of the fight rather than any idea that the fight itself was wrong. All four children look ruthlessly proud of each other.

The ones the hellions were fighting - a couple of guys Tim's age who had been stupid enough to try and bully Damian at all, let alone in front of his pack of feral raccoons - looked like they'd gone several rounds with Killer Croc before being thrown around by Bane and run over by a car. They deserved it- assholes - but they still looked rough.

One was bleeding from several bite wounds Elle had inflicted on him, earlobes a mess from where the little girl had torn his earrings out, both eyes blackened and swollen to the point he couldn't open them anymore. The other had a large red and bleeding bald spot from where Billy had ripped a good chunk of hair out, nose completely shattered- likely in retaliation for what had been done to Billy's - and elbow hanging at an odd angle. Tim's not sure which one of them had the chair - thankfully one of those fabric folding ones and not something more solid - broken over them, or which hellspawn had taken Jon's suggestion to heart, but either way he could see the twisted up remains of the item in question laying not too far away.

At least the EMTs were ushering the two weeping teens away into ambulances so they could get taken care of. Tim's pretty sure Elle and Billie would try and get a few more hits in otherwise and knowing them he doesn't doubt that at least one of the cops that had shown up on the scene would end up losing a finger or two in the process. Which normally Tim would be fine with - he has files on all of these guys and they deserve way worse than what a couple twelve year olds could do to them - but in this case he's already having a hard time convincing the officers that it's just a matter of some kids defending one of their friends from a couple of bullies.

Ugh. Some people just didn't understand children and it really showed. It was a public park, kids were gonna be kids. Just a normal childhood scrap. The real problem were the highschoolers who tried to start shit with a group of little kids.

Sure the hellions were feral and unhinged enough to be unbothered by Bruce trying to chide them about starting fights instead of getting an adult to help, but at the end of the day playground scuffles will happen and the kids were just defending themselves. Cops should be thankful that BL wasn't able to join them for the day or someone would have ended up shoved into a cooler or something.

Eh, whatever. He got them to drop the assault charges - which were ridiculous, Elle & Billie were normal twelve year olds getting into a fight, it wasn't like it was Damian with all his training and skills - and Bruce had given up on trying to be disapproving of them not reporting the attempted bullying to him instead of handling it themselves. Probably because at the end of the day he was a little proud of the little shits for defending Damian and standing up against some bullies. And really Tim was too. They might be vicious little hellspawns sent there to torment them all, but they were good kids at the end of the day and they cared about Damian enough to throw down with guys twice their size.

Tim pulled up a list of the nearest ice cream places on his phone, Bruce was totally going to cave on that front and even if he didn't Tim was willing to use his executive Big Brother privileges to get them ice cream anyway. He isn’t going to need to though. Jon had thrown his puppy dog eyes into the mix on that front and Tim knows from experience how much a kryptonian looking hopeful could get away with when it came to this family. Hell, Kon had probably taught his little brother that face for these exact kinds of situations because of how effective it was.

"I'm still going to have to tell Jazz about this." Bruce said as they shuffled off towards the restrooms to try and get everyone cleaned up, a parting shot to make up for his failure to cow them earlier.

"Please don't tell her! She’s gonna make us read articles about conflict resolution again!"

"B come on that's no fair! You said we did good not letting those assholes get away with their bullying shit!"

"Language!"

Huh, Tim thought with a grin. Maybe the little demons weren't as terrifyingly unstoppable as he thought.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #danielle fenton #dani fenton #danielle phantom #billy batson #damian wayne #jon kent #bruce wayne #tim drake #Tim: God those kids are weird #Random Person: because of *lists many many things that the kids do that aren’t normal or are outright impossible for children to do* #Tim: What? No that’s just how kids are #Tim: I'm talking about the fact that they can beat Bruce at a stare down *that’s* some freaky shit #not a single member of the batfam know what regular children are like #Would Jon be down for Elle & Billy to beat the shit out of some teenagers? #Probably not normally but they were being mean to his best friend #If Damian got involved someone would have ended up in the ICU rather than just the emergency room #and since Jon is the only one that can hold on to him/won't just let him go he has to be content with offering up cheers from the sideline #it's hard being the reasonable and grounded friend in a gang of feral raccoons #Box Lunch is mad she didn't get to join in when she finds out later and spends a week haunting the dudes #Tim is in awe of Jazz's ability to keep these demons more or less in line