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#this idea jumped into my head and refused to leave
purpleknighty · 2 days
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Do I Wanna Know?
Pairing: Agent!Haerin x Agent!Fem!Reader
Summary: Now a rouge spy, fleeing from the old agency you once worked for, you find yourself at a familiar doorstep you never thought you’d see again.
Warnings/tags: violence, mentions of blood and injuries, small angst, enemies to lovers(?), reader and haerin are off and on, heavy emphasis on communication, misunderstandings(?), tell me if I missed anything else
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Tonight has been shit, nothing has worked out in your favor, everything keeps getting worse and worse.
At first, you assumed it was very badly timed coincidences. You walk into a bar for starters, college students being the loudest customers there. 20 minutes into enjoying your drink, a suspicious group of men walk in, eyeing you up and down.
They whisper among each other, stealing glances at your seated frame, but you feel their eyes on the back of your head.
You keep calm, waiting to see who makes the first move. The men do, and as they itch closer, you realize they look like agents that you use to work with.
Fuck that.
You pay for the two drinks you had, a gin tonic and a strawberry sunset, bolting out the doors with the group falling after you.
It becomes an annoying game of cat and mouse, the racing after your car, the unnecessary shooting, the rookie mistakes they keep making, it was all just headache inducing.
That same group purposely took a different route to corner you, five guys in black suits coming out to bring you back to headquarters.
You denied their request upon getting out the car, not caring about how wanted you are within the agency, how much of a target is on your back or how much money the higher uppers are offering these stupid rookies to bring you back.
You could give two shits about it.
Your refusal results in an all-out-brawl, which was very unfair in your case, five guys all jumping one person? Now that’s just plain dirty. You win through experience but you don’t leave the battlefield unscathed, one of those bastard had slashed you with his knife, adding another wound that needs to heal.
At this point, wounded, bleeding and tired and the clock passing midnight. It was best to go home and clean up before resting.
But somehow, your body goes on autopilot. Foot pressing on the gas, hands turning the steering wheel into a familiar place, onto a familiar road and oops, now you’re standing at a familiar doorstep.
This is a bad idea. You should turn back around. It’s all the blood loss getting to your head.
Despite the voices telling you to not follow through, you do it anyways. Knocking with your free hand as the other presses a flimsy cloth over your cut to stop the bleeding.
You wait a few seconds before doing it again, ignoring how slowly you’re starting to become dizzy and lightheaded. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
Passing out in front of your enemy’s(?) doorstep isn’t a good look on you or anyone.
As you’re about to give up, grumbling curses under your breath, the door opens. A set of cat eyes stare through the cracked door, suspicious but upon seeing your silhouette, the door flys open.
There, she stands in all her sleepy glory. Hair slightly disheveled, sleep shorts with a tank top on adores her body and cat eyes that still make your heart flutter and chest tighten.
Yup, it’s definitely the blood loss now.
“What happened?” She breaks the silence, dark eyes sinking in your injured frame. White shirt now stained red from your blood and others, dark jeans covered in dirt from all the times you were thrown into the ground of that god-awful alleyway.
A dry chuckle leaves your lips, causing you to cough up. “You know,” A half-smile finds its way onto your face. “Being hunted all night, the fun stuff.”
Haerin huffs, making sure the coast is clear by looking down her hallway. Seeing no one but you and her awake at this hour, she gently pulls you in.
“Let’s..” She pauses, eyes lingering on you. “Let’s get you cleaned up so you can get out of my house.”
Wow, such a friendly welcoming.
You hiss at the pain, hands gripping the armrest at your sides. You can never get use to this, snitches. No matter how many wounds you have received as your time as an agent, you will never get use to getting snitches.
Your head falls back to lay on the headrest of the office chair, a sigh of relief can be heard, aware this painful procedure is done and over with.
“How did this happen?” Haerin speaks softly, fingertip lightly circling and messaging around the wound as to not hurt you.
You ignore the groan that threatens to spill from your throat, ignoring the feeling of desire everytime you look at Haerin.
You know you can’t have her but that’s what keeps pulling you in, what keeps making you come back.
You run a hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. “Rookie agents were sent after me. Found my ass in a bar downtown.”
You watch Haerin’s brows frown, almost like she’s lost in thought before collecting herself and standing up from her kneeling position.
“Why are you here? You are a target, coming here makes me an enemy as well, you know?” The cat-eyed girl looks back over her shoulder, only to shake her head at seeing you once again, this time bruised and wounded.
“I work for the same agency that’s after you, Y/n. A hefty amount of money is being offered to whoever can successfully bring you back, dead or alive.”
The raven haired traces her pointer finger over the barrel of your pistol that lays unsupervised on her desk, petite fingers are quick to grab the gun, now your own weapon is being pointed at you.
“I could kill you right now. You’re tired, open, and vulnerable. I could end this nuisance and bring you back to headquarters myself.”
She’s right, Haerin could kill you right now and you wouldn’t have the energy to fight back. Your knife is too on her desk but she stands right next to it which puts you at an disadvantage, and she knows you have a big slash on the side of your stomach, another disadvantage to you.
Your life on the line, the barrel to your gun in point blank range to your face, you should be scared.. but you’re not.
You can’t stop thinking about how the moonlight makes Haerin the most beautiful woman alive, even more than she already is. Cat eyes that keep you hooked, a smile or grin or smirk that makes you weak in the knees, or a laugh that makes you wish things were different.
You wished you and Haerin met under different circumstances.
Maybe then things could’ve worked out better between you two.
“Then kill me. You have the opportunity, Haerin. Take it.”
She sighs, arms dropping, a small smile graces her pretty lips.
“You’re so stupid, dingus.”
God, you love when she calls you that.
Miss it even.
A dorky smile breaks out before you can stop it, eyes filled with so much emotion for the cat-eyed woman. You just hope the dimmed moonlight doesn’t expose too much.
Then a harsh jolt of pain flashes up your spine from a simple gesture, reminding you of the real reason why you’re here, why you’re sitting in Haerin’s apartment to begin with.
It ruins the mood greatly.
You go to stand up, abruptly becoming lightheaded and close to losing your balance. Haerin’s eyes widen in worry, rushing to your side as you try to re-focus your vision.
“Sorry,” You murmur, seeing the slight mess you made. “Stood up too quickly.” Haerin frowns, eyes glancing up to your face then back down to your cut.
She bites her lip before speaking, “Stay.” She says it so softly that it scratches your brain in a way that just feels right. “You’re injured.. stay for the night.”
She shyly finishes, not sure if her hands on your arms are there to keep you or her steady, you don’t mind the warmth though.
The request feels tempting, is this how Eve felt when the snake whispered for her to eat the forbidden fruit?
Inner conflict arose, your heart tells you to do it, take her up on her offer. Once in a lifetime opportunity, but your mind says no. It’ll feel good in the moment, but will it help you in the long run?
Haerin is already breaking protocols, giving aid to someone the higher ups deem to be an enemy. If they catch wind of this.. Haerin might be outcasted, thrown out of the agency and ending up in the same situation you’re in.
A wanted agent, a criminal who’s on the run from an organization that’s wants you dead.
Yeah, this was a bad idea after all.
You forcefully have to pull yourself away Haerin’s grasp, choosing to ignore the look of disappointment that comes across her face.
“Where you going?” She breaks the silence, voice quiet, watching your back muscles flex as you reach out for your ruined shirt.
“Leaving.”
Cat eyes stare daggers into you, brows now stuck in a permanent frown.
“Why? I said you can stay for the night.” The feeling of annoyance seeps into your veins, wondering why Haerin’s starting this now.
“No reason. I’m just getting myself out of your hair.”
She stops you from grabbing your gun, the small puddle of annoyance expanding from the action. A sigh of frustration slips pass your lips, running a hand through your hair.
“Haerin.”
“Stay, Y/n. You’re injured.”
“That hasn’t stopped me before.”
“Well, I’m stopping you now.”
Your eye twitches, why won’t she let you leave? She’s let you walked out on multiple occasions, but why now? Why stop you now?
You scoff, now isn’t the time for your emotions to get in the way. You shove past her, grabbing what belongs to you from her desk and making your way through her bedroom door.
But Haerin isn’t one to give up easily (one of many traits that you love about her) and forcefully grabs onto your forearm, halting you for putting your shoes on.
“Haerin- I swear to god—“ But you stop upon looking back at her. Now there’s a clear look of sadness, dark brown eyes are slightly teary and her grip tightens on your skin.
She looks so small and fragile, so vulnerable and soft. Even through your shoving and pushing, Haerin has always been gentle and patient.
Never one to swear, even when upset or angry. Always polite and quiet.
You still can’t fathom why she chose to become an agent with her shy and timid demeanor.
“Please..”
Her voice cracks, trying to push back the sniffles and tears that threaten to fall.
“Stay.. please..”
Her pleads and begs get muffled and drowned out by your lips. Her broken voice echoing through the empty walls of her apartment, almost as if it’s haunting and taunting your very existence.
Your hand finds way to the back of her head, burying itself in her silky locks. The other placed on her waist to pull her closer, needing her scent to linger on your skin.
This kiss feels different, like there’s a hidden message behind it. A message Haerin can’t express with words but can convey with body language.
You pull back when oxygen becomes a problem, your warm breath fanning over her lips and your heat engulfing her into a comforting embrace.
“I’ve missed you..” She whispers, finally spilling. Her palms rest above your chest before scrunching the ruined fabric in her grasp.
“I’ve been worried after everything happened.. I got even more worried when Headquarter started sending agents after you..”
She pauses, observing you quietly as she continues to talk.
It’s one of those rare moments when Haerin talks and never stops.
“Was it really that bad?”
You shrug, not wanting to think about how chaotic your life has been since and focus more on the woman in your arms.
“I broke protocol, and I mean a bunch of them too when I was working. The higher ups have always been strict about their rules.”
She nuzzles into your neck, the act resembling a cat. Your heart speeds up, pumping and butterflies forming.
“You went MIA for months..” You crack a small smile at her voice.
“Had to keep a low profile. Didn’t wanna die so early into my retirement.”
You go to move, which prompts the brunette to cling on to you tighter. God, she’s gonna be the death of you.
“Relax, kitty.” You press a reassuring kiss to her temple, the brief smell of her shampoo easily evaporates any worries you might’ve had for the night.
“Just going to take my shoes off, I’m not going anywhere.”
She smiles into your neck, looking up at you through her lashes, cat eyes instantly turning you smitten. A faint blush creeps over her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears.
Attractive, ethereal, magnificent, beautiful.
Kang Haerin makes you feel alive.
You let your emotions win once again that night, choosing to bask in what it would feel like to fall in love with Haerin without death knocking at your front door.
And honestly.. now you don’t wanna know.
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phntmeii · 7 months
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⭐️ OPLA Characters and the “Only One Bed” Trope
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[Suggestive + No Gendered Terms]
⭐️ Characters Featured: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Mihawk
⭐️ A/N: So... Maybe just the part one to this if people like it? I'll write the next part with the other characters if people want it :) Anyway, cranking out these compilation posts because I’m brain broken with just OPLA content.
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Monkey D. Luffy
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✖️ Luffy didn’t show any concern about there being one bed. He saw it as something to find fun in a way! To share a bed with one of his friends!
✖️ He’s immediately jumping into the bed and turning to you, holding out his arms, waiting for you.
✖️ “I promise not to take up too much space! Come on!”
✖️ Luffy is immediately wrapping himself around you like a little backpack, nuzzling his head into your neck.
✖️ “M’so soft…” while his hand gently caressed your belly, gently grabbing and massaging it.
✖️ When he felt himself half-asleep, he didn't notice how he was trailing small kisses at your shoulder and the back of your neck. It was like an unconscious habit shining through.
✖️His arms around you are tightly clung so it’s safe to say that you aren’t leaving the bed until he lets you. And he just might not all night.
Roronoa Zoro
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✖️ Zoro is immediately refusing. The moment he saw one bed in the room, he spun on his heels and walked out to try and complain.
✖️ When there really was no other rooms, he entered back inside with an annoyed look.
✖️ “Just… *sigh*. Take the bed. I’ll be fine”
✖️ Maybe he could just lay on the floor instead in his mind. Even when you offered to share, he refused. But, he soon found that the discomfort wasn’t worth it.
✖️ He carefully climbed into the bed, taking up the minimum he could at the edge. When he was drifting asleep, he didn’t notice his hands reach out for you, pulling your body toward his.
✖️ As if you were a stuffed animal, he pressed your body to his and hugged you close.
✖️ His tired voice just hushed you when you tried to ask what he was doing as his hands moved toward your chest. “Shh… Jus’… You’re warm.”
✖️ After your restless night together, the next morning, he acts as if he has no idea what you’re talking about when you ask him about last night.
Nami
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✖️ Nami is annoyed but won’t make a big deal out of it. She’ll roll her eyes and complain while setting her stuff down.
✖️ “Let’s just… do what we can. It’s only for one night. You take that side, I’ll take this side.”
✖️ She didn't want to make you uncomfortable or overstep boundaries. Keeping on her side, facing away from you.
✖️ She soon heard you rustling around in the bed, unable to keep still, she was annoyed but asked what was wrong. "Nami... I just- Sorry, I can't sleep."
✖️ Nami's face softened in realization. Sighing, she scooted closer and pulled you into her, holding you close. Her hands gently rubbed your back.
✖️ "It's okay. I can make you feel better." She let her hands lightly caress your sides, trailing up to your neck then cheek. "C'mon, I'll help tire you out."
Vinsmoke Sanji
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✖️ Sanji immediately smirked at the sight of one bed but on the inside, was absolutely dying from embarrassment at the idea of being so close to you.
✖️ He immediately laid in bed, hands behind his head with a cocky look. "Already nervous, beautiful? It's only one night..."
✖️ You were used to Sanji's flirting and mainly ignored it since he was like that with everyone. You weren't inherently special in your head.
✖️ The moment you relaxed into the bed on your side, facing away from Sanji, Sanji was laid on his side, eyes to your back. He hesitated to do anything but stare, but he couldn't help it. A phantom touch of his fingers lightly traced your spine.
✖️ You were initially going to complain like you normally did until Sanji scooted closer, placing a kiss at your shoulder. His hand lightly rubbing your arm.
✖️ You heard that ever-familiar teasing, soft laugh behind you. He enjoyed your reactions to his simple touches.
✖️ "You're so stiff... It's just my hands, you know? I just want... I need to feel you."
Dracule Mihawk
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✖️ Mihawk stared at the bed indifferently. It was an inconvenience but certainly not something he was going to fuss about. It's just a bed.
✖️ He placed his belongings aside, getting ready for bed and slipping under the covers. When he saw you looking to instead sleep on the floor with your bag as a makeshift pillow, he didn't say anything.
✖️ Laying in bed, Mihawk always found it difficult to drift to sleep, as though he was meant to be tormented by the mere idea of sleep.
✖️ Maybe an hour had gone by and he looked over to see you still on the floor, huddled into yourself. He sighed loudly. "Stop forcing yourself to freeze. Lay down here."
✖️ Seeing you carefully slip under the covers as well, he looked over at you, eyes scanning your face then raking down your body.
✖️ Mihawk reached out with his hand, pulling you closer to him until your face was inches away from his. His stare was critical still, as it always was.
✖️ His hand went to the back of your head, gently caressing you. “I can warm you up, if you’d like me to. Lay back.”
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⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
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euovennia · 1 year
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headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)
anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3
pt. 2
fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:
let's get one thing straight
becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task
while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend
the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone
i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself
and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone
but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack
cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before
naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave
but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare
think 👁️👁️
he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him
it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"
to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)
but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."
he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"
he does not spit it out
from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him
the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him
these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking
he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it
and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own
and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is
so what does he do?
he tries to block you out
it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity
and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)
and the two of you become quite chummy
well
as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost
instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you
it's a surprise
a delightful one
but still a surprise
his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is
despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts
so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold
it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!
anyway
simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic
you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it
he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off
he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover
but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself
maybe having a friend isn't all that bad
and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue
until one day you don't show up
while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now
you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry
even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?
but you don't show up the next day
or the next
and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry
and a little sad and worried
but mostly angry
who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)
if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face
he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room
he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you
but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks
you got yourself sick
tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you
which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine
you nearly cry in your haze of sickness
you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much
ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship
it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days
but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday
which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks
but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"
and most times you say yes
but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)
but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free
gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man
when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary
like
imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling
i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway
it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it
like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in
and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand
cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."
then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot
it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you
especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission
you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment
seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?
and honestly?
you're not quite sure yourself
you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to
maybe one day you'll ask him yourself
maybe you won't
doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend
even if he doesn't refer to you as the same
he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same
regardless
you two are very much attached at the hip
what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person
he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem
soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him
gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door
price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out
it's sweet really, the friendship you have
it warms your heart thinking about it
and it warms his too
even if he won't admit it
he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to
because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend
and he's glad it's you
:)
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onlyhuis · 6 months
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bedroom exclusive
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member — actor bf!jun x f reader  genre — smut, (playful) angst, fluff word count — 3.9k  synopsis — seeing your boyfriend on tv kissing another girl definitely doesn't feel good, but he's got plenty of time to make it up to you. and he plans on letting you know that you're the only one on his mind.  smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, fingering, jun likes to be a tease, reader likes to be a brat, some jealousy but it's (mostly) pretend, all my fics have disgustingly happy endings i can't help it sorry notes — requested by @miwayu v this idea has been sitting in my inbox for 783 years but i have finally finished it !! big thanks to @onlymingyus for proofreading. i hope you enjoy!  
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"well, how come you never kiss me on the couch like that?"
jun crosses his arms with a huff. "first of all, yes i do, and second of all, it's not like the scene was my idea! i didn't write the script!"
he's right about everything, but you still can't help but feel upset. no, not upset: you have to admit to yourself that you're a little... jealous. jealous that everybody gets to see how your jun kisses someone, how he holds someone, how he closes his eyes and wraps his hands around and how he touches someone. it's exactly what he looks like when he's doing all of that with you, so watching your boyfriend do all of those things with someone who isn't you is jarring, to say the least. but at the end of the day you know it's acting, and that after the cameras are turned off and the staff goes home for the night, he's doing all of that for real with you and only you. but even though you're not really angry with him, you still feel like pouting.
you stay quiet, trying to think of something to say, but jun speaks. "baby, if it really has you so worked up, then why don't i just show you?"
his question catches you off guard, and you look over at him in suspicion. "show me what?"
but as soon as the question leaves your lips, jun is putting his arms around you and flipping you down onto the couch. everything happens so fast that you barely comprehend what's happening until your back is flat against the cushions and he's positioning himself on top of you, caging you in with his arms and his legs straddling either side of your hips. your heart races when you look up and see the familiar look in his eyes as he holds himself above you. 
you don't try to hide the whine that escapes you, and jun grins in satisfaction as he leans down, his face hovering just centimeters above yours. "show you what it's like to be under me, darling. no cameras, just you and me."
your eyebrows knit into a frown and you turn your cheek to the side, away from him.
he sighs, but your refusal just makes him even more determined to convince you otherwise. "come on, baby, don't act like that. it isn't real. this is real, and i know you know the difference."
he presses his lips against your neck, feeling the way your pulse jumps beneath your skin as he gently leaves a trail of kisses down your throat. your curiosity gets the better of you and you turn your head back to look at him, only to find him staring into your eyes, his fixed gaze never leaving you as he works his way across your neck. 
the familiar feeling of his large hands roaming your body makes your skin warm, and you do your best to ignore the traitorous rush of slick between your legs. you can only pretend to be mad for so long before you give in, and it's beginning to seem easier and easier with every move he makes, working you up in ways only he knows how. he knows your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly which buttons to press, knows exactly what to do to get you begging and pleading for more. 
but still you have the urge to fight him, not wanting to let him have the satisfaction of your pleasure just yet. "i don't know. it looked pretty real to me," you tease him.
he kisses a sensitive spot on your neck and sucks on it a little, gentle enough not to leave any marks but still more than enough to make you stifle a gasp. 
"are you being a brat on purpose, or are you really mad?" he asks, his voice a touch softer than before. he hopes you're not seriously upset, and he knows you like to make jokes, but if you're really hurt then maybe he needs to switch gears.
"both," you reply with a pout, but you lift one hand to run your fingers through his hair, a quiet reassurance that you're alright. "i'm really mad that you're not inside me yet."
his eyes light up, and he begins to suck at the spot on your neck harder, this time enough to bruise. "well, brats don't always get what they want right away," he says, and you shiver as his teeth graze over your skin. "right now i wanna take my time with you. so are you going to behave and let me do that, or are you going to keep acting like a brat and make me leave you with nothing?"
"i think you'll fuck me no matter what i act like," you say, and your hand trails down his stomach to feel where his cock strains against his pants, just as you suspected. he may know all your body's secrets, but you know just as much, if not more, about his. "because you love me too much. and you like this too much."
"but this isn't about me, baby," he hums, and the vibrations against your skin almost make you moan. "what i like doesn't matter right now. what matters is you deciding whether you're gonna keep playing these games, or if you're gonna let me fuck all those doubts out of your pretty head once and for all. it's your choice, sweetheart."
his trail of kisses moves back up your neck, but his lips stop short at your chin, clearly waiting for you to answer.
you pretend to think it over, narrowing your eyes in pretend thought, still refusing to give him the response he wants.
"why are you making this harder for yourself, baby? you know i love you," he whispers, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. "you have nothing to be mad about, because look where i am right now. i'm not with anybody else but you, and i don't want to be with anybody else but you. so drop the act, honey. i dropped mine."
you sigh out, both your hands finally coming to rest on the back of his neck. your fingers weave into his hair, twirling his locks between your fingertips until you can't take it anymore, breaking out into a smile that gives him the cue he was waiting for.
he leans down and finally pushes his mouth against yours, and your eyes flutter shut, your entire body relaxing at the familiar feeling. his nose presses against your cheek, his lips parted slightly as his hands hold the back of your neck, tangling in your hair splayed out across the couch. you let out a shaky breath and he swallows it, pushing his lips deeper into yours. 
his mouth moves slowly but his kisses are anything but gentle. his tongue prods at your upper lip and you welcome him, matching his pace and pulling him down towards you so you can wrap your arms around him to hold him tighter against your chest. 
he shifts above you, his knees straddling either side of you, and you can feel how hard he is. the image of him doing exactly this for millions of viewers flashes in your head, but any doubt is pushed out of your mind when he starts grinding his hips against your leg, groaning into your kiss. he might even be needier than you are right now, but you can't help teasing him just once more.
"is this bringing back fond memories?" you break away from his mouth to say, breathing heavily.
"shut up," he bites back, then exhales sharply. his voice is low when he speaks again. "the day we filmed that scene, all i could think about was you. it was the day we were supposed to have dinner at your parents' house, but i made you lie about being sick so we could stay home and i could fuck you in every room in the house instead. i didn't mention it at the time because i thought it'd kill the mood, but trust me when i say the only memories i have of that day are about you."
air catches in your throat and you glance up at him, but the look in his eyes is serious. he didn't tell you much about his schedules and  exactly which scenes he was filming on which day, so there was no way to tell what was happening on set unless you were there personally. you remember this particular day well— more accurately, you remember the days afterward that you'd walked with a limp.
"i thought you did it because you didn't want to have to eat my mom's overcooked chicken again," you respond, trying to cover your surprise with a breathless laugh.
"i did it because i wouldn't have been able to sit at that table and not think about fucking you on top of it," he says, and you can feel the heat creeping into your cheeks at the thought. "now, stop bringing it up, or i'll have to fuck that bratty attitude out of you."
"what if i want you to, though?" you retort. "maybe i need more convincing."
his nostrils flare, and he pushes his mouth against yours once more, drinking in the desperate sounds that leave your lips. "we both know you're a liar, but i'd still be happy to change your mind."
one of his hands trails down your chest, then your stomach, before finally stopping just below your belly button. you're sure he must be able to feel the heat radiating from between your legs, but he doesn't move, just rests his hand on top of your pants.
he stays still for a moment, and the way his hand hovers unpredictably makes your heart race, waiting for him to do something. suddenly he cups your clothed pussy without warning, and you moan out his name, the sound muffled by his lips as he kisses you harder. he relishes in the way your hips buck up against his hand.
he's in love with how you're already so desperate after just a few kisses, but he isn't faring any better himself; the weight of his cock aches, straining against his pants and against the side of your leg. it's almost embarrassing how you're both so needy for each other, yet he couldn't even begin to imagine anything hotter than this moment here with you.
maybe the directors had been onto something with those scenes. if anything, it just gives him more material to do with you. his mind wanders, running through each scene in his head and picturing it differently. kissing you on the kitchen counter, kissing you on the table, kissing you against the wall, kissing you on the bed, kissing you in the park, kissing you in the rain… so many possibilities, and he can't wait to try every single one with you.
it's not until you break apart from him, whimpered words tumbling out of your mouth as you plead with him to touch you, that he comes back to reality. those kisses can wait for another time. 
he plants a quick kiss on your upper lip before slipping his hand underneath the waistband of your pants. you exhale a sigh of relief at the feeling of his fingers on you, pushing your pants down your hips and kicking them away to give him better access.
"you're so wet already, baby," jun hums, swiping his finger over your dripping entrance and grinning when you shiver. "you like kissing me this much, huh?"
you manage to shake your head. "i like knowing you think about me when you're supposed to be kissing someone else," you breathe.
"i'm always thinking about you, sweetheart."
just like his mouth, his fingers start out gentle, running up and down through your folds and rubbing tiny circles around your clit. the warmth of his hand mixes with the warmth between your legs, and a shiver runs down your spine, already feeling the tension building in your stomach.
but soon it becomes not enough and you're just about to start begging him for more, but without you even having to ask he pushes the tip of his index finger into your pussy.
"fuck…" you moan against his lips, struggling to catch your breath. "i could cum just from that, jun, please—"
"mm, should i let you? or should i make you wait, from all this attitude you've been giving me?" he asks, pushing his finger deeper into you.
you can't even give him an answer, but he must decide to let you off easy this time, because he slides another finger into you. you moan, pulling his head closer to kiss him as his fingers start to move faster.
your eyes are squeezed so tightly shut it makes you dizzy, and you can feel your teeth knocking against jun's, but you're so lost you barely notice it.
he adds a third finger and instantly you feel yourself falling into the pleasure, clenching around him.
you frantically tear your lips from his, moaning and panting and gasping for breath as your high overtakes every part of your body. a rush of wetness pours from you, gushing out over his fingers as he continues to thrust them in and out of you, the added pressure of his thumb on your clit prolonging your orgasm. 
it takes a few moments but finally you come back down to earth, the feeling of the couch cushions under your back reminding you where you are and what you're doing. jun lays on top of you, his fingers still buried in your cunt and his mouth leaving kisses all over your face as you wait for your breath to return to you.
with a content sigh you push on his shoulder to make him sit up, and he kisses you once more before he leans away.
"are you comfortable?" he asks, and you look up at him in confusion at the question.
"very comfortable after that," you tell him with a giggle, propping yourself up on your elbows. "but otherwise yes. why?"
he smiles. "just wondering if you wanted to move to the bed. or the floor, if you feel like."
you purse your lips, giving him a pout. "i thought you said you were gonna fuck me on the couch?"
"clearly you still have the energy to be a brat, so my work here isn't done yet," he grins. "couch it is, then."
he pulls his shirt off in one quick motion before reaching down for your clothes, but you barely even notice him lifting your arms to slide you out of your shirt.
you've seen him shirtless hundreds of times by now, but he never fails to take your breath away. it's been too long since you've had a moment to stare like this anyway so you take full advantage of the opportunity, your gaze fixated on the sight of his bare chest and the way his muscles flex with movement. have his arms gotten bigger? they've definitely gotten bigger.
"like what you see?" he laughs when he notices you watching him, and you smack his arm playfully. he's corny, but you couldn't love him more.
"i do. and i'm not afraid to admit it."
"still mad you're not the only one who gets to see it?" he teases.
"mm, a little," you exhale. "but i'm the only one who can see it every day, in person, whenever i want. so at the end of the day it doesn't really matter what they see, does it?"
he stands up and pushes his pants down, a smile playing on his lips. "that's my good girl."
you can't help but continue to ogle him as he strips, the outline of his cock against his briefs so defined you can practically taste it.
"do you want to be on top, or me?" he asks, and your eyes belatedly move back up to his face.
"i thought you were gonna fuck the brat out of me, junnie," you tease him playfully. "how can you do that if i'm on top?"
he scoffs. "last time i ever offer you a choice, then. maybe i should just fuck your mouth instead, since you seem to think you're getting your way here."
"you say that like it's a bad thing," you laugh. "like i don't beg you to let me suck you off, like, twice a day."
"well, unlucky for you, that's not happening today," he says, and finally pushes his underwear down. his cock springs free and you groan, any argument you had instantly dying on your lips at the sight.
you know the look of lust on your face is blatantly obvious, but you couldn't care less. not when your boyfriend's gorgeous cock is mere inches away, yours and yours alone to see. it finally sinks in that all the scenes from his drama were just pretend sex, while you're having real sex. and boy, does it make your stomach flutter.
jun knows you all too well, knows how you get when you're around him and how you lose all control at just the sight of him naked. and he adores it. being naked in front of cameras and crew members made him shy, but being naked in front of you made him the proudest man in the world. the way you look at him as if he's the only person you've ever seen; he can practically see the stars in your eyes, and that alone is worth more than billions of strangers seeing him on a screen.
he drinks in every second of your reactions. the way your breath stutters when he leans over to wrap one of your legs around his waist, the way you shiver when he runs his hand along your thigh and the way your hands immediately find their way to his head as you try to pull him down towards you.
he can tell in the way your attitude has changed that you aren't mad (or even pretend-mad) at him anymore, and he takes this as his sign to bend down and kiss you again. 
"do you believe me now?" he whispers, his warm cheek pressed against yours. you close your eyes and feel the vibrations from his voice against your face, your grip on his hair tightening as you hold him as close as you possibly can.
"believe what?" you ask softly, though you already know what he's referring to.
jun hums. "that you're the only one i love."
"i never doubted that for a second."
he pushes his lips against yours and you swallow him, the both of you growing more desperate and more restless as he grinds his hips against yours.
you kiss him until you can't anymore, leaning your neck back against the couch seat with a breathless moan.
he moves his lips downwards, momentarily stopping between your breasts before he quickly sits back on his heels, angling his cock between your legs with practiced ease. 
it takes seconds for him to slide into you, a whine stuck in your throat at the pulsing feeling inside you. he pulls his hips back slowly, nearly slipping out before he pounds back into you. 
your hands yank him down again and he falls flat against your chest, quickly finding the best position to hold you as he continues to thrust into you.
his hands sit beside your head, cupping your cheeks as he pants and gasps and groans your name.
sweat-drenched pieces of jun's hair dangle above your face, but the only thing you see is the way he looks at you, his intense gaze communicating things far beyond words.
"jun…" you manage, everything else failing you as you melt into his touch. your body is on fire, there's so much you want to say and do but your head is spinning.
jun pulls you into another deep kiss and you let your eyes fall shut, letting him take over, mouths moving together so you can't tell where he ends and you begin.
"fuck, you're so perfect," he curses, his thrusts growing faster. "so beautiful."
"all mine, junnie," you moan, the only words you can remember. you're barely thinking about what leaves your mouth but you know exactly what you want to say, 
"i know, baby. i'm all yours," he pants, desperately kissing you anywhere his lips will reach. "nobody else's. yours."
it doesn't take much longer for the knot in your stomach to tighten until you can't hold back anymore. "so close, jun, please, 'm gonna cum," you choke out.
"just wait for me baby, just hold on," he pleads, and he shifts his hips just slightly to fuck into you at a different angle.
all it takes is just the way you say his name, the way you look up at him with lips swollen from his kisses, the way your brows knit together in concentration as you try your best to hold back your orgasm for him. the way he's so fervently yours, and he doesn't have to act or pretend or be anything less than a hundred percent genuine about the way he loves you and you love him.
your whole body shudders as you cum, spasming around him until it triggers his own orgasm and he lets go with a groan. his hips jerk as warmth floods your abdomen, and it seems like it goes on forever as he shivers in sensitivity.
he exhales, and you kiss his cheek gently as you feel him breathe against your chest.
after a minute he shifts his arms around you, still holding you as he sits upright and pulls you onto his lap, his cock still inside of you.
your head falls into the crook of his neck with a sigh, thoroughly spent. there's plenty of things you probably should be doing now, but it feels so nice to just sit and rest, feeling full and satisfied.
"i would say that was much more fun than filming for the show," jun says finally with a little giggle.
you hum, cheek still resting against his shoulder. "enough about the show. i have the real thing right here."
he grins. "so you admit you're not mad at me."
"how could i ever be mad at you, when you fuck me like that?"
"i know," he says proudly. "i just wanted to hear you say it. i'm a really good actor, aren't i?"
collecting the last of your strength, you sit back and pretend to glare at him, to which he responds with another giggle and a kiss to your nose.
"whatever," you tell him as he tucks a piece of your hair out of your face. "take me to shower and show me more of those scenes, and then i'll believe you."
but he's already standing up, keeping hold of your legs wrapped around his waist as he carries you down the hall. "oh, with pleasure."
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2K notes · View notes
literaila · 6 months
Note
hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?
lipstick
warnings: ugh, peter
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*
“how many times have you done that?”
peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.
you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”
“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”
you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.
instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”
“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”
“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”
“yes, and yes.”
it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.
he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”
you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”
“weird? how am i being weird?”
“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”
“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”
“you’re following me.”
peter smiles. “well, i like you.”
you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”
“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.
“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”
he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”
“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”
he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”
“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”
“‘s probably why i like it so much.”
his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.
“peter, we have to go.”
“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”
“i’m aware.”
you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.
“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.
“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.
“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.
“no.”
“how come?”
you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”
“you have more, don’t you?”
“not the point.”
“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”
“no, i do not.”
you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.
“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.
you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”
“i think we are.”
“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.
“that is a terrible compromise.”
“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”
peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”
“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”
“then how come we haven’t left yet?”
you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.
your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.
he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”
“are you british all of the sudden?”
peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”
“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”
“no clue what you mean, dear.”
you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.
“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”
“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”
“that’s one option.”
you roll your eyes again.
“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”
“shove it, peter.”
“you don’t even want to hear it?”
you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”
peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.
the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.
“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.
“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.
and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.
you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.
but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.
you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.
but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.
and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”
“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”
peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”
“and you’re making it up to me later.”
“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.
you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.
*
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chaotic-birds · 8 months
Text
be with you || j.pt
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Jason wakes up in the middle of the night and you're not there.
🌙 Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (gn)
🌙 Genres/AUs: Fluff, (emotional) hurt/comfort, established relationship
🌙 Warning(s): mention of kidnapping
🌙 Word Count: 1.1k
🌙 Author's Note: I have so many Jason Todd fic ideas 😵‍💫 For now, I decided to just write this. I normally don't post such short fics, but I want to get used to doing so. Sometimes I just wanna write without thinking of intensive plots 😪 That being said, please enjoy this little fluff piece! Sometimes, we just need some fluff in our lives. Also, this is my first Jason fic after a few years so… 😬 (im a lil nervous)
masterlist
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When Jason turns to his other side to pull you against him, his eyes fly open.
Your side of the bed is empty.
And cold.
Which means it’s been a while since you left.
You left.
Did you leave or did someone take you?
Jason’s distressed eyes scan the bedroom. There’s no sign of a struggle. Plus, he would at least hope he’d wake up to the commotion if something like that happened.
But if you didn’t get kidnapped, where did you go?
Worry fills his chest and his heart pumps faster at the influx of questions in his head.
All the doubt about whether he’s making you happy clouds his mind. Had he said something yesterday that had upset you? Are you not happy with him anymore? Did someone better come into your life?
Jason groans and rakes his hands through his hair, tugging roughly at the ends to feel something other than uneasiness.
His hands fall to his sides when he sees your belongings at your vanity.
That’s a good sign, right? Maybe you didn’t leave him after all.
Jason slides off the bed and heads out of the bedroom.
“Babe?” he calls.
There’s no answer.
He wanders to the bathroom. Empty.
He goes to the living room. Empty.
Finally, he goes to your home office.
You’re sat in your chair with your headset on, fingers clacking against the keyboard.
The heavyweight he had put on his shoulders instantly lifted. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
He takes three large steps before he encloses his arms around you from behind.
You yelp, jumping and hitting your head against his jaw.
He grunts at having bit the inside of his cheek in the process.
Although your arms are glued to your sides, you tilt your head and lift a hand as high as it can go to remove your headset.
“Jay?” you question. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”
He shakes his head and nuzzles his face against your neck more.
You lax in his arms, rubbing along his forearms and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Why are you awake then?” you wonder after a while.
“You weren’t in bed,” he mumbles.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “I forgot I had to finish something for work.”
“But it’s half past three. Can’t it wait?”
“Sadly, no,” you sigh.
Carefully, you try to pull apart his arms to free yourself. Jason refuses to let you do so.
“Baby,” you laugh softly when he holds you tighter. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be done in a bit.”
“No,” he grumbles.
Knowing he won’t give up, at least not easily, you nod. “Alright then. Should I bring in another chair for you?”
Jason shakes his head and finally lets go. He slides your chair back slightly and sinks to the floor in front of you.
Your legs part when he makes a home between them, wrapping his arms around your hips and resting his head on top of your thigh.
“Comfy?” you ask with a small smile, slightly amused.
He simply hums and closes his eyes.
Your gaze lingers on him before you focus on your work once more. You hurry more now, wanting to get back to bed with Jason.
A few minutes have passed when Jason speaks again.
“I-I thought you left me,” he whispers.
Your hands pause in their movement.
“Oh Jace,” you begin gently and place a hand against his cheek.
His eyes flutter open at your touch. His blue eyes are filled with worry and fear.
“I would never leave you.”
His eyes move between yours, trying to find a reason not to believe you. There’s that rotten side of him that tells him he doesn’t deserve to have company. That it’s inevitable for him to be alone.
“Unless you want me to,” you add.
He shakes his head aggressively. “Don’t say that.”
You smile softly at him. “Then it’s a done deal. You’re mine until the end of time.”
Jason cracks a small smile at your words, lifting his head.
“I like the sound of that,” he says.
Your grin grows. “I do too.”
Jason leans up, and you meet him halfway for a tender kiss.
“I’ve still got more to do. You want to go to bed now?” you ask once you pull away.
“Nope, I’m staying,” he replies, resting his head back on your leg.
His tone sounds lighter now, making your heart warm. Although you love all sides of Jason, this may be your favorite one.
Happy. Soft. Vulnerable.
After forty more minutes, you finally finish.
Jason has fallen asleep and has filled the room with his light snores. Some of his hair lays on his face, some of it slightly ruffled from sleeping in the bed earlier.
Cute.
You bring a hand to his hair, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You scratch at his scalp gently to wake him.
His eyes open, drooping and groggily.
“I’m done, let’s go to bed now,” you say.
He nods and slowly stands up from the floor. He sways a little on tired legs.
“Come on, sleepy head,” you tease lightly and grab his hand.
He lets you guide him back to the bedroom. You sit him down on the edge then gesture in the direction of the bathroom.
“I need to pee; you gonna come with me or will you stay here?” you question.
Jason frowns but nods. “If you take longer than five minutes, I’m coming in.”
You laugh and kiss the crown of his head. “If you say so.”
You know he’s being honest so you rush. Luckily, you make it in time for him not to come get you.
Jason hasn’t moved from when you left. He’s staring at the doorway, feet thumping rhythmically against the floor.
“You’re so needy tonight,” you observe and climb into bed. Jason scoots back until he’s beside you.
“I just miss you,” he sighs, pulling you against him like he originally wanted to do.
You lean back against his chest to feel him more.
“I’ve missed you too, Jay,” you reply.
There's been a rise in crime lately, which resulted in Jason being out in the field more than usual. However, it feels as if there’s a break and you and Jason are making the most of it. You’re sure he will be summoned again soon.
Jason snuggles your body more—if possible—and kisses the back of your head.
“We’re so sleeping in today,” he mumbles, a slight groan accompanying his words.
You giggle. “I can’t protest that.”
“Hm, good,” he says. “Goodnight, baby.”
Smiling, you echo, “Goodnight, Jay.”
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©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.
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strawberrystepmom · 8 months
Text
nsfw - mdni. cw pregnancy mention but only as a joke (calls reader a MILF), marriage discussion. f!reader (has breasts, is refers to with feminine terms), gojo and reader are in a “semi established” relationship aka idiots in love. self ship coded. wc 1.1k
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“Do you really think right now is the time for this discussion, Satoru?”
Your knees are pulled to your chest to make room for your almost comically oversized boyfriend in your apartments’ barely big enough for one bathtub. He’s all limbs and broad shoulders and big arms and the sight, while delectable, makes you feel annoyed as you try to soak away what remains of your own post-mission injuries.
There’s a laceration on your right elbow, a blooming bruise on the opposite bicep, a slash on your thigh. The worst of it was handled back at the school thanks to Shoko but you refused further treatment, knowing a nice soak and rest would fix you up. Gojo showed up unexpectedly as soon as he heard you’d been roughed up today, holding your hand reassuringly the entire time.
You should have known better that his offer to take you home and immediately leave was not as listed on the label. He entered your apartment, kicked off his shoes, and followed you straight to the bathroom without a single word. It’s how you ended up here.
“No time like the present if you ask me. Every other time I’ve asked you’ve said "let's talk about it later” and now it’s later.”
Sighing, you listen to the gentle slosh of the warm water over the lip of the tub as he slides in behind you. Two long legs frame your body and you lean back against him, back pressed to his chest while he reaches around and cups each of your goosebump prickled breasts and squeezes them playfully.
“You’re asking me to marry you while squeezing my tits and making honking noises? Am I getting that right?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, yes.”
He chuckles and kisses your jaw, right beneath your ear. It’s his favorite spot, so unassuming yet so intimate. He knows you dab a little perfume there to give him something to look forward to and despite the stress and soil of the day, he sniffs hard and presses an additional kiss.
You reward him with a giggle and he leans over the top of your head, wrapping himself around you and gently running his fingers along the little reminders of how rough today was on you.
It motivates him to press his question even further.
“We don’t have to get married tomorrow, you know. We’ve been at this for long enough that we can wait but it’s time, babe.”
You want to understand his thinking but continually come up short, wondering why he wants something so permanent all of a sudden. Maybe it’s getting older, maybe it’s wanting to have someone to come home to that is more than his semi live-in girlfriend. So without thinking too deeply about it, you ask.
“This isn’t a no or anything so don’t immediately jump there,” you rush to clarify before speaking what’s on your mind lest he get the wrong idea. “But why? Why now?”
The answers are so clear to Satoru that he doesn’t have to think about them for a moment more, instead rubbing his thumb gently around the blue outline of the bruise on your arm.
“I could ask you the same. Why not? Why are you so convinced marrying me would be bad?”
Marriage used to be something he considered would be a burden. Love seemed like the least likely reason he’d marry, perhaps instead marrying reluctantly one day for the sake of his clan or to have kids or something. It never had romantic connotations until the day he realized he wanted to marry you.
Three years ago, a night not that dissimilar to the one the two of you are currently sharing, the realization hit him like a speeding train he couldn’t avoid. It was a culmination of nearly ten years worth of feelings, sure, but he knew as sure as he knew his own heart that you were it. The One, as they say.
Your injuries that night were worse than these ones and Shoko privately shared her concerns with him that your left arm would never fully recover from where it was snapped clean above the elbow. She did everything she could to heal it and you were confined to a sling for several weeks.
He was all too eager to come and take care of you, a little taste of what waking up and falling asleep next to you every day was enough to easily confirm you were it. You are it, still, years later and many long nights and early mornings since. Your grumpy mornings, your lazy afternoons, your evenings spent counting the stars twinkling lazily above your heads on the little adjoining balcony you spent most of your time on.
He was already in love with you, hanging on your every word and vying for every piece of attention you’d give him, but he knew that the rest of his life would be senseless if he couldn’t spend it by your side. Seeing you be so fallible, so painfully human and fragile, terrified him but it motivated him just as much.
Here he sits, still motivated to make you his forever, and he says he isn’t a romantic.
Scoffing, you turn your head to look up at him and gauge how he’s feeling. His face is impassive, brow raised, and suddenly you feel guilty for making him think the reason you’re apprehensive about marriage is him. It isn’t him, it never has been. It’s you.
“Marrying you would be the best thing to ever happen to me, Satoru but I don’t think it would be the best thing to ever happen to you.”
Now it’s his turn to scoff incredulously, pulling your head against his chest so he can rest his chin on top of it. The water sloshes even more and you shift, trying to avoid the friction from your half damp skin against his but there’s no use. He’ll take a little pain if it means he gets to have you this close.
“I know it would be the best thing to happen to me. Ever. In all my life.”
You laugh, shaking your head and wincing as you bend your elbow and the soreness catches up with you. He moves to cradle your arm gently in one of his palms, using the other to keep your cheek pressed to his chest.
“I’m afraid you’ve finally convinced me,” you whisper and he laughs. You wince again as he shifts and drags you with him, water splashing over the edge of the tub while he situates you in his lap facing him the best that he can. Your chest presses against his and you’re face to face, his eyes searching you for any trace of second thoughts.
“You mean it?”
You cup his cheeks in your palms and nod, a coy smile breaking into a grin to mirror his own as he pulls your left hand away from his face and pulls it to his mouth to kiss the back of your ring finger.
“Yes, I’ll marry you. I’d be honored to be your wife even if I think you’re setting yourself up for a lifetime of disappointment.”
Dropping your hand, he slides his arms around your torso and picks you up squealing and thrashing while water drips off of your bodies and back into the tub below. It’s a distraction tactic, of course, to keep you from delving any further into your own fears and doubts, but a man will do what a man must to make his fiancé smile.
“I think I’m setting myself up for a lifetime of laughing and great food and watching you turn into a MILF.”
Snorting, you swat his chest playfully with one hand and reach for the towels on the rack next to you with the other. You dry his hair first, giggling with each funny face he makes until you finish and wrap the towel around his shoulders.
“Are you threatening to turn me into a MILF, sir?”
The blood rushes from his head further downward as he pictures the insinuation you’re making and he smiles devilishly.
“If that’s what you want, consider it a promise.”
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kinzis-writing · 5 months
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Better than Revenge | M.R [2]
Y/N vowed to herself that she would get her revenge on her ex-boyfriend. The only question was, how would she get her revenge? What better way than to involve his best friend. After all, the worst thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.
Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby, Ex! Theodore Nott x Y/N Nettleby.
Warning(s): Mentions of cheating.
ii. “Wake up and smell the break up, fix my heart put on my makeup.”
Chapter One
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"Who could possibly be better than you?" Hermione questioned as Y/N and the friend group sat around the table at breakfast. News had gotten around that Theo had broken up with the Gryffindor and the Slytherins had now turned their backs on Y/N. It didn't bother her; she had only ever hung around with her brother and Theo's friends.
"Please, it has nothing to do with Y/N." Ginny stated before taking a drink of pumpkin juice. "Theodore's a git and we all know it." She finished with a simple shoulder shrug.
Y/N opened her mouth to reply but closed her mouth when her attention was caught by her ex-boyfriend entering the dining hall. A black-haired Slytherin girl hanging on his arm. The Gryffindor girl quirked an eyebrow up in disbelief as the two sauntered their way to the Slytherin table and towards his ex's brother.
Y/N glanced over at her brother, only to lock eye with Mattheo who was wearing an indecipherable emotion. "Hey," Hermione spoke softly to get the girls attention away from Theo and the Slytherin table. "Let's get out of here." she offered as she went to stand up.
Y/N shook her head as she grabbed her arm and yanked her back in her seat, "If we leave, it will attract eyes and he will think he hurt me." The Nettleby girl explained as she turned her gaze back to her food.
"But he did..." Ron trailed off confused before Ginny kicked him under the table.
"I'm not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that."
Y/N had left breakfast with Hermione, Harry and Ron. They went back to the dormitories so they could grab their books and bags for class. The fact that Y/N had rushed her last couple homework assignments made her realize how much she depended on Theo. No matter what, she shouldn't let what Theo did affect her daily life. Yet, it affected her everyday she woke up.
"You're going to be okay." Y/N mumbled to herself before she followed Hermione to the first class of the day. It was the class that she had with Theo and a few others of the friend group. Hermione had sat beside Neville Longbottom after the Nettleby girl had begged her to switch with Theo. "Remind me to never tell you to switch with my boyfriends." The girl told Hermione before they walked into the class.
"I tried to tell you." Hermione mumbled before taking her seat beside Neville. The two of them talking about what they will be learning today.
Y/N rolled her eyes and made her way to her normal seat. She was hoping that Theo and his friends would skip class, like they sometimes did. Theo had tried to get her to skip as well but she refused, saying she cared about her grades. Getting her books out, she decided to read what they would be learning today to get an idea of what they would be doing.
A loud thud broke the Gryffindor girl out of her reading with a jump. "Fancy seeing you here." Y/N groaned at the voice that she had known all too well.
"Mattheo, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked sarcastically with a slight glare before going back to her book. She was unsure as to why the heir of Slytherin was sitting right next to her, or why he was even in class anyway. "Shouldn't you be out on the lawn, smoking during class?"
Mattheo raised an eyebrow with an amused grin growing on his face. "Keeping tabs on me, darling?" He teased as he sat down beside the girl that he had known since their first year. "If you wanted me instead of Theo you could've just asked."
Y/N rolled her eyes before glancing up at the boy that she was previously used to. There was a time when Y/N and Mattheo were friends, no one knows how close they were. Something had happened, and Mattheo turned a cold shoulder with no warning.
"Can I help you with something?" She snapped not feeling like dealing with the Slytherins and their attitudes today. "I am not playing into your games today, Riddle."
Mattheo's gaze softened a bit noticing the look on her face, before he quickly wiped it off and returned to his normal emotional state. "What's your plan?" The boy asked as he leaned over to his best friend's ex.
"What are you talking about?" She asked as she quickly jotted down notes about what she had read. Only the parts that she felt was really important.
Mattheo rolled his eyes, seeing right through the girl that he knew. "How are you getting back at Theo?" He asked again as he leaned a bit closer.
Y/N scoffed and shook her head, "how old am I? five." She spoke trying to play off her real emotions. The Riddle boy gave her a look before she sighed, "I had a few ideas." she shrugged finally giving in. "I don't want him back, so making him jealous is pointless." She whispered only for the Slytherin to hear. "I'm just going to move on." shrugged.
Mattheo scoffed, "That's it?" He asked. "How will that do anything."
Y/N rolled her eyes before putting all her attention towards the boy in front of her. She didn't know how trustworthy he was now, but she knows that he kept their old friendship a secret. Hopefully he would keep this conversation a secret. "Enzo has a soft spot for me, so I was going to ask him to be part of it." She shrugged. "it'll hurt worse with his friend involved." she added.
The professor has walked in talking to the class and went over a part of the chapter before giving the paired-up students a project to work on. "Don't you think it would hurt worse with his best friend?" Mattheo spoke up quietly, trying to see the girl's reaction.
"What are you getting at?" Y/N asked even though she felt as if she already knew what he was going to say.
"Use me instead of Enzo." He suggested which caused Y/N to laugh and shake her head a bit. "At least we used to be close." he whispered, acting like he wasn't paying attention to her reaction.
"What's in it for you?" She asked trying to decipher why he cared so much. Mattheo didn't catch feelings for people, yes, she had heard about him having one-night stands and girls he toyed with.
"let's just say," Mattheo spoke softly as he continued looking at the project before glancing back up at her. "I have my reasons." he finished.
🪄
"Absolutely not, are you out of your mind?" Hermione scolded as the golden trio, Y/N, and Ginny sat around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Y/N had just told them her plan and the conversation that she had with Mattheo during class. She knew it was a reach including them in on what she wanted to do, strictly because Mattheo's family. "This is worse than Theodore!" She insisted.
Y/N rolled her eyes slightly knowing that her friends would be against it. "You're forgetting the family that I come from." The girl muttered as she kept her gaze on the orange and yellows hues of the fire.
Hermione looked at the group around her, trying to get someone and anyone to agree with her. To Gryffindor's and the other houses, Mattheo Riddle was intimidating and charming. He came off as rude, cocky, and self-absorbed. Yet, Y/N knew that it wasn't who he was, or at least who he used to be.
"Do you honestly think Riddle is capable of helping you without something in return?" Ginny asked carefully as she glanced around the group.
Ron scoffed at his sister, "of course not. you know where he came from." the Weasley boy spoke in disgust.
Y/N sighed at that and ran a hand down her face. She knew all too well what people thought if they go by family trees. "And you guys know where I came from." she countered.
"That's different." Harry finally spoke up, thinking about the situation at hand. "The sorting hat knew what was right, so it's clear that you aren't like them."
"Says the one that was writing to Mattheo's dad, in his dad's journal with no thought about who he was." Y/N shot back. Tired of her friends being rude to someone they did not truly know. She didn't even know why she was defending him. She hadn't even properly talked to him since she had gotten with Theo, he had just passed a few snarky comments to her and went on his way.
The friends went quiet for a few minutes so they could try and sort out their feelings so nothing would be said. The last thing they wanted to do was to break up the friend group and all be fighting.
Y/N sighed, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry for being so worked up. I just know how my family is going to be once word reaches that Theodore and I broke up." She mumbled.
Coming from a family of Slytherins and death eaters, it was clear that his followers would do anything to get him back. Along with raise their kids to do dirty work and be one of them as well. Y/N was hoping that dating a Slytherin, especially from the Nott family, that her parents would get off her back about being a disappointment.
Hermione gave a small smile to her best friend, "I'm sorry." She apologized too. "It's none of my business what you do. I just don't want everything to fall apart."
"I can handle my own." Y/N promised as the group resumed back to their previous antics before the talk about the plan came about.
Early the next morning Y/N had gotten herself ready for the day. Many of the witches and wizards were going to Hogsmeade today, so she had decided to spend the day alone. She always went to Hogsmeade on weekends to spend time with her friends, but lately it had been almost like a third wheel, well, fifth wheel. So, when the time came, she had promised her friends that she did not want to go, and she had bid them goodbye after assuring them to have fun.
She had lounged around the common room, until she had gotten bored of doing the same things and decided to wander a bit. It was always a breath of fresh air when taking a walk around the castle and with most people gone, it could be quite relaxing. When walking about looking at the scenery, everything looked so peaceful and beautiful.
"We're going to get caught." a familiar voice had caught the attention of the Gryffindor girl. Her walking has slow and she came to a halt at the corner, carefully peaking her head around to see who was talking.
"Oh, please, since when do you care?" A nasally voice asked before going back to whatever she was trying to do. "You didn't complain when you cheated on your girlfriend with me in a classroom."
The man, who Y/N had now identified as Theo, scoffed. "A classroom is a bit more private than the hallways." He muttered.
Before Y/N could hear what, his new girlfriend was saying back, a voice caused the girl to jump. "Eavesdropping, love?" The voice of the Slytherin came out smooth. "Didn't anyone ever tell you how rude that is?"
Y/N rolled her eyes turning the face the curly haired boy. She had been wanting to find him since last night but had debated against it. "I simply came across them on my walk." she spoke truthfully as she turned to fully face Mattheo.
Mattheo's eyebrows shot up, "that's a bloody lie." he muttered loud enough for the girl to hear. She scoffed before rolling her eyes and leaning against the wall. "It won't last." Y/N's eyebrows furrowed at what he was talking about. "If Theo couldn't keep a relationship with you, he won't keep one."
"What do you mean by that?" Y/N asked as she eyed the boy in front of her curiously. Maybe Theo had not told the boys why they broke up because she was sure that they would make fun on her for it.
Mattheo shrugged keeping his lips in a tight line and scooting a bit closer to Y/N. "They're coming." he muttered. "Did you make up your mind?" He asked referring to what they had talked about in class.
"You." Was the only statement she could get out before he quickly placed a hand on her cheek as his best friend turned the corner.
Y/N and Mattheo's eyes quickly shot up to Theo's and the Slytherin girl that he had cheated with. Mattheo had faux annoyance, while Y/N looked nervous. Theo looked angry and his new toy had a surprised look on her face.
"Can I assist you with something?" Mattheo asked as the couple just stood there, not saying a word to the two. "I was busy, if you couldn't tell."
"When did this happen?" The Slytherin girl asked as if she knew exactly who both of the boys were and what they would or wouldn't do. "It's hard to believe that you would go for a Gryffindor." she added.
Mattheo rolled his eyes and took his hand off Y/N's cheek. He stayed close to her so he could ensure to play whatever part. "Just testing the waters." he shrugged before glancing at Theo and noticing his jaw clenched, a smirk grew noticing that.
"Y/N, can I have a word?" Theo asked as his gaze stayed locked in a war with Mattheo.
Y/N glanced between the two boys as she leaned forward and grabbed Mattheo's arm. To calm him down and also to say that she wasn't leaving without him. "I don't think that necessary." she replied back her hand moving down to Mattheo's. "We'll just get out of your way."
Without another glance she turned away from the couple and tugged Mattheo along with her. She didn't want to be around Theo or his toy.
Y/N let out a huff once they had lost sight of her ex-boyfriend, "Why does he have to be such an arse?" she mumbled with an eye roll. It was clear that Mattheo was watching her, maybe to see her reaction or to see if she had anything else to say. After getting her emotions under control she looked up and met her gaze with the boy in front of her, his warm eyes looking back in hers. "What are we doing? No one is going to believe that we started dating." she explained.
Mattheo thought for a moment, "Then we start spending time together, to make it known that we are around each other." He spoke trying to think of an idea that will make it seem real. "I'll meet you outside your common room every morning, we'll have meals together."
Y/N snorted at that before realizing that the boy in front of her was serious. "There is no way I am having breakfast or dinner at the Slytherin table." She refused.
"Do you want to make this believable or not?" Mattheo asked Y/N, trying to get her to see the reason behind then spending meals together.
She nodded, "fine. How about classes? I see that you replaced Theo as my partner in my classes. You guys barely come to class anyway." She explained as she had noticed how Theo had moved over to sit with someone else in class. "That's not even a concern right now though, how are we going to pull off dating? I mean, couples..." Y/N trailed off hoping that he was getting what she meant.
Couples showed plenty of public displays of affection. Especially when they have the biggest "bad boy" and "heartthrob" hanging on their arm. So, it was a given for the two. "Whatever you're comfortable with, love." he shrugged.
Y/N thought for a moment, her cheeks slightly turning red at the thought. Gaining a bit of confidence she spoke, "Everything." She told him. "Whatever you want."
Part three
819 notes · View notes
yandere-kokeshi · 1 month
Text
Warnings: Yandere, Hybrid AU, male reader, anal sex, creampie.
This is not edited, I also got this idea from @konigsblog! Love her, sm /a <3
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I can’t stop thinking about Dragon! Price using his strong tail during sex. Doesn’t matter where or how. His tail has to be involved in some way.
Of course, he uses it during cuddling. Different ways to bring you closer. Or how he grabs objects near you two, especially if it's portays your very cock.
He mostly uses it on your cock and balls, or his very own, or your tight hole.
It’s messy. But it’s how he likes it, no?
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As of now, John is jumping on your cock, hands on your shoulders as he bounces up and down, his sharp teeth nipping and biting deep into your neck.
John lickes the wounds, sucking the swollen skin even more as you groan out; pain and pleasure were an odd thing to mix. Yet, he feels so good, so well fitted for your large cock.
Lost in the vast of pleasure, you never seem to notice his sly tail until it’s too late; curving around your muscled cheeks.
You gasp. Moaning at the continuous abuse of your beloved dragon and the fact of not expecting the cold scales against your naked globe or the warmth coming from John’s breath.
"What—" you begin, "Why– fuck...— the tail?"
John chuckles, slowing down his pace as his slitted, reptilian eyes look at yours. "It has its own mind, yeah?"
You made a small sound, a mix of a groan and eep before feeling the thick appendage begin to circle around your puckered hole.
It really did have a mind of its own, didn’t it?
John couldn’t help but smile, beginning to pick up his own speed while he’s perched up on top of you — hands still hooked upon and around your shoulders for balance as he leaned forward.
Dragging his erect cock against your tummy, he spreads his cum. His smell,
You’re such a good mate taking him so well, yet he decides to add something to the mix. Letting him add his other body – his tail – inside you. Curling your toes all handsomely as you adjust to its length.
You grit your teeth, heaving as a light layer of sweat litters both of your bodies.
"Lemme enter, hm?" John hums nicely, and you can’t refuse him. So you do, so oh gently.
He suppresses a sound – feeling even more heated. You, on the other hand, have your eyes tightly closed and moan so loud you’re sure the next door neighbors could hear the lewd activities.
You’re nearly crying, feeling the tail enter you to its full extremity where it wouldn’t kill you.
Price chuckles, nudging his face into your neck, feeding your sensitive neck with his scratchy beard as he resumes fucking you.
"Fuck– so pretty with my tail in yah," John hums, grabbing your cheeks before kissing you deeply; his tongue fighting dominance over yours.
Your eyes look at his — misty eyes. You seem to loose touch. Maybe with reality.
Everything clenches with friction. Your tight hole accepting the full him, sliding into you with the thinnest to the thickest part of his tail. Or how his own hole is so wet, taking your large cock with grace as he fumbles over his words.
"Fu–ucckk—" John breathes out, his right wing expanding, gripping your shoulder so unbelievably hard that you’re sure it'd leave bruises.
His hands drop down from your shoulders, beginning to glide over and down across your back, nails scratching at your redden skin.
"Oh– fuck, I love you."
With a single thrust upwards and John going downwards, you cry out loud as his rich cum releases all over your chest, staining your body as you also let yourself go.
Pumping pulse after pulse of thick cum deep inside him, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling his own seed going at it.
"Fuck– ya' so amazin'".
And you don’t know if its the cock drunk, dragon behavior, or you pumping him full up his guts — but your cock pulses, eagrily telling you both that between his tight hole, and your own of his thick tail, you’re begging for a new round with this new added fun.
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665 notes · View notes
minkyungseokie · 1 month
Text
Three’s A Crowd II | Pierre Gasly + Kika Gomes
synopsis; pierre and kika are still trying to get the oblivious and feeling denying y/n to realize just how in love they are with her, but y/n refuses to believe it
warnings; poly, gxg, throuple, homophobia, internalized homophobia, hateful family,
mentions of weaponizing religion, questioning someone’s faith, verbal and physical abuse, and disowning a minor
This is not meant to offend anyone. This is singing both me and a couple I know have experienced.
note; not requested
note2; bruh, I had so much trouble writing this and getting it out. I had so many ideas, but no way of excecuting any of it.
Sorry if this isn’t good enough. I tried to put this off until i could come up with something, but I didn’t want to leave ya hanging
Let's ignore the one in light mode. Also, I know people have lives, but the slug like rate F1 fics are being posted concerns me lol.
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Pierre Masterlist
I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.
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Y/n sighed. She had woken up due to the sensation of needing to go to the bathroom and the room being way too hot, only to find Pierre and Kika wrapped around her as if she were a tree and they were sloths. Well, more like Kika was holding onto her as if she was a sloth and Y/n was a tree, with her arms wrapped around Y/n's neck loosely and her leg thrown over her hips. Pierre was also clinging onto her, but he somehow ended up on top of her, which was why she was in her current predicament.
She desperately needed to pee, but she didn't want to wake them up. She needed the time before they woke up to fully think about how she felt.
She wanted to confess to the couple every minute she spent with them. Her heart told her to confess and finally get the love she had been yearning for, but her head told her no. Her head told her that she was disgusting for liking two people at once, her head told her that she is a homewrecker for liking both of them and possibly breaking them up,, her head told her to protect her heart from rejection and keep the friendship rather than sacrifice it for her selfish feelings.
She had so much going on inside her head that she needed to leave the room right them or else she'd break down and she would rather not have to explain why she's having a random breakdown in the bed.
Y/n managed to get Pierre off of her and wrapped around Kika instead before jumping out of bed and hightailing it to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't get into a relationship even if she was willing to ruin her friendship. Despite her saying that she was confident and secure in her sexuality, she really wasn't.
Being raised in a highly homophobic environment where she was taught to be a submissive house wife and her brother was raised in the mindset of a toxic "alpha" male. Y/n may have been kicked out because she didn't take in the teachings her parents tried to force into her mind, but she was still raised in a household where being different was disgusting for twenty years of her life.
It was a hard mindset to get rid of without the correct help and, to be quite honest, she never talked to anyone about it other than Pascale Leclerc, who wanted to put Y/n into therapy. If Y/n didn't basically have a panic attack when the therapist tried to pry too far, too fast, things probably would've been different.
Y/n tried to swallow the lump in her throat and keep the tears from exiting her tear ducts. Y/n began to sniffles and furiously wipe her eyes as the tears fell down her face.
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Kika stretched as Pierre got out of the bed and put on a shirt, "Where's Y/n?" Kika asked, scratching her head. "Not sure. She was gone when I woke up. Maybe the bathroom since the door is closed." Pierre shrugged, leaning over to kiss the model. Kika stood up and walked up to the bathroom door, "Hey, Minha linda. Are you okay in there?" Kika spoke, knocking on the thick wooden door.
Y/n didn't answer.
"Minha linda?" Kika called out, pressing her ear to the door to see if she could hear any movement or the shower. Kika's heart lurched when she heard labored breathing rather than the sound of water running, "Y/n?! Are you okay? Can I come in, please?" Kika asked worriedly, putting a hand on the doorknob.
Pierre looked over at the sound of his girlfriend's panicked voice. The French man dropped what was in his hand and marched over to his girlfriend's side, "What's wrong, mon cœur?" Pierre questioned worriedly. "I think something's wrong with Y/n. She seems to be in distress." Kika answered, turning back to the door and trying the doorknob.
It was locked just as she thought.
"Y/n? Please let us in. We just want to make sure that you're okay." Pierre spoke up, knocking on the door gently, but there was no answer. Kika put her ear to the door to see if she could hear more, only to hear hyperventilating, "She's hyperventilating. We have to get in there." Kika said, "There's a key right here just in case." Pierre explained, reaching up to grab a key off the doorframe. Kika snatched the key and fumbled trying to put it in the keyhole, "Stop, stop, stop. Kika, look at me. I need you to take a deep breath and calm down. Panicking will not help our Y/n." Pierre soothed.
Kika nodded, taking a few deep breaths. In, out, in, out.
Now calmed, Kika inserted the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. Pierre grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, "Oh, shit. She's having a panic attack." Pierre cursed. "I'm going to touch you, is that alright?" Pierre asked, hands hovering over Y/n's body, waiting until he got permission before sitting on the floor and pulling Y/n into his lap with Kika sitting right next to them looking up what to do when one is having a panic attack, "Okay, first step is to remain calm and ask them if they need anything." Kika instructed.
"Do you need anything, mon cœur?" Pierre muttered, holding Y/n to his chest. Y/n shook her head, but her panic attack ensued, "Can you raise up a hand for me?" Kika asked, hovering a hand over Y/n's back. Y/n shakily held up a hand and kept it there until Kika told her to put it back down. Kika had the girl repeat the action until her breathing calmed only a bit.
Pierre took Y/n's head and gently put it on his chest, "Can you hear me breathing?" Pierre inquired, earning a nod from Y/n. "Good, now I need you to try a breathe with me. Just try to copy my breathing." Pierre suggested. Pierre took Y/n's hand, Kika took the other one, and placed it on his chest.
Pierre began to take deep breaths until Y/n began to try and copy, "I'm proud of you. Good job." Kika praised, stroking Y/n's curls, "That's it, my girl. Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present." Pierre said. "You can get through this." Kika encouraged, placing a kiss on Y/n's forehead.
The couple continued to praise and say words of affirmation until she stopped hyperventilating, but she was still breathing hard and shaking, "Hey, gorgeous. Can you look at me?" Kika asked, placing her hands on Y/n's thighs, gently stroking them as a form of comfort. Y/n turned and looked Kika in the eyes, "That's my girl. Can you name three objects you see for me, hm?" Kika queried.
Y/n's eyes darted around frantically, "Hey, don't stress yourself out. It's okay. You don't need to search. Just name me the first three things you see." Kika gently ordered.
Y/n nodded and took a shaky breath, "Bru-brush, um, r-ring, and...and, um, shoes." Y/n stuttered, looking around.
"Good girl." Pierre praised, stroking Y/n's arm comfortingly, "That's perfect. You're doing amazing. Now, can you name me the things you can hear?" Kika asked. "Yo-you, the wind, a-and Pierre's breathing." Y/n let out a sigh, "Great, not move three body parts." Kika said. Y/n wiggles her toes, then her fingers, and then her ankle. "That's it. You did perfect, chérie." Pierre praised, "You did so amazing. I'm so proud of you." Kika joined the praising.
Y/n took a couple of more breaths and stood up, "Thank you. For helping." Y/n thanked in a dull voice. "Do you want to tell us what caused your panic attack?" Pierre asked, "It's just...I..." Y/n hesitated, Kika reached over and put a hand on Y/n's thigh again, "It's okay. You don't have to tell us if you aren't ready." Kika spoke, "We're here if you want to though." Pierre added.
"I just started thinking about...someone I really like and I began thinking about my family. They weren't the...they didn't like... they were homophobic and when I thought about them. I thought I was confident in my preferences, but I realized just how much my parents teachings affected me." Y/n explained, "Internalized homophobia, I guess."
Pierre and Kika shared a look, "You're...your parents didn't accept the fact that you liked more than men?" Kika asked, "Yeah, they said that the Bible is against same sex love. Just like all the other Christians who hate the LGBTQ, they use the Bible to "prove" their views. I asked my mother, who caught me kissing my best friend, where in the Bible did it say that loving someone of the same sex and she slapped me." Y/n chuckled.
As Y/n talked, she slid down until her head was in Pierre's lap and her bottom was in Kika's. Kika played with Y/n's shirt while Pierre ran his hand through her hair the best he could but since it was curly, he had to settle for scratching her head. "And then what happened?" Kika asked, urging Y/n to continue, "She allowed me to stay for a bit longer, in the house, but there was constant verbal and physical abuse." Y/n swallowed.
"She thought that if they treated me the way others in the world would treat me, it'd convert me. They tried sending me to conversion therapy, but we got into a fight and I got kicked out. Luckily, the Leclerc's took me in and raised me to be the way I am now. I owe them my life. They're the only family I have now and they've tried to help me, but I refused therapy. I thought I had the right mindset, but now I realize that...I'm not as tough as i thought and the family's tracings did, in fact, get to me." Y/n sighed before realizing she was ranting about problems that they weren't apart of.
Y/n didn't realize just how comfortable she felt around them until she was spilling her past to them. “I just realized I’m trauma dumping to you. I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear this.” Y/n started to sit up, but Pierre pulled her back down while Kika gently pushed her down. “Mon cœur, if we didn’t want to hear, we wouldn’t have asked. We care about you. We…we love you and we want to hear things about you.” Pierre said, “The good or the bad. We want to know whatever it is you want to tell us.” Kika added.
Y/n looked into Pierre’s ocean blue eyes before locking eyes with Kika. The couple stared at Y/n expectantly, “What?” Y/n asked, eyes darting between the two. Pierre groaned and Kika sighed, Pierre thought she would get what they meant when he said it, but maybe saying it constantly as friends didn’t help.
They would have to find a way to confess that couldn’t be confused as a friendly gesture.
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After getting dressed for the day, the three set off to walk around town. They were planning on showing Y/n around Italy by taking her to their favorite spots. Making sure her hands never left theirs or a hand was on her body at all times, they showed her all their favorite places before stopping at a cafe for lunch.
“Ah, this place is so cool,” Y/n said, swinging their connected hands back and forth, “Yeah? Do you think you can make it home? I know you’ve been thinking about moving to Italy or are you staying in Monaco?” Kika questioned. “Maybe. I mean, my family’s in Monaco, but you and Pierre are in Italy. So far, I think that I’m team Italy.” Y/n said absentmindedly.
Kika and Pierre shared an excited look. “Tonight. We tell her tonight.” Pierre mouthed to Kika, who agreed. They’d be confessing their love to Y/n tonight during dinner.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Y/n sat on the beach while Kika and Pierre played in the water. She smiled and took some pictures for Instagram and Twitter later, knowing that Pierre would want some for the photo dump he posted sometimes before the next GP. The girl scrolled through Instagram, just looking at whatever her friends posted and looking at reels until she noticed one with her name in it.
Twitter/X when Y/n, Pierre, and Kika look so cute together, but they can't see it.
With the caption reading, 'I don't understand how they can be so obvious and oblivious at the same time.'
Y/n scrambled onto Twitter to find that she indeed was trending alongside Kika and Pierre. Pressing onto the hashtag with her name on it, she read the posts to see what people were saying
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Y/n lowered her phone and stared ahead with wide eyes. Had she actually been missing the signs that Pierre and Kika had been throwing her? They were normally super close. Always touching and being super close, so it was hard for her to tell they wanted to be more than friends.
Y/n looked up at the blue sky, trying to think of anything that could've been seen as a hint as that they wanted to be more than friends with Y/n. Nothing came to mind until she started cycling through the things that they usually do with her throughout the years.
The kissing.
Y/n had never had that type of interaction between any of them before this year. She didn’t know when it started, but she knew it just happened one day and she never questioned it. Her forehead, her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her hands, and the top of her head. Now that she thought about it, there were times where they were close to kissing her lips and she just someone hadn’t noticed.
“What’s got you so concentrated?” Pierre’s voice spoke from behind her as he sat down so that she was between his legs, “Yeah, what’s got your attention like that?” Kika questioned, sitting in between Y/n’s legs.
“Ah, it’s nothing. I was just…thinking about stuff.” Y/n waved off their concern, wrapping her arms around the slightly older model while leaning against Pierre. “Are you sure? You looked deep in thought when we came up. We even called you, but you didn’t answer.” Kika said, “Everything is fine. Again, I was just thinking about something. Do you think we can get some gelato?” Y/n asked, quickly changing the subject.
Kika sat up excitedly, “Ooo, gelato sounds perfect. It’s a good idea. Let’s go!” Kika grabbed Y/n’s hand and ran to the nearest gelato shop, “Wait, Ki. What about Pierre?” Y/n asked, looking at the man who was still sitting on the beach with a confused look on his face. “We’ll get him some too. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you, even if it’s just a couple of minutes.” Kika flirted, batting her pretty little lashes at Y/n.
Y/n practically melted in her flip flops.
Now that she has been made aware that the two openly flirt with her, she was going to try and see it. She could now see that Kika tended to use her large brown eyes to her advantage and it always worked on her unknowingly.
“You’re adorable.” Y/n muttered, pinching Kika’s cheeks causing the girl to groan and slap her hands away, “Stop! You’re acting like my grandmother.” Kika whined. The girls walked up to the counter and ordered their gelatos with Pierre getting bacio, Kika getting stracciatella, and Y/n getting lampone.
“Pierre, we’ve got you gelato!” Y/n sung, playfully swaying hips in a weird dance as the two girls approached the man. “What did you get me?” Pierre asked, grabbing the gelato from Y/n’s hands, “Bacio.” Kika answered, “Mmm, lampone is so good. Do you two want to try?” Y/n asked, holding out a spoonful of her gelato out for Pierre.
Pierre stared into her eyes as he took the spoon in his mouth and licked his lips once she took the spoon back, “Cheeky.” Y/n whispered, turning to feed Kika some of it as well.
Y/n decided that if they were really into her, she’d openly flirt with them and let them make the first move. She wasn’t going to take the word of people online and possibly break up their perfect friendship or the couple’s relationship. If anything were to happen, she’d have to let them to do it to make sure that she doesn’t cross any boundaries and make them uncomfortable. “That real is good. Do you want some of mine?” Pierre asked. The trio kept feeding each other spoonful of gelato and making jokes.
Y/n began to feel uncomfortable with how bright the sun was. She reached into her bag and pulled it sunscreen, “We need to put this on. Tans are amazing, but possible skin cancer is not.” Y/n waved the bottle around. Y/n opened the bottle only to have it snatched out of her hand, “Hey!” Y/n gasped, looking at Pierre, “I’ll help you put it on.” Pierre offered. “I’d this and excuse to touch my ass?” Y/n teased, looking at Pierre through narrowed lids, “Who knows?” Pierre shrugged, smiling at the curly-haired girl.
Y/n lifted her hair up so that Pierre could get her neck, “Kika, sit in front of me. I’ll get you covered if you need sunscreen.” Y/n offered, pulling out another bottle of sunscreen. “Yes, please.” Kika crawled in between Y/n’s legs, putting her hair into a bun so none of the sunscreen got into it.
Y/n sat up so that she was on her knees with her legs in an “L” shape. Y/n opened the sunscreen bottle and began applying it to Kika when she felt Pierre’s hands brushing sand off her ass and then sunscreen being applied to her butt and thighs, “I feel like you’re having too much fun touching my ass, Mr. Gasly.” Y/n hummed, “Maybe I am.” Pierre played along, “You hear this, Kiki? We might have to run away together and leave Pierre behind.” Y/n joked as the model laid on her stomach to give Y/n better access to her body.
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Y/n sighed, looking through her Instagram feed with a bored expression on her face. Kika and Pierre had gone out to do lord knows what while she stayed in the villa. Y/n groaned, throwing her phone on the bed. Maybe they were were on a date together and that's why they were taking so long to come back.
Y/n got off the bed and grabbed a towel, going to take a shower while waiting for the couple to come back from doing whatever it was that they were doing. Stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around her body, Y/n walked out into the bedroom and grabbed her lotion, deodorant, and stuff for her hair. Just as she was about to remove the towel, the door to the bedroom opened up.
“Merde, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were getting dressed.” Pierre cursed, turning so he wasn’t looking at her body anymore, “Shit, you scared me. You’re lucky that i didn’t take off my towel.” Y/n scolded. “Sorry!” Pierre apologized, but he didn’t make the move to leave the room. “Pierre, what’s taking so long?” Kika asked, pushing past him to see Y/n in nothing but a towel.
Kika pulled an outfit out of a bag and tossed it on the bed, “Here put that on and come out when you’re done.” Kika ordered, pulling Pierre out of the doorway and shut the door behind her. Y/n moisturized her body and held up the outfit that was tossed to her. She recognized that this was an outfit that she had bought when she and Kika went shopping together before the trip.
(If you don’t like the outfit, feel free to imagine your own. Just needs to be black)
She didn’t realize she had packed it.
Y/n put on a pair of boots, put her hair in twin buns, and (put on makeup or not. Your choice) walked out of the room to see that Kika and Pierre are also dolled up. Kika in a black mini dress and heels, and Pierre wearing black pants with thin white lines that crossed to male squares and a black button down.
“You guys look good!” Y/n spoke up, grabbing their attention. Pierre and Kika’s eyes scanned her body like they were staring and analyzing a piece of art, “You look amazing, minha vida.” Kika complimented, “So do you! My gosh, your legs are gorgeous.” Y/n said. Kika’s cheeks turned pink, “Oh, thank you. Pierre, didn’t she look good?” Kika asked, turning to Pierre, who was still staring at Y/n, but with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Pierre? Please stop staring.” Y/n said, looking away nervously, “Pierre.” Kika hissed, nudging her boyfriend. Pierre snapped back to attention and gave Y/n and wrapped an arm around Kika’s waist, “You look nice, chérie.” Pierre said, holding out his arm for Y/n to take.
Y/n looked at his arm and reluctantly took it. Even if the people on Twitter were right, Y/n still felt like she was home wrecking their relationship, which is why she decided to let them take control and comes if they really did like her. Y/n cleared her throat, “So, uh, where are we going?” Y/n asked as Pierre led the two of them to his car, opening the door and pushing the seat forward so Y/n could get into the back. “Out.” Pierre amswered cheekily, “But out where?” Y/n questioned as she put on her seatbelt, “We’re just going out for dinner. It’s the last day of our break together before Suzuka.” Kika explained.
Y/n nodded and looked out the window of the car. The only people who were talking were Kika and Pierre, who were mumbling low so she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Y/n was getting annoyed. After rubbing sunscreen on each others bodies, she thought they’d be more open and flirtatious with her, but it seemed like they were just pulling away more.
Maybe the people online were wrong. Maybe they were just seeing things and upon seeing something that wasn’t actually there, they convinced Y/n that the couple had wanted her the way she wanted them. Y/n sighed and looked down at her hands, maybe she was just being…what do the fans call it? Delulu?
Maybe she was being delulu when it came to her relationship with Kika and Pierre. She had an entire panic attack over being in love with another woman and possibly breaking up a relationship and it turns out it might’ve been justified. The woman’s mood soured right then and there. She didn’t want to go out anymore, but remained quiet because it wasn’t their fault she deluded herself into thinking that they’d love her the way she loved them.
“Y/n? We’re here.” Kika spoke, poking her with her mini Kelly, “Oh? Yeah, I’m coming.” Y/n said, trying not to let the emotion she was feeling bored into her voice. Y/n exited the car, ignoring the hand Pierre was offering to her and walked in the restaurant ahead of the couple, “Does she seem upset to you?” Kika asked, “Yeah, I don’t know. Are you sure we should do this tonight?” Pierre inquired. “We should. It might improve her mood.” Kika said.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
It was well into the night and meals were halfway eaten by the time the two were ready to confess. Y/n was just ready to go home because she was tired and didn’t want to continue third wheeling. At the same time, she had no right to be upset when she was the one who deluded herself into thinking they genuinely were interested. Kika wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin before putting it down, "Y/n, there's something we have to--"
"Excuse me."
A new voice interrupted Kika's sentence causing all eyes to turn to the person who interrupted the said woman. It was a gorgeous man with red and black dyed hair, "Hello, can I help you?" Y/n asked politely, "I apologize if this straightforward, but I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask if you wanted to come hang out with me." The guy said. Y/n wasn't really interested in him the way he was with her, but she was kind of upset and tired of being the third wheel on this outing, so she didn't see why she couldn't get to know someone new.
The man held out a hand for her to take if she was interested. Y/n looked at the hand and put her hand into his, "Do you guys mind if I go with him? You can make this a date or something." Y/n said, standing up. "It is a date so you can't leave!" Kika blurted, "What do you mean by that, Kika?" Y/n asked, putting her hands on her hips.
"Y/n, we just wanted to spend time with you before we all had to go back to our respective jobs. We don't want you blowing us off for some random ass-- person you just met." Pierre spoke, "Then it should be alright if he sits with us, right? And what were you going to say before you changed the word to person? " Y/n questioned. She wasn't trying to be difficult or break up the time they were spending together, but instead trying to take her mind off of the couple and maybe fall in love with someone available.
"Nothing. He was going to say nothing. Y/n, please sit down and let him go. We are just trying to have a nice evening with you." Kika said, "Kika, I understand that and I'm sorry for trying to invite some random dude out of the blue, but I was tired of being the third-wheel. I want to have someone to talk to while you're being all lovey dovey with each other." Y/n sighed, turning to the guy. "I'm sorry, but can we rain check?" Y/n asked
The man pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed a paper napkin nearby, bending down and using the table to write something on the napkin, "Don't worry about it. Finish hanging out with your friends and call me whenever. The name's Milo by the way." The guy said, gently placing the paper into her hands.
"It was lovely meeting you." Y/n said, waving as he left. Once Milo was gone, Y/n turned to the couple with a scowl before taking a deep breathe and sitting down. "Listen, Y/n. We didn't mean to ruin your chances at possibly meeting someone you could have a future connection with, but--" "It's fine. It's whatever. I was... never mind. I'm sorry. I'm just not feeling it tonight." Y/n sighed again.
"And that's fine. We are sorry as well. Right, Pierre?" Kika asked, turning to her boyfriend, "No." Pierre answered causing both girl's heads to shoot up, "What?" Kika gasped, "What do you mean by "no"?" Y/n asked. "I meant no. Listen, I'm sorry you feel like the third wheel and I'm sorry you felt like we weren't giving you enough attention..."
"Pierre, what are you..." Kika started
"We actually invited you to this trip because we had something we've been meaning ot tell you..." Pierre continued
"Pierre..." Kika warned.
"We both love you and before you say that you love us too, we love you. As in, we want you to be our girlfrien--" "Pierre!" Kika hissed, hoping to cut him off before Y/n could fully hear him, but it seemed like it was too late. Y/n sighed, "I know that this is a--''
"Finally. I thought I was being delusional." Y/n gave a sigh of relief. The couple shared a confused look before looking to Y/n, "What do you mean by that?" Pierre questioned, "You think I'd let you touch my ass if I didn't like you? I was oblivious for the first part, but something enlightened me and I saw that it was pretty obvious." Y/n shrugged.
"We were trying to make it obvious, but we didn't expect you to actually get the hints." Kika muttered, "I'm oblivious, not stupid." Y/n joked. "So that finally means I can do this." Pierre surged forward and kissed Y/n deeply, "Pierre, we're still the restaurant." Kika said, pulling him back until he let go of Y/n.
"Wow, I didn't expect that." Y/n said, "You guys go wait by the car while I pay." Pierre suggested. Kika grabbed Y/n's hand and lead her outside while Pierre called the waiter so he could pay the bill.
Pierre also ordered a bottle of wine to go before exiting the resturant to see his girlfriend cuddled up to Y/n. Both girls had dopey smiles on their faces and Y/n had Kika's lipstick smeared on her lips, which gave Pierre an idea of what went on while he was paying. "This means you'll take us as your lovers, no?" Pierre asked, "Yeah, of course." Y/n nodded.
Kika cheered, throwing her arms around the two taller people, bringing them into a group hug. "Ah! Amo-vos muito." Kika muttered, burying her head in Pierre's neck, "Je vous aime tous les deux beaucoup." Pierre spoke before Y/n said it in her own native language.
The trio then went home as a newly formed throuple.
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I'm sorry I rushed the ending and at one point I had no idea where this was going. I might take this down and rewrite it, but for now, here's you part two
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starry-bi-sky · 8 months
Text
Childhood Friends Danny and Jason
(cw underage smoking / smoking as a form of bonding) (cw Jason thinking Danny killed himself but its only for a moment) (cw depictions of murderous intent? Danny wants to murder the Joker and he's a little descriptive about it)
Now on ao3 :) (and with a response and a third one)
AND ALSO A REMASTERED VERSION THAT YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO CHECK OUT BECAUSE I WORKED VERY HARD ON IT.
This is… aha. Massive. Word count check: 9k+
this has probably been done before but hey, everyone loves a good trope and I wanted to share my take on this idea. 👏👏 So, Danny Fenton and Jason Todd being childhood friends. The Fentons lived in Crime Alley for a good long while during Danny's childhood. Nobody wanted to fund their research and Jack and Maddie struggled to keep any form of work for a multitude of reasons. Jack worked in construction due to his big build and Maddie had another job elsewhere.
Danny and Jason were friends during that time, really great friends. I'm not super solid on how they met yet but I do know it involves Danny committing petty crime and Jason deciding to jump in and help when he sees Danny struggling. Danny was distrustful (as all crime alley kids ought to be) but they eventually became thick as thieves, committing petty crime together.
While it's all too easy to make Danny the weaker one of the two with Jason protecting him, I actually really like the idea that they protected each other. Growing up (essentially) on the streets means Danny forcibly had to grow a backbone unless he wanted to get trampled all over. He is just as willing to scuffle with the bigger kids as Jason is, and he and Jason regularly fought each other whenever they needed to let off steam, or just because. They were a duo, having each other's backs in tough situations.
(Sometimes the pair of them would sneak out at night and try and get a glimpse of Batman and Robin while they soared through the air. It was like a game between the two of them to see who could spot the dynamic duo first. When they were a little older, Jason would steal his dad's cigarettes and share them with Danny while they searched for Batman and Robin)
So when Danny has to move away when they're eleven years old, it's pretty safe to say that Jason didn't speak to him for a week afterwards. Nothing Danny did could persuade him to otherwise, even when Danny insisted that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't want to move away either, but he didn't have a choice in the matter.
When the week was over, Jason climbed through Danny's window and sat in his room, dead silent and looking upset. he didn't speak until Danny fished out a stolen pack of cigarettes from his bed and handed one to Jason.
(It was a ritual they had where if one of them was upset about something but wasn't saying anything, the other one could then hand them a cigarette -- whether it be the one they were using or a new one -- and that would be an open invitation for the person to vent. The other one who handed him the cigarette wouldn't speak until the venter handed back the cigarette. Then back and forth it would go until the cigarette was gone.)
Jason ranted about how pissed he was about Danny moving, and they promised to try and stay in touch after he leaves. Neither of them had phones, but Danny was determined to send him a letters.
Danny moves to Amity Park and it's... an adjustment, that's for sure. He's angry, grumpy, upset, and every other negative feeling under the sun. He was going to a new middle school with new people he didn't know, away from all of the people he did know and away from his best friend.
(He does however keep his word about sending letters, and mails one out to Jason at the first opportunity.)
He refuses to get along with anyone, butts heads with the teachers, is combative, rude, and openly smokes in class -- which gets him plenty of detentions and a bad reputation. He speaks in a thick Gotham street accent and wears hand-me-down clothes that are too big and baggy on him. (His parents have yet to replace any of their wardrobes as they settle into their new life, and Danny is hesitant to spend the money to get new clothes.)
He only manages to befriend Sam and Tucker because one of the football kids was bullying Tucker and Danny stepped in. It was some blond jerk named Dash and when Dash threw the first punch, Danny broke his nose. Tucker found him later that day and reluctantly thanked him for his help.
Sam and Danny do not get along for the longest time. Sam questions Danny about his upbringing, his accent, his smoking. She judges him for talking back to the teachers despite doing it herself and for ruining his lungs with cigarettes. Danny tells her to fuck off, and when she tries to judge him and Tucker for not being vegetarian, he calls her a privileged brat.
Sam doesn't even look at him for two weeks after, and Danny refuses to apologize. Tucker is caught between a rock and a hard place as his old friend and new friend are feuding with each other.
They... sort it out eventually.
Danny and Jason send each other letters near religiously. Danny complains about Amity Park, and Jason complains about how Crime Alley isn't the same without him. Danny talks about the school and what he's learned, about Sam and Tucker, and how he's been getting into the astronomy books in the library. He steals Jason a book and sends it to him.
When Jason tells Danny that he was adopted by Bruce Wayne, Danny calls bullshit. There's no fucking way Bruce Wayne would even look at Crime Alley, regardless of his charity efforts towards it. But when he checks Gotham news later that week, he's hit in the face with every single news article announcing Bruce Wayne's newest ward; Jason Todd.
Cue freaking out. Jason talks all about living in Wayne Manor and what it's like there. He says that there's a monster library in a part of the house that Bruce says he has free reign over, and that Jason can have anything to eat as long as he asks Alfred to make it and it isn't a desert, and that he has his own monster-sized room that he got to pick out himself and decorate.
(When they both get phones, the first thing either of them do is add each other's numbers.)
When Sam complains about having to go to a Wayne Gala that her parents are dragging her to one weekend, the first thing Danny asks is if he can go with. It surprises Sam and Tucker; Danny was the last person they would have thought wanted to go with. HE hates the rich even more than Sam does. Danny stands firm in his decision, and refuses to elaborate.
"Besides." He says to Sam, with whom he's begun to get along with via 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend'. "Would you rather go alone or with someone you can tolerate?"
She brings him with and convinces her parents to allow Danny to come along, citing that she'll be on her best behavior if they do. They agree, and buy Danny a suit when he says that he doesn't have one of his own.
(He discovers that he hates wearing suit jackets and ties, but vests he doesn't mind. He doesn't like that he has to comb his hair back, but he does to make Sam's parents happy. They give him a crash course in etiquette that Danny's going to forget the next day, and soon enough off they go in a private jet to Gotham)
(he does not tell Jason he's coming.)
he feels mischievous and nervous as they touch down, his stomach swirling as Sam's parents usher them to a high-profile hotel that Danny's only ever dreamed about going into. He feels largely out of place as they walk through the lobby, and falls back on old habits: square shoulders, set jaw, make yourself look like the biggest person in the room.
They get ready in the hotel room, Sam's parents primp and preen for the night incoming, and Sam is dragged into it by her mother. Danny does only what's required of him, and fiddles with the sleeves of his fresh-ironed button-down that's been tailored to his body. He's itching for a cigarette, and didn't bring any with.
Sam's dad helps him with his tie, a bout of kindness that Danny doesn't think is one. Just obligation to prevent Danny from looking like a mess. Sam pesters him again about wanting to come, and his reasons for it, and Danny keeps mum.
He's stone-faced with anxiety as they get closer to the gala, and before they leave the limousine the Mansons rented Sam links arms with him. A form of solidarity that Danny needs as he squeezes their arms together and smiles weakly at her.
The paparazzi are loud, bright, and demanding, shouting questions over questions at them like overlapping tidal waves. Danny ignores them all and focuses on the front doors instead. Sam's parents whisper at the stairs that they are to greet the Waynes first, and Danny's heart leaps to his throat.
His heart is in his ears as they drift closer, Mister Wayne is preoccupied with another rich couple, smiling that charming billionaire smile that Danny saw on every billboard in Gotham, and then some in Amity Park. Getting so close to him feels unreal.
And there by his side is the one and only Jason Todd, who isn't even trying to hide the bored look on his face as he watches Bruce interact with the other adults. He's gotten taller in the year they've been away, and healthier. His hair looks like its been cut professionally and he doesn't look as street kid skinny.
Danny's arm, hooked with Sam's, tightens up, and he resists the urge to rush forward and hug Jason. He watches Jason's eyes sweep left, away from him, and then right, towards him. The air stills for a moment as their eyes lock.
Danny grins toothily at him, lopsided and playful in nature, and sees the moment Jason processes the sight before him. His arm starts slipping out of Sam's at the same time as an ecstatic smile stretches across Jason's face.
His lopsided grin fills out on the other end. "DANNY!" Jason yells, cutting off whatever Bruce Wayne and startling everyone within earshot. There's barely a moment for Bruce to look down when Jason shoves past him and runs at Danny.
Danny yanks his arm out of Sam's, "JASON!" He yells with just as much enthusiasm, and Jason nearly topples them right over when he collides with Danny. His arms wrap around Danny's shoulders, holding onto him tightly, and they're both laughing, spinning around like tops out of joy.
"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Jason cries, sounding accusing. Danny hugs him just as tightly, and laughs when Jason pulls away momentarily to punch his shoulder.
"I wanted it to be a surprise!" He defends, laughing between words as their spinning comes to a stop. They're both reluctant to pull apart, but they do and clutch the sleeves of their elbows tightly. "How could my best friend be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and have me not come confirm it with my own two eyes?"
"I sent you newspaper clippings!" Jason says, narrowing his eyes while his smile betrays his face. Danny quietly notices that his Gotham street accent is faded slightly.
"Oh that's what it was?" Danny's grin turns again, edging into a smirk. He feigns innocence, "I thought that was fire kindling." He has the newspaper clippings hung on the corkboard in his room, proud beyond words about his best friend.
Jason punches him in the shoulder again, hard enough to leave a bruise. "You jackass." He says, ignoring Danny's laughter even when he's holding back his own.
There's a soft, sharp clearing of someone's throat, breaking their attentions away from each other to the one that made the noise.
Bruce Wayne was a tall man, taller than Danny expected, and he looks exactly like his billboards. If less promiscuous than his perfume ads. Danny expects him to be upset with them both for disrupting his pretty rich gala, but instead he just looks gently amused, with an arched eyebrow. Overall though, he just looks fond.
Danny would be the first to admit that Bruce had taken in Jason as a charity case, something to fill the void after his other kid Dick Grayson finally moved out. But Danny’s a good judge of character — or he likes to assume he is — and those are not the eyes of a man who would take Jason in as a charity case. Those are the eyes of a man who actually, genuinely, cares about one Jason Todd.
The wriggly protective thing settles in his chest.
He doesn’t let go of Jason, but he does twist his smile into something a little more polite. Mister Wayne’s eyebrow arches higher, and he turns his blue-blue eyes onto Jason. “Who’s this, Jason?” He has that fancy Gotham Elite accent -- something that sounds like a mix between old transatlantic and faintly British -- that Danny's only heard in passing when he and Jason snuck up to the nicer parts of Gotham.
Jason stares at Mister Wayne, his grip on Danny tightens as his eyes flick to the other onlookers in the room. “This is Danny, B.” He says once his eyes turn back to Mister Wayne. “We grew up in Crime Alley together, he moved to Illinois last year."
Danny can see the uncomfortable expressions cross every rich person's face, murmurs sweeping across the room as soon their uncomfortable gazes turned judgmental and flinty. He's kept track of the tabloids after Jason's adoption, the ones calling him a charity case and looking down on him for being a street kid.
He inches a little closer to Jason, straightening up instinctively, as if they were back in Crime Alley and facing a pack of kids that didn't like them. He can see Sam's surprised expression from the corner of his eye -- he never told Tucker or Sam about where he grew up, although he's sure they had their suspicions.
He looks back to Mister Wayne and meets his blue-blue eyes, his smile has slowly begun to fade. Mister Wayne doesn't miss a beat however, and his smile stays plastered to his face. If anything, it gets a little softer, a little wider. "It's nice to meet you Danny -- Daniel? I'm so glad that Jason has a friend here." He holds out a hand.
Danny eyes him unsurely, and then takes his hand. "It's jus' Danny, Mister Wayne." He says, some of his old accent slipping through as he shook his hand firmly. He would have done it harder, but this was Jason's new guardian, and from Jason's letters he didn't sound too bad. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too. Jason's told me lots about you."
Mister Wayne's brows jump momentarily, he looks intrigued. He looks between Danny and Jason, and claps his hands together softly. "Well, Jay, how would you like to stay with Danny for a while, hm? I'm sure you too have a lot to catch up on."
Hope simmers in Danny's heart, and he glances to Jason to see that same hope on his face. "Really?" He asks, and Mister Wayne nods with a laugh.
"Of course! How could I keep two friends apart? Go on ahead, chum. I'll come get you when the gala ends."
And just like that, Bruce Wayne leaves Jason with Danny, diving back into a conversation with one of the rich gothamites and taking the attention with it as if he were the sun and everyone else a planet orbiting him.
Danny and Jason share grins, and throw their arms around each other with laughter. Danny is on cloud nine, pressing his nose into Jason's shoulder and breathing him in, fingers digging into the back of his suit hard enough to leave wrinkles in his jacket.
Sam demands answers when they finally, for real this time, pull apart. Why didn't he tell her that he was friends with Jason Todd!? Danny slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and keeps him close, and tells her that it was because he wanted it to be a surprise.
Sam's parents have unreadable expressions on their faces, part greed -- Danny is their in to the elusive Bruce Wayne -- and part disdain -- a Gotham street rat. Danny ignores them, they're unimportant in the grand scheme of things.
He introduces Sam to Jason, and Jason to Sam. And off they go to a corner of the room near the buffet table where they can eat and shit talk everyone else in the room in peace.
At some point in the night Sam is called back to her parents to meet some other fancy rich kids her parents want her to get along with, and Danny and Jason go off to the west end balcony to avoid anyone who may try and approach the new Gotham ward.
Danny hops up onto the balcony railing, kicking his feet as Jason pulls a cigarette pack out of his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Don't tell Bruce," he says, handing the box to Danny first. "He's been trying to get me to quit."
"Hah!" Danny takes one just as Jason slips out a lighter. "That sounds like Jazz. She's been trying to get me to stop since we moved to Amity." Granted, she's been trying ever since she found out before they moved, but now she was even more insistent. "She hasn't found my stash yet."
At the end of the night when the Mansons are leaving and Danny has to leave with them, he walks back to Mister Wayne with Jason to tell him that he's leaving. Mister Wayne mourns his going, and tells him that he's always able to come visit.
"Any friend of Jason's is always welcome to the manor." He says with a blinding grin, pulling Jason close to his side and squeezing him tight. Jason's nose scrunches up, but he doesn't push away.
It becomes a new routine for them. The Mansons are all too happy to bring him with to the Wayne Galas (of which they start receiving more invites to due to their connection with Danny) and Danny is all too happy to spend the evening with Jason again. No matter what, they always end up on the balcony at some point in the night.
And, eventually, Danny is invited to stay at Wayne Manor either for a weekend or for a break. He jumps at the chance when winter break rolls around and his parents start their debate over Santa Claus again.
Danny and Jason stay up late into the night talking or playing video games during their sleepovers, and in the warmer nights they climb out and onto the roof to stargaze. Danny points out constellations - - things he can find in neither Gotham or Amity -- and rambles on and on about space.
There are plenty of times during the Wayne Galas that the event gets attacked by a rogue. More often than he'd like he loses Jason in the crowd, and has later stopped Robin or Batman in his panic to find him.
The first time it happened, he was in tears with terror. He grabbed onto Batman's cape, stopping the man from going back in as he babbled that his Jason Todd was still inside, that he disappeared during the chaos and he couldn't find him. Batman took his hands and calmly told him that he'd find Jason for him, and that he was sure he was okay, but he needed to calm down.
He found Jason later once everything had calmed down, and he screamed at him for disappearing during a rogue attack, if he ever did it again he'll kill him. Then he cried.
The second time it happened, Danny didn't even realize that Jason was gone until everything was already over. They'd been separated before the attack happened. He stopped Robin and Batman before they could leave, trying to keep his breathing under control as he asked again, if they had seen Jason Todd.
"That- that asshole keeps fucking ditching me when these things happen." His voice has an embarrassing wobble in it. "Please-- please tell me you've seen him, that he's alright."
Robin this time steps up to reassure him, that Jason Todd was out of the building. He got him out. "He's probably looking for you too, uhhh..."
"Danny" Danny says, and eyes him up and down. "You're the new Robin right?"
Robin stilled up, and Danny could understand it a little. He'd seen the thoughts on the new Robin online. He wasn't very popular at first. Robin nods curtly, and Batman was shuffled a little closer to him, almost protectively.
Danny grins at him. "Cool." He says, "Me and Jay used to sneak out onto the rooftops sometimes to try and spot Batman and the first Robin, we made it a game." He holds out a fistbump, "Thanks for doing what you do, man. I might not live in Gotham anymore, but I mean it. You're a living legend."
Robin looks like there's something stuck in his throat, and after a beat he returns the fistbump tentatively. "Th- uh, thanks." He stumbles out awkwardly, and then turns away, "Me and B- uh, better go."
Before Danny could even respond, Robin already had his grapple in hand and was grappling away. "You too, Batman." Danny says before Batman can follow.
When Danny sees Jason after that, and weight lifts off his chest and he hits him in the arm again. And then complains that he should have gotten Batman and Robin's autograph, it would have been epic.
By the fifth time it happens, Danny is cussing up a storm when Robin saves him, cursing out Jason and claiming that he needs to put that boy on a fucking leash. "We're a duo!" He scowls when Robin gets him outside, "I got his back, he has mine! I can't have his back when he's got no back to fucking have."
The eighth time it happens, Danny gets held hostage by one of the henchmen. He's become a recognizable friend of the Waynes, and when the Waynes are nowhere to be found, then the next best thing was up to offer. Danny isn't even mad this time around -- just relieved that Jason was fucking off somewhere where he couldn't get hurt.
Robin, however, seemed furious when he arrived, and broke the hostager's jaw with a single flying kick to the face. Jason found him rapidly quick soon after the situation had settled, and apologized over and over again.
Danny slings an arm around his shoulder and laughs that it was fine, Robin saved the day! His legs were shaking with the worn off adrenaline, something he tried to hide from Jason. "I'm just glad it was me instead of you, Jay." He grins. Jason looks like he swallowed a toad.
Jason stops disappearing as often after that, sticking close to Danny's side until the attack was over.
When Danny is fourteen, Jason dies, and his world unravels.
He calls the manor on a late night in April after Jason had stopped responding to his texts. Danny knew that Jason was just recently in a fight with Bruce, but he knows that Bruce loves Jason. He would know where he is, right?
When he calls, Bruce answers with a hoarse "hello?" as if he'd been crying all day, and Danny's blood turns to ice. The anxiety he'd been feeling beforehand doubles in size, and he feels himself stammering.
"Mister- uh- Mister Wayne? Um, I'm calling because Jason--" he hears Bruce inhale sharply on the other line, and his anxiety skyrockets into fear. "--hasn't been answering any of my texts and- and I'm gettin' real worried."
There's silence on the other end, and Danny feels a rock forming in his throat, gross and heavy like he was on the verge of throwing up. "Mister- Bruce? Mister B?"
There's a shaky breath, and then Bruce's voice crackles through the phone. "Um-- Jason, he, he's--" there's a sound like rustling, "he's been killed."
Danny's vision whites out with skyrocketing terror, his mind skidding to a stop. His body rapidly grows hot, and then chills, like a blacksmith striking a heated weapon. "What?"
When the phone call ends, Danny screams himself hoarse. Jazz and his parents come running into his room, his parents equipped with ghost weapons. Instead, they find Danny curled up in his bed, sobbing hoarsely.
Danny almost -- almost -- refuses to attend the funeral, nearly paralyzed with grief. Jazz coaxes him to go, to find closure if anything else, and he drags himself out of bed to go.
He feels numb the entire time. It's closed casket, so he can't even see him for one last time before Jason is buried in the ground. He's silent, and if he think he looks bad, then Bruce looks even worse, like he hadn't slept since Jason died and worse.
Danny grabs his sleeve before he leaves, and when Bruce turns to him with a dull look in his once vibrant eyes, he clings to him tightly. And cries. Bruce clings back just as tight, Danny feels tears drip into his hair.
"Who did it." Danny whispers, voice too hurt to speak any louder, when he pulls back. His fingers curl around Bruce's jacket tightly, desperately. His eyes hurt with tears. "You said he was murdered, B. Please, who did it."
Bruce looks down at him, and for the first time it really does feel like he's looking down at him. His face is blank, and his eyes close in grief. There is no answer, a silent no.
Danny's face twists up all ugly like, and he shakes Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, please. Tell me who did it."
Bruce refuses, his face full of grief.
Danny never returns to Gotham.
Prior to Jason's death and post their reunion, Danny had slowly begun to improve in school. He started caring more, he was putting in more effort, he was doing his homework and was actually enjoying class. There was the bullying from Dash and the A-Listers, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he was ignoring them for the most part.
Come Monday after the funeral, and Danny breaks Dash's nose when he starts up with his shit. He withdrew into himself, and it was like he was back to square one again, except this time it was much worse.
Everyone knew Danny was close friends with Jason Todd. So when news of his death finally reached the ears of Amity Park, the students of Casper High School kept their distance.
That following Friday, Danny dies in the portal and comes back. A month later he becomes Phantom, the ghost-fighting ghost. the ghost Phantom wears his hazmat suit partially undone, showing a tanktop he didn't wear in death under the initial suit while the sleeves are tied around his waist. Vicious, glowing lichtenburg scars travel up his arm and neck and torso, covering half of his face while a pair of scientist-like goggles covers his eyes. He's bitter and angry, showing off his death.
Look at me, Phantom's form says, I am a dead child. Look at me look at me look at me. Mourn me. I am a dead child. LOOK AT ME. MOURN ME.
A few weeks later he enters the ghost zone and realizes that he could find Jason. And he spends a weekend scouring the ghost zone for him. He finds Gotham in the zone, and rather than finding Jason, he finds Robin.
Danny didn't know he'd died. And he flies towards him, asks him if he's seen Jason, reveals that it's him, Danny Fenton. Robin stares at him, mouth agape, and peels off his mask to reveal Jason Todd.
They both cry, and when Danny tells him how he died, Jason looks pale in the face. "You didn't- you didn't kill yourself because of me, did you?"
Danny fervently denies it. No, no. He didn't, he didn't. It was an accident. Totally unrelated. But enough about that, what the hell happened? Bruce wouldn't tell him anything at the funeral.
Jason clams up, his ghostly face losing its color, and Danny curses himself. He tells Jason that he doesn't have to tell him, he doesn't have to say anything. They sit in silence.
"It was the Joker." Jason says.
That's all Danny needs to know. He nods quietly. 'I'll kill him.' He thinks to himself, a stubborn set in his jaw. "Okay."
It had always been a plan; a thought wriggling in the back of Danny's mind ever since Bruce told him that Jason had been killed.
Not died. Killed.
Danny wanted the fucker dead the moment he realized it. He just needed to know who did it. He thinks Bruce knew it too, could probably see it in his eyes the moment Danny asked him who did it. He isn't sure if he should hate Bruce more for keeping it from him now.
They spend hours together, just soaking in each other's presence. Danny tries to take him through the ghost portal, to bring him back to the land of the living. But much like Kitty, Jason's form is tied to the zone. Danny promises to visit every day.
And he does. Or he tries to. The grief doesn't go away, but with the comfort of knowing that Jason was on the other side, Danny feels a little better. He tells Jason about being Phantom, and Jason helps train him. It feels like they're kids again and are fighting just because they want to. Its a bout of familiarity in a place that feels unfamiliar. All they need are cigarettes.
And then six months later he loses him again. Danny scours the ghost zone for him for the second time, and this time he doesn't find him.
His haunt is still in the zone though. He didn't move on. He's still here, somewhere.
Danny is convinced that Jason was in the Elsewhereness, and looks for him in between ghost fights and his social life. He visits Jason's haunt every day, knowing that Jason should be able to feel when another ghost enters his home. He does not show up.
(He never thinks that Jason came back to life, and Jason doesn't remember his time in the ghost zone)
When Danny is nineteen, Vlad Masters blackmails him into going to another Wayne Gala. Begrudgingly, Danny goes. He's taller than he used to be, having inherited his dad's monstrous height and his mom's leanness. He has piercings, some of them he got after a lost bet from Sam and Tucker, and he's given himself an undercut.
He still prefers vests over suit jackets, and he still smokes. A little less than before, he sneaks a pack into his pocket before he leaves, along with a lighter. Vlad gives him a dirty look the whole time - he knows.
"Don't give me that look." "That stuff kills, you know" "I'm already dead."
It's like deja vu when he arrives; an awful bout of deja vu, that is. The paparazzi is still as bright and loud and annoying as it always was, and they don't recognize him at all. Something he thinks of as a soft mercy up until one of the reporters asks Vlad who he is.
Vlad smiles and tugs Danny into the camera frame, "Why, this is my godson!" He crows, and shoots Danny a look that is downright smug I'm sure many of you may know him as Daniel Fenton?"
If looks could kill, Vlad would be ash. Danny isn't quite sure why he still agreed to this -- blackmail or no. He felt itchy being in Gotham; jumpy. He's never forgotten his vow to kill the Joker, in fact it was something he still desperately wants.
But the threat of Rath, the name he chose for his evil future self, haunts him just as much as his murderous intent. If he kills the Joker, would he stop?
Danny's almost afraid of what he'll do if he ever lays eyes on the Joker in person. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around that stupid clown's neck and watching the light leave his eyes.
He pushes the thoughts to the side, and smiles lopsidedly as cameras and microphones flood his face, reporters yelling over themselves as they clamor to get a shot of the old Wayne family friend.
Danny turns and walks inside without answering a single question, flexing his fingers in and out of fists. Vlad gracefully hurries after him, and Danny can hear his glare burning into his back.
"You told me to come," Danny hisses to him once he's beside him, meeting Vlad's gaze piercingly, "not that I should play nice."
"Don't embarrass me, Daniel." Vlad hisses back, trying to look the upmost calm as eyes turn onto them. "I'll make you regret it."
"You embarrass yourself, fruitloop." Danny shoots back, walking away before Vlad could get a retort in. He sees Bruce Wayne on the other side of the room.
His heart seizes with nostalgia. He hasn't seen Bruce since Jason's funeral, hasn't spoken to him either. He doesn't know how to feel about him, but he'd been keeping tabs on Bruce both as himself and as Batman.
Danny's feet carry him forwards before he can think about it, silently weaving between the throng of rich people vying for his attention. It's only when he gets closer does he see the little shadow clinging to his side: Damian Wayne.
The newest little bird, Danny realizes, and stifles a smile at the surly expression on Damian's face as two older women coo over him. He reminded him of Sam, who had long since stopped coming to these things the moment she was able to.
The feeling of eyes on him turns Danny's attention away from Damian, and instead finds them back on Bruce's, who stares at him with a little furrow between his brows. As if he recognized him, but he wasn't sure from there.
Danny grins crookedly the moment he's within earshot. "Mister B!" He exclaims, slipping into what remained of his Gotham street accent. Recognition flashed in Bruce's eyes, and the man smiled widely. "Long time no see, old man."
"Danny," Bruce says, his name breathing out like relief. He slips between the crowd surrounding him -- who are now watching Danny -- and pulls Danny into a close hug. "It's good to see you again."
Danny hesitates for a moment -- he wasn't expecting Bruce to hug him -- and returns the gesture. "It's good to see you too, Bruce." He admits. Bruce was still using the same cologne that he did when Danny was a kid. He blinks heavily.
He pulls away quickly, clapping Bruce lightly on the shoulder as Damian quickly latches onto his father's side again. Damian glares daggers at him, fingers digging into Bruce's pantlegs like a possessive little kid.
He made Danny's ghost sense tingle in the back of his throat, creeping up slowly like a spider before stopping suddenly before it reached his mouth. It hummed, and then disappeared.
Danny smothered a frown. Since when did Batman work with ectoplasm? “This must be Damian." He says to Bruce, and holds out a hand to Damian -- he doesn't crouch, he had a feeling that Damian would be less than appreciative if he did that. "You've really expanded the nest since the last time I saw you."
Damian's eyes narrow at him. Bruce laughs lightly, "Ah yes, Tim is around here somewhere. I'm sure you'll see him soon."
"Father," Damian says, his voice layered with an accent. He glares up at Danny with piercing green eyes. "How do you know this man?" He sounds distrustful, Danny respects that and drops his hand.
"This is Danny Fenton." Bruce says, and Danny lets him introduce him. "He was Jason's friend."
An expression similar to bewilderment flashes briefly over Damian's face, and he eyes Danny in disbelief. "Todd had friends?"
Oh. So that's how he wanted to be. Bruce had a little elitist on his hands. Danny's smile drops like a deadweight, and any lingering endearment he had hardens like ice in his chest, fury slowly taking its place like a flickering candlelight. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead, Mister Wayne." He says coldly, his voice made of chips of ice.
Damian blinks, the disbelief disappearing from his face. The closest thing to a recoil Danny thinks he's going to get. He doesn't care. No one speaks about his best friend that way.
"I grew up with Jason, actually." He continues, breathing in slow and deep, trying to keep the ghostly possessive-protective-rage under control. "I was his best friend."
He turns, almost robotically, towards Bruce, and tries not to look so angry. "I'm going to go find Tim, Mister B." He says, and tries to offer up a weak smile for the man. It comes out as a grimace instead.
"And..." he pauses, flicks his eyes towards Damian, and then looks at Bruce. "I'll... try and keep in contact, B. Tell Dick I said hi, alright? I'll see you in a little bit."
Bruce nods, looking vaguely disappointed and sighing slow through his nose. Danny walks away as Bruce turns to address his youngest, and doesn't bother listening in on what he has to say.
He does, eventually, find Tim Drake. He spots him in a crowd instantly - it's hard not to, and he makes his way over to him. He's not sure Tim Drake would recognize him, Bruce didn't at first and Danny had been around him constantly.
Except Tim Drake does recognize him, much to Danny's surprise. They lock eyes and Tim immediately makes his way over to him. "Danny Fenton!" He says and stops in front of him, "What a surprise, we weren't expecting you tonight."
"Tim Drake," Danny replies, smiling a little as his earlier hurt begins to fade away. "I'm surprised you know me."
"There are pictures of you in the manor with Jason." Tim explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets with an easy-going smile. "It's hard not to know you."
"It’s hard not to know you too,” Danny retorts, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Although you’re a lot taller than you used to be, when you were lurking around Bruce and Jason and I.”
Ohhh Danny recognizes him alright. One part due to all the news articles and tabloids on him after he was adopted by Bruce, and the other part because he remembers the little shadow lurking near plants pots and table legs that used to follow him and Jason around at galas just like these.
Knowing that Jason was Robin, he wonders if Jason knew he was there too.
The effect is immediate: Tim’s eyes grow comically large, and a red tint glows at the tip of his ears as he shrinks back like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “You— you noticed that!?” He hisses.
“I did!” Danny grins, large and wide, stifling a laugh as the red tint spreads over Tim’s cheeks and nose. He looks mortified. Danny coos. “Aww, I thought it was adorable that Jason had a little shadow. I’m sure he would have loved you if you had just come over and said hi. He had a big soft spot for kids.”
Tim snorts and it— it almost sounds derisive? “Sure he would.” He looks sad, and the mirth in Danny’s chest shrivels up like a flower without light. The smile fades from his face, and all that’s left is a strange, staunch reminder that Danny and Bruce weren’t the only ones that probably mourned.
He touches Tim’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m sorry.” He says, trying to look as apologetic as he feels. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sorry, I miss him too.” Like a fucking limb he missed him.
There’s something that flickers in Tim’s eyes, passing through too fast for Danny to realize what it is. He assumes its gratefulness, because Tim relaxes a little and offers him a weak little smile. “I wish I had talked to him.”
Danny sees an out and takes it, he forces out a short laugh, grinning widely. “I can tell you all about him if you’d like,” he offers, “I told Mister B I’d keep in touch anyways. I’ve missed him and Alfred quite a lot in the last few years.”
“Not Dick?”
“That dipstick wasn’t around often enough for me to form any sort of emotional attachment to him.” Danny says in a half-complaining tone, placing his hands on his hips. “Although I did like his puns.”
Tim snickers, “I’ll tell him you said that then. Nobody likes his puns.”
“Go on ahead,” Danny grins, laughter swirling in his chest and making his core thrum with warmth. Damn, he’s missed this family. “I stand by my decision. Puns are funny.”
“Let’s get a photo then.” Tim says with a hand already fishing in his pocket for his phone. “He’ll be devastated to know that you were here and he didn’t get to see you.”
“Sure.” And Danny sidles on next to Tim, throwing an arm around his shoulders — and making a noise of surprise when his arm was able to fit comfortably — as if he was just resting it on a counter.
He totally forgot how tall he was compared to Tim. Forgot that he’d been looking down the entire time they’d been talking. “Why’d I get my dad’s height.” He complains, and bends his knees as Tim raises the phone with the front-facing camera on.
Tim snickers under his breath, and takes the picture while they’re both smiling wide. Danny immediately stands up, and peers over Tim’s shoulders to look at the picture.
It’s a good one, with the fringe of Danny’s curls falling slightly over his left eye and making the dimple on his right cheek more prominent. He could see the barely-there smattering of freckles he had across his nose, the ones that became more prominent when the sun was out. His smile was lopsided, Danny’s favorite kind of smile.
He whistles lowly, “That’s a good one,” he says aloud, and smiles impishly at Tim when he looks at him. “You should send that one, I look hot in it.”
Tim snorts, his ears reddening as he looks down at his phone. “Yeah sure, no problem.” He says quickly, and Danny looks away when he pulls up the messenger app. He’s never felt comfortable looking over people’s shoulders when they were on their phone.
“I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and curls his fingers around the box and lighter inside. “I’ll—“
“Be on the west-end balcony.” Tim finishes, the red in his ears darkening as he glances up from his phone to smile embarrassedly. “I know.”
Danny snorts, “Okay.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Let me know how Dipstick reacts, alright?” He backs up slowly, awaiting Tim’s response. Tim merely waves a hand at him, a weak gesture of “yeah yeah” that makes Danny grin before he flips around and marches towards his favorite smoking balcony.
———————
(Tim pulls up the family group chat and loads the selfie into the text bar. His face feels warm with embarrassment even as his thumbs fly across the screen.
Tim: look who i found at the latest charity gala :) [image]
Hee awaits eagerly a response, and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. Dick’s thought bubble appears on screen, then Cass’s — of which it only exists for a moment before disappearing.
Dick: holy shit, is that who i think it is?
Tim responds quickly, and his message sends.
Tim: yep. He wanted me to tell you that he thinks your jokes are funny.
Dick: they are funny
Tim rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment, really thinks. He weighs his pros and cons. And then his fingers fly across the screen again.
Tim: hey Jason are you not gonna say anything?
There’s no response for all of thirty seconds — of which it stretches on to an uncomfortably long minute — and then Jason’s thought bubble appears.
Jason: what do i have to say to a bunch of idiots blowing up my phone in the middle of patrol?
Tim: harsh. do you recognize the guy in the photo?
Jason’s response is instant. Too fast for him to have actually looked at the photo itself. He’s just trying to spite Tim then. Tim doesn’t care, he has the upper hand here
Jason: no and I don’t care, i have patrol
Tim knows he didn’t look at the photo, and yet he can’t help stifle a shit-eating smile and feign innocence
Tim: really? You and Danny used to be so close, color me surprised
His teeth dig into his lower lip, he doesn’t need to in order to hide a smile. But it gives him something to do. Jason is worryingly silent for a long, long time, and Tim can almost imagine him staring long and hard at the selfie. Tim knows he will be later.
Finally, Jason’s text bubble shows up. It exists for a long time, before finally Tim’s phone buzzes with his message alert.
Jason: that’s danny?
Tim feels all too gleeful. Smugness swirling in his chest like kicked up sand as he types his response: yep! Apparently he showed up today, although I’m not sure with who since I don’t see Miss Manson around here.
Damian: Father says to get off your phone, Drake. We are at a Gala and your behavior is most unbecoming
Tim: can it demon spawn, I was just telling Jason that his friend Danny is here
Damian: He can’t be too important if he doesn’t even know Todd is alive
Tim: how would you know that?
Damian: When Father introduced him as Todd’s friend, I expressed my surprise that Todd even had friends, considering how unpleasant he can be. Fenton became quite cross with me after that and quickly excused himself thereafter
Dick: you said what!? Damian that’s not okay
Damian: Father made that quite clear after Fenton left in a huff. My mistake for thinking that Todd had told his ‘supposed best friend’ that he was alive.
Dick: he didn’t even tell us we were alive at first
Damian: He did eventually, didn’t he? Clearly Todd doesn’t seem to care too much about Fenton if he hasn’t even informed him of his being alive at this point.
Jason’s thought bubble quickly pops up, and then dissipates, then pops up again. Tim quickly pockets his phone before he can see Jason’s response. He doesn’t feel smug anymore, just uncomfortable.)
———————
Stepping out onto the west-end balcony feels like a blast from the past. A painful one at that. Danny’s fingers dig into his cigarette pack, and he pulls it out with a sense of bittersweet familiarity.
It feels like a lifetime ago that he once stood here with Jason. The package clunks dully as his fingers scrape against the side, and he fishes a cigarette out of the box before stuffing it back into his pocket.
“Quite the night isn’t it.” He says to nothing, to ghosts of the past, to himself. He turns and sits on the railing, sticking his legs out like a tripping hazard while Gotham’s hot city wind blows through the air.
He looks up and only sees the ugly pollution yellow sky looking down at him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him. He loves the stars and yet when faced with a smog that covers it, he feels more at home.
Danny’s fingers find the lighter, and with a few clicks a small open flame appears in existence. There’s a poem here, he can feel it. But he feels too tired to find it.
The cigarette lights, and the lighter dies in response. Returning back to his coffin-like pocket until he needs to use it again. He pulls a leg up, resting his chin on his knee with a heavy, tired sigh.
He soaks in the sounds around him. The ugly city warmth nips at his jaw. The music inside is muffled by the force of two glass doors and walls on all four sides, and Danny can hear late night traffic coming by on the road nearby. It’s a special kind of ambience you can only find on the west end balcony.
Half a decade ago, Danny had played a part with that ambience with Jason. Now it was just him, and Jason was nowhere to be found. It left a hopeless kind of feeling in his chest. An all-suffocating kind of fear that filled him head to toe with an intensity only ghosts could have.
His body winds up like a spring, and Danny holds his breath. When he exhales two minutes later, the spring stutters and jolts, and his body relaxes with a tremble.
He misses Jason. He misses Jason.
Ghosts are emotional creatures. They feel it from their crown to their soles. And emotional wounds never really heal. They scab over and fester, waiting to be picked at again and again so it can bleed as fresh as it did when it first opened.
Danny’s grief is never going to go away, he thinks. It’s clung to him like a parasite; shaped him and molded him. The wound was too close to him when he died, and now it will stay with him forever.
He opens his eyes when his ghost sense tingles, a heavy feeling in his throat that is neither nicotine nor grief. It’s just like Damian’s, but stronger. Potent. Older. It reaches the top of Danny’s throat and sits at the base of his tongue, like a hand about to suffocate him.
He looks up, cigarette hanging off his lips, and the Red Hood drops down beside him. He stands in the same spot Jason once did, and that alone makes the ghostly core in Danny seize possessively.
Don’t you dare stand where he stood, it hisses, coiling around his lungs like smog. Danny grits his teeth and feels his ghost sense evaporate. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and nicotine smoke pours out like a cheap version of his ghost sense.
“Red Hood.” He says plainly, his free hand coiling and uncoiling like cat’s claws against the railing. “A surprise to see you here.”
Danny knows through process of elimination who most of the Gotham vigilantes are: Dick is Nightwing, Bruce is Batman, Tim is Red Robin, Damian is Robin, and Cass is Orphan. There are a few who he doesn’t know, however. Like Batgirl and Red Hood.
It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know. Danny of all people understands the importance of a secret identity.
Red Hood doesn’t say anything, just stares at him as if he’s a deer in headlights. His body all tensed up like he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here in front of Danny. Like he wasn’t expecting Danny to be here at all.
Danny’s brows furrow. “Sorry, am I in your spot?” He asks, and begins to push off the railing. “I didn’t think vigilantes used the Wayne Hall west-end balcony, I can leave if you want.”
He’s already begun to move towards the door.
The Red Hood lurches in his spot, “No!” He yells, and Danny stops in place with raising eyebrows. Red Hood’s fingers cringe, and he straightens up.
He’s shorter than Danny, he notes. Which isn’t much of revelation. Everyone is shorter than Danny.
“No,” Red Hood repeats, sounding sturdier than before, “No. You’re fine. I’m just stopping here for a quick rest before resuming patrol.”
…Danny doesn’t question it. It’s none of his business about other vigilantes and their practices. He shrugs and breathes out more smoke, “Alright.” He says, and walks back over to the railing to sit on it. “I’m Danny, by the way.”
The Red Hood nods, and a silence falls over them. Danny doesn’t care enough to make it feel uncomfortable, but the Red Hood seems unsettled by something. Lost in thought. He leans his back against the railing similar to Danny, and then switches a few seconds later to a new pose.
He does it again, and again, and again. Until finally he flips over and leans his stomach against the railing, arms resting against it. It is starkly like what Jason used to do, and Danny stares at him long and hard.
He frowns. And says nothing.
When Danny’s cigarette is nothing more than a butt of nicotine, he crushes it in his hand and watches the ash flutter down to the ground. The heat stings his hand, but its nothing his ghostly healing can’t fix.
The Red Hood is already holding out another one when Danny’s hand drifts to his pocket for the box.
Danny stares at him, sudden wariness opening up like floodgates that sit at the bottom of his stomach.
His frown deepens, his eyes flicker up and down at Red Hood. His hands hover over his pocket. “I have my own.” He says, and watches subtly as the Red Hood hides a wilt. As if he’d been expecting Danny to take it.
“Alright.” The Red Hood says, trying to sound unbothered. He retracts the cigarette away from Danny, quiet all the way. He’s looking away.
Danny plucks the cigarette out of his hand, startling the Hood enough that Red snaps back to look at him. Danny yanks his lighter from his pocket. “I won’t say no to a free cigarette.” He says, slightly muffled with the stick between his teeth. It lights.
Silence falls over them again, and when one minute stretches into five, whatever hope that had been digging into the shoulders of Red Hood finally pulls away and leaves him slumping subtly.
‘A ciggie for your thoughts?’ Nine year old Jason Todd whispers one night with an impish grin, holding up a cigarette pinched between his two fingers. ‘I stole it from my old man. He won’t even notice its gone.’
Danny is halfway through it when he speaks. “The Joker killed my best friend.” He says, and watches from the corner of his eye as the Red Hood flinches. Is he startled by Danny speaking, or startled by the bluntness of him starting?
“He beat him to death.” Danny continues, staring stone-faced away from Red Hood. His grief claws up his lungs and burrows into his heart again. His fingers dig into the railing. “He beat my best friend to death.”
The Red Hood is silent, his body as still as the grave. Silence stretches out between them both, and like he’d been thinking, the Hood finally speaks: “How do you know?”
He’s not holding the cigarette, he broke his and Jason’s rule. Danny bounces the stick between his fingers. “His ghost told me.” He says, taking a trembling breath. “His ghost told me so, before he disappeared.”
The Red Hood says nothing, and Danny gathers his thoughts. The ones that had been buried deep next to his core, shoved down ever since Danny learned of Rath and a terrible future where a world is destroyed by one ghost’s hands.
Danny has never said it out loud before. His face scrunches up briefly, and then smooths out when his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m going to kill him, Red Hood.” He murmurs when he opens his eyes, turning his face toward the vigilante. The sound is sucked out of the air.
The Red Hood stares at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Danny pushes on, teeth grinding into teeth as he flips his silvery scarred hand back and forth. Palm up, palm down. “It’s why I haven’t been back to Gotham in a while.” He admits, voice still quiet. “If I see the Joker I will kill him, and I won’t feel bad for it.”
“Not today though,” he says, and closes his hand, “today I’m here on a favor to Vlad Masters. Then after this I’ll go visit my friend. I need to apologize for not seeing his grave in a while. I’ll have to stop by a florist to see if they have any zinnias. Jay likes those.”
He takes out the cigarette in his mouth and breathes out one last cloud of smoke. And then he crushes the cigarette stick under his foot and walks back inside.
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sinsirellaxx · 2 months
Note
Man I love your toxic Slytherin boys writings (I reread them as my bedtime stories every night since I found your account 🤭) but knowing my personality and temper, there's no way I would let their toxicity slide 😩🫸
Pls pls pls pretty pls will you write where we put them in their place and have them grovel and trail after us like a lost puppy? 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️
Slytherin Boys – What they’ re like if you put them in their place
Warning: Toxic Slytherin boys 😌
A/N: Thank you so much! That is very sweet of you – hope you always have sweet dreams! 🤭 Honestly, same – I love a good temper! Hope you like what I have come up with! And sorry that some are a bit shorter than the rest! If you want a part two (for the groveling and trailing part) let me know! (I didn't include this here and I only noticed that it was part of the request now – so, sorry about that)
On another note: I've added Tom Riddle to the boys and will be doing so from now on! Comments are appreciated!
Mattheo …
… is shocked. He was used to always getting away with things, given the status he had attained through his family name – and his own actions. In his past relationships (or situationships) he had his girls practically kiss his feet and were ready to do everything for him and to him. But here you were, his first real relationship and apparently the boon and bane of his existence. You were getting ready for the party in your common room and had chosen a rather risky black skin-tight dress for that evening. Mattheo usually never cared about what his dates or girls wore – actually, he loved them to wear revealing clothes because he wanted to show off. But with you, he hated the idea of other people staring at you. He’d walked into your dorm room before the party – also something he had never done before – and immediately shook his head upon seeing your dress. “Absolutely not.”
You turned to look at him in confusion, closing the lip gloss you had just applied before putting it back into your make-up bag.
“You can’t wear that. The dress is way too short and – just no.” Mattheo glared as he looked you up and down. “I don’t want anyone to stare at you with like that. You’re mine –“
You scoffed loudly, fully erupting into a laugh as you stared at him with raised brows.
The frown on Mattheo’s face deepened as you walked up to him, placing your hand on his cheek as you slowly shook your head. It’s sweet you think you can tell me what to wear – because you can’t. You spoke smirking at him. And I’m not yours.So please get that silly idea out of your head. You can’t tell me what to do. You tapped his cheek slightly before walking towards your door, leaving Mattheo no time to react. The door closed behind you leaving him to brood in silence as he breathed through his nose, his hands clenched at his sides.
Well fuck.
Theodore …
… is kind of pissed but also kind of turned on. He can’t decide which feeling is stronger. You two have been fighting over you refusing to always tell him where you’re going and with whom. If he had asked nicely, you probably would have told him. But Theodore had been rude and controlling about it.
“You can’t just go wherever you want without telling me first. I need to know where you are and with whom you are.” The tall male demanded as he had you pressed against the door to your dorm room. He had waited for your arrival at the top of the stairs because he wanted to talk to you. You had ignored all his calls and messages, and he was livid with you – how dare you not answer him?
Upon seeing him you had rushed past him, with the hopes of closing the door to your room right in his face but he was quicker than you had expected.
You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time, obviously annoyed by his antics.
Fuck off. Get off my fucking dick, Nott.
Theo smirked, he loved when you got bratty. “No, but you can jump on mine.” He whispered against your ear as he opened the door to your room and pushed you inside.
Lorenzo …
… is speechless. Lorenzo Berkshire is known to have many girl friends falling for his prince-like appearance. He enjoys the attention and loves to feed his ego. It was something that you had to get used to when you agreed to be with him, but you eventually found your peace with it. You were sitting on Enzo’s bed with your phone in your hands, typing away and smiling at the screen.
Lorenzo noticed your smile and raised his brow as he watched your fingers move quickly. If not for the typing, he would have thought you were watching cute animal videos, but he was sure you were chatting with someone. He couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you texting?”
You didn’t answer at first, your fingers still moving until you finished your last message. As you clicked ‘send’ you lifted your head to look at your boyfriend. You told Enzo you were talking with your seat-neighbor about something funny that had happened in divination that day.
“Oh, is it Granger?” He added, growing slightly nervous because you left out the most important detail. Who was it, that made you smile like that at your screen? Lorenzo was known for being – well he tried to be – patient with you. He loved you after all. He had managed to be in almost every single class you had – except for divination. Ever since the beginning of the term he’d been thinking about it: Who were you sitting with? Were there many boys? Would you talk to any of them?
You finally answered him: Harry Potter. Enzo felt this weird warmth spread through his whole body as his heart started beating incredibly fast, his hands unconsciously balling up into fists to prevent them from trembling.
“You are friends with Potter?” He spat, putting special emphasis on the Chosen One’s name. Oh, how he hated that boy. You just nodded; your phone vibrated in your lap. Lorenzo ripped the phone out of your hand before you even managed to unlock the screen. “I don’t want you to talk to him. Block him.”
You just rolled your eyes at him and demanded him to give you your phone back.
“No.” He shook his head and stood up from the bed, already typing in your code he had managed to figure out from staring at your screen whenever you unlocked it.
“I don’t want you to have any male friends – am I not enough for you?” His voice raised a notch as he held you at arm’s length with his left hand while trying to open the messenger app with his right one. He clicked on the chat with ‘Harry’ and read through the messages, scoffing as he saw just how much you have been chatting with him. His face contorting in anger as he reread the messages from last night.
“You’re planning on going to Hogsmeade with him?!”
“Fuck, no.” He exclaimed loudly, rolling his eyes when you had finally managed to get your phone back before he could send whatever message he had typed in.
“You won’t go.” Lorenzo added with finality, glaring at you in hopes of intimidating you into submission.
He expected you to cry and get insecure, but he did not expect you to scoff at him, hands on your hips as you told him he couldn’t tell you what to do. You quickly grabbed your things and left the room not bothering to close the door after you. He could do that himself.
Lorenzo was too stunned to speak.
Draco …
… (almost) has a panic attack. Remember that scene in the bathroom in the sixth movie, where Harry finds him? Yeah – that kind of panic attack. You had just told him to leave you alone until he got his head out of his ass because he had threatened to break up with you if you didn’t break off your friendship with the golden trio. Draco would not have expected you to walk out on him – he usually always got what he wanted, and this turn of events completely threw him off. He gripped the front of his shirt as he gasped for air, the other hand combing through his hair as he paced through his room.
Rushing into the bathroom he splashed his face with cold water as nothing else seemed to help. When he finally lifted his head to look at his reflection in the mirror he had to accept the truth: He apparently needed you more than you needed him.
He would have to win you back. Even if he had to beg.
Blaise …
… would think you were joking when you told him you didn’t need him to protect you.
You were fuming as you pushed Blaise’s hands off, telling him that what he had done was completely wrong and uncalled for.
“Why are you mad?  I just protected you, doll. I saw the way he looked at you.” Blaise tried to reason with you. He couldn’t just sit still when another boy tried getting closer to you. Over his dead body. But you didn’t seem to agree with him as you shook your head in disbelief. “I didn’t push him away for no reason, did I?” He sighed, growing impatient with you as told him that there had been no reason to hurt the other boy. “Babe, I did it for you, you know?” And that was the last straw for you as you yelled at him to leave you alone. You are suffocating me, Blaise. This is over – we are over!
Blaise knew then that he had overstepped your boundaries. Again. He should have run after you and begged for your forgiveness right away. But he also knew that you probably would need some time to cool down. You’d be back in his arms soon, he was sure of it.
Tom Riddle ...
... would let you have your moment. Tom had been bored nowadays and he was actually intrigued to know how far you'd go and what you'd do exactly.
Tom is known to be an intimidating and bossy persona – he is the born leader one could say. Seeing as he is the oldest son of the Dark Lord that came as no surprise to anyone. Everyone had high expectations of him so he projected all that pressure onto you: You had to be perfect. Not what you deemed as perfect but what he thought was perfection. At first you let him control you, blinded by love and the attraction you felt for him. But after months of dating, and his demands getting increasingly more suffocating you have had enough.
Your complaints and worries, however, were met by indifference. Tom did not care. "What do you expect me to say?" He spoke lowly as he looked up at you from where he was sat on his bed.
You just blinked at him dumbfoundedly not sure what outcome you had expected.
"You knew what you were getting into, when I asked you to be my girlfriend." Tom tilted his head as he leaned back on his arms. "Now, if you have anything else to add to this ... very productive conversation, please, go ahead. If not, get on your knees."
There it was again. The hurt and the humiliation. He only wanted one thing and nothing else. But this time, you wouldn't let yourself be manipulated. This time, you told him to go fuck himself before storming out of his room.
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months
Note
can you make a fic about yan!fboyjk and yan!cheaterjk for me? i don’t have a specific plot in my mind so you can do anything to your liking :))
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Pairing | cheater!fboy!yan!Jungkook x Reader
Word Count | 4.242
Warnings | +18, talk about marriage and cheating, smut, dubcon, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), Jungkook is sweet but also scary, angst, forced relationship, manipulation
Yandere genre is very strong, if you don't like it, don't read. If you are not of age, don't read. I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
⤷ Summary | You want to leave Jungkook, but he is not of the same opinion, It doesn't matter if he did wrong, you are his.
➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Thank you for the request! I hope you like the story, please ask me for more stories, I am happy to write for you 🥰
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You and Jungkook have been always sure about your future, you would get married and live happily ever after like in the most beautiful fairy tale. So why are you crying? Why do you refuse to take your eyes off that scene? Your brain refuses to recognize those angelic features that had caught you in a dense network of colorful, sparkling dreams as a child. That cannot be the same man who swore to you in front of all your relatives eternal love, with a ring in his hand and a wonderful, sweet smile drawn on his lips. Yet who can it be but Jungkook, the man who at that moment holds in his arms a woman unknown to you? You went to the gym to surprise your boyfriend, he had been disappearing for hours for some time under the guise of training for the wedding, he wanted to keep in shape to be perfect for you… just for you. But there he is, at the entrance of the gym whispering something in the ear of the blond-haired woman, who in return smiles cheekily at his joke, running a hand over his strong, trained chest. They seem very close, there is definitely confidence between them. You finally look away, feeling incredibly wrong, and take a step back, then another and another.
You start running in the opposite direction, all to forget that scene, to forget Jungkook's smug eyes staring at a woman who is not you. When you get home you feel incredibly weak, you sit almost collapsing on the bed, in your brain a bunch of ideas start swirling around in your head, ideas that block your breath in your throat. It's not even the first time it's happened, you realize, it's happened before that you've noticed something strange in your relationship, but you've never given it any credence. You don't want to think anymore. Forget, forget, forget.
"Smells good, love," the man leaves a sweet kiss on your neck, pressing his soft lips to caress your skin, "Is my girl getting ready to spoil me yet?" Jungkook holds you tightly in his arms, practically purring against your body. You find yourself smiling between his cuddles, continuing to stir the meat stew simmering in the pot. "You're just saying that because you're hungry," you chuckle gently. You found yourself shaking like a leaf in anxiety for days, believing that sooner or later Jungkook would come to you to tell you that he was leaving you for another woman, but none of that happened, Jungkook is still the same, showering you with attention and adoring you, and still wanting to marry you. Perhaps you had misunderstood the situation, that blond woman must be a friend and you jumped to conclusions, you should have asked Jungkook for explanations, but you still feel something holding you back from doing so. It is fear, a deep and treacherous fear.
"I say this because you are too good to me," he whispers seriously, causing you to turn toward him. His serious eyes chain yours and you feel lost, watching the wonder of that glittering obsidian staring at you encompassing you with possession, Jungkook licks his lips, the rosy soft tip furrowing those inviting petals before he moves closer to you, the electricity between your bodies bursting into lightning bolts as your lips meet, softly joining in an adoring kiss full of dominance. Somehow Jungkook manages to turn off the stove behind you, grabbing your head in a grip that forces you to deepen the kiss under the pressure of his hot tongue pressing repeatedly on your lips to demand access to your mouth. In each touch of Jungkook you lose yourself, accepting the force with which he takes your lips moaning and grabbing a few wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His tongue entwines with yours creating a wet and sensual dance, feeling him slow and hot inside your mouth turns you on in an incredible way. His taste is dope and Jungkook thinks the same of yours, sucking your tongue like delicious candy and smiling. It is always like that, if he wants something, he takes it. And you at that moment happily offer him your body, your feelings and your soul. They are all his.
He grips your hips in his hands, pressing you against his hot body, he needs you and with trembling legs you leave him in charge, he takes you to the couch where he makes you lie down leaving behind a trail of light, soft kisses along your jaw and neck, he stares at you now with half-closed eyes, the man finds himself thinking that you probably don't know how much you are actually giving him. With your clothes now on the floor and your panties lowered to your knees you let your head fall back, clenching your lower lip between your teeth, gentle waves of pleasure envelop your body, Jungkook with one hand travels up your belly to stop at your breasts, which he squeezes possessively as he wraps his tongue around your swollen clitoris, licking and sucking it repeatedly before poking your soggy slit with his fingertips, entering it only slightly, just enough to let your sweet essence out and lick it away with his tongue and enjoy the taste of you that has always driven him wild. You're getting closer and closer to your first orgasm, and you know it won't be the only one; you squeeze his head between your soft, smooth thighs, but he forces you to stay still by pushing his palms on your delicate skin, continuing to eat away at your quivering folds until a wonderful, satisfying sensation grips your belly and explodes into millions of tiny stars behind your closed eyelids.
"Jungkook! S-stop!" you shake your hips trying to make him stop and he stops only after sucking your sensitive pearl against his palate one last time. Kissing your folds and moving up your skin he stops at your belly, licking slowly down to your navel and you shudder still shaken from your orgasm, he only begins to remove his pants and boxers once he reaches your breasts, where he breathes in the scent of your soft skin and takes a delicate nipple in his mouth, attaching it and beginning to caress it with the tip of his tongue, sending delicious shivers throughout your body. "Open those beautiful legs for me, sweetheart," he gives you two light pats on the knee and makes you spread your legs wide, satiating his hungry, smug eyes. He loves the power you let him wield over you. You lick your lips at the sight of his straining, cum-shiny cock, wanting to taste it, to feel that length filling your mouth and leaving you breathless, but Jungkook pushes you back against the couch firmly, shaking his head amusedly. "Later, love," he murmurs finally taking off the tight t-shirt he is wearing, you find yourself gazing at his defined and gorgeous abs with the driest of throats, he doesn't let you touch him to your disappointment, you want to caress his chest, play with his sensitive nipples, but with a firm, hard kiss he guides himself between your legs, sinuously sliding into your wet entrance with his thick, hard cock, you widen your eyes and a deep moan leaves your throat. Your sensitive folds vibrate delightedly with each of his slow, firm lunges, your arms wrap around his neck and your hips move with his, in the room you can only hear the sounds of your bodies coming together and your wheezing moans, Jungkook grunts in your ear something after a particularly hard thrust and your eyes narrow, the thick tip of his cock is hitting a particularly sensitive spot that makes more moisture gush from your pussy.
"Jungkook, I'm coming again," you whimper softly inhaling his scent, the man nods as he continues to press into that sensitive area, and you move his hair behind his ear before leaving a kiss on one side of his neck. Then something makes you miss a beat. You hadn't noticed it before because it was hidden by his rather long hair, but just below his ear is a mark. It looks like a mark- a hickey -the color is tending toward purple and your heartstrings tug painfully.
You drive your nails into his shoulders with frost enveloping your limbs, you don't want to look any further, tears accumulate in the corners of your eyes and Jungkook blames your oncoming climax, he kisses them drying them with his lips and that gesture makes you scream internally, why is he so sweet and attentive? It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. With his free hand he reaches down between your bodies beginning to circle with his thumb around your clit, his pelvis moves faster, he is coming, soon he would fill you with his cum and for the first time ever you find yourself faking an orgasm with Jungkook, your delicate walls tighten around his cock, accompanying him to the end of his pleasure, but you feel nothing more. Jungkook collapses on top of you, kissing your forehead and cheeks, then finishing with your lips, but your heart is shattered. The man you love does not actually love you. "I love you, Y/N," he says, a lie you are no longer willing to believe.
There was always something wrong with the attention Jungkook was getting at school, you often attended the same classes and you always got the evil eyes of the other girls on you, you had even tried to ask the boy why, but he had always explained that they were simply jealous of your relationship and you were not supposed to pay attention to them. And you had believed him, after all, you always believed him. But now you regret giving him all that power.
"Jungkook, do you have another woman?" Your wedding is only a month away, and you can't marry a man who doesn't love you. Jungkook from his side almost chokes on his energy drink, he stares at you as if you had two heads instead of one, you are in the parking lot of his gym, you went to pick him up and you can tell he had recently showered, the ends of his hair are still damp and curled. "Shit, Y/N! Is that something to tell your future husband? We're getting married in exactly one month, heck no! I don't have another woman!" he blurts out seemingly speechless, you tighten your lips in response. "Hey ... Baby, what's going on?" he whispers softly, trying to take your chin between his fingers, but you quickly flinch away from him, who rolls his eyes in response. "What's going on is this, Jungkook," you growl, suddenly lifting some dark locks from his neck, exposing a small but remarkable detail. There are slight bite marks that are healing, you had noticed it a few days before, but you didn't have the courage to point it out, until now.
You're tired, you don't want to put up with such a situation anymore. "Stop teasing me, I hate it when you're so sweet to me, when it's clear that you're having fun behind my back with who knows how many other women!" you shout with glazed eyes, Jungkook immediately losing the confusion etched on his face, finally letting a serious and icy look shine through. "This is not the place to talk about this, Y/N. Let's go home," he hisses, not even trying to deny it one more time. This shocks you deeply. He doesn't seem to care that you finally know the truth. "I really think this is the right place, instead" you don't want to cry, so you hold back your tears by chasing them back, "You lied to me and betrayed me, I don't want to marry a man like you" the disgust in your voice makes him wince, if he thought he was going to solve things by using some bullshit catchphrases, well, he was very wrong. You make to get out of the car, you would have taken a cab rather than be with him again in that cramped and stifling space, you want to vent your emotions in a more secluded place, but Jungkook tightens a hand around your wrist.
"Don't you want to marry a man like me? My love, you may not realize that you have no other choice! We have always been together and we will always be together! You swore it to me more than once and you even did it in front of our parents!" he exclaims fiercely, tightening his grip painfully, you squeeze your eyes shut in pain. "You're hurting me," you murmur terrified by his sudden change. "Well, maybe you deserve it, don't you think?" he asks cruelly. You know Jungkook particularly cares about his parents' judgment, but you didn't think he would go that far to make them happy, so a worse doubt germinates in you. "You never loved me! You only want to be with me because our parents always wanted it that way" you want to vomit, were you really that blind? Jungkook quickly shakes his head, "Of course I love you, even though you're making me angry with this absurd talk of yours." "You don't love me, if you really loved me you wouldn't cheat on me with other women" you find the strength to break free from his grip, your pulse is red and pumping blood quickly. "I-" he freezes, his eyes dark with fury, "You don't understand, you can't blame me alone for all this!"
Jungkook knows he was wrong; in fact, he wouldn't have even wanted to start. But when you got together you were young and you had insisted on losing your virginity only once you had reached adulthood and thus the necessary maturity, you did not want your first time to be driven only by the pure hormonal instincts of two teenagers, and Jungkook had never had the courage to insist, because you seemed quite convinced about your ideas. But he needed what you were unwilling to give him, and so he cheated on you for the first time in a school bathroom after class, and he had hated himself no matter how many more countless times, but the more he got the more he wanted more, and even when you had finally given yourself to him, cheating had become an impossible vice to let go of, and the idea that you would always be left waiting for him was particularly tempting. But now it no longer seems that way; you want to leave, to leave him, and he cannot allow it. "You drove me crazy with your constant 'We're too young' or 'Let's wait a little longer'!" You open your mouth wide in shock, "No, don't blame me! You never told me you were against my ideas, and anyway, that's no reason to betray a person you say you love."
You have to get out of that car, you can't wait a second longer. The situation is worse than you thought, he has been cheating on you since the beginning of your story, you are nauseated. "You disgust me," you say before you open the door, you turn to get out, but suddenly your vision goes black, you feel Jungkook press his hand against your nose and mouth, before wrapping an arm around your neck.
When you wake up you realize you are no longer in the car, but you are not even in your house. The only thing you remember is Jungkook making you faint, then nothingness. You look around and what you see is a small room, the walls are lilac and it's littered with puppets of all kinds and colors, the mirror in front of the single bed you're lying on makes it clear the way you've been dressed. You're wearing a high school uniform and your hands are tied to the headboard, you widen your eyes and try to free yourself by pulling at the fabric used to hold you like that. "You've woken up." Jungkook makes his appearance from the bathroom connected to the small bedroom, he is adjusting his dark blue tie and you also notice his attire, he is dressed in a school uniform just like you. "What does all this mean, is this a joke?" you hiss less than amused, but Jungkook doesn't flinch. "I've come to a conclusion," he says as he approaches the bed, you try to get as far away from him as possible by bringing your free legs to your chest, you don't recognize the man in front of you, "I don't want to cheat on you, ever again."
He seems sincere, but you don't trust him. He has broken your heart too many times to deserve trust from you again. "I don't believe you, you're a liar," you say in fact, Jungkook tightens his lips. "I have my conditions," he says anyway, ignoring your words, "You'll still marry me and we'll make up for all the moments you made us miss," he murmurs dangerously, sitting down on the bed and letting a hand approach your thigh, you become an ice statue instantly, finally understanding the reason behind your uniforms. "You're crazy, I'm not going to marry you and we're not going to get anything back at all, to be honest I haven't had an orgasm with you in weeks, just the thought of a traitor like you touching me makes me lose the will to fuck," you murmur angrily, jerking away from his hand in a stinging manner. Jungkook narrows his eyes into two slits, he wanted to be nice to you, but you just don't understand. He's going to use forceful manners, then. "Why must you force me to hurt you, my love?" You look at him terrified, what does he mean?
"Jungkook, don't do anything you might regret, please." He grips your face hard in his hands, staring at you with those deep, dark pools you've always loved, pinning you in place before snapping a deep kiss. You stubbornly keep your lips tight, but Jungkook bites your lower lip forcing you to scream, his voluptuous tongue immediately making room in your mouth and groaning in protest as he plunders your oral cavity. "You'll change your mind, Y/N, by hook or by crook," he hums in your ear with a veil of amusement shining through his voice-who the hell is this man? Jungkook studies you carefully before running his hands over your hips, you shudder at his touch and his fingers stop above the buttons of your school blouse. "You will have only my body, Jungkook," you say in a colorless voice, trying to escape from that absurd reality, the boy opens your blouse, showing off the lace of your pink bra, he observes the graceful shape of your breasts longingly before returning his gaze to you. "I will have everything of you: soul, heart, body -- everything," he whispers before leaning over you, inhaling your scent straight from your bare skin.
"Where have you taken me?" "Haven't you figured it out yet?" You frown, then finally understand. It is his room from when he was a child, that means-. "We're at your parents' house." Jungkook nods. "Do you remember what happened in this room, Y/N?" Yes, you remember, but you don't want to say it out loud, that would make what Jungkook wants to do real. "You rejected me," he hisses suddenly, ripping your blouse off once and for all, you squeal in fright at his force and widen your eyes. He looks furious, his hands are shaking and his shoulders have stiffened under the weight of his fury, "I wanted you and you walked away! No matter how many times we did it when you made up your mind, you still rejected me and forced me to beg from other girls!" he exclaims, totally delirious before attaching his lips to the visible skin of your breasts, you wriggle trying to push him away, but he is too strong, Jungkook is not there with you. He is lost in his memories and blaming you for his betrayals.
Bitter tears accumulate in the corners of your eyes, it's not your fault. It's not your fault at all, but maybe... maybe if you had been more attentive to his needs, too, you would have been enough for him? When he grabs your pussy from above the fabric of your panties you arch your back against your will, his strong and powerful presence still has its hold on you and you tremble trying to stop yourself, you don't know if you are more scared or excited. "Jungkook-" "Say you're sorry," you widen your eyes. "What?" you gasp, his index finger going under the fabric and circling your slit. "Say you're sorry for rejecting me so many times, say you're sorry for all the times you made me feel like an ugly, worthless little boy!" You shake your head, "I never-" you groan, his index finger penetrating you and gently moving a few inches above your soaked entrance, you stiffen at the flame that suddenly invades your limbs. How does he still do this to you? After weeks spent in total apathy, it is now lighting you up in more ways than one, why?
Then you remember, " I don't want to cheat on you, ever again," are such simple words enough to get your body to react? Your body is corrupted by Jungkook, vibrating under his forbidden touch and practically purring, more moisture gushes from your slit, which widens to envelop the second finger Jungkook adds to his penetration, you are trembling trying not to push your hips against the boy, but it is harder than you thought. "I don't want you," you murmur, shaking your head, Jungkook looking at you firmly, tickling sensitive spots that only he knows and is able to reach. "Say it again as you come on my fingers, my love." An unsettling feeling of warmth swells in your lower abdomen. You deny it once more with your head, trying to stop your trembling legs, but it is too late, your walls tightening around his long, deft fingers, exploding in an orgasm you have longed for. "Why are you doing this to me?" you cry, moving your arms forcefully; Jungkook stops you, preventing you from hurting yourself with the ribbons that bind you.
"I wanted to make you pay for all the times you said no by making me feel like a poor, inexperienced fool," he says clutching your skirt with fingers smeared with your liquid pleasure, "But things got out of hand," he stammers, a stinger reaches your heart and your stomach sinks. You don't want to think about how many times he has devoted himself to another woman's body, it hurts too much. "You never told me about it," your words come out in a breathy voice, you try to hold back the sobs. Jungkook moves on top of you, "We will be happy, Y/N" he kisses your forehead moving between your legs, you feel him unzip his pants and enter you with one thrust, it is easy to enter you, you are completely wet and close your eyes listening to his rough, lustful sighs. His swollen cock moves penetrating you repeatedly, the bed moves under his precise and direct strokes and you squeeze your eyes shut, your clitoris throbbing and quivering seeking more direct stimulation and a sigh escapes your lips when the man presses his pelvis against your pubis, crushing your sensitive pearl while with the tip of his cock he reaches to stimulate a particularly receptive spot, you watch the strands of his hair sticking to your sweat-dampened forehead and his eyes begging you not to leave him.
"Y/N!" he moans your name while squinting, "Y/N!" he pushes harder between your soft walls and pulls with his arms on the ropes that keep you tied to the bed. "Jung-" you bite your tongue, refusing to moan his name, but the boy disagrees and demands that you look at him. "I'm sorry, I'll never cheat on you again, I mean it," he whimpers into your ear, "I only love you, only you," he moans and you find yourself closing your eyes, not wanting to give in, not really wanting to, but... "I'm-I'm sorry...for rejecting you" you stammer, pleasure rising once again and the hope of mending your relationship dancing in your chest, "I'm sorry for making you feel unfit." "The others... I just wanted to prove myself" thus confesses his feeling of inadequacy, you know you shouldn't forgive him anyway, but you love him too much, "But now I realize it's only to you that I have to prove something, forgive me" and so you let yourself be corrupted even in your soul. Just a gesture of your head is enough to allow him to come deeply inside you, your breath quickening as you reach for him clutching him in the deepest part of you, throwing your head back. Moments later he unties the knot that binds you to the bed and kisses your wrists softly, murmuring about how perfect you are for him and that once we were married, all would be forgotten because he only wants you. A tear slides down your cheek.
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angelltheninth · 9 months
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Heyo, I literally been trying to find your account for so long (my last one got deleted and I couldn't find yours) and I'm so happy I've found it again and especially at the time when your requests are open
Would I be allowed to request Miguel ohara being absolutely smitten with reader hcs? Idk like Smitten!Miguel or something 😭
Smitten like the kitten he is.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, head over heals, playful biting, teasing, cuddles, purring, kissing against the wall, smitten!Miguel
A/N: Two Spiderverse posts today?! Yup!
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Smitten!Miguel who ends up staring at you rather then whatever mission report he's supposed to be reading through. For him you're the centerpiece of every room, you will draw his eyes to you the moment you walking and he'll be so caught up in looking at you that Lyla's voice will make him jump from his seat.
Smitten!Miguel who will laugh at your jokes no matter what, only your jokes. It would get really awkward if no one else laughs along with him, not that he cares, he wants you to know that he finds you funny and fun to be around, that you brighten up his day,
Smitten!Miguel who always puts you on missions with him so he can flirt with you. This implies both before and after your relationship turns romantic. When you're on missions he pays very close attention to you, he wants to know the full extent of your abilities. And... also make sure he can watch your back more efficiently.
Smitten!Miguel who starts purring when you put a hand on his lower back. It's one his very sensitive areas so any stimuli there will make him into a big softie. Don't you dare say that to anyone okay? You can touch him there all you want but he would die of embarrassment if anyone else knew he purrs from such a small gesture.
Smitten!Miguel who buys you gifts when there's absolutely no reason to. He can more then afford to spoil his sweetheart so don't worry about the amount of things he buys. There are many things that are matching but unless someone knew you both they'd never know you have matching accessories. It's like a cute little secret between the two of you.
Smitten!Miguel who leans his cheek in his palm and listens to you ramble on and on without interrupting once. He could listen to your voice for hours on end and never get tired. And don't even get him started on your laughter.
Smitten!Miguel who refuses to let go of you when you're cuddling. No you can't leave him, if you need to go anywhere he will carry you there but you can't let go just yet. He knows you don't want to leave either, you're just looking for an excuse for him to hold you tighter, closer, to carry you where ever you need to go. He's onto your tactics and he doesn't mind them working.
Smitten!Miguel who loves kissing you more then he would be willing to admit. He's always the one teasing you about starting the kiss but he's always the one who refused to let it end. He chases your lips with his, pulls and bites on your bottom lip until it's swollen and then pretends that he's very, very sorry so he could kiss it better. You're also onto him, but you don't complain.
Smitten!Miguel who pins you against the wall as a joke only to be unprepared by how cute you look like that. That cuteness is downright deadly. He has to make sure no one else falls victim to it but him, its his duty as a hero. So he will do this any chance he gets until it no longer has an effect on him... which will be never if him biting his lip whenever it happens are any clue.
Smitten!Miguel who lets you cup his cheeks in your hand whenever you feel like it. It calms him down so much to be touched so softly you have no idea. When you do this where other people might see, like his office he will always lock, he doesn't want anyone teasing him for going soft, Lyla already does more then enough of that.
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outofconcheol · 4 months
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friends forever? (lmh x f!reader)
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pairing: Minho x reader (afab)
genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst if you squint, brief smut, established relationship, 18+
summary: Minho has the difficult task of wooing someone very important to you.
warnings: CATS, a very confused Minho, swearing, mentions breakups, mentions periods, just lots of feels ok, smut warnings: brief oral (f receiving), kissing
word count: 1.9k
a/n: Where are all my cat people at? this idea came to me today and it was so cute i almost passed out (jk I did actually pass out today). i really said enough of Minho wooing reader, i want to see this man woo a cat and i made it happen! Also Lulu is one of my nicknames for my cat (but he's a boy). this is very unedited, I wrote it in like an hour but I hope you enjoy!
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It’s past midnight when Minho notices the eyes for the first time. They peer at him from the endless darkness of the hallway and he looks around nervously, wondering if he should say something. In the corner of his eye, he can see you rustling around in the kitchen, cabinets opening and closing as you try to find some snacks for the both of you. If there’s an intruder in your apartment, you don’t seem perturbed, humming quietly to yourself.
He wonders if this is some kind of test from the universe, if some evil spirit’s been sent down so that he, as your newly-minted boyfriend, can prove that he’s brave and worthy of protecting you. But before he can whip out his ghost-busting skills, your sock-clad feet are padding towards him on the couch, a surprised gasp leaving your lips.
“Oh! I see you’ve met Lulu.”
Minho blinks once, twice, before following the sound of your voice, looking down over the edge of the couch. 
Those same eyes from the hallway blink up at him. It’s a cat. Your cat, fluffy fur and all, looking at Minho through narrowed eyes.
Immediately, he softens, silently relieved that he wouldn’t have to slay any demons tonight. Minho loved cats. He had three of his own waiting at home. He slides off the couch, dropping to his knees, extending an arm out.
“Hi there Lulu, I’m Minho. Nice to meet you.”
Lulu cocks her head, taking a few seconds to look Minho over, assessing him from head to toe. And then she… remains completely still, refusing to budge and accept the offer to smell Minho’s hand. Minho feels his heart drop, arm still outstretched with the hope that she’ll change her mind, but to no avail.
“Babe,” Minho zips his head in your direction, and you offer him a comforting squeeze to his arm. “Lulu takes a while to warm up to new people, it’s nothing personal. She never liked any of my exes.”
You giggle, pulling Minho back onto the couch with you so he can rest his head in your lap while you start the movie. Minho tries to focus on the film, but his mind remains elsewhere, darting over to the side where he sees Lulu sitting next to the couch. Eventually, she jumps up onto the cushions to join you, snuggling into your side, but maintaining a safe distance from Minho.
Minho resists the urge to overthink the interaction from earlier. He knew better than anyone that cats were temperamental beings, and that they required extra love and attention. So what if Lulu never warmed up to any of your exes? She’d warm up to him eventually, because he planned on sticking around for a long time. 
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If you asked Minho the key to winning a cat’s heart, he’d tell you time. And maybe lots of treats. But mostly time. He thought time would be enough to heal the frosty first impression he’d left on Lulu, but every time he was over at your place, there she was around the corner, mean-mugging and making him feel guilty for crimes he didn’t commit.
He didn’t want to worry you with his silly beef with your cat, knowing that you loved her and she’d helped you through many hard times. 
So Minho, being the amazing boyfriend he was, tried to tackle the problem on his own.
He started with treats of course. The sizeable dent in his wallet from owning three cats only became all the more palpable when he’d buy an extra box from the pet store every week, hoping to woo over Miss Lulu with the five-star meal of some pureed chicken in a tube.
Lulu stared down the tube like it was a foreign object, before slapping her fluffy tail against Minho’s face, turning on her heels, and walking away.
She had the same reaction to the freeze-dried treats he tried the week after.
Then he theorized that maybe Lulu was averse to the smell of his own cats on him. So Minho kept an extra pair of clothes in his car all the time, one he’d change into before coming over. When he knocked at the door, he was met with your dazzling smile, cupping his face to press your lips to his, but as soon as it was over he caught sight of Princess Lulu running down the hallway away from him.
Months passed with Minho doing everything he could wrap his mind around what he could do win over the second most important person in your life (after him, of course). He’d even powered through a tense meeting between Lulu and Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, worried that his sons would scare her away, or even worse, hurt her, and that would be the end of you and Minho. But much to his surprise, Lulu played happily with the boys, even letting Dori tackle her and lick her fur.
And so began Minho’s mutual grudge against your cat. He did his best to hide it, but the lack of acceptance from Lulu was getting to him, like an arrow through his heart. He wondered if he could survive years by your side with a cat that hated him, but one look at your sparkly eyes and pretty smile told him that yes, this was worth it. You were worth it.
So Lulu ignored Minho. And Minho ignored Lulu. And both of them continued on in their own little worlds, centered around you. 
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Minho slams his lips against yours, pushing you up against the door of your bedroom, smirking when he feels your lips part in a soft moan. The two of you make out lazily against the door for a few moments, until you’re both breathless and panting, Minho stepping back to admire the handiwork he’d left on your neck, the angry marks disappearing underneath the neckline of your shirt. 
Minho runs his thumb over your lip, watching your eyes go dark with desire, and in no time at all, you’re pinned underneath him on the bed, legs dangling with Minho in between them. He wastes no time diving in, eating you out with fervor until you’re writhing against his face, a wave of pleasure building inside you.
Only for it all to come crashing down seconds later, when he suddenly stops. You let out a pathetic whine, running your fingers through Minho’s hair while he remains crouched in between your thighs.
“Min, baby what’s wrong?” you lift his chin up so he’s looking at you, and the look in his eyes is so starkly different from a few minutes ago, his face pale.
“She’s watching us,” he whispers, like he’s seen a ghost.
You follow his line of sight to the top of the dresser, where Lulu is now perched, tail tucked underneath her butt, eyes narrowing at you and Minho.
“Just ignore her, babe,” you nudge his head between your legs again. Minho gives a few tentative licks to your folds, but lets out a heavy sigh, sitting back on his knees.
“I can’t.” And he looks so unbelievably guilty it makes your heart melt. You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, before throwing on his discarded shirt, softly padding over to where Lulu rests.
“Hey pretty girl,” you coo at her, cradling her in your arms. “How about we go drink some water, huh?”
Minho sits on the edge of the bed, legs crossed and head in his hands. He doesn’t hear you come back inside, jumping slightly when you throw your arms around him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.
“She doesn’t hate you,” your voice is muffled, nuzzling your nose against his jaw.
“She does,” Minho whines, trying not to let his voice break. “She literally won’t accept any treats from me. Every time you have period cramps, she glares at me like she’s saying “It’s your fault, asshole.” She even plays with Changbin more than me. And he’s allergic! She hates me and you’re going to break up with me because I can’t get along with your cat.”
“Why would I break up with you, silly?” you giggle. “I love you.”
Minho grabs you by the shoulders, cupping your cheeks in his hands, shock on his face.
“Y-you do?”
You nod your head, reaching up to grab his hand with your own.
“I love you, Lee Minho. And Lulu too. My heart is big enough for both of you.”
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Minho feels better after that night, his anxieties melting away, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can survive this impasse with Lulu.
Until you ask him to do the unthinkable.
“Please Minho? It’s just for one night.” you beg him. Something urgent had come up for work, and you needed to take an overnight trip to handle it. Which meant Minho had to stay home with Lulu.
Minho wants to protest, saying the little brat will be fine, but then you pout. And it’s game over. He’s agreeing before he can think it through.
So you leave, the door clicking behind you, and Minho sits on the couch, Lulu across the room from him, the two of them staring each other down much like the first time they’d met. He takes meticulous care to fill up her food bowl and clean out her litter box, his heart doing a flutter when she doesn’t refuse either.
But she remains at her safe distance, and Minho is alone on the couch, missing the warmth of your presence next to him. He clicks through a few tv channels, before turning the TV off, throwing his hoodie on and slipping out onto your balcony, making sure to leave the door slightly ajar in case something happened to Lulu.
He sits with his knees curled to his chest, watching the city lights twinkle, until he hears a soft whine. He turns to see Lulu across from him on the balcony, maintaining her healthy distance, but staring at him with curious eyes.
“You’re a tough nut to crack Lulu, you know that?” Minho blurts out. “I just wish you’d like me, kiddo. I try so hard for you. And for your mom.”
He leans back against the railing, letting out a heavy sigh, and the words keep pouring out.
“I love her a lot. Like a lot a lot. I think I’m probably gonna marry her someday. And then we’ll be stuck together whether you like it or not.”
Minho closes his eyes, wondering what the future would hold for the two of them, when he feels it. The soft brush of fur against his leg, and then tiny vibrations.
He blinks his eyes open, and Lulu is nestled against his leg, soft purrs coming from her as she burrows her nose into Minho’s sweaptants.
Tears prick at the corner of Minho’s lids as he fights every bone in his body not to jump for joy. He reaches over, softly stroking Lulu between her ears, and chuckles when her tiny mouth drops open.
“Of course. The only thing you love more than attention is ____. I should have known.”
He stays impossibly still, battling against the ache in his leg, his eyes growing heavy with sleep. 
That’s how you find him in the morning, still cuddled up to Lulu. You smile softly, grabbing a blanket from the couch to throw over Minho while you work on breakfast for him and Lulu, finally content that the two most important people in your world love each other as much as they love you.
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a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜
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Hi!!! Would it be okay if I requested a worried head cannon for Astarion(Or Wyll or Halsin, I’m fine with any of them) where they lost track of Tav while on a scouting/stealth mission or on the battlefield? Thank you!
A/N: I went with losing track of their Tav on a stealth mission because that seemed the most anxiety-inducing… lol. Poor boys. Sorry, it’s not my best, I was rushing :( 
✧ Losing Track of Their Tav on A Stealth Mission ✧
Astarion: 
The most likely to panic, even though he swears he’d be the last to do so. 
He’s running all the worst-case scenarios through his head: you’ve been killed, you’ve been captured, you’re being enslaved just like he is…
Immediately jumps to the worry that Cazador or someone working for him has realized the two of you are together and plans to get to him through you.
He considers getting one of his companion’s attention but ultimately decides to continue sneaking in alone. He’s pretty good at sneaking, and the others could screw it up. He can’t leave your fate in the hands of someone klutzy like Gale accidentally casting fireball and alerting everyone to their presence. 
If he wasn’t intent on killing anyone in his way, he is now. They mean nothing to him. You mean everything to him. Do the math. You > Them. 
Definitely ends up compromising the mission, by either getting seen and alerting everyone or by causing enough chaos and death that people begin to notice. But none of that matters anymore to Astarion, whose only goal is finding you. Of course, if anyone else was to make that mistake, he’d chew them out for it. But he can’t see how hypocritical he’s being: all he can think about is your safety. 
When he finds you, he masks his fear with anger. He calls you an idiot, a fool- every name in the book. He doesn’t intend to hurt your feelings, he just doesn’t like how his affection for you puts him in a vulnerable place. He was terrified of losing you. The fear of that greatly outweighs the fear of the tadpole. 
He’ll get you away from there, away from everyone else. He can’t trust the strangers of Baldur’s Gate, and he doesn’t want his companions to see him this emotional. 
After the two of you are back to safety, and after he finishes berating you, he yanks you into a tight hug, refusing to let go. 
You tell him you’re sorry, and that it’s over now and you inform him it’s okay to let it out. Be prepared for the shoulder of your top to become soaked in tears. He’ll cry into you, telling you in between sobs how you were the first person in forever to see him as an equal. He needs you. You are the only one who sees him. He can’t lose you. 
After he’s calmed down, he’ll try to lighten the mood with a joke. Something about also being afraid to lose his very own privately stocked food source. Of course, you see right through the facade. You let him feed after that comment anyway, softly petting his hair as he does so. 
And even though normally while feeding, he’d be comforting you, telling you it’s alright, that it’s almost over- you end up comforting him, shushing him, and telling him the two of you will be okay- you’re not going anywhere. 
Wyll: 
Probably the most level-headed in his reaction, even if his thoughts are racing like mad. As the Blade of Frontiers, he’s learned how to think strategically in most situations. Of course, that’s easier said than done when someone you know and love is personally on the line. 
He’s figuring out all the possibilities, working out how likely each one is, in order to figure out which avenues to first explore. 
He continues on his own before remembering he’s not acting solo anymore. He’ll round back to where the others are stationed, and give them the news. He tells them the mission’s priorities have changed, and the goal for now is to find you. 
He doesn’t plan on completely abandoning the original job of course. He intends to get right back to business. He can keep both ideas in his head
Tries his best not to blow the original mission while looking for you. Of course, when push comes to shove, he’s going to choose you. The mission can be tried again at a later time: he can’t lose you. He’s lost too much in this life to accept having to part with another. 
If he has no leads and it's been a while, and he’s growing increasingly nervous, he might consider calling Mizora and asking for her help, even though he knows it’s going to cost him more years of servitude. Having to work for a devil is much more bearable when there’s someone you love. He’d make a thousand deals if it meant you’d stay safe. 
Once he finds you, he’ll quickly ask if you’re alright, before ushering everyone out. He wants nothing more than to speak to you freely, but he knows right then isn't the time to do it. 
After you are safely far enough away, either back at camp, or somewhere secluded, he’ll firmly but kindly demand to know what the hell you were thinking, sneaking off like that?! He wants you to know he was worried, dammit! He loves you! Can’t you see how much losing you would hurt him? 
He’ll take you into his arms and place a soft kiss on your forehead. You are so precious to him. Please, please, he asks, be more careful. 
He vows to be at your side for any future stealth missions. He loves how brave you are, and how much you want to protect him. Just let him protect you in return. 
Halsin: 
Halsin probably reacts the least because he has the most faith that you’ll be okay. He sees you as his savior- a savior of his people, of the grove, of the tieflings- you are the most incredible person to him. 
That being said, he’s not going to simply do nothing if he thinks you’ve run into trouble. You mean so much to him, of course he’s going to change courses and instead go search for you! 
He’s also going to rope the others into helping him. I mean, he’s not forcing them or anything, but he does regroup and tell the others of his concerns. He’s very calm and level-headed, but also quite determined, so the others have few qualms about switching gears and following him. 
He’s also the most adept at staying hidden while looking for you, being able to wild shape into an inconspicuous animal like a cat or a rat or a bird. He uses his druid abilities to his advantage, steering clear of confrontation as he makes a beeline to where your scent takes him. 
Once he finds you, if you yourself haven't been discovered and taken, he’ll stay in animal form, and carefully guide you to a reliable exit. However, if you’ve already been caught, be prepared for things to get hairy. (Get it? Hairy?) 
He will not hesitate to shift into a big-ass bear and rip people’s throats out as he carries you on his back to safety. Even though this makes him a much more large and obvious target, he’ll do it, if it means keeping you protected. Any hits or damage he can take, he can heal from, all the less pain you have to endure. 
He absolutely brings you somewhere outside of the city. He feels safest in nature, and in order to calm down, he needs free-flowing nature, which is hard to come by in Baldur’s Gate.
He’s going to squish you- even if you’re bigger than him. He’ll lay you down gently, before resting on top of you, keeping balanced so that you don’t have to support all of his weight. He needs to be close to you, preferably with skin-to-skin contact. He needs your warmth, your smell, the softness of your skin… It centers him and brings him back down to earth. 
He’ll voice his worries while simultaneously complimenting your skill. He doesn't want you to feel incapable, but he must let you know how he felt in that moment when he feared you were hurt or worse. 
You are his light, you brought him out of the shadows. And he can’t bear to lose you. Please, don’t fade away. Don’t leave him in darkness once more. 
...
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