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zzoguri · 7 months

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familiarity (it’s all sticky) ➵ kim sunwoo

peter parker!kim sunwoo x spiderman!reader

you're not sure why you decide to show up at your ex's place all wounded up from tonight's battle.

genre/warnings ➵ exes (to sort of lovers?), angst, touch of fluff, afab reader (no-gendered terms), hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), discussions of wounds and depictions of blood, lowercase intended, ghost-spider au (though please don't expect it to be accurate!), reader is obviously spiderman while sunwoo is peter parker i mean HELLO?? i am right, sunwoo is such a slob here, reader's hair is long enough to be tucked behind their ear, i also based everything on google when it comes to patching up wounds omg please don't follow me at all, kissing fingertips, mentions of non-sexual stripping and showering (let him take care of you)

word count ➵ 4k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu

playlist ➵ nonviolent communication by metro boomin, james blake, a$ap rocky, & 21 savage // hummingbird by metro boomin & james blake

a/n ➵ i've had this idea for the longest time in my drafts. i'm pretty sure it came to me as i was writing of linked arms and bruised hearts, but i'm glad i took some time to sit down (even in my busy and hell midterms season) to write it :') thank you to my lovely cat @wuahae for beta reading <3 this work is only a fraction of what our friendship truly is, and proof of the care we have for each other. i love you! i also thought it would be in theme to get songs from across the spiderverse ost for the playlist </3 please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr!)

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! want to request? check out my guidelines! masterlist

new york city never falls silent. the bustle of every new yorker can be heard through their footsteps, the wheels that glide against the train tracks along with the beeps of taxis sound throughout the city. the metropolis stays alive in every street, every alleyway, every corner. no matter what hour it may be, each pavement is wide awake.

but the lights seem hazy tonight; the luminescence pours out of every building, the led boards are only blurs of silhouettes and illegible words. normally, you would warn against going out if someone could barely make sense of what these signs say, but you never seem to follow your own advice.

as you swing through the city, web clinging onto every building, blood continues to seep through the white spandex that covers you from head to toe. your body feels heavy, the pain in your lower abdomen continuing to spike with every movement—every swing—you make.

you bite on your lip, holding back the whimpers. your eyes dart through every street sign you pass. with every swing, you realize you’re nowhere close to where you should be. instead…

you don’t allow yourself to think it over. maybe the loss of blood has you moving out of impulse, but for now, you can only think of getting rid of the pain.

you swing around the corner before landing down at the familiar fire escape, paint-chipped and rusted just like you remember. a hiss leaves your mouth as your hand reaches out to the spot where the blood continues to seep through, holding it down to keep pressure on the wound.

you’re face-to-face with the window; the reflection of you all suited up in some persona is a sight you’re accustomed to—but not on the glass of his window. you’re not sure why you came back here, injured in an identity he only knew of through word of mouth.

but the throbbing in your abdomen doesn’t give you enough time to think more about it. pushing the window up, you throw one leg over the edge into the apartment. your eyes quickly scan through the familiar space—a room you once treated as yours.

pillows scattered and bedsheets wrinkled, the walls are littered with the same posters of anime he swears to be the best of all time (though you’d always disagreed), along with his desk, littered with trinkets you haven’t seen since the day you left him—ones that he talked about to you back then with so much joy.

as you attempt to get your other leg over the edge of the window, you yelp at the sharp pain that strikes. “fuck,” you whimper, gasping out a breath. another groan rips out from your throat as you force your leg over, head resting on the frame with closed eyes, bracing yourself through the wave of pain that follows.

as pants continue to leave your mouth, your senses tingle as your ears catch the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. you attempt to stand up only for another groan to leave your lips, and you realize it’s too late—the door creaks open, revealing the man you haven’t been face-to-face with since you said your farewell months ago.

dressed in an oversized white tee and a pair of black shorts, sunwoo stands with a bag of chips in his hand and disheveled hair, eyes wide and gaping. you can only assume he was fresh from bed.

“s-spiderman?!” he looks around, noticing the mess that you’re being exposed to. before you can register it, he rushes in, dropping the bag of chips somewhere near the doorway, and tries to tidy his bed. “w-what are you doing here? i think you might’ve entered the wrong room,” he stutters as he attempts to fix his pillows and bedsheets (poorly, if you may say).

somehow, the sight of sunwoo all frazzled makes you smile behind your mask. the idea of your—no, you mean, this guy all worried about you seeing how untidy he lives makes you chuckle.

but as you laugh, pain shoots through your lower abdomen once more. you cough out before hissing, pressing onto the wound. it takes everything in you to keep your body upright until you feel a pair of hands rest on your shoulders. you look up only to be met with his worried expression.

and you spot the way his eyes trail down to where your hand rests. you’re thankful that the mask could hide the heat that rises to your cheeks.

“oh god, you need that treated,” sunwoo’s eyes snap back up to you, and your breath hitches. even after all these months, he still holds stars in his eyes.

it’s been a while since you last saw him up close. the bags on his under eyes have turned a few shades darker, and you notice an eyelash that rests on his cheek. you don’t think about what you do next, your free hand reaching out to his face, and his breath hitches. once you pick it out, you flick the strand off of your fingers, and that’s when you realize the mistake you committed.

“s-sorry,” you choke out. although you try to keep your voice as low and gruntled as possible, he frowns. he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicker between your masked face and the wound.

“i-i don’t know how to help. i can call for an ambulan—”

you grab onto his arm before he can leave. as you shake your head, he gulps. “i can’t really help you,” he says, but your grip doesn’t falter. with that, he lets out a sigh before kneeling in front of you. his hands find themselves on the ledge, his arms now caging your frail figure. “do you have someone in mind who can help you?”

sunwoo’s question is innocent. you’re sure the last thing he meant was to mock your situation—showing up in a “stranger’s” room unannounced—but it strikes a chord in you.

you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up a few months back. when you’re outside of your suit, you avoid him like the plague. in the hallways of campus, you take any possible route to not cross his. but when you’re covered in your second skin, you find yourself on top of buildings watching him from far away. with the distance, you allow yourself to learn about what he’s been up to since you two last spoke.

so you don’t know why you sit in front of him all injured and dressed up in white, black, and pink spandex, because you haven’t spoken to him since that day. shame bubbles within you all while reality slowly slips from your fingertips. and the way your body gets heavier with every second that passes has him mumbling profanities.

his hands hold onto you as he makes you lean your weight on the frame of the window. “wait,” he says as he stands up and walks into his bathroom. before you know it, he comes out with a box.

sunwoo finds his spot back in front of you and he opens what he retrieved. as he looks through the supplies of bandages, alcohol, gauze, and more, he says as his eyes flicker up towards you, “i don’t know how much this will help but it’ll do for now.”

and you should be thankful that someone is willing to bandage you up after the rough night you’ve had, but it feels like a lie to have sunwoo be the one to do it, especially when you haven’t told him the truth.

so when he grabs onto the supplies he needs to treat your wound, your free hand reaches for the underside of your mask. his eyes follow where it rests, and he freezes in his tracks. your fingertips curl on the fabric as you take a deep breath.

“you don’t—”

you shake your head, cutting him off, and you close your eyes before pulling off the mask.

you’re afraid to look at the boy kneeling in front of you, for you can only imagine the annoyance—the disgust—that will paint his features. it’s not like you had a choice to show up at his fire escape this one night, but it was your choice to reveal who spiderman really is behind the mask.

a beat passes.

you’re not sure what to do at this moment. what are you supposed to do after a vigilante reveals who they are?

but when you open your eyes, sunwoo looks back at you with an emotion you can’t pinpoint. he averts his eyes, trailing down to your wound. “let me see it,” he whispers.

you gulp, an attempt to clear your throat and thoughts, before letting your hand move away from the puncture. your hand grips the hem of the top of your suit, peeling it upwards to reveal a bloody wound. from the sight, it looks like you were stabbed, but it’s only a deep cut.

he pulls out a piece of cloth, reaching out and pressing it to your wound. you yelp, eyes squeezing shut at the contact. “i’m sorry, but we need to stop the bleeding a bit more.” it takes everything in you to open your eyes. you’re met with the sight of sunwoo whose face holds a thousand emotions—you can’t identify any of them.

“can you keep pressure on it?” you only nod before you remove your gloves, afraid to touch the wound with fabric covered in grime. you dump your mask and gloves on the space beside you before letting your hand reach to where the cloth is held against. your hand brushes against his for a split second—you retract your hand immediately at the contact with his skin.

at the sudden motion, the cloth against your stomach drops with nothing left to hold it. sunwoo curses in a panic, hand shooting out in an attempt to save it, but you react faster. snatching it mid-fall, you grasp it tightly, placing the cloth back onto your wound. his eyes dart between where your hand rests and your face, a twinge of worry cast on his features, but he doesn’t give you an opportunity to say anything as he stands up quickly and walks back to his bathroom.

you hear the water run for a moment. the noises of the street fill your ears. the lights from outside cascade the floor, hues of yellow and purple filling the room. and then thunder rumbles; it shakes the floorboards. the sounds of raindrops follow, and you feel your back start to get wet from the storm that has entered new york city.

you try to push yourself off the ledge, a groan ripping out of your throat once more. and you’re finally on your feet. but at any moment, it feels like you may collapse.

“wait, wait! what are you doing?” sunwoo exclaims as he rushes out of the bathroom. he quickly grabs hold of you in an attempt to keep you steady. “don’t stand up or that wound might get worse.”

“i-it’s just the rain. i don’t want to leave the window open.” as you turn your torso, another spike strikes where your wound is. the yelp that leaves your mouth has sunwoo grip onto your arm tighter.

“no, just sit. i’ll take care of it,” he says as he brings you to his chair, his hand never leaves your arm. you let out a hiss until your bottom meets the cushion. as soon as your back rests on the chair, you close your eyes for a moment from the pain.

his hand leaves you. you hear the window shut; the car horns and barks from stray animals are now muffled.

when your eyes flutter open, sunwoo crouches in front of you with a wet towel in his hand. “i need to clean it.” you only nod before removing the cloth on your wound. he grabs it from you and places it on his lap.

as he raises the wet towel to your wound, you flinch at the contact. he quickly retracts it and asks, “does it hurt?”

“no, it’s just cold,” you mumble back. he only nods before attempting to clean the area around your wound. while he keeps his eyes on the puncture, your eyes remain on his face; hues of yellow cast upon him.

his skin glows under the city lights—did anyone know about the stars you once carved on it?

“is this why we broke up?” his eyes snap toward yours as he asks that question.

you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “y-yeah,” you choke out.

he hums before his eyes go back down to your injury. “i’m guessing this is why you were distant then, right?”

you don’t bother to speak, letting the silence speak for itself.

he removes the wet towel; the white cloth is covered in patches of red. as he crumples it into a ball, you spot that his white shirt holds splotches of blood as well.

sunwoo stands up to drop the pieces of fabric on the table behind you. “your dad obviously doesn’t know,” he mutters to himself.

it’s a rhetorical question. of course, your father has no clue of your late-night rendezvous. you’re sure he could never look at you the same if he found out because to him, he would never understand what you do. he would see you only as a low-life criminal in the same way the nypd does.

sunwoo then dabs a cotton ball soaked in betadine on your abdomen. you bite on your lip as a hiss leaves your mouth. “fuck,” you curse, and he only continues to clean up your wound.

silence takes over you two. as he bandages you up, you allow yourself to close your eyes. you were thankful to find rest in these small moments. but you don’t miss the warmth of his fingertips on your skin; they feel just like last time.

“why did you come here?” his question has your eyes snapping open, and you are met with a frown resting on his face.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “i-i don’t know.” it’s a lie—one you both know. you had every chance to change the route you were taking. instead, you chose to go to his place—even if it may be on the other side of where you live.

he lets out a sigh. it’s clear that he’s disappointed by your words, but all he says is “okay,” as he gets up. “you can stay here for the night.” he stands in front of you in a shirt covered in patches of blood—it’s proof that his heart still holds a spot for you.

despite the venom that was laced in your words the night you cut ties with him, he leaves you a space for you to fill. it’s another choice you can make, but one you’re not sure if you should take.

sunwoo walks to the desk behind you and flips the lamp on. you swivel the chair so that you’re face-to-face with his slouched figure. you would’ve scolded him, but you’re not in the place to do so—not after what you two had.

but a part of you wishes to chide those words—hey, keep slouching and your back will get worse—for old time’s sake. it takes everything in you to hold back from saying the reminder, but it takes nothing to let your hand grip the back of his shirt. his movements halt.

as you sit up, you let your face bury into the arch of his back. the scent of his laundry detergent (it’s still the same smell of lavender) fills your nose, and you let your hands trail around his torso until they find their home on his waist. even after all these months, your hands knew where to rest—your spidey senses knew who to go to.

you feel his hands rest on your arms, his thumb drawing circles on your forearm. you breathe at the same pace as him. whenever his shoulders move up, yours follow. and you allow yourself to cherish just this once the familiar warmth of sunwoo. you let your soul mesh with his once more.

with closed eyes, you whisper, “i still look for you.” his thumb stops moving, and a shaky breath leaves your mouth. “i’m here because all i know is you.”

it’s half of a lie, but still a lie nevertheless. you shake your head against his shirt. “no,” you rescind. “i know i shouldn’t be here, and i had every chance to go back home, but,” you take a deep breath. “would you let me, just this once, be honest with you?”

your question hangs in the air—it’s not for him but for you. all the choices you took led to this moment, from embracing the persona you were handed through a single spider bite all the way to removing the mask in front of him.

sunwoo spins to face you. he stands in front of you with the remnants of you covering him, his shirt coated in hues of red and your blood dried up on his hands. the light behind him causes a shadow to paint his face.

but when he kneels once more in front of you, you get a good look at his features. he still looks like the same boy you first met—the same one you fell in love with—but you wonder if he was still the one you knew?

that is until his hand reaches toward your face. you hold your breath as it finds its spot on your cheek. but as his thumb grazes your cheekbone, a trembling breath leaves you. you gulp everything down—your fears and anxieties—so that you can finally be honest with sunwoo.

“i wanted to tell you who i really am.” a flicker of confusion flashes through his eyes. “and i know i’m not doing it in the best state,” a chuckle leaves your mouth. “but with every day that passes, and every injury i need to endure, i didn’t know when i would be able to tell you what went wrong with us.” a beat passes. “what went wrong with me.”

he shakes his head. “nothing’s wrong with you. what are you talking about?” a frown takes over his face. “i mean, you’re spiderman, for god’s sake.” you weren’t able to hold back the giggle that slipped from your lips.

but it wouldn’t be fair to just accept his words as is, not after the damage you’ve caused.

you let a hand rest on his, the one that rests on your cheek, and you curl your fingers so that you hold it. “i’m sorry that this is me.” the whisper is loud enough to fill the silence of his room. “i’m sorry that i crashed here all injured and left you to deal with the mess,” your eyes flicker to his bed. “especially on a night when you were resting.”

as soon as your eyes go back to sunwoo, you notice that he’s biting the inside of his cheek. “why are you telling me this?” it’s an honest question, one he couldn’t figure out the answer to. “we haven’t seen each other since you broke up with me.”

and he has every right to be confused with your sudden appearance. after all the months spent avoiding him in the halls while still seeking him on top of buildings, sunwoo was left with no clue as to why you come to him first in such a dire situation. why is it that you chose to reveal such an intimate part of yourself months after you two have drifted?

“do i have to say it?” you ask.

and he looks back into your eyes before saying, “it’s the least you can do.”

so you grab onto his hand, moving it so that it rests in yours. the sight of his fingers and palms covered in splotches of you fills your heart with warmth. it’s proof of the time he spent to patch you up. no matter who you may be—spiderman or not—you will forever be at his mercy.

“we can’t be together. it will only be another cycle of pain.” for both of you. as your eyes land back on his face, you spot sorrow coating his features.

“but i still do.” it’s an unfinished thought on his end. despite the frown you show, all he does is flash you a bitter smile. “i always have and always will.”

and it clicks.

“n-no, sunwoo,” you shake your head. “you can’t.”

he brings your hand close to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “but you do,” he whispers into your fingertips. “right?”

even after revealing who spiderman truly is behind the mask, you expect sunwoo to rethink everything he knows. the months spent away from you should be enough reason to reconsider how much he knows of you now. but even if you two were to spend years apart, he would still read you as well as he does now.

“i can’t,” you choke out. “i can only offer so much, and you deserve so much more.”

he smiles at you—the same one you used to see every day, no matter what time of the day it may be—as his free hand reaches for your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“i couldn’t care any less.”

you shake your head. it’s clear he doesn’t understand the gravity of it all; to be with you means to remain in constant danger. “no, sunwoo. you don’t understand. i broke up with you because i’m batshit scared of what will happen to you.”

because it seems to always occur—anyone you come close to becomes another target for your enemies. it’s already hard enough to handle the responsibility of being a masked hero, but you don’t think you could handle a possibility where sunwoo’s death would be on your hands.

but all he does is shake his head and says, “i don’t care. i still love you.”

you haven’t heard him say that to you in months. such a simple phrase causes warmth to fill your limbs and heat to rise to your cheeks. he still has the same effect on you after so long.

there are consequences that this conversation bears. you should have stood up and left as soon as he patched you up. it should’ve been obvious that the longer you stayed, the more you would pour out sentiments that you tried to keep under wraps—under the mask—and it seemed that sunwoo knew how to undo them even better than he did then.

and hearing sunwoo say those words has you falling into a perpetual cycle of torment, one that makes every day intolerable for you can only watch him from afar. but aren’t you already living it the more you deny what’s in front of you two?

so you only nod, and bring his hand close so you can feel his fingertips on your lips. with closed eyes, you whisper, “okay.”

it’s a testament to everything—one to his offer to let you sleep in this very room you once treated as yours, one to his confession that tilted your world’s axis, one to the very situation you’re in—and you’re sure he knows it, too.

he smiles as soon as your eyes flutter open. “let’s go to sleep.”

you know that sleep meant to be wrapped in his arms all while he would leave kisses on your temple. you don’t remember the last time you got enough rest, but you remember that the last time you slept in sunwoo’s arms was the last one you were able to fall into slumber at ease.

so you nod, allowing him to help you out of the chair. and he helps you through it all—shedding the suit off of you, cleaning you of all the grime from tonight’s adventure, and getting dressed in fresh clothes—until you two find your place on his bed.

nothing is said for the rest of the night. for once, you drift into slumber without any secrets stashed away.

if you enjoyed reading this, please do reblog!

#deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #kim sunwoo #the boyz #the boyz x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #the boyz imagines #kim sunwoo imagines #kim sunwoo angst #kim sunwoo fluff #zzoguri works

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savageonwheels · 10 months

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Car Spot: the VW Thing

Top down fun with the VW Thing, this week's car spot.

Slow, poorly equipped, and unsafe, but people loved it … It’s almost hard to believe that the company that makes Golfs and Jettas now, cranked out anything close to that in the 1960s and ’70s. They were defiantly counterculture making Classic Beetles, funky buses, and boxy Vanagons along with the stubby VW Thing, this week’s spot. VW Thing I spotted on a trip to Door County, about an hour north…

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#Car Spots #car spotting #Savage on Wheels #VW #VW Thing

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kitatriestodraw · 10 months

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#star wars #luke skywalker #maul #hera syndulla #savage opress #color wheel challenge #my art

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rosyjn · 9 months

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Roommate- human!jake sully x reader NSFW

THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC YET BTW! (If you see typos pls let me know)

You hated being a human on Pandora. You showed up in January 2154, young and alone. The head of security, Miles Quaritch, constantly demonized the natural life of Pandora. He claimed the indigenous were “savages” and that everything that lives in the forest wanted to kill us. Most of the time, you were confined to the boring human base, nestled next to a forest.

About a week after arriving, you befriended Grace Augustine and began to help her out with her lab work. She was almost like a mother to you. Norm was pretty much your brother, Trudy being a sister. It was your lab friends that made life worth living. The first time you ever left the base was with all three of them, to go collect samples with Grace. And you swore Pandora was the most beautiful place in the universe. The floating mountains, waterfalls, forest life, bioluminescence- your eyes were glued out the door, and you'd take polaroids until your camera ran out of film. Since then, you were thoroughly invested in the avatar program, and dedicated your time to perfecting it. Though you never got an avatar yourself, you were fine with that.

Around 6 months after you showed up, a new member of the avatar program showed up. His name was Jake Sully, and he wasn't supposed to be there. His twin brother Tom had died before you even came to Pandora, and Tom was who Grace actually needed for her project. Jake was, unfortunately, the only person who could take Tom's place. When Jake arrived, it was Lyle Wainfleet who informed you of what he looked like before you met him. For some reason, Lyle thought it was funny. He had stormed into the cafeteria, sitting down next to you while you ate a small cup of macaroni and cheese.

"Wainfleet, what? It's my dinner break right now, a bitch needs to eat!" you snap, turning away as he settles down at your table.

"Y/N, Pandora's got her first meal on wheels," he cackles, whispering to you.

"The fuck are you talking about?" you squint, crossing your legs in annoyance.

"Tommy Sully's dead, they've got his brother here-" he continues.

"What.." your expression softens, a scared look plastering across your face. You never knew Tom, but how are you going to break this news to Grace?

"Tom Sully's brother is a crippl-" he raises his eyebrows, trying to speak more clearly for you.

"I don't care about his brother! How are we gonna tell Grace?" you set your fork down into your bowl of food, your appetite already having disappeared.

"Bout Tom?" he grumbles. You nod. "Don't matter, they got the same genome, anyhow. The experiment oughta work either way."

"You don't get it, whatever. Tell me about this new guy," you sigh, checking the time on your wrist.

"His name is Jake Sully, he's a cripple. His legs don't work anymore, some spinal incident or sumth'n. Gets around in a wheelchair now. Good looking guy, Grace is gonna hate him though," he smiles at the last sentence.

"Not funny," you shake your head. "Y'know where he's staying?"

"Yea, residential building 3, unit 01." he looks down at the table.

"Stop playing with me!" your eyes grow wide and you punch Lyle's shoulder, making him laugh again.

"I'm not, that's where he's livin'! What's your problem?" he pushes your hand off, brows furrowing in confusion.

"Oh god," you grumble, burying your face in your hands. His face lights up in realization.

"Looks like someone's got a new roommate!" he teases, getting up from the table and hurrying out of the cafeteria before you can scold him. You accept your reality and get up to throw away your trash, knowing you have to head back to work. How the fuck did you end up with Sully? You knew at some point, all the unimportant people have to room with some other nobody. It's a rule- human camp shouldn't take up too much space. But you were enjoying your time alone. Your apartment was decorated all girly, and you knew it might change now. You just hoped to god that Jake wasn't as bad as he sounded.

When you entered the lab again, Grace was already pissed.

"Who’s got my goddamn cigarette?!” she growls as she sits up, returning from her avatar form. You anxiously watch as an assistant scurries to a nearby drawer, grabbing a box of Newports. “Guys, what’s wrong with this picture?” she waves a hand at the assistant, “Thank you,” and relaxes when she finally gets a lit cigarette in her mouth.

“Grace Augustine is a legend-“ Norm explains from behind you. You spin around, thinking he was just joking with a friend. A gasp leaves your mouth when you see it- Norm walking, guiding a young man in a wheelchair through the lab. That’s Jake, it must be Jake. You sigh and your eyelids flutter as you watch them head towards Grace, knowing that she’s not going to tolerate this switch-aroo. But you cant help but notice the new guy, weirdly handsome. His eyes are striking, intense in a way.

“Norm, hi!” you smile, walking up to him. It’s almost like a desperate attempt to stall Jake from meeting Grace. It’s stupid, you know at some point they’ll have to collide.

“Hey, Y/N! We’ve got Tom’s brother here! Doesn’t he look just like him?” Norm gestures to Jake, stopping in his tracks. You take a look at him- the first good look you’ve had so far, and he is hot. His face is built so well, and you can see his strong shoulders through his tight shirt. But, his gaze is what really makes you melt, the look on his face…

“Hi! I’m Y/N! How are you? Nice to meet you!” you extend a hand out, bending your knees a little bit to get on his level. Your intent was to shake his hand, which works well. He holds out a large, warm hand and gives a firm handshake. You smile and exhale, but it appears Jake isn’t trying to hide that his eyes are traveling back and forth from your cleavage to your face.

“I’m doing good,” his voice is deep and intense and it makes your heart flutter. “See ya at lights out,” he winks at you and you let go of his hand and back up a little. Norm’s brows furrow at this comment, and his nostrils flare a little.

“Oh, uhm, okay!” you awkwardly smile and back away further, getting closer to Norm.

“Who the fuck?” Grace’s voice booms from behind you, and you jump a little. You slowly inch away, leaving the situation. Norm follows. When the two of you are already on the other side of the room, the tense dialogue between Augustine and Sully fades.

“Y/N, you alright? Is that guy hitting on you?” Norm grabs your arm gently, with a concerned voice. “That comment, about lights out, what did he mean?” he questions.

“My god, didn’t tell you yet. We’re fucking roommates,” you whisper yell. “He just moved in today, building 3 unit 01,”

“If you don’t feel safe at any time, tell me, okay? What type of guy is he?” Norm’s hand leaves your arm, and he leans back onto a table.

“I don’t know! This is the first time I’m meeting him!” you facepalm. “So, if you’re wondering… I don’t know anything about him yet,”

“Okay, just- tell me if he bothers you,” Norm says.

“Of course,” you promise, smiling. He creeps away to do lab work, and in the meantime, you walk over to Jake to strike up a conversation.

"Hey," he says, turning himself towards you.

"Hi, what's up?" you sit down across from him, and he comes closer, tilting his head.

"I saw all those polaroids you've got hung up in your bedroom, you look cute in 'em," he leans back in his wheelchair, pretty much ignoring your question.

"In my bedroom?" you question, almost feeling like your privacy has been invaded.

"What, I'm not allowed to check out my new place?" he jokes.

"God, I'm sorry," you laugh and look down at the floor, listening to the noises of everyone pack up for the night. Once you're reminded that you have to live with this guy, you wish time moved slower. "Oh, how was Grace? How did that conversation go?" you change the subject.

"Why don't I tell you about it at home?" he suggests, making a dreadful feeling develop in your stomach. It's something about the thought of sleeping in the same space as this guy, who you now have a crush on, that makes you nervous. What if he walks in on you in the shower? What if you walk in on him? The thought of him calling your place "home" already was enough to make your heart speed up. You know it's stupid, that you're unnecessarily anxious.

"Sure, I'll walk you back, just hold on a second. I've gotta say bye to everyone," you get up from your chair, pretending to not notice Jake looking at your ass. You circled the lab, helping everyone clean up and hugging your friends. Norm and Trudy gossip in the corner, concerned for your safety. You assure them over and over that everything is fine, even though you can feel Jake undressing you with his eyes from across the room. You ignore all their speculations, walking away with your new roommate following.

"They hate me, don't they?" Jake shakes his head as you enter the hallway with him.

"Don't stress about it, they hate everyone. It doesn't help that you're an ex-marine. The marines here are ignorant to what the scientists think," you raise your eyebrows, digging in your pocket for your key.

"I'm not ignorant, I can promise you that," he nods, a smile growing onto his face. You take your key out of your pocket, continuing your walk home. "Not a long commute, huh?" he says.

"Yeah, everyone gets their home depending on where they work. You and me got real lucky: the first unit in the building," you happily approach the door, putting in the key and twisting it. It gets more and more noticeable- the way Jake stares you down. You try to ignore it, kicking off your shoes. "I think I'm just gonna go take a shower," you tell him. He nods, relaxing as you walk off into the bathroom.

You slip off your clothes, reaching for the shower handle and twisting it. As you look in the mirror, waiting for the water to warm up, you can't stop thinking about Jake. It drives you nuts. How can you live with him when his face makes you so horny? Of course, the quickest solution comes to mind. When you step into the shower, your hand immediately slithers down to your clit, where you rub in circles over and over again, warm water coating your body. Soft little noises leave you, you hum in satisfaction at the thought of getting on your knees for him.

After you finally finish, a feeling of shame washes over you. This isn't right, this is weird. It's weird to touch yourself at the thought of your roommate. You decide you need to get rid of this crush; to find an outlet or something. You can't keep yourself like this. Your brain rushes with thoughts as you wash your hair and body. "I'm gonna get over him, I'm gonna get over him, I'm gonna get over him," you whisper to yourself, the sound of the water making you almost silent. "I can't get wound up like this, not for him. None of my friends like him.." you tell yourself. They're all silly, desperate ideas to make you feel calmer.

Stepping out of the shower, your mind is in a tranquil state. You do your skincare, comb your hair, dry your body, put lotion on, etc. You're clean- clean and fresh. Now, you can go to bed. You can just go right to your room, put pajamas on, and sleep. You wrap your naked body in a flimsy towel, wet hair hanging down past your shoulders as you walk out the bathroom door.

"Fuck," a voice from behind you startles you, and the towel almost drops. You clutch it turn around quickly, fear filling your heart. Your cheeks flush red when you see Jake, watching your body attentively.

"Oh, hi- I was just- going to bed..." you awkwardly shy away, feeling bare. You're in nothing but a small, wet towel.

"No you're not, come here," he pats his thigh.

"Jake, what?" you nervously chuckle.

"Sit, here in my lap," he orders again, patting himself harder this time.

"I- don't have anything on," your voice grows soft.

"I know,"

"Not even underwear,"

"I know, why do you think I'm asking? Come here, sit." he growls. At this moment, it's like you've lost all your self respect. You feel like his little slut. You slowly walk towards him, before straddling him on his wheelchair. You clutch your towel tight when you sit, trying not to show yourself. Your breath hitches when your wet cunt presses up on his sweatpants, and he looks you dead in the eye. "What were you doing in the shower, hmm?" he interrogates, intimately moving a wet strand of hair out of your face.

"We've only just met," you push his hand away, shaking your head. "This is too much," you tell him.

"Then why are you still sitting here, pussy pressed up on my leg?" he grabs your hips, holding them tightly. Your eyes widen and you look down in shame, but you don't move. "Yeah, I know how you feel about me. Go on, please yourself." he starts to move your hips ever so slightly, the friction teasing your clit. Your eyes flutter shut as Jake rocks you back and forth with his strong arms.

"Can I tell you something?" you ask through breathy moans.

"In a second, after you cum, okay?" he replies.

"Mhmhmm," you whine, trying to signal a yes. Suddenly, you feel like that scary distance between you and Jake has been filled. Filled with the sound of you whimpering and getting rubbed on his leg, filled with the horny gazes that he gives you and the quick shower masturbation that you sneak. Jake's hands hold you tightly, fingers digging into your plush hips.

"Ditch the towel already, will ya?" he grunts, his hands traveling up to your chest and pulling your towel off of you. You gasp at the cold air that rushes in against your bare body, and your nipples stand upright. Jake throws your towel onto the floor, hands kneading at your breasts now. “Little slut, just met me and you’re already soaking my pants,” he leans back in his chair, reaching for the band of his sweatpants while you desperately pleasure yourself.

“I really wanna tell you something, oh god, I really wanna tell you something,” you mewl, throwing your head back.

“What?” he whispers, pulling his now erect cock out of his pants. You don’t notice, you’re just overwhelmed with pleasure.

“I wanna, wanna get on my knees for you..” you mutter, eyes still clenched shut.

“Hmm?” he slowly strokes himself, watching your body.

“I touched myself,” you lean into Jake, trying to make your words clearer. “Touched myself, at the thought of it,” you finally open your eyes again, only to be met with the sight of his cock. You gasp, the vision being enough to tip you over the edge. You melt into his arms, his dick grazing your lower belly as you slouch into him. He takes you in, holding you sweetly as you finish all over his leg. Your nails dig into his clothed shoulder, and the pinching sensation makes him growl.

“Fuck,” he remarks, gently moving you out of the way to see the arousal stains you’ve left on his pants. With your arms still wrapped around him, you look down, growing shy when you realize how wet you are. “On your knees, now. Show me what you touched yourself to,” he pushes you off of him and you practically crumble onto the floor, legs unstable from the orgasm you had.

“Ah,” you sigh, taking his cock into your hand shyly.

“What did you picture when you were pleasuring yourself, hmm?” he teases. You slowly bring your head to his tip, giving it small licks and kisses. He’s circumcised, groomed well, but not completely hairless. You don’t mind. You keep licking his tip, before expanding to the shaft, salivating down it. His cock throbs, the blood flow making it hot.

“Mm, tastes so good,” you smirk before opening your mouth and engulfing him fully in your mouth, the tip tickling the back of your throat. His base presses up on your nose and he whimpers. For the first time ever, you’ve heard him whimper. You pull away, a string of saliva connected to your lips, and take a deep breath.

“Fuck,” he strokes your head, pulling and holding your hair into a ponytail which he kept a grasp on, keeping your hair out of your face. You go back in, mercilessly sucking him off. The room fills with slurping and choking noises, along with crude moans and breathing. His cock throbs and twitches in your mouth, occasionally squirting out little bursts of pre cum. You grip onto his legs to hold your body steady, even though your knees were beginning to hurt from pressing into the floor. Your head rhythmically bobs up and down.

“Close?” you ask with an aching jaw.

“Mm, yeah,” he sharply exhales, his grip on your hair growing tighter. You keep up the pace, not going any faster or slower. “My god, you’re fucking good at this. Who taught you how to give a blowjob?” he grunts, making eye contact with you. You take his cock deep in your mouth, your lips and tongue pressing tightly against his girth. It hurts so good. The way he pulls your hair, the sting being so pleasurable. The way your jaw hurts from stretching your mouth open wide. The way your knees hurt from sitting on the floor: it’s all the most perfect pain.

“Mmm,” you hum against his tip, making him spill over the edge.

“Shit!” he grunts, spilling a fat load into your mouth. You close your eyes as it squirts out, coating your tongue and the insides of your cheeks. Little droplets of the warm, salty liquid spill out onto your lips, where you lick them up enthusiastically. You met Jake Sully a couple hours ago, and now you’re tasting his semen.

“When was the last time you came like that?” you wipe your mouth, getting up off the floor on wobbly legs.

“C’mere, you can hardly walk,” he says, reaching out and pulling you into his embrace, where you relax, sitting on top of him. You rest your head on his shoulder and curl up into a ball in his lap, he holds you sweetly and strokes your hair. “Where’d you learn to suck dick?” he asks.

“Um, I mean- I was never taught,” you close your eyes.

“Beginner’s luck, huh?” he chuckles.

“I guess,” your voice is raspy, probably because you just had a dick down your throat.

“C’mon, where do you wanna sleep?” he begins to move his wheelchair.

“Next to you,” you say, picking your head and and looking at him. You notice his features up close and trace little shapes on his cheek. “So pretty, Jake. You’re so pretty.” you remark.

“So, my room?” he ignores your touches.

“Anywhere you want,” you lean in, kissing him on the mouth. He takes his hand off of the wheel, holding your face as he kisses back. It’s a sweet kiss. Jake closes his eyes, stops in his tracks, and holds you.

“Your room, then,” he pulls away, smiling at you. It’s the first real smile you’ve got from him. You melt like putty into him while he heads towards your bed. The comforter is white, the sheets are pink, the room smells like you. Smells like home.

He sets you down gently onto the bed, and you crawl in, immediately relaxing in the warm blanket. He gets in after you, taking his shirt off before he tucks himself in.

“Love you, Jake.” you whisper, turning over in bed and cupping his cheek. He turns to look at you, but doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Babe, you’re gonna have to put some clothes on, or else I’ll be hard all night,” he jokes. You ignore that remark, and stare at his abs instead. But your eyes travel down, and something pokes through the blanket under his torso.

“No way,” you shake your head. “You’re an animal!”

“Yeah, I’m also hard. Come here, ride me.” he pats his torso, leaning back completely.

“I don’t wanna be limping tomorrow at work,” you complain.

“Fuck work, come here, ride me.” he orders. Annoyed (but also insanely horny), you hop onto him, straddling him yet again. A euphoric smile crosses his face as you line his wet cock up with your dripping entrance. “Push down now,” he holds your hips tightly, slowly shoving them down. But you resist, confusing him.

“I’m nervous,” you whine.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he kneads the flesh on your ass.

“Don’t know, it’s just-,” you stutter.

“You just rode my thigh and then sucked my dick, there’s nothing to be nervous about.” he teases. You sigh in response. He’s right. “Go on now, I’ll help ya,” he holds you tight as you lower yourself on his cock.

“Mmph!” you grunt, arching your back as the tip stretches you out. Jake gasps, pushing you down further until your clit touches his base. His dick stretches you out far, your walls clench around him tightly. “Oh, oh god,” you pant, toes curling with pleasure. His tip brushes up against your cervix and you cry out.

“Fuck, you’re tight. Relax for me, okay? Take a deep breath,” he pats you lovingly. Your brows furrow as you watch his cock go in and out slowly, and little squeaks come out with every shallow breath you take. “Deep breaths, want me to do ‘em with you?” he offers.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper. His hand traces along your belly and he breathes in slowly through his mouth, making it especially loud for you to follow along. You follow along with him, his cock still balls deep inside of you. Your muscles relax, allowing you to take him with less pain.

“Hurting?” he asks, his grip on you loosening.

“A little, in a good way,” you moan, slowly speeding up. You can feel little vein and twitch, and the slight curve that he has in his dick. Your warm, wet pussy squeezes him tight. It clamps on him harder with every little movement you make. “My god!” you yelp, the stimulation starting to become too much for you.

“I know, I know, just come for me, okay?” he bounces under you as you ride him. “Come all over my cock, real quick, okay?” he grunts.

“Yes, yes!” you throw your head back, stomach coiling as your orgasm nears. Your legs shake more, and Jake grabs your hips again to keep bouncing you. Your hands hold into his pecs for balance, your eyes clench shut. All the deep breathing flies out the window, and you’re back to desperate panting.

“Goddamn, gah-,” he whimpers. Your hands squeeze his chest tightly and your cunt squeezes his dick when you come. You fall forward into him embrace, legs shaking. Your heat contracts around him. You pull your hips away, his wet cock coming out. A squelching noise becomes audible when it leaves you, his cum dripping out of your hole after it. The substance was more watery, after you’d already milked him a few minutes earlier.

“Oh my god,” you hug him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and desperately trying to catch your breath.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” he coos.

“I think being your roommate will work out just fine,” you kiss his neck.

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tsukimefuku · 1 month

Text

Driving lesson

You asked Ijichi for some driving lessons.

Tags: platonic Ijichi & OC/Reader. Friendship. Fluff. Comedy. Crack taken seriously. Ijichi deserves more appreciation, he’s so precious.

WC: 600

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x Reader x Higuruma long fic I might write. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :)

Disclaimer: these stories are NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this one fits in the timeline, please refer to the masterlist above.

Also, this is barely proof-read. I apologize for any blunders 😅

The car jumped, jolted and stopped. Then, it jolted, sped up for a few meters, and halted violently again. You and Ijichi were getting savagely shaken inside the car at your less than ideal abilities in driving it. He had his seatbelt on, and held his glasses on his face, afraid they might take flight the next time you moved your feet.

“Ms., what are you doing?” Ijichi asked, concerned, as you gripped the steering wheel like you were holding onto it for dear life.

“I don’t know!” You exclaimed, in a mix of frustration and desperation. “I have no clue.”

You had asked on a day off for ijichi to help you learn some driving skills, if it ever were something you needed. He agreed, a little suspicious and anxious as to why you would ask that, especially from him, given you seemed to be close to other people like Nanami or even Gojo, who could actually aid you in finding somewhere to get a proper driver’s license.

In reality, you just wanted to learn the basics, so here you were, in an empty parking lot, nearly heart arresting the poor man every time the car moved.

He sighed softly, thinking that going over the instructions one more time would be helpful. “Let’s go back to the beginning. You need to press the brake pedal. Then, you push the button on the gear shift, and slide it from Park to Drive, still pressing on the brake pedal.”

“Right, that’s where I’m at right now. I’m holding the brakes.”

“Then, you let go of the brake pedal slowly, and begin pressing the gas pedal softly.” Ijichi was emphatic when he uttered the words slowly and softly.

“At the same time or do I let go of one pedal and then press the other?” You asked, earnestly.

Ijichi was very confused, and you noticed it.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He silently tilted himself to take a look at your feet, and that was when he realized that you had your left foot on the brake pedal, and the right foot on the gas pedal.

“Ms., you need to operate both pedals with your right foot. Just rest your left foot on the opposite corner.” Ijichi said, pushing his glasses back into position once more, incredulous you’d be doing that and thought it was just fine.

“What?! I have to use only one foot?!” You grunted, tilting your head back on the rest. “Who the hell conceived this death contraption?!”

“An American entrepreneur named Henry Ford.”

You sighed. “Ijichi, I know that. It was rhetorical.”

“Oh.” He answered, slightly embarrassed.

“I mean, I think I should actually go get some lessons and get my driver's license?” You thought out loud, scratching your head with one hand as you put the car in Park with the other.

“Heaven’s, no.” Ijichi let out instantly, by accident.

You looked at him surprised, and he tensed up, ready for the scowling he was already very used to receiving from sorcerers.

You were actually amused at his unrestrained sincerity, and began cackling, much to his confusion. Your laughter was wholehearted.

“I’m a jujutsu sorcerer, my expertise needs to be fighting and exorcizing curses,” you began, “and with no false modesty, I feel like I’m pretty good at it.” Your eyes then met Ijichi’s. “I think I should leave navigating this grim machine for people who are good at it. People like you.”

He looked at you a little taken aback, and feeling somewhat proud at the compliment.

“Yeah, ‘heaven’s, no’. That sounds about right,” you said, chuckling again at it. He began laughing with you, feeling his concern subside.

“So, let’s go get something to eat? All these near death experiences made me hungry.” You chirped, light-spirited.

Ijichi nodded. “I’ll drive.”

You started removing your seatbelt so that you could exchange seats. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, buddy.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk ijichi #ijichi kiyotaka #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk imagines #jjk fic #jjk x reader

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naffeclipse · 10 months

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Just realizing that the fact that there exists an “Angel Eyes” Eclipse implies the existence of either a more foreboding or comically innocent version of him called “Devil Eyes”

oh, Lumi, you just unleashed something devasting

As entertaining as a detective Eclipse would be, innocent and way in over his head when it comes to dealing with a mob boss Y/N who just so happens to find him devilishly handsome and too clever for his own good, I'm thinking of something worse than a mob boss.

As a young rookie cop, you are attempting to put out so many fires in the city. The crime rate is abysmal. The politicians are running on fumes and bribes. The police force is barely hanging on through constant corruption. Animatronics are still considered inhuman, unalive, objects to be owned and used, and disposed of. You're hoping that the laws declaring animatronic rights will pass soon.

Murders happen every single day in a city racked with gangs, crime lords, and thieves. You and a few other officers are tasked with dealing with a particular crime scene. It's not unusual for a politician to get assassinated, but there's something particularly brutal about the killing that sits in your stomach wrong—there was blood everywhere.

Then another important person gets knocked off, the carnage grisly and crimson, then another, and another. You can't shake how savage the murders are.

High-ranking officials start having you and other cops stand as bodyguards, taking them where they need to go, standing outside their meeting doors and on the street of their homes at night.

The killings keep happening. You learn of police officers who were standing watch were gutted, too. Slained just as well as the intended target.

You do your job, but you don't like it. You became a cop to help the city. This wasn't what you had in mind, much less babysitting powerful and possibly corrupted individuals that you despise.

That's how you confront him.

Late one evening, sitting in a squad car with a fellow policeman, you two keep each other awake with small talk until you hear the faintest scream. You both take off, and you take the back of the house. When you enter the gauche kitchen, there's a cook animatronic knocked to the ground. You stop to speak to the poor robot, her optics fuzzy until you offer a helping hand and get her back onto her wheels.

Before you can send her somewhere safe, a cold shudder rolls down your spine, as if someone were walking on your grave. You whirl around to find a towering figure at the far end of the room, dark and threatening. Black optics with pinpricks of electric yellow peer at you in judgment. The devilish eyes startle your soul.

You yell out commands to stop but the animatronic—you realize—doesn't head and disappears deeper into the house.

You give chase. You hear a gunshot upstairs and a shout from your partner. When you reach the second landing, you lift your gun to take aim, but a large fist clamp around your own. You fire once, hitting nothing. You're thrown against the wall, dangling by the wrists under the looming killer. Sharp rays, burgundy and royal blue, circle his face plate, splattered in bright blood.

It's too late. It's too late for the politician, it's too late for your partner, and it's too late for you.

He takes your gun and drops it far away. His staggering height gives no hope that you can fight him off, and already, he has you pinned. You simply hope that it will be quick, painless, but your heart sinks when he lifts a hand to your throat. His optics glint. You close your eyes.

A cold, slick finger tilts your chin up. He commands you to look at him, and you aversely obey. The optics scan your face. You wonder if he takes a sick pleasure from causing harm. You loathe that he most likely finds fear in your eyes but you are determined to not make a sound.

"Officer," he says in a cold, dark voice that spears your heart. He studies the badge on your chest, reading your last name etched in brass. You clench your fists, still suspended by his one large hand.

"Who are you?" you demand.

He doesn't answer. He cocks his head with a flash of sharp teeth in a metallic grin. When he drops you, you nearly crumple to the ground. You're aware of the blood underneath your chin where he had touched you. When you try to reach for your handcuffs, he's already down the stairs and out the door, fleeing the murders. Trembling, you fumble for your gun, but you find the clip gone.

The killer animatronic left you alive.

#ahhhh lumi! you make me go feral!!!#brain worms are worming #devil eyes #<<< au title hehe #listen this is dark and grisly and gonna involve psychological horror as eclipse stalks you lovely little cop you #he makes it knows that he knows where you live #you later find the clip of your gun on your table as if you set it there that morning but no that's not right #you keep chasing him #he keeps finding you at night #you're certain he's gonna kill you one day but he keeps busy with targets--specifically ones that oppose the animatronic rights #and you slowly start piecing together the puzzle that is eclipse #okay rant over thanks for reading my word vomit #officer!y/n #killer!eclipse

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