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multiland · 1 year

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summary: They say people turn into their most vulnerable selves in the middle of the night, can you trust yourself at 3 a.m. to keep hiding the crush you've been harboring on your friend?

pairing: Joshua x female reader (ft. best friend Jeonghan and the rest of svt)

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut.

warnings: kissing, tension, fingering, a bit of oral (m), mutual pining, cursing, mentions of alcohol, Joshua being oblivious, soft dom Joshua, body worshipping, dirty talk, unprotected sex. Shua is the sweetest. This was an old fic I wrote for another group, so I decided to take it and edit it enough to use it again.

please leave some feedback!! it motivates me a lot🩷

word count: 12k

You’ve heard a lot of good things about turning twenty-seven, and despite you not being the biggest fan of celebrating your birthdays, you weren’t surprised the moment your group of friends decided to book a trip to celebrate properly.

Consisting of mostly males, you’re used to them taking every opportunity to drink and throw parties. However, since spending time with them is fun and makes you happy, you would never actually complain.

"Do you think it's gonna be like, really cold out there?" That's the main question spinning around your head as you stare at your open closet, still debating on which pieces of clothing are the ones that should be packed.

Jeonghan, who's sprawled on your bed with his back against the headboard as he scrolls through social media, hums, not looking up.

He’s been your best friend since high school. You had heard about him back then due to his prince-like appearance, and him unsurprisingly having every single girl wrapped around his finger. Funny enough, and seemingly accustomed to the attention, he never really batted an eye at any of them. Despite being aware of his almost-unrealistic beauty, you didn’t really gave much thought to anything related to him besides whatever you’d hear the girls fussing about across the corridors.

But then, on a good day, you found each other rolling your eyes at the same girl’s annoying tone of voice, the two of you realized and even chuckled. It was an instant click and you’ve been inseparable since then.

A perfect balance between being different but so similar at the same time. You truly didn’t believe in soulmates, but turns out you can find one in the shape of a friend.

It had never occurred to you, however, that befriending the prince of school would instantly make you part of a much bigger group of, admittedly, really good-looking guys and girls when you started college.

That’s what brings you here.

"What do you think, Sherlock?" He quirks a brow, as he glances up in your direction. "We're going to the mountains, there's no way it's gonna be hot up there unless it’s like, a volcano."

An annoyed sigh falls past your lips as you roll your eyes at his antics, grabbing different styles of sweaters, hoodies, jackets, and all that could be of use in such weather. Turning around, you carefully fold your clothes and place them into the opened suitcase at the edge of the bed.

"Please remind me. Why were we going to the mountains instead of the beach, again?"

Jeonghan's lips curl up in a soft smirk, locking his phone and tossing it to the side before his eyes land on yours.

"Because going to the beach is too basic. We always go to the beach."

"So all of you just decided to go on a trip to the cold ass mountains and rent wooden cabins in the middle of April in the name of… What? Eccentricity?" You narrow your eyes. "Yeah. Sounds like something my group of friends would do."

The man chuckles.

"Don't be a brat. You didn't have to pay for anything, this is your birthday gift from us, and all you have to do is look pretty and try to get your grumpy ass to have fun."

You fold your arms over your chest, raising a brow at his words.

"Yeah, sounds like my dream holiday having to babysit drunk adults."

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

"Look, complain all you want once we’re back. Let’s not ruin the mood." He insists. "Besides, since it's your birthday, you can avoid all kinds of responsibilities. But you don't tell them I told you that or i’ll make sure to bring Soonyoung to your bed when he’s drunk and crying."

Panic instantly crosses your features.

“My lips are totally sealed.” It's a promise, gesturing to zip them with your fingers.

Plopping yourself down onto the mattress, you lay your head on Jeonghan’s lap. His slender fingers immediately fly to thread in your hair, gentle scraps on your scalp relaxing your body.

"Then, does that mean you're gonna take care of them for me?" You ask, looking up at his face in hope, trying your best puppy eyes just to guilt trip him.

Jeonghan scoffs.

"Me? No way. I did it once and ended up having both Seokmin and Soonyoung sneaking into my bed. Soonyoung kept crying and Seokmin just laughed at him. They were so loud I had to leave the room. Not to mention I had to wash the damn sheets cause one of them vomited in the middle of the night."

Grimacing at the thought, you really try not to laugh at the same time.

“Sounds like a ride.” You tease. "What about Seungkwan?"

Dark eyes glare down at you.

"He was sleeping peacefully in his bed."

"Why didn't one of them go to his bed?"

Sighing, he says: "I didn’t let them move. Having these two drunk is one thing, having these two drunk and Seungkwan cursing at the top of his lungs at three in the morning is something entirely different. We’ve had complaints from the neighbors."

"Yeah… I wouldn’t risk it, either."

Then, he chuckles.

"The best option is leaving them to either Cheol or Minghao." You nod in agreement, “Preferably Cheol. Hao doesn’t have that much patience after a while.”

Right after, his phone goes off and he checks the incoming message. "Well, here we go again." He comments, taking a deep breath before pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Your eyes open, brows knitting together as you sit up.

"What's up?"

"Soonyoung was betting with Seokmin and got his head stuck somewhere around the park fence." He explains, "Gotta go. Sorry."

He stands up, and you can do nothing but smile sympathetically at him.

"Good luck with that." With the same smile, you pat his arm. He steps forward and flicks on your forehead with his fingers, before walking to the door. You groan in response, rubbing the sore area.

"Don't forget the vans will be here at 7 a.m."

Right. You need to act like an early bird, and your first reaction to the reminder is a groan.

"How many times do I have to say I’m not a morning person?"

“The same amount of times I have to tell Soonyoung to keep his head out of any kind of holes.” He adds, waving one last time before finally exiting your room.

As soon as he leaves, you let out a big sigh. Truthfully, you’re intrigued by how this trip is going to be, and you kinda know for sure sleeping’s gonna be a challenge.

The sound of your alarm pulls you out of the slumber you worked so hard to get in. Groaning, you stretch out your arm to stop the torture from continuing any further. Your lids don’t seem to cooperate, too tired and heavy to open and making you question if you really need to go on that trip to begin with. You could just call them and say you woke up feeling ill and you can’t leave the house while being sick, right?

As if on cue, you instantly have Jeonghan’s voice resonating in your head, telling you all the possible consequences of you bailing everyone when everything’s ready. All the ways he would blackmail you into getting up, in short.

So after taking a deep breath and stretching your limbs once again, you pull the duvet off of you and stand up, dragging your feet sleepily towards the bathroom to take a shower and get as ready as you can actually be.

Admittedly, you took longer than you should have thanks to all the times you dozed off in the shower, and that’s exactly what’s making you rush as your phone keeps buzzing incessantly against the marbled sink, with incoming calls from your best friend.

You can’t even make yourself look presentable at this point, messily throwing your clothes on and grabbing your luggage to drag downstairs, your hair still dripping wet.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You exclaim, picking up one of his calls, and then hanging up before you could even get a response from the other side of the line.

Turning the lights off, you open the front door and place the luggage down to close the entrance, trying to catch your breath, cause for fuck’s sake, you’re still sleepy, it’s early in the morning and you already not only had to run downstairs, but also carry such a heavy suitcase on your own…Cause if you’re being honest, you probably packed more than what you needed for a weekend-long trip.

The sound of the van’s door sliding open can be heard from behind, as you lock the door. The wet droplets falling from your hair dampen your shirt and make you shiver. However, nothing prepares your body for the reaction it gets as soon as you turn around and see him.

Standing there, perfect silky hair dangling over his eyes and curling up at the nape of his neck. Sparkly round orbits narrowed in a try to protect themselves from the inclement rays of sunshine, and pretty lips forming the sweetest tight-lipped smile you could’ve dreamed to have seen this early in the morning. Your heart skips a bit, and all the sleepiness washes away; all of this before you can even stop yourself from returning the gesture.

Joshua Hong. You met him one of those times when Jeonghan had dragged you to a small gathering with his friends, then finding him at the nearest convenience store you had from your job.

As soon as you saw him, you were instantly smitten. His doe eyes, cute nose, and sweet voice made the air get stuck in your throat. And as if being so incredibly pretty-faced wasn’t enough, there’s the plus of such a warm personality.

What at first started off as simple acquaitances with friends in common, slowly blossomed into a friendship. Joshua was often who spent time with you at parties, whenever Jeonghan was busy either playing alcohol games, or arguing over something random with someone else. He was also who you found at the book store in search of some kind of book so you could learn how to bake cupcakes in your sugar craving nights. He is, also, someone you feel totally comfortable with, someone selfless who never judges anyone. Someone with a view of the world in a positive light, a free spirit that only encourages you to be true to yourself and accept others as they are.

All the times you’ve felt out of place, or simply aren’t in the mood to do anything at all, there he is to sit with you and listen to all your rants with that sweet smile adorning his face, just as if you were telling him the most interesting of stories.

He’s a music enthusiast. Likes to play guitar and morning walks to clear his mind. Such sunchild like him was able to charm a moonchild like you. So different, but so similar at the same time.

Despite that, the two of you ended up having more things in common than you could’ve expected. None of you like confrontation, and often prefer spontaneity. Both enjoy rainy days, and spending time at home in front of a fireplace when winter arrives. He’s a gentleman, never speaks over anyone and rarely raises his voice. He’s patient, and always makes you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk.

All those little things did nothing but irremediably attract you, feel nothing but admiration towards the way he sees life and empathizes with you or others.

He’s sweet, and fun to be around. With a sweet laugh and authenticity, the way he’s so soft-spoken and the way he never hesitates to offer help with chores, he’s domestic, so down to earth, nothing short of a prince. A good friend, a good listener, and in truth, you could’ve considered him one of your closest friends if it wasn’t for a simple reason… As a best friend, you have Jeonghan for. In his case, you have a big, fat crush on. So, although sharing a lot of time together, you just can’t help the way your heart flutters whenever he’s around. With a friend you share teasing, pranks, messiness… With Joshua, you share peace, comfort.

The already too-long list of traits to make you fall for someone has had his name highlighted for a while, and it seems that he always finds a new way to make you fall even deeper.

Like that day he sang his favorite song in front of you with his guitar in hand. You knew back then you were done for.

This crush you have on him is something you’ve been harboring, keeping to yourself as a precious secret, cause yeah, he’s your friend, but also if the way you look at him when he’s not even doing anything doesn’t give you away, then maybe everyone else is just oblivious.

Joshua makes his way over to you and your heart races. God, he looks so good and you look like you just rolled off your bed and fell into a puddle.

He smiles again and leans down to pick your suitcase, looking into your eyes as soon as he stands up back straight.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, Shua. I’m doing good, what about you?” Greet him back, a simple task it should be. But your voice betrays you and comes out in almost a whisper. Since you can't make it obvious, you gnaw at your lower lip in embarrassment. However, Joshua being Joshua, pays no mind.

“I’m great, thank you. Let me help you with this.”

And they say chivalry is dead. Your lips form a smile, following behind him on the way to the van.

“Thank you.” You say softly, stopping behind him as he places your luggage somewhere with the rest of the suitcases.

“My pleasure.”

You flinch when the van parked behind suddenly opens its door, and the next thing you hear is your name being called from the inside. The voices of Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Chan, who you find waving at you as soon as you turn your head. With a chuckle, you wave back at them, gesturing with your hand for them to stop the noise before someone gets mad right after.

Joshua meets your gaze when you look back, and gestures with his head for you to get in. You smile again because that’s all you can do when he’s around.

Then you hop in the vehicle and Jeonghan waves at you from the last row of seats at the back. Making your way over, you keep the same small smile, noticing the sleeping boys across the other seats before you plop down next to your friend.

The door closes right after Joshua hops back in, and you’re stealing glances at him until the man next to you grabs your face between his fingers and turns your head to look at him. He frowns.

“Any reason in particular why you’re soaking?”

Your brows knit together, and he releases you.

“Just felt like getting refreshed.”

Your best friend snorts, and you shoot him a glare in return.

“You fell asleep in the shower, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

He giggles, and you decide to ignore him as the car starts moving, fastening your seatbelt. It doesn't take long until your eyes fly back to the object of your desires.

You don’t know how you’re gonna survive being so close to him.

Three hours into the road trip and you’re sleeping soundly against Jeonghan’s shoulder while he scrolls through his phone. The van comes to a stop, so everyone is able to go to the bathroom or buy more snacks. Some of the boys are gathering outside before Jun approaches Seungcheol and Joshua.

“Hey, do you guys think I could move to your van? My seatbelt isn’t working and I’ve been panicking over every single bump on the road for like three hours, I’m exhausted.”

Seungcheol and Joshua laugh.

“Why would you wait three hours to say anything?” Seungcheol asks, tilting his head in confusion. Jun’s brows furrow together before he says:

“What else was I supposed to do? Stop the van in the middle of nowhere?”

“You could’ve called me and I would’ve asked the driver to pull over to take care of it.” The eldest shrugs, Jun groans.

“Can I go to your van or not?”

Seungcheol looks at Joshua, who shrugs as he sips on his water bottle.

“Sure, I can move to the last row.”

Jun smiles with his thumbs up before they make their way back to the van. Junhui goes to the other vehicle to take his pillow and bring it with him. Joshua, once inside, grabs some of his stuff and walks toward the back of the car. Seeing you asleep as the corners of his mouth curl up in the most subtle smile at the scene, right when Jeonghan looks up at him in question.

“Jun is moving to this van.” He says quietly as if reading the male's mind. Jeonghan nods and goes back to his business.

The slender Junhui finally hops into the van with his stuff, taking Joshua’s previous seat and fastening his seatbelt. The door slides closed and Joshua secures himself as well, tucking his AirPods in his ears and playing his music.

Everything is peaceful for the next thirty or so minutes, Joshua is currently with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, head back resting against the headrest as his mind focuses only on the music.

But then, you stir in your sleep and move to lean your head on his shoulder. His body tenses as soon as he feels your sudden proximity, face nuzzling in the crook of his neck and forcing him to gulp. He starts playing with his own fingers, averting his gaze from the window, not really knowing how to react. He waits for you to realize, but soon notices you’re still deeply asleep, so he lets you stay there for the rest of the road.

“Hey, wake up, we arrived,” Jeonghan calls, gently shaking you. “Hey, open your eyes,” He repeats, and you’re finally woken up, sitting straight and rubbing your eyes to help them get used to the light.

Disoriented for a moment, the gears in your brain slowly start to work at their normal speed. You stretch out your now sore limbs as you look at your surroundings. All the boys left their vans except you, Jeonghan trying to wake you up, and Joshua, whom you notice is still seated beside you. You frown, but he smiles.

“Wait, weren’t you sitting in the front row? What did I miss? How long did I sleep?”

He chuckles, charmed by your utter confusion.

“Well, yeah, but Jun moved to this van. You would’ve noticed if you hadn’t been sleeping for four hours,” Jeonghan is the one to respond, grabbing your hands and pulling you up.

“Four hours?!” You exclaim, rubbing your eyes.

The faintest grunt manages to be hidden from you, and all of you three make your way to exit the van. Jeonghan is the first one to jump out, followed by Joshua. Your vision is still blurry and you’re still clumsy from the grogginess, which doesn’t make the calculation between the van and the floor an easy task.

Joshua notices, so he extends his hand for you to take. You look at it, then at his face. He offers you yet another gentle smile and your stomach flips even in your current state. Still, you smile back and accept his hand, clasping yours around it as he helps you land on your feet without an issue.

You reunite with the rest of the guys soon after, and they’re quick to erase any trace of tiredness as soon as they start being their loud selves, taking turns to hug you or pat your head.

And well, you don’t complain, because it’s nice to have all of them around.

You take a second to look at your surroundings, but the air is way too filled with haze to be able to distinguish anything at all. The cold breeze chills you to the bone and you start to feel the urge to get into to the warmth of the cabin, and as if your prayers had been heard, you spot Seungcheol walking with a few pairs of keys and two girls in their twenties following behind him.

“Okay. So, we have four cabins at our disposition. In the first one will stay Minghao, Seokmin, Vernon and Jihoon. Junhui, Chan, Seungkwan and Soonyoung in the second one, Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Mingyu in the third, and lastly, the fourth one is for Joshua, myself, and our girl here.” He explains. “They the hosts, Jihye and Jangmi.”

The ground beneath you quakes at the thought of sharing a place with Joshua himself, breath hitching in your throat and mouth going dry. Your eyes nervously travel to the two girls in front of you, as if asking for help. They don't help you, but they also seem very welcoming and kind.

“Hi, I’m Jihye. We live here in a house that’s around the corner, and we’ll gladly be available for anything you may need.” She smiles. “The four cabins are equipped with furniture, fireplaces, kitchens, two bathrooms, and four rooms respectively. Each room has a TV, a heater, a desk, and a closet for you to place all of your items.”

“In the living room you’ll find the fireplace, comfortable couches, and even a sofa bed. In the kitchen, you have a small dining table, a microwave, a refrigerator, and different kinds of utensils for you to use,” The second girl adds. “Here in the common areas, you have some benches, picnic tables, and grillers. We also have wifi and my name is Jangmi, by the way.” She chuckles, and all of you laugh along.”

“Also, the bathrooms have a water heater and a first aid kit inside the cabinets. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to reach out and we’ll be happy to help.” Continues Jihye, with a kind smile.

All of you bow in gratitude for their help, right before Soonyoung speaks.

“Are you aware that we’re throwing a party tomorrow night?” He asks in genuine curiosity, Jihye nods.

“Yeah, we’ve been notified and you don’t have to worry about anything. Since we’re in a mountain, there shouldn’t be a problem when it comes to music, for example.”

“Cool!”

“Okay but, I have a question.” You finally speak, feeling everyone’s eyes landing on you. You clear your throat. “Would it be weird if I asked you to join?”

Certainly, you don’t know these girls, but they seem very sweet and it would be awful of you not to, at least, ask them if they’d like to join when they’re so close.

“Oh that’s alright! You don’t have to.” One of them says, waving her hand dismissively.

“But we’d love it if you joined us,” Seokmin says, walking to you and placing his arm around your neck. “It’ll be fun.”

All of them agree, and the girls seem a bit taken aback, you suppose they’ve never been included in anything similar when it comes to tourists. But then, and after a quick glance to one another, they smile.

“If that’s okay with you, we’d love to.”

You smile at them.

“Then it’s settled up.”

Needless to say, you didn’t take long to stop by Jeonghan’s cabin. After taking a much-needed shower and getting diner, you dressed in your coziest pajamas and exited your place to visit your best friend.

And there you are, sprawled across his bed as he sits on the chair in front of the desk.

Staring up at the ceiling fan, you blurt out:

“I was hoping we’d stay at the same cabin.”

“Don’t pretend like you like me that much.” Jeonghan promptly responds. Teasing you as you prop yourself up with your elbows to glare at him. “You have the Hong Jisoo himself in there, what else could you ask for as a birthday gift?”

A faint gasp escapes you, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. He laughs out loud.

“Shut the fuck up, would you?” You whisper-shout, crawling to the edge of the bed to get closer. He tries to stop laughing but your distressed expression makes it impossible for him. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you. No one’s supposed to know.”

“Yeah, because no one would ever notice the way you shamelessly keep staring at him.”

“You’re exaggerating.” You groan, smacking his thigh while he continues laughing. “Cut it out, you asshole.”

His laugh slowly dies down, then he catches his breath.

“Anyway… Not the point.” He continues. “He’s going to be in the room across from yours. Would you really want to have me there instead of him?”

There it is. That stupid look with a quirked brow. He really knows you well.

You groan, covering your face with your palms before laying down on your back.

“You’re so fucking annoying”

“I wonder how you’ll react when I tell you that you slept on him for over an hour.”

Eyes flying open, you almost fall off the bed.

“What did you say?! What the fuck? I did not, you always like to see me distressed. You’re fucking with me.” Embarrassment floods inside you, grabbing another pillow to repeatedly hit him with it as a coping mechanism.

Jeonghan once again laughs at your reaction, covering himself with his arms before snatching the pillow away.

“Stop it with the damned pillow.” He groans. “And no, I’m not lying. Though I do love the way you’re losing your shit.”

“How am I supposed to look at him whe-” You trail off, “Wait, did I drool? Snore? Fart?” Jeonghan laughs again. “Stop laughing for fuck’s sake, Yoon Jeonghan. I’m going to bite your head off!”

“God you’re so dramatic.” He chuckles. “Nothing big, he’ll understand if you’re a bit gassy.”

“What?!”

He laughs out loud again.

“I’m just kidding. You didn’t do anything.”

“What kind of best friend are you?”

“The one you chose, sweetheart.” He teases, grabbing your chin with his fingers and winking at you. You roll your eyes, then smack his hand away.

The door opens right after, and Vernon's head pops in.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie with us?”

“Who are ‘us’?” You ask in return.

“Ehh… I don’t know? Kwan, Chan, Hao, Jun, Joshua… Me?” He shrugs. “Most of us.”

Giving it a thought, you end up realizing you don't truly feel like making a fool of yourself any further, so you smile and shake your head.

“I think I’ll pass. I have to unpack and I’m feeling tired.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow then.” Vernon smiles, waving before closing the door.

Jeonghan gives you a suspicious look.

“What?”

“You slept the whole road and you’re tired?”

“Well, yeah… Panicking is exhausting.” You respond, gaining a roll of his eyes in return. “I’ll go to my room and think about my life decisions. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You add, walking towards the door.

“Sure, just know I’ll tell Joshua you didn’t stay because of him.”

You glare back at your best friend. He laughs.

“Make sure I don’t touch your coffee in the morning, Yoon Jeonghan”

You’re snuggled up in the warmth of the designated bed, sleeping peacefully until the door slams open and a bunch of men enter the room singing very loudly a happy birthday.

A groan erupts from your throat against the pillow, lights being turned on before you can even sit up and rub your eyes to adjust to the sudden illuminance. The cheerful idiots continue singing off key on purpose, clapping as Seungcheol walks to you with a cake in his hands, candles already lit and ready for you to blow off.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, though, running your fingers through your hair in a failed try to look a little less disheveled. Jeonghan jumps onto the opposite end of your bed, kneeling as he also sings and claps. Soonyoung, on the other hand, climbs onto the edge of the mattress just to sing louder and start throwing some improvised confetti. They continue hollering, clapping, and overall being a mess. Then you make a wish, blowing the candles out right after. Lazy smile on your face, clapping along with them.

“Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, guys. If it wasn’t for the gesture, I would’ve murdered all of you for waking me up.” You sarcastically say, accepting the knife Seungcheol hands you and cutting a small piece of cake.

“Aren’t you eating?” Chan asks from behind, you shake your head.

“You guys eat first. I still have to wash up.”

With that, Seokmin takes the cake away from you and exits the room with some of the guys following behind.

“We still have to go grocery shopping for tonight,” Seungcheol says.

“Yeah, I can go with Jeonghan.”

“I’ll go too. Jihye is going to come with us to be a guide,” Cheol adds. “Do you wanna join, Shua?” He asks the man standing next to him, the same one whose presence you hadn’t noticed until now. A sudden wave of embarrassment flows throughout you, considering the way you look, cheeks warming up when he smiles.

“Sure, no problem.”

“Okay then we’ll meet outside in thirty minutes,” Seungcheol adds. Stepping closer, he pats your head lovingly. “Happy birthday, once again.”

You mumble a “Thank you.” at him, eyes briefly glancing over at Joshua, who only gives you another one of his gentle and reassuring smiles before walking out of the room.

Jeonghan is quick to engulf you in a hug, a hand stroking the hair at the back of your head.

“You’re an oldie now.” He mutters against your head. “Can you feel your thirties breathing on your neck yet?"

You roll your eyes and push him away, glaring at him. He chuckles.

“Get out, I have to take a shower.”

“Right, sleeping beauty.” He leaves another caress on your head accompanied by a soft smile, “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, that dragon breath will even scare the demons away.”

Covering your mouth with your hands, your face is soon face filled with distress.

“Jeonghan!”

He laughs loudly, standing up and making his way towards the door.

“Just kidding, see you later.” He shuts the door closed behind him after a very obnoxious wink.

Air fills up your lungs with a deep breath, Jeonghan's comment sobering you up immediately and forcing you to hurry off the bed to get into the bathroom, take a shower and get dressed.

As soon as you’re ready, you grab a scarf from the closet, then your phone to make your way out of the cabin, not before stealing a very much needed piece of cake.

The sunlight greets you when you walk through the door, its usual warmth doing nothing in contrast to the freezing air that collides against the exposed skin of your face. You’re quick to wrap the scarf around your neck, boots dragging across the grassy ground as you pull your phone out to of your pocket to send Jeonghan a message.

A sigh leaves your lips, and you're shoving your phone back into your pocket the moment you find Joshua already standing there, hands in his pockets and fluffy hair shining under the sunlight.

He's craning his neck as soon as he notices your presence, smiling at you.

“Good morning, again.”

“Nice seeing you again, birthday girl.” He greets you back, stepping closer and patting your head sweetly. His touch is gentle, way more gentle than Jeonghan’s or any others. He’s careful and sweet. Still, you chuckle to not make it weird.

“It's like I'm a like a dog. Everyone’s been patting my head today.”

Joshua chuckles, a small cloud of fog escaping from his lips to remind you of the cold surroundings, even when you seem to have forgotten about it with the heat in your veins.

“I’m sorry, we are really annoying.”

Laughing, you shake your head.

“No, no. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You assure, wishing you could add how you’re especially fond of his gentle touches. “I know that’s your way of showing affection.” You add. Because that’s what you hope in your head, that somehow, he have affection for you.

“Of course.” A light and melodious chuckle resonates after his response, patting your head once again.

Silly little giggles are the only thing that come from you in result.

Then, he looks behind you. His smile grows and he lifts his hand up to wave. When you turn around, you see what he’s staring at.

Seungcheol and Jihye make their way towards the two of you.

“Ready to leave?”

“Yeah, we are.” You smile, rubbing your hands together in search of warmth.

“Bonding, aren’t we?” Seungcheol teases, making you smile.

“You could say that.”

You look at Joshua after responding, he chuckles, and your stomach flips.

“Alright then! Follow me, the store is nearby.” Jihye finally speaks, soon having the three of you following her lead.

The walk is quick and chill, something you’re grateful for considering how cold it is outside. When you arrive at the market, you grab a cart and start walking.

“Okay, so, what do we need?” You ask Cheol, who gives it a brief thought.

“Some drinks, snacks, plates, cups? Preferably plastic ones. Also, some trash plastic bags to clean in the morning.”

“Okay, the plasticware is here at the right. The snacks and drinks are on the opposite side, where the refrigerators are." Jihye explains, hands gesturing as she points to the directions.

“Good. I’ll go with Jihye and you can take care of the snacks and drinks.” He says to both Joshua and you. “Pick whatever you want, it’s your birthday.”

“I might take the whole store with me, then.” You joke, and he chuckles.

The four of you part ways, with you and Joshua going together. He takes you by surprise by sneaking one of his hands in between your arms. You look up at him, confused.

“I’ll do it.” He smiles. You accept the offer with a smile and move aside to let him take your place. Your heartbeats increase in speed at the simple act of chivalry, while you're also trying to distract yourself by eyeing up the shelves.

How’s it possible that he hasn't noticed the way his mere presence puts your whole world upside down?

Looking at all the different flavors, sizes, and textures of potato chips, Doritos, and sweets that are displayed, you decide to quietly contemplate the ones you're craving the most. Joshua's soft voice in the distance lets you be aware that he’s gonna go and grab some beers while you make up your mind.

Since you're such an indecisive individual, you start grabbing packs randomly. Salty, spicy chips, some peperos, and even some biscuits for a change. It's now your mission to find those celestial Honey Butter Chips you’d die for, and when you finally spot them, you groan because of fucking course they had to be placed at the top of the shelf and very much impossible for you to reach them.

How cliché is that?

Still, you try, because one can’t let one's pride be wounded, plus, you’re way too introverted to ask for help anyway. Standing on tiptoes with one arm holding the rest of the snacks, you stretch out your free limb and try to, at least, make one of the damned bags fall to the floor. You don't make it, though. The tips of your fingers barely graze against the bag.

“Need some help?”

The man's voice makes you freeze on the spot. Brain malfunctioning as soon as you feel his breath on your neck. His huge hand reaches for the chips, all of this in seemingly slow motion. You stay there, paralyzed and with your eyes glued to him.

Stepping back, he holds the bag of chips in front of him, wiggling it. His lips curl up sweetly.

“I got you.”

It's automatic, the way you start detailing every single feature of that gorgeous face. The smoothness and melanin of his skin, the roundness of his lips, and the intense but glowing irises of his dark eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone this pretty in your life.

He snaps you back into reality once he tilts his head, noticing you’ve been staring for too long. You mentally slap yourself, cheeks red in embarrassment at the possibility of making him uncomfortable. The only solution seems to be clearing your throat and looking away.

“Thanks, Shua.”

“You’re welcome.” He says, hand placing the item inside the cart and starting to move again, “You should’ve asked me, though, I was right there.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you. I could do it myself.” This is your insecurity speaking, or the first cheap excuse you have now decided to throw. Whatever suits best the situation.

Joshua can only laugh at that, moving his hand to place it on top of your head. You turn your gaze in his direction, like a deer in headlights as he smiles at you, leaning against the handle on his elbow.

“I know you can.” He coos, caressing the top of your head and sending sparks throughout your body. “Just let yourself be pampered today.”

A smile creeps up your face, finding it hard to look away but doing it anyway. The two of you start walking around the store, and somehow it’s like you two are partners in crime. Stealing glances and soft smiles, slightly bumping into each other. You feel it then, the way warmth radiates from him and embraces you. It’s not cold whenever he’s around.

Soon, you cross paths with Seungcheol and Jihye again. Make your way to the cashier and be ready to pay for everything to go back to the cabins.

On your way back, you spot an ice rink. There are just a few people skating at this time of the day. Your eyes light up instantly.

“Woah, I didn’t know there was one of these in here.” You mumble, your three companions standing next to you.

“Oh! That’s a popular spot for families and tourists to have fun. We love to bring our friends sometimes.” It's Jihye's voice that follows, explaining as you smile at the sight of some children having fun in their ice skates.

“I can imagine, it looks so fun.”

You're having a moment with your inner child. There will be time later to get to the point of embarrassment. That, of course, if you don't notice the way Joshua looks at you ever so fondly.

“Wanna skate for a bit?”

Unexpected. That's what Joshua's question is. You're looking back at him, tilting your head.

“I would, but there are things to set for tonight.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Seungcheol assures then, smiling at you. “It’s your birthday, we will take care of everything. You can stay here and have fun.”

His words bring an instant grin to your face.

“Really? Should I?”

“Of course! It’s on the house!”

Oh, sweet Jihye.

“Oh no no, I can pay for it, you don’t have to!”

She shakes her head dismissively.

“That’s alright! The owners are family friends. Take it as a birthday gift.”

How can you not smile at her kindness?

“Thank you.”

“Alright let me grab these,” Cheol speaks, snatching the bags you’ve been holding. “Shua, take care of her and all of that.”

“Of course.”

Joshua looks at you then, a sweet and comforting smile being sent in your direction.

“I’ll see you guys in a while!” Then you say, as you wave at them goodbye.

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

Joshua nods his head for you to follow him, and of course, you do.

You certainly didn’t think this through. All things considered.

It shows the moment you put the skates on. Wobbly legs make their way into the rink. It’s not as easy as you imagined.

“I think this wasn’t a good idea.”

Now you're holding onto the walls for dear life, speaking to yourself, and reconsidering your choices in life. Then, you spot Joshua a few meters away. Skating on the ice as if it were nothing, his hands in his pockets, and the wind blowing his hair.

He then turns around in search of you, taking a few seconds to actually find you. As soon as he does, he laughs at the scene of you in the very corner.

He moves closer to you, and you’re so, so embarrassed you want the damn ice to melt and let you drown in it.

“You okay there?”

You want to let out the loudest whine, but you must act your age this time. You can't possibly make more of a fool of yourself in front of the man you like.

“Just peachy.”

You're clawing onto the brick wall, almost counting the seconds until you’re ass planted on the floor.

Joshua's big hand grabs one of your wrists, and you look at him with panic.

“Come on, let’s help you out.”

“Wait wait, I’ll fall, Joshua!”

There it is. The whine you desperately wanted to hold made it to the surface. It only makes him laugh even more.

“You’re okay, I won’t let you fall.” A bold statement for someone who clearly doesn't know the great amount of clumsiness encased in such a little body. He continues pulling you away from the wall and holding onto your hands. “Just relax, yeah?”

He starts skating backward slowly. You don't know how he manages to be so relaxed as you cut the circulation from his fingers. But it'll have to do.

“This was such a bad idea, I’m so embarrassed.”

He starts loosening the grip on your hands. Realization hits you instantly, eyes flying open as he distances himself from you.

"Don't you fucking dare, Hong Jisoo! Come back here!"

Chuckle after chuckle. Seems like you're his main source of comedy today.

“You can do it.”

“Joshua Hong, you better come and hold my fucking hands.”

It's a threat, but he doesn't see it as such, even with your gritted teeth. He only looks down at you, clearly amused.

“Come on, you’ll be fine. It's not that bad, is it?"

“Why are you doing this to me? My mistake was thinking you'd be better than Yoon Jeonghan but I was clearly wrong. I swear to god you’ll pay the hospital bills when my bones break, and I hope you feel guilty for the rest of your life, cause how can you do this shit to me, Jisoo. I absolutely despise the sh-”

“Stop ranting and look at yourself.”

And you do. With a chuckle, you slowly and clumsily move your legs.

“Oh, would you look at that? I’m actually doing it.” You laugh, looking up at him. The fondness in his eyes sends butterflies to your stomach.

He comes closer then, and grabs your hands once again.

“Let’s move a little faster.”

"Let's fucking not!"

He doesn’t even let you oppose before he’s moving quicker. You want to kill him for a moment, but then you're actually having fun, laughing together, very romantic.

Until you trip.

Thankfully, he’s quick to pull you onto him and wrap an arm around your waist to stop your fall.

Bodies pressing together, your hands placed against his chest, looking into his eyes.

“You okay?” He whispers, so close to your face you can actually see his condensed breath.

You only nod, and for some reason, the two of you stay like this for a few seconds. Looking at each other, his eyes traveling between your eyes and down to your lips.

You could swear he’s leaning in, maybe wishful thinking or whatever, but you can almost taste his lips.

But then he clears his throat and helps you stand straight.

“That was close.” He says with a small, nervous laugh. “Sorry if it was too much.”

Yeah, you're being delusional.

“No, it’s okay. It was fun.”

“Uh, well... It’s getting dark.” He continues, looking up at the sky, then looking back at you. “Should we head back?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He makes sure to help you get safely to the exit. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to go back to the cabins, that are sadly way too close to the rink… One hour alone with him wasn’t enough.

When you arrive, it saddens you to think that the special moment you shared with him is now over. Still, you wonder if what happened between you two back in the rink was really your imagination.

Your friends run to you as soon as they notice your arrival. They promise everything’s ready and all you need to do is get dressed and enjoy the party.

With a smile, you go back to your room and start getting ready.

Later at night, everyone is already gathered outside. The boys whistle at you teasingly when you get out of your cabin, gaining a roll of your eyes in response.

“Stop it, you perverts.”

“Lookin’ like a snack”

That's Soonyoung, now placing an arm around your neck with a proud grin. You quirk a brow, looking up at his face.

“What does that even mean?”

“He means you look hot,” Chan says, butting in.

“Ew,” Joking, you push Soonyoung away. He looks at you confused, so you laugh. “Just kidding.”

“You are a mean woman.” He exclaims in his usual dramatism.

Seokmin then comes and puts his arm around Soonyoung.

“I’ll take him. He’s a bit drunk.” With a wink, he starts pulling Soonyoung away, as he mutters “I’m not drunk!”

Chuckling, your eyes search for Joshua, who’s distracted and enrolled in a conversation with Minghao and Wonwoo. Your smile slightly falters, because somehow, you wish he had complimented you, too.

Chan then walks to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. You look at him in confusion, and he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“So, how does it feel to be a noona?”

You snort.

“I’ve always been a noona to you.”

“You’re right. Didn’t know what to say, sorry.”

With another roll of your eyes, you push him away. The two of you laugh until you spot Jeonghan a moment later, and join him at one of the picnic tables.

Fresh steak is being grilled by Mingyu, music is being played by Vernon, and the rest are either drinking or sitting and having a chat. The two girls arrive not long after, shy at first but soon engaging easily in the conversation. You learn that they study online, Jihye is majoring in arts while Jangmi went into fashion design. Their parents have been renting cabins for years, and they plan to continue doing so when they are gone.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, you stand up from the picnic table to go for another beer, teeth clacking due to the freezing air. You get inside and grab an unopened can, switching it open and taking a swig. A grimace appears on your face at the cheap taste before turning around and going back outside.

You had planned to go back to the table, but your plans change when someone tugs at your wrist and stops you. You turn around and almost collide with Minghao’s figure. He grins.

“You look bored. Wanna dance?”

You smile.

“Sure.”

And that’s how it starts to get really fun, with the two of you dancing before at least another five of the boys join to dance along. It goes that way for a good part of the night, and admittedly, you don’t think you’ve had so much fun before.

These men’s antics are way too hilarious, as they keep clowning themselves without a care in the world despite the cold. That's when you decide it's time to go and grab Jihye and Jangmi by the hands, pulling them with you to join and dance, and they do, having fun when they feel comfortable enough.

You even see Joshua dancing along.

All of you dance until your limbs are exhausted, soon forcing you to excuse yourself. You grab another can of beer, this time deciding to take some fresh air on your own. Walking around until you find a nice spot on a little hill a few steps away, a bit quieter.

You sit on the grass, knees pushed up and arms hugging them to keep yourself warm. You have a nice view of the city illuminated with different colored lights, something unexpected since all you’ve seen so far is haze.

Taking another swig of your drink, you let the cold wind touch your face. Everything is peaceful and quiet at the moment. Except for your mind.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you see the time being three in the morning. No wonder you suddenly feel so raw and vulnerable.

Yearning that someone’s company so much is making your chest feel tight, and perhaps, your feelings aren’t just a simple crush at all.

A check on your social media shows the boys’ posts. There he is, with that beautiful smile of his that could light the whole town. Your heart flutters as you continue looking at his picture for who knows how long. A smile forms on your face, fingers grazing the shape of his face.

Then you hear someone’s footsteps approaching against the grass, eyes meeting with Jihoon’s right after. A subtle smile on his face when he sits right next to you.

“Hey, why aren’t you at your own party?”

You shrug.

“I just wanted to be alone for a while and think.”

Jihoon hums with a smile, looking ahead.

“Sounds dangerous.”

A small giggle leaves your lips. It's silent, only the breeze can be heard as you collect your thoughts.

“Jihoon,”

“Yeah?”

You crane your neck to look at him.

“Why do I always feel like I want to let my feelings out at this hour?

He thinks about it, leaning back against his palms.

“Well, you know what they say. Everyone turns into their most vulnerable self in the middle of the night. It’s often the time when I get the inspiration to compose.”

“I’m starting to understand what it truly means.” You confess with a nod. “It’s like I’m being overwhelmed with emotions, and I just wish I could lift them off my shoulders.”

Jihoon sits up straight and places his hand on yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze that you appreciate.

“If you feel the urge to let them out, maybe they don’t need to stay hidden.”

“But... It could have consequences.”

He retracts his hand and sighs.

“Yeah, but every decision has a result. Anything you do or say might lead to something, you can choose to find out what it is, or keep it bottled up and let it slowly consume you.”

You process his words carefully, smiling afterward.

“No wonder you’re so great at writing songs.”

“Had to find a productive way to let everything out.” He explains with a chuckle. “Wanna head back?”

“Yeah, I’ll reach you in a minute.”

Jihoon nods and stands up, walking back to where his friends are.

Grabbing your phone once again, fingers scroll through your contacts until you find his number and open the conversation.

There. Consider the possibilities. It’s the middle of the night. you know you can’t trust yourself at this hour, but somehow you’d rather get it off your chest now that you're feeling brave.

That’s it. You’ve opened the gates to let your feelings escape. You hope it’s really worth it.

You're still starting to feel the relief of lifting that weight off your shoulders, but also the uncertainty still managing to shoot a sprinkle of insecurity straight to your brain.

Locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket, you feel nauseous and your heart is heavy. You fucked up. You know you did.

Sighing, you rest your forehead against your forearms. Your eyes flutter shut as you desperately try to stabilize your breathing. The knot in your stomach becomes painful, your throat tight enough to make your airways feel constricted.

Then, it's time to stand up. You’re not really sure how you’re gonna face Joshua, or the rest of the boys, for that matter. Not now that you decided it was a good idea to confess your feelings through a text message.

However, you stop in your tracks the moment you see Joshua. The air is completely knocked out of your lungs as he silently approaches.

Locks of hair subtly blow in the wind, the moonlight makes his skin glow oh, so gracefully, and his pupils are surely putting the stars at shame. His lips are slightly agape, subtle clouds of fog escaping from his mouth, erratic breathing hinting how he must’ve hurried to come and find you.

It's an urge for you to say anything, but your brain can’t even formulate coherent sentences.

“Josh-”

An arm of his wraps around your waist, pulling you against him before his lips are enclosing yours in a kiss, interrupting whatever excuse you were planning on using.

Eyes flutter close instantly, hands clasping around his wrists. The kiss is soft, sweet, and too short for your liking. He barely pulls back, lips still inches away from yours, noses brushing when he says:

“I do like you.”

Joshua's thumb runs over your lower lip, staring down at you with half-lidded dark eyes. His smile appears right after, bright and contagious, a breathy chuckle falling from his mouth. You smile back, hands moving up to find purchase at the sides of his neck.

“Do you?”

Dumb question, but you can’t help but ask it.

“Yeah.” He promptly responds, pressing another chaste kiss against your mouth. “So much.”

“Lucky me.”

You're now the one who chuckles, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the way it feels to have his lips on yours. He's unsurprisingly a very skilled kisser. Knowing perfectly well how to move his lips slowly and delicious, the liplock accompanied by soft nips, sucks, and rhythmic movements against the other’s mouth. He tilts his head and pulls you further against his mouth, hands cupping your jaw. Your head spins in pure ecstasy.

The kiss breaks slowly, still in a daze when you detail the way his lips have turned red and swollen. His thumbs gently rub the skin of your cheeks, and it feels like you're about to vomit a whole zoo. He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body and embracing you tightly.

You bury your face in his chest and breathe him in. You embrace all of him and his sweet scent, letting your eyes close and humming contently as your fingers curl on the fabric of his coat.

“How are we going to explain this?”

“We don’t need to.” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Seems everyone knew what was going on, except me.”

That certainly makes you laugh, cause you've been way too obvious all along.

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Tell me about it.” He agrees, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Wanna go back?”

He extends his hand palm up. You look down at it before intertwining your fingers, a smile on your face.

As soon as you arrive, the teasing begins.

“Took you both long enough!”

Seems like you ended up being the center of attention for a very different reason. Your cheeks burn as Joshua releases your hand and grabs your wrist instead, moving you to stand next to him, then placing his arm around your waist.

He's the one who decides to retort first.

“Yeah yeah, drop it already.”

“I was almost going to confess in her name at this point.” Jeonghan jokes, approaching the two of you.

“Still bitter you didn’t tell me shit,” Joshua confesses, your best friend shakes his hand and gives him a quick, brotherly hug.

“I could’ve, but she would’ve whined about it for years.”

A glare shoots in his direction straight from your eyes, smacking his chest, which makes him laugh.

“Who would’ve thought you can actually keep a secret?”

“Don’t test your luck, I still know plenty of things your new boyfriend would love to know.”

Joshua looks at you with a quirked brow, but you’re quick to grab his hand and start pulling him away.

“Anyway who wants to dance?!”

Joshua looks between you and Jeonghan, who's being left behind. He's clearly intrigued by the situation but follows you nonetheless.

You’ll remember to invite Jihoon to grab some food later.

It's way past five when you're in your bed staring at the ceiling. Everyone must be either passed out somewhere or getting ready for bed since the sun will be rising soon.

There’s only one thing on your mind now that you’re back in your room.

You grab your phone and unlock it, looking for the conversation you started a few hours ago. Fingers typing almost on autopilot, hoping he’s still awake.

Excitement fills your body when you place your phone back on the nightstand. It doesn’t take long until you hear a soft knock on the door.

“Come in!”

You soon see his face, his hand running through his slightly messy hair. Wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top that lets you admire his bare, toned biceps. Teeth sinking in your lip in anticipation, no one could ever look this good.

Scooting, you make room for him on your bed, lifting the covers so he can slide in. As soon as he does, you’re both face to face. It's so charming that even in his tired state, he smiles and places a soft kiss on your lips.

Burying your face in his neck and playing with the hairs at the back of his head, he hums, letting you know he appreciates the gesture before his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you even more into his.

“Hmm, you smell nice.” You admit, a breathy chuckle escaping from his mouth and making his chest vibrate against you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The sudden pet name sends a wave of sparks through your body, not to mention the arousal of knowing he’s using a pet name just for you.

“I could get used to you calling me nice things.”

Joshua pulls back to look into your eyes once again, a light smirk now forming on his lips.

“Yeah?”

Big hand lifts and runs its fingers through your hair.

“Yeah.”

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, but his eyes never leave yours. Smile slowly vanishing the more the tension in the room arises. His soft touches start to become bold, with a hand running from your neck to your shoulder, and from your shoulder down your arm.

“Your skin is so warm, so soft.” It's a mumble, barely audible, as his hand moves from your arm to your waist, gently pushing up the hem of your shirt and letting his hand travel through your curves.

His touch makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“I like it when you touch me.”

“Hmm. You shouldn’t say that to me.” He whispers, mouth ghosting over yours as his hand travels upwards, finding your ribs. “I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Then don’t.”

His gaze darkens at your words, glued to yours in the barely illuminated room. Your body is now craving him, yearning for his touch after dreaming about him for so long.

Joshua then makes the next move, propping on his elbow, his upper half hovering over you.

You look up at him when his hand comes in contact with your cheek. His beauty is immaculate under the moonlight peeking through the windows. There's so much want being shared. The sight of him on you is so alluring it’ll be engraved in your memory for the rest of your life.

The necklace hanging from his neck looks so tempting, makes you want to curl your fingers around it just to pull him in and succumb to your true desires.

“Then remember that you asked for it.” He speaks again. “I’m going to worship every inch of your skin and kiss at every corner the way I want, give you whatever you wish while making you mine.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He drags his fingers down your skin, eyes shifting from yours to down your lips.

“Fuck.”

Before anything else can be said, he leans in and kisses you. His kiss once again takes over all your senses. So slow, open-mouthed, and passionate. Your hands fly to the back of his head to tangle in his soft locks, kissing him in a way he could feel how much you’ve wanted to have him.

His thigh spreads your legs to position himself between them more comfortably. His big hands roam down your neck, shoulders, and waist, making sure that his fingers dance along every single inch of your skin, setting it aflame.

You nip at his lip, tugging gently and making him groan. The tip of your tongue teases the area before he lets his own dive into your mouth to press, roll, and play.

Both can feel the arousal pooling in your underwear, the heat and the need are unbearable. You're clenching around nothing, an effect only his kiss has caused. Pathetic, but real.

Joshua's mouth starts traveling from the corner of your lips, to your jaw and down your neck. You bite your lip again, trying not to whimper and melt into a piddle. Tilting your head back to give him more access, the heaviness in your breath is enough to agitate him, and soon you feel the hard tent in his sweatpants pressing against your thigh.

A lift of your hips and a slight grind are enough to make him curse under his breath as his fingers claw onto your waist.

“Fuck.” He grunts before his tongue gently laps at the exposed column of your neck. You scrap at his scalp, tugging on his hair before grinding on him again. His kiss travels upwards, finding your ear and nibbling on the lobe, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He whispers, voice hoarse and lust-filled.

“Please, Joshua.” You can't help but beg, beg for him to give you more, pressing yourself against him as much as possible. “I need you.”

“I got you, baby. Let’s take your clothes off, yeah?”

He pulls back and slides his fingers under your shirt, lifting it and pulling it over your head before throwing it somewhere in the room.

His eyes get even more hooded at the sight of your bare breasts, pupils dilating as his hands start running down your bare torso, slowly, smoothly, the touch burning your skin. His palms enclose your chest, kneading gently, his thumbs run over the perked nipples, rolling them between his digits. You moan at the action, hands clasping around his biceps and nails clawing on his skin. He bites his lip as he watches every reaction of yours, finally lowering his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

A whimper falls from your mouth the moment his tongue starts playing with your sensitive buds. He looks up, not wanting to miss any expression of yours as he continues to suck, lick, and suck again.

“Fuck, Shua, that feels so good.”

He hums, moving to the neglected breast and repeating the process. His free hand runs down your stomach, sliding under the waistband of your panties. Long middle finger soon sliding between your folds, pressing on the wet button and making you choke on a moan.

“So wet. I’ve barely touched you, baby.” He teases, pulling away from your nipple and smirking at you. His fingers start rubbing up and down, face hovering over yours, staring intently. He pushes two of his fingers into your hole, and your back arches against his chest.

His lips keep that smirk on, nodding at you while you moan. “That’s it. Feels good, yeah?”

You bite your lip and manage to nod.

Joshua starts pumping his fingers faster, moving his body from over you to get rid of your pants and your panties by dragging them down your legs. All of this without stopping with his ministrations.

There you are, in all your naked glory in front of him, so exposed and vulnerable, but not feeling scared because the way he looks at you is enough to make you feel so wanted.

“So pretty, all for me.” He leans down and grazes his lips against the skin of your tummy. Curling up his fingers, he grazes the perfect spot that makes you moan even louder. Eyes fixated on you with a quirked brow, followed by a breathy laugh. “If you keep being so loud, everyone’s gonna know how good you are at taking fingers, huh?”

You're really trying here, but you can't keep quiet. His teasing words only turn you on even more and make you clench around his digits, feeling your climax approaching at a rapid speed.

“Sorry.” You croak. “It feels so good.”

“I can tell, you’re clenching tightly. How are you going to take my cock?”

He seems to love teasing, as he places kisses on your thighs. Who would've thought? He's apparently not the same gentleman in bed, and you love it.

“I can do it. I will do it.”

Joshua stares at you with both pride and amusement. It’s almost enough to hide the fact that his dick is hard as a rock, but since he’s not trying to hide it, you promptly watch as his free hand moves to palm himself over his clothes.

“Then come for me, so we can make it happen.”

You should probably be more obedient, but you're so desperate you move your hands to the hem of his shirt to lift it up slightly and he quickly takes it off with a chuckle. The sight is hypnotizing, muscles divinely built for your hands to touch, smooth skin screaming to be kissed, and your mouth is watering.

Extending your hand, you run it over his torso, fingers dancing across his abs and chest as he sits on his ankles. The tight knot on your stomach soon releases with the sight of the naked man in front of you, and you reach your climax with chants of his name. Your back arching, legs shaking.

“That’s it. Such a good girl.” He praises, helping you ride out of your peak.

While you try to catch your breath, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his lips to lick them clean. You almost whimper again, 'cause how can someone like him, so sweet and gentlemanly, be so dirty and hot.

Your hands fly to the back of his neck and pull him into a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hands run down the soft skin of his back.

He breaks the kiss to look at you, panting, clearly way too aroused to keep holding back, so he pulls back and gets rid of his pants and boxers. There you see him, standing free and hard, pink at the head and leaking with arousal. You can’t hold back the wish to touch him, hand flying to wrap around his shaft to pump his length.

He lets out the prettiest moan you could’ve heard, which impulses you to apply more pressure on his shaft. Sitting up, your lips wrap around the head of his cock, gentle sucks and twirls of your tongue sending him into a frenzy. You tug up and down, pointed tongue running over the leaking slit, the salty precum filling your tastebuds.

Joshua looks down at you, ragged breath as he places his gentle hand on the back of your head. You lick a stripe of his length from the base to the head, looking up at him and pressing your thighs together in search of some relief when you witness the blissful expression on his face. Pushing his length further down your throat, you almost choke in hopes to hear more of his luscious sounds.

He's quick to pull you away from him, and you frown. He kisses your lips, licking on your tongue and making you moan against his mouth before he pulls back.

"Love that you're so eager to suck my cock, baby, but if I let you continue, I won't last."

What a filthy fucking mouth he has.

“Fuck, Shua. Please baby, please take me already.”

Joshua bites his already swollen lip, moving your hand away from his length to wrap it in his own and place it at your entrance.

“You ready?”

He starts slowly pushing himself into you as soon as you nod. The tightness of your clamping walls makes him choke a moan of his own, as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You take advantage of the moment to start placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulder.

Soon he starts to move his hips, making your head spin with the rhythm of his thrusts. You cling onto his body, wrapping your legs around his waist to press him further into you as soon as he bottoms out. Joshua supports his body with one of his arms beside your head, the free one holding onto your waist as his pace starts quickening.

“Shit, so tight.” He moans, snapping his hips against yours and hitting all the right spots. Truthfully, you could cream again by just hearing the sounds he's making. “You were made for me, to take my cock.” He adds, jaw tightening as he moves his hand to interlace his fingers with yours.

“So good, so big.” You cry out. “I’ve belonged to you since the day I saw you.”

He's leaning down after a breathy curse, kissing you again, a bit sloppier, tongues playing as his hips continue speeding up.

You hope in the back of your mind that no one can hear the sounds of skin slapping against skin, however, you’re far too gone to really care.

“If I had known sooner…” He grunts, hand sliding down to find your clit to rub on it with the pads of his fingers. You scratch his back as he continues. “All this time pining over you but thinking you were not really interested.” He confesses, a particular thrust of his hips making you cry out again. “I deserve all the teasing.”

“Fuck, Joshua, I’m so close.” It's a whole trail of whimpers and moans that you let out between each sentence, pressing his sweaty body against yours. “Been harboring these feelings for so long, Joshua, fuck.”

You’re soon grabbed by the waist and flipped over to straddle him. His head against the headrest and hands on your hips.

“Ride me like that. Shit.” He orders in between moans, biting his lip as his hand roams up and down your back. “I wanna be in so deep.”

You roll your hips, bouncing every now and then as your hands find leverage on his strong and broad shoulders.

"Oh my fucking God.”

“Cum baby, and milk me dry. Show me how much you mean it.” He demands through gritted teeth, rubbing again on your clit. “How much you’ve wanted me all this time.”

And as if it was a magic spell, you come undone around him, legs shaking and back arching. You bite your lip so hard it draws blood, but you don’t care.

Your walls clench around him hard enough for him to cum right after you with a throaty groan. His hot seed spills inside you in thick spurts, painting your walls white. A few more sloppy thrusts and you’re soon collapsing onto his clammy chest. His heart is racing, but so is yours.

Joshua's strong arms wrap around you, soft caresses on your back as you remain connected for a while.

When the two of you manage to regain your composure, he pulls out of you and helps you lay on your back, turning around to look into your eyes. He looks at you silently, full of adoration at your flushed face.

"What is it?"

He shakes his head, smile remaining on his face.

"Just admiring."

A light snort escapes from you, not an offensive one, and he knows. He's well aware of your shyness, of the pink on your cheeks.

"Admiring? Me?" You chuckle, but admittedly flattered. "Have you seen yourself?"

His perfectly shaped brow quirks at that, before he quickly glances down at himself.

"Yes. You. Actually, I see myself every day in the mirror."

Clicking your tongue, you turn to your side, meeting his gaze.

"I mean..." You trail off. "I know to you it's nothing, but like, you're so so good looking. Like, incredibly so. And I'm not saying this because you're now my boyfriend or because I'm biased, I just genuinely think that if there was a human form for perfection, it'll look like-"

"I love you."

You stop ranting, looking up at him. He's just smiling, and you don't think someone has ever looked at you this way. With so much love.

"What?"

He chuckles, big hands moving to cup your cheeks.

"I said I love you."

You could cry. You think you might, and perhaps, you're actually tearing up, but it's well hidden by the grin on your face, same grin he starts kissing right after.

"I love you, too." You finally say in between kisses.

Once the kiss breaks, It's hard for you to keep your eyes open, but you try your best to look at his post-climax glory.

“That was intense, by the way. And the four letter word at the end? The cherry on top.”

Joshua smiles, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Just wait until we wake up in a couple of hours.”

Cheeks heating up instantly, you start laughing.

He leans down and kisses you one more time, much more slowly, then pulls back, placing a small peck on your forehead, then standing up from the bed.

You watch as he puts his sweats and boxers back on. Wrapping the sheets around your body as he goes to the bathroom and comes back with a towel. He doesn’t need to turn the lights on, considering that the sun is already up. He smiles at you and gently cleans you up, sharing a few kisses before he helps you dress again. A protest is what he receives, too tired to move, however, he just chuckles.

“Come on, love. It’s freezing cold. Let me dress you up so we can sleep, yeah?”

With a groan, you end up sitting up and letting him help you. Soon after that, you’re both falling asleep together on your bed.

“Okay, this was definitely a memorable experience.” Seokmin says, as everyone gets the luggage into the vans.

“It was fun!” Soonyoung agrees, placing his arm around Vernon’s shoulder.

“Well, except for Joshua hyung giving it to our favorite girl til early in the fucking morning.”

You smack Seungkwan across the head and he rubs the sore spot.

“Shut the fuck up. You heard nothing.”

“At least someone was getting laid,” Mingyu adds.

“Are we ready to leave? I really don’t feel like discussing someone’s sexual escapades this early in the morning.”

Of course, it'll be the dad of the group cutting the shit out.

You bid the two girls goodbye, promising to keep in contact and visit soon. thanking them for everything they did.

When everyone’s already inside their vans, you wave at the girls and go back to your seat. Fastening your seatbelt, you look at Jeonghan, who looks back at you with a smirk.

When he least expects it, you place a smooch on his cheek.

Taken aback, his hand moves to touch the place where the kiss landed.

“What was that for?”

You just shrug. “You’re my best friend and I love you.”

Jeonghan can only roll his eyes.

“I was going to tease you for getting some, but that was actually sweet.”

You respond with a chuckle, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers together.

“Of course you would, bestie.”

You soon meet eyes with Joshua, who smiles before grabbing your other hand and interlacing your fingers, bringing it to his lips and kissing on the back of it.

Then, Jeonghan suddenly grabs your face and places a loud smooch on your cheek, making you gasp and laugh out loud, disbelief written on your face.

“Just to remind Joshua he has to share. Don’t expect this gesture to happen very often, though.”

You laugh and rest your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, still holding both of your favorite boys’ hands.

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gojos-thot-patrol · 7 months

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Please please please please please I actually beg, I need a fluff where Sukuna is cuddling with you, his head on your chest while he tells you about… I don’t know, how this is because he doesn’t love you and you’re only good for being a pillow, knowing that is not the case. (Also HIII I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR CONTENT!!! Thank you very much for reading this and I hope you have a lovely day, whether you choose to respond or not :D 💞💞💞💞💞💞)

I DROPPED EVERYTHING TO WRITE THIS ITS TOO FUCKIN CUTE AH-

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Starring: A battle weary Sukuna

You were never really sure what to do with your nights when Ryomen was away. Normally, you would spend the twilight hours in his room, in his arms, and in his sheets, curled into his side afterwards and falling asleep to the sounds of his heartbeat slowing down. But, that was out of the question tonight, just as it had been for the last week. He was off conquering something somewhere- you honestly didn’t really care. You just wanted your man- your lord back. Luckily, he was due back tomorrow evening.

Without having many other options, you found yourself curled up on your bed with a book from the palace library. Not a bad way to spend an evening per say, just a lonely one. Ryomen was never a huge fan of cuddling unless it was after he was inside of you- and even then he was more on the take it or leave it side of things. But, his presence was still always appreciated, and on cold nights like these you desperately wanted him home to warm your bed.

You wondered what the fuck was in your tea when you saw him standing in your door way, convinced you were hallucinating. “My lord?” You asked, taking in his battle weary from. “You’re home?”

“Clearly.” He grumbled, death shambling over to your bed and collapsing on it. Admittedly, you were a little put off by it- the metallic smell of blood still clinging to his skin, as if he left the battlefield and went straight to your arms. You didn’t have a lot of time to realize how true that statement was before his arms were wrapped around you, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could and resting his head at the crown of your breast. It almost scared you just how needy he was being.

“You’re home early…” You pointed out, only for him to roll all four of his eyes at you.

“Refer to my previous statement.”

“I’m asking why my lord.” His jaw ticked at your words. He’d killed nobles for less,what made you think you could take that tone with him? He should cut your disrespectful tongue out for even considering to question him.

“We were able to slaughter their forces faster than we expected. None of them were higher than grade two.” He explained, closing his eyes to try and relax.

“Oh, that’s great! Another successful battle.” You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. You swore you heard him purr.

“Yeah.” No. No it absolutely was not. Yeah, none of those foot soldiers were higher than a grade two, but that didn’t matter when there was so fucking many of them. A hoard of roaches could kill a snake given the right numbers, and Sukunas entire force was out numbered, for every one soldier he had that asshole had over a hundred grunts.

It got bleak. Bleak to the point where Sukuna had to really consider the fact he might not be going home. That he might die at the hands of fucking novices of all things. That he might not ever be able to hold you again, to kiss you, to see you. And he didn’t even say a proper goodbye before leaving. For the first time in Ryomen Sukuna’s existence, he was terrified. It wasn’t the first time he had been at deaths door, he was actually a frequent visitor. But this was the first time he made the trip when he had something to live for.

So he pushed through. Unleashed a fourth domain expansion even after the second one took everything he had left out of him, fought harder than he had before, and even felt a black flash. At some point, the enemies stopped flooding in, and it was just him and was was left of his army in the war zone. Yeah, he won, but he would never consider that a successful battle.

You didn’t need to know that though. All you needed to know was he was home. He watched you read your book, content for what felt like the first time ever as you played absentmindedly with his hair. Moments like these were the ones he dreaded losing the most. Soft moments, where he could actually let his guard down and be at peace, even if it was only for a few seconds. He sighed softly, closing his eyes and snuggling closer to you.

“I missed you too, my lord.” You smiled gently at him. His eyes snapped open. You just had to speak, didn’t you?

“I didn’t miss you.” He scoffed in disgust, but still couldn’t find it in him to move, “Know your place whore.” The “whore” was so half-hearted it was laughable. Normally he was able to put some venom in it, but he was feeling particularly de-fanged right now.

“Oh of course. That’s why you're clinging to me like this, because you absolutely did not miss me, right? You don’t love me at all.” You teased him.

“I do not.” He snapped, lifting his head up to properly look you in your eyes so you knew you were on thin fucking ice. “You think this is because I love you? Do you think the sky is red too? You’re comfortable wench, that’s all this is. You’re no more valuable to me than a pillow, or a chair. Love is an entirely human emotion, don’t project it onto me.” He lashed out, before dropping his head back on your chest with a limp thud. “You’ll to well to watch your tongue slut, before I cut it out.” He grumbled, managing to find some venom there this time.

“I’m sorry my lord.” You sighed, returning to your book. A soft, self satisfied smirk did find its way to your lips when you felt him put your hand back in his hair, prompting you to continue playing there.

“Mmm.” He grumbled. Truth be told, Love was a human emotion. Most curses would never feel anything even adjacent to it in their lifetime. But no matter how much he tried to deny it, Sukuna was human once. Mortal blood once flowed though his veins, and a human heart still pounded in his chest. A human heart you held in soft hands, gently protecting without even knowing. You’d never know how hard he fought just to be by your side tonight, not if he could help it.

You turned off the bedside lamp, settling into bed with him. He gently kissed your forehead, a soft action that was forced to go unnoticed, least he have to make good on any of his threats. Or worse, admit he was a fool in love.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #soft sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff

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absurdthirst · 7 months

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Kinktober 2023: October 15th

Day 15: Boot Worship, Spanking/Flogging/Whipping/Caning, Lactation/Breastfeeding

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Post-pregnancy, lactating, pumping, breastfeeding kink, paying to drink breast milk, drinking milk, breast play, grinding, frottage, cumming in pants

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

There are some perks to being Dieter Bravo’s assistant. As crazy as he can be and put you through stress and odd situations, he is a fairly lenient boss. When you had come to him, explaining that you wished to be a surrogate for your sister who was unable to carry a child, he was cool with it.

Did it stop the 2AM calls because he couldn’t find his favored crocs, or didn’t remember the name of that 24-hr Mexican restaurant? No. But he let you take off for all the doctor’s appointments without too much complaint, stopped doing drugs around you since it was bad for the baby, and insisted that you have a chair on set next to his to sit down in at all times. In actuality, it was pretty sweet.

You had planned on coming back to work right away, since the baby was immediately going to your sister from the delivery room, but Dieter had pitched a fit. Telling you that even though you didn’t have a newborn to take care of, you still needed to recover from giving birth. You had compromised, telling him that you could recover and still manage his calendar from his admittedly comfortable couch.

You hadn’t expected the questions. Dieter is one of those enigmatic souls that there is no telling what will pique his curiosity, but you hadn’t expected it to be your breast pump. Your sister and you decided that you would pump your milk for at least the first few months, or as long as you could.

Dieter was obsessed. Like a kid with a new toy, you found him playing with the pumps. There were two that you could wear inside your nursing bra to let you pump while you just went about your day. Removing them and draining them into the storage bags as needed and putting them right back on.

He was staring at your breasts, frowning slightly as he looked away and then looked back at them. As if he was figuring something out. Until you realized he was trying to decide if you had the pumps on or not. He kept muttering to himself, shaking his head and walking out of the room abruptly. You would think that he was on drugs again, except you haven’t ordered any from his regular supplier in nearly two months.

So it’s a complete surprise when you are sitting on the couch, nearly two months after you have given birth and settled back into your routines with Dieter that he plops down on the sofa beside you. “How much would I need to pay you to drink your milk?”

Freezing, your jaw hits the ground in shock. Immediately flustered and wondering what the hell is he talking about. Drinking your milk? He wants to taste it? Pour it into his cereal? What?

“Dee, what? What the fuck are you-”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He groans, shuffling closer and staring at you with wide, pleading eyes before his gaze drops down to your breasts and he groans. His hand moves down to his crotch, almost covering himself like he’s trying to hide something before he grabs a pillow and shoves it in his lap. “Please, I - fuck, I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Give me….two ounces.”

“Dieter…”

“Two, all I’m asking for is two. The baby can spare that, right? You’ve been pumping like 80 ounces a day, right? Around that?” His tone is slightly whiny, begging like he always does when he really, really wants something.

It shocks you that he’s aware of how many ounces of breastmilk you are pumping. That means that he’s got to be looking in the freezer. You’ve been storing it here since you are here more than your own house and having it sent over to your sister’s.

“You want to buy two ounces of my breast milk to drink?” You ask, wanting to make sure you understand what the fuck your boss is asking you. “For a thousand dollars.”

“Two, two thousand.” Dieter ups the price, biting his lip and swallowing harshly. “A thousand dollars an ounce. Please, I know it’s weird, I know that I shouldn’t ask, but please, please just let me have some.”

His eyes are earnest, begging you. Almost more intense than the first time he has if you would have sex with him. Finally finding something he wants more than sex.

“I don’t know…”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He rushes out, his face twisted in embarrassment but Dieter has no shame when there is something that he wants. He’s willing to humiliate himself as long as self-gratification for whatever he is obsessing over happens. “Drinking it, sipping it. Swallowing it down. Knowing that it is supposed to feed me. Feed a baby, I mean. It’s natural. The most natural food a man can have.” He justifies it, always good at finding reasons for why he needs to have what he wants. “It fucking- fuck, baby, it fucking turns me on. The idea of drinking your milk.”

You can tell he wasn’t supposed to say that. From the way he immediately snaps his mouth shut and recoils from you, like you are going to reach out and slap him. Maybe you should slap him. It’s a slappable offense, but you aren’t.

“Two thousand dollars, for a chance to drink two ounces of milk?” You don’t dismiss the idea, or slap him and that makes Dieter perk up. Immediately nodding, making his disheveled hair wave eagerly.

“Yeah. Please?” He begs again. “I promise I won’t ask you to sleep with me again or go get my coffee. Ohhhh your milk in coffee.” You watch as he rolls his eyes back in his head at the thought, the pillow being crammed against his lap even more and you huff.

“How many times have you jerked off thinking about drinking my milk, Dee?” You demand, making your boss nearly cringe at the question.

Ducking his head and turning a range of mottled reds in mortification, he mumbles too quietly for you to hear. “- times a day.”

“What?”

He mumbles again. “-day.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“Seven or eight times a day!” Dieter finally shouts, grabbing the pillow from his lap and shoving it over his face to scream into it while your brows shoot up in surprise. You know Dieter has a high sex drive, but you never imagined he could go that many times.

While he is having his fit, you think about it for a moment. It’s two thousand dollars and you’d rather your boss ask you to drink your milk than some random pregnant lady on the street. You wouldn’t put it past him. Despite his tendencies, Dieter is actually pretty respectful. He doesn’t push when he’s rejected and if you say no, you know that he will be disappointed but he won’t get angry.

You aren’t wearing the pumps, thank goodness, so it’s easy to manage when you pull away the pillow from your boss's face and straddle his thighs, putting your milk filled tits in his face.

“I- what are you-” Dieter chokes out, eyes wide and fixed on the tops of your tits, wanting to touch you but this wasn’t what he asked for.

“You don’t want to drink straight from the source?” You ask innocently.

The fact that you are on his lap makes you fully aware that Dieter’s cock is hard. Letting you feel the way that it jumps when you ask if he wants to drink from you. Not hiding his love of the idea even a little bit.

He groans, tearing his eyes away from your breasts to look up into your eyes. “Yeah? Really?” He asks, still not touching you, but his hands are hovering over your hips, wanting to settle on them. “I- you would let me do that?”

“You can’t squeeze them.” You caution. “They are tender, and sore a lot of the time. But if you want to, you can nurse, suck the milk from my tits and drink it down.” It was good timing, because you were going to have to pump anyway.

“But I-” He seems to be completely stumped as to why you would offer more. No one ever offers more when he is desperate enough to pay for what he wants. “I’ll be careful.” He promises, leaning forward to nuzzle into your bosom and inhale the slightly milky scent of your skin.

You feel the way he twitched under you. That admittedly impressive cock throbbing against your core in a way that you hadn’t thought about before this moment. He’s hard because of you. Because of this infatuation with your tits, your milk.

Those hands that you had worried would be carelessly eager are almost timid. Asking if he can take off your shirt, or if you would prefer to just lower your shirt. You explain that it feels better to just lower your shirt and he quickly agrees. His fingers almost worshipful as he gently pulls your breasts out, taking your warning to heart as he positions them in his face and gets his first good look at your hard nipples and burgeoning jugs.

“Oh god. I just want to…” he lunges forward and snuggles his face between the breasts he is holding almost reverently. Nearly motorboating you but just breathing deep. “Fuuuuuuuck.” He hisses, throbbing even more underneath you and you swear that you feel a bit of wetness transfer from his sweats to your leggings.

You wrap your arms around him, for stability, for a lack of places to hold onto him, bringing him closer and you feel him sigh into your skin. As if he has found a place he wants to stay.

It’s not too long before he wants more. His lips move along your skin in a surprisingly romantic scattering of kisses, as if you were his lover.

His arms slowly slide around you as he kisses around your nipple, tilting his head down, and he groans when the warm, wetness of his lips wrap around a hard nipple to pull it into his mouth.

Dieter’s hips rock up, grinding up into yoh and he twitches harshly when he tugs on the nipple, letting the first spurt of milk hit his tongue. His groan is so loud, almost pained, it covers the gasp that you give at the sensation.

It’s so different from the pump. Warmer, wetter. More intense as he starts to suckle eagerly. Gulping down mouthfuls of milk as fast as he can while dragging you closer, making you grind down on his cock from the movement.

You get lost in the feeling of it all. His cock hard and throbbing under you. Pressing against your sensitive clit as your hips rock. The subtly erotic sensation of his whiskers against your skin. Eagerly letting him switch from breast to breast as he drinks you down.

Dieter drinks more than two ounces, far more than you had agreed on, but neither one of you pulls away, even trying to stop. He’s gorging himself on the warm, slightly sweet milk in great, greedy gulps, groaning as he swallows.

You don’t realize you are about to cum until you do. Stiffening in his arms, you push your breast into his mouth more as your back arches, a harsh cry escaping your lips. Pleasure washing over you in waves, and you don’t realize that Dieter is moaning your name. Rocking his hips up harshly to keep the friction going until he’s throbbing against your core. The warmth of his cum coating the inside of his sweats as he cums in his pants, drunk off your breast milk.

“Holy shit.” You pant as he pulls away, milk drunk and softening underneath you as he swallows one last time.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo imagine

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blue-slxt · 10 months

Text

One Hammock

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: A quick little one shot piece while I'm working on my next series. All characters are aged up.

Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Explicit smut, Thigh play? (is that what it's called?), One bed trope, Mentions of breeding, I think that's it

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You're spending the night at with the Sully family, but Lo'ak's snoring is keeping you from getting a good night's sleep.

You lie awake on the ground of the Sully’s hut. It wasn’t unusual for you stay the night there. Your families were close friends so you would spend many nights with them. Most nights were easy to sleep through. Tonight is a whole different story, though. Lo’ak is snoring particularly loud tonight and somehow you are the only one that can’t sleep because of it. Even Tuk is sound asleep cuddled up to Kiri on her hammock.

You finally decide you’ve had enough and make your way towards Neteyam’s hammock. He was always a welcome distraction on nights you couldn’t sleep. You carefully stalk your way over to Neteyam and gently shake his shoulder. “Neteyam” you whisper. His eyes flutter open at your touch. “What is it?” he asks groggily. “Nothing. Lo’ak is snoring so loud, I can’t sleep. Can I lay with you?” You and Neteyam would share a hammock all the time before when you were kids. Admittedly, it didn’t happen as often once the two of you started maturing. Your breasts got fuller, your hips got wider, and your thighs got more plump. Meanwhile, Neteyam was a tower of lean, strong muscles.

Neteyam takes a second to process your question due to still being half asleep. He thinks about it for a moment before remembering that he’s completely undressed under his sheet. “I don’t really know.” He tries to answer you. You’re already shuffling your way into his hammock. “I promise you won’t even realize I’m here.”

You lay on your side trying to take up as little space as you can. You can feel something poking your tail and it’s making it difficult for you to get comfortable. “Neteyam, are you poking me?” you ask him confused. “I-I, well, um, you see…” his words stumble out of his mouth in a stuttering mess. You reach behind you to grab whatever is poking you so you can move it and your hand is met with the sensation of skin. It’s hot and slippery for some reason. Neteyam sucks in a sharp breath when you make contact. Realization washes over you and you and you snatch your hand away, “Oh…oh, Eywa, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I mean like I didn’t mean to…” Now it was your turn to be a stuttering mess. Both of your faces burned with embarrassment.

What does this mean? Was this because of you? Was he already like that in his sleep? Your head is buzzing with questions begging for answers. Especially why your own heart was trying to escape your ribcage.

Neteyam silently prays to Eywa to just take him to the afterlife right then and there. He actually felt like he could die of embarrassment. He was hoping that you didn’t think any less of him because of this. He could handle many things, but hurting your image of him was something he didn’t think he could bear. He tries to back up so that his tip isn’t poking you, but the hammock is too tight of a space and his length is too much.

You both lie in complete silence, neither one of you moving an inch. You weren’t sure what to think or what to do. You swallow hard and squeak out, “You okay?” He feels like he should be the one asking you that.

“Yea, I’m fine. Sorry about…that.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry.” You had never really thought about the fact that something like this could ever happen. When you think about it, guess it made sense why you guys didn’t share a hammock as often anymore.

“Is it…uncomfortable?” you ask. You’re not sure what your point is in asking, but you did anyways. His breathing picks up ever so slightly, “A little bit, but I am fine.”

The thought of him being aroused right behind you makes you feel…something. You scoot backwards into him feeling more of his length rub against your butt. Neteyam shudders behind you, “W-what are you doing?”

“W-well I figured if it is uncomfortable, I could help you.” You turn your face just enough to see his face out of the corner of your eye. “Unless, you do not want me to.” You start to inch back forward away from him, but Neteyam’s hands find your hips and hold you back against him. It surprised you. The Neteyam you knew was never so bold or aggressive. It made a heat settle in your core.

“I would, um, appreciate some help.” He says holding on you.

You admit to yourself that even though this was your idea to offer this, you were more than a little nervous at what you decided to do next.

Neteyam watches your silhouette in the dark. He watches as you let a long string of saliva fall from your lips to your hand. You reach behind you to take ahold of him and stroke your hand up and down his length. His breathing hitches and he hopes that if this is a dream, he doesn’t wake up.

Once you feel like you’ve lubricated him well enough, you lift your leg and place him between your thighs and set your leg back down. Now Neteyam knew this wasn’t a dream, it was surely a blissful, pleasure-filled afterlife. “Y-you can move, if you want to.”

Neteyam’s eyes were wide with surprise and excitement. He hesitantly slides his hips forward and back. The pressure of your thighs wrapped around him just right and the wetness of your spit made it easy for him to slip between them. Low moans escape his parted lips and the sounds he makes has your stomach doing flips. He picks up his pace and digs his fingers into the skin of your hips.

Neteyam thought to himself about how close he was to actually fucking you. If he angled himself just an inch higher, he would be inside of your walls. The thought made him want you more. He wanted to feel you clench around him and milk his seed deep into you. He thought about knotting you. Making sure you took every drop and bared his child. Neteyam wanted that more than anything. Filling your womb with his seed and then with his child. It drives him into a frenzy, full on smacking his hips into yours chasing his release pressed between your thighs.

“Fuuuck *thrust*…think I’m gonna *thrust*…Gonna cum *thrust*”.

You arch your back so that your back is against his chest and your face is next to his. You can feel his breath on your ear from his panting. You use your hand to hold his face and guide it into your neck. He breathes in your scent and lets it fill his head and cloud his mind. He pumps into your thighs with two hard thrusts before you feel his thick, hot seed spurt all over your legs and a little on your belly.

Neteyam rests his forehead on your shoulder breathing heavy and letting his mindless hands roam up and down your body. His fingers run over every crevice and hill on your body. It makes you tremble underneath him. He sighs in relief and you wait for his breathing to even back out.

After a few minutes, Neteyam calms himself and snaps out of the dream-like trance he felt like he was in. “Um, I should probably get you a cloth to clean up with” he offers. He crawls out of the hammock, quickly throws on a loincloth over himself and he brings you a wet cloth to clean off with. You wipe down your legs and stomach from the sticky mess left behind. Neteyam gets back in the hammock with you and he lays on his back. You turn to face him. You don’t say anything to each other, but your eyes say it all. He taps his chest signaling for you to rest with him. You hesitate for a second, but you scoot in and rest your head on his chest. The sound of his heart beat the only thing you can hear and you let it lull you to sleep.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #awow smut

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

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Hello beautiful people! First of all, thank you so much for this blog. Your work is amazing!

I'm looking for some fic suggestions, if you'd be so kind in answering. I loved Slow Show and Old Vines, so I wanted something similar, a long AU fic that has a lot of pinning and some angst, but has a happy ending. Thank you ❤

Hi! The fics you've mentioned are very popular in the fandom, so I'd recommend checking our #fandom favourites tag, as well as our #pining, #human au, and #long fic tags for more to enjoy. Here are more to add...

Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (T)

“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.

Keep it casual by Kiez21 (E)

Aziraphale has just been dumped by his boyfriend of thirteen years, right before turning thirty. While out with his friends, he meets a red-haired stranger that gives him one of the best nights of his life. Crowley's just moved into Tadfield looking for a fresh start. On his first night out, he invites a handsome stranger for a one night stand. It is just a one night stand, right?

The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (M)

When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.

It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine by Dervila, elf_on_the_shelf (E)

After Adam's parents die in a car crash, Aziraphale is forced to start taking care of him as more than just an uncle. Don't get him wrong, he loves the little devil, it's just that he is completely clueless and could rather use some help. In comes Crowley, Adam's new nursery school teacher with his amazing skills in dealing with kids. Could he be the answer to all of Aziraphale's prayers - Adam-related and otherwise? Well, it looks like he might be just that, judging by the weird things Aziraphale's heart seems to be doing whenever he sets eyes on the man. Now, if only the tall ginger returned his feelings...

For His Eyes Only by AFrenchFanWriter (M)

Anthony J. Crowley has been an MI6 spy for 10 years, completing successful mission after successful mission under the guidance of his quartermaster, Aziraphale Fell. But this life is starting to take its toll on him as he is getting older; and when, one day, his past comes back to haunt him, Crowley realizes that it might be time for him to hang up his gun and face all the things he has left unaddressed… (Yep, it is basically a James Bond/Q AU!)

Driving in the Dark by Sarah_hadeschild (E)

Aziraphale, a small town librarian with a troubled past, has resigned himself to the impossibility of love. That is, until he meets a rough-around-the-edges motorcycle mechanic who reads Mary Oliver. TW for mentions of a past abusive relationship.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #pining #long fic #mod d

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izukuwus · 10 months

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(they all have) so much meaning - Midoriya Izuku/Reader (18+)

Next (coming soon?) - M.list - Ao3

A/N: ok so despite the spiderweb thing I actually did most of the writing for this BEFORE I watched across the spiderverse and veered clear into my government-mandated spider-man phase. I kind of want the tattoo, though.

(why yes, I DO default to The Front Bottoms lyrics every time I can't think of a good title for a fic. it's bc I'm right.)

Summary: It's your third date with your long-standing no-longer-crush, and Izuku just found out that you had a tattoo. You let him take a long look.

Warnings: public sex, oral (reader receiving), afab reader, reader has a tattoo, exhibitionism

Notes: Reader has a tattoo and established quirk. Yes, they're a literal emotional vampire. I can only write so much without vampires getting involved.

Word Count: 3600+

Midoriya Izuku is a pretty boy with sharp teeth and a brilliant mind. He does not possess the mind for what one would call a normal conversation, really, but you knew that long before agreeing to the first date, let alone the second.

By the end of date three, you’re honestly proud of him. I mean, neither of you got through the date without stuttering, which is fucking ridiculous given how long you’ve known each other, but compared to the first date’s rocky start, you both did a fantastic job! You completed the date with minimal stuttering between the two of you, and thanks to your quirk, you’re confident in saying both of you feel a fond sadness as he drives you home. You could have taken the train—planned on it, actually—but he’d insisted, and who were you to not say yes, if only to bask in his presence a little longer?

“I didn’t know you had a car,” you confess. You’re sitting on your hands, self-conscious for a myriad of reasons, least of all because having sat on your hands has left you hyperaware of how much thigh is visible in this skirt. “Is it new?”

Stupid question. It’s obviously new, and nice, too. Admittedly, you don’t know shit about cars, but you do know enough to be able to tell when one is nice. It’s shiny, for one, with a sleek, vintage look and classic black paint, and you don’t have to be a genius to know that any car with a convertible top is probably not super cheap. The seats, too, are luxurious—a dark, soft leather that caresses your legs quite nicely.

The trouble with leather is, again, directly correlated with how much thigh is exposed by this skirt. Being July, the world is hot and sticky, which means miniskirts, which means issues around gross men, windy days, and leather fucking car seats.

“It is, actually!” He lets out a nervous laugh. It’s strange to see him driving, strange to see scarred hands confidently turning the wheel. Izuku had asked if you wanted the top down, since it was a hot day, and nice out, and—

You had agreed with a nervous bubble of laughter. The novelty of it was a good draw. You’d heard “top down” from pretty lips and agreed without a second thought.

The thing about Midoriya Izuku is that, for all the years you’ve been friends—since entering high school, really—you have danced around one another like this.

Nervous laughter, words flowing so easily that they slip right past your filter or otherwise don’t make it to your lips. Honestly, you don’t need him to tell you that he didn’t mean to ask you on the first date when he did—he had the same affliction, where things were said too easily and then followed by the cringe. Hindsight is always 20/20, which meant that the moment he'd asked to take you out to a movie and let the word "date" slip, he was immediately running damage control, and you'd let "I'd like a date, actually" slip before you really realized the ramifications of it. So you had gone home to panic and squeal, and he had gone home to panic and squeal, and now here you were, three dates down with the rising star of the hero world, a title you did not begrudge him.

“Since when did you need a car with that quirk?” you tease. Right now, it’s easy. The nerves of being with someone who wants you instead of just likes you don’t strangle your throat.

“Well, I could have just carried you home, but I think that might draw too much attention?” The thoughtful look in his eye slides away to something else as he casts a glance your way, maybe a bit lower, and his face burns red before you. “Not to mention, um, it might not be advisable, um…”

You got the message. You shift a little in your seat in hopes that it’ll give the fabric cause to slide down a little bit. “Y-yeah, uh, maybe not. I’ll have to wear shorts underneath next time!”

Another glance at your thigh before the light turns green. You try not to think about the little surge in his emotions pressing insistently at you. His cheeks seem impossibly redder, and he turns his eyes to the road, ever dedicated to safe driving practices. “I-if you want! You looked really nice tonight, though! I mean it!”

It’s mildly amusing, watching him flounder like this. If you had less shame, you might revel in seeing his face go full strawberry just to pay you a compliment, especially after having fought a few villains alongside him and having seen that version of Izuku in action. He’s borderline unrecognizable like this, making still-nervous conversation and trying not to stare at your legs as he drives you home.

The fluttery, nervous energy between you is, if nothing else, good fuel for your quirk, and you catch it in the air and stock it away until the pair of you reach your destination.

“Thanks again.” You flash him your best smile as he parks, and you’re unsurprised to see him move to open your car door. Such a gentleman. “For driving me home, I mean. I would have made it home fine, but…”

“It’s not a problem at all! I wanted to.” He opens your door, offers you a hand, and once again, you regret the skirt.

In your defense, the skirt had passed the date check. It covers your ass, covers your tattoo when standing, and was cute enough to justify wearing out of the house!

It does not, however, pass the car check, which is what you discover as a movement to unstick your thighs from the seat also has the hem riding up far enough to show off your tattoo. You know, the one you didn’t tell anyone you got. The one whose location you picked because (and I quote) “if anyone I’m not actively sleeping with sees it, we have bigger problems than their opinions on my tattoo”. That tattoo. That someone you are not actively sleeping with (not yet, anyway) just got an eyeful of. Most of, at least.

He’s practically babbling, avoiding eye contact as he apologizes and helps you out of the car. “I-I didn’t know you got a tattoo.”

“Oh, uh, yeah! I did! I lost a bet with Mina and had to get something done, so I thought I’d go for something cute.” You nearly babble the words, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Cute” is not the word you had used to describe the design when you’d come up with it, and the bet you lost was really just a pretense so you had an excuse to get the tattoo anyway, but, you know. It’s the little things as far as word choice is concerned.

You rub the back of your neck. “It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would, actually. And the artist did a great job with it!”

“I didn’t get to see it really well, but I’m sure they did a really good job!”

“I mean, I could show you,” you reply, and there it is. Once again, your words beat your brain to the punch.

“I’d like to, if you’re comfortable with it!”

And there’s his burst of nervous energy, which, to be fair, hasn’t gone down a bit since you met at the restaurant earlier this evening, only climbed. You’ve learned that when you feel that particular spike of energy arc off him, it’s him doing the exact “say things you mean but don’t mean to say” thing you do. Small comforts, you suppose.

“Sure,” you manage, and then you’re lifting the hem of your skirt to show him the tattoo in all its glory.

Its design is that of a garter wrapping around your thigh, delicate lace forming spider webs in the “band” of the tattoo. It’s pretty, it’s possibly a bite too sexy, and it’s perhaps a bit too far up your thigh to be showing off in any way anyone would consider modest. In the dark of your poorly-lit driveway, Izuku seems to find himself crouching and leaning in to be able to properly inspect your inked thigh, and you feel a little surge of something wave off of him.

It’s not until you let that particular energy feed you and compare it to your own feelings that you realize he’s turned on. Part of it might be the position—the fire racing through your veins at lifting your skirt up partway for a pretty face crouching in front of you is likely matched by being the pretty face crouching before your date’s lifted skirt. Just as quick as it came, it’s replaced by a hot flush of shame, an emotion you know well.

That one, you don’t need to guess the source of. Izuku’s spent countless hours talking to you about the intricacies of your quirk over the years, and by now he’s more than aware that you feel every little surge of emotional energy around you, having given his permission to you to feed off of whatever he puts out.

When he lingers staring just a bit too long, you slowly lower your skirt and manage a nervous laugh. “So what do you think?”

“It’s a really well-done tattoo! I like the design, it’s very, uh—hot. I mean! Pretty! It’s pretty! I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that, that was completely inappropriate and you probably don’t think of me that way and I swear I’m not the kind of guy who—“

“Izuku.” This time, there’s no nerves in your laughter. “Did you think I was platonically lifting my skirt for you?”

He freezes. You draw a blank from the air between you, and he stares, flush-faced and wide-eyed, at you. “Lift it all the way, then,” he breathes, and then comes the panic. “Oh my god. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’msosorry—“

You wish you could say that you had some cool, flirtatious response ready to go, some smooth line that would get you branded pick up artist extraordinaire, but you’re rendered entirely speechless. The thought that perhaps this is moving faster than normal relationships might flits past your brain as you grasp the sides of your skirt in two fists and lift it the rest of the way.

His frantic apologies die in his throat. For a moment, you think he dies, too—even his emotional signature is completely blank. He rests, half-crouched, green eyes cataloging the sight like he’s studying for a test. He sucks in an audible breath as he processes it and the heat of arousal floods back from him. You like to think it’s because of one detail you didn’t really expect to come up tonight:

Your tattoo matches your panties.

Izuku is surging attraction towards you in waves intense enough that you’re sure someone else must be able to feel them. There’s no one here to notice, though.

It is an eternity of him staring at your bare thighs, inked lace and real lace maybe two inches from touching, and then he is bringing calloused fingers up to hover just above the ink in your skin. “M-may I, uh—“

You try not to flinch when those same calloused fingers rest on plush flesh. He traces the lines of the tattoo almost reverently, eyes following his fingertips, occasionally flicking upwards just a bit, and you keep your eyes locked on his expression the entire time.

So focused on watching his face, you miss his fingers trailing inwards. You don’t miss them when they brush at the place your thighs kiss. Another little flinch, but this time he retreats to gauge your expression. “Is this okay?” he’s asking you. Your mind is tethered to the spot where his fingers rest on too-hot skin. “I-I don’t want to push too hard or assume anything, and—“

Your words are failing you, but you give a frantic nod. You’re not convinced you’ve ever been this turned on in your life, you’ve lost track of the feel of his emotions pressing against yours, and the only words coming to your mind at this point are: New kink. Score.

You think he thanks you as his fingers slide across your skin, but you can’t be too sure, because his fingers have left the tattoo to climb in agonizing slow motion up your thigh. They brush, rough and so, so gentle against the lace of your panties, and this time, you flinch properly, fabric slipping from your fingers to rest on his wrist.

The look Izuku gives you is uncharacteristic and nearly stern. “I want to see,” he says, gentle and sweet, as though he’s pleading with you to show him some innocent photo rather than to keep your skirt held up for his viewing pleasure.

Automatically, you’re lifting your skirt again, and he nods in appreciation. “If at any point you want me to stop, or slow down, or… any of that, tell me?”

“Mhm. I promise.”

“Good,” he says, and it’s so dangerously close to what you really want to hear that you have to suppress a shudder.

Again his fingers brush the lace covering your sex, and this time, you don’t drop the skirt. You hold it tight, even as Izuku’s fingers press into the space between your thighs, and you find yourself leaning back against his car for support. When his other hand rests on your opposite knee and pushes outwards just a touch, you let your legs part in turn.

You have the sense he hasn’t done this much. You know he hasn’t, actually—you have on good authority that he has precious little experience in the romance department, and, having been more or less in love with him for several years now, you aren’t faring much better. Maybe that’s why it’s so electric when he presses an experimental line on the outside of your panties. Maybe that’s why the shame burns so hot when his fingertip comes away damp.

His voice comes out a whisper. He’s staring up at your face in awe. “Are you…”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut tight. “This is, like… insanely hot. You’re insanely hot.”

“Good,” he breathes, and then he’s slipping his hand past the band of your panties and touching you directly.

You jump a little at the contact, biting your lip to keep from gasping out. One experimental finger dips into you, and you take it readily.

That same finger leaves you quickly, and then you feel him tentatively tugging down your panties. When you peek at him, you find big, green eyes silently asking your permission.

“Please,” you whisper.

The panties are dragged down to your ankles, and then he’s returning to you in full force, sliding a single finger in and out of your hole, curling it inside you as though he’s figuring out how you react to each motion. Before long, he’s adding a second finger, moving so slow it’s torture more than pleasure.

He’s experimenting. Learning.

Your stomach flutters at the thought—he was always a fast learner. Too late, you realize that, oh shit, he just felt that, and now he’s staring up at you with wide eyes and red-stained cheeks.

“More,” you plead. “Please, ‘Zuku.”

The name slips from your lips so easily you almost forget you’ve pushed to a new level with him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, except that he stops and retreats again, to your whiny distress.

“Can you spread them for me?”

“My legs?”

He shakes his head. “I want to see everything.”

Oh.

You shift so you’re holding your skirt in the center, and then a hand slides down to spread your lips for his viewing pleasure. He hums in contentment, and you’re aware of a subtle shifting of his position, though you’re not sure why.

“Trust me?”

“Always.”

That’s the only trigger he needs—he doesn’t return to fingering you, but those hands, large and scarred and rough against your skin, wrap around behind you as he replaces fingers with his mouth.

First a tentative taste, then a starved lick like a man starved, and oh, he’s always been good with his mouth, hasn’t he? Rambling, mumbling, brilliant thoughts have nothing on the feeling of his tongue as it finally plunges into you, the starved way he eats you out.

He’s still experimenting with you, still playing with you, but the curiosity of it all steadily falls away as he lets his instincts take the lead. When he at last brushes your clit and you gasp and your knees buckle, he takes note. He holds you up with ease, eyes half-lidded as though he’s torn between losing himself in the act and watching your reactions as he goes.

Two arms holding you up turns to one effortless arm around your waist. You have no time to consider where the other’s gone—he’s plunging those thick, rough fingers into you all over again, sucking on your clit, and suddenly you’re immensely grateful for the arm around your waist, because there’s no chance in hell you’re standing on your own like this.

His motions approach frantic. He is moaning quietly into your pussy, losing himself in it, and you’re grasping desperately for anything to find purchase on and finding only the smooth body of the car.

It doesn’t take you long. Before either of you realize it, you’re quivering, legs going fully weak, biting down on your free hand to keep from moaning out as you cum on his tongue.

He does not stop. He pulls away, just a moment, and you’re aware that you’re moving, but your head’s gone fuzzy from the everything of it all, so it takes you extra time to realize that he’s laid you across the back seat and climbed on top of you, lips pressed against your own. He keeps breaking away to mumble apologies against your lips—I’m sorry, I wanted our first kiss to be romantic, I wanted all of this to be romantic but I’m—and you find the cognizance within yourself to swallow those apologies with another kiss. You taste salty on his lips.

He is melting into the kiss, pulling away somewhat less frantic than he had been, eyes studying your face.

You quirk a smile his way. “Is it too forward to tell you I think you’re hot?”

He huffs a little breath of laughter against your lips. “Only if it’s too forward for me to say the same.”

You giggle, wind your arms around his neck. “Not too forward, I’d say.”

His hand trails up your side, fingers toying with the edge of your shirt. You’re glad, also, for the choice to wear a button-down over a tank top. The decision had been risky, and it’s not like you picked this outfit for access, but you’re appreciating that access now. He’s not even seen you naked yet, but he’s looking over you beneath him reverently, trailing fingertips up and down your clothed side.

“I can’t believe how gorgeous you are,” he confesses in a murmur. And then: “I always thought you’d look pretty underneath me. You always looked pretty, of course! I just mean… wow.”

“I haven’t even taken my clothes off for you yet.”

“If you seriously think you need to take your clothes off for me to think you’re the hottest thing alive, I don’t even know what to tell you.”

“Oh come on. You’re exaggerating.”

He grinds his hips down into you, and oh fuck. Maybe he’s not. “Does that feel like exaggerating to you?”

It was barely a moment, but that little press of his hips to yours was enough to be sure of one thing: he’s big. Between the muscles and the package between his legs, you are well set to be split in half.

You welcome the opportunity.

“Mm, I’m not sure. Better do that again so I can check.”

Another drag of his lips against yours. Another roll of his hips against yours. This he grants you eagerly, groaning into your mouth.

Something presses at you that’s not him and his devastatingly horny state.

You intake a breath, pull away, press a hand to his mouth. He gets the message, easily—someone is nearby. A neighbor, stepped outside for a moment. He takes the hint, presses his whole body against yours in an attempt to conceal himself from view.

When the presence leaves, and you’re sure you have the advantage of privacy again, you give him a little nod and peel your hand from his mouth.

A small smile, a small laugh. “I think we might have finally cleared the air between us.”

He tilts his head down at you with just a touch of mischief in his eyes. “I thought we were doing good.”

“We were! We were also an entire trainwreck.”

His cheeks tinge pink. “I-I was doing my best!”

“I know. We both were.” You ghost a kiss onto his nose. “We should head inside, though.”

“Inside?” he squeaks, as though it’s something scandalous.

“You do realize you just ate me out in the middle of the parking lot, right? I think you’re maybe at the point where I can invite you into my apartment.”

“Right. Yeah. Right.”

“You’ve been in my apartment before. You helped me move in!”

He whines, buries his face in your neck. “That was different!”

“Oh, poor ‘Zuku. But you know, if you come inside, I could return the favor…”

You’re not really sure what configuration of anything makes it happen, but one moment, you’re sprawled underneath him in the backseat of his car, the next, he has you in his arms bridal-style, as though you weigh nothing at all.

He takes the staircase one flight at a time. You don’t go back on your word.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @stxrrielle @snowymaltese @graywrites20

OKAY we are revamping the taglist. I've wiped it of all except recent requests just to quickly weed out inactive blogs.

If you'd like to be tagged, let me know by either replying, reblogging, or sending an ask letting me know what you'd like to be tagged in! (Eg. updates to this fic, all izuku fics, only nsfw fics, only sfw fics, all bnha fics, etc.) If at any point you'd like to be taken off the taglist, no hard feelings, just let me know!

#my fics #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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tangledinink · 1 year

Text

gasp!!! TWO chapters of teenage mutant what now? in one week!?!? .... NO :D thats not what this is! This is, however, a little side-fic/drabble I wrote at work yesterday on a whim. Read it on ao3 or below the cut!!!

This takes place a few months before the start of the main fic and is 'canon,' but is just a little character/relationship exploration thing? Donnie-centric / Brains-n-Brawn-centric. This is a little bit heavier than the main fic so pleaseee be mindful of the tags below!

Hunger has claws.

It will struggle a bit before it settles. Sometimes, after being idle for a while, it’ll suddenly start to fight again. It’ll rear up through your stomach and up into your chest, banging its head against your sternum and raking its nails down the inside of you, and it makes your face go hot and your vision swim and your mouth tastes like blood for just a minute as it screams and begs you.

But if you grit your teeth and bear it, it’ll settle down again after a minute or so and back off. And the comfortable sensation of ‘empty’ will come back to you. And except for in those rare, brief moments, hunger is relatively calm. It feels safe sometimes.

There is nothing inside me that will hurt me. There is nothing inside me that will hurt me. I have not put anything inside, so I know for a fact-- there is nothing inside me that will hurt me.

---

Donnie had been awake since four in the morning, much to his annoyance, but he had yet to do anything beyond stare at the wall since he realized he’d be unable to get back to sleep. He hadn’t even crawled out from under the covers, stayed bundled up beneath the soothing pressure of his weighted blanket, his face buried against the fabric and breathing in the scent of it. He could see his alarm clock from here, and knew that it would go off soon. He could see the beginnings of the sunrise beginning to color the glass pane of his window. He could hear the city outside slowly waking up.

He would really prefer it if it didn’t.

Anxiety prickled at his limbs, gnawing at his skin and keeping him awake, chewing on every corner of him, and he resisted a whine, bundling himself up even tighter and squeezing his eyes shut as if that might help.

Today felt wrong. He had hoped that a good night’s rest would reset things. You know. The good old ‘turn it off and turn it back on again.’ Yesterday had sucked, and he had really been banking on his ability to simply sleep this off because he, quite frankly, didn’t have any other ideas.

But now today felt even worse.

His alarm clock mocked him as another minute visibly ticked by, dragging him closer and closer to the inevitable. He was already dreading the prospect, waiting miserably for the device to begin chirping at him, demanding he start the day. The very thought made his stomach flip-flop with unwelcome nausea. He didn’t want to get out of bed. He didn’t want to leave his room. He didn’t want to do anything. And the worst part was that he knew he didn’t actually have to.

If he really wanted to, he could just turn the alarms off and stay in bed. He already knew exactly what would happen.

Eventually, when he didn’t come down from his room for breakfast, as per routine, his dad would come up to check on him, knocking softly on the door and poking his head in. And he’d ask, are you awake, Purple? And Donnie would grumble and nod from the covers. And then he would come in and close the door behind him and come over to his bed and ask, are you okay? What’s wrong? And Donnie knew that if he responded that it was a ‘bad day,’ said that he didn’t want to get out of bed, told him he was staying home today… Dad would let him.

He knew that their dad would sit with him for a while, and that he wouldn’t bring any expectations to the preceding conversation, but that he would stay and talk about it with them for a bit to see if that helped-- to see if discussing the problem was enough to resolve things and coax Donnie out of bed. And admittedly, sometimes it did. Sometimes just explaining why he was anxious or being reassured that he could call their dad to come pick them up at any point during the day was enough for him to settle and organize his thoughts enough that he’d decide to get up after all. And sometimes, it didn’t. And that was fine, too. Even now, he knew that if he asked for it, his father would absolutely allow him the day off and stay home with him.

But he also knew that if he asked for this, it would set off the warning bells.

He knew that his dad would ask him about what was wrong and why he was having a ‘bad day,’ and because Donnie couldn’t lie for the life of him, would eventually uncover that he had skipped two out of three meals the day prior, and then he would make him eat. Not right away, but at some point, he’d gently insist that Donnie consume at least something small to start, at least one of his protein shakes or some saltine crackers, something he knew Donnie liked and was ‘safe.’ They knew he’d call Mossy, and then she’d be trying to get them to do the same thing, too. And then Dad would be watching him, and making sure he was eating, and paying attention to ensure it, and Donnie wouldn’t be able to covertly skip any meals and sneak away, because he was allowed to have a bad day and stay in bed sometimes, but he wasn’t allowed to stop eating--

He couldn’t have both. He could either get out of bed…

Or he could eat.

Cornering his resolve, Donnie bit the insides of his cheeks and kicked off the covers.

---

The journey to school was basically hell.

Usually, he didn’t mind the subway. His siblings were very good about providing him with a ‘shield’ when it was overly crowded and making sure not too many people touched him or shoved up against him, his headphones kept all the noise and chatter at bay, and the rhythmic, back-and-forth sway of the train moving along the tracks was usually comforting to him, in an odd sort of way.

Today, it just made him want to throw up. And he had already wanted to throw up when he got on the subway.

The entire commute he had to focus all of his energy simply on not just straight up vomiting, fighting the urge to anxiously flick his wrists or bounce his leg, trying to keep his body settled and calm and not-visibly-distressed because usually he was okay with his family helping him, but not right now, because if they caught on that he was this anxious, they were going to pay more attention, and then they might catch on that he had faked out breakfast this morning (thank god for the absolute chaos of the Hamato’s first meal of the day, which made for excellent cover,) or seek him out and watch him during lunch, and then they would make him eat, and he didn’t want to eat. He couldn’t make himself engage in conversation, couldn’t manage to keep up with the chatter and back-and-forth with his family, so he instead summoned the very last of his social energy to invite Leo to listen to this new album that he thought he’d really like with him. And when Leo excitedly agreed, he synced their bluetooths, queued up a band he knew Leo had never listened to before on Spotify, and then focused on reciting digits of Pi silently in his head for the rest of the trip, trying desperately to keep the anxiety and nausea in check.

He had never been so relieved in his life as he was when they finally got to their stop, the robotic announcer cheerfully declaring that doors would be opening on the left. He felt his head swim just the tiniest bit when he rose up to his feet, but it backed off quick enough, and the absolute minute they were back above ground, breathing in the fresh breeze instead of hot, disgusting, horrendous subway air, worming into his lungs and sweating inside him, he practically cried with relief. He sucked in several long, deep breaths as they walked, and slowly let it out, biting the insides of his cheeks and grinding his teeth quietly inside his head.

It was fine. It was over. He made it through it, and it was over, and he was okay, see? And there was nothing inside him. Nothing inside him that would hurt him. Relax. You’re okay. There’s still nothing bad inside you.

A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that this wasn’t rational. That he was being pretty fucking stupid right now. That he should really take out his phone, like, right now and text Mossy and tell her what was going on and figure it out and deal with it instead of playing these stupid mind games with himself.

But Mossy would make him eat. And he didn’t want to eat.

“Dude--”

He nearly toppled over when an arm shot out in front of him, smacking against his chest and stopping him dead in his tracks. He blinked in surprise, stumbling the tiniest bit to find his balance again.

Leo retracted his arm after a moment, giving the other a pointed look, one brow raised as the rest of the group paused to glance back at the two. “Uh. Earth to Donnie. Are you, like, good?” Leo questioned, frowning at him. “You literally just almost walked into a lamp post.”

Ah. So he had.

“... Hm. Well. That is… less than ideal,” he muttered, half-to-himself, a bit dazed for a moment, before he shook it off and re-centered his focus, clearing his throat slightly and giving a flourishing wave of his hand. “Right. Apologizes, dear brother. I’m afraid I didn’t get the most sleep last night,” not a lie. “I’m working on a new project,” also not a lie, “with that AI system I pioneered. Remember how I explained that to you? My intention is to develop an improved API to match the modifications I’ve made in the programming, considering that the framework itself has been altered slightly… I’m still working on updating some of the conditionals as well. It’s all mostly backend information, so I wasn’t sure it would really be necessary at first, but given the OS--”

“Okay! Okay, okay! This was not a request to explain your nerd coding stuff!” Leo interrupted with a groan, rolling his eyes, and Donnie sighed internally with relief. He knew that would work. For once he was glad that his twin was typically unwilling to listen to him spout off about his work.

He huffed and made some generic intelligence-based insult in Leo’s general direction in response as he brushed past him, sealing the legitimacy of his performance, and made a mental note to pay more attention to where he was walking for the rest of the day.

---

He was hungry, but it wasn’t so bad now. It was just a physical sensation that he was dimly aware of in the back of his mind and capable of tuning out. Because sure, his body might be hungry. But he sure wasn’t. He had absolutely zero desire to consume anything. The thought of eating was, quite frankly, wholly unappealing and he couldn’t imagine a single thing in the world right now that he would want to eat. Not even any of his favorites. Not even any of his safe foods.

If you ignore hunger long enough, you kind of don’t notice it so much anymore. You can get used to it. You can go a few days, even, before it becomes beastly enough to truly demand to be heard.

… Usually, he didn’t do this. Not anymore, anyway.

Usually, he was fine. Well. Maybe not always fine, per se, but usually all of this was manageable. It… had been a problem, once upon a time. I mean, it had always been a problem, but then it had become a real problem, and it had been unmanageable, and things had been a little rough for a second there (story of his fucking life,) but then he had gotten out from under it because he and Mossy talked about it a lot, and he and his Dad talked about it a lot, and he talked to his siblings some, too, and it got better and then eventually it got easier. He remembered, back then, when it was still unmanageable, way back in middle school, he used to have a chart. Because Mossy, the evil genius, had decided to prey up both his competitive nature and his love for filling out charts and graphs. And the rule had originally been at least two meals a day at least three days a week. That was the starting point. It was okay if the meal was a protein shake. It was okay if every meal was a protein shake. He just had to hit that goal.

And it was hard. Eating had always been hard, because there were so many foods that he just hated and so many foods that he didn’t know and sometimes it just felt bad. Sometimes, just the mere act alone of putting something in his mouth, chewing it, and then swallowing it was, in and of itself, simply revolting. But he could, at least, kind of handle it a bit better when he had a goal like that. And when he got to record the data on a graph once he had done it.

They had eventually upped that goal, and then upped it again, and again, until Donnie was able to hit it consistently enough for long enough that he had graduated from the chart altogether.

And it was hard sometimes, still. It had always been hard. But usually, it was hard in a way that he could navigate.

He wouldn’t be able to meet that first ‘starting point’ goal right now if he tried, he didn’t think.

He knew that he was supposed to eat. He knew that, biologically, it was an objective fact that he needed food to survive. And that fasting for long periods of time was unhealthy, and that he was damaging himself-- etc etc etc. Yeah, whatever.

He knew lots of stuff. That didn’t change things.

It was just as helpful as knowing that a hug was intended as pleasant and supportive when he was experiencing sensory overload. Or knowing there were no insects or hidden cameras in his room when he was in the middle of a full on fucking breakdown. Or knowing that he had already triple-checked that he shut down his soldering gun properly when it was the middle of the night and he couldn’t sleep and his brain was crawling with what-ifs?

That is to say, completely and utterly useless.

The nausea had persisted through the day, much to his chagrin, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t block out and ignore. Schoolwork made for a good distraction, and skipping lunch was as simple as tossing out what he had been packed for the day (sorry, Mikey,) and finding some corner of the library to hide in. He didn’t typically eat lunch with any of his siblings, given the size of their school and how poorly their schedules aligned for such purposes, and they all had their own friends to eat with, anyway. Maybe some of his friends would text him regarding his absence, but he wasn’t really worried about it. It wasn’t unusual for him not to come to lunch, given the nature of his hybrid-schooling model, and lying was a lot easier through text.

He liked the library. It was quiet here. And he really did have stuff to work on. He always did. The way his hands trembled was annoying, but did not deter him.

---

He felt Leo’s fingers tap against his ankle.

He had, admittedly, not exactly been focusing up until a second ago. Really, he hadn’t been focusing much for a while now. Their coach had told them to do ten sets of two-hundred’s, which was easy enough, but also meant a lot of back and forth. Donnie didn’t mind lots of back and forth. If anything, he enjoyed it. He liked swimming, and he did some of his best thinking in the water. How many incredible software programs and inventions and designs had been birthed here, after all?

But usually, he was capable of thinking and swimming in a straight line at the same time.

He was having a bit more trouble today than he’d like to admit.

He was beginning to get sore from how many times he had scraped himself up against the lane-line after losing focus and heading ever-so-slightly off track. And though he had kept his lead thus far, heading the charge as per usual, the repeated crashes had slowed him down. His lead was not quite as dominant as it normally was.

And Leo was trying to pass him.

Fuck.

Donnie bristled, immediately bringing his focus back into the world around him, throwing whatever dredges of energy he still had left into his front stroke and pulling back out ahead-- leaving Leo behind. It wasn’t terribly hard. He was easily the strongest swimmer on the team on a good day, and even on a bad day, he could edge out the rest of the pack.

It was just. Jesus, it was exhausting.

This wasn’t even a particularly demanding set. He was just fucking tired. And keeping his lead, though do-able, required everything he had left to give.

(Which was quite annoying, because he had been right in the middle of mentally unraveling a really complicated mathematics equation that he needed for a robotics project.)

One-by-one, all right after another, the group eventually finished their laps, ending up bunched up at the end of the lane, clinging to the side of the pool so everyone could catch their breath and guzzle down water. And at the beginning of the day, Donnie had been fine with water. He had been drinking water, earlier, at least. But somewhere along the line it had become bad no unclean bad harmful no no no absolutely do not no as well, and so he had stopped. Given the fact that everyone was already soaking wet and quite literally surrounded by water to begin with, however, it was quite easy to fake it.

And he had been hoping that the fact that Leo hadn’t managed to pass him would be enough to make him sulk and not be willing to bring it up. And, if not, he was expecting Leo to crow and tease him about his near-accomplishment, and then the two of them could fight with each other over it, and Donnie could be all annoyed and roll his eyes and make snarky quips, and that would be so much easier to manage.

But instead Leo gave him this concerned, sidelong sort of look and raised a brow and said, for the second time that day,

“Dude. You good?”

Donnie had kind of stared at him for a second, blinking slowly, processing, before he finally responded.

“Why?”

“You’re way slower than usual. And you kept hitting the lane-lines,” Leo observed, and dammit, Donnie didn’t know why he was even surprised that Leo noticed that-- of course he would.

“Are you feeling okay? You’re not getting sick or somethin’, are ya?” Raph questioned, looking Donnie up and down, his brows pinching with worry. Donnie frowned, hesitated, and then shrugged.

“I dunno. Maybe,” they muttered, and technically, that wasn’t a lie, either.

---

Though they had eventually backed off enough for them to get through the rest of swim practice, despite Raph’s repeated suggestions that they skip out early and head home if Donnie wasn’t feeling good, he could feel both of his brothers looking at him for the rest of the evening. It was starting to make his nerves bunch up and his vision kind of cave in in a way that he didn’t like. It was starting to make his head feel kind of hot and fuzzy in a way he didn’t care for. The fact that they were at swim, specifically, and not gymnastics or dance or literally anywhere else was really the only thing holding him together. He suspected he would have had a panic attack and vomited at least once by now otherwise.

But they were in the water.

He liked being in the water.

It was… comforting, he supposed. He had always really enjoyed the sensory experience of it. Of swimming, sure, but also just being in the water. He loved how sound became just a little bit blurred and far off when he ducked his head under, and would often tip his head back in between laps just so that his ears would get covered up and filled in and things would go a bit quiet and mumbly. He liked how softly the water touched him and how it held him up-- the weightlessness of it. He even liked the smell of chlorine, strangely enough. It felt nostalgic somehow.

At least once every single time he got in the pool, no matter what the reason or where they were, he always would dive all the way down to the bottom at least once. He liked being down below it all-- to curl up small on the pool floor and settle down and just… be there for a while.

It was so peaceful down there.

He swore he could stay down there forever. He would live at the bottom of the pool if he could get away with it. But eventually Raph would always peer down at him with this kind of worried look, like, are you good, or did you drown and I’ve gotta come get your corpse? And he’d remember that he wouldn’t be able to operate a welding torch or set up a PC down here and he’d come back up to the surface.

He did it five times today.

He liked being in the water.

The problem truly came when he had to get out of the water. Because once it was no longer physically holding him up, he already knew that there was a very real chance he was going to fall apart. And, even worse--

Getting out of the water meant swim practice was over. Which meant that they were that much closer to going home. Which meant that they were that much closer to dinner.

This was, by far, the most difficult meal to worm his way out of, especially considering he had just done it yesterday. And his brothers were already looking at him.

Typically, on Thursdays, Leo and Raph would go down the hall from the pool to the basketball court after swim practice was over for an hour or two before they headed back to the apartment for the evening. Sometimes Donnie would come, usually to sit and watch, rarely to participate, and sometimes he would head off without them and spend the time in his lab before everyone got home and they gathered for dinner. But Leo and Raph clearly had no intention of leaving him by himself right now, wordlessly agreeing to abandon any other previous plans for the evening and head straight home instead. And it was… nice. Donnie could certainly acknowledge that. It was, like, sweet, or whatever, that they were worried about him.

But it was so, so not what he wanted right now.

His body was absolutely weighed down with dread, so very much so that when he tried to follow his brothers and get out of the water at the end of practice, it didn’t quite work. He tried twice more, attempting to lift himself up on his shaking arms far enough to get his knee up onto the ledge, something that was usually easy for him, something he could usually accomplish without a second thought and even a bit of effort… but each time he just couldn’t quite get high enough and he fell back down.

“Donnie,” Raph said, slowly, carefully, his voice measured and gentle, after the third failure. “Can I touch you?”

Donnie grit his teeth in frustration, giving a short shake of his head no.

He could tell that Raph was frustrated, too, though he didn’t say it. “Okay,” he said. “Do you think you can make it to the ladder over there?” He asked instead, gesturing to the far side of the pool. The rest of the team chattered around them as they filed their way towards the locker rooms, talking with each other or discussing things with coaches, and Donnie wished so, so very desperately that they would all shut up. He tipped his head back to cover his ears, just for a second, just for a break, and Raph and Leo waited in silence until he finally righted himself again and nodded.

“Alright. Don’t swim though. Wall-walk over,” Raph instructed, with the kind of voice that said do not fucking argue with me, and usually Donnie would roll his eyes and scoff and be annoyed with the mere concept of Raph trying to tell him what to do like that, let alone implying that he couldn’t handle swimming across four lanes to get to the side of the pool… But he didn’t really have the energy for that right now.

(And also, maybe a tiny part of him wasn’t sure he could swim across four lanes right now. I mean. He was pretty sure he could. He had just swam, like, literally several miles. Surely he could still do this, right? But jesus christ, what if he couldn’t? What if what if what if?)

“Leo, go grab Donnie’s towel and the rest of his stuff from the locker room, alright?” Raph said. Leo visibly hesitated, clearly not wanting to leave his twin, not wanting to leave either of them and be somewhere else-- but he nodded anyway, and headed off at a brisk pace on his retrieval mission. Once he had headed off, Raph wasted no time in returning back to the water, entering via the lane next over to avoid jostling or splashing Donnie and then quickly diving down and under so he could rejoin his younger brother’s side.

He reminded him of a seal, Donnie thought distantly to himself. Not because he wasn’t graceful on land. He was. For someone as big and bulky as him, he could be shockingly nimble when he wanted to be, and he honestly didn’t give himself enough credit for it. It was more because of just how much more graceful he was in the water. The way he moved. Just like a seal-- gliding along effortlessly, almost elegantly with how poised and controlled his movements were, despite his size. Strength and power and finesse and precision all at once. Sometimes Donnie was jealous.

The journey over to the ladder wasn’t a difficult one. He probably could have swam. He was tired, and he was trembling, but not so bad that he couldn’t swim across a mere four lanes. But he wall-walked anyway and Raph lingered nearby, taking care not to crowd him but sticking close regardless, just in case, until they made it to the side of the pool. And Donnie climbed out, and then so did Raph, and Donnie managed to last about thirty seconds of being outside of the water before he, just as predicted, started to break apart.

He didn’t want to be touched right now, and gravity had its hands wrapped firm around each of his limbs and was pulling him, and it was horrendous. He just managed to get himself to the nearby bleachers, luckily not more than a few feet away, shaking like a leaf as he clawed his swim cap and goggles off of himself, tossing them aside, not caring where they ended up, just suddenly wanting them off. He hated how the air felt on his wet skin. He hated the weight to each of his limbs. He hated everything, he hated existing, and everything was toppling down around him and threatening to drown him now that he was on dry land. He curled himself up into a little ball, ducking his head down between his knees, and he wasn’t crying, exactly, and he wasn’t totally panicking either, but he was real close to both of them and a short, high-pitched whine escaped from him without his consent.

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

He felt awful.

The hunger was clawing again.

There is nothing inside me that will hurt me, he reminded himself desperately. There is nothing inside me that will hurt me. I have not put anything inside, so I know for a fact-- there is nothing inside me that will hurt me.

“Hey. Hey, it’s alright. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna go home as soon as Leo gets back,” Raph soothed, crouching down next to him. “You’re doing good. Just deep breaths. Let me go grab your water bottle for you real fast so you can drink somethin’, alright? That’ll help--”

His heart jumped through his chest and his throat threatened to close up for a moment, the wobbly very-beginnings of a sob catching against his teeth. He shook his head sharply, every muscle in his body tensing as his breath escalated in its already rapid pace. No. No, he didn’t want that. He didn’t want his water bottle, and he didn’t want Raph to walk away from him, and he did not want to drink. It wouldn’t help. No. His throat was all dry and sticking together and his head was spinning and sore and pounding but he did not want that.

“Okay! Okay, alright, I don’t have to. I can stay,” Raph assured quickly, floundering just the tiniest bit, holding his hands up in surrender. Donnie grit his teeth, hissing out some noise that even he didn’t know the meaning of in response, drawing himself in tighter. And for a little bit, they were both just quiet, with Raph sitting there with him, waiting, watching, purposefully and audibly breathing slow and deep, and Donnie struggling to try to match him with his own ragged pants-- teetering on the very edges of a full panic attack and windmilling his arms wildly to avoid toppling over.

“Hey, Don?” Raph finally spoke again. “Can you lookit me for a sec?”

Donnie bristled, immediately shaking his head.

“I’m not askin’ for eye contact or anythin’, Donnie, I just wanna see your face real quick. You can keep your eyes shut, but can you just pick up your head a little? Please?”

Donnie whined, not really wanting to do that, either, but he did it anyway, just barely lifting his head. He couldn’t make himself meet his brother’s eyes, staring firmly down at the ground instead, and he felt like a fucking dog that get caught digging up the garden or something. And that alone was almost enough to make him tear up. He waited for whatever would come next with this lump in his throat, anxious anticipation biting at his spine.

“When’d you last eat?”

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. He knew he would figure it out, but the confirmation was somehow devastating anyway. He knew he would. He wasn’t stupid. Of course he would catch him, of course he would--

‘Nauseous,’ he signed in a weak defense, but Raph didn’t budge and Donnie wasn’t the least bit surprised. He couldn’t even blame him.

“Donnie.”

He considered lying for a moment, but then thought better of it. It wouldn’t work anyway.

‘Breakfast,’ he signed, sniffling weakly.

“Okay, but when?”

He hated how smart his brother was, and how well he knew him.

‘Yesterday.’ He had a protein shake for breakfast yesterday.

Raph buried his face in his hands, a frustrated sigh escaping him, and Donnie immediately retreated back beneath the cover of his own folded arms, a choked little hiccup escaping him.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s not you. I’m not mad at you. Sorry,” Raph corrected right away, wincing slightly. “I’m not… mad. It’s alright. But-- Donnie. You have to eat. I know you know that!”

Donnie frowned, hunching his shoulders slightly, his face all shoved up against his knees.

‘I know.’

“Then why aren’t you? Did something happen?”

He stiffened a little, shaking his head.

‘I just don’t want to.’

“Donnie.”

‘It’s easier.’

“Don.”

‘It’s so much easier to just not--’

“Donnie,” Raph pressed. “I know. Okay? I know. But usually, you do it anyway! Usually you don’t do this! What happened?”

‘It’s stupid.’

“Okay. Look. I dunno if you know this or not, Don, but you’re pretty damn smart. So your definition of stupid is usually pretty skewed,” Raph scoffed softly. “So can you please just… tell Raph anyway?”

Donnie frowned, keeping quiet for a second, his nose scrunched up and his lips curled. And it took him a second before he finally signed a response.

‘Did you know Sierra is a vegan?’

Raph blinked slowly, seeming a tiny bit taken aback, just for a moment, before tilting his head to the side. “Sierra from your robotics team?”

Donnie nodded.

“Uh… No?”

‘I didn’t either!’ Donnie signed, this tiny, humorless, pained little laugh escaping from him. ‘But I do now! And all the reasons why she is, and about how she won’t eat anything with GMO’s or preservatives or artificial anything and a million other different things, and why, all in excruciating detail. We discussed it yesterday during lunch. And I learned so much shit that I didn’t want to know! And god, half of it is probably conspiracy theory bullshit that’s not even real, half of it sounds totally ridiculous and completely implausible by all rational, scientific standards, but I-- I don’t want to look it up! What if it is? And even if it’s not real, it doesn’t even matter! It’s not gonna help! And that’s the worst part!!! So what’s the point!?’

Raph sighed a bit. “Donnie…”

‘And it’s-- it’s so dumb! Because I don’t even believe in any of that stuff! I don’t agree with half of the stuff she said! It’s all stupid bullshit that probably isn’t real and not based on any sort of evidence, so I don’t know why I care, because I certainly don’t want to! I have no idea why this is bothering me so bad because it’s random and dumb and it shouldn’t! But I do care now, apparently, and everything feels gross and bad and wrong and I don’t-- I don’t want to. I can’t. It just. It feels so bad all of a sudden. I cannot fucking do it. I threw up, like, four times yesterday, Raph.’

Raphael visibly winced. And Donnie winced, too, and frowned, curling and uncurling his toes, rocking back and forth just the tiniest bit as he yanked at his own twists, rolling them between his fingers.

Raph kept quiet for a minute, and then he breathed deep out through his nose, and inhaled sharply.

“Okay. First of all. That ain’t stupid,” he said, and then hesitated a second. “Well. I mean. It’s a little stupid. I mean. The shit that Sierra said is probably mostly stupid. And your brain latchin’ on and bein’ anxious about it and givin’ you a hard time is kind of stupid, too,” he admitted. “... But that doesn’t make you stupid! I mean. It’s not like that’s your fault! You’re just… stuck dealin’ with other people’s stupid! And that’s dumb and it sucks, but it ain’t your fault!”

Donnie frowned, huffing very softly.

‘I should be able to figure it out,’ they argued, though half-heartedly. ‘I should be able to deal with this by now.’

“Okay, that’s stupid,” Raph said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just because you do somethin’ really hard for a long time doesn’t mean it’s never gonna be hard ever again! You just get good at handlin’ it. But it’s still hard! Shit’s still gonna be hard sometimes! And, like, yeah, this is hard for you. But different things are hard for different people! And I know that sounds corny or whatever, but listen,” he fixed Donnie with a hard look. “Raph thinks math is hard. Like. I think that algebra is crazy hard! But you don’t! So does that make me stupid? Or mean that I shouldn’t need your help with that stuff anymore? ‘Cause I should just figure it out?”

Donnie sighed softly, rolling his eyes. Curse him and his ‘turn it around on him’ type logic. He pursed his lips into a pout, very reluctantly signing ‘no’ in reply.

“Then shut up. It’s fine if this is a hard thing! And it’s fine if you need help! Especially ‘cause you do deal with it, like, literally every day! And you usually do a good damn job!” Raph argued. “But no one expects you to be perfect at it all the time, Don! Second of all--”

Raph relaxed his posture again slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.

“This sucks. And it’s hard and shit. But it’ll be okay. Leo’s gonna be back any minute now with your stuff, and we’ll call a cab and get you back home. And we’ll talk to Dad. And we can call Mossy. And we’ll figure it out. Alright? And look,”

Raph sighed deeply, frowning a tiny bit, his brows twitching down just the tiniest bit, creasing in the middle.

“Raph’s not gonna let anything hurt you, okay? Not even stupid preservatives or GMO’s or whatever the hell else Sierra said. I promise.”

Donnie stared at him for a second, slowly processing what he just did.

I’m sorry. Did his big brother actually just… swear to defend him from… GMO’s?

That was so fucking stupid.

He laughed for real this time, starting as a weak, watery little giggle and then quickly evolved into full-blown cackles. It kind of hurt his stomach, honestly, but he didn’t even care right now.

Oh my god. This was so fucking stupid.

Why did that actually make him feel so much better?

‘Okay,’ he signed, chuckling weakly and scrubbing at his face a few times. ‘Okay.’

Raph smiled, giving a firm nod in response.

“Okay,” he echoed.

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hungryforpowernotfood · 2 months

Text

Making a Deal (Part 2)

Summary: Your date, gentlemen and distinguished folks

Warning(s): House being rude to waiting restaurant staff, being misgendered/mistaken as a woman (being called ma'am), self doubt, and anxiety

Pairing(s): Greg House x ftm reader

You stood on the sidewalk waiting for House to drive up. He had insisted on picking you up and treating it like an actual date. He was even on time when you recognized his car approaching you.

You gave him a small wave and watched as he pulled up along the sidewalk, and stopped the car a few feet ahead of where you were.

You frowned as you started walking towards the car. He got out and started limping around to the other side.

“What’d you do that for?”

“Because if I pulled up beside you, you would get in the car myself. And if memory serves, that’s not exactly how dates go.” He responds, opening up the passenger door for you.

“Right, but isn’t that for women?”

“Ever heard of equality, l/n? Get in the car.”

You huffed, and got in—him practically slamming the door shut after you. He slammed his door shut as well after he got in, and you wondered if he knew he didn’t need to slam it for it to properly close, but decided against bringing it up.

Aside from the radio playing, the majority of the car ride was silent between the two of you—House made a few comments about the restaurant he was taking you to, and made a joke about how he didn’t know what food you liked. He occasionally made comments about what was playing, but he never changed the station.

“Don’t get out yet.” He ordered after he had parked the car. He got out himself, then limped to your side, and opened your door for you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” House made a point of saying the words, but he loosely linked his arm to yours as you made your way toward the restaurant. He gave the greeter his name for the reservation, and the two of you were led to your table.

The restaurant was admittedly nicer than you thought it would be, however, the conversation was as forced as you predicted it would be, despite the few compliments he made.

It wasn’t very long before the waitress introduced herself, and offered to get your drinks. House ordered your drink for you—insisting you try something and trust him—and by the time the waitress got back with your drinks, she took your orders.

House decided to go first, and you were about to make a biting comment about how he could’ve just picked something for you when you realized something: you had never presented as male before in public. Not like this, at least. You hadn’t been able to get any interviews yet, and when you went to the store, you were always able to go to the self-checkout.

“And for you sir?” The waitress turned to you, and you barely registered that she was talking to you.

You cleared your throat, attempting to deepen your voice.

“I’ll take the—” You cut yourself off by the waitress’s expression.

“I–I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—I meant ma’am.”

You tried not to flinch at the word. You glanced at House and saw he was glaring at the waitress.

“I know they don’t pay you much,” he growled, making her turn to face him, “and obviously you didn’t get much schooling, but you must be an idiot to refer to my boyfriend as ‘ma’am’.”

He made a point of mocking the word ‘ma’am’, like a child who just learned a new nonsense word, and thinks it’s the most ridiculous thing ever to roll off their tongue.

“I—right, I’m sorry, it’s my mistake—” She said, turning to address you now.

“That was established.” House scoffed.

“What can I get for you, sir?” The waitress asked a little quieter now, though you were sure it was only to avoid any more ridicule from House.

You gave her your order—her quickly jotting it down as you said it, repeating it to the both of you to make sure she got both orders right, and quickly walking back to the kitchen.

House rolled his eyes. “Honestly, if I can’t escape idiots at work, you’d think I’d at least be able to avoid them here.”

“It’s okay.”

“Not really.”

“No, I mean…I understand why she thought…I don’t look very masculine.”

House cocked his head to the side. “Sure, maybe you don’t have a beard to make it obvious you have a mix of testosterone and the proper hormones to give some people the hint that maybe you possibly are male, but that doesn’t mean she should be rude about it.”

“She wasn’t being rude.”

“Yes, she was. You’re clearly presenting as male, she had no issue in assuming that we were two men having dinner, and did not hesitate to call you ‘sir’. She only changed when she heard her voice. Which is rude. Especially considering there could’ve been a genetic reason or medical reason for you not having a lower voice.”

“I know that, but—”

“No buts. Let her learn her lesson.”

You gave him a look. “When did you teach her a lesson?” You teased slightly.

“That she shouldn’t have just assumed what you preferred to be called. If you didn’t want to be called ‘sir’, you would’ve corrected her the first time. Or I would have.” House paused, before slightly furrowing his brow. “Besides, no one wants to be called ‘ma’am.”

#greg house x reader #house md #x ftm reader #x reader #dr house x reader #transmasc #greg house #dr house

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midnightshard06 · 3 months

Text

Happy Valentine's day to all who celebrate! For those who don't hope your day was great!

Wanted to try and do this a bit earlier in the day but here we are. Bringing you some art and a fic from this little au thing cause I felt like it. The fic will be below the cut. Enjoy.

Pairing: Sonic/Shadow

Word Count: ~2100 words

You can also check it out on AO3 here!

"Have fun you two!" Tails waved as Sonic led Shadow off.

"We will! See you in a while little bro!" Sonic waved back before gently grabbing Shadow's hand. As he always did he gave the other hedgehog plenty of time to pull away. Though Shadow simply glanced down at their hands before making a soft noise of approval.

Admittedly Sonic was a little nervous. This was the first time he was taking Shadow out on what he would consider a "real date". Sure they'd been out alone plenty of times but all those times Sonic had just been showing Shadow around or teaching him about something. This time though Sonic had specifically chosen a place they'd not only visited before, but that Shadow had actually asked to go back to on several occasions. Those times had been a massive win. Shadow for all his outward confidence actually had a hard time asking for things. No matter how small. An unfortunate byproduct of how he'd been treated on the Ark. The thought of what Shadow had to go through always made his quills bristle; Sonic almost wished he could meet this Gerald guy face to face. Almost.

Sonic was pulled from his less than positive thoughts as Shadow squeezed his hand, concerned frown on his face. "You ok?" His tail was twitching behind him nervously as he searched Sonic’s face.

"I'm fine Shads." Sonic squeezed the other hedgehog's hand back. "Just thinking about some stuff I don't need to."

Shadow hummed, not looking entirely pleased by that answer but he didn’t say anything else. Though Shadow did perk up in interest as he seemed to realize where they were going. “The Chao Garden?” Shadow glanced at him, a smile threatening to make its way onto his face.

“Course.” Sonic smiled. “I bet the little guys miss us.” Shadow hummed in agreement. “Wanna race there?” Sonic shot Shadow a challenging look. If there was something he’d learned about Shadow it was that the other hedgehog could get competitive. Honestly Sonic loved that. Sure the two of them could get carried away sometimes, but it felt like in those moments where the two of them were competing that Shadow was truly living. Not being weighed down by his past.

Shadow immediately returned the look. “You’re on.”

Sonic regrettably had to let go of Shadow’s hand but that was alright, racing was much better anyway. “Three, two, one… go!” They shot off. Of course Sonic would have to pull back a little bit to keep things fair. Sure Shadow was naturally fast, but he’d forgone his air shoes today. They helped Shadow keep up a lot easier. Either way though it was close and Sonic only barely arrived at the entrance to the garden before Shadow. Both were panting slightly but Sonic couldn’t help but smile at the happy look on Shadow’s face. Even if it was quickly replaced with a more neutral expression. “Shall we?” Sonic gestured widely to the garden. Shadow huffed fondly before walking past Sonic.

As soon as the two were far enough into the garden they were swarmed by most of the chao population there. Shadow in particular had always been a big hit with them. Tails thought it had something to do with how much chaos energy Shadow’s body naturally gave off, but Sonic liked to think it was because of how he treated them. Soon enough two chao in particular made their way through the crowd. Sonic happily pat the head of the chao he’d been raising, the dot above the blue creature swiftly changing into a heart. Sonic had to hold in his laugh as Shadow’s chao had decided to plop themself down on Shadow’s head. Though to be fair Shadow didn’t seem very phased by the decision.

Maybe today he could finally get Shadow to agree to take the two chao back with them. Of course Sonic didn’t want to rush the other hedgehog into doing anything, part of the reason he’d waited so long to make any sort of move with Shadow, but he knew the two chao missed the two of them when they left. Sonic could of course take his own home, but he didn’t want to separate them from Shadow’s. Eventually the chao all settled down and most wandered off to do various things.

“Wait here for a sec. I need to grab something.” Sonic placed his chao in front of Shadow. They reached up for him, a frown on their face. “And keep an eye on them so they don’t try to follow me.” Shadow nodded and Sonic sped off to another part of the garden. A part where he’d stashed some stuff earlier. He grinned as he pulled out a small wrapped package and basket. Thankfully it looked like none of the chao had found and messed with it. Just as quickly as he left he was back. Shadow watched him curiously as he placed down what he’d grabbed. At this point Shadow was sitting while their chao played with each other nearby.

Sonic sat down in front of him and held out the wrapped package, a gentle smile on his face. Shadow froze for a moment before carefully taking the package from Sonic. “What is it?” He carefully turned it over in his hands.

“Well, you’ll just have to open it and find out.” Sonic shrugged, smile morphing more into a grin as Shadow shot him an unimpressed look. “Trust me, you’ll like it.” Well he hoped Shadow liked it anyway. It was hard to figure out what the other hedgehog would even like since he almost never talked about anything he wanted. Sonic did his best with what he had though and honestly he thought he’d done pretty good with this one.

After a moment more of staring at the wrapped package, Shadow carefully drug a claw down the wrapping cutting it rather cleanly and peeled the paper away. He stared down at the newly exposed picture frame. It wasn’t anything fancy and the whole thing was small enough to be carried around if desired. A small smile graced Shadow’s face and Sonic knew he’d done good. The second one he was more worried about but hopefully the first one going over well was a good sign. “I always liked that picture of you, me, and Tails.” Sonic hummed. “Even though it wasn’t too long after I found you I think it was the first time I actually got you to smile. Even if it was more out of surprise than anything.” He chuckled as Shadow put the first frame aside. Sonic got a little concerned as the other hedgehog froze once the second frame was revealed.

Sonic knew this one would be a risk, but he liked to think he was reading Shadow’s feelings about this correctly. “How?” Shadow briefly looked up at him, and Sonic wasn’t sure how to read his expression at the moment.

“Me and Tails, uh mostly Tails, did some digging around. Mostly in places that would not be considered public.” Sonic shrugged nervously, grabbing the edge of his scarf to fiddle with. “It was hard since most of anything to do with… the Ark was wiped out but…” He weakly gestured to the frame that Shadow had gone back to staring at. “We managed to find that.”

The silence between them stretched on long enough that their chao had taken notice. Both of them wandered over to their owners and attempted to comfort them. As soon as Sonic was starting to really regret this whole thing Shadow spoke. “Maria…” He looked up at Sonic. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly shook his head, raising his hands instead. ‘Thank you.’ He signed. ‘This way I’ll never forget the one person who made my past bearable.’

All the tension abruptly bled out of Sonic’s body. Ok good, he had been reading things right. That was a relief. “You’re welcome Shads. I’m just glad you like it, heh.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Now then, how about we enjoy something to eat?”

Shadow placed the second frame aside and nodded. “I would like that.”

“So…” Sonic started from his position of leaning comfortably on top of Shadow’s head. “Do you think today is the day we take these little guys home?” Shadow was currently petting his chao and Sonic’s was hovering close to the duo.

Shadow hummed in contemplation. He glanced down at his chao, who glanced back at him happily. Much to his chao’s disappointment he pulled his hand away from their head. ‘Would they be happier to come with us then stay here with the others?’

Well that was progress, it wasn't an outright no this time. "Chao bond real close with their owners." Sonic smiled as his chao reached out for his hand. "Sure they like being around other chao but we're a plenty good substitute." He started to pet his chao's head. "Plus we can always bring them back to visit their friends."

Sonic watched quietly as Shadow's tail moved slowly through the grass. After a while of Sonic waiting and just enjoying their close proximity, a huge step up from Shadow hissing or growling at him whenever he got too close, Shadow nodded. Well nodded as best he could with Sonic there. "Alright." Shadow scratched behind his chao's ear. "I think I'm ready."

Well who would have thought? Sonic was happy not only for the chao, but for Shadow. It had been a long road to help Shadow undo the damage from his past, and they still had a long way to go. This was a good step though, it would be good for Shadow to have something else that loves him unconditionally. Carefully Sonic moved to hug Shadow, and was happy when the other hedgehog let it happen.

"We have to actually name them now you know." Sonic smiled even though Shadow wouldn't be able to see it.

"... I've never had to name anything before." Shadow frowned slightly.

"Just don't overthink it." Sonic squeezed Shadow briefly. "Just use whatever feels right."

"Do you have a name for yours?" Shadow asked, probably looking for an example.

"Course. I had a name picked out a while ago." Sonic turned to his chao which was watching him curiously. "I officially dub you Azure." The newly named Azure flew around in clear excitement before settling on Sonic's head.

"Azure huh?" Shadow hummed before a look of realization crossed his face. "Wait. Did you name them that because they're blue?"

"Heh… maybe." Sonic chuckled. "Still has a nice ring to it though."

"I suppose." Shadow sighed before looking intently at his own chao. “Gale.” He said after a while of what Sonic suspected was contemplation. Gale made happy noises as they grabbed one of Shadow’s hands with their two smaller ones.

“I think they like it.” Sonic removed his arms from around Shadow and stood up fully to stretch. “Is there a reason for the name or did it just come to you?” Shadow avoided his gaze and that only had Sonic even more curious. If he looked carefully enough he could make out a slight green flush to Shadow’s muzzle. Interesting. It took a lot for Shadow to get flustered. Now he had to know. “C’mon, you know I won’t judge you for whatever reason you have.”

Shadow quietly muttered something that Sonic couldn’t make out before turning to face him. “It’s because of you.” Sonic froze in surprise, mouth hanging open slightly and ears perked up. That had not been what he was expecting honestly, but he made him feel warm. Shadow sighed and raised his hands. ‘You have done a lot for me and I appreciate that. I figured this might be a suitable way to repay your kindness.’

Sonic reigned in his surprise and gave Shadow a wide smile. “I’m glad to know you think so highly of me, but you don’t have to try and repay me like that. Just getting to see you living your life is good enough for me.”

‘If you say so.’ Shadow shrugged before grabbing Gale. ‘The name stays either way.’

“Wouldn’t dream of trying to change your mind.” Sonic grabbed Azure before holding out a hand to help Shadow up. After a moment the other hedgehog took the offered hand. “Well what do you say, good first date?”

Shadow chuckled quietly as Gale flew up to land on his head. ‘The best I’ve ever been on.’

“Why thank yo-” Sonic blinked. “Wait a sec, you haven’t been on any other first dates.” He grinned.

‘It was still the best. I have no need for any others.’ Shadow hesitantly reached out his hand and Sonic happily took it.

“I’ll take that.” Sonic shrugged. “Now then, let’s head home.” It was a good day, and Sonic wouldn’t change a thing about it.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sonic au #ao3 link #shadow the hedgehog #sonadow #art #fanfiction #I'm gonna need to come up with a name for this au huh?#haha the au has a name now #lost and found au

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morsartis · 1 year

Text

Nightwing x Civilian!Reader

Warnings: None. Its fairly gen. No actual romance I just had this thought that made me laugh.

The sound of your living room window being forced open was what woke you. Heart hammering in your chest as your hand went to the baseball bat you kept tucked away by your bed. Years of living in Gotham had made you hypervigilant of what sounds your apartment made and where. You knew for a fact that your living room window had been locked and that the sound of snapping wood had to have been the frame being forced open. The window lock itself was flimsy and you had brought it up multiple times with the landlord only to be shrugged off. Now you weren’t sure whether to feel petrified or triumphant that your concerns had been justified. Throwing back the blankets you stood slowly and raised the bat as you began creeping towards the open bedroom door. Out in the hall everything was still pitch black and you cursed yourself for not at least checking the time on the alarm by your bed. Your late night intruder hadn’t bothered to close the window behind them and the pale light of the moon and soft glow of the streetlights below gave you just enough light to see. A figure had collapsed on your couch, a hand dangling from where it awkwardly cushioned a head. As you cautiously shuffled closer you could make out the reflective glow of blue along the fingers. Your poor heart nearly collapsed in relief when you realized it was Nightwing, the resident vigilante of Bludhaven.

When you had moved to Bludhaven a year ago you had assumed it would involve a lot less vigilante sightings than Gotham. Looking down at the battered and bruised figure of Nightwing sprawled across your couch you had to admit, this officially made Bludhaven weirder than Gotham. If only because in your years of living in Gotham you had never had a run in with the resident gaggle of vigilantes. Taking in his sweat soaked and disheveled curls, the half curl of his body that suggested a good amount of pain, and the way he was actually too big to fit on your admittedly small futon with how his legs dangled off the other end you sighed.

A bird was a bird you supposed, Gotham looked after its own and while you had abandoned your home for Bludhaven the Gothamite still inside of you insisted you had a duty to look after the local vigilante. Setting the bat against the back of the couch you walked gingerly towards the window to assess the damage. Like you feared the lock had been snapped in two and the sizable crack that ran along the wooden frame was enough to tell you it was busted. You’d be living with a busted open window for the next few weeks while you scrounged around for enough money to cover repairs. Not even bothering to close it and risk damaging it further, you turned back towards your uninvited houseguest to check his own damage. In the light cast from the window you could make out a dark purpling bruise along the side of his face spanning from his temple to his jaw. Wincing in sympathy you shuffled closer and began gently prodding at his ribs. When he didn’t immediately shoot up in pain you returned your attention to his face. His mask was still firmly in place and you were grateful for it. You did not want to get dragged into the nightly struggle. Hoping that the bruising along his face was the worst of his injuries you tried to think of what to do next. You did not want to know what or who had managed to do that to the man. Instead you reached over and began unfolding the blanket you kept on the back of the couch. His suit left little to the imagination and you didn’t think it had to be very warm in the night chill now that he wasn’t actively fighting for his life and the lives of others. You could admit that despite the fact he was injured he had a nice figure. But that wasn’t something you’d be bringing up. Like most people you’d seen and heard about Nightwing enough to know how the media loved to sexualize him. It had to be exhausting and you weren’t about to add to it. Gently laying the blanket over him you wondered if he’d been exhausted or simply lost consciousness. There was no way for you to check without waking him and you dreaded the thought enough you weren’t about to even attempt it. Scrubbing an exhausted hand over your face you turned towards the bathroom where you kept your medkit. Closing the door mostly behind you before flicking on the lights you caught sight of your haggard appearance. You were exhausted from work. The dark circles under your eyes were a badge and testament to your workload. You missed Gotham’s much cheaper rent. Back in Crime Alley you hadn’t had to work as much as you did now. Sure the area had been Crime Alley but rent was cheap and so long as you kept your head down no one had bothered you much. Nudging open the cabinet underneath the sink you collected the medkit and swiftly left the bathroom. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in thought. Setting the kit down on the coffee table in what you hoped was Nightwing’s line of sight, you next turned your attention to the kitchen. As if on autopilot you shuffled in and grabbed what you needed to make a couple of sandwiches. You worked in silence as you stacked them on a paper plate and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Like most people you had a few waters in the fridge more for looks than an actual drink. Taking them to the coffee table you set them down next to the medkit. Sweeping one last concerned gaze over the vigilante still passed out on your couch you took a deep breath. You had done everything you could and you had at least enough confidence to know he wouldn’t die on your couch if you left him be. Satisfied he wouldn’t die in his sleep you left Nightwing be as you shuffled on back to your room and the sweet siren’s call of your warm bed.

In the morning you awoke half convinced it was a dream garnered by too much Lifetime TV. Especially when you saw the bat sitting against the nightstand. It wasn’t until you sat up that you had a feeling it wasn’t a dream. Your medkit sat at the foot of the bed. A place you would never leave it. Wide awake with adrenaline you shot out of bed to check if Nightwing was alright. What greeted you was an empty living room, the blanket folded and placed where it always was, no food or water left on the coffee table. Your second clue that it hadn’t been a strange dream came when you wandered into your own bathroom. Condensation clung to your mirror and one of your towels was definitely missing. Looking around further showed that he’d clearly had a shower before he left and you wondered exactly how tired you had to have been not to hear the water running considering the only bathroom in your apartment was in your room. Shaking it off you brushed your teeth and wondered why Nightwing had felt so comfortable showering in your apartment with only a flimsy bathroom door between you. Was he just that confident in his ability to sense someone sneaking up on him? Not that you would have even attempted. There were certain boundaries even you wouldn’t push and going out of your way to learn someone’s secret identity was one of them. Not that you thought you’d even recognize him. Grabbing the keys to your mailbox and a dog treat you locked the apartment door behind you. Like every morning you were going down to the ground floor to grab yesterday’s mail. No vigilante was going to ruin your morning routine.

No matter how bizarre.

Your routine was something you shared with your neighbor directly above you. Though more specifically you shared the routine with his dog. Your neighbor usually went down at the same time as you did every morning to grab yesterday’s mail and take his adorable puppy for her morning walk. To say you adored that dog would be an understatement. She had the ability to happily and shamelessly distract and derail your thoughts every time you saw her. She was the sweetest, happiest, thing you had ever seen with her wiggling body and lolling tongue. Truth be told, of which you would never admit, you could pick Haley out of a line up before you could pick out her owner. It was incredibly embarrassing but there was really nothing about Dick that stood out to you other than his dog. Sure, he was an attractive man, as your other neighbors liked to gossip, but Haley had always had your full attention. You hadn’t even realized how long he’d been your neighbor until he’d gotten Haley. Your direct nextdoor neighbor had practically laughed herself to tears when you admitted it to her. Cackling about how of course you’d notice the puppy before Dick ‘sex on legs’ Grayson. Which you couldn’t even argue against.

As always Haley was sitting by Dick’s feet and promptly burst into happy wiggles and pants at the sight of you. Dick glanced up and then he smiled in greeting before going back to his mail, Haley’s leash draped loosely over an arm. Like always you smiled back before grabbing your mail, feeling Haley start pawing at your leg for her daily treat. Tucking the mail underneath your arm you knelt down to scratch Haley behind the ears.

“Hi there sweetheart.” You cooed cheerfully just like every morning since you’d seen her. She was soft, smelling vaguely of vanilla and oatmeal shampoo. “Did your daddy give you a bath?”

You thought you might have heard a huff of a laugh from the man in question but Haley had already zeroed in on the treat in your hand and had sat down with impatient squirming for her treat.

“You’ve got her trained quicker than I have.” Dick groaned when you handed her the dog biscuit. That made you laugh.

“I’m just happy you let me spoil her. She’s such a good girl.” You smiled and gave her one last scratch before straightening up.

“She’s the best.” Dick agreed mildly before yawning. Your gaze was sympathetic.

“Long night?” You asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Something like that.” You agreed unsure if you should admit to Nightwing stretched out on your couch in the wee hours of the morning. Or the fact he had apparently been comfortable enough to use your shower and steal one of your towels. Did that mean he was coming back? Or were you going to have to buy another towel?

“I better get going. You know how Haley gets when she can’t get her usual walk.” He told you with an affectionate eye roll. You laughed.

“I’d be cranky too if I couldn’t get in some exercise.” You teased, “Bye Haley.”

Haley yipped at you tail wagging as you wiggled your fingers at her.

“Have a safe walk.” You told Dick when you glanced back at him. He smiled.

“Yeah, thanks.”

You could feel his eyes watching you as you turned back towards the stairs and disappeared behind the door.

#Nightwing #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #I wrote this for the laughs #DC #oneshot for now #kinda implied he might have a thing for reader #but its not specified #bitewing #I love the dog she is best baby #if DC even ATTEMPTS to kill off Haley I will be lighting their offices on fire

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delimeful · 9 months

Text

taking the fall (6)

warnings: arguing, animal abuse/neglect mention, guilt

Bewilderingly, Roman was now in the possession of a sword.

He’d been dumbfounded when the demand had been accepted, so certain in requesting it that he’d finally found a hole in the too-good-to-be-true arrangement that Logan had been presenting.

It didn’t count as an actual deal, he had told himself. Obviously, the human wouldn’t actually give his captive a hand-crafted weapon, which meant he wasn’t planning on fulfilling his end of the deal.

Thus, Roman was under no obligation to stick to the terms, and could make his grand escape without besmirching his honor!

Just over a week later, there was a sword hilt in his hand and a considerable amount of screaming in his head.

Had he really just signed himself up for a heaping helping of Stockholm Syndrome, all for the sake of a sword?

… Admittedly, it was a really nice sword.

“How’s the balance?” asked Logan, who was doing that thing where he studiously avoided looking at Roman while also clearly wanting to look at Roman. “I’ve made display weapons for background scenery, but never anything functional, so I had less experience than I would have liked.”

Dazedly, Roman gripped the hilt with both hands and swung the blade through the air, finding that it was both light and maneuverable.

“I imagine you’ll be better able to test it out once you’ve recovered enough to stand,” Logan said. “In the meantime…,”

Roman tensed up as Logan briefly ducked away, already anticipating some horrifying trial he’d have to endure in exchange for the weapon. He should have asked for a printer, instead. No human knew how to even fix those, let alone build one.

In the next moment, the human had returned with a small cutting board, which he set next to Roman very slowly and carefully.

There was a cucumber on the board.

“You’ve lost me,” Roman announced, because even he couldn’t make himself believe that Logan was going to use a vegetable to beat him to death or something.

“While conducting my online research, I found that those creating unusual bladed weapons typically show off the sharpness of the blade by easily slicing very thin wedges of items such as this one,” Logan explained, eyes glittering with excitement. “I also assumed you’d want to test the sword on something other than air.”

Okay, so perhaps Roman had lightly misjudged the kind of nerd Logan was, what with all the crafting and complex physics calculations and exactly none of the expected scalpels and/or test tubes. Despite himself, it was becoming more and more believable that this encounter wouldn’t end with him as a lab rat.

Unable to resist the urge to slash at something, he turned as best he could without agitating his leg, hefted the blade up into the air, and brought it down upon the unfortunate vegetable at full force.

The sword impacted the cutting board with a thunk, having sliced the cucumber into two smaller pieces. Roman whistled, releasing the hilt to shake his hands out. “That is sharp.”

“Of course.” Logan hummed thoughtfully. “I was concerned that you might not have the angle required, but I suppose your superior upper body strength compensated for that quite nicely.”

Roman was torn between irritation that the nerd was still extrapolating far more than he should be about borrowerkind and gratification that at least someone was paying attention to his finely-honed physique. Unfortunately, he was coming to realize that it was actually fairly difficult to maintain frustration with someone who had just given him a sick sword.

“Well, I suppose even someone as gargantuan as you would have to notice muscles of this quality,” he boasted, flexing in example. “But don’t write that down anywhere.”

“I already agreed not to take any notes,” Logan responded with a mild frown, though his attention had been pointedly shifted to his desk workstation. “You seem very concerned about the possibility of your existence being recorded. Have you had negative encounters with humans in the past?”

“No, I haven’t. Not personally.” Borrowers who had ‘negative encounters’ with humans didn’t typically live to tell the tale, and those that did were forever changed. Roman lowered his arms slowly, disheartened by the grim reminder.

Logan had begun absently turning a half-completed miniature lamp over in his hands, brow furrowed with clear discontent at the brief answer.

Well. It wasn’t like the human hadn’t already figured out he lived in the walls.

“I’ve watched plenty of humans over the years,” Roman elaborated, staring down at his clenched fists. “I’ve seen the way they treat small creatures, or oddities, or things that can make them money. That’s telling enough.”

“...All of them?” Logan asked.

“Enough of them,” Roman bit out in response, and then remembered just who he was talking to. He glanced up with no little apprehension, and his hand slid back over to the hilt of his sword.

Logan wasn’t even looking at him, his expression creased in a way that seemed more contemplative than angry. Roman attempted to shake off the abrupt dread, with slight success.

So far, the human had done nothing but respect his wishes, he reminded himself. No matter how Roman had snapped or sassed over the past couple of days, there hadn’t been any change in the care Logan had provided. He still received the same amount of food at the same times, and his leg was still treated with the same precise, gentle care.

He still wouldn’t be giving away any secrets, of course, and he wouldn’t get lured into a false sense of security by something as simple as basic decency.

But Logan hadn’t yet done anything to earn his ire, regardless of the bad memories his questions had brought up.

Roman floundered for a change of subject, and his gaze landed on the tiny piece of furniture still delicately clasped between Logan’s fingers. “Why do you make those miniature sets, anyhow?”

Logan’s head jolted slightly, his gaze flickering over briefly in surprise at the abrupt question. “It’s– my job. It started as a hobby, but I have several different regular clients now that I make to-scale models for.”

“And this one is for a play, right?” he asked, trying and failing not to sound too interested.

“It is.” Logan nodded slowly, and his glance this time was more considering. “Why did you venture inside it?”

Against his will, Roman could feel his cheeks heat up slightly. “Well– That is– I happen to also be a… supporter of the arts. I had to make sure it was up to standard, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Logan echoed with a slight twitch of the lips. “And did you find it lacking?”

“Of course not!” Roman replied, affronted. “It was a remarkably well-done construction, and I found myself truly impressed by the level of detail I could see everywhere I looked. I’ve been in dollhouses before, you know, and none of them could begin to compare. There was nothing lacking about the experience.”

He paused, contemplatively. “Apart from the resulting broken leg, I suppose.”

Logan wore a pleased little smile, entirely distracted from their earlier conversation. Point to Roman.

“That’s excellent to hear. I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist at times, so it’s reassuring to get a second opinion before I drop it off,” Logan said, picking up some small pliers to carefully bend a piece of wire into place on the lamp.

“You haven’t dropped it off yet?” Roman couldn’t help the slight excitement in his tone.

“I was planning to take it this afternoon, actually,” Logan replied, and hesitated as Roman drooped. “I don’t suppose you’d want to explore it further before I leave?”

“Yes! I mean. Sure, that would be alright, I suppose.”

–

There was something enchanting about watching someone walk through a set that he had created with his own two hands.

Or, more accurately, roll through.

Concerned that crutches wouldn’t be maneuverable enough– and often needed specific sizing anyhow– Logan had taken apart a few old prototypes to put together a small knee walker scooter, one that Roman had taken to like a duck to water.

He was rolling through the bottom level now, investigating the kitchen scenery and finding that all of it could be interacted with, though of course it wasn’t functional to the point of having running water.

Though that did sound like a fun project… Perhaps something he could include in a suite for Roman to reside in while he recovered.

Unless that would give off the wrong message entirely. His visitor claimed to be familiar with dollhouses, after all. The last thing Logan wanted was for Roman to think he was being treated like a pet or toy instead of a person and a guest.

He’d let the matter lie, but their earlier discussion still lingered in the back of his mind.

He hadn’t understood why Roman had been so vehemently against receiving care at first, so visibly terrified of him underneath all his posturing. A phobia, he’d thought, or some recent traumatic and unsettling experience.

As it turned out, understanding the logistics of Roman’s existence wasn’t the same thing as understanding the reasoning behind his actions, or his thought process. It certainly wasn’t the same thing as living that existence.

Roman’s terror was far from baseless. Logan had been a fool for dismissing it as such.

Logan winced just remembering the research he’d done on the pet trade, both exotic and domestic, for a college paper. From ‘easy’ pets that survived in barely tenable conditions for a fraction of their normal lifespan, to ‘cute’ ones that were shown off like prizes and then abandoned once they grew larger or more difficult, living breathing beings were commodified because they were small and powerless to fight back.

Roman had witnessed such abuses directly, animals his size unintentionally terrified by unknowing children, tormented by troubled teenagers, or neglected by ignorant adults. Sure, he had a voice to protest, but he had no way of knowing if his words would be respected or even listened to.

The moment he’d been seen, he must have been assuming the worst case scenario, because it was both entirely possible and completely out of his control.

No wonder he’d been terrified.

“Hellooo, you still up there, Specs?” Roman’s voice jarred him from his thoughts.

He adjusted his glasses hurriedly, and leaned forward slightly in his seat to see Roman better. “My apologies, I didn’t hear you. Yes?”

Roman tilted his head slightly, dubious, but let the excuse go. “I was simply requesting a lift to the second floor, seeing as stairwells and wheels don’t typically mix well.”

Logan barely avoided gaping. “You want— I agreed not to touch you?”

“Right, right, but I’m allowing it this one time in a show of good faith,” Roman announced grandly. “And also because my leg hurts.”

“I— if you’re certain,” Logan replied, feeling a cold sweat break out along the back of his neck.

He couldn’t imagine why Roman was doing this— he could see the tension that was lining the tiny man’s shoulders— but he wouldn’t deny him.

After a moment to assess the situation, he finally lowered his hand into the room and curved it into a sharp angle, a silent offering.

Roman took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself, and then pushed himself up off of the scooter and twisted to seat himself on Logan’s hand, leg held deliberately aloft all the while.

“Ready?” Logan asked, trying not to get distracted by the astonishing sensation of carrying an entire person in one palm.

“Most certainly!” Roman answered, his fingers digging into Logan’s skin like a panicked cat’s claws as soon as he started moving.

Withdrawing as smoothly as possible, Logan carefully moved his cupped hand to rest against the front of his shoulder for a moment, wary of his tiny passenger losing his balance.

It was much easier to use his other hand to pull the scooter out as well, and he swiftly resettled it on the top floor.

“There,” he said, and leaned forward to reduce the amount of empty air he’d be moving Roman across.

Roman’s grip had eased slightly, though what Logan could feel of a tiny heartbeat suggested he still felt some level of panic. It was entirely rational; when Logan himself imagined being held over a proportional drop like this by someone else’s strength, he felt a bit of vertigo at the very idea.

He half-expected Roman to scramble off of his hand the moment it was over solid ground again, but his movements as he slid off and hefted his injured leg back onto the scooter were almost sedate, if a bit stiff.

“Thanks for the lift,” he said, only sounding the slightest bit breathless.

Logan simply nodded a few times, his own heart rate still a bit spiked from the stress. After a moment or two of watching Roman poke his nose into every nook and cranny of the upper balcony, the sensation eased.

Perhaps he hadn’t messed up too badly, if Roman was willing to put this much trust in him.

#ttf #taking the fall #sanders sides g/t #ts roman #ts logan #my writing #writing #borrowers

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wooahaes · 2 years

Text

lost & found

pairing: non-idol!vernon x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 6/13

word count: 2.1k

warnings: reader has a cat. lost cat happens twice. two idiots keep losing things. food mention. slight mention about being anxious about soulmates (but it’s less vernon and more other people in his life).

daisy’s notes: idk why but this one felt like a cute one for vern. also me being a messy bitch too i’d probs miss things too lmao (also sorry this ones kinda short!! i knew what i wanted to do with it and didn’t want to draw it out too long)

summary: Sometimes Vernon finds things in his room that are definitely not his. Most of the time he attributes them to Seungkwan, but when he loses a flash-drive with all his music and classwork… it’s just a coincidence it ends up in his classmate’s bag, right?

Vernon’s... admittedly more okay with the fact he doesn’t have a soulmate. He never felt anyone’s pain growing up, or heard someone singing, and all of his colors in his vision are completely intact. He didn’t have a name written on him like his parents did, or tasted whatever his soulmate would be eating, or have a date and time printed on his wrist like his sister did--ten more years before she met them, and he’d listened to her time and time again vent about how sometimes she’d look at it and realize how close it actually is in the scheme of things. He grew up listening to the gentle comfort toward him despite the indifference he’d grown into. It bothered him at first, sure, but in the end... What was the point of having a soulmate? Did people really think that finding that person would result in immediate love and marriage and babies or some shit? Vernon wanted to fall in love more... organically. Not with a person the universe pushed him towards, linking them together by some invisible bond. As romantic as a red string sounded (even if Wonwoo’s meeting with his soulmate wasn’t exactly romantic), he wanted to be in control over his own fate. He was happy for his friends finding their soulmates one by one (hell, he liked Seungkwan’s soulmate--they didn’t take that much shit, but it was admittedly a little sweet to see Seungkwan dote on them because they bumped into another goddamn chair a little too hard), but for him? He was okay without it.

Which was why he branched out a bit. He dated a few other people without soulmates, one of which did have a soulmate but didn’t have an obvious sign, and things never fully worked out. Call it destiny, call it choice, but something always seemed to go... a little wrong. Or maybe they just didn’t work out: Vernon was never completely sure whenever he tried to look back on it. He settled for making friends with people instead after a while, not wanting the stress of relationships. That’s ultimately what brought him to you.

Or, well, your cat was.

Vernon lived in the same apartment building as you. He’d met you once or twice, seen your roommate with their partner and their matching symbols, and that was that. Vernon also knew that you had a cat, because he’d sometimes see her sitting on your balcony when you were outside reading on lazy afternoons. She was this pretty calico cat with a bright blue jingle-bell collar, and she was always extremely vocal considering he’d heard her chirp and fuss at you and the baby voice you’d put on to talk back. Sometimes he’d stand outside and just... watch for a moment the way her eyes would widen when seeing birds fly past, or the way she’d sometimes look at him and he swore to god the cat was slow-blinking at him. She was cute. It kinda made him miss his own cat, but he didn’t have time to take care of a pet considering classes and work and having a social life.

Your cat ended up in his apartment. He never understood how, except he could see where he’d left the balcony door cracked open and it wasn’t impossible for her to have made her way across the ledges (just dangerous as hell) because maybe she got shut out. He came home one day before Seungkwan did and there she was: just sitting in the middle of his apartment like she owned the damn place.

“Hi?”

She slow-blinked at him and then meowed at him.

“How’d you get in here?”

She merely flicked her tail and then stood up, making her way over to brush against his legs while purring as loudly as she could.

“Okay...” He dropped his bag in the entryway, picking up the cat (and holy shit she was a little heavier than he thought) and cradling her in his arms. “You wanna go home?”

Another slow-blink.

He scratched her behind her ears, watching the way she happily closed her eyes. “... Yeahhh, let’s get you home before your owner freaks.”

When you asked him how he found her, he didn’t exactly have an answer. The two of you pieced together that balcony theory together, and then you asked if he was in the music program at your school. That was how the two of you realized you were classmates. Separate programs entirely, sure, but you thought you recognized him from being on campus. When you made a comment about hoping she wasn’t a hassle or that he and his roommate weren’t allergic, he cleared things up and admitted he kind of missed his own cat.

“Well, you can always come by if you want,” you giggled. “Nutmeg likes people.”

That was how the two of you started being friends. You confessed after a while that you didn’t have a soulmate, and that had helped the two of you bond a little more when you weren’t talking about music or movies. He liked hanging out with you (and Nutmeg, who always curled up in his lap, making you always mention that she was social but never this social). Sometimes you’d find his things in your room, sometimes he’d find yours, but it worked out fine. The two of you were around each other often enough that it made sense.

... Until he lost his USB with all his music on it. Not just his music: every single thing he had for his classes. Most of it was backed up on his email, sure, but he rarely put compositions or anything not-written there. Fuck, he took one gap year because he needed to get away from the stress and he was supposed to be more organized this time around. He grabbed his bag, calling out to Seungkwan that he was heading back up to campus. Maybe he left it in one of the computer labs when he was working, or in the music lab, or the other computer lab when he stopped in to chat with a friend...

He’d been in the library when you approached him. “Hey. It’s Hansol, right?”

Vernon looked up at you. “Did you already forget--”

“No, dumbass, I know you’re Vernon. You have “Chwe Hansol” written on all your school stuff, right?” You held up the USB, shaped like BB-8, and he sighed in relief. “Why didn’t you write “Vernon” on it?”

He took it from you immediately, thanking you. “One of my professors kept calling me Hansol because he’s this laidback dude and I just... never corrected him. So everyone just calls me Hansol.”

“Vernon.”

“Look, I tried like... twice but they always forgot.” He shoved the drive into his pocket. “C’mon. I owe you whatever you want.”

He didn’t tell you that you really saved his ass there, since he had big projects on that drive. He never thought he needed to: you saw how stressed he was. Vernon bought you your favorite smoothie as thanks, and parted ways with you afterward since he genuinely had shit that needed to get done. You sent him a picture of Nutmeg that night, curled up asleep on your bed on top of one of your textbooks. She was demanding you take a break. He smiled to himself.

Seungkwan asked him when he was going to ask you out. Vernon told him never because you didn’t like him like that. Even when he found one of your beaded bracelets, made for you by a close friend in his room one day. You hugged him tight for what felt like too long, mumbling something into his shoulder about how it meant a lot to you and that you seriously owed him. You were his friend. Of course he’d do anything to help you out, even if it meant searching as long as he needed to find something you lost.

The next time Nutmeg went missing, you were... really, really distressed. Vernon watched missing cat posters get put up, watched you go out looking for her while he was stuck working on important assignments he couldn’t give up too much time for. He looked with you when he could, sure, but most of the time you ended up with Seungkwan going with you--sometimes Seungkwan’s soulmate tagging along to look. He’d been sitting in the apartment alone, a fresh cup of ramen in his hands, when he heard the tiniest jingle and a muffled meow the moment he was about to put his headphones back on. He set the cup down, rising back out of his chair as he looked around.

“... Meg?”

Another meow, more distressed than before... and coming from his closet. He quickly made his way over, pulling it open before a very distressed kitty darted out and underneath his bed, making him mutter a “oh, shit--” as she disappeared underneath there. He made his way over quickly, shoving his chair out of the way so that he could lay down and watch her cower for a moment.

Shit. How long had she been in there...?

Then it didn’t make sense. If she had been in there the entire time, he would have known. Maybe she’d found her way into his room and jumped in... somehow... when he was changing last. It didn’t make sense, sure, but what else could it be?

He sat there, gently coaxing her to come back out before he called you. He sat on his bed, this ball of fur and fluff asleep in his arms despite the way she slightly trembled. You said you’d be there as soon as you could, and he watched the relief cross your face when you saw her again. You loved that damn cat and Vernon knew that.

You had knelt down in front of him, gently running your fingers across Nutmeg’s back. She opened her eyes and chirped at you, and he watched you smile at her. Then you looked up at him. “I owe you dinner.”

He nodded toward his cup of ramen. “I think I’ve got it covered--”

“Chwe.” You frowned. “I mean it. I’m gonna take Nutmeg home, but we’re going to get real food after this. You know how important she is to me.”

He wasn’t going to argue with you. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, then--”

You had patted down your pockets. “Shit. My wallet...”

And he could feel a weight in his own hoodie pocket. Vernon furrowed his brow, reaching into it before he felt his fingers come in contact with leather that.. definitely wasn’t there a minute ago.

“... Must have dropped it on the way up... I’ll go check the stairs--”

He pulled out the leather-bound wallet, and watched your eyes lit up.

“How the hell...”

“Isn’t that a sign?” He said. “Finding lost things?” He knew it was. He’d looked it up once with Soonyoung in a moment where neither wanted to admit they didn’t have soulmates. The subtle signs. The ones you didn’t think about first when you thought about having a soulmate. Like Jihoon’s.

Neither of you spoke again. All you did was rise up, leaning forward and letting him close that distance to be sure, and when he did you kissed him hard. Nutmeg leapt away the moment you drew closer, and he dropped your wallet onto the bed next to him in favor of touching you. All he knew in that moment was you and that every pining feeling for you he’d grown felt... right. Like it was always going to be you. Maybe that was what soulmates were supposed to feel like.

“We’re so stupid,” you mumbled against his lips, drawing back. “Literally how many times have I found your stuff in my apartment?”

“You said you were bad at cleaning!”

“That’s what you said too, dummy!” You gently smacked his thigh. You looked over to where Nutmeg had started making her way to his desk, and quickly scooped her up before she could try to get to his ramen. “She’s going home. We’re going out, so look decent, soulmate.” You smiled at him. “Alright?”

He smiled back at you, not caring that you had pushed his beanie off or messed with his hair. “Alright,” he promised. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. Hey, uh...” His eyes lit up a little, comment locked and loaded. “Don’t make me come find you, alright?”

You laughed softly at that. “Like you wouldn’t.”

He would. If you wanted to be found, he’d go looking for as long as it took.

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seventeen fluff #vernon x reader #vernon x you #chwe vernon x reader #chwe vernon x you #chwe hansol x reader #chwe hansol x you

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lavendertales · 1 year

Text

Ride—Biker!Javier AU**

An Unholy universe one-shot, post-Colombia

summary: Javier invites you to spend time with him and his family at the ranch back in Texas. Only for you to discover there is more to Javier than meets the eye.

word count: 4.1k

WARNINGS: horniness all around lmao (but also softness bc they’re in love your honor); blowjob, fingering, choking, piv (safe). 18+ ONLY!!!

gif: @user-din

series masterlist | AO3

Surviving Medellin and Bogota had been truly a blessing. But surviving Cali? Downright miraculous.

You and Javier had been living life on edge since the moment you stepped into Colombia, so it was nothing you hadn’t faced before. But Cali had been brutal. There were several close calls for you both, as well as the team, but on the bright side, you both celebrated the unlikely victory to the best of your abilities and possibilities.

But you’ve made a promise to yourself that if you managed to escape that hellhole and make a difference in the Colombians’ lives, you too would live more in the moment and enjoy every little detail that made up your life.

So when Javier told you that he planned to return to his family’s ranch in Texas, you didn’t really expect to be asked to go with him.

“Go with you as in… for a visit, right?” you felt the need to clarify the night he told you.

Javier frowned, slightly bemused at your hesitance.

“Why do you sound surprised?” he asked in return.

“That you want your college enemy to visit you in your hometown, the intimate space you grew up in? I don’t know. Maybe a little curious.”

“You’re not the first girl I brought home, don’t get all flustered and presumptuous.”

Your mouth almost ached with the question you wanted to pose next, even as playful and innocent as it might’ve been, but you did not want to raise his fight or flight risk.

“Wasn’t going to,” you replied instead.

“But if all goes well, you might be the last.”

You turned to him, truly shook to hear him complete the sentence, as if he was capable of reading your mind without you even hinting at what you were thinking.

“Sounded a bit Texas Chainsaw Massacre-y,” you tried to laugh.

Javier huffed, pulling you close to him and smiling down on you. “It’s not what I meant,” he cooed.

“So all I have to do is earn your family’s approval and then I’ll be set to remain Javier Peña’s—“

You fell deep in thought, mind racing all over the place, trying to figure out a way to finish that sentence without, again, scaring him or taking things too far.

“You can be whatever you want,” he told you, pecking your nose, “as long as you’re mine.”

“Well then. I guess we’re going back to Texas.”

And with that, you got everything you needed for the trip. Truth be told, you weren’t sure how long you’d stay. Javier said you were definitely welcome to be there indefinitely, but you felt like it would be some sort of imposition on his father’s privacy. It’s been two decades since you’ve last seen Chucho Peña, and you were, admittedly, anxious. Not because you were in any way, shape or form afraid of the man, but because you didn’t know how he would react once you’d show up there on Javier’s arm—as his girlfriend, no less. Last time he’d seen you, you were young Javi’s worst academic nightmare, so there was bound to be some anxiety regarding the visit.

But Javier reassured you time and time again and once you actually arrived at the ranch and gotten to salute those around, you realized you were perhaps fearful for nothing.

The ranch was beautiful; a massive construction, sprayed out on dozens of square meters, evidently taken care of, and horses, pigs and chickens in the wide backyard. Javier’s family was pretty numerous, which was a little intimidating for someone coming from a small circle of relatives. Within the span of one day, you got to meet two aunts, two uncles, several cousins—both distant and close—one great-grandmother and, of course, Javier’s father.

You were introduced as the girlfriend—nothing more, nothing less. Although that level of bluntness surprised you, even coming from Javier, you embraced it and smiled politely as you shook Chucho’s hand. Javier remained encased around you, seemly proud to have you by his side.

“Now it makes sense, why the two of you couldn’t stop complaining about each other back in college,” he laughed.

“It took us a long time to realize this,” you shared the laughter.

“I could’ve told you that years ago had you asked me. Matter of fact, I started telling this one that spending so much time talking about someone, in the way he did, that was no silly competition.”

Javier rolled his eyes, remaining quiet as he watched you and Chucho interact and feeling, quite possibly for the very first time since he was a kid, happy.

The next few days have been busy, but certainly a blast; you offered to help around the ranch, preparing lunches and dinners for the whole family. It seemed peculiar to feel so welcomed, so at home around Javier’s family, like you had finally found your place where you were supposed to be, but it was such a pleasant sensation, you wanted it to go on for as long as possible.

What was the most surprising, though, was how easily you bonded with Chucho. You found yourself entertaining various conversations with him over the smallest of tasks, chuckling at his stories about young Javier.

“He was a pretty quiet kid,” Chucho tells you in the kitchen while you’ve taken on the task of making sandwiches for everybody.

“He still is,” you smile. “Not the biggest fan of spoken words. He is really good with written ones, though.”

Your smile gets wider reminiscing of the heartfelt letter Javier had left on your nightstand years ago. The one that rests folded in your wallet, with you everywhere you go.

“When he got together with Lorraine, who was so talkative and open, I thought well, that’s bound to be a good match. But sure enough, with time, the illusion faded. Seems there was no real love there.”

You purse your lips together, focused on the sandwiches instead. You’ve heard the story of Javier and Lorraine before, you were more than familiar with it, but each time you were reminded of it, it still made you sad for the both of them.

“I do think they cared for each other in a way,” you retort. “It was probably just something comfortable.”

“It was. But even that began to feel unbearable. He’s different with you though.”

“How so?”

“He’s… calmer. More open.”

You’ve never actually given it a thought as to how you and Javier changed since you’ve gotten together. There were differences, to be sure, but so subtle to you, people who were used to living a high-paced life, in constant terror, that you might’ve missed them.

“Pops, we’ve been through this, please stop telling people stories of me when I was a kid,” a voice draws both your attention.

You take notice of Javier entering the kitchen, dirt and grease all over his clothes. He’s got what appears to be a fairly older shirt on him, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of tight jeans that you just fancy so much.

“Why, are you afraid I’ll get more dirt on you?” you ask cheekily.

“Who could you possibly tell in this town?”

You shrug. “I could just call Steve and Connie and exchange fun stories.”

Chucho hands him a towel, shaking his head in amusement; as Javier rubs his hands on it, Javier leans over to press a kiss to your cheek. You never saw him be a fan of PDA, nor would you have imagined him to be one. Truthfully, neither were you. But this? You could certainly live with little, sweet gestures like this.

“You’re filthy,” you remark with a certain playfulness in your voice.

Javier reaches for a tall glass of water and winks at you, the reference not passing by him.

“What have you been doing?”

“Cleaned out the garage. And worked a bit on the bike,” Javier clears.

“Oh yeah, forgot to tell you about the old gal,” Chucho chuckles. “Sorry, mijo.”

“It’s alright. I got her cleaned up a bit and I’m gonna rebuild the engine soon.”

“Bike as in… motorbike? Motorcycle?” you ask.

Javier sees the surprised look on your face, the way your brows are upped and that petite line on your forehead that only appears whenever you crinkle it, and he finds it oddly amusing.

“Yes,” he answers. “Had her for years.”

“Her?”

“Yes, her.”

“Should I be concerned? I mean, sounds like you two have a pretty close relationship. I don’t wanna be stepping on anybody’s toes here. Or pedals.”

Chucho puts some of the finished sandwiches on a big plate, leaning towards you. “I’d only be worried if he rides that thing without a helmet.”

You turn back towards Javier. “You’d better not.”

“I won’t.”

“Good boy.”

Javier shakes his head, trying to do everything in his power to not chuckle and smirk at you with all of his family around. But he starts to feel the tingle of being around you, the heat of the day and of his activities finally starting to wear him down, and the water couldn’t quench his thirst.

So he gives you one more telling look, and leans over the kitchen aisle to be closer to you as he says, “Do you want to come to the garage and check her out?”

Luckily you’re down to the last two sandwiches to make, so you rush through that process and place the rest of the batch on another big plate, serving them in the living room for those hungry and you take Javier’s hand as he guides you to the garage.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’re the kind of guy who likes motorcycles,” you tell him somewhat amused.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just never pictured that kind of side to you.”

“Let’s see if you get a clearer picture.”

Javier opens the door to the garage, unveiling several boxes to the side and something under a tarp.

“I’m guessing this is her,” you say, circling the now unveiled motorcycle.

“Yep. Rhonda.”

“Rhonda?”

This is half amusing, half arousing to you and it’s a fascinating combination.

“Yes, Rhonda,” Javier chuckles as well. “You know, cause—a Honda, Rhonda?”

“Yeah, I got that. Love how you brain makes analogies.”

“Hmm, really?”

He inches closer, licking his lips as he’s staring you down.

“Kinda like I associate the word ‘filthy’ with you?” he asks.

“Kind of.”

“Tell you what, how about after lunch, you and I go for a ride and later we can have some dessert?”

Your lips break into a flattered, insatiable smile as you nod at him, all too eager for someone who is usually so calm and collected.

“Sounds perfect.”

It was dead silent after you chugged that glass of water in the kitchen. You even kept the lights off so as to not wake the kids. You had to move swiftly and cautiously, just like you did back when you and Javier were nothing more but fuck buddies, claiming those sweaty encounters meant nothing.

But especially because Javier’s bedroom neighbored Chucho’s. And the last thing either of you needed was his father hearing you two going at it. Though it might come with difficulty, knowing you couldn’t really keep sounds to yourself when it came to Javier’s pleasuring skills.

“Thought I heard someone in here.”

You widen your eyes in slight panic as Chucho appears in the frame. You flash a flustered smile as you try to act inconspicuous.

“I was a bit thirsty,” you apologize. “I hope I didn’t wake you, I know it’s pretty late.”

“Nothin’ to worry about, mija. I was about to go to sleep. But I got to thinking, the holidays are right around the corner. We’d love to have you around for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

Your eyes widen again, this time in utter surprise. You hadn’t expected such an invitation, and certainly not in that moment.

“Oh! Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

“You can bring up your folks if you’d like to. There’s plenty of us to go around, what’s a few more?”

You exchange laughter with him, feeling a little embarrassed. “Actually, it’s just me. I never had a big family, and… it’s just me now.”

“Well, what happened to your folks?”

You hesitate, realizing that Javier probably didn’t share the tale of your mother, much less your father, but on the one hand you are more than thankful for that.

Chucho glares at you, noticing your facial expression and realizing he might’ve overstepped. He then grabs both your shoulders, smiling at you as he pulls you in for a hug. “We’re here for you if you want. You’re not alone.”

Head resting on his shoulder, you tear up, rummaging the kind words that have just been said to you. The thought of entering a big family, feeling welcomed and cared for and appreciated, it’s making you more emotional than you would’ve anticipated.

“Thank you,” you whisper, pulling yourself together.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For bringing back my son to me.”

You blush, tapping his shoulder playfully. “Stop it or else I’m gonna cry.”

“My apologies, mija. Goodnight.”

You watch Chucho leave the kitchen, the warm and tingly feeling expanding to your extremities. The afternoon’s events are still freshly imprinted on your mind and you’d much rather focus on that than remaining emotional.

Seeing Javier work on his motorcycle, then riding it expertly and flawlessly certainly woke your appetite in ways you considered inconceivable till then. It was true that you hadn’t pegged him as the type of guy who’d drive across states on a bike, all leathered up, stopping for a burger and conversation with other riders, and then hitting the road again, but it sure was a pleasant surprise.

You enter Javier’s bedroom silently, much like a cat ready to pounce on its prey, closing the door gently behind you. Javier is looking out through the window, the moonlight being the only light present.

“Hey,” you whisper sweetly.

He turns, and you notice a bright smile on his face as he approaches you. “Thought you’d never come back to me.”

“Didn’t I always?”

He wraps his arms around you, caressing your back. “You do,” he admits. “It never fails to surprise me.”

“Why?”

“Cause you stayed. In spite of… everything.”

Something about that statement makes your heart ache. You know Javier’s often felt more lonesome than he liked to show, and that you can understand all too well. However, you appreciate the fact that he’s opening up to you more and more.

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice. You know too much about me, you’ve seen me naked… ate food off of me naked… I have to keep you around,” you joke.

And luckily it works; Javier chuckles, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“If you brought some whipped cream from the kitchen, we could do that again,” he teases you.

“I didn’t, unfortunately. But I ran into your dad.”

Javier frowns, pressing pause on caressing your skin beneath the shirt. “Okay…?”

“He invited me here for the holidays.”

“Oh. That’s great. You really hit it off with the family.”

You smile widely. “I’m a delight, of course I did.”

“My great-grandma already asked me, not-so-subtly, when we’re getting married.”

You chuckle, holding him still close to your body.

“And when we’re having kids,” he continues. “Not if. When. You know, no pressure or anything.”

“She’s a sweet lady, give her a break.”

“I forgot how crazy it gets with all of them around. I feel like I need a break from them too.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Hmm, I think someone mentioned something about dessert?”

You smile at one another, eager hands roaming on clothed skin.

“I think you might be right,” you coo.

“But we should be quiet.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“You have to be quiet.”

“Oh, there’s that biker attitude I heard so much about.”

When his lips press on yours, you melt instantly. It’s then that you realize, with all the family meetings and preparations around, the two of you haven’t had some alone time in weeks. Your hands drop to his zipper, swiftly working against it to remove the jeans standing in his pleasure’s way. As you broke the kiss to ensure more visibility for your wicked mission, Javier smiles at you, already out of breath, and presses his index against his lips to signal you to remain quiet.

“I’m more worried about you being quiet right now,” you slyly tell him.

You guided him towards the bed as Javier laid on it, his legs dangling off the bed. You peppered a trail of wet, hot kisses from his mouth to his cheeks, jaw and neck. Javier was quick to remove his shirt as you teased his happy trail as you palmed him through his underwear, earning a few low grunts from him. When you look up, you notice his gorgeously fucked out face, and you barely touched him yet. But you reckon it’s been a while for you both, so perhaps he was a little more sensitive than usual.

You decide you shouldn’t waste any more time, so you free his erection from the cotton fabric and immediately take him in your mouth, lathering the tip with your tongue. Javier exhales, hardly in control, but forcing himself to remain steady. One loud sound and you’re both done for.

He lets out a throated moan, too coarse for the sound to be properly dispersed throughout the room; one of his hands grip the sheets, the other grips your hair, fisting it in order to not let out any louder noises.

There’s nothing gently about the way you’re sucking him off, and he wouldn’t wanna have it any other way. If all this is because you saw him fix a motorcycle and then go for a ride with him, then he definitely ought to be doing that more.

You feel yourself getting wetter with each additional flick of your tongue against his throbbing cock, and each bop of your head another reminder that your whole body is aching for him, badly. But you do the work, happily, taking him in however much you can, stroking the base of his cock at the same time, enjoying the throaty noises Javier is releasing.

He doesn’t want to cum, not yet anyway; it feels like months since the two of you had any chance to bring pleasure to one another, so he wants to do this just right. Coming down your throat will have to be for another time.

So he fists your hair harder, nearly yanking it so that you release him from your mouth, and you stare at him bewildered. In one swift move, you wake up underneath Javier’s body as he’s kissing his way down your body, struggling to remove your pajamas.

The moment you are bare before him, Javier lays you on your back fully, legs spread for him. He feels an aching hunger to taste you, to make you fall apart in his mouth, and he too decides he doesn’t want to waste any time.

“Are you gonna be quiet?” he asks.

“You know I can’t really do that when you go down on me.”

“Fine. I won’t go down on you then.”

And suddenly he has his finger inside of you, curling daringly and boldly, testing the waters. When you arch your back, fighting back insatiable moans from the burns of your body, inside and out, Javier knows he has your approval, so he pushes in another digit. He’s pumping in and out faster and faster, all the while messily kissing your jaw and lips, taking great pride and joy in the sounds you make and the way they trigger that possessive side of him.

“You really liked my motorcycle this much, baby?” he teases.

“Mhm—“

“Do you really want me this much?”

“Yes, how many times do I have to tell you—“

Smiling in a deviled ecstasy, Javier presses one last kiss on your lips before pulling out, not giving you any chance to reach your climax. Disappointed, you watch in awe as Javier takes the two fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, releasing a grunted mhhmm that nearly has your head spinning.

“No, whyyy?” you whine.

“Cause we both need more than this.”

You can’t argue against that; your breaths get ragged watching him in the moonlight reaching inside the drawer and hastily place the condom on his erection. You spread your legs further, Javier’s mouth nearly watering as he’s jerking the base of his cock, readying himself.

He holds you by the hips as he pushes inside you. The way he slides with ease through your walls, your arousal coating his cock and sending shivers throughout his entire body, it can easily be described as heaven. Maybe it’s the happiness Javier feels knowing his whole family has fallen in love with you just as much as he had, or perhaps it’s the fact that you probably shouldn’t be doing this with the whole family roaming around—especially Chucho right in the next room—but every feeling is amplified; it’s the sweetest, most intoxicating and insatiable poison he has ever had the luxury of tasting.

“Javi—“

“Shhh, we can’t make any sound—“

You nod desperately, feeling Javier’s hips snapping inside you with fervor and speed, clearly chasing both your orgasms. It sure feels sweet and tender, but it carries no shortage of that fiery passion and roughness that brought you together in the first place.

You’re mewling and cooing, biting your lips till they bled so you keep sounds to yourself. Your hand reaches at the back of his neck to pull him down for a sloppy kiss, and in return, Javier’s hand curls around your neck and applies just the right amount of pressure, simultaneously picking up the pace.

“F-Fuck—fuck, I love you—“Javier whispers with a little grunt.

His thrust get sloppier, just as the previous kiss did, and faster as well, and you can tell he’s close, but so are you. It has been a while, you remind yourself.

“I love you too,” you whisper fleetingly.

“Mhm—look at me, please… please.”

He sounds utterly broken, in a complete need for you, and you couldn’t love that more. His hand still around your throat like a necklace, you reach to grab both his shoulders, holding onto them as he pushes himself inside you as fast as he can, and mere seconds later, you feel his muscles tighten under your touch, his body shaking as he stops, riding out his orgasm. You reach to play with your clit, still feeling him throbbing inside you, and Javier gathers whatever strength he has left to thrust again, helping you reach your orgasm.

And you do. When it washes you over, drowning you in pleasure and love and warmth, Javier’s hand is over your mouth to prevent you from screaming. He leans down with his whole body, so much so that he’s fully sheathed in you and his cock nearly hits your cervix, and kisses you tenderly, waiting for you to settle down.

Then you bite his lower lip, rubbing your nose against his.

“Better each time we practice, huh?” he smiles.

“We sure are,” you agree.

He’s barely moving inside you, just enough to let you feel him close, as intimately as possible.

“I’m pretty impressed you actually kept it quiet,” he tells you coyly.

You jokingly slap him away, and just then he pulls out, getting rid of the condom and bringing a wet towel for you.

“So. The holidays. What do you think?”

You raise your eyebrows at him, pleasantly surprised again.

“It’s not like I have other plans, so… I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“After everything we’ve done and been through, we might actually have to stick together just to prevent some stuff from coming out.”

You chuckle, resting on his chest underneath the covers. It’s silent and peaceful, serene in its simple way of simply being, unlike the lives you’ve led for the past few years. It feels rewarding, too. Like you finally get to rest.

“I’ll be here,” you tell him reassuringly.

“Good. Cause my great-grandma likes to cook for the whole town, so we’ll need all the help we can get.”

You peck his cheek, cuddling up closer to him. “Do you think we can go on another ride tomorrow?”

“You wanna go out there with Rhonda again?”

“Well, if we’re gonna be in a threeway, best her than someone else.”

This time Javier chuckles, an earthy, healthy sound that tickles your ears. If anything, you’re just glad you can bring Javier some serenity after all that time.

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