#like it's just an open secret . but it's fine because he likes the trains
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So because someone (@theblabarmy hope it's ok to tag) wanted to know. Um. I should make a self indulgent post about my brainchild on this blog. I guess. I have a side blog for her/sso related stuff (@vilda-ravenhill) but still. Hey.
So to preface Star Stable Online is an open world mmorpg about being the Chosen One horse girl who has to fight the bad guys. It's badly written but unfortunately really well concept'd. Got some good art direction. About half the character designs are ass and the other half are genius. Sometimes for the wrong reasons. The gameplay is fine. The fandom does nothing but complain and the creators are so sensitive that they keep listening to bad complaints just because they sound angry. It's got one hundred thousand lore retcons. There are books. The book lore doesn't match the game lore. It's a weird game. I've loved it since I was in like fourth grade and trying to survive being bullied so it's definitely special to me anyway ok more under cut this is long
It gets weird when it comes to the plot though. Cus, well basically it's like this: the whole plot takes place on a fictional island called Jorvik. Somewhere between Norway and England. Its its own country. Its rural and there's like one mall on the whole island. And on this island there are druids that know like actual nature magic and shit? And there's a nature goddess called Aideen, and she has a prophecy that four girls and four horses, called the Soul Riders, are gonna save the world or whatever. These Riders change with time when they get old and die and have to find new ones, but the Soul Horses reincarnate for some reason? Like they can remember their past lives and shit.
So there's this hippy nature cult around Aideen where some of the druids are devoted specifically to her and to training/protecting the Soul Riders, and they're called the Keepers of Aideen, okay. And each Soul Rider has a unique power with it's own symbol so there's like the Star rider the Sun rider etc and they do different things.
But as it turns out there's a secret second prophecy that says there's a FIFTH rider who's like super duper important and knows all FOUR magic circles and that's the player character. Who. Turns out. Is also reincarnating? Like you meet your own previous reincarnation in game and it's the dead mother of a character you already know. Star Stable is bad until it suddenly makes a U turn and does something really clever and there's so much potential and that's what drives me insane.
And there's also this other dimension called Pandoria? And it's got people in it too but Pandorians can't survive on earth because they're dearly allergic to time, yes, literally to time, and humans who stay in Pandoria for too long get very sick and their magical ability goes haywire. There's a pandorian on Jorvik who has created a bubble where time doesn't exist, and he just hangs out and occasionally tries to kill you.
There's also an in between void dimension full of literally nothing that you have to go through to get to Pandoria. Like it's The Void it's The Nothing it's The Fog. There are these magical trees that grow on Jorvik but that reach all the way into Pandoria through The Void and they've got a whole root system there. You can apparently get lost in The Void and never return. It's actual Limbo and it just hangs out there.
Oh and lets not forget the evil counter-cult masquerading as an equally evil oil company (sso has an environmentalist message) that have four DARK RIDERS and DARK HORSES and DARK EVIL VERSIONS OF THE GOOD MAGIC like Dark Sun and Dark Star I shit you not, and they worship an evil chaos god called Garnok who is Literally Just Cthulhu, and their leader is a little too into it for some reason, and also witches exist and they're sometimes evil sometimes not but also they're always evil but that got retconned because star stable is not a good game and keeps contradicting itself and never does anything with its potential or characters or story because it's bad okay holy shit Tumblr doesn't like it when I write this much text hold on I'm gonna continue in a reblog
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ouuguuh … it would be cool if lik (going off the tags of this post) … there was a story reason as for why all the pokemon are attracted to the gear station :3 maybe theres a super ancient pokemon beneath (or somethinng similar IDK ! THEY GOT XURXITREE HOOKED UP TO THE WIRES annd its lik ghost stories lik Oooh theres emptty trains ! and spice is lik Thats not me doing it .) like its SOMETHING tahts drawing them there , whether it be another pokemon or some sort of life force or energy
THOUGHTS .... Okay giratina specifically loves trains for whatever reason and starts hanging around railyards as soon as they get invented and protects the trains from harm, seeing them as part of it's 'hoard.' Even though it's ??? weird at first the railroad workers eventually just accept Giratina's presence since it's not harming the rails or anything and it eventually becomes kindof the patron saint of trains, later becoming an influence for the design of some trains and Giratinism kindof just becomes a slightly ironic tradition for railway workers .
--> Giratina eventually hibernates in an abandoned tunnel in gear station (possibly unbeknownst to Ingo & Emmet) which attracts a lot of various types of pokemon to the area . Some of which start working at the station
#mailbox#hoof draws#submas#[ingo voice] why did you think i have a chandelure#going with this from now on ....#i think funniest option is ingo & emmet KNOW the pokemon equivalent of an all-powerful demon king is asleep under the station#like it's just an open secret . but it's fine because he likes the trains#<-elesa thinks they're fucking with her and starts asking every depot agent she sees and they're all like ? oh yeah giratina#yeah he lives in the maintenance tunnel :]
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Cassian is a Nosy Busybody Who Can’t Keep to Himself
Summary: Cassian knows Azriel is seeing someone, but he keeps denying it and Cassian is determined to find out who he’s seeing
Author’s note: my personal headcanon is that Cassian is EXTREMELY nosy and loves knowing everyone’s personal business 💕 He’s just like me 💕
Azriel was seeing someone, Cassian was sure of it. The others think he’s being a bit too obsessed with the shadowsinger, but Cassian has a gut feeling that Az is seeing someone and purposefully hiding them.
Over the years, they’ve all had lovers and flings that they kept to themselves, mostly because they didn’t matter much and were casual, short-term things. This time feels different. Cassian thinks Az has been seeing someone secretly for months.
Az seems happier, he seems more reluctant to stay out drinking, he even delegated assignments that were “too long” to others.
Cassian needs to know who this fae is and whether or not they’re good enough for his beloved brother.
Unfortunately for Cassian, Azriel is the night court’s spymaster. He can’t exactly follow him around. He’s tried it. Azriel just maneuvered in and out of random shops, making Cassian go insane trying to find him.
He has concocted what he thinks is the perfect plan.
-
Cassian slept on the floor below Azriel’s. No one wanted to share a floor with Cassian because he “snores too loudly” or whatever they tell him. Fine by him, he gets an entire floor to himself.
The past few nights Cassian has been staying in one of the other rooms on his floor - the room directly underneath Azriel’s. He’s been staying up to see if he can hear any noises coming from above.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, he hardly heard anything last night, except what he had convinced himself was two pairs of footsteps at one point. He decides it’s now or never when he wakes up, racing up the stairs to Azriel’s floor. He knows he has to be quick - his stupid brother’s stupid shadows alert him to any disturbance, so the time is now.
Cassian runs to Az’s room, takes a split second to catch his breath, then shoves the door open, finding Azriel waking up in bed. And a mysterious shape next to him under the covers.
“Cassian,” Azriel states, “what in the Cauldron are you doing here?”
Cassian can’t take his eyes off the shape under the covers, but he realizes if he wants to find out more, he has to keep his true intentions of coming a secret.
“Well I could ask you the same.”
Mother boil him, that was definitely not the right response.
“This is, in fact, my room. If you come by after lunch I’ll provide you with a tour.”
At that, Cassian begins to look around the room more, noticing mugs on the twin nightstands that surround Azriel’s bed. On the nightstand closer to the amorphous blob under the covers, was a stack of four books, one of which looks very familiar.
“Azriel, I didn’t know you could read.” Cassian states, trying to rile something of the shadowsinger.
“Piss off, Cassian. Of course I can read - it’s you who everyone thinks is illiterate.” Azriel was getting more and more annoyed by this intrusion, worried about if you were still asleep by his side or awake for this. He had just enough time before Cassian plowed down the door to cover you with his duvet.
“This book looks familiar. Isn’t it (y/n)’s? She’s going to kill you if you get ring marks on her book. She almost filleted me alive when I bent one of the pages of a book before.”
At hearing your name, you stirred just a tiny bit, both Illyrians going still at your movement.
Cassian looks down the bed, seeing your foot jutting out from under the covers.
“Az, I never knew you had such small, pale feet.”
“I hide them in my shoes, stop looking at my feet you weirdo. Why exactly are you here again?”
Cassian cannot come up with a good enough lie for why he was there. The room is silent, until he decides on, “You’ve been sleeping in too much recently - wanted to make sure you were coming to training today.”
Azriel narrowed his eyes, seeing right through the lie. “Cassian, training is in 2 hours.”
“Well, I know you like having time to eat breakfast and wake up before training, so I’ll just help you pull the covers off-“
Cassian reached for the duvet, and Azriel grabbed Cassian’s hand, squeezing it so tightly, the general was afraid he’d lose circulation.
“Don’t you dare do that.”
And Cassian has the upper hand.
“And, pray tell Az, why not?”
The blanket begins to shift, and a hand comes out from under the blanket, pulling the blanket down just enough for your messy hair and your eyes to be seen by Cassian.
“Because it’s really cold outside of the blanket.”
Cassian was gobsmacked. His jaw literally dropped, and he kept pointing between the two of you, going “you.. and you!”
He heard you giggle underneath the blanket. “Yes, Cassian.”
Cassian, still shocked at this revelation, could only think to ask “Was last night the first time?”
“Not that my sexual endeavors require your knowledge, Cas, but we’ve been seeing each other for about 8 months now.” Azriel remarks, a smirk growing on his face.
“EIGHT MONTHS?!” Cassian bellows, “you’ve been sleeping around for 8 months and DIDN’T TELL ME UNTIL TODAY?”
You had never seen Cassian so upset before.
“Well,” you say, “at first we wanted it to be a secret from everyone, because you all are so nosy,” at which Azriel makes a pointed face at Cassian, “and then a few months ago we thought it would be funny to see how long before everyone found out so we started being a bit less secretive.”
Cassian begins thinking back to the past few months. He recalls going to Rita’s with everyone one night, and in his drunken haze he swore he saw you nestled into Azriel’s side while everyone else was dancing, but he chalked it up to drunken lenses. There was another day where you were just coated in Azriel’s scent, but he chalked it up to the flight the two of you embarked on earlier that day.
“That’s why for a few months neither of you would come out drinking with us!”
You both nodded.
“Oh gods, I can’t wait to tell everyone - RHYS!” He starts screeching for Rhys, who winnows in very quickly, looking very pleased with himself.
“Yes, Cas?” Rhys smirked, knowing where this was headed, and very excited to watch the outcome.
“Look! Him! And-and her! For MONTHS!” Cassian says, pointing at the two of you still in bed.
“Yes Cassian, I know.”
Cassian turns to his brother, “they’ve been hiding it for months, the b- what do you mean you know?”
“I know.” Rhys says, his smirk taking up most of his face.
“How’d you find out?”
“I woke up in the middle of the night wanting cookies and I found them making out in the kitchen.” You slowly sink back under the covers a little in embarrassment, remembering Rhys making his presence known with a quiet cough as you were kissing Azriel in the kitchen. The shit-eating grin on his face as he asked “midnight snack?” is one you won’t forget.
“Wait, does anyone else know?” Cas asks, putting his hands on his hips in indignation.
Rhys puts his hand on Cassian’s shoulders. “Everyone else knows, you were the last to find out.”
The look Cassian gave was pure offense. He had never felt so offended in his life! Being the last to know about you and Azriel. He loved both of you dearly, and he felt a little offended you didn’t want to tell him.
“Cassian,” you say, as if you also possessed the gifts to read minds that Rhysand does, “we love you, we just know how much you love finding things out, so we thought you’d love to snoop around and find out. If I weren’t naked under this blanket, I’d come hug you.”
Cassian gives you a suggestive look and winks, causing Azriel’s wings to wrap around you in a cocoon.
“Now that everyone knows, can you both please leave us alone?” He huffs, wrapping his arms around you as well.
“Does Rita know?” Cassian asks, acting oblivious to you two clearly wanting this public spectacle done with.
“No, she doesn’t” you say, peaking your eyes out over one of Az’s wings.
With that, Cassian bustles out the door, excitement coursing through his veins.
“He’s like a dog with a bone,” you laugh, “he’s precious.”
“You two do know he’s going to tell all of Velaris right?” Rhys says, reaching to close the door.
“Aww let him have it, he’s just excited.” You say, nuzzling into Azriel’s chest as Rhys shuts the door.
Walking through the streets of Velaris later, Cassian truly made the rounds telling everyone, with people offering you congratulations and happy tidings on your relationship. Azriel wasn’t very fond of everyone knowing, but he found it incredibly sweet how happy they all were for the two of you.
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Happy new Year! I wanted to request an Reader with healing powers by touching,healing the boys of Mortal Kombat pls?
author note: Thanks! Happy new Year to you too!! As someone studying to become a doctor this request is a little to perfect LOL. feat. Earthrealm guys for my own sanity this time, but if you want you can also ask for Outworld ones.
Johnny Cage:
-He doesn't believe in your powers AT ALL.
-I'm not saying Johnny can't wait to hurt himself, because pain sucks, but he may get a bit careless…
-He's gonna cut his finger with paper, the most stupid wound that sting like a bitch.
-He visits you, you don't laugh at him, just touch his index with yours and…voilà! No wounds anymore.
-He is stunned, mouth open. You absolutely need to come to Hollywood and let people pay, you know how rich you can get??
-Johnny will be attached to your hips, wounds or not. If he can't get you out your clinic he wants at least a date with the cute doctor.
Kenshi Takahashi:
-He visited you after the Mileena accident.
-Sadly you can't regrow new eyes, being able to heal just from tissue that is alive.
-That doesn't mean you can't help him soothing his pain! Or decrease the itch he feels from the skin that grew there.
-Kenshi visits you frequently, not just for medical reasons but also to share a cup of tea together, your chats a relaxing moment during frenzy times.
Raiden:
-He doesn't visit you often, but when Raiden does he has a kind voice, even with broken bones and teared skin.
-Luckily most of the time Raiden wounds aren't that serious, but he tends to prolong his stay in your clinic.
-At times he felt asleep on the bed, heavy breath and some times snores.
-He is so cute you never wake him up, but pulling a cover on his body to keep him warm and comfortable.
Kung Lao:
-He has never been proud of the wounds and scar that he has, but at least now Lao can see the positive side of the bruises; visiting you.
-You don't say he is dumb, and treats him with utmost care, your soft fingers on his skin make his heartrate speed up terribly.
-Lao hopes you don't notice, hiding his real emotions under puns and flirty jokes.
-You can totally feel Lao's heart, but find him cute, trying to sputter out puns to make you laugh, so you let him act.
Liu Kang:
-He asked you to help at Wu Shi Academy because he knew about your powers.
-Liu Kang made sure you had a tiny house of your own, separated from training grounds, but near enough to run to you in case of emergency.
-He doesn't suffer of any injury, but he often visits you to ask if you are fine, just chit chatting about your days.
-Every time Liu Kang visits you he brings a present, each time it gets more expensive. Maybe one day you'll pick up the signals, or maybe you could heal his broken courage; it has been awhile since Liu Kang asked someone out.
Geras:
-He also doesn't need any kind of healing, but when someone is wounded he runs to you.
-Most of the time you talk about work, you tried to pry informations about the you of other timelines but Geras never budges.
-So you started to gossip with him, useless stuff, but you know he'll never tell the secrets out.
-He listens to you, already knowing everything, but Geras enjoys your company so he sits still, your voice almost lulling him.
Bi-Han:
-Doesn't trust you, he has never heard of healing magic.
-But there you are, on your knees, him laying on the ground, your fingers repairing every cut, every wounds on his body with a mere touch.
-Bi-Han starts to visit you more often, he wants to know your secret, the Lin Kuei's doctors could only improve with your guide.
-You laugh at his proposal, telling him this is a gift you have since you were born and that you prefer your magic to be of everyone usage, not only his ninjas.
-He scowls and exits your house. But Bi-Han won't give up, he'll convince you one day, he is sure of it.
Kuai Liang:
-He doesn't have the time to have doubts about your powers because the first time Liang heard of you is the time you are healing him.
-Now it is too late to heal his face scar, but for sure you can help him with his other wounds.
-Liang begs you to join Shirai Ryu, but you refuse "You are good people, but my power is for everybody, not just your clan."
-He accepts it…and trasfer Shirai Ryu base near your house, enough that if his men needs help you'll be right there.
-And maybe Liang would be able to visit you not only for work matters…
Tomas Vrbada:
-He visits you mostly because everybody is talking about your powers.
-Tomas brings food, while you prepare a hot beverage for you two. You chat about your days, 'till Tomas finally asks you the question that has been wandering in his head for too long.
-"So, are your powers real?"
-You smirk into the cup, but don't reply. You take a knife and do a small cut on the back of your hand, you are so fast that Tomas cannot stop you.
-He cannot also because the moment a drop of blood spill the wound has already healed itself.
-Tomas is astonished, wide eyes.
-"You are so damn cool."
-You hope he'll visit you more often, you enjoys his company. Let's hope Tomas will never come for working matters, tho.
#mk x reader#mk1 x reader#mortal kombat x reader#mk headcanons#mk1 headcanons#mortal kombat headcanons#johnny cage#johnny cage x reader#kenshi takahashi#kenshi takashi x reader#mk1 raiden#raiden x reader#kung lao#kung lao x reader#liu kang#liu kang x reader#geras#geras x reader#bi han#bi han x reader#kuai liang x reader#kuai liang#tomas vrbada#tomas x reader#mk1 smoke#smoke x reader
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How about a 1016 miles x fem reader where his mom catches them kissing in his room 😭😭 I feel Rio would not play
Caught Red Handed
Characters: 1610!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff & slight Angst
Summary: (Requested) Thanks beautiful ♥️
Warnings: awkwardness, snooping parents, Rio’s rage
A/N: Omg Rio would never play like that. I think it took a lot of convincing for you and Miles to be in the same room. Welp that's gone now. Also for my own peace of mind, Miles and Reader is 16+
You loved kissing Miles. You loved leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, traveling down to his neck, and traveling further down into the depths of his collarbone.
You were doing it right now. Both of you laying on his bed with you draped over his body and his hands on your thighs for stability. You heard a chuckle under his breath and you paused to look at him.
“That made you tickle,” it was more of a statement, an observation really, than a question. He didn’t answer, just avoided your eyes. You took your finger and lightly trailed leaving goosebumps in it’a wakes, leaving him a laughing mess.
“You're such a tease,” he grumbles and kisses your lips.
The both of you were so entrapped in your own world that you didn’t hear Miles’ door opening, and you most definitely didn’t notice Rio standing at the doorway with lunch in her hands.
“What are you two doing?!” You hear a yell. It sounded too much like Ms. Morales for your liking.
Both of you froze with fear and slowly turned around to see a fuming Ms. Morales. She was gripping the tray for dear life and fierce glare on her face.
You practically jump off Miles, white hot embarrassment fills every part of your body. You avoid her line of sight as you brace yourself for the inevitable verbal lashing. You don’t even dare to look at Miles, not even a secret glance in his general direction.
“So this is why y’all wanna keep the door closed all the time huh?” She questions and laughs in a mocking tone.
“Mom-“
“Don’t,” she cuts him off harshly. She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She opens them and they land in the space between you and Miles. “Have you two..?”
“No, we haven't,” Miles answers quickly, and somehow your embarrassment grew deeper.
She gives out a sigh and pinches her nose, “Okay, okay that's good because I will not become a grandmother right now, do you both understand?”
Both of you nod in unison. There was something more terrifying about her calm rage. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anxiety.
She clears her throat, “Since neither of you clearly paid enough attention during sex-ed in school, I will re-teach you.”
“Huh? Mami please no. You really don’t have to,” Miles protested while you sink further into despair.
She ignores Miles and grabs a chair to sit in, “Okay so when..”
This was going to be a long night but it could definitely have been worse.
“Oh and you both are severely grounded for at least a month,” she adds before she continues on.
It was one of the worst 30 minutes of your life. Ms. Morales went really in depth on every subject related to sex education. The diseases you could catch, different methods of practicing safe sex, and the consequences of failing to do so. She painted horrifyingly graphic demonstrations too.
By the end of it, all you wanted to do was go home and erase this idea from your memory forever.
And at the end, she said, “Now maybe a month from now, after some reflection I can trust you two to be in the same room with the door open. But not right now. Do you need a ride home?” She turned to you, her gaze and voice softer than it was a moment ago
You quickly shake your head no and grab your things. As much as a car ride home would beat the 2 trains and a bus commute you had, your already cringing at the thought of how awkward and tense the car ride would be.
“No, no it’s fine Ms. Morales, I can get home on my own,” you tell her and with a quick goodbye to both of them, you were out the door.
Halfway through your train ride home and the Renaissance album you get a text from Miles. You were surprised he still has his phone.
“I’m sooo sorry for that. Shoulda locked the door next time. I'll make it up to you, promise 🙏🏿”
“I'll hold it to you Morales”
Tags: @butterfi, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @zomb1te, @dreamxcollide, @shibble, @sciamachy-after-dusk @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @somber-starz, @maypersonne, @peter-parkers-gf, @hoeboat101, @rosebunny, @liural, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @mur-docs, @eight-cats-in-a-box@emgavi, @sawi-06, @707xn, @niktwazny303, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @cloudstrifefantatic, @vixqn, @mewxzx, @yourtsahik, @targaryenstormborn, @spider-bren, @star-light18464, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @wraithlueintheirlittleworld, @andhdi68a, @itstooearly-its3am, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @gricelovesu, @pavitrsgf, @avatarl0v3r, @ca1ist0, @randomhoex, @nerdyparker616, @1uvvmi, @keawio, @centipider, @ellatienesuscosas, @m4rihrts, @jell0buss-37, @baddiebehaviourxx, @laylasbunbunny, @minimari415
Taglist & Anonlist & Reqs Info & Masterlist
#1610 miles morales x reader#miles morales x female reader#miles morales x black!reader#1610 miles x reader#miles morales x reader#miles morales x fem!reader#miles morales x you#miles morales x f!reader#atsv fluff#atsv miles#earth 1610 miles morales x you#earth 1610 miles fluff#earth 1610 miles morales x y/n#miles morales x y/n#atsv x black reader#atsv x you#atsv x reader#miles morales fluff#miles morales fanfiction#earth 1610 miles morales x black!reader
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Kissin I hope they caught us
Pairings - clarisse x fem! Daughter of Hecate reader
Synopsis - secrete relationship
The Ares Kids scoffed as clarisse shoved them out of the cabin.
“This is our cabin to you can’t just kick us out when you want” kyler complained as he grabbed his shoes. Clarisse on the other hand didn’t care.
“You should be thanking me since your lazy ass can’t even swing that sword correctly” she shoved a sword into his chest. “Train and maybe I’ll let the rest of y’all back in— you all have been slacking and that’s clear since the other team has beaten us three fucking times this past month in capture the flag, get your act together”
The rest of the cabin didn’t say anything in response just quickly moving out. Once they were gone clarisse leaned back against the ladder that leaned upstairs.
“Hey”
“Holy shit!” She yelled. You stood behind her laughing, being a daughter of Hecate you had some minor godly abilites some being witchcraft and shadow travel. “How many times to I have to tell you to stop fucking sneaking up on me like that” she complained but wrapped her hands around your waist and place a light kiss on your lips.
You giggled and wrapped your arms around her neck before mumbling against her. “Yeah Well you love me so you’ll get over it, and I’m on time this time 9:30 am” you grinned against her lips.
She just chuckled and put a hand to the side of your face looking down at you with such a soft look that if anyone else saw it they wouldn’t believe it was her, her face soon turned more sarcastic however. “How does your mommy feel about you making out with the daughter of war”
you raised an eyebrow. “And How does your daddy feel about his favorite daughter making out with a Demi-Titan”
Clarisse scoffed. “Don’t call yourself that, your as much of a demigod as anyone else here” you rolled your eyes. “Ok Claire”
“I’m serious y/n—“
“Clarisse what is Hecate”
“A goddess” she answered almost as if it was fact. You however gave her an unamused look. “Fine she’s a Titan — but she has an honorary spot among the Olympians because she sided with them in the fight against Kronos making her a goddess”
“Still she’s a Titan so technically I would be a Demi-Titan theres nothing wrong we me admitting that and do you really think I give to shits what anyone else thinks” you leaned into her once again and kissed her. Clarisse Just sighed in defeat into the kiss and pulled you closer.
Soon you found yourself in clarisses bed which was a single bed in the corner of the upstairs part of the cabin, she had a curtian nailed to the wall for more privacy as her cabin was mostly guys and he bed placed against the window.
You sat on her waist while both of you continued to kiss. A few sly and sarcastic remarks here n there but that just made it all the more enjoyable.
You tucked a stray curl behind clarisses ear. “You know your pretty right”
“You tell me Everyday” she sarcastically replied but you just hummed. “Yeah Well It’s True”
The ares cabin door loudly opened and clarisse groaned knowing her siblings were back. “Fuck” she scoffed.. Clarisse moved you off of her and stepped out of her bed making sure the curtian was closed before looking over the side of the railing. “What the hell are you doing back so early?”
Her siblings didn’t noticed clarisses disheveled appearance. Mark spoke up. “Paula got into a fight with a Demeter kid so Chiron told us all to go to the cabin for the rest of the day because he didn’t want us to cause more problems.” Clarisse let out a pissed off sigh.
“Whatever” she groaned and went back to her bed.. Clarisse lifted the curtian slightly and slid in. she leaned into you and kissed you softly before whispering. “Get outta here k.. I’ll see you around”
You nodded and kissed her Mkay” before you left however she grabbed your wrist. “Sneak back in later tonight” with that clarisse let you go, watching as you disappeared into the shadows
——
The camp was down at the lake, they were all either swiming- in the canoes or on the rubber mats in the water.
Clarisse snuck away from her cabin and walked into the woods.. she saw you leaning against a tree and smiled. She grabbed your waist softly and pulled you into a kiss. You pulled away and giggled. “Mm careful clarisse my girlfriend likes to beat up people”
Clarisse Rolled her Eyes playfully. “Oh No, we better not get caught then huh” you giggled as she leaned in to kiss you once again. You gently tugged clarisses hair to mess with her, laughing into the kiss as she pinched your sides.
“Y/n where a—“ an aphrodite girl paused when she saw the scene. You shoved clarisse back some embarrassed.. you watched as the daughter of Aphrodite ran away worried that the cat was now out of the bag but clarisse didn’t seem to mind. “Lise” you complained and pushed her head off your neck but she just gave you a sarcastic look.
“Hm”
“We Just got caught by drew, drew Tanaka Aphrodite girl?! Lise she’s gonna tell everyone”
Clarisse Just shrugged her shoulders and continued to kiss you. “Whatever i hope she tells everyone, gives me more of a reason to show you off” she kissed your cheek before kissing your lips once again.
“Huh” you panted confused. Clarisse pulled away with a raised eyebrow. “Did I stutter? I wanna show you off, not let anyone else mess around with you”
She laughed at your blushing cheeks “let’s get back before the camp thinks we’re fucking out here, we both know how drew changes the truth” she grinned and grabbed your hand leading you back to the camp.
#Spotify#lesbian#wlw#clarisse la rue#clarisse pjo#clarisse my beloved#clarisse larue#clarisse x reader#pjo#pjo fanfic#percy jackson fanfiction
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In Your Calvin's | JJK
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)
Wordcount: 9.6k
Genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established relationship
Rating: 18+ Minors, do not interact
Synopsis: Being Jeon Jeongguk's girlfriend is a great honour, but it comes with great responsibilities. When the commercial celebrating your boyfriend (very secret boyfriend) starts playing on everyone's and their mother's phones, it's time you face what it means to be loved by the most wanted idol of them all.
Warnings: Jealousy and general possessiveness. Swearing. Powerplay, switch!reader, switch!jk. Masochist!jk (?). Marking (hickey, writing on body with a pen), hair pulling (male receiving), edging (male receiving), spanking (male and female receiving). Teasing. Mild degradation. Dry humping. A very mild boobjob. Breast worship. Unprotected foreplay, oral sex (female receiving; brief male receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter, kids), rough sex. Mentions of cockring.
One last thing: 1. this was edited at 3am, please bear with me. 2. Sidenote: I try to be as neutral as possible with the way I describe the girls' appearance, however I wanted to specify that in this fic, I mention Candy having long, straight hair (and huge badonkers, but that's kinda canon by now LOL). It's just a brief mention, absolutely nothing major and holds no relevance to the fic, you might not even notice it; but still, I wanted to make sure I thought about my curly haired goddesses, and short haired queens, (or a combo of both heart eyes) and that I apologise for making this fic just a pinch less immersive for you.
(Is this the right moment to apologise to small boobs princesses too? ily sisters, itty bitty titty committee 5evah)
Here's my masterlist, lemme just disappear very quickly. Enjoy 💜✨
You knew Jeongguk had a gig with Calvin Klein. You've known it for months. You've seen him cut calories and hit the gym and dehydrate for a couple days before the shoot because he explained to you how muscle definition works, and crucial to showing a great slab of abs is being basically as dry as a breadstick, to the point of being cranky because you have drunk three glasses of water in the last forty-eight hours.
Which all means, you knew his stomach would be quite surely showing.
And yet your world still stops once you're merrily sitting on your train back home and his half undressed form appears on the screen on your phone.
At first you slam your phone shut, mostly because you're used to hiding your boyfriend away and that's the reaction you usually have when you open one of his flirty pics from your chat.
Next, you realise you weren't on your private chat, and you weren't even looking at pictures in your phone gallery.
You were absentmindedly scrolling. On Instagram.
You unlock your phone again, and right there you're confronted with the very naked truth.
Jeongguk. Is basically naked. On your phone. And it's for the entire world to see.
Your brain slows down, as if the earth axis is tipping over a little in the opposite way.
Something inside you snaps around the third time the video plays in front of your unseeing eyes. To anyone looking at you, you could be just an obsessed fan taking a close look at the fine piece of art, but your eyes are unfocused, your mind too deep in thought to register any stimulus from the external world.
The vibration from the phone awakens you from your state of trance.
“Candy, baby,” says the adorable lover boy calling you. “Have you seen it already?”
Your lips are sealed, and you can't quite bring yourself to speak, you don't know why.
“I'm on my way back home.” You say, and the words feel like cracking a glow stick in your chest.
“But did you see it?” His voice isn't as bright now.
“I'm coming home.” You repeat.
He's silent for a few seconds, and you can hear him sigh. “Okay.”
“He's so insanely hot,” you overhear a girl sitting across from you comment.
“I want to run my palms down the sides of his waist,” says her friend.
You stare at them and you know you must look like a woman possessed right now, but you still allow yourself to incinerate them with a glare, as if your eyes could turn into flamethrowers.
“Candy?”
“I'll be home in ten.” And you close the call.
On the way back home, you hear more people talk. More girls fawn. More women zoom in.
On the escalator, you notice a woman fanning herself while staring at the screen. Another one even crosses herself as the ad from your boyfriend reruns on her phone screen.
Every step on your way home is utter agony, and once you step over the threshold, you're not sure what you're going to do.
Jeongguk is in the kitchen in a sleeveless top, tattoos out, piercings glowing in the gentle light of the living room. And his hair is fluffy, which means he's probably just done blow drying it after taking a shower.
The fact that the scent of his body lotion is still sharp gives you further indication of how recent that shower must be.
“Hey,” he says, turning towards you with a bunny grin, which immediately dims once he sees your expression. “Oh. Bad day?”
You bite your lip and stare at him a fair bit. Then, a bit more.
“Candy, love.”
You don't know what to do with him. Is he yours? Is he really yours?
How come you come home to him making dinner, and being freshly showered, and being so domestic? How come you're living in his apartment, knowing his pass code, having an ID card for his apartment complex and his studio at HYBE? How come he gives you a copy of his schedule and talks about you over the phone on his weekly call to his grandmother and brings you to his parents' house? How come you go on trips together and you're the emergency contact to his fur babies and you make love two to four times a week? How come he's brought you to the town he grew up in and loved you down in the place where he lost his virginity because, "I wish it had been you since the very first time"?
Who is this man?
Is he Jungkook from Bangtan Sonyeondan? Or is he Jeon Jeongguk, your very own quiet, shy, reserved lover boy?
“You're scaring me,” he whispers, putting down his wooden spoon and taking a few steps to stand in front of you.
“Why me?” you ask, staring at his collarbones, too scared to look into his eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asks back, sheepish.
This time your eyes meet his. “Why me? Of all the women out there, why me?” You look down, taking in just how average you feel, every imperfection magnified in your eyes, now that you have so many people you're comparing yourself with, and competing with.
“Candy—” He starts.
“Everyone, everyone out there is literally foaming at the mouth at that commercial, and I'm here? I come home to you? I make love to you almost every night?” You pause and laugh bitterly at him. “I'm a fucking fraud.”
He shakes his head and moves closer, grabbing your wrists. “A fraud, you say?” He tuts in disappointment, places your hands on his waist. “You're not a fraud, ____, you're my soulmate.” He leaves your hands once he feels them clutch at his narrow waist.
Possessiveness hits you all of a sudden, and it is only mildly ebbed by his hands landing at the top of your ass.
“I love you, and I make love to you because it's a fucking dream. You're a fucking dream, and I'm so upset that you don't see it.”
You're jealous. You're simply jealous. It's human and it's healthy to be moderately jealous. After all the comments you heard and read, it's fair to be jealous.
“I reckon you saw the commercial.”
“I saw the commercial and everyone's reaction to it,” you comment, slightly acidic.
Jeongguk bends to place a kiss below your earlobe. “Are you angry?”
No. Not just anger.
Your hands mimic his and crawl to his lower back, toying with the hemline of his underwear. “I'm not mad.” I'm disgustingly jealous and I don't like them having more of what's mine. They already have too much, they've always wanted too much and you always give it to them and I'm furious that it's not mine alone.
Jeongguk wears a mischievous smile as he makes you take several small steps back, the back of your legs hitting the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”
You click your tongue and shake your head. “No.”
The reply startles him, and he feels his mood dim. Did he—
“I'm not a jealous person, but this… God, this hits a new level,” you finally admit. “They already drool over you quite enough, and now they even have a video of you shirtless. How would I not be jealous!? Half the girls would have snapped your neck. If Yoongi ever did this, Kitten would have his balls dangling from her Mercedes keychain. I don't even know how Lace and Princess are handling their boyfriends naked on everyone's phone. If I were Tae I would seek political asylum in Greenland. Or maybe Tibet.” You take a large mouthful of oxygen before you launch yourself in another tirade.
“Everyone's talking about grabbing your waist, licking your abs, tugging at your hair and shit and hi! I'm here! I'm the girlfriend! Sorry I exist! WHAT THE FUCK!?”
Jeongguk laughs and lowers himself to your chest, kissing where your heartbeat echoes like a crazed war drum.
“It's not fun!” you complain, significantly agitated.
“Mh.” He hums as he moves aside the hem of your shirt, meeting the soft, smooth skin of your chest. “It was supposed to come out on your birthday, that's why's a bit more racy,” he explains more patiently. “But they decided to release it early.” He kisses a tender spot and your left knee tingles a little. “It was supposed to be a slightly too public boudoir shoot. But secretly it was just yours.” Jeongguk finds the cup of your bra and stares up at you as his fingers reach the hem and slide the fabric aside. “I was thinking of you when I made it.”
And once his mouth wraps around your nipple, your right knee starts tingling too.
“Must admit I had to push the limits a lot to finally make you jealous,” he purrs once he is done with the licking, sucking motion of his mouth around your tender flesh. “But I'm sorry I crossed the line.”
What line? You think, your brain already hazy. No sharp line exists in the world you’re currently in. Just the loving, plush hills of Jeongguk's lips, the slippery slopes of his waistline, the sinuous curves of his hip bones leading you to his pelvis, and the soft curls of his luscious dark locks. No crossed borders, only gentle waves licking the shore, water and land embracing one the other.
“Remind me who's the boss here, Candy,” he says, and you know he's playing you right now. “Remind me where I belong.” His mouth is at your ear as he whispers, “Show me who owns me.”
The tingles are spreading as his fingers grab at your ass, his lips connecting with your jaw. “Talk to me, Candy.”
You’re not sure you can articulate words at this moment. Talking isn’t as easy as everyone makes it seem.
His eyes connect with yours and he can tell you’re staring at his lips by the poetic detail of your lashes lowered over your cheekbone.
It makes him chuckle, very gently, that he has all these details of you he adores, and that you have the audacity of asking him why he picked you, and why he keeps choosing you over and over.
He loves you, his family loves you, his dogs love you. This is the way it’s supposed to be.
His finger reaches underneath your chin, forcing your eyes to actually meet his. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he purrs, and as your lashes dart up, he shakes his head a little, loving the way you arch up a fraction, as if pulled towards him. “There she is, beautiful.”
You feel completely neutralised. Disarmed. All the storms brewing over you a minute ago are forgotten as soon as his sweet smile shines like sunlight above you.
His hand combs your hair back, cupping your cheek and landing a kiss on your temple. “Are you feeling better?”
You nod.
“What mood are we in?” You’ve asked him this question thousands of times since the two of you became serious, ever since he opened up about feeling too closed off to make a relationship work; and now, the fact that it was such a solid, valid ritual in your dynamics made it natural for him to ask too. “You need to talk to me, sweetheart.”
“I’m better. I…”
“Tell me what you want.”
You stare at him, at his shoulders, at his biceps, you trace his tattoo with your fingertip, and he looks closely at your finger, at it drawing swirls and circles on his skin.
“Pick me up,” you say softly.
And he does, immediately. His biceps flex and he grunts a little, not at the weight, but just because he knows the sound can make your toes curl, and he likes that a lot. His hands are wrapped around the back of your thighs, then they adjust to your bottom.
“Next? Counter? Bed? Shower?”
You kiss him. Impatient, and needy, you kiss him.
He opens up for you without hesitation, moaning at the sweet invasion of your tongue in his mouth. God, he loves it. It makes him melt, to feel your tongue slip against his, moving wet and sloppy, your lips plush and hot pressed up against him. He loves kissing you. Actually, he loves making out with you. He’s pretty sure he could come of that alone, and he tries to remind himself you have to give that a try. Another day.
He places you onto the counter because he fears his knees might give out on him. And once he has you there it means his hands can roam all over you and grab your chest and toy with—
“No touching,” you snap at him, gripping his wrists and pulling his hands behind his back.
His eyes go wide at the shift in pace, but he obeys. He also feels like he's awakening from a dream only to find out reality can be so much better.
You dig your hands in his hair and he hisses a little as you tug gently, but still roughly. You think of all the people who wish they could do just so as you stare into his eyes, seeing just how turned on he gets as you manhandle him.
You lean towards him and you notice him trying to kiss you, but you tug at his hair harder, holding him in place as the heat of your exhale fans over his parted lips and his chin.
“You want me to own you?” you ask him, watching his muscles twitch as he fights the urge to grab you and put you in place.
He nods. “Do me all the things no one else can.” He has a roguish smile as he adds, “Do me everything they won't ever, ever do to me.” And he is god of deception when he finally tips you over the edge. “Do me everything I want just from you, and you alone.”
You watch him intently, then tug at his hair so that his head is angled upwards, throat vulnerable and exposed.
He's staring at you with a mischievous glint in his expression, a walking temptation, and you can almost hear him say it, 'come on, do it'. And you do it.
You bend forward and sink your teeth in his flesh, the tender skin caving in as your bite marks him softly before your cheeks move into a suctioning motion that you know will turn into a bruise. It just pleases you so.
“Take a step back,” you order as soon as you're happy with the hickey. “Take off your shirt.”
And he winks before he does. You watch the plain of his chest, the valley in between his pectorals leading you down to his navel.
“I hope you're wearing your Calvin's,” you tease with a cocked eyebrow.
He smirks. “Always in my Calvin's.”
You snicker and shake your head. “Take off your pants.”
His forehead scrunches up in surprise, but he eventually obeys.
He's standing in a pair of socks and his white boxer briefs. At least he didn't lie, they are Calvin Klein.
“Do you want—”
“The Calvin's stay on,” you sentence, then you descend from the counter. “Head over to the bedroom. I'll come over in a minute.”
He stares at you, flabbergasted.
“Oh, and I almost forgot: don't touch yourself. Settle down, hands on the headboard and wait pretty.”
He blinks, unsure of where this is going to end or where it came from, but so blazingly grateful for it.
“Okay.”
You give him a quick once-over as you stand in front of each other. His abs are toned and defined, but now less alarmingly than the days before the shoot. His thighs are strong and you love how the material from the boxers wraps around them comfortably and smoothly.
You dare stare at his crotch, at the way the fabric traces the curve of his length, so perfectly long and so perfectly thick.
You allow your fingertips to trace the curve of his spine, so lightly that it causes him to close his eyes, his head inched to the side as he shivers in pleasure.
“Can I be rough with you?” you ask him, your hand reaching the small of his back and cupping the curve of his ass.
He moves his hands on you the exact same way you did. “Maybe I like pain,” he suggests, and from the collection of tattoos and piercings, but mostly from the supercut of memories of him getting bitten, spanked and scratched by you, you’re reminded that you’re not dealing with the edited version of him he has promoted publicly.
This is your boyfriend. Jeongguk. Your Jeongguk.
You sink your nails into the flesh of his ass, and he hisses but smiles, pulling you closer, swaying his hips to tease your crotch with his. “Go get ready, babyboy,” you croon.
He hums invitingly and kisses your neck, trying to get you to move with him, but you’ve made up your mind already.
“Go,” you repeat.
He pouts and grabs your hips. “Come on, what are you trying to do?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and wide and imploring for you to just follow him and spare him whatever cruel surprise you want to use against him.
You grab his wrists, making him unclasp his hands. “Go and you’ll find out.”
He hesitates and then he faces away, still reluctant, turning around a couple times on his way, checking if you’re following him — perhaps, maybe, hopefully…
Yet, you don’t move, not until he turns the corner to the bedroom. And then you make your way over, slow, unbothered.
And you close the door on him.
You head to the bathroom, wash up quickly, and equally quickly you cover yourself in his favourite lotion, taking special care of your neck and chest. Once properly buttered up and covered in nothing but pretty Calvin undies and his favourite Calvin jeans jacket, you’re ready to attack. But you stare at yourself in the mirror, and you feel like there’s still something you could do to give him a heart attack…
Oh, that, you think. And you get to work.
Apparently he has behaved, as you find him lounging in bed, with his boxers still on, his hands laced behind the crown of his head, a fine slab of abs in full glow from the dark amber hue coming from his led lights.
“Are we on a sunset gold kinda vibe— Holy shit.” He didn’t manage to sound as cool and aloof as he’d tried to be once his eyes landed on you.
He wished he could take a picture of you and spread it across town, just so he could stare at it while waiting for a bus, or hanging out at Hongdae with his friends, and excitedly point at it while tipsy to holler “that’s my fucking girlfriend, that fine piece of ass fucking owns me”.
He wished he could put you on an album cover and fill it with all the insane stuff you do to his heart and his mind and his body. How his heartbeat does a little hiccup thing when he sees you first thing in the morning, and how he’s spent every wish on fallen eyelashes over you, and making you happy, and building you a house and having fireworks for your wedding night, and having all his fans seeing just how incredibly fantastic you are to him, how you make him so happy and deliriously smitten and barely coherent when it comes to talking about you, and just… He just wants everyone to love you half as much as he does.
And maybe for you to be only ever in love with him, so he doesn’t risk anyone thirsting for you enough to steal you from him.
“What were you saying about golden lights?” you ask, climbing on the bed, your hand modestly holding the lapels of his jeans jacket together — it’s not time to destroy him yet.
“I— I…” He tries to sit up, but you push him back where he belongs with a well-placed hand pressed to the middle of his chest.
“Put on the red lights, love.” You grin devilishly, watching his doe eyes glimmer with wonder and disbelief.
“Have I ever told you I am one lucky motherfucker?” he says, staring at your neck, at your face, at your hand, his palms already moving to your hips as you straddle him.
“I just know it.” You sit on your throne — his lap —, stretch to the end table to grab the remote to switch the lights to red, and once the deal is settled, you let the jacket open. “I mean. I’m the luckiest because I have these, but considering you profit from them… You know…” You let your breasts show.
“I know…” he says, entirely mesmerised. God, he is so easy, you think, watching his eyes scan your chest like a cat playing catch with a laser light. You mix your standard level of charm with a slow grind of your hips, so slow and gentle that it’s straight up teasing, torture at its blandest level.
“You make it so hard to think,” he speaks with a strangled voice, trying to make you move the way he wants, but you grab his hands with the excuse of lacing your fingers with his, only to drag them back by the sides of his head.
“I didn’t know I could turn your brain into mush just like this,” you reply, feeling your folds moisten in an attempt to ease the sliding of your crotch against his length. Too bad both of you are still clad in your underwear and, according to your plans, would stay that way for quite a while, as long as possible. “You’re so whipped.”
“I am,” he purrs, and tries to get away with moving his hands back to your hips, but before he can dig his digits in the soft of your flesh, you tut.
“You’d better not touch that ass, Jeon. Keep your hands to yourself if you want my hands on you,” you threaten. “Just to remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart.”
His eyes go wide and he moves his palms back behind his head as soon as you finish your remark. “Yes, miss.”
“Good boy,” you praise him, and you visibly notice him holding back from smiling at the praise. “Did you see my little mark?” you ask. “Call it a slog
an of sorts. A vision statement.” You shrug and push back the lapels, hoping for the lights not being too low for him to see.
It has taken a while for your handy work to happen, mostly because it can be absurdly tricky writing in reverse, but thankfully you’re quite prone to graphic arts.
Jeongguk rises a little, getting closer to where he can recognise dark scribbles on your chest. Unusual dark scribbles.
“Is that… Tattooed?” he asks, and his eyes go wide as he meets your face.
You cackle at him, leaning over and licking his lips, sucking his lower one, then travelling along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe in a way that makes his hips jolt against you, buckling. “I can't have that tattooed, can I? Unless the world knows and it gets a little too permanent.”
He frowns, not at the way he loses contact with your warm crotch, but because of the unwelcome realisation of what it means to not belong to you entirely. “I'm so sorry,” he sighs, trying to hold you, but stopping his hands before he can touch you.
He goes back to his assigned position and begs you with his eyes.
“Oh, no. Don't worry, it's okay.” To keep him distracted, you get back to a soft roll of your pelvis against his, and he seems to oppose, but it only lasts for maybe five seconds.
His wound-up exhale convinces you to reward him further, lowering your chest so that it drags against his as you keep grinding on him.
“Jeongguk, baby,” you murmur fondly.
“So unfair… That I don’t get you like a girlfriend like anyone else…” He speaks, his focus spotty and frail.
“What do you mean, love?” you egg him on.
“All the public stuff… All the PDA and the grand gestures. The stuff that makes it official, you know.” His eyes are glassy and fleeting as he speaks, and it really feels as if speaking were like making a necklace except he can’t quite line up the beads the right way and he can’t manage to get the string inside the hole and it takes a very long time for the words to finally turn into meaning and it’s all so frustrating.
“I don’t care,” you reassure him, and this time you’re not unaffected either, the sentence stumbling out of you before you can even fully register the meaning you were trying to convey. “Can you read the tattoo, Guk?”
His eyelids lift through great effort, and in slow motion. You stop moving to help him focus on the writing, and he grunts at the interruption. He does not like that at all, and having you so close, so soft, so hot and wet for him is making his instinct vibrate with need to be inside you, move inside you, and then finally find his release in the welcoming darkness of your womb.
“I—” He’s really trying so hard, god bless his heart, but he’s so unfocused and his vision is blurry and he needs to blink for a bunch of seconds before he manages to spell the message, and then compute it, and then smirk wildly before he bucks his hips up against you, letting you know that you’d better move on him.
“What is it, Jeongguk? Mind sharing with the class?” you bait him with a cheshire grin.
“Not sharing any of this,” he growls, and you can feel his arms jolt at the urgency to wrap around you, press you to his front and shove you underneath him, so that he can finally move as hard and as fast as he knows the both of you need.
“Oh, don’t be a greedy little boy! Don’t you want to test how it feels to say it?” you tease him further, ready to push him to his breaking point. After all, that is what you’re always trying to do, get as far as it needs to make him go wild on you, barely coherent and entirely animalistic.
“You want me to say it, don’t you?” he provokes you, feeling just how much the humiliation will further send you soaring over him.
“I do,” you admit.
He bites his lip and you look at him, you study the shape of his lips, the glint in his eyes, the dark shimmering of his lovely ebony locks, and the way his chest heaves with effort and arousal. “These tits own Jeon Jeongguk,” he speaks, his gaze piercing yours, holding you accountable for the undoing he knows will follow.
“That’s right, isn’t it?” Your smile is sardonic, evilly pleased with his admission of submission, with him confirming, with conviction, that he is indeed entirely enslaved to his fascination for your chest, that he is so deeply enticed by it that just a silly part of you can guarantee you his unflinching devotion.
“You know it’s right,” he grunts as your movements resume. And at this point, he knows this is going to take a while, and it will most surely turn out vicious.
“Just checking in on you, making sure you haven’t found a better pair—”
“Don’t you dare talk to them like this. Not in front of me,” he hisses with a passion, and you chuckle at how chivalrously he defends your breasts from your own ill assumptions.
“That’s so gallant of you,” you reply, your hands pulling his hair back, your tone fond and just vaguely lined with mocking. “Let them repay you for your kindness,” you suggest, as you start crawling down his body, your breasts landing heavily on his lap.
“Really…?” he asks, first distracted and then extremely alert as he connects the dots. “With my boxers on?” He says with a frown.
You shrug and smirk. “Maybe we’ll get rid of them later…” You sprinkle some kisses on his abdomen, your chest dragging against his sensitive parts.
He frowns at the weight of them, so welcome, and yet deceiving as the fabric is hindering him from fully enjoying the act. “Please, off,” he huffs, tutting and fussing a little, but you decide to reward his patience with your nails tracing patterns against his chest, your fingertips drawing his areolae, your eyes hungry on his lost, bewildered state.
“Not yet, love… Be patient with me,” you reassure him, tracing the rift in between the crests of his hips, one side, then the others, ricocheting between the bones on the two sides. “I’m going to make it so good to you,” you promise him, placing kisses all around the underrated perfection of his belly button — a huge ‘fuck you’ to the people salivating over him and never, ever knowing how such a minuscule inch of his body has you so irreversibly whipped.
“Candy… Mh, love—” His voice has grown unbearably raspy and airy, so light it feels almost incorporeal, if it weren’t for the velvet smoothness of his skin underneath your lips, like marble that has finally received the breath of life, your boy an ineffable Galatea.
“If you knew, Guk, if only—” kiss— “you knew—” kiss— “how sexy, and erotic, and exciting and poetic you look right now, baby. You look like art.”
“Lemme touch you, I need you, I need—” he gasps and you’re almost expecting him to release a groan before he comes, way too early, much earlier than planned. But fortunately he doesn’t, he holds back stoically and cants his hips away. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispers, an arm covering his eyes. “I need a second if you need me to hold back.”
“Oh,” you reply in surprise, lifting yourself off him. “Are you alright?”
“Just give me some quiet for a second, Candy, don’t you dare even speak.” Jeongguk’s chest is rising and falling in wide movements, enticing and captivating.
Finally he removes his arm from his eyes, but he barely makes eye contact.
“Guk?” You ask, worried.
“Just— I’m trying to keep it cool here, love.” He wiggles his body a little, trying to get his boxers to fit a bit less tightly around him. “We should be smarter about this, you know?” His hands clench as he stops himself from reaching for you. “We should get a cockring for next time.”
You ogle him, then smile excitedly. “Really?” you chirp.
“Totally,” he concedes. He smiles even bigger at your smile. “Don’t tell me you bought one already.”
“Uhm… No,” you admit with a pout.
“Dammit. It would have been weird, but I wouldn’t even have complained about it since it would pretty much save my ass right now.” He licks his lips, stares at you some more, and he groans and throws his head back at the renewed flare of arousal after he’d just managed to tone it down a notch.
“I’m so sorry, bunny.”
“I’m alright,” he admits, his tone defeated.
“Is this the right moment to suggest I ride your face?” you say, your grin now sardonic, almost drunk on him and the sight of his body shutting down for you, malfunctioning at the mere touch of you.
He stares at you, wide eyed, nodding energetically, like a kid being asked if they want to visit Disneyland. “Guess it took a half naked commercial to get you to finally ask for it like you own it.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Careful or I can keep going with torturing you. I’m liking it anyway.”
“No no no, come over here,” he says with a stern and determined expression on his face, his hands reaching for the back of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting. Get comfy,” he encourages you, and after some manoeuvring you settle on top of him.
He nods to himself, his nose nuzzling against the crotch of your panties, his mouth opening so he can feel your heat with his tongue, trying to get as close as possible.
Unsatisfied, his fingers reach to slip your panties to the side, but you slap at his hand.
“Nope. You wanted the Calvin’s, and we’re keeping the Calvin’s,” you scold him.
He frowns. “No, you were the one wanting them,” he argues. “Keep them on, you said.”
“Whatever.” You arch an eyebrow at him, but you also know he’s right and this decision has come to bite you in the ass. “Imagine how good it will feel once we take them off… And it feels a bit kinky to keep them on. Like… Like we’re having a quickie and everyone out there is waiting for model Jeongguk to come out anytime now, but once he does, well, he looks freshly fucked and everyone can’t stop talking about it— Oh, that!” you moan, your musings interrupted by Jeongguk trying to get bits of you in his mouth.
You’re thankful for the brazilian cut panties giving him plenty of stuff to work with even with the underwear still on.
“Stop me if it’s lewd but, dammit, I love the smell of you.” He drags his face side to side, basking in the damp, salty scent of your arousal. “I don’t even know what it is about it, but I like it so much.”
“Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” you comment, your voice breathy.
“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asks, and you just rub yourself against his chin, his mouth, and his words come out muffled. At some point you think you might have hurt his nose, so you ease the pressure a little, but he grabs handfuls of your butt and keeps you snug to his face, parts his lips wider as if he were really trying to eat you.
He parts from his designed heaven only long enough to announce, “I’m pushing ‘em to the side, fuck it.” And you’re barely coherent, and he’s speaking with that intimate lisp of his, his accent heavy, like he can’t pay too much attention to words anyway.
You don’t oppose.
In seconds, his tongue is tipping inside you, slippery, and so hot, and you moan without even noticing it. Everything is soaked, his chest is covered in perspiration, and so are your thighs.
You dare look down, and his eyes are closed as he is filling all his other senses with the sensation of you.
You bask in the sight of him, one forearm draped against the headboard of the bed, your other hand reaching down, to his fluffy hair currently tickling your inner thigh. You grab it, careful to be right between gentle and aggressive, in that way he finds so pleasant and sexy.
He opens his eyes suddenly, and the moment he finds your eyes already connected with his face, he finds himself more eager to give you just what you need to plunge into oblivion.
He gives you lush, slow licks, from your centre to your most sensitive spot, he takes his time, and moves into more sinuous motions, drawing curve after curve on his way up. He is unrushed, patient, and eloquent. He is luxuriant, explorative, curious.
He loves what he’s doing, and he loves you and he’s showing it, top to bottom, and all the way up again.
“Guk,” you breathe out, and it’s almost a hiccup.
“Yes, I know,” he murmurs against the bend of your inner thigh, right at the fold to your crotch. It’s so private, so sacred. It’s heartbreakingly yours and his and no one else’s. You’re in a shared space where nobody else can tell what you and him know.
“Please,” you manage to say.
He rearranges his arm so he can move two fingers along the seam between your legs, and then they’re inside, and he’s moving them right, rubbing them against the back wall of your entrance.
As you tip your body forward, he moans with his mouth to your clitoris, happy with the new angle, and once you start grinding against him, climbing your way to your climax, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t go faster, he doesn’t add pressure. He does not change one single thing, and you’re so grateful for the way he has come to understand you, your body, your tells.
“Just right,” you encourage him. “You’re so damn perfect, love— Oh, there.”
That’s the last thing you can remember saying before he sets you off like fireworks. You don’t take much into consideration after that. All is fair, unless he’s holding you back.
You grind, hump, moan, thrash just a little as you get too sensitive and fold in two, your forehead pressed to your wrist on the headboard
as you shake your head ‘no’ but can’t bring yourself to stop from feeling everything he wants you to take.
When you manage to recover, you whisper, “Okay, gimme a second.” And you try to unstraddle his face, but he holds you there, and simply avoids touching your sensitive parts, removing his fingers from inside you.
“Are you alright, Candy?”
You nod and take some large breaths.
He moves your panties back in place, then kisses your mound softly, affectionate, innocent even.
“Can I do anything for you now, love?” He asks with a reverent, caring note in his voice.
You shake your head, still recovering. “Can I lay on top of you?”
“Sure thing,” he says, unlatching from you and leaving some room for you to realign with him, face to face, torso to torso, hip to hip, calf to calf.
He’s still hard as marble, and the gentle grind of your pelvis against his causes him to groan softly.
You press your lips to his to distract him.
The jeans jacket you’re still wearing gives him something to ground himself, his focus aimed entirely at the feeling of the fabric underneath his fingers instead of the humid warmth of your crotch pressed against his.
Just then, you bring your heels underneath your ass, rising to your knees as you swiftly remove your upper garment.
The way his focus moves immediately to your breasts makes you cackle a little, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it.
“Candy, you’ll have to get that tattooed.”
“Nah, too dangerous. They might tell on you.”
He frowns. “You’re right,” he still agrees. Too dangerous. You’re dangerous to him too, and there are not many chances of him keeping some form of dignity if he could at any time see a tattoo calling him out for his undying liaison with your chest.
He catches your wrists, making you lose your balance so that your torso collapses onto his. And he keeps you there, wraps you up in his arms.
“Still jealous, love?” he asks you.
“More than ever,” you admit, and you look into his eyes, recognising the feeling pooling in them.
“I'm only yours,” he swears, kissing the side of your head, whatever he can reach, and it's so tender, so innocent, so magical. “What can I do for you?” he whispers, flirting with you.
You wrap your hands around his forearms and bring them up above his head. “No. I want to do things for you.”
You press your lips to his gingerly, then start to kiss down, tracking his throat and moving further downwards, to his chest, stopping where his heart thumps against the petals of your lips.
“Beats so hard for me,” you comment lightly. “Do I make your heart race, love?”
“You do, Candy,” his reply is strained, as if it hurt to speak at that moment.
“But I—” You let your nails tickle the flat of his waist, the elastic band around his hips— “I also make your dick hard, don't I?”
He moans eloquently, then chuckles at your teasing. “You so do,” he admits, embarrassed but also excited, and so so thankful for having found you.
You grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth, letting it slap against his skin with a dry snap. “Grab a pen from your bedside, will you?”
You look up just in time to catch his eyes flickering open, his expression coming to life slowly. “What?” he asks, confused.
“A pen, from your drawer,” you repeat.
“Oh.” He had been too unfocused and he hadn’t realised you were talking to him, as if the words were just sound with no meaning; however, now he’s paid attention, so he stretches to the side, exposing the slender twist of his waist to your reverent mouth. You kiss him there, his body contracting as your lips attack his ticklish spot.
“You’re a menace,” he complains, giving you the side eye, but also offering you a boyish, loving smirk.
“And yet, you love me.”
“You’re lucky,” he says, right before you nip at his skin in reprimand. “Okay, I am the lucky one,” he concedes, returning to you with a pen in his hand. “You want this one?” he asks.
You nod and stretch for it, then peck the mole beside his navel and make your way down.
His underwear by now is bitterly persona non grata, still you make yourself okay with it and simply move the elastic down, exposing his hipbone more fully.
“What you gonna do?” he muses, propping himself up and staring at you bent over his pelvis. You look at him and prepare the pen, staring in his eyes as you suck at your bottom lip, torturing it a little as you think.
“Are you gonna mark me? Sign me up?” he asks, a mocking grin on his face.
You move the pen away and loll your tongue out, drawing a thick stripe following the shape of him in his boxers.
He immediately drops his cocky act and arches up, sensitive, holding on barely.
“You think you’re so smart, huh?” you scold him provokingly. “Remember where this is all coming from,” you remind him threateningly.
He gasps as your mouth sucks his tip through the fabric, your nails tracing the indentations of his quads.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You’ve got me.”
You nod to yourself. “I do,” you say, patronising just in the slightest. And because you can you rise, remove yourself from the way, and pull at his hipbone, trying to flip him around.
He’s alarmed, but he follows your lead. You straddle the back of his thighs, bend down, and move his underwear down, the elastic stuck under the fold of his ass, further emphasising it. It looks plump and delicious, and for a moment you’re caught admiring him.
He’s twisting his neck to try and see what you’re doing, filled with wonder at the way your hair tumbles over, and he’s mesmerised by the shine of it, the softness of the tips, like a brush, whispering at his skin.
You pick the right spot, then settle down, folded over his glute. His skin is hot against your touch and when you finally bring the pen to his flesh, you hope it won’t fail, despite the perspiration and the soft surface.
Shamelessly, you draw the words like an inscription on a stone.
Poetic, and dirty. Just the way you like it. However, you don’t give him the benefit of knowledge.
You lean back, watch your little handywork with a surging of pride and love and confidence. You smack it, just because you can, not hard, not soft either, just sweet enough that it doesn’t feel like a violation doing it without asking his permission first.
His muscles squeeze, and his breath catches.
Because I can, your brain keeps telling you, over and over, like a mantra. You’re allowed to. He’s yours and you’re the only one allowed to.
“You’re getting confident with this,” he comments, and suddenly your eyes are meeting.
He looks like something you would paint. Something you would dream of, and then wake up and sketch down in the middle of the night, caught by some sort of frenzy, some urgency mixed with an impending fear of forgetting, of losing it. Losing him.
“I’m gonna draw you.”
He doesn’t connect the words for a bunch of seconds. Not until you’re standing up and running out of the room and he asks himself, why, why the fuck is she leaving?
“Candy?” he calls, unsure.
He tries to see what in the world you’ve written on his ass, but you’re making your way back in the room, tablet in hand, and your steps are bouncy and your tits follow the movement so his attention is divided.
“What— Where—?” He’s confused.
And then you’re perched on the armchair at the corner of the room, and the light from your tablet reflects on your face, and you look spirited, caught by some urgency he can’t quite find a name for.
“Candy, for the love of—”
“Just a bunch of minutes. A quick sketch, no more.”
He’s been patient. He’s been understanding. He’s let you tease him, and he’s let you touch him, lick him, suck him. He still has your taste all over his face and chin and he still feels the phantom touch of your breasts against his crotch and all he wants is to feel you on him, around him, against him.
“Please,” he whines.
“Just a minute.”
He swells. Frowns. Thrusts his hips against the mattress.
“Almost—” you say, drawing a couple more lines.
You’re in his arms next. “Put that down, Candy.” His face is right above yours and he’s carrying you bridal style. “Put it down,” he repeats.
You're very still. He's looking at your quick sketch, at the way it was all a rough frame and some basic lines. “You're gonna post that? Share it as some fanart instead of a live portrait?” He throws you on the bed and you clutch your tablet harder, trying to save it from any damage. He's on top of you next, grabbing the device and moving it to his drawer before he returns upon you, blocking your wrists above your head.
“Are you maybe going to draw it faceless, so you can sell it as a picture, to decorate somebody's house?” He bends to your ear and nips at the side of your neck. “Let my ass hang naked on someone else's wall?”
You feel overwhelmed and surprised by his counterattack, not really knowing how to react.
He drags his body against yours, stealing a whimper from your lips. “I think you enjoyed topping a little too much tonight.” He flips you onto your front next, and you find yourself only mildly embarrassed that he's made only one tenth of the effort it had taken you to flip him.
He slaps your ass, and it is nowhere as playful or light as the spank you'd given him. It is his turn to grab the pen.
“Let's see if you can walk the talk, Candy. If you like the taste of your own medicine,” he muses, and he bites your ass cheek, bending over to start writing, but accidentally finding himself unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in your plush flesh.
“Since I'm not a selfish asshole, I'm gonna tell you what I'm writing. Here we go, 'This ass likes spankings from Jeon Jeongguk'. What do you say? Is it true?”
You're panting, wiggling in his hold, trying anything to see the possessed look on his face. “It's true,” you admit, breathless.
He smirks and lands one more hit on your ass. “Damn right it is,” he says confidently.
He tugs your underwear off harshly, almost angry.
Soon he's naked, and so are you, and he's slipping inside you while you're still on your front, your hips arched all the way up, cupped by his hands. “Let's make this fuck more fun than your drawing, huh?”
And when he starts, goodness, you want him to never, ever stop.
He's ruthless, and he only asks if you're alright once, after three strokes. After that, all's fair, and he's ramming inside you in a way that makes you gasp and arch further, trying to get him even deeper, to an even better angle.
You can't really look at him, since you'd risk a kink in your neck, but he doesn't care. He only cares about his handwriting on your ass, and his name on it. He only cares about the way you're gasping his name, and sometimes, when he slams in at the right moment, the impact causes too much of your breath to come out, so the whispered begging gets punctuated by moaned-out, hiccuped syllables.
He smacks your ass a few more times, his hand tingling, but the spanks seem to make you happy, so he doesn't stop, and he doesn't complain either.
“You're jealous of me, Candy,” he manages to speak, slowing down just enough so he has more of your attention. “Do you have any idea how jealous I am of you? How hard it is to feel like you want to own me half as much as I want to be yours?” He's on his knees behind you, and his thrusts grow more patient, more luscious. Richer and fuller. “Sometimes I'm scared you'll leave me, and someone else will get to have all the wonderful sex I get to have with you. Someone else will get to see your face first thing in the morning, and become a character in your cartoons, and talk about you with their granny, and bring you home for New Year's.” His face collapses close to your shoulder. “What will I do with myself, then?”
You turn your face and you finally get to see him. “Flip me around,” you order him, but your voice is fond. “I want to look you in the eyes while you fuck me like no one else has ever.”
His hair is fuzzy with his perspiration, and his face glistens with a light sheen of sweat. “Sure?” he asks, in confirmation.
“I'm sure,” you comfort him.
He's only happy once you're below him, and he's on top of you, inside you.
You clench around him, and he frowns deeply, trying to control himself. Still, he gives a sharp jab with his hips, and it steals your breath.
“Like that,” you praise him. “I want you to fuck me like that. Like no one else can.”
His eyes stay wide open, stubbornly nailed to yours as he starts moving. It's hard and slow, and it makes you see stars.
“Do you still feel like drawing?” he provokes you, “Or am I fucking you good enough?”
You hiss and bite his arm, both to keep him humble, but also, again, because you can — and nobody else does.
“Maybe I could get on top of you so you can watch my tits bounce, and maybe that will make you want to draw,” you bite back, and next thing you know you're both sat up, you're on his lap and he's bouncing you on his dick.
“Definitely feeling inspired right now,” he concedes. “Maybe I should stop and paint them.”
You push him down and he's finally with his back to the mattress, you on top. “Or maybe you could shut your mouth and get busy so I can cum.”
The slap lands almost immediately on your ass. “Dirty mouth. And a fucking divine cunt,” he speaks through gritted teeth.
He lets you lead for about thirty seconds, during which he stays occupied with your boobs, grabbing them, slapping them, pinching your nipples, and then he grabs your hips and stills them.
“Touch yourself,” he orders your roughly before he starts fucking up from below you.
It escalates quickly from there, and in less than a minute you're gone, collapsing forward, against him, and he's so thankful because he's coming too and your kegels are squeezing him just right, and he only manages to say “fucking yours” before he abandons all his inhibitions and loses himself inside you.
You come back to reality only, and you find yourself tucked in his embrace, his body above yours. You don’t know when he flipped the two of you over, but you like his weight on top of you.
“Hey,” you murmur, combing his hair away from his face.
His expression is lazy and satisfied.
Well done, you tell yourself, almost giving a pat to your own shoulder. He looks fantastically fucked, deliciously edible and perfectly yours.
“Hey you,” he replies, with the most heavenly, blissful grin on his face. No, too tired to be a grin, more like a glowy smile. It’s not fully on, it looks like those battery-operated lights when they’re almost out of energy, a bit faded, or maybe pale. Faint, feeble, dim. Soft. Muted. If his bunny smiles were jewel tones, this was the most delicate pastel pink. A powder baby blue, almost robin egg blue.
You want to wrap yourself in the hazy glow radiating from him, gentle as a sunny dawn in late May.
“So glad you got those Calvin’s,” you joke, and there it is, bunny grin, ten million watts. Apparently that makes his battery die because his head collapses to your neck and he doesn’t seem willing or ready to lift himself back up.
“So glad I made you jealous. But also sorry,” he says, truly apologetic. “I’m happy we did this. I’m happy I saw you like this.”
His lips tickle the side of your neck, and you squirm a little, but you try not to move too much. You want to be comfortable for him to rest on. You want him to stay like that on top of you forever. “I’m still maddish. But I think I can deal with it.”
“There’s more pictures coming,” he says tentatively, and he makes the effort to pick up his head to give you a helpless look, trying to protect himself already by giving you the sweetest pair of puppy eyes he’s ever used on anyone.
“Oh, I’m totally getting your ass branded,” you reply, saccharine. “I was thinking I could make those ribbons, like the ones the police use, except I put my name on it and I wrap it all around your chest, so they can’t drool all over your abs.”
He laughs, and the sound is boyish and playful, and lovely. You fall in love a tiny bit more.
“Can I see the pictures in advance?”
He hums as he thinks about it for three seconds, except he already knows how he wants to play it. “Mh…” he says some more, keeping you on your toes. “No.” He looks up, testing you. “But let’s say I hope you get that cockring ready.”
You pull your head back, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not naked in your Calvin’s, right?”
He grins, gives you a devilish wink. “Maybe.”
You grab his cheeks and squeeze his face and he laughs so hard you can’t be possibly mad at him for even a nanosecond. “You’ll be the death of me.”
“And your tits will be it for me,” he flirts back.
You shake your head. “Brat.”
And he kisses you. Just that.
Before he hits the shower the following morning, Jeongguk inspects the damage you’ve done on him.
He’s quite happy with it. A very faint bruise on his neck. A red splotch on his abs, and another on his hip, but nothing that won’t fade within one or two days. He knows you know the drill by now.
He turns around to inspect his back, and he’s okay with it, nothing that will get him in trouble in case he needs to be shirtless or generically undressed around staff members. He drops his underwear and it’s only once he’s making his way to the shower that he notices something strange on his asscheek.
Oh, fuck. Suddenly reminded of your little handiwork with the pen the night before, he bends to the side, trying to get a better view at his ass.
He finds himself wobbling side to side, like a silly puppy chasing his tail, and that is exactly the way you find him when you enter the bathroom.
A laugh bubbles out of you and you smack his butt playfully. “Do you need help with that?” you ask, cheery.
“No,” he bites back, but he has the most innocent, pouty look on his face, and he is having fun a little. “Maybe,” he concedes, his voice young.
You wrap your arms around him and rise to your toes, propping your chin on his shoulder as you hug him from behind. “I wrote, ‘Candy’s babyboy’.”
His ears go red, just the tiniest bit. “Really?” His expression is so sweet.
“Really,” you confirm, confident, serious, and loving.
“You’re not making fun of me,” he asks, vulnerably.
“I promise I’m really, really not, Guk.” You kiss his shoulder. “You’re my babyboy. And my sexy man. And just mine, generally speaking.”
He nods, a happy, fulfilled look on his face. “Right.” He’s once more confident. Entirely adult.
“Love you,” you reassure him again, and then you kiss his shoulder, again.
He grins. There he is, your boy. “Love you too.”
Hi it's Dita, the writer, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment to keep this poor gremlin fanfic writer motivated. Bye and I LOVE YOU!!!
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook one shot#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x candy#jungkook x yn#jungkook au#bts x reader#52 hertz#bangtansorciere#btswritersclub
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Yuta finding out you've got severely injured at Shibuya and freaking out
Pairing: Yuta x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: When the news of Shibuya begin to flood in, Yuta almost loses his mind over you. Without thinking twice he pays you, the secret love of his life, a visit.
Warnings: reader is depressed over her injury/disabilities so if that's not for you don't read it, Yuta is very confident in this one like he should, hurt/injury, comfort with my boy Yuta in the end
„Don’t tell me she was there too.”
Pictures flood Yuta’s mind uncontrollably. Your oh so gorgeous doe eyes, your breath-taking smile. You with your hair done the way you know he likes, you in that uniform that suits you so well.
You, lying on the floor covered in your own blood.
The news of what happened at Shibuya already pulled the ground underneath his feet. But given the fact that everyone was involved like Miguel said, you must have been there. They would be reckless to not rely on your powers.
You, a grade 2 sorcerer who would have become a grade 1 within the next few months. You, who promised him that you’ll stay safe.
“Hey, don’t worry about me, okay? This is a great opportunity to get a hold of your great powers, Yuta. I mean of course I’ll miss you terribly, but not enough to destroy this for you. Watch out.”
He had a bad feeling right from the start. After everything that happened just a few months ago, letting you go was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. But you were right with what you’ve said, to accompany Miguel and invest his time into training really was the wisest thing he could do back then.
Except for leaving you behind.
“You mean (y/n)? Both you and I know she definitely was.”
His heart drops in an instant, eyes widen in nothing but pure horror. Hearing that none other that Satoru Gojo got sealed, countless lives ended within only a couple of hours…
You can’t be dead, right? No, it’s simply impossible that you leave him alone like this.
“I hate the thought of dying during some pointless battle. This just doesn’t make sense to me, y’know? I’d rather die as a hero or not at all until I’m old and ugly.”
“But (y/n), you’re a jujutsu sorcerer. Many people just die on the battlefield without a special purpose.”
“I won’t, then.”
God, your wide smile back then. It really made him believe that you are the type to survive everything, that nothing and no one is able to bring you down.
But Shibuya managed to even get a hold of the strongest of them all. So what about you?
His lips begin to tremble uncontrollably, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood begins to spill.
“Tell me she’s alright. Tell me (y/n) made it without getting hurt.”
Miguel signs, the sheer power that radiates from Yuta’s shaking figure running shivers down his spine.
“As far as I know she managed to get out…Somehow.”
That means you’re alive, right? That means you were able to escape certain death. But…
At what cost?
“How is she, then? Tell me already”, Yuta barks at the man standing in front of him.
God, he can’t lose you. Not know. Not when he wasn’t even able to admit his feelings to you, to thank you for always standing by his side, before telling you how much he adores you with all his heart.
“I don’t know! Everything is pure chaos over there”, Miguel replies dryly.
“If that’s so, I will go and pay her a visit.”
“Now? Did you forget you’re here to get trained by me? You can’t just fly over there because of a girl-“
“She is more than just a girl”, Yuta interrupts him immediately.
“And I will go and look after her myself.”
-At Jujutsu High-
Urgh, how much you hate opening your eyes since that fateful day. Yes, you are very much alive and in proud possession of all your limbs. But that’s it, basically.
“Hey, how you’re doing?”
“Better than yesterday, still not fine I guess.”
It haunts you. The pictures of Shibuya plague your mind day in day out. Closing your eyes means seeing all of their faces before they die, opening them reminds you of the fact that you survived despite losing everything else. The sight of your left eye, the ability to move your arms freely, your capability to walk a straight line. The fucking special grade curses hit you hard, burned you to the ground, sliced you open like a fish.
And now you’re laying here as one of the few people that survived Shibuya. Right next to Shoko who cares for you every free minute.
“So glad you didn’t tell me you hate your life again, pessimism doesn’t suit you at all. What would that boy say if he could hear you blow misery?”
That boy named Yuta. It seems like everyone except himself knows about the huge crush you have on him. Well, not very surprising considering the fact that you talk about him day in and out, asking whenever he’s doing fine in that foreign land before even saying hallo.
“Haven’t heard from him since that shit happened. My phone got kinda destroyed and well, most of the time I laid here passed out on the bed”, you reply briefly, staring at the ceiling with no aim.
Oh, how much you long for him, how much you miss to hear his comforting words in the middle of the night. But you know it wouldn’t be wise to tell him what happened. As far as you can tell, Yuta would take the next flight to Tokyo and stay by your side day and night. And even though that sounds more than appealing to you, you just know this isn’t what he needs. He needs to stay where he is, safe and sound while sharpening his abilities. And you aren’t on that list.
“Well, someone definitely told him.”
You squint your functioning eye, staring at the unbothered woman in front of you in confusion. What the hell is she talking about?
“Why are you saying that?”
“(y/n)!?”
Your heart stops, eyes widen. That voice. That oh so familiar voice you heard over the phone for these past months. The voice you dreamed of day and night. Can it really be…
“Yuta?” you breathe out, eye searching for his familiar figure.
Yes, is really is him, standing in the middle of the room with his familiar white uniform. He looks so…different. The dark circles under his eyes are completely gone by now, his dark blue eyes glooming in the dim light. He definitely is a few inches taller than last time, features more mature than before. And his hair…it seems like he finally began to style it a little.
Without hesitation he storms towards you, glistening orbs scanning what’s left of your crippled body.
Yuta feels like dying. You’ve been through so much; your usual bright eyes show nothing but emptiness and agony. What did they do to you? Why does it have to be you? You, the most precious human being walking on this earth. You, the girl he’s secretly in love with since that horrible fight over a year ago. He can’t stop the tears from taking his sight, hands desperately grabbing yours.
“I’m so sorry (y/n). I should have been by your side. I shouldn’t have left you here alone, I-“
“Shut up, Yuta”, you interrupt him before hearing another word.
“You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t expect our first meeting to be when I…look like this…”, you mumble, gaze avoiding him at any cost.
“What are you talking about, (y/n)?”
His heart hammers against his chest, hands on their way to gently caress your cheek when you just turn away.
“All this time I had the chance to tell you that I love you and now…Look at me. Shoko said I might be never able to see again, countless scars will be visible on my body for the rest of my life. My leg got completely destroyed, to the point where even she might not be able to fix it. I’m not the (y/n) you know anymore. I’m a shadow of myself”, you bark at him.
Fuck, don’t cry, don’t let feelings overwhelm you. After all, Nanami-san told you how well you fought.
Just before dying in front of your very own eyes.
Your hands begin to tremble uncontrollably again when pictured of all the death and misery flood your mind. Why can’t you just turn it off? Why aren’t you strong enough to outstand all of this? Desperately you hold your own head, squinting your eyes shut. Please, just let it stop. Let it all go away.
Yuta doesn’t think twice. Gently, he places his hands on top of yours while pressing your head against his chest. It’s just not fair. When he left, you wore your smile so effortlessly, your joyful personality radiating to the outside for everyone to see. But now…you look so broken it kills him from the inside.
“I love you too, (y/n). Just the way you are. No matter how injured, no matter how bad you feel. I will always see the striking (y/n) with the most breath-taking smile and the worst humour of all times in you. We’ll get through this together, okay? I won’t leave your side.”
You crumble against his chest, letting everything out your hid so well within these last couple of hours. Oh, how much you fucking missed him, how much you longed for his touch all this time. Is it really possible that he doesn’t care about your state? Could it really be that…
Yuta Okkotsu loves you the way you are?
“You don’t care about how miserable I am?”, you whimper, taking in his delicious scent that hasn’t change even after all this time.
“Not the slightest. But I will kill everyone who did this to you without blinking”, he remarks in all seriousness.
You gaze up at him. The unsure boy in him seems to be vanished in thin air, eyes filled with confidence while he balls his fists behind your head.
Yuta Okkotsu might have changed, but the tenderness he holds in his gaze when his eyes meet yours is still the same.
“I swear that nothing like this will ever happen again. I’ll stay here with your and will make sure you’re safe.”
Your glossy eyes widen, mind trying to process his words.
“But you…you weren’t even supposed to be here. You still have to train-“
“No training in the world is more important than you. I love you, (y/n). And even though I wasn’t able to admit it back then, I want to stay by your side.”
And then is lips meet yours. Before he losing the courage to finally do what he dreamed of countless nights, to make sure you understand how much you mean to him. He will make them pay for what they did to you, he will move heaven and earth to make sure they get the punishment they deserve.
But for now, he gently strokes your hair while kissing you with all the desire he hit over the past months, will all the love he holds for you.
“I’ll be there for you, okay? And I will kill every single one of them with my own hands.”
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi
there you have it @lees-chaotic-brain I really hope you like it <3
I know this isn't your request yet but I thought you'll enjoy some Yuta content still @belovedvamp
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc#shibuya#jjk shibuya arc#jjk season 2#shibuya incident#jjk hurt/comfort#jjk hurt#jjk imagines#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen yuta okkotsu#yuta#yuta okkotsu#yuta x reader#jjk yuta#jjk yuuta#okkotsu yuuta#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuta fluff#okkotsu x reader#jujutsu shoko#jjk shoko#jujutsu kaisen shoko
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Hii, some Tim Bradford X sunshine!reader who is his rookie??
Little Miss Sunshine
Tim Bradford x reader
Warnings: pure fluff, honestly so much fluff, reader is a little sunshine.
Word count: 801
Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you'll like it, I for my part really do!
Enjoy!
It all had started when Grey played the matchmaking game, assigning each of the new rookies to a TO. You were paired with Tim Bradford, a man that was as equally handsome as distant at first.
He looked like someone you wouldn't want to mess with, sure kicking your ass out on the street first chance he'd get.
So, when you were sitting in the shop together, after he explained everything he deemed necessary, he was truly surprised by your calm, yet radiating nature.
You would do what he'd tell you with a smile on your face, responding so calmly yet confident, that he at first thought you were messing with him. You made it hard for him to be grumpy and moody, his Tim-tests falling short.
He'd soon call you little miss sunshine, the name fitting - in his opinion - like a glove to you. You were kind, friendly and open to him and others, not like many others of his rookies had been in the past.
You were constantly trying to make him smile, making jokes and funny comments, all the while still focusing on your work.
It was something he valued, being surprised at the way you were always a hundred percent on board, no matter if you'd only moments ago made a joke or just simply admired the sun shining down at you, in a city that had only about 40 days of rainy weather.
After about half a year he was sure he'd never have a rookie like you again - not because he didn't want to, but because you were so truly special, that he was sure he'd never find someone like you again, even if he'd try.
Your smile reached depths of his heart he would have never dared to mutter out loud, bathing in your glow in secret whenever you'd grace him with one of your smiles.
You were slowly melting him, like a snowman in the sun. He was the snowman and you were undoubtedly the sun, melting his icy ways until he was puddy in your hands.
You were slowly turning him inside out, something everyone but him seemed to notice at some point.
"Hey, Tim." you spoke up, silently giggling to yourself already. His head tipped your way, motioning for you to continue, whilst he continued driving. "Why was Cinderella so bad at soccer?"
He sighed to himself, the tug of his lips barely hidden as he fought against a smile. "Why?"
"Because she kept running from the ball!"
He inhaled deeply and stilled for a moment, shaking his head, as he let go of the air slowly in a way to stop himself from giving into you. Afterwards he snorted though, chuckling to himself.
"That was a bad one." he chided you playfully, and you rolled your eyes with a grin stretching your lips. "You laughed, so it wasn't that bad, Bradford."
Now he rolled his eyes, snorting again. "You're insufferable." he told you, though he knew he was far from the truth. If he could he would have listened to you telling bad jokes all day, just to listen to you at all.
"Shut up." you retorted, lightly shoving him. "You love me and you know it."
He had to refrain himself from inhaling shakily, opting to clear his throat instead. You were right, and it pained him.
It pained him in a way that made it very clear for him that you were his rookie, thus off limits to him. You still had a few months of training left, which meant he'd have to stay behind the fine line of decency until then.
He'd ask you out on a date, if you'd want that, afterwards.
Until then, he'd have to admire you from the distance.
And you had to, too.
It hadn't taken long to fall for the handsome an broody man. He accommodated his training to your needs, always keeping an eye out for you.
He laughed at you silly jokes, even if they weren't funny at all.
You couldn't wait for your training to be over, finally being able to make a move on your feelings for him, that had you floating towards the sun.
"Another one:" you proposed, sitting more upright. "What do you call an angry carrot?" You patiently waited for an answer of his, not missing the way he sent you a look of confusion through his peripheral, causing you to chuckle.
"A steamed veggie!"
You were laughing, and that was all it took for him to laugh along with you. He was knee deep in trouble, but he would gladly drown in it, if it meant he'd be able to spend time with you, see your smile and hear your laugh.
'Cause after all, you were his little miss sunshine.
@laheysfilm @newobsessionweekly
@augustvandyne @RookieTrek
@dhunhdchrih @nachofriess
#the rookie#the rookie imagine#the rookie x reader#the rookie x u#tim bradford#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford imagine#imagine
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61 for the smut thing? Can you do EJ
Ooooooh so i was sUper inspired during this one, and I’m thinking bout turning it into a multiple-part fic--would y’all be interested? 👀
Lmk if you enjoy ❣️ ✨
~Requests are closed but commissions are open!~
Join my Patreon if you’d like to support me!
Masterlist: x
61. “Just…once. Please. I just need to taste you once.”
It wasn’t a secret that the hybrid had a thing for you
But you didn’t know just how badly he wanted you
Or how often he found himself thinking of you
And how often that led to him rutting his stiff cock into his fist, desperately wishing it was you beneath him instead
You knew Jack was into you
But you didn’t know he was borderline obsessed with you
He passes you down the hall on Friday night, and your scent alone is nearly enough to drive him feral
You pause in your tracks, then call out to him
“Oh, Jack!”
God, just the way you say his name has the muscles in his abdomen tensing
He turns to you
“Yeah, what’s up?”
He tries not to cringe at how husky his voice sounds—you somehow always seem to coax a deeper pitch from him, almost as if by some kind of instinct
You smile, and god, he swears you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen
“Are you free right now?”
For you? Always
“I wanna get some training done,” you continue, entirely unaware of the way his heart is beating in his chest, “but I can’t find anyone else to spar with”
“I’m free,” he blurts the words out faster than intended, but only because the thought of you sparring with someone else makes his blood boil
“Great,” you smile again, and he can feel himself getting warmer, “are you ready for it right now, or do you have to change or something?”
“Now’s fine,” he hums
He gestures for you to lead the way, which you happily oblige
You make small talk as you walk down the corridor to the gym together
He could listen to you all day
He wants to hear every possible sound that can escape your delicate little throat; your laughter, your hums, your moans, your screams
Fuck, he has to distract himself
By the time you get to the training mats, he’s already partially hard
And though they won’t be fun to work out in, he’s thankful he wore his dark jeans instead of his grey sweats—he hates the thought of making you uncomfortable just because his damn pants might betray his arousal
“You really gonna fight me in that?” you laugh, and for a split second, he’s scared you can read his mind
But then he realizes you’re talking about his oversized hoodie, and relief washes over him
Wait—are you flirting with him?
Dumb grin on his face, he shakes his head and pulls the top over his head, tossing it out of the way into the corner of the room
“That better?”
He’s shirtless beneath it, and he almost can’t help but tense his muscles to give you a bit of a show
“Mmh, yeah, I guess it’ll do~” you tease
Fuck, fuck, fuck
He forces himself to think about Jeff and BEN to hopefully ease the way his pants keep tightening around him
He wants nothing more than to inhale your scent to see if there’s any change in your hormones
Does seeing him shirtless like this turn you on—even if just the slightest bit?
But he knows he’d be done for if he focuses too much on your scent
It’s already hard enough for him to control himself around you as is
You bring your hands up either side of your face, readying your stance, and he does the same
A mutual nod is shared, indicating you’re both ready, and then you’re making the first move
You step towards him and try to throw a hook
He dodges easily, then retaliates by kicking at the foot you’ve shifted your weight to
You stumble, but only for a second before using the momentum to try for another punch, this time aimed at his stomach
Again, he sidesteps it, his instincts making him unnaturally light on his feet
He wonders if he should let you get a few hits in; he’d hate to see you train with someone else just because he so obviously outmatches you
But while he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to fake out another punch, only to spin on your heels and give him a roundhouse kick
He tries to dodge it at the last second, but combined with his previous dilemma and the fact that he’s still very much so trying to conceal a boner, you hit him right in his side
He chokes out a groan, clutching the spot you landed the blow, and while you’re ahead, you take another shot, this time at his legs
He’s just as shocked as you must be when you get the hit in
He falls to his knees, and you’re about to drop your attack stance when he reaches out and grabs your ankle
His instincts take over for a split second, and the next thing he knows, he’s on top of you, pinning you down, and the both of you are panting heavily
Well, there go his attempts at hiding his hard-on
“Jack—“
You cut yourself off when you notice the way he’s looking down at you
The air seems to grow thick
Neither of you say anything
You both just lie there, staring at each other, sweaty body on sweaty body while you try to catch your breaths
And then, it happens
He makes the fatal mistake of breathing you in
Your scent is intoxicating
As soon as he gets a whiff, he can’t help but nestle into your neck to breathe in more of you
It’s not just your sweat—you’re turned on
You want him
His pelvis digs into yours, rolling circles between your thighs
“J-Jack—“
You gasp his name, and he almost has to stop himself from biting down into your neck right then and there
He wants to claim you, brand his mark into your skin
You’re his, you’re all his
The only thing stopping him from doing that right now is his damn fucking mask
“J-Jack, stop—“
His body freezes at the command
The word stop repeats itself in his clouded, lust-drunk mind
“W-we can’t,” you swallow thickly, “we can’t do this”
“…Why not?”
Any other time, it would’ve made him cringe to hear how much of a snarl his voice sounds like
But right now, he’s so horny, he can hardly bring himself to care
“It-it’s not—we just can’t. We’re just friends”
Friends
The word stings
He wants to spit it out, tear it in half because it’s in the way of him getting what he wants
A groan escapes him, something guttural and frustrated
You can’t lie—you want him too
He knows it, he can smell it
His cock twitches, and he notices the way it has more of your delicious scent filling the room
He buries his face into your neck again, cursing his fucking mask for blocking his lips from your skin, but knowing all too well it’s probably for the better
Breathing you in again has his hips rolling into you involuntarily
He can’t help it
He doesn’t even know if he’s really in control of himself anymore, or if it’s just the demonic instincts taking over
“Jack”
You say his name again, and oh, how he wishes it meant something different
“Just…once. Please,” he chokes the words out
He’s desperate
“I just need to taste you once”
He watches you bite your lip, brows furrowed, the need evident in your eyes
It’s pathetic, he shouldn’t be begging like this
But he’s so, so fucking desperate
He’s almost surprised when you finally make up your mind and give a shy nod
But it’s more than enough of the confirmation he needs
His hands travel down your form, trying to memorize every curve of your body beneath his touch
He’s almost salivating by the time he reaches your shorts
He looks up at you one last time, like he’s asking for permission again, and when you nod once more, biting your lip, he pulls the material all the way down
He thinks he might be in heaven when your bare cunt is revealed to him
You’re so wet you’re glistening
And your scent has his head spinning—to the point where he can’t focus on anything else
He wants to take his time, good lord, he wants to savor this, but he’s too impatient for his own good
He pushes his mask up to kiss at your thighs and hips, his sharp teeth occasionally leaving teasing nicks into your soft flesh
Your hands reach out to fist at his hair, legs spreading apart just the faintest bit more
When his tongue first makes contact with your folds, he groans deeply
He must be in heaven
He’s immediately addicted, hooked on the taste of your dripping sex
He grasps your thighs, tugs your legs over his shoulder, and firmly holds you in place
When he presses his lips to your cunt, just like that, he’s gone
He loses himself entirely to you
He sucks at your clit, lapping long strokes up your slit, and circling at your entrance
The way your body reacts to him, the way your cunt clenches every time he delves further into you, all those fucking sounds you’re making for him
He wants more
He needs more, so much fucking more
You pull his hair, whimpering his name, and he has to stop himself from grinding down into the training mat beneath him
He’s so hard, it’s almost painful
But as long as he gets to keep fucking you on his tongue, he’s over the moon
He’s so lost in you that he almost fails to notice the way your thighs start shaking around him
You’re getting close, and every nudge of his lips and tongue against your clit is making you moan even louder for him
“F-fuck, Jack— Fuck!—“
Your back arches, lifting off the ground
You look like a goddess
Even as you cum, he can’t bring himself to stop
You’re moaning and squirming, writhing in the palms of his hand, and something about it is driving him absolutely feral
He snarls, pushing his tongue deeper down your sex until he can feel you clenching around him
The string of curses falling from your parted lips is like a prayer he knows he won’t forget
He only stops when you start pulling at his hair, trying to tug him off of you
You’re shaking from the overstimulation
He, on the other hand, is throbbing in his jeans
He’s never felt so desperate
He wonders if he’s on the verge of triggering a heat
He licks at his lips, tasting your arousal off of his skin
The room is filled with your scent, and your taste is on his tongue, but if it were up to him, he’d still have more
And fuck, you’re so cute when you’re all flushed and panting after your orgasm
What he wouldn’t give to be able to see you like this all the time
He sits up, and he has to tense his muscles to prevent himself from shaking with need as you fix your shorts back on
He wants to say something, anything, but he’s at a loss for words
The word friends still hangs in the dead air between the two of you
It’s just about the only thing stopping him from folding you into a mating press and filling you with his seed
You look unsteady on your feet when you pull yourself up to stand
He looks up at you, still kneeling in front of you, and all he can picture is how good you’d look sitting on his face right now
Why must you make him so insatiable?
You make up some excuse about needing to go, looking shy and flustered and bashful all at once
He wants to say something that’ll convince you to stay, but he’s way too horny to think straight
And for the first time this evening, he’s thankful he’s still wearing his mask
It’s pushed halfway up his face, but maybe that’s just enough to conceal his expression so that you can’t tell all the depraved thoughts he’s having
He’s left there, kneeling on the training mat he just ate you out on, as he watches you leave
And he thinks fuck it, he’ll make sure that won’t be the only time he gets to do that to you
#creepypasta#eyeless Jack#eyeless Jack x reader#eyeless Jack x reader smut#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x reader smut
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Hello! I know what I'm about to write here may seem strange, but in my head, it's just perfect. Imagine a scanario of Batmom×Batfamily where S/N(batmom) is a witch (like those in the Harry Potter universe), but she's always been afraid to tell her family because she feared they would start to hate her and that Bruce would ask for a divorce (and also because, as we know, there's a law that prohibits them from exposing this to not-witch). However, somehow they discover her secret, but in the end, everything turns out fine.
Kisses♡
Sooooo... I am a witch
Bruce Wayne x witch reader
It was an average day, nothing out of the ordinary, the boys were looking through their old stuff planning to donate it. They decided to start in the attic which they didn't even know they had. But boy was it filled with a lot of stuff in labeled boxes.
"Hey look my old toy car, I forgot I had you well time to donate you", Jason said tossing the car in a pile of stuff he didn't want.
"Hey guys look what I found", Tim said picking up a box with a do not open painted on the top of the box.
Damian took the box, "I think we're not supposed to open it, Oh well". He hurriedly opened the box, and the other boys peered their heads over Damian to see what was in the box.
Surprisingly when they opened it they saw a book, some photos, and other weird things. It all looks so cool like from a movie, Dick slowly took some photos out scrutinizing it.
"Guys look at this", Dick said holding out the photo in front of his brother's face.
"That girl she looks familiar", Jason said reaching out for the photo it was of a girl behind a tree wherein a green and black color robe.
"guys, that's Mom, see the girl has the same birthmark as Mom", Tim said pointing at the girl and the picture of his mom he had taken on his phone.
The boys hurriedly raced down the attic trying to find their mother. Damian had the box in his hand while Tim had the picture. They raced down the stairs almost knocking into Alfred in the process. Finally, they saw their mother in the living room watching one of her favorite movies Princess Diaries.
Y/n heard the sound of footsteps looking in the direction of the noise. She looked at what Tim was holding, and immediately Y/n got up and took the picture out of his hand. " where did you get this" Y/n demanded taking the other things from the other boy's hands.
"Mom, what is this? what have you been hiding? Dick said pointing at the picture. Mom, it's okay you can trust us", Jason said while nudging Damian to go and hug Y/n.
" I am a Witch, I am from Hogwarts where I learned to train and use my power. But not too long ago I fell in love with your father hiding the secret I was a witch, for I was prohibited from telling any non-witch about my powers. So I hid all my stuff in an attic before we got Dick, but you kids must have found it".
"so father still doesn't know", Dick said still trying to process this story. Y/n shook her head no. "You have to tell him Ummi", Damian said. "your right, I will tell him right when he gets home", Y/n said confidently.
Soon Bruce came home, greeting all his children before going upstairs to his and Y/n's room. There he saw Y/n sitting on the bed looking straight at him not a single emotion on her face.
Before Bruce could talk, Y/n started to cry heavily, slumping her shoulders, and looking away from Bruce. Bruce quickly rushed over to her scooping her up in a hug and whispering soothing things in her ear trying to calm her down.
"my pretty girl, what's wrong?", Bruce said continuing to massage Y/n's back. "Bruce, I have something to tell...I am a witch", Y/n didn't wait to see his reaction before continuing "You are probably mad at me but I understand so if you want a divorce then I am fine with it", Y/n said so fast it was hard for Bruce to even comprehend.
"Y/n were not having a divorce, I love you too much for that, no matter if you kept a secret you probably had your reasons and I am not mad", Bruce said in a reassuring tone. Bruce stood up holding Y/n close to him swaying them side to side and humming a beat. Y/n started talking about her past as a witch telling everything to Bruce. She felt so happy to finally tell Bruce after so long, feeling so much better.
"So does that mean since I have powers I can fight crime like you", Y/n said with her best puppy dog eyes. Fuck, it was so hard for Bruce to resist those puppy dogs eyes. "Fine", Bruce said letting out a groan and seeing Y/n jump up and down clapping her hands, smiling widely at Bruce.
Question for the readers: what is your house in Harry Potter?
mine is a Slytherin
#batman#batfam x batmom#batfam x reader#batmom#batmom imagine#batmom imagines#batmom!reader#bruce wayne x reader#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#jason todd#witches#witchcraft#witchblr#witch#y/n
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Hey hey, just saw your requests were open so I thought why not request for something lolol.
Idk if you write hcs but hcs for Gojo, Geto, Nanami, and Yuta for when they have a crush on someone? 👀
(if there is a character limit then I'm sorry 🥲! Just do Gojo pls 🥲)
Hello anon, I said in my last post I'm new to hcs, but it's good practice, and as of right now there is no character limit, so I'd say four is fine. Also, I haven't written for most of these guys yet so I'm gonna due my best. so, without further ado, enjoy. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
Gojo
Gojo is very proud of himself, and I feel if he likes someone, he is going to do one of two things.
He will try and impress you by showing off.
he would bring you on missions just to show you how fast he can kill a curse.
if you guys are still students and Geto is still around he would try and get Geto to train with him so he can prove himself by beating his best friend.
If showing off his strength doesn't work, he would either start buying you stuff or just be straight forward.
If you don't get the hint by him buying you random presents each one getting more expensive, he would just straight up tell you he likes you and leave it at that.
Geto
Geto is blunt.
if he has a crush on someone, he'll probably just tell them.
He might spend a little money to get flowers or a card but he'd be straight forward
If in the event he is shy or feels like its not the best time to admit his feelings i feel like he would have one of his curses watching over you
It'd be like a kind of guard for you
he'd try and play it off as being worried about his friend but you know the truth
Nanami
I feel that Nanami is both a gentleman and very straight forward.
He would get flowers maybe chocolates, or some other small gift to show he is being honest.
He is also probably a secret dork and would practice what he was gonna say to you in a mirror just to make sure it's perfect.
When it comes to actually telling you his planning falls apart
He would just kinda freeze and push the flowers and other gifts into your hands mumble an "I like you" before walking away.
Also, he would do everything to make sure Gojo does not find out because it would be relentless teasing.
Yuta
Ok this boy is hella nervous.
He would be the most awkward thing on the planet.
When he's around you he can't help but stumble over his words
He wouldn't have a clue how to tell you.
Your friends would tease him constantly.
Panda would try giving Yuta advice about it but it's not good advice.
Maki would just roll her eyes and call him dumb.
Toge would tease him as much as he can with his limited speech.
I feel like ultimately you would have to tell him you like him before he could admit himself.
He's way to soft and self-deprecating to admit he likes someone first.
#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#gojo x reader#gojo saturo#jjk#gojo saturo x reader#nanami x reader#jjk gojo#geto suguru#suguru geto#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#nanami kento#jjk nanami#geto x reader#jjk geto#jjk headcanons#jjk hcs
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Tears ricochet
Also on AO3
It occurs to her all at once, her nose buried in his chest, his arms tight around her shoulders.
‘You’re alright,’ he whispers. ‘You’re alright.’
When she looks up to him, sees his eyes shut and his tense lips, she immediately knows he is not trying to reassure her. He is reassuring himself.
He’d found her in the Common Room, not long after he’d disappeared with Professor McGonagall behind the doors of the hospital wing. He’d walked straight to her as soon as he’d seen her, ignoring Ron and Hermione’s worried gazes, and he’d held like he had not seen her since before he’d left the school with Dumbledore. He’d clung to her like he’d only just realised that they had been apart during a battle, that he’d been too far away to protect her, that he cannot be in two places at once. And it pains him, she can tell, it takes his breath away.
This must be it, she thinks - she knows. She clenches her fists, pressing her body onto his only for him to feel that she’s alive, she’s safe, she’s real. She won’t leave him, not until he’ll ask her to.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid and noble.
.
No, she understands. Really, she does. It must’ve been somewhere hidden in the fine print on dating the Chosen One. Right under He will set off to top-secret missions with old wizards that end up dying, it’d say: He’ll push you away to keep you safe, and then: He’ll leave you behind, whatever that means. And finally: You must let him.
After all, her feelings are irrelevant in the bigger picture. There’s a war raging out there, for Merlin’s sake. Why would she even waste time fantasising about a boy she fancies when Dumbledore has died and her brother has been maimed? It’s only selfish to even fathom those silly feelings in a time like this, right? Right?
She forces her head back under the hot stream of the shower, lets the water flood her face and blur her vision, trying harder than herself to shut down that one intrusive thought she knows has now started creeping in the back of her mind. But she can’t. She can’t because she already knows, not so deep down, that he’s not just some boy she fancies, that her feelings aren’t silly, that what they share is there and it’s real, whatever it is.
Her mouth tastes bitter now. Ironic how Tom has ruined this for them, too.
.
She tells Hermione the following morning, when the boys have run off to find some lunch for them to eat under a tree. She’s not sure what she expects to get out of her, but she takes a shot at it anyway.
‘He’s going to leave me.’
Hermione opens her mouth but nothing comes out, her eyes sombre. Ginny realises she has been holding her breath.
‘You all are.’
Still, the warm July sun bathes the castle grounds as if summer does not care, as if it is all some cruel joke.
.
When it finally happens, at least she is not caught off guard. She manages to hold back her tears, just as she promised herself on countless occasions, because he does not deserve any more pain. He does not deserve any of it.
Funny how she is the one who is getting her heart broken, but she is still more concerned about his well being than anything else. Maybe this is what love is, she finally realises. It must be.
She reckons this is not the best time to tell him. Wonders if she’ll ever get the chance to.
.
On the train ride back home, she’s finally alone and free to let out all those tears she’s so stubbornly managed to hold back until now. She’s only human, after all.
She feels it all so distinctly now, the pain, the grief, the hurt, the hopelessness. But there is something almost peaceful about the deep-rooted, ever-present, plain old sense of acceptance that sits right on top of her stomach.
She knows it too well that the time has come for the Chosen One to prevail over Harry. The Chosen One has things to do, riddles to solve (Really, Ginny?, she thinks, half-smiling despite herself), and Harry has to oblige, head down, feelings buried, a wasted adolescence. It must be hard to love the Chosen One, that self-sacrificing, reckless, stubborn, noble git. But loving Harry, the real Harry, is the easiest thing in the world.
As for her - well, she knows she deeply cares for them both. Hell with that, she knows she loves them both. And, yes, she understands them both. She knows all too well what her role is, in all this mess. She really does know that the Chosen One had no choice but to break up with her before doing whatever he is set to do. She also knows that Harry never would have.
This is the only thought that will keep her going even months from now, when she will be fighting her own resistance battle.
.
As soon as she sets foot into her home, the all-too-familiar smells flooding her senses, she just knows she won’t be able to sit through an entire dinner without giving away too much. She’s too tired to lie and pretend.
‘I’m going to bed,’ she mutters to nobody in particular. ‘I’m not hungry,’ and: ‘Yes, I’m fine, I’m just knackered.’
Her mother stiffens, ready to let out a protest, but she turns on her heels towards the stairs before anyone manages to say anything. She can feel Ron’s eyes on the back of her neck, just as she’s felt his silent and constant gaze since they got off the train not so long ago. And when she hears his heavy steps behind her, following hers, she’s not even surprised.
They stop on the first floor landing, just in front of her bedroom door.
‘I’m fine, Ron,’ she quickly tells him, suddenly worrying that he’ll jump right into one of those how dare my best friend hurt my sister kind of rants. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
But instead, when she looks at him she realises that he’s not going to do any of that. His expression is miserable, sure, but it doesn’t take long for her to learn that he understands, too.
‘I’m so sorry, Ginny,’ he blurts out, no need to add more.
And that’s when it hits her, again, but much stronger this time. Maybe it’s because it’s someone else who is putting it in front of her, making it more real, or maybe it’s because she’s back home and the void left by Harry's absence is slowly starting to burn a hole in her heart. Maybe both, or maybe neither. It doesn’t even matter, that's for sure.
‘I’m sorry, too.’
He must have felt that something has changed, her voice has shifted and her eyes have filled with tears. She can read it all over his face - the distress, the panic, the what do I do now. She reckons she hasn’t cried in front of him since that train ride on her way to school in her second year. Must be new for him, must feel weird.
But even if his expression doesn’t seem to have a clue, his body certainly does - he stretches out his arm towards her and she grabs it right away, as if they have never really got rid of the long forgone habit of holding each other. He engulfs her in a warm hug, the Big Brother Hug, crumbling the last piece of guard she has managed to hold up until now. And then she just cries - she cries ugly, sobs and snot and all that. She feels like she’s twelve all over again.
.
Later, in her childhood bedroom, she sinks deep into her bed, ready to doze off into what she hopes will be dreamless oblivion. In that dark, quiet stillness, she can’t stop her mind from wandering to a time (or a fantasy, she isn’t quite sure) when this will all be over. He will slip into the very same tiny bed, squeezed right next to her, his hands gripped on her waist, lips pressed onto hers, then on her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. Or maybe - no, maybe she will rest her head on his chest, listening to the sound of him breathing, and he will gently stroke her hair as if he’s never really stopped. Or maybe (and here she can’t help but feel a soft blush tickling her cheeks), maybe their bodies and souls will find each other, bare, warm, breathless.
‘I can’t believe I got this lucky,’ he’ll tell her, you know, after. ‘I can’t believe I get to live this life.’
‘Been dreaming of getting in my bed for long, now, have you,’ she’ll tease, her sardonic tone merely hiding her immense relief.
He’ll let out a small smile - small, yes, but finally light, free, and easy, so, so easy.
‘All those Veelas didn’t quite hit’, he’ll draw some imaginary quotation marks in the air and throw her a knowing look. ‘The spot, you know.’
She’ll snort a laughter in disbelief, and she’ll be so fucking glad, because as though everything will have changed, so much will have just stayed the same.
#first thing I've written in 10 years#not sure where I found the courage to post it#I needed to let it out#hinny#harry x ginny#angst#ginny weasley#harry potter#half-blood prince#deathly hallows#missing moment#I guess?#how does this work#help a girl out
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Valentino’s daughter reader anon! What about Husk teaching the reader how to use her wings? (I mentioned Valentino didn’t care enough to do that in my last post) but she has trouble trusting people so she’s always nervous if what he’s saying is try and she acts as if she’s walking on eggshells to not make him mad like her father.
here’s another one I thought of but am too lazy to make a separate request of (I might in the future but I don’t know lol) but what if the Vs knew about the daughter but tried to keep her a secret? Like Velvette basically treated her like a dress up doll, Vox treated her like she was his assistant, I.E making her carry his coffee and other tasks that someone would need to be paid to do, and Val just ignored her existence.
you can make separate posts if you want for these, pre Angel adopting them and post, sorry I’m just excited that someone actually likes writing this idea because it’s been in my head for so long 😭😭
It’s fine!!!
TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship, tell me if I need to add more
Summary:Your new dad helps you fly!
Angel Dust placed the random mattress he had hose down in a spot. You were a bit scared but your mama and dad were with you! Fat nuggets sat beside it as he made a little noise. Husk sighed as he opened his wings. “Alrighty kiddo, you know how to open your wings right?” He asked. You nodded your head and opened them.
“Okay…Now Imma help you get up in the sky but after that we learn” He told you so you could mentally prepare yourself. He picked you up and flapped his wings as he went above the bed mattress, not to high but not to low. Just the perfect height for beginners. He held you out but still held you. “Okay so…we’re gonna learn how to flap. You know how to make your wings go up and down right?”
“Yeah!” You answered as you nod your head. “Okay, I need you to do that but without stopping” Husk said. You nod your head as you stared at your wings. Slowly, you started to make them go up and down over and over until there was no hesitation. Angel Dust smiled as he watched you two. He was recording as he saw this as a milestone for you.
“Okay, Now…I’m letting you go. Keep flapping” Husk stated and let you go. You kept flapping your wings but your eyes were shut as you were scared of falling. Slowly you opened your eyes and looked around then looked down. You saw Angel dust smiling widely and cheering. You then looked at Husk who was smiling a bit. “You got down the flapping kid, now…let’s do flying” Husk said which made you super excited.
You always wanted to fly so you could join him on the days he actually used his wings! He grabbed your hand as he started to fly. You copied his body so you were leaning forward a bit like he was. Angel Dust was worried about this but he noticed halfway through, Husk let you go. You were flying on your own! He cheered loudly which made you realize husk no longer was holding you. “Look mama! I did it!” You happily said as you got on the ground and ran to Angel dust smiling.
Husk smiled as he watched your happiness and interaction. He knew you still had training to do but you were a strong flyer which is a good thing in hell, you can get away from things faster.
#✉️mail arrived✉️#genderfluid enity answers!#yandere#please don’t do this#obession#unhealthy#platonic yandere#yandere platonic#Val daughter!reader#yandere hazbin hotel#fem reader#yandere x female reader
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For me — Pablo Gavi
Gavi is jealous of the way in which everyone seems to be obsessed with you and your food.
Word count — 1,2k
a/n: it's been a long time since the last time I wrote about gavi, but here i am! i've missed my boy
gavi's masterlist
It was Frenkie’s birthday and since you were a friend of his, you had decided to bake a cake for him. Cooking was something you were passionate about and you liked to be able to prepare pastries. Your boyfriend Gavi was the one who enjoyed everything you baked, and even though he was strictly forbidden to eat certain things due to his diet and his profession as a footballer, at the end of the day he always gave some bite to what you prepared.
Mikky had invited you to the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, where you were waiting for the birthday boy to arrive. Today’s training was to end in the next few minutes.
"Hi!"
Pedri was the first to appear, in the company of Ferran Torres and Raphinha. The boys came to greet you, and the first stayed with you, while the other two went with Frenkie's girlfriend.
"How are you, Pedri?"
"Well, better now that I see you brought something to eat. You know you’re my favorite, right?"
Pedri winked at you, accompanying his comment with a smile. He was the only one who had that kind of trust with you.
"I know you’re just saying I’m your favorite so I can give you a bigger slice of cake. It's fine, just don’t tell my boyfriend, he tends to get angry when I give you a bigger slice."
"It’s our secret."
The door opened for the second time and more Barça players appeared, among them, was Gavi. When he noticed your presence, his face lit up and a pretty smile appeared on his lips. Pablo did not hesitate to come to you to give you a kiss, despite having seen him yesterday, you had missed him a lot.
"Hello, my love."
"Hi, amor."
"What are you doing here?"
Well, Gavi was a little forgetful about some things. And as much as you had told him several times that you were baking a cake for Frenkie, he had completely forgotten. When he saw you holding a box with what seemed to contain a cake, the feeling of being betrayed appeared.
"It’s Frenkie’s birthday and Mikky invited me, I brought him a cake."
At the time you didn’t notice the look on Gavi’s face, because you heard that the guys were starting to mention that Frenkie was coming. You handed the cake to Mikky and waited for the arrival of the Barça player. Frenkie appeared just a couple of minutes later, and when everyone shouted his name, he smiled like never before. All of you wished him a happy birthday. His family and girlfriend were the first to approach him, then his teammates, and finally, you.
"You bake me the cake, don't you?"
You nodded, while Araujo complained loudly.
"It’s unfair, I also want a cake for my birthday."
"Yes, so do I. I love the food you make." Ferran Torres also joined in the flattering comments.
Smiling, you approached your boyfriend and hugged him from behind. He was a little serious and you had a feeling something had happened to him. However, you thought you were going to ask him later, because maybe he was just angry about something that had happened in training and with which you had nothing to do with.
Without knowing it, you were wrong. Gavi was jealous of the way everyone was constantly praising you. Maybe it was a childish thought, but you were his. You had chosen him. It was like everyone else wanted to steal a piece of you that only belonged to him.
While everyone started tasting your cake, you went to the kitchen, where there was another box that you had brought. You grabbed it.
"I made macarons too."
"I love you!" shouted Ferran and grabbed one of the macarons.
Gavi didn’t like hearing Ferran say he loved you.
And like every time they ate something you cooked, the compliments started. One by one they came, making you smile. Gavi looked at his teammates and he felt like every comment was worse.
It was Pedri who spoke first.
"Watch out, Gavi, if your girlfriend keeps baking like this, they’re gonna want to steal her from you."
"This is great, could you give me the recipe later?" Raphinha made a passive comment, oblivious to what was happening in the room.
"Yes, sure."
And Ansu Fati joined in the provocations, "If you ever end your relationship with Gavi here I am, I’m not opposed to you cooking me tasty food every single day."
"Oye, tío. I’m here." Gavi complained and you looked at him.
"They’re kidding, they’re just being nice to me. I’m glad they liked what I cook."
Gavi decided to shut up, knowing that his teammates noticed his annoyance and they only did it to make him even more angry. You held his hand all the time and every time you looked at each other, you kissed him. When it was time to leave, you got on an Uber and headed home.
"Do you want to go in? There are more macarons in there, I made them especially for you."
Gavi sighed and nodded.
"Okay."
Your boyfriend got out of the car and the two of you came into your house. You went towards the kitchen, where you brought two glasses of milk and left the macarons on the kitchen table. Gavi ate them quietly and that’s when you knew you had to talk to him.
"What is it, baby?"
"Nothing."
"Are you upset?"
"I’m not."
"Oh, come on. It’s obvious something’s happened to you, you’ve been serious and you barely spoke to me. What’s going on? Did the boys bother you? They were just kidding."
Gavi decided it was time to be honest with you.
"I’m tired of the way they’re always talking about you. It’s like they always find an occasion to mention you in every conversation. They used to say you’re a perfect girlfriend and that they want to steal you from me. And I don’t like it, none of that."
"I don’t like how Ferran was telling you today that he loved you and Ansu saying he was going to steal you from me. I want you to cook for me, not for them. You’re my girlfriend, not theirs."
"Oh, you’re jealous, Gavi."
"Maybe I am. But who wouldn’t be? Seeing you with them while smiling at them annoys me to no end."
"You’re right, Gavi. I’m your girlfriend and let me tell you the truth. I like it when you’re the one telling me you love my food, and I like it when you help me cook and you’re always stealing me little spoonfuls. I love you. There is nothing to worry about. No matter what, the only opinion I care about is yours. The only compliment I care about is yours. I'm so in love with you, Gavi."
And you came over and left a kiss on his lips. Gavi's lips tasted like the chocolate macaron he was eating. During the kiss, he smiled.
"Do you promise me you’ll always be there for me? That doesn’t matter what others might say, will you always be mine?"
"I am and always will be yours, Gavi."
"I love you, amor."
"I love you, bonito."
#pablo gavi one shot#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi imagine#pablo gavi blurb#pablo gavi#gavi x reader#gavi imagine#gavi#gavi one shot#gavi fluff#gavi blurb#gavi one shots
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I know the König x secret admirer reader is not gonna be officially continued but I was wondering if you could maybe explore part of it😭 there’s a part that mentioned that König gets laid in the military and I was wondering how angsty it would be if reader found out?🤭
Yes of course! ^^ It would be angsty... and fluffy! These two are the silliest people who ever lived tbh 🩷🐥
König is young in this AU (around his early 20s) and wildly inexperienced compared to some of the other recruits his age.
His first time was with a girl who joined the army when König had been there for about 1.5 years already. Desperate as he was with hiding the fact that he’s still a virgin, he tumbled into bed with this lady after a night out at the bar. She thoroughly seduced him, and König’s instincts told him she was only looking for fun, but he went with her anyway because, well. Loneliness can kill you, you know?!
He tried to woo her a bit after that until it became quite clear that this woman was not planning to settle down anytime soon. If anything, she was looking for a new conquest – and it’s fine, totally fine, except that König had surrendered a tiny piece of his heart to her along with his dick... That’s just how he is, and it took him more than a few months to get over the fact that it was “just a shag” and he “shouldn’t take things so seriously”.
That’s also why he closed off from people again, decided to concentrate on work and training and gym – until our cute little angel stumbled into his life like the prettiest saving grace! König was a goner from the start because this girl's approach was very different, so gentle and sweet compared to grimy shot glasses and smudgy lipstick and raunchy jokes. It’s a given that he was a little shocked when she sent her that pic 🙄 reminding him of promiscuous women who are not looking for a soul but a body, but because he is what he is the first thing he did was crank things up a notch and send her a dick pic back…
Yes, he’s desperate, but he’s also an go hard or go home man and this time, König is relatively sure he’s dealing with a lovely, delicate soul. Someone who wouldn’t just leave him out in the cold after getting what she wants.
And everything is like a fairytale between these two until she finds out he’s not a virgin despite he seemed a bit… like one… (in this scenario I think reader is a virgin and she thought König was one too because of obvious reasons? lol) And it’s fine, totally fine for her as well, except that the image of König having the night of his life with some military babe is haunting her from dusk till dawn.
There’s bound to be some drama when she starts asking timidly whether she’s still there… Whether they see each other every day. If they talk to each other, if he trains with her, etc. What if they test rifles together, or go out again with the sniper crew and get drunk and König feels… a little lonely?
She knows he would never cheat on her, not in a million years, but knowing how much of a wet dog he is she can’t promise that she’ll be all calm and relaxed during weekends, knowing her boyfriend is out there, full of testosterone and heart, his heart somewhat susceptible to female influence… Maybe even good old seduction…
And what’s even worse is the jealousy, the envy.
What if she’s more badass than her? That doesn't take much... She must be fierce if she’s in the military, something completely different, a forbidden apple König might want to taste again. It’s maddening, and when she finally opens up about it to him, spitting it out one night when he asks what’s bugging his sweet angel, there’s a big fat silence that follows.
König can't even believe she has torn her heart to pieces over something like this, alone and upset and ashamed when she's a literal angel. He sits her nice and pretty in his lap and talks her ear off about how he has nothing against this woman, truly, but that she is nothing compared to his first (and hopefully last!) girlfriend. Their love could never be compared to what happened between him and that girl, these things can’t even be spoken together in the same sentence. If he’s completely honest, his first time was... disappointing. Awkward, humbling, a total drunken mess of which he remembers nothing except that the woman wasn’t completely present either and that he was ashamed that his first time had to be like this.
Honestly, he felt like he lost his virginity on the night when he came to see her. She’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, all he thinks about these days... It’s quite annoying, actually, because he’s supposed to concentrate on how the wind blows and that the ammo doesn’t get wet and that he’s properly concealed.
He could be lying in a ditch with dummy rounds whirling past him and all he could think about are her eyes and lips and giggling and tits and, and… that. How warm it is, how nice it is, how he would just want to curl himself next to her when he hops back to his bunk in the evening. Her smile is the last thing he sees before he dreams, her voice is what he hears. All the things she said, all those sweet, silly little things, chime in his ear before he sleeps.
And all the precious moments they’ve already spent together, the times he made love to her under the trees... There’s nothing like that in the whole world and if she thinks something else can top that she's even sillier than he thought. He could comb through all the continents and he would never find a girl like her.
So tell him again... Why would he go to a shot glass of saltwater when he has a jar of wild honey right here at home?
#lmao what könig doesn’t tell her probablyyy is that the lady is not interested in him either#she just hops from D to D so she barely remembers König even exists#he’s only a co-star in some stories she tells her friends#like “Ooh yeah that one guy had a horse cock but he fussed around with the condom so much I almost fell asleep haha”#“what was his name again? shit I can’t remember”#meanwhile our angel reader is ascending to the 7th plane with the help of the horse cock in question like “Köniii T^T”#always the funniest thing when a secret admirer gets jealous of his object of obsession who’s actually fucking enamored with their no 1 fan#König gets jettisoned to the sun everytime she so much as *looks* his way#like are you both completely utterly dense or were you just born this way…#<3 sillies
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