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fruggo · 3 years

Note

I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,

Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?

And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing

oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!

i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request

the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)

warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins

word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)

(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.

your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.

the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.

it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.

you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.

it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.

“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.

hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.

“that i am,” he replied.

then it was quiet for a while.

very quiet.

well, what were you supposed to say now?

the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—

it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.

it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.

“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.

you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.

however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.

there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.

despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”

quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”

you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”

“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.

“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”

from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.

he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.

most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.

that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.

and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.

you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.

your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.

after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.

he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.

you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.

leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”

“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”

leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.

but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”

begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.

but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.

“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.

the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.

you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.

it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.

but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.

the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?

biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..

but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.

leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.

from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.

you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.

“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.

“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.

you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.

he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.

steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.

eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.

as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.

“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”

you know, the usual friendly stuff.

you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.

and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.

and that was when the chaos started.

steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.

“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”

steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.

it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.

after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.

“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.

“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”

he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”

oh. oh.

realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”

“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”

oh.

huh.

you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.

this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.

your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.

sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.

this was very funny to you.

not to him.

while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.

he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.

frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.

the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.

so he threw a rock at you.

it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.

“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.

he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.

you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.

“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.

frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.

“i want a truce,” he said.

you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?

he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(

just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.

“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”

he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”

frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”

“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.

of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.

so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.

when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.

when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”

you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.

he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.

this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.

oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.

and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.

listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm

#so many notes!!!! thank u!! :]#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd fanfic #dbd headcanons #frank morrison #frank morrison x reader #quentin smith #quentin smith x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fruggo writes #dbd #dead by daylight #requests

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bokukawas · 3 years

Text

two sides of the same coin

pairing; Itadori Yuuji x Reader (x Sukuna, at least kinda/implied)

warnings; i didn’t proofread this at all lol

a/n; woke up this morning with this imagine in mind so naturally i had to get it out of my head

summary; cuddle time with your boyfriend makes the monster come out... only he doesn’t seem that scary to you / seriously this is just a little something, don’t expect much of this

word count; 1,9k

Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuuji, leans heavily against you as soon as you open the door to him. Pressing his face into the crook of your neck and moaning dramatically as he puts his arms around you to squish you against his broad chest and puts even more of his weight on you. Snorting you stumble a step back, arms reaching around him to steady both of you, with little succes as you keep stumbling back because he was a beefy guy and you had trouble keeping him upright.

“Yuuji, what are you doing, you’re heavy” you huff as you stagger another step backwards, his face never leaving your neck as he sighs again.

“’m tired.” Came his nuzzled answer against your collar, leaving goosebumps in his wake as his hot breath tickles over your exposed skin.

“I can tell. C’mon then, I have dinner ready for you.”

You maneuver your boyfriend to your shared kitchen and sit him down on a chair so you have your hands free to get his food ready. He watches you with big tired eyes the whole time, exhaustion making them droop and close from time to time, seemingly without him even noticing it. He looked cute, as usual, a little disheveled, but still utterly cute and a warm feeling spread in your chest again as you watched him slowly stuff his face with what you prepared for him, munching happily, but slowly. Another indicator at how exhausted he must be, you thought to yourself. Usually the food would be gone in little to no time.

“Can we watch a movie now? I want to cuddle.” Your simple approving hum was answer enough for him. Instead of waiting for you to clean up, he wraps his arms around your middle as soon as you were close enough to him and carries you to the living room as if you would weight nothing. Well his inhuman strength sure came in handy sometimes.

Gently putting you down on the couch, he hands you the tv remote, before flopping down on you entirely, arms going around your hips as he snuggles his face into your lap. Another sigh leaves his lips, this time sounding very content as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair. You chuckle.

“You don’t even want to watch a film, you just want to be cuddled, am I right?”

“No, but you can choose the movie.”

“Liar. You don’t even have your eyes open.” You laugh as you poke his cheek. “Such a big baby.”

“Mhh don’t stop.” He grumbles when he couldn’t feel your fingers comb through his hair anymore.

Absentmindedly you just put on a random documentary on Netflix, focus never leaving your boyfriends face. Or what you could see of it anyways, as he had it mushed against your thighs.

“Hard mission today? Want to talk about it?” you ask as you continue to run your fingers through his pinkish hair, grazing your nails along his neck exactly how he likes it.

A first approving hum and another declining hum vibrate against your legs and you smile fondly down at him. It has been a long time since he last came home this exhausted. At times like this, you were actually happy that he had the king of curses residing inside of him. Sukuna surely would intervene when it got dangerous enough, making sure Yuuji, and therefore he himself would survive.

Continuing to gently caress your boyfriend, you start thinking again. It has been some time now since Yuuji had last lost control and let Sukuna emerge. It also usually happens when he was as exhausted as he currently was: when he was letting his guard down.

And sure enough, as your fingers trail down his neck, scratching at his scalp before slightly massaging his muscles you could see them: faint black lines appearing all over your boyfriends body. They disappear just as quickly when Yuuji moves a little, readjusting his weight on you, making it even easier to access his neck just how he likes it.

Soon enough his breathing evens out again, chest lifting and falling slowly, drooling a little as he drifts off for real this time. Black lines appear again all over him. Smiling, you trace your finger along one of them, noticing the little shudder the man tries to hold back. Humming, you continue to caress your boyfriends face and neck. Your smile only grows as time goes by, so when finally a red eye pops open on your boyfriends’ cheek you snicker.

“Who would’ve thought that the king of curses likes to be babied as well…” you mock, as you gently run your finger below his eye, pulling it quickly away when a mouth appears to snap at it.

The man currently in your lap was not your boyfriend anymore and you knew that. Of course you did. As soon as the markings appeared he was gone, yet you just knew Sukuna wouldn’t hurt you. When this switch had happened the first time without Yuuji noticing, you had freaked out and poked him hardly, which woke him up instantly and made Sukuna disappear in a matter of seconds. He was just as freaked out as you were about it then, so you had kept it a secret that it had happened after that again. And again.

So now, when 3 more red eyes stared up at you as he lifted his head a little you only sigh, but run your hands through his hair nonetheless.

“Rough day for you as well, hm? You’re not very chatty today.”

Sukunas much deeper voice rumbles against your thighs as he rests his head there again and whines. “I think I was the only one having a rough day. The brat nearly got himself killed…again.”

Stopping your ministrations, you fix your eyes on his face and wait for him to elaborate. When he does not, you pull at his hair a little. “Could you please explain how my boyfriend nearly got himself killed…again!?”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“What?” you ask confused.

He lifts himself up again, giving your hands a pointed look, making you groan. “You’re so demanding.”

“I’m the king of curses, you should do as I say or you’ll die.”

“Oh shut up, you were literally drooling in my lap two minutes ago.”

“I wasn’t, the brat was. I could kill you right now.”

Rolling your eyes you shove your hands back into his hair a little rougher than necessary, pulling on strands of his hair as he still didn’t tell you what happened. “Tell me or I’ll stop again.”

Your leg heats up as he exhales against it slowly and then starts telling you what happened. Yuuji was a decent fighter you knew that, but you also knew that one of his weak points were his friends and loved ones. And today that had proved to be the problem.

“I had to grow back his whole arm,” he complains. “If I hadn’t switched with him he would have bled to death right there.”

Your hands falter again. So it had been really bad today. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell you about it. “Hey honey, I nearly died today, how was your day?” Goosebumps raise on your arms as you imagine how the day could have gone if Sukuna had not meddled. Instead of your tired boyfriend coming home to you, a random worker from jujutsu tech, telling you he died. Or even worse, one of his close friends coming to deliver such a horrendous message. You involuntarily shudder.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

Cupping his cheek, you make him look up at you. “Thank you, Sukuna.”

“I only did it to safe myself.”

“That doesn’t mean I appreciate it any less.”

His mouth already pulled into a snarl, ready to give a snarky remark when the lines on his body started rapidly fading again and a droopy Yuuji was looking at you again.

“Sorry sweetie, were you talking to me?” he yawns loudly and squishes his face even more into your lap, snuggling in again. “I’m just so tired.”

Gently running your fingers over his face, you poke him in the cheek. “Let’s go to bed then puppy, you need to rest properly.”

It was obvious that Yuuji didn’t want to move away from his place on top of you, but he also knew you were right. As nice as your fingers in his hair felt, in the end this position would strain his neck and make him even sorer than he already was. So he reluctantly got up and got himself ready for bed, humming happily when he saw that you joined him in the bathroom.

With the toothbrush still dangling from his mouth he asks you what you had been saying earlier. Pondering if you should tell him that you’ve been talking with Sukuna, and not for the first time at that, you decide against it…for now. He would surely freak out again and lose all of his tiredness if you told him now and then he wouldn’t be able to rest. And he so very clearly needed to rest. You could tell him tomorrow morning, you decided. So you tell him you’ve only been rambling along a little.

After brushing his teeth, he leaves you alone to do your evening routine, but not before he discards his shirt and trousers in the laundry basket. He was one of those persons who always ran hot, so he only slept in his boxers. Who needed a blanket or clothes when they could have their girlfriend warm them up, right? That was his motto. You snort when he came back to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, telling you to hurry.

When you came to the bedroom shortly after that, he was already sprawled out in bed, opening his arms for you to lay on top of him, so you do. Resting your face on his chest, snuggling closer so you could press little kisses to the underside of his chin, making him laugh. His comforting smell soon engulfs you and you nuzzle your nose harder against him, silently thanking Sukuna again for saving your boyfriend. In return, you can feel his arms wrap around you even more tightly.

“Yuuji?” you softly whisper. He only hums for you to know he heard you, and gives a little squeeze to encourage you to continue speaking.

Lifting yourself up a little, you press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Yuuji pops open an eye at that, pulls you close again and kisses you back, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, pouring all his love for you into the kiss, instead of just saying ‘i love you’ back.You smile against his lips. “Good night.”

Taking up your position on his chest again, you close your eyes as well, listening to his soft breathing and little snores. Eventually it gets silent again and you feel two more arms wrap around your middle. Now too tired yourself to lift up your head and look at Sukuna, you just press a soft kiss against his chest as well, mumbling a “thank you again, ‘kuna.” Into his chest, before falling asleep yourself.

You miss the fond smile that grazes the curses lips as he beholds you, laying there utterly at peace in his arms and sighs. Maybe he did save that brat not only for his own benefits after all.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #sukuna #i don't know what this is #i just want to cuddle with them both so much #nana do u see this #this is what happens when we rewatch jjk #the cuddle urge with yuuji is so strong ugH but sukuna as well #twosidescoinfic #mywriting

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Where Do You Want Her Now?

Pairings | dark!Charles Blackwood x f!reader, dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!reader

Warnings | NON CON, oral (m-receiving), nipple play (kinda?), just straight up messy, deep throating, dirty talk, degradation, spitting, unprotected sex

Word count | 1983

Summary | Charles and Ransom, family friends, find a new play thing at a party.

A/n | this fic contains Non-consensual sex. If this makes you uncomfortable, please DO NOT READ.

Masterlist

The second his eyes met yours from across the room you knew something was up. The deep blue stare was hungry, dark, looming from over the lip of his half-filled champagne flute as he idly chatted with the dark-haired man beside him.

The really unsettling part; the thing that let you know that something was wrong, was that the man beside him also seemed to have a gaze locked on you. The thought that they could be talking about you whilst looking at you like that made you incredibly nervous, a shudder rattling down your spine as you forced yourself to look away.

You were out of place anyway, not used to these fancy and frilly parties. But your friend had invited you, saying that she just couldn't show up to a Blackwood party without a plus one, even if you weren't a date, per say.

So with an over exaggerated sigh and a roll of your eyes, you'd agreed. You had even let her lend you a dress and do your hair and make up, thinking at the time that no one would notice you anyway and that it wouldn't hurt to indulge her just this once.

Now you knew you were very wrong.

That's how you found yourself here, hands bound behind your back and cornered into a wall in a spare room by non other than Ransom Drysdale.

He had his large cock down your throat, belt buckle cool against your flushed cheeks as you attempt to flinch away from the other set of wandering hands finding their way over your chest.

Without warning your dress was ripped open, the fabric falling down to your waist and leaving you cold, shivering, with only a small bra to cover your modesty.

"Mmm, looks like we have a messy one here, Ran." Charles Blackwood smirked from where he was crouched beside you, the host's eyes ogling at the shine of spit as it leaked from your mouth along with Ransom's precum.

"Such a perfect little whore for us, huh?" Ransom chided with a deep, rumbling and dark chuckled from above you, his hand braced on the wall behind you as he pistons his hips forwards. His other hand was fisted in the hair at the base of your skull, pinky ring digging into your scalp as he ruthlessly fucked into your throat.

"Not quite." Charles snarled, and before you could think to question what he was talking about, a stinging sensation burnt across your cheek. "Open your fucking eyes when we talk to you, it's polite." Charles sneered, your cheek throbbing from the pain of his slap that would've sent your head snapping to the side were it not for Ransom's fingers tightly wrapped in your hair.

You managed to peel your eyes open, looking sideways at Charles who was now also adorning a smirk, hand palming it your breasts through your bra. He pulled the cup closest to him down, freeing your boob and smiling sadistically as he trailed two fingers up your chin.

"That's better. Gettin' real sloppy now, though, darlin'." Charles commented, swiping his fingers across your chin and collecting a swab of spittle before pressing it against your hardened bud.

He circled your nipple with his fingers, rolling the nub between them before pinching it harshly and pulling a whimper from you.

"Fuck, that's it baby, just like that." Ransom groaned, hips stuttering as he held himself down your throat. You spluttered around him, face going red as you wrestled to get your arms free of the expensive scarf Ransom had tied them up with. The wool burnt against our wrists, only tightening as you felt yourself get dizzy.

"Can you see those little black spots yet, darlin'? That's when the real fun begins." Charles grinning darkly and you panicked. "C'mon, make him cum. I want you to make him cum down your fuckin' throat and swallow every drop."

Ransom let out a deep sound from above you, something of a low groan infused with a possessive growl. He seemed to pull back slightly as those little spots Charles mentioned appeared, the thick ropes sticking to your throat making you retch. It was all you could do to now vomit.

As Ransom began to pull his softening cock from your mouth, Charles stopped him with a hand on the blue-eyed man's thigh.

"Looks like we have a stubborn little slut who's refusing to swallow." Charles degraded, fingers tickling across your throat before the tips were digging into the sides. "Swallow. It. All." He gritted, face red.

When you still refused, Charles huffed before letting out a sickeningly amused chuckle.

"Don't pull out until she swallows." Charles directed at Ransom and he groaned. Charles' fingers slipped from your throat, pinching your nose shut. Your eyes instantly widened, bugging out of your skull as you struggled for breath.

"He's not gonna let go until you swallow, sweetheart." Ransom sang, voice chipper as he tugged harder at you hair. Relenting, you swallowed, trying your hardest not to gag it all back up as Ransom's spend climbs down your throat.

Ransom pulled out, but didn't seem to be moving any time soon as you fell forward, coughing. Charles' hand rubbed circles over your back, the gesture much too gentle for what had just happened.

"Shhh, shhh. I know darlin', I know. Take the rest, you'll need it in a moment." Charles cooed, hand cupping your jaw as you sat upright.

"What, no 'thank you'?" Ransom chimed from above you, and Charles smirked.

"Use your manners, doll. Say thank you to Ran over there." The dark haired man's smile was cruel, taunting as he spoke. The nickname he had for Ransom made you cringe, and it most likely did Ransom too.

"Fuck you." You spat, chest heaving as you struggled to kneel upright. You'd mustered all your courage to say the words, and it didn't even matter. Both men chuckled; they had sadistic, haunting laughs. Charles tightened his grip on your jaw for a moment before harshly pushing you to face Ransom again.

"Awh, don't be like that sweetheart." Ransom pouted, running his tip over your lips before tapping it on your cheek, swearing your skin with his cum. "Now be a good girl and clean me up."

You kept your lips pressed together, determined not to make it easy for them. Charles scoffed, his hand coming down hard on your breast and making you cry out.

"Don't make me ask twice, honey." Ransom's sugary sweet voice remarked from shiver before Charles was gripping your jaw again, fingers digging into you so hard that your mouth popped open with a scarily loud crack.

Both men chuckled again, Ransom's dick surging forwards as he plunged back into your now waiting mouth.

"C'mon, use your tongue, doll. Get him nice and clean, you were the one that made the mess, after all." Charles sniggered from beside you, still crouched down as an amused glint twinkled across his eyes.

"He said your your fucking tongue, not your teeth." Ransom grunted gruffly from above you the second he felt the light scraping of your teeth against him. It wasn't intentional, but your jaw aches so much that it couldn't help from relaxing slightly.

A long whine bled from your lips as Ransom yanked at your hair, pulling you off him and spitting down at you. You cringed as it hit your face; right in between your eyes. The glob slid over your skin, trailing wryly down your face as another slap was landed over your cheek.

"Fuckin' whore." Ransom spat again, a gasp tearing from your throat as he wrenched you to your feet. His hands left you momentarily, before he was pawing at the targeted remains of your dress and attempting to yank the garment down the whole way.

You squirmed, attempting to twist away from him in order to save some of your modesty. All that you were met with was a dry laugh, Ransom's voice like velvet in your ear. Charles' hands were grabbing at you next, pulling you into him so your chest pressed to his.

His grip was firm, too firm for you to escape from as he wrapped one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist, keeping you pinning to his body with no room to move.

A sharp gasp ripped through the room as Ransom's hand hooked into the mess of fabric bunched at your waist, giving a firm tug and pulling the material down your legs until it polled at you feet. He untangled it from your feet, tossing it to the side before standing straight again.

"Hold her for me." Charles demanded gruffly, shoving you back into Ransom before reaching down to fiddle with his belt. Ransom grinned cruelly, lifting you up into his hold with scarily little effort.

He held you against his firm chest, a hand under each of your knees to hold you wide open whilst your bond hands dug into his stomach. Charles smoothed his tongue over his lip, sauntering the few steps forward before his hot breath was fanning over your face.

You cringed, attempting to pull back. Charles only chuckled, voice rich and thick like honey as he ran his swollen and leaking tip through your, ashamedly wet, folds.

"The little whore is wet." Ransom smirked as he looked down at your glistening cunt, his voice at your ear as his grip on you grew tighter.

"Fuck." Charles growled as he plunged into your heat, his head thrown back as he bottomed out. He didn't give you anytime to adjust, just began thrusting at a punishing pace.

You couldn't hold back the moans. You wanted to, but you couldn't. Your voice was hoarse and broken from Ransom's previous ministrations. You cried out a whimper when you felt Charle's hand come down hard against your breast, the sting a lingering thing that only reminded you of your situation.

"What have I told you about looking at me when I fuck you, huh?" Charle spat in a snarl, his pace somehow increasing as his hips slammed into yours. You could only whine in response, head falling back onto Ransom's shoulder as he coped mockingly at you.

"Is it too much, baby? Is Charles' to big for you?" His voice was taunting, mean as his breath hit your skin. Your hips attempted to jerk when you felt Charles spit down on your clit, the throbbing nub preening at the attention that you didn't want. "Is he stretching you good? Is he hitting that spot yet?"

A strangled moan wrenched from you at Charles' tip kissed your cervix, the pace painful now as he slammed into you.

"Cum for us. Cum on his cock like a little slut, baby." Ransom purred against your ear, Charles' fingers snaking down to rub your clit in fast circles.

"Fuck!" You screamed. It hit you like a truck, the release sudden and snapping like a cord within you as your walls fluttered.

"Good girl." Charles grunted as his hips faltered, coming to a stop as he groaned your name as he came. You could feel it as his seed filled you, both men's pants heavy in the air.

"Where's do you want her now?" Charles asked as he pulled out, eyes trained on your core as a mix of his his sticky spend and your cum dripped from your gaping hole.

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themadlostgirl · 3 years

Text

Keeping Warm (2)

*Did I make a second part to this because one person asked for it? Yes I did. Come to me my Felix simps! Enjoy your fluff!*

~~~

That had to be the best sleep I’ve had in a while! This cloak was a lot better than my old one. I wonder how long I could get away with keeping it before the boys stole it back. I folded it up neatly and hid it under my cot so it wasn’t out in the open for them to steal back.

I left my tent and noticed that the boys that had been laughing and teasing me yesterday were keeping a wide berth from me today. I had no problem with that. The farther away they stayed the better.

Since I was truly well rested for the first time in a long time I decided to take advantage of my energy and practice my archery. Before Neverland I never had a need to learn how to wield a weapon but archery was fun and it helped in hunting small game. I grabbed my bow and quiver of arrows before setting off into the jungle. When it came to game on the island there wasn’t a whole lot outside of fish and some birds but they didn’t make for much food.

If you wanted a good meal you had to head into the dark jungle of the island. It’s where all the big game lived since anyone ventured in there. You could sometimes find a rogue boar running around outside of the dark jungle but they mainly stayed within the perimeter. Other than boars there was also a type of goat that lived there. The boys had tried keeping some of the goats for milk a while back but after the “incident” all the goats were shoved into the dark jungle and water became the only acceptable source of drink. Probably for the best.

I was out tracking for a while when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I tried to make it out through the foliage and saw the head of a goat pop up. Gotcha. I notched an arrow and took aim. I let the arrow fly and cheered when it went right through the goat’s eyes.

“What the hell?” Another head popped up, this time it wasn’t a goat though. Felix turned to look at me. “What was that?”

“Sorry!” I rushed over, “I was hunting and saw the goat head. I didn’t mean to shoot at you. What are you doing out here?”

“Same as you it seems. I had been tracking this fat bastard for over an hour.” He kicked the dead goat at our feet. “Almost had it too before you got it first. Nice shot by the way.”

“Thanks! I was really lucky this time around. I usually don’t get a clear shot like that.” I tore the arrow out of the goat’s head. “Since you’re here do you mind helping me lug this beast back to camp?”

“Sure,” Felix heaved the goat up and threw it onto his shoulders. “Let’s get moving.”

“This will surely make for a good dinner tonight.”

“You really wanna let those jerks tear into your catch?” Felix asked.

“I mean not really but this is way more food than you and I can eat so we kinda have to split it up.” I shrugged, “Why do you care anyway? I thought you liked the other Lost Boys.”

“They’re my brothers but brothers can get damn annoying.” He muttered, “Taking shit that doesn’t belong to them and whatnot.”

“Ugh, I know what you mean.” I sighed, “They stole my cloak out of my tent last night so I stole one of theirs as payback.”

“Did you now?” Felix trudged further ahead, “Did you give it back yet?”

“No and I don’t plan to. Mine was so thin it didn’t help at all but this one is really warm so unless they come and pry it away from me I’m not giving it up. It also helps that is smells good so I cuddle up in it even tighter.” My face started heating up after I realized what I just admitted. “Sorry, that was a lot of unnecessary information.”

“It’s fine,” Felix muttered.

I jogged to fall into step next to him. I grabbed an apple out of my bag and started cutting off slices with my knife. I wordlessly offered one to Felix. This time when I popped it into his mouth for him though I didn’t roll my eyes since his hands were full carrying the goat. We trekked back to camp in companionable silence. Felix set the goat down for the others to skin and cook while we rested.

We sat down on a log together while I picked bits of goat fur off his shoulders.

“Felix,” One of the boys approached us, “Pan was looking for you earlier but you were away from camp so he wanted me to pass on a message.”

“And?” Felix asked.

“He’s gone off the island on a mission of sorts. Says he may not be back till morning at the latest so you’re in charge till then.”

“Got it.” Felix nodded and the boy ran off again.

“Man in charge tonight,” I poked his shoulder, “Don’t crack under the pressure, captain.”

“Har har,” He rolled his shoulder ushering me off, “Being in charge for a night doesn’t entail much. I just have to make sure these idiots don’t go rogue during Pan’s absence and do something stupid like burn the camp down again.”

“These boys can really be just the dumbest things on the face of the earth, can’t they?” I shook my head. Then my body shook. A cold gust of wind blew through the camp. It wasn’t like the slightly cooler breezes that Neverland usually had. This was cold. Really cold.

The other boys felt it as well. All of them rushing to their tents and reappearing with cloaks and others running for firewood. “What’s going on?” I asked Felix as I rubbed feebly at my arms.

Felix sighed. “I almost forgot that this happens when Pan leaves. He so rarely does anymore it didn’t even cross my mind.”

“What?”

“When Pan leaves then time stands still. I don’t mean that in the way that tie naturally stands still here. I mean the island basically goes into hibernation without him around. Depending on how long he’s been gone we should start to see the beginnings of…” Felix looked up. The once clear sunny sky had been replaced with dark dreary clouds.

“Oh don’t tell me it’s gonna rain!” I pouted.

“Worse than that.”

We sat there for a minute as delicate white flakes started falling from the sky. “Snow?!” I gaped at the offending weather. “How is there snow? This is a tropical island!”

“It is a magic island too though.” Felix said. “You may want to grab something to put on, viper. It’s only gonna get colder.”

“Right, I’ll be right back.” I ran back to my tent and pulled the cloak out from under my cot. I put it on but while it was thick enough to keep out the chill of the night it was just another feeble layer against the bitter cold that we had been subjected to now.

I went back to the log where Felix and I had been seated but he wasn’t there anymore. I made my way towards the bonfire the boys had started and huddled as close as I could get to the flames. I really hope the boy I stole the cloak from won’t try to take it back now. I fear I’ll freeze to death without it.

The sky grew even darker and the island got even colder. We were quickly burning through our supply of firewood and I knew that it would run out soon. When that happened it was every man for themselves. I figured I’d hunker down in my tent and try to keep warm by myself until Pan returned and the cold went away.

I stayed by the fire as it dwindled down to faintly glowing coals. The snow had really piled up and my toes were numb in my boots. Oh no! I didn’t even take into account the snow! I ran as fast as I could to my tent but it was of no use. The snow had weighed it down and it crumpled. My cot was soaked and the beams I had used to pitch it had snapped. This was just great.

It looked as if the other boys had gotten the memo to keep the snow from piling up on their tents since they rest were still standing. Would have been nice if they mentioned something to me. I shivered violently against another harsh gale of wind and trudged away from my ruined tent. Maybe I could find Felix and he’d take pity on me and let me stay in his tent for the night.

I scoured the wintry white camp but saw no Felix. He was probably already hunkered down. If only I knew which tent was his.

~~~

Damn this cold. Why did the island have to go into hibernation just cause Pan wasn’t around? It really wasn’t fair. Felix hated it all the more since he didn’t have anything to keep him warm now that he had let you have his cloak.

Upon realizing just how bad it was going to camp Felix remembered something that could help him keep warm. He jumped up and ran into the jungle until he found the old, gnarled dead tree that years and years ago had been the first home of the Lost Boys. He knocked against the trunk until he found the hatch that opened up. It would be a tight fit but if he kept his arms close to his chest then...Felix slipped down the hollow trunk of the tree and was deposited into an underground cavern.

He lit a torch along the wall and breathed in the dusty but altogether warmer air. This place looked as if it hadn’t been touched in decades. It probably hadn’t. Felix only ever remembered this place when Pan left and turned the rest of the island into a wintry hellscape. He never told any of the other Lost Boys about this warm oasis since he didn’t want them crowding in around him.

Felix was down there clearing cobwebs and shaking out the dusty furs and blankets when he was hit with a sharp realization. He left you back at camp. He left the one person who cannot handle any amount of cold in any way back in a blizzard!

“Shit!” Felix hissed and climbed back out of the cavern. He raced back to camp and spotted you easily enough since you were the only one still outside. Why were you outside? Why weren’t you in your tent at least?

“Hey,” He shouted, pulling you away from where the bonfire had been, “What are you doing out here?”

“Tent collapsed under the snow.” Your whole body was shaking so bad that it even bled into your voice. “Was looking for you…”

“Come on,” He grabbed your hand and tugged you along, “I know someplace we can go to wait this out.”

Felix knew it was a bad time but he couldn’t get over the sight of you in his cloak. It was just like last night when he got that strange fluttering in his chest. He gripped your hand tighter and tried pulling you faster but you ended up losing your balance and tripping. Felix caught you before you landed in the snow but he could tell you were having trouble keeping up.

“We’re almost there, just a little further,”

“I can’t feel my toes,” You whimpered.

“Damn it,” Felix ran a hand through his hair. “Well we can’t stay out here. Hold onto me.” With that Felix gathered you in his arms and pulled you off the ground. He hiked his way back to the dead tree with you held in his arms. This was the first time he had really been this close to you. Your head nestled on his shoulder as your body trembled. He set you down long enough to open the hatch on the dead tree again and set you inside. You went sliding down and Felix shortly followed.

“Where are we?�� You gazed around the cavern you both were in. “It’s warm in here.”

“My own little get away when the island goes into stasis.” Felix explained. He helped you up and ushered you towards the bed at the back of the cavern covered in blankets and furs. “You’ll keep warm down here.”

“Blankets!” He burrowed underneath the blankets with a content sigh. “I am never leaving this pile.”

“Thought you’d enjoy that.” Felix smiled. “Are your toes still numb?”

“A little.”

“Let me see, I want to make sure you don’t have frostbite.” He instructed.

You untied your boots and Felix grimaced when he saw that your socks had been soaked through. You peeled those off too. There was no way to make this awkward so Felix grabbed your feet and inspected them, pushing on your toes to make sure they hadn’t incurred any damage.

“Good news, you get to keep your toes.” Felix pushed your feet off his lap and pulled the blanket you were wrapped in back over them.

“That is a relief.” You smiled brightly. “Thanks for sharing this space with me.”

“Well I wasn’t just gonna let you suffer out there in the cold. The others deserve it but not you.” Felix said. The fluttering was back and he could feel it’s way creeping up his neck into his face. The air in the room suddenly felt too hot. He shuffled back to the foot of the bed further away from you.

There was a beat of silence.

“Hey Felix?” You crawled over to sit next to him.

“Yeah?” Felix tried not to look at you lest the pink in his cheeks be noticed.

“Where is your cloak? Don’t tell me you were out running around in this weather without grabbing it.” You said. Felix resisted a bark of laughter. Said cloak was still around your shoulders and you clutched it tightly in your hands as you looked at him.

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” He pulled the hood up over your head and down in front of your eyes. “You kinda stole it, viper.”

“Huh?” Your eyes peeped out from under the hood. He watched with amusement as the realization hit you and you pulled the hood back down to hide. “I’m sorry! I had no idea it was yours! I thought it belonged to one of the jerks that stole mine!”

“It’s alright, you needed it a lot more than I did anyway.” He chuckled softly. “Glad to know you think I smell good though.”

“AGH!” You dove under the blankets to hide further. Your embarrassed voice still rung clear from underneath the furs. “I cannot believe I told you that!”

“Come now, it’s not that bad.” Felix couldn’t help the spark of joy he felt when he teased you. “Come out. I wanna talk to you.”

“Nope! I am never leaving again for the sake of my dignity.”

“Fine.” Felix took a deep breath and pulled the covers up over himself. Your face was inches away from his under the blankets. “I’ll just come to you.”

“Felix…” You muttered, you were still keeping your eyes down so you weren’t looking at him.

“I wanna know something.”

“What?”

“If you get so cold at night why didn’t you ask me for help? I could have brought you as many blankets as you wanted from down here.”

“I didn’t ask because I had already tried asking the other boys for help and all they did was make fun of me. I didn’t want you to tease me too.”

“Teasing you is fun but I’d rather you not freeze to death.” He said, “I also told the boys that if they steal anything from you again then they’ll answer to me.”

“Why would you do that?” You asked, “I get that we’re friends but you don’t have to fight my battles.”

“It’s because you are my friend that I want to help you, idiot.” He poked your forehead, “Which means threatening Lost Boys and letting you steal my cloak. It kinda feels like it’s my mission to keep you warm.”

“A noble cause indeed.” You laughed and Felix decided then that he had never heard a more pleasing sound.

Your smile softened and Felix got lost in your eyes for a moment. The fluttering was getting worse but he found he didn’t mind it. “Here,” You closed the distance between the two of you and left a quick kiss on his cheek, “A little token of thanks.”

Okay. Now he minded. It felt like a billion butterflies had gotten trapped in his ribcage. It was just a moment. A mere second of contact but it lit his body from the toes up as if he had stepped into a fire.

“You okay? Did I cross a line? Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just thankful for what you did and you’ve always been nice to me so--”

“Give…” Felix mumbled under his breath but it was enough to stop your mess of ramblings.

“You say something?” You asked.

“Give you…” Felix took a deep breath but it did little to calm his nerves. “Want to give you one.”

“Give me one what?” You asked.

“A...um…” he tapped his cheek. This was stupid! Why was he trying to initiate this right now? It was only meant to be a thank you kiss between friends and he was making it weird!

“Oh!” Your face got even hotter than it had a moment before. “I mean if you really want to then go ahead. Can I ask why first?”

“A thanks for never dropping a hermit crab in my mouth whenever you offer me food?” he joked. You laughed again, the tension between you breaking.

“I do deserve thanks for that.” You nodded and presented your cheek, “Go ahead.”

Okay Felix. Do not screw this up. There is not conceivable way to mess this up. He inched closer and left a darting kiss to your warm cheek.

“I bring you a lot of snacks,” Your voice was a whisper, “I think maybe that’s worthy of two kisses.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Felix turned your face so he could kiss your other cheek. “While we’re at it I think I’m owed more thanks for lugging that big goat of yours back to camp. It wasn’t light at all.”

“I suppose you do.” You grinned wider. This time when you kissed him you pressed it to the tip of his nose. “You also carried me here so if we think about it logically then I should--”

“Just kiss me already.” Felix pulled you closer.

“Yes sir,” You held his face in your small warm hands and kissed him on the mouth. Your lips were so soft and you tasted sweet like berries. “Felix,” You murmured against his lips.

“Hm?”

“If this is another way of keeping warm, it’s working.”

“Then we probably shouldn’t stop.” His lips met yours again. He couldn’t have you getting cold again after all.

---

(Part 1)

#felix imagine #felix x reader #ouat felix #ouat #neverland #peter pan ouat #request

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potatoqueensays · 3 years

Text

Okay okay so I may have wrote an Irondad drabble. It's kinda like a character study or something, idk I just came up with it and was like yeah let's do this. I hope you enjoy!!

_______________________________________________

My World Isn't Perfect Without You In It

3,004 words

It started as a simple feeling.

Tony was in his lab with Peter on one of their lab days, as they always were on Fridays. He would work with the kid after Happy picked him up and they would work on whatever their genius hearts desired.

Tony didn't really find himself looking at Peter with pride until Pepper pointed it out to him, she would comment on how he seemed like a Dad all of a sudden with the kid hanging around more.

He would always deny it with that Stark charm of his of course, deflecting was one of his main traits when it came to his feelings.

"Pep, motherhood may look nice on you, but fatherhood isn't kind for me you know." Flattery was said to get you places, but Pepper was known for never taking his BS.

"Tony, I can tell the way you look at him, you love him, whether you want to face it or not." She grinned at him, she was always right, even if he didn't like to admit it sometimes.

He thought back to her words frequently, picking up on how his heart swelled with pride and warmth when Peter looked at him for approval, or whenever he would get a question right, or even when Tony himself was having a bit of trouble with an equation, and he was Tony Stark, he could do anything!

The kid wormed his way into Tony's cold heart, thawed down his icy walls with a flamethrower and melted his heart into a puddle of goo.

The billionaire could never understand how he became so fond of the kid so quickly, but he always knew the reasons he liked the kid. He was so selfless, kind, and brave. A true hero at heart and much better than Tony even thought he would be, he was everything Tony wasn't and more.

He wasn't even jealous at the kid when he would steal the light, his own best friend becoming fond of the kid and mentioning how he was practically his kid.

"Platypus, he's not a Stark, in any way shape or form."

"He may not be blood related to you Tones, but he's your son in everything else, he has your brains even, maybe even smarter than you!" Rhodey teased.

"I'm wounded, Honey-Bear." He placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

"Oh hush, you know it better than anyone else."

And if he did, he would never say it up front.

He was proud of the kid even in his worst moments. He would try to console the kid when he came to him for help when close to a panic attack (which broke the hero's heart, the poor kid didn't deserve any of the unfair treatment the world had, it was too cruel for such a pure hearted kid like Peter.) or when he had a nightmare when staying over at the tower.

Tony wasn't always the most physically affectionate, he would give pats on the shoulder or back, arms around shoulders to keep the person close, and side hugs, even if he didn't do full ones.

When it came to Peter however, he slowly broke out of his shell of that. He kept a hand gently over the back of the boy's neck, sometimes playing with the curls that rested there, occasionally giving a reassuring squeeze when Peter seemed a bit nervous or highstrung. It always got rid of a little of his own stress when the boy would lean into his touch, side hugs and pats on the shoulder were gladly accepted.

Even the occasional hand holding when the kid was kept in the med-bay after a stressful mission or patrol, he would keep his hand over the boy's pulse point to reassure himself that the kid was alive and well. He would keep one hand over the kid's wrist while he worked on his suit, improving how he could make sure the current problems never happened again, whether it be even a scratch or a stab wound, he wouldn't let Peter get hurt on his watch.

He would always keep an eye on the kid, letting Peter know that he could call whenever he felt he needed something, maybe even just to chat, the billionaire found himself even endeared to the chatter that came from the spider-kid, it was a nice comforting constant to fill the silence in his life, even if he worked in his suits with FRIDAY blasting AC/DC, he seemed to have a better preference for the chatty kid. He would invest himself in listening to what happened in his day, to what him and Ted did over the week, and even hearing about how Aunt May burned water when trying to boil pasta.

He was fond of the kid, the feeling that was so simple at the start but steadily increasing over time and getting fiercer and stronger with each visit to the med-bay or after every movie night that eventually had the boy cuddled up to him. It grew into a surge of protectiveness, a very parental feeling and yearning to make his the kid happy.

So yeah, he was fond.

He was in too deep, as he wanted the kid by his side for as long as he could have him in fact, he begun to realize that yeah, he liked the kid and was fond of his company, but even more so.

He loved the kid.

He loved Peter.

Tony had a crisis when he was having a revelation about his feelings towards the younger hero.

He felt parental, even if he kept denying the fact when everybody knew how he felt before himself. Even if he tried to hide his grin whenever the kid's smile lit up a room, even if he kept rolling his eyes affectionately and ruffled the kid's curls when they bantered.

So yeah, he loved him.

Loving was dangerous however, loving got you in difficult situations where you don't think and sometimes your actions get out of hand with how much you care.

He cared about Peter with his iron heart, he cared about the boy so loudly in fact it would almost creep those three words up into his throat when he loved too fiercely with kid.

That's how he found himself in a very dangerous situation.

Peter was hurt, badly.

And it was his fault because he loved him, he was someone he got too close to and now it was his fault.

He stayed too close even when he should have remained at arms length, but the kid had to get close.

The bullet was supposed to be for Tony, not Peter, but the kid saw it coming from a mile away and pushed the iron clad man away from the aim of fire and taking the punishment with all the confidence of a self sacrificing idiot.

Peter was laid up in the med-bay as Cho and her helpers ran around to try and nurse the kid, while Tony was trapped in his own mind with how much he let Peter get too close, how he didn't notice that the kid obviously loved him too, so much in fact that he took a bullet for him, when Tony specifically told him not to if something like that happened.

He couldn't find it in his heart to be angry at the kid, no matter how much he wanted to be, he wanted to scream and shout and punch the walls, blame the universe for giving him someone so precious and kind that he would ruin completely, to rip apart a kid's life. It was his fault that the kid was by his side now, wanting to be an avenger because he took him to Germany just to win a fight against his own team, his own family. Or what he thought was.

He was pushed out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, Rhodey's comforting voice making it's way to the man in armor, ridding him of the terrible thoughts and guilt that went through him.

"He'll be okay Tones, he's tough, he can handle it, he always does." Rhodey reasoned, trying to take Tony down from his tower of guilt.

"But he shouldn't have to."

"He did what he did because he cares, I know you would do it in a heartbeat if he was the one about to be shot."

"Because that's how it should be, I'm the adult, and he's the kid. He's just a child, Rhodey, a child." The older hero sighed, his face visible as his helmet was open, anyone could easily see his terror and distress. He tried to tear his eyes away from the frittering med staff, but he could only think of Peter. His Peter. His self sacrificing kid that he loved too much, and now it had gotten him hurt, the panic gripping his chest like a vice and not letting go as he feared what worse could have happened to his kid.

"Listen, he'll be okay, I know it." There was no room for argument with his tone, even if Tony wanted to, he needed to be at Peter's bedside, he was always there no matter what, even if he was mad or trying not to think about his guilt, the boy's presence always seemed to calm him.

The hero sighed softly, nodding even though panic rested comfortably in his chest.

He had cleaned himself up after the fight, after seeing Peter taken away from his side as he bled out and was in pain, even under the mask for the spider-suit, Tony could tell by the way the white eyes of the mask were pinched. It haunted him how he thought of Peter's bambi eyes shining with unshed tears and pain under that mask, those bright doe eyes filled with innocence and brilliance.

He remained stationary by the kid's bedside as he was finally left alone in his room, his accelerated healing luckily used in this moment. Helen had said the bullet hadn't hit any major arteries or organs, so that was a plus, but it still was agonizing to think of the boy in any sort of pain, or to even think of Peter leaving his side. If that happened, he didn't know what he would do. If he didn't have Pepper he would certainly lose it.

He just loved the kid too much to let him suffer.

He had his Stark-Pad resting in his lap as he held onto Peter's wrist, the feeling of the pulse underneath his fingers much more reassuring than the beep of the heart monitor. He kept his eyes focusing back between the notes he had down for what he could improve on Peter's suit and on the kid himself, eyeing his chest to check his breathing and checking the face of the boy in case he was going to wake up anytime soon.

He looked at the features of the boy, taking in the curls swept over his forehead, they were always gelled back no matter how much Tony joked about it. He never had a problem with it, but it was always pleasing to know how the boy liked a hand combing through his curls, whether it be his aunt to Tony himself. His face always bright with a smile that reached to his chocolate doe eyes, shining with talent and excitement for everything and anything. From Star Wars to how the Iron Man suit worked, he was always so smart and inquisitive. The boy was a ray of sunshine in Tony's bleak life. Yes he had Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy, he loved them all to bits and they made his life so much better, but loving Peter was different. He was his son in everything but blood, and that didn't even matter. He was a bright light that warmed up even the coldest of hearts, thawing right through to make anyone wrapped around his little finger.

Tony loved him.

He realized he was looking too much at the boy and swiftly changed to reading the schematics of the spider-suit, although he didn't read far when he heard a small sigh coming from in front of him. He looked up to see those bright and beautiful doe eyes looking up at him with that same amount of adoration that made Tony's heart want to burst, he didn't deserve the kid in the slightest, but here he was with him.

"Good afternoon, bambi." He said softly, aware of how Peter was sensitive his surroundings after waking up in the med-bay, the lights always at a dimmer power than normal to accustom to the spider-boy.

"Hi Mstr' Strk'." The boy slurred, still tired from just waking up and having pain reducing drugs in his system. The man carefully let go of the boy's wrist to hit the button that alerted Helen that her patient was awake, he almost missed the small whine that came from the younger hero at the loss of contact, it cut right through his heart.

"I'm here kiddo, don't worry." He held onto the boy's wrist again, fingers resting over the pulse point with quick muscle memory at this point.

"M' srry.." The boy mumbled, relaxing slightly as he registered the touch again, wide bambi eyes drooping sightly in relief.

"What are you sorry for, kiddo?" The man wondered. Peter always apologized, whether it be for something as small as dropping a pencil or bumping into a dog. He had such good manners.

"Ar' you mad a' me?" The boy's speech improving only a little as his enhanced metabolism burned through the painkillers.

Ah, so that explains it, he was worried the billionaire was mad at him. He gently rubbed a circle into the boy's wrist with his hand, comforting the kid into relaxing and not stressing when he needed to heal and get rest.

The man softly sighed and put the Stark-Pad away on the side table, scooting a little closer to the cot as he could look the kid better in the eye.

"No bud, I'm not mad, anymore. But you worried me a lot, I have a heart condition you know." He moved his free hand to go over the boy's front curls that hung in front of his eyes, getting to see those baby browns even better as the kid leaned into the soft touch.

"I knda' had to, you'd do it too.." The kid had a point, as it was similar to Rhodey's, even Pepper would say something like that, and she was always right, so that had to mean that Rhodey and Peter were too.

"That's different Pete. You're a kid and I'm an adult, we seniors kinda have to take the bullet. Figuratively and literally." He chided gently.

The boy let out a small huff of frustrated air, which was absolutely adorable as his nose scrunched up and he eyed Tony with what was presumably a glare that equalled the look of a puppy.

"But we gotta prtect' each other, otherwise you'd get hurt much worse." He brought up matter of factly.

"Well, maybe that's a risk I gotta take for spider-babies like you." Tony provided ruefully.

"Nt' a baby."

Well you're my spider-baby. He almost wanted to say.

Luckily he was saved by Helen Cho coming in to do a small checkup on Peter, looking over his vitals and smiling softly at her patient.

"Hello Peter, how are you feeling? Any pain?" She eyed over her clipboard presumably to check over his vitals and wounds again, being very perceptive to how Peter responded.

"M' fine, jus' a little sore." At that, Helen nodded and worked on administering a little medicine into his system, making the boy sigh gratefully at that. Both Cho and Tony knew when Peter said he felt a little pain it meant more than he played it as.

"I'll be back in a couple more hours, get some rest okay?"

Peter nodded at that and watched as she left the room, now alone with his father figure mentor once again. He looked over at Tony with a dopey smile, looking very tired now, he was bound to fall asleep. He sightly tugged on the man's arm, they both know that was to invite the man to cuddle, which they never brought up out loud, but they both knew the other enjoyed it greatly. It helped assure Tony that Peter was safe and there, while Peter got comfort and protection.

The man sighted good-naturedly as he stood up to get beside Peter.

"Alright alright, scoot over, this isn't gonna be nice on my back later." He joked. Although he said that, he would gladly take a little pain if it meant having Peter safe in his arms.

The boy obeyed and scooted over quickly, allowing Tony to climb in and get comfy, then let out a small "oof" as the kid rested his head on his shoulder and clung like a koala.

The man chuckled, a hand coming up to cradle the boy's head and play with his curls, knowing that helped Peter sleep much faster.

"Okay cuddle-bug, you heard her. It's nap time."

"Nt' a bug." Peter mumbled, blissfully unaware how Tony's heart practically melted with how easy Peter fit in his arms. He was so small. They were like two pieces of a puzzle, father and son, mentor and mentee. They belonged together and they wouldn't have it any other way as they needed the other.

"Right, arachnid." Tony corrected himself, hiding his grin in the kid's hair as Peter let out a pleased hum, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Night." Peter mumbled, slowly lulled to sleep by the soft rumbling of the older hero's chest as he responded in kind.

"Goodnight bambino." He mumbled, pressing a small kiss to the boy's hair as they soon both drifted off to sleep.

Yeah, Tony loved him, and he needed him in his life like Peter needed him.

Thank you to @polaroid15 for reading this before hand and your lovely comments!! 🥺♥️

#irondad #irondad and spiderson #irondad fanfiction #mine #honestly this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction #i normally write for classes or drabbles of my own characters #but i have never done other characters #also im not that good with dialogue but I tried #i hope you enjoy 🥺♥️#tony stark #peter parker #pepperpotts #but only like quickly #james rhodes #quickly as well

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heliosthegriffin · 3 years

Text

The Burdens of Lordship

Jaune decided he needed to go get out for a night, and by himself.

It had been a long couple of months at Beacon, hard, difficult, and nowhere near-easy for a fake like himself.

But, he had made it so far with Pyrrha and his teams help.

He be dead without them, hells, he’d be dead without Ruby too.

But, with all these new teams coming in today... It felt so damn suffocating, even more than usual. Like they could see through him, see that he didn’t belong here.

So, it brought him here, getting dressed for a knight on the town, heh, he’d made a Yang.

A nice pair of cream slacks, a royal blue dress shirt, a black vest on top of it lined with faux-gold buttons, a pair of nice brown loafers, and fine leather belt to bring the suit together. Contrarily to Yang and Weiss’s opinion, he did know how to dress himself, being raised by his parents plus seven overbearing sisters taught him enough, it’s just, since he came to Beacon he’s actually had the freedom to wear what he wanted.

Tonight though? He want to look better than he felt. So, he brushed his a hair enough to look presentable, and went out into the dorm.

“Well, how did I dooooo-” Jaune didn’t get to finish as Nora barreled pasted into the bathroom, knocking him to the side.

Pyrrha stifled a laugh and Ren gave the barest hint of a apolegtic smile.

Jaune steadied himself, giving a laugh at his own expense. He couldn’t blame Nora for having to go to the bathroom, could he?

“Well, how do I look?” Jaune asked his partner and his friend.

Pyrrha gave him a friendly smile and nodded approvingly. “Quite lovely, Jaune. You look dashing.”

“Ah, thanks Pyr.” Jaune said with a slight blush, it always felt nice to be complimented.

Ren looked on more skeptically, with a hand on his chin. “Turn around.”

Jaune did as asked.

“Ok, do some stretches.”

Jaune complied with his team-mates wishes, surely he would notice if he missed something.

“Alright, you look passable. Here,” Ren approached Jaune squirted a few drops of cologne, and helped straighten out his outfit. “And now you look, as Pyrrha put it, quite dashing.” Ren said with a light smile.

“Thanks, Ren.” Jaune said another light blush on his cheeks. “Well, I guess I should be going then.”

“Wait,” Ren said putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re forgetting something.” He looked over to Pyrrha and she handed the boys Crocea Mors.

Jaune looked on incredulous. “Why would I need Crocea Mors?”

Ren shook his head. “You’re a huntsman, you must look the part at all times. Plus...”

Jaune frowned, knowing where he was leading. “It’ll make me less likely to be mugged or something.”

Jaune knew he was a still noodly, and looked kinda weak. But he was working really hard on that!

Jaune still took his blade without complaint, admittedly he has gotten so used to wearing it, he started feeling off when not wearing it.

Pyrrha rubbed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not like that Jaune, it’s not we’re concerned about you getting hurt, far from it, the odds of someone attacking you and them being huntsman trained are one in some hundred. We’re actually more concerned that someone might mug you and...”

Ren chimed in, “Well, you’re not Nora strong, but you’re being trained and have Aura, and that’s more than enough to hospitalize someone without one or both.”

Jaune grimaced at the idea. While he didn’t fancy himself strong or powerful, it as kinda hard to deny he hadn’t been making progress, last week he had managed to take off the head of one of the old drones that General Ironwood had donated to the academy. A regular human probably require much, much less effort.

So he nodded. “I see your point. Better to deter them, before they make a attempt.”

“Also, Ruby would be peeved if you didn’t start taking this.” Then Pyrrha pushed a black hand-canon into his hand. She then looked him in the eyes. “I’d also be rather put out, considering I paid for it.” A sly grin in her eyes.

Jaune sighed and equipped the gun to his waist opposite of Crocea Mors. Ever since he had started training with Pyrrha seriously, she had quite insistent about covering his ranged issues. So his devious partner, had behind his back teamed up with his best friend and local gun-nut, Ruby Rose, to make him a custom-hand canon.

Her evils truly knew no bounds. They had even come up with a name for it the devils! Noctis Mors.

Ruby had been a cruel task-master in teaching him the in’s and outs of shooting Noctis Mors, she had made him assemble and reassemble her until his hands bled gun oil. Suffice to say, while Noctis Mors felt a little strange on his hip, he was getting used to it.

“Thank you, Pyrrha.” He said, and pulled her into a hug, which she reciprocated.

“Better to have it and not need it, then to needed and not have it.”

Jaune smiled and shook his head, his friends were too good to him.

“Tell Nora, I said bye.”

Ren nodded his head. “You should leave before she loads you up with some grenades.”

Jaune shivered at the thought, he might be coming around to using Noctis Mors, but he doubted he’d ever get used to high-caliber explosives, He’d leave that to his crazy ginger bomber.

“Well, bye guys, I’ll see you later tonight.” Jaune said to his friend and Partner.

“Bye, Jaune.”

“Try not to eat to unhealthily!”

“I make no such promises!” Jaune said with a laugh, slipping out of the dorm.

Jaune made his way down the hallways of the dorm toward to the stairs that led outside. Where he encounters a quartet of familiar faces.

Jaune gave a friendly wave to Team RWBY as he walked towards them.

“Jaune!” Ruby said speeding over. “What are you up too? You’re not trying to ask Weiss out again are you?”

Jaune gave a eye-roll. “No, just heading out for the night. Just thought, I be a good friend and say hi.” Jaune said with stress on the word friend.

Ruby gave a laugh. “Sure, you are.”

The rest of her team caught up. Weiss in particular looked at him with suspicion,

“So, VB, whats the occasion for looking so sharp, you got a hot date tonight?” Yang asked giving him a approving nod.

“Hah, no, not tonight. I, uh, just gotta to get out for a night. You know? I just feel so trapped lately, and I want to not really think about things for a night.”

Ruby gave him a sympathetic nod.

While surprisingly Blake, the one he probably never interacted with, looked at him with a surprising level of empathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I hope you find what you’re looking for tonight.”

“Yeah me, too.”

Weiss then choose to cut in. “So, you don’t know what you’re looking for then?” Giving him a sharp look.

Jaune almost buckled under her gave, but straighten his back. “Uh, no, but, It’s not like I’m just idling around in Vale all nigh, I’ve got a couple places to hit up, but it’s not like I’m keeping to strict schedule, I either get to them or I don’t, I’m just trying to de-stress is all.”

Weiss huffed in disapproval, but said nothing in return. The Ice Queens love of schedules and appointments was approaching that of legend.

Yang then slung an arm around his shoulders, though she had to lean up to so. “Well, VB, that sounds fun and all, but Team RWBY as places to be and butts to kick, so go have your fun.”

Jaune untangled himself. “That’s the plan, you guys go stop crime or whatever trouble you’ll get up to.”

“We don’t always do that!”

Jaune raised a suspicious brow at that.

“We don’t!”

“Sure.” Then Jaune turned and walked away, feeling as though he had won that conversation.

As he was leaving, he heard Weiss call out. “Arc.” Jaune turned to looked at her. “Try to not make a fool out of yourself, tonight.” The barest hint of what may one day be a smile on her face.

“That’s not on the list, but I’ll add it in anyway.” He said turning around, not bothering to try to find sort of conversation with her. He knew where they stood relationship wise, and if it could improve over time, that sounds good, if not, well all he could hope is keeping thing civil.

-------

Jaune made sure to pop something for his motion-sickness before he bordered the bullhead, so the flight down wasn’t as terrible as it could be, it was still awful, but at least he wasn’t spewing his guts everywhere.

His stomach feeling wobbly made he strike eating off the list for now, so he choose his first destination, and walked through one of Vales, many, many parks. Admiring the well-tended plant-life and occasionally waving at anybody who waved at him.

After his stomach settled, he decided to walk towards the closest bookstore, and just browsed till he founded something interesting. He had less-time with keeping up with comic and whatever came out of Mistral, since coming to Beacon. Still he left the store with couple interesting comics and even a couple books on stuff relating to huntsman actives.

Finally his stomach had decided to let him know, he could refill it. He ended up at a nice steak house, and somehow managed to get to a table in under a hour.

Jaune set at a table looking over a menu, he had already decided on what steak he want, now it was just onto sides.

A waitress then made herself known. “Hello, hello, what can I get you today?”

Jaune recited his order.

“Right, well have it out as soon as possible. Also, from the rest of us here, we’d like to think you for your service.”

Jaune’s face crunched in confusion.

“Huntsmen are a invaluable part of our society, and as such, we’d like you to know that your meal is on the house tonight, if you require anything else, please just call.”

Then his waitress left, somehow managing to make Jaune feel appreciated and also like a complete piece of shit.

----

The meal was delicious, and Jaune had made sure to leave a nice tip anyway before leaving.

Did his dad get free meals like that? Did all huntsmen just get their bill wavered?

Jaune paused for a moment and sat on a bench, thinking.

He stares out into the evening light and all the people out there, living there lives, good or bad, they were still people weren’t they? They were probably didn’t even think about how to they need to get stronger, or how to kill the next grimm they face, were they?

They shouldn’t have to either? Should they, since that was his job kinda. Jaune thought for a second, he might not be a real huntsman, or even a real huntsman in training, but whats to stop him from faking it till he made it for real? What does it matter if the arms that carrys the sword has trained for two years or two months, if it can cut, it can serve.

If people were going to honor him as a huntsman, he was going to honor them by acting like one.

There wasn’t a smile on his face, but there wasn’t a frown either.

He didn’t have time to idle anymore, he needed to get back and work off this meal.

‘KAAAA-BOOOOM!!!’ A sound like none Jaune had heard before tore the air into pieces, it was so loud that it put any sound he heard before into a whimper. It was like the crack of thunder on a scale inconceivable, like lightning striking turned up to twelve.

His hearing was protected by Aura, and it was still ringing.

He turned his head towards the source of the sound, towards Beacon, and towards Patch, towards were he say the source of several more sources of the sound, and a terrible, but wondrous site.

Of what looked like one of those things Weiss summoned before, but bigger, on a scale that could cover entire city blocks!

A pillar of sheer white light stuck Beacon, and in a moment of realization, what must be Signal on Patch.

A light so bright and terrible, Jaune felt it burn against his aura, and could see the fires start around the Emerald Forest. He carefully took his hand off his ear, the sound pound like a hammer into his head, and he could see the bones through his skin. He slapped his hand back across his head.

The pillars kept of their thunderous booming for several minutes, as Jaune covered his ears, watching in utter horror.

It felt almost like a the air was slapping against his bones, and sound was hitting against his bones, rattling and shaking them.

The ground as shaking too he realized.

Silence and darkness.

The pillars suddenly disappeared, and a vacuum of sound was left over.

The city was now dark and silent, as day left night along, as the lights in the city did not turn on, as the only light was that of the fires, there was no sound at first... Then the screams started.

AN: I can’t believe everyone, but, Jaune just got fucking Isekai’d.

#Jaune Arc #The Burdens of Lordship AU

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openheartthot · 4 years

Text

Sick Day

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Camille Prescott)

Word Count: 1,635

Warnings: This might be hard to read if you’ve been having trouble with a certain pandemic ~ahem~ so be warned there is a virus involved here. Also like one curse word.

Summary: Ethan can’t stay away when Camille comes down with the flu.

Y’all were so sweet with my first story that I’m back with another one today. Thanks to everyone that read and enjoyed, it really means a lot! :)

***

His knock echoes in the empty hallway, and Ethan shifts uncomfortably. He can’t just stand outside her apartment all day. At some point, he’s going to have to accept that she’s not answering the door. Still, he can’t help himself from raising his fist to the door and rapping his knuckles against the wood once more.

The knock is a bit harder than he means for it to be, a sign of his desperation. He needs to see her, needs to know that she’s okay. Until he can see her with his own eyes, every minute that he’s left standing out in the hallway is torture.

Finally, as Ethan is reaching for his phone to call Sienna Trinh and demand her assistance, the door slowly swings open. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Camille standing in the doorway.

“Ethan?” Camille’s voice is raspy, and she wraps her arms around herself, shivering despite the oversized UPenn crew neck she’s wearing. Besides the sweatshirt, all she has on are a ridiculous pair of over-the-knee pink wool socks. As outrageous as the socks may be, Ethan’s mouth goes just a little bit dry at the sight of her bare thighs. “What are you doing here?” Camille asks, her confused tone wrenching Ethan’s attention away from her legs.

“Erm…I just thought I’d deliver these to you.” Ethan says, brusquely thrusting a thick stack of patient charts into her arms. The excuse sounds flimsy even as it leaves his mouth. “I heard you called in sick, so--”

“So you left Edenbrook to come give me my patient charts?” Camille interrupts, bemused. “You know we have digital copies of these, right?”

“Of course.” The silence between them stretches out for just long enough to become awkward. Ethan knows she’s waiting on a real explanation, and furthermore, he knows he owes her one. “I was…concerned. When Baz told me you wouldn’t be in, all I could think about was if you’d been hurt…or…” He swallows hard. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Ethan,” Camille reaches out and takes his hand. Ethan notes the heat emanating from her skin. “It’s just a virus. And we still haven’t had a chance to talk over everything yet. The last thing I wanted to do was drag you away from work to take care of me.”

It’s true. They still haven’t spoken about the kiss outside of Ethan’s apartment, or the kiss at Mass Kenmore, for that matter. Ethan’s so buried in his thoughts that he almost doesn’t notice Camille swaying slightly, letting go of his hand to grip the door frame for balance.

He immediately steps closer, steadying her with a hand on her waist. The back of his other hand, he uses to press delicately against her forehead. He had been expecting fever, but he’s mildly alarmed by the heat radiating from her skin.

“Sorry,” Camille mumbles, leaning into him gratefully. “I’ve just been having some vertigo. Could be a symptom of--”

“The common cold. Or influenza. Type A has been going around this year.” Ethan interjects. “And don’t apologize for being sick.”

“I know what the flu is.” Camille says indignantly. “I should’ve known you’d try to one-up me when I’m on my deathbed.” she pouts, the congestion in her voice bolstering her self-pitying tone. Ethan’s lips twitch into a smile.

“You’re delirious. Can I take you to bed?” He instantly regrets his choice of words as Camille lets out a loud peal of laughter, which quickly tapers off into a coughing fit. “I meant, you need to lie down.” He glares at her, and she grins back.

“Fine, you’re right.” Camille turns, starting to pull away from him and take an unsteady step in the direction of her bedroom. She doesn’t get very far before Ethan tugs her back to him, cradling her face in his large hands.

“Let me take care of you.” he says, gently stroking her cheekbone. “Please.” Ethan knows her roommates are all working double shifts, and he can’t bear to leave her here alone. He’s certain his feelings are written all over his face because Camille’s eyes soften immediately.

Before she can say anything, Ethan leans down and scoops her up with ease. He carries her bridal-style into her bedroom and lays her down in her bed, trying very very hard not to think about what happened the first time he saw the inside of this room. Or the second time, for that matter. The sight of her bare ass is not something he’s likely to forget.

Once she’s safely tucked into her bed, Ethan moves for the door, bracing himself to take stock of her kitchen. Camille and her roommates don’t seem very domestic, but hopefully they’ll have enough ingredients for soup. Camille’s hand reaches out and closes around his wrist before he can reach the door.

“Stay.” Her eyes are slitted, her hand hot on his arm, but he can’t say no to her.

He kicks off his shoes and unknots his tie, sitting on the bed beside her. He hesitates for only a moment before drawing her towards him and wrapping an arm snugly around her waist. He runs one hand over her tousled blonde locks, and Camille lets out a little sigh, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes.

The afternoon has bled into evening by the time Camille wakes up, and by then Ethan has relocated to the couch. He’s slowly combing through the stack of patient files he brought with him. He pulls off his glasses and looks up as Camille shuffles out of the bathroom. She’s obviously just gotten out of the shower, because her wet hair is tossed up in a messy bun, but she’s wearing the same outfit from before.

“I made soup.” Ethan offers, gesturing towards the kitchen. Camille rubs her eyes, and despite her bleary eyes and rumpled appearance, his heart melts at her shy smile.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” She reappears from the kitchen a few moments later, holding a bowl of soup in her hands. She takes a few steps closer to him, eyeing the chart in his hands. “Read it out loud.” she insists, settling onto the couch next to him and tucking her legs underneath her.

“This is the case we’re working on right now.” Ethan says. “It’s Gwyneth Monroe’s assistant, actually. She had her first seizure last week, and a physical exam revealed multiple muscular cysts. Gwyneth requested our team immediately.” Ethan fights hard not to roll his eyes. As much as he dislikes the obnoxious Pictagram influencer, her assistant does need medical attention.

Camille swallows a spoonful of soup, then taps the spoon against her lips. “Well, it’s gotta be Cysticercosis, right? Cysts caused by tapeworm eggs. If the larvae have traveled to her brain, that’d explain the seizures. Not to mention that it’s pretty obvious where the eggs came from.”

Ethan nods, marking down a few notes on the chart. “Exactly what I was thinking, Rookie. Good work. We can start her on anti-parasitics and anti-inflammatories first thing in the morning.”

Camille grimaces, setting her half-empty bowl of soup to the side. “All this talk of larvae and eggs kinda makes me lose my appetite.”

Ethan chuckles, and sets the stack of files down on the coffee table as well. “That’s probably enough work for tonight. You need to focus on getting better as soon as possible. Come here.” He opens his arms for her, and Camille gratefully shifts closer to him, letting him fold her into his comforting embrace. Holding her is so nice that he doesn’t even mind her wet hair dripping all over his shirt.

Ethan swings his legs onto the couch, stretching out so Camille can maneuver herself to lie on top of him. Ethan has to admit, those ridiculous socks certainly feel nice as Camille tangles her legs with his, settling on top of him so every part of her body is flush against his. He strokes the strip of skin just above the hem of her right sock, and smiles as he feels her smooth skin break out in goosebumps.

“Thank you for taking care of me today.” Camille whispers against his chest. “I know we still need to talk, but--”

“Shh.” Ethan commands softly, tilting her chin up so he can meet her eyes. “I’ll always take care of you.” A slight shiver runs through Camille’s body, and Ethan suddenly realizes how close he is to her. Without thinking, he closes the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers.

“Ethan!” Camille protests weakly, pulling back after a kiss that is entirely too short for Ethan’s liking. “You’ll get sick.” she scolds him.

Ethan grunts. “I don’t care.” He grips her chin in his fingers, returning her lips to his. Her warm fingers reach up to touch his face, skating over his beard as she kisses him back. Even with the dry heat of her fevered skin and the taste of cherry cough drops on her tongue, she’s still the best thing he’s ever tasted.

He thinks he could probably keep kissing her forever, but eventually she breaks away to cough, which for some reason he finds endearing rather than disgusting. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, and she nestles her head into the crook of his neck, clearly intending to fall asleep again right there on top of him.

“I’ll take care of you,” Camille promises sleepily, “when you inevitably get sick from this.” And that’s when Ethan realizes that he really must be in over his head. Because if falling ill means he’ll get to spend another day curled up in bed with Camille, then he can’t think of a single thing he’d like to do more.

***

My taglist consisting of one lovely individual: @edgiestwinter

#open heart #oph #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #playchoices

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mystic-kitten-writer · 3 years

Note

Headcanon: uhm how the gaang treats yue or how they see yue shshhs

OKAY, so I decided to focus on the girls first because I went off (but are we really surprised? This is me we’re talking about).

I focused on how they met Yue, what made them click, and how they treat/view. Consider this headcanon for Limerence as it is developing, not as an end-all-be-all.

If you want one of the boys (Aang, Sokka, Zuko) let me know cause I’ll post it ASAP rather than dwindling around~

Katara

“Yue?” Katara would perk, before smiling, “She’s more than just a friend; she’s family, a sister.”

Katara, Aang and Sokka are the first ones to met Yue after she saves Aang. Immediate reaction - grateful.

Secondary reaction - worry. Katara’s blue eyes settled over Yue, and saw how frail she looked. Her clothes dirty and torn, hair a birds nest; she was skin and bones. Katara’s ‘must-take-care’ instincts blaring.

The same day they met, they bonded;

Yue was sitting in the river under the starry night as Katara helped wash her hair. She couldn’t help but notice the tiny scratches and bruises that littered Yue’s skin, superficial. But she could imagine how they stung.

“Why don’t you heal yourself, Yue? You’re a Waterbender.” Katara asked with her brows pinched, confused to see all of Yue’s injuries. But Yue let out an awkward giggle, shyly sinking further into the water, “I-I’m a terrible healer.”

“I can teach you if you want.” Katara perked, happy to show off her skills to teach another.

But she quickly noted Yue’s expression in the reflection of the water. Her eyes heavy, lip trembling. It was an expression filled with deep pain and sadness, and without another word, Katara found herself embracing Yue from behind.

From that point on, Katara took on the big sister role despite being the younger one by a few months.

Katara sometimes stares at Yue and has to smile, happy to be by her side and watch Yue grow. She wasn’t the girl crying in the river anymore; she was the impending Queen of a Nation.

She always stands up for Yue and encourages her to put her foot down whenever someone disrespects her. Even Katara’s frustrated at how nice Yue is.

Very protective, and will lowkey judge the people Yue is around. She knows Yue is a bit naive and doesn’t want someone to take advantage #SorrynotsorryZuko.

A bit disappointed that Yue never Waterbended with her, despite asking her multiple times to train. She finally found another Waterbender, someone who was by her side full-time, and it proved fruitless.

The one time they did battle, Katara was about to go easy. She quickly realized never to doubt Yue’s fighting skills…but her healing could use some work.

Guilty for thinking Yue was a Firebender at first.

Was lowkey jealous at Yue’s and Aang’s relationship and how quickly they hit it off before realizing it is just Yue’s personality

Often bond in the hot springs with a nice face and hair mask, fantasizing about their future and wedding plans.

Katara’s go-to person to vent and shop with.

Will cook meals for Yue because Yue cannot cook to survive. Katara’s still baffled at how Yue managed to burn boiling water. Like seriously, how?

Often heals Yue’s bruises and scratches because she’s way too clumsy. Also stopped asking questions as to how she even gets hurt. A papercut from a teddy bear?

“Yue’s biggest strength is also her weakness, her heart.” Katara would softly speak, twirling her braid in her hands, “But that’s why we’re here. To make sure she’s okay and that she doesn’t live off sweets because that girl has a sugar addiction.”

Toph

“She’s alright, I guess… kinda whiny, always needing attention, we call her Princess for a reason- but…” Toph would start before stepping forward. She would cross her arms before whispering, “She’s an amazing baker and gives the best hugs. BUT YOU DIDN’T HEAR THAT FROM ME.”

Toph and Suki met Yue a few days after the others, and the first thing she noticed was how damn light Yue was on her feet, another Airbender?

Yue was quick to greet Toph, voice chirpy and filled with life, and for a moment, Toph thought Yue was going to be an absolute chatterbox. Talking her ears off until they bled. Imagine her surprise how quiet Yue got after their greeting, standing off to the side as the others spoke.

Toph would study her movements, how she twirled her fingers, pulse racing…

Their moment of connection would come days after, Toph feeling the ground underneath her vibrate, just a touch. It was enough to wake her up from her slumber, feet embedded on the ground and searching for those light footsteps. Toph would begrudgingly follow, thinking it was Aang taking a late-night stroll before they suddenly stopped.

“The stars… they’re beautiful tonight. Want to experience them with me?” Yue would hum, taking Toph off guard.

“I’m blind-”

“You of all people should know there is more than one way to experience the world.”

Toph would snort, kicking the dirt under her feet, “Oh yeah? Explain colour to me.”

Toph could feel Yue walked towards her, bending over, a distinct pulling sound-making light, before standing upright. Yue’s hands gently reached for Toph’s, letting something dewy in nature fall into her palms.

“Green… it’s the grass and leaves, soft and tickles your toes. Filled with life. It’s not my favourite colour; I enjoy red much more. Red is the colour of the blaring sun against your skin. Like a festering burn, pulsing with strong vibrations.”

Yue’s wasn’t that bad after all.

Abnormally tolerate to Yue’s need for physical affection. Timed ‘hugs’ are a norm (don’t want to let Yue know how much Toph loves them, or else she’ll never hear the end of it).

Careful about her tone with Yue. Rarely raising it like how she would with Sokka or Katara because Toph could feel how Yue’s heart would race.

One of the few people Toph would willingly let touch her feet and pamper.

Toph listens to Yue’s rants about fashion or makeup because there was something about hearing her heart skip - she dares say it, it was cute.

Toph went from feeling indifferent to Yue to finding an odd sense of comfort in her presence. An Aang 2.0, but a lot more sensitive and a way better baker.

Views Yue as a best friend and typically calls her Princess because she is one.

Taught her that being feminine in nature doesn’t equal weak. You can be fabulous and kick ass.

Will unconsciously take a big sniff around Yue. She smells good, like baked goods.

“She may be a crybaby…but she has a good heart.”

Suki

“She’s too cute!” Suki would laugh, smiling fondly at all the memories that seemingly flashed through her mind. “Yue is like a kitten. She’s cute and shy, but she has that curious spirit inside. A mischievousness that you’ll never expect to see.”

Suki met Yue at the same time as Toph, but because Sokka introduced Yue to her with much glee, Suki immediately opened up.

Funny enough, unlike the rest who shared a bonding moment via a direct personal experience, Suki realized she loved Yue when seeing how she spent time with Sokka.

Suki was lounging on the sandy beaches in the Earth Nation, enjoying the sun kissing her skin with the waves crashing in the distance. Sokka proclaimed that he was a sandcastle master, and Suki watched with lowered sunglasses how Sokka and Yue spent precisely two hours building a monstrously of a sandcastle.

Seeing Yue and Sokka bickering and having fun like siblings struck a chord with Suki. She was going to love anyone who can make her boyfriend that happy.

Suki dusted herself off from the sand, coming behind Yue and placing her hands on her shoulders, “Want to come shopping tomorrow with me downtown?”

“Me?” Yue would gasp, her eyes wide.

Suki would smile, eagerly shaking her head, and she saw that happiness spread over Yue’s face, “I would love to!”

Girls night is a tradition between them, getting tipsy- drunk on wine and spoiling Yue with dresses.

Guilty of being the ‘devil on her shoulder.’ Suki can’t help it; she loves Yue’s eagerness to try new things and learn, but her shyness always got the better of her, and that’s where Suki comes in.

Half of their conversations go from sweet to sexual in under ten seconds.

Besides Aang and Sokka, Suki’s the closest to Yue, they’re practically sisters.

Like Katara loves hyping Yue and encouraging her to stand up for herself and seek happiness. Suki knows Yue always puts herself second; that’s why she pampers Yue whenever she can.

Love teasing Yue with Toph. It’s just too easy.

“She’s a girl’s best friend, the best shoulder to cry on, and the easiest to tease.”

#atla #katara #suki #toph #asks #ask me anything #anon answered #headcanon #zuko #ying yue jiang #zuko x oc #limerence #masterlist #request #requests #my OC

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the-odd-job · 3 years

Text

A primeverse drabble of Sideswipe confusing Jack with genders (I guess the kids haven’t yet learned Cybertronians have no concept of genders) and being kinda overpowered, on account of being a Shockwave made supersoldier and all that. Written while half dead and not proofread so I apologize for any and all weirdness and errors.

“I just landed on Earth. I would really appreciate it if you could tell me where the local Autobot base is, before the ‘Cons find me.”

There were some confusing signals here. On one hand the red Cybertronian down on one knee in front of them, smiling an easy, friendly smile, had a high, young, feminine voice, thin waist, and wide hips. But on the other, their facial features weren’t altogether fitting for a female, and their shoulders were broad. It was a confusing dichotomy, when so far all the mecha they’d met had fallen pretty easily in one of two camps: mech, or femme. Male or female, as it was. This one—Sideswipe, they’d introduced themselves—broke the norm set by everyone else, and Jack felt a lot like he shouldn’t even try to fit them to a specific box because really, gender was a complicated thing and not everything fit into neat boxes– “You don’t have the Autobot insignia,” Raf pointed out, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose. Jack focused back on the rest of it at that and quickly scanned the red mech’s frame. And it was true, there was no insignia to be found anywhere on her (his?) frame, only an empty space at the center of her chest that looked like it should’ve held an insignia. That was… A little odd. The femme glanced away at that, shifting uneasily. “There were some… Circumstances that forced me to get rid of it. You know, to save my skin,” she shrugged. “What kind of circumstances?” Miko asked, taking a step closer. There was challenge in her voice, demanding answers, an explanation. “It’s war out there,” Sideswipe sighed in answer, looking weary despite her youthful voice. “And you’re not always in the position to fight. I had to pass off as a Neutral for a while, so… Bye bye markings of the faction I actually belong to.” Seemed… Reasonable enough, at least to Jack’s very lacking knowledge of what interstellar politics were like. Or was it intergalactic? He wasn’t quite sure how far their friends had actually come from. Miko frowned, but she didn’t have too much of an argument either. Other concerns existed, though. “How do we know you’re actually an Autobot?” Raf asked. To their surprise, Sideswipe outright laughed at that. It was a pretty pleasant sound. “What else would I be?” she asked, giving them a lopsided smile. And it was true, her bioights and optics were blue, like Autobots’ were, and like Decepticons’ really weren’t. Jack shared a glance with Raf and Miko. They’d still need to talk to their ‘Bots before they could just tell a stranger where the base was, but– A sudden roar of engines was followed by the sounds of three different transformation sequences. “Jack! Raf! Miko! Get away from him!” Bulkhead’s voice rang out behind them and they all turned to look to see their guardians running towards them. Urgent, almost… Fearful? Him? Sideswipe? A soft hiss of pistons had them glancing back at the red mech, who rose back to his pedes. And it was only now that they could really appreciate how tall he was. He towered over Arcee, even over Bumblebee. Only Bulkhead could match his height. All of this… Probably meant Sideswipe wasn’t an Autobot after all. That suspicion was confirmed when the color of his optics suddenly changed, bleeding from blue, to purple, to red. Starting from his helm the color bled along his biolights, blue slowly draining to give way to devilish red. This was bad. “Run. Run!” Jack yelled at his two human friends, urging them both into motion ahead of himself, and together they bolted towards their guardians. And then behind them, coming to a stop only when Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead were all securely between them and Sideswipe. But the red mech didn’t even try to pursue them, merely straightened himself… Lifted his chin. A smile was playing on his lips, and he looked utterly unconcerned with the fact he was outnumbered three to one. “Ha! Sideswipe doesn’t stand a chance! Better run, ‘Con!” Miko whooped. Jack wasn’t so sure, and from the look on his face, neither did Raf. “What are you doing here, Sideswipe?” Arcee asked, snarling. Sideswipe shrugged, closing his optics demurely. “I heard Megatron was here on Earth. Figured the action would be with him.” “Well, you’re not welcome here,” Bulkhead growled, and it was really, really getting to Jack how relaxed Sideswipe remained. He had no right to be in the face of three warriors as skilled as their guardians were. They kicked ‘Con aft on the regular! “That’s just rude,” Sideswipe sighed, deigning to look at the lot of them again. “I think Megatron would disagree.” Three engines revved before the Autobots on the scene attacked. Arms transformed into blasters; Bulkhead went to close the distance for some good old melee pummeling. Sideswipe’s smile never wavered. And yeah, Sideswipe was as tall as Bulkhead was, but he was considerably lighter built. He was no Breakdown. Despite that, the red mech moved to meet Bulkhead’s charge, and… Swords extended from his arms. And kept extending. And kept extending. And kept extending until they almost brushed the ground. It wasn’t the quick shink that the blades of ones like Optimus and Arcee came to play with. This was slow, methodical—for show, almost. Sideswipe deftly avoided the blaster fire aimed at him, reached Bulkhead, and then they clashed. Except, it wasn’t the epic smashdown it was supposed to be. It wasn’t two titans coming to blows. Bulkhead undoubtedly had brute strength on his side, but Sideswipe moved like quicksilver, always staying two steps ahead of Bulkhead’s attacks, always evading every crippling blow he should have taken. And those swords he had… Slag, you’d have thought their length would be a problem, make them unwieldy. But their slow introduction into the battle was nothing but show, he was sure of that much now. Sideswipe proved well enough that he could both extend and retract them in seconds by doing just that. Every time his swords should’ve gotten in the way, they suddenly disappeared, only to reappear a moment later. And more often than not, that ended with cuts on Bulkhead that the green mech couldn’t block because of the unpredictability and sheer speed Sideswipe employed. Arcee joined the fray, and that should have tipped the scales. Arcee was a fast fighter too, and together her and Bulkhead should have had well enough destructive prowess to bring down any common ‘Con. Except Sideswipe wasn’t common, was he? He was like a dancer when he moved between Arcee and Bulkhead, smooth in every motion—blocking, moving out of the way, attacking to a devastating effect. Bumblebee couldn’t get shots in without risking hitting his comrades, so he went melee also. Three on one. For real, in close quarters. And it never stopped looking like Sideswipe had the upper hand. How was he that fast anyway? It looked almost unnatural—until Jack noticed the bit of heated air that accompanied every particularly fast motion.

Could a mech have jets built into them to enhance their movement speed..? Sideswipe never once lost his smile, despite cutting bleeding gashes into their guardians with his blades that appeared and retracted at a punishing pace. Bumblebee’s leg was almost severed. Arcee got a deep cut across her abdomen. Bulkhead was littered with wounds even his armor couldn’t protect him from. Miko didn’t look so confident anymore. In fact, he was pretty sure horror was reflected on all their faces as they watched the slow obliteration of their friends. He wasn’t… Slag, he wasn’t even sure Sideswipe was all that serious. He made it all look so effortless, like he wasn’t even trying.

He was seriously getting worried they were about to watch their guardians get killed, or at the very least, severely incapacitated, but then, a space bridge opened behind them. They glanced over their shoulders to see Optimus walk through the spinning portal, and relief flushed his veins. There was no way even Sideswipe could stand up against Optimus Prime. Right? “Sideswipe,” Optimus rumbled with a clear note of displeasure. The fight broke off, their injured friends retreating a few steps away as the Prime approached. Sideswipe didn’t try to continue the fight and straightened back to his full height, carelessly flicking some energon off the end of his left hand sword. “Optimus. Long time no see,” he smiled, and could he not freaking stop smiling?

“Does Megatron know you’re here?” Optimus asked, coming to stand beside his comrades. The red mech just shrugged, glancing away and rocking on his heels—not answering. What did that mean? That the Decepticons didn’t know about him? Could that mean he could be captured without the ‘Cons being none the wiser to it? Or killed, even? “Sideswipe, I cannot let you harm my soldiers, or the humans,” Optimus said. “I believe you are a threat if left be.” Sideswipe made an amused sound. “Can’t really disagree with that,” he said with a wry grin, and now Jack could get a good look at his fangs. Definitely a Decepticon through and through. How had they gotten fooled even momentarily? “But,” the red mech continued, inspecting his swords, “I can’t just go quietly, can I?” A shiver ran up Jack’s spine at the words. Sideswipe lifted one of his arms, pointing his sword at Optimus. The threat was clear as day. Did that mean Sideswipe was powerful enough to challenge even Optimus? No, not just Optimus, but Optimus, Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee? That couldn’t be. There was no way that could be. And maybe it wasn’t, because a vortex opened up behind Sideswipe too, and– Through walked a mech with near identical frame design, only this one was colored in bright gold. “I’m not late, am I?” he asked, and if Sideswipe’s voice was high, the new mech’s was deep, rough, traveling to his core and all but shaking it. “There’s two of them?!” Miko whispered urgently, and Jack knew what they all were thinking. If this new arrival was as strong as Sideswipe was appearing... “Not late at all, Sunny,” Sideswipe smiled, glancing at his near-copy when he came next to him. “Not late at all.”

#transformers #maccadam #tfp #sideswipe #sunstreaker #optimus prime #bulkhead #arcee #bumblebee #jack #raf #miko #fic #2020 #primeverse #love/hate heartbreak

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castiel-barnes · 3 years

Text

Help me!

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x fem!reader (Y/N).

Summary: Both you and Whiskey were on a mission together, when one of you get injured.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Brief mention of fun times. Mentions of blood. Injuries. Swearing. Angst i think. Fluff. Most likely medical inaccuracies. Mentions of amputation.

A/N: I know I do a lot of Fem! Reader, but that's cause I'm confident with writing that. I will in the future at some point do other types other than Fem.

Tags: @phoenixhalliwell @scribbledghost

You and Jack had been seeing each other for a while now. Both adoring each other and having nice little dates and looking after each other. But at work you both kept a professional relationship, except when you snuck off to Jacks office during your lunch times.

*****************

This mission did not go how you or Jack expected. It was meant to go so smoothly that you were meant to be back on the jet within the hour. But. That didn't happen. At all.

The two of you were pinned behind some trees. You behind one tree closest to the warehouse and Jack behind you at another tree. The task that Champ had given the two of you had been completed with ease, but the situation was getting back to the plane.

"WHISKEY! WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE WE DO?" You shouted over to him over the gun fire,

"WE'LL HAVE TO COVER FIRE FOR EACH OTHER!" He shouted back at you. You gave him the nod for him to cover you whilst you were meant to run past him. As you started to run towards him, you felt a hot sharp pain going through your knee which then suddenly buckled just a few metres from Whiskey.

You hit the ground with a dull thud, trying to save your fall without hitting yourself with your own gun. Looking down at your leg, you see the crimson liquid seeping onto your trouser leg surrounding your knee.

"S-shit. WHISKEY!! HELP! Help me!" You called out to him, seeing him glance quickly down at you in a state of panic.

"I'm gonna get you darlin' don't you worry" he replied. You then heard him shoot off all of his rounds that he had in his revolvers, and then the lovely low hum of his electrified lasso. By this time, you were trying to concentrate on your breathing, which definitely wasn't helping the pain. There was a sudden silence, and Whiskey came over to you worried.

"You couldn't have done that earlier?" You chuckled wincing,

"Hey now. You know what I'm like. Shit honey" Jack looked at your knee, "I'm gonna wrap you up and we're gonna get you back to the plane okay" he continued getting out the medical kit. You nodded and let him get to work on wrapping a bandage around your knee.

"FUCK! Jack shit ahhh." You almost screamed in pain, trying to wiggle away from him,

"I know honey. I know, just a lil longer." He replied to you. Jack had finished wrapping up your knee, and was starting to help you up gently.

"I've got you darlin'. Put your arm around my neck." He said again, and you complied. The two of you made it the majority of the way back, but then you started to feel tired and everything seemed to spin around you. You was losing a lot more blood than either of you had expected.

"Jack? I ain't feeling so good." You confessed to Jack, your movements starting to slow even more.

"Hey, hey! You're alright sweetheart. Come on darlin' need ya to stay awake for me. Y/N, come on stay awake." Jack started saying as you went completely limp in his arms as he scooped you up.

"Ginger we need medical on the ground when we get back ASAP. Gin is losing a lot of blood." Jack said over comms to Agent Ginger,

"Copy that Whiskey, med team is on stand by." Ginger replied.

On the plane, Jack had wrapped your knee in another bandage keeping the pressure on it. You came too slightly.

"Jack?" You whispered,

"I'm here darlin' don't you worry. We're 5 minutes from HQ, Gingers already got the Med team on stand by." Jack replied worriedly stroking your hair hair back. You leant into his touch slightly and passed out again.

Once you had got back to HQ, you were pale as a ghost. The medical team instantly set to work as you went into the operation room, to remove the bullet from your knee. Jack paced nervously outside the room, if Champ hadn't of got him to sit down. Jack would've worn through the floor.

******************

Day and a half later:

You had been unconscious for the past day and a half. You didn't know when you got back to HQ, or even how you managed to get to the medical Wing. But you were there.

Jack had been sitting next to you since you had come out of the operating room. He stayed there the whole entire time with you, reading to you occasionally while you laid there. Coming too slightly, you could hear Jack singing quietly. Sounded like American Pie by Don McLean, it was one of your favourite songs a special song for the two of you.

"I like when you sing honey." You croaked, opening your eyes squinting at the bright light.

"Hey darlin'." Jack stated moving towards you and kissing you on the forehead. "How you feeling?" He continued asking.

"Like shit. How long was i out for?" You confessed, as you smiled when he kissed your forehead.

"Day and a half. Your knee kinda bled quite a lot. You were so pale darlin', you got me scared sugar." Jack admitted, stroking your hair back out of your face,

"I'm sorry I scared you Jack. What did they do to my knee?" You asked feeling the hefty brace on your leg.

"It's ok baby, but please don't try scare me again. I don't know if this old cowboy heart can handle scares like that. And your knee, well basically they got the bullet out. But your actual kneecap." Jack looks down and sighs squeezing your hand. "Your kneecap practically shattered when the bullet hit it. Which kinda damaged a bit more than just your kneecap, so you might have to get a complete reconstruction of your knee." Jack continued looking at you.

"Oh... okay." You replied in a small voice, not knowing what to think or say.

"It's all gonna be okay i prom-" Jack started to say before you cut in,

"Jack what if I have to amputate my leg? I mean reconstruction would be good, but I also don't want to be in pain for the rest of my life. But with amputation, I won't be on pain but I probably won't be able to go on missions." You started ranting with tears slowly down your face. Jack wiped away your tears and cupped your face to make you look at him.

"Hey, hey honey. Y/N! look at me." You looked up at him sheepishly. "It's what you decide sweetheart. If you want to get reconstruction or get it amputated, it is completely up to you. I'll be with you the whole time." Jack continued making sure you kept looking at him. The two of you sat there for a moment and you leant over the best you could to hug him.

"Thank you Jack. I love you." You whispered in his ear,

"It's okay sweetheart. I love you too so much." He replied kissing you gently on the lips. You always liked his kisses, always so nice and soft except when one of you came home from a rough mission and craved each other.

"You hungry darling?" Jack said upon hearing your stomach grumble,

"Yeah, just a little bit cowboy." You responded smiling.

"What do you want?" He asked. You sat there for a moment thinking and then you came up with what you wanted.

"McDonald's please Jack. Chocolate milkshake and a double cheeseburger with fries please." You looked at him with puppy dog eyes. He chuckled and pulled you gently back into a hug.

"Ok darling, McDonald's it is. I'll send one of the younger agents to go grab it." Jack said giving your forehead a kiss. "I'm gonna send someone to get the food okay? But I'm quickly gonna run up to my office to grab something." He continued smiling and giving you a deep kiss.

“Okay.” You replied to him smiling.

**********************

Jack’s office:

Jack stood there behind his desk briefly looking into his draw. There laid the box, the one he had hidden from you for months. The times you had been sat in his lap or bent over his desk, you were none the wiser of the gift that he had for you. Pulling out the box he opened it and examined the ring. There were only two people that knew about the ring Champ and Whiskey himself.

"You gonna do it?" Champ asked standing in the doorway to Jack's office,

"Yeah. I can't waste anymore time, especially after what happened on that mission. I just can't waste time." Jack responded closing the box.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Jack asked looking up at Champ,

"Y/N will love it Whiskey. Don't you worry. Now go do it son, don't want her waiting." Champ replied with a smile.

"Yes sir." Jack said smiling and placing the box in his pocket and then grabbing the current book you're reading. Walking over to the lift, Jack straightend his tie and stetson. To say he was nervous was an understatement. He was shitting himself. He knows you love him with everything you have. And before he met you and before he joined Statesmen, he was married to his high-school sweetheart. He knew what it was like to propose to someone, but that didn't help the nerves.

Arriving back in the medical wing, he walked in to find you doodling on a random notepad Ginger had given you to keep yourself occupied.

"Hey honey, how you feeling?" Jack asked kissing your head,

"Better than I was earlier thanks baby. What have you got there?" You responded asking him with a slight tilt of your head. Jack smiled and passed you the book.

"I got your book for you. And I have something to ask you." Jack started pulling out the ring box without you noticing. "Darlin' I have loved you since the first day I met you, and yes I know it's been a long time since I first met you. The past couple of days, I've realised that I can't waste anymore time without asking you. Y/N Y/L/N will you do the honour of being my wife?" Jack continued opening the ring box, presenting the ring to you.

You sat there stunned for a moment, tears welling in your eyes. Looking down at the ring and then back to Jack.

"Really?" You asked Jack. Smiling he nodded and looked at you hopefully,

"Yes! Fucking yes." You said with tears now streaming down and hugging Jack as best as you could. Jack hugged you back and kissed you.

"I'm glad you said yes sugar. I couldn't waste anymore time." Jack confessed finally slipping the ring onto your finger. “I was gonna take you to your favourite park and all and set up a little picnic for us. But when I saw you laying there pale as a ghost, I was so scared darlin’ so scared.” Jack continued with a slight crack in his voice. You pulled out of the hug from him and smiled cupping his cheek with one hand whilst the other held onto his hand.

“I’m so sorry I scared you baby. But just remember that I love you with all of my heart and will never leave you ever. Understand?” You replied, getting him to look into your eyes. He nodded and kissed you gently on the lips, pulling you into another hug.

The two of you stayed in the medical room for quite a while, and Jack laid on the bed with you so the two of you could cuddle more easily. Eventually, Champ had come down from his office to check in on the two of you.

“Well. Did she say yes?” Champ asked. You smiled and held up your left hand to show him the ring. He smiled and came over to give your forehead a kiss and pat Jack on the back. Champ had been like a father figure to the two of you for a long time now, and he knew that before the two of you had even gotten together or even before the two of you realised that the you both had crushes on each other. It was only right that Champ knew first.

“Well it’s about time ain’t it son? Whiskey has had that ring in his desk draw for months now.” Champ continued. You felt the heat rise in Jack as he blushed, because you never realised that whilst making love to him in his office that he had an engagement ring for you.

“Oh did he now?” You asked playfully rubbing his arm because you knew he was embarrassed.

Over a little bit of time, the two of you went home and started to discuss things about the wedding and the recovery for your leg. And one thing you were glad for was that Champ gave Whiskey some time off to help with recovery and to be the Statesmens best lovebirds.

#agent whiskey #Pedro Pascal #fluff #writing #statesmen

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years

Text

a simple romance — tsukishima kei

1.5k words | genre/s: fluff, 80s!au | warning/s: — | pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

↪︎ in which you and tsukishima celebrate a simple anniversary for your simple romance

a/n: kinda plotless and just mindless word throw up because im a homeless romantic who’s whipped for tsukishima, plus it’s my 500 follower special ✋🏻😌

you and tsukishima always had quite the simple romance. the only factor that was not exactly simple was that it was tsukishima who confessed first one september day. it was early in the morning the moment the sky bled its onyx night sky into an orangey-dawn.

you had barely left the safe confines of your home when the tall blond that waited outside your door in the crisp autumn air had nonchalantly confessed. usually it was him and yamaguchi waiting for you, but you figured he made his best friend walk ahead in order to be alone with you.

it was quite surprising, really. you assumed that all you were to tsukishima was nothing but a friend, someone so annoyingly bearable that he only let you stick around because you made him bentos once in a while. and in a surprising turn of events, you accepted his feelings and the two of you have been dating primarily on the low.

having your relationship known wasn’t exactly your main priority and neither was tsukishima’s. especially considering that if his volleyball team found out, they wouldn’t leave you alone for a second without bombarding you about why you would end up with someone as salty as him. the funny thing was that you often asked yourself that as well, but with how simple your romance was, there was nothing more to answer that question besides the fact you liked being with him. so you digress.

granted, since your relationship was more or less a secret besides only yamaguchi being aware of this fact, you and tsukishima often had to see each other in away from the sight of others. most of the time is was behind closed doors, but sometimes, sometimes, very early in the mornings you two would have a sweet rendezvous somewhere behind the gym before spending the rest of the hours before school starts on the field.

with you being a member of the track team and tsukishima being in the volleyball club, the field seemed like the only plausible reason why the two of you would be there. every friday morning you two would come early just to run around the track with the cool morning breeze and the tweets of songbirds tweeted among the peaceful silence.

you and tsukishima walked upon school grounds with water bottles in hand and your walkmans in the other. you had recently gotten a new one for your birthday, the latest 1984 Sony Walkman that was progressively better in sound quality than your boyfriend’s old 1982 model, to which he stated, “how much better can it be when your music taste is trash?”

you rolled your eyes and ran ahead of him. he gets quite annoyed when you do that as he isn’t necessarily the fastest runner. the only reasons why he does these morning runs is to be with you, so you ditching made him put on that cute pout you can’t resist. besides, you would reward him with a heated make out session behind the gym or the storage closet in return.

ten laps around the track was all you two ran, occasionally making small talk on the most existential topics on whether or not aliens exist or the stupid hypothetical questions about a zombie apocalypse—to which tsukishima would tease you and say he would feed you to the zombies. but it wasn’t to say that sometimes waves of comfortable silence wouldn’t fall upon you two. you concluded that no matter what, you would always find yourself in this type of tranquil silence with tsukishima. you had even forgotten your boyfriend’s stares of admiration, rather, you didn’t actually know if his gazes were of malice, indifference, or adoration, but whatever it was you hoped it was something good.

despite dating for a year now, you still couldn’t tell the difference, but you knew deep inside your gut that was accompanied by the same butterflies that all he means is nothing but love. and you wished to show that love as today was your anniversary.

and to which tsukishima thought you couldn’t get more breathtaking than the last time you had been at each other’s companies just yesterday, it seemed he had been proven wrong. you were teeth stark against the moonlight, divulged in night torn howls of winds and slick with honor. even at your worst, with skin frayed with abrasions and scrapped knees, tsukishima still found light within your fondness. and right now, you were filled with ichor of charming homemade raptures. your boyfriend couldn’t fathom how beguiled he was for a girl he hadn’t thought of more than an add on to his friendship with yamaguchi.

after your run, you two found yourselves resting upon the bleachers near the baseball field. you rested your legs atop tsukishima’s as he fiddled with your walkman. your headphones were now rested over your boyfriend’s ears as he listened to your curated mixtape of songs you specifically listened to on your runs with tsukishima. the songs that you burned on it were special to you and him and to you and him only. the songs that reminded you two of your first date during the night when you breathed out against the late night’s mist, inhaling the stars as you and tsukishima walked hand in hand through the city—of his quips of banter, his wisecracks of pleasantries, even his annoyingly amiable witticisms that would often put you in your place of not being as clever as your boyfriend—had a special place in your heart.

your gaze, warm in admiration as you looked upon his handsome features, took him in like a breath of fresh air. he was bobbing his head lightly to the music. it made a smile melt upon your face as your thoughts were scattered by the wind (a mere light breeze) as you exhaled your silk promises. your bare knuckles grazed over his as your hand lifted to his face, running your hand through his messy blond hair.

within seconds, the mixtape clicked to an end to which tskushima kissed your palm messing at his hair as he sat up. “this is actually good,” he mutters. “perhaps your music taste isn’t as bad as i remembered.”

“that’s funny considering most of my past music taste was from you.” you jested with a smirk on your lips.

he scoffs playfully, pecking your lips quickly. “yeah right, the majority of your mixtapes were nothing but queen and abba.”

“please tell me you’re not trashing queen and abba,” you rolled your eyes and feigning offense, “they’re literally iconic.”

“if you added some mötley crüe or tears of fears, maybe it would be better.” tsukishima smirks, making you huff. “but it’s fine as since it is our anniversary today, i figured i would be nice.”

“do you want to give our gifts now?”

tsukishima nods as he smiles, “so i can listen to it throughout the day.”

your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, “how’d you know i was going to give you a mixtape?”

“mere intuition,” your boyfriend jokes, causing you to shake your head as you reached into your backpack’s front pocket. “i actually burned you one too.” tsukishima did the same as the two of you faced each other once more with mixtapes in both your hands.

your fingers brushed each others briefly as you two traded gifts. and despite contact between the two of you hadn’t been scarce, there was still that same spark and radiating warmth that would consume you two.

both had cute notes attached to it as you had both read it.

FOR MY LOVE: the first mixtape of yours that isn’t complete rubbish and the first mixtape given to you for your new 1984 Sony Walkman that you won’t stop talking about. i don’t have to worry about you liking these songs because i know you will since i know you so well. i’ve also come to notice that you like to mix severely opposite genres on one tape i.e fleetwood mac and metallica like an absolute monster. so i did that on this tape for your sake. i love you, idiot. —tsukishima kei

FOR MY BLONDIE: even though you hate listening to mainstream music, i couldn’t help but put on the latest from michael jackson, madonna, and some city pop because who else would i scream these songs until my throat is raw with? but besides that, i added some more of your favorites like twisted sister. i can’t wait for you to make fun of this mixtape because i know deep down it’s going to be one of your favorites because it came from me. i love you, dickhead. — l/n y/n

you two sit in silence for bit, doing nothing more but being in each other’s presence and embrace. letting the world before you continue to move as you looked at the tape’s songs. you were immediately struck with the feeling of the nostalgic nights with tsukishima, laughing in the dark at two in the morning of messing around and reassuring pats on the back. you two were quilted blankets and moonless nights, of warm sunspots on a cloudy day, and cherry blossom petals falling upon your hair without noticing. you were tsukishima’s cure to boredom and lack of sleep. you two were each other’s everything.

it was your simple romance.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu oneshot #tsukishima oneshot #hq tsukishima

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nvvermore · 3 years

Note

“I wish you had of just done it for the thrill of it, but now you’re in deep shit.” - angst prompt

Is There Somewhere

“I wish you had just done it for the thrill of it, but now you’re in deep shit.”

words: 1438

cw: intoxication, sexual harassment, light blood/injury

Accompaniment

—

Julian was absolutely shitfaced. Amaryllis was mostly sober, and had decided they would stay that way as soon as they arrived at The Raven that night. On an average night they would describe him as drunk by the end of it, So why Julian was stumbling over his feet and words when it was only just past ten was beyond them.

When they swiftly slipped into their usual booth, surprisingly enough it did not take Julian very long to come join Amaryllis.

“My dear! There you are! I’ve been waiting for you allllllll night!” He announced, falling into the bench across from them. Thankfully, his hands were currently free of any drinks.

“You don’t look like you’ve done much waiting at all.”

“You took too long, I got bored.”

“Sure. Ilya I’m not here any later than usual, you realize that?”

“Ah! Then you’re right on time, I’m going to get you a drink. And one for me too. Or two?” Before Amaryllis could stop him he was off again, quickly making his way to the bar on his long and slightly unsteady legs. Amaryllis had just decided to zone out until he returned, when a man approached the table.

“You Leroux?” He asked, looking over his shoulder. Surely he already knew the answer. Amaryllis sighed, very discreet already.

“I’m not working tonight, I’m busy babysitting.” They explained with far less charm than usual. Somehow, the man took that as an invitation to sit down next to them. Another sigh. “Was I not clear?”

“Not working yet, or maybe with me it won't be work at all.”

“You’re already being quite the piece of work.” Amaryllis makes no move to scoot away from the man, or give any outward indication that they might be uncomfortable. And they weren’t really, just annoyed on the basis of not wanting to deal with anyone else tonight.

He puts his hand on their thigh. “Fine, work it is then, and I tip real well.” Amaryllis acts like they don’t feel a thing.

“I doubt you have the common decency to do so.” Glancing out into the rest of the tavern, their eyes catch on a head of auburn curls headed back this way. Amaryllis had to deal with this quickly. They were just beginning to conjure a strong suggestion spell to make the man do as they say, but Julian’s arrival beat them to it.

“What’s going on here?” He asked, a stein in each gloved hand. He sounded a little less belligerent than he did a few minutes ago, trying his best to sound stern.

“Buzz off dude, we’re busy.” He squeezed Amaryllis’s thigh, and while they remained indifferent, when Julian’s eyes caught the action he did not. In a flash, the steins were slammed onto the table and the man was being yanked to the floor by his collar. Definitely more vicious than Julian usually operated in fights, but he’d never before felt the need to get someone away from Amaryllis so strongly.

Once the man was on the floor Julian stepped around him, plopping down into the spot he had invaded moments ago. To Amaryllis, Julian this close was a more than welcome presence. He leaned back against the bench and splayed his arms out, staring the man down with a cocky smirk.

“Buzz off, we’re busy.” He mocked, and Amaryllis had to physically bite down on their desire to laugh. The man was clearly angered as he got to his feet, and if Amaryllis had expected what happened next, they would have mustered up that charm after all.

The man reeled back and delivered a swift punch right to Julian’s face. He jolted back up onto his feet at the impact, no hesitation as he threw himself into a fight with an opponent he knew nothing about. Another sigh from Amaryllis. Julian got into bat fights often, but never when this drunk and always as a sort of game. Two people would agree to fight, with rules, people made their wagers, and when Julian was involved Amaryllis stood by for healing afterwards. This was not any of that.

The two were throwing punches, many of them missing completely or were just ineffective from both sides. Hopefully the man was a shit fighter or just as intoxicated at Julian. Amaryllis’s suggestion spell wouldn’t work now with the man’s focus no longer on them.

Thankfully, before Amaryllis could come up with a way to end this that wouldn’t get them hurt, the man hit the ground hard, and Barth was approaching the scene.

“Devorak! What in the world?” The bartender asked, disappointed but not surprised at the scene in front of him. Julian’s lip was split and bleeding, and there was a sizable gash across his cheek. Amaryllis glanced to the hands of the unconscious figure on the floor, who had several rings on each of them. One of them they recognized instantly, the seal of a crooked family that resided in the Heart District. While Amaryllis didn't recognize this particular member, they had experience with the family before, and they were a kind of trouble Julian did not want to get into.

“Ce salaud was harassing me, and Ilya stopped him.” Amaryllis explained. Barth nodded, glancing between the three parties. “Though, we're going to need a room to lay low in, I can't get him home like this. And when he wakes, tell him his assailant was hauled off by the guard, and don't give him names. I'll deal with the rest tomorrow.”

“Ugh, alright. Next time maybe don't knock out whatever kinda bad news he is? Now I’ve got to deal with his sorry ass till he wakes.” Barth complained, but the amused grin he spoke with revealed otherwise. Julian, seemingly out of bravado for the time being, flushed and attempted to stutter out a sentence.

“Er- well, I can- let me ah. Clean up the mess?” He offered, wringing his hands together.

“Yea, your own mess of a face.” Barth then turned to address Amaryllis. “Take him upstairs and work your magic, would you? Take the third room on the left, on the house. My thanks for taking care of the trash.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Amaryllis mock saluted as they rose from the booth. Julian looked mildly offended as they support his weight all the way to the stairs.

“H-he's not the pirate here, you know.”

“Oh? And you are? I still don't believe you.”

“But it's true!”

“Mmmhmmmm…”

The pair make it upstairs without incident, Amaryllis sitting Julian onto the bed, where the exhaustion thanks to what just occurred finally hits him. Armed with a damp rag they sit next to him, tilting his chin about to get a better look at the damage. They hadn't noticed before that his nose had bled too, but all the cuts had already started to clot up. Another sigh.

“You know, It doesn't bother me when you get into fights, but I wish you had just done it for the thrill of it.” They dragged a thumb across his bottom lip, over the cut. Julian took a sharp intake of breath, which Amaryllis did their best not to react to. Passing over again, with magic this time, it was now healed. The only evidence it was ever there at all was the dried blood. “But now you’re in deep shit.”

“Who was he?”

“It's better if you don't know. I'll take care of it, you'll be fine.” They went about healing the rest of his injuries, then gently cleaning the blood off his skin.

“Will you be? Are you okay?” Amaryllis saw the genuine concern on his face and tried to avoid looking directly at him.

“I have it under control. And it doesn't matter, I've had much worse happen. He was merely a pest.” Julian remains oddly quiet as they help him out of his boots and gloves, to the point Amaryllis has to check to see if he'd passed out. Eventually, they get him in the bed and under the covers. “I'll get you some water, you're going to be hungover and sore-” Julian's hand grabbing onto theirs stops Amaryllis in their tracks.

“It does matter, you know.” He mutters, face a little too squished up against the pillow. Before Amaryllis can find the words to argue back he’s out cold, snoring lightly. Gently, they rest his hand back on the bed. Against their better judgment— the one that tells them to keep their distance, tonight being a great example of why— they run a hand through his hair, brushing his curls away from his face.

“Sweet dreams Ilya,” Amaryllis whispers, “Thank you.”

—

#despite the tws this isn't particularly heavy #this ended up a little longer #whoops #prompt asks #my fic #amaryllis leroux #sephet #amie fic #amie lore

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rightsockjin · 4 years

Text

A Little Bit of Stress

Summary: You and Namjoon haven’t had sex in God knows how long because of your mutually busy lives. Namjoon was stressed for the next comeback and you had students to motivate but how were you supposed to focus on your job when all you could think about was your boyfriend naked?

Rating: M

Genre: Smut, Fluff, tiny Angst

Word count: 14,456

Warnings: There is sex in this. Oral. Female receiving. Sexual spanking and playful spanking. Erotica…duh. BIg dick energy. And literal. You can feel it in your guts ladies and gents. Fingering, slight dirty talk. na na na na na na na na na na na na Soft DomJOON! A little angst if you squint. Very fluffy. Namjoon loves reader with all he’s got. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms. Nipple play-kinda. Bratty reader. Slight choking. Sensitive neck Joon. Ear eating.

Please don’t repost without permission. I worked really hard on this y’all.

`-admin OperaNickle

Stress. It was the root of nearly all of your problems.

Whether it was your skin breaking out in places it never did before, or his sour mood that seemed to swing from mild discomfort to full on don’t-touch-me-or-I-will-scream, it was getting to you both.

Currently, you were sitting on the warm beige couch that Joon had insisted on buying after you complained about the white one that the apartment had come with. You dropped your coffee all over it and painstakingly scrubbed it for hours with a resulting light brown stain.

Your hands were resting on top of one of the dark brown throw pillows you’d bought soon after, triggering his own purchase of an oversized, red orange, paisley rug to match. It was never ending. He’d purchase something, then you would equal it or outdo him.

You had pointed out one time after he’d bought the most outrageous and expensive thing yet– a dark brown mahogany wood coffee table that looked like an old time-y trunk– that he was furnishing your apartment and that it was a waste of his money. He’d merely chuckled and commented on the sheer amount of time he had been spending at your place since you two had become more than just friends.

“I’m just trying to repay you for all of the food I consume when I’m here. Really, you’re the one who’s losing since you have to put up with me.”

Still, you had made up your mind to somehow repay him for all of the things he continued to buy without your consent. He may be well off –that being an understatement– but he didn’t need to be throwing his money at you. You had a job. A fairly okay one at that. You could buy your own furnishings and feed him when he was over. Another reason for your submission to his lavish, albeit over the top, gift giving was because it had clearly been established as his love language. How could you say no to the way he expressed his feelings?

The slam of the refrigerator door alerted you from the story you had been reading on your phone. Your fingers accidentally scrolled right and closed the chapter you were on, causing the app to suddenly glitch and close. Your heart sank.

You frantically clicked on the app to open it and when the loading screen popped up you knew it was a lost cause. You hadn’t saved the story, nor had you memorized the title or author.

You slumped in your seat letting out an audible groan of pure frustration. You had just been getting to the good part. The part you had started reading the story for in the first place, and just like your sanity, it was robbed at the worst time possible.

“Damn it! Pinche iPhone de la pinche fucking madre, oh my God!”

You let the phone drop with a ringing thud on a spot on the floor. It was slightly muffled by the fibers of the rug, but your voice was loud and shrill. From his place in the kitchen, Joon looked over. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the glare on his face shift into confusion. He leaned on the bar that stood between the living room and kitchen and took two deep, calming breaths.

You were getting on his nerves. You could tell. It wasn’t his fault or even yours. He was constantly under a lot of pressure and recently he’d hit a rut working on one of the verses of his songs. Itt seemed to travel to everything he worked on. The melody he’d been producing that had been flowing out of him like a smooth river; stuck. The lyrics to his next solo song that had been as easy as speaking; cut short. The rap line song that had been his idea; missing only his part now.

The frustration and dissatisfaction had bled into his personal life. To be more specific, you. He’d been at your apartment almost daily. Something about how you usually get him to relax and therefore out of any writer’s block he’d have but now it didn’t seem to be working. On the contrary, you seemed to be making it worse.

It was torturous. To have him in your bed and not able to touch him or sooth him in any way was the definition of your own personal hell. He showered late at night after he got in from work on most days unless it was the weekend, in which case he showered at around nine to sleep a full eight hours or more. Then he woke up on the earlier side of the morning to try and write from the comfort of his – your – “our” couch. That usually lasted until you woke up, made some sort of breakfast that he pecked at then threw away because his lack of inspiration made “food taste bland”.

In a way, you felt inadequate. Your sole wish in this relationship was to make his life easier and you hadn’t been able to satiate him for one single second. You had always prided yourself on being able to calm him down, and this no longer seemed to be one of your strengths.

He even wasn’t as affectionate as usual. Now, you weren’t the kind of person to let things like this get to you. It was a dip. A problem that would eventually turn into a hill. The lower you fall the higher you rise . It was just a fact of life…so why did you suddenly feel like you were walking on eggshells and he was throwing them at your feet?

“Are you okay? Don’t think I’ve heard you curse like that…ever,” Namjoon said, sounding apprehensive.

Your pulse raced as the unfinished scene raced through your mind.

Namjoon caressed your cheek, his fingers rough from working out. His voice, deep. Gruff. Like he’d just woken up.

“Oh baby,” he whispered in your ear. His warm breath tracing the shell. A shiver ran up your spine that he pretended not to notice.

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you,” he kissed your earlobe, letting his tongue dart out for a split second to lav at the tender skin, “Your voice,” he kissed the shell with a slightly open mouth, “ your lips…”

He traced your ear with his tongue, strong from all the rapping and his accurate pronunciation of every single syllable. You couldn’t help but sigh as a blush tracked up your body and settled in your cheeks.

“Joon-“

“Shhhh,” he whispered, still working at your ear, “just relax baby. Let me take care of you. Let me love you.”

“Y/N,” Joon said a little louder, snapping you out of your reverie. Your breath was coming shorter, your own mind trying frantically to fill in what you hadn’t read. Did he kiss her next? Where were his hands? Still on her cheek? Was he as turned on as she was? What did he mean by “take care” of her?

“What,” you said, trying and failing to keep the slight bite from your voice. Regret filled you instantly. It wasn’t his fault that the app was glitchy.

His eyes widened, taken aback by your tone. Great. Now you made it worse. You must have hurt his feelings.

“What crawled up your ass,” he asked, succeeding in keeping his tone playful and soft but it still agitated you.

You felt a lick of fire flicked against your chest. Anger boiled in your stomach. He didn’t mean it. You knew that. Just as you hadn’t meant the snappy way you’d answered, but the monster inside of you was ready to growl.

You bit your lip trying to keep the retort in your throat. If you snapped again, he’d just leave. He didn’t need to be here. He had a dorm and people much nicer to be around. If you wanted to be alone for the next couple of days, it would be the perfect way to do it.

“Is it work still,” he asked again, his features softening once again in concern.

The monster retreated as quickly as it had come. The way he seemed to search your whole body as if it could tell him without your words what was wrong was endearing.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t a total lie. He’d said “still” and yes, it was a part of your major frustration. Not only was your boyfriend being uncharacteristically cold but your students seemed to be trying less and less every class. It was like no one cared to learn English or to study anymore. Perhaps it was you. Maybe it was that you just weren’t as good of a teacher as you had thought.

It had been plaguing you. Every time you walked into class, ready to inspire someone, yet they all seemed to want to run the other way. It was always in the back of your head. What if you lost your job? You would get kicked out of South Korea for sure. You weren’t a citizen. You weren’t married to one… not even close…

If you were sent back to the US, your parents would never let you hear the end of it. The “I told you so” s and reprimanding glares. The way they would no longer be able to brag about how brave and smart you were. It was eating away at you.

Of course, you hadn’t told Joon all of this. His job was enough to keep him up for days without his girlfriend adding to the pile. You knew you should tell him what was really wrong, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t tell him how crappy you’d been feeling without suddenly making the problem about you and not him and his much busier and more important life.

It had been steadily building. The anger. The frustration. The guilt. That, coupled with Joon’s complete disdain of your touch, had your own stress going through the roof. you couldn’t even remember the last time he’d made out with you, let alone had any sort of intimate moment.

So there you were. Frustrated. In far too many ways to count and no real way to fix it unless you wanted to do it yourself and honestly, you didn’t have enough alone time to actually try. As a result, you’d been scarfing down erotica fictions about your own boyfriend. The irony was not lost on you.

The only problem was that now that you knew what he was like in real life, all the renditions of him were just a bit off. You found yourself rewriting the fiction as you went, trying to imagine what the real Joon would do in that situation. Some were too out there to even consider reading. Some too perverse even for you. Some were so far from the real life Namjoon that they made you laugh but this one, the one that you had been reading before your stupid phone glitched, was very close to what you would assume Namjoon would act like.

The fake Namjoon was sweet. He was tender and called his girlfriend baby and jagi like he did to you almost exclusively in place of your name. He’d hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek multiple times softly just to remind her that he loved her.. He’d admire her hair and stared at her features as if committing them to his memory for later use. It was so purely Namjoon that it almost felt as if it was really him who had written it. Just for you. So you could have him when he was gone or unavailable. It had felt so real…

“Too many papers to grade?”

His very much real voice jarred you once again from your thoughts. It seemed he’d been doing that a lot lately. Or maybe you were just dozing off too often.

“Something like that,” you answered, crossing your arms over your chest. His oversized hoodie curling under your arms. You brushed a long braid over your shoulder with a satisfied grunt and let yourself slide onto the floor before you. Like his hoodie, you crumpled on the rug next to your phone which lay face down. Namjoon’s face winked up at you from one of the many photo cards of him you had and you couldn’t help but smile back at the miniscule Joon. You couldn’t help it. His smile made you smile. Too bad you hadn’t seen the real one in ages.

Gentle footsteps resonated off the white walls. You didn’t move. Your eyes glued to the ceiling as they got closer and you let your arms fall limply to your side. His face appeared directly in your line of vision, the ghost of a dimple on his left cheek as he half smiled for what felt like the first time in years. He looked down at your unmoving form.

“It’s got you all jelly like,” he said nudging your hip with his toes. You scrunch your nose in distaste.

“Don’t poke me you dork,” you hissed, still not moving, having found a comfortable position.

Namjoon rolled his eyes but sat down next to your head, his legs stretched out before him as he picked up the remote for the TV and went on Netflix. Within seconds you could hear the familiar music of your favorite franchise playing and you jerked unattractively to see.

The coffee table was in the way.

“Is that what I think it is,” you asked him, rolling your eyes to the back of your head to try to see him without moving.

“Why don’t you move over so that you can see for yourself?”

He patted his muscular thighs as an invitation. Did he want you to sit on him or lay your head on his legs?

You straddled him. Your hands rested on his shoulders as his smile grew. He was getting hard. You could tell, but his face remained simply at ease.. As if you were the most gorgeous painting he had ever seen and his sole job was to admire you. The only signs of his arousal were his dilating pupils and the third leg in his pants.

“Mmm,” you hummed looking back at the ceiling, “I’m kind of comfortable.”

You heard him scoff and couldn’t help the slight smile that graced your lips at his disbelief that mingled with amusement.

“Come on baby,” he groaned, “you’re going to turn down my thighs for the floor?”

“I don’t want to move Namjoon,” you argued, breathing deep so that your chest rose high enough to see through the excess fabric on your body. You could sense his eyes on you. Or was that your own desire tainting your perception?

“But… my thighs… and Harry Potter…” he whined. God, you loved it when he whined. Usually when you were being a huge brat and he turned into a puppy. It was delicious.

“But, the floor and my comfort,” you retorted, twitching your open fingers just for fun.

“Jagiyaaaa,” he groaned, grabbing the hand you’d just moved. He pulled on it to get you to move closer. Your head hit the side of his leg that was mostly covered by his black shorts. The small trip had cleared your view to the TV and you smiled triumphantly.

“Thanks Joon, now I can see,” you cackled as he let go of your hand and you turned on your side to see clearly. Professor Dumbledore had just started talking to a small cat with glasses.

For a couple of minutes, you sat in silence and his annoyance seemed to return. Just as the floor was staring to get uncomfortable and you were regretting your stupid choice to stay on the floor and not his thighs, one of his hands dropped down onto your eyes, blocking your vision entirely.

“Joon,” you said stiffly and you tried in vain to pry his… delectable… hands from your face.

“You either lay on my lap and watch the movie with me, or not at all,” he joked as you continued to wrestle with his long fingers.

“How am I supposed to get on your lap if you’re holding me down genius?”

“Oh sorry,” he said, lifting his hand then used both of them to place your head on his right thigh. You begrudgingly settled yourself on his muscular leg, thought internally you were cheering, pulling your braids out from under your body and over his lap. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw him looking at your hair with innocent desire.

“Jagi,” he said running his fingers over one of the braids that nearly touched the floor over his muscles, “can I play with your hair?”

Namjoon ran a hand through your hair, sniffing it.

“Jagi, you smell so good…” he said as he scratched your scalp lightly, “can I play with your hair?”

You choked on your own saliva for a second. You couldn’t swallow and you brought your hand up to cover your lips in case you coughed but the moment passed and your skin flushed as you imagined the short story again.

“Uh…ye-yeah. Go for it.”

Namjoon hesitated but pulled the hair ties off the ends of your hair and very slowly and tenderly began to undo the knots that made up your Dutch braids. It would be frizzy when he was done but you could always throw it up in a bun later. Besides, this was one of those things that you just absolutely adored about Namjoon.

He liked to play with your hair. It was soothing.. When you had mentioned it to Joon once as an anecdote that you enjoyed this action, he’d taken it upon himself to do it when he was sleeping over to help you drift off faster. He’d told you that he had an affinity for grooming people and the fact that you had mentioned that you enjoyed such ministrations made him excited.

His fingers drew small circles near the front of your head as he finished unbraiding one side of hair. Your eyes drooped as he stopped his small drawings and started to undo the other braid.

His fingers were skilled–there was no doubt about it–in many, many, ways, but maybe this was your favorite. You sighed, letting him massage your scalp as the movie played. You let your eyes close as the feeling of his hand on your head lulled you.

After a few blissful moments you realized you were falling asleep and you jumped up, throwing his hand off your head and nearly hitting his chin with your skull.

Joon’s eyes widened with surprise and confusion as he waited for an explanation. You smiled at the man before you cleared your throat and spoke.

“I was falling asleep.”

Namjoon relaxed his shoulder. He had been scared he’d done something wrong,

“That’s okay baby. I just want you to relax,” he said, pushing your head towards his lap again but you pulled his hand away and straddled his lap before stretching your legs behind him and hooking your ankles together.

“What are you doing,” he asked, his breath hitching as you rested your hands on his chest. You leaned into him slowly and rubbed your nose on his before nuzzling against his cheek.

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one relaxing,” you answered, bringing his hand back up to your head and he sighed, tangling his fingers once again. You did the same, running your hand from the nape of his neck and up to his scalp.

He let out a slow breath when you clutched at the strands and buried your head in his neck, running your lips over the skin there.

He had a sensitive neck. Whether it was sensually or just on the daily, he loved neck kisses. So you delivered without complaint.

As you pressed your lips softly on his pulse you couldn’t help but feel elated. Finally. He was letting you help. Finally, he was holding you like he used to. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask “why” as you usually would. You were too scared to shatter the moment. If all you got from him were caresses in your hair and all you got to give were kisses on his neck, then it would all be worth it.

One of his hands began to draw on your mid to lower back and you couldn’t help but curl around his body. Tighter. Closer. If you could suddenly melt into him and become one, you would do it in a heartbeat. But this was enough. For now.

You lightly bit his neck in a couple of different places, letting your tongue lick small stripes in the same place before kissing the saliva away. His breath deepened further. His hold on your body tightened as well, like he was trying to pull you into him. Both of his hands were splayed out on your torso. His fingers dig into the fabric of his hoodie on your body and his head lulled to the side so you could have better access.

Elation filled you to the brim. To have him so pliant under your touch was all you could ask for. Him letting you take care of him; that’s all you wanted.

You used the hand that had a grip on his hair to maneuver his head to meet your mouth. You kissed up the tendon in his neck slowly, taking your time to appreciate his smooth skin.

“Oh baby,” he groaned. His mouth was so close to your ear that his breath grazed the shell. A shiver ran up your spine as you kissed his jaw. You struggled to keep yourself present. It was about him. Not about you.

“Jagiya,” he husked trying to move his head to try to kiss you. You held him firmly in place.

He groaned again, this time in frustration. He wasn’t used to you taking control. It was always him who took the reins but the last thing he needed at this moment was to take care of you.

“It’s okay baby,” you mumbled against his sideburns, “just let me take care of you.”

You planted a soft kiss on his ear. You felt his body convulse. His legs began to fidget under your body. His hips bucked and his hands grasped at your waist as if to still you. It was too late. You could feel his arousal. Slowly, he was hardening as you continued to kiss and suck at his golden skin.

“Wait wait,” he said, ripping you from his jugular and holding you at arms length. His breath was heavy, almost as if he had been running. His pupils were dilated and his skin was flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears.

Sinful. This picture of your boyfriend clearly turned on by the simplest stroke of your lips and fingers, was sinful. And Lord were you a sinner.

You bit your lip, keeping a growl from ripping from your mouth. You could lose control. Maybe you were the one who was riled up. Your pulse thumped against your neck, your chest… your panties… it’s been too long. Much too long for your liking.

“Wait for what,” you complained, clenching and unclenching your fingers in his lush locks. You ground your hips once down , pushing into his lap to create friction. He grunted, squeezing your waist to stop you from moving, but you wiggled and squirmed in his grasp managing to get a couple more strokes against his rapidly hardening erection.

“Hold on,” he spat through gritted teeth, pushing you back and off his lap. The heat in your body seemed to pulsate in your veins as you watched him trying to catch his breath. His shorts were tented. His muscles flexed as if he was trying to stop his body’s reaction, his eyes lidded and his head heavy on his shoulders.

You couldn’t understand why he had stopped you. He seemed to want it as much or maybe even a little more than you did.

Suddenly, fear gripped you like a vice. The heat drained and in that moment, you felt stupid. How could you throw yourself at him like that? He’d asked you to stop and yet here you were pushing.

You pushed yourself away from him a little more and hugged your legs to your chest and placed your forehead on your knees. Tears sprung into your eyes. You tried to keep them quiet but it was hard to breathe. Emotion consumed you. Just because his body reacted did not mean that he wanted what you did.

Guilt flooded your head like a fog as you felt your body begin to shake. Maybe he just didn’t want you anymore. Maybe… maybe the couple of months that the two of you had as more than friends were enough for him. Maybe he realized that you were better as friends. That would explain his lack of affection. His lack of interest. That would explain his rut.

“Whoa whoa, Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you crying,” you heard his voice ask. His hand patting your head to try to get you to look up. You could feel your hair fanned around your arms and were grateful for the extra cover. You hated crying in front of people and he was no exception. In fact, you hated it even more.

When you gave no answer, you felt him shift closer. He pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail . Air hit your burning cheeks but you refused to look at him.

“Oh baby what did I do,” he asked but it didn’t seem aimed at you. You felt him press his own forehead to the back of your head. He nuzzled into your now frizzy hair and placed a gentle kiss. you felt your shoulder shake as you struggled to breathe.

A sob escaped your lips and like a dam, it burst forward. It was ugly, to say the least. You hadn’t realized how much emotion you had been holding back. Hadn’t realized how bottled up you had been. Now you were paying for it.

How embarrassing.

“Y/N no,” he said, pulling at your legs and replacing them with this body. He wrapped his arms around your torso and settled your arms onto his shoulders. He cradled your head against his neck and kept his hand on the nape of your neck

“Shhh baby it’s okay… it’s all going to be okay. Just tell me what I did. I’m so sorry…”

How had you gotten here? How did you end up on the floor of your apartment with tears in your eyes when all you wanted was to kiss his stress away?

You sat together like this for what felt like forever. Eventually, he pulled you back onto his lap. You assumed because it was more comfortable for hi than squatting on his knees.

He didn’t ask again what it was that he did. He didn’t question the tears. Instead, he stroked your hair and kissed your cheeks while you calmed down. You felt guilty. You owed him an explanation but you could feel it in your bones that you wouldn’t be able to speak if you tried.

Finally, you were able to breathe normally but you stayed in his arms for a couple seconds more in case he pushed you off again after he realized that you were feeling ok.

You slowly pulled your head from his neck and searched around on the floor for one of the hair ties that he’d pulled from your hair earlier. There was one near your phone.

You quickly tied your hair up and away from your tear stained face, letting the cool air conditioning hit your skin. Joon watched you, waiting on bated breath, but you didn’t want to talk.

You let your hands rest on your own thighs as his hoodie sleeves covered your hands entirely. You must have looked pitiful. Hopefully you weren’t too red and puffy.

You couldn’t bring yourself to get off of him so you simply sat waiting for him to break the silence. Maybe he had the same idea because he didn’t speak either. He let his hands fall to your hips and pressed softly into the flesh soothingly.

You took a shaky breath trying to give yourself courage but- thank God- Joon beat you to it.

“Baby… are you upset because I pushed you away? I just needed a second to cal down.”

Baby? Would he still call you baby if he didn’t want to date you? Maybe he didn’t know how to end it and so he was trying to keep you from finding out that he wasn’t feeling it anymore. Baby. you remember when he first called you baby and even though it hadn’t been your favorite name to be called from previous lovers, when it had come from his lips, from his heart…it was different. It was praise. It made you feel warm and like you were glowing. Yet, this time, it was like he’d stabbed you with a heated knife somewhere below your ribcage.

“If you don’t want me anymore you should just tell me,” your mouth said. Your voice sounded foreign. As if it had come from someone else. What you said surprised you almost as much as it surprised him. His eyes widened and searched your face.

“Not-not want you,” he stuttered, a laugh barely concealed in his surprise, “are you kidding?”

Ignoring your fear at how you appeared after your pity party, you snapped your head up to look at him. A small smile rested on his lips and the deeper of his dimples showed slightly. While there was worry behind his gaze, there was another emotion, deep within the brown of his eyes. It was mirth. He thought this was funny.

“Namjoon,” you raised your voice, trying to keep your own smile at bay. You swatted at his arms and he feigned hurt.

“What,” he yelled letting uncharacteristically dashing chuckles escape his lips, “You can’t expect me to think you’re being serious.”

“I am being serious-“

“Ahahaha,” his loud and somewhat funny laugh was back and with it your own smile. It felt like you hadn’t heard it in so long. Sure, he laughed when he was on run episodes or when he was with the boys but it seemed like around you, he was always down. It was nice to have him laughing even if it was at you.

“Joon! Stop laughing, I’m not kidding!”

He laughed even harder at that. His laugh reached a level of loudness that made your ears ring but you didn’t care. He looked happier than he had in weeks. You couldn’t help but chuckle along as he laughed until they subsided into snickers. All the while you continuously poked and pushed at his shoulders playfully.

When he was finally composed enough to make direct eye contact, he cleared his throat and widened his pretty eyes at you as he tended to do after he heard a good joke. His smile was glued to his face as he rubbed circles into the hoodie.

“Do you really think,” he couldn’t help but cough as he tried to stop another fit of laughter from escaping, “that I would ever, and I mean ever,” he paused, his fingers slipping down almost deafly to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, “not want you?”

You blinked at him as his eyes glittered, darkening impossibly so. It was like a switch was flicked and the small amount of lust that you’d seen before was back. Nimble fingers found their way under the oversized fabric on your body. His touch was slightly cold to the skin on your stomach. It sharply contrasted the heat that seemed to rush into your cheeks and your ears.

“Well,” you managed with little to no effort, “it’s been weeks since I’ve so much as kissed you…” His index finger had found the lace of the bralette you were wearing. His thumb hooked under the soft edge and tugged at it slightly. Distracting. He was so distracting.

“So-so I thought maybe it was something I had done,” you said in one breath as his thumb dug a little higher under the elastic that clung to your ribs to keep your breasts in place. Just in the nick of time too. Had he done it just one second earlier, you would have probably become mute for once in your life. A feat only Namjoon could achieve.

“That’s on me,” he said suddenly halting his progressing fingers, his shoulders sagging, “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately.”

Namjoon rested his forehead on yours. His eyes shut tight as his apology fell from his pink lips.

He stroked the section of skin under the pad of his thumb, the tip just barely brushing the underside of your breast. You felt a wave of heat rush through your body. Was it getting hot? Should you close the curtains?

“I’ve just been stressed and I didn’t want to blow up on you. At the same time, well… I miss you and I feel the most comfortable around you. I don’t ever feel like I have to pretend that I’m alright. I didn’t mean to make you feel unappreciated.”

When had his other hand found your bare waist? Had his voice distracted you? When had the rest of his fingers ended up under the soft lace of the bralette? Had his thumb traveled further?

“I didn’t mean to…deprive you,” He whispered, forcing you forward to catch his low words. In hindsight, it was a trap. That’s exactly what he wanted but could you fight him when he sounded so delicious?

Your thoughts were cut short when his hand on your chest shifted completely, cupping and gently squeezing. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in surprise. He gave another firm squeeze as his eyes squinted cutely, his high pitched giggle returning, like music to your ears as he leaned even closer and bumped his nose against yours.

“Kim Namjoon,” you gasped but it was eaten up as he quickly connected his lips to yours in a spurt of short, chaste kisses that had you chasing after him. Frustration flooded your veins as he continued to pull away, leaving you wanting more and more the more he gave.

Finally, having had enough, you grabbed his head with both of your hands and tilted it up slightly so you could kiss him properly. Forcing him to slow down. He would be in control soon enough. You should enjoy the power you had while you could.

You forced your lips onto his. The kiss was soft, slow, passionate. He melted into it. He always did like when you took a hold of him in some way or another. Sinful, beautiful noises escaped his lips. His small moans seemed to absorb into your pores. In turn you couldn’t help but answer each and every one of them. He nibbled on your bottom lip for a second, an action that you couldn’t get enough of and he knew, then went right back to sucking on your upper lip.

“Fuck,” you could feel the arousal in your throat. He made you lose yourself. He made you forget where you were, who you were.

“That’s right baby girl,” he groaned into your mouth as you licked his lips, “that’s exactly what I’m going to do to you.”

You moaned. It was embarrassing how easily you could come undone under his ministrations. If you could kiss him for eons, you would. His lips were your favorite bit of him. He was so. Fucking. Good.

“Baby please,” you groaned pulling at his lip with your teeth, “I want you…”

“Shit,” he said, a gurgle of want bubbling from his throat. You shifted, trying to remind him of his hands on your body but what it did instead was remind you of another part of him that seemed almost as excited as you were.

“Jagi,” he hissed, shifting his hips to get the same friction you’d just created, “do that again.”

You pulled your lips from his, a thin strand of saliva connecting you. In any other situation, this would be gross, but in that instant, it only spurred you on more.

“Yes sir,” you joked, winking at him as you rolled your hips against his half hard erection. A melody of noises fell from his blessed tongue. Lust was over taking you. Your eyelids became heavy. Your breath, shallow and hard.

“You know that’s not what I want you to call me,” he hissed at you, his fingers on your chest picking at the nipple that had hardened at some point while you made out. You sighed, your tongue darting out to wet your parched lips but you knew that the thirst you were feeling could not be quenched this way.

“Say my name,” he growled, twisting his finger and pulling at the sensitive skin. You were panting now, slowing your movements on his lap to enjoy his cares.

You whimpered, pushing your chest into his hand, arching your back as you struggled to draw any breath.

“Come on baby girl,” he pressed, his lips brushing against your neck. When had he gotten to your neck?

“Just once,” he begged but you knew he wasn’t asking.

“Make me ,” you gasped as he bit and sucked at your pulse. A smile tugged at your lips as you felt him stop and tense.

He pulled his lips from your neck, a lewd squelch resonating in the empty apartment as he brought his eyes level with you. He withdrew his hand as well without even a warning and you whined, thought you knew this would happen as soon as you started to fight him. It was worth it though. You knew he always worked better under a little pressure.

“Just what I needed to hear.”

He shifted under you, locking your ankles behind his back. He then locked your hands behind his neck. You weren’t stupid. You could see where this was going. Now, Namjoon was obviously very smart. It was obvious. But sometimes, on most occasions, he lacked the common sense to make proper choices.

This was one of those times.

“Hold on tight baby,” he winked, kissing your lips once more before pushing himself up by doing a bench dip with his knees bent. Namjoon had a lot of thigh and arm muscle. This much was true, but was he used to lifting both his body weight and your own? No.

So when he started to shake under the joined pressure, it wasn’t a surprise. You would have laughed but Lord were you scared that he would fall, or drop you or hurt himself. Instead, you struggled to decide if you should be holding onto him for dear life or if you should fling yourself off him to avoid any major injury to either of you.

The decision was taken from you as his left arm bent at a slightly awkward angle and his balance was thrown. Instinctively, you let go of him to brace yourself as the swooping sensation of falling gripped you with fear.

You couldn’t tell exactly how it happened. Your eyes fell shut as you landed heavily on your side. Your elbow hitting first as you reached out to stop your momentum.

“Ow,” you couldn’t help but groan as sharp pain shot through your arm. You heard Namjoon gasp near you but all you could see was stars. You began to giggle uncontrollably as tears streamed down your face.

“Oh your God, Y/N are you alright,” he said, sitting you up with his strong arms. You couldn’t stop laughing. You’d hit your damn funny bone and in all honesty, this was a funny situation. Sex with Namjoon was nothing if not eventful and filled with awkward mishaps.

“I’m fine,” you said through laughter, “i just hit my elbow.”

You blinked away the tears in your lashes, looking up at the dope of a man that you were in love with. Worry was evident on his brows. He looked you over before taking your arm in his hand and examining the red mark where you had landed.

“Does it hurt a lot? Do you think it’s broken,” he asked, touching it lightly but no pain was felt on your end. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that nothing, and you meant nothing- could stop you from taking this man in this very instant, but you couldn’t care less if your arm was broken. Hell, it could have been hanging off by a thread and you’d still want to have a quickie before we went to emergency care.

Could you blame yourself? The man was gorgeous.

This was, in fact, what you were focusing on at the moment. The way that his hair fell into his dark eyes. The way his jaw contrasted with his round cheeks. How his lips were slightly parted as he examined your arm with utmost delicacy. His shoulders. His neck. The veins in his muscular arms. His long… nimble…fingers…

“Joon,” you snapped a bit harsher than you had meant to. His eyes shot up to meet yours, confused and shocked.

“Did I hurt you…” he averted his eyes shyly, “More?”

“Oh honey no,” you laughed, though this time you cut yourself off as you caught a glimpse of his hardening member under the loose shorts he was sporting, “I’m hoping you might though.”

You weren’t much into pain and Namjoon knew this very well, but these words were enough to pull him back at what was at stake. You.

“Are you sure,” he asked one last time, fighting with his own concern and sky rocketing arousal.

“Very sure,” you said, pushing yourself up to your knees to kiss his cheek then ducking your head to kiss his neck.

A shiver ran down his whole body. His eyes closed and squinted. His bulge twitched slightly and you couldn’t stop the smirk on your face. You reached out and ran a single finger over the tented area, drawing little circles as you worked your way to the tip.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered gruffly wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling it away from his body. You giggled as he let his eyes fall open, a chastising spark in his pupils. Oh you were so going to get it.

“Close the curtains,” he commanded and you shrugged, standing quickly and nearly yanking the curtains from the hinges.

“Done. Now what?”

“You seem a little eager to please,” He chuckled, standing from his place on the floor carefully. It must have been painful. He looked even harder now.

“I always am. You know I’m a people pleaser.”

He rolled his eyes but nodded at the stairs by your kitchen and with an excited hop, you ran towards them. Joon chased you, playfully swatting at your hips and behind every couple of steps. Your long hair bobbed with every step and your shoulders shook with every giggle. You tried to jump away from him but only half-heartedly. In truth, you loved his hands on your butt and you weren’t going to pass up some playful spanks.

When you made it to the landing, you turned around. Namjoon was slightly shorter than usual due to him being one step behind you, so you took advantage, throwing your arms around his neck as he took the last step. As if he was on the same wavelength, he reached down, grabbing at your thighs and settling them around his hip.

You giggled again, excitement and something a little purer flooded your system. His lips met yours unceremoniously, nipping and sucking light heartedly while you smiled into him. The scent of something flowery hit your nose and you realized he must have used some of his Chanel number five lotion. It strangely suited him well.

Finally, you reached your bed. He climbed on carefully, setting you on your back. He pulled away and blinked at you. Your stomach fluttered at his expression. There was a softness on his features that you never saw with anyone else. A love that you couldn’t quite describe but couldn’t ignore.

He let go of your leg to stroke at your cheek with the back of his hand. Pure, undeniable warmth surged through you at his touch. Your smiles match in intensity and adoration. It was weird. Maybe no one could understand it. How intimate sex truly was to you. Especially with the reputation that your boyfriend had of being a sexual deviant, but the truth was that while he was naturally very attracted to the human body, sex had a special meaning to him. It wasn’t something that he gave away easily. It was an expression of his trust and love. It was nearly never self-serving, and almost always to focus on you and your needs. He was a giver, contrary to popular belief.

You buried your hand in his hair and pulled him to your lips, savoring the taste of strawberry Chapstick as if it would be the last time that you could ever do so. Not even for a breath of air did you pull away as he hooked his thumbs over the edge of the hoodie and slowly began to bunch it up around your chest.

Cool air hit your warming skin, his touch only furthering the experience. Every nerve in your torso was in flames, the pulse between your legs growing stronger by the second. Like it was yelling at you to give it the attention it searched for. Namjoon angled his pelvis up so you could feel his own pulse against your own. His member twitched as he shifted his hips from side to side ever so slight, your legs still wrapped tightly around him. You couldn’t stand the thought of him being any farther from you than a couple of centimeters.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, he pulled away from the kiss, his hands both at the lace edge of your bra now. His gaze darkened as you whined, chasing his sweet lips but he kept himself out of reach with a pleased smirk.

“Joonie,” you groaned trying to pull his head back to you but he only rolled his eyes before prying a hand from his hair almost reluctantly, entwining his fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand softly. He smiled and placed it over his chest, where you could feel his speeding heart. It pounded against his ribs at the same speed as your own. In sync, in one harmonious song.

You relaxed a bit at the gesture. His heartbeat always had that effect and he never failed to use it to control you in the sweetest way possible. Your chest rose and fell dramatically as he memorized your features.

“Can this come off,” he asked, tugging once more at the fabric of the sweater you stole. You smiled at him knowingly and nodded.

“If you take it back after we’re done, I’m going to be upset,” you half joked as he placed tiny pecks on each knuckle and one last kiss on the back of your hand before he dropped it next to your head and took the hem of the hoodie with both hands.

“Hands over your head,” he said, the slightest bit of authority in his command. Obediently, or maybe it was because you were so keen to please, you shimmed your hands over your ponytail and arched your back to make it easier for him to pull it off.

He was cautious not to get it stuck on your ears, or to pull on your hair. Too many times had he accidentally snagged an article of clothing on an earring or accidentally tangled your hair into the fabric. He’d learned that lesson, as he more than likely learned not to try to stand up with you in his lap earlier.

Once you were free of the fabric, he balled it up, smirked at you, then tossed it over to a pile of stuffed animals that you had set up on a small table. You had one from each tour he had gone to from every country they visited. In case you missed him he’d send you one from wherever he was so you could imagine being with him. It was such a sweet thought and a tradition you looked forward to.

Namjoon kissed your nose faintly, bringing your attention back to him. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, his hands not dilly dallying any further. Instead he rested them directly on top of your breasts, squeezing, just enough to remind you what you were doing. What you were craving.

“ Y/N,” he groaned, looking at the way his hands engulfed the hills on your chest. It was a reminder. You didn’t have huge breasts but neither were they tiny, and the way that his hands seemed to be the perfect size to hold each, only served to recap how big his pretty hands were.

“I love you in lace,” he gasped, thrusting his hips against the heart of your femininity. You choked on a moan. He was so stiff, and the combined warmth of your bodies seemed to radiate into the air.

“You’re blushing, beautiful,” He said against your neck. There was no denying it. Not only could he clearly see the tint of red on your skin, but he could also feel it against his lips.

“Shut up,” you complained, twirling a strand of hair between your fingers as he nibbled on your burning skin. He let a hand trace up to your chin. His thumb parting your swollen lips and pressing against your tongue. He wasn’t fond of you telling him what to do.

“It’s pretty, baby,” he kissed a hickey into your neck loudly, “You know I love it when your skin flushes under my touch.”

There was a hidden question in this statement. He was asking you if this is what you wanted out of this encounter. To turn pink under his hand. It wasn’t new. He’d done it to you on many an occasion and it was as enjoyable to you as it was to him.

“You know I like it too,” you said shyly, glad that he couldn’t see how much blood rushed to your cheeks at the thought of what could happen next.

His manhood twitched against your core, his breath hitched. He could read you like a book, or maybe he had you memorized. Either way, he pulled your legs from his body and pulled you to sit up. In a matter of seconds he had pushed you to the edge of the bed, stood you up and sat you on his toned thighs. Confusion clouded your mind. The other times that something of this sort happened in the bed room, you were across his lap not on it. In all honesty, you weren’t sure how this would work with the way he had positioned you.

Namjoon was a man with a plan. He wasted no time in scooting you back until his shoulders were pressed against the wall.

“Joon, what are you-“

“Lay down,” he said, pushing you forward as he parted his legs. Your head facing towards his feet, your face in the comforter. You put your arms under your head to support yourself as Namjoon pulled your legs around his hips once more.

That’s when it became all clear. Before you could process what was happening, he tugged at your leggings, pulling them down to about your midthigh. Cool air hit your behind and you couldn’t help the shiver that traveled up your spine.

“Pink panties ,” he whispered so hoarsely that it was almost unintelligible, “My favorite color on you, did you wear this for me?”

You took a deep breath, forcing courage into yourself before you said, “No, it’s for my other boyfriend .”

He stiffened at the sarcasm but quickly relaxed knowing that you were just trying to rile him up. One, slender finger drew a small heart on your right butt cheek. You could almost hear his smile as he inhaled. His brain whirling with possibility.

“Cheeky,” he joked, patting the spot he’d just traced on. The sound of skin on skin making your mind blurry with desire.

You snorted, because, come on. That’s a good joke and he chuckled.

“You know what happens when my baby gets mouthy…don’t you baby?”

You hummed, loving your little banter. It was lucky that your face was firmly between your arms or maybe he’d see your mind working to sass him.

“I don’t think that was mouthy,” you shrugged. His index finger found its way under the elastic of the panties on your body. You licked your lips in anticipation but nothing happened. Disappointment began to settle in right before you felt him tug it up then without warning, released it.

The sharp snap of pain panged through the skin on your butt and lower back. You hissed as he pushed into the place the elastic dug. It was a start. A damn good one at that.

“Maybe not, but I get to be the judge of that,” he said plucking the elastic up on the opposite side of your hip, “and I think that you’re mouthy.”

Snap.

You groaned but adrenaline had started to kick in and arousal was pooling between your legs.

“Turn me around,” you mumbled, enjoying the sting against your skin as he pressed into the area your underwear hit, “I’ll show you just how mouthy I can be.”

“Fuck,” he spat, smacking your right butt cheek and yanking your hair just for his own added pleasure. The noise resonated in the large, partially empty, apartment. A gasp escaped your lips.

“Maybe later,” he reasoned, hitting the left one this time a little harder than the last, “first, i want to see my handprint on your ass.”

Two more fast slaps to your right cheek followed by one to your left. You clenched around nothing feeling the burn start to take over. His hand delivered delicious blows each time.

“What-“ spank, “happened to-“ spank, spank, “pink?”

“I’ve decided that you deserve more than just pink. What with that filthy mouth of yours.”

“Filthy,” you mock gasped as he slapped one side multiple times quickly. So quickly, you couldn’t even count and your skin was starting to get numb.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with my mouth last time it was around your-” three more slaps and then a snap of the elastic of your underwear was enough to shut you up. A moan gurgled into your mouth that you barely held back. Namjoon rubbed the sting into the panging skin. His finger now felt cold against you and you knew you must be peachy at the very least. Cherry red at the worst. Judging by his giggle, you were somewhere in between.

“Don’t laugh at me, you jerk,” you groaned, feeling your face flush as he ran a finger over your clothed slits. You shuddered in anticipation.

“I love how you react to the simplest touches,” he mumbled, running his finger over and over the damp underwear, “You’re a little wet baby.”

You could tell he wanted you to say something but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice a single thing. When you said nothing he continued.

“Maybe we should get rid of these,” he slipped a finger under the side for a second, before pulling it out and grabbing your hips.

“Or maybe,” he shifted himself pushing his manhood against your center, “we could just push these aside…”

He pulled you back onto him, the friction heavenly to you both. A sinful, melodious moan left his lips. He was getting desperate but if you knew your boyfriend, he could draw this out for much, much longer and you…you were in no rush.

“Or maybe,” you countered pushing yourself up and away from the bed sheets, “you could put my ‘filthy’ mouth to some use,” you threw a cautious look over your shoulder only to see his mouth hanging open in surprise and his fluffy cheeks flushing a pale pink.

“What’s wrong baby,” you asked with a smirk looking down at your touching centers then back at his eyes, your lip between your teeth, “cat got your tongue?”

His eyes sparkled as he looked between you where you connected through fabric. You could almost see him salivate. You’d heard of this before your relationship with Namjoon. You’d heard of men loving to please a woman. You had heard of the way some men drooled at the thought but never had you experienced it. That is, unti the first time Namjoon disrobed you and he’d licked his lips and buried his face between your legs.

And here it was again. That look. Feral. Primal. Thirsty. It was, so absolutely sexy. But this was not what you had in mind.

In an instant, Namjoon rolled you off of him, shifting himself on his hands and knees. You adjusted yourself against the pillows of the bed, your chest heaving as he tore his shirt from his body as if it was burning him. He threw it on the floor next to the bed then turned his attention back to you, “Take it off.”

“Take what off,” you asked genuinely not sure but his quirked eyebrow made you swallow the little saliva in your mouth and strip your bralette and underwear in a matter of seconds. You weren’t in the mood to be deprived of an orgasm after a couple of weeks hiatus.

You propped yourself up a bit higher, your legs squeezed shut in slight embarrassment. You crossed your arms under and slightly over your breasts to cover your pert nipples. It had been a while, and it kind of felt like it was the first time he’d seen you naked even though, in the back of your mind, you knew he’d seen it plenty before.

Namjoon’s chest rippled in the dim light, his arms, so toned and silky, flexed as he held himself up, devouring every inch of skin he could see. His tongue darted out to lick his plush lips. A shock of thrill went directly to your core. You had memories of that tongue in other places.

“i’ve missed you baby girl,” he said, grabbing your ankles and pushing them apart so he could take a look at what lay in between. When his eyes landed on your slit, it was like he’d been sedated. His shoulders relaxed, his jaw slacked and his elbows buckled slightly.

“Finally,” he grumbled, jumping at your body. He kissed your lips passionately, ripping your arms from your chest and entwining his fingers with yours to pin them to the bed on either side of you. You spread your legs even wider to accommodate his torso.

He pressed his hips into your sex. The texture fabric of his shorts rubbed up against the little nub that was begging to be touched.

You moaned into the kiss as his tongue found its way into your mouth. You were hot. So hot. You were burning up. Maybe it was the way that you could feel his erection so firmly between your legs. You couldn’t tell. But you were so freaking hot.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned against your chin, kissing down your neck sloppily. Trails of saliva followed as he made it to your chest. He wasted no time in taking one of your eagerly awaiting nipples in his mouth. He lightly nibbled and sucked on the sensitive flesh. His tongue was weirdly talented, even though he hadn’t had many girlfriends before you.

You usually attributed it to his rapping skills as he had so eloquently put it one time when you, in the heat of the moment, asked him how he could possibly be this good.

“You’ve heard of what guitarists can do with their hands? This is what rappers do with their tongues.”

He pulled away from your chest, kissed the nipple, before he blew on it just a tiny bit. He drove you crazy and he knew it. Your eyes rolled into your head. God, you missed him.

“Joon…if you don’t touch me, I swear-”

“Baby,” he cut you off again, “I think it’s been too long. You’re forgetting who,” you looked down as his hands grabbed onto the inside of your thighs, “is in charge.”

You opened your mouth to protest but his own mouth dove right into the folds between your legs kissing with an open mouth and you shut your lips instantly.

“Fuck,” you said, trying to close your legs but his strong arms kept you open, vulnerable before him.

He lapped at your clitoris with just the very tip of his tongue. He drew shapes and letters. He must have spelled words even, in hangul by the way that his tongue was moving and you just lay there, shivering under his touch.. He really was a talented rapper if what he was doing was any indication.

He mumbled something against your core, and it sent a vibration of pure delight through your body. You clenched around nothing and let a whine escape your lips. This was not supposed to be about you, but were you a horrible person for suddenly not caring?

“Wh-what,” you asked, as waves of pleasure surged through your body, his plush lips clamping around the little nub between your legs and sucking gently.

He withdrew his lips with a lewd squelch and you wrinkled your nose at it. Disappointment surged through you before his voice did.

“I said,” he licked a long, wide stripe from bottom to top, his eyes firmly on your shocked and blissed out face, “so good.”

You had no words. You floundered for any semblance of coherent sounds but nothing came to mind. How did sentences work again? Did your voice come from your lips?

You bit the corner of your bottom lip as he gently kissed around your labia. He let go of your thighs, and used his index finger and thumb on both hands to spread you open. His eyes were greedy, excited. It was like someone had offered him some cotton candy or made him some of that expensive drip coffee he liked. He looked, hungry.

Without your response, he once again kissed the now very visible and pulsating nub that was filled with blood from arousal. The sensation made your shoulders both relax and tense at the same time. Noticing your reaction, he chuckled, and stuck his tongue out sharply. Without hesitation, he licked back and forward a couple of times. Your legs shook and you had the instinct to clamp them closed but you forced yourself to keep them apart and bent.

Within seconds, you felt your climax nearing. After a few rounds in this same position, he’d figured out exactly what to do to make you finish. You could still remember telling him when he had first suggested trying this particular act that no one had ever made you finish from just eating you out and not to feel bad if you didn’t climax, but he was determined and after a first time “failure” -which was relative because what he had done felt great but he felt it wasn’t a success until you came- he set himself to research and was eventually, the first man to make you come in this way.

It was safe to say that it had gone to his pretty little head. Maybe this was why he liked to do this so much. It was something purely his. Something he could proudly call himself a pioneer of and he was so damn good at it.

“Joonie,” you whimpered, pulling on his hair tightly so he would slow down, but it was like he knew, and he probably did know, that you were close.

He doubled his efforts, holding you apart, vulnerable to his talented tongue. You threw your head back. The pleasure was almost too much. Too powerful. The thought that it was Namjoon between your legs making you see stars was almost enough to push you over the edge.

“Come on gorgeous. i know you want to cum,” he mumbled quickly, going back to the motion he had before with a slight bit more pressure.

Maybe it was because he pointed it out, or maybe it was because you really were needy, but you did. You felt your body tense almost to the point of discomfort then like a dam filled with water, the pleasure burst, leaving you moaning his name as he lapped at the wetness that still coated your womanhood.

“Namjoon please oh God,” you whined, trying to pull him off but he wasn’t slowing down.

Overstimulation was quickly taking over. Your body shivered violently. This time, your legs did snap closed on his head but he didn’t seem to care. He let go of your labia and pried your thighs apart, sucking your clitoris into his mouth harshly.

Tiny whimpers escaped your lips. It was like you were watching it happen rather than having it done to you. You couldn’t think. Your body acted of its own accord, reacting to every lick and slurp of your boyfriend’s perfect mouth as if on autopilot.

“Namjoon, it’s too much ,” you begged but he only chuckled and brought a hand closer to your center.

“I can’t have my sexy girlfriend thinking that I don’t want her anymore,” he said against your skin, “gotta show you how much I need you, baby girl.”

You gasped, as a finger circled your entrance. The pads of his fingers were a little rough and the texture felt amazing against your sensitive middle. Without warning, he dipped the finger in. You were so wet at that point that his finger met no resistance and he instantly plunged a second finger after it.

As if he had been trained his whole life for pleasing just you, he found your g-spot near instantly. A small scream of gratification left your swollen lips as he pressed against it over and over and over.

It wasn’t long before you were at the edge again. Delirious. Desperate for release once more. The pain of over stimulation, long gone and replaced by hyper awareness and desire.

“I think I’m going to-“

Stolen from your lips were the words as you clenched around his finger and twitched under his touch. This time, he helped you ride it until goosebumps decorated your skin and when you tugged at his hair once more, he withdrew his head and his hand from your abused core.

It was a couple of minutes before you were able to properly breathe. Your chest heaved. You could have just ran a mile in six minutes flat with the exhaustion that filled your bones to the brim. When you could finally think clearly, you pushed yourself up and looked for your boyfriend.

He was waiting patiently on his knees between your own. His face, from his nose to his chin, glistened with the wetness that could only come from between your legs. His chest was bare, and a light sheen of sweat seemed to coat it. He too was breathing heavily but you could tell buy a single glance at his shorts, that he was nowhere near done.

“Nam-mjoon,” you said, your voice wavering, earning you a giggle from the cute boy before you, “I was supposed to suck you off. Not have you eat me out…”

Your arms felt heavy as well as your legs. If you let yourself, you could fall asleep right then but you forced the tiredness away as you looked at Namjoon’s puppy eyes.

“Do you want me to,” you asked, bracing yourself for his answer. This might be the worst blow job you ever give but if he wanted your lips around him, you would happily oblige.

“Y/N, you look like you could fall over at any second. i think having you fall asleep around your co-“

“Joon!”

He rolled his eyes at your outburst. you always felt a bit strange about him being vulgar when it came to certain body parts but he usually ignored your please and said what he wanted. Today was no different.

“…cock…would be a blow to my confidence not to my dick.”

You giggled at his joke and sat up a little straighter. Usually, you would fight him. you hated not reciprocating and especially now that it had been so long since you had a proper night together but there was a real possibility that you could hurt him so you didn’t push on the blow job and made a mental note to award him one at a later date.

“Okay, fine…but can we at least…” you paused, feeling a blush rush to your cheeks at what you were going to ask.

“At least?”

“Don’t make you say it,” you begged, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to sit on his still, annoyingly clothed lap.

He helped you settle on his legs and held onto your thighs to keep you close. you could feel his erection as hard as ever. It must be painful at this point. You ground your hips just once and he winced. Yeah, he was far too gone.

You reached up to his lips and wiped some of your own slick from his skin with your thumb. You felt a bit bad at how covered he was. You wiped the thumb on his shorts at which he frowned before you reached up and kissed him softly. The taste of you on his lips was strange. You could never really tell how you felt about it but if one thing was for sure, you were lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend.

You managed to lick and kiss most of the moisture from his mouth before he spoke again.

“Can I make love to you?”

You blinked up at him, surprised. At this point, maybe you shouldn’t have been. He knew you like the back of his hand, or maybe even better than that. You mentally thanked him for saving you the awkwardness of asking for it and nodded your head vigorously.

His dimples made an appearance as he very suddenly pulled you towards him and on to your back. You squealed, giddy to finally feel him inside you after so long. He let go of your legs and quickly, and might you add, very ungracefully, pushed his shorts and underwear off in one swoop.

His shaft sprung up. The tip was a deep red and it leaked precum. You couldn’t help but lick your lips. It was thick and long. The kind of thing that you would expect to see in art or in paintings. It was ethereal. Delectable. How could you have let yourself be deprived of this view for so long?

In an instant, you remembered the feeling of him inside you and your head reeled. If you remembered correctly, this was going to be a stretch.

Namjoon climbed over you in the blink of an eye. You could tell he was excited because, well it was just something you knew. It was radiating from his body like an aura.

“Do you think you’re ready,” he asked, kissing your forehead, then your hairline, ever so gently. He peppered kisses all over your face as a smile graced it. You grabbed a hold of his face in both hands and forced him to kiss your lips, which he did without argument.

“You are too cute Joonie baby,” you mumbled against his lips before you let a hand trail down his toned chest, over his muscular but undefined abs and finally wrapped around his hardened member.

His smile faltered for an instant, his erection twitched in your hand. You gave it a couple of slow and lavish pumps. You could see the fine hairs on his body stand on end at the sensation and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re killing me here,” he choked out through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry Joonie,” you lied, keeping your pace slow, “I just want to make sure that you’re ready as well.”

You took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked at it as you squeezed a little tighter around his rod still at the unbearable pace you had set. His body reacted accordingly. Shiver after shiver ran down his spine and his chest convulsed. Had he not jerked off either? He was so wound up.

“Baby girl, please just let me get in there… I can’t take much more of this,” he whispered against your jaw, leaving a wet kiss before connecting his eyes to yours. you smiled kindly and aligned him with your entrance.

As soon as you touched his tip to your middle, his shoulders seemed to tense further and you let go, letting him take over. As if he had read your mind, he gently began to push himself deeper. Was it payback for jerking him off so slowly, or was he scared to hurt you? He was inching his way in so incredibly slow. you could feel every vein in his member, every stroke against your walls. It was both horrible, and amazing all at once.

Finally, he bottomed out and despite how wet you were from your two orgasms, you felt tears prick your eyes. It had definitely been too long and you weren’t just talking about his member.

You could feel it in your stomach and he pushed down your lower abdomen just so you could feel it better. This was another thing he was proud of. No one had gone as deep as him. He was by far, the longest and girthiest you had ever had and he always made sure you remembered it.

A groan left his lips as he shifted his hips so you could feel him move inside of you. He wiped a tear away from your cheek and kissed the trail it had left behind.

“You feel that baby girl,” he asked gently, “that’s all for you. Only for you.’

He began to pull out at the same pace that he had impaled you and you whimpered, wanting…no needing more. He was almost fully pulled out before he slowly began to push back in.

Namjoon grabbed the hand that had been jerking him off and replaced his hand on your stomach with it. Then that hand came up and gently gripped around your neck. Your heart skipped a beat.

“How does that feel baby? Does it hurt?”

“Yeah,” you nearly screamed and he stopped mid thrust. You could see the fear in his eyes as he looked all over your face for some sign of what he had done wrong.

“It hurts because you’re going way too slow you doof,” you clarified, and he instantly relaxed.

“You scared me, Y/N.”

“Joonie please move faster,” you begged, ignoring his previous statement.

He sighed which shook a little as your walls contracted around his length. His grip on your neck tightened with your muscles and a shock of pleasure ran through your stomach. You let an unsteady moan escape your lips which was swallowed up as he leaned down, his sex still only about a quarter of the way in, and traced your lips with his tongue.

You clenched around him once again. He bit your upper lip roughly, then kissed it and your nose lightly. It was so confusing. The way he could be sickeningly sweet and at the same time be torturing you with his hands and his length. The mix of emotion made a fog in your head that kept you from seeing what was coming next.

“I’ll move my love,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. Goosebumps erupted all over your body. You let your eyes shut to better appreciate all of the pleasure you were receiving , intoxicated with the scent of his skin, and the way that his voice floated into your ear.

“If you say my name,” he whispered, licking the cartilage nearest his lips.

You knew it would come to this. You’d been too mouthy. Too self-righteous. It had been a long time since we’d shared a bed this way and you let your eagerness and desperation get the best of you. Now, you were truly going to have to pay for it. That is, if you kept up your refusal to give him what he wanted. Would you really want to risk getting denied an orgasm just to keep up your brat routine?

An mortified blush covered your cheeks up to your forehead. It wasn’t that it made you uncomfortable. It was a turn on to you too, but there was something embarrassing about calling him something so deeply fetishized. It sounded strange coming out of your mouth and made you cringe, but you knew that if you just gave him what he wanted, we would both be satisfied.

“Yes daddy,” you whimpered.

It happened in a millisecond. His hand squeezed around your windpipe, he bit down on your ear and he thrust his hip hard against your core.

A muted cry was ripped from your vocal cords. His tip hit just as deep as it had the first time. You could feel it in your stomach. You never really thought that could be possible but here you were, and you couldn’t have been more wrong.

Like a switch was flipped, he pounded into the wet mouth of your arousal, the slickness helping to keep it mostly painless. Still, the burn couldn’t be stopped as he stretched you farther than any fingers could. Moans fell from your lips like prayers. Namjoon grunted every time his hips met yours. A lewd clapping bounced off the walls.

There was no stopping him now. It was like a magic word and you knew that as soon as you’d said it, there was no going back.

Namjoon used the hand not around your neck to hold himself up and over you. Beads of sweat had started to form on his hair line with the effort he was exerting. A sexy wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he squeezed his eyes shut. His breaths were coming out hard, and loud. He sounded like he was running a race and he was pushing himself to the end. It was music to your ears. Sounds more appealing than any symphony or singer you had ever heard.

Maybe you had zoned out, because when you zoned back in, your voice was mixed in with his. His real name was mixed in with shouts of “more” and “don’t stop”. You knew that later, after it was all said and done, the noises you were making would haunt you, but in the moment, you pushed away your insecurities and focused on the feeling of being full.

“Yes,” you gasped as he hit your g-spot, repeatedly on the way in and out. Gratification was flowing through you like a river.

“Yes what Jagi,” Namjoon asked, readjusting himself onto his knees so he didn’t have to hold himself up.

He grabbed onto one of your breasts and gave it a light squeeze before he flicked the nipple. Question forgotten, your breath caught in your throat but he abandoned your chest in favor of something lower. He traced lines into your stomach. Designs he’d come up on the spot that you’d have to remaster into a design of some sort if you still remembered them after you were done. It was beautiful. The way that you made love.

Beautiful, how you mixed together. A beautiful color that couldn’t be store bought or mass produced. It was you. Purely, and unequivocally you.

You choked as his wandering hand found your clit once more, rubbing tight and precise circles. It was too much, and he knew this. His fingers on your pulse point, his index on your sensitive bud, and his member inside you. It was everything you could ask for, and when your body froze, tense from his caress, it was no surprise to either of you.

“Namjoon,” you gasped as your walls convulsed around him, his speed even. It was getting harder to breath and it wasn’t because of the pressure on your windpipes but because once again, over stimulation was setting in. You winced as he pumped in and out at an inhumane speed. It was crazy. How could he hold himself off this long.

“I’m almost there baby, where do you want me,” he asked, his voice hoarse and deep and gravely.

“In-in me… I want you in me Joonie,” you panted.

Was it slightly inconvenient to have his ejaculation inside you? Yes. Was it nice to be so wet after we had sex? No. Did you give a single crap in that moment? No. No,you didn’t. All you knew was that you needed him. You needed to feel like you were his and like before, this was something that only he had ever done to you and it made it special.

As if that was all that he was waiting for, Namjoon stilled. His erection twitched inside you and then he came. He spilled into you. Hot and thick. you couldn’t help but let your eyes roll back into your head as his ejaculation dripped from your entrance. You squeezed around him just to try and help and were rewarded with a grunt of satisfaction.

“Fuck Y/N,” he huffed, removing his hand from your neck and your core to help steady him. His length had started to soften and you could tell that, much like you, he was exhausted.

He pulled out, wincing as the cold air hit his member.You, in turn, grimaced as his cum dripped down your thighs. You’d have to wash the bed sheets today.

Namjoon laid down beside you. Your body bounced as he adjusted his body. He draped an arm around your waist, cuddling into your side. Your bodies stuck together. Sweat, and well…other liquids clung to your skin.

You allowed yourself to relax into him for a couple of minutes. Your breathing pattern evened before you sighed happily and pushed him off of you. Namjoon whimpered as you carefully swung your legs over the edge of your bed. The uncomfortable feel of something flowing out of you made you shiver.

“Where are you going,” he asked in Korean. His tone whiney and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at him over your bare shoulder. His eyes were big and a small frown decorated his lips. He was too cute to handle.

You planted a kiss on his frown before you turned back to the edge of the bed to press your legs together. Maybe it would stop the ejaculate.

“I need to shower,” you reasoned, bracing yourself, knowing you would have to run to the restroom if you wanted to avoid having to mop the floor again.

“Can’t we cuddle for a little while,” Namjoon begged but you just shook your head dreading what you knew was to come.

“After we shower, yeah.”

You felt him sit up behind you. He gently kissed your shoulder and wrapped his strong…muscular…arms…

You blinked at his muscles around you like a deer in headlights but shook your head. You could still feel how tired your muscles were from what you had just done. You couldn’t do it this soon again.

“Can I at least shower with you,” he asked, nuzzling into the back of your neck.

“Yes, of course,” you said, reaching behind yourself and scratching his head. You felt him, rather than saw him, relax against your back and you smiled.

“Are you less stressed,” he asked you and you sighed.

“I feel alright, Joonie. Could you tell I was really stressed?”

You turned to look at him. He had a knowing smirk on his face that made your blood boil and embarrassment pool in your belly. He grazed his lips over the damp skin that spanned under his finger and when he spoke, it was against the nerves on your body that stood on end for him.

“You talk in your sleep sometimes,” he said matter-of-factly. You sighed. Given away by your subconscious.

“Oh.”

“Besides, I have been watching you grade papers. You get this cute little fold between your eyebrows when you’re thinking too hard,” he rested a finger against your forehead where he indicated and massaged it in little circles. You let your shoulders fall. Who did you think you were kidding?

“I see… well I’m feeling a little better. Hopefully I can get some ideas to get my students to be more interested now that I’m not so wound up.”

“You’re a fantastic teacher,” Namjoon reasoned stroking your slightly messy hair, “you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah… I know you’re right,” you sighed letting a comfortable silence fall between you. Your brain was buzzing once again but this time it wasn’t stressful. It was with ideas for your classroom. You smiled, feeling a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

“I’m sure I’ll come up with something,” you shifted the conversation, “what about you? Any sudden inspiration for your lyrics?”

He didn’t speak and his chest tensed behind you. You felt like you had popped the bubble you were in. you should have kept your mouth shut.

“Yes actually,” he said but it didn’t feel directed at you. Within seconds, he’d let go of your body and was up, pulling on his boxers and looking for his phone. He frantically pulled up the notes app on it and typed furiously.

The shock quickly melted into amusement. You giggled at how his fingers slid over the glass screen. His focus on his cell.

“Well I’m glad I could help,” you said, finally standing up. you felt the liquid inside you shift and with a panicked last look at your inspired boyfriend, you ran to the restroom on the first floor.

“I’ll be in the shower. Have fun writing,” you yelled.

You thought you heard him say something but it was too muffled for you to understand. You didn’t wait for him to meet you in the bathroom. Instead, you jumped in,washing between your legs thoroughly and scrubbing your skin. When you were done, Namjoon was sitting on the floor of the living room. His laptop, journal and phone spread out on the coffee table. He had his airpods in and he was bobbing his head to something you couldn’t hear.

You didn’t interrupt. Instead you looked over his makeshift workstation and smiled. His journal was turned to one of the pages of lyrics that he’d been stuck on for months. Fresh ink rested on the browning lines and my heart soared. Turned out that our bad moods and mutual slumps were directly related to our lack of sexual life. Duly noting that fact, I kissed the top of his head and made my way back upstairs to get my bed sheets to wash, a smile plastered on my lips.

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