#this situation is a fucked up one for anyone to be in
Text
at first sight? — GOJO SATORU
pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader
word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)
banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!
a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!
content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts
analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.
here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.
with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!
and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.
to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)
it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?
your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.
coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.
because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.
it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.
nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.
well. except for one.
gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.
even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.
his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.
after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.
satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.
so imagine his surprise when he sees you.
a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.
“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.
gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.
you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.
that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.
satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.
but you simply smiled up at him.
“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.
gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.
how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.
gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?
and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.
was it really worth it?
what if he couldn’t protect you too?
so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.
as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.
and never will.
your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.
and that he doesn’t like you.
it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.
okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.
you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.
besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.
you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.
“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”
you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.
“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)
nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”
you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”
nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”
“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.
nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.
gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.
you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.
“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.
nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.
gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.
you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.
“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”
nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.
does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.
your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.
his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”
who knows, indeed.
megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.
“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.
the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”
satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.
meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”
“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.
his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.
“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”
megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”
“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”
despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)
your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.
there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.
“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.
as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”
the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”
“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.
you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”
“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.
(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)
you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.
“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”
you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.
a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.
the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)
after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.
“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”
megumi hums.
“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”
his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”
you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.
“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”
“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”
she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.
it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?
“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”
you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.
but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”
you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”
she shrugs again. “your call.”
your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”
shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”
oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”
you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.
why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.
shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.
“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?
as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!
ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.
well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.
“he’s on a mission where??”
you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.
“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.
the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”
you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.
it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)
either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.
you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.
(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)
gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.
while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”
it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.
and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.
“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”
“kikufuku.”
you stare at him, confused. “what?”
“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”
his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”
gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”
your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”
he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”
you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)
“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”
the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).
he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.
“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.
“gojo satoru.”
your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.
against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.
“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”
your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.
though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.
but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.
like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.
“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.
“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”
“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.
you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”
“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.
“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.
just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.
“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.
you eye him. “hey, gojo?”
“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)
you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”
he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.
you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”
“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”
satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.
“care to join me?”
but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.
you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.
satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.
but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.
when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”
he snorts. “yeah, i can.”
you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.
he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.
it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)
“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”
he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)
“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.
he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”
“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”
(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.
it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.
“hey, that one looks like you!”
“hah?!”
“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.
it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”
and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.
“yeah, we are.”
this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.
but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.
and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.
was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.
the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)
fuck.
after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..
it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.
once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”
you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”
she snorts. “well, it is my job.”
gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.
“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”
the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.
“they’ll be fine,” she says.
gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”
shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.
but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)
“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.
“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.
he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”
you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”
his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”
you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”
gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.
eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.
“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.
you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”
“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.
(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)
and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.
“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.
“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”
he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”
pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)
“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”
he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.
“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.
before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.
“d’you have a soulmate?”
satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.
and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?
before he can answer, you’re out like a light.
you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.
with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.
you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.
you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.
gojo.
you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.
after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.
you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.
he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.
you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”
you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.
when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.
he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.
you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)
“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”
you straighten up. “what?”
“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.
you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”
satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”
(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)
“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.
“satoru.”
“what?”
“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”
you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.
(he does too.)
satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”
“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”
he likes the way his name sounds from you.
“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”
oh.
fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”
“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.
keep saying his name.
“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.
(a lot of people have noticed actually.)
gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”
the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”
gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.
“heh, i guess i am.”
you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.
(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)
you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.
shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.
but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.
he’s wearing his glasses.
you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.
how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-
and then he’s gone.
you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.
he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.
“what the fuck was that?”
shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.
there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.
and you don’t know why.
it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.
satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.
and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.
then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?
however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.
is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?
satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.
“hey, what was that the other day?”
shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.
gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”
shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”
that’s the thing. you just might.
the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”
when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”
“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.
shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”
satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran last night. just my glasses was too risky.”
what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.
“how long have you-”
“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”
the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.
“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.
satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”
“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”
unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.
(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)
and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.
ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.
it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.
what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.
a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.
your heart drops.
it’s a grade one curse.
something’s not right.
satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-
you.
something’s not right.
and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.
fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.
it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.
you’re going to die.
you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.
the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.
your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.
satoru?
you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”
satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.
you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.
“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”
“satoru, we need to head back.”
he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”
he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.
the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—
“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.
“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.
“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.
“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”
“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”
“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.
he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”
you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”
“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.
“you did hurt me.”
gojo trembles. “i know.”
“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”
“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,
“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”
your heart skips a beat.
gojo satoru is your soulmate?
astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.
then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.
he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.
“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”
“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.
gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily. “please.”
still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.
“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”
your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”
satoru’s breath stutters.
“you haven’t seen my eyes.”
you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.
“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”
your confession has him stilling.
(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)
his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-
he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.
his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.
the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.
and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.
he’s kissing you.
he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.
and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.
you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-
suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.
less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.
“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.
“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”
his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,
“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”
“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.
your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”
“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”
his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,
the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.
as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.
your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.
“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.
you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.
so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.
that’s okay.
cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.
BONUS!
“you owe me.”
nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.
shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”
“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.
satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.
“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)
he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.
(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)
“‘toru, not here!”
nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”
TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen
+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3
like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist
#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x gn!reader#gojo x gender neutral reader#gojo x gn!reader#gojo x you#satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader fluff#gojo satoru x you fluff#satoru gojo x reader fluff#satoru gojo x you fluff#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x you fluff#satoru x reader fluff#satoru x you fluff#gojo satoru x reader angst#gojo satoru x you angst#satoru gojo x reader angst#satoru gojo x you angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#jujutsu kaisen x gn reader#my writing#rain’s writing
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girl, i wanna see you undo it
i wanna see you but you’re not mine.
how the other batboys react to a breakup
18+, mdni !!!!!!
readers can expect: a fem reader, lotttta angst, cursing, mentions of violence, sexually explicit scenes including mentions of penetration, oral, and masturbation. also tim drake being a creep via e-stalking but reader is aware of it and more or less okay with it.
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your ex boyfriend, bruce wayne, was avoiding alfred.
his butler was insisting on signing him up for therapy, and bruce was dodging him, hard. he didn’t have it in him. he wouldn’t go pay a professional to hear how pathetic he was over the lack of you in his life. couldn’t. he’s found a much more effective way to get out his emotions.
one that involves his fists and a goon’s face.
it was probably cruel, these poor goons were just trying to feed their families, or something, but batman was indifferent.
he was now always nearing dangerously close to breaking his no-kill rule. almost always teetering over that edge. even with his own life. he’d head out in the batsuit, prowling the seediest streets of gotham, hoping, practically praying, for someone to do something illegal. he would put himself in the most deadly situations just to feel alive. wasn’t the healthiest solution, but.
did he care? no.
bruce was numb, unfeeling to those around him. he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, not at the stupid fuck who’d lost the love of his life. he’d lagged behind in his case solving, gordon was growing increasingly more concerned. he was rude to the paparazzi asking after you, almost able to hear your voice in his ear, telling him to be nicer to them, whacking him on the bicep. he’d throw his usual charity galas, sure, but would send dick or jason in his place to showboat. he didn’t have the patience to talk to reporters. didn’t want to show face if you weren’t there on his arm. you always made the social aspect much more bearable. would always help him relieve the stress of it all after the event had ended.
but did he still care about you? yes.
just like when you were dating, bruce taking care of you was second nature.
he wouldn’t dare cancel the flower deliveries he’d set up when the two of you were together. they appeared at your apartment door every week and a half, always something different, but always in your favorite colors. you couldn’t stay mad at them either, the flowers brightened up your kitchen so nicely. when you and bruce were dating, he’d merged your calendars, just so scheduling was easier. you’d since deleted the connection, but he somehow still knows when you have appointments, as you’ll come out of your building’s lobby to a sleek black wayne enterprises car. the chauffeur opening the car door for you silently. you’d take it over the subway every time, even if it was a little awkward.
the dating app you’d downloaded after the breakup kept glitching, never letting you text any of your matches back. if you cared more, you’d contact support, but it was so odd. everything else on your phone works perfectly fine! but you had a gut feeling it had something to do with your ex boyfriend.
bruce might’ve slipped oracle a few bills for her silence over that favor.
he tried not to think about the fact you were already willing to start dating again. he couldn’t fathom being with anyone else. could not possibly wrap his head around it. why would he want anyone when he could have you? when he had already had you? everyone else seemed..lackluster.
it’s the same reason he’d been celibate since the breakup. after you, he was tainted. he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have sex again without thinking of you. especially in his own house. the two of you had fucked on every surface possible, seriously. tried every position.
it’d been difficult just sleeping in his own bed when he used to share it with you. used to make your legs shake as you gripped at the sheets. would never make you beg for anything, eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. that’s when bruce would press you up against him, holding you up with his huge arms as he pounded into you, his balls slapping against your clit as you whined, barely able to form words.
he’d never been with anyone the way he had with you. so obviously he wasn’t even able to finish with his own hand. it was nothing, nothing compared to the way you felt. his imagination would never have him moaning the way you could. could never make him melt the way you oh so easily were able to, with just a look.
so he was numb. and bruce just figured that’s how he’d stay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your ex boyfriend, jason todd, throws his book across the room, flinching when it thuds against the wall opposite.
annoyed at the surprise romantic subplot, he huffs out a breath from behind his hands. he has to get over his sudden aversion to romance, but it feels impossible after losing you. he can’t watch any of his favorite movies, can only read a select few of his favorite books.
he barely even goes out anymore, mostly to avoid seeing couples on dates. the two of you loved going out together, loved going out to community events like concerts in the park, fairs in the summer. he missed accompanying you to your nephew’s t-ball games, watching you cheer and beam up at him in one of his old baseball hats.
so he barely goes out. he doesn’t have you with him!
he saw an elderly couple strolling in the park the other day. jason had promptly turned in the opposite direction, to avoid crumpling into a ball and sobbing or throwing up into the nearest trash can.
he’d gotten back onto his bike and rode home, going way over the speed limit. he didn’t care about being safe on it anymore, not when you weren’t there to ask him to or be his backpack. he missed the way you’d hold on to him, your thighs bracketing his torso as the bike roared. how at stoplights you’d rub your palms over his chest, grabbing his pecs with your gloved hands. your resulting giggle was muffled through your motorcycle helmet, but it was still the sweetest sound in the world to him.
but jason stopped bothering trying to function out in public after that, only ever really leaving his place for missions and to train at wayne manor.
and boy, had he been training. ever since the two of you had broken up, he’d been working out to the point of exhaustion.
barely peeling himself off of the floor after each workout, always heading straight to the shower to rinse the sweat off while he zoned out into the steam. after his workouts was the only time he would relieve himself. he’d hunch over with one hand propping him up opposite the tiled wall, the other fisted around his cock as he thought of your pretty smile, your gorgeous eyes, the meat of your thighs, the curve of your ass. how you’d clench around his cock with yet another orgasm, moaning his name into the mattress.
he’d finish, hard, his body shuddering, leaving him to be ashamed with himself.
he wasn’t allowed to do this, he wasn’t allowed to think of you like you were still his. all this and yet the pain in his muscles still didn’t ease the pain in his heart, the pain seeping into his bones whenever he thought about you.
jason was still hesitant to be around his siblings.
you had left your perfume in his bathroom, and while he knows it sounds crazy, he's been spraying it on his clothes. he misses the way they would smell like you after you’d borrow them. he still hadn’t touched one of his flannels, the one you loved to steal and loved to see him in. he didn’t see the point in wearing it if you weren’t there to see it.
the last time he’d seen damian, his little brother had loudly asked him why he “smelled girly.”
jason had turned bright red and mumbled something probably unintelligible before briskly walking away, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.
he’s been spraying your perfume on the pillow you’d always use too, snuggling it close to his chest like he used to with you while he fell asleep.
it’s definitely not the same, but it’s the closest jason has to the real thing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tim drake, your ex boyfriend, swiveled in his desk chair, spinning back and forth. the monitors covering the wall above his desk were alive with various video feeds and social media websites.
@user892548276 was viewing your instagram story, a gorgeous selfie of you that tim had already screenshotted. he had plans for that later. @gothamite69 was liking your latest tweet, while @ilovedoggiess couldn’t get enough of your latest tiktok.
he knew he had to switch up the users so you’d think it was bots. you’d figure it out otherwise. too bad he had a thing for smart people.
he nodded, satisfied at the cctv feed of the street your apartment building was on, before throwing a hoodie on over his bare chest. tim strolled into the kitchen, his sweats slung low on his hips. he ran a hand through his hair, using the other to grab the coffee pot to refill his mug.
“hey, tim. whatcha up to?” jason leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
tim jumped, turning around.
“just some surveillance, nothing much.” he replied, hoping he sounded nonchalant.
“ohh, that case for bats?”
“mmhm.” tim cracked his knuckles, something of a nervous habit he’d developed after the breakup. and his serious lack of sleep.
“well, i won’t keep you. tell y/n i said hi!”
tim flinched at the mention of you as jason left in the direction of the garage. it’s not his brother’s fault. jay had been really busy with the outlaws lately, never home long enough to realize tim hadn’t brought you over in weeks. tim scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. maybe it was the exhaustion muddling things, but tim can’t remember the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep. it was already difficult falling asleep. it only made it worse that every time he did fall asleep he dreamed about you.
but dick had noticed. he had slowly transitioned tim’s assignments to mainly desk work. his older brother was probably worried about him being too tired on the field and getting hurt. but he hadn’t told bruce. tim preferred it that way. he didn’t need a big fuss about if he was okay or his performance level as a hero.
tim grabbed his mug, making his way back to his bedroom. he caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the window, spooking himself. he was on edge so much worse than usual. his reflection stared back at him, his face skinny and his eyebags dark against the pale skin of his cheeks.
tim shook his head, heading into his bedroom. he swayed a little, locking the door behind him. he set his mug on his desk, sitting down in his chair just in time to see you heading down the street.
he stood up so fast his chair rocketed back, hitting the wall. you usually don’t go out on thursday nights. is everything okay??
he types frantically, finding different angles to effectively follow you down the street, physically recoiling to see you stop at a restaurant. just another date.
you stopped, looking around, waving when you spot a blond guy walking towards you. tim enhances the best he can, zooming in on this asshole who thinks he’s good enough for you. tim scoffs out loud at the wrinkled shirt your date has on, looking ridiculous in comparison to your beauty.
the sundress you’re in is one of his favorites, red and white and flowery. he gulps down a sip of coffee at his screen when you turn around, the fabric hugging your body. he blinks, snapping out of it as your date ushers you into the restaurant. tim cracks his knuckles. he reaches for his phone, pulling up your contact. he itches to call you, to pull you out of the date you’re on, to make you think about him instead of that tool you’re with.
but he can’t. he shouldn’t.
he pulls up the screenshot of your story instead, staring at the selfie of you in his favorite sundress. his cock twitches against the fabric of his sweats. he can’t even count how many times he’s had you rutting against him with that dress hiked up to your waist.
he tosses his phone onto his bed, sitting back in his desk chair as he palms his cock, his brain full of thoughts of you.
you pressed up against him in a slinky dress as you slow dance at a wayne gala. waking up in your bed how the two of you fell asleep, naked, limbs intertwined. dancing in a gotham nightclub together, your hair in your face as you throw your arms up and swivel your hips in his direction in your shortest dress. the texts and pictures you’d been sending back and forth after the breakup, unable to let each other go.
tim throws his head back as he finishes, your name on his lips. his body rigid, the warm liquid all over his hands. he cleans himself off, staring into nothing until his computer dings at the motion detected on your street. you’re strutting down the sidewalk, the street empty. before you head inside your building, you stare into the cctv camera across the street. you wave, smiling coyly. tim sits up straighter, holding his breath. you hold up your thumb, and tim groans. that guy??
but you flip your thumb down at the camera, shaking your head. bad date.
tim whoops, beaming.
he shuts down his computer before flopping onto his bed, burrowing under the covers. five minutes later, he’s fast asleep as his coffee grows cold where it sits on his desk.
#I WANNA SEE YOU BUT YOURE NOT MINE!!!!#undo by the 1975#song fic#ex bf!jason todd#the batboys x you#dc comics smut#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd fanfiction#red hood smut#ex bf!tim drake#ex bf!bruce wayne#batman x fem!reader#batman x y/n#batman x you#batman x reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#tim drake x fem!reader#red robin x reader#tim drake x reader#—ness’s quick fics#—ness writes
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May I please request any comfort fluff with Jiyan from Wuthering Waves if you're open to those requests?🙏😔 I need bro to comfort me
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m sorry?’ You asked, looking up to see Jiyan stood over your seated form with conceding lacing his golden eyes.
‘Are you okay?’ He repeated, sitting down next to you, ‘you’ve been acting differently as of late and I feel as though there’s more to it than just a shift in personality.’
You chuckled humourlessly, the jig was up and you knew it but were too stubborn to accept help from anyone, especially from one who had more important matters at hand than your slight decline in mental health. ‘It’s nothing, honestly, I’m just a little-‘
‘Tired?’ Jiyan cuts you off and suddenly your throat felt drier than a desert and he must’ve known that he caught you in your one lie as he levels you with a stare, leaning slightly towards you. ‘How often have you used being tired as an excuse because people in your past have proven themselves ill equip with handling a difficult situation, despite saying false promises of being there for when life gets hard.’
‘Way too fucking often.’ You replied. ‘It’s like they were only in my life to take something from me, why? I’ll never know because they’re all gone and fucked off, like they didn’t just tore my souls to shreds snd left me to pick up the pieces.’ You concluded and it wasn’t until then did you realise that you had started to cry when Jiyan wordlessly wiped one away with his thumb.
You had let your guard slip, the one thing you’ve promised yourself to never do again in the presence of another person due to how they made it all about them; not to mention how they gone on about how suddenly they couldn’t handle your baggage before ghosting you completely whenever you tried to reach out to them again. You didn’t deserve that type of treatment and you know it, but you’ve less yourself to believe that their reaction will be how others would perceive your situation, and so you never bothered reaching out for help and instead letting it bottle up inside until you cracked.
‘I’m sorry.’ You gasped as you began to violently wipe away at your eyes when Jiyan held your wrists in his hand and brought them away from your face.
‘Don’t apologise,’ he started, ‘never apologise for your own emotions nor the people who’ve made you believe that others would turn a blind eye to your plan, for that is simply not true, but I understand that this is a hard mentality for one to unlearn after so long.’ Jiyan wasn’t well versed in comforting others, seeing as how he spent most of his life in the frontlines of the battlefield as both a medic and general, but that didn’t stop him from recognising that a misdeed had been committed against you and that he wouldn’t allow; So for you, jiyan would try his best to provide comfort that you needed.
‘Oh yeah? And who’s going to change that then you?’ You scoffed.
‘Yes.’ Jiyan answered without hesitation and a seriousness you’ve only ever seen in battle and that alone had you choke on your own words.
‘Why?’ You asked, looking into his eyes in hopes of getting the answer you wanted, you wanted to look for a lie within his eyes but his eyes only told you that he was being genuine with his words.
‘I want to prove that if there is one person who’s willing to shoulder your burdens with you, it’s me.’ He tells you. ‘I will not allow you to suffer alone during you’re in pain. So please, allow me to lend you aid in these difficult times.’
You stayed silent for a bit and Jiyan thought that he may have overstepped a boundary or two but his own worries were put to rest when you gripped onto his hand just as he was about to pull away. ‘If it’s not too much trouble for you.’
‘I wouldn’t have suggested such if it was, which it isn’t.’ Jiyan cuts you off softly.
‘Then I guess it couldn’t hurt.’ You said, slowly beginning to grow hope for this seemingly small promise.
#wuwa#wuwa x reader#wuwa x you#wuthering waves#wuthering waves x reader#Wuthering waves imagine#Wuthering waves imagines#Wuwa imagine#wuwa imagines#jiyan x reader#jiyan x you#jiyan imagine#jiyan imagines
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I, personally, hate the r@pe things you write.
I feel very strongly about SA and I know my feelings aren't your priority. I used to read your stuff a lot then actually ended up blocking you, but I decided to unblock you for this message.
I know a lot of people use this as a coping mechanism if they ARE victims, but hey, to each their own. You can't save everybody.
I just don't fuck with it. It's not my forte, but I know, deep down, you're not a bad person. Your brain just doesn't completely function. I, myself, have weird fantasies about military men and serial killers, but only about one's from shows, movies, or basically anyone fictional. I, myself, am extremely weird and I think I have a few mental disorders but I haven't gotten tested.
The things you write are vial, disgusting, and down right crazy, but hey, I used to fantasize about r@pe and honestly can't even imagine myself fantasizing about being violated now. I guess I've healed in a way or whatever, but I'm still into rough play and knives and such.
What im trying to say is, I feel for you and don't like your stuff at the same time. Nobody with a normal functioning, properly working brain is into what your into. It's just plain wrong. But that doesn't mean you're bad. You're just...mentally unput. Or, that's my assumption from first hand experience.
I just feel like your brain is messed up. Not in a quirky " I'm so twisted⛓️" way, but there's actually something wrong in there. Like, you're actually missin' a few dozen screws.
I have awful intrusive thoughts about hurting, killing, and/or fornicating with them and I hate this because it's a mental battle that honestly makes me wanna commit, which is why I feel so strongly about r@pe, especially as someone who gets catcalled a lot, and I am in dangerous situations often.
R@pe is worse than murder in my opinion because you can't hurt once you're done and dead, but being a survivor is an actual psychological battle that's torture, and torture is ALSO worse than murder.
I'm glad to know you don't actually support real SA and have some actual boundaries unlike the tons of idiots that I've blocked that do. Most of them have never even come close to experiencing SA, or just plain don't care.
I just think you feel this way because an actual issue with your brain. I don't mean this hatefully, even though I hate what you write. But that's just my analysis. But I am curious to know what made you this way.
you're a disgusting piece of shit, you don't know me, and let's keep it that way
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Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au Part 1
Prompt Part 2
Fuck me, that's what I get for not wearing my helmet tonight. Jason came to with numb hands and legs, burning shoulders, a gag tight in his mouth, and a pounding headache. His ears rang and a groan escaped his throat before he could keep quiet. He slowly cracked an eye open and when he wasn't blinded took stock of the situation he was in. He was kneeling, tied to a post behind him and in the middle of what appeared to be a magic circle of some kind. At the edges of the circle there were candles, a bright Lazarus green, and beyond that were robed figures.
Great, cultists. Perfect. The ringing in his ears started to fade as chanting filled the room. After the first repetition of unfamiliar words the flames of each candle one by one turned black, and once it came around, the edges of the circle started to glow bright green. The glow followed the path written in what Jason assumed was blood until the entire thing was glowing bright enough that Jason had to squint to try and make out any of the symbols and commit them to memory, any little thing could be a clue after all.
As the chanting got louder and louder, the glow shone brighter and brighter. He could feel a build up of energy and his hair began to stand on end like lightning was about to strike. The light became blinding and the pressure in the air built up until he felt he couldn't breathe, he could smell ozone in the air and suddenly the light returned to normal, he collapsed forward and his cheek hit carpet.
"Oh my Ancients! Are you alright?" He heard a feminine voice say and let out a pitiful groan. "That's probably a dumb question, one second let me grab something to cut those ropes and I'll help you up."
He heard shuffling and opened his eyes to a purple shag carpet with the magic circled burned into it and registered the ozone scent shifted to a burning smell. He tried moving his arms and yelped in response. He heard a thud and a quiet curse as his apparent savior stopped rifling through their drawers with a quiet "Aha!" He turned his head towards the sound and his mind stuttered to a halt for a moment.
Stood there, with a sword at least as long as the Demon Spawn is tall, was a woman Jason would expect to find in Themyscira. She stood almost seven feet tall with long red hair pulled back into a high ponytail braid, a helm-like crown adorning her head. Muscled shoulders had a black capelet from one and a pauldron on the other. She wore golden bracers like Wonder Woman on her forearms and armor similar in shape, but black with a symbol blazoned across the chest, under the armor she wore a teal toga. He turned his attention to her face and found a sheepish expression in those teal eyes.
"I absolutely forgot I had my sword with me today because of the council meeting. Let me just-" she quickly strode forward and cut first his feet and then his hands free, and after giving up on the knot, carefully cut the gag from his mouth. She knelt down and helped him to sit more comfortably. "Do you think you can make it to the couch? it's very comfy, I use it when I need a break between council meetings."
Jason tried standing and his legs protested feeling like pins and needles and tv static. He shook his head and she nodded thinking to herself. "Okay then, here."
Jason blue-screened as he realized he was suddenly being held in a bridal carry by this woman like it was nothing. He blushed from his neck to the tips of his ears as she carried him to her honest to god fainting couch and placed him upon it like a swooning maiden.
"So, um, hi, my name is Jasmine, please just call me Jazz regardless of whatever you hear anyone else here call me. Do you need some water? I'm gonna order some water, and some painkillers maybe? Honestly, I'm just gonna ask them to send one of the yeti healers to take a look at you and I'll need to ask someone who can read ghost speak to translate whatever brought you here." She rambled and made her way to one of the doors and spoke with someone just outside.
Jason laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and trying to get himself focused on the situation at hand. So facts so far: he was just used as a sacrifice of some kind, he was teleported somewhere unknown to him at this moment, and whoever he was sacrificed to seems to be some form of royalty and was arguably the most attractive and so far kind woman he's ever met. He nodded to himself and carefully pealed the red domino mask from his face.
"Jason." He said to her as she turned back to him after closing the door. She stopped for a moment, eyes wide. "My name, it's Jason."
She blushed a moment. "Right, yes, nice to meet you Jason, I wish it was under literally any other circumstances." She said walking forward to shake his hand.
"So, uh, where are we?" He asked, gesturing to what Jason assumed was a window, but wasn't certain because the sky was green and purple and had floating doors and islands in it.
She closed her eyes and seemed to take a fortifying breath. "Right. What do you know about the supernatural, besides the obvious that apparently magic circles work?"
Jason thought about what he could say here. Should he bring up his time in the All Caste? Should he bring up the Lazarus pits? I don't know enough about the situation yet. "I know that magic is real, kinda hard not to what with heroes like Zattana and Raven making headlines and the fact the city I live in is hella cursed."
He watched some tension leave her shoulders, but not all the way. "Good, I won't have to go over that particular world-shattering revelation, though I'll probably ask you more about those heroes you were talking about, I haven't heard of them." Jason was stunned for a moment, but she continued. "We are in a sort of, Between. We are in the Infinite Realms, the existence between existences. The Infinite Realms is the space between the dimensions of the multiverse. We are currently in the castle of the ruler of the Infinite Realms, more specifically my office." She hesitated before continuing. " I'm, sort of, the Queen Regent actually." She said embarrassed.
Jason processed that for a moment, and she let him. So, the multiverse is real, and he was apparently just sacrificed to the ruler of the dimension between dimensions. She let him sit with that information, letting him come up with his own questions, when there was a knock at the door.
"Excuse me your majesty, you called for a healer and scholar? I had not left yet from the earlier council meeting and figured I could be of assistance." A tall yeti with ice for one of his arms and frozen horns atop his head appeared in the doorway. What also appeared seemed to be a literal skeleton that pushed a tea cart with a pitcher of water and little finger sandwiches on it into the room and left again.
"Frostbite! Perfect, first, can you take a look at Jason, he was apparently sacrificed and judging from the blood in his hair he at least has a head injury. Then the circle he appeared in burned itself into the carpet, I'm still not great at reading ghost speak, especially in an older dialect, I can't figure out what it says." Jazz spoke in a rush as she walked toward the cart to get some water for Jason.
Frostbite had a kind smile as he turned to Jason and pulled out a first aid kit from seemingly nowhere. "Yes, hello, you must be Jason. How are you feeling? What hurts in particular?" Jason went along with the examination, and gladly accepted the glass of water from Jazz as she handed it to him. "Well it looks to me like you mostly just need to rest and maybe take some painkillers. Here," The yeti carefully handed him a small cup with two over-the-counter pain pills in it. "Alright, now let's take a look at this circle!" He stood to his full height, carefully ducking to avoid knocking his horns on the chandelier. He observed it for a moment, humming to himself from time to time. "Right, so this appears to be a binding ritual, somehow tied to the Solstice celebrations. Typically it entwines the soul of the sacrifice to the being they were sacrificed to. Somewhere in the archives there is likely more information about it, but you'll probably have to spend quite some time searching."
Jazz looked pained for a moment. "Okay, do you think it can be broken?" Her face showed hope, but with an underlay of resignation.
Frostbite thought for a moment. "There are some, though most are permanent. I can send over some of my scholars to help locate the correct ritual, I would suggest asking the Master of Time as he would know for certain, but you know how they can be." He straightened before bowing to both Jazz and Jason. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Queen Regent and Lord Jason, I must make my way back to the Far Frozen to gather those to help your search. Good day." With that, the yeti left the two of them alone.
Jazz sighed heavily and put her face in her hands. She growled, frustrated, before she straightened after having made a decision. "Okay, so you're probably going to be staying her for a little while while we figure all this out. Let me show you to a room so you can rest a bit, and I'll have one of my aides bring you some clothes so yours can get washed too."
She led him through the passageways of the gothic castle, it's black stone bricks and tapestries of silver seeming to glow. They stopped at the third of a row of doors and went inside. The room was large, twenty-foot ceilings and a bay window with a sitting nook framed by two large bookcases stood across the room. A massive bed with an intricate quilt portraying what seemed to be a battle between supernatural entities was braced against one wall with a grand fireplace on the opposite wall.
"The door to the left of the fireplace leads to the bathroom, the first thing I did when I took over was make sure there was hot water and large soaking tubs in all the bedrooms here. There should be bathrobes of varying sizes in the closet that offshoots the bathroom. If you need anything, I'm probably going to be in my office for the next few hours and there is always the bell by the door for stuff like, food or whatever. Um, I guess I'll leave you to it?" She shuffled nervously out the door, leaving him standing there, hand half raised in an awkward wave goodbye.
He chuckled to himself for a moment before striding over to the bed and sitting down to start unstrapping his body armor and boots. Once stripped to his boxers, he made his way to the bathroom and was pleasantly surprised to find not only a large soaking tub, but also a shower with a bench to sit. He quickly showered all the grime from the last few hours from his body, careful to get the matted blood in his hair untangled. Once finished, he started filling the tub before walking towards the closet where he found not only bathrobes, but also bath salts and bath bombs. Deciding to indulge, he grabbed one of each in similar enough scents and dropped both into the bath tub before easing himself into the hot water. He hissed at the temperature before it started easing the aches across all his muscles. He shut off the faucet and then leaned back and allowed himself to think.
So, he thought, I am in an alternate dimension, in the castle of the extremely attractive Queen Regent of said dimension, and my soul is apparently bound to her for the foreseeable future. He thunked his head on the walls of the tub contemplating the facts laid before him. He startled, shooting forward with his back straight.
"Wait a minute!" He said to himself. "Wait a god damned minute!" He smacked his forehead with his hand and ran it through his hair. "I'm in a romance novel plotline! Bound to an entity of unknown power against my will, but the entity is actually a kind and beautiful woman! Holy shit! I can't screw this up!"
Decision made, Jason Peter Todd, closeted romance novel enthusiast, began to plan.
#dpxdc#fanfic#dp x dc#dcxdp#dc x dp#sacrificial bride au#i have no idea where this came from#it burst forth from me#like alien spawn#anger management ship#hardcover ship
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BOY NEXT DOOR:: lee haechan
WARNING:: unprotected sex, grinding, hair pulling, spanking, oral f! receiving, fingering, vaginal sex, choking, biting, overstimulation, masturbating.
SUMMARY:: the image that your best friend has grown amongst your community is not the same one you’ve grown to know over the years, stubborn and attention seeking is all Haechan can be described in your, even if he’s fucking you in the raunchiest ways.
A/N:: we’re back in business!!! I just graduated, it’s almost been 4 months??? But now that it’s summer break I will be trying to post more often key word TRYING.
Haechan is a nice guy, everyone knows him, wants to be him, Hell even has crushes on him. You would know, you're his best friend, his neighbor, you had people coming up to you in class asking for his number and were bold enough to assume the two of you were dating.
I mean from anyone on the outside, or that lived in your neighborhood, people could painfully see how the two of you made heart eyes at each other. Yet every time Haechan was sneaking through your window at 3 am it's when he drops the act.
The boy next door who was so sweet to everyone didn't have a care in the world, his innocence shined brightly to any bystanders. Yet why was that when he sneaks into your bedroom after climbing the small treehouse the two of you made in your adolescence just to make out or even hook up?
It had gotten to the point you would continuously leave your window cracked just so he could come in. And like any other night, he pushed the window open and climbed right in, no shoes, just regular fitted sweats, a hoodie. You were laying in bed comfortably and looking down at your phone while he shut the window seeing how the winds began to pick up.
One of the lamps on your desk beside your bed keeping the room dimly lit, your bed was calling his name. Haechan had gathered his thoughts and courage before he decided to climb through that window yet now that he was situated under your sheets and putting his head on your shoulders watching you text someone he had felt a pang in his chest. A feeling he didn't know what to call.
You weren't dating, so why did he not like seeing you text someone else? This wasn't high school. You guys are friends and old enough to talk about how you feel, so why was it that Haechan was struggling to find the words on the tip of his tongue? These were all questions he had an answer for but refused to conclude.
Jealousy is a bitter bitch, and Haechan just so happens to be casually introduced to said bitch. He let out a sigh as the voices in the back of his head shouted at him to snatch your phone out of your hand and make you pay attention to him, and only him. So that's what he did.
His honey slender fingers find their way to your phone snatching it out of your loose grip and tossing it to the other end of the bed. "What the fuck?" You question looking at him with furrowed brows while he makes the same back at you.
The look on your face just made Haechan get pushed over the edge. Cupping your jaw he pulled you in for a kiss as he sucked in a deep breath, you arch your eyebrows pulling back "what is with you?" You ask as he continues to peck at your lips you hesitantly kiss him back his eyes were shut while yours were wide open.
"I just want all your attention" he whispers as his hand's trail to your waist gripping and pulling you closer and closer. Your lips pressing against his as you're content with his answer, your kiss is firm and addictive. Your warmth was enough to make his head spin, he had no idea what you were doing to him but he surely was hooked on the feeling of you.
Your legs are tangled with each other as you feel his tongue lick a small stripe on your bottom lip as he waits for entry. Opening your mouth in an instant you feel his warm tongue glide against yours as the both of you are breathing heavily and letting out small groans and whimpers.
The room was becoming warm but the feeling of his cold hands slipping under your shirt and rubbing at the bare skin on your waist set your skin ablaze, you've never gone weak in the knees over a make out with Haechan but this- this was completely different from any hookup or 20-minute make-out session.
It was more passionate and needy, all things you've ever done with your best friend were the complete opposite; rough, lust built. You couldn't blame Haechan though, he was rather the character in high school he decided to be headstrong and not follow the crowd of sex-crazed teens, yet once he made it to college he finally realized what the craze truly was.
the pleasure was a huge factor for Haechan outside of the public eye, he lost his first kiss and virginity to you, so he couldn't help but feel that attachment to you, some lines blurred and somewhere in the mix, he forgot to truly play a role as a best friend and not a boyfriend.
"You wanna do this now?" You asked as your wet lips ghost over his and your foreheads are pushed together gently. You knew Haechan was worked up but from the way he was acting, you weren't sure if he wanted to have sex or just kiss a bit and ache for attention.
But when his lips trail from the corner of your lips to your neck as he whispers out a "yes" you know exactly what he wanted. He felt himself slipping into a space nothing like before, he just needed you and it was almost like you were some snake with a death grip on his heart as you slowly but surely snake him into your grasp.
Your thighs clench and rub together as that incessant warmth between your legs becomes stronger and stronger. You bite at your swollen bottom lip letting your eyes roll back at the feeling of him sucking harshly on your skin leaving small hickeys that would bloom into pretty little splotches of red and purple.
Haechan learned what made you feel good and what didn't, your body was like a maze of wonders and he knew every curve and edge that could be marked up and tainted by him was nothing short of him knowing you like the back of his hand.
His hands trail up your back finding the clip of your bra and unhooking it, of course, your shirt was in the way making Haechan groan, let his hand slip from under your shirt to the hem and pull it over your head. The straps fall down your arms.
Your bare chest being exposed to the cold air, your nipples being hard as Haechan lets his palms rest against your chest, you let out small whines at the feeling. You lift your left leg over his making you straddle him, your ass pushing down on his bulge.
You fight your urge to grind against his lap to get yourself off. But once his hands find your waist he begins to guide them back and forth your panties that still cover your pussy rubbing against his gray sweatpants.
You could feel the vibrations sent up your body as he groaned against your lips as they needily pressed into yours. His hips began to move as he became more and more addicted to the feeling of you pressed against his restrained dick.
Once you stop rocking your hips against his, Haechan uses this as his opportunity to lift your leg over his and press your back softly into the sheets. He was casting a shadow over you as he found himself bent over between your thighs kissing down your chest to the waistband of your panties.
Haechan grabs hold onto the elastic band with both of his index fingers slowly pulling them away from your soaking core, Haechan felt a moan bubble in his chest when he saw the way your panties were practically sticking to your skin as it was covered in your slick.
Pulling the thin fabric down your legs and past your ankles he tosses it somewhere on your floor leaving you completely naked. Haechan began kissing from your lower stomach down until he was near your slit. Fighting the small smirk on his lips he kisses up your thigh leaving behind small hickeys.
You let out a small whine from his teasing "Haechan please" you beg under your breath not wanting to let the begging get to his ego, yet here he was with his face between your thighs looking up at you with faux innocence asking "what was that? Can you say it louder?" You knew what he was doing yet of course you were going to say it again because the tingling between your thighs was becoming unbearable.
"Please," you say with slight frustration, he didn't need to hear anything more than that. He wrapped both his hands around your plush thighs as he puckers his lips letting a small Pearl of spit fall into your glistening pussy. You throbbed at the feeling meanwhile Haechan lifts his hand and lets the pad of his thumb rub the saliva against your clit making you bite your lip with pleasure.
The feeling of his warm tongue lick a small stripe against your clit made you gasp, flattening his tongue he eases more into you, sucking on your clit you let out a breathy moan while your hand reaches into his hair tugging in the semi-wet strands.
His warm tongue lapping you up made your eyes roll back, his hand resting on your lower stomach began to find its way to your entrance, his fingers waiting for a moment to let his two fingers push inside you knuckles deep.
Your small moans and whimpers were making Haechan rut into the sheets as his bulge desperately begged for friction and in this best-case, he began to weakly hump the mattress and sheets that pressed his dick in all the right ways. His fingers push into your rigid and silky walls making your back arch in utter euphoria from the feeling of being stuffed with his fingers.
Your hands tug at his hair even harder as he begins to plunge his fingers inside of you at a bit of an excessive rate. The way Haechan along fingers curled inside you made your eyes roll back, his nose brushing against your pelvic bone as his tongue practically completely licks you clean.
You were gasping at the pressure at the pit of your stomach, Haechan let out muffled groans against your pussy as he continuously licked and sucked on your clit while his long finger rubbed against your rigid walls in places that your small fingers compared to his could never reach.
kissing your clit as he added another one of his fingers, a total of three now roughly pounding into you. He was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, ready to catch you. "Fuck!- oh my" you gasp feeling his suck on your clit harshly making you cum.
Kissing your clit gently as you come down from your high you feel your hips twitch at the feeling, your mind was utterly blown away from how good Lee Haechan is at giving head. You could hear the sheets rustling and clothes sliding off the boy's skin and dropping to the floor as you stared at your ceiling in an utter daze.
Your thighs glisten with slickness as Haechan's knees dig into the mattress while moving between your thighs, this time he's completely naked. His hard dick pushes up against his lower abdomen while you look at his toned body.
You don't know what was up with Haechan today, he's being more passionate with you and you liked it. It wasn't easy accepting the request of your long-time crush to be friends with benefits, yet you took what you could get.
His hand grabs at his base as he jerks himself off at the sight of you, your dazed face, your pretty pussy on display from him with your legs wide open and him managing to squeeze into the space between your thighs.
"You ready?" He asked looking down at you with hearts in his eyes, you nod and let out a hum confirming that you did want to continue. "Okay, turn around," he says softly. He almost moaned watching your chest bounce as you lifted yourself and turned onto your stomach arching your bag while the bed dipped under your knees.
"Fuck" he harshly whispers as his palm rubs against your ass. Guiding his tip to your slit he teasingly rubs in the precum that was building at his blushed tip making you whine at the friction on your sensitive clit. Haechan let out a small groan, finally letting himself be vocal.
Prodding his tip at your entrance and pushing it in until he felt your rigid walls accept his tip, both of you wincing as he slowly continues to thrust deeper inside of you until he bottoms out. His hips touch your ass as he gently begins to thrust, feeling the way you tighten at his shallow strokes.
The sound of yours and his moans with the low squelching of your slick was all that could be heard within the walls of your room. The way your walls hugged Haechan so deliciously made his grip on your waist tight as his nails dig crescents into your skin as he continues to give you shallow thrusts.
Your moans were weak and it made Haechan want to hear you, even more, he wanted everyone to hear you. His hips began to push harder into you making you moan louder in huffs. Your chest pushed against the sheets as your sensitive nipples rubbed against the fabric making it harder not to moan.
"Fuck- Haechan you feel so good" you slur as your hands clutch the sheets, the sounds coming from your lips make it hard for the boy to choke back his moans his hand leaving your waist to your neck putting little pressure as he pulls your back to his firm chest.
You let your hips bounce in his lap with every roll of his hips as the sound of skin against skin resides in the air. Your eyes were fixated on the ceiling as you fuck yourself on his dick and you were just overwhelmed with pleasure while hearing his moans in your ear.
He's picking up his pace Haechan lifts his head from your shoulder and lets go of your neck as he grabs ahold of your hair pushing you back down onto the bed, his grip was tight yet you didn't mind as he pounded you into the sheets at a bruising pace.
Haechan was hitting spots he had never even touched before when you had sex that made you slur out whines gripping at your sheets "right there! Please don't fucking stop" you moan letting your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly with each hard thrust.
Pushing your back down a bit harder to the point it almost hurt to arch your back Haechan felt himself tipping over the edge at the feeling "right here? Does it feel good like this?" He moaned breathily as he practically shivered at the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him harder.
You nod eagerly as you feel the same pressure at the pit of your stomach "touch yourself for me" he groaned tossing his back, you let your hand slip between your spread legs that jiggled with each hard deep thrust as your middle and ring finger rub small circles on your clit.
You whine as Haechan lets out a string of moans continuously pounding into you, the headboard on your bed practically thumping into the drywall, you were surprised the bed hadn't broken the way Haechan was fucking you like a bunny in heat. You let your head fall into the mattress as you moan his name loudly, the feeling of your orgasm approaching vastly you lift your head "I'm gonna cum" you say as your lungs burn.
"Wait. I'm close too" he ordered and you listened, you tried hard to hold your orgasm and it wasn't until you felt Haechan start twitching inside your spasming walls had you decided to move your hips against his speeding up the pace as you were crying out for your orgasm.
The pressure finally releases as you both cum at the same time, you continue to move your hips as you fuck yourself through your high feeling how his cum paints your insides white with a warm feeling. "Fuck you feel so damn good" Haechan sighs as you continue to clench down on him. You hiccup as you feel yourself become overstimulated.
Haechan grinds into you seeing how your hips shake from overstim earning a whine from you "I- I'm too sensitive, please" you whimper as your voice becomes higher. Haechan was becoming addicted to the small sound he was hearing slip past your lips.
His hips thrusting into at a fast pace yet not enough to shake the bed, "you can give me one more right baby? Hm?" He asked as he felt himself becoming overstimulated as well, he didn't care as he continued to sloppily pound you.
Your hands shakily reach behind you to grab at his hands that were resting on your hips "please- it's too much" you moan as his hands simply swat your hands away as he gives a harsh slap to your ass making you moan at the pain and pleasure.
Your breathing was shaky and all you could do was try and push away from by closing your legs or even trying to pull away yet with each attempt you felt Haechan's hand crack down on your ass leaving a red hand print. You feel yourself shaking as your orgasm abruptly hits you, the feeling of clenching down sends shivers down Haechan's spine as he cums again.
Finally letting himself soften inside you he pulls out watching as a mixture of his and your cum dribbles down your slit and makes a small stain on the bed sheet. Haechan lazily crawls to the other side of the bed to lay down with a huff, doing the same your sweaty and fucked out face lays against the pillow almost falling asleep.
Being brought out of your hazy mind state he fills you against his chest that was thumping like crazy as he still had an adrenaline rush. "Don't go to sleep yet we're gonna shower and get cleaned up okay?" He says looking down at you who was now slowly blinking away the sleep in your eyes "okay" you whisper making him smile and kiss your temple letting the moment sink in.
Haechan knew he had feelings for you, maybe this moment just was an exclamation point on his mind finally settling with the words spelled out for him.
©neopercs
#𖦹—( neo percs )#haechan smut#haechan hard hours#haechan hard thoughts#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#haechan x reader#haechan imagines
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Charlie: "So! How DID talking with Carmilla go?"
Vaggie: "Uhh..."
Charlie: (laughs) HA! Yeah- the giant weapons delivery kinda gives me an idea it went preeeetty good, but was it nice? Did you have fun? Did you find out how angels die? Did you two have TEA??"
Vaggie: "It was nice I had fun I know how angels die and no there wasn't any tea."
Charlie: "None? Phooey."
Vaggie: "Did you have any uh, tea in... Cannibal Town?"
Charlie: "None! No finger foods either! They were only a snack for the eyes- you can kiss me and double check, if you want to~"
Vaggie: "Tempting." (chuckles) "And distracting. Let's cover the angel killing stuff first, okay babe?"
Charlie: (sigh) "If we HAVE to..."
Vaggie: "I'll make it quick. You know Carmine's fancy dance slippers?"
Charlie: "Shiny!"
Vaggie: "Made from heavenly steel, turns out."
Charlie: "Oooooh!"
Vaggie: "She used them to kick the head off an Exorcist, last extermination day."
Charlie: "Oh wow. NOT the scenario I was expecting."
Vaggie: "Yeah, she told me about it while kicking me in the face with them-"
Charlie: "SHE WHAT"
Vaggie: "-and even when she explained the whole 'trying to protect her daughters' thing, internally I was still like, dancing someone to death is one of least practical ways of killing-"
Charlie: "She kicked you in the head with her angel killing slippers?!?"
Vaggie: "-long fight scene cut short, she makes it work. But I'm still sticking with my spear for the battle."
Charlie: "VAGGIE!!!"
Vaggie: "I don't care what Carmine or anyone else says. Spears are-"
Charlie: "SHE COULD'VE KILLED YOU!"
Vaggie: "...I know? That's why you asked me to talk with her?"
Charlie: "......."
Charlie: "I think. I'm gonna be sick."
Vaggie: "Aw babe." (brushed back charlie's bangs) "Cannibal Town finger foods finally catching up with you?"
Charlie: "No. Yes. They're not helping but it's more of a 'if my girlfriend had gotten killed, where would the finger of blame be pointed at' kinda thing."
Vaggie: "Sweetie no..."
Charlie: "Sweetie YES. I sent you there."
Vaggie: "And if Carmine had gotten my head, it would've been my fault for being so out of practice and shit at fighting."
Charlie: "UGH."
Vaggie: "Thanks for that, by the way."
Charlie: "What? For WHAT? Saying 'oh hey Vaggie guess what you can die!' and sending you to the Overlord who can kill you????"
Vaggie: "For keeping me out of practice at fighting."
Vaggie: (smooches gf)
Vaggie: "I like kissing you way better, honestly."
Charlie: "... well... well maybe you could still use some practice."
Vaggie: "With the kissing?"
Charlie: "Both. Kissing and fighting. I want you alive at the end of the battle so we can do more smooching afterwards. Okay?"
Vaggie: "Okay."
Charlie: "You'll get better at the fighting again- no more getting hit in the head with heavenly steel?"
Vaggie: "I'll do some more sparring with Carmine. No more heavenly steel headshots."
Charlie: "You promise?"
Vaggie: (smiling) "I promise."
-after the battle-
Charlie: "Mm. Hmm?" (pausing mid kiss) "I think one of your teeth are loose?" (glowering) "Vaggie. Did you get hit."
Vaggie: (groaning) "Table. Head slam. Lute."
Charlie: "Fuck that bitch."
Vaggie: "If you mean fuck her up, then yeah, I tried."
Charlie: "Heheh. I saw her afterwards. I'd say you did pretty good." (kiss again) "Dang it, yep- It's your upper right incisor." (pouts) "Boo. I liked that one a lot."
Vaggie: "If it falls out you can have it."
Charlie: "Really!?"
Vaggie: "If it falls out while we're kissing, please don't swallow it."
Charlie: "I guess we COULD just stop kissing for a sec to actually check on the whole loose tooth situation."
Chaggie: "....."
Vaggie: "Or, you could kiss-"
Charlie: "OR I COULD KISS IT BETTER!!!"
Chaggie: (smooching resumes)
#hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#vaggie#chaggie#incorrect quotes#silly nonsense#vaggie has nice little fangs#i think charlie would be very sad if lute knocked one out- even just temporarily#not her gf's cute little fangs...
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nuts. (m) | knj
title: nuts. (m)
pairing: knj x reader(f)
rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; neighbors au , age-gap au (reader is 25, namjoon is 30); grad student au
summary: Your future is clear. Pass the LSAT. Go to SNU law school. Become a prosecutor, and be successful. At least, that’s what your mother wants. But when you fail the LSAT, you have to come to terms with the fact that your mother’s wishes might not line up with your own. Out sulking in the rain after an explosive argument, help comes in the form of your sex-crazed neighbor, Kim Namjoon - the very man who’s constant moaning and fucking from next door is the reason why you became so distracted from studying!
And since it’s his fault things have resulted this way, it’s only fair that he take responsibility, right?
note: heavily inspired by the first 4 chapter of the korean webtoon "where the heart is" - 가족이 되어주라 , with minor dialogue and event changes
note 2: this is pretty unedited lmao.... so if there are mistakes i'm so sorry.
warnings: language, reader is stressed, best friend! taehyung, dialogue heavy, namjoon is cold, very much rpwp joon, joon is half naked a lot, dilf joon, slight angst, a little too relatable to a mid life crisis, a little bit of drinking, kinda rough s*x, CONSENSUAL protected s*x, cunn*lingus, finger*ng, attempted blowj*b, b*ckshots, joon is too smooth, RIDING, n*pple play, french kissing, did i mention this is her FIRST TIME, yeah and first kiss, namjoon is vague about his living situation?
drop date: May 28th, 2023, 1:00pm pst
word count: 6.9k
crossposted on ao3 here
—
“Remember, you’re the one that asked me to show you.” Namjoon’s voice is a low, steady rumble, his breath hot against your ear as he pins you down on his bed, his strong hands gripping your wrists.
If you could, you’d give anything to return to that moment. And you really mean anything.
On that extremely rainy day, when your neighbor approached you, trudging through the downpour.
That unforgettable day was the first time you had sex.
╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚
You pace around your bedroom, frustration bubbling up inside you. The muffled moaning, thumping and groaning coming from the other side of your wall are impossible to ignore. You’re so done! You try to distract yourself, playing some lofi beats softly in the background but no, the noise is relentless, making it hard to focus on anything else.
How are you going to manage to pass your exam to get into law school if all you can hear is the fucking from next door? You need to get into law school and if you don’t, your mom is going to kill you.
With a huff, you throw yourself onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in exasperation. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you unlock it and open the KakaoTalk app. You scroll through your contacts until you find Kim Taehyung, your best friend. If there's anyone who can offer some comfort or at least a distraction, it's him.
You begin typing furiously, your thumbs flying over the keyboard as you pour out your endless complaints and rants.
But all of a sudden, there’s a quietness. Huh? What’s going on? Why did the sounds suddenly stop?
You get up and lean your head against the wall, hearing a murmuring from people on the other side. You try to make out the words.
Turn… Around…?
Wait. Turn Around?! Your face flushes in embarrassment from hearing these words and thinking about the implications of them.
The ding of a new text from Taehyung yanks you out of the depths of your mind and you yell, dropping your phone on your bed.
A few seconds later, your mom opens the door to your bedroom. “Y/N, I brought you some snacks...”
“Mom!” You yell this time, startled by her sudden appearance and taking a deep breathe. “You… scared me.”
“Why are you so jumpy? Don’t tell me you’re looking at something weird again.” She scowls at you.
You grab your phone, faking a phone call with Taehyung. “H-Hey, you don’t have to yell into the phone like that. You startled me Tae!” You can't have her getting suspicious or hearing the sounds from next door.
Her scowl deepens. “You were reading those gay japanese comics again, weren’t you?”
“No, of course not, I was talking to Taehyung..!” you whisper urgently, hoping to divert her attention.
That was one time! Months ago, might you add! You should’ve never left your phone face up while you went to pick up your package from the front door.
She doesn’t seem convinced by your excuse and sighs in exasperation.
You get up, head toward the front door of your apartment and slip on your slides. “Mom, I’m gonna step out for a bit and talk to Tae on the phone.”
“Be back in 30 minutes then,” she responds, her tone softening slightly.
You close the door behind you, leaning against it with a sigh of relief. That was close. If your mom ever found out you were eavesdropping on what the guy next door was doing, you'd never hear the end of it. You look at your phone again and check Taehyung's text.
You sigh, walking over to lean against the railing on the veranda, overlooking the city from the 4th floor.
The summer sun is bright and the heat is strong as it hits your skin. It’s been a while since you’ve had such a nice day. You’ve mostly been stuck inside studying. But despite not many people out and about, it’s so noisy. It’s all these cicadas.. And if you’re being completely honest, the noises from next door are nowhere near as loud as these damn cicadas. Your neighbors’ sounds are so faint that you have to press your head against the wall and yet, you’re the one who can’t stop eavesdropping on what’s happening next door.
You look at your phone again as you hear another text notification. You appreciate Tae trying to lighten up the situation, but you don’t want him to make too much of a fuss over it.
You begin to type a response: Nah, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll try to ignore the moaning…
Before your finger hits send, It's in this moment that you hear a creak from a door opening behind you. You instinctively turn to view the source of the sound.
And there he is.
It’s your neighbor, pulling up an unlit cigarette to his lips as he walks to stand against the veranda railing for a smoke break. He wears gray shorts, his short-sleeved black shirt unbuttoned, with a full display of his upper body, abs and all. Wait, his abs? Chest? Oh my god, he’s basically naked.
He looks exactly like one of those dilf or daddy dom characters you read about in manga. Strong, commanding, and ridiculously hot. These men really do exist…
“Huh?” you end up saying out loud, which makes him look at you in confusion.
Fuck fuck fuck. What’s wrong with you? Eyeing your neighbor like this!?
In a panic from being caught checking him out, you suddenly lean too far against the railing and feel yourself slowly falling off. Huh?!
You try to grab relentlessly at the air for some sort of hold as a last resort, but it’s useless.
Is this really it!?
You brace yourself, heart racing, but before you can comprehend what’s happening, a strong arm grabs you, pulling you back to safety. You find yourself pressed against someone’s chest, a strong male hand still gripping your arm firmly.
Holy fuck that scared you half to death!!
When you turn your head, you see that it is your neighbor who saved you. What? How did he—? Before you can conjure up more questions, your eyes slowly look down and you are against his check. Holy shit… you never realized how broad he is.
“Hey. You can move now,” he says, his voice deep and unamused.
You nod, your face flushing with embarrassment as you quickly step back, putting some distance between the two of you.
“O-Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to… um, fall.” Goddamn it, get it together, Y/N. “Thanks… you pretty much saved my life.”
As you fully take a good look at him, you realize you had no idea he was hiding this hot ass body under those baggy t-shirts you always see him wear. But holy shit, he’s ripped.
He may be some sex fiend, but no wonder he’s been getting all that action.
You don’t realize you are still staring at him, frozen in your spot. But before he can say something, you hear another voice approaching.
“Hyung, when are you coming back inside?”
A shorter male with a smaller build and blonde hair appears, his casual demeanor catching you off guard. Huh? A guy?
“I’m just going to take a shower,” the guy continues, and this is when you notice he’s also shirtless.
What?!
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll head back inside after this smoke. Go on in,” your neighbor says nonchalantly, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to you.
No way… does he sleep with men too?
Before you can unravel the tangled web of questions in your mind, your phone starts ringing. You check to see the caller ID is Taehyung.
"Hel–”
“Hey! Y/N! Why aren’t you texting back?!” Taehyung interrupts, his voice loud and concerned. “Don’t tell me you went over to your neighbor’s place by yourself!”
Fuck, not right now! “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about… Sh-Shut up…” You whisper aggressively, pleading to God that he gets the idea that you cannot be talking about this right now!
“You’re the one that told me he’s a sleazy fuck boy that has sex with a different person every day!” Taehyung, oblivious to your situation, yells out.
Did you mention you were on speaker? … oh.
Oh, fuck.
Without missing a beat and looking back, you hurriedly retreat inside your apartment. Despite not seeing his reaction, you could very well feel his eyes on you. Fuck…this is so embarrassing. Initially, it was just the sounds, and now this? This summer just got a whole lot more complicated.
╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚
After that day, you felt like you were in some kind of spy movie with the way you kept trying to avoid ever seeing the guy next door again. Every time you had to go outside, it was a mission of stealth and timing. Is he out there? Or is he not? You’ve tried to calculate and observe the times you’d hear him leave.
However, four days after the incident, as you walk out the door of your apartment, you find yourself face-to-face with him.
Shit.
There’s a long, awkward silence as you stare at each other before you finally break it.
“Uh, hello.”
No response. He slides a cigarette from the box and places it in his mouth, lighting it up and ignoring you as he looks out at the city, leaning against the railing. He’s on another smoke break, you say to yourself.
The way he can’t even casually say “hello” back to you just once? Be serious!
You groan, turn around, and decide to head to your old college library to get some more studying done before the LSAT in four days.
As you walk away, you catch a glimpse of him giving you a side glance before puffing out a cloud of smoke and sighing.
––––––––––––––––––––
On the day you got your LSAT results, the rain was so heavy that it felt like the raindrops could pierce through the walls of your rickety old apartment building.
The day when everything happened in a flash.
Coming home. Having to tell your mom you failed the LSAT. Having to tell her that you won’t be able to get into law school just yet.
“Y/N, you graduated with honors from Seoul National University. There’s no need to be so disappointed just because you didn’t pass your law school exam.” She pleads, squeezing your hands. “You know I’m not asking for too much from you. All I want is for you to graduate from your university’s law school and become a prosecutor. That’s all I hope for, really.”
This is pissing you off. She thinks that this is supposed to comfort you when it’s only adding to the pressure.
“That’s all you hope for…?” you spat, words laced with bitterness, “You’re the one putting these burdens on me because you couldn’t be the one to do this.”
“What…?”
Does she not get it? This was never your dream to begin with. All these years of studying, being the top student, going to the best university in the country, striving to get to law school… it wasn’t what you wanted to do at all. This was something your mom wanted for herself, but she couldn’t do because she got with your dad, gave it up and had you.
“You want me to live the life you would’ve had… for the rest of my life? I never asked for that!” You yell out, tears falling, frustration taking over.
You haphazardly put on your slide and leave out the front door with a slam, not giving your mother a moment to respond. However, she doesn’t chase after you. She stands there, stunned, only looking at the food and broken pieces of glass and plates that scatter your bedroom floor from the fight.
As if anything could make this worse, when you stand outside, you see your terrible and hot neighbor on a smoke break on the veranda. He turns when he hears your door automatically open and lock, then looks at you.
Dammit… He’s the last person you wanted to see you like this. You wipe your tears with your forearm, hoping that it’s not obvious that you’ve reached one of the lowest points in your whole life at the ripe age of 25.
This is so fucking embarrassing.
“Hey, your face—” He begins, but you immediately scurry away down the stairs, out of the apartment complex.
╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚
You run. And run.
Running as far as your legs and your cheap worn-out slides could take you.
As exhaustion overcomes you, you stop and glance around. Oh, you’re at a park down the street? You take a deep breath for the first time realizing you don’t know what you’re even trying to achieve. Ha…this is so stupid.
You sigh, taking cover under a slide in the playground, shivering as you hug your knees. After the adrenaline rush goes away, your body is now noticing that you’re cold. It’s no wonder since you’re drenched in the rain. You realize your eyes are probably puffy too from the outburst earlier. Things are starting to come back to you.
As you sit there continuing to watch the rain pitter patter against the playground and the sand, you hear footsteps approaching you. When you look up, you see that it’s him.
Your sex fiend hot ass neighbor, holding an umbrella.
Your tear ducts start flowing tears once again.
“Y-You startled me…” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand. “What’re you just standing there for? If you came here to mock me, then go ahead and laugh all you want.”
He looks down, seeing your clothes completely soaked. He notices that your white t-shirt has become transparent, letting him see your nipples perking out.
Goddamit, he thinks, looking away.
“Here.” He places the umbrella next to you, now covering you from the downpour and walks away.
“Ah..” Your hand reaches out to his figure as he slowly moves further from you. Something about him calls out to you. You don’t know what, and you can’t explain it. Maybe you should follow him back home for now.
And you do.
You make it back to the apartment and up the stairs to the floor where the both of you live. As he unlocks his door and enters, you call out to him before the door can close.
“Hey, wait…”
Maybe you should go in and just give back his umbrella.
Nah, you shouldn’t go into a stranger’s house.
“Close the door if you’re not going to come in.” He calls to you from the inside.
And so, the door clunks shut, and now you’re inside.
This is incredibly awkward.
“To be honest, I didn’t think you were coming in,” he says, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he wipes his wet hair with a small towel. Droplets of rainwater cling to his skin, accentuating the contours of his jawline and the muscles in his arms. “Guess you changed your mind.”
“Well... I still had your umbrella, and... I can’t exactly go home right now,” you say carefully, fidgeting with your hands before crossing your arms under your breasts. His eyes flicker down for a moment, lingering on your figure before meeting yours again.
“Could you lend me a towel, please?” you ask, shivering involuntarily as a chill runs down your spine.
He looks away, his expression unreadable, before sighing and handing you the towel he was just using. The fabric is warm from his body heat, and a faint scent of his cologne lingers on it. “Just use this to wipe yourself off.”
Uh, why would he give me the one he was just using? And what’s with the sigh?
“I don’t care if the floor gets wet, so you can go sit in the living room,” he suggests before walking into the bathroom, his figure disappearing behind the door. The sound of running water fills the air, mingling with the steady rhythm of the rain outside.
“Alrighty then…”
For the first time since entering his home, you take a moment to observe your surroundings. It’s a pretty ordinary looking small apartment...
No, it’s not. His kitchen table is riddled with bottles of soju and books lying around, their pages curled and yellowed with age. There’s laundry that has gotten stiff on the drying rack from who knows how long it has been there, giving the room a slightly musty smell.
You shouldn’t be so judgmental. It’s not like you live here anyway.
A better observation you note are the several paintings hanging up on the wall. Some look like contemporary Korean art pieces that you recognize from reading art books you enjoy during your free time. One is Sung Yeon-Woong’s “Korean People - I Love You,” 2022. The monochrome colors and bold strokes of the people embracing each other in the nude captivate your attention, momentarily drawing you in.
You’ve always liked art and wanted to pursue it, but those dreams were locked away when…
The illusion of being at an art museum fades, and you’re suddenly reminded of where you are when you feel your wet underwear sticking to you. It feels gross and icky, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin.
You plop onto his living room floor, which you realize is also a makeshift gym area when you spot dumbbells of various weights beside you. The metal gleams dully under the soft glow of the overhead lights, a testament to their frequent use.
Your hand moves against something and you notice a card on the floor. When you grab it, you realize what it is. His student ID card from Seoul National University?!
He went to the College of Engineering? Or does he still go?
Woah? You’re from different departments, but it’s the same school. What the fuck…
You had absolutely no idea.
This is also the first moment you find out what his name is:
Kim Namjoon.Bachelor’s DegreeCollege of EngineeringChemical Engineering
Chemical engineering? He doesn’t look like one.
Also why would he just leave his student ID lying around like this?
“Go and take a shower. I can’t have you catching a cold in my house,” Namjoon requests, coming out of the bathroom, his hair still damp from the shower. You slide his ID card back on the floor pretending you didn’t see anything. “Here, change into these clothes after.”
“Oh, okay–” Your words are cut short when he throws a gray t-shirt and shorts on top of your head.
You can’t tell if he’s being nice or a complete jerk.
When you walk into the bathroom and close the door, you finally notice in the mirror that you’re not wearing a bra.
“AHHHHHHH!” You scream internally over your stupidity and lack of rationality. How could you be this careless? How could you forget that you weren’t wearing a bra!
Hold up, did Namjoon notice and not say a thing?! Oh god…
This guy isn’t nice or a jerk.
He’s a straight up sex machine. A fucking sex fiend pervert.
You can’t believe you just willingly stepped into a minefield. But wait! You can get out of here without any trouble so long as you keep your head straight.
Or not… you don’t have anywhere else to go. You don’t want to burden Tae with your shit.
Sigh. Just be cautious Y/N and avoid eye contact as much as possible. You’ll get through this!
After your shower and change of clothes, you walk out of the bathroom and see him on his futon bed sipping his beer and watching a variety show on his laptop. You plop down next to him, trying to pretend all is normal, but it’s not.
Shit, this is still awkward. How can you become less aware of the situation you’re in? You notice an unopened beer can on his table and crawl over to grab it. Oh! This can work. He’s not going to mind, right?
When you do that, Namjoon notices your exposed crotch in the loose shorts he gave you and begins choking on his beer. He can’t believe you didn’t put on your wet underwear again and are just walking around bare like that.
Huh? What’s up with him... you think, confused, but not surprised. You crack it open and take a few sips.
You know what, everything will be fine if you keep a clear head. Clear thoughts. Clear mind.
Yeah, you can do that.
╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚
She hasn't even finished her beer and already looks out of it, Namjoon thinks to himself, sighing.
He reaches over and takes the beer can from your hand. “Hey, you’ve had enough to drink,” he says firmly. “I’ll get you some blankets, so just lie—”
“Honestly... It’s partially your fault...” you interrupt, your voice slurring slightly as you crawl over to him, suddenly pushing him onto the bed. Your movements are unsteady, but you manage to straddle him, arms planted on either side of his head. “...that I flunked my exam.”
Namjoon is caught off guard by your sudden action, his eyes wide with surprise. He stares up at you, at a loss for words.
“What the hell are you talking about? What did I do?” Namjoon asks, his confusion evident.
“What are you on about? Why are you suddenly acting crazy.”
“Get off m—”
“Is it fun... to live the way you do?” you interrupt, your tone dripping with a mix of sass and bitterness.
“What?”
“If it’s that exciting... then can you show me how to live like you?” Your hands move to his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his shirt.
“What exactly are you saying?” Namjoon grabs your right arm, but you swat it away.
“Well, you seem so carefree, and all you ever do is sleep with different people every day.” You scoff, your frustration bubbling over.
Namjoon chuckles, a humorless sound, as he grabs your wrists and effortlessly flips you over, pinning you beneath him. Now, you’re the one looking up at him from the bed, stunned and embarrassed, and suddenly sobered up.
“I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours, but what makes you think you can say that when you don’t know anything about me?” His words are laced with annoyance. “And just to be clear, I have no reason to sit here and listen to you judge me, no matter what I do. If you’re so unhappy with your life, then do whatever you want. No one’s forcing you to live that way.”
You tremble slightly, anger and humiliation mixing as you look away. “You don’t know anything!”
You smack his chest with your fists, but he doesn’t flinch. “Figures you wouldn’t understand since you do whatever the hell you want all the time!”
Namjoon sighs, clearly reaching the end of his patience. “Does this seem like the home of someone who’s content and living life on their own terms, to you?” He gestures around the room, his hands clenching the sheets beneath you.
You have nothing else to combat his question with, so you pout and look away. Namjoon’s not going to let you get what you want though, and grabs your jaw to turn you to face him again.
“Fine. If you really want to know, then I’ll show you.”
Keeping you pinned, Namjoon leans in, his lips inches from yours.
Your heart races, and you freeze in place. You’ve never kissed anyone before in your life. But before you can feel his mouth against yours, he notices you flinch and decides to pull back, creating distance between you once again.
“You know what? You should just leave.” He chuckles, feeling the ridiculousness of the situation he’s found himself in. “Haha.. What was I thinking? There’s no way I’m doing anything like that with someone like you.”
Before he has the chance to get off from straddling you, your hands grab at his shirt and push him forward.
“W-Why am I the one who has to live like this?” You start to hiccup, tears streaming down your face once again. Why are you being like this? How many times have you cried today?
“What’re you talking about? Let go.”
This only makes you pull him even closer. “And you!! Why did you stop?! Why? Man, woman, old, young! I know you’ll sleep with anyone... so why not me?”
“The hell are you talking about?! I told you to let go!” He grabs at your wrists, trying to remove their grasp on his shirt gently.
“You just… you just feel sorry for me… I know I may not be good enough. I might be a lousy daughter, not as conventionally attractive as other girls, and I’m painfully aware of my shortcomings just as a member of society… but still!”
“You’re driving me nuts here…”
“Fuck… it’s not like I want to live this way.” You cover your eyes with your forearm, sobbing.
“You’re fine as you are,” Namjoon says softly, the gentlest thing he’s said all day.
“What did you say?”
“I mean you’re good enough. In fact, you’re plenty good enough, okay? So stop crying and let go of my shirt, please.” He says, gently grabbing hold of your chin.
“Then... do you want to have sex with me as well?” Your face reddens, asking boldly.
Namjoon internally fights with himself, thinking about what he’s even supposed to do with you.
“Yeah, I do. Just not today,” he answers.
You turn your head to the side. “Liar. You don’t want to have sex with me.”
“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” he tells you honestly, looking into your eyes.
You glare at him, and for the hundredth time today, he sighs.
“Okay, fine, fine. Let’s do it,” he declares.
“Wait..Really...?”
He looks at you, seeing your innocent expression. “You better not come crying to me afterward.”
Namjoon takes his shirt off, revealing his whole upper body in full view. His skin glistens slightly in the dim light, each muscle defined and firm.
“I’m saying this because it seems like you’re completely misunderstanding the situation, but I’ve already told you ‘no’ like a hundred times.”
You look at him, dazed, mesmerized by his pecs and defined abdominal muscles.
As he nears closer to you, you think he’s actually going to kiss you this time, until he moves down, licking your collarbones. His hand squeezes your breasts
And I held back at least ten times, he thinks inwardly.
His right hand lifts the t-shirt, your breast coming into full view, jiggling from the action.
You’re the one that kept provoking me, so this is partly on you.
“Mmph..ah..” You moan out, and quickly cover your mouth.
“What’re you doing?”
“Well, they can hear me moan next door…” You say, muffled.
Namjoon looks at you as if you’re insane, “Your voice won’t carry through these walls that easily unless you let out a scream.”
“Oh..”
“Be honest. You were eavesdropping by pressing your ear to the wall, weren’t you?” He begins questioning.
Fuck.
He continues, “Unless there’s another pervert like you living in this building, then you don’t have to worry. No one will hear a thing.”
Oh. This changes everything, actually.
Namjoon suddenly turns you over, removing your shorts and pulling your ass up. “Y-You didn’t have to do that so suddenly! Or you could’ve at least turned the lights off..”
Namjoon stares blankly at your naked figure, then slowly rustles his hands in his shorts to put on an unopened condom he had lying.
“W-What are you doing?”
Is this what you think it is? I’ve only seen them in comics…
What… holy shit..
“W-Wait!” You move away towards the wall.
“What now?” Namjoon groans, but then you leaned back up and start observing the large cock that he just pulled out from his shorts.
Are they normally this big? But then again, you remember reading and watching hentai where the bottom characters struggle to take in a large penis…
“Do you want to suck me off?” He looks down at you, overshadowing you as you appear small and curious.
Do I? Should I?
Your tongue peeps out and gives it one lick. Oh. Oh no. Oh god, that tasted gross. You start to cough and gag.
“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to gag like that when you’re giving someone a blowjob?”
“Then how do you expect me to react? The rubber tastes super weird! Have you tried liking one of these? Of course you haven’t!”
“It’s a condom, it’s supposed to taste like that. What, did you think it was going to taste like vanilla?”
“So you DO know what it tastes like…”
“Why would I? You know what? Forget it, what would I expect from you?” He leans forward and pushes you down on the bed again. He lifts your legs up in the air and settles in between them.
“W-What’re you doing?!”
“What do you think? You keep getting distracted. I’m helping you concentrate” He spreads you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.
“Ah.. no! Wait! This is way too embarrassing..”
He pays no attention and continues at his task.
He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer.
“Ah!” You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to suck and lick into you even deeper.
“I kinda figured you weren’t all that into this because you kept going on about stuff like how the condom tastes and feeling embarrassed. But you’re getting so wet I guess you are a little turned on…”
“That’s enough,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue.
“Yeah. Since, both you and me… are getting impatient…” Namjoon’s fingers are instantly at your entrance, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. The sounds of squelching only turn you on even more. “We might as well cut to the chase.”
He takes out his fingers, now moving them to hold his length. “This, might hurt a little.”
You look at him puzzled before you gasp, feeling a sudden pressure from beneath you. “Huh!? W-Wait, it won’t go in! I said it won’t go in!” Your handle trembles, grabbing onto the bedsheets harshly.
“It already is.”
No way.
“Ah… wait, really? It’s all the way in…?”
It has to be all the way in. It’s feeling really tight right now and you can’t imagine how the whole thing can’t be inside. You glance down at your cunt, seeing the point where you and him connect. Oh.
“No. Not all the way in.” He scratches his head. “You can tell me anything if you’re feeling too tired or just wanna call it quits. And I’ll stop.”
Arrogant little…
“I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m totally fine! I can’t even feel you inside me…”
There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him suddenly start to thrust forward again, sliding his cock further into your drenched core. You let out a whimper.
Then, giving you no time to adjust to his whole size, he takes his cock out and quickly pulls you up and spreads you into doggy style, pinning your hands behind him. Without warning, he roughly thrusts into you, feeling yourself being split apart by his huge, thick cock.
“Ah! Ungh…F-Fuck!” You moan, tears beginning to prick from overstimulation. His hips thrust brutally against your own at a set rhythmic pace, pulling almost all the way out before ruthlessly drilling back into you, it would probably be more painful if it wasn’t for your dripping arousal creating your very own lube and his fat cock hitting the right spot with every thrust.
“I thought. You said. You were. Fine?” He thrusts repeatedly, with each word being punctuated by a thrust.
He comes to a slow stop and you don’t respond, your lips agape as you remain stuck in a euphoric daze from how good this pleasure feels. You’ve never done this before. You’ve only read it in literature, watch it from hentai… but holy shit, does the real thing not compare.
“You’re making so much noise, I bet the whole neighborhood knows we’re going at it.” Namjoon whispers in your ear with a teasing tone.
Fuck!? You immediately cover your mouth and turn to face him, which makes Namjoon chuckle at your cute behavior, grabbing your hand. “No one’s actually gonna hear us with the rain pounding like this”, he thinks internally.
Namjoon takes this opportunity to switch positions and place you on top of him. You sit there with your legs on either side. Glancing down, you notice that his cock is still hard and it rubs against your clit, making you more and more impatient for him to keep on fucking you.
He moves you forward a bit and raises your hips so he can line your entrance with his tip. For Namjoon, he needed to see you come undone. He deserved it after all the nonsense you kept scolding him about. And there’s nothing more satisfying than the moan you let out when the tip is in. His cock stretches you out once again, filling you in all the right areas, making you pant and whine from the girth.
He grunts as you sink further down his cock. His hands grip your ass, pushing his cock in deeper and deeper before pulling back up, all in a rhythmic motion. The sheer tightness of his grip on your ass was sure to leave bruises tomorrow, but he was the last person to care.
You gasp when he lifts you up, almost pulling out with only his tip still inside, before bringing you down and slamming back into your cunt. A loud moan exits your lips and you throw your head back from the static of pleasure that shoots through your body. You grip his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself, your manicured nails dug into his skin and leave long scratches.
“Ah!!” You scream as the squelching and thumps get louder, making your pussy tighten around him even more. “Ungh, ah! W-Wait! I feel strange–!”
What is this feeling?! Is it what you think it is...
It’s only with one more thrust hitting your cervix that leads you to your answer.
“F-Fuck…daddy!” As if on cue, the knot that had been building in your stomach pops, and your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your cunt clenches around his cock and your mouth flies open in a silent scream, thick and clear cum gushing on his cock.
Namjoon is surprsied by you using the word ‘daddy’, but continues at his ministrations, licking against your chest now and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as you shake amid your orgasm. You continue your strong hold on his shoulders.
“Agh… I want you to stop squeezing so tightly.” He slowly holds you up and removes his dick from inside you. He removes his condom and discards it in the nearby bin.
“Huh? What did you say…? You want me to what?” You’re completely out of it, your mind fogged by the sex, and perhaps some remnants of alcohol. “Kiss you?”
“Huh? No, that’s not what I—” Namjoon starts to protest, but before he can finish, you gently grab his chin and press your lips against his.
The kiss catches him off guard. Your lips are soft and hesitant, trembling slightly. Namjoon’s initial shock gives way to a moment of stillness, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. For a brief second, he almost kisses you back, but then he pulls away, his hands firmly but gently pushing you back.
“Holy shit, that was my first kiss…” you murmur, panic setting in. “I can’t believe it’s with some older guy like you!”
Namjoon sighs, exhaling sharply. “You’re not even trying to hide it, huh?” He gently grabs your cheeks, squishing them with his hand. “I figured as much, so I was trying to be considerate. And then you went and kissed me first.”
“If that’s what you were thinking, then you should’ve just told—”
“Too late for that,” he interrupts, taking his turn to kiss you. This time, he doesn’t hold back, shoving his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is intense and demanding, catching you completely off guard.
Your mind blanks out, every thought drowned by the sensation of his lips and tongue moving against yours. His hands move to the back of your head, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. You can’t help but moan softly into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his mouth.
Namjoon’s kiss is forceful, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to prove a point. You can feel the frustration and desire in every movement, in the way his hands grip your hair, in the way his tongue explores your mouth with a fervent urgency. You try to keep up, but your inexperience makes it hard, and you end up just following his lead, letting him control the kiss.
When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing heavily. His eyes are dark, filled with a mix of emotions you can’t quite decipher.
“There,” he says, his voice rough. “Now you know. Your first kiss isn’t something to take lightly. Understand?”
You nod, still trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. The room feels like it’s spinning, and you’re starting to feel more sleepy as the seconds pass.
Namjoon sighs again, softer this time, and releases your cheeks, his fingers trailing down to your neck. “Just… think things through before you act next time, alright?”
You nod again, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. This wasn’t how you imagined your first kiss, but something about it feels right, even if you can’t fully understand why.
He leans back, giving you some space, and you both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentler now, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.
“Yeah,” you whisper, still trying to process everything. “I think so.”
“Good,” he says, leaning back against the headboard. “We can talk more in the morning. For now, just get some rest.”
You nod, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over you. Despite everything, you feel safe with him, and that’s enough for now. As you lie down beside him, the exhaustion of the day finally catches up with you, and you drift off to sleep, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips.
╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚
“I… uh, I’ll wash these clothes and return them to you later,” you say to Namjoon as he walks you to his door. The hallway outside his apartment is dimly lit, casting long shadows that dance across the walls.
“...Don’t. You can keep them or, better yet, throw them away.” His voice is calm, yet firm, as if he’s making a point.
“Um, okay. If you say so. Then I guess I’ll do whatever I want with them. Thanks for letting me stay over. And I’m sorry for saying and assuming things about you.” You glance up at him, feeling the weight of your earlier accusations hang between you.
“The assumptions you made about me being a sex fiend when it was just me inviting my friends over for a gym workout?” He arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“What?!” Your eyes widen in shock. Holy shit… were those groans actually grunts from them heavy-lifting those dumbbells and workout gear in the living room? It can’t be. It had to have been something else, right? “Are you being serious?!”
Namjoon chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that makes your cheeks burn. “I’ll see you around, girl next door.” You groan at him shooing you away.
“It’s Y/N...”
“Alright, Y/N,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing glint.
You realize he still hasn’t told you his name, but you already know it.
You nod awkwardly and step back, your mind still reeling from his revelation. As you turn to leave, you hear the door click shut behind you. The rain has stopped, and the cool morning air feels refreshing against your flushed skin. You stand there for a moment, processing everything that’s happened.
How the fuck can you go back to your regular life after that?
Even Namjoon must think it’s insane that he just got tangled up with his younger neighbor.
You’ve both completely gone nuts.
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a/n: ahhhhh the fic made it out of my brain! wow. i had read this webtoon last week right before rpwp came out and i thought how the male character was lowkey namjoon coded. and then when i heard nuts... oh you know i just had to cook this up! though i would like to add that the webtoon i based this off of goes in a completely different direction with different several plot elements added, and it's still ongoing, so this was just inspo from the first 4 chapters. thank you all for the support and for reading!
➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out one of my current ongoing fic series "love u lately"
#bts#bts fic#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon#namjoon smut#namjoon fic#smut#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts smut#fanfic#fanfiction#kpop
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i was sitting next to this guy while hanging out with some friends, and he was always a little flirty, and i never responded to it but i've stayed friendly ya know? this time he put his hand on my thigh, and i just kind of brushed him off and moved away and everything was fine. Now tho, everyone around me is acting like this is a huge deal and he shouldn't have done it and like,,, i get it, but also he wasn't aggressive and he backed off right away so i don't think it was a big deal at all 1/3
now tho my friends want me or themselves to confront him about it and i'm just so ??? because genuinely it was such a small thing to me and it feels like people around me want me to make it into a big deal for themselves more than to stand up for me since i don't think this needs to become A Thing at all, especially for a dude i've met twice and will probably rarely ever see in my life. idk how to get them to back off because it feels like they're not listening to me or don't believe me 2/3
but to put it in perspective i've been more uncomfortable in the past with men putting their hands on my shoulder/arm when trying to pass by in a crowded space than this guy trying to flirt and backing off the second i moved away. any advice on getting my friends to chill? 3/3
hi anon,
this is an interesting one. do you think your friends would recognize the irony if you pointed out that it sounds like they're being far more pushy and dismissive of your boundaries than the man who they want you to stage a confrontation with?
it's noble of your friends to want to look out for you, of course, but supporting people who we perceive as the recipients of inappropriate behavior means listening to them when they express what they actually need to feel supported. in your case, it's letting the entire thing go because this barely even registers as an issue.
I have to say that I'm incredibly inclined to agree with you here; while this lad may have been a bit forward in putting his hand on you, it sounds like his reaction - dropping it and backing off - was exactly what you were hoping for. human interactions are always going to have messy little edges where we bump up against each other and the signals don't quite line up; that's not a crime. what matters is how people react when they're given a No. by your account, this lad took it like a champ, understanding your no and backing off accordingly.
if that's good enough for you then I think it's really overbearing and, as you alluded to, a little self-serving of your friends to keep trying to pursue this and lambast a guy for a completely reasonable interaction. what exactly are they hoping to accomplish? do they want him to make an elaborate written apology to you, a thing that you've made very clear you don't want? do they want him to promise never to touch someone without explicit verbal permission again, a fairly ludicrous amount of control to demand over someone else's behavior? like. what is the end goal, gamers? what are we actually trying to accomplish? are some of your friends perhaps reacting to this based on their own past experiences? that's understandable, of course, but inappropriate when they're ignoring your own expressed desires in favor of their ideas about what they think you should want.
listen: you can't control your friends' thoughts, but you can ask them to shut the fuck up. if you haven't already, I would recommend sending out some kind of mass statement (there's a groupchat, right? this feels like a groupchat situation, which I say as a terminal group chatter) telling everyone that you, personally, are done talking about this and don't want to hear any more about it, and if anyone wants to confront thigh guy about it then they're at liberty to do that but they'd better make very clear that they're not doing so at your request or with your permission.
if you're feeling extra cunty you can top that off with a little "please respect that, since you all say you're so worried about my boundaries" but that may be a little much.
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✨ His only exception - Pt. 29/? ✨
Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, fluff, soft Ben
Word Count: 5774
A/N: This is part 29 of “His only exception”.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
As the realization of your pregnancy settled in over the past three weeks, you found yourself grappling with a mix of emotions, from excitement to uncertainty. While Ben was mostly occupied with work, you spent much of your time in his office, seeking comfort in his presence.
Despite his busy schedule, Ben made sure you were never alone for too long. Whether it was a quick check-in during a break or a shared meal together, he made a concerted effort to be there for you every step of the way.
His unwavering support and presence provided a sense of stability amidst the whirlwind of emotions you were experiencing. And as you navigated the ups and downs of pregnancy, you found solace in knowing that Ben was by your side, ready to support you through it all.
As Ben sat in his office eating his pizza, he noticed your discontent as you crossed your arms and shot him a pointed look. Sensing your frustration, he paused mid-bite and furrowed his brow in concern.
“Why’s that fucking attitude?”, he rolled his eyes.
You let out a frustrated hiss, your words tinged with irritation. “Are you afraid of me getting fat or something?”, you snapped, gesturing towards the plate of grilled veggies he had ordered for you. “Why the hell did you order me this rabbit food?”.
Ben swallowed his bite of pizza before pouting at the plate of grilled veggies. “It’s good for the baby”, he mumbled, trying to defend his choice while maintaining a teasing tone.
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “Oh, so now you’re the expert on prenatal nutrition?”, you retorted, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him back.
Ben chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Hey, I’ve been doing my research”, he quipped, wagging a finger at you. “Besides, a little green never hurt anyone”.
As you rolled your eyes at Ben, you continued eating your veggies. However, your moment of levity was interrupted as Butcher barged into the office without knocking, his usual brash demeanor on full display.
Ben let out an irritated hiss, shooting Butcher a pointed look. "How about you fucking knock next time?", he snapped, his annoyance evident in his tone.
Butcher, never one to back down from a confrontation, shot back with his own brand of sass. "Relax, pretty boy", he retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Just thought you'd want to know there's a situation downstairs. Figured you might want to actually do your job for once".
The tension in the room escalated as Ben clenched his jaw, his frustration with Butcher's attitude simmering just beneath the surface.
Ben's irritation flared as he shot back at Butcher. "What if you walked in here like that and saw me fucking (y/n) over the damn table?", he retorted.
Butcher smirked, unfazed by Ben's outburst. "Hell, I'd pay good money to see (y/n) like that", he quipped, his tone smug as he leaned against the doorway.
You couldn't help but choke on your water at Butcher's words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and indignation wash over you.
Ben's temper flared at Butcher's comment, his fists clenching at his sides as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Watch your fucking mouth, Butcher", he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Butcher scoffed, his smirk widening as he pushed off the doorway and sauntered further into the room. "Oh, what's the matter? Getting jealous so easily?".
As Ben stood up, his anger boiling over, you sensed the tension in the room and quickly got up too, stepping between Ben and Butcher in an attempt to defuse the situation.
Before the confrontation could escalate further, Frenchie burst into the office, his nose bleeding and his expression frantic.
"What the hell happened?", Ben demanded, his tone shifting.
Frenchie winced, holding a tissue to his nose to stem the bleeding. "It's the supe downstairs", he muttered, his voice muffled by the tissue. "He's vandalizing like crazy, demanding to speak to Soldier Boy".
Ben let out a frustrated groan at the news, his irritation evident as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Stay here", he ordered you firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument as he turned to follow Butcher and Frenchie downstairs.
You nodded, watching as Ben, Butcher, and Frenchie disappeared from the office. Alone now in Ben's office, munching on his pizza and anxiously awaiting his return, a knock on the door startled you. Raising an eyebrow, you set aside the half-eaten slice of pizza and made your way to the door.
Opening the door, you were surprised to find your doctor standing there, a concerned expression on his face.
"Dr. Smith, what are you doing here?", you asked, puzzled by his unexpected visit.
The doctor looked at you with a gentle smile, though his expression was serious. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping we could discuss something about your pregnancy", he said, his tone indicating that it was something important.
As you invited Dr. Smith in and settled onto the couch with him, a sense of apprehension settled over you. His serious demeanor only added to your growing concern.
"Sure, what do you need to discuss?", you inquired, trying to mask your anxiety.
The doctor wasted no time getting to the point. "I'd like to ask about your symptoms at the moment", he said, his voice gentle but probing. "Are you still experiencing vomiting, dizziness, weakness, and low blood pressure?".
You nodded, feeling a knot form in the pit of your stomach as you recounted your ongoing struggles with pregnancy-related symptoms. It was disheartening to admit that little had changed since your last visit, and you couldn't help but worry about what it might mean for you and the baby.
The doctor's expression softened with concern as he listened to your description of your ongoing symptoms. "I'm worried that your body may be struggling to support the pregnancy", he admitted gently, his tone compassionate yet grave. "With your current symptoms, there's a risk that your body could be in a weakened state, which may affect the baby's development".
He paused, choosing his words carefully before continuing. "It's still very early in the pregnancy, and while it's not uncommon for women to experience discomfort, your symptoms seem to be more severe than usual. As the baby continues to grow, your body will undergo even more changes, which could exacerbate your symptoms".
You felt a pang of fear grip your heart at his words, the weight of the situation sinking in. It was a sobering reminder of the challenges you faced ahead, and you couldn't help but worry about the well-being of your unborn child.
The doctor sighed softly, his expression reflecting the gravity of the situation. "I want to be transparent with you", he began, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "My team and I have been experimenting with Compound V, trying to create a formula that could potentially boost your body's ability to support the pregnancy, especially with the added complexity of a supe baby".
He paused, searching your face for any sign of understanding or apprehension before continuing. "But I must emphasize that it's not a simple process. Compound V is powerful, and its effects can be unpredictable. We're still in the early stages of development, and there are risks involved".
As you nodded slowly, the weight of his words settling heavily upon you, the doctor's expression softened with sympathy. "Have your symptoms gotten worse since your last appointment three days ago?", he asked gently.
You nodded slowly, acknowledging the doctor's question. "They've gotten a bit worse", you admitted, your voice tinged with resignation. "But I'm still able to manage. It's not unbearable, just… uncomfortable".
The doctor listened intently, his brow furrowed as he processed your response. "I understand", he replied, his tone sympathetic. "But it's important to monitor these changes closely. Pregnancy can be unpredictable, especially with the added factor of Compound V".
He paused, his expression thoughtful as he considered his next words. "I'll need to run some tests to assess the situation more thoroughly", he continued, his voice firm yet compassionate. "In the meantime, I recommend taking it easy and avoiding any unnecessary stress or exertion".
You nodded in understanding, gratitude evident in your expression as you thanked the doctor for his care and concern.
"Thank you, Dr. Smith", you said sincerely, your voice filled with appreciation.
The doctor offered you a reassuring smile, his eyes kind as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's my pleasure", he replied warmly. "We'll do everything we can to ensure both you and the baby stay healthy and safe".
With a sense of reassurance, you bid the doctor farewell.
As the doctor left, you sank back into the couch, feeling a mix of emotions wash over you. Placing a hand on your belly, which was still nearly flat save for a tiny little bump, you couldn't help but marvel at the subtle changes taking place within you. It was almost as if you had simply indulged in one too many meals, rather than carrying a precious life inside you.
Gently tracing your fingers over the small bump, you couldn't help but feel a surge of love and protectiveness towards the tiny being growing within you. Despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, you were determined to do everything in your power to ensure their health and well-being.
With a soft sigh, you leaned back against the couch, your mind swirling with thoughts and emotions.
Lost in your thoughts, you felt the familiar wave of dizziness wash over you once again, causing you to close your eyes and take deep breaths in an effort to steady yourself. Despite your best efforts to remain calm, your breathing became more labored, each inhale and exhale feeling like a struggle against the overwhelming sensation of lightheadedness.
As the dizziness intensified, you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach, a sense of unease gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. You tried to push aside the feeling of panic that threatened to overwhelm you, focusing instead on regulating your breathing.
But as the seconds ticked by, the dizziness showed no signs of abating, leaving you feeling increasingly vulnerable and out of control. With a shaky exhale, you braced yourself against the couch, willing the sensation to pass as you fought to regain your composure.
It took several long, agonizing minutes, but eventually, the wave of dizziness began to subside, leaving you feeling drained and exhausted. Slowly opening your eyes, you took a deep breath and reached for your water bottle.
Taking a long sip of water, you closed your eyes once more. With each swallow, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, the rhythm of your breath gradually returning to normal as you focused on the simple act of hydrating yourself.
After what felt like an eternity, Ben finally returned to his office, only to find you fast asleep on his couch, your hand resting gently on your little belly. The sight of you, so peaceful and serene amidst the chaos of the day, brought a soft smile to his lips.
He couldn’t help but notice the lone slice of pizza left on the plate, evidence of your earlier hunger. Chuckling softly to himself, he gently picked up the plate and set it aside, not wanting to disturb your slumber.
With a tender touch, Ben brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek as he watched over you with a mixture of adoration and concern. However, as his hand moved, he noticed the dried blood staining his fingers, a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded downstairs.
His gaze flickered to his supe suit, still stained with the remnants of the altercation.
As Ben gently caressed your face, lost in his thoughts, the sudden intrusion of Annie storming into his office caught him off guard. His hand froze mid-motion, his gaze snapping up to meet hers with a mixture of surprise and frustration.
Before he could say anything, Annie's voice cut through the air like a knife, her words sharp with accusation. "Was it really damn necessary to kill that dude?", she demanded, her tone laced with anger and disbelief.
The sound of her voice jolted you awake, and you blinked groggily, trying to make sense of the situation. But Ben's expression darkened at the interruption, his jaw clenched tightly as he struggled to contain his mounting anger.
With a sharp exhale, he straightened himself, his gaze icy as he met Annie's defiant stare. "You have no fucking right to barge in here like that", he growled, his voice low and menacing. "And you sure as hell have no fucking right to question my decisions".
As you slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, your gaze fell upon the dried blood staining Ben's hands and clothes. Concern flickered in your eyes as you took in the sight, a knot of worry forming in the pit of your stomach.
Before you could voice your concerns, Ben's spoke up. "You fucking woke her up", he snapped at Annie, his tone biting with irritation. Though Annie didn't intend to disturb your rest, her presence had clearly riled him up.
Annie recoiled slightly at Ben's outburst, her own frustration evident in the set of her jaw. "I didn't mean to", she muttered defensively, though her tone still carried a hint of resentment.
Ben’s frustration seemed to simmer just below the surface as he muttered under his breath, his words tinged with exasperation. “It’s like dealing with a bunch of fucking retarded rugrats with this sorry excuse of a team”, he grumbled, his tone tinged with annoyance as he rubbed a hand over his jaw.
As Ben's patience wore thin within seconds, he stepped towards Annie, his expression darkening with anger. Without hesitation, he grabbed her by the throat, his grip firm as he pushed her against the wall.
"Listen here", he snapped, his voice low and dangerous as he locked eyes with her. "I've had it with your attitude and your constant interference. You think you can just waltz in here and question my every move? You're out of fucking line woman".
Annie's eyes widened slightly as she struggled against his grip, her breath coming in short gasps. Despite the fear in her eyes, there was a glimmer of defiance as she met his gaze, refusing to back down in the face of his aggression.
The tension in the room crackled with intensity as the two of them stood locked in a silent battle of wills, their confrontation escalating with each passing moment.
Your voice pierced through the tense atmosphere, sharp with urgency and authority as you screamed Ben's name, demanding him to stop. In that moment, the weight of your words cut through the chaos, reminding him of the one person he had always listened to: you.
"Ben, stop!", you cried out, your voice echoing in the room as you moved towards them, your heart pounding in your chest. "This isn't the way to handle things. Let her go".
Ben's grip on Annie's throat loosened slightly as he turned to face you, his expression torn between anger and concern. For a brief moment, the intensity of his gaze softened as he met your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the power you held over him.
With a heavy sigh, he released his hold on Annie, stepping back as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
Annie's voice was laced with venom as she muttered under her breath, "Fucking asshole", before she turned and stormed out of the room, her anger palpable in the air.
Ben rolled his eyes at her retreating figure, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. But as he grabbed the last slice of pizza and nodded towards the door, his expression softened slightly, a silent invitation for you to join him.
With a nod, you followed him out of the office, relieved that the tension had finally dissipated. You knew Ben was stressed, more than ever.
At home, Ben gently guided you into the bathroom, his hands resting reassuringly on your shoulders. "Come on", he murmured softly, his voice gentle as he led you towards the bathtub. "I think the two of us could use a nice little bath".
Ben helped you undress, his touch warm and comforting against your skin, before he washed his face and hands at the sink, getting rid of the dry blood. You watched your reflection in the large mirror, taking in the subtle changes in your body with a mix of awe and trepidation.
"Checking yourself out, huh?", Ben teased lightly, a playful glint in his eyes as he caught your gaze in the mirror. "Can't blame you, though. You're looking pretty fucking hot, if I do say so myself".
You couldn't help but chuckle at his remark, the tension of the day slowly melting away in the warmth of the bathroom.
Turning towards Ben, you met his gaze in the mirror, a hint of uncertainty in your eyes. “Do you see anything?”, you asked softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hope and apprehension.
You gestured towards your belly, your hand resting gently against the slight curve that had begun to form.
As Ben watched you, his eyes flickered briefly to your hand resting on your belly before wandering up to your chest. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he let out a low chuckle, his gaze lingering on your breasts.
"Well, I see something alright", he replied, his voice husky with desire. "But I don't think it's what you're asking about".
You rolled your eyes playfully at his comment. Despite his teasing, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at the way he looked at you, his desire palpable in the air between you.
Stepping towards you, Ben closed the distance between you, his hands reaching out to pull you close. With a gentle yet firm embrace, he drew you against him, his warmth enveloping you.
Dipping his head down, he captured your lips in a tender kiss, his touch both gentle and passionate. As his lips moved against yours, you felt a surge of desire coursing through you, the heat of his kiss igniting a fire within.
As the warm water surrounded you both in the bathtub, you found yourself back against Ben's chest, his strong arms wrapped around you protectively. His palms rested gently on your small belly, his touch tender and reassuring.
With your head nestled against his chest, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.
“I can see that little bump”, he murmured, his tone filled with tenderness as his fingers traced delicate patterns over your belly. Each touch was gentle, as if he were afraid of breaking something precious.
You smiled at his words, a sense of warmth flooding your heart at the reassurance in his voice. “Yeah?” you whispered in response, your voice filled with quiet contentment. “I guess it’s really happening, huh?”.
While you couldn't shake the echo of the doctor's words from your mind, the subtle worry lingering at the edges of your thoughts. However, you chose to keep them to yourself, not wanting to burden Ben with any additional concerns.
In response to your whispered affirmation, Ben's touch grew even more tender, his fingers continuing to trace soothing patterns over your belly. "Yeah", he admitted softly, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I've been trying to inform myself about… well, about some stuff regarding pregnancies".
His admission caught you by surprise, and you turned to look up at him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. Despite his tough exterior, it was moments like these that reminded you of the depth of his care and concern for you and your growing family.
Feeling his arms wrap around your smaller frame, you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at the protective embrace. "You did?", you asked, a hint of surprise coloring your voice as you looked up at him.
Ben couldn't suppress a grumpy yet playful grunt, his lips curving into a teasing smirk. "Yeah, yeah, don't act so shocked", he teased. "I've been doing my homework, you know".
As Ben traced lazy circles on your back, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. "You know", you began, your voice soft as you looked up at him, "you're actually managing this whole relationship thing pretty well so far".
Ben chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes as he mocked you lovingly. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence", he teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'll be sure to add it to my resume". Despite his jesting tone, there was a genuine warmth in his expression as he looked down at you.
You chuckled softly, turning slowly onto your chest so you could face him completely, sitting up slightly in the warm water. Ben raised a brow, his gaze wandering over your figure with a mixture of appreciation and desire.
"What a sight", he mumbled huskily, his eyes lingering on your wet breasts before meeting your gaze with a mischievous glint.
With your palms resting against his chest, you could feel the warmth of his body beneath your touch, and you were acutely aware of his growing arousal pressing against your ass. A playful grin danced across your lips as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin.
"Someone seems eager", you teased, your voice low and husky as you trailed your fingers lightly over his chest. "Aren't you supposed to be relaxed?".
Ben let out a low chuckle, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. “Relaxed?”, he echoed, his voice laced with amusement. “I was relaxed until someone decided to turn up the heat in here”.
You grinned, pressing yourself against him, feeling the tension between you both grow with each passing moment. “Oh, so it’s my fault now, huh?”, you teased, trailing your fingers teasingly along his chest. “I didn’t realize I had such an effect on you”.
Ben's lips curved into a playful smirk as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Oh, trust me, sweetheart", he murmured, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "You have no idea the effect you have on me. But I'm sure you could find out".
You laughed softly, the sound echoing in the intimate space between you. "Is that a challenge, Soldier boy?", you teased, tilting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Because I never back down from a challenge".
As Ben lifted you by your butt, his touch both firm and gentle, he positioned you so that his throbbing member lined up perfectly with your eager entrance. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he teased, “Are you ready for the challenge then, sweetheart?”.
As you took his length from his hand into yours, a grin playing on your lips, you carefully and slowly lowered your hips, feeling the delicious sensation of him filling you inch by inch. A soft whimper escaped your lips as the pleasure mixed with a hint of pain, the exquisite sensation overwhelming your senses.
Ben's jaw clenched as he watched you, his own desire mirrored in his darkened gaze. Every time he slid into you, every inch of his length enveloped by your warmth, his heart skipped a beat. The intensity of the moment, the sheer pleasure of being connected with you in such an intimate way, sent a surge of desire coursing through him, igniting a primal need that only you could satisfy.
As the intensity of the moment surged between you, Ben couldn't deny the profound effect you had on him. Every kiss, every touch, every thrust felt heightened, as if amplified by the depth of his feelings for you. It was a sensation he had never experienced with anyone else before.
Deep down, Ben knew that you had him hooked in a way he had never imagined. Despite his reluctance to admit it, you had captured his heart in a way that no one else ever had.
Ben's hands dropped from your waist to your hips. He guided your movements, his touch firm as you surrendered to his lead. His gaze remained fixated on your body, his eyes tracing every curve and contour.
While your eyes were closed in ecstasy, and the sweet sound of your moans filled the air, Ben fought to maintain control, his own pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn't help but remember the intense pain you experienced the last time you were intimate, and he was determined to ensure your comfort and pleasure this time around.
"Does it feel good, sweetheart?", he murmured as he sought reassurance that he was giving you the pleasure you deserved.
Your breath caught in your throat as Ben hit all your sweet spots from his angle, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It was almost impossible to form coherent words as you were swept away by the intensity of sensation.
"Y-yes", you managed to gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice barely a whisper as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. "Oh fuck, yes".
As Ben's hand brushed up your body, cupping one of your tits and tugging on your nipple, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, causing you to clench around his throbbing dick, amplifying the intensity of the moment.
With a husky voice, Ben leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You like that, baby? You like when I play with your tits while I fuck you?".
As Ben's dirty talk washed over you, igniting a fiery desire within you, you couldn't help but respond to his deep voice and the tantalizing sensation of his lips against your ear. A shiver ran down your spine, and your nipples hardened further as arousal coursed through your veins, heightening every sensation.
"I want to make you feel so good, baby", Ben murmured huskily, his voice dripping with desire as he trailed kisses along your neck. "I want to hear you scream my name, feel you come apart in my arms".
With a primal growl, Ben sat up, adjusting his position to hit a different angle that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your loud moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of skin against skin as your nails dug into his back, urging him on.
"Keep going, sweetheart", Ben urged, his voice husky with desire as he felt your legs growing weak beneath you. "You're doing so good. Just a little bit more".
You met his thrusts with every roll of your hips.
"You're so close, baby. I can feel it", he murmured, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he guided you in rhythm with his movements.
As the intensity peaked, both of you reached the pinnacle together. Ben's lips pressed against your shoulder to muffle his deep moan as he released into you, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.
Feeling the light dizziness wash over you, you instinctively clung onto Ben, seeking his sturdy presence to steady yourself. Without hesitation, Ben tightened his grip around your small waist, ensuring that your wet bodies remained securely intertwined, unwilling to let you slip from his embrace.
"You´re okay?", Ben's voice was soft against the crook of your neck as he held you close.
"I think so", you mumbled softly, your breath still somewhat labored as you slowly caught your breath, feeling the rush of sensation slowly ebbing away.
As Ben helped you out of the bathtub and handed you a towel, you quickly wrapped it around yourself, feeling the warmth and softness enveloping your body. Watching him stride towards the bedroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you couldn't help but admire the way the muscles in his back moved beneath his skin.
As Ben slipped into some boxershorts, he couldn't resist a playful tease, even though his back was facing you. "I can feel those eyes on me, you know", he remarked with a chuckle, his tone light and teasing as he turned to shoot you a playful wink.
Your cheeks started to flush a bright red, while you stood in the doorframe, clutching your towel tightly against your breasts. Ben couldn't help but notice your reaction, and he couldn't resist coming close again, cupping your face gently in his hands.
"Will you ever stop blushing at me?", he murmured softly, a tender smile playing at the corners of his lips as he looked into your eyes.
He dipped his head down, his lips soft against yours. A sense of belonging washed over you. In that moment, you knew you were his, and no one else could ever kiss you, touch you, or love you the way he did. Despite the challenges of his life as a supe, his temper and everything else and your own vulnerabilities as a human, you had chosen to love him.
As Ben pulled slowly away from the kiss, he heard the persistent ringing of his phone. Rolling his eyes with a sigh, he stepped towards the desk where his phone lay and answered the call from A-Train, already bracing himself for whatever urgent matter the speedster had to discuss.
Meanwhile, you took the opportunity to get dressed, discarding your towel and selecting your clothes from the wardrobe. Despite the interruption, a smile lingered on your lips, grateful for the tender moment you had shared with Ben moments ago.
As Ben watched you dress, his gaze lingered on the bruises that adorned nearly every inch of your body. Each mark was a testament to the intensity of your encounters, the passion that often led him to lose himself in the moment or underestimate his own strength.
A pang of guilt tugged at his heart as he took in the sight, a reminder of the fine line he walked between pleasure and pain, between desire and restraint.
While Ben continued his conversation with A-Train, he approached you and gently took the panties from your hand, silently signaling for you to pause your dressing. His touch was tender as he guided you to turn around, his eyes scanning your back and ass, both adorned with bruises in various colors.
A sense of unease washed over him as he took in the sight, the marks serving as a stark reminder of the physical toll your passionate encounters often took on your delicate body.
As Ben met your gaze, a heavy sigh escaped his lips, his expression a mix of concern and guilt. You looked at him with a hint of confusion, having grown accustomed to the sight of your body adorned with bruises over time. While you were used to it, Ben's reaction made it clear that he was just now fully realizing the extent of the bruises covering your skin.
Despite seeing you naked countless times before, in that moment, it seemed as though the reality of your condition had finally hit him.
As Ben hung up the phone, his grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but he didn't release it entirely. With a frustrated sigh, he tossed his phone onto the bed before turning his gaze back to your body, his eyes scanning once more over the bruises.
You noticed the intensity of his gaze and the troubled expression on his face, prompting you to inquire, "What's wrong, Ben?".
He met your eyes, his expression conflicted as he struggled to find the right words. "I… I didn't realize…", he began, his voice trailing off as he gestured towards the bruises covering your body. "I didn't realize it was this bad".
“What?”, you questioned, furrowing your brow in confusion before following his gesture, your eyes landing on the bruises scattered across your skin. “Oh…”, you mumbled softly as realization dawned.
Ben’s jaw clenched, his frustration evident as he inwardly scolded himself for not being more mindful of his own strength during your intimate moments.
You brushed off the bruises with a dismissive wave of your hand, trying to downplay their significance, but Ben wasn't having it. His expression hardened with resolve as he gently took your hand in his, his gaze intense as he met your eyes.
"No, (Y/N)", he said firmly, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "This isn't okay. I shouldn't have let it get to this point. I need to be more careful with you, especially now".
As you looked down at your belly, a flicker of concern crossed your features. "The baby is fine", you reassured, though your voice held a note of uncertainty.
Ben's expression softened as he reached out to gently cup your cheek. "I know", he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "But what if I hurt the baby without even realizing it? Or you worse?".
You gently cupped Ben's face, looking up at him with reassurance in your eyes. "Ben, you won't hurt the baby", you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. "I trust you, and I know you'll be careful".
Despite your words of reassurance, Ben couldn't shake the fear that gnawed at the edges of his mind. He was afraid, a feeling he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge. Yet, even in the face of his fear, he couldn't bring himself to admit it. Instead, he forced a small nod, his jaw set with determination as he silently resolved to do everything in his power to protect you and the baby.
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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn
#jensen ackles#soldier boy#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x y/n#the boys#smut#billy butcher#soldier boy x you#soldier boy fanfiction
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high enough
PAIRINGS: Vampire!Bill x Female reader
CONTENT: Smut
SYNOPSIS: Bill is a little addicted to you.
WARNINGS: mention of addiction, mention of blood and bite, manipulation, fingering, oral (f receiving)
You met Bill by chance, after another day of work you were coming home and literally bumped into him. Staggering and somewhat disoriented, he didn't know where he was.
Against all your thoughts of self-preservation you took him home and took care of him.
When Bill told you he was a vampire, you thought he was crazy and when he showed you what he was you strangely remained calm. Somehow you felt like he wouldn't hurt you. And he never did.
All the blood he had from you was given to him willingly. You wanted to help him and so you did.
And it was by wanting to help him that you ended up in this situation.
"What do you want?" Bill asked impatiently.
"What I want?" You repeated, looking at yourself in the mirror. "Nothing. I'm happy."
He let out a frustrated groan before taking a deep breath. You watched him straighten up, though the action was considerably less intimidating. His bleached blonde hair was disheveled and tangled with a light sweat on his forehead.
"Damn it." You observed. “you’re worse than an addicted.”
“Brilliant deduction! Do you want a fucking medal?” You raised an eyebrow.
Bill slapped his face, rubbing his stubble tiredly.
“Can’t you just help me?” He was always ready to dramatize, you already knew his tactics. You turned to him.
“We have already had this discussion. No." You said firmly.
"I can give you-." He started to speak but you interrupted him before he could even continue his speech about how good he could be and give you expensive things that you never had. You've been through this before.
"Nothing." You interrupted, crossing your arms. “I don't want anything from you, Bill. I like my life. I like my boyfriend. I like my job. There is nothing I want from you that can change my mind. Plus, I’m pretty sure I can think of a handful of humans who would be more than willing…”
“I DON’T WANT ANY IDIOTS OFF THE STREET!” His jaw was tense. If he applied more force, you'd think he might break his molars. “I want your blood. Yours. Do I need to spell this out for you?”
He approached you, brown eyes glaring at you.
"Please." His voice was almost pleading.
Inhaling silently, you studied him with half-closed eyes.
A second later and you shook your head.
“There is nothing special about my blood. You're being needy because I was there for you when no one else was. It was my mistake. I won't let that happen again.”
Before he could lift a finger, your arm flew forward. Either he was too weak to fight back or he wasn't even trying. Whatever the reasoning, you were easily able to make him fall back into a chair.
He didn't seem surprised by the gesture, nor did he try to fight it.
“I’m going to meet my boyfriend.” You said approaching him. “When I come back, you will be gone.”
“Liebe.” He whispered with furrowed brows and doe eyes.
“Bill, stop. You're better than that." You paused, grimacing. “I'm serious, control yourself.”
His head fell back and despite your better judgment, you went to his side. The last thing you needed was a drugged-out vampire in your apartment.
The moment one of your hands wrapped around the back of his head, Bill grabbed your wrist.
The pressure was gentle but sticky. His reddish brown eyes tried to mask a poorly concealed despair. Both pupils were dilated.
"You know." He drawled, bringing the back of your hand to his cheek. "You're my favorite human."
“I’m not yours.” You corrected, unable to not find his attention somewhat amusing.
“Oh, but you are.” He snapped and you rolled your eyes, the stubble rubbing against the skin of your hand like sandpaper. “It means your blood is very special. You are my special human. I don’t want anyone’s blood but yours.”
He continued stroking your hand. You found it slightly disturbing and strangely adorable.
“Quick fix.” He whimpered softly, pulling your fingers up to his lips as he blinked rapidly. “Just a taste will be enough for me. I won’t bother you again after this.”
You let out a pained gasp, your thumb thoughtlessly brushing his upper lip. He responded by kissing the tip of your thumb.
“I won't do it again. This is the last time, okay?” You always said that and you both pretended to believe it. The truth is, you couldn't say no to him even if you tried.
"Sure." He agreed, releasing your hand. "Last time."
✮✮✮✮✮✮✮
“Oh, Jesus, not again.” You exclaimed impatiently.
This time, he was lying in your bed, with the sheets piled up beside him. Your comforter was thrown somewhere on the floor.
“Liebe.” He greeted you lazily. Despite knowing his name, he never used it. Always using some German word that you didn't know what it meant. “I'm glad you're here. Would you mind giving me some liquid?”
You shook your head in disbelief.
"Unless you want me to piss in your mouth, I suggest you get out of here." You responded sarcastically without patience.
“Piss in my mouth?” He repeated slowly. Without warning, he burst into laughter, fingers gripping the sheets in delight.
You made a mental note to change them after he left.
“I’m an eccentric bastard, but not that eccentric.” He said. “You said last time that you wouldn't donate again, but you don't understand. You don't understand the euphoria you give me. It’s… I imagine it’s magical.”
''I'm sure you can live without it.'' Spinning around, you quickly rid yourself of the shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair. You took a deep breath, arms reaching for the ceiling. The position was maintained until you felt the pleasant burning in your muscles.
"But I do not want." He says thoughtfully.
“That doesn’t surprise me.” You mumbled, taking off your jeans.
He didn't respond to your joke. Instead, he got up from the bed. Not that you heard or noticed it.
Until you felt the unexpected pressure of two warm hands resting on your hips.
“Bill.” You warned, looking at him over your shoulder.
"Hmm?" He hummed, shamelessly pressing into you.
“Get off me.” You whispered seriously hoping he would respect your request.
"I don't want." His grip tightened. You tried to ignore his hardened length digging teasingly against your ass.
“I heard a rumor that you’re not happy with your little toy.” He whispered in your ear huskily. You were so shocked by his boldness that you ignored how your skin crawled.
"You don't have ri-."
"It is not?" Bill asked with a raised eyebrow. “I keep tabs on my favorite human.”
You weren’t sure if he was serious or bluffing.
“So, you have romance, flowers, blah, blah, etc.” He listed, two fingers slipping under the band of your panties but not going any further. “But when it comes to being naughty, he falls a little… boring.”
A calloused hand brushed against your ribcage, nails grazing the skin experimentally. Involuntarily, your breathing became shallow.
“A little sexually frustrated, aren’t you?” He continued.
You were ready to lift a heel and tap his toes when, without warning, he grabbed one of your breasts, smirking when you shivered.
“I could do anything you wanted.” He suggested, brushing the outline of your hard nipple with his thumb. “I could be a good boy for you, if you want. I could easily spend hours paying attention to your pretty pussy, you know. I spent a beautiful day or two thinking about it.”
His breath sent a wave of goosebumps across your shoulder.
“Playing with your clit. Sucking it. Making you all nervous. Always giving. I don't have to worry about my own needs. I’ll put my tongue to good use, ma’am.”
Your hips moved forward as the two previously inactive fingers slid across the opening, not penetrating but brushing the sensitive wetness with tantalizing intent.
Protesting the action would have been counterproductive. Despite Bill's irritating nature of manipulating and being a general jerk, his words were leaving you embarrassingly wet.
And that was what was confusing you.
“You are a pathetic addicted.” You tried to sound angry, but your voice came out shaky.
You felt his shrug before he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“You are my conflicted and sexually frustrated supplier. I don’t think we need to point fingers” He said amused.
Biting your lip, you forced yourself not to think about the hand massaging your breast or the two fingers caressing your pussy.
It was a trickery. The word alone made an unpleasant feeling of guilt in your stomach. Your boyfriend was a nice guy. Better than you dated in a long time. He treated you with a respect that's hard to find these days.
So, the sex wasn't the best. Was it really worth throwing away months of a well-paced relationship just for a few seconds of mindless pleasure? Especially with Bill, of all people!
You may not be the best person in the world, but you tried to be good.
On the other hand, befriending him wasn't exactly a step in that direction.
“Mistress?” He was gone. There was no longer Bill in that tone.
You would have found his submission more comical if it hadn't worried you so much. And it intrigued you more than anything.
“I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” He insisted. “Our little secret. Fair deal, I guess. In fact, I'll give you a free sample.”
Unexpectedly, he removed both of his hands and moved away from you. The disappointment you felt at the loss of contact was not something you wanted to reflect on.
You saw him kneel before you, his eyes wide but focused. More focused than you usually witnessed when he craved your blood.
"Come here." He gestured.
When you stayed still, he snorted softly. With a few quick movements, he knelt so he was eye level with your hips.
You knew what he was about to do. This, perhaps, was the worst part. You knew and you felt…excited. Relieved, even. For the first time in months, you were about to receive as much as you gave. Appropriately.
It was selfish and terrible, but equally thrilling and exciting.
“Open your legs a little for me, baby.” You did as he said, teeth firmly gripping your bottom lip.
"My God, you've been a lecherous young lady, haven't you?" Bill smiled, hands steadying himself on your hips.
"Shut up." You mumbled, ignoring his embarrassment.
"Yes ma'am." His fingers hooked into the elastic and slowly slid your panties down. The entire time, his tongue was stuck between his teeth while his eyes never left your pussy.
You took off your panties, almost shaking with excitement when he threw them over his shoulder.
“Hmm.” He marveled, tilting his head. "I was right. Beautiful."
The compliment made you not only blush but also become slightly irritated. Were your priorities really that far off?
That depressing thought spurred your next action.
Quickly, a hand grabbed Bill's hair by the roots. With a push, you pulled back, ensuring his eyes locked with yours.
“If you want my blood, you work for it. Got it?" You didn't even realize you had a dominant streak until Bill's obedient nod made you smile. “If I don't reach my high, you certainly won't reach yours.”
"Yes ma'am." He responded obediently. No sign of sarcasm or mockery.
You looked at him for a second longer and let go of his hair. Bill wasted no time.
It didn't take more than five minutes for you to cum. Whether this was a result of not having pleasure for so long or Bill's genuine talent, you weren't sure.
What you could be sure of, when a hand found his hair again and kept his tongue and lips attached to your clit, was that you were entirely willing to make that bargain again.
✮✮✮✮✮✮✮
This arrangement lasted a solid month. Which surprised you. You thought the moral of exchanging blood for sexual acts would disgust you. At least enough to present a bigger argument the next time Bill showed up again. But that wasn't the case.
The next meeting was certainly a little awkward. You came home from your shift and found him sitting patiently on your bed. He didn't say anything. He just watched you as you tiredly took off your clothes. His submission was strange but attractive. It wasn't until you were blessed with a quiet Bill that you realized how much you appreciated him.
"How are you doing?"
It was strange, but you couldn't help but ask. Bill may have been an addicted and willing to do anything to get what you wanted, but he was still a living creature beneath that stupid desperation. Completely degrading him brought you no pleasure and wasn't something you felt completely comfortable doing.
“You won’t hurt me.” Bill complained. “I'm a big boy. Do your worst."
“Do you want a safe word?” Yet you asked.
“Unless you have plans to kill me, I really don’t see the point.” That was the last discussion about a safe word or words in general.
Bill came three times a week, sometimes four. Always when you were alone. His snark, thankfully, wasn’t present and he did everything you requested of him.
At first, you were careful about boundaries. The first week was spent mostly in your bed, with Bill buried between your thighs. He was surprisingly energetic, licking and sucking you like a hungry animal. His fingers were excited too, starting to pinch your clit and moving in and out of you at deliciously insane speeds.
No orgasms were faked, and if you were taking a while to cum, Bill worked with impressive voracity to ensure you reached your high.
That's what made you bolder.
In the second week, you ordered him to touch himself.
"What?" He asked confused.
"I want you to touch yourself." He studied you with half-closed eyes.
"You understand this isn't about my pleasure, right?"
"Yes. It's about mine. Drop your pants, sit on the chair and touch yourself.” Your voice didn't even tremble.
His confusion was evident, but he did as you asked.
As you guessed, watching him masturbate was a deeply satisfying sight. On some level, you wanted him to feel pleasure from this arrangement, but that had more to do with fascination. Fascination with being able to make someone bigger and stronger take off his underwear, sit down, spread his legs, wrap his hand around his generously sized cock and slowly start stroking himself. In front of you. Simply because you ordered it.
The control was intoxicating.
You didn’t ask him to do anything else after he climaxed with a strangled moan. And it was one of the first times you realized that Bill had no idea what your game was. Or at least why you were enjoying watching him cum.
The rest of the month followed roughly the same schedule. You would give him an order and after a brief but curious glance in his direction, Bill would obey.
Many of the commands required you to cum. At you request, Bill got into the habit of bringing a vibrator. Which he used on you very well.
Some days the commands were to get him out. You were creative and it was never the same way. True, he always touched himself, but sometimes it was kneeling on the bed or bending over a chair so you could admire his cute ass. Once, you even deprived him of his vision with a scarf, taking advantage of the slight uncertainty his hand felt when caressing himself.
By the four week, you were comfortable enough to ride his persistent tongue into pleasure without an ounce of shame or embarrassment.
On the days Bill didn't show up, you questioned what you were doing with him. In public and surrounded by friends, you were passive and sociable. On nights when the two of you were alone, you were loose and experiencing some serious dominance kink.
For a long time, you were puzzled and faintly appalled by your actions.
Then one night, it hit you.
When would you ever get that kind of sexual freedom again? That ability to explore what made your toes curl and grip the headboard until your mind went blank and your voice hoarse.
Nights with Bill made you feel liberated. They made you feel like a woman. The vampire never judged you, although in the end he received your blood, so that was his triumph.
Regardless, the ability to delve deeper into your sexuality and learn the new ways your body responded to stimulation was one of the biggest reasons you never withheld your blood from Bill.
If there was any guilt you held onto, it was because Bill did the things you asked for your blood, nothing more. It would have been nice if his actions were genuine. But he was an addicted, you reminded yourself.
This, when you looked back on the whole fiasco, was ultimately where you made an error in judgment. Assuming Bill regarded your meetings as nothing but a necessary task in order to gain the true source of pleasure: your blood.
In fact, you were completely unaware that after only two weeks together, he’d completely kicked his blood habit.
And that he was testing you.
It wasn’t until the month was complete that you found out why.
✮✮✮✮✮✮✮
He wasn't sitting on the bed this time.
Instead, he was standing tall and physically looked immaculate. Hair combed, beard trimmed and he looked at you differently.
The moment you absorbed all these changes, you felt a distinct shift in power.
It was definitely not in your hands anymore.
“You look healthy.” You greeted. “Who finally got to talk you out of it?”
A part of you couldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. You sessions would probably come to an end. And the Bill before you certainly didn't look like he was taking orders.
But you weren't selfish enough to deny feeling genuine happiness that he was no longer an addicted. No one deserved to be a victim of this desire. Of course, he will always have to live with the desire to drink blood, but now in a controlled way.
“That’d be you, darling.” He revealed. “Put plenty of things in perspective for me.”
"Good." You encouraged, offering him a soft smile.
He continued watching you without blinking.
“See yourself in the mirror lately?” He asked.
Immediately, a hand patted your hair.
“Did a bird shit on my head again?” You walked over to the mirror, fingers examining you head.
Bill appeared behind you and stopped your search by grabbing your wrist.
You looked at him.
“Skin doesn’t have the vibrant glow it normally has.” He whispered calmly.
Eyebrows furrowed, you looked at yourself in the mirror.
Wow. How did you miss that?
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered.” He continued. “Always giving me the amount of blood I ask for is not an easy task. Or a healthy one. But I can’t allow you to get hurt.”
You nodded absently. Your brain became more fuzzy at the consideration Bill was giving you.
"Why are you being nice?" You asked, looking at him warily.
“Like I said… I got a little perspective on things.” He replied.
“Do I need to be worried?” You asked apprehensively.
"Hardly. Not only have you fulfilled my needs, but you did so discretely. As an added bonus, you even made personal sacrifices. That right there... that's the way to a man's heart."
“I think you’re overestimating my worth.” You pulled your hand away. The conversation starting to make you uncomfortable.
“Honey, you’re underestimating yourself. Let me explain what happened last month to you. I was vulnerable, needy and weak. Instead of making a name for yourself - which I'm beginning to doubt even crossed your mind - and taking advantage of me, you quietly gave me my fix. With me so far?”
“Anyone would have done it.” You knew this was a lie the moment it passed your lips.
“Mm… I’m afraid not, liebe. I don’t find that kind of loyalty.” You weren’t sure if you should feel flattered or flustered.
“Now, this is where it gets interesting. After I got my addiction under control, I couldn't help but wonder why you were helping me. So selflessly, in fact.”
“I got off on telling you what to do.” You defended.
“No, I understand that part. But you started making small sacrifices.” Swallowing hard, you took a step back.
"Like what?" You asked confused.
"Well, like breaking up with your little toy, for example." Bill hummed in amusement.
“He didn’t deserve to be betrayed. It had nothing to do with you.” Bill smiled at that.
“If it weren't for my mouth on your pussy three times a week, you never would have let the poor guy go. I had a little input into that.” Something inside you twitched with discomfort and pleasure.
“So, as we saw, you neglected your appearance a little. You didn't even realize how much blood I was taking from you. And yet, you continued to give.” Taking a careful breath, you tried to get your thoughts in order.
"You deserved to get what came to me for." It seemed like a lame excuse, despite its veracity.
“And that’s the fun part!” Bill exclaimed. “This whole time you were under the impression that I hated it. I hated making you cum, I hated cumming while you watched, I hated the total attention you gave me. I'm not sure if you've heard, but I have a bit of an ego. And you caressed it until I was weak in the knees. You had so much control in your hands and had the courtesy to worry about my own pleasure. Not very mistressy of you, liebe.”
“If you were so confused about it, then why the hell didn’t you stop?” You retorted. “If you didn’t like me not playing my role, you should have stopped playing yours.”
“Ah, but I liked my role.” He assured, eyes slowly scanning your body. “In fact, if you knew how much I enjoyed it, you would be more worried about disappearing so I could never find you.”
"Are you-?" Your voice died in the middle of your throat.
“Ah, I left my favorite human speechless. Well, let’s see if I can remedy that.” Before you could blink everything went dark.
When you woke up you were in a huge room with incredibly expensive furniture. The place was well lit and looked very modern, you could see some paintings on the walls around it. The tables held a variety of food and drinks. Some, you noticed, were among your favorites.
Your mouth officially dropped open when you noticed it was king size and the sheets were brown. Also expensive, it seems. Above that, your eyes sharpened on the silk ties tied provocatively to the headboard. That was certainly a vision that spoke for itself.
“I will not be your mistress!” You argued, quickly getting up from the bed.
“I prefer the term girlfriend.” He didn't move from his seat once.
This gave you the confidence to try to escape. You ran towards the door but it was locked.
“Nice trick, isn’t it?” Bill mentioned, pride coloring his voice. “I blocked your exit, my dear.”
“Bill let me go.” With a tight frown, you stared at him.
“I will give you anything you want.” He promised. “In the meantime, you might consider this vacation a little more…permanent.”
“You are imprisoning me!” You screamed, anger burning through your veins.
"Keeping." He corrected. “I'm keeping you. Considerable difference in terminology.”
You tried to regain control of your breathing, but your current situation didn't allow for that.
“I like you, liebe.” Bill stated seriously. “You are charming, adventurous, and deceptively thoughtful. More than that, you are trustworthy. And has a sexual appetite that rivals mine.”
“And you couldn’t have told me that without kidnapping me?”
"Keeping." He remembered. “What would you honestly have done if I told you I was pretending to be an addicted because I was more addicted to you? Which sounds as terribly sentimental out loud as it does in my head. Shame. I thought it would translate better.”
You backed away until the backs of your knees hit the bed. Tremblingly, you sat up, palms hitting the sheets beneath you.
“I was kidnapped-.”
“-kept-,” Bill said helpfully.
“-all because I was…nice.”
Bill shrugged. "Opposites attract?"
You lost consciousness right after you finished laughing. Rest assured, you found the situation more grim than hilarious.
Sighing, Bill walked over to your unconscious form. He sat up and gently picked you up so you rested against his chest.
The urge to smile and grimace fought violently within him.
“This could have been worse.” He confessed, looking at you.
He rested his chin on your head. The desire to smile won. He was happy.
#bill kaulitz#tokio hotel#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz smut#tokio hotel smut#tom kaulitz#georg listing#gustav schäfer
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Thought for the day - I believe there are two types of boys in One Piece in their relationships with girls, let me explain.
There are those where, outsiders, would never say that the two of you are in a relationship. You walk steps apart, exchanging only the essentials of words between you. However, anyone who looked closely could see that many times, some favors were done just for you, that his eyes always seemed to follow you at every step, protecting you even from afar. It was the type of situation in which the person who dared to mess with you would barely know where the blow would come from. However, when the two of you are alone, prepare for a clingy pair. He loves to make up for all the moments away when it's just the two of you - he holds you in bed for a few more minutes, stealing several kisses before facing the reality of the day, he always offers to accompany you on your explorations, just so he can drag you to hidden places in the city and enjoy the time alone, he will love you (aka fuck) as if that were the last night he would have you in their bed, after all, the next day, you both would just be crewmates again.
Law, Zoro, Marco, Killer, Katakuri, Mihawk, Smoker, Rob Lucci
These people practically have your name tied to their existence. He don't exist without remembering your name immediately, accompanied by a smile, after all, anyone who saw - even if they didn't know you two - would know that you were made for each other - even if you are copies of each other's personality or are completely the opposite - you spark something in him that is sharp. They are super protective, yes, but they don't need to worry about following you far away, they know that no one would have enough balls to mess with his girl. Whenever they got into trouble, they immediately asked you for help after all you were one of the people he trusted most. With everyone already knowing about the two of you, he didn't need to make an effort to hide something, whether when he walked hand in hand with you, when he took the lead and asked who dared to interfere with their partner, or when they took advantage of any time free to love you (again, aka fuck) in a messy way, leaving marks and not sparing the noise. After all, everyone already knew that you belonged together.
Luffy, Crocodile, Ace, Kid, Sanji, Katakuri (he can be both versions, I'm sorry whoever disagrees), Franky, Shanks, Rayleigh, Buggy.
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a/n: I don't think anyone was missing, but if you have any suggestions, feel free to leave them here
#fiction#reader insert#one piece#no use of y/n#requests open#law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#zoro x reader#marco the phoenix x you#killer x reader#killer x you#katakuri x reader#mihawk x reader#smoker x reader#lucci x reader#luffy x you#luffy x reader#crocodile x reader#portgas ace x reader#ace x you#eustass kid x reader#eustass kid x you#sanji x reader#franky x reader#shanks x reader#rayleigh x reader#buggy x reader
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WIBTA if I asked my best friend to stop sharing his transition with me
[LSKDJFDJKFNLKDJFN keysmash so I can find later. Yeah it's me again] I know this sounds bad but please read the whole thing before you judge.
We're both trans men in our early 20s. We met online around 2021, and he realized he was trans and came out to me about a year or two later. I've known I'm trans since I was at least 16, probably earlier but that gets complicated. I've of course been supportive of him, I have no issue with him being trans in itself.
The problem has been arising because he's starting testosterone soon and I'm not currently able to. He has it so easy compared to me in general. Since we met, he's moved out with his partner, started working out, and now is even able to medically transition. Meanwhile, I'm stuck homeless in a motel room with my transphobic mother, trying to crawl out of a set of circumstances I was thrust into as a kid and piece my life together from almost nothing before I can even think of medical transition. I'm trying as hard as I can to be happy for him, I want him to be happy. But every time he brings up going on testosterone it fucking hurts. Like, I break down and start spiraling into self-harm habits in some sort of mix of jealousy and anger (at my circumstances & God, not my friend), I guess. I'm generally a jealous person toward all of my friends but I try my hardest not to make it their problems. It's not his fault I'm in the situation I'm in, I have no reason to take anything out on him. It just hurts so bad how much easier his life is than mine, in this specific way. None of the other aspects of his life make me break down this hard.
On the one hand, I don't want him to think I don't care, or am upset at him for this. It's obviously such a major, good thing for him, and it's not his fault I'm this jealous. He only brings it up like, once every few weeks, and I feel like I'm over-reacting. (I'm not gonna break up with him over this btw, if anyone suggests that I'm ignoring it)
On the other hand, it ruins my whole day when he brings it up. Like no matter how I try to think about it, I can't stand my life and I wish I could be in his place so goddamn bad and the reminders ruin me. It's not like I don't hide things from him either, if he knew the depths of my problems it'd ruin his day too.
BTW we're only online friends, he lives in a different state from me. This would probably be a bigger issue if we knew each other irl, I'm only able to hide how I feel because there's screens between us.
I just wanna know if I'd be an asshole if I told him to stop. Advice on how to deal with the jealousy would be rad too tho
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More Kevin/Allison?
okokok here's like. this. for you. it's not smutty but just lowkey horny. (a silly situation where they fuck around with the idea of being friends w benefits bc allison wants some on a night out)
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Kevin Day tasted like citrus and salt. A wedge of lime in between perfectly shaped teeth, a glossy sheen of warming alcohol coating the lips that his shot had just passed by; Kevin Day tasted like one too many, like a bad idea, like something she'd regret in the morning. Kevin Day tasted like the sharp bite of his favourite tequila mingling with honey flavoured lip balm that spread across his lips.
Allison didn't actually know it to be true; looking up at smiling green eyes that ordered another round for the two of them, eyes that looked back with a mischievous glint - the unsettling thought had found its way into her head like a silently burrowing animal. The taste of his lips should've held no weight at all in her mind, but there they stood, still sweaty after dancing, throats hoarse from the song they'd been yelling on the dancefloor. Waiting at the bar for their drinks, Kevin's upturned lips looked far more uncomfortably soft and enticing than they'd ever looked before.
Too many shots in, and she caught herself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him.
It wasn't that she'd never thought about fucking Kevin before, but a thought was a thought. It was an idea to be kept to herself, something never to be spoken out loud. Dan had jokingly mentioned it more than once, but Allison had shut it down quicker than it had come up. It hadn't been more than six months since he'd started to come out of his shell more often around all of them, no more than three or four months since they'd become each other's best friend under the influence. To think about Kevin's skin on hers was to think of something so reprehensible and disgusting that it felt like a sin. To think about his breath on her neck was to no longer think of him as Kevin Day. It was to picture him as something to find pleasure in, and that simply couldn't happen. Finally they tolerated each other as friends, enjoying their shared company more than they thought they would. Fucking him would only find a way to ruin that.
She'd dreamt about it once - He didn't seem to notice how she avoided him at practice for a week after that.
A thought was just a thought; an unserious idea, an insincere hypothetical, nothing more than that. Kevin Day was an asshole, first and foremost. He was Kevin, for crying out loud. It felt forbidden to even imagine him in any scenario other than on the court. That was his place, his life, his priority. Allison had only recently gotten the low-down on the girlfriend that wasn't really his girlfriend; even then he hadn't seen her for more than a day or two in almost two years. If he were messing around with anyone, it was very well-hidden. Allison couldn't quite picture him having a casual hook-up, let alone a serious relationship. Maybe it was because she'd only seen him for his one-track mind for so long: the only love he needed was exy, and he made that very clear.
But Kevin Day off the court was not the same as he that would be found with a racquet in his hands. Kevin off the court was fun, and comfortable, and far more like her than she cared to admit. They bounced off each other like a pair of childhood friends, and he made her laugh harder than anyone else ever had. They could stand across from each other on the court the day after, half hungover and straight faced, nothing remaining of the knocked back shots and songs sung the night before. Yet, they were a dream team on a night out, the life of the party, far too comfortable with each other. Kevin off the court had once seen Allison in her bra and laughed at the wonky bellybutton piercing she'd gotten at 16. He really was a breath of fresh air, sometimes, when he wasn't in Kevin Day mode.
Kevin off the court was relaxed. Kevin off the court was a little too easy to look at.
I'm due my period, she thought. Her hormones, of course, the only logical explanation as to why she was picturing Kevin's callused and strong hands around her waist, fingers trailing up her back, wet lips on skin, the smell of his cologne and-
"Are you even listening?" Allison blinked herself out of a daydream to look up at him. With one arm leaning on the bar as the barman served up another two golden shots, his smile was dopey with the perfect amount of alcohol. The lights in Eden's were dim enough that he couldn't see the heat that had risen to her cheeks as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been.
"I can't even hear you," A lie yelled over booming music to cover for the fact she really hadn't been listening at all. "Go again."
An inch or two more, he bent down to get closer to her. His breath was hot next to her ear, and she cursed herself for not hearing him the first time. She sucked her lip in, a stifled smile hurting her cheeks. What was she doing? What was she thinking?
"I asked if you're planning on staying late," He repeated himself. "I know Dan said that she's leaving in a little while, and I think Matt's going to get them a ride home. Are you going with them?"
When her first thought was to run her fingers up his bare arms and tell him what she really wanted to do for the evening, it was set in stone; she was a lost cause. Her mind has lost control of the vehicle. The heart that pounded in her chest couldn't be driving either. Her arousal had taken the wheel, and oh, it was driving her head-first, full-speed into a red brick wall.
Kevin handed over his bank card to the barman that served them, and returned his attention to their first-next bad decision. The shot glass slid across the damp wooden bar, and he gestured for Allison to put her hand out. She was mentally beating the thoughts out of her head, but tequila and a dull sensation in the pit of her stomach wouldn't let them go. Kevin held her hand gently in his as he poured the salt onto her hand before his own. The shot glass looked tiny tucked in-between his pointer finger and his thumb.
"No, I don't think so," Allison peeled her eyes away from his hands and held the glass the same way. "Unless you're thinking about going."
Kevin paused for just a second and hummed some sort of answer before bringing his hand up close to his lips. It wasn't lost on Allison how he kept his eyes on her, white salt licked up onto his tongue, burning alcohol hitting the back of his throat before he looked away to grab a lime. Perhaps it was coincidence that he licked his lips with a cheeky smile as his eyes found their way back to the fruit in between Allison's lips. His thumb wiped away juice that had dripped down her chin. She just tried not to think about putting it into her mouth.
"I'm not," He pouted, tucking his card back into his wallet, and looked in the direction of the table that they'd been sitting at. "I have nothing better to be doing than getting black-out drunk with you."
Allison lifted her foot up to rest it on the railing at the bottom of the bar. Kevin had outstretched the arm that rested on the surface next to them, and by Allison's shoulder, he was flipping a coaster between his fingers. The song changed, a perfect cue for them to move, but instead they stayed. Allison hated herself for it, but she would blame the alcohol in the morning; she rested her own arm next to his, and reached out to roll the edge of his short sleeved t-shirt in between her fingers.
"It's better than watching another one of Matt's stupid fucking movies," She tried to ignore the internal screaming, louder and louder as Kevin glanced down at his bicep, and slowly back up to her face. The slightest crease formed between his eyebrows, but he didn't pull away. Instead it was accompanied by a subtly growing grin. "I'll go crazy if I have to watch King Kong one more time."
Kevin laughed, and for just a moment, it felt like they were in some sort of alternate universe.
Kevin's had pressed his thumb to her skin, at the back of her elbow, a look in his eyes, words hiding behind his lips that she could read through his transparent skin. Perhaps she was thinking about herself instead - her cheeks flushed and hot with her fuck me eyes out of control.
Projecting onto him was easier than admitting she was prepared to blow him in the toilets if he wanted her to.
It was an impossible suggestion that shouldn't have been entertained at all. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many car crash scenarios that could be avoided by walking away right then and there. Her inhibitions were lost, and it didn't matter that it was a self serving desire and a really fucking terrible idea.
Instead she wondered what Kevin Day tasted like, with all logical thinking long throw out the window.
"What?" He asked, then, a knowing tone to his voice, his words wet with alcohol.
"Nothing," Allison pulled her eyes away from his face and down to the fabric in between her fingers. "What do you mean, what?"
Kevin opened his mouth, but closed it with a grin, and took his hand away from her arm to place it flat on the bar. Like she'd been shook out of a daze, Allison did the same, but the twisting of her stomach was an inconvenient and intrusive reminder of what she was really thinking about.
"What?" She pushed him instead, tilting her head to be better in his view, but he was quick to move himself and look away.
"Oh, don't do that," There was teasing to his words, as he threw his head back and tried to wipe the smile off his face. "What are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" She teased back, gazing at him through her false lashes, while his jaw flexed in frustrated acknowledgement that what she was doing was working. "What are you doing?"
Kevin looked down at her, with that fucking look in his eyes, that insufferable glimmer, that knowing shine. He tilted his head and inched himself closer to her. "Are you bored?"
"Bored?" Allison scoffed. "You're out of options, superstar. Take it or leave it."
Kevin nodded then, and slapped his palm on the bar, before replacing the gentlest, electrifying touch on the exposed skin of Allison’s arm. "See, that's what I thought you were doing, but I figured I was just going crazy. Because there's just no way you'd even consider it. Surely. But you are."
She rested her head in her hand, and bat her eyelashes up at him, only half in jest. "And you're not?"
"Oh, never." The pressure beneath his fingers told her the opposite. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. She'd never seen this look in his eyes before; playful but serious, looking her up and down like it was their first time meeting. "Never in a million years."
"Oh God," Allison hid her face in her hands. This couldn't be happening - even if she really, really wanted it to, in that moment. "I really hope you're talking about what I'm talking about. Oh, please tell me you are, so I don't have to smother you in your sleep and pretend this never happened."
"I don't mind," Kevin grinned, but looked up as if to make sure that nobody was watching. "If you're serious, I'd do it."
Salt, and tequila, and lime. Cologne, and sweat, and breath and- "I'll kill you if you're joking."
He laughed again, a hearty and charming sound, and rubbed a hand down his face. Fingers holding his chin he shrugged and shut his eyes. “Unless you’re joking, then no, I’m not.”
They looked at each other for a moment too long. Kevin lifted his foot to rest it on the railing next to her, their knees grazing off each other. He'd given her the perfect vantage point to look where she really wanted to look, but she worked against the spirits in her veins to keep her eyes on his.
"It doesn't have to mean anything," Kevin took the words right out of her mouth. "I actually really don't want it to. But if you're bored," She slapped his chest as he laughed his way through the rest of his words. He pushed a strand of her hair back behind her shoulder, running a finger down the side of her neck and teased, "And I'm bored..."
Around them, Allison’s giggle turned heads as she knocked on his chest, tucking her ear to her shoulder to push his hand away. Her search for an inkling in his demeanor that he was truly joking came up empty. Allison's thoughts were much less coherent than this, of course, less so 'I can’t believe I’m kind of agreeing to fuck Kevin and he’s kind of agreeing with me too', and more so 'tonight’s dick, tomorrow’s problem'. She was giddy at the whole situation, how drunk they both were, how she didn’t really care at all that it was Kevin on the other end of a pair of hands and working tongue.
A patron pushed the way in between them, asking if they were finished so they could order a drink, and Allison skipped backwards through the crowd before turning when she saw him stepping away from the bar. She only turned to look at him once, smirking as he followed her like a puppy on a leash. Oh, it felt powerful, in some ways, the two of them only starting the growth of their surprising friendship. Maybe it was inevitable, one of them single and the other kind-of-single, that they would find themselves in this position. All it took was one simple, lingering look, and one sentence loaded with insinuation and heat; Kevin was handsome putty in her hands.
Allison didn't stop until they'd turned a quiet corner, close to a staff-only entrance and a fire door, where Kevin reached out first to put a steady hand on her waist as she playfully pulled him in closer.
"Tell me this is a bad idea." Allison whispered while hooking a finger through one of the belt loops on the front of his jeans. The same hand hung loosely over his waist, in between their bodies, as his hips brushed against her stomach.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up when Kevin took his free hand and rested his fingers in her hair, a thumb just behind her ear. Kevin sighed, just a millisecond of hesitation before his easily read eyes said fuck it.
"This is a bad idea." He looked from her eyes to her lips as he mumbled, pausing inches away from her face. She knew he was waiting for her to change her mind, but they'd gotten this far - why waste it? "Oh, a really fucking bad one."
(Kevin Day tasted like citrus and salt. Kevin Day tasted like a freshly cut lime wedge and vodka that he'd been drinking earlier; Kevin Day tasted like one too many, like a bad idea, like something she'd regret in the morning.)
#psst she doesnt regret it#in fact#[redacted expletives re: what he does to her afterwards]#this is too description heavy#and not snappy enough#but ive commited to it and ill maybe rewrite a oneshot for my ao3#but thank u anon for indulgingme#allison reynolds#kevin day#kevallison#aftg#all for the game#not very good#but enjoy
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Hi, do you have any headcanons about Rick with RJ and Judith after TOWL?
sure! most of these are about the grimes family as a whole because michonne is the beating heart of the family yk!!
under a read more because apparently i had more to say than i realized (shocking). some of these are copied from previous posts!
antony azor who plays rj is apparently very shy and reserved but opened up unexpectedly with andrew lincoln and so obviously this is also exactly what happened with rick and rj. father and son bonded INSTANTLY
part of this is because rj (like antony) is very shy and reserved and rick gets that and so they can just be quiet together and still feel like they're bonding. as rj gets older, whenever he needs to think something through he asks rick if they can do some sort of project together, and through that he works through whatever he has going on.
his first night back, judith asks rick to finish reading the wizard of oz to her because he never got a chance to. it takes a good five minutes for him to compose himself but she does finally get the full story from her dad. michonne and rj join them because they both love hearing stories the most when rick is the one telling them.
I think rick definitely got back into farming post towl since that is his ~zen place. judith and rj have the idea to grow flowers for michonne, and the three of them plant her a small private garden as a surprise. they even build her a little bench to sit on and everything. after it's finished they have all their family picnics there :')
I think this is less my personal headcanon and more a collective fandom headcanon but rick DEFINITELY does call rj "junior" and he is the ONLY one allowed to do so. If anyone else tries they get the rick grimes head tilt and squint from both of them.
they as a whole family have all kinds of Secret Family Things (like the code names for security shoto/daito/brave man/little brave man). for example they have a family whistle that has different variants for different ~situations. it's kinda silly but they all get very into it and take it very seriously!
speaking of family rituals, family dinner is REALLY important to them!!! I'm always thinking about that one dinner scene in early season 9 where michonne, judith and rj are quietly/sadly sitting in that dark dining room with that empty chair where rick is supposed to be. NOW their kitchen is bright and loud and cheerful and they all cook together and use herbs and spices from their family garden :')))
during the week or so leading up to judith and rj's respective birthdays, Rick gives them each a gift for each year he missed. like an advent calendar of missed birthdays. Idk what he gets them exactly but rick king-of-gift-giving grimes would figure something out. michonne helps out a lot by filling him on the things they both enjoyed throughout their childhoods
(he does the same for michonne btw. a gift for every year he missed. they never cared about birthdays before but he's still making certain things up to her)
now that rick and michonne are back together they find it much easier to talk about all the people they lost. judith and rj's favorite stories are the ones about their brothers, carl and andre.
i love the idea of scene very similar to the one in towl 1x05 where richonne get mugged only to turn the situation around in .5 seconds only this time it's the whole family being badass and intimidating to a stranger who thought they could try it
as we know from towl, rick and michonne are fucking insane :') but eventually they realize judith and rj out-crazy both of them combined (much like carl did, rip king) and they are EXTREMELY proud :')
#richonne#grimes family#the ones who live#i know as soon as i hit post i'll have more to say but this is good for now i think#also reblog and add your headcanons PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE#oh re: that dinner scene from season 9 i mentioned. i honestly forget if there was a plot reason for them being sad in that scene#so my bad if i made some assumptions but i don't think it's a big leap personally!
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My statement on ACOTAR characters
(unedited; really just a brain dump)
I know I use a lot of pro and anti tags when it comes to ACOTAR, and while I do have characters I like more than others, I really just dislike them as a whole. I think the series is poorly written and SJM is the one I actually hate.
I honestly can't really criticize or defend any character properly, because the characters themselves are just deficiently made. They all come from the same dumbass author. The main thing keeping me in the fandom are the actual people in it, because they have actual thoughts that make sense, and I find discussing the topics presened entertaining. So I don't wanna hear any "Well if you hate the books so much stop talking about them" bs
I don't hate Rhysand, in fact I think he has a lot of cool moments. I like the idea of him not bowing to anyone but his own people, so he got a knee tat of Velaris (even if I think its dorky). I enjoy his outlook on what's right, and I did genuinely like him early on. But I think the way SJM writes his actions (especially political ones) and their justifications incredibly disjointed poorly thought out. I think he's wrongfully used and justified and digs people into a bad way of thinking ethically because SJM has made no move to do anything but portray him as a white knight. Had the narrative acknowledge some of the things he's done as actually bad, in fact that most of them have bad outcomes for some even if they benefit others, I'd have no issue with him. SHe just writes him doing heinous things for reason and then is like "Oh but he's traumatized so its okay!"
I don't dislike Feyre, but I think she's often shoved into a backseat role in her own series. I know this is a multi-pov story, but seriously? How the fuck did SJM make Feyre's pregnancy climax to nothing more than more Nesta hate??? Why was her experience and thoughts just completely missing in the plot that literally revolved around her?? I find her flaws charming, and yet they're often forgotten or used to justify things that shouldn't be justified. I don't have any issue with her beyond the SC disaster. But, I think the fact that there's Feyre antis in general speaks to how bad of a writer SJM is. You can't even make people agree on liking your main fucking character? In fact most Feyre antis are Pro Nestas... which is ridiculous. How poorly do you have to write for people to pit sisters against each other WHEN YOUR MAIN TROPE IS FOUND FAMILY. The way SJM uses Feyre pisses me off endlessly
I think Feysand has its moments, and I don't hate anything about them specifically - but rather how they're presented and treated by the narrative. I think they make sense together, and I prefer them to Feylin, but I hate how SJM and fans bend over backward to justify everything.
I'm not a Nesta stan, I just think the narrative (and especially SF) is an injustice to real world issues and the logic used against her makes no sense in reference to the other characters. SJM says she loves her so much, but shows her none. I find the way the fandom treats her lacking empathy, and SJM has done nothing to actually better her character. I think its ridiculous no one acknowledge that she grew up in the same fucking cottage as Feyre with the same parents. SJM constantly dredges up new shit to pit her and Feyre against each other instead of just letting them be happy. She treats Nesta like she's irredeemable, and when she does "redeem" herself its literally in service to the people who are forcing her to fix herself??? She's used as a point for juvenile drama and placed in a cycle of being antagonized with no outlet to place blame. See my full thoughts on her here
I don't actually despise the ic, I think they all are just wasted and thrown into whatever whirlwind situation gives SJM a boner. I think Morrigan had so much potential, but SJM decided it would be better to use her for petty drama and forwarding a ship. I don't hate her because she doesn't do anything for the woman in the CoN, because quite frankly I don't think SJM has thought that far. I don't think Cassian's the worst man alive, but I think SJM has a poor grasp on him and what a healthy relationship (even in the bounds of a fantasy novel) is. And I just find Azriel particularly useless, he's not a thoughtful sensitive soul, he's just yet to be focused on. And I do not look forwards to the day he is, based on his first and only current pov.
I'm not a Tamlin stan, in fact I really don't care for his character, but I think he suffers from lazy writing and some severe character assassination. I think the switch up on his character after the first book is absolutely ridiculous.
I dislike how SJM throws Elain around and treats her like a little precious baby and making her out to be an airhead whos absolved from the same crimes Nesta's hated for.
I'm not an SJM fan, I'm an avid SJM hater. I actually despise her, and while I won't write out my entire long list of grievances with her here, just know that literally all of my issues with the series would be gone if she was just a better person and writer. Seriously, I think she lacks so much mechanical and analytical skill (which is crazy, she's been publishing books for 12+ years and written like 15) and I see no change in the future. She constantly retcons, switches characters up for whatever her narrative calls for, and sacrifices good character writing for a fast track to mediocre faerie smut.
I hate the way she sexualized Feyre's experience under the mountain. I hate the way she immediately objectified Feyre when she got pregnant (the blurb describing Feyre walking around while pregnant is insanely kinky and I hate it). I hate the way she throws around trauma and mental illness like cute little stickers so that she can pick and choose the aspects she thinks are cool. I hate that she's fucked up people's perception of abuse and mental illness. I hate the way she uses poc and steals credit for representation she didn't care to make. This isn't even all of it, its just what I can remember within the 9 minutes I spent writing this brain dump. SJM does not deserve more of my time 😭
If I was a character in the series I genuinely think I'd avoid all of them, because I don't care, and if I somehow did have to be cornered with any of them, I'd hate all of them. But If I ever faced up with the mother (aka Sarah), it'd be on sight. My hatred for her knows no bounds. Hate is a strong word, and one I used so many times in this post (something SJM does a lot too though, so I'm not worried, seriously get a thesaurus and stop using the same phrases every 6 pages) because it's true.
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