#you could not convince me this isn’t something he would try
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HATE THE CLUB
Pairing : Idol Namjoon x non idol female reader
Summary: You can’t stay away from him - at least that’s what it feels like the universe is telling you. You and the man of your dreams, somewhere that you both hate, just to end up in a place you both love- his bed.
Genre: very mild angst, fluff, smut.
Warnings: oral (f) receiving, fingering, pussy smacking, Unprotected sex/ he finishes inside ( pls don't do this lol) making out, Namjoon is so sweet but ofc he is! Readers a creamer, Missionary, slight yearning. MDNI
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“Before you even ask me , I came ‘cause I knew you’d show up…”
“This isn’t even your scene, what if someone sees you?” You ask, searching the area. You would hate to be at the scene of what you know for sure would make the headlines, Although the 6ft of sin standing in front of you doesn’t seem to care.
Namjoon would be anything you needed. He decided that the moment you entered his life. You affected him. You always have. The first girl who understood him- not just intellectually, but emotionally. It’s always been you. Even if his career made it difficult, he would always choose you. Even right now standing in the middle of the club -where he knew it could get him in to some heavy shit, but none of that mattered. His heart didn’t agree with the opinions clouding his brain about staying away from you. You’re beautiful inside and out, it doesn’t matter how much you attempt to make him uninterested, all the attempts of staying away from you , horrible attempts from you where you tried to be selfless - he on the other hand wouldn’t stop trying. He’s never been a quitter, so why be different today?
“You really shouldn’t be here Joonie.” You say as you pull him somewhere into a dark corner.
The club is not a place Namjoon would decide to spend his time on a Thursday night. Neither would you, you’re only here with your friends-who you abandoned, because you needed an escape. Something to get you to stop thinking about him. Of course, he would be here though. It’s as if the universe pulled you together, no matter how far you tried to run away.
Namjoon can’t take his eyes off of you. He heard you loud and clear but all he’s thinking about is the nickname at the end of your statement. It always sounds so sweet when you say it. Everything you do drives him mad. He didn’t have a choice. It’s been this way from the moment you looked at him. He remembers the day vividly- but it isn’t the time to reminisce. He’s focused on now.
“You missed everything I said…I’m here because of you. I don’t care if I should be or not. I don’t care if it’s not my usual place to kick it at either. I’m here for you.” He reiterates.
He knows you understand. You’re just doing the thing you always do- putting up a wall.
“How long are you in town for?” You sigh. You can’t even believe you’re debating doing this. If only you didn’t want him just as bad.
“Tomorrow afternoon.” He’s searching your eyes. He needs you.
“This isn’t a good idea and you know that…” you roll your bottom lip through your teeth and shake your head before making eye contact with him.
He tilts his head, mimicking the same facial expression you’ve just given him.
“Fuck it. I don’t care. You can leave me after…I can’t stop thinking about you.” He’s pleading at this point but he’s never been too proud to do that either- not when it comes to you.
“Please.” He mutters looking at you. You’re screwed. You were the moment he walked in. You knew that too.
“Fuck it. Take me to your place.” You say. You’ve never been good at pushing him away. Every attempt is always a failure.
Namjoon wastes no time. The quicker he can get you alone, the quicker you can be skin-to-skin. Molded together and intertwined. He sticks his hand out for you to place yours in, and leads you out of the club.
The ride to his place is filled with no words, but tons of sexual tension. You wish you could convince him to stay with you- long term. You have always told yourself to be selfless, let him chase his dreams, and support him as best as you can, so you won’t interfere. You can’t deny it though. Namjoon has always been everything you want in a man. Smart, determined, well-mannered, good in bed, He’s your earth in every sense of the word.
Even now, your enamored as you watch his jaw clench as he parks the car. You reach to undo your seatbelt but Namjoon stops you.
“Come closer.” He says in a low tone, motioning you with his finger closer to his face.
He’s losing his composure. He really is just like you. Eager for what awaits. You do as he says and lean closer, brushibg your nose against his but right before he can make a move. You giggle and send his heart into a frenzy.
“Look who’s all worked up. When I told you to take me to your place, I meant inside.” You plant a kiss on his nose and then open your door.
“Whatever you want, darling.” He chuckles and you have to refrain from jumping on him at that moment. He knows you like it when he calls you that.
Once you make it to the steps, that’s when the fun starts. Your lips are immediately on each other. Hungry, acting like starved animals. When he finally reaches his door he pulls away. He knows you are antsy by the way you’re attacking his neck sucking on his most sensitive spots. He swears, it’s never taken him this long to open a door, and once he finally hears the lock retract he pushes the door open, spins you around so you’re in front of him, picks you up, making you straddle him. Your hands immediately wrap around his neck as you continue kissing him all over.
“You’re fucking needy.” He says nudging your head up so your lips connect and throwing his keys across the counter. Sliding his shoes off and carrying you to the countertop.
“I am. I missed you.” You say, nothing but truth behind your statement.
honesty- a shared trait between you that he respects so much.
You reach for his belt buckle and start to unfasten it.
You only have until tomorrow, you’re not here to waste a second.
As your hands find a place in his briefs, Namjoon starts to remove your top. He’s trying not to rip it off but he fails- he’s eager and you can’t help but laugh again. flinging your hair behind your shoulders, and covering your chest.
“I missed you too.” He says and smiles at you. Capturing your heart, with his dragon-like eyes and deep dimples.
“The counter was a cute idea but, I think I want you in the bed.” He pulls your hands away from your chest, placing them on his shoulders.
He picks you up again and starts kissing you on the way to his bedroom. your low moans into the kiss aren’t helping him right now. He’s pretty sure he could come through his pants right now. He can’t wait any longer. He needs to taste you, to be in you. He could do this for days, but unfortunately, time is not his friend. So he tosses you onto the bed and removes his shirt. His body is glistening. Chest heaving up and down in anticipation.
“Joonie…” you sound just as desperate. Like you’ve been longing for him.
“Shh baby, I’m right here.” He says as he climbs on top of you. your lips reconnect and he pins your hands above your head.
“Take your time?” You ask and he nods as he starts kissing down your neck. He knows you hate when he marks you, but you also know him. He thinks it’s sexy when he can see the little bruises he leaves on you. Little reminders he etches in your skin before he has to leave. The sad part for you is that they are just like him- disappearing acts.
He slowly but surely makes his way to your bra and slides the straps down your shoulder.
“I missed hearing you say my name.” He says as he fully removes it, leaving open kisses down your body. Getting the response he wished for.
His hands slide up your skirt and he starts to rub you through your panties. You’re aching and he can feel you throbbing against his fingers.
“Joon, please…” you say as you moan, reaching and pushing his hand to apply more pressure.
He takes the hint and slides further down. Looking up at you with his lust filled eyes, kissing your waist, and slowly sliding down your skirt and panties. You’re now fully undressed underneath him. He loves the view. You’ve always been shy so once he sees you attempt to cover your chest for the second time, He restrains your arms again with his right hand.
“You’re the one who asked me to take my time, now look at who’s worked up.” He teases.
You lift up, and try to kiss him but he just smiles some more against your lips. As he parts your legs, he rubs up your thigh and then you feel his hand right where you need him.
He tilts his head as you both look each other in the eyes. Kissing you one last time, parting your lips, and smacking your pussy. Capturing the moan you let out in his mouth.
“Mmmmmmm.” You say as your eyebrows furrow in.
Fuck. Still vulnerable, still responsive. He thinks to himself. He wants to be the only person who can make you feel like this.
He pulls himself away and immediately puts his face where he belongs. He
“Oh fuck.” You gasp at the pleasure as your breath hitches in your throat.
He takes his time eating you out. Like it might be the last time, you both know it never is because you can’t seem to walk away. He enjoys the way you squirm underneath him. The head pushes telling him you need more, the way you moan his name out in repetition. He could never let you go. Not when you show him how good he makes you feel.
“Joon, oh my god…right there.”
He follows the instructions you give. Sliding a finger into you, pumping it in and out as you continue with your whimpers and cries of pleasure. He adds another finger and glides into you, a steady rhythm of penetration and the gentle force from his tongue, sends you over the edge. He laps up your juices that he knows he’s responsible for. You only cum like this for him. You’re his no matter how much time you spend apart.
“Come here…” you say panting.
He climbs back up your legs and kisses you in the mouth. Lightly smacking your clit as he does. You just came but Namjoon knows you have more.
“Joonie …”
“Hmm.”
“Mmm, I wanna cum with you.” You say. Eyes rolling back feeling yourself close yet again since he is still playing with your pussy. You want to be with him like this for longer. Be in his arms for longer. Cum for him anytime he wants you to.
“You sure you’re ready?” He asks and you nod.
“Yes, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum.” You say finally having the energy to move his hand which earns you a laugh from the man hovering above you.
He removes his pants all the way finally. You were just as desperate as him. Like usual.
You set yourself up on your elbows to take at the sight in front of you.
“You’re bad.” You say biting your lip and looking him up and down.
“Could say the same about you.” He says as he crawls back over to you. He takes his time lining himself up to be inside the walls most familiar to him.
“I can’t stay away from you.” He admits and your heart nearly breaks. You give him a small smile. You know you can’t either.
“Hurry up. I miss-.”
You both moan upon his entrance. He’s looking you right in the eyes as he pumps in and out of you. Watching the way you cream, it feels like every time he removes himself there’s more of you spilling out onto him.
“Damn baby, look at us…” He says and you meet his gaze.
“You can’t look at me like that.” You say in between your moans
“You don’t mind.” He’s right, you don’t. But you should- you’ll miss him again. You don’t need the visual of him looking like this engraved in your mind but, it’s better than the memory you’ll have when he leaves tomorrow you tell yourself.
His deep and slow strokes make you feel so full.
“This is so much better than the club.” You say and you look into his eyes and he can’t help but give you a grin.
He reaches for your left hand and intertwines it with his.
“Yeah?” He asks as you moan out and put your free hand on his bicep that’s caging you in.
“Yeah, I hate the club.” You double down on your statement because it’s true. In more ways than one. You hate the club because it isn’t your scene. You hate the club because it isn’t going to help you forget Namjoon, it’ll bring you to him for whatever reason. The universe always puts him in your orbit.
Your pussy is milking him for everything he has, creaming all over him, If he wouldn’t have showed up- he doesn’t even want to think about that. A day without being inside of you always feels like years have passed by. Months feel like centuries.
“Fuck Joonie… just like that.” You moan out and he can’t stop himself from pecking your lips afterwards.
“You are my brightest star. Did you know that?” He says as he listens to your moans. They’re so soft, so alluring.
“I- I’m close.” You manage to muster up and he nods.
“I know baby, I can tell by the way you’re squeezing me. Shit” He isn’t too far off either.
“You’re gonna cum with me, right baby?” You ask and he nods.
He hurries and presses his lips to yours, thrust getting sloppy and lazy.
Your breath gets caught In your throat as you feel the knot deep in your stomach unravel.
“Shit, shit, shit.” He chants out as he empties himself inside of you.
He collapses onto your chest and you stroke his hair. Then the air gets heavy. You can feel it- time is going to run out.
“That was amazing, as always.” You say and he slowly pulls out of you and lays flat on his back. Eyes facing the ceiling before he glances over and looks at you.
“Be my girlfriend? No more of this not knowing how long it’ll take to see each other bullshit. I want you. I’d ask you more romantically but I just … I don’t want you to walk out of the door and me not know what’s next. I want to come home to you. I don’t care about anything else.” He’s serious and it’s everything you wanted to hear, but you’re quiet.
You’re scared. That must be the reason for your silence he assumes.
“You want me? You’re not worried about the public?”
He was right. You are scared. So he grabs your hand and kisses it softly.
“I’ll protect you from anyone, anything. No. I’m not worried, because I need you and I don’t care
who likes it or not.” He says as he reaches for your hand and kisses the back of it.
“Well then I’m Namjoon’s girlfriend then.” You say
Smiling but you’re not done yet
“Promise me you’ll still be the same person you are. I can’t handle anything else.”
He chuckles and pulls you into him.
“People change baby we need to grow but my love won’t unless it’s for the better.” He states matter of factly.
“Love?” You ask as you search his eyes.
“Love.” He says and you nod.
A kiss sealing the deal. Passionate, Fiery, but also just as soft as flower petals- just like the man who is now yours to claim.
“Mmm, princess can I tell you something?” He says as he pulls away.
“Anything.”
“I think love the club.” He says chuckling and you can’t help but laugh.
“It brought me the best sex of my life and my dream boyfriend, I might suddenly love the club too.” You say as you cup his face.
“Love?” He ask in the same tone as you did previously.
“Love,” you say stealing a kiss and sealing the deal.
A/n : let’s be fr. I love a happy ending lol
#kim namjoon#namjoon#bts smut#kim namjoon smut#bts angst#namjoon smut#namjoon fluff#MDNI#rm#bts x reader#rm fluff#rm fanfic#rm smut#jungkook fic#namjoon x reader#namjoon angst#namjoon x y/n#namjoon x oc#namjoon x you#kim namjun#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader
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Part Twenty Two
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The next morning, a gentle light filters through the curtains, softly illuminating the room. As you slowly awaken around noon, a faint scent of fresh linens lingers in the air. You aren’t surprised that you slept in, but you are surprised to see Simon still asleep beside you. Carefully shifting your body, you feel the warmth of his arm, which had been draped over your waist, slip away. As you do so, the blanket glides against your skin, providing a comforting sensation as you pull it up over your shoulders.
The events of last night replay in your mind like an old film, grainy and distorted, shrouded in a veil of fog. Your memories are muddled and jumbled. But there’s one thing, however, that you remember vividly — the kiss you initiated. You don’t know why you did. At least that is what you try to tell yourself. You also try to rationalize it, to convince yourself that the alcohol made you lose control and do it, that you weren’t thinking clearly. Yet somewhere deep inside, buried beneath layers of denial and self-deception, you know the undeniable truth — you wanted to kiss Simon. Fuck, not only that, but you wanted more, much more. Because after days of feeling numb, empty and hollow, the moment you started to feel different, the moment when happiness started to seep in, when contentment started to fill up the hollow spaces, you couldn’t bear the thought of letting those feelings slip away.
Simon’s lips part, and he mumbles something in his sleep. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, but you quickly wipe it off, not wanting to give in to the warm fuzzy feeling spreading through your chest.
Eventually, after what seems like an eternity of simply watching Simon sleep, you roll out of the bed. Your body feels as though it has been run over by a truck. All your muscles scream in protest, aching in places you didn’t even know could ache. But, on the bright side, at least the room isn’t spinning anymore, and the world isn’t dancing around you like a sickening carousel.
Planting your feet on the cold floor, the stark contrast between the cozy warmth of the bed and the biting chill of the floor sends an icy jolt up your spine. You slowly get up. As your gaze wanders around, it lands on the window, which is slightly ajar. At first, you think it is a trick of the light, but as you approach it, a sudden gust of wind forcefully pushes its way through the small opening. You halt for a moment, letting the wind play with your hair, feeling the strands whip against your face. Then you inhale deeply, pulling the fresh air into your lungs.
Had this happened a week ago, you would have been frantically scheming of ways to pry the window open fully, perhaps even considering jumping out. But now, you simply stand there. Your arms are wrapped around your waist, as you take in shallow breaths of the crisp air. Now and then, your eyes dart over your shoulder, checking on Simon. Yet he continues to sleep soundly, undisturbed by your movement…
You take a shower, wash your hair and then spend another hour in the bathroom, standing like a statue in front of the sink, looking at the mirror that is above it. You don’t recognise your reflection. The woman staring back at you is a stranger; her features unfamiliar, the dark circles under her eyes a harsh reminder of your restless nights. With a sigh, your fingers lightly trace these unwanted signs of fatigue before your palms come to rest on your cheeks, hiding your face from view.
When you return to the bedroom, you find Simon awake. The sight of you, dressed with your hair still slightly damp from the shower, brings a smile to his face. Surprisingly, you smile back at him.
“Did you sleep well?” He asks and you nod. “Good.”
You are rooted to the spot, standing near the end of the bed. Uncertain of what do to next, you watch Simon, who remains just as quiet, his gaze never leaving you.
“I’m hungry,” you finally break the silence. At your words, Simon sits up, the movement causing the blanket to slide off him and reveal his bare skin. Your eyes involuntarily travel down his chiselled chest, only returning to his face when he speaks.
“What are you in the mood for?”
Caught off-guard by his question, you shrug and then spend the next five minutes in deep thought before finally answering with the least helpful response, “Something sweet.”
* * *
Simon refuses to let you assist him in the kitchen. And the only thing you are allowed to do is slice fruits with a knife that’s so dull, it could hardly cut through butter. Meanwhile, he takes on the more prominent task of meticulously mixing the pancake batter. The conversation between you two starts off as a gentle simmer. Neither of you are particularly talkative, letting the comfortable silence fill the gaps.
However, as soon as he brings up your low tolerance for alcohol, insinuating with a playful glint in his eyes that he had somewhat anticipated the night to culminate with you in the bathroom, the teasing begins. Trying your best to furrow your brows and pout, you make a valiant attempt to look offended. However, a traitorous smile still creeps onto your face, betraying your feigned annoyance as you shake your head in disapproval, unable to hide your amusement.
“Surely, you weren’t dozing off after one glass,” you retort, your words dripping with sarcasm.
“No, I was simply resting my eyes,” he counters, his focus riveted on the sizzling stove.
His back is turned to you. His broad shoulders block your view of his face, creating a perfect opportunity for you to roll your eyes at him. “Yes, yes, yes, you were!” you exclaim, your voice echoing in the kitchen as a giggle bubbles up from your throat.
The grating sound of a heavy vehicle crunching against the gravel in the driveway abruptly disrupts your and Simon’s morning. The tires, burdened by the vehicle’s weight, screech in loud protest against the sudden halt. Your heart, caught off-guard, skips a beat, fluttering like a caged bird against your rib cage. A wave of anxiety washes over you, chilling you to your core and making your breath hitch in your throat as a singular thought crashes through the tranquility of your mind like a thunderbolt: Johnny.
Every attempt to bury the vivid memory of the last time you saw him, of his betrayal, seems in vain. It’s a haunting memory that persistently pricks at your heart - a deep-rooted, festering wound that never quite managed to heal, always lurking beneath the surface of your consciousness like a shadow in the twilight. Although, now, as you look back, his actions no longer seem steeped in betrayal. Instead, it feels as if he saved you from a fate far worse. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, a thorny truth that pierces through the veil of denial, but you realize that if it hadn’t been for Johnny, you may very well still be lost, wandering aimlessly in the endless forest.
As Simon slowly, almost reluctantly, reaches for the knob, turning off the stove, you rise from your seat simultaneously, too. His steely gaze barely grazes your direction. But when it does, and he finally looks at you, his eyes are a stormy sea of unspoken words. Without uttering anything, without any hint of a sound escaping his lips, he sharply jerks his chin upward and a silent command reverberates across the kitchen. You nod. Immediately, your feet carry you towards the staircase and you ascend it, rushing into your room.
As soon as the door closes, you find yourself darting towards the window. In the driveway below is parked a truck. However, it isn’t the aged, beaten-up truck you’ve come to associate with Johnny.
Your face presses against the cool glass, cheeks squishing against the smooth surface as you attempt to get a better look. Your breath fogs up the window as you squint, trying to make out any details. Yet despite your best efforts to angle your head, crane your neck in the most uncomfortable of positions, you don’t catch a glimpse of Johnny.
It feels as though time has stretched out as your gaze remains unwaveringly fixated on the ominous truck outside. But then, the tranquility of the quiet house is shattered by the unexpected sound of heavy footsteps. It’s as if a herd of stampeding elephants has suddenly decided to hold a raucous parade from the narrow hallway into the living room. A lump forms in your throat—physical manifestation of your growing apprehension that propels you towards the door.
Yet, when you finally reach it, a wave of raw, unadulterated fear washes over you, rooting you to the spot as if your feet have been ensnared in a pool of quick-drying cement. The low, rumbling voices of multiple people filter through the wooden grain of the door, their unintelligible murmurs further stoking the raging flames of your anxiety. In this moment, you realize with a sinking heart that you are not brave enough to open the door. Nor do you possess the courage to venture out of the sanctuary of your room and steal a peek at the commotion happening downstairs.
* * *
You are sitting at the table, meticulously tearing pages out of some book and trying to fold paper flowers when the door creaks and opens. Instinctively, your head swivels toward the hallway.
You expect Simon to step in, but instead it’s Johnny. He looks taller than you remember, his presence imposing and intimidating. His face is etched with severity, and he’s decked out in all black gear, from his boots to his heavy-duty jacket. The sight of him, especially the glinting gun strapped to his thigh, makes your pulse race. You find yourself recoiling instinctively, curling up defensively in the chair you’re seated on. An uneasiness engulfs you. You know something is off, although you can’t put your finger on it.
“Hey,” he greets you, his stern expression softening slightly as he bridges the distance between you. His eyes reveal a flicker of an emotion you can’t quite place, but seems dangerously akin to guilt.
With a curt nod, he signals for you to follow him. His commanding tone, a subtle mix of assertion and urgency, leaves no room for argument or hesitation. But despite the palpable fear that gnaws at your stomach, you shake your head and don’t stand up. Your hands, as if on their own accord, tighten around the paper flower you had just folded. The pressure of your grip squashes it mercilessly in your fist; the once delicate, painstakingly crafted creation is now a crumpled mess.
“Where’s Simon?” You ask, not caring about anything else and certainly not wanting to go anywhere with Johnny.
“Downstairs,” he replies simply, his tone cryptic.
As you and Johnny engage in a silent standoff, you remain defiantly seated, refusing to rise, while he holds his ground, refusing to exit. The air between you is thick with tension, becoming a palpable third entity in the room. A cascade of questions tumble from your lips like a waterfall, demanding answers as to why Simon had sent him to fetch you, and why you are required to go anywhere at all. Yet, Johnny remains cryptic, providing no answers to your queries, only promising to tell you what is going on if you come with him. Still, regardless of his promise, you don’t budge.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” suddenly, he says, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You freeze, your body involuntarily stiffening as he reaches out to you, his fingers gently wrapping around your shoulder in a squeeze. “I know what he did,” he confesses, his voice thick with sincerity and regret that is too profound to fake.
Perhaps Johnny assumed that his confession and the promise of answers would be enough to coax you into leaving the room and following him without protest. However, you remain resolute, unyielding in your decision not to move a muscle.
Eventually, Johnny resorts to physically guiding you downstairs. His hand clasps around your arm and pulls you to your feet. But even then, he exercises caution, making sure not to apply too much pressure that could hurt you. His fingers don’t dig too deep into your skin, as if he’s mindful of avoiding causing you any unnecessary discomfort or pain.
The moment you and Johnny cross the threshold into the living room, the once spacious area seems to shrink, as if the walls are closing in. The reason for this is the presence of three imposing figures, each one bigger than the last. Meanwhile, Simon is perched uncomfortably on the edge of the couch. His fingers drum against his knee, producing a rhythmic tap-tap-tap that echoes in the otherwise silent room, amplifying your anxiety to an almost palpable level.
You don’t know who these men are, standing tall with tense backs and squared shoulders. Their eyes, sharp and calculating, rake over you like icy gusts of wind. The sight of the men staring at you is enough to make you feel a dizzying sense of unease and make your heart pound in your chest; the room spins slightly as if you are on the verge of fainting.
Your immediate instinct, driven by a primal need for safety, is to sprint toward Simon. Yet Johnny, with his uncanny ability to anticipate your thoughts and actions, is quick to react. After reading your body language, he firmly holds you back. His grip on your arm is unyielding, as if he were a statue carved from stone. Instead of letting you dart towards Simon, he steers you toward a chair that has been hastily brought into the room and forces you to take a seat.
#simon riley x reader#writing#simon ghost riley#ghost x y/n#simon riley x you#ghost x you#ghost x reader#call of duty#cod#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty
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Yandere Tsumiki Mikan | Infectious AU
Requested by @theoneandonlyyuriaoo: Can you do any goodbye despair character x reader?
The world had turned on its head. An infectious parasite that devoured the brain and rotted the body. It drove the modern world to ruin; making populated cities become deserted wastelands filled by the infected.
Of course like all crises in the world fortresses are made. Fortresses that everyone flocks to hoping to guarantee a life of structure safety and healthcare. Relying on the most talented and resourceful leaders to bring the structure the old world used to have. Including the promise of care by the world’s greatest nurse.
“Nurse Tsumiki, we need to rewrap the bandages on patient #237!”
“C-c-coming! Oof–oh no the syringes!”
Tsumiki Mikan is the best nurse in the world or at least in the closest fortress you can get in. Said to be able to cure those in the final stages of the infectious parasite, she’s a clumsy but gifted nurse. When the fortresses do begin their ‘peaceful’ negotiations her residence is a heavy point of contention. Of course, anyone would want the woman who managed to make a cure working in their medical wing.
She’s such a celebrity, that your fellow patients excitedly speak of her when she comes to check on them. Unfortunately, you’ve been sleeping every time she’s supposedly stopped by. Though you weren’t worried. A simple broken arm shouldn’t need the greatest medical mind’s attention, you had to be convinced by your party to even admit yourself into the medical ward.
So it truly is a surprise when you wake to the nurse in the middle of the night holding an IV bag. It was easy to recognize her by the outline made by the small nightlight from the hall. What made you question if it was her, was the inhuman twitching and giggling she was doing.
“O-Oh~! Y-y-you’re awake!”
You’ll protest the need for an IV bag—it’s just a broken arm. But she’ll determinedly protest it, the way she does when the emergency is dire. Abandoning her usual stutter she’ll go on to rant and rave about how this may be a doorway to something worse.
“You have to listen to me, (Y/n)! You need to stay here in bed! With me!+”
Despite you being an average survivor, you weren’t an idiot. Even with a minor background in anatomy and the way diseases are spread; you know most of what she’s saying isn’t true. Or at least not in your case. So you’ll explain and try to rationalize with her even as she settles herself on your bed.
“Look Mikan I appreciate your concern but it’s really not that bad!”
“Noo! Noo! You can’t!”
“Please stop crying. You’ll wake up the other patients.”
She’ll keep whining and protesting her mute point; all the while scooching up on your bed. As if trying to get as close as possible.+ It isn’t until you say the most off-limits thing in the history of your conversation with her.
“You know what, I’m just going to check out and I’ll go back if I find anything–”
“NO!”
She immediately hops up on your lap, trapping your free hand and legs underneath hers. That was the least of your concerns as she held your face in her hands. Rubbing a thumb obsessively on your cheeks, she practically rubs her nose against your own.
“No no no no no you can’t leave (Y/n)! You need to stay with me forever forever forever forever!”
You couldn’t really stop her as she practically devoured your mouth in some wild form of a kiss. There was biting, sucking, and something viscous shoved down your throat. As your vision blurred and your cognitive control slipped from you; you could hear the door open and the silhouette of a more familiar nurse who refused to look at you.
“Miss Tsumiki…your orders?”
The nurse’s giggling turned into a full-blown cackle clutching your head into her chest. The nurse said nothing as she proceeded to play with your cheeks while she continued to maniacally laugh.
“It’s just as I feared~! (Y/n)’s condition has worsened we need to quarantine them in my private ward!”
“Yes, Miss Tsumiki.”
Better her than the infection right?
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere x darling#female yandere#yandere tsumiki mikan#yandere mikan#yandere mikan tsumiki#yandere mikan x reader#yandere tsumiki mikan x reader#yandere mikan tsumiki x reader#yandere ultimate nurse#yandere danganronpa#yandere danganronpa x reader#yandere danganronpa 2#yandere danganronpa: goodbye despair
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[3] new notification!
msby!atsumuxreader || w/c: 1.1k + 1 min of video (yes, video.)
chocolate chip cookies are the way to a guy's heart. (everyone knows that!)
a/n: wow I thought I wouldn't post anything this week, but one really good chocolate cake later, I felt alive. Perhaps Atsumu and I are more similar than I thought.
🔔Please use full screen for the video!
[<-chapter 2][chapter 4->] ||[start from intro][masterlist]
Back when you were still at university, you had a part time job at the campus gym. Legally, you weren’t allowed to call yourself a nutritionist at that point, but that’s what you did. It was never anything complicated— the hardest thing had been managing expectations.
No, you won’t have noticeable muscle definition in a month.
Yes, you’ll need quite a bit longer than a week to lose ten kilos.
That will give you results, but perhaps a more sustainable plan?
So yes, expectations. You’re in a career chock-full of them. You’re good at managing them. Even when it’s hard.
Or so you’d thought.
Can I keep starin’?
(Could it really be that easy?)
With four words, Atsumu Miya had ripped open the top of that flimsy cardboard box you’d oh-so-carefully stuffed your expectations in, and now you were struggling to (convince yourself to) put them back in. For the last few hours, you’ve been fiddling with that metaphorical scotch-tape, not quite daring to believe he could be interested in you— and yet unable to let go of that fantasy.
Was it a fantasy?
You can still picture his flushed-red face, the anticipation and anxiety in his eyes. It wasn’t the kind of look you expected from a flirty joke.
Or…
It's when Osamu has to stop you from trying to grab the piping hot handle of a cast iron pan for the second time that you realise you need to come back to your senses.
“Osamu,” you ask, timidly. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Atsumu.”
Osamu turns down the flame on the burner, and looks at you. His face is neutral— some people went as far as calling those droopy grey eyes of his ‘expressionless’, but you preferred to think of them as steady. Osamu always said it like it was.
He’s going to give you the reality check you so obviously need.
“How stupid am I for thinking I have a chance with Atsumu?”
You brace yourself for a scathing reply. Perhaps, ‘Next time, I won’t stop ya from burning yourself.’ Or maybe, “That oaf? Sorry, the only thing he’s attracted to is balls. Volleyballs, that is.”
What he does instead, is sigh heavily, and a little exasperatedly.
“Did ya two idiots finally figure it out?”
Your heart skips a beat. “What?”
“You heard me,” Osamu says, turning up the flame once more. He stirs the simmering broth as he speaks. “He’s been actin’ stupid all week. And you’ve been actin’ stupid around him for a while.”
Oh. Oh.
There’s no way you’re ever putting those expectations away ever again, because that stupid box is all soggy at the bottom now. Soggy, because the raging mix of relief and happiness swirling around in your chest— the weight lifted off your shoulders because you don’t have to pretend anymore— is making you tear up.
Osamu hears you sniffle.
“Aw, c’mon,” he says, tapping off the broth and setting the spoon beside the stove, “you know he isn’t worth cryin' over.” There’s a cheeky grin on his face, as he brings his large hands up to your face, wiping away the tears. “Want me to beat him up for ya?”
(You think he really might be your best friend.)
“You’re just looking for an excuse to!” You say, pulling his hands away as you laugh.
He holds them up in mock defence. “Hey, two birds and all. Are you going call him?”
You’re already scrambling inside your purse. “I… think I forgot my phone at work.”
He clicks his tongue. “I take it back, yer perfect for each other.”
“Hey!” You say it indignantly, but his words make you feel warm. Perfect for each other. “Can I borrow your phone? Would that be weird?”
“He’d make it weird,” Osamu scoffs. “Just go over.”
“I— I should bring him something.”
He makes an amused expression. “Okay.”
“I don’t know what.”
“Are you asking me for help?”
You make your best puppy face. “Please?”
Osamu sighs. “Well, he’s been complainin’ about those raisin bran cookies for weeks now…”
“I think it would be best if you don’t say anything. Just let it blow over,” the publicist says. She’s using the speakerphone, and her voice sounds far away. Atsumu can hear the clack of keyboard keys in the background. “I mean it, Miya. Log out of everything. No, uninstall everything.”
“Don’t ya trust me even a little bit?” Atsumu asks. He tries to sound teasing, but his heart isn’t in it.
“No,” she says bluntly. The call goes blank.
Atsumu collapses back on to his bed, legs hanging over the edge. He holds his phone up over his face, staring at the ‘call ended’ until the screen turns itself off, and then sighs heavily.
It’s not that he’s worried. She was right, it would blow over. But it would happen again. And he knows that each time, it would chip off a little piece of you; and eventually leave your edges jagged and rough enough to cut.
You’d resent him for it.
Atsumu unlocks his phone. It’s easy enough to find those pictures of you and Osamu again.
You look so happy.
He doesn’t think he was being delusional earlier, he knows there was something more than plain embarrassment in your eyes when you’d looked at him; and yet, he can’t shake the thought that he’s being selfish.
The photo is cropped awkwardly, and he knows you and Osamu are close, but he can’t help but feel disheartened, and then hate himself for feeling like that. Were you two actually seeing each other? Was he meddling in his brother’s happiness, your happiness? What did he have to offer that his brother didn’t, save for the scrutiny of strangers?
The phone buzzes.
His eyes flick up to the notification bar. It’s a DM request from one of his new-found confidantes.
(Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do.)
In that brief moment, Atsumu understands his mother, and her panic at the state of the house when guests were imminent. He even understands, as he turns a couple of the trophies he has on display a few degrees to the left, why she would go around adjusting her many throw pillows in those last few seconds. That time seemed to stretch endlessly.
And then the doorbell rings, and time seems to somehow come to a stop and rush forward at the same time.
Atsumu stumbles on the carpet as he rushes to open the door.
And there you are.
“Hey, Atsumu,” you say, fiddling with the lid of the plastic container in your hands, “can we talk?”
(Wow, he thinks for some reason. I think those are cookies.)
Osamu walked her over because the publicist was calling around to find her, when she couldn't get a hold of reader on her number. He was worried about her going alone. What a prince.
Divider @/cafekitsune
Tweet images edited from here and Shokubutsu Zukan (by Tsutsumi Kakeru). Had a hard time finding the source for that image lol, it's been used in SO many fic headers. Each time I reverse image searched, If found a slightly less cropped version until it ended as the full page. and then i had to google translate this russian pirated manga site.
next chapter will be the last + I will post a little bonus from the osamu POV. :)
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Our Little Wolf and Little Star
Married Wolfstar x twin!daughters (Willow and Selene)
Requested: no
Summary: Wolfstar adopted two twin girls and raise them the best they can.
Warnings: description of birth (barely), some cursing, kinda cringe, but it’s for the vibes.
A/N: EVERYONE LIVES AU. Mary Kate and Ashely movie vibes. Also… listen to Little Star by Dion and the Bellmonts and Li’l Red Riding Hood by The Royal Ruardsmen for ultimate vibes.
3rd Person POV
October 31st, 1980
The wait in the hospital was complete agony. Remus sat in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair. The only position that feels remotely comfortable is resting my head on my hands. His mind races faster and faster, watching his husband, Sirius, pace back and forth in front of him. James sits silently in the chair to the right of Remus. He’s trying his best to calm the pair down, but his words fall on deaf ears in Sirius and Remus’s overanalyzing ones.
“Mates, you both need to calm down. Everything will be just fine.”
Sirius stops his pacing and stares at James, his eyes wide with lack of sleep. “Calm down? What if something goes wrong? Why is it taking so long in the first place? It’s cause I’m stubborn, so they’re being stubborn to punish me? Fuck, I knew we should’ve used Remus’s-”
“Siri, stop talking.” Remus’s voice and eyes were stern as he sat back in the chair to get a better look at Sirius. The topic of who was going to donate sperm has been a sensitive one from the moment a surrogate was mentioned. The risk of passing his lycanthropy onto their future children was enough for the werewolf to insist on using Sirius’s for the donor.
All Sirius does is roll his eyes and plop on the seat on the other side of Remus, head falling on Remus’s shoulder out of exhaustion and instinct. Remus’s hand slides into Sirius’s, their fingers intertwining.
“I mean it. Plus, our kids would have your hair and height. That’s a win in my book.” Sirius moves his eyes to look up at Remus, but his head stays stationary.
Remus brought their hands up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of his husband’s. “It’s a little late for that now, innit?”
The labor has been going on for 48 hours, but the couple’s anxieties have been going on since they found out the implantation was successful. It only intensified as the months went on, now at an all-time high. Both of them refusing to sleep in case the surrogate, Maud, started to push. They both wanted to be ready to run into the room and watch their daughters take their first breaths.
As much as James tried to calm them down and convince them to sleep just for a bit, Remus and Sirius were too stubborn and sleep-deprived to listen. James even called Lily, hoping she would talk sense into them, but with her stuck at home with a one-month-old Harry, her over-the-phone and sleep-deprived threats were far less intimidating.
“Sirius, labor takes time. Lily was in labor for 12 hours. And you have twins, so of course, it’s going to take longer.” James’s voice was empathetic, but this sentence has been said three times already. Every comforting thing James could think of has been said, causing the words to lose meaning to Sirius.
Although Remus was pretending to keep it together, he was a nervous wreck inside. He walked into the hospital as Remus Lupin: Wizard, Warewolf, Husband, but when he leaves, father will be added to that title.
The muggle hospital seemed odd to the three wizards. It was much more controlled and secretive than anything in the wizarding world. The wing they were in was decorated with blue, pink, and yellow, with a quiet lullaby playing every so often, signifying a new baby had been born. Every lullaby that goes off that isn’t to celebrate baby Lupin allows jealousy and anxiety to grow more and more.
“Sirius, Remus,” James takes a deep breath, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but maybe you should go home and get some sle-”
“Sirius and Remus Lupin?” A nurse in pink scrubs walks into the waiting room. Her eyes scan and spot the two men rising from their chairs. She smiles at them and pulls her mask down. “Your surrogate is pushing; we’ll have you wait outside the room until she’s done. Come with me.” She turns around, and then men are quick to follow.
James shouts a quick “Good luck!” but the fathers-to-be don’t even look back to respond.
The two husbands wait outside the delivery suite, their hands intertwined. They waited less than ten minutes, their minds going a million kilometers a second, but none of those thoughts mattered when they heard a faint cry behind the door followed by a quiet lullaby version of “Happy Birthday” playing over the speakers.
Remus’s eyes widen, the weight being lifted off his shoulders. Sirius’s smile widens immediately. It isn’t until they hear a second cry that the couple hug each other. Happy tears flow from Sirius’s eyes while he laughs out of relief. The soft lullaby plays again for the second baby girl, signaling everything is going well in the delivery room.
A soft knock coming from inside the room interrupts their celebration. A nurse in pink scrubs walks into the hallway and smiles at the couple. “Would you like to come in and meet your daughters?”
Sirius kisses Remus’s head as they enter the room. They’re given a bit of hand sanitizer before being given their little girls to hold. The two husbands thanked the surrogate a million times before being taken into a separate room to fill out paperwork as Maud recovered.
The twins were no longer ideas and possibilities; they were real and in their arms.
The two walk out into the waiting room with the babies swaddled in a soft pink blanket and pale yellow hats. Sirius’s tears started again when he saw the mass of people in the waiting room. It was no longer James, but everyone important in their lives was there to support the new parents. Lily was there with Harry, Regulus, Peter, Marlene and Dorcus, Mary, Alice, and Frank, who brought Neville. Even Andromeda showed up.
“Everyone,” Remus’s voice was still a whisper, yet loud enough for the whole crowd to hear. “I am happy to present to you for the first time ever Willow Lily Lupin. Born at 7 lbs and 2 ounces. 1st born by 3 minutes.” He raises his elbow a bit, letting people get a better look at the sleeping baby in his arms.
“And this is Selene Andromeda Lupin, who stands at 7 lbs and 5 ounces.” Sirius continues, smiling at the little bundle in his arms. His gaze couldn’t be broken even if he tried, and he didn’t want to.
Regulus smiled softly before speaking up. “W and S, Wolf and Star, I’m assuming?” His eyes were locked on his big brother, someone he’d seen in this caring and protective role before, but this time it seemed out of love instead of fear. Regulus also wanted to start crying happy tears, but he refused to be in front of a large group.
“I guess it is.” Sirius grinned and looked up at his brother before looking back down at the sleeping baby. “Hell, my Little Star.”
“So Willow is Little Wolf then?” James ran the back of his finger over Willow’s cheek, replicating something he often does to Harry when he sleeps.
“I guess she is.” Remus's smile grows more if that is even possible. “Our little Wolf.”
Sirius turns to his husband beaming. So much love and happiness filled his eyes. “Our girls.”
Remus met Sirius’s gaze with the same love and tenderness. “Our girls.”
#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#wolfstar#parent wolfstar#dad wolfstar#wolfstar x reader#dad!remus#dad!sirius#everyone lives au#wolfstar daughter#marauders as parents#wolfstar as parents#james potter#sirius x reader#sirius and remus#remus x sirius#remus lupin#sirius being sirius#sirius and regulus#sirius black#marauders#wolfstar parents
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Concept: Star Wars AU where everything is the same except for that like five minutes before Yoda shows up to confront chancellor Emperor Palpatine, Quinlan Vos drops from the ceiling and splits him in half before he even notices anything’s wrong
#fanfiction#lucifra speaks#star wars#quinlan vos#shitpost#kinda#this is just a silly oneshot idea#he’s like 5% less chaotic than obi-wan and he should have more screen time#you could not convince me this isn’t something he would try#he’s just as much a dramatic showman as the rest of the order#and I think he could actually pull it off#he survived the entire fucking empire I think he can put down one remnant of a dead order
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I once heard that dreaming about someone constantly means that they’re thinking about you. Maybe these people miss you too?
kneejerk reaction is that I hope they’re not thinking of me tbh
#is that the truth? I’m not too sure. I just think it’s be easier to be okay with the concept of everyone forgetting me forever than to sit#with the mortifying possibility of being known and remembered#I don’t remember my hs self fondly so I don’t see why anyone else would yknow#I was already kinda convinced everybody hated me before I vanished so I guess. if ppl are thinking about me it’s negative#it’s scarier if it isn’t lmaoo#I don’t know what’s wrong with me#but yeah I don’t think it works like that nonnie or at the very least I hope it doesn’t <3#I think I’m just a weird guy whose brain is trying to hold on to idealized memories of the past because he’s afraid of growing up#n wishes they had the insight they do now back then. if I had known I was a nb lesbian dealing w massive comp het#if I had known abt the bpd I could’ve realized that I split on ppl and myself#i was so excited to have friends and be cared about man#I hate that little guy I was but I don’t blame them for being stupid and not understanding shit. I wish I could slap my younger self on the#back of the head and be like “’be normal dumbass ur friends like you’’#I uhh often focus on hurting myself more than not hurting the people around me and it was rlly bad back then#asks#nonnie#this is all to say that I think that the constant feeling of instability and academic stress is causing me to subconsciously wish for the#the days I perceive as being easier. it’s a mishmash of real events and things that possibly could’ve been if I was normal#I believe I want a feeling of control or something? idk. idk that contradicts everything#dreams are just dreams. I’m probably just regretting how much of senior year I lost and that’s it
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。GOODBYE KISS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationships, morning cuddles wif toru <3, morning tantrums with toru too lol, ft. our fav: momjo !!
satoru’s head is on your chest as he snores softly—normally, you adore the feeling of him so close to you, but right now, it’s five minutes until your wake-up-for-real-this-time-or-you’re-late alarm will go off. you’ve already hit snooze on the other six—how satoru’s slept through them all is a mystery to you.
you peer down at him, watching the way his lips are parted as soft breaths escape him in gentle sighs. his hair is messy over his forehead, and the sun makes his skin glow in that way only satoru could glow. you sigh, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and as if he feels the affection in his sleep, he hums a little while still unconscious.
too bad you’ll have to break this peace in just a moment.
and this is going to work out poorly—you already know that. if you move from under satoru, he’ll wake up. if he wakes up, he’ll realize you’re trying to leave. if he realizes you’re trying to leave, he’ll have a meltdown. if he has a meltdown, he’ll surely win and convince you to stay. if you stay, you’ll miss class and fall behind on the notes. if you fall behind on the notes, you’ll procrastinate on catching up. if you procrastinate on catching up, you’ll know absolutely nothing by the time the next exam rolls around. if you know nothing by the time the next exam rolls around, you’ll have multiple mental breakdowns and lose yourself to stress the night before as you cram all in one sitting.
simply put, your entire grade resides on the fact that satoru is currently sleeping on your chest, and he definitely won’t let you leave.
you try anyway—and just as you suspect, you fail.
“huh? wha—where are you going?” he groans, rubbing his eyes as he blinks them open. “wait a sec—baby no,” he whines.
“shh, toru, you’re dreaming,” you kiss his forehead, “i’m not actually leaving.”
“i’m not stupid!”
“shhh, your dream is tricking you,” you insist, “i’m still right under you.”
“you can’t gaslight me! i’m not falling for your tricks,” he huffs, “how gullible do you think i am?”
very, you want to say—but that would be a bad idea.
“you’re not stupid at all, toru,” you say sweetly, “you’re the smartest man i’ve ever met.”
“this is definitely not a dream because you’re even meaner to me in my dreams,” he raises a brow, “dream you would never be this nice.”
“what do you mean i’m mean in your dreams?” you gasp. you’re not mean to satoru—you wouldn’t have to yell at him if he just behaved half the time.
“they’re more like nightmares,” he huffs, “last one, you made me sleep outside. that was rude.”
“how could you dream me being a jerk?” you ask, offended—and before he can answer, your wake-up-for-real-this-time-or-you’re-late alarm blares.
satoru glances down at your phone and stares for a moment—and then he flops back against his pillow as he whines miserably.
“don’t leave,” he begs, “please, just skip this one class for me? i get so cold in the mornings,” he pouts.
“then put a shirt on,” you sigh.
“i’ll be lonely!”
“not if i’m bullying you in your dreams, apparently.”
“baby, i can’t sleep without something to cuddle,” he tries again—that one almost makes you cave. you have to admit that cuddling isn’t something you enjoy passing on either, but class is important. more important than class is your sanity that you would like to keep intact instead of lose while cramming six chapters in one night.
“cuddle my pillow,” you sigh, “satoru, please. i’m already late.”
“just this once, okay? i won’t ask again,” he says innocently, his eyes wide and pleading as they peer up at you.
“you said that last time.”
“last time i crossed my fingers,” he winks, “so it didn’t count. so now you have to—”
“goodbye, satoru,” you mumble.
he slumps in defeat, grumbling under his breath before rolling over to turn his back to you petulantly. you sigh, rolling your eyes—though fondly, before you head to the bathroom, getting ready for the day.
by the time you’re out, satoru has fallen asleep again—you know it’s because he’s stayed up late again to play video games with suguru. because you don’t want to disturb him from his much needed sleep (and because you don’t want to risk waking up him and dealing with another tantrum), you decide to gently pull the blankets over his bare chest and skip the goodbye kiss.
it won’t be a big deal if he doesn’t get a kiss goodbye while he’s asleep, right? he won’t even be awake to notice.
evidently, you realize in the middle of class that you’re wrong. very wrong.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤToday, 8:32 AM
baby boy 💋:
you left without a goodbye kiss???????????
are you ignoring me????????????
baby
sweetheart
sunshine
angel
peaches
i know you’re reading this.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤToday, 8:41 AM
mrs. gojo ❤️:
please answer satoru. i really don’t want a headache today
this is very short and silly sorry. anyway rip momjo she deal with too much that boy is a handful
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#rich boy! au#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]
“I’m having a child.”
Danny stared at Batman.
“…Uh, congrats?”
Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”
Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”
Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.
“I mean- I have parents!”
“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”
Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”
“They’re still… alive?”
“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.
“I see.”
“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”
Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.
“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.
“Of course. Tell me everything.”
The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.
Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.
——
“Hey, Tim?”
Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”
“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”
Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”
Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”
“You… want to confront Batman.”
“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”
“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.
“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”
“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.
“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”
Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”
Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”
“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”
“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”
“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.
Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.
“Jason regularly showers, though?!”
“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”
“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”
“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”
“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”
“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”
“Danny, what the fuck?”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”
“Hey!”
“Soul-stinky nerd man!”
——
“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.
“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”
“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”
“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.
“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”
“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.
“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.
“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.
“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.
“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.
#Danny: not another adoption!#Vlad and Bruce trying to adopt Danny even though he’s got parents:🤝#batman#danny phantom#tim drake#jason todd#bruce wayne#dc x dp#bamf danny phantom#dpxdc#dcxdp#dcxdp crossover#sea cryptic! danny au
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Tattoo
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Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off.
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach.
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse.
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree.
You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that.
But you were so wrong.
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint.
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug.
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him.
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky...
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath.
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself.
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn.
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing.
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person.
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile.
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk.
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head.
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot.
“Thank you.” You almost whispered.
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo.
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes.
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away.
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness.
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it.
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke?
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session.
“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there.
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.”
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you.
The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over.
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor.
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected.
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it.
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.”
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop.
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again.
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything.
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes.
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one.
“I can do it myself!”
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged.
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest.
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss.
He was good at it.
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself.
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop.
God, he must be big.
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly?
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question.
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs.
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot.
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?”
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.”
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment.
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do.
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.”
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died.
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch.
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit.
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.”
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips.
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you.
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place.
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed.
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time.
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.”
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold.
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong.
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?"
“I do.”
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips.
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs.
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer.
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there.
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip.
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing.
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress.
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails.
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time.
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues.
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside.
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life.
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could.
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away.
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.”
“Good fucking girl.”
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder.
You both felt how close you were.
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple.
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you.
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session.
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.”
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky x y/n#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader#marvel fic#marvel fanfic
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Like an animal | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader
Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.
Wordcount -> 2.371
Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut
Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll
A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.
He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.
When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.
Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.
“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.
He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.
You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.
“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.
“Bucky, did you catch him?”
“No?”
“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.
“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”
You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.
“BUCKY!”
“What? I try to open the door, oke!”
“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.
“What?”
Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.
“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”
“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”
“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”
The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.
“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.
“B-Bucky. I-“
He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“What do you think you’re doing there?”
“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.
He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.
“Please, Bucky.”
“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.
As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.
“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.
“Yes.”
Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.
With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.
“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”
Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.
“Good girl,” he praises.
With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.
“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”
You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.
“Bucky-“
“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.
“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”
“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”
He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.
Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.
“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.
Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.
Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.
“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.
You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.
“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”
He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.
“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.
“Bucky- I’m-“
“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.
You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.
“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”
He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.
“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”
And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.
“Do you mean that, doll?”
“What?”
“That you love me too.”
“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”
He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.
“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”
“But I decide the movie,” you say.
The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
#marvel#mcu#marvel mcu#bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky smut#bucky x reader smut#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#james bucky barnes x reader#james barnes x y/n#james barnes x you#james barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x fem reader#bucky x yn#bucky x reader fanfiction#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x female yn#bucky x f!reader
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Lend A Helping Hand
Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk need help preening
warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not
[ii]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Lilith used help… when she was around. The thought of asking someone else, much less the act itself, scorched him with guilt
• Oh well. Lucifer did it before, Heaven had rules about it, so he can do it again! And of course he did! It doesn’t mean it’s not an excruciatingly long process he puts off as long as he can tolerate
• You walk in on him attempting to strain his arms in ways they certainly shouldn’t bend. “Need some help?”
• “Pfft, who me? No, no, no I—“ He pauses. It’s like the predicament he’s been caught in settles in slowly, his smile dropping and crimson irises widening to rival a puppy’s cuteness. “Yes.” He admits meekly
• Your fingers barely touch his feathers and Lucifer jolts. Like him, his wings are so sensative
• Don’t take it personally when he tries to back out after that, cheeks bright red from embarrassment. He has six wings and can barely tolerate your touch as is. This could take a while, he already feels bad
• After a teaspoon more of convincing and a gallon of reassurance later, Lucifer sits as still as he can (which isn’t very) while you gently break open the pin feathers
• You could tease if you wanted, make a joke to try and settle his nerves but something tells you his wings aren’t the only thing that’s sensitive
• Lucifer appreciates your assistance and tenderness more than words can describe, nothing seems like a big enough gift to reward your hard work
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Usually it’s Lute that would help him (and vice versa if he feels like it) but she’s nowhere to be found. He can’t casually ask anyone else. Heaven and its inhabitants can be weird about certain shit, preening is no exception— even though everyone has wings here!
• Walking past Adam’s office, you heard a crash and a lot of swearing. “Sir, are you—?”
“Unless you’re gonna help, fuck right off!” He growls from the ground, still reaching at an awkward angle for his wings
• He’s shocked when you sit on your knees beside him and swat his hand away. “If you make this weird, I will leave.” You warn. He doesn’t dare make even a single comment
• Adam shivers when your fingers glide into his feathers. You wave it off the first time but can’t stop a laugh when it happens again
Face first into the carpet, his loud voice is muffled, “Shut! Up!”
• You take pity on him and don’t drag the process longer than necessary. Awarding yourself a final pet of his oddly soft wings, you stand up, “There. All better?”
• Rising to his feet and giving his wings an experimental stretch, he shrugs nonchalantly, “Thanks. I guess.”
• The next day, you receive a basket from Goody-2-Shoes with various snacks. The card reads, ‘Let me know when I can return the favor. Wings don’t have to be included. ~ A’
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• You know she needs help when she’s more irritable than usual. Snapping at everyone, even Adam, and flinching when her wings move in the slightest
• Approaching the subject with her is harder than anyone. As aforementioned it’s unspokenly taboo but that isn’t what stops her. Lute’s deep rooted issues with intimacy and needing help will make her walls thicker than ever
• “This is inappropriate,” Lute whispers.
In the dead of night she’s finally allowed you to assist but keeps fidgeting and surveying the area like someone will catch you two.
“It is not,” You roll your eyes, “Get your mind out of the gutter and be still! I’ll have you’ll feeling better in no time.”
• She seriously, seriously doubts that. Anything she can’t do herself, amongst certain divine exceptions, no one could do for her
• …But she’s letting you help (and your adept fingers are doing a better job) So either she doesn’t fully believe that, or you miraculously raised her expectations
• Lute decides the latter is acceptable– and a compliment, especially since you prove her wrong. Triple checking her wings, she can’t find a flaw or deny how wonderful they feel now.
• “This is adequate.”
You snort, “You could just say thanks?”
“How can I repay you?”
“I just told you.”
• She narrows her eyes, shocked and suspicious that you wouldn’t want anything. Lute, again, decides that your endeavor deserves an equal act of goodwill. Don’t take it for granted when she says, “No. I owe you one. One.”
˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• She genuinely forgets what’s wrong with her when she needs to preen. Even with her wings folded away, the irritable pricking can be felt. She’s itching the back of her neck, hand clawing under the crew of her shirt and dipping between her shoulder blades when you ask when’s the last time she checked for pin feathers
• Vaggie’s always been independent. Up in Heaven she was a bit cocky with the fact she never needed help to reach them. Now, she felt helpless and stupid. Her arms cramped up, her hair kept getting in the way and the itching only progressed
• “Can I–?”
“No.” Her ivory eyes go wide, surprised at the fury of her own voice. Sighing and avoiding your (what she assumed was a) pitiful gaze, she apologizes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I… I used to be able to do this alone.”
Pausing at how defeated Vaggie sounds, you do your best to keep a positive, neutral tone.
“Cut yourself some slack, you haven’t done this in years. And, y’know, you don’t have to do it alone now. Not if you don’t want.”
• Smiling at the offer hanging in the air but not quite accepting, she goes about her managerial duties only to knock on your door afterwards
• Vaggie’s so grateful you can’t see how dark her face becomes as you sort through her wings. They’re not sensitive, they never were– it’s something about your fingers delicately touching her that cracks her resolve. Now she starts to understand why this was seen as an intimate act upstairs
• “Thanks for…” Still blushing, she gestures to her wings before hiding them, “Thanks.”
You try to keep up with her indifference but can’t help the smile spreading across your face.
“No problem.”
• If you think she’s not replaying the moment over and over in her head for days afterwards, you’re wrong. Vaggie’s desperately waiting for the moment to be just as useful to you
˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He’s hardly a fan of Angel touching him the way he does so a solid relationship is required to unlock the level of trust needed for this activity
• The first time it happens when you’re in his life, he won’t ask but also doesn’t reject the offer. Just looks extremely hesitant and uncomfortable
• Carefully, you pinch the rough layer and eye Husk from over his shoulder
• He breathes out a laugh, “Gonna take more than that to hurt me, sugar. Go on, I’ll be fine.”
• His wings might be the least sensitive… but that could also be all that alcohol in his system
• Husk hums as you work. After he gives a big, cat-like stretch and thanks you with a tip of his hat
• The simple gesture means more than you know, he’ll never forget it
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ accidentally on purpose put them from most to least sensitive wings hehehe
big big big BIG thank you to @kottenox for the inspiration and letting me take this idea and run!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel headcanon#platonic or romantic#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar headcanon#hazbin hotel adam headcanon#hazbin hotel adam x reader#lute headcanon#lute x reader#vaggie x reader#vaggie headcanon#husker x reader#husk headcanon
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 7
Word Count ~ 3.9k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ minor mention of blood and gore, sexual content
Also available on AO3
taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
You are walking the yard surrounding your home in early August.
Francis Mosses’ doppelgänger is beside you, his fingers laced with yours as the pair of you leisurely stroll. You love mornings like this. Lazy weekends when you shut the rest of the world out. There is just this, this safe haven you’ve created, away from the city where the invaders seek to gain entry and conquer, where the humans continue to try to see past the lies standing right before them, the deceivers and pretenders like the one whose hand you’re clutching now so tenderly. Except he isn’t like the others; nothing like any of them. He is yours, and you are his. There is nothing else like this phenomenon, what you have with him.
The blackberry bushes lining the picket fence are heavy with fruit, the plump, deep black specimens dull skinned, ripe and ready to be plucked.
“So many of them,” the copycat murmurs, halting beside you as your pace slows and pauses, contemplating the sight of those heavily laden shrubs.
You nod. “My grandparents used to make jam from them. I can remember spreading it on pancakes on Sunday mornings.”
“Do you still recall how to make the jam?”
“Yes. It’s not difficult. Just a bit time consuming. A lot of prep work.”
“We have the whole day. Want to try?”
“Really? You want to?”
“It sounds pleasant.” He tugs you gently towards him. “Everything with you is.” His lips meet yours, warm as the summer sun heating you through the button front dress you’re wearing.
“We need something to gather them in.”
“Will this do?” He reaches for the fabric of your dress about halfway down the skirt portion, lifting the loose material until it forms a kind of scooped makeshift basket.
“That’s what my grandmother did with her apron. Yes, this will do.” You reach for the handfuls he’s gathered, keeping the improvised bowl in place. “Only pick the ones that are black. No purple or red, they’re not ripe. Nothing shiny. Only the dull ones. They should come off fairly easily. If you have to pull too much, they’re not ready.”
The imposter milkman follows your directions and the dip in the fabric you’re clutching is soon full. It is a little awkward walking up the porch steps, balancing the unfamiliar weight at your front. There are stains on his fingers, on your dress as you dump the gathered berries into the colander he grabs from the cupboard for you, followed by a mixing bowl, anything he can find to relieve you of your burden. Overzealous in the picking, perhaps, but you don’t mind. The excessive berries would just have gone to waste otherwise, more than even your wildlife neighbors could indulge in.
“You should get used to having extra weight around your middle,” he murmurs against your ear. Still persisting in the notion of having a baby with you. The previous month had ended with your menses. You’ve no idea if it’s even possible to create a new life with the doppelgänger. You’re still conflicted about it. Afraid for its life, for yours and Francis’. But you can imagine the face. As a toddler. Convinced somehow it would be a boy. Identical in every way to his father. A father as devoted to him as he is to you. The child clinging to your side, standing in those same fields near the house in summer, looking at the world around him with those dark eyes that are unshadowed, not yet tired like his parent’s. Soft brown hair. Human, because you won’t let yourself imagine anything else; refuse to concede that it would be part doppel as well. “I can’t wait,” he says, his arms enfolding you from behind, your hands settling on his, the quartet all resting over your abdomen.
You smile, leaning your weight against his chest for a few moments before reaching for the faucet. It was time to rinse the harvest, removing the stray leaf or stem here and there. You fill a pan with water to boil to sterilize the lids of the mason jars. There are a set of them under the sink. The glass portion needs to be similarly treated. It will be hot in the kitchen with the stovetop working so hard. You lean and lift the window behind the sink a little higher, hoping for any sign of a breeze.
“Go pick out a record to play.” A new tradition. You let your lover choose the music, discovering what he likes best. Perhaps some of Francis’ favorites. Some for the invader alone. You cherish both selections equally.
The man and the doppel themselves; that is something your conscience has struggled with for many weeks now. You think you will always love Francis. But you love the new creature inhabiting his form, too. More and more with each passing day.
The music begins and you smile to yourself. Al Bowlly. Something from two decades ago, but a timeless classic. One of the records your mother had left behind when she’d moved to the city, inherited from your grandparents. You were long overdue for a visit to your mother and father. You’d received a letter not that long ago. Still safe. It was a worry that gnawed at you. One of the reasons you’d joined the DDD in the first place. Wanting to protect your family, the people you love.
The very thought of you and I forget to do
The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do
You spread a tea towel on the counter. The jars will air dry there after you’ve finished preparing them.
I'm living in a kind of daydream and I'm happy as a king
And foolish though it may seem, why to me that's everything
“How am I meant to not want to dance with you when this is playing?” Your partner’s lips graze the nape of your neck softly, his hands on your waist.
The mere idea of you, the longing here for you
You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you
You smile again. A gesture that comes so easily when the imposter is around you. “After. You wanted to make jam, remember?”
“I want to make a lot of things,” he murmurs beside your cheek, his nose nudging aside a stray piece of hair that’s come free from where you’d pinned it up, mouth now on the patch of skin he’s cleared.
“Francis!” You giggle, playfully squirming in his arms. You aren’t really trying to get away. “I need your help. Use those muscles of yours and pulverize the berries. The potato masher is in the second drawer there.”
I see your face in every flower, your eyes in stars above
It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love
He rolls up his sleeves, beginning to crush the fruit while you gather the measuring cups and sugar.
“I know it’s equal parts berries and sugar. Three minutes to boil? And then another three after the sugar’s been added. Oh, I need the whisk, too. And one of the larger spoons to stir. Yes, that one, thank you.” Francis’ copy hands you the culinary tools you’re searching for, retrieved from the same drawer the masher had been in.
Speaking of which, he’s done a great job with the blackberries, making short work of them. For a brief second your mind teases an imagining of something far less pleasant being ground down like that, pulped human flesh, the gore that is left behind when a doppel feasts on a human. Your grip on the spoon tightens until it’s white knuckled and you force yourself to relax. You’re with him, the one that you love, that adores you. Your home. With the beautiful crooned words of longing issuing from the turntable in the background. Those horrors do not exist here. “Those look perfect. I think that’s maybe around six cups’ worth. But we’ll measure.”
Your estimate of the mixture volume proves fairly accurate. You begin stirring the berries in the stainless steel cook pot, watching the seeded dark red mixture begin to bubble, keeping an eye on the clock on the wall. The doppel is at the sink, already washing the used bowls and tools.
It’s time to add the sugar. You stir it in, once again timing your task, finally deeming the developing jam ready to be removed from the heat of the burner, switching the knob for the pilot light off as you move the pot to an unused burner.
You can feel the perspiration beading on your forehead as you whisk the heated fledgling fruit spread. Nearly there. Your strokes with the thin wired tool were releasing the natural pectin in the berries now. After that it was just a matter of filling and sealing the jars.
“What’s next? What can I do to help?” The doppelgänger asks, resting a hand on your lower back, where the heat lingers, making the dress cling damply to your skin.
“I think this is actually just about ready to start pouring.”
He turns over the mason jars that had been resting upside down over the tea towel to air dry, lining them up on the counter. You transfer small batches of the jam to a batter bowl, making it easier to fill each jar without spilling. A lot of dishes being used for this. Funny how you didn’t remember that part from childhood. Just the fun of making it with your grandmother.
The replicant screws the last of the lids on. The jam looks so inviting. You can’t wait to spread it on some toast with some butter after it’s had a day or two to set. Maybe just one day. You were really craving it now.
“It’s hot,” the imposter says, dragging a hand across his forehead. “I’m ready to head back into the tub after that.”
You like the idea of that yourself. “You should.”
“Coming with me?”
“I was hoping for an invitation.”
He kisses you and you taste the salt of his perspiration. “You look a little flushed. We definitely need to go cool down. And then heat up again.”
“Francis, you’re impossible. Go get the water running. I’ll finish cleaning up here.”
“It’ll be faster with both of us working together.”
You won’t argue with that, allowing him to assist you. Munching on some leftover blackberries as you work side by side. The last of the dishes done. Everything put away. Shutting off the record player on your way to the stairs. His hands work on the buttons of your dress after you’ve turned on the faucet to fill the tub. You loosen his belt. Shove the hem of his undershirt upward after he’s removed the outer layer. He reaches between his shoulders and pulls it free. You kiss the dip between his pectoral muscles lightly covered with dark hair. Suddenly finding yourself hungry for him.
“Should we wait on the bath for after?” he suggests.
“Yes. Definitely.” You switch the faucet off hurriedly, turning your attention back to him. He’s already entering the bedroom. The temperature in this room is hotter than it had been in the kitchen. No fresh breeze coming in through either of the windows. Just that stifling humidity. It needed to rain.
Undergarments removed. He kisses your bare shoulder, humming the song that had been playing the previous evening, when he’d met you at your front door, the start of your weekend together.
Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
You sit down on the edge of the bed. A hand rests on your thigh as he kneels down. Fingers stained from some of the berry juice, garnet and magenta smudges along cuticles and nail beds. Your hand sinks into the hair you’d trimmed recently, finding it’s already growing long again. You bend to kiss his mouth and he tastes like the fruit, like summer itself, warm and fresh and sweet.
He leans to kiss the breasts that will one day bear the nutrition to feed your child, if it was ever meant to be, sucking gently, each nipple responding to that sensation, rising and hardening, the melody of that love song still emerging all the while.
Blue Moon, you knew just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for
Then he is between your thighs, every kiss still languid, drowsy, a leisurely summer afternoon gifted in each touch of his lips on your skin. Caressing your legs, the limbs that part to receive him. Gentle kisses on those nether lips, still humming, sending little vibrations into your body.
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper, "Please adore me"
And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold
His tongue strokes your clit and you lean back slightly, hands sinking into the mattress, arms braced to either side. His hands curl around your thighs and he sups at your sex, the pace still unhurried, easing you along into pleasure. Delving into your entrance, rolling the taste of you on his tongue before sweeping through the petals back to your bud, massaging it from side to side, up and down, pausing every now and again to plant a kiss on your mound or thigh, suckling the bundle of nerve endings and then dipping back into your canal in short, gentle little thrusts, the tune nearing its end, reaching the final verses, but yours have just started, that thrumming he sends through you, deep inside, an echoing response in your core.
Blue Moon, now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
You let your weight rest on one hand so you can touch his hair again, meet the gaze of those dark eyes watching you, those depthless pools of desire you get lost in, drowning, a tide that washes you away into your release against his mouth.
You're sweating profusely now, damp inside and out as you scoot yourself back to the center of the bed, making room for your companion to join you.
There is always the little surprised sounding moan when he first enters you, as if he’s forgotten that feeling, rediscovering it each time his cock pierces your pussy. His hips roll against you in slow, lazy thrusts. He combs your damp hair back from your face, hair that has completely fallen loose, natural. He kisses your forehead and cheeks and lips, your jaw and throat and ear lobes.
“I love you,” he breathes against your neck. His voice sounds raw, full of emotion.
“I love you, Francis.” You grind up against his damp body.
His face hovers above yours. “Marry me.” You gasp as he grabs one of your thighs and rocks forward, pushing deep inside of you. “Marry me, be my wife. Stay with me always.”
Your heart pounds. To be joined with him like that. The mark on your arm only a faint pink line now. The traces of the bite completely disappeared. He wanted to put a ring on your finger. Everyone would know, then. There would be no concealing it.
“Be the mother of my children. Be mine forever.”
“Francis…”
“Please.”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“I’ll do anything to make you happy.”
“I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you add softly.
A heavy sigh as his body moves against yours, his face tucked into the crook of your neck. “My love, my only, mine.” His pelvis knocks against yours faster now. Your knees tightly embrace his ribs. Every part of skin your lips touch taste of salt. His hair is darker, saturated with sweat, the tendrils clinging damply to his forehead. A drop slides from his nose and pools between your lips. The arms bracing his weight near your face are trembling. So close to the edge of bliss.
“Love,” he gasps.
“Yes,” you answer, and he spills into you, filling your womb with his seed.
***
You sit inside the bathtub between the doppel’s legs, resting back against his chest.
“Close your eyes,” he instructs, and you obey, hearing something being lifted from that basin of water. The wash cloth, you realize, feeling the cool liquid dripping onto you hair, sliding down over your heated face. Repeating until your hair is thoroughly drenched in the bath water, his fingers slicking back those wet tresses, smoothing over your eyes, your cheeks, curling beneath your chin and lifting your face so that he can kiss you. Your eyes open and you see him smiling. “Better?”
“Much.”
“Good.” A rumble of thunder in the distance. Finally, the rain was coming. “Will we lose the power again, do you think?”
“Maybe. Wouldn’t be so terrible, though, would it? Just being here in the dark together.”
“Not at all. I have fond memories of doing that very thing.” He kisses you again and your stroke the damp cloth over his forearms. “I am going to get you a ring, you know. Propose properly.”
“I know.” You lift his left hand and kiss it. “We should tell my parents. Visit.”
“You want me to meet them?”
“Why not? They’ll be your in laws. The grandparents of your children.”
“Hmmm,” he hums. “We will need someone to watch the little ones. When it’s time to make more…”
“How many are you planning on?”
“I don’t know. There’s no specific number. I just want it. Badly.”
“I know you do. I do, too.”
“You’re still scared.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t let anyone harm you. You, or the children. However many there are.”
“I know you’ll be a good father. A good husband.”
His arms tighten around you. “You are my perfect everything.”
***
You do not lose the power that evening.
There is light for your repast at the kitchen table. Still too soon to indulge in the fruits of your earlier labors—pun intended—and neither of you want to heat up the house again using the stove, so you have a simple meal of bread, cheese, grapes, and iced tea, listening to the storm outside, this one much calmer than the last, starting to write a letter back to your parents, beginning with the exciting news of your engagement.
“Do you think your parents will like me?”
You pop a few grapes into your mouth. “Yes. My mom is very similar in personality to me. My dad maybe a little gruffer, but he’ll soften with time. Especially when he sees how well you treat me. He’d probably like it if you asked his permission first. Just as a courtesy. A formality.”
Francis’ copy slices another piece of cheddar free from the block, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. “What are you going to tell them about us, exactly?”
“Just that we met while I was working. You’re a resident in the building. The truth, you know.”
“But that’s not the whole story.”
You set your pen down. “I can’t tell them what you are. You know that.”
“Of course not. I’m just…wondering what to say. Or what not to say. How to behave.”
You lift the writing utensil again but don’t use it, merely holding it between your fingers. “Just be you.”
He looks over the top of his glass as you resume writing, neat cursive script filling the page. “Don’t forget to mention how handsome I am.”
“Hush, you.” You smirk, tossing one of the crumpled rough drafts at him and he easily catches it, returning your smile.
“And that I’m a good dancer.”
“You are a great dancer,” you concede, pausing again to tear off another piece of bread.
“We didn’t get to dance earlier.”
“We sort of did.”
His eyebrows lift. “I’ve corrupted you. That’s the sort of innuendo I’d deliver.”
“Speaking of which. No talking about wanting kids when we visit with my parents, at least not yet. They’re against premarital sex. Society doesn’t favor unwed women and it certainly doesn’t favor women who are unwed and pregnant. It’s because of the war. The need to repopulate, our purpose to create more soldiers.”
“We’re engaged, though.”
“Yes. But still not married.”
“I don’t want our children fighting in a war,” he says solemnly.
“Neither do I.” You pause, hesitating midway through writing again. “We are at war already. They’ll be born into it, just by the very nature of who they are. What they are.” You sigh, setting down the pen. The letter could wait for now. You don’t like the dark look on the features of the replicant sitting across from you.
“Come on. I owe you a dance.” You rise, reaching for the doppel’s hands and he allows himself to be tugged to his feet. “Go choose a record for us, my love.”
You clear the table while he rummages through the sleeved recordings. You leave the letter where it is. You’ll finish it in the morning, drop it off on your way to work Monday. At least there was one more day of this relaxed comfort, before you had to go back to the reality of the DDD.
You join your fiancé in the living room, positioning yourself with your dance partner, smiling as you recognize the song that starts to play.
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek
“Fred Astaire, singing to Ginger Rogers. Another classic. This song was from the musical Top Hat. A big hit on the music charts.”
The doppel is silent, his hand warm against your waist, the other clasping your hand as you step and sway in a small circle.
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And the cares that hung around me through the week
Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak
When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek
“My mom loves that movie. You’ll curry some favor if you mention it. We’ll have to watch it together. The movie house downtown plays classics on Sunday nights. I’m babbling, aren’t I?” Two more verses of the song have already passed by.
“It’s alright. I don’t mind. We should go. I’ll take you.”
“A real date.”
“Yes, a real date.”
You grin, nuzzling his jaw. “I look forward to it.”
Dance with me. I want my arms about you
The charms about you
Will carry me through to
“I like making you happy.” He draws back to look at your features. “I want your parents to like me. I know it’s important to you. It’s important to me, too.”
“They’ll love you,” you say softly. “How could they possibly not?”
“Because…”
“No.” You release his shoulder, resting a finger against his lips. “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s all that matters. I love you. You, inside of this man.” Your hand cups his cheek. “I’ve been calling you Francis all along. I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s…not something you could ever pronounce. The differences in language…”
“I’ll do my best to learn.”
“Sweetheart. Call me Francis. That’s who I am now. Your Francis. Yours.” He kisses you, and you become lost in the feel of it, in the sound of the needle of the record player tapping restlessly now that the song has finished, in the lullaby of the soft patter of the rain outside.
#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#milkman#milkman x reader#milkman x you#thats not my neighbor#doppelganger#the milkman
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fwb!heeseung
cw nsfw under cut, female reader, infidelity, jealousy, almost choking, public sex, exhibitionism, possessive!heeseung, maybe a little toxic!heeseung too, anal (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), taking pics/videos during sex (and then sending them to bf), boyfriend ends up unintentionally cucking, squirting, this is more like headcanons cause i’m lazy sorry
nsfw link
this is the type of shit heeseung would send to your boyfriend 😵💫
fwb!heeseung who starts off as a friend at a party. you don’t even really remember what led up to you being naked in his bed the next morning, but you do remember every moment of him railing you in his bed. so when he offers to continue fucking, like a fwb, you accept.
fwb!heeseung who finds himself falling in love with you as your relationship progresses, sneaking kisses when you’re not even having sex, just because he can kiss you.
fwb!heeseung who is so surprised that you suddenly have a boyfriend, who is so blindsided and hurt that he fucks you on the floor, not really caring if you got bruises in the midst.
fwb!heeseung that refuses to stop seeing you even when you end up getting a boyfriend. he pretends he’s listening when you tell him why you can’t fuck anymore, and then he’s right back to being all up in your personal space, leaving kisses scattered across your body.
fwb!heeseung doesn’t know when to stop, and he’s a very persuasive guy. it doesn’t take much for him to convince you that you two could ‘still lowkey fuck’.
fwb!heeseung who knows no boundaries, still acting the very same in front of your boyfriend. he’ll grip you by the waist, hug for a second too long, say flirty comments to you right in front of said boyfriend. your boyfriend isn’t stupid, he knows heeseung likes you, but he trusts you too much to think it’s going any further than heeseung’s ‘failed’ advances. at this point, you don’t know how your boyfriend hasn’t caught on yet.
fwb!heeseung who takes every chance he gets to fuck you, pulling you into the backseat of his car as the parking lot is completely stranded save for a few other cars. he’s too big to have car sex, but he also really doesn’t care. he doesn’t really care to keep you quiet, more so does it just to placate you, and is always egging you on to be louder. “come on, tell me who’s fucking you this good,” he chuckles breathlessly, rutting up into you as you bounce on his cock, whimpering his name and little begs for him to help. “fuck, let everyone else know.”
fwb!heeseung who takes you at every party, leaving your boyfriend downstairs alone for however long heeseung wants. he’s not letting you go until he’s done with you, that is for certain. he bends you over the bathroom sink, hand gripping your hair and forcing your back against his front, “so you can see who’s ruining you. not him, not anyone else,” you whimper as his cock hits at a specific angle, slamming against that soft spot that heeseung knows like the back of his hand by now, “me.”
fwb!heeseung who is always trying to find something on your boyfriend for you to break up with him, even coming up with the silliest accusations. “he shit himself in the eighth grade at an assembly.” “i heard he’s actually part donkey.” because really, your boyfriend is an angel, and it frustrates him that he’s seemingly perfect.
fwb!heeseung who convinces you for a quickie in between classes, in a quiet, lone hall. his hand is shoved against your mouth and nose, almost totally constricting your airway. your breaths are short, almost like a gasp for air as his hips slam into yours with his other free hand circling your clit, “you gotta be quiet, remember?” he croons, his breath heavy in your ear. “don’t want baby to find us,” he snickers, using the nickname you used for your boyfriend earlier. you blink, saying through his hand despite the spots in your vision, “who?” he grins at your response, pace quickening to reach your orgasms.
fwb!heeseung who takes advantage of the fact that your boyfriend is always at basketball practice, thankful that he’s always so busy, he doesn’t have time to take care of you. but heeseung? he does, and even if he didn’t, he’d skip it just to be with you. he always uses this against you, too. “he’s not even here to take care of you,” he hums, head between your thighs, placing small kisses on them. “what would you do if i weren’t here, hm?” before you can even answer, his mouth is already sucking on your clit.
fwb!heeseung who sends nudes to you when he knows you’re out with your boyfriend. you both know he hopes your boyfriend sees them so you can finally, completely be his. he first sends a picture of his clothed crotch, hand gripping his hardened cock, sending a ‘wyd?’ when he knows damn well what you’re doing. when you don’t respond, he sends another picture with his sweats off, his cock threatening to slip out of the waistband of his boxers. when that doesn’t get a response, he texts, ‘wish u were here :( wouldn’t have to take care of this by myself’ and another video of him palming his cock, slipping it out of his boxers and slowly starting to jerk off. he always makes sure to leave the audio on, just for you.
fwb!heeseung who always overstays his welcome at your apartment, staying for so long he either narrowly misses your boyfriend arriving or he’s still there, stuck in your closet or under your bed or wherever else he’s decided to hide this time, as your boyfriend is none the wiser. you somehow manage to sneak him out, always sending a long text that you two should finally stop. but he refuses, always convincing you with a press of his lips on yours. the thrill and his love for you is too exhilarating for him to stop.
fwb!heeseung who takes videos and pictures of you; pictures with his dick in your mouth with your eyes teary, looking up at him. pictures with him fully inside you, a bulge from his cock protruding from your lower abdomen. pictures with his cum leaking out of your hole, others with his cum on your face, your stomach, your ass, wherever. there’s pictures of him, too, head buried between your thighs. “what would your boyfriend think if i sent all of our little memories to h—him? show him the you that sluts it out for dick, so desperate for it that you fuck other men instead of your boyfriend.”
fwb!heeseung who gets tired of the back and forth shit, who decides that you must love him, too, if you allow him to fuck you without a condom, if you allow him to fuck your ass, if you allow him to cum inside you. if you’ve stuck with him this long, you have to.
fwb!heeseung who sends a video to your boyfriend while he’s at practice, no words, just the video of him fucking your ass with the audio still on with you moaning his name.
fwb!heeseung who decides just showing your boyfriend pictures and videos of you on his cock isn’t enough, still fucking you through your orgasm just as your boyfriend comes through your door. heeseung pulls you up by your neck, back against his front like so many times in a stranger’s bathroom. he squeezes, capturing your attention, “we have a visitor.” when you gasp in horror and try to get away from him, his hand tightens around your neck, making your body contort in pleasure as your airway is blocked, different colored spots appearing in your vision. your back arches against him, head thrown on his shoulder as he continues hammering into your ass. “go on, tell your boyfriend how you were never really his— you were always mine, weren’t you, baby?” he laughs, “we were literally still fucking when you got together, and we never stopped.” and your boyfriend stupidly stands there, watching in a mixture of hurt but arousal. heeseung can’t help but cruelly make fun of him, releasing his hold on your neck to force you to look at your boyfriend, “look, your boyfriend enjoys seeing you get fucked by another man, probably ‘cause he k—knows he’ll never get you like this. not like i can. tell him i’m better than him. tell him he will never know your body like i do.” you’re already shaking your head, grinding your ass back against him when he slows down. “tell him you love me.”
fwb!heeseung who is so pleased and happy when you finally scream out through your sobs that “i-i love hee—heeseung! i love you, heeseung.” and he finally lets you come, helping you out with a hand on your clit and his other hand constricting your airway. but none of you expect the gush of clear liquid wetting your lower bodies and your bed. neither of you notice when your boyfriend finally gathers himself and leaves the room to take care of his own little problem— heeseung too preoccupied with slowly pulling out of you and taking care of you, like he always does, and you too preoccupied with heeseung and coming down from your intense orgasm.
fwb!heeseung who is no longer fwb!heeseung and is now bf!heeseung, but is every bit of the menace he was before. definitely still takes you in a quiet hall, in the bathroom of a stranger’s party, in the back of his car, in your bed, in his bed. still the same heeseung, just now your boyfriend, heeseung.
#heeseung.txt#enha.txt#writing.txt#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#heeseung#lee heeseung#kpop smut
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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)
she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨
a- angst s- smut f- fluff
series
stalemate by @shina913 f s a
↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."
oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a
↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?
little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk
↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it?
sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk
↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...
after hours by @archivedkookie f s a
↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.
Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a
↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.
sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a
↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?
and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a
↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.
collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj
↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.
till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.
grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs
↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”
isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a
↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.
Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk
↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)
mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s
↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.
pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a
↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity
naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj
↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.
babydoll by @jungcock s a
↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.
eleven months by @bratkook f s a
↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.
pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.
darksided by @eoieopda f s a
↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.
three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs
↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too.
one-shot
bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s
↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?
breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s
↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”
Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a
↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.
threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj
↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.
under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a
↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?
mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj
↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.
the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a
↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
angel by @sailoryooons f s
↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences
a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f
↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}
last nite by @tayegi s a
↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan
zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a
↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie?
heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a
↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.
heavy sugar by @kinktae s
↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.
all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s
↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?
calling the shots by @chans-room f
↬ College basketball captain Yoongi
until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a
↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan. When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.
whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a
↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.
shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s
↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.
you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a
↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞
spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a
↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.
all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a
↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.
now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a
↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?
stay by sugarwithtea f s a
↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.
when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f
↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...
egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj
↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.
on the court by @centerhaechan f
↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.
sugar by @zehakoo f s
↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.
from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a
↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.
the dark by @/bratkook s
↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?
Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs
↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.
fermata by @jeongi f s
↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.
private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s
↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…
first love by @geniuslab f s a
↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.
↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library
#kiki!fic!rec#kiki's library#yoongi#yoongi fic recs#bts fic recs#bts yoongi#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi:fluff#yoongi:smut#yoongi:angst#yoongi:oneshot#yoongi:series#bts smut#yoongi series#yoongi smut#min yoongi#min yoongi fanfiction#favourites!myg#yoongi x reader#yoongi scenarios#yoongi x yn#yoongi fic#yoongi bts#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst
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Summary : After the battle with Adam, Alastor disappeared. Everyone was sure he was dead, but you knew better than that. You find him injured and vulnerable in his broken down radio tower, and decide to give him a hand with his wounds.
Tags : GenderNeutral!reader, reader is shorter than Al, soft!Alastor, sorta, fluff, lots of fluff, hurt/comfort, Alastor is losing it
Notes : My first Tumblr one shot! Hopefully this isn’t too OOC, but writing a character who hides any sign of real emotion being vulnerable is difficult. Enjoy!
Word Count : 2,418
——————
You breathed, Hell’s fiery air stinging your lungs as you looked around at the death and destruction that surrounded you. You look back over your shoulder, Charlie’s quiet sniffles taking your attention. Lucifer was knelt in front of her, his hand brushing her cheek, a weak attempt at comforting her after her life’s dream was just destroyed. You frowned, your brow creasing together as you felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, your gaze me with Angel Dust’s.
“You did good out there,” he smiles down at you, an excited squeal coming from the pig in his opposite arms. You muster a strained grin, but his fades. “Still sucks though, huh?”
You nod, dropping your grin, “Yeah, still sucks. I can’t believe it’s all gone,” you look away from the arachnid, your eyes casting over the destroyed hotel once again. Angel nods, his arm drifting around your shoulder and giving you a squeeze, the best, and really the only, form of comfort he knows how to provide.
“We’ll rebuild it,” he squeezes you again, before releasing you and approaching Charlie and the rest of the group. You follow behind, though your gaze remains astray, scanning the battleground. Looking for any sign of someone alive. You know deep down who you were looking for.
Alastor, the overlord you’d grown to call a friend.
Not everyone would consider him that, but you were an optimist. You hoped he’d consider you the same. No one in Hell would be as kind as he had been to you without considering you some sort of friend. Or, well, as kind as an overlord like him could be. And everyone was convinced he was gone, but you weren’t that naive. Alastor, if faced with death or fleeing, would flee. He was snarky and a bit egotistical, sure, but he wasn’t an idiot.
“Uhm, hey, I’m going to get see if I can find any of my stuff out here. Maybe some of it is salvageable,” you call to the rest of the group, stepping closer to the mess that used to be your home. The ground cracked beneath you as you stepped across the rubble. Charlie, who’d seemingly made her peace with the tragedy that had occurred, looked to you, rising to her feet.
“Do you want any help?”
“No, no, I got it,” you were lying to your teeth, but you had to see if he was out there. She looked at you with sympathetic eyes, walking closer and wrapping you in a tight hug. Your arms wrap around her waist, squeezing her close.
“Be careful out there, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt on anything. We’re going to go and get something to eat, try and relax a bit before we start rebuilding tomorrow. Text me when you’re done, you can meet us out there, okay?” She pulls away from you, her hands still resting on your shoulders as yours fell to your sides.
“I’ll be careful, I promise,” you assure, smiling as the taller girl pulls away from you fully, waving you goodbye as she approaches the rest of the group. You watch as they leave, before turning back to the rubble, that strained smile of yours dropping. You rubbed your cheeks. How did Alastor do that all the time?
And with that, you were off, wandering as your eyes scanned the area, reminiscing as you came across bits and pieces of the place you’d called home for the past 6 months. Broken pieces of Sir Pentious’ old machinery make your brows furrow together, a feeling that you could only describe as grief swallowing your thoughts for a brief moment, your chest tightening. You stared at that machine for a good few minutes before tearing your gaze away, trying to look at anything else.
And there it was.
A good 30 feet from you was Alastor’s radio tower. Some of the windows broken, dented, and on its side, but for the most part it was still in tact. You began to walk towards it, without much thought. He’d spent a lot of time there before you’d all started preparing for the extermination. He was insistent it was the best part of the hotel.
The closer you got, the more hesitant you became. If the trail of blood in the dirt wasn’t off putting enough, the green glow that was emitting from tower surely was. But these two things sealed one thing in your mind: Alastor was alive. Of course he was, you’d known that. But that small strand of doubt was planted in your head by the others.
You walk around the broken and dented structure, before finding that the hatch inside was already open. You drew a final breath before pulling yourself up and inside. As you heaved yourself into the tower, you were met with something hard to look at. Alastor had his back turned to you, one arm over his chest, one arm helping him hold himself upright against the control panel of the tower. His overcoat had been thrown to the floor, it was a rare sight to see him without it. You frowned, pushing off of the floor and standing. You wanted to move closer, but weren’t sure you could do so without startling the overlord. If you’d managed to get this close without him noticing, you knew he must be very deep in thought.
“Alastor?” You tried, your voice soft. Even so, Alastor’s whole body stilled, his head turning sharply to look at you, his horns and shoulders growing two times their normal size. He had a wild look in his eye, but seemed to calm as he realized it was you, his body relaxing, and returning to its original position. His expression had turned sour, despite the constant smile.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he replied, his voice hoarse as he looked away. You frowned, stepping closer, avoiding the pools of blood on the ground.
“Alastor, we thought you were dead,” your voice was back to its normal volume.
The static sound, that was nearly a constant whenever Alastor was near, seemed to grow louder as his entire body span to face you, almost as if he were going to get angry, but he stumbled, both of his hands going back and gripping the control panel behind him. Now, you could see the giant gash across his chest, blood seeped into his shirt. Your eyes trailed from the bottom of his wound, up to meet his eyes. There was something behind them that you couldn’t quite place.
There was a beat of silence before you piped up again.
“He really got you, huh?” You point out the obvious, walking closer. Alastor tried to straighten himself, only using one hand to keep himself upright as the other found its way back to covering the wound.
“It is nothing that I can’t handle,” he assured, pressing his arm closer to his body. You stopped in front of him, looking into his eyes as you placed your hand on his. He wretched away, his rear pressing fully against the control panel, his hand sliding back. “Don’t.”
“Alastor,” you began, but he cut you off.
“Perhaps you misunderstood, I am FINE,” he growls, pushing himself away and walking around you, you turn to follow him with your eyes. “He may have hit me but I’m alive. Of COURSE I am. I mean, if I weren’t what would people think?”
Your brows furrowed, “what are you talking about, Al?”
“I have been a wonder to everyone since I manifested here, if I died for the princess of Hell and her low life sinners, I would be regarded as some,” he paused, clutching his chest as he turned away from you. “Altruist.”
He spat the word like it was the worst thing to ever leave his lips.
“I would be regarded at the ‘Oh so powerful Radio Demon who DIED for a chance at a redemption that isn’t even POSSIBLE.”
You walked closer to him, placing a hesitant hand on the small of his back. He glanced over his shoulder, and your expression softened.
“Alastor, no one is expecting you to die for us. All I want from you right now is. For you to let me help you,” you searched his face for any sign of agreement, but he was nearly impossible to read. A sigh escaped him. “You’re really hurt, Al.”
“I know,” he murmured, his ears flicking back as he turned to face you. He walked back towards the control panel, you trailing behind. You assumed him accepting that he was hurt was the closest thing you’d get to him saying, ‘I need help.’
“You should sit. It’ll be easier that way,” you looked up at Alastor, who was avoiding your gaze like the plague. You assumed he was ashamed of the situation he was in. He sat on the edge of the counter, snapping his fingers. A roll of bandages and pads of gauze appearing in your hands. You sat them down on the control panel beside him.
“I could have done this on my own, my dear,” he looks down at your hands as they reach for the buttons on his shirt, gently unbuttoning the first few.
“I’m sure you could have,” you murmur, though not fully paying attention to his words. You reached the last few buttons, pulling his shirt open. You could feel your face flushing as the his undershirt slipped off of his shoulders. It was a little unbelievable that the big bad Radio Demon was allowing this, but you supposed coming face to face with a second death was enough to allow a miracle.
Bending down slightly at your waist to reach better, you take some of the gauze, pressing it firmly to his wound. Alastor took a sharp inhale, his ears shifting back further than they already had been. Your frown grew deeper as you looked up at him, your free hand taking his, gently stroking your thumb across his skin.
“Alastor? Is this okay?” Your eyes scan his face, that somehow managed to display pain all while wearing that signature smile.
“It’s fine. I don’t want to hear a word about this when you’re done,” he winced, squeezing your hand as you began to wrap the bandages around the bottom half of his wound. You rolled your eyes, nodding.
“Not like anyone would believe me. I mean, you? Hurt? Impossible, right?” You pressed another piece of gauze to him, causing his claws to dig into your skin. It didn’t break, but it stung a bit. You tried your best not to show it — however hard that was — you didn’t want him to think that this, whatever this is, wasn’t okay.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he looked down at you, his brow creasing. You both fell silent, the crackling of radio static tickling your ears. You wrapped the rest of his wound in silence, your free hand grazing down the bandages, just barely making contact.
“You know,” you start, rising to your normal posture, finally removing your hand from his. “Letting someone help you doesn’t make you any less powerful.”
Another beat of silence as you grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it back up over his shoulders. His hands, in one swift motion, grabbed yours and pulled you between his legs, closer to his chest. You looked up at him, your eyes widening as they met his. Just inches away from your own was The Radio Demon’s face. His eyes were pitch black, red radio dials replacing his pupils. His neck was contorted, smile stretched further than you imagined could be comfortable.
“You. Don’t. Understand,” he growled, his breath hot against your face. You tried your best to remain composed, not looking away from him as his grip on you tightened. “You are not ME. You could not possibly imagine the position I am in because of that DAMNED hotel.”
“You’re right.”
Alastor’s grip loosened immensely, his neck snapping back to be in it’s anatomically correct shape. His eyes fluttered a few times before returning to normal, he looked almost confused by your agreement. He stayed silent, even his static flushing to barely a hum.
“Alastor, I don’t know what it’s like in your shoes right now. But if you ever wanted to TELL me what it’s like, I’d be here to listen,” you, gently, squeezed his hands in yours. Alastor’s eyes scanned every inch of your face, over and over and over. Looking for any sign that you were going to use this vulnerability against him. To hurt him. To knock him down from the tower he’d built for himself. But there was none. Your expression held nothing but genuineness.
He briefly considered telling you everything that was troubling him, briefly thought about scaring you away so he didn’t have to face you, and though still brief, his thoughts lingered on the consideration of pulling you closer and thanking you for treating him like he wasn’t the monster he knew he truly was. But he did none of those things. He didn’t have time to unbox what all of those thoughts said about him. He just smiled down at you, a real smile, his left hand caressing your face.
“Thank you for helping me, my dearest,” Alastor’s voice had returned to its normal chipper tone, but it didn’t seem as fake as usual. Not when it was directed at you. A grin of your own blossomed across your face as you placed your hand on his, leaning your cheek into his hand. You turned you face a bit, placing your lips against his palm for a short moment, all while never breaking eye contact. If you didn’t know better, you’d of sworn a light blush crossed Alastor’s cheeks.
“Anytime, Al.”
Alastor cleared his throat, his ears flicking back into an upright position as he pulled his hands away from you and pushed himself up and off of the control panel. He straightened his posture re-buttoning his bloody and tethered undershirt. You quickly grabbed his overcoat so he wouldn’t try to bend over and grab it himself, and ushered back over to him. He took it from your arms, putting it on and dusting it off as if that would mend its holes and cleanse it of the blood that stained it.
“Well, I should be going now,” Alastor approached you, taking your hand for a final time and placing a kiss to your knuckles. “You are truly a diamond in the rough, darling. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Wait, where are you—” but before you could complete that question, he disappeared in a flash of green light and dark smoke. You blinked, your face flushing as you recalled what had just happened. You were almost unsure it was real.
You’d have to tell Charlie the new hotel was going to need a radio tower.
#fanfic#alastor#writing#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin angel dust#hazbin charlie#hazbin lucifer#hazbin sir pentious#hazbin vaggie#hazbin husk#hazbin fanfic#alastor x reader#alastor x you#comfort#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#rockettothestars222
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