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Free Use Jail Cell, Extra
Dinner date with Minho
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | Dinner date with Minho
Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader
Premise: A continuation of the free use jail cell series.
Word Count: this installment 4.3k approx.
Chapter Summary: You are free from the ot8 free use jail, Minho helps you out and then asks you over for dinner.
CW below the cut.
This is also in response to this ask here.
CW: masturbation with sex toys, video sex, spanking, vaginal penetration with an object, oral sex (m rec), vaginal sex (unprotected), restraints, stretch kink (because I'm obsessed).
After heâs finished kissing you and watching you drive away, Minho heads back into the police station. He feels giddy, like a school boy whoâs just had his first kiss. It's a feeling he hasnât felt in a long time and he is both excited and fearful of it. Usually, when things start off this good, they inevitably end in disaster. But you know what heâs like when it comes to sex, and you werenât scared off. Thatâs one fundamental difference from his past partners.
âWhy the fuck are you smirking like that?â Says Jeongin looking up from his seat in the Chiefâs office.Â
Everyone is sitting around the coffee table as Chan had gathered everyone for a meeting before going home.
âNot sure what youâre talking about?â Minho grunts, taking a seat next to Jisung, and trying to act like he didnât just have the most delicious kiss of his life.
 Chan looks at him suspiciously.
âYeah, youâve been a little weird ever since you and Seungmin âinterrogatedâ her.â Hyunjin adds.
âYeah, man. And what was that back in the gang bang?â Changbin joins in.
âThe fuck you talking about?â Growls Minho.
âGees, someoneâs sensitive.â Hyunjin mumbles.
âIâm talking about how soft you were with her. You barely said a fucking word, then you fucked her so⊠so gently. That wasnât in her request list.â Changbin replies.
Everyone turns to MInho and he feels the cogs in their heads turning.Â
âWell, Minho is good at picking up what people need, especially without them saying anything.â Offers Felix.
âThatâs right.â Reiterates Chan sternly, staring directly at Minho.
Minho shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling caught out.
âFine. I just think he was a little too soft, that's all.â Changbin grumbles, settling back into his seat.
âOkay, boys.â Chan claps, signaling itâs time to move on. âI know weâve only just finished our contract with Y/n, but I wanted to take the opportunity to discuss our next client and their requests.âÂ
But Minho is barely listening. His mind keeps going back to you. Back to the way your lips felt against his own. The way your tongue sought his. The way you hooked a leg over his arm, seeking friction against your sweet little pussy. Fuck. Focus.
âSo we have several women requesting two of us at once, and a couple are just after one. I thought we could divvy up the contracts and conduct them over the same few days.â
Everyone nods in agreement. It makes sense, that way if another client seeks five or six of them then they will have availability.Â
âOkay. The first is a request for two doctors. I think Seungmin and Jeongin would be good for that, yes?â He looks up at the pair and they both nod. Neither of them are new to that role. âThen a request for a fae themed scenario. Iâm thinking we could use that cabin in the woods, the one we used for the kidnapping one, yeah? Felix, I think youâd be perfect.â
âNo worries. Iâll get the place ready, and Iâm pretty sure I saw the perfect costume online.â He makes a note on his phone to follow up.
âGood, make sure it can be sent express post. Um, a vampire request. Hyunjin?â he looks up at him and Hyunjin nods in acceptance.Â
âThen thereâs this one I quote âthreesome where one guy is in me and another guy in him.ââ
âOoo ooo me!â Jisung raises his hand enthusiastically, almost jumping out of his seat.
âAlright, Jisung. Who else is happy to assist?â
Jisung turns to Minho. âPlease, hyung!!! Be my partner!â He bats his eyelids at him.
âFine.â Minho rolls his eyes. Actually he is secretly glad he doesât have to directly fuck another woman so soon after you.
âYes!â Jisung fist pumps the air.
âLastly, a personal trainer fantasy. Bin, you and I can take that one. Okay, everyone will receive emails with the full details, so make sure you read them thoroughly, and converse with your partner if you have one. Good job, boys. Enjoy your time off, and see you soon.â
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I wonder if she likes cats? Minho is still thinking about you when he lets himself into his apartment and is greeted by his fur baby. âHey, Soonie,â he says, squatting down and patting his cat. âYou miss me, huh? Itâs okay, Daddyâs home now.âÂ
He potters around his apartment, putting on a load of clothes washing, vacuuming, and then cooking himself a meal. All while trying not to look at his phone where he now has your phone number he stole from your file.Â
At some point while heâs cooking, he finds his phone in his hand and is staring at the number.
Is it too soon to call you? Of course it is. What kind of desperate fool are you?
He sighs and locks his phone, setting it back on the countertop and resumes stirring his pot of sauce. Maybe he could ask you over for a meal? His eyes drift back to his phone. Stop. No. Fuck. You are driving him crazy. He shuts his phone away in a kitchen drawer and goes to eat his dinner.
After successfully ignoring the strong pull coming from the kitchen drawer, Minho takes a shower, rubs one out to the thought of you on the interrogation table, then settles down on his couch to open his laptop.
He sighs and rubs his eyes, willing himself to focus, while Soonie decides it's the perfect time for pats. âWhat a cute little pussy, hmm.â Minho coos as it tries to climb onto his laptop as he reads the notes for his upcoming threesome. But itâs not long until his eyes drift towards his kitchen, to where his phone is still sitting in the drawer.
âFuck itâ. He says, sliding out from under his cat. He canât think of anything else but messaging or calling you. He canât focus on this next assignment. Fuck, he could barely think about his dinner without his mind drifting off to wondering how your sweet cunt would taste.
He doesnât care if he looks desperate. Fuck, he is desperate. He opens the drawer and pulls out his phone, and after taking a deep, grounding breath, he dials your number.
>>>>>>>>>>>>
âResisted arrest. Force required to detain the suspect. However, once handcuffed she was extremely enthusiastic to obey. Her mouth was very skilled and cunt was cooperative.â - Changbin
âI will be keeping an eye on her to ensure she is arrested and questioned for any criminal activity she becomes involved in.â - Minho
âThe suspect was easily coerced into double penetration, climaxing multiple times. She was displeased when we removed our penises from her to restrain her to the ceiling chains, but settled once we were back inside her.
The suspect is the most responsive we have encountered so far, and is definitely a favorite.â - Hyunjin
âHow we ended up with the prettiest suspect in the world I will never know! Her pussy is the most perfect I have ever felt. So tight, warm and soaking wet.â Han
âCONCERNS: Detective Lee Minho.â - Chan
âFucking hell.â You whistle low, closing the police report. âChief Chan is concerned with Minho?â you mumble to yourself. Was he not acting his usual self with you? Did the Chi-, Chan, know about the kiss?
You have done absolutely nothing since arriving home from the police station several hours ago. Except for looking through your file and reliving all those beautiful cocks that filled you up perfectly. Youâre still buzzing from the entire experience, and youâre not quite ready to come back to reality.Â
You flick to the photos Felix took of you. He was right, they are beautiful. Erotic even. You bite your lip as your eyes run over your bruises, bites marks, and injuries. You feel a pulsing sensation in your core. You need to touch yourself. Already? You say to your pussy, looking down in disbelief.
You gather all the items you need - a vibrating anal plug, lube, and your thickest dildo, and climb into bed. You moan when you press a lubed finger to your ass. As usual, it doesnât take long until youâve slipped a finger inside, preparing yourself to take the plug. Once you deem yourself ready, you push the plug inside and turn on the vibrator. Your breath quickens as the stretch, fullness and vibrations combined begin to send you feral.
You play with your clit. Rough, fast motions, all while your mind visualizes the photographs Felix took. Youâre going to come hard and fast, but you want to prolong it. You slow your fingers right down to rubbing lazy circles on your clit, allowing your body to calm down.
You reach for the dildo and drench it in lube. Not that you need it, your pussy is absolutely dripping in arousal. You open your legs wider and push the dildo deep into your vagina. You cry out at the intrusion, your walls barely having time to adjust before youâre pulling it out and ramming it back inside you. Again, harder. You whimper from the pleasure-pain. You reach behind you and increase the speed of the anal vibrator, then you start to tug on it, stretching your anus slightly.
âFuck!â You moan, feeling yourself about to climax. âClose. So fucking close.â You babble to yourself. Youâre almost there. The point of no return. Your body tenses, your legs shake.
Your phone rings.
Your eyes shoot open and you grab your phone. Minho! A video call? Fuck. You scramble to sit up, fix your hair, and forgetting you are naked, you answer the phone.
Minhoâs eyes almost pop out of his head, but he recovers quickly. âNice tits, kitten.â He smirks.
Your arm quickly comes to cover yourself.Â
âHey, itâs not like I havenât seen absolutely everything.â He teases. âAnyway, I hope I didnât catch you at a bad time - actually, what are you doing? Youâre all flushed.â His eyes narrow.
âNothing!â You squeak.Â
âI donât believe you.â he quips.
âOkay, fine I was masturbating.â You roll your eyes.
âReally? Already? Arenât you sore?âÂ
âNope. I'm fine.â
âShow me.â
âWhat?â You say shocked.
âI said show me.â He repeats seriously.
Nervously, You position the camera so he can see how wet you are.
âFuck! Youâve got a plug in. Have you come yet?â He says in disbelief.
âNope. Was almost there when you called. Itâs like you knew.â You pouted.
âOh kitten. Fuck. Such a good girl waiting for me before coming. Or is it you canât come without me, hmm?â
âSâhard to come without someone watching.â You sulk, playing along.
âFuck! Lucky I called. Go on. Play with yourself.â
You start to rub your clit again. Every so often you dip your fingers inside you to gather some wetness then bring it up to your clit.
âHave you got something you can fuck yourself with?â Minho says in a deep voice.Â
You reach for your thick dildo and resume fucking yourself like you were doing earlier.
âDeeper. Wanna see you take it deeper.â Minho instructs.Â
You want to obey, be a good girl for him, so you push the dildo in further so it hits your cervix on every thrust. âNeed to come, Minho. Need to come.â You cry, thrusting into yourself frantically. âSâclose..â
âI can hear how wet you are, kitten. Thatâs it, rub your clit. Good girl. I want you to imagine thatâs me inside you.â
âOh, God. Oh, fuck!â You whimper. âLet me come.â
âScream for me, y/n.â
You explode into a million pieces, screaming, just as Minho demanded. Your body shakes for what feels like an eternity as waves upon waves of pleasure wash over you.
Eventually, you collapse on your mattress in exhaustion, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try and catch your breath.
âFuck. You alright?â Minho laughs softly.
âNo.â You choke. âSo intense.â
âWell, glad I got to see that. Luckily I called when I did.â
âWhy did you call?â You pick up your phone so you can look at him.
He runs his hands through his hair. âOh yeah. So, um, the reason I actually called was to see if you maybe wanted to come over for dinner one night?â
Youâre taken by surprise. Minho wants to have dinner with you?
âI mean, itâs okay if you donât. Itâs probably not wh-â
âIâd love to.â You smile.
âYeah?â He says in disbelief.
âYeah.â
>>>>>>
âThis looks delicious, Minho. You have lots of skills it seems.â You say grinning at the plate of pasta and bolognese in front of you. Your eyes almost roll back into your head when you take a bite. âOh my god. This is fucking amazing!â you say with a mouthful of food. âDid you make the pasta from scratch?â
Minho smiles triumphantly. âYes. The sauce too. Glad you like it.â
âItâs delicious.â You grin and try your best to not scoff the entire plate down in one mouthful.Â
âYou look beautiful tonight.â He says gazing at you. You feel a heat flush over you. You arenât particularly dressed up, opting for a nice top and denim shorts. You hoped it would be suitable enough for the occasion.
âThank you. I think itâs the first time youâve seen me in clothing?â You laugh. âYou look good too.â You notice his cheeks flush a little.
âSo,â You put your fork down. âHow is it you came to be in yourâŠumâŠprofession?â You ask curiously.
Minho sits back in his chair, and pauses in thought. âWell, Chan started the business with Jisung - Han - and Changbin. Business grew quicker than they expected and so they needed to hire more staff.â
âInteresting. But what made you join?â You lean your elbows on the table, resting your chin in your hands. Youâre curious to know more.
âHmm. I suppose I thought it would make life easier, sexually speaking. Itâs hard to find a partner that wants both a sex life like mine and also a sickly sweet romantic dynamic. It was too confusing for my previous partners. The ones I could see myself having a future with were put off by my tendencies. So I joined the group and got my satisfaction there. And itâs thrilling to please clientâs who share similar desires. It really is.â
âBut what about the sickly sweet romance? You donât get that in the job.â
Minho shrugs. âI guess not. But at least I donât keep being rejected by women this way.â
You canât believe how anyone could reject Minho. He is kind and thoughtful. Very domesticated. You look around at his tidy home and then at the meal on your plate. But you get what he means. You know it too well.
âSo have you got your next contract?â You ask, wiggling your eyebrows.
He cracks a huge grin. âYeah. I do.â
âWell? What is it? What do you have to do?â Your eyes widen with enthusiasm.
âHey, hey, Kitten.â He holds his hands up in a bid to calm you down. âThatâs confidential.â
âOh come on, itâs not like I know them. Please.â You bat your eyelids.
âOkay, fine. Itâs a threesome.â he concedes.
âA threesome? Yes, go ahead. Tell me more..â You gesture for him to continue.
âThe exact wording of the brief is âI want someone in me, and someone inside him.â Okay maybe that wasnât the exact wording, but you get the gist.â
Your mouth hangs open in excitement. âSo youâre telling meââ
âJisungâs going to be in the clientâs vagina, and I am going to be in Jisungâs ass.â He states.
âWoah! So you guys fuck each other too?â You shriek.
âSometimes.âÂ
âWait! I couldâve asked for you to fuck each other? Oh man, no one told me that.â You sit back and scowl.
âWell, youâll have to book us again.â He teases.
âI just might. So who have you fucked in the group?â You ask excitedly, taking another mouthful of pasta.
âJisung, a few times. Chan too.â He says matter of fact.
âChan?! No way! Has anyone fucked you?â You say with your mouth full.
âChan. Seungmin.â
âSeungmin?â You almost choke.
âIt was an experience. Although you know perfectly well how he likes to fuck an ass.â
You nod laughing, then falling quiet as the image of Seungmin inside Minho flashes through your mind. Jisung too. Heâd look so pretty being ruined by Minho.
âAre you okay?â He asks, trying to meet your gaze.
âYeah. Just trying to work out my next fantasy request for you guys. I quite like the idea of someone in me, someone in them, another in my mouth, then everyone else inside each other.â
âDo you now? I might have to keep a mental note of that.â Minhoâs eyes sparkle deviously.
>>>>
âThat really was a delicious meal, Minho. Thank you for cooking.â You say placing your empty plate by the sink. âWould you like me to lend a hand washing up?â You start looking for dishwashing detergent and sponges.
Minhoâs arms wrap around you from behind and he nuzzles his mouth into your neck. You smile at the warm gesture.Â
âIâd like you to lend a hand with something else.â He whispers against your ear. âBut first.â He spins you around and presses your back against the bench. âIâve been dying to kiss these lips all night.â he smashes down on you in a heated kiss, setting your insides on fire.
He pulls back to peel your top off over your head and throws it to the side. Then heâs unclasping your bra with skilled fingers, and thatâs gone from your body in a matter of moments.
You suck in a breath as he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, nipping at it rough and urgently. Your head lolls back and you sigh. Your hands find the top of his head, weaving your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. He bites down hard on your nipple and you whimper. Your core throbs for more of his roughness.
He comes up for air, a smear of blood across his lip, and kisses you wildly. âTurn around.â He growls, turning you so youâre facing away from him. Reaching into a drawer, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and tugs on your arms so they are above your head. He threads the cuffs through the overhead cupboard handle and attaches them to your wrists. You tug on the restraints, but they are extremely secure, and now you are at the mercy of Detective Minho.
âLook at you.â He whispers as he cups a breast and squeezes it. âLooks like you need questioning again, hmm?â he snarls and your cunt squeezes.
Silently, he moves to the pantry, scanning the shelves. He nods when he finds what heâs looking for, a bottle of fractionated coconut oil. He takes it from the shelf and returns to resume his interrogation.
He sets the bottle of oil on the countertop and crouches behind you to yank your shorts and panties down your legs. He guides you step out of them. Leaving you naked and chained to his kitchen cupboard.Â
You poke your ass out as he slides his palms up the backs of your thighs, finding their grip on your cheeks and spreading you wide. Youâre dripping wet. You know it. You can feel it, and the grunt that Minho emits tells you he knows you're soaking. The need for him to touch you is too great and you make some pathetic noise. But he simply stands back up, leaving your deprived pussy untouched.
He reaches into the kitchen drawer again, pulling out a silicone spatula and places that next to the oil. Then to your delight he strips off his own clothes so he is naked too. You lick your lips and take in the magnificent form that is Lee Minho.
âOh you like that, hmm? Too bad youâre unable to touch me.â He smirks as he unscrews the bottle of coconut oil and applies some to his hands.
You moan as he runs his oiled hands down your back and over your ass, then whimper as he kneads the skin near your hips. He repeats the motion, slicking up your body with the oil and massaging your breasts and eventually your pussy.Â
âFuck! Yes. Min. God.â You choke when he slides a finger inside you. You grind back against him, only for him to remove his hand and leave you empty. Your eyes follow his hand as it grasps the handle of the spatula, then you feel him dragging it down your spine.
Slap!
He hits you hard on your ass. You moan, digging your teeth into your lip.Â
He gently strokes you with the spatula to sooth the skin, then he pulls it back.
Slap!
He massages the red skin with his free hand.Â
âGod, so fucking red. So pretty.â
Slap!
You cry out louder, the sting so much more harsh than the last.
And again. Slap!Â
You whimper, your legs feeling like jelly.
Minho is about to land another blow when a voice from the living room interrupts you.
You both freeze.
âHey, Hyung? I had an idea for our â Woah!â Jisung stops in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. âOh fuck Iâm sorry! I didnât realizeâŠwait⊠Y/n? Is that you?â His eyes narrow as you turn your head sheepishly.Â
âHi Han, Jisung? Can I call you that?â You smile, like nothing is happening.
Jusung blinks rapidly. Then he looks at Minho who is standing in the middle of the kitchen naked and outraged, and then back at you. Finally his gaze settles on your bright red bottom.
âYah!â Yells Minho, throwing a tea towel over your rear end to try to offer some sort of coverage.
âHyung, Man, itâs not like I havenât seen all of her before. Hey! Actually, what is she doing here?â Jisungâs tone turns accusatory.
Minho glares at him. Itâs all it takes for Jisung to concede. He throws his hands up âOkay, Iâm leaving. Even though it looks like a lot of fun and⊠you know I could sit on the floor underneath her⊠suck her clit while you continue doing your dominant thing⊠No? Okay. Well. Iâll go. Bye Y/n.â He waves at you.Â
âBye, Jisung. Lovely to see you again.â You wink at him and the tea towel slips off, giving the stunned man a last view of you before Minho is ushering him out.
âYou did that on purpose, kitten.â He growls, returning to the kitchen and pulling your head back by your hair. âBet you wanted me to let him stay, huh?âÂ
âNoâŠof course not. Just want you.â You whine. The reality though, is that you would have loved to feel Jisungâs mouth against your pussy. You close your eyes at the thought and squeeze your legs together.
Minho notices it and scoffs. âI know youâre lying. Which means⊠punishment.â
Once again he goes to the kitchen draw, this time taking out a wooden spoon and silicone coated tongs. Your eyes widen.Â
âFive. Youâll receive five strikes with the wooden spoon. If you say orange or red, I stop immediately.â He gives his hand an experimental slap with the item. âThen,â he picks up the tongs, holding them in the air and letting them spring open.
You cunt clenches. The fact that Minho remembers you have a stretch kink makes your heart beat faster. Â
He makes his way behind you and you prepare yourself for the wooden spoon.
âYou have to count for me.â He states.
He brings the wooden spoon down onto your already sore ass with a hard slap. Your legs almost give way. âOne.â you cry.
He strikes you again and again. A loud slap fills the room each time the wood makes contact with your skin. Tears stream down your face and you can barely count, each number coming out like a choked sob.Â
âF-five.â You cry out the final number.
Minho returns the wooden spoon to the bench, then holds you in his arms. His hard, naked body against yours is comforting, his words of praise are soothing.
âGood girl. You took that so well.â He whispers, kissing your shoulder and massaging where heâd spanked you. âHow was it? Not too much?â he checks in with you. âHow are you feeling?â
âSâgood..SâwetâŠAchingâŠp-pussy needs filling up. Need to come.â you babble.
Minho chuckles, his eyes smiling with admiration. âIâll make sure youâre taken care of. One last thing before I fuck you. I know you can take it.â
He drizzles the end of the tongs with oil, then crouches down behind you. He holds the tongs closed and runs them through your glistening labia. You let out a moan. Then he catches your clit. He allows the tongs to open just enough so can capture it, pinching it hard.Â
Jolts of arousal shoot through you and you cry out.
Then you feel the tongs at your entrance and you automatically push your ass out further, giving Minho more access. Keeping the tongs closed, he slides them inside you. You must look so filthy with a pair of kitchen utensils shoved up your vagina.Â
Heâs not gentle when he fucks you with them. Heâs messy, sloppy, rough, but he manages to find your g-spot every time. Youâre surely about to come, but he slows down, bringing the tongs to a standstill. You whimper, frustrated from having your orgasm stolen from you. Then you feel it. The tongs opening inside you.Â
âFuck! Fuck! Fuck!â You cry.
âColor?â
âGreen. Fucking green.â You scream.
He chuckles as he scissors you open.Â
âFuck.â He hisses. His free hand spreads your cheek wide. âPussyâs so good when itâs stretched like this.â
âMaybe you shouldâve been a doctor.â You pant.
âSometimes I am darlinâ. You wait till I use a real speculum on this pretty cunt. Open you right up so I can see inside.â
His fingers land on your clit. The added sensation has you on the verge of release. âMinho⊠please. Need to come.â You beg.
âYeah? Pussy needs to come, huh? Do it.â He starts an onslaught of scissoring then thrusting, while his deft fingers on your clit tighten that coil inside you.
You're perspiring, shaking, sobbing as youâre thrown off the precipice in an earth shattering orgasm.
âThatâs it. Making a mess for me. Mmm⊠can hardly move these tongs youâre gripping so tight.â
You canât even respond, your panting and shivering so hard, barely able to stand.
He eases the utensil out of you, tossing them into the kitchen sink, along with the items he used to cook for you earlier, then heâs lining himself up to your entrance.
âJust relax for me. Yes⊠fuck yes⊠thatâs my girl⊠let me inâŠâ he pushes himself all the way inside you. You welcome the smooth silky hardness against your walls, and he slides in and out with ease, despite your tight grip on him.Â
Holding onto your hips he fucks into you harder until heâs built up a brutal pace that reminds you of when you were in the interrogation room. Except this time, he leans his body against your back and massages your breasts, caresses your stomach, and plants hot wet kisses anywhere his mouth can reach.
The roughness and the softness combined sends all sorts of unfamiliar feelings through your body. You like it, it feels good, and you feel tears pricking your eyes. Youâre going to come again. Any second now the tension is going to snap.
âYou take me so well, Kitten. It's like you were made for me.â
That does it. You come hard around his cock with a loud wailing sound. He fucks you through it, chasing his own orgasm. âGonna fill you. Gonna fill this perfect little cunt. My cunt.â He slams into you, almost knocking you off your feet then pulls out. He quickly works on freeing your wrists, turning you and lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he impales you on his cock, fucking you whilst he makes his way to the dining table.
He lays you down on the table, and starts to slam into you hard again. His rhythm is hard, fast, and so so deep. âGonna fill you..â he growls as he throws his head back and empties himself inside you. He stills, but you can still feel him pulsing and filling you to the brim.
He leans over you, collapsing on your chest, and you bring your arms around him, holding him silently for a few minutes.
âLetâs go wash you.â He says eventually, pulling himself out, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom.
Once the temperature of the water is comfortable, he helps you climb in with him and proceeds to wash your body.
It isnât long until youâve regained your composure and are able to stand steady on your feet. Itâs only now that you can take in the man before you. You take the sponge from him, lather it up with body wash and start to wash his body. With a look of surprise and a hint of hesitation, he lets out an exhale and allows you to wash him.
He watches you as you run the sponge over his chest, down his torso, and drop to your knees in front of him. You swear you hear him whimper when your eyes land on his cock.
You drop the sponge and place your hands on his strong thighs. You need him in your mouth. He cups your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, and through hooded eyelids you silently seek permission to take care of him. He releases your chin and lets out a shaky breath when you wrap your hand around the base of his semi erect cock. Slowly, you lick the length of the underside. Then swirl your tongue around the tip. He grows rapidly, and it has you dying to choke on it.
Minho simply stands still while you work his cock, providing absolutely no help. But that doesnât deter you. Or slow you down. You decide youâre going to choke on him all by yourself. You pop off with a plop, fill your lungs with air, then take him fully into your mouth. Cupping his delicious ass cheeks with your hands, you pull him towards you while you bob your head up and down his shaft.Â
You hear his breath become heavier, and a hand wraps around your wet hair, his other he rests against the tiled wall behind you.Â
âLook at you. So hungry for cock, youâre choking yourself.â He purrs. âIâm close⊠fuck, im so close.â His hips begin to press forwards, pushing his dick further into your throat. He cums quickly, spurting thick ropes cum into your mouth. âHoly shit!â He chokes as he empties himself.
After youâve milked him of every drop and swallowed him down, he pulls you back to your feet. He looks almost bewildered when he looks into your eyes. âY/n. How are you so perfect for me?â He whispers.Â
You swallow hard. Youâre thinking something similar about him. Instead, you shrug. âWell Iâm not sure detective. Maybe youâll have to investigate further?â you quip.
He chuckles. âMaybe it's better to just go with it and not question it.â
You nod in agreement. âLetâs not overthink it, then.â
You both dry off, and Minho leads you to his bed, a big King size bed with black sheets and a black quilt.Â
âOh, youâre not sending me on my way?â You tease.
âFuck no. I needâŠneed to hold you.â He says softly, pulling you onto the bed with him.
He falls asleep quickly with his arms around you and your head on his chest. His steady breath is soothing as his chest rises and falls. Youâre not sure what is happening, how this man seems to be able to fill so many of your needs, or how easy he is to be around. Yet here you are, and youâre thankful you took a chance with the sex fantasy agency.Â
Your thoughts shift to Minhoâs next assignment. Jisung in some womanâs cunt, and Minho in Jisung. Fuck, that sounds like a dream. Then your mind goes to Jisung walking in on you and Minho earlier. What would have happened if Minho asked him to stay?
You sigh, feeling confused. You've got strong feelings for Minho, yet you feel yourself grow wet at the thought of Jisung, and the rest of them.
You find Minhoâs hand and thread your fingers through his. Thatâll be a problem for future you. Right now youâre ready to fall asleep in the arms of someone that finally accepts you for who you are.
>>>>>>
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife @delulustardust @eastjonowhere
@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @lunearta @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @jiwoos-babygirl @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @courtnort455 @brimarie0512
@iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @favieeerrrr @courtnort455 @brimarie0512 @stanskzot8 @dwaekkicidal @kibs-and-bits @txa-r @minh0scat @the-sweet-rose @chrizzztopherbang @velvetmoonlght @youcanstayyeah @skzswife @stephanieeeyang @teddy-stay @hwithnia @kibs-and-bits @sssstarlost @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ihrtlino @galaxy4489
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me when one character carries a terrible weight on them that they feel the need to hide and bare on their own and they are forced to be with another character who is so terribly devoted to them to the point of destroying themselves to be of service
#AND it usually ends in disaster for them both#oughg i love it#favorite ship dynamic#hmm letâs see who fits#frodo x sam#gideon x harrow#arthur x john#thorin x bilbo#jon x martin#rin and kitay#andrew if youâre seeing this. this is why sam is my favorite#this is why i love him so much#i loovvveeeee characters with unending devotion to the point of following the person they care about into actual hell#if it means staying by their side#like. i made a promise to stay with you no matter what and i mean it. im not leaving you now#it kills me. every time.#i understand that throin and bilbo donât fit perfectly#but the unending devotion is there#and it works with the gold sickness. so HA#anyways#trips#ship dynamics#me rambling#andrew also i know you love thorin dog comparisons i dont think i ever showed you the ones comparing gideon to a dog#itâs insane#idk if iâll be able to find the exact posts again. but they exist
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Juno - JJ Maybank
(one-shot, boyfriend!jj x reader, 4.1k words)
summary: You've built a beautiful little life with JJ, but his wild past and your trust issues keep you guarded. When a storm hits the island, you gain the perspective you need to take the next step.
content: fluff/smut, mentions of drinking and smoking. 18+ minors do not interact
When you met JJ, he was wild. Smoking, drinking, surfing - it was all he knew. You were new to the island and attending your first party at the Boneyard when he saw you standing by the keg, laughing with some friends, and his world turned upside down.
From that day on, he asked you out every time he saw you, relentlessly flirting with you. But you had heard about his reputation before your boxes were even unpacked, and you were far too cautious of a person to jump into something with someone like him quickly.
âYou donât give up, do you, Maybank?â You asked him about a year in, after he begged you to leave a party with him for the hundredth time.
âUsually I do, actually,â he leaned in so you could feel his warm breath against your lips, your heart rate spiking. âJust never wanted anything this bad.â
After that night, he had you. When you were a little older and out of school, and after months of begging from JJ, you moved in with him. You rented a little house on The Cut together, it wasnât anything impressive, falling apart inside and outside, but with you waitressing and him working hourly for a landscaping service, it was all you could afford.
You had never been so anxious about anything as you were to move in with JJ. Your own parents were a disaster, your dad leaving before you could walk, and you grew up watching your motherâs revolving door of deadbeat men disappoint her over and over. Even though you knew JJ was infinitely better than even the best of those men, you had trust issues you couldnât shake. You didnât tell JJ about your concerns, not wanting him to take them personally, but he noticed the way youâd toss and turn in your shared bed, twisting your hair in your fingers with worry.Â
He swore to himself heâd never let you down the way those other men did. He worked his way up at the landscaping business until he was a manager. Eventually, after giving up partying so you could both pick up a few extra shifts, you had made enough combined to put a deposit down and buy the house you shared. You both picked up second jobs at the Island Club, youâd bartend while he parked cars. When you got home each night, youâd pool your tips, counting them before adding them to the glass jar labeled âDream House.â On the rare occasion you both had a day off, youâd sit in a lawn chair and keep him company while he fixed the roof, or lay on the bathroom floor while he installed the big claw-foot tub youâd wanted since you were a little girl. Bit by bit, he turned what you loving called The Shitshack into your Dream House.
Even though you were both exhausted at the end of every day, you always made time for each other. Youâd split a $5 bottle of wine while playing Uno on the living room floor. Or youâd cook his favorite meals for him while he sat at the counter, your dutiful taste tester. After particularly rough shifts, youâd take a bath, JJ leaning back into you as you rubbed his shoulders and he massaged your calves and feet.Â
Those nights would always lead to the two of you tangled up in your bed, or the shower, or on the floor. The beauty of owning your own home was that there was not one place - or position - you hadnât tried. When you were first together, you had to talk JJ through pleasuring you, no girl ever being as honest with him as you were. He made you promise youâd never fake it with him, and you didnât, patiently telling and showing him exactly what you wanted. He studied dutifully, storing away every single word you said. Now, you didnât have to tell him anything, he knew exactly what to do. Hell, he knew your body better than you did.
âJust sit back and relax, baby girl, I got you,â heâd say, smiling coyly as you inevitably came undone for him in minutes.
Every night, whether youâd had sex or just talked about your days, heâd hold you until you fell asleep. And every night, without fail, heâd ask you to marry him. Youâd just kiss him and tell him you loved him, falling asleep a few moments later. He didnât take it personally, he understood why you were hesitant, and heâd wait until you were old and gray if thatâs what you needed.
. â * .⥠*:.  ĘÂ Ë àŁȘ . â * .⥠*:.  ĘÂ Ë àŁȘ ..  ĘÂ Ë àŁȘ . â * .⥠*:. Ë àŁȘ .
This was the first night in a long time JJ held you in bed and didnât propose. A tropical storm was raging outside your little house, winds making the walls sway and rain pounding against the windows so hard you think they might break. Youâre shaking in JJâs arms, youâve always hated storms and this is the worst one thatâs hit the island in a long time. He pulls the covers over your head and wraps his strong arms around you tightly, trying to drown out the noise of the storm with soothing words.
âItâs gonna be okay, love,â he promises. âIâm not gonna let anything bad happen. âS just a little rain, itâll pass.â
Even though you were terrified, his confident words were enough to lull you into sleep sometime in the early morning. When you wake up, JJ isnât in bed next to you. Sun is peeking through the crack in the curtains and the sound of birds chirping has replaced the thunder. You pull on your robe and slippers and shuffle out of the bedroom.Â
You brew yourself some coffee, thankful the power is still on, and walk around the house to check for leaks or damage. There isnât a single problem. You sigh in relief, beyond grateful for all the hard work JJ had put in to make the house so safe.Â
Suddenly, you hear voices coming from outside the screen door. You look out to see commotion up and down the street, you set your coffee down and step outside, eyes wide as you take in the stormâs aftermath. You realize with dismay that you and JJ were the only house on the block that seemed untouched. Every other yard was riddled with debris, roofs were damaged, windows broken.
You spotted JJ across the street, helping a neighbor lift heavy branches off of his car. Feeling helpless, you hurried back into the house and pulled out everything you had in the pantry and fridge, making sandwiches and cutting up veggies, loading up the back of JJâs landscaping van with the food. You parked the van at the end of the street and handed out the food and drinks to everyone, creating a makeshift block party, while JJ made his way house to house to see how he could help with the damage.Â
You try to listen as your neighbors discuss the volume of the thunder and share stories of past storms, but you couldnât help the way your eyes kept drifting back to JJ. He looked so strong and capable, lifting heavy branches, boarding up broken windows, clearing debris. Every neighbor he helped was left laughing, their smiles wide as he eased their worry by just being him.Â
Once it starts to get dark, you and JJ invite everyone over for a bonfire and cookout in your backyard. Youâre sitting by the fire, watching with adoration as JJ plays tag football with all the kids. He purposely let them win, making them feel like they were ten feet tall. They all dogpile on him in excitement and you laugh along with all the other adults, shaking your head lovingly.
One of the young moms in the neighborhood you had come to know fairly well sits next to you, smiling knowingly as she watches you watch him.
âItâs really none of my business,â she says to you quietly, âbut why arenât you two married?â
You donât look away from JJ as you respond, âyâknow, I had a reason, but I canât seem to remember what it was.â
After everyone has left, the yard is a mess of solo cups and the fire still burns. You look around and sigh, youâve been cooking and helping people all day, and you didnât realize how exhausted you were after getting so little sleep last night. You start to pick up, yawning as you bend down to pick up something off the ground. You feel JJâs arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. You lean back into him and sway as he places a kiss on your cheek.
âLoved watching you today,â he says, his voice low. âCooking for everyone, making sure everyone was okay. Youâre such a good person, baby.â
You smile at his praise. âI learned it from you,â you say sweetly.
âNah, babe, you got that the wrong way around,â he laughed. âYou think the me you met five years ago wouldâve been out here helping people clean up? I wouldâve taken one look around and gotten the hell out of here.â
You smile at this, knowing he was right, picturing eighteen-year-old JJ grabbing his board and peeling out of the neighborhood at the first sight of trouble.
âYou made me a better man,â he says, his tone serious now.
You lift one of his hands up to your lips, kissing his knuckles affectionately. He holds you for a long while as you look up at the stars, the night clear and calm after the storm.
âI drew you a bath,â he breaks the silence.
âThank you, but I have to clean up,â you say, breaking from his hold and looking around the messy yard.
He just takes the trash from your hand and shakes his head, âIâve got it, love. You donât want your bath to get cold and waste the water.â
You smile at him, knowing his play. âYou turned it on before telling me so I couldnât say no.â
He doesnât deny it, just kisses you on the cheek and starts picking up more empty paper plates and cups.
The bath water was perfect when you got in, your favorite candle already lit and some soft music playing. Your heart squeezed at JJâs thoughtfulness as you relaxed into the warm water and let it wash away the day.
From your spot in the tub, you could see JJ in the yard, lit by the moon as he poured water over the fire to put it out. You felt suddenly emotional, overwhelmed by the deepest affection for him. You thought about his comment that youâd made him a better man. It was true that heâd grown so much in the last five years, but you couldnât take all the credit. Maybe you were the reason heâd begun the journey, but he got to this destination all on his own. No one worked harder than him, or loved harder, or played harder. He provided for you, while still acknowledging how hard you worked, too. He encouraged all your dreams, listened to all of your anxious ramblings, laughed at all your stupid jokes. He never missed the chance to tell you how smart, beautiful, and special you were. He was selfless, always putting your needs before his. Even when youâd fight, he never walked away, never let the night end without trying to come to an understanding, only sleeping on the couch when he knew what you needed most was space. Heâs proven to you over and over that heâs become the man you need.
Youâre pulled from your thoughts when you hear the bedroom door open and shut. You hear JJ shuffle around in the bedroom for a bit before settling, surely not wanting to interrupt your relaxation. It hits you all at once, finally finding the answer heâs been wanting from you for years.
You drain the tub and stand at the sink,running your hands through your hair and dabbing on a little lipgloss. You rub vanilla scented lotion into your skin, JJâs favorite. You walk over to the walk-in closet he built for you, digging through the drawers until you find a new pair of pink lace panties and its matching bra and garter set that he hasnât seen you in yet.
When you slowly open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom, JJ is sitting on the bed in only his boxers, leaning against the headboard as he scrolls on his phone.
âBabe, you need to see these videos of the swells this morning,â he tells you, eyes still fixed to his phone as you start to walk slowly toward the bed. âWe gotta get out there tomorrow.â
âWhatever you want, baby,â you purr.
He looks up the sound of your sultry voice, eyes immediately widening at the sight of you in your lingerie. He sits up, moving to the side of the bed and throwing his phone behind him, not even caring when it bounces off the mattress and onto the floor with a crash.
âDamnnnn,â he whistles at you playfully, making your cheeks heat up as you giggle.
âYou like it?â You do a little twirl for him.
He looks you up and down hungrily, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He hooks his finger and motions for you, âget over here.â
A rush of excitement flows through you, straight to your core, and you saunter over to him. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand in front of him, between his legs. He looks up at you, his eyes burying into yours as he slowly reaches his hand up to rest on your hip.
âI love it,â he places a soft kiss onto your stomach and you feel goosebumps shoot up all over your skin. He kisses you a few more times before pulling back slightly to mumble, âitâs too bad Iâm gonna have to rip it off.â
You moan softly at the feeling of his soft lips grazing over the sensitive skin right above the waistband of your panties. Before he can go any further, you grab his face in both hands and lift his gaze back up to yours.
âYou first,â you whisper.Â
JJâs lips spread in a wicked smile, and you instinctively press the pads of your thumbs into his dimples. You lean down to place a quick kiss to his lips before saying, âlay down.â
âYes, maâam,â he says eagerly as he scrambles back to lean against the headboard.
You slowly climb over him, your knees on either side of his lap, and ever so slightly drop your hips, your core ghosting over his clothed cock. At the slightest contact, he groans, unable to help himself but attach his lips to your neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin for a moment, before running his tongue over the same spot.
âMmmm, you taste like vanilla,â you smile at the warmth in his words.
âPut on that lotion you like,â you explain as you grind down on him again, just a little harder this time.
âGod,â he groans. âYouâre so good to me.â
âNot as good as you are to me,â you smile down at him as you start rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. He throws his head back, reveling in the feeling of you, fingers digging into your hips to guide you to continue grinding. You place soft, wet kisses on his neck and chest, offering him a praise between each one.Â
âYou make me so happyâŠtreat me so wellâŠfuck me so goodâŠmake me come so hardâŠmake me so fucking hornyâŠâ
His dick twitches in his boxers at the sound of your dirty talk. You continue moving your kisses down his abs, backing up your body to reach lower with each one.Â
âFuck, angel,â he chokes out, âyou got me so hard.â
You look up at him with a smirk, youâre between his legs now, face inches from the waistband of his boxers, you arch your back so your ass sticks up behind you, giving him a perfect angle of your body.Â
âCan I taste you, J?â You pout, as if heâd ever say no.
âMhm, do whatever you want,â he pants, brushing your hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. Even when he has you in this position, heâs sweet, taking care of you.
âAll I want is to make you happy,â you tell him, your intent was to sound sexy, but you canât help the bit of emotion that creeps in, realizing how true your words are on so many levels.
He sits up when he notices the way your brow is drawn together in sincerity. He kisses your forehead and whispers, âall you gotta do to make me happy is exist.â
This man is perfect, you think, a huge grin on your face. You kiss him back once before laying your hand gently on his chest so heâll lay back. You keep your hand over his heart as the other pulls down the waistband of his boxers. His dick springs free the second the fabric is out of the way. Even after all these years, your stomach still flips with excitement when you see his cock hard and needy for you. He places one hand over yours on his chest, while his other hand finds its way back into your hair. Â
You wrap your fingers around his shaft gently and he sucks in a sharp breath, overly sensitive from how worked up youâve got him. You drop a kiss to the tip, leaving a dab of lipgloss behind, quick to brush it off with your thumb, the motion making his hips buck up.
You know heâs trying to be patient, not to rush, afraid to pressure you. Your heart swells at his considerate restraint. You reward his patience by flattening your tongue and dragging it from his base to his tip, swirling it over the tip a few times before bringing his cockhead into your lips.
He looks down at you, eyes wide, watching the way your mouth accepts him. You moan softly at the taste of him and it reverberates through his body, making his head fall back against the headboard with a bang.
âAre you ok, love?â You ask nervously.
He laughs and shakes his head at his own clumsiness, âIâm fine baby, you just got me so damn worked up, your mouth feels so good.âÂ
You smile in satisfaction and return your mouth to his tip. You work him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, trying to relax your throat as best you can. Even though youâve done this many times, youâve never gotten used to the size of him. He knows it, too, looking at you with concern as you start to gag a bit, only two-thirds of the way down.
âDonât hurt yourself, itâs okay if you stop there,â you pull off of him and he thinks youâre done, but you just shush him as you run your hand up and down his shaft a few times before diving back in.Â
When heâs finally all the way in, his tip nudging the back of your throat, you moan to disguise your gag so he knows youâre okay. He seems to relent, tugging slightly at the roots of your hair and gripping your hand harder, you hollow your cheeks and start to bob up and down.
âShhhit,â he says through clenched teeth. âThatâs perfect, baby. Youâre so fucking perfect.â
You keep up the pace for a couple minutes, JJ a whining mess beneath you. You adored the sound of him letting go and feeling good. He worked so hard, and always tried to prove how strong he was, nothing felt better than making him finally relax.Â
When you moaned around him again, he bucked his hips up subconsciously.
âWait,â he sat up, âwait wait wait.â
You pulled off of him, startled, âwhatâs wrong?â
âNothing, itâs so good, too good,â he rushed to assure you. âNot gonna last much longer.â
You smiled pridefully, âwhere do you want to finish, baby?â
âInside, need to be inside you, please,â he used the hand he was holding to pull you up to him, making you laugh as you fall onto his chest.
âI was hoping youâd say that,â you giggled, placing a swift kiss on his lips.
âYeah?â He taunts as he flips you onto your back gently, slipping his finger under the strap of your bra. âYou finally gonna let me rip these off of you?â
You pull your lip between your teeth and nod, watching JJâs hands move swiftly to rid you of the lacy fabric. Once he had your bra and panties off, he kissed you again, and you let out a little sigh into his mouth. He studied your face as his hand dipped between your legs, two fingers gliding through your wetness. You whimpered and twitched beneath him as he grazed your clit.
âAll this for me?â He asked, well aware of the answer.
âYes,â you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, the pressure of his fingers against you so good your legs were starting to shake. âIâm yours, J. Forever.â
His nostrils flared slightly at the sound of the words, never needing to be inside you quite as much as he did in that moment. He used your wetness on his hand to get his dick ready, sliding in slowly as your back arched while you gasped at the sensation.
âForever, huh?â He asks as he sinks into you.
You nod desperately, pulling a wicked grin from him as he finally bottoms out. He starts to rock in and out of you, slowly at first, picking up the pace when you wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him.
âI love you so much,â he says so earnestly your heart aches, pressing his forehead against yours.
âI love you too, you have no idea,â you tell him.
When he shifts his hips slightly so his pelvis rubs over your clit, you clench around him, crying his name in pleasure.
âI think I have some idea,â he teases.
You squeeze him again, harder, making the smile fall from his lips as he groans, jaw clenched.
As JJ picks up his pace, brushing over your clit with each deep thrust, both of you moan, your breaths becoming frenzied and your sweat mixing together everywhere your skin touches.
His words are a tangled mess of I love yous and fucks, yours a chant of oh my gods and his name. You squeeze him again, your orgasm approaching. He watches your face, eyes shut tight and lips parted, your hair a halo around you as he presses you into the pillows with each stroke. Itâs the most beautiful sight, he thinks, the most precious person in the world, completely lost in the joy heâs giving her.
He canât help himself when he whispers, âmarry me.â
Your eyes shoot open, meeting his with surprise, and he wishes he hadnât said it, that he had waited until later like he did every other night, when you were falling asleep and too tired to scold him for his impulsiveness.Â
But then, you reach your hand up to caress his face, running your thumb over his bottom lip, looking at him with so much love and affection.
âYes,â you say.
He stops moving into you and leans away from your face a bit, positive that he misheard you.Â
âWh-what?â He sounds concerned, like maybe he was dreaming and none of this was really happening.
âI wanna marry you, JJ,â you repeat, your voice sure and unwavering. You caress his cheek with your thumb, waiting for his mind to catch up with his ears.Â
When it finally does, he places a kiss on your palm and sinks into you again, moving slowly at first in his dazed state, before you lift your hips, reminding him how you like it. He pounds into you, the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breaths filling the room as you near your high.
âYou gonna be my wife?â JJ asks, watching your face contort with pure bliss.Â
âYes!â You cry, the wave of your orgasm crashing into you hard, your clenching walls pulling JJâs from him as he fills you.Â
That night, while JJ held you like he always did, your back to his chest, heâs uncharacteristically quiet. You turn in his arms so you can look at him, trying to read his face.
âWhatâs wrong?â You ask.
âIâm trying to figure out how long I have to wait before I can start asking if we can have a baby,â he admits, his tongue poking into his cheek.
You laugh loudly, swatting his shoulder.
âYou really donât give up, do you Maybank?âÂ
âOn you? Never.â
a/n: in which nat takes a break from all the rafe angst to write some jj fluff. I saw some of the jj girlies say he needs more fics, so i'd thought I'd try writing for him and I had soooo much fun!! also I fear short 'n sweet has a death grip on my one-shots, oh well.
#obx fic#jj maybank#jj obx#jj outer banks#jj obx imagine#JJ smut#JJ maybank smut#obx smut#outer banks fic#outer banks#outer banks smut#JJ x reader#JJ maybank x reader#x reader#JJ fluff#JJ maybank fic
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I think another factor that really wasn't really addressed in the episode was that Applejack didn't just come on like a hammer because that's how she always is. She was very hesitant to do this in the first place and had to be flattered like mad, talk herself into it and help out Applebloom before she could even think about being candid about her fashion opinions, and was taking all her cues off Rarity. Like it was Rarity who was affirming her behavior right up until the point of major disaster, and building her up to the point of undeserved hubris. Like, it's not Applejack being a bad person, it's her being naturally prone to pride and being emboldened by Rarity's nepotism and enabling, and when she was confronted about it she got frustrated because fashion is something she just doesn't understand and before she hit the point of "fashion is ridiculous." Like there were so many stops along the way where Applejack could have course corrected, or BEEN corrected but Rarity, who she trusts as a fashion authority, told her she was all good. Like? If it feels out of character, it's because it isn't common that she's ever encouraged to get that out of line, but she legit thought she was just doing what Rarity wanted her to do- critique the designs for practicality in her blunt no nonsense way, and heaven knows she feels being too eager to please is one of her big character flaws. We saw a kind of ugly side of Applejack in that episode, but it wasn't necessarily an out of character one given the kind of monsters chronic nepotism creates and her predisposition to getting full of herself if the right ponies flatter her.
The way the Brony fandom reacted to Applejack's behavior in Honest Apple will always astound me. So many people thought that she was grossly out of character for how she acted, as if we didn't have an episode 3 seasons prior where she had a whole musical number that was basically her telling Fluttershy "I don't care if you're the animal expert. We're gonna deal with the bats the way I wanna deal with them."
Stop The Bats was essentially "It's My Way or the Highway: The Song." You would think with how much people gushed over that musical number back in the day that they would pay attention to what the song was actually saying, and what that says about AJ's character.
But nah. Honest Apple was "character assassination." I remember people thought I was crazy when I said it was the best episode of Season 7, but I'll stand ten toes down on that. It's the best season 7 episode and the best AJ episode, period.
#character analysis#applejack#honest apple#Rarity was the real villain of that episode but acknowledging that would have been too gay#Rarity learned nothing#edit: that was a facetious tag put in the tags for a joke because I think the episode would have addressed it if it weren't so gay of her#but like the fact that she was willing to ignore how uncomfortable literally everyone was because she was SO SURE of applejack#and literally said at the end she KNEW she was the perfect choice even after a borderline career ending disaster#is insanely gay to me#and sorry but Applejack shouldn't have even had opportunity outright change the clothes without talking about it first#Rarity let her steamroll everyone even as her face was screaming HIGH ALERT and she COULD have stopped it but didn't#Like it's fair to think she'd assume Applejack wouldn't go mad with power#but she saw it happening right in front of her and was more focused on justifying Applejack's behavior than helping anyone else in the room#I love Rarity but she went through this episode with Applejack blinders on and refused to own up for it#If Applejack weren't the queen of grand gestures and the judges hadn't tolerated getting kidnapped Rarity would have been DONE#Like it hit on pre-existing flaws both of them have#Rarity's is just one we usually only saw with celebrities and crushes before
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As usual, I have no one to talk about this but... Have you seen those "mom instincts are cool, but let's talk about dad reflexes for a sec" vids???
Kento with dad reflexes? (Pretty sure he already has it when he's single or even in canon when Yuji is accompanying him in missions lmao)
I'm just in my bed giggling, kicking my feet because I can imagine him having those like when his baby girl would trip and he moves so FAST to catch her đ„čđ„čđ„čđ„čđ„č man idk where I'm going with this it's just making me go skkdkddkdjd
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The footsteps were slow, slick, echoing-- considered. At this stage, Kento didn't know if he and Yuuji were being hunted, or if they were the hunters. He suspected both.
The mansion fell apart around them, broken pipes lazily spewing sewage and muck. Kento felt the softly yielding floorboards beneath his feet, aware that if he wasn't careful, the second floor would very quickly become the first floor and--
"Oi, Nanamin!" Bounding, youthful footsteps hopped up beside Kento, who felt and heard the repercussions up the walls, the crack in the floorboards, the imminent collapse--
With the barest flash of movement, the floor beneath Yuuji's feet was missing, and Yuuji hung by his collar in Kento's iron grip, slowly rotating in the air as floorboards rumbled away with distant clatters. Otherwise, silence. A mildly dismayed hum from Kento, as he twizzled his blade in his other hand.
"Wow, Nanamin! Good refle--"
"Please make sure I do not have to use them, Itadori-kun."
"Ah...yeah."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
Curse-killing on a moving Subway train in the middle of the night wasn't the sort of overtime Kento needed...but when he heard the mission had been given to you, and you alone, he felt a sickening twist of anxiety in his gut. Not that you knew how he felt.
Kento bridled with incandescent rage, seeing you tumble down the rattling carriage, pinballing between poles and seats. Your fatal blow to this filthy Curse was not fatal quickly enough.
"Come on! It's dead, time to--" Kento's call was cut short, sensing imminent disaster as you kicked the door through on the opposite end of the carriage, and the Curse staggered into the walls, making the carriage list sideways, making you list sideways at the open door in your bullet-shot speed through this gloomy tunnel--
All at once, you felt yourself falling from the moving train, rolling and tumbling but wrapped up in something so warm that smelled so good.
You rolled to a stop, still full-body bear-hugged by Kento. You lay under him for a moment, face to chest through the torn off buttons of his shirt. He unfolded you with a soft sigh, hands and knees planted either side of your head and hips.
"Wow, Kento. Good refle--"
"Dinner, I--...we should go out for dinner."
"Oh. Like...now?"
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"Daddy, watch this--"
One little blonde girl, suspended and giggling upside down, caught. Kento, sighing, holding her by her ankle by the tree she was almost certainly too small to climb.
-----------------------------
"Jump, jump, jump, jump, ju--"
A full-suited barrel-roll across the living room, a near-miss with a tiny head and a coffee table corner. The boy peered sheepishly up at his daddy, whose narrow brown eyes glowered down in silent disapproval.
"Daddy, I was jumpi--"
"Hush. Be more careful."
-----------------------------
"I'll race you--"
"No, I'm winning I'M WINNING I'M---"
A flash of movement. One little boy and one little girl, hunched over and suspended by the backs of their jeans, spinning and surprised.
Kento grunted once, loaded down with shopping bags, hooking the boot of the car up with one foot, his keys between his teeth. He spat his keys onto the seat.
A truck barrelled past, its driver certainly not looking for little people. Kento grunted again, dropping children and shopping bags.
"Do not-- I repeat, do not run in the car park."
"...sorry daddy."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
You reached out towards Kento, seeing something glimmer in the honey-blond of his hair. His hand snapped up, grasping yours reflexively round the wrist. He let go immediately, apologetic.
"Sorry, I--...rough day with the kids." You smiled, stroking his cheek, and he leaned into your soft palm, planting a kiss there. Your gaze wandered to his hair again. Kento raised an eyebrow at you.
"What?"
"You've, uhm...got a grey hair."
Silence. A moderately dismayed hum.
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I agree. Nanami Kento has dad reflexes.
-- Haitch xxx
#pseudowho answers you#Dad reflexes#nanami x#kento nanami#nanami headcanons#jjk nanami#kento nanami x you#nanami fluff#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x y/n#jujustu kaisen#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento x you#papamin au#papamin#itadori yuji
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The Gala
Jason Todd x reader one-shot
Summary:Â It was supposed to be simple. Just accompany Jason to the party. It was also supposed to be quick. Just go in, talk to a few people, and out. But then, you find yourself meeting your boyfriend's family.
Word Count:Â 9.3K
Category:Â Fluff (established relationship) and a tiny, tiny little bit of angst
Warnings: Rich people?? Bahahsjsjs Mentions of alcohol
Authorâs note: My Wayne gala fic debut (with a super original title, I know jskdks), hope you like it!
You look at yourself once again in the mirror. The truth is that you love the image that looks back at you. You feel comfortable and true to yourself, as well as beautiful. The dress that youâre wearing playing a big part in it. Your fingers slowly trace the hem of the bright red of the soft fabric.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You know that the dress probably wonât live up to the standard of the women that will be at the place but for you, itâs beautiful and elegant, making you feel like a seven year old girl wearing her favorite princess dress and giving you the confidence that you will need tonight.
Even if the style of the dress is not as chic or as sophisticated as others, youâre sure that the red will stand out. The thought increases your nerves. You donât usually wear red but when you saw this dress you knew that you had to buy it, you could easily see yourself in it. And also, you couldnât wait to see Jasonâs reaction.
You knew that he would love it, or so you hoped. He always liked it when you wore red, or anything for that matter. No matter how you looked he always looked at you with the same silly smile and caring eyes. But there was something in wanting to see him swoon all over you. You smile thinking of him. Even if the night ends in a disaster, you both will be at each other's side.
Just as you do a little spin to see the movement of your skirt just a bit up your knees, the doorbell rings. When you open the door Jason is looking around stressfully, breathing heavily, his hands alternating on running through his hair as if trying to fix it and adjusting his tie. He doesnât seem to notice that you have opened the door.
âHey,â you say softly. He turns to you.
âHi,â he says breathlessly in return, and by the way that heâs taking you in, you can tell that it isnât for the same reason as before. You look down shyly and put a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You then take him in, and to say that youâre not ready for the full sight in front of you is an understatement. Jason was already handsome but to see him in a suit⊠Your insides are doing crazy things.
âY/N, you look⊠incredible.â
âThank you.â You take a small step and on your toes you give him a kiss on the cheek. âI have to say that you look great. I think that I could get used to seeing you in a suit.â He smiles warmly but suddenly he seems to come out of his daze.
âListen, Iâm so sorry Iâm late and that I kept you waiting. I got caught up before and then this stupid tie wouldnât work with me andâŠâ You shush him softly with a kiss and then shake your head.
âDonât worry, I just got finished too.â
He sighs in relief, and then, with a life of their own, before you can help yourself, your hands lift to fix his hair to give it his usual style but less messy, although as always, the white streak stays as rebel as ever. Your hands slide down his neck to the lapels of his jacket and then adjust his tie that was crooked to the left.
âYou know how to do that?â he says, referring to the tie.
âNot really. I have just always wanted to do that. You know, like in movies and so.â You canât help but giggle a bit while you say that.
âWell, that makes two of us.â He takes your hands and places a kiss on them. You sigh happily, the soft gesture making you melt. Youâre sure that this man is going to be the death of you. The care and affection with which he always touches and looks at you was both deadly and invigorating. âReady?â
âI think so.â
âBecause if not, you know that I wouldnât mind one bit to stay here and take a more careful look at this gorgeous dress.â His hands find your waist and after a peck on your lips, his own meet your neck.
âI know. And thatâs why we have to get going, weâre already late.â You put a hand in his chest to place some distance with the temptation of his lips, that now are pouting.
ââA queen is never late, everyone else is simply early,ââ he deadpans.
A laugh threatens to escape from your throat. âYou just did not.â
âWhat?â he says feigning innocence, but the smirk on his lips gives him away.
âYou just did not quote the queen of Genovia,â you say amused.
âOkay, first, Julie Andrews is always right. And second, you were the one that showed me that masterpiece so, you should have seen it coming.â Heâs grinning from ear to ear. You wish that you could always see him like this. So happy and carefree.
âCan't say that youâre not right,â you reply while hugging him, resting your head on his chest and letting his calming scent surround you.
He then takes your face in his hands and with your noses touching he whispers, âI love you.âÂ
Your smile at those words never faltered. âI love you too.â
When you two reach the manor Jason drives past the main gate and goes directly to the secondary one that leads to the back entrance of the manor in order to avoid all the fancy cars and limos that litter the road of the main one.
Even from outside you can tell that the party is already in full swing, the windows of the main living room that in these cases often transforms into a dance hall, the only ones with light in them and cluttered with people.
Jason parks the car but his hands do not leave the steering wheel. His grip tightens and untightens around it as he takes a deep breath and looks towards the back door of the manor. You know well how even though the manor is a home to Jason, in events like this it almost feels like a cage.
âHey,â you whisper softly while you take his hands into yours. Immediately, Jasonâs eyes leave the manor and turn towards you. âItâs gonna be okay. Iâm here. And itâll be quick, we just have to show face for a little while, just like we talked about. And then as fast as weâre in, weâll be out,â you reassure him while softly rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs.
Jason gulps and nods, trying to will the nerves away, though his hands have stopped flexing and now lay relaxed in your grip ever since you touched them.
âOr we can leave right now. Forget all this. Spend the evening alone, just you and me. Maybe even some Batburger?â you tease with a smile, letting him know that he always has an out with you. Your calming words seem to work as a small chuckle leaves him and he lifts your hands to kiss them once again.
He shakes his head.
You tilt yours. âYou sure?â
âYeah. I just needed a moment. Besides, if I donât go in Iâll never hear the end of it. Also, if we get this out of the way now, we wonât have to come to another one for a long while. And like you said, itâll be quick.â
You nod and give his hands an encouraging squeeze. âExactly. And remember, if you want to leave early, you just tell me.âÂ
He nods, a lot more sure of himself than just a moment ago. âLetâs go.â
âLetâs go,â you echo.
Jason gets out of the car and you know better than to try and get out yourself, having learned in the very early stages of your relationship that if Jason can help it, you will never have to open a door again. And like always, your door opens and he extends a hand to help you out.
Despite the temperature dropping slightly during the night with the summer reaching its end, itâs a very nice evening. A soft breeze grazes your arms and the cut of your dress but itâs not enough to make you feel cold, mainly due to the warm hand that settles on your lower back. In the sky, the stars that would be impossible to see downtown accompany the moon in illuminating the night.
You two make your way through the gravel path that leads to the back door hand in hand, giving each other courage for the night that awaits ahead.
Once inside, itâs like entering another world entirely. Chatter and glass clinks fill the air and youâre just glad that at least this way your entrance to the party wonât make that much of a fuss as you would have done if you had used the main door.
âI was starting to think that you werenât going to appear, Master Jason.â
At the sound of the voice both you and Jason stop dead in your tracks near the kitchen, almost like two kids getting caught trying to sneak out instead of sneaking in.
âAlfred!â Jason greets him exaggeratedly, trying to distract from the fact that you two have been caught arriving late. The British man canât help but mirror Jasonâs big smile, even as it breaks his teasing smirk. You smile as you watch them hug and then Alfred turns to you.
âOh, and youâve brought Miss Y/N as well! So great to see you again, dear,â he says as he also gives you a quick hug.
âYou too, Alfred,â you reply with a smile. âThough itâs just Y/N, please.â
âYou know Iâm not going to do that, Miss Y/N.â The crinkles of the butlerâs smile reminding you that trying to argue with him was a futile attempt.
You had only met him once before but that had been enough to get to know each other quite well and to already care for each other.
You had met him some weeks before, when Jason took you to the manor for the very first time one weekend as a kind of romantic getaway, as it had been left deserted and empty by Alfred and Bruce due to a business/Batman trip and Tim and Damian were away with their respective friends. It was an opportunity like no other.
It had been a wonderful long summery weekend, spent cooking together, lounging in the pool while sharing lazy kisses in the water with your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hands holding you as the sun set behind you, and watching movies in the home theater. You had never felt more at peace or relaxed.
And then, Alfred had come back a couple of days early. You and Jason had been cooking lunch (well, Jason had been cooking while you admired him perched on the counter), when Alfred entered, surprised to see anyone in the manor. After the initial surprise, friendly introductions had been made since from all of the members of his family, Alfred was the only one that Jason wasnât wary of you meeting.
Jason could only thank whatever was out there that it had been Alfred who had come back early and not Bruce. He wasnât ready to handle that yet.
Alfred joined you two for lunch and even though you were slightly nervous at the beginning at meeting a member of Jasonâs family, you were glad that it was Alfred since he instantly made you feel welcome and at ease. Jason had watched your conversations with a small smile, glad to see and not surprised at all that you got along so well.
After lunch, Alfred left you two be to enjoy the rest of the day as well as the next day since it was your last in the manor. However, he still insisted on making you two breakfast the next day and you got to try Alfredâs famous pancakes. There was no doubt from where Jason had gotten his excellent culinary skills.
You still crossed paths with Alfred a couple more times but they hadnât been awkward at all. During that short time of seeing you and Jason interact, Alfred saw just how happy you two made and loved each other. He could clearly see the certainty of your relationship and he couldnât be happier for the young boy that had once been the second Robin. He totally deserved the happiness that you brought him.
And as Alfred insists on calling you Miss Y/N, with the sounds of the party drifting into the kitchen, just like he had done the first time that he met you, the same thought crosses his mind.
That the only way in which he would ever call you something other than that would be when you became Mrs. Todd. Something that he was certain would happen from the very first moment that he saw you laugh with Jason before he had made his presence known that summer afternoon. A truth as plain as the sun.
Now, seeing that the British man isnât giving up upon your insistence on calling you just by your first name, you sigh defeatedly. âAlright.â
At that, Alfred smiles and turns back to Jason. âYour brothers will be glad to see youâve been able to make it.â
Jason rolls his eyes. âSure.â
You smile at his antics and squeeze his hand. The thing was that at each Wayne gala, as it was to be expected, a few members of the family should be present. But considering the fact that all, literally all, the Waynes hated the galas, having Waynes at a gala had long been a recurring problem.
No one still talks about the time that at one of them, not a single Wayne had appeared. The press had had a field day with it and it took the Waynes months to repair the damage.
For a rich family in Gotham that lead a double life as vigilantes, they sure hated the appearances and masks that came with having to entertain the socialites. You have always found the fact extremely entertaining.
And so, in order to avoid the great gala disaster, as Jason had explained to you, they had come up with a system. Taking turns attending the galas and doing so in different groups as they all knew that no one, absolutely no one should have to suffer through a gala alone (except Bruce, who sometimes had to go alone, downsides of being the face of the company).
For example, a group could be Bruce, Dick and Damian (who, lucky for him, has never had to experience the torture of going to one alone, still being a kid and all), or Jason and Dick, but never just Jason and Tim alone, the two always looking to make an escape and neither of them keeping the other in check. However, if they were accompanied by someone else it was manageable. The pairings and different groupings going on and on.
But tonight, however, it was the turn for all four of the batboys to be there, Bruce out on a mission. And so here you were, having offered to accompany your boyfriend when he told you that he had to go to the gala. Jason had said that it wasnât necessary but you could see the relief in his eyes when you assured him that you wanted to go with him, knowing how hard these things could be sometimes.
Though not liking large crowds either, you were no better. What a pair did you two make. But you knew that together, you could face this night. Now, apart from the overall challenge of enduring the night, came the very real possibility of finally meeting Jasonâs brothers. It wasnât that Jason was trying to keep you away from them or hiding you, they did know about you, itâs just that it was a delicate issue that he wanted to handle at his own time and when he was ready.
You understood that and of course never pushed him on the topic. You knew that if it were for Jason, he would scream that you two were together a hundred times a day, he had no problem holding your hand in public nor kissing you until you felt dizzy in the middle of the street.
Either way, when you two realized that you could meet them, Jason came to the conclusion that it wasnât so bad. That way theyâll stop pestering him about meeting you and you would do it in a more relaxed ambience than what a formal dinner with all of his family, including Bruce, could be, with all of their eyes fixed on you and asking you millions of questions. At least this way, with the gala, distractions were easy to come by if a quick escape was necessary.
So, if you met them, good. If you didnât, good as well.
Though still, the nerves persisted.
After exchanging a couple of phrases more with Alfred, he returned to his duties at the party and with your arm looped through Jasonâs, you stepped into the space that had been turned into a ballroom of sorts, all of Gothamâs elite there. Either to donate to a Wayne fundraiser (sadly, the least likely of them all), invest in Wayne Enterprises (more likely), drink (very likely), or to snoop around the mysterious Wayne manor and find out more about the peculiar family (the most likely of them all).
You have to say that you're impressed with what has been done with the space. Added chandeliers and carefully placed lamps give the room a golden glow, highlighting all the luxury of the attendees, from expensive watches, to even more expensive necklaces, and making all the glasses of champagne around the room sparkle.
On one side, a bar has been set up, on the other, on a small stage, musicians play for the dancing couples on the dance floor that has been put up in the center. And scattered around the room, high tables where people place their drinks and gather for conversations.
The lack of chairs does not go unnoticed, just a couple every few tables and the stools that surround the bar. The lack no doubt made deliberately, that way, no one would settle for long, either forcing them to mingle and spend some money on the gala or directly leave. The Waynes really do not like to have people in their house. You have to stifle a laugh at the thought, you could relate to that.
Though it makes perfect sense, given that no one wants too many people on the floor above the headquarters for Gothamâs vigilantes for long. You also know that in whatever way they can, they always try to have the galas either at Wayne Tower or at any other place, but sometimes, having one at the manor once in a while was inevitable.
You canât help but tense up as you notice more and more people start to look towards you two. You donât even notice that your anxious nature has gotten the better of you and that your grip on Jasonâs arm has tightened until his other hand covers yours, the touch immediately grounding and soothing you. You look up at him and take a deep breath as his green eyes look at you encouragingly and gratefully, telling you that you can do this and that heâs thankful that youâre here with him.
You smile before squeezing his arm back and then you two plunge into battle. Showtime.
You make small talk with a few of the guests before approaching the bar to get something to drink. As you wait for your drinks you feel Jason lean down to whisper in your ear.
âIâm going to the bathroom real quick, Iâll be right back. You okay?â
You nod with a smile, telling him that itâs okay before he gives a quick kiss to your temple and then disappears into the crowd.
Your eyes scan the room as you take the refreshment that has been placed in front of you and take a sip, trying not to draw too much attention upon yourself while you wait. Youâre no vigilante but as a person that prefers alone time, assessing the room before making any social interaction goes without saying. Youâre even thinking of seeking Alfred and asking him if he needs help with anything when your eyes clock Jason again on the other side of the room, cornered by a bunch of socialites.
He has a pleasing smile on his face as he listens to what theyâre telling him. To any other person, it might seem like heâs genuinely interested, but you can read him like a book. The corners of his smile are tense, apart from the fact that it doesn't reach his eyes, and his too constant nodding tells you how he is feigning the interest. His eyes find yours for a moment before returning to the lady speaking to him and in that split millisecond you can see how his smile turns real for you, before becoming fake once again.
You leave your glass on the counter of the bar to make your way to him and save him from the people crowding him when suddenly-
âCare for a dance?â a smooth voice says at your side.
You turn to decline when youâre met with eyes of a vibrant shade of blue, a boyish youth and mischief in them, but also slightly hardened with years of experience dealing with the worst of Gotham. His black hair is perfectly styled, a winning and charming smile on his lips and clad in a black suit with a bow tie that highlights all of his features. You can see how heâs a handsome man but still to you, he doesnât hold a candle to Jason.
Of course you know who he is.
Gothamâs golden boy.
âDick Grayson.â
âY/N Y/L/N.â His smile widens and you realize that this is happening whether you want it or not. Youâre meeting one of Jasonâs brothers. Your eyes flick back to Jason but heâs no longer surrounded by the socialites. In fact, heâs nowhere to be found. He mustâve managed to escape somehow. Looks like youâre going to have to face this alone. You had even been starting to think that this moment wouldnât come since you hadnât seen any of Jasonâs brothers since you arrived.
You turn back to Dick and heâs still in the exact same position, leaning with one arm on the bar, carefully watching you with a knowing smile. Everything in his demeanor open, easy.
âItâs nice to finally meet you,â he says, extending his hand.
Your force your body to release the small tension that it has accumulated and with a small smile you shake his hand. âYou too.â
âGlad to see that Jason hasnât made you up. We were starting to doubt that you really existed,â he comments playfully.
You know that he isnât intimidating you or trying to scare you, merely wanting to meet you, know more about Jasonâs life, see the reason why heâs the happiest that they have ever seen him.
âIâm very real, yes.â
âSo, how about that dance?â
You pause for a second. âIâm not the best dancer.â
âCome on, please. How am I supposed to get to know my new sister-in-law otherwise?â
âBy just talking?â
He chuckles. âAlright, fair enough. How about this, how am I supposed to get to know my sister-in-law without gossiping rich people interrupting us over and over again?â Dick nods to the side and you see how a few of the guests are looking towards you two, no doubt about to walk up to you and force you to establish conversation.
âLead the way,â you end up saying and Dickâs smile beams even more, his joyous nature and openness making you feel at ease. You feel like heâs trying to make this easy for you, knowing how awkward meeting your boyfriendâs family could be.
He then offers you his arm to guide you to the dance floor and in no time youâre joining all the couples waltzing around it.
âSo⊠Y/N, tell me. What are your intentions with our dear Jaybird?â he jokes in mock seriousness while arching an eyebrow.
âJaybird?â you ask, never having heard the nickname before but already liking it.
âOh, Y/N, I have so many anecdotes to tell you. Weâre going to have so much fun.â
You smile at the prospect of hearing stories about Jason. âCanât wait. But to answer your question, my intentions are to just be with him. For as long as he wants me.â
Dick nods, as if you just confirmed something that he already knew. âI feel like thatâs going to be a long time.â You feel your cheeks warm at his words. You really hope that it is too. Forever, if you can help it. âThough are you sure that you want to put up with him for so long? He can be insufferable,â he adds, and you chuckle.
âYes, Iâm sure.â
Afterwards, he asks you about your job and your family, and you ask him about life in BlĂŒdhaven. Youâre glad for his easygoingness, allowing you to feel comfortable and a sense of camaraderie and friendship already between you. Youâre also glad that youâre dancing since youâre sure that if you werenât, conversation wouldnât have flowed as easily without the privacy that it has given you.
âMy turn, Grayson,â a voice suddenly speaks.
You two stop dancing and turn your heads to the side, and then slightly down to find a young boy. His dark combed back hair and his straight posture making him a shadow of his father, his green eyes looking up at you expectantly and his tan skin inherited from his mother. Talia al Ghul.
âNo, it isnât,â Dick replies.Â
âYes, it is,â Damian retorts, holding Dickâs gaze. Itâs like they are challenging one another while also having a mental conversation.
Finally, Dick sighs. âFine. But only if Y/N is okay with that."
âItâs alright,â you say softly.
âSee?â Damian insists and Dick rolls his eyes. You smile at their interaction and then Dick turns back to you.
âThanks for dancing with me, Y/N. Itâs been really nice finally getting to talk to you.â
âLikewise.â
Dick squeezes your hands in goodbye before letting go, Damian taking his spot to dance with you. âSee you around.â Dick says and you nod and watch as he takes his leave, until a throat clears in front of you and you begin dancing once again.
âYouâre Toddâs girlfriend then? Y/L/N?â
âThatâs me. You must be Damian. Itâs nice to meet you.â Damian nods solemnly before staring intensely at you, as if deciphering you. His movements are graceful and elegant, even more purposeful than Dickâs even. You suppose that all the grace must have something to do with growing up with ninjas and practically being raised like royalty.
Not one to back out, you hold his gaze and stare back at him. Heâs shorter than you but you have no doubt that in no time heâll be taller than you.
âYouâre a great dancer, Damian,â you finally say and you can see how something in him changes, no longer putting up the intimidating facade, allowing himself to relax slightly.
âThanks. Mother taught me.â
âThatâs nice. I hope Iâm not making you look too much like a fool.â
Damian shrugs. âYouâre alright.â
You smile, taking his version of a compliment as a win. Then you take another look around the room, wondering where Jason could be. Maybe Alfred has asked for his help on something. You turn back to Damian, who looks around the space uninterested.
âIâm guessing you donât like these galas much,â you say, trying to get him to open up a bit more.
âThey are⊠a responsibility.â
âYeah, well, Iâd much rather prefer doing something else. Like going to the aquarium or the museum.â Damianâs eyes shot back to yours like a flash, a small sparkle in them.
Bingo.
You try to contain your triumphant smile. âHave you seen the new art exhibit? Jason told me that you like drawing,â you continue.
And just like that, whatever it was that Damian was wary of disappears as you two make conversation, discussing different painters, Damianâs art and your own hobbies. Then, for a second, Damian pauses in thought, like a jury about to deliver their decision, making you wonder what heâs about to say.Â
âYouâre cool. Todd was right about you,â he finally says as the current song ends and you two come to a stop.
You smile softly in thanks. âGlad to hear that.â
âThough Iâm not yet quite sure what you could be seeing in Todd. Youâre clearly way cooler than him.â
That makes you chuckle and you donât miss how a smile twitches on Damianâs face.
âThanks, I guess? Though heâs not that bad. Not at all.â
Damian just shrugs at your statement but you have the feeling that behind all the picking, thereâs fondness and a brotherly bond between him and Jason.
âAnyway, I have to go feed my animals. It was nice meeting you, Y/N.â Your jaw almost drops, but you manage to avoid it before your lips twist into a wide smile.
Damianâs calling you by your first name. When Jason has told you that he never does that with anyone. Not even Dick.
âYou too, Damian.â
He nods in goodbye before going towards the exit of the ballroom. You leave the dance floor and take a deep breath. Well, that wasnât so bad. It was fun, actually.
You decide that you need some air in order to take all of the recent events in and head towards the open patio door that looks out to the gardens. Even though you can still hear the party, as the door is still open, the change of ambience is very much welcomed. You inhale the fresh air before releasing a content sigh at having a moment for yourself.
You lean on the railing surrounding the few steps that separate you from the grass as you gaze up at the clear sky, the moon illuminating the patio and the late summer evening breeze creating ripples along the surface of the pool. Itâs a nice break from the scorching nights that Gotham can have along the summer. You canât wait for the fall.
As you let yourself relax in the quiet evening, you think back to what has just happened. You just met two of Jasonâs brothers. And everything went well. You still canât believe it. You let out a soft chuckle at the thought that your social skills havenât failed you this time. Despite usually needing a lot of time with a person to open up and build trust, youâre surprised at how easy it came to you with Dick and Damian, already getting along and having the feeling that youâre going to become good friends. Family, someday.
Maybe itâs due to Dickâs easygoing personality or the things that you have in common with Damian but you feel like itâs more than that. The knowledge that these kind of connections donât come easy for them either, given all the secrets that they have to keep and the fact that they donât have to tiptoe around you. The fact that you all love Jason Todd dearly.
Youâre just glad that you click with them as well as you did all that time ago with Jason. Who, by the way, is still MIA. Itâs been a good while since you saw him. Where could he be?
âDo you want some?â a voice suddenly says, interrupting your thoughts and making you turn towards its source.
Well, looks like the meeting-your-boyfriendâs-family night isnât over.
Tim Drake stands on the doorway, holding two glasses of champagne. Heâs wearing a suit as well but his appearance isnât as neat as Dickâs or Damianâs. His hair is slightly tousled and his tie is loosened around his neck. His blue eyes, a shade lighter than Dickâs, look kindly at you.
âSure, thanks,â you say as you take the glass that he offers you. The truth was that you werenât a big drinker, only having a few sips on scattered special occasions during the year, like champagne on New Yearâs Day or the rare instances in which you found yourself in glamorous parties like this.
You take a small sip of the sparkly drink as Tim comes to stand next to you.
âSo, what do you think of the gala? Having fun?â
âItâs alright. You all do know how to throw a party,â you answer.
âWhat can I say? If thereâs one thing weâre good at is appearances,â Tim says jokingly.
You nod with a smile while taking another sip, though this time you canât help the grimace that you make at the growing bitter taste of alcohol in your mouth.
âNot a fan?â
âNot really,â you respond honestly, deciding to leave the glass on the outdoor table for now.
âMe neither, actually.â
And then, your eyes widen when, just like nothing, Tim literally throws the content of his glass, his untouched and what youâre sure of is a very, very, expensive champagne towards the grass and leaves his now empty glass next to yours.
Seriously, what was wrong with rich people?
You shake the thought as you and Tim start making friendly conversation. Heâs telling you a story in which Jason faceplanted once during training, when it strikes you that it really is amazing how all the Robins somehow actually physically look like family despite not being blood-related. And itâs not just the coincidence that all of them have clear colored eyes and dark hair, but rather the way in which they hold themselves, something in their stance and attitude giving them a similar aura. An aura of shared hardships and experiences.
âIâm sorry that it took so long for us to meet,â Tim says after a small moment of peaceful silence. You shake your head and you can feel the shift in the air as his expression turns more serious and continues talking before you can say anything.
âI know that we can be a lot, and you havenât even met all of us.â You tilt your head, listening, waiting to see where heâs going with this. âThings between us and Jason are good, though of course, like with any family, there are some rough patches.â He pauses for a second, leaning with his hip on the metal railing while crossing his arms. âWe really wanted to meet you and we feared that something that we hadnât realized had been going on with Jason and that he was retreating again by refusing to introduce you to us.â
You shake your head again. âItâs not that at all, Tim, I promise. Things are good. He just gets doubtful sometimes and needs to take things at his own time.â
Tim nods, letting you know that he understands. âIâm just sorry that we boarded you like this, we thought it might be easier taking the pressure out of it. Instead of having a formal family dinner or something, just meet you today in case that Jason decided to bring you. All in all, Iâm glad we did, we probably wouldnât have met you for a lot longer, probably until it was strictly necessary, if we hadnât intervened.â
Youâre processing all the information when before you can reply, you finally hear Jasonâs voice again.
âY/N!â he calls as he approaches you after spotting you outside. âIâm so, so sorry for leaving you alone. I was ambushed by the guests before going to the bathroom, then Alfred asked me to go help him with something in the kitchen and then Dick couldnât fucking wait to ask me something about a case. It was just one thing after the other, Iâm so sorry,â he rambles, a hand running through his hair in distress, knowing how you hate this kind of events as much as him.
Just as he finishes his rant, he finally reaches you and as he takes your hands in his, you can visibly see how his distressed state morphs into a relieved one just by being next to you. Itâs like during your unexpected time apart Jason had been underwater the whole time and has just been finally allowed to come up for air to the surface and fill his lungs just by seeing you and being near you again.
You just shake your head and gently bring a hand to the nape of his neck to press your foreheads together so that he can ground himself and focus on you, showing him that youâre okay. You just know heâs feeling guilty for leaving you on your own when you two promised to be together to face the night.
âItâs okay,â you say softly in a low voice, trying to calm him.
And then, after connecting the dots between what Tim and Jason have just said, everything clicks. Itâs not a coincidence that youâve met Jasonâs brothers one right after the other and that Jason just so conveniently had been missing from your side to prevent that from happening. You canât help the small smile that pulls at your lips upon realizing what has happened, finding the Waynesâ antics and dramaticness quite entertaining.
âAnd donât worry, I had company,â you add.
And just as you say that, you can see how Jason feels movement to his right and turns his head like a hawk to find Tim shifting on his feet. Jason hadnât seen him earlier since you were the only one visible through the open door and once outside, Timâs side of the terrace was covered in shadows.
You see the exact moment in which Jasonâs gaze hardens staring at Tim, realizing just exactly what had actually happened, all of his family plotting to distract him so that they could meet you. You know that Jason isnât actually angry, just slightly annoyed from the ruse and from being kept away from you, and now heâs channeling all of that towards Tim, making it seem bigger than what it actually is.
âTimâŠâ Jason says through gritted teeth in a threatening tone as he separates himself from you and starts stomping towards Tim. Itâs almost comically funny how Tim immediately scrambles and bolts to the other side of the terrace, putting the outdoor table between him and Jason, extending his arms in front of him to protect himself as if he was some defenseless animal and not a well-trained vigilante.
You almost have to stifle a laugh.
Sibling dynamics at its finest.
âListen, Jason, I-â Tim starts to plead his case but before Jason gets too far away from you, you grab his hand again. And itâs incredible the way in which Jason turns towards you and immediately his posture softens. Tim doesnât waste the opportunity and escapes into the gala again, leaving you and Jason alone.
âItâs alright, they just wanted to meet me,â you say and Jason sighs, deciding to let the matter go and just come back to your arms, his hands on your waist, giving a small subconscious squeeze.
âYes, but they had no right to play with us,â he answers, pressing your foreheads together once again.
âI know. But, hey,â you lift your hand to push some hair away from his forehead, ânothing bad happened. Iâm still here.â
Jason nods and his gaze softens before closing his eyes, relishing in your touch. You close your eyes as well and you two stay in your embrace for a moment. Letting the night envelop you, surrounding yourselves with the evening sounds of the faded chatter from the party, the breeze rustling the bushes, the water in the pool, the night time insects and an owl in the distance.
âI think itâs time for us to leave,â Jason finally says, looking at you once again, having had enough of the social night.
âYes,â you wholeheartedly agree, wanting to have your boyfriend all for yourself.
With that said, Jason nods, kisses your forehead and takes your hand firmly in his in order to not lose you again and you two make your way out of the gala. You donât even bother to say goodbye to anybody. As you two leave, on the side of the ballroom, Dick, Tim, Damian and Alfred all stand in line, watching you fondly, glad to finally have met you and seen how happy Jason is with you. Before disappearing from view you give them a small wave and they smile.
You still have to meet Bruce, but thatâs a problem for another day.
When you finally get home and Jason closes the door behind you, the two of you having already decided that he would spend the night at your apartment, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. Finally home. You take a deep breath, shedding your social armor. Jason feels relief too at having finally left the manor, because even though the place will always be a home to him, the very definition of the word changed when he met you.
Jason watches you mesmerized as you leave your purse on a table and then move to the kitchen to drink a cold glass of water. He stands idly in your living room following your every move, a cast spell on him.
Youâre beautiful.
Even though your hair isnât as perfectly done as it was at the beginning of the evening and thereâs a tired drag to your feet, you are. You always are.
He still canât believe that youâre with him.
The way that you move around him as comfortably as youâd do if you were alone amazes him. It amazes him that you feel safe enough with him to just be yourself, not putting on any mask like you did in the gala with the attendees. Heâs just so immensely grateful that you let him see you like this, open and being so undoubtedly yourself.
Youâre saying something about cooking something quick or maybe ordering takeout when you brace yourself with a hand on the back of a chair to take off your heels with the other. But before you can take off your shoe, Jason softly grabs your hand, stopping you mid-rant.
He pulls you to follow him and you donât put any kind of resistance, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. The only sounds the passing cars on the street and the steps of your heels on the floor. Once you reach the couch Jason makes you sit on it and you watch as he kneels in front of you and then, with a care and gentleness that no one would expect from the man known as Red Hood, he begins to undo the straps of your heels.
And thereâs just something in the sight in front of you that makes your heart flip in your chest. How someone as big as him gets down on his knees before you, for once him being the one looking up at you instead of the other way around, almost as if worshiping the ground you walk on, as if you were the one that brought him back to life and not some mystical pit.
Now itâs you the one that watches him enchanted, wondering how you were so lucky as to have him love you. He takes one of your heels off, his eyes never leaving yours for a second, and then gives your free foot a slight massage to help the soreness out of it and you sigh in relief.
How is he even real?
And then, just before slipping the other heel off, with one of his warm hands on your lower calf, you watch with your heart in your throat how he kisses the inside of your knee.
You let out a small gasp and itâs crazy how much your heart is racing because you just know that he did it just for the heck of it, an act so loving, so simple, with no major intention rather than the selfish feeling of wanting to feel your skin against his lips.
But what raises goosebumps all throughout your body is not the action in itself, but rather the dark sparkle that crosses his eyes upon hearing your gasp, promising you something for later, for when heâs drawing shapes all across your body, as if tracing a map signaling a treasure. Except that the map itself is the treasure and heâs just taking his time exploring it, enjoying it, admiring it, worshiping it.
Jason then finally takes off your other heel and gives your foot the same quick massage treatment as the other one. When heâs done he gets back up on his feet and offers you a hand.
You take it and he pulls you to your feet again. And then, in the same silent comfort that has settled over you, with the same care and gentleness that Jason has treated you with, you slowly undo his tie, your gaze still fixed on his, saying a million different things that do not need to be said out loud. Most of them having to do with how much you love him.
After you discard the tie somewhere on the couch, you undo the first couple of buttons of his shirt, releasing him from the uptightness that comes with them and you feel his muscles relax even further under your hands. Next, you slip his jacket from his shoulders and he helps you take it off of him while he looks at you with the same intensity that you regard him with, reveling in how you take care of him.
Then, Jason rolls his sleeves up a bit his forearms before taking one of your hands in his and then, with his other arm around your waist, pulls you flush against his chest, practically fusing you two together, as if he could never pull you close enough, needing you as physically closer as possible, just as much as he needed oxygen, if not more.
âWe didnât have a chance to dance,â he whispers then with your faces inches from each other, still not disturbing the peaceful silence.
You hum in agreement and before you know it, youâre already swaying softly together in the living room, both of you with your eyes closed, your head resting on the crook of his neck and his on your hair. Thereâs no music but it doesnât need to be, you feel so at peace and content, none of the opulent galas in the world could compare to a quiet evening with Jason.
You have no idea how much time youâve spent there, barefoot and wrapped in Jasonâs arms, swaying to the sounds of Gothamâs nightlife and your own heartbeats, only knowing that you would gladly spend forever like this.
âThank you.â
You lift your head to find that Jasonâs already looking at you.
âFor what?â you ask in the same soft tone as him, a lilt of confusion in your voice.
âFor coming today.â Before you can respond he keeps talking. âFor sticking around. For putting up with my family.â A pause. His eyes leave yours to look to the side. He shrugs. âJust⊠for being with me, I guess.â
Your gaze softens and you feel a pang in your chest as you see Jasonâs insecurities eating away at him. You stop your swaying and bring your hands to Jasonâs face to make him focus on you, his hands moving instinctively to hold your waist. But Jasonâs still avoiding your gaze and you hate the doubt that you see creeping in your favorite shade of green.
âIâm always going to be here. Iâm right where I want to be. I love you. And Iâm not putting up with anything, I want you. I want to be part of all the parts in your life,â you say, softly caressing his cheek with your thumb, having the suspicion that these doubts have something to do with meeting his brothers tonight.
âI know. I justâŠâ Jason takes a deep breath closing his eyes, taking a moment to organize his thoughts before looking at you again. âI just canât believe that youâre still here. I have this⊠this feeling that one way or another Iâm going to screw up and lose you.â
You open your mouth to refute him but Jason shakes his head, presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes to concentrate on what he wants to say, and continues before you can say anything. âAnd I know, trust me, I know that you love me and that youâre not going to leave. You show me every single day. I was just afraid that if neither myself nor me being Red Hood hadnât driven you away, my family surely would.â
When Jason finishes he doesnât move, his forehead still against yours and his eyes still closed, as if he doesnât want to face what may come next, and his hands on your waist in the same position, if anything, holding onto you even tighter.
Holding onto you as if it were the last time, as if his confession would finally be the thing that would drive you away. You close your eyes as well for a second and take a deep breath.
How can you even begin to express how much you love this man?
Your heart is bursting with how much you feel for him. The love that you hold for him begins in the depth of it and as your heart pumps blood through your body, it also pumps that love through every single vein, nerve and cell in it. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Itâs something that lies beneath every single movement and action that you make, to the point where youâre not sure if what sustains you are your bones or your love for him.
And that love of course, is interlaced with the pain that comes from watching the one you love hurt. You know that Jason is telling you the truth, that he knows that youâre not going anywhere and that you love him. But thereâs this underlying fear in him, an instinct acquired from having lost all the good things in his life, things that he loved, from both his mothers to wearing the Robin mantle, that makes him subconsciously always expect the worst.
Thatâs why he prolonged you meeting his family for so long.
Without knowing, heâs always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the moment in which the rug will be pulled from under him and heâll fall into the void. He survived all the previous things, more or less, but he isnât sure that he would if you were to leave his life.
Because now everything, every single piece of him is rooted in you, like the earth orbiting the sun, the very thing that allows life on the planet in the first place. And thatâs what you are to him, a source of warmth, comfort and life. And heâs sure that if he didnât have that he would crumble. He might technically survive it but he wouldnât be the same.
But the thing is that just as much as he's rooted in you, youâre rooted to him. Heâs the anchor to your boat lost in a storm, the earth to your forever spinning moon. Heâs your anchor, your earth, your sun, your everything.
You know that the doubts and insecurities arenât going to disappear overnight but maybe, together, you two can make them lessen.
âJason. Look at me,â you say when you open your eyes once again, pulling back slightly so that you can look him square in the eyes. Jason sighs, not wanting the quiet moment, the infinite second in which he can just be in your embrace and forget everything else to end. But then he slowly opens his eyes, showing you his troubled thoughts.
âI love you. So much that I can feel it in every single part of my body. Itâs like youâre part of my DNA. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can make me want to leave you. And youâre not going to screw up anything. Call me selfish but I want to be near the things that make me feel strong, like I can achieve anything I want. The things that comfort me when I need it most, that are always there for me, even when Iâm not at my best and I feel like a burden.â
Now Jason is the one that shakes his head and wants to refute you but you move your thumb from his cheek to his lips to shush him. âThe things that make me feel loved. And youâre the only thing that makes me feel all of that. God knows I have my baggage too and it still amazes me that you understand me, that you want to carry it with me, that youâre proud to do so.â
You take a deep breath. âSo no, Iâm not leaving. Ever. Iâm always going to be here. And Iâm very glad that I met Dick, Tim and Damian tonight. Theyâre nice and they have allowed me to see more of you. And if there's something that I canât get enough of is you. Okay?â
Jason nods as he leans into the touch of your hand, his eyes bright with love and admiration for you. And then he closes the small distance between you and kisses you, gripping your waist tightly, one hand coming up to hold your face and deepen the kiss. Your hands drop to his shoulders and you donât waste a single second to kiss him back as fervently as he does. He hasnât answered to your reassuring words but you donât need him to. Heâs telling you everything you need to know in that kiss.
When his lips first came in contact with yours, he said, Okay.
Where his hands are grabbing your body so tightly but oh so gently, heâs saying, Youâre what I treasure most in this world.
And as you stand there in the middle of the living room, being kissed like nothing else exists except you two in this very moment, heâs saying, I love you.
You could have been like that just a couple of minutes or a couple of centuries for all you know, always forgetting the outside world when he kisses you. And when you finally part to catch your breaths, foreheads against each other, your hand softly caressing the hair at the back of his head, the shine in his eyes tells you everything that his lips have just said and more.
Still, he wants to make sure that youâre aware that he isnât going to let his thoughts eat away at him and so he finally whispers, âOkay.â
âGood,â you whisper back, your hand finding his cheek and caressing it once again. And then you find his lips again, because if thereâs one thing that you could spend doing forever without ever growing tired of is kissing him.
And without speaking, your lips tell him something too. Something that he feels as certain as the sun, the moon and the stars.Â
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
#Jason todd x reader#Jason todd fic#Jason todd one shot#Jason todd imagine#Jason todd#Red hood x reader#Red hood fic#Red hood one shot#Red hood imagine#Red hood#Jason todd imagines#Red hood imagines#The Gala#ThreeStarsInLine#Jason todd fluff#Red hood fluff#DC Comics#Batfam#Sometimes I think I'm funny jsjsks
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Frankie Morales x Reader fic
A little "friends with benefits" Frankie fic for my partner in crime @meanderingcaptainswanmusings - who loves Frankie Morales like I love Dave York!
Summary: You and Frankie are friends. Just friends and nothing more. But after a bad breakup with your dickhead ex and a failed attempt at a Tinder hookup, you find yourself on Frankie's doorstep one Saturday night in a bodycon dress and fuck-me heels. Turns out, Frankie is more than willing to oblige. After all, what are friends for?
8,221 words, rated E for general sexytimes and Frankie's skill with his mouth. AO3 link here
Hope you Frankie fans enjoy!
Frankie With Benefits
You step out of the Uber, muttering your thanks to the driver while closing the door with your phone already in hand to give him five stars and a good tip despite your foul mood. It wasnât his fault that your date was such a disaster after all, plus he didnât try to make small talk and played good music instead of some douchey podcast. You can still hear the faint Cuban rhythms as he drives off into the sultry Florida night, itâs both hot and humid as per usual and the contrast between the ice-cold AC in the car to the nearly triple-digit temps outside is a shock to your system that distracts you from noticing something is off until itâs too late.
âOh, for fuckâs sake.â
While the building in front of you is very familiar, itâs decidedly not your apartment complex. Your plans of changing out of your tight dress and fuck-me heels into some ratty old pjs and killing the bottle of wine chilling away in your fridge while you delete Tinder for good because men fucking suck has just been thrown a major curveball. You open Uber back up to check your ride history and squint at the screen through the false eyelashes that took forever to put on, realizing with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that you must have tapped on the wrong destination when you left the bar in such a rush while telling your date where to shove it. Thatâs the only explanation as to why youâre not currently looking at your front entrance.
Youâre looking directly at Frankieâs house instead.
Fuck.
Standing at the end of his driveway feeling very self-conscious in your bodycon dress with your driver already long gone, you go to book a new ride so you can slip away before any of Frankieâs nosy neighbors start to wonder about the woman loitering on their quiet little street in an outfit thatâs decidedly not âfamily friendly.â Or worse, before Frankie sees you. A minute ticks by, then two, and no drivers pop up, not even with ridiculous surge pricing that youâll gladly pay just to get home.
âCâmon, câmon. Ugh!â
You finally give up as the streets nearby stay frustratingly empty on the little map, stuffing your phone into your purse with a sigh and turning to face Frankieâs house. His living room light is on so heâs obviously home and not out with the guys tonight, you can see the soft yellow glow through the curtains like a beacon offering safe harbor after a shitty evening.
Itâs Frankie. If you canât be alone in your apartment drowning your sorrows in grocery store wine, thereâs really nowhere else youâd rather be.
âHe needs to resurface his driveway,â you mutter under your breath as you carefully pick your way up the asphalt towards his front door. Youâre certainly not wobbling with every step because you wore stilettos that make your butt look great but you canât actually walk properly in. Thatâs your story and youâre sticking to it. You manage to make it all the way without breaking an ankle, knocking and wondering if it would be less embarrassing to head barefoot to the bus stop at the corner instead of admitting why youâre here. But before you can kick them off and make a break for it Frankie answers, blinking in confusion when he sees you standing on his doorstep in a dress with a neckline that plunges more than an Olympic diver and shoes that cost half a monthâs rent, feeling like a complete idiot.
âHey,â he says, reaching up to scratch behind his neck as he takes you in with those dark, expressive eyes of his. âUmâŠdid we have plans tonight, or something?
He stares openly at your cleavage for a moment before his gaze snaps back up to your face with a sheepish look. If it was any other man youâd be annoyed, but Frankie has never ogled or leered at you in all the time youâve been friends, and you did just show up unannounced at his door with your tits on full display, after all. You donât mind if he takes a peek, someone might as well get to appreciate them tonight.
âNo,â you reassure him. âCan I come in? I just bailed on a shitty date and must have accidentally picked your address when I ordered an Uber instead of mine. I tried to book another one to take me home but thereâs no drivers around right now.â
Frankie nods. âSure, sure, of course,â he says, shuffling aside to let you in and closing the door behind you with a soft click. You kick off your heels with a sigh because it would be rude to wear them in his house and not because theyâre absolutely killing your feet, letting them tangle with his sneakers and already feeling a little better.
âMi casa et su casa,â he adds with a gallant sweep of his arm once youâre safely inside.
Youâve spent a decent amount of time at Casa Morales since you first met Frankie a few years ago and quickly became friends with him, coming over for everything from backyard BBQs with his Delta Force buddies and their families, to movie nights on his couch just the two of you, to hauling your laundry over in his truck when the machines in your building went out of order again and he insisted that you use his instead of spending money at a laundromat. You know your way around his place. His house is small, but itâs bright and airy just like the ones you sigh over while browsing Zillow in your apartment, and while Frankieâs life can be messy at times (mainly thanks to said Delta Force buddies, Santiago Garcia in particular) he keeps his home neat and tidy and welcoming. When you go into the living room thereâs nothing out of place, just a half-eaten bowl of chips and a bottle of beer on the coffee table. On a coaster, no less. The TV is still on, he was obviously enjoying a quiet night in for one when you crashed his evening in a dress that revealed more than it covered and shoes your credit card and arches were both still recovering from.
He follows you in, his presence at your back familiar and comforting despite your current âmen fucking suckâ state of mind. Frankieâs the lone exception at the moment.
âIâd drive you home but Iâve already had a few beers tonight. Wasnât planning on going anywhere.â
You wave off the apology in his voice. âItâs fine, Iâll just give it a few minutes and book another ride.â
âUh, about thatâŠ.â
You turn and look at him, confused. He gives you a âdonât shoot the messengerâ look with both hands raised and nods towards the TV.
âThe game just finished. All the Uber drivers are going to be down at the stadium by now.â
âSon of a bitch,â you swear, closing your eyes in frustration. You couldnât have picked a worse night to get stranded without a ride, everyone within a twenty mile radius of the stadium knows itâs impossible to get an Uber after any big event. Frankie knows it, you know it, you just didnât plan on your date being a lying asshole and having to compete with twenty thousand sportsball fans for a lift home. Thatâs it, you were done with dating apps for good, if you hadnât downloaded Tinder again you could be at home in bed right now having a threesome with your wine and your vibrator and as a bonus your feet wouldnât hurt.
Yeah, youâre pretty sure you have a few blisters. The damn shoes were just like men, looked so great at first and then rubbed you in all the wrong places.
âSooooo,â Frankie drawls when you flop down ungracefully on his couch, eyeing you carefully from his tactical position behind the coffee table. âYou were on a date tonight? I thought you said youâd given up on dating after Dickface McDickheadâŠ.oh fuck, please tell me youâre not back together with that asshole again?â
His nickname for your ex always makes you snort. Frankie was never his biggest fan. He wasnât Frankieâs either, hating the fact that you two were such good friends. When you finally broke up with him for good, Frankie threw a BBQ the following weekend and grilled you the best steak youâd ever eaten with a huge smile on his face.
âWhat are we celebrating?â Santi asked when he arrived, putting down the beer heâd brought and eyeing the streamers and balloons decorating Frankieâs backyard in confusion.
âThe fact that I wonât go to jail for throwing trash out of my helicopter,â Frankie said.
Santi stared blankly at him. âThe fuck are you on about, Fish?â
Frankie just grinned at you over Santiâs shoulder while you rolled your eyes and grabbed one of the drinks. He even had a party hat perched jauntily on top of his ballcap, and a piñata hanging up in the yard, âfor the kidsâ.
You took a few good swings at it with the bat he handed you while picturing your exâs face on the paper-mache.
The mere thought of getting back with Drew, aka Dickface, makes you shudder. âNo, Iâm not back with him, and Iâm still done with dating.â
You swipe some chips out of the bowl and tuck your legs under you, ignoring how high it makes your dress ride up your thighs with only a token effort to tug it back down.
âYouâre done with dating, but you were out on a date? Little confused here.â
Frankie sits down on the other end of the couch, muting the post-game recap on the TV and turning so that heâs facing you. Heâs all casual in jeans and a faded T-shirt that stretches over his broad shoulders when he twists, hair falling on his forehead in a mop of messy curls without his usual hat to cover them. You should feel out of place in your sexy little dress, full-glam makeup and the âeffortless beachy wavesâ that took you an hour, three different tutorials and a whole fucking lot of effort to achieve, but youâre far more comfortable here with him than you were with the man you ditched back at the trendy bar full of wannabe influencers with insanely overpriced cocktails. Comfortable enough to tell him the truth, with a little help from the tequila in the deconstructed margaritas that you drank.
âIt was supposed to be a hookup,â you mumble, feeling your cheeks go warm in a combination of embarrassment and alcohol.
His eyes go wide at that and he lets out a little cough of surprise. âThat explains the dress,â he says, glancing down at it again before quickly looking back up at your face.
You wave a hand up and down yourself. âDress, shoes, lip gloss,â you list off, not mentioning the rather skimpy new underwear that youâre one wrong move away from flashing him with. âI was tired of sitting home alone on Saturday nights, you know?â
âHey!â he protests, and you duck your head with a wince. Itâs Saturday night and he was sitting home alone until you showed up.
âSorry. No offense, Frankie.â
âNone taken, cariño. But only because itâs you.â
The casual endearment makes you feel even warmer, or maybe itâs just the PatrĂłn you downed before leaving Mr. Talk, Dark, and Liar Liar Pants on Fire back at the bar hitting your system.
âDeconstructed margaritaâ your ass, it was a shot of triple sec and a shot of tequila with a hideous up charge, and they didnât even include the lime.
You could leave it at that, suggest watching a shitty Netflix movie to pass the time until you can finally book an Uber and go home to change into something that isnât squeezing your ribs into new and interesting positions and drink the finest chardonnay Publix had for under ten dollars. Frankie wonât push, wonât judge, youâve been friends long enough to know that. Youâve seen each other through various highs and lows over the years, he was the first person you called when you got a promotion that youâd worked your ass off for, and when he found out his ex-fiancĂ©e was getting married you were the one who picked him up at the bar where he was drowning his sorrows and brought him home to drunkenly cry on your shoulder until he passed out.
If thereâs anyone in the world who you can trust with this, itâs him.
âThose last few months with You Know Who,â you start, meaning your ex and not Voldemort despite their many similarities, âwe were fighting like all the time. I knew deep down our relationship had become this flaming dumpster fire, but for some stupid reason I kept splashing water on it trying to put it out instead of walking away. And then we had the worst fight ever, and he saidâŠhe said-â
You could really do with another shot of tequila for some liquid courage right now. You settle for drinking the last of Frankieâs beer instead while he watches you carefully, tipping the bottle back to get every drop and then setting it down on the coaster with an audible thump.
â-he said I was a frigid bitch in bed and he would have better sex fucking a blow up doll instead of me. Thatâs what finally did it, I told him we were over. He tried to apologize and begged for another chance, but I just kept hearing it over and over again in my head and I was done. Finally done.â
A muscle ticks in Frankieâs jaw like the countdown clock on a bomb, you can see it even through the scruff of his patchy beard. He glances away for a second and you see his eyes close while he mutters under his breath in Spanish too soft and too fast for you to understand before his gaze snaps back to yours.
âI take it back, heâs not a dickhead,â he says, sounding completely calm. âThatâs an insult to actual dickheads. And heâs going to be lucky if he can still run his mouth like that once Iâve knocked out all his teeth.â
Even though heâs ex-military Frankie has never been one for that bullshit macho posturing, which is one of the things you like so much about him. He breaks up bar fights, he doesnât start them. To see him now, so calm and collected but with such an intense expression and not a hint on his face that heâs kidding or exaggerating, it sends a jolt right through you. His threat to your dickhead of an ex-boyfriend shouldnât be so sexy, butâŠ.
Damn.
You reach out and flick him lightly on the shoulder. âHeâs not worth it, and I really donât want to have to bail your ass out of jail at three in the morning again, Morales.â
âHey, that was one time!â he protests, adding in a mumble. âAnd it was Santiâs dumb idea.â
His annoyed pout just makes you laugh, shaking your head at how closely he resembles his namesake when he juts his lower lip out like that. Cutest catfish ever.
âSo,â he drawls, after you stop chuckling, âsince you didnât go back to that asshole, thank fuck, then who was the lucky guy tonight? Or unlucky guy, since you ditched him for far better company.â
You shrug, plucking idly at the fabric of your dress. âJust someone I matched with on Tinder. I really wanted to prove Dickface wrong, you know? That I wasnât uptight and sucked in bed. Swiped right on someone who didnât have a douchey shirtless mirror selfie in his profile, we met for drinks and everything was going great until a text popped up on his phone while he was showing me a picture of his dog. From his wife.â
Frankie winces. âSeriously?â
The notification lingered on the screen while he frantically tried to swipe it away, not that it would do any good. You were a fast reader, youâd already read the whole thing.
âYeah. Letting him know there were leftovers waiting for him in the fridge when he got home from work, with a bunch of kiss emojis and a âlove you babeâ. He tried to do the whole, âitâs not what you think, we have an open marriageâ bullshit, which sure, I bet he does, so I told him to call his wife and put her on speaker so we could clear that right up.â
âThatâs my girl,â Frankie grins.
The praise flows through you like the tequila, remembering how your date went pale as a ghost while you stared him down and his immediate attempts to backpedal.
âObviously he suddenly had a million reasons why he couldnât, so I stuck him with the bill and left. Hope he had the decency to tip, at least.â
You let your head fall back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The adrenaline rush youâve been riding since you told off Dickhead McDickface the Second and stormed out of the bar on your fuck-me heels is wearing off. You got fucked all right, fucked over.
âI really can pick em, canât I?â you ask, a rhetorical question if ever there was one. âWent from one asshole to another. A married asshole, no less.â
Thereâs a rustle of movement to your left and a touch to your shoulder that makes you turn your head to see Frankie has shifted closer to you on the couch and tilted his head to match the angle of yours while he brushes his knuckles lightly down your arm.
âHey, do you remember that woman I went on a first date with last year who brought her fifteen year old brother along? And we were supposed to see Poor Things? Who brings their brother on a date, let alone to a movie with that many sex scenes? Really, really, explicit sex scenes?â
You do remember, thanks to the texts he sent you with increasing speed until he was blowing up your phone and youâd barely finished one before the next popped up.
She brought her kid with her?
Wait, not her kid, itâs her brother.
Dudeâs like 13, what the hell?????
Okay, apparently heâs 15 heâs just âshortâ. THATâS NOT THE POINT!!!!!!!
WEâRE SEEING POOR THINGS??!!!!!
WHAT?
WTF?????????
PLEASE TELL ME THEREâS ANOTHER MOVIE WITH THE SAME TITLE THAT DOESNâT HAVE NAKED EMMA STONE IN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fuck, what do I do?
This is so fucking weird!!!!!!!! SHE BROUGHT HER BROTHER TO THE WEIRD NAKED EMMA STONE SEX MOVIE!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
His bewilderment came right through the screen with the increasing number of exclamation points and the memory makes you giggle. You still canât think of Poor Things as anything except The Weird Naked Emma Stone Sex Movie thanks to Frankie.
âSee?â he says with a smile, âI canât pick âem either. First date was over before the movie even started and Iâd already spent like fifty bucks on popcorn and drinks. Still follow her brother on Instagram though, heâs cool.â
You laugh even harder at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. âDating suuuucks,â you whine in your best angsty teenager impression.
âIt sucks so much,â Frankie agrees. âFuck that married guy. Wait, no, donât fuck that married guy.â
Now youâre both laughing, so close to each other on the couch that youâre practically touching at the knees. You think to yourself that Frankie has such a nice smile, none of that closed-mouth, thin-lipped thing some guys do as if smiling is an affront to their manhood. Frankieâs smile takes over his whole face, his eyes going squinty and crinkling adorably at the corners.
âI promise I wonât fuck that married guy,â you swear with mock solemnity, crossing your fingers over your heart like a Boy Scout when you finally stop laughing. You let your hand drop to the cushion in between the two of you and close your eyes with a sigh. âEven though I really, really, really need to get laid.â
As soon as the words leave your mouth you freeze, scarcely daring to breathe even as youâre sure you hear a sharp inhale from Frankie at the unguarded confession. Heâs so close to you on the couch. So close.
When you gather the courage to open your eyes and meet his dark gaze the air around you has changed, heavy with the weight of what you just said. Neither one of you moves to put a platonic distance back between you like so many other evenings on this couch when you get too close, sharing pizza and drinks and conversation for hours.
Maybe it wasnât such an accident that you ended up here, with him, tonight.
âYou know Iâd do anything for you, right?â he asks in a voice so low and thick with promise that it makes your stomach flip and a sharp throb hits you even lower down.
âAnything?â you repeat, your own voice higher than normal. Is he really offering that?
Frankie picks up your hand from where it lays on the couch, lifting it and keeping your eyes locked while he raises it to his mouth and brushes a slow, deliberate kiss along the back that makes you shiver as every last nerve ending rises to attention and begs for more.
âAnything,â he murmurs against your skin. âSay the word.â
His large thumb strokes over the fluttering pulse in your wrist, back and forth, back and forth, while his heavy-lidded eyes stare into yours.
You canât say youâve never thought about it, because you definitely have. Frankieâs stupidly attractive, with those thick curls that always escape out from under his baseball caps and his Roman coin profile. But when you first met he was still with his ex, and then he was single but you werenât, the timing never quite working out for anything between you except friendship and nothing else. Hell, by now heâs pretty much your best friend, the one you would call if you needed to bury a body knowing heâd bring the shovel. Thereâs no one else you trust as much as Frankie Morales, and thereâs no one else you want as much as you want him, right here, right now.
âKiss me,â you whisper, saying the words you always wanted to say to him.
He shuffles closer, his other hand sliding behind your neck as he brings your lips together. Itâs a little clumsy at first, your nose bumping his before he fits his mouth to yours. You feel his fingers press to the nape of your neck and the brush of his knee against your while he kisses you carefully, so soft and sweet and gentle.
At first.
Heat washes over you and itâs all because of Frankie, his kiss turning hot and hungry and demanding. You gasp into his mouth and kiss him back just as eagerly, hands fisting in his T-shirt to pull him closer. He makes a low noise in the back of his throat that you can practically feel, a sexy cross between a groan and a grunt, and pulls away from your mouth far too soon. But before you can protest the loss with more than a pout and pull him back, heâs dusting more kisses under the hinge of your jaw and along your neck, mapping a hot trail down the wide swath of bare skin your dress reveals between your breasts and nuzzling his face right into your cleavage. His hands go to your hips, bunching the fabric and pulling it up impatiently to your waist as he moves even lower. Everything happens so fast that it makes your head spin far more than the tequila and you lean back on the couch for support with your chest heaving and groping for any part of him you can reach. Frankie kneels on the floor, pulling your new underwear off as he goes and you lift your hips to help with anticipation pooling low in your stomach at the realization of what heâs planning to do.
He spreads your thighs apart and looks down between them at where youâre now completely bare and practically dripping with a rush of arousal. His gaze is dark, hungry, a look like nothing youâve ever seen before on his face replacing his usual easygoing expression.
âSheâs fucking gorgeous,â he says in that low voice, staring straight at your pussy. âAll pink and perfect and needy for some attention, isnât she? Donât worry baby, Iâm gonna take very good care of her.â
The breath catches in your throat at that, more than a little shocked by the filthy promise in his words. No man youâve ever been with has ever said anything remotely like that. Your nipples are firm points against your dress and you must be glistening with how wet you already are. Frankie kisses your inner thigh and mumbles, âlie back a little more for me,â while pulling gently on your hips to position you the way he wants. Youâre not about to refuse him anything at this point and you slide lower, feeling your dress ride up even more as you do. While youâre not fully naked yet you feel so exposed, lying with your legs wide open on the same couch where youâve watched so many bad movies and argued over words while playing Scrabble, because military acronyms donât fucking count, Catfish! Now heâs nestled between your bare thighs with his wide shoulders wedging them apart and you wonder dimly why you spent all that time not doing this, his insanely kissable mouth so close to your pussy that you can feel his warm breath when he exhales. It makes you tremble with anticipation and Frankie looks up, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken question behind them. You nod, answering without words. You want this.
He licks you, a slow, broad swipe with the flat of his tongue that has your head falling back and your legs spreading shamelessly wider. Then he does it again, and again, and again, burying his face so deep that you wonder vaguely how heâs even managing to breathe. He doesnât come up for air anytime soon, holding you firm against his mouth with his hands wrapped around your thighs and seeking out every last spot that makes you writhe and grind against him with moans and cries that you canât hold back spilling from your lips. Itâs loud, both the noises you make and the wet sound of him eating you out like youâre a feast and heâs been starved for days. Frankie makes his tongue a firm point and thrusts it inside you while keeping you spread, the feeling so intimate and erotic that your clit throbs and you absently cup a breast to ease the ache in your stiff nipple. He fucks you with his tongue a few times before he gives you another one of those long, slow licks that go the full length from bottom to top and he zeroes in on your needy clit as if he had a map leading him right to it. You feel his lips close around the swollen bud with a hard suck that has you squeezing your breast with one hand and sinking the other into his messy curls.
âOh fuck,â you manage to gasp, âFrankie, itâs so good. So good.â
He finally pulls back long enough to rasp, âI want you to come all over my face, baby,â before diving back in. You feel the prod of a thick finger against your dripping entrance, slipping in easily and soon itâs moving in tandem with the flick of his tongue over your clit. The dual sensation makes you whimper, tugging on his hair to urge him closer and rocking your hips. Another finger joins the first, stretching you even more and pressing along your velvety inner walls until he suddenly curls them and hits that spot, the one you almost forgot was there. He strokes it and itâs nothing but bone-melting, toe-curling pleasure that builds and builds relentlessly under your skin until thereâs nowhere else for it to go.
You cry out, your climax hitting with the force of a tidal wave and crashing over you. Frankie groans, a low rumble coming from his position between your legs as he clearly feels it in the squeeze around his fingers and the rush of more hot arousal that makes you even wetter and slicker. He rubs it all over his face just like he wanted, his fingers pumping in a lazy rhythm in and out of you until itâs finally over and youâre left limp and boneless on his couch with your dress bunched to your waist and one strap hanging off your shoulder. Youâre not sure exactly how you ended up like this, from knocking on his door ready to swear off men forever less than an hour ago to half-naked and panting from the best orgasm youâve had sinceâŠ.ever. When you manage to lift your head from the cushion to look at him his expression is just as dazed as yours must be even as his lips gleam and his cheeks and chin are damp with you.
âFuck,â he breathes, his chest heaving under his T-shirt like he just ran a marathon. âFuck, are you okay? Was that okay?â
Even with the AC blasting thereâs still not enough air in the room, it takes you a moment to find some so you can answer him. âYeahâŠ.yeah, Iâm okay. Itâs okay.â
Okay is an understatement, you donât even smoke and yet youâre ready for a cigarette now. You donât even make any move to tug your dress down and cover yourself, one leg still loosely propped on Frankieâs shoulder. He rubs a soothing hand on your thigh and carefully dislodges it so he can stand up, revealing the prominent bulge in his jeans thatâs now perfectly at your eye level. Your pussy clenches and throbs at the sight, he got that hard just from going down on you? He follows your gaze and smirks a little when he sees where youâre looking, brushing his hand against his fly.
âAll for you, baby,â he says, and reaches to pull you to your feet. âNot on the couch though. Bedroom. I want you in my bed.â
Bed, couch, floor, you really donât care and youâre already fumbling with his belt buckle and tugging his T-shirt out of his jeans. You drag your nails along the sensitive skin of his stomach right above his waistband and relish the way it makes him shudder, the muscles contracting under your touch. When you look up again he immediately swoops down and kisses you, this time with the taste of you still clinging to his lips and your scent all over his face. Itâs raw and messy, tongues and teeth and the little sound of triumph you make when you finally get his belt open. You feel him smile against your mouth while he starts to walk backwards and you have to follow him to work on your next goal, getting his T-shirt off. Heâs leading you towards his bedroom, and thank God his house is a bungalow so you donât have to waste time going up stairs. All thatâs between the two of you and his bed is a hallway, and it might as well be one of those funhouse corridors at the county fair with the way youâre both bumping against the walls and tripping over your own feet trying to navigate it. Frankie unabashedly gropes your ass with those large hands of his while he kisses you, not paying attention to where heâs going and knocking pictures on the wall askew with his shoulders. You keep tugging and pulling at his T-shirt, trying to get it off and thwarted by the fact that he wonât let go of your butt long enough to lift his arms.
âFrankie,â you whine against his mouth, shoving fistfuls of cotton up his back, âoff!â
He finally pulls back and yanks the shirt over his head with enough force that youâre sure he just completely stretched out the neck, tossing it aside without bothering to see where it lands. The warm expanse of his broad chest presses against you almost immediately, with what feels like miles and miles of bare skin under your exploring hands. His lips fasten to your neck and you tilt your head back, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he sucks hard enough to leave a mark. Youâll have to cover it before work on Monday, but, fuck it. Thatâs what concealer is for. If he wants to cover you in hickies like youâre teenagers having their first makeout session, youâll let him. Youâll let him do whatever he wants at this point.
âHang on.â
âItâs the only warning you get before he hauls you up with his hands under your thighs, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. He carries you the last few steps into the bedroom and closes the door with a kick of his foot that makes it slam shut. The sound makes you start before you grin down at him.
âImpatient, much?â
âTo have you in my bed at last?â he says, matching your grin with his own goofy smile. âAbso-fucking-lutely.â
You can take the man out of the military but you canât take the military out of the man, Frankieâs bed is made with such sharp precision that it seems a shame to mess it up.
Almost.
The mattress dips when he sets you down, knocking a pillow aside and the duvet no longer perfectly crisp at the edges. You go up on your knees while he stands next to the bed, reaching for where his belt hangs open and using it to tug him closer. It doesnât take much work to pop open the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down, the sound of the metal teeth parting shockingly loud against the quiet of the room. You reach a hand in and feel the heat of his skin even through the soft material of his underwear, while he stands as still as a statue except for the rise and fall of his chest. He lets you touch and explore and you trace the very long and thick outline of his erection as it twitches and presses eagerly against your hand. Fuck, Frankie is big. The kind of big thatâs going to stretch you so deliciously. The kind of big that youâre going to feel the day after. Maybe even longer.
And itâs all yours tonight.
His jeans are quickly joined on the floor by your dress, as you go from bodycon to full frontal. You might have been nervous about finally getting completely naked, if it wasnât for the unexpected sight of the pattern on his boxer-briefs.
âFrankie,â you laugh, âyou actually have fish themed underwear?â
Sure enough, thereâs several different types of fish swimming around on the fabric, including his whiskered namesake. When you look back up from the cartoon catfish smiling jauntily across his groin you can see that his ears have gone bright red in embarrassment.
âIt was a gag gift from the guys,â he mumbles, not meeting your eyes, âtheyâre really comfortable, and well, I wasnât exactly expecting to take my pants off in front of anyone tonight, you know.â
You rest your hands on the waistband and trace a nail along the bare skin just above, trying and failing to stifle the urge to giggle.
âWanna put your pants back on then?â you ask, teasing the sensitive spot below his navel.
âFuck no.â
His lips crash back down on yours again, his arms circling your waist. The Finding Nemo joke you were about to make is immediately forgotten as you blindly peel the boxers off, letting the school of fish puddle at his feet and immediately get kicked away. You wrap a hand around his cock, so long and thick that it makes you ache with the thought of having it inside you. God, you need this. You need him.
Frankie lets out a deep groan against your mouth when you start to stroke, dragging your hand up and down the length of him from root to tip and back again. You rub your thumb over the sensitive head and twist your fingers under the crown, teasing out all the sensitive spots and figuring out what he likes. A hard grip, bordering on rough, has his chest heaving and his hips jerking while his cock throbs in your hand.
âJesus Christ,â he bites out. âLike that, baby, just like that.â
The sheer unguarded pleasure on his face gives you everything you wanted tonight with your dress and the heels and the lacy underwear. You feel sexy. Desired. Powerful. Able to bring a man to his knees with your touch. Literally, Frankieâs legs start to buckle and he has to brace himself against the bed to stay upright. You keep stroking him until he finally pulls your hand away gently and kisses your open palm before joining you on the bed. He practically jumps onto it in his eagerness, making you bounce with the movement.
âCondom?â he asks, twisting towards his nightstand, âI have some-â
âIâm good,â you interrupt. You want to feel him inside you without that barrier. âIâm on the pill.â
His arm drops from where he was reaching for the drawer. âThatâs the best news Iâve heard all month.â
You never would have fucked your Tinder date without a condom, but this is Frankie. Your Frankie. You trust him. He rolls on top of you and your trust only grows when he hesitates, looking down into your eyes.
âAre you absolutely sure about this? We can always stop.â
He pushes a lock of hair out of your face with a gentle touch and you know without a doubt that if you wanted to stop he would without complaint even though he hasnât come yet. You run your hands up his arms and feel the tension in his biceps, the strain of holding himself back. Heâs braced above you, his hair a complete mess, gorgeously naked and hard as a rock, and you are one hundred percent sure about this.
âI donât wanna stop.â
You wrap your legs around his waist, a perfect fit between your thighs. Frankie angles his hips while he leans down for another kiss and you feel the hot slide of his cock as he finds your entrance with that pilotâs accuracy of his, then the press of the blunt head as he starts to push inside. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust to the stretch and burn. And it does burn, in the very best way. Itâs been months since youâve had sex, and far longer since youâve had good sex, your frustration had built to a fever pitch under your skin and Frankie just lit a match. You both feel it when you open for him fully, that final slide is smooth and easy and he buries himself right to the hilt.
âFuuuck,â he bites out. âTook me so fucking good, perfect fucking pussy.â
His dick is pretty damn perfect too, in your opinion, filling you up and creating the most delicious friction when he starts to move. You pull his head down for another kiss before he buries his face in your neck and rocks his hips into yours, gradually building the rhythm while you run your hands along his back and feel the muscles ripple and flex with each thrust. Itâs everything you needed and more, the thick drag of him inside you has you arching your back and crying out and it only seems to spur him on even more. He plants a knee on the bed and lifts your leg, shifting his hips so that he can go even deeper. You clutch helplessly at his sheets when the tip of his cock finds your sweet spot and make a noise you donât even recognize, a throaty moan pulls from your throat while your toes curl and your pussy throbs.
âFrankie,â you manage to gasp, clutching both his shoulders and gripping him even tighter from the inside, âoh god, there! Right there!â
âThatâs it baby,â he murmurs into your skin. âCome all over my cock.â
He leans over you, thrusting hard and balancing on one hand to reach down with the other so he can work your swollen clit. The first swipe of his fingers on the sensitive bud sends a jolt through your entire body that melts into sheer unadulterated pleasure. With a few more youâre teetering right on the edge, and then Frankie grinds especially deep on his next thrust and presses down hard with his thumb. It grips you and doesnât let go, your second climax of the night is even stronger than the first and has you squeezing him as if youâre trying to drag him even further inside, contracting along the length of his cock while he grits his teeth and fucks you through it. When the aftershocks finally stop and you relax back into the mattress with a sigh Frankie pulls out, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips and laying down next to you.
It takes you a few moments in your post-orgasmic haze to notice that heâs still hard, his cock is practically flush to his stomach and glistening with your arousal.
âYou didnât?â you ask, confused as you glance down.
He follows your gaze with a strangely bashful look. âNot yet. I wantâŠI want you to ride me.â
That sends another hot rush right between your legs, suddenly wanting it desperately too. Youâre not sure if youâre going to be able to walk afterwards, especially not in those stupid heels, but itâs going to be so fucking worth it.
Frankie stretches out fully on the bed, those long legs and broad shoulders taking up so much space on it. Luckily thereâs more than enough room for you right there on his lap. You swing a leg over, hands pressing down on his chest for balance while he looks up at you with that crooked grin he always gets when heâs especially pleased about something. A sinful roll of your hips along his thick erection only makes his smile wider when he feels how wet you still are.
âTake me in,â he begs shamelessly, hips moving under you and hands roaming over your skin. âPlease, baby.â
âWell, since you asked so nicely.â
Itâs another delicious stretch, sliding down his thick erection and feeling him rub you in all sorts of interesting new ways from this angle. Once youâre seated fully you give yourself a moment before you start to move, his heart racing under your palm and his cock held snug and warm deep inside you.
Frankieâs done so much already for you tonight, this is for him. You want to give him just as much pleasure as he gave you, make it just as good for him when you start to roll your hips again to take him in again and again and again. His hands find your thighs and flex against them while he watches with a rapt expression, eyes glued to where youâre joined before looking up to take in the full sight of you riding him just as he wanted.
âGood?â you ask, gasping the word out.
âSo fucking good,â he groans. His hips lift under you right as you go down on the next stroke and itâs even better, the way you just fit. You use muscles you didnât even know you had, increasing your pace and riding him hard. The cords on his neck pop when he throws his head back against the pillow, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring with each exhale of breath. He has to be close, you can sense it in the increasingly desperate noises he makes and the way his fingers dig into your skin as he holds you steady on top of him. Your breasts bounce and your thighs are burning with the effort of maintaining the rhythm but you donât stop, canât stop, you need Frankie to fall apart just like heâs done for you twice already. You want to see the look on his face and hear the noises he makes when he comes, adding a circle of your hips that makes his eyes close and his body jerk under you. He feels even harder now, and your legs arenât the only thing thatâs burning. Frankie is hitting every sweet spot inside of you, filling you so deep and full that the familiar prickle and spark is starting again. You werenât expecting to come for a third time, but then again you werenât expecting anything else that happened tonight and itâs definitely happening. Frankie thrusts up with a growl, yanking you down on him with the same motion and holding you there while you feel him pulse hot and he lets out a long, loud moan like no other noise heâs made all night. The sound and the sensation make you molten, almost there and even deep in the throes of his own pleasure he reaches for your clit and gives it a pinch thatâs all you need to fall over the edge with him. With your hands braced on his chest you throw your head back and let it wash over you while you keep rolling your hips to draw out more and more of those gorgeous sounds out of him until he finally starts to soften. You collapse in a heap on his chest and his arms immediately wrap around you, lips brushing against the top of your head while you bury your face against his sweaty chest and your heartbeats slowly go back to normal.
Itâs nice.
Itâs more than nice.
You could get used to it.
You canât. You shouldnât. Youâre just friends.
Friends who just fucked rather spectacularly.
Fuck.
After a few moments you slide off of him to lie on your back, looking up at the ceiling instead of at him. Now things are going to be all weird and awkward and as amazing as the sex was, it wasnât worth the inevitable end of your friendship. Silence stretches between you and creates more and more space in its wake.
âThereâs probably Ubers available now,â you say at last, keeping your gaze away from his face so you donât see his expression shift from lover to stranger. By the time the driver gets here youâll have your dress back on and your feet shoved into your shoes and you and Frankie can start pretending this never happened. Maybe that will work.
Thereâs a snort from next to you. âYeah. Thatâs not happening, Iâm driving you home tomorrow. After we sleep. And shower. And stop at that diner on 53rd cause Iâm gonna need one of those giant lumberjack breakfasts to recover from this.â
You feel yourself flush a bit, as ridiculous as it is considering youâre naked in his bed with âthisâ still sticky on your inner thighs.
âIâm not going to a diner in that dress,â you say, still looking at the ceiling and adding silently, âor those shoes that could double as torture devices.â
âSo you wear one of my T-shirts or something,â Frankieâs voice trails away into a jaw-cracking yawn before he continues, âweâll figure it out in the morning. Fuck, you really did a number on me.â
Yawning is contagious, you can feel one building and youâre suddenly on the verge of falling asleep thanks to the number he did on you and the incredibly comfortable bed that you never want to leave. Best sex youâve had inâŠ.ever, all thanks to Frankie. But you donât give in to the urge to just close your eyes and go to sleep, as tempting as it is, turning your head to look at your best friend instead and finding him looking back at you in the dark.
Heâs still Frankie. Youâre still you.
Youâre still friends.
âFrankie? Will we figureâŠthis out in the morning?â
His fingers lace with yours under the blankets and he gives you a soft smile.
âYeah. We will, baby, I promise.â
When you fall asleep youâre on your side with Frankie plastered to your bare back, his arm firm around your waist like heâs afraid you might try to sneak away in the middle of the night. The thought had occurred to you, to escape all the morning after awkwardness. Frankie isnât just a hookup or a one-night stand though, he means so much more to you than that. So you lay your hand over his and relax into his embrace with a sigh, wondering as you drift off if heâll let you borrow his prized vintage AC/DC T-shirt to wear homeâŠ..
âŠ.and if heâd be up for another round in the shower in the morning.
The answer to both turns out to be a resounding yes.
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Barry knew something was wrong when he woke up that morning, but he couldn't place what. There was nothing wrong in the house, nor with his family. His team were as normal as they could be, and none of his rogues had gotten out, nor was anyone causing any trouble in Central City. Then, just as he'd gotten off work at the police station, an emergency meeting for the Justice League was called. Ugh, David's gonna be pissed that he has to call out!
The Watchtower, when he got there, was a mess. Heroes were obviously panicking, and there must be magic users on board because there were things flying every which way. The meeting room, however, was somehow worse.
"What the hell is going on?" The Flash demanded after ducking behind a chair.
"Constantine and Deadman are on a warpath!" Aquaman helpfully supplied from where he was hidden behind his own chair.
"I gathered that much," Flash shouted over the noise of a chair being shattered against the wall behind him.
Aquaman scowled at him. "The hell do you want me to say? I don't know what's got them so upset!
The door opened again, announcing Batman's presence. He cleared his throat and the room instantly fell silent. Things kept flying around, but they were much more lax than they had been. Cautiously, the gathered heroes emerged from their makeshift hiding places to sit in their chairs.
"What's this about, Constantine?" the Dark Knight asked once everyone was seated.
Instead of the Brit, the ghost beside him was the one to answer. "You idiots-" he growled, "-have really fucked up this time!" he shouted.
Flash idly noticed that only the heroes operating in America were present. Huh. He had a dream just like this last night!
"Slow down," Wonder Woman tried to placate, "What's going on?"
Now it was Constantine's turn to talk. "The US Government are more aware of magic then any of us-" He clearly meant the JLD. "-are comfortable with. The fact that they somehow hid it until now is baffling."
Since when is the US Gov. aware of anything? Flash quietly wondered.
Deadman, visible to everyone and slightly calmer than before, said, "It's been brought to my attention that your government as been targeting my people." He held up his hand and raised his voice to stop anyone from interrupting him before they could. "They've taken a child."
This time, both the ghost and the occultist allowed the noise to overtake the room. Superman was the one to put a stop to it by directly asking the two, "What do you mean they've taken a child?"
Zatanna, fashionably late, entered the room and clicked on the projector like this entrance had been practiced. If Flash didn't know any better, he would've thought she had practiced it. As the screen lit up, she took place beside her two teammates. "Phantom is a small time hero in a nowhere town in Illinois - at least, it usually sticks to Illinois - called Amity Park. We've been keeping tabs on the place, though Deadman here is the only one to have ever had repeated contact."
On the projector screen was the picture of a child near or in his mid-teens. He wore a black HAZMAT suit with white accents, white knee high boots, and white elbow gloves. His hair was white and his eyes the colour of cartoon radioactivity. He was snarling in the photo, obviously having been taken during a fight, if the ready stance was anything to go by.
When Zatanna moved to the next slide, it was an overshot of a place that was somewhere between being a town and a city. It was big enough that not everyone could possibly hope to know everyone, but small enough that everyone knew someone who knew someone. Based on the experience of several heroes, as well as several different statistics, it didn't look like the kind of place that would have a lot of police needed crime, let alone a dedicated hero.
"Several World Ending events were started and stopped here." Constantine continued, "Remember six months ago, when natural disasters erupted all over the planet? We tracked the epicenter to here. Same as four months ago when three quarters of the planet's population took an impromptu nap."
The slide was changed to show an empty field. "Two months ago," Deadman picked up, "The entire town and everyone in it disappeared off the face of this planet." Again, he waited out the uproar from the Justice League, continuing as though uninterrupted after they'd quieted down. "Three days later, it all reappeared," The picture was replaced by another overshot of the town, but there was a green tint to it. "A week later, I was called back to my home in the IÌ·ÍÌÌżÌÌn̶ÍÌÌČÍÌ€ÌȘÌ
ÍÍf̶ÌÌ°ÌŹÌ€ÌÌÌiÌ”ÍÌ«ÍÍÌÍnÌžÌźÍÌÌÌÌÌÌÌiÌ·ÌŹÌ«Ì€Ì±Ì±ÌÍÍtÌ·ÍÌȘÌÌÌżÍĂšÌŽÌÌ ÌŽÌȘÌ ÍÌÍÌÌR̻̔ÍÌșÌŻÍe̞̫ÍÌÌÌÍÍÍÍ È§Ì”Ì̻̩ÌÍÌÍlÌŽÍÌÍmÌžÍÌŠÌÌ ÌÌ„ÌÌÍÌsÌ¶ÌąÍÌłÌȘÌŠÌčÌÍ . That is where I offically met young Phantom."
"Why is it green?" Aquaman wondered.
"Were you keeping tabs on the place before or after this all happened?" Batman asked over him.
"Before," Zatanna answered, "An interdimensional rift opened up in the town eleven months and five days ago. A second one opened up in the same town ten months and two days ago."
"Why didn't we know about it?" Flash asked, nothing else joining the pure curiosity in his voice. "This kinda seems like something all of use should've been told about."
The magician shook her head. "Because this is our area of expertise, not yours. None of you could've done anything except make things worse if you knew."
The speedster nodded, accepting the answer easily. He didn't like working with magic. He didn't understand it, and it took way too long to actually start believing in the stuff, but he knew there was no way he'd be useful in situations that relied on magic. Best leave that to the professionals.
"I went to the town to scope things out and met Phantom," Constantine said, the slide changing to show another picture of the young hero. He was hiding in an alley, staring at his hands with something akin to fear in his eyes. "He let me take a look at the rift, explained a few things to me, and then we set up a means of contact, though he only ever talks to Deadman."
"Wait," Robin spoke up from where he was beside Batman, "I know that place!" Batman didn't show any reaction other than turning to look at his protege. Robin, for his part, glided smoothly past the look from his mentor. "Me and the rest of my team passed through there about three months ago. We met the town hero, but it wasn't Phantom."
"What do you mean?" Wonder Woman asked.
"The town's hero is called Red Huntress. She's helped out the Young Justice a few times in the past few months with some supernatural issues. She deals mostly with ghosts, though."
Deadman bristled, obviously not liking something that the boy had said.
"Oh?" Superman asked, "What did she tell you guys?"
"That Phantom's one of her rogues." Robin said, "Apparently, he causes a lot of property damage and doesn't stick around to help with relief efforts. She told us that he also kidnapped the mayor, and has attacked the local high school too many times to count."
"That's a load of shit," Constantine muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "Phantom has only ever worked to protect his town. Red Huntress didn't show up until two months after he started his work!"
"We wait to act until we have more information," Batman, the paranoid bastard, ordered, "As soon as we know exactly who we can trust and what we're going into, we'll stick to recon."
Deadman slammed his hands on the table. "You're government took a child! This is not the time for recon! This is time to act!"
"Recon." Batman stood. "Robin, I want a report from you about your team's interactions with Red Huntress, as well as a report from herself. Constantine and Zatanna, I want a full report on everything you know about Amity Park and whatever's going on there. Dismissed." Then, he walked out of the room, Robin trailing closely after him.
"Um, Bat?" Fash stood, stopping Batman and Robin in the doorway, they both turned to face him, "Maybe we should hear them out? This sounds serious."
Batman stared at Flash for a moment longer before walking back into the room. He gestured for the three present members of the Justice League Dark to continue.
Deadman had a small look of relief flash over his face. "Your government's been sending ghost hunters to Amity Park for the better part of a year now. They were dead set on catching Phantom, and now they have. We don't know-" He cut himself off. After a few seconds, he disappeared completely. Constantine's and Zatanna's phones both went off. Nearly an entire minute after Deadman disappeared, the alarms in the Watchtower went off.
"Fuck," Flash swore.
Part 2 Part 4
#Time Loop: Ghosts of the Present and Future#part 3#dcxdp#dc x dp#dcu#danny phantom#writing#my writing#justice league#justice league dark#deja vu#I promise that there's no errors. You are reading the correct part
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i love hearts intertwined. how did you think of that idea? like what was ur inspiration?? cause its hella creative props to u also can i ask for a y/n x oscar piastri where oscar gets jealous about how close you are to lando since you both grew up together. he gets all cold and distant. he starts ignoring you. you brush it off for a few days but it gets too much. he hears you cry to lando over the phone and he rushes in in tears to apologize. make it angsty with happy ending
hi! thanks for all ur support!! as for how i come up with ideas, i just think about what i would like to read and then i just get started by brainstorming on how i want to write them. as for "hearts intertwined" i have been loving the idea of rosberg!sister falling for lewis because it has all the tropes ever (brothers (ex) best friend, enemies to lovers, rivals, friends to enemies to strangers to lovers)! anyway here's your story! hope you enjoy!
my heart hurts (op81)
the clinking of silverware and murmur of conversation filled the bustling restaurant. you and oscar had finally snagged a quiet corner table after a long day of practice. across from you, lando held court, recounting a hilarious story from your childhood.
"and then, there was the great custard incident," lando boomed, his laughter echoing. "remember, (y/n), when you-"
you doubled over, giggling. "oh my god, lando, don't!" heat rose to your cheeks at the memory, a childhood prank that involved a particularly disgruntled neighbor and a runaway bowl of dessert.
oscar, however, remained silent, his fork poised mid-air, a frown creasing his forehead. he watched you, his gaze lingering a little too long on the way your laughter lines crinkled around your eyes, the way your hand brushed against lando's arm playfully as you swatted him away.
lando, thankfully, oblivious to the undercurrent, continued, "and there you were, covered in custard, trying to explain to mrs. henderson it was just a... 'culinary experiment'."
you snorted, tears welling up in your eyes. "god, i miss those days." you reached out, bumping fists with lando playfully. "thanks for always having my back, even when i was a disaster."
a beat of uncomfortable silence followed. lando, finally noticing oscar's stony expression, cleared his throat. "right, well, enough about the past. oscar, how's the car feeling this week?"
oscar forced a smile, his tone clipped. "good. ready to take on the track." his gaze flickered back to you, a flicker of something akin to hurt in his eyes before he turned back to his plate, pushing the food around with a distinct lack of appetite.
the rest of the meal was strained. you tried including oscar in the conversation, but his responses were short, devoid of his usual easy banter. you stole worried glances at him, the carefree joy of your reunion with lando now tinged with a growing sense of unease.
as you exited the restaurant, lando clapped oscar on the shoulder. "good luck this weekend, mate. you'll smash it."
oscar mumbled a response, his eyes glued to the ground. the walk back to your apartment was filled with a suffocating silence. you knew, with a sickening certainty, that the carefree evening you envisioned had taken a sharp turn into jealousy lane
the silence in the car was deafening. oscar, usually a chatterbox during drives, hadn't uttered a word since leaving the restaurant. you kept glancing at him, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "what's wrong, oscar?" you finally asked, your voice barely a whisper.
he shrugged, not meeting your gaze. "nothing." but his tone was clipped, a stark contrast to his usual warmth.
his hand did not hover near your thigh, he didn't kiss you at the red lights, he didn't ask if you were cold with the AC. oscar had shut himself out.
over the next few days, "nothing" became your new normal. oscar became a ghost, barely acknowledging you. you'd catch him staring at you, then quickly look away. calls and texts went unanswered. you tried brushing it off, clinging to the hope it was just race week jitters, but the sinking feeling in your gut wouldn't budge. while sleeping he would mummer a goodnight and barely cuddle,
tonight, the dam broke. curled on the couch, tears blurring your vision, you dialed lando. "he's just being weird, lan," you choked out, your voice thick with unshed tears. "like, distant. like i don't even exist. i can't lose him lan, i really can't. but i'll leave if he wants because i just want him to be happy. even if it means its not with me"
suddenly, the front door slammed open. you flinched, dropping the phone. oscar stood frozen, his face pale, your tear-streaked cheeks a stark picture in the dim light. he had heard everything.
"(y/n), i..." his voice cracked, a battle raging in his eyes. before he could finish, a fresh wave of tears welled up. "oscar, what did i do?"
he took a shaky step towards you, then stopped. "i am so so so so so sorry baby." the confession tumbled out, raw and laced with shame. "i regret what i did. it hurt my heart being away from you. on purpose. seeing you with lando, so close... it made me jealous."
you stared at him, bewildered. "jealous? oscar, lando's practically my brother. we grew up together!"
he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "i know, i know. it's stupid. but seeing you laugh with him, the laugh you kept just for me..." his voice trailed off, heavy with regret.
a choked sob escaped your lips. "oscar, you're the one i love. the way i look at lando, it's nothing compared to you." you stood up, tears falling freely.
he mirrored your movement, his face etched with pain. "i messed up, (y/n). i let my insecurities cloud everything." his voice broke. "can you forgive me?"
you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. he held you tight, his body trembling.
"just promise me," you whispered, pulling back slightly, "a) you'll tell me when something bothers you and b) you'll never let jealousy come between us again."
he cupped your face, his eyes filled with newfound resolve. "never. you and lando, your friendship is beautiful. i'll never take that away." he leaned in, his kiss a promise whispered against your lips.
the following days were filled with apologies, laughter, and tentative rebuilding. oscar apologized to lando, acknowledging his insecurities. you realized communication, even the uncomfortable kind, was the key.
that sunday, as you watched oscar race, a different kind of excitement bubbled within you. it wasn't just about his victory, but the fact that you had weathered the storm, emerging stronger as a couple. the bond you shared, forged in vulnerability and love, was a trophy far more valuable than any podium finish.
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well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!
leave a like! leave a note!
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#oscar piastri#f1 x y/n#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri angst#oscar piastri blurb#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#formula one#op81 x reader#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x oc#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x oc#f1 smut#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#mclaren racing#lando norris x reader
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Secret's Out | Miguel Diaz x Lawrence!Reader
Req: please do Miguel and cryptic pregnancy trope!!! like the process of her giving birth and can this be lawrencereader?? if not thatâs okay :) CW: cryptic pregnancy, secret relationship, giving birth, Johnny being Johnny. (unedited)
It was no surprise Reader and Miguel fell for each other. Living in the same apartment complex just across from each other, seeing one another everyday, not to mention he was her father's karate student. It was a recipe for love.
It was also a recipe for disaster, as both Miguel and Reader knew that her father was going to have his head if he ever found out about them.
Johnny Lawrence was old school. He wouldn't like the idea of his star student getting together with his daughter. He didn't even like the idea of her dating even though she was 19 years old and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, thanks to yours truly of course. He'd taught her everything she needed to know about defending herself, not letting anyone sell her bullshit, and being so assertively herself that no one could argue with her about anything. He prided himself in at least raising a daughter who was headstrong, though that sometimes came back to bite him in the ass.
It wasn't one of those days, thankfully, and he was able to work in peace as she helped out around the dojo. She was mostly in charge of helping in demonstrations and setting up dummies as needed, but for the most part, things were going well. It was with LaRusso that Johnny had any problems with as they still butt heads from time to time on how to teach their students.
Reader was talking to Anthony and Devon about something when she felt a pain shoot up her back and through her stomach. She was a tough young lady, so she didn't let it show very much, but as her eyebrows scrunched up, the two students gave her weird looks.
"Are you okay, Reader?" Devon asked, looking her over carefully.
The pain lingered but she nodded. "Yeah, must be a muscle spasm or something."
She rubbed her back, thinking it would pass quietly. Though she'd never felt pain like that before, she wasn't all that concerned with it and she dragged Anthony with her to grab the bo staffs for the next and final lesson. It wouldn't be long before she got to go home.
Halfway through the lesson, though, the same pain surfaced and she felt like she was cramping. It threw her off her drills with the bo and she groaned, waving off the concerned looks of those around her. She didn't need them gawking at her and staring. She didn't finish the lesson with everyone and it pissed her off to no end, but she decided not to dwell on it. The last thing she needed was unnecessary stress on top of whatever it was bothering her.
She walked into the bathroom of Miyagi-Do while the students called it a day. Her father and Daniel cleaned up the yard and patio while she splashed some water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt her face with the back of her hand, but nothing felt off and she didn't look like she was sick. She just looked like she was in pain, which she was, but she quickly shook that look off and decided to finish the day's work. Going home would be fine.
However, she could barely sweep the interior of the house because she kept cradling her belly and groaning. The pain was consistent and happening more often. When her dad and Mr. LaRusso came in to close up, hardly anything was done and they had to question why.
"Reader, you're usually done and gone by now," Daniel said.
She waved him off with a huff. "Cut me some slack, old man. I feel like shit."
"Ah, it's that time of the month," Johnny said, seeing the way his daughter held herself and was slightly slouched over. "You always pull through, you'll be fine."
"Fuck off," she said, knowing damn well he didn't understand a woman's period. She thought about slugging him in the gut and giving him a taste of what that felt like when the pain shot through her again, harder and worse than before. She cried out and almost fell to the floor, only barely leaning against the wall to save herself.
Tears pricked her eyes as the pain became unbearable. Her breathing quickened as it persisted for a moment, her father and Daniel on either side of her in an instant.
Daniel wiped her forehead of sweat she didn't even know about and looked at her father. "I think this is serious. You should take her to the hospital."
Johnny looked worried and fearful of what that could mean, but he didn't argue. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Reader, can you walk?"
"I don't know," she whined, head leaned back against the wall as she put her energy into not crying.
Keeping her eyes clothes, she felt her father pick her up and carry her outside. Daniel led the way, opening the doors in their way. She was placed in her father's van and he buckled her in. He held her face and said, "You're gonna be okay. Whatever this is, you'll get through it."
"Just get me outta here," she groaned.
He nodded and hurried to the other side of the car. He drove as fast and without a care, only thinking of his daughter as she screamed in pain with each shooting pain that came and went. In between those moments, she was moaning and groaning in misery.
Despite his speed, things weren't going fast enough for Reader. Things started to feel weird and hurt more as she sat there. She couldn't sit with her legs together, unable to close them for some reason. She couldn't think straight, her whole body sending signals to her brain about how much pain she was in, and it sucked. However, she began even more scared when she felt a rush of hot liquid gush from between her legs and she was too embarrassed to say anything to her father.
Then something inside of her moved and she didn't know what to make of it. She reached between her legs to feel something bulging from her cunt and she burst into tears, scaring her father.
It had been a long time since he'd seen her cry, especially out of fear or pain, so what the fuck was going on?
When they got to the hospital, Johnny rushed in with her in his arms and she was quickly taken away from the emergency room lobby, leaving both of them alone. No one had any idea of what they were getting into, getting rushed, half-informed explanations from Johnny and quick answers from Reader before she was screaming again. It all happened so fast, but to Johnny, it felt like forever. His mind conjured up the worst case scenarios and he didn't know what to do with himself.
Robby showed up not long after, having gotten word from Mr. LaRusso that his half-sister was rushed to the hospital. He immediately went to Johnny. "What happened?"
"I don't know. One minute, she was fine, and the next she's screaming and crying," he explained, shaking his head. The screams and cries of his only daughter are trapped in his head and it's shaken Johnny to his core. "That's the toughest girl I know. She doesn't cry easily, Robby."
Robby rubbed his father's back in an attempt to comfort him. "I know."
They sit there for an hour before someone can tell them anything.
Carmen Diaz comes out, being neighbors and knowing the family well, she wanted to be the one to give them the update on Reader. She thought Reader was such a nice, strong girl. She knew she and Miguel were close, but she didn't know just how close until about forty minutes ago when Reader made a shocking confession to her. Nevertheless, Carmen held Reader's hand as pushed through the pain.
"Johnny, Robby," she said softly as she approached. She offered a smile because while the situation was scary and unpredictable, it hadn't ended horribly. In fact, it was a joyous occasion. "Reader's going to be okay."
"Okay? You sure? She was screaming her head off all the way here," Johnny said, standing from his seat.
"Yes, I'm sure," she said. She took a deep breath. "She gave birth to a healthy little girl."
"Gave birth?" Robby repeated, a shockwave hitting him and his father. How was that possible?
"Like a real baby?" Johnny asked. "Where'd that come from? She wasn't pregnant. I would've known if she was pregnant."
Carmen nodded. "Well, it would appear that she didn't even know she was pregnant. It's called a cryptic or hidden pregnancy and, as the name suggests, it's like a secret. She showed little to no symptoms, got her period regularly, and didn't gain a noticeable amount of weight. It's not typical, but not unheard of."
Johnny and Robby had to sit with that for a minute, letting it sink in. Reader had just given birth to a secret baby that none of them, herself included, knew about. Johnny was still processing everything when Robby asked, "Can we see her?"
"She wants the baby's father to come in first."
"Who the Hell is the baby's father?" Johnny asked, getting protective and defensive. He just spent well over and hour worrying and pacing the hospital lobby only to get sidelined by some shmuck that wasn't there. From where he was standing, this guy better be good enough for his daughter to do something like that.
At that moment, Miguel came running into the lobby with pure panic rushing through his bloodstream and sweat pouring down his face.
"Where is she? Where's Reader?" he asked, looking between everyone there. At that moment, he didn't care about the fact that no one knew they were together. He only cared about her and the emergency that he had to be there for. He's gotten few details over the phone when his mom called, only knowing that he had to be there. "Is she okay? Was there some kind of accident?"
Robby stared at Miguel, fire in his eyes. "No, but I might cause one soon..."
Miguel looked at him weirdly, knowing that Robby was going to be protective of Reader, but now didn't seem like the time. He turned to his mom for answers.
"There wasn't an accident, Miggy, she's okay," she assured him, rubbing his arms to comfort him. "She's being moved to the maternity ward and once they've got her settled in a room over there, you can go see her."
"Maternity ward? Why would she need to be there?" Miguel asked.
He felt Johnny and Robby's eyes burning holes into his whole body as they stared him down. He looked at them questionably, as confused as they had been only minutes ago. Then it dawned on him. "She's pregnant?"
"Was," Johnny grunted, glaring at his star student. "She had the baby already."
"What? How? I mean- how is that possible?"
Carmen rubbed his back as she got a page on her beeper. She checked it before looking at him. "I'll explain it on the way over there. Why don't the three of you follow me?"
By the time they got to Reader's room, Miguel was up to date on the basics what cryptic pregnancies were and how they didn't show themselves. He also got an earful from Johnny about the situation, which sounded a lot like "I can't believe you would do this to me" and "that's my daughter, the one girl in the whole world you, my student, shouldn't have ever gotten with." Robby stayed quiet the whole way there.
Miguel walked right into the room to find an exhausted Reader sitting up on the bed with a baby blanket in her arms. She was just staring down at the little bundle, the smallest of smiles on her lips. When she heard him enter the room, thankfully alone because she wasn't ready to face her father (and she didn't even know Robby was there yet).
"Migs," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
He walked over to her slowly, feeling as though he was in some sort of false reality. How was this possible? How could they not know? Even though he knew the answers now, he was still turning those questions, and more, over in his head. What did this mean for them? He was in college, how was he going to help her raise a baby? Pay for a baby? They didn't even have anything for a baby. They were so unprepared, so there was a part of his mind that thought this was some kind of weird dream he was having.
However, when he was close enough to see the little face of the baby - their baby - peeking out from the blankets, he knew it was real.
Despite her small size, their baby girl had a mop full of dark curls on her head. She had the smallest nose and tiniest lips he'd ever seen. She was fast sleep in Reader's arms, unbothered by anything else around them.
"She looks like you," Reader said, looking up at him with a small smile.
Miguel let out a little laugh. "You think so?"
"Yeah," she told him and giggled. She yawned but tried not to let it show. He put a hand on her shoulder, making her look up at him, and he saw how tired she truly was. She barley had any energy let, using what was left to admire their tiny little surprise. "I almost gave birth to her in my dad's van."
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her head. "Glad you made it here in time." He felt so bad that she had to go through that alone. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."
"Don't be. Seriously, I swear, if you start apologizing for that every day, I'll punch you in the throat," she told him, her brash attitude shining through. He smiled despite her threat. "I'm just happy I'm not dead. Besides, your mom was here and she's great."
"Yeah, she's pretty awesome," he said. He looked back at the baby in Reader's arms and reached out to her, touching her soft hair. "Do you have a name for her?"
Reader shook her head. "I can hardly think right now. I was hoping you'd know something."
"I... I don't know," he said and chuckled. He sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her. "We'll think of something, though."
As they sat in silence, from outside, Johnny and Robby were watching from the door. They peered in but didn't enter, letting the couple have their moment with their new daughter. Johnny still didn't know what to make of it, but as he watched the way Miguel interacted with Reader and their baby, he had a pretty alright feeling about it.
Robby put it into the best words, though; "I guess if it's gonna be anyone, Miguel's good enough."
#lawrence!reader#cryptic pregnancy#pregnancy#miguel diaz x chubby reader#miguel diaz x reader#miguel diaz#johnny lawrence#cobra kai#cobra kai headcanons#cobra kai x reader#cobra kai x chubby reader#cobra kai x plus size reader#chubby reader#plus size reader#gemini sensei
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Jace hockey Au where Cregan is captain and jace and reader are fwb. They inevitably catch feelings. One try to distance from the other, but Jace get hurt when youâre not at the game (hospital hurt) and maybe something about aegon hurting him and being in another team? I NEED a hockey au!!!!!!
Although I'm Canadian and should know a lot about hockey, my knowledge comes from going to my little cousin's games a few years ago and the hockey smut books from booktok. Don't take anything too seriously, there's high chances I made mistakes
Also, this is 3.2k and I don't know how I got there. Enjoy!
Warnings: 18+, smut, p+v, mention of fingering,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
â
Tonightâs game against the Falcons had everyone on the edge of their seats up until the last second. The score was a tie and, with less than three minutes to the third period, the chances of winning before hearing the end buzzer were slim. Very slim. But not impossible because Jacaerys â thanks to a great pass from Cregan â skated his way to scoring the winning goal.
Music blared from the speakers of the frat house when the last of the Wolves bustled through the door, fresh out of their post-game showers and ready to party.Â
Cregan and Jacaerys were at the front of the group, the formerâs arm thrown over Jaceâs shoulders and shaking him as everyone inside cheered and whooped for them.Â
ââHere come the MVP of the night!ââ Cregan shouted over the noise. ââSomeone bring him a beer!ââÂ
The chaos at the door pulled your attention from the story Baela was telling you, your eyes focussed on Jace who was laughing under his teammateâs enthusiastic grip, his dark curls still slightly damp from the shower.
Goddamn, he looked gorgeous.Â
Baela smirked and nudged you. ââLooks like your boy just came in,ââ she pointed out, nodding towards the entrance where Jace was standing, still surrounded by the cheering crowd.
You tore your eyes away from Jacaerys. ââHeâs not âmy boyâ,âïżœïżœ you told her for the third time, rolling your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. ââWeâre just friends.ââÂ
ââWhatever makes you sleep at night,ââ she teased, a knowing glint in her eyes. ââOr not sleep.ââÂ
You mentally groaned. If you had been more careful, she would never have had this awkward run-in with Jace last Wednesday at the dorm and therefore would not know about you fucking the Wolvesâ center player on the side.Â
A beer was brought to him and he took a long and deserved gulp. More of his teammates crowded around him, accompanied by a hoard of puck bunnies. They were easy to recognize as they only hung around hockey players at parties. Most of the time, they didnât know much about hockey, they only wanted to stroke a playerâs ego in hopes of getting in their pants.Â
You grimaced at the blonde hanging at Jacaerysâ arm and left to look for Rhaena, pulling Baela along. Â
Later into the night, you were talking to Rhaena about Baelaâs last Tinder date disaster when you felt a hand on the small of your back. Usually, you would have pushed them off you, but the smirk on Baelaâs face told you exactly who it was. As if the woodsy cologne wasnât enough.
ââThere you are,ââ he said to you, a beer in his other hand, then turned to the twins. ââDid you girls enjoy the game tonight?ââÂ
Attending the Wolves' hockey games on Fridays had become a routine with your friends. It was a great way to unwind from school and encourage college peers. You used to go alone with Rhaena as you were both friends with Jace, but Baela began tagging along when she found out how hot their captain was.Â
ââRhaena had to bail on this one. One of the baristas called in so she had to take an extra shift at the campus coffee house,ââ you explained.Â
Rhaena nodded, annoyance toward her co-worker visible in her face. ââI heard you scored the winning goal. Congratulation!ââ She extended her arm to clink her beer with Jaceâs.Â
He thanked her, his hand slipping underneath your shirt to stroke your soft skin. You leaned into his touch, pleased with the discreet intimate touch.Â
ââSo, how does it feel to be the hero of the night?ââ Baela asked, smirking again.Â
Jace rubbed the back of his neck, his dark curls bouncing slightly. ââI would not call myself a hero,ââ he corrected, a shy smile at the corner of his lips. ââI couldnât have done it without Creganâs pass.ââÂ
Across the kitchen, the girl whoâd attached herself to his arm earlier seemed less than happy he was talking to the three of you. When Jace spotted her, he groaned.Â
ââNot again⊠Iâve been running from Clemence for the past ten minutes. Some girls canât take a hint.ââ He didnât want to leave â you didnât want him to either â, but running from puck bunnies was sometimes easier than dealing with them. ââIâll see you later?ââ he said to you, cocking an eyebrow as he waited for your answer.Â
You nodded, impatient to get your mouth on that dick.Â
â
ââDo that again!ââ you begged, completely forgetting about the other Wolves players who had their rooms nearby.Â
Below you, Jace gripped your hips and gave another upward thrust, making you gasp in delight as his cock hit every single good place inside of you.Â
ââAh, yes!ââ Bracing your hands on his abs, you threw your head back, your perky tits swaying as you moved your hips and bounced on his cock, riding him until your legs were shaking from pain. ââIâm gonna come, Iâm gonna come,ââ you warned, starting to feel yourself approaching the edge.
Getting the message, Jace brought his hand to where you were joined and rubbed your swollen clit with his thumb until a long, drawn out moan left your lips, your orgasm hitting you like a brick wall, your pussy spasming around him.
You collapsed on Jacaerysâ chest, out of breath and eyes rolling into the back of your head as he continued to fuck into you, drawing out your orgasm until he finally reached his own.Â
Despite the ache in your legs, you moved off him and flopped on the bed while Jace ran a hand through his hair. ââThat was your reward for the goal you scored tonight,ââ you said, making Jace laugh as he tossed the condom in the trash.Â
He rearranged his body so his head was on the pillow instead of the mattress, tiredness catching him after his game and the sex. ââIâll try to score goal like that more often.ââÂ
You joined him in his laughter.Â
â
The next Friday, the Wolves were playing out of townâŠin another state. You tried to get a spot on the supporter bus, but all spots were already taken, forcing you to miss the game. Â
You busied yourself for the night, making the last corrections on your paper that was due on Monday. It should have been finished days ago, but you gotâŠdistracted.Â
At around 10pm, your phone buzzed with a text when Jace made it back to the bus. It was a picture of him in the darkness of the bus, a big winning grin on his face.
Jace: I expect a victory kiss when I get backÂ
Victory kiss he got when you saw him on Saturday at the Omega Phi party.Â
â
When you started college, you promised yourself to never be the girl who gets fucked in a bathroom at parties, but here you were with your tits out and Jacaerysâs skilled hand under your dress. And you had absolutely no regrets. It was part of the college experience.Â
You rearranged the bottom of your dress before slipping out of the bathroom and looking for your friends. Music pounded in your ears as you walked through the people, searching for a white-haired girl in a blue skirt.Â
Baela had worn her most flattering skirt, set on getting Creganâs attention tonight. They knew each other, but she was tired of being overshadowed by puck bunnies playing dumb or flashing their tits in his face.Â
ââDid you speak to Cregan yet?ââ you asked once you found her in the kitchen. ââI saw him in the living room with Benjen and Niklaus. No girls in sight. This is your chance if youâââÂ
Baela interrupted you, noticing the wrinkles on your dress and a mark on your neck. ââPlease tell me you were not doing what I think in a random personâs bedroom? Do you know the risks of getting an STI?ââÂ
You poured yourself a drink, avoiding her eyes. ââI was notâŠdoing that. I was also not not doing that,ââ you said, taking a sip to hide your smile behind your red cup.Â
â
After Sunday practice, you met Jace and Cregan at the pancake place just outside campus.Â
ââSorry, Iâm late!ââ you apologized, walking over to their table in a sweatshirt and leggings. No other attire was acceptable on Sundays. ââI couldnât find my dorm key and Baelaâs dad is here for the weekend, so she was already out when I woke up.ââÂ
Jace shook his head. ââItâs fine. I ordered for you already.ââ
You slid into the booth, your stomach growling in appreciation. ââThanks, Iâm starving. Have you guys heard about Cassandra from Zeta Alpha Zeta? According to Rhaena, she was caught leaving a bedroom with Marcus at Omega Phiâs partyâŠif you know what I mean.ââÂ
There were likely kids at this restaurant, so you switched some of the vocabulary to spare their young ears and not receive looks from parents.
ââThe guy on the swim team?ââ Jace asked, raising an eyebrow.
You hummed as you took a sip of his berry smoothie, and dove deeper into campus gossips. Working at the coffee house had its perks: you were hearing all sorts of dramas.Â
Before you, Cregan seemed less interested in the gossip than you and Jace, but he humored you with a nod. ââWe can switch so you can sit next to your girlfriend,ââ he offered, starting to stand up, but Jace was quick to correct him.
ââWeâre not dating,ââ Jace said, a little too fast for your liking. ââWeâre just friends.ââÂ
Cregan snickered, settling back into his seat.Â
â
You hated yourself for staying for a movie after sex, but you were unable to say ânoâ to Jaceâs Puss in Boots pout. Besides, you were friends before you added the benefits part. Watching movies was part of the things you did together.Â
As the movie played, Jace broke the silence. ââI tried to call you this afternoon, and it went to voicemail. I thought you didnât have any classes?ââÂ
ââI didnât. I went to the library,ââ you replied, your eyes still on the screen, trying to keep it casual. ââI was studying with a guy from my English class.ââÂ
ââA guy?ââ Jaceâs eyes narrowed.
ââAemond. Heâs in my English classâââÂ
ââAre you kidding? Aemond?ââ Jace sat up, sheets pooling around his waist. He recognized the name instantly. ââYou need to stay away from this guy. His brother is captain of the Dragons â our rival team. The same guy who bullied me at hockey camp when I was a kid. Heâs probably just asking you out to piss me off.ââ
A laugh escaped your lips, more incredulous than amused. ââWhy would he do such a thing? Aemond is a nice guy.ââ
Jace's frustration boiled over. ââYou don't get it! That whole family is fucking snakes. During my rookie year, Aegon and I were in a corner of the ice and he chucked one of his teammates from behind and blamed me. I was benched for misconduct and not allowed to play for three weeks. And right now youâre giving him material to piss me off!ââÂ
You sighed, still on your defenses. Being part of the same family doesnât make him the same as his brother. ââJust because his brother was nasty to you doesnât mean Aemondâs a bad person.ââÂ
ââHe is! We play against the Dragons this Friday. Aegon is probably scheming somethingâŠââ Jace ran a hand through his tousled brown hair, his voice rising. ââWhat are you doing?ââÂ
ââIâm leaving,ââ you said firmly, pushing off the bed.Â
You moved around the room, searching for your things, fed up with arguing over an old hockey rivalry. What a moodkill to your night! You slipped your shirt on without another word and without bothering to look for your bra. Before leaving, you grabbed your jacket from the back of the desk chair, uncovering Jace's hockey hoodie, a stark reminder of what just set off this argument.
â
Three days went by without hearing from Jace. You saw him on campus yesterday, and he switched directions as soon as he spotted you. It was clear he was avoiding you, and you were doing the same.
Back in your dorm, you watched Baela getting ready, her makeup scattered across her bed. She hummed softly to a Taylor Swift song as she applied her lipstick.Â
ââI was kind of hoping we would have a girls night with Rhaena. Facemasks, sushi and rom-coms, like we used to,ââ you said, sitting on your bed, your voice tinged with disappointment. ââIt's been so long since we last had one. I think the last time was for your birthdayâŠwhich was three months ago.ââ
Baela glanced at you, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. ââI know, I miss our girls nights too. But Iâm seeing Cregan in fifteen minutes.ââ An exhilarated smile spread on her glossed lips. ââOh my god, I canât believe itâs happening!ââ
You were genuinely happy for her, but a small part of you couldnât help but wish Cregan would call and cancel at the last minute. Did that make you a shitty friend?
ââHave you spoken to Jace?ââ
You shook your head, fiddling with the bottom of your sweater. Itâs difficult to talk to someone when youâre actively avoiding each other.Â
Baela sighed, knowing drama would erupt when you agreed to this friends with benefits thing. Sheâs seen enough movies to know how it always ends. She reached for her shoes and purse, ready to leave. ââRhaena is working the closing shift, so if youâre really lonely you can call her. I donât know when Iâll be back.ââÂ
You nodded and wished her a good time for her date.Â
After she was gone, you hesitated for a moment before deciding to reach out to Aemond and asking if he wanted to get coffee.Â
â
On Friday, Baela and Rhaena were at the game, so you found yourself alone watching Netflix in bed. The new rom-com starring Sidney Sweeney had just hit the streaming service and you were impatient to see it. The male protagonist had nothing appealing, but the storyline sounded fun.Â
You were half-way through your bag of Skittles when your phone buzzed with multiple messages. You expected some of them to be from the girls updating you on the game, but you were surprised to see they were from Cregan Stark.Â
Cregan: Hey, itâs Cregan. I donât know where you are, but your boyfriend got hurt at the game. Itâs bad.Â
You almost corrected him about the use of âboyfriendâ, but your heart stopped as you read the next messages.Â
Cregan: Him and Aegon got into an argument before the game outside the arena and it carried on on the ice. During the third period, Aegon checked Jace and he flew right into the boards. He went down hard and got knocked unconscious. The medic team took him in an ambulance.Â
Cregan: Heâs at the hospital. Please come.Â
You stared at the screen, the words blurring as panic set in. Just because you were not on speaking terms at the moment didnât mean you didnât care about him.Â
You scrambled off the bed, grabbing your dorm keys and shoes with trembling hands. Within moments, you were out the door, your heart pounding as you took a cab to the hospital. Please be okay. Please be okay.
The journey there felt like an eternity. You re-read Creganâs messages over again, the twinsâs messages coming in at the same time. You ignored them, too into panic mode to type anything back. You arrived at the hospital, breathless and disoriented, and searched for a tall, bearded hockey player.
You found him in a hallway outside a rows of rooms, his face tense with worry.Â
ââIs he okay? Where is he?ââ you asked, your voice shaky.Â
ââHeâs stable now, but they are keeping him for the night due to his concussion,ââ Cregan replied, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to your panic. ââI have to call his mom. And Coach, to update him on the situation. Can you stay here?ââ
You nodded quickly. ââYes. Of course.ââÂ
You gave him a small smile, a silent promise to watch over Jace during his absence, and took a deep breath before nervously pushing the door open.Â
Inside, the usually bright lights were dimmed due to the concussion. Jace lay on the hospital bed, looking pale and asleep. An IV was hooked to his arm, and the room was filled with the faint beeping of monitors. The door creaked as it closed behind you, causing Jaceâs eyes to flutter open. He assumed it was either Cregan or a nurse checking on him, but it was you.
ââWhereâs Cregan?ââ he murmured, his voice raspy as he stared at the white wall.Â
ââMaking calls,ââ you said softly, walking up to his bedside. Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the sight of him. He was okay. ââYou scared the hell out of me.ââ
ââDid you go out with him? Aemond.ââÂ
His question took you by surprise. ââNo. Not really. We just got coffee togetherâââÂ
Pain crossed his face, but it was not from the concussion. ââDo you know what Aegon said to me before the game? He talked about you. Said you dumped me for Aemond, and now it was his name you would be moaning in bed. I wanted to punch him so bad for speaking about you like that, but I didnât because I knew I would be suspended from the team. It got my head out of the game. All I could think about was Aegon and knocking that stupid smirk off his face, but he got me first.ââÂ
This Aegon guy sounded like the biggest asshole.Â
ââAegon was lying, Jace. Aemond and I got coffee together, but thatâs it. You can ask Rhaena if you donât believe me, she was working that night. I never had any other intentions regarding Aemond. He said this to mess with you.ââÂ
Jace sighed, frustration evident in the furrow of his brow. He felt stupid for believing Aegon. He should have seen through his game instead of letting him get to his head. ââOf course he did⊠I should have known better.ââÂ
You took Jaceâs hand, only now realizing his other was in a brace. ââIâm here with you, arenât I? Not with Aemond.ââ
The corner of his lips curled into a smile, and he squeezed your hand. ââYouâre my girl, okay? I know we said we were just friends, but are we really just friends? I didnât write âmineâ on your upper thigh just because I was drunk. I wrote it while drunk because I didnât have the courage to tell you I wanted you when I was sober.ââÂ
ââJaceâââ
ââDonât say anything. JustâŠkiss me. Please. I canât do a lot of thinking because of my concussion, so letâs keep the talking for later, okay? Right now I just need you to kiss me.ââ You didnât move, giving Jace the impression you didnât want to kiss him. ââYou donât have to if you donât want to. Iâm not gonna force you to kiss meâââ
You cut him off with a kiss. Soft and slow, making up for the days you didnât get to kiss him. Â
Unfortunately, it ended quickly as a sharp pain stabbed at Jaceâs temple and he couldnât hold back his wince. ââI think weâll keep the kissing for later.ââÂ
â
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#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon imagine#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd jacaerys#probably needs a reread but I've been working on this for DAYS#my eyes cant see
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Eddie and flirting weren't exactly good friends.
See, Eddie had always been bad at flirting if not a disaster at it. And it didn't help when he had a bad habit of going dumb around Steve Harringtonâthe boy of his dream, the muse of his soul, the sun of his flowers, and the light of his life.
At this point, it was inevitable that whatever he managed to say to Steve always ended up sounding awkward or worse, ominous.
"Why are you staring?" Steve cocked an eyebrow at him, hazel eyes gleaming in amusement.
They were having a movie night at the Munsonâs new apartment after holding one at Steveâs just last week.
And as usual, Eddieâs attention was on the other boy, unable to stop gazing at that lovely face.
Sometimes, Eddie still felt like he was hallucinating whenever he hung out with Steve. Because, never in his wildest dream, he would see himself being friends with King Steve.
And yet, against all odds, after surviving Hell together, they had become fast friends and stayed like that for months. These days, Eddie could confidently say that he was Steve's best friend besides Robin.
Then again, he was quite sure Steve wouldn't give him The Movesâąïžâlips biting, eyes glancing up through lashes, knees squeezing, hips knocking, hands holdingâif they were just friends.
So. Flirting.
If only Eddie was all suave and smooth, he bet they would be boyfriends by now, and not whatever that had been going on between them these last few months.
Sorry for staring but your eyes are so beautiful; theyâre the most priceless gemstones in the world, sweet candies that I want to possess, a hazel sky that I want to keep drowning in, was all Eddie wanted to say.
But instead, he blurted out. "I wanna lick your eyeballs.â
Horrified, Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth before quickly correcting his grave mistake.
"Waitâ I didn't mean that," he flailed his hands around in panic and tried to explain to a wide-eyed Steve. "I meant, I want to keep your eyes to myselfâ No, that sounds so creepy, oh my godâ"
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Steve straightened from his comfy position on the couch and held Eddie's hands gently. "Calm down, Eds. Just take your time. I promise I won't go anywhere."
Eddie nodded, heart beating fast under the attention of those warm and kind doe-eyes.
Eventually, he got a grip on himself and turned his hands so he could lace them with Steve. Theirs were about the same size but always fitted so well together like gloves.
Eddie looked up to meet Steve's patient gaze. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The success rate was sixty percent, which was enough for him to work with.
"I uhm, like your eyes a lot,â he cleared his throat slightly. âSo can I take you on a date tomorrow?"
In a fleeting second, he feared for a rejection. But then, Steve smiled at him, sweet and pretty, and Eddie was done for.
"My shift lasts until four, so you can pick me up then," Steve gave his hands a light squeeze.
Overwhelmed with joy, Eddie pulled the other boy into his lap to kiss him silly.
Later, they moved into Eddie's bedroom to continue their making out session without worrying about being walked in on by Wayne.
He hunched over Steve with those long legs wrapping around his lower back, and kept peppering Steve's face with kisses because he could never have enough of him.
"Should've," a kiss on the forehead. "Done," a kiss on the eyelid. "This," a kiss on the nose. "Sooner," another kiss on the cheek.
Steve giggled and threaded his fingers into Eddie's hair to pull him down into another tender kiss.
When they parted again, they were both blushing and panting.
Eddie had to refrain himself from grinding against Steve, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his pants on once he succumbed to the siren's call.
Steve didn't share the same sentiments as him, however, when those legs tightened and forced Eddie to scoot in closer, making their clothed erections press into each other.
Even through multiple layers of denim, Eddie still felt the delicious friction that lit him up like wildfire.
"God, you're killing me, sweetheart," Eddie groaned and pecked those pouty lips, red and swollen like sin.
"Haunt me then," Steve whispered and rolled his hips, tempting and alluring. "Make me remember."
Eddie didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He just surrendered himself to the siren's call and got lost in the sweet paradise that was Steve Harrington.
Afterward, as Eddie was stroking Steve's naked back absently, he pressed a kiss on Steve's forehead.
"Think we should take it slow, baby?"
"If that's what you want, Eds," Steve shrugged slightly. Then, in a small voice, he glanced up from where he was pillowing on Eddie's chest. "You'll tell me if I move too fast, 'kay?"
"The last thing I'm gonna complain about is you, baby boy," Eddie snorted and tucked a stray hair behind Steve's ear. "I just wanna hear your opinions about our relationship is all."
This time, it was Steve's turn to snort. "Haven't been on a date yet, and here we're already talking about our relationship."
"Yeah," Eddie chuckled. "We're kinda doing things out of order right now," he gave Steve's forehead another small kiss. "But you were an impatient little thing, sweetheart. Can't imagine what you would've done to me if I hadn't given in earlier."
"Don't pretend like you haven't been desperate to lay your hands on me," Steve rolled his eyes with a quiet huff.
"Keep doing that and you're gonna see how desperate I am, doll face," Eddie said huskily.
"Is that a threat?" Steve raised his eyebrow in challenge, hazel eyes gleaming impishly. "Because it's not working on me, honey."
Eddie's lips stretched into a wide grin and before Steve could taunt him again, he started tickling the other boy.
In the end, Steve had won the tickle war and Eddie had blown him off as a reward.
To no oneâs surprise, they managed to go through another round, and by the time they finished, Steve was too out of it to tease Eddie anymore.
The morning after, he had woken up with Steve in his arms.
Once Steve roused, they had made out a bit too long in the bed, exchanged toes-curling handjobs in the bathroom, and had breakfast together with Wayne before leaving for work.
When the time rolled in, Eddie might be a bit too eager to give Steve everything, because he had gone a little overboard for their date night.
But all in all, Steve had enjoyed the dinner Eddie prepared and given him the most legs-shaking blowjob ever when they were watching TV on the couch.
Later that night, having Steve snore blissfully in his arms, Eddie decided that the date was more than a success.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie is a simp#disaster gay eddie munson#but also#smooth eddie munson#when he finally got his shit together#sionewrites
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Okay so this idea has been rocking around my empty skull for some time now just we know that Eddie can be a pretty mean DM and a shithead and I've been thinking abt romances in D&D and how it would work in Hellfire
And I had this thought that Eddie would like be "no romances!!" to the Corroded Coffin group (before the kids joined) and they're like why? and Eddie just to tease them says that he doesn't want to pretend to fall for their smelly ugly faces
Which just motivates them to try and seduce like every character that Eddie introduces for a fucking month and it leads to the creation of the rule: Every romance/seduction directed roll must be rolled above 15 to succeed AND if Eddie decides that the attempt is particularly bad the roll is with disadvantage
The Corroed Coffin boys are obviously teasingly like ohhh so we get an advantage if it's good?
"Doubt that would happen boys, but sure, if you make me, Eddie fucking Munson, to blush like a fair maiden then you'll get the advantage on the roll"
They try, they really do, but all the CC boys succeed in doing is killing off all of their party in three sessions and Gareth who is a little shit is actually rolling his third character (because the consequences of a failure are fucking brutal) by the time Jeff and [unnamed freak] give up
After that they know better (except Gareth who still sometimes does that just to annoy Eddie and be a little shit) to try and then the kids join Hellfire and Eddie has even less of an desire to flirt with fucking Wheeler, Henderson and Sinclair (they're baby children!!)
But the kids are a little shits too and they see Gareth being a little shit so they copy
It ends badly for them, they gripe about Eddie being unfair because like "all three of us have girlfriends Eddie and you don't so we clearly know more about romance then you do" Dustin not only gets a flick on the head for that but his character might have ended up being put into situationsâą throughout the session that are "totally unfair!"
But fair to say all of Hellfire knows the rules and all of hellfire knows that no matter how well they try and how smooth they are (they really aren't ever smooth) Eddie will not blush or even consider they attempts as "good", the best they got was "tolerable" (Lucas got it and he's still very proud of it, as he deserves okay?), Eddie is impossible to fluster and so it's just is this fun thing they sometimes do when they feel particularly like little shits
And that's it about it
Until Vecna and all the upside down shit and the surprising friendship of Eddie and Steve happens
And suddenly Steve Harrington is not only sitting but playing D&D
Everything is going actually pretty good and Dustin practically vibrates out of his chair at how proud he is of Steve for how well he is doing so far and then
And then Steve tries to flirt with a pretty bard
Dustin deflates, he is ready for the absolute disaster that is going to fall upon Steve, he makes eye contact with Lucas - both of them ready with "it was actually a pretty good line tho!" at the tip of their tongues to defend Steve's decisions, he doesn't know Eddie's special rules after all and it would be funny to see Steve fail, sure, but it's Steve's first game and the kids wanted it to be good for Steve so convincing him to play again would be easier
But now Eddie is going to absolutely rip into him and Steve will never want to play again and-
"Roll with advantage" Dustin gasps, audibly, loudly, the room is silent, except for Steve who's very unaware of the chaos he just created and just rolls the dices, his usual confidence in place
And if someone looked closely - and all of the hellfire is fucking looking - Eddie Munson has indeed a light blush on his face
#i feel like it would have been so funny#steve and eddie just spend the rest of the session flirting through the bard and steve's character#steve also doesn't know why Lucas looks so in awe of him after the session Mike is scowling and Dustin is looking at him#as if he's a weird matemathical equasion#the CC boys give Eddie so much shit tho after the session#'oh so ours ugly mugs don't do it but king steve's jocky ass does?' 'it's a pretty great ass!'#steve doesn't really learn abt the rules until like a month later#also this is my gareth is a little shit agenda and i will be always pushing it#steddie#fic idea#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#dom's au idea of the day#corroded coffin#also hahaha yes this is my official my brain cannot keep my ideas in my head anymore so im going to unleash all of them slowly here
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile VI
<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: It's a long chapter because it's Alastor's Point of View from the beginning until the end of Chapter IV. There is dark theme here, like racism, blood, dark thoughts. But I guess you know about it, it is about Alastor's story ! Please enjoy and tell me your thoughts, if you like having a long chapter about Alastor's thoughts.
â Do you promise to be a good boy bĂ©bĂ©?â
Alastor smiled at his mother and nodded. He would always be good for his mother, even if he didnât like what he was supposed to do. Today, his mother had invited an old friend of hers, someone she used to know before she married his father, and this woman would bring her child with her, hoping that they could play together. His mother was so excited.
He didnât care about them, but if his mother was happy, he'd put on a show.
He went into his bedroom to be sure everything was clean, but mostly to be sure that his secrets were kept safe. He took his journal, where all of his thoughts were written down. He hid it under a pile of clothes, if his father were to fall upon it, it would be a disaster and frankly, he didnât want to get into another beating.
He lifted his head up as he heard noises downstairs. So the parasites have finally come. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled brightly. Easy. He tried different types of smiles before going downstairs quietly. He has learned not to make noises when he was walking, sometimes he could walk behind his fathers without him noticing.Â
And there you were. He tilted his head as he saw you took a photo and stared at it. You didnât even sense him, you werenât paying attention to what was going on around you. Your life must be so easy.
â Do you not know that it is rather rude to touch others' belongings?â
He stopped himself from chuckling as you jumped, surprised. Heh, too easy.
âAnd it is rude to come unannounced behind a lady!âÂ
A lady? His mother was a lady. Always proper, always smiling⊠You? You were⊠a naive, uninteresting girl so far. He did say to his mother that he would play nice⊠But he couldnât help himself.
â I see no lady.â
He wanted to laugh at your expression. How strange. You were giving him your reaction without faking it. In this house, everyone was faking it to make it out alive, even his Mother, faking a smile so his father could be âhappyâ. And when the emotion wasn't faked, it usually meant that problems were on their way. But you, you just expressed your expression out loud, without fearing it could put you in trouble. How strange.Â
He turned his head toward his mother who introduced you both. He was ready to go shake your hand but you came toward him and kissed him on both cheeks. The only person who kissed him like this was his mother. Who did you think you were ? His cheeks flushed with anger but he contained himself, not here, not in front of his mother⊠You wanted to play that game? Alright.
He waited for both of your mothers to go back in the kitchen before stepping closer to you, his face near yours. Hah, how you liked it when someone came too close toward you. He stared at your eyes, your eyes that seemed to say so many things, things he couldnât comprehend, that he couldnât grasp because he⊠he wasn't like you.
â Itâs rude to look at someone face this close!â
He almost coughed, you were the one who kissed him first but now HE was the one being rude? He easily made a lie saying he needed to be close to see. He saw your eyes relax and you almost seemed sorry. Were you watching him with pity? Oh no, he wouldnât accept it. Heâd prefer seeing you angry at him than watching him as if he was some kind of helpless kid who couldnât fight for himself.Â
â But now that I have seen you up close I can clearly say⊠I see no lady.â
He smiled when he saw your angry face.
----
Your parents were really curious about him. He didnât really want to talk with them but he put on his mask and talked about school and other boring stuff. He almost lost his calm when he felt you kicked him in the shin. He stared at you as you were beaming with pride and joy because you were now the centre of attention. How naively cute.
His mother always told him to never hit a girl but⊠If it was an accident ? And you were the one to begin this war. He kicked you on the same spot you had kicked him. His smile widened when he saw you spilled your drink on the table. You were panicking so much and you had every reason to be.. if his father were to be here. He stared at you, drinking. You were a living experiment with your emotions shown so easily. You were still naive⊠But a tiny bit interesting.Â
He stood up from his chair when his mother invited you both to play outside. He walked in front of you but he was looking at your shadows which made it so easy to dodge your so-called kick. He looked at you with a beaming smile when he spotted your face. You seemed so surprised.. and a bit impressed.
â So unladylike.â
He watched you as you stuck your tongue to him, he was sure you were thinking he couldnât see you. How funny. He let you go toward the swing and watched you as you went higher and higher with each swing. He walked toward you as you closed your eyes and arched your back toward the ground. You seemed so light, like you could just fly at any moment. Now he was curious.
âJump.â
You didnât seem keen on jumping, saying things like you could hurt yourself or dirtying your dress. He kept his smile but felt kind of disappointed. Oh well, maybe you werenât interested.Â
Or maybe you were!
He stared at you as you jumped when the swing was in its highest spot. He opened his mouth as he saw you, almost floating in the air, you seemed so free, so alive, so colourful, so⊠out of reach. He wanted to drag you down in hell with him. In his personal hell. In his life. Why were you so happy and he wasâ
â Wow! Did you see that Alastor ! I did it ! Haha ! That was super amazing !â you laughed. He looked at you, you were looking at him like you wanted him to be proud of you. You were beaming, you were⊠cute. You just jumped off a swing because he dared you to do it and you did it. No question asked. Most of the people would have said they didnât want to play with him and left. But you stayed. StrangeâŠ
He tried to suppress his laugh when you dared him to climb the tree. So easy. Once he climbed it he watched you. Now you were the one on the floor while he was near the sky. He looked at you as you watched him, impressed. It made him feel something so he decided to tease you once again.
â I should thank you, now that Iâm here, I donât have to see your face.â
â My face is pretty !â
Yes, it was.
â Pretty ugly.â
â Alastor !â
You played all afternoon, you always had another game to play, another riddle to solve. Your mind was always thinking about something new⊠But then you put your hand on his eyes and said that you had a great time with him. What kind of manipulative game was that? Saying a secret, trusting the other person to hold their tongue and never breathe a word of what you just said? How could you be so naive ? Life wasnât fair. Sharing secrets would make you weak. Never reveal your scars, your secrets or your emotions.Â
He asked for another game, not wanting to see your face. Did you know that he could see everything in your eyes? Was that why you said your secret with a hand in front of his eyes, so he couldnât see if you were in pain or happy?Â
He looked at you as you proposed a game of hide and seek. How cute. He would find you. He was a master of âhuntingâ. He closed his eyes and counted until fifty. He could already hear where you were going as you ran toward the forest. He smiled as he made you think he didnât know where you were, he waited some time so you could be so sure of yourself you wouldnât see him come.
And there you were.
â Found you.â
You ran.
But what shocked him even further was that he couldnât catch you. It was like you were flying through the grass, you werenât watching where you were putting your feet while he was watching the floor, dodging the puddle of mudd, jumping over the branches that would have made him fall. He watched as you ran, he wanted to catch you. He didnât know why, maybe to prove something to himself.Â
It seemed like it was time to say goodbye, he didnât even see the time passing which was surprising, he always knew what time it was, knowing when his father would come back. You came toward him, you seemed sad.
â Well.. GoodbyeâŠâ
Were you really sad ? How cute. But if it was the last time that he saw you, he would rather see you smile.. And , well , he wasnât going to see you again right? He could tell you a secret. He covered your eyes.
â I had fun and⊠you are pretty.âÂ
He went to his mother as he watched you and your family leaving his house. When he went back home, his mother was watching him with an expectant smile. He tilted his hand, smiling at her, she seemed to have had a great afternoon, he was relieved.
â Did you have a great time Alastor?â
He froze for a second. Did he? He stared at his hand, the hand that didnât manage to catch you. Well, you were like a fresh breeze. Needed but short. He would have to live once again without feeling it.
â Yes, I had a great time.â
â----
Alastor was doing his homework in the kitchen while his mother was cooking. Most of the time, his Father was away all week because he worked far from home, so his boss would give him a place to stay to avoid doing long travel. Which meant, when it was the weekend, his Father would do nothing but lay around in the house and if he had a bad week, well.. Letâs just say that his body remembered those days.
There, done!Â
He stood up from his chair, now that his homeworks was done, he could go and listen to his radio. He went to his bedroom and sat on his desk, listening to the radio until he heard noises downstairs. He didnât remember his Mother telling him that they would have guests over⊠And then he heard them. Your footsteps. What was that feeling? His heart was beating louder as your footsteps were getting closer and closer.
He smirked when he heard his door open, did you really think you were being quiet ? He stayed silent waiting to feel you closer to him, and once he saw your shadow, he opened his mouth.
â How rude, entering a boyâs bedroom without permission.â
â I see no boy.â
He smiled as he approached his face towards yours making you blush. He didnât know why, but he was⊠content seeing you in front of him with all of your emotions written across your face.Â
But he didnât like this thought.
The fact that just your presence could make him feel things. You didnât have the rights. That would mean that you had the upper hand on him, playing with him. No, you couldnât know.
â Why are you here?â
And there it was. You looked like a kicked puppy. He didnât like it. He clearly didnât like it. You were cute like this but heâd rather see you smiling even if he didnât like what it made him feel. He suppressed his need to sigh at your face. You stuck your tongue at him, trying to hide the fact that he hurted you. You really were the cutest. Didnât you see that he already saw your heartbroken expression? Seems like he needed to make things right. He touched your shoulder but you didnât move. You were such an obstinate brat. He really was trying to be nice ! He sighed. WellâŠÂ
He covered your eyes, smiling when he saw you flinching and spoke.
â I didnât expectâŠto be content to see you today.â
Your smile was really blinding. He wondered if you were aware of it? How could you smile so easily without fearing that you showed too much emotion? How could you trust him not to use the information you just told him with your smile: You liked being with him.Â
He was almost worried for your future. He looked at your hands as you raised it toward his face, clearly trying to cover his eyes. You really liked to touch him, didnât you? He helped you as he took your hand and placed it in front of his eyes. Now what?
â I wanted to see you too.â you confessed.
âŠ
So thatâs what it was.
He wanted to see you too.
How could you speak so freely? He took your hands off him and stared at you, maybe if he stared long enough in your eyes, he could get an answer. The only answer he got? He didnât flinch when you kissed his cheeks not because he was scared but because didnât feel the need to push you away. How strangeâŠ
He smirked as you told him about making him food. So you asked about him. You didnât forget about him. Interesting..
He tilted his head as you ordered him to dance. He could dance, his Mother had teached him, he couldnât wait but show you. He gave you a big smile and held his hand toward you but you went off script. You took his hand and just started to jump around, holding his hand. You encouraged him to do just like you but he was so confused. Was that dancing ? Maybe it was your way of dancing⊠Well, it was chaotically cute.. But let him show you how itâs done.
He took your hands and twirled you just like his Mother taught him. You seemed impressed once again, he really liked that. He didnât know why but he wanted you to keep on watching him like this. You let go of his hand and walked toward his bed before throwing his pillow in his face. He didnât expect it. He stared at your laughing face. You thought you were funny huh?
He took the pillow and ran toward you, pinning you on the floor and hitting you softly with his pillow. â Rule number one, never drop your guard.â He hitted you with his pillow. â Rule number two, Iâm the strongest here.â he hitted you once again. â Rule number three, give up.â He smiled as he watched you trying to sit up. You were really trying to get away ? He held the pillow above his head and then he saw it.
Your gaze fell on a bruise from his father. Ah, were you going to ask questions? What excuses should he invent this time? He tried to help his mother but failed? No, it was impossible. As he was swimming through his thoughts you took his hand, placed it on your eyes and began to talk. You talked and talked and talked, you really couldnât stop huh?
But he listened.
To every word.
He stood up and helped you when he heard his mother calling you downstairs. He followed you to the sofa and sat down, listening to your mothers talking. Seemed like you werenât as patient as him, he could already see boredom settling on your face. But then you ran off the living room saying stuff about a kitty. He smiled at the ladies and went outstairs, staring at you and the cat. This bloody cat who was always hissing at himâŠ
Maybe if he stopped affraying it, the cat would calm down? HuhâŠ
He came closer and as expected the cat began to hiss but then it hurted you. He stared at your bleeding hand and took it in his. You were trying so hard not to cry. Why? Youâve been showing him every single of your emotions since you have met, why would you hide something that he wanted to see? Why did you not want to share yourself with him? He didnât remember the last time he or his Mother cried. What would you look like? Without even being aware he dug his nails in your cut making you scream. He stared at you, you didnât seem angry at him, but confused. Â
â Donât be ashamed, you can cry. I⊠I think I want you to cry.â Now he was the one being confused. Why would he want to see you cry? Because that means you trusted him enough to show yourself at your weakest. You began to cry, louder than necessary for such a little cut. But he let you. You were crying in front of him without feeling ashamed. You trusted him not to hurt you even more. You were an open book for him, a book he wanted to keep on reading.
But heâd rather see you smile.
He opened his mouth, ready to make a joke but he froze once he heard his voice.
âAlastor.â
He kept you against him. He remembered his Father hitting him because he was crying, he needed to hide your tears from his Father. He didnât deserve to see you in that state. He didnât trust his Father and neither should you.
â Why is this chick crying ? For Godâs sake, what have you done boy?â
â The cat scratched her.â
â This stupid cat⊠Iâll shoot it next time.â
He stared as the man went inside the house. It was going to be a hard night⊠He didnât want to explain everything to you about his Father, you didnât need to know. All you needed to know was how to be safe from this man. He covered your eyes with his hand.
â Never cry in front of this man.â
He didnât let go of you until you nodded. Then he took you to his Mother so she could clean your cut. Better safe than sorry.
Before leaving you told him about the pizza that you made with your Mother. He sneaked with you to the kitchen, he knew that his Father would eat all of the food you made so he wanted to share it with you before it could be stolen from him. You were so eager for his feedback, he almost wanted to say it tasted bad but after what he did to your hand he decided to be honest and made the promise to cook you something next time. You beamed and kissed him on both cheeks before leaving with your Mother.
â--
He was so excited.
His Mother had told him that you would have a sleep over while his Father wasnât home. It was perfect! He also had another game he wanted to play with you. His Mother had bought him a microphone thanks to his good grades at school. He wanted to do a radio broadcast with you. He wanted to share his dream with you just like you shared your emotions with him. He was in his bedroom, re-reading his note to be sure that everything was perfect. He asked his mother to do his hair like adults, so now his hair was slicked back. He looked at himself in the mirror. That would do.Â
â Can I come in yet?â you asked, outside Alastorâs bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.
His grin got even bigger. He opened his bedroom door and stared at your outfit. You were cute, as always. You kissed him on both cheeks, like usual and he tugged you inside his now radio booth!Â
â Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !â He said with glee as he shoved you on a chair. â Welcome New Orleans to Alastorâs podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today Iâm thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !â he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You gave him a big smile and began to introduce yourself even saying he was the best radio host of all New Orleans. He couldnât help giggling, you were playing your part perfectly. Maybe when he would have had his own radio station he would invite you as a very special guest.Â
He kept talking as you read the notes he had just given you, he kind of expected you to fumble but once again you surprised him. You were natural, talking about what was written on his notes but then you went off script and made him laugh. You were amazing.
He kept doing his part as the radio host, explaining about why your sleepover has to be delayed to this day. You didnât ask much more information but was happy he punched the boy who badmouthed his mother. Calling her such a disgusting wordâŠ
You both kept playing, sometimes he would forget about your presence, but when he noticed that his voice was the only thing he could hear he would turn toward you, ordering you to talk. You had a pretty voice, why not use it?
Well, he didnât expect you to raise your voice against him when he said he couldnât understand people liking sweet things. You were so convinced that there was something wrong with him for not liking sweets. Well, shouldnât you feel appreciated ? You were the sweetest thing he ever laid his eyes upon and he kept you by his side, didnât he? He closed his eyes still smiling as you kept blablating with his Motherâs laugh echoing in his bedroom. He liked it. He really liked this moment, if he could, he would like to record this moment so he could play it again and again.
After his Motherâs departure he went toward the letter he wrote with questions for you. You thought the game was over? Think again.
He asked you many questions, well of course the questions werenât from him, but from the audience ! You answered to all of them honestly and there came the last one. He took the letter and read it to you.
â And now, our last question before our guestâs performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?â
He could see your answer in your eyes before you even opened your mouth. He already knew what you were about to say. He already knew. But he was waiting eagerly so you could say those words he desperately needed to hear. Say it, say it, say itâŠ
â He is the best!â
Yes, and so were you.
And you needed to know it.
He tugged you downstairs saying you needed to sing or the broadcast couldnât end. He sat in front of the piano as you were flustered with his microphone in your hands. He smiled at you and then closed his eyes. He wanted you to feel powerful. But first, he needed you to be less insecure about your abilities. So the first lesson would be: singing.
And sing you did. When you stopped being a coward and really sang like the singer that you were, he couldn't help but open his eyes to admire you. Even if some of the notes werenât the best, you were giving it your all. You were giving him all of you at that moment.Â
He couldnât be more proud.
You were the best.
He couldnât stop himself from crushing you against him as he said goodbye to your audience. Everything was perfect, you were here, his mother too and there were smiles on every lips.Â
â--
â We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.â you said with a shy smile, holding a plushie. He was behind you, waiting for his Mother's command. Truthfully, he didnât want you to go to sleep with his Mother right away. He still had other games he would like to play with you. As soon as his Mother accepted, you ran into his bedroom with him following you. You were on his bed with thisâŠ
â What is it ?â
â Well, first of all, itâs a He and he is a deer.â
He listened to your story. So you didnât know how to swim, he would have to train you. You shouldnât have so many weaknesses, it was dangerous. But then you started talking about how your deer plushie was protecting you. What were you saying, were you so tired that thinking was too difficult for you?
â So, a deer saved your life from drowningâŠâ
â Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!â you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. â Do you want to try it?âÂ
Did he want to try to squeeze a plushie? Not really. Not at all.
â How can he protect you?â
You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. â Now, squeeze him !âÂ
Once again , you were looking at him with those eyes he couldnât refuse anything. He suppressed a sigh and squeezed the deer against him and closed his eyes. It has your scent. He could feel himself relax. Yeah⊠It felt nice. If he were to hug you like this, would you also be this soft? He was getting taller than you, have you noticed it? Maybe one day, he would be able to hug you just like this plushie? Would you feel safe in his arms? Or would you try to run away?
â Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?â
Our.
He opened his eyes, staring right in your soul. Ah, you were panicking. Did you think he didnât like that you use â ourâ instead of â hisâ ? You were so cute!Â
â Iâd like that.â he whispered with a soft smile. â Our first guest.â
You both laid on his bed, he still held the plushie against him. He really needed to find him a name, names are important. He listened to you blablating about how he was supposed to take care of the deer. It looked like a fawn for him but whatever.
â Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?â he asked, with no trace of fatigue on his face, he was used to not sleeping, because of nightmares or just because he needed to be aware of what his fatherâs doing in the house. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow.
â Well, because you hold Mister Deer, itâs your job to protect me now.âÂ
It was his job to protect you..? He would do it. He would protect your smile, he would protect your dazzling eyes that seemed to never lose their sparkes.
â ⊠So, do I need to hug you?â
â M-maybe butâŠDo you want to âŠ?â
Does he want to?
He covered your eyes with his hand. Within the next five minutes you were asleep, he took off his hand and stared at your face.
 Did he want to hug you?Â
He looked at the fawn in his arms. You were cuter than your plushie, so that made you huggable. He touched your cheeks with his finger but you didnât move. He nudged you with his feet but you stayed asleep. You must be feeling very safe to sleep like this. He would awake at any noise in the house.Â
Did he want to hug you?Â
He wasnât touching you but he could feel your body warm from here. Were you too hot? Did he need to take off the blanket ? But maybe you liked being warm? You were so problematic, did you know that? He stared at the ceiling, he knew he wasnât going to fall asleep soonâŠÂ
Did he want to hug you?
He put the fawn between his body and yours, whispering in your ear. He hoped you would stay asleep, he didnât want anyone to witness what he was going to say.
Did he want to hug you?
â Yes, if you hug me back.â
â-----
He was blushing as his Mother was asking him if he slept well. She had a teasing glint in her eyes, she must have seen! When he woke up, he had you in his arms. He quietly left the bed, leaving the fawn with you.Â
â Alastor, this was a very cute scene!âÂ
He didnât care if this was cute, it was embarrassing ! He hid his face in his Mother dress. Could she just forget about it?Â
â Donât worry, I wonât tell a soul.â she kissed the top of his head with a beaming smile. He smiled at her, his mother seemed happier since she found your mother back. He liked it. He decided to go back to his room to see if you awakened but what was surprising was that he saw you with his microphone, talking with the fawn. How could the fawn protect you, it looked like you were the one protecting it with the way you were holding it against you. You were so strange.
â I knew you would play with it.â you blinked at him. He looked at your bed hair and couldnât help but smile. You looked silly like this ! â Eamon told me you were using the microphone.â You tilted your head.
â Who ?â
â Our deer. He needs a name, donât you think?â he stroked your plushieâs head while mumbling â even if he looks more like a fawn than a deerâŠâÂ
â He is a deer ! Iâm sure you never saw one !â you huffed as you squeezed Eamon against your chest.Â
â Actually, I did when Father took me hunting.â he tilted his head as he saw your horrified face. Why did you take a step back?
â You killed a deer ?â
â No, I saw one. And most of them have brown fur, not like ours who have a white one.â Why did you seem so confused?
â ButâŠÂ Why is your father taking you with him.. to hunt..?â you asked, confused.
To kill of course.Â
But he couldnât tell you that. His father wanted him to be a man, and man went hunting. His father showed him how to kill while threatening him.
If you donât want to end up like this, shut your trap.
When he first went hunting , he was terrified but now, he would just stare at the dead animal wondering if he will be the target next time. So far, he was alive. How lucky ! But once again, he couldnât tell you that, could he? Would you be worried for him?Â
â Itâs not for little girls, thatâs for sure. You wouldnât bear it.â He teased you.
â Hey! I saw things too, Iâm not a little girl!â
Did you? Were you like him? Did you see things that made you reconsider your morals? Did you see things that made you throw up? Did you see things that made you want to run away and never look back. Did youâ
â My father tried to eat my mother one day.â
âŠ
Now, that was horrifying.
â--
You went downstairs to eat breakfast as he went to the bathroom to wash up. He stared at his body. The bruises were no longer on his body, that was nice. He went to the kitchen and sat next to you. Strange, you were looking at him like you knew something that he didnât. Did his Mother tell you what happened ? No, she wouldnât. So whyâ
â Next time, we should have a sleepover at my house ! I could show you my room !â you smiled excitedly.
He tensed. He would love to go to your place, being able to see your house. How did you decorate your room? But he couldnât leave his Mother alone with his Father. What if he decided to come back drunk and beat his mother while he was enjoying himself, free of worries, at your place. No, he couldnât. He looked at you and there was the kicked puppy stareâŠÂ
â I⊠I donât like leaving my mother alone at home.â
â But we will choose a day where your father is home!â you nudged him, trying to coat him to come with you at your house. â Please Alastor⊠I really want you to come.â you pleaded as you held his forearms with your small hands. â You donât want to..?â
I want to.
He bit his lips, he wanted but he couldnât. Wasnât it the meaning of his life? Wanting without having the power to be able to do what he wanted. Fortunately, his Mother had sensed his discomfort and she offered to come with him for your next sleepover.
He relaxed. Yes, like this, it would be perfect.
The day went on as you both âgossipedâ as his Mother called it. But unfortunately, it was time for you to leave. You asked Eamon to take care of him and then you asked him to take care of Eamon. You were cute but as asked, he would take care of your Fawn.
â-------
He was in the forest with his Father, holding a rifle. It was a familiar feeling to hold the weapon in his little hand. He was used to it now. He was walking, alongside his father who was making so much noise, how could they hunt like this?
â Here, be a useful brat, shoot it.â
He shot the partridges which fell down near him. Should he be afraid of himself ? He couldnât feel anything as he watched the life leaving the animalâs eyes. It was almost boring, he was stronger so he won. It was that easy.
Would you be scared of him?
 He stopped himself. You were the first real friend he has ever made. If you were to see him like this, would you be afraid of him? Would you let him explain? He turned his head toward his father as the man pointed to a deer not too far. He could shoot it. It would be easy.
But then he saw your face. He knew this deer wasnât the one who saved you but this time, for you, he would not kill it. He knew you wouldnât forgive him.
âAlastor, shoot it..!âÂ
He just stared at the beautiful beast not too far from him. He stared into its eyes as the animal saw him before running off. How he envied the animal right nowâŠ
He heard his Father before feeling the punch in his face.
Ah, today it was going to be harder than usual.
â You brat!âÂ
A kick in his stomach.
He wondered if you were sleeping right now? You always fell asleep so easily, he was almost envious. Maybe next time, heâll ask you how you manage to find the sweet relief of falling asleep.
â How useless!âÂ
Another kick in his stomach.
Ah, his Mother was going to be so sad once she saw him. Maybe his Father would let him wash himself up in the water?Â
â You nigga !â
Aand there it was. That disgusting word. He felt his Father grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him toward their home. His Father threw him inside his bedroom, Alastorâs head hitting the wall.Â
Seemed like his mother was out buying groceries. Good, she wouldnât have to see that. He stared at his Father, smiling. The man took off his belt and began to hit him on his back, forcing him to lay on his belly. Alastor stared in front of him and saw Eamon, staring back at him. He didnât know why, but he moved. He stood up as his Father shouted at him to stay in his place. He took the plushie against him, keeping his back toward his Father but he stayed standing.Â
His father hit him on his back with his belt once again but Alastor didnât fall on the ground. He crushed the plushie against him as he closed his eyes.Â
It was going to be over soon. He would see you this weekend, you would play together, you would show him your neighbourhood, you would give him something sweet to eat.
He opened his eyes and saw with sadness that Eamond was dirty with his own blood. He touched his nose, oh yes, his father did punch him in the forest. Aah, he needed to clean it before you came back.
His back felt wet and stinky. Was he sweating that much? Normally he could handle it better? He sniffed.
Ah, blood.
He didnât remember when he passed out but when he woke up, Eamon was still in his arms.
â ça va aller mon bĂ©bĂ©, regarde Maman.âÂ
He looked at his Mother, her smile wobbling. He just closed his eyes and squeezed Eamon, the plushie didnât have your scent anymore, but it has his bloodâs.Â
â---
He didnât know why, but each week his Father would hit him with his belt on his torso or back even when his Mother was begging for him to stop. He had to go to school with bandages all over his body but his face. But he never cried, nor asked his Father to stop. He would just think that soon, you would come and the Hell he was living would come to a pause. Each time, he was thinking.
Next week.
But you never came.Â
Itâs been almost a month. Did something happen to you? Were you sick? Maybe he could ask his Mother to see if you were okay? He was on his bed, clinging to Eamon, his back was hurting so much he almost wanted to bite off his hand from the pain.
But no, he just stared in the void, losing his smile. And then, a thought struck him. Â
Was killing a human any different than an animal?
His eyes widened, but before he could deepen his thoughts on the subject, he heard footsteps downstairs. Yours footsteps. It was you. He was sure of it. He heard the door smashed open, well, werenât you full of energy today?
â So unladylike. I could recognize your footsteps anywhere.â
He frowned when he didnât hear any witty come back from you. Well?Â
â I.. I made your favorite dish..â you whispered, your voice trembling with each word as you tried to speak out loud.Why did you sound like that? â Can⊠Can I see you?â
You wanted to see his pathetic self right now? You really had a bad timing, youâll have to work on it, really.
â No.â
â PleaseâŠâ you begged, it sounded like you were crying, why were you crying?. â I was so worried⊠My father told me what happenedââÂ
â What did he tell you?â His voice was colder than usual. He didnât want you to know. He didnât want anyone to know.
â That⊠That you went hunting with your dad andââ you approached the bed and flinched when you felt his hand covering your eyes. So you were crying, he thought. He could feel your tears wetting the palms of his hands. â Because of your father you- you have been hurt.â you cried, holding his wrist with one of your hands. âAlastor, I was so scared..!â
Me too, I was so scared.
â Keep your eyes closed.â
He couldn't help himself. He hugged you. You were finally here. Hell was over for some time. He wanted to see you so bad. He wanted to see youâŠ
âYes, I wanted to see you.â
â Are you hurting?â
â No. Remember Rules number two: Iâm the strongest here.â
He smiled as he heard you laugh. Yes, everything would turn out nicely. He just had to be more careful. To be more observant. He would be the strongest for you. Youâll never have to worry for him to the point of crying. Nobody would keep your friendship from you. He sighed in relief, you were hereâŠ
â I want to see your face.â
Mhn.. Well, as long as it is just his face. He stepped back and smiled at you. You didnât have to worry.
â Be my guest.â
 His smile widened when he saw your confused face. You must have thought he would have injuries on his face heh?Â
â You said you wanted to see my face, not my injuries.â he smiled cunningly at you while holding Eamon against his chest.Â
â Why do our deer have pinkâŠred spots on him?â you tilted your head, stroking its fur.
Ah, right. His Mother had tried but she couldnât wash all the blood he had lost on the fawn each week. Were you going to be upset ? He didnât protect your fawn even though he told you he would take care of it. Were you going to be disappointed in him?
â Iâm sorry. I bled on him.â
He watched as you sat next to him and gently kissed his cheeks, resting your lips against his skin. Did you know it was the spot his father had punched weeks prior ? Of course, you wouldnât know. He only could feel your lips, the pain in his back wasnât there anymore. He squeezed your hand. He missed you⊠He missed thisâŠ
â I missed you.â you both said.
He smiled softly, as you began to explain all the week he has missed. He felt his heart soared when you explained how you had made a scene so you could come and see him. He had to tease you, because if not, he felt like he would explode with happiness. You have missed him, his presence was something you wanted, he was important for you.
Unfortunately, you had to go.
Well, Hell is forever, right?
He went downstairs, keeping his hand around yours. You seemed so worried. He looked at you after your mother asked about his well being. Why were you so quiet ?Â
â I promise, Iâll see you soon.â
â You promise? How do I know if you are going to be sick, or injured once again?â
Oh thatâs why.
You were so cute. Unfortunately, he couldnât promise to never be injured again, he would be breaking his promise tonight. What kind of promise could he conjure that would make you both ties to each other forever.
â Letâs make a deal.â
He approached his face close to yours and kissed your forehead. You blushed and he couldnât feel bad about it, red suited you.
â You always kiss me good morning, so now, Iâll kiss you goodbye. Now, you owe me a good morning kiss.â he smiled at you teasingly as he took a step back. â Do we have a deal?â
Please, say yes.
â Deal.â
He smiled, now he knew that even though he would suffer because of his father, you would always come back to him, healing him without being aware of it. You were his special.. Something. You were the one painting a true smile on his lips. You were his special person.
Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @boogiemansbitch @sodavizz @tessemerick @slytherin4ever
#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor headcanons#alastor scenarios#alastor scenario#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#fanfiction#alastor fanfiction#fiction#alastor fiction#human alastor#human alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fan fiction
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Little pieces here and there (1)
Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: two, three, four, five
Word Count: 2,6K (i was inspired by god itself)
Warnings: none, lot of context (i promise the next chapter will have way less filling), light flirting
A/N: I HAVE ALREADY THOUGHT ABOUT AT LEAST 5 CHAPTERS MORE, I HOPE SOMEONE LIKES THIS FIRST ONE BECAUSE I'M ON MY KNEES FOR THIS DAMN CLOWN. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in other parts! (Side note: i'm spanish, so if there's some mistakes, i'm trully sorry, i don't have beta readers).
It's not enough to suddenly find herself locked in a box with 3 idiots she met a matter of hours ago, no; To make it worse, as it could not be otherwise, it turns out that she is in a bloody circus, ''kidnapped'' by a band of pirates that she recognizes as soon as she sees the red and white tent over their heads, the distressed faces of the poor people that make up the audience, and the costumes of the band around them.
She sighs, and wonders what the hell she's doing there despite knowing perfectly well what kind of decisions have led her to that damned place. Wanna know what happened? Let's recap, shall we?
(Y/N) (S/N). That name doesn't sound familiar, right? Very few know it but the reputation that accompanies the person who responds to it is very famous throughout the 4 seas. She is not a bounty hunter, nor a marine, neither a pirate or a pirate hunter, like the green-haired hottie with whom she finds herself in such trouble, or a thief, like the ginger who she bet, will escape running without looking back at the slightest opportunity she finds.
No, she's a mercenary. She doesn't work solely for money, otherwise she would go against the most bloodthirsty and ruthless of each sea, and that doesn'tt interest her, because she would put herself on the radar of both the pirates and the marines.
No, she is contacted through different channels, none of them direct, and if the job interests her, amuses her, or even piques her curiosity, she accept it. She goes after all kinds of people, whether they are pirates or marines, gangsters at the top of the terror scale or criminals who, like her, tried to keep a low profile.
However, and as we were saying, despite trying to remain anonymous, she is good at her job, a born strategist with an incredible facility to adapt and blend in with her surroundings to sneak into the most remote places, so her existence inevitably began to be noticed along the seas, rumors about this young mercenary with an angelic face, who only responded to her own morals and of whom few escaped to tell the tale.
And this is how she met that group of weirdos who found each others through the power of the plot's convenience; her last assignment was to steal the map from the Grand Line. There are not many, these kept safe and protected in large fortresses throughout the globe, and among all those that she could have tried to steal, she made the horrible decision of going for the one that was closest to her, encountering those three idiots in the crossfire of the disaster that unfolded in Shells Town.
How did she end up giving up the assignment and at that precise moment there, with them? Simple: Luffy piqued her curiosity. And there are few things stronger than (Y/N)'s curiosity.
"Hey, I know you. I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town, you're the clown guy. Umm, uh⊠Binky, right?" Luffy exclaimed, as confident of himself as usual.
Buggy, she mentally corrected, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at the same time the clown corrected loudly and dramatically listed his many nicknames. Which she was sure, only he called himself.
''Wow, you have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are.â The audience gasp. There's confusion in the boy's face, and an almost psychopatic tic in the clown's one. ''What did you just say?'' Buggy asks lowly. ''Just that everyone knows who you are.'' Luffy repeats.
''Nose!? Are you making fun of my nose!?ââ
Then came the slap, like the one someone usually gives when a friend is trying to steal their food or touch something they definitely shouldn't. Buggy is killing the straw hat boy with his eyes but the gesture is so⊠innocent. She expected threats with knives, to be honest.
And because of the unexpected, she almost let a laugh escape in the form of a cough but she controlled herself fast enough to not grab unnecessary attention to her.
''What's real is...'' Buggy resumes the conversation, getting some distance with Luffy to walk around the rest too. ââIâve been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe-Hand moronâŠââ (Y/N) sees how he approaches her, but she didn't expect him to close the distance between each other so much, his nose almost touching her own, sharp blue eyes fixed on her from a slightly lower perspective. The truth is... that she also doesn't know how to tell if that nose is real or not, but now she really wants to touch it to find out. Dear God, what a realistic texture. Itâs incredible.
Pressing her lips together in a contained expression as she shakes her head, she raises an eyebrow, letting him know that the joke wasn't as funny as he hoped, and he clucks, accepting defeat in such good humor that no one would say, that is a kidnapping and someone would end up dead by the end of the day.
She heard of him. His reward was not one of the highest but neither one of those that go unnoticed in the East Blue. He was also an eccentric, of course people talked about the blue-haired, red-nosed clown who terrified his victims in a macabre way. Those who survived ended up traumatized.
He is, or at least looks, younger than she imagined, and he fit right in with the urban legends of evil clowns kidnapping children and then dismembering them. She wonders, silently, thoughtful eyes scanning his face and body language from a distance, if this is some softie on the inside with high aspirations in life who was unfortunate enough to bump into someone who traumatized him and hence all this show and facade of the cruel and heartless clown -to protect himself as the good cliché he seems- or if, on the contrary, he is, simply and plainly, a yandere who craves attention no matter how he has to obtain it.
If she remembers correctly, there was also a rumor that he ate a devil fruit. Just like Luffy, which it doesn't take long for the clown to discover after Zoro tries to save the situation by showing off his reputation -obviously it doesn't work- and Nami does exactly what (Y/N) predicted. Not her fault, either, she doesn't owe any of them anything at all.
''Okay. Here ends the theatrics.ââ The lights go out and itâs then that everyone can small the disaster in the air. A chill runs down the back of (Y/N), who tends to infiltrate without being seen and avoids, whenever possible, a direct encounter; hand-to-hand combat is not exactly his specialty. And given the circumstances is impossible for her to know if the daggers she usually hides in the side of his combat boots -for emergencies like this one- are still there. ''I know one of you has my map, and I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?â
How long were they unconscious before? Enough to hijack the ship, get to land, and move 4 dead weight bodies to that circus, locking them in a box. By that point she would bet some member of the gang would have thoroughly searched the ship, and them too. Disgusting.
Buggy takes a last, attentive look at both Zoro and Nami, ruling out that one of the two has the map because when the girl tried to flee, Luffy was not shocked thinking that perhaps she would steal it from him. Which leaves the two of them, Luffy and her, alone with him.
''So, please'' the clown gestures to his subordinates with his head. ''make these two guests uncomfortable in the green room. Iâm gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal andâŠââ His eyes jump to her, tilting his head to the side with genuine curiosity. ''this beauty that was incapable of taking her eyes off me.''
Fuck. Was it that obvious?
''Doll, you are the only one who hasn't opened your mouth yet and I don't think it's because youâre a shy little flower.'' He begins, circling around her like an animal hunting its prey, analyzing it, hoping to see a chink of weakness to attack. ''Are you bored?'' He asks almost in a whisper near her ear. ''Is that it? Are you so, so bored that you don't think it's worth enough interacting with the rest of us?'' Breaking away from her when he realizes she doesn't falter, he smiles a huge, threatening smile, looking her up and down in such a way that it almost makes her feel dirty. "Or maybe you're the one who has my map, and you're quiet to try not to attract /my/ attention."
She? The map? Wearing such tight pants and top? Yeah, maybe up her ass, but she's not the one who is going to tell him otherwise because if he, or one of his subordinates, comes to search her, she could take advantage of the opportunity to steal some sort of weapon from them.
In particular from Buggy; (Y/N) saw the knives he keeps in his coat and⊠she wouldn't mind taking a closer look at that interesting nose.
"Busted." She finally admits with a lopsided smile, raising both eyebrows when she sees the surprise on the clown's face. He didn't expect such a cocky response, did he? "I'm not the type of person who likes to attract attention, the spotlight is for others who are more... flashy." She pronounces it honeyedly, repeating the same nickname he used before, pointing at him with a gesture of her chin. "However, I'm not going to tell you where the map is. If you want to find it, come and search for it yourself."
Shrugging her shoulders, she stretches out both arms in a gesture that invites him to come closer. Bold, he thinks, more than pleased with this unexpected turn of events, taking some steps in her direction. She adds once more: "although I would be surprised if you hadn't already done it during the time we have been unconscious"
"Me?" He points at himself, stopping right in front of her. "Take advantage of a defenseless young lady?" He almost sounded offended if it wasn't for the shit eating grin and the eager way he was scanning her body now. "What kind of degenerate do you take me for?"
She scoffs, and Buggy, unsure, seems to consider -for some long seconds- whether or not to do the job himself, (Y/N) being too calm for how helpless she seems. But surely, he knows, she doesn't have any weapons on her; his subordinates were in charge, as she said, of searching all of them as soon as they were brought to the circus.
In the end he gives up, because he would be damned if he dared to refuse to thoroughly touch this mysterious woman who may, just may, have his map hidden somewhere. He strongly doubts it, tho.
Soon enough, he moves again, standing then behind her, and without asking permission, he doesnât need it either, his hands start roaming her shoulders and sides slowly, making sure to feel anything weird between her clothes and the skin underneath. Like the fucking map, folded until it is nothing more than a small piece of paper easy to hide.Â
Because that is the whole point of that scene, right?
"Go on, be my guest." she says sarcastically, trying to stay calm and breathe slowly, because (Y/N) likes to pretend to be made of stone, but not /that much/. The pressure of those gloves against her already tight clothes and the hungry way she knows those -green? blue? difficult to say with those circus lights- eyes are watching her every move make her heart beat a bit faster in something sheâd call /the average amount of nervousness when a known, wanted pirate search for something we wants while threatening to kill you if he doesnât find it/.
Buggy, on the other hand, is so engrossed in his task that his usual cocky smile has disappeared a few seconds ago; he is waiting to feel a change in the girl's body language to be able to guess if she has it or if, on the contrary, this search will be saved in his memory as no more than a small pleasurable pause after all the stress that the goddamn map is putting him through. Because he can't deny it, she's actually a beauty, and in other circumstances he wouldn't mind getting to know her in a funnier way. At all.
Inhaling deeply, wetting his red lips with his tongue, he lets the air out slowly, tilting his head to the side to see her better. He should hurry up and stop making that scene as intimate as it's becoming, audience and all, but he's a thorough man. Or thatâs the excuse -explanation- he will give to whoever dares to ask.
"Where the hell did you hide my map?" He asks melodiously as he finishes searching her torso, his right hand starting to go a little lower, getting dangerously close to her hipbone when (Y/N)'s right hand flies up and catches his wrist between her fingers, stopping him dead in his tracks. She couldn't help it, she acted on autopilot, she is not ready to be the main character of a porn movie with audience included letting him roaming all around as he pleases. "Not between my legs, so keep lowering your hands and I'll cut them off." she threatens, turning her face to look at him standing behind her.
Right back, as if those words were magical or something, the huge, shit eating smile of his returns to the lips of the unstable clown, and without letting go, he makes her spin, facing her with both hands on her waist, strongly keeping her in place, sharp eyes fixed on her, and without realizing it, she stops breathing for a second. "You promise?" He whispers, pleads almost, in an amused, delighted tone of voice after such a threat. She was way interesting than he expected, not as shy or scared as an unarmed girl like her should be. He likes that. A lot.
However, he has -sadly- things to do and he did in fact, already lost time with her. His eyes betraying him the moment they land on the girl's lips, Buggy winks at her with a cocky expression and pulls away suddenly, raising both arms "Another disappointment, how many more can our audience endure? Youâre the only one left, Rubber Boy, don't let me down." He points him, moving closer, while (Y/N) just stays there where he left her, wondering what the fuck just happened and why does her heart run so fast now.
Adrenaline, probably.
"Take her with the others" he ends up saying to a couple of members of his gang, to which she responds by moving on her own in the direction of where they have taken Zoro and Nami before, preventing them from guiding her by force and discovering the knife she stole from Buggy when he got so damn close to her, and which she secretly hid between the waistband of her pants and her shirt.
Risky, she could cut herself with the smallest movement at the least expected moment, but it was way worse to see herself unarmed.
Buggy, infatuated, takes one last look at her and, raising one hand, waves his fingers in the air with a huge smile on his face as he says goodbye to her.
"See you later, love."
#buggy x reader#buggy the clown#buggy one piece#op buggy#one piece live action#buggy x you#buggy the clown fanfiction#one piece#one piece x reader
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I love to think that Aventurine would tie a strand of his hair (i mean its like gold already) around his beloved's ring finger as a silent engagement ring...Literally... Imagine coming to him crying that it ripped and him laughing telling that there are way more from where it came from as he detaches another strand and double ties this time just as a reassuring :') [feel free to use the idea if it inspires you im just so obsessed nowadays]
Ties that Bind Us
Summary: After a delicate strand of Aventurine's hair, which he had tied around your finger as a silent engagement ring, breaks, you approach him feeling emotional.
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Light Angst, Comfort, Established Relationship, Suggestive(nothing explicit), Intimate Moments, Playful Teasing, Emotional Reassurance, Soft Romantic Gestures, Vulnerability.
Warnings: Mild suggestive content, Emotional vulnerability, Brief crying, he calls you âLoveâ (because you are the love of his life đ«¶).
A/N: THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA, INSTEAD OF GETTING AN ARTIFICIAL THING, YOU GIVE YOUR BELOVED SOMETHING GENIUNE AND OF YOUR OWN đ BUT MAN HE'S GONNA GO BALD IF HE KEEPS OFFERING HIS HAIR!!
(Keep those requests coming, I love writing about them! Perhaps send something slight spicy(don't ask me for full smutđ) or gorey too if you dare that is ;))
In the dim glow of your shared home, a soft breeze rustled through the open window as you watched Aventurine, or Kakavasha as you privately called him, sit at his desk, deeply engrossed in his work. His sandy golden-blond hair fell in perfect waves, shimmering under the gentle light. You smiled, fondly remembering how, just days ago, he had tied a single strand of that very hair around your ring finger.
A silent promise. A commitment so personal, it felt more intimate than any grand proposal.
But now, that golden thread had snapped, the ends frayed where the delicate piece had worn out over time. You felt a tug at your heart. It wasnât just a strand of hair, it was the bond you two shared â fragile, tender, and impossibly beautiful.
Approaching him quietly, you stood at his side, fingers fiddling nervously with the broken piece in your hand. âKakavashaâŠâ you whispered softly, breaking his focus. His magenta and cyan eyes flicked up from his work, softening when he saw you.
âWhatâs troubling you, love?â His voice was rich with warmth and affection, though laced with his usual playful charm.
You showed him the broken strand, lips quivering slightly as you murmured, âIt⊠it snapped. Iâm sorry.â The weight of your emotions caught you off guard, and you blinked back tears, feeling silly for crying over something so small.
But Aventurineâs expression didnât change. In fact, a gentle chuckle escaped his lips. His signature smile spread across his face as he reached out to cup your cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. âOh, my dearâŠâ he murmured, his tone both amused and deeply affectionate. âThereâs plenty more where that came from.â
Before you could protest, he reached for a new strand of his hair and, without hesitation, gently wound it around your ring finger again, this time doubling the loop to ensure it would hold longer. He kissed your hand once he finished, a light peck full of promise. âSee? All fixed. Stronger now.â
You couldnât help but laugh softly through your lingering emotions, touched by his gesture and the way he made light of what had seemed like a disaster to you. âThank you.â you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked into his eyes.
He tilted his head, studying you in that way only he couldâreading every nuance of your expression. "Crying over a single strand, hmm?" he teased, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. "Itâs like you're trying to tug at my heartstrings."
Your blush deepened as his thumb stroked along your jawline. "What happens when it breaks again?" you asked, though the question came out in a more breathless tone than youâd intended.
Aventurineâs smile widened, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more his personal self, Kakavasha. âIâll keep tying new ones,â he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand found its way to your waist, pulling you close. âOver and over again. Until thereâs no more hair left to give. And even thenâŠâ His lips found your temple. âIâll find something else to bind us together.â
You shivered, not just from the cool breeze that swept through the room but from the way his words wrapped around your heart, anchoring you to him in a way that felt unbreakable.
As you rested your head against his chest, your heart pounded in sync with his, your body relaxing into his embrace. The warmth between you grew, soft and inviting. His fingers played with your hair now, lazily twirling a few strands, but there was something unspoken in the air.
"KakavashaâŠ" you whispered, your voice trembling with something more than just gratitude.
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through your body. "Cracking already, are we?" His fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes shimmered with mischief, but there was something deeperâsomething more vulnerable, peeking through the cracks of his usual playful facade.
Aventurine cracked, and Kakavasha peeked out.
The depth in his gaze was unmistakable now, and your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the shift between you twoâthe teasing banter giving way to something far more intimate. His lips hovered near yours, barely a whisper away, his warm breath mingling with yours.
âAnd if you break againâŠâ His voice was a low, sultry murmur, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. âIâll be right here, fixing it every time, love.â
His lips brushed yours, gentle at first, as if savoring the moment. But soon, that gentleness gave way to something more passionate, a deeper need igniting between you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer still, until there was no space left between you.
And in that moment, as his kiss deepened, you knew â no matter how many strands might snap, or how many times you might fall apart, Aventurine, Kakavasha, would always be there, ready to tie them back together.
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