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fanfic-obsessed · 3 months ago

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Smitten

I had this idea for a JayTim that I want to share.

Obviously there is no canon here, for the record.

In addition we have a version of Jack and Janet Drake that do love their son, they just have a really bad grasp on age appropriate supervision and activities. They honestly believe that a nine year old can be left alone with only a periodic check from a housekeeper (Also they are aware that Tim leaves the premises almost every night with a camera, they also believe this is a reasonable activity). Like the very embodiment ‘they’re confused, but they got spirit’. Believe me when I say this will be relevant later.

We are also bringing Jason and Tim’s ages just a hair closer together. This starts with Jason being 14 and Tim being 13, at the annual holiday Wanye Gala. This particular time Jack, Janet, and Tim are in attendance.

It starts with some boorish rich asshole, a little too drunk and being stupid about it, making an insulting comment about Janet Drake, heard by Tim. Now Tim loves his mother, and does not appreciate this man who insulted her.

Thirteen year old Tim verbally eviscerates this man, his voice an icy even tone that everyone around recognized from Tim’s mother Janet. Tim’s diatribe of insults and threats leverages this man's secrets, his fears, and insecurities that he didn't even realize he had. Ten minutes in, this man begins to cry. Just the complete, public, destruction of a middle aged rich drunk by a tiny thirteen year old. The Drake family proceeds to exit after Tim winds down, never looking back (it was later in the evening anyway).

Jason, standing off to one side next to Dick, falls immediately and completely in love. Smitten through and through. The first words out of his mouth, after the Drakes leave, is ‘We’re going to get married on that boy’s 18th birthday’. This was heard by just about everyone present. Jason did not even know Tim’s name yet.

By the next morning Jason has used the BatComputer to discover that his future spouse is named Timothy Drake, he lives next door, and that he is 14 months younger than Jason. At breakfast Jason very seriously, though a touch maniacally, tells Bruce that he would be marrying Tim when Tim turned 18, and that before that point they would be telling Tim about their ‘nightlife’ on the grounds that “we should not start our marriage off with secrets”. Jason magnanimously told Bruce that he had until Tim was 17 to get his feelings under control about the reveal (to give a full year before the wedding, in case Tim needed an adjustment period or Jason needed to win him back).

Bruce is already very tired.

Jason finds any occasion to seek out Tim Drake, to get to know his future spouse (the entire time Jason Mantra-having gotten some good advice from Alfred about becoming friends with and maybe dating Tim before anything else-is ‘Don’t start talking about the wedding, don’t start talking about the wedding’). Also every piece of romantic knowledge/flirting knowledge that Jason has comes from the regency era/Victorian era romances he reads.

Tim, for his part, believes that Jason (Tim’s Robin and crush) has figured out that Tim knows Robin’s identity and is trying to subtly figure out how much Tim knows and what he is going to do about it; but for some reason Jason is not asking directly and Tim is enjoying getting closer to the other boy, so he does not admit to what he knows.

This leads to some painfully stilted conversations and weird interactions, but every so often both will forget to be awkward and it becomes clear, whenever they actually act naturally, that they are very well matched.

To the Gotham Elites, this is the best entertainment in years. Between Bruce Wayne’s ‘Brucie’ act and Dick’s feral behavior growing up, Jason’s bookish politeness makes him the ‘best behaved’ Wayne and honestly the most well liked one. Combined that with how sweet he is acting with Tim and that this all started with Tim defending his mother, well this is the love story of the ages, happening right in front of them.

Bruce and the Drakes are already fielding requests for invitations to the wedding. On a slightly more creepy note they are also receiving offers to be a surrogate for the boy’s to ‘continue the bloodline’ when the time comes.

Bruce is honestly wondering if everyone forgot that Jason is adopted. Dick comes to Gotham more often, because he is also finding this immensely entertaining.

A few months in, this leads to Batman, Nightwing, and Robin finding Tim taking pictures on a rooftop in the Bowery. In Tim’s rush to apologize (he is starting to feel a bit guilty about his picture taking pictures of the Bats now that he has an actual relationship-where he believes that they know he knows who they are-instead of a parasocial relationship) it becomes clear that Tim knows their civilian identities and that they did not know that Tim knew their civilian identities.

Tim gives his explanation (a quadruple flip that only a few people in the world can do and connecting the dots from there). Jason immediately blurts out ‘Go on a date with me?’ and is quite proud that he kept the ‘Marry me?’ behind his teeth (The earliest they could get married in New Jersey is 17, and only with parental consent. Jason had 4 years to convince the Drakes to let him marry their son, 5 if they don’t like him). Tim turns bright red and squeaks out a ‘Yes’.

The next gala they enter holding hands. Dick is quickly sought after by the Elite for gossip. Dick confirms that Tim and Jason are now dating, and that Jason insisted on a chaperone for their dates (Jason is still working off the regency/victorian era romantic relationships) so that nothing would ‘besmirch Tim’s honor’. There is an entire crowd of cooing Gothamites around Dick as they discuss how these two got even more adorable, all the while watching Jason and Tim surreptitiously.

At some point Bruce has to have a very surreal conversation with Jack and Janet Drake about when it is appropriate to leave one's children alone and for how long and at what ages. Jack and Janet, upon being convinced that they should not leave their 13 year old alone for weeks or months at a time, rearrange their future plans so that one of them is almost always home (and on the few occasions that they would have to Tim by himself, Tim would stay with the Waynes).

By the way, Jack and Janet love Jason, they can see how much he makes their son happy and are glad to support the relationship.

Now I see this continuing one of two ways.

The first way is that this derails Ethiopia. Jason still fights with Batman, but runs to Janet Drake (who is home) and Tim. He does not discover that Catherine is not his mother until later, but is not missing parental influences and does some digging but does not go to meet Sheila. Tim becomes Oracle’s apprentice.

Alternately, it does not derail Ethiopia. Janet and Jack, on one of the few business trips that required both of them, is woken up by a call from an inconsolable Tim who tells them Jason has been killed by the Joker (both Jack and Janet having been let in on the secret at some point). Janet immediately hires Deathstroke and Talia Al Ghul to kill the Joker (Janet contemplated having them bring the Joker to her, so she could do it and make sure he understood why-he killed her future son in law and made her son cry- but realized that the why would never actually matter to Joker) and paid extra to make it look like natural causes (to lessen the attention on the bastard). Two weeks after Jason Todd’s funeral, the Joker dropped dead of an apparent heart attack, there was not even enough time to get him back in Arkham.

The Gotham Elite treat Tim like a bereaved widow, despite Jason never getting to have the ‘let’s get married when we are old enough’ talk with him. Jack Drake gets to have his own surreal talk with Bruce Wayne about accepting help, and therapy, after Jason’s death. Tim picks up the Robin mantle to feel closer to Jason, and to distract himself from grief.

Jason (Now 17) is brought back and Talia does find him. In this she does have good intentions (She knows that Damian is going to need to be sent to his father eventually, and hopes that helping Jason will endear Talia to Bruce enough that she can still see her son), plus a connection to Janet Drake and the knowledge that Janet had the Joker killed for Jason. So as soon as Jason’s madness ebbs enough to travel she brings him straight to Janet Drake's door. By then enough time has passed that it is three days before Tim’s 17th birthday.

Jante takes one look at Jason and goes ‘Hmm, I was wondering what we were getting Tim for his birthday this year’.

#jaytim #jason todd is a romantic #jason todd #tim drake #Smitten jason Todd #Jason Todd Died #Jason Todd Lived #jack and janet drake #Jack and Janet love Tim #bruce wayne #Bruce Wayne is a good parent #alfred pennyworth #richard grayson #gotham

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probablyreadinsmut · 9 days ago

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Javier Peña X Afab!Reader one shot

Maneater

What if it were the other way around? You were the insatiable menace who fucked her way through Colombia and Javier Peña was the one who pined after you, but you never gave him the time of day, until now.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Onlyyyy. Alcohol consumption, language, Public groping, fingering, Oral (F receiving), PIV Sex (Unprotected, birth control discussed, wrap it before you tap it ppl). Couple of dick taps. Liiiiiitle bit 'o fluff and angst. Spanish nicknames. Overuse of 'Cariño and hermosa'. Bi reader. Time period relevant sexism and homophobia mentioned. Big 'ol praise kink. There was going to be more but I chickened out since it was my first time writing a full on sex scene.

A/N: This is purely self indulgent, Reader is Javiers DEA partner of several years. She's a little emotionally unavailable and knows how much Javi thirsts after her. Writing this bc it's that time of the month where I get the urge to howl at the moon like a bitch in heat so I have to channel it somehow.

Word Count: 4.3k

The vibes for this fic⬇️ I love imagining Javi to 80s music <3

Blog masterlist here

Bogata, Colombia. 1991.

The cigarette smoke hangs like a thick fog under the dim light above your booth. The jukebox is playing a song with a slow and sensual beat.

Everyone else had gone home for the evening, Steve had said Olivia was teething and he didn't want to leave Connie to deal with that alone. The rest of the guys had various excuses themselves but honestly you didn't give a shit, too busy scanning the bar over the rim of your glass for your next conquest. All the while Javier sits opposite, taking long, slow drags of his cigarette, just watching you. Like it was his favourite thing to do.

It was clear he had a thing for you, he wasn't exactly secretive about it. But you never gave him the time of day. Sure he was handsome and you'd bet your bottom dollar that he was a good fuck. However, you'd made it a rule to not shit where you eat.

So like a puppy waiting for scraps, he sits silently as your eyes flit from one man to another. He didn't blame you, the job you were both doing was stressful. Everyone has to have their outlets otherwise you'd go insane. Sometimes he wondered though, if there was more to it. If you needed a different body in your bed every night because it was a distraction from more than just the job. If only he knew.

"Slim pickins' tonight" It came as a mumble into the glass, finishing off the last of your vodka cranberry. "Maybe I'll go pay Helena a visit instead." You'd smirked as you said it. Helena was one of your informants, who much to your initial surprise and then sheer delight, had one day said to you that she'd always wanted to try being with a woman. You were more than happy to oblige.

And so your agreement was born, she gives you information in exchange for orgasm better than any of her clients could ever give her and you were working on getting her visa paperwork expidited.

You hadn't expected that when you came down to Colombia, but fuck if you didn't love the way she sounded when she came apart on your tongue.

Colombia wasn't exactly progressive when it came to same sex relations, so you didn't tell many people about it, for fear it could hurt her somehow. Her job. Her reputation and perhaps yours. Not that the states was much better either.

The thought of you being with anyone else always sparked this possessive jealousy in his chest, Javier knew he had no right. You'd made it clear long ago that it wasn't going to happen, but even so. He was conflicted, the idea of you being with another woman made his cock twitch in his jeans, of course it did, he was a simple man. But he was also a man who wanted you all to himself.

Exhaling a large plume of smoke above his head as he stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray, Javier decides enough is enough. It's now or never, feeling emboldened by the three glasses of Whiskey under his belt tonight.

"Cariño..." He starts as he gets up from his side to come sit beside you, blocking your view of anyone else in the bar, forcing you to just see him. "What do I have to do for you to see what's right in front of you? What do I have to do to get you to see me?" His voice is low and seductive but the way he's looking at you... Big soft brown eyes that portray the vulnerability he's been trying to hide. It's not just about sex for him, this runs deeper.

A small sigh leaves you, seeing the way he's gazing at you, like he wants to give you the whole world when you can't even give him a tiny fraction of space in your hesrt.

You had thought about it, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't. He's probably one of the most handsome men you've ever seen, a jawline that would make most women weep, eyes that under any other circumstances you would picture yourself getting lost in and those jeans. He knew what he was doing wearing jeans as tight as that.

But it's unethical. Against protocol. If Ambassador Noonan found out she'd reassign you for sure. Not him though, he's the guy, he'd just get a slap on the wrist and told to keep it in his pants in future. That's the way this environment worked. That's the way the world worked, women suffer the harsher consequences, while men get let off.

And then there was the part of you that didn't want to lead him on, to drop breadcrumbs for him leading him along a path he was hoping would bring him to a hot out of the oven loaf of bread, only to be greeted with something stale and inedible.

But right now, as his large hand has found its way to your knee under the table, alcohol clouding your judgement, your horny mind is saying 'One night won't hurt, right?'.

"Javi.. You know I can't give you what you want, right?" His fingers, trailing further up the inside of your thigh are distracting and that's what he's aiming for, to seduce you and deep down, he hopes it would change your mind.

"Hermosa, I don't know what you think I'm 'looking for' here. I just think..." He scooches closer, bringing his lips to your ear, fingers gently kneading at the fleshy part of your thigh "... That we both need some stress relief tonight, let me help you, hm?" He finishes his whispered offer by pressing a barely there kiss just below your ear, hips plush lips barely grazing your skin, sending heat flooding south in your body.

"Javi" The way you breathe his name has his dick getting hard already.

"Yes Cariño? C'mon use your words.." He purrs in your ear as his hand moves to cup your pussy over your jeans, applying enough pressure against your clit to make you bite down on your lip, stopping the moan that's threatening to spill from your mouth.

You're not stopping him, infact you're parting your legs for him wider under the table. You do want this. You do want him.

Turing your head to nuzzle your lips against his jaw, nipping lightly at the shaved skin there, your words a breathless plea "Javi please... I-I-I need... Just tonight. That's it..."

He pulls back enough to look into your eyes, seeing them heavily lidded with desire, he's barely touched you and you're falling apart for him already. It's everything he's dreamed of.

"Just tonight" He echoes before he goes for it, slanting his lips over yours, keeping himself restrained for now being in a public place, definitely not looking to be arrested for indecent exposure and thrown into a Colombian jail, at least the blood hadn't completely rushed to his cock just yet.

The kiss is electrifying, his hand leaving the space between your legs to cup your face, deepening the kiss as you melt into him, one hand slipping into his hair at the nape of his neck, the other finding its way to his thigh, sliding up, up, up.

With his body shielding you and the bar being as busy as it is, no one is taking any notice of the two of you, heavy petting getting more risque for being in public, the little gasp against his lips when you find him rock hard and straining against the thick denim, has his head spinning, pulling back to take a breather.

"We should-"

"Get out of here and go back to your place?" You're keen. It has him grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"It's like you read my fucking mind baby"

///

The moment you both step into his apartment, it's game over. A clash of teeth and tongues, slamming you into the wall without tearing his lips away from yours, his hands running all over your curves as your own hands grasp at his broad shoulders, pushing his leather jacket off him until it falls to the floor.

"I need you naked, right this fucking second" The growl in his tone has your pussy clenching around nothing, nodding eagerly as he starts to undress you. First it's your shirt, ripping it open, sending buttons flying, scattering in the entryway, leaving it hanging off you, a useless scrap of material. He'd feel bad but the thought of you having to wear one of his shirts to go home in, is too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

"Look at these... Perfect tits. Fuck me" He groans as he leans down, sucking on the swell of your breast, thumb rubbing over the lace, coaxing your nipple to harden. Your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his face, a hand tangled in his raven hair, holding him in place, a silent plea to keep going. God those fucking moans of yours are beautiful, all rational thought going straight to his dick.

"Javiii" It's a whiney little beg, as you're kicking your shoes off, feeling the dampness between your legs spreading by the second. "I- need-"

"I know... I've got you hermosa" Slowly, achingly so, he sinks to his knees in front of you, dragging his lips downwards, his breath hot against your skin, sucking and nibbling as he goes. Your head is tipped back agaisnt the wall, you don't dare look down at him, not yet. You can feel that fucker grinning against your stomach, knowing he's about to get the prize he covets most in this world.

"Look at me hermosa, I want you to watch everything I'm about to do you you. I want you to see what you've been missing this whole time."

He's quick to rid you of your jeans, Javier likes to tease and prolong the experience with women most of the time, but right now, when the object of all his desires is standing right in front of him, he can't do that. Not now he has you where he wants you, where he's wanted you since the first day you met.

And against your better judgement, you do as he says, looking down at him, his eyes are practically black with desire now, staring up at you through his lashes, looking sinful as fuck as he sits on his knees. All for you. Ready to worship at his altar. His religion? Pussy. His goddess? You.

"Fuuuck. You always wear skimpy little panties like this in the office? Dirty girl." He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your thong, tugging them down your thighs, all the while keeping steady eye contact with you, the smug satisfied smirk on his face has him so sure of himself, so sure that after tonight you'll be coming back for more.

Once they're off, he tucks them into the pocket of his jeans as a memento of this night and he wastes no time, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder, diving in mouth first. Not rushing, but not taking his time either. There's a hint of desperation behind everything he's done so far tonight, a testament to how much he wants this.

You gasp and arch your back off the wall as the flat of his tongue slides between your soaked lips, one hand braced on the wall above your head while the other curls into his hair, gripping and tugging at it, urging him on. The low muffled groan that leaves him vibrates through you, he's getting drunk off the taste of you, the way you're gasping and moaning for him. All for him.

Skillfully working your clit with his tongue, you feel his free hand snaking up the inside of your thigh until he reaches his destination. Wet and slippery with the combination of his saliva and your juices, he teases your entrance with one thick finger, circling it slowly before he pushes inside. "Oh fuck" he hisses against your pussy "So fucking tight, knew you would be" And then without warning, a second finger breeches you, making you cry out his name.

"I know baby... I know, I've got you. You gonna cum for me hermosa, hmm? Gonna cum all over my fingers for me?" it's taunting, it's blinding pleasure, it's ecstasy. He finds that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes, pumping his fingers in a deep slow rhythm as you writhe above him already teetering on the brink when he suctions his lips against your clit and sucks. It's like an out of body experience. Like you're floating above yourself watching this all happen. Trembling as he holds you steady, working you through your orgasm with his fingers, but he's detached his lips from your clit, looking up at you from his knees, just admiring the way you shatter for him. Like a work of art. Jaw slack in a silent scream, breasts heaving beneath your lacy bra.

Right now, as your cum drips down his knuckles, he can't believe his fucking luck honestly.

Once you're lucid and you're no longer trembling, he removes his fingers, you whine at the loss of him. Gently setting your leg down, he rises in front of you and brings the sticky fingers to his lips, sucking them clean, moaning in approval as you watch on with renewed arousal.

"It's really not fair you know."

His lip curls into a mocking grin as he drops the now clean fingers from his lips, placing his hand beside your head against the wall, leaning in close enough for you to catch the heady scent of your arousal on his moustache. "What's not fair princesa? Was that not enough for you?" Smug bastard. Smug, proud bastard.

The way you suck your teeth and narrow your eyes at him, tells him he's winning. Slowly wearing you down just like he wanted. You're charmed by this. Not just because he eats pussy like it was his day job but by him.

"What's not fair... Is that I'm practically naked and you're still fully dressed."

"So I am. Maybe we should do something about that hm?"

Before you can even answer his hands are on your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist, lips finding yours in a heated kiss, tongue pushing past your teeth to entangle with yours, ensuring you taste yourself on him. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk you into the main living space towards his leather couch.

"You taste how fucking sweet you are? I could eat that pretty little pussy all day." Filthy. Absolute filth is coming out of his mouth right now and you feel yourself dripping onto him I return. You'd had a hunch he'd be like this but honestly? It's surpassing every expectation you did have.

You squeel as he tosses you down onto the couch and he admires the way it makes your tits bounce even in the confines of your bra, but he needs to see more, just like you do.

"Take it off. Or I will." Hottest fucking threat you've ever heard.

Sitting up slightly, you remove the remains of your shirt and bring your hands to your back to undo the clasp, all the while he's standing over you, watching you like a hawk.

"I'm not taking this off until you start getting undressed too Javier. It's a two way street." Now it's your turn to smirk, two can play that game, you both know what's about to happen so why the fuck is he not naked right now?

"Hm... Fairs fair I s'pose." With deft fingers, he starts to unbutton his shirt revealing a new patch of golden skin as he goes, toned chest that you've only ever caught slivers of when he decides he's going to get a little slutty with it in the office and doesn't quite button his shirt up all the way that day. You'd always wondered if it was for you.

The subtle lick of your lips and the way your pupils blow when his shirt falls open is something he'll be playing on repeat in his mind for years to come, on nights when it's just him and his hand, abusing his cock as he thinks about you and this moment right now.

Once that's off and on the floor, he's toeing off his shoes and unbuttoning those deliciously tight jeans. God bless this man and his inability wear anything that doesn't show off what he's got. Rightfully so.

Your eyes start at the dark happy trail of hair leading downwards, following his fingers as one button is undone, then the second and it then becomes ubundantly clear, he's not wearing boxers today. Seems you're not the only one who likes to push the boundaries of what you wear to the office. Or don't wear, in his case.

Now he does tease, now he has you wanting more, he's taking his sweet time, tugging the zipper unhurriedly, with a shit eating grin as he sees you clenching your thighs together, no doubt making a mess on his couch under you.

"What's the matter princesa? Impatient for something?" He knows what he's doing. You're not rising to it, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much you just want to yank those goddamn jeans down and jump his bones. Instead you play your ace card, undoing your bra just as slowly, the clasp pinging open, but you hold it against you, not letting it fall away just yet. Like a horny exchange of hostages. A challenge, waiting to see who will give in first.

It was him. Unable to hold himself back anymore, he shoves his jeans down his thighs, freeing his cock.

Your mouth waters at the sight, thick, around 8 inches and slightly curved. A little darker than the rest of him, veins protuding that you could practically feel on your tongue right now. Dark curls trimmed neatly around the base and balls. Beautiful. You wondered where the hell he was hiding that thjng in those jeans of his.

"Fairs fair, I s'pose" You parrot his words from earlier and pull away your bra, tossing it over the back of his couch with abandon. Exposing every inch of yourself to him now.

Before you can even process it, he's on you, pinning you into the couch cushions as he roughly palms your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers making you whimper and gasp under him, his lips attach to your neck, panting heavily against your skin as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between them.

By some miracle he remembers that birth control is a thing, removing his lips from your neck, looming over you, taut as a bow string, ready to snap any second.

"Do I need to go run and grab a condom or-?" Thank god he'd asked because you were so lost in the moment it wouldn't have occurred to you.

"I'm on the pill. We're good." With anyone else, random encounters, you'd been insisting on using condoms, but you trusted Javier and he trusted you.

"Thank fuck for that" the little giggle you let out is fucking adorable but he's not about to delay things further by telling you that, or god forbid, ruin the moment altogether.

Pushing your thighs apart with one hand, he strokes himself with the other, spreading the glossy pre-cum from tip to base.

"Ready for me hermosa?"

With an eager nod of consent, he notches himself at your entrance and slowly started to feed himself inside. Inch by inch. The delicious sting and stretch of him making you both groan in unison.

"Fuuuuuuck she's so tight"

And then all at once you're full of him, legs wrapping around his waist as he gives you a second to adjust, Stroking your cheek almost tenderly as he checks if you're okay before he starts to move.

The leather creaks under you as he saws in and out of your tight heat, almost all the way before he's plunging back in again, setting a deliberate slow, unchanging rhythm as he listens to your moans and sighs as cues of what you like. Steadily picking up his pace as he fucks you into the cushions, holding one of your legs in place around his waist as his other hand shoots out to grip the arm of the couch, tipping his head back as he's getting lost in his own pleasure. Your nails raking down his back is sending him for a loop, theres no way he's going to let himself cum yet, not this soon and not before you cum again.

Slipping his hands under your back for support, he sits up right, pulling you up with him, pulling a gasp from you.

Quickly you catch on, slipping your arms around his neck as you start to bounce on his dick, aided by him guiding your hip movements.

"Good girl, riding my fat cock so well. Look at you, bet you could make yourself cum like this huh?"

The praise alone has you circling the drain, desperate to hold off until you've ridden him a little longer.

"Javi!" You sob, crushing your lips against his as he thrusts up to meet your hips over and over again, swallowing your moans. Then he goes and slips his hand between the both of you, inching back slightly to give himself space to work, circling the pad of his thumb against your aching clit with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge, kissing him desperately as you meet your climax again, your moans drowned out by the sound of blood rushing to your ears.

It's like music to his fucking ears.

Quicker than you can register, he pulls out and flips you over onto your knees, a hand splayed out on the middle of your back gently pushing you down until you arch your ass into the air.

He slaps his dick against your ass cheek a few times before teasing it through your sopping folds, making you whine and wiggle your hips back begging him to sink back into you.

A low chuckle leaves him before he speaks, feeding his girth back into you at the same time. "You thought.. oh fuck... I was done with you? Not even close."

Sliding his hand up your spine until he's at the base of your neck, holding you down as the other hand tightly grips your hip for leverage, not giving you any time to come down from your release before he starts to fuck you again at a punishing pace. Your cheek is pressed against the leather, jaw slack, mouth hanging open dumbly, all you can do is grip at the couch cushions and get out garbled noises of pleasure.

He's ruining you in the best way possible.

"Jaaaaviiiiii!"

He's panting and groaning behind you, watching his cock disappearing into you over and over again, feeling his balls tightening, getting closer to his own release.

"Cum for me hermosa... I.. Oh fuck yes... Know you have another one in you. Cum. For. Me." He punctuates his words with hard, deep thrusts, hitting that spot deep inside you that has you screaming, pussy clenching around him. Seconds later he follows after you, spilling thick ropes of hot cum inside your abused cunt, lowering himself to lean over your back, groaning into your ear. That sound alone has your pussy pulsing, milking him for every last drop.

///

Javier was actually very attentive afterwards, checking you were okay, you felt completely boneless, slumped flat against the couch, sweaty chest sticking to the leather, completely fucked out but you were fine.

He'd gone to the bathroom to grab a warm wash cloth, cleaning you up between your thighs as you just lay there letting him take care of you.

He'd handed you his shirt, pulling back on his jeans before wandering into the kitchen to get you some water, somehow you managed to sit yourself up and pull it on, buttoning it up most of the way. Your hair was an absolute mess and the throbbing between your legs would be a reminder of him for hours to come.

"Here you go Cariño" His voice is soft now, a stark contrast from how he was when he was fucking you stupid.

You take the glass from him as he sits back on the couch, reaching for his cigarette, leaning back as he lights up and takes his first drag. Of course he's a 'cigarette after sex' kind of guy.

Your throat is so dry from how your long mouth had been hanging open for, he can still hear your screams of pleasure ringing in his ears even now.

Dropping your gaze to the glass in your hands, feeling like a piece of shit with what you're about to say to him. You didn't regret giving into him, but you regretted that you were now going to have to break his heart. You couldn't be the person he wanted you to be for him.

"Javi, I-"

He knows. He always knew. And that's what hurts the most. That he let himself think that this would change your mind. Not that he thought he could fuck you into it, but that you'd suddenly realise that he was what you were missing. "Don't. Don't say it. I already know." He sets the cigarette down in the ashtray on the coffee table before he turns to face you, reaching out to cup his hands over yours, with the saddest of smiles on his handsome face.

"I'm sorry Javi."

"Don't be. It's my fault for letting myself dream. You are my fucking dream Cariño. I'd wait as long as it takes for you to want me back, years If I had to."

He'd wait for you. He doesn't need to explain how he feels about you because his words and the way he's looking at you right now says it all and it's just too much.

"I know you would Javier and that's what scares me."

///

Tqglist for my mutuals, tysm if you take time to read this, lmk your thoughts <3

@almostempty @cheekychaos28 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @lovely-vamp-princess @morallyinept

#javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #narcos #narcos netflix #pedro pascal characters

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too-deviant · 9 months ago

Text

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 6.2k

content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.

notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear

PART IV — better yet, she wouldn’t care

“If I have to hear one more handjob joke, I’m gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.”

Lee Fletcher’s dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, “Bare with me, newbie.”

You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on — you’d had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time you’d broken your wrist you’d been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldn’t help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadn’t trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury — when you probably should’ve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game.

It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldn’t have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians — barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didn’t have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been standing right in front of the notice board.” Luke had been saying all week.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to accompany you there, then.” You replied every time.

Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, “Well, it’s looking good. I don’t think you need this anymore.”

He lifted up the knot of bandage he’d removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, “You’re the best.”

“I’m told.” He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, “But you should still take it easy today. It’s your first game, and you’ve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.”

You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, “I’m not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. I’m beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.”

“He’s on your team.”

“I don’t care.” You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. “See you later!”

The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didn’t realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didn’t see the relevance — after you’d broken your wrist, the boy hadn’t even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn to…sit around and watch him train.

Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasn’t letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile.

“I think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.”

You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, “Hey. I’ve only been here twice.”

“In…” He checked his imaginary watch, “One week. That’s gotta be a record.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, “Okay. I’m still learning, leave me alone.”

“We’ll see how much you’ve learnt later today.” He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, clumsy. Let’s get to training.” He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations.

For this game, they’d paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened.

Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls — Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all.

Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadn’t taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off.

“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood.

Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch.

“Okay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.” The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. “You all know the deal. I won’t repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, but…” She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, “You know where to go. We’ve been practising this, and in a couple of hours it’ll be time to bring home yet another win.”

“It’s pretty much all in the cards for us.” Luke cropped himself into the speech, “Cabin Nine have their special machinery but we’ve got wit, power and numbers. We’ll be fine.”

“Speaking of cabin nine.” Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, “I grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didn’t sabotage it.”

She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you.

“Wait.” You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, “This is mine?”

“You’re damn right.” She smirked, “Jake was having a field day making that thing, couldn’t stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,” She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, “They’re lethal. You’ll be unbeatable out there with this thing.”

“Cool.” You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, “Whoops.”

You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought — a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusa’s head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. You’d have to ask Jake about that later.

“We have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we won’t bore you with details.” A young girl who you’d seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. “But if I see you lazing around, I’ll put my dagger through your foot.”

There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him.

“Sunny.” He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, “This is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.”

You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, “Hey, Annabeth.” You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you.

Luckily she nodded, “Hi. You better be good with that spear.”

“I’d like to think I am.” You joked. She didn’t laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing you’d been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, “I think she gets her stoic indifference from you.”

He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, “Yeah. She’s a firecracker.” He looked at you firmly, “Think you’ll be good for this game? It’s not too late to back out.”

You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, “You just want an excuse to use this instead of me. I’m fine, JoJo.”

He raised a single brow, “Fine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, I’m not gonna kiss your wounds better.”

You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, “You wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

He laughed, hand on heart, “Right.”

You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasn’t made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didn’t stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought.

You would’ve practised the whole time had it not started raining — something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could just…make it rain, but you went along with it. You’d only been a demigod for a week after all.

Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night — you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up.

You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, “Stolls. What do you want?”

A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, “Bold to assume we want anything.”

“I mean, we do.” Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. “Ow! Asshole.”

“Cut to it.” You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless.

“Well…” Connor started.

“Luke put us on second offence.” Travis continued.

“But we sorta hate doing second offence.”

“Yeah, it’s way too much work.”

Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, “And we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.”

“So you wanna swap spots?” You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, “Ok, first of all, there’s two of you and one of me. You’ll have to find someone else to swap with too.”

“Already done.” Travis nodded, “Sabine loves second offence.”

“Second of all,” You sent them firm looks, “Luke isn’t going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.”

“Which is why we aren’t telling them.” Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like he’d presented you with the best idea ever conjured, “Luke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.”

“Plus,” Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, “This is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.”

“Yeah, Luke’s had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.” Connor raised a teasing brow, “Why not show him what you’re made of?”

You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word.

The rain hadn’t settled — Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasn’t too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket — Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldn’t keep up with her I’m too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you!

“Welcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!” Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. “The usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!”

There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded — they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.

“Hey.” Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, “You got this, Sunny.”

You nodded, “Damn right I do.”

It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldn’t hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same.

It wasn’t long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, “Shove off, punks.”

Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters.

“Stupid kids. Can’t be trusted on last offence let alone second. It’s not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.”

You didn’t bother responding — whether you were going to agree or come to Luke’s defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look.

“Those Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.” Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder.

The twins didn’t question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone.

Then it was a waiting game.

“Fuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.”

Evie scoffed, shaking her head, “No. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.”

Sabine hummed, “No. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.”

You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer.

“No, see —“ You huffed, “I couldn’t marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.”

“But we all agree on killing Hermes, right?” Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, “Ok. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis and…Hypnos.”

There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay — He’d fall asleep halfway through! — but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, she’d never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees.

Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side.

Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves.

A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action — you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height.

You’d seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucks…fucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too.

But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again.

Briefly, you could hear your peers’ own battles. There weren’t any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lightning, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t land that second hit.

Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear.

The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks.

Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more.

You’d completely forgotten you weren’t alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head.

There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers — the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse — the blue team's flag in hand. They weren’t moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.

Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, “Move!”

And they did. Even when the blue team kids you’d been fighting before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory.

They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations — the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it.

Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, “I don’t…I don’t know what happened, it just —“

But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else.

When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed — how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you.

You almost missed Chiron's next words,

“Zeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.” He shouted your name, but it didn’t feel right in your ears, “Daughter of the Sky God.”

When you couldn’t stand the sight of it — when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they weren’t staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud.

After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped.

The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears — you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldn’t answer that.

They Iris-Messaged your mother — who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. She’d had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most.

“This new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.” Was one of the last things he said, “But you should be fine, since you’re seventeen.”

“Why does me being seventeen mean anything?”

Zeus’ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if you’re only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if you’re planning on living there. There weren’t any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didn’t have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head — he could smite you for it, you didn’t really care anymore.

You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room — you thought they’d have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them — and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door.

It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, “Hi.”

She smiled back, full of pity, “Hey. Just thought I’d come check on you, we haven’t seen you in hours.”

“I didn’t like them staring at me.” You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I get that.” Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, “But, um, it’s dinner right about now. Wanna…come with?”

You didn’t really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, “Sure.”

The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something — maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we can’t be friends anymore because you’re forbidden. You didn’t stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged.

You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadn’t seen him all day, he hadn’t seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt.

So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont.

You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry.

People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt.

“What the hell, man?” He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, “You’ve changed, bro. And not for the better.”

Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction — and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed.

He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into that…thing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow.

He turned to you, “What?”

You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, “I…uh…”

Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, “Go to the campfire.”

“What —?”

“Go to the campfire.” He was backing away, “Entertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I don’t know. Do something, but don’t do it here.”

You weren’t having that. Your gaze hardened, “Hey. You’re not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.”

“I —“ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. “You disappeared.”

“I was in the Big House, being interrogated.” You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, “I would’ve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.”

He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, “I’m your best friend?”

You cracked a tiny smile, “Of course you are, idiot.”

His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. “I don’t hate you.” He said, “I don’t care that Zeus is your dad. It’s just…”

“He forgot about me.”

“What?”

You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what you’d been avoiding since you left the Big House, “Zeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.”

Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” He said in a low murmur. “Thalia was a friend of mine and Annabeth’s. Brought back some rough memories.”

“Oh.” You breathed, ��Oh, gods. I’m so sorry.”

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didn’t like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldn’t help it — you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears.

Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling.

Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You weren’t forbidden enough for them, apparently.

“Sorry for shoving Chris.” He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, “He was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying but…”

“I don’t care.”

His lips shut with a smack, “What?”

You let out a sad chuckle, “Be miserable. I don’t care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Y’know? This isn’t the happiest life.”

Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. You’d let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears.

You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier.

“Anna Banana.” Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, “What are ya’ doing over here?”

The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, “So, you’re Zeus’ kid.”

“Yup.”

“I knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.” She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged — it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Zeus’. You sent her a kind smile.

She returned it, glancing at Luke then, “Don’t call me that.”

He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, “You were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.”

“Maybe they could.” You nodded.

She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, “She likes me.”

He smiled fully, amused, “She does.”

“You like me.”

A little sheepish, “I do.”

“So who cares if daddy dearest doesn’t?” You settled on, tilting your head, “We got each other.”

Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didn’t work idk what’s going on)

#sunny!verse #who gasped #guys tell me this is good #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #@lia’s works #luke castellan x you #thanks to the anon who gave me the idea for her godly parent

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deadsetobsessions · 5 months ago

Text

Cassandra Cain wandered. It has always been so, it will always be so. The moment she clutched the bloody remains of her own freedom in her hands, Cassandra flew and flitted between the cracks of the places she finds.

The only thing that ever made her stay was her dad and their family. The only place she ever settled in for more than a scant number of months was Gotham.

But they’re in a place- a universe- Cassandra could never return to, could not follow, because they had forbidden her to do so. Tim’s grip on her arm, two textures of bloodied skin and torn gloves, told her everything he wanted to say. Her little brother all but shoved her through the crack between planes and universes, and begged her to live with fearful eyes and the grim set of his shoulders.

She has never been good at denying Tim.

The first few weeks were… difficult. She ran- liberated a boat, from men with sabres and cruel hands- and learned to feel the desperate pull of freedom on her hands amongst the waves. She was lost, adrift, silent in her grief. She could be free. She has never been freer. But Cass had never wanted to be free from those she claimed as her own.

Cassandra was built and trained to survive. To walk into a fight and come out the victor, no matter the cost. So she adapts and overcomes and tries not to wallow in her grief.

This new world was different. Brighter, in many ways, than her home dimension. Not that it was hard, considering her home was a wasteland by now, with the moving corpses of what once was her family. The former vigilante knew better than to take it at face value. The brightest places tend to have the darkest shadows. And so, she travels, looking for a purpose. Looking for Hong Kong, because she’s well aware she’ll never find a Gotham again. She braves the sea, travels in between groups of pirates and struggles to understand the slips of sounds that did not make sense to her. It was like before Bruce found her all over again and Cassandra tried a little to learn like how he would have wanted her to. But it is hard, and spoken language was never important to her, never necessary. It was relevant only because her loved ones deemed it important.

Then, she finds a boy on an island, whose words were simple and who was always warm-welcoming-happy-free.

Predictably, Cassandra learns the word “meat” right after learning his name. He was like… the sun. Bright, bold, and unfettered in his will. More stubborn than her brothers and sisters, a feat Cass had not thought possible outside of Gotham, and more than Bruce, only because he could not be swayed by logic. He was Monkey D. Luffy and he wanted to be freer than anyone else.

“Join my crew!”

Cass could not kill. She could not be a pirate.

“Shishishi!” He throws his head back when he laughs, and Cass can tell that he means it. That he thinks her silly for-

“Then my first mate won’t need to kill! We’ll be strong enough to leave people alive! That’s your dream, right?”

Cassandra is breathless. She is still. And- maybe Luffy doesn’t have the training she does, but he understood. She could read it in the lines of his shoulders, the way his rubber limbs don’t snap. She couldn’t believe that she would find anyone that would understand her will to never kill, not after dad, who had wrapped her in shadows that whispered safety and understanding-

“You wanna be free and you want to help without killing! I’m gonna be the Pirate King, and the Pirate King’s crew’s gotta be the free-est! And we can help people if they pay us in meat!”

- but Luffy was a supernova and Cassandra believes.

“Okay.”

“YES!” Luffy roars with happiness, grin wide as the glow in her heart. “I GOT A FIRST MATE!”

——

Cass contorts herself into the barrel- not a difficult feat, since she was already small to begin with- and sighs. She pokes Luffy’s forehead before lightly tugging on his cheek, stretching the skin a bit, in a small scolding.

“Awe, nap time!”

Cass sighs, too familiar with the antics of a chaotic younger brother.

#cassandra cain #dc x one piece #one piece

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osamucide · 1 year ago

Note

Chuuya nsfw alphabet please

nsfw alphabet - chuuya nakahara . . . .ᐟ

NSFW CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 2.2k

cw: gn!reader - no explicit anatomy mentioned, dom!chuuya, experienced!chuuya, nicknames (baby, doll, sweetheart), marking, unprotected sex, graphic descriptions of cum, cum swallowing, mentions of public/semi-public sex, mirror sex, praise, nipple play, finger sucking, teasing, dirty talk, references to overstim and light bondage

reid: your mind anon. this was so embarrassingly easy to write. for all intents and purposes osamu dazai is my pookie my snookums my dearest my darling my one true love but damn i do kind of want his boyfriend too. enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

a is for attentive, actually

chuuya’s a gentleman. it’s whatever you want. the whole nine yards.

you want cuddles? conversation? a massage? a shower? a towel? music? tv? your hair braided or played with? wipes? water? wine? a cigarette? silence? sleep? the first thing he says after he lets you ride out your final orgasm is always “what can i do for you, baby?”

if his busy schedule allows, he prefers most to settle in and be in silence with you, soak in your presence, and just breathe you in until you both fall asleep

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

probably his neck or his hips and waist, since those are where and how you pull him further into you; mark him up in these spots, please <3

he loves those parts of himself also because you can lock your thighs/calves/ankles around him so easily and wonderfully

that being said, chuuya worships your thighs. always grabbing them, squeezing them, clawing them, smacking them, kneading them, gripping them, kissing them, biting them. i am a thigh man chuuya truther

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

pretty and almost translucent spurts

lives and breathes to pump you full <3

please let him cum down your throat

will have you stick your tongue out to make sure you swallowed all of him (watching you do this will get him hard again instantly)

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

wants to fuck you in a meeting so badly

preferably one he’s heading

doesn’t want to bring it up for fear of making you uncomfortable, even if you’re okay with public sex - he doesn’t know how you’d feel about him taking you in front of people you vaguely know

but the thought of sitting you on his cock and making you try to stay quiet and still in a room full of his subordinates? unnnghhhhhsnnn

he cannot let himself think about it or he’s bricked immediately

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think he’s got a good bit of experience! definitely not trying to push my manwhore chuuya agenda

doesn’t really know how many people he’s fucked, doesn’t really think it’s relevant information. what’s important is that he knows what to do with it

he’s the type to have a one night stand from months ago still trying to get his number. that’s how good he fucks

even if it’s casual or even if it’s rough, he has a way of making sex feel so comfortable and passionate

literally husband dick

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

anything that optimizes how deep he can go <3 doggy, mating press, hot seat . . .

9/10 times there is a pillow beneath your hips

specifics aside, he just really loves having your legs over his shoulders

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he is not goofy.

at least, not in a deliberate, ironic way. if you’re laughing in bed, it’s a breathless giggle because everything he does is so charming or dreamy or romantic

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

a true ginger call him fire crotch when he’s already mad and watch smoke literally come out of his ears anyway

he prefers to shave everything except for a little patch that connects to his happy trail <3

he doesn’t care what you do. man is thrilled to traverse the jungle if it means he gets to taste you

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

again, even if it’s just a hookup, he has a certain charm and natural way of making sex feel so special . . . so imagine what he’s like in a committed relationship. i’m foaming at the mouth

does he fuck or does he make love? how about both every single time. he just takes such good care of you, whether that means setting the bar for your wedding night or throwing you around and destroying your insides <3

extremely attentive to your actions and reactions. will come to understand the sounds you make almost like a language of its own and he is fucking fluent

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

looks so alarmingly beautiful while he does it.

long, languid strokes while he runs his other hand through his hair

his abs flex and twitch and sometimes his tongue lolls out a little while his mouth falls open and his head tips back to let the prettiest moans leave him

doesn’t masturbate often with you around; when he does it’s usually so you can sit across from him and watch while you touch yourself, too <3

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

mirror sex

praise

nipple play

finger sucking

biting/marking

put it all together, and . . .

imagine the arc in your back while he fucks you from behind against the bathroom sink. you better not take your eyes off yourself, he tells you. and you can’t even protest to tell him he’s too gorgeous for you to only watch your own reflection because he’s got his middle and index finger pressing down on your tongue while his thumb holds your jaw firmly in place. his other hand reaches around you to alternate between your nipples - he tweaks them, flicks them, rolls them between his fingers and leaves it to you to hold yourself up while he does this, all while he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and groans all gravelly and hot into your ear about how filthy you sound, how good you’re being, how tight you feel, how perfect you are.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

his office hands down

a little bit of an exhibitionist

it goes hand in hand with letters d and q - the looming threat of maybe getting caught balls deep in you drives him crazy

big fan of your/his bedroom too - allows him a pleasure that sex in his office does not, which is your loud and uninhibited moans and mewls <3

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you in any of the expensive clothes he buys you!!!

he of course keeps your taste in mind when he shops for you, but at the end of the day he’s buying you that high-waisted pant/button up shirt/platform shoe combo because he knows your ass is gonna look delectable in it

would also love to have you wear a chain with his initial on it - whether it’s a necklace, bracelet, anklet . . . catching a glimpse of it dangling off you from the right angle has him dragging you off to fuck so he can bite it between his teeth while he’s in your guts <3

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

chuuya will scarcely let you dominate him. he’s not completely opposed to it all of the time, but it’s a little more vulnerable than what he prefers. plus he likes his control, even - no, especially when he’s letting you think you have the reins

understands and values the psychological importance of aftercare - he never doesn’t do it.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

chuuya loves seeing you on your knees for him.

loves making you suck his fingers like you would his cock before he actually lets you on him.

he doesn’t need to fuck your face - all he needs is your dedicated tongue on his tip, a hand on his balls, maybe a finger or two in or around his hole . . . ugh he busts so fast

referring to c - bonus points if you swallow every last drop of his cum <3

talks you through it deliciously

“that’s it, doll, wanna see you work for it.”

“eyes up here, baby, look at me.”

“you’re gonna swallow all this cum, ‘kay?”

he returns the favor eagerly, don’t you worry

an absolute animal when he’s going down on you. his nails in your hips, his hands gripping your thighs, his fingers playing with you when he’s not spreading you apart

eats you like he’s starving and will not stop even after you cum.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s all over the place.

he’s really good at slow and sensual foreplay, but when he’s actually in you or tasting you he can’t hold himself back

whewwww you both gonna be sweating.

tries to save slow, sensitive sex for special occasions . . . but he usually builds up to fast, frantic fucking anyway

passion on 100 regardless. he is going to take you to heaven

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves. loves loves loves loves loves.

loves sitting you on the kitchen counter and cumming in you before he leaves for work

loves sneaking away with you on his breaks to rail you in a supply closet

loves seeing how many times he can make you cum before the meeting he has to be at in twenty minutes

loves bending you over his desk like he doesn’t have a few of his subordinates on their way up to his office to drop off a report

loves bouncing you up and down on his cock in the car ten minutes before your dinner reservation

truly whenever he can. chuuya <3’s quickies

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s down to try anything once, period.

communication is the most important thing to him - experimentation and risks just need to be discussed beforehand

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go three or four rounds at a time, each lasting anywhere from less than 10 to up to 30 minutes; he’s usually pretty impatient to see you falling apart on him <3

it’s a different story if he’s only going down on you. he can do it for hours. you’ll lose track of time, numbers, colors, your own name and birth date etc

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

chuuya definitely owns some high quality rope and a pair of thigh-to-wrist cuffs <3

for you, of course.

he doesn’t get tied up unless you really, really beg him

will occasionally let you tie his wrists while you ride him <3

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

likes to tease you verbally more than he does physically.

he’ll try to hold off on making you finish, he really will! but most of the time he just can’t help giving you what you want.

what he’ll do is make you cum for a third or fourth time with hardly any effort and then throw it in your face - “so needy for me, huh?” “barely takes anything to have you squirtin’ all over me.” “think you can give me a couple more, doll?”

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

can’t help the fact that he whimpers.

so much pretty, breathy whining and cursing - it almost takes the bite out of his domineering sometimes . . .

(lots of “ah- ah! fuck, fuck, fuck fuck f- fuck! y- yes, ugh . . .”)

. . . but he makes up for it with how his voice drops almost an octave when he talks

big talker.

“swear you were made f’me.”

“fuckin’ take it, sweetheart. doin’ so good.”

“ngh, fuck- gonna make you cum all over this dick.”

so much of your name <3

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

sometimes he’ll cum so hard he blacks out for a few seconds. that’s all <3

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

thick.

like a fucking can of coke bitch.

6.5-almost 7 inches hard, curves upward the tiniest bit, pretty and tan with a sensitive red tip

v-line to fucking die for.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

higher than a goddamn kite

he is down to fuck you 24 hours a day 7 days a week 365 days of the year for as long as you’ll let him

just. insatiable. so greedy. takes everything you give him every single time and eats it up. cherishes it like keepsake. burns it into his mind and thinks about it at work the next day and gets himself so horny he’ll have to jerk off in the bathroom and send you a picture with the tagline “look what you do to me”

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it just depends if he’s sleepy or not! he absolutely can stay awake, get up and moving, go back to work, whatever

but as mentioned before it is his favorite thing to do after - if he’s sleepy, you’re sleepy, and his chaotic life graces him with the time and peace, he will fall asleep with you in his arms so fast.

regardless, he’s so clearheaded after you make each other cum <3 he just adores you so much

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #chuuya nakahara smut #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #mdni #nnnsfw.ᐟ #with love—reid

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zeestarfishalien · 1 year ago

Text

Unwanted Farewells

[Day 5 DPxDC Week: Jason Todd // Soulmate AU // Funeral Rites ]

• Anger Management ship (Jasmine Fenton x Jason Todd) No relevant warnings beyond the usual DP stuff

Jazz has always had it the worst. Danny might have been the one to die but Jazz is the one who lost not only her soulmate, but her little brother too. It doesn’t matter that he’s still around, he knows the grief weighs on her sometimes. She overcompensates by being a massive mother hen and general pain in the neck but he tries not to get too upset with her about it.

With Dani with an “i” fresh out of high school and Jazz’s birthday coming up soon, he wants to do something special. He spends a lot of time bribing Ghost Writer in order to research his idea out.

It’s probably the most time and effort he’s put into a project that wasn’t about space.

Proposing the idea to her is the one big thing this all hinges on. He’s not 100% sure she’ll be on board with this but he’d like to try.

And trying is what kicks off the first part of his plan. It’s a little awkward to bring up the fact that he doesn’t have a grave and would like one. It’s almost physically painful to see the grief it brings to Jazz’s eyes. She tries to hide it but Danny has always been able to read her better than he lets on. It’s part of the process though. He needs her to see how this goes and feels. How it’s a celebration of life and honoring those who have passed and not just a somber reminder to the living of what they’ve lost. He needs her to see what it means to him. And what it would mean to her soulmate.

He makes the grave marker of course. They’re not about to buy one when he has the strength and abilities to carve it out himself. He makes sure that it’s vague unless you know him. No names, no identifying markers like age or dates. It’s simple and meaningful for him.

{May he rest here between walks among the stars, our friend and brother beloved}

From there it’s pretty much all fun and games. Literally.

Same brings the games while she has Tucker pack out the food. It’s a combination of some of Grandma Ida’s homemade desserts and various junk foods. Even Tucker brings some cookies his mom helped him figure out how to make.

Jazz is in charge of the drinks while Danny and Dani handled all the decorating. It’s a combination of solidified ectoplasm, his ice, and various flowers they’ve gathered and strung together in a flower chain.

It’s a smashing success and he sees something in Jazz release. Some niggling worry or grief she carried that is no longer there.

Now, he decides, it’s time for part two.

What throws part two for a loop is when Dani with an “i” brings up that she’d like a grave and proper funeral rites as well.

It’s not a setback. Definitely not when he sees how much more relaxed and content Jazz is at Dani with an i’s wake.

It’s only a couple days from her birthday when he brings it up. The funeral practices for soulmates are as varied as they are sacred. He proposes her options via a PowerPoint he put far too many hours into.

By the time he finishes rambling, she’s got this sort of startled look on her face.

He twists his shirt in his hands as he stands awaiting her judgement. The longer she’s silent, the more convinced Danny is that she’ll reject the whole thing and not talk to him for a month.

Okay, maybe a week but still a week is a long time.

Suddenly Jazz is crying and oh ancients he’s really messed up this time. She’s not even mad just straight up upset by his offer.

But then she’s hugging him, telling him she loves him, and thanking him.

It’s not as hard as Danny feared to actually track down the location of a Jason Todd who died before Jazz reached 16 (she never wanted to look him up before, didn’t want to know what she was missing) and the day before her 25th birthday Danny, Dani, and Jazz all pile into her little car to make the drive to Gotham, homemade foods in tow.

Danny and Dani made sure to swipe one of Vlad’s special rich dude credit cards to fund their trip and the stop at multiple flower shops to get enough flowers to make flower chains and crowns for all of them.

It’s closing in on evening, the day of Jazz’s birthday when they finally roll up and upload everything. They didn’t bring any lights, but none of them really need much light to see for eating food and drinking sodas. Jazz brought some jasmine tea and an extra cup to place on Jason’s grave. They make a funky, dark evening of it, but finally Jazz grows more somber and keeps taking long looks at the gravestone so Danny and Dani decide to make themselves scarce.

They’re about halfway across the cemetery when out of the shadows steps the looming menace of Red Hood.

“The fuck are you doing at that grave?”

It’s not his voice or his tone, but the sub vocal ghost speak that makes Danny and Dani freeze up ramrod straight.

That’s a revenant and they’re trespassing on his resting place without permission.

So of course like any sane person, Danny says something stupid. But he just can’t believe out of all the ridiculous coincidences to exist in the world, that Jazz’s soulmate is undead like him seems just too far to believe.

“Jason?”

Almost late despite having the day off work bc I had to go shopping and bc of where I live, shopping is essentially a full day affair. This is shorter than I’d like it but I also kinda enjoy where it ends XD imagine their next moments however you please or feel free to add onto this.

#angermanagement #soulmateau #dpxdc #dcxdp #jazz/jason #dpxdc week 2023

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gliphyartfan · 2 months ago

Note

Your dear double anon has returned

Anyway, I hope you had a good night's sleep and breakfast, because I'm back with more thoughts on LU I had this at 4am when I couldn't sleep (that's exactly why this sounds so far-fetched and mixed, perhaps a little meaningless(?)

I've been thinking a lot about Villain Chain lately, you know, by cloudninetonine. Also in humans are hylian space orc reader but that comes later and thinking a lot about cloudninetonine basically since I reread his/her mess au.

This is all set in mess au, in fact.

So far I have only found three writings that involve them and I have not found any more, which is a shame, because I'm interested in the concept of when a hero is a villain and a villain is a hero, I've always been a fan of role reversals in any context.

And one of the writings I read was about how they became like this when their guide/Reader/player died and they made a huge statue for them as a tomb and they see the guide/Reader/player from the original chain and kidnap them to maintain it and so on (this no has minimal relevance, I just woke up very talkative, although I'm sure I sent you messages yesterday)

Yeah, wrong, but I've kept them in mind because, remember the yandere version of cloudninetonine's chain? Where they're older and guide/reader/player isn't really their guide/reader/player but they think it is? Well, here I came up with an interesting continuation.

guide/reader/player is not really the guide from the original chain either.

Whether it's Dark Link or Villain Chain, they corner the reader and are like 'aha! You have no escape, little guide' and with a blank expression guide simply (when the adrenaline and fear have passed), grabs the blade of the sword that is pointing at their neck and bends it.

Here is the first clue that something is wrong, if it is Dark Link, whether by this action or not, he realizes that there is something wrong with the guide, it is not as he remembers it. If it is Villain Chain, there is bewilderment because the guide who described that shadow that plans to betray them did not resemble the guide they had before them who was not affected by magic, potions or weapons.

is not the guide that Dark Link remembers or that he described to Villain Chain because it turns out that is not the guide either, Reader is a guide but not of that specific chain.

Either because Hylia was confused or she searched for a stronger guide/Reader to stop Dark Link she simply looked for a Reader/Guide who she felt had even a modicum of power over the Hylians and found Guide/Reader from Human are Hylians Space Orc.

But that's where my train of thought ends.

Looking back after getting a proper night's sleep and reading this out loud, I feel like this was so far-fetched but my tired, sleep-deprived brain couldn't figure it out in time.I'm not particularly satisfied with these ideas, but perhaps I'll salvage something for the future.

Or maybe I'm thinking of ideas for a Villain Guide/Reader/player getting to know everyone, seeing as how no one has really done anything like this and some players can be evil in video games.

—double anon (since you already know my problem with Tumblr and the fact that I have to send at least two messages for one to arrive, I wasn't sure if I should give myself a name because my attention span It's null and void and I bounce from fandom to fandom every week. and I disappear the moment I decide to give myself a anon name, but I've been paying attention to Linked Universe for over a month, and I think that's reason enough to know that I won't disappear anytime soon, although I have your Tumblr profile saved in my Google bookmarks anyway so I'll still come visit even if it disappears)

This is a doozy. (Quite the long one, tad overwhelming. 😅) I’m not that familiar with villain chain? Let’s see what I can do with what I can figure out.

One thing I realized is that When Reader sees how the Villain Chain practically worships them, they’re baffled.

To this Reader, adventure games are meant to be just that, games.

The idea that she’d be revered as an actual deity is unsettling, and she’s torn between keeping up the act to protect herself or leveling with them. If she lets on that she isn’t their Guide, the Chain only becomes more obsessed, deciding she needs saving from whatever memories she’s ‘lost.’

And if she realized the Chain has suffered from the loss of THEIR Guide, Reader tries to gently reason with them, perhaps offering compassion?

Big mistake sadly. The moment they show even a hint of softness, the Chain decides Reader has truly “returned” to them. They double down on their devotion, misinterpreting kindness as affection, and it fuels their possessiveness.

To jog ‘memories,’ the Villain Chain might recreate locations or scenes from the past with the old Guide.

They could go to absurd lengths ya know, clearing whole areas, painting fake backdrops, even dressing up in the same worn, ragged clothes they had when they met the Guide. Reader plays along, but she’s constantly trying to figure out an escape plan, as she now knows nothing she says or does will convince them she’s not their Guide.

The Chain takes turns watching Reader, monitoring her behavior for signs that she’s “returning” to them. This means Reader can hardly go anywhere without someone at her side or in the shadows. Even a sigh or a glance could be analyzed endlessly.

Twilight would try to remind Reader of the old days by isolating her in forests or mountainous regions, telling tales of their past escapades.

He thinks being in these familiar places will awaken her ‘true self.’ But when this doesn’t work, he only becomes more frustrated, insisting that Reader must remember and that her real memories are just buried.

Hyrule would repeatedly try to heal Reader, convinced they’re suffering from some curse.

Every time Reader resists or tells him to stop, he assumes it’s the curse talking and only becomes more insistent, going as far as sneaking healing spells while she’s asleep or distracted.

#i’m not familiar enough to come up with better ideas #yandere linked universe #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #lu wind #lu sky #lu time #lu legend #lu warriors #lu wild #lu four #lu hyrule #lu twilight #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x oc #gliphy answers anon #Double anon!

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veras1ne · 1 year ago

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✰࿐ ˊˎ- “BITE ME.”

Hi Doves!! This is my first fic from the Saw franchise!

I’m really excited for the months following as I’ll be posting more frequently and have a lot more lined up!! I hope you all enjoy this fic!

🫧Pairing: Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x Fem!Apprentice!Reader

: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS🦢: I am NOT responsible for the media you read and consume! Your warnings are the following: Kidnapping, Stalking, Taking pictures without consent, Sex, PIV, Blowjobs, Pervert Behavior by Adam and Reader.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Summary 🕊️: Adam believed his life would be over, but it turned out a certain apprentice had a different idea in mind. Now he has to follow a new set of rules

The scraping of metal tinged in your ear as you hauled the heavy contraption down the grimy hallway. You just nearly felt the vibrations through the tile flooring beneath your feet.

Adam’s eyes were droopy and his body frail and tired, yet his mind was widely awake. He couldn’t remember where he was last; he recalled picking at the skin of his shoulder that once was flushed with dried blood and the means for infection, courtesy of Dr. Lawrence Gordon’s gunshot that still rang in his ears weeks later. He hadn’t expected Lawrence to come back for him; in fact, he truly believed that he would die in that room, only surrounded by white tile and shit stains on the walls. His ankle was covered in blood and blistered skin. The friction of the chains caused his skin to burn and ache, leading his voice to scream and call out to anyone who was listening. His last wish was for someone to hear him, but he didn’t ever expect to truly be out of this nightmare. He wasn’t aware someone was coming for him, stalking him and preying on him.

But you did.

You pulled open the door to the room, and it screeched like nails on a chalkboard against the concrete wall. Adam’s blurry mind at the loud noise Other than his own desperate screaming and beckoning, he hadn’t heard any relevant sounds to aid him in his escape in days.

There was no sound to indicate another life. Lawrence had abandoned him; Jigsaw was nowhere to be seen, and all that was left was the burning ache of his wailing and the sound of the security cameras buzzing.But none of those things are registered in Adam’s mind now. His eyes were wide and fearful. The sight of an unknown face—someone who looked like them—was enough to make him startle and panic. His mouth was gagged, and his neck was embellished with a metal collar. On the inside of the collar were several rows of nails, and the tips of the needles were each plucked and perfectly arranged to suffocate him and create panic. Connected to his collar was a chain padlocked into the wall.

He was just barely being suffocated by the claustrophobic heat of the room and the relentless tugging of the chains that bound him to his collar. The air that entered his nostrils was thick and stale and tasted sourly of iron.

Sweat poured from his forehead onto his already sweaty hairline. It pooled at the small of his back. He began to quiver once he realized that whoever came into this room had no intention of leaving it anytime soon. “Hello Adam. I want to play a game.” Your voice echoed throughout the chamber-like walls. “You’d consider yourself a photographer, wouldn’t you, Adam? I sure would.” You stepped further towards him and shoved a box of photos in his lap, the box containing pictures of yourself in excessively vulnerable situations, like finding yourself in the hallway of different hook-up apartments or in your own home, some even depicting yourself getting undressed in the shower. “You’ve spent your life following others, but you’ve chosen the wrong person to follow, Adam.” You took another step towards him, reaching your hand out and pressing it against his face, caressing the side of his cheek. “You probably thought you could live your life without consequence for your actions, but you’re wrong. Just like how one wrong move could be the end of your life, so follow my rules and play nice, sweetheart." You smiled a thin smile filled with malice and lust.

A grin so fake that it was more than believable, if a bit unsettling. You grabbed his collar and yanked him upwards, the metal biting deep into his flesh, untying his makeshift gag and throwing the fabric onto the ground. His swollen cheeks and puffy eyes only made your lust for him grow so much stronger. “What do you want from me?” His voice was hoarse but whiny and strong with misery. “What’s wrong? You wanted to see me so badly before, and now that you can, you don’t like it? You should be grateful. John wanted to leave you there to starve; Mandy wanted to put you out of your misery, but not me. I wanted to meet you face-to-face." He let out a small breath as your hands slipped over his bare shoulders, down his chest, and back to his arms, squeezing them as you reached them, his muscles flexing under your hands. “I guess you’ll finally get to see everything in live motion, and not just from one of your silly pictures.” You moved your lips closer to his ear. His breathing hitched as he looked at you with glossed-over eyes, and his pupils dilated to slits as he stared at you. “Tell me what else you think is wrong, Adam. Tell me how you feel about being here. Tell me how you really are." As you whispered in his ear, you squeezed your fingers harder onto his upper arm.

You watched him squirm and whimper. “Oh fuck, man.” His hands found their way to your hips. “What did you do with those photos of me, Adam? Did you think about me at night?” You gave him a sly smile as you toyed with the lock on his collar. “Do you want me to take off my shirt? Do you want me to lay it across the chair so you can touch me? What kind of fantasy do you have of me, baby?” You leaned forward so that your chest pressed firmly into his.

Your lower leg rested against his crotch, pressing down and giving him his strongly desired relief. “Do you want me, Adam?” Your hand brushed his hair back; it was greasy and had dried blood and sweat in between strands, but at that point in time, nothing else mattered; only he did. "Shit, you’re fucking crazy, dude.” Your face snapped at his response, changing from pleasure to anger. “I would watch your attitude if you want to get out of here alive. Remember my rules, Adam; play nicely.” You tugged on the chain binding him, drawing a few beads of blood out of his neck. “Bite me.” He spat at you, his words stinging on your lips as you captured his in an angry, heated kiss.

He sucked your tongue into his mouth while you moaned into it; your lips parted slightly as you explored your tongue with his, and your hands were wandering his body. They slid up his chest to his shoulders, then his neck, then his jawline, until they tangled in his dirty locks. He pulled you closer until you were completely wrapped around him, grinding your hips into his groin as minutes felt like hours with your lips interlocked. “Fuck, I fucking knew you were perfect, so pretty.” He cried out against your lips, his hands gripping your waist tightly and pulling your hips down against him.

You both moaned when you felt his erection rubbing against your clitoral area through your trousers and underwear, his cock hardening even more against you. Your hips slid against his jeans as you sat on the floor, tucking your knees under your thighs. Cold hands slid across his jeans, unbuckling his belt and sliding off his blue trousers, hooking his underwear, and pulling them down.

You opened your mouth slowly, sliding your bottom lip along the tip of his erect penis. Your tongue danced delicately, sucking him off gently and softly. His head hung low as he groaned against your mouth.

His arms encircled your waist, keeping you pressed into his warm, hard body. “Are you enjoying yourself, Adam?” you asked quietly, licking away the last remnants of cum. He nodded quickly, turning his face away so he didn’t have to look you in the eyes. He couldn’t hold your stare and instead opted for staring at the ceiling, his arms still tight around your waist. He shivered as you continued sucking on his cock. “Yes, yes. That feels so good.” He gasped as your lips closed around the head, taking his full shaft into your desperate throat. He buckled his knees, his hips rocking into you roughly as you swallowed him down, moaning lightly as your nails dug deeply into his skin, nearly breaking it and almost bruising them as he tried desperately not to cum too early.

He clenched his fists, digging his own nails harshly into the skin of your shoulders as he guided your head up and down his hard cock. You licked the length of the base of it until it was throbbing painfully.

You took him to the back of your throat, holding him in place as you drank him down slowly. “Oh shit…” He breathed out as his body trembled, his eyes wild, and he panicked with desire, feeling his own orgasm rising in his abdomen. You pulled his cock out of his mouth, much to his displeasure and anger.

His whimpers made your hole clench around the emptyness that you so desired to be filled. “If I unchained you right now, would you scream and run? You remember the rules, right? Let’s see if you’ll still play by them once you’ve gotten your freedom. Get on your knees.”

His face was distorted in confusion, not quite understanding what for. "Look, man, I’m not into that sort of thing." He shook his head and looked at you in fear, sitting down on the cold floor anyway. “I’m taking your collar off, not pegging you with a knife.” The keys from your pocket jingled as you unlocked them, the heavy metal contraption falling to the floor. He removed his white shirt that was covered in dried blood, his pale body glistening with sweat and grime that covered every inch of his smooth chest. You placed the collar on the table next to you as you pulled him to the chair nearby. “Are you sure that this is what you want, Adam?” Your expression showed genuine concern.

Even though it was true you had locked him up in this room and kept him as your personal hostage only to give him a sloppy head, you still had a heart, and you were determined to give it to him in its entirety. “Put that pretty pussy right on my cock, please.” You smiled at him as you pushed your black pants and panties down to the floor, straddling his muscular thighs and kissing his neck.

His body twitched as you slid down his shaft, bottoming out as your pussy stretched around his dick, gushing around his flesh. “Shit, Adam.” You sighed, loving the heat of his body in the cold room, the wet warmth against your insides, and the way your juices trickled down the shaft of his dick and dripped in soft puddles onto the floor. You began moving up and down his cock with slow, steady strokes, adjusting your puckering hole to his shaft. Your legs started shaking as he lifted himself up, thrusting into you deep, your nipples pebbling, and your core tightening as your body began to move in rhythm to his movements.

His face flushed red, his eyes became glassy, his head thrown back, and his mouth opened in pleasure. His hands gripped your waist tighter, taking full control of your body movements as they related to your wet heat. His hands ran up and down your hips, his fingers sliding up and down your waist, causing you to tighten and pull harder on his shaft. He groaned loudly, his cock hitting all of your sweet spots as he pumped into you.

You were panting, your eyes closing as you focused on the way your walls tightened around his cock. “Did you ever touch yourself with those pictures of me, Adam? Did you imagine what it would be like to fuck me?" He bit his lower lip as he began to growl against your shoulder, releasing his grip on your waist as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “F-fuck, every night. I wanted to know what your tight pussy would feel like around my cock.” He ground against your pussyrelentlessly until your whole body started shaking. “I knew you were a disgusting little pervert." You were so close, and his confession only drew you closer.

You could feel your juices dripping into your pussy as he continued to pump into you, pushing you further and further toward your release. You arched your back, reaching your hands behind you to grab onto something to help hold on to as you came. You screamed his name as you came hard, your pussy clenching around his thick cock, still chasing his orgasm as he pound into you, overstimulating your sore nerves.

His body tensed, his muscles trembling violently as he spilled his seed inside you, filling you to the brim. His arms wrapped themselves around your back as he held you close. “That felt so good. So fucking amazing.” His voice shook as he spoke against your neck. You turned so that your faces were level, and his arms were still wrapped around you. You kissed him tenderly, your lips lingering on his, before you pulled away. “Congratulations, Adam. You’ve won your game. You have been reborn.” He smiled and wet his lips. “So was that, like, a reverse rebirth kind of thing?” Your face turned from joy to bewilderment, and it only took one sentence from an idiot. “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

#veras1ne #adam stanheight smut #adam stanheight x reader #adam stanheight #adam faulkner stanheight #Adam Stanheight imagine #saw x reader #saw imagines #saw 2004 #saw franchise #saw x #saw movies #saw #Adam Stanheight Fluff

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mintaikk · 7 months ago

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Moments I think Blitzø realized his feelings for Stolas

I really don't think that Blitzø had an "Oh" moment. I think it was over a period of time, where he slowly realizes it, and then it comes unleashing out in either The Full Moon or Apology Tour.

Anyways, here

Seeing Stars (S2, ep2)

This was Blitzø's reaction when he saw Stolas's human form for the first time. God, I love his subtle expressions here sm. Read this post, they explain it well, and it's also the post that made me want to make this post.

In the first pic, Blitzø looks surprised and confused, probably from the shock of seeing Stolas's human form for the first time. Probably didn't even consider he ever had one, lol

The second image, we see a small blush appear, and as @ifwebefriends said, it's the "I'm fucked" face, as he is filled with complicated emotions as he realizes he likes Stolas in every form. He looks really worried by this.

The third image, hid pupils are fully dilated. Instead of confused, he looks genuinely worried and vulnerable. His expression doesn't show lust, but more like a mix of someone who is nervous to be around someone they like and genuine fear. He is realizing that it isn't just lust, but that he genuinely likes Stolas, and that's scary to him.

In the fourth image, he quickly turns around, slightly hunched over and rubbing his hands together; both behaviors indicating nervousness, probably at his own emotions. He also asks Stolas if he can somehow give them human disguises, which yes, is relevant to what's going on, but it can also be him being like, "maybe I'm just interested in the human disguise," so he can believe that instead of dealing with his own emotions.

(Also, have this gif of Blitzø checking Stolas out in his human disguise)

Then that scene in Seeing Stars that, when I joined the fandom, was the first thing I saw fans losing their shit over

Nothing much to comment on here. He's actually smiling at Stolas's advances. The other times Stolas flirted with him, it's always been overly aggressive ("jelly sandwiches all night~"), and this time, it's more subtle and intimate, which clearly worked for Blitzø.

Oops (S2, ep6)

In this moment, Fizz hit Blitzø with the allegations, and this was Blitzø's reaction to it. Look at his expressions! The first image looks confused and scared and heart broken, like he knew he fell, but he's either in denial, ignoring it, or doesn't think it's reciprocated; perhaps even all 3.

The second image, he looks sad, angry, and confused, like he doesn't know his emotions and can't name them, but he's hurt. He's frustrated at how complicated things are, and he hates it.

The 3rd image is now just full denial. When lying, people often look to the side or avoid eye contact, which is exactly Blitzø is doing right here. He knows that its more than sex every month, but he's lying to himself, because he can't get hurt if it is just casual.

Alright, imma have to do a part 2 to this cuz I ran out of space. I'll try to go in episode order next time lol, I just go excited with these 2 lol

Part 2

#blitz #blitzo #blitzø #helluva boss blitz #blitz helluva boss #helluva boss blitzo #blitzo helluva boss #helluva boss blitzø #blitzø helluva boss #helluva boss #stolas #stolas goetia #stolitz #helluva boss stolas #stolas helluva boss

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larluce · 10 months ago

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MERLIN PROMPT

Merlin is capture by some bandits for information. Normally he would escape quickly, but these ones figure out soon that he has magic and restrain him with cold Iron. They do torture him in other ways to try to make him speak, but being cut off of his magic is what really traumatizes Merlin. He manages to escape in the end, but one of the bandits shouts at him while he’s running that he will tell the king what he is. So, even when Merlin is later save and sound in Camelot, he’s in constant fear his secret will be exposed at any moment.

The thing is, when Arthur, after sending a lot of search parties, finally finds Merlin in the woods all scarred and terrified and later Merlin refuses to talk about what they did to him, yet Merlin flinches of every touch and is constantly a mervous wreck around everyone, he thinks the worst: Merlin was not only tortured, he was raped. His best friend, the person he treasures the most and has feelings for has been hurt in the worst way possible and it was his fault.

Arthur shares his suspicions with the knights, who share his grief, and they make a vow to protect Merlin. They basically take turns watching over him. Even Lancelot believes this, since Merlin hasn’t told him anything either, but he does think there's more to it, because he finds weird Merlin hasn’t been able to defend himself with his magic. They also make their own investigations to find the bastards who did this to Merlin.

Then the day comes where a man appears in the castle, saying he has relevant information for the king regarding his personal manservant. Arthur, believing is someone who has information about the bandits who took Merlin months ago, lets him in. However when the man is about to speak Merlin storms in.

Arthur: Merlin?

Bandit: (smirks at Merlin) Hello, little pet.

Merlin: (to Arthur, begging in full panic mode) Arthur, please don't listen to him!

Arthur: You know him?

Bandit: (points at Merlin) This man is a sorcerer. He killed all my men with magic!

Silence. All the knights and Arthur somber their gazes. Is not the first time Merlin is accused of magic, but it's definitely the first time he looks so terrified.

Arthur: That's a grave accusation you're making.

Bandit: I can prove it, sire. If you allow me.

Arthur: (turns to Merlin) Merlin? (Thinking) Why aren't you denying it?

Merlin: (breaks into a crying mess) I'm sorry I didn't want you to find out this way.

Bandit: You see? he confessed!

Lancelot: Wait, why did you call him like that?

Bandit: What?

Gawain: (incipient fury) You called him "little pet". Why?

Leon: That's a strange way to call the evil sorcerer who killed all your men, don't you think?

Arthur: (conects the dots, hardening his features) It was you. You are the bastard who raped him!

Merlin and Bandit: (utterly confused) ... what? 😧

Arthur: (roars in rage an launches at the bandit)

Gawain: (does the very same thing)

Elyan, Percival and Leon: (trying their best to stop Arthur and Gawain despite being as furious cause the man can't pay for his crimes if he's turn into a pulp)

Merlin: (too stunned, not knowing what's happening or how to feel)...

Lancelot: (to Merlin) He didn't do that to you, did he?

Merlin: No.

Lancelot: (sighs in relief) Should we tell them?

Merlin: Maybe later... when they are, you know, more willing to listen.

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin fic #merlin prompt #merlin fanfic #merthur fic #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur prompt

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songmingisthighs · 1 year ago

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Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

<< previous | m.list | next >>

ch. xvii - 2 seconds

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

You don't know why you were so nervous to meet Hongjoong again. It wasn't like you fear him. Maybe it was the prospect of getting a new job that make you feel rather nauseated.

Even as you bring your mug to your lips you felt your hands trembling slightly, a sight that made Yeonjun sigh in pity.

Each time the door of Yeonjun's cafe open, you couldn't help but snap your head towarda it, expecting to see the dad and son duo. It happened around 7 times before you saw a familiar boy running and colliding against the door, pressing his face harshly in hopes to open the door but alas his entire body weight was not enough to budge the door. Within seconds, his dad showed up, slightly dishevelled and out of breath and you easily figured Kijoong had slipped away and ran to the cafe by himself.

Once the door opened, Kijoong dashed to you and without you even welcoming him, he climbed up on your lap. "Kijoong!" Hongjoong called out exasperatedly which sadly fell deaf on Kijoong's ears as he squeezed your cheeks together, "HI!" he yelled at your face before giggling and (stranggling) hugging you with his arms tightly. "I'm so sorry," Hongjoong sheepishly apologized and tried to pull Kijoong away only for Kijoong to bite his arm, causing Hongjoong to yelp. "Kijoong!" You gasped, pulling the boy off of you momentarily much to his displeasure, whining and trying to latch on you once again. "You don't bite your dad! You don't do that to anyone!" You scolded, eyebrows furrowing with a finger pointed at the boy.

Hearing you scold him, Kijoong's cartoon puppy ears droop down and his eyes grew round and shiny. Hongjoong was ready to swoop in and tell his son that it was all good, he wasn't hurt, but the sight of you on a stare-off with his son was astonishing. For a while, neither one of you looked like you were going to give up but of course, Kijoong gave up first. He begrudgingly turn to his dad and pouted, "Sorry daddy," then he looked up at you with his bottom lip jutted out. The moment your serious expression melt away however, Kijoong's lips turned upside down and his posture straightened. "Good job, buddy!" You raised a hand for him to high-five which he did (hard).

It took you a while but you soon realized that Hongjoong was watching the two of you and once you came to it, you blushed and ducked your head down, "I- I'm sorry, I should 't have scolded Kijoong like that, I-" "No, please," Hongjoong chuckled, waving you off, "I'm glad I could see a preview of how you and Kijoong would be like."

At the mention of your employment, you sat straighter and you visibly squared. "Speaking of, I need to tell you how I'm concerned how this job is relevant to my career trajectory," you stated, looking serious as Kijoong settled with playing with your hand. "Well, I told you that Kijoong has PNES and so I need someone with medical training who are ready to handle the situation if he has an episode. Currently we're trying to kick start his behavioural therapy but his emotional state is too unstable so a certain level of nursing SOP is needed. Not only that, I need someone who's used to a doctor's schedule," he explained, trying so hard to focus and not comment on how you seemed unbothered when Kijoong began using your hand as a toy, splaying your palm on his face and shaking it off before replanting it. "I'm glad you explained, but I'm still hesitant so I would like to discuss this 3 months probation thing," "Oh, yeah, that. Well, considering how Kijoong is with his previous nannies, I expect he'll do something to run you off within the first two days but seeing as how he seem to like you and how desperate I am, I'm willing to give you provisions that can help you go back to nursing which includes me actually helping you finding jobs until you get recruited. But that will only happen after the three month mark." "Why three month?" "Because it's his school holiday soon and within three months, he'll be busy with school so I can just go back to my previous schedule," he shrugged.

You were hesitant in the beginning and honestly you were still kind of unsure. But you were glad how candid Hongjoong was being about his son and you know because you had asked Wooyoung to tell you about him beforehand. Not to mention the bags under his eyes and how his posture is slightly hunched.

A hand tapped your cheek and you looked down to see Kijoong grinning up at you. "Thirsty, please," he stated which surprised Hongjoong (yet again) because of how polite he was being. "You wanna order something, buddy?" You asked and he nodded enthusiastically. Hongjoong reached over and made a motion to grab Kijoong, "Here, I can take him to the cashier and help him get something," he offered but you shook your head, "I have no problem taking him. That's what you want me to do anyways, right?" You grinned at him before letting Kijoong down and taking his hand to walk him to Yeonjun who was manning the cashier.

Carefully, Hongjoong watched over how you interact with Kijoong. He noticed how you never initiated anything and would instead offer Kijoong options on how he wanted to proceed. For example, Kijoong couldn't see the menu hung on the back that well and you made a point to let him know that there was a menu on the counter by pointing at it and name some items. Knowing that, Kijoong tapped your leg and asked to be raised up so he could see better. It was the little things that you did that made Kijoong felt like he has control and Hongjoong never realized how big of an impact it has on how his son behaves.

For a moment, Hongjoong even indulged in the fantasy of whether or not Kijoong's mother would've treated Kijoong as such and how different Kijoong would've been had she not left them too soon.

Of course, those thoughts were erased once you walked back to the table. Hongjoong's somber expression replaced with a smile when his son excitedly told him that he got himself juice and his dad an iced americano. Though it was a flash, you couldn't help but notice the shift but decided to not bring it up out of politeness.

When you settled back down to your seat, Kijoong as about to climb on your lap again, making it severely obvious to Hongjoong how much he likes and trusts you as he had never done this to someone he had only known for less than a month. It took Mingi half a year for the boy to warm up to him and maybe that was because Mingi was seeing him on a clinical setting.

Your conversation had been cut at a rather hanging manner, there were unsurety from both parties; will this help you with your employment issue? Will this help Hongjoong with his son? Will this be a mistake? It was a bit of a risk for both you and Hongjoong considering the way you both knew each other.

So imagine Hongjoong's surprise when you sighed and leaned on the table with crossed arms. "Okay, so tell me what you can offer salary-wise and benefit." When Hongjoong look at you with eyes widened to the size of saucers, you couldn't help bur find it adorable how Kijoong resembled him so much but you masked that facination with a roll of an eye. "Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna try this job for three months but you better hold up your end, are we clear?" You thrusted your hand forward for him to shake which he gladly grab and shook firmly.

"Okay," Hongjoong cleared his throat, "Let's talk responsibilities."

network :

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taglist :

@yunho-mp3 @strawberry-yeo @luvt0kki @allisonleannn @dinossaurz @khjcs @blackb3ll @aloverga @at1nys-blog @itsbeeble @senpai-of-doom @axo-l0tl @green-thots @intancollins @galaxypox @fire-and-flame @maddiebabyxoxo @alyssajavenss @mirror-juliet @gxlden-bxbyy @charreddonuts @dreamlesswonder86 @mayonnaisehoeshit @kodzukein @teenyfinds @dear-dreamie @mitchloveswriting @soobiverse @satsuri3su @phenomenalgirl9 @guess-monst3r @dimeb29 @ka-ni-ma @yayaistime @angelicyeo @kyume02 @thedistractedwriter @surveilenceysystem @ateezourstars @mismatchfluffysocks @puppyminnnie

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xdirtyxlittlexgirl · 2 years ago

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Hurting & Healing

Pairing: Henry Cavill X Reader

Summary: You get into a terrible accident while Henry's away on shoot

Warning: Super angsty, fluff, mentions of death

Henry finally got a five minute break from his shoot and decided to finally give you a call. He had missed you terribly for the past two months as he was away shooting, and you both got very little time together between shoots. He had requested the director to take some time off so he can finally be with you again and his wish was granted, and he was excited yet relieved to know that he will be seeing you again in a few days. He sat in his chair, sipping his coffee trying to call you but your phone went to voicemail. This was unusual. You had a habit of always picking up his calls in a few seconds. Henry's heart was racing as he tried calling you again and again, but your phone was repeatedly going straight to the voicemail. He couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that was now gnawing on him.

He was about to call you once more when the director called him back to resume the shoot. Reluctantly, he made his way back, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of you. Safe to say he was worried at this point. He decided to ask his managers to try and connect with you while he was working. "Please just keep trying. My mind is thinking things, and I am not feeling good about this. I need to speak with her as soon as possible. You get it? Please." He said sternly to one of his managers, finally making his way back to the set.

But as the shoot went on, his anxiety grew by every ticking second, and he couldn't focus on anything except you. He was on edge and snapping at everyone around him in frustration. He had a temper problem, and it aggravated when he was worried and helpless. He was in the middle of the scene which he was already finding very hard to focus on, when he heard the director say cut. His managers interrupted the shoot and asked him to come to the vanity van. Henry could sense their unease, and his temper flared further. "What's going on? Why the hell are you guys not telling me?" he snapped.

Finally, one of his managers sighed and reluctantly handed him the phone, making him almost snatch it out of the others hand, which displayed a picture of you, bruised and battered laying in a hospital bed. Henry's heart sank. "She got in an accident this morning, and is now being treated in the City hospital. We have called and requested to have the best team of doctors work on her case..." His mind went blank as he kept staring at the pictures and his manager's voice faded in the background replacing it with pure silence.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled to process what he was seeing. After a few good minutes he was pulled from his thoughts as he looked red eyed at his managers. "What the hell happened? Why didn't anyone tell me this before? Fuck!" he yelled punching the wall next to him in pure frustration as he bruised his hands. His managers were shaken and scared seeing him like this. One of them calmly explained that the hospital staff tried to reach them, but didn't have any relevant contacts. It wasn't until one of the nurses recognised her and contacted them. They explained that they had arranged for a charter flight to take him to her immediately.

Henry couldn't believe what was happening. He had never felt this helpless in his life. You were his world, and seeing you like this tore him apart. He felt like he had failed you. He wanted to be around you. He knew how much you were missing him. He was now blaming himself for your situation. "Fuck! I wish I was there with her sooner! I wish I was there with her to protect her. It was my fucking job. It is all my fucking fault. Fuck!" He said through gritted teeth as he again punched his hand this time in the car door creating an evident dent. His managers were doing everything to calm him down, but it was all in vain.

Trembling with fear and anguish, Henry packed his bags and rushed to the airport. The flight felt like an eternity, and his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, and he couldn't help but think the worst, which pained him even more. He sat in the plane, his mind in a haze. The world around him seemed distorted, like a funhouse mirror that distorted and twisted everything into a grotesque caricature. He couldn't believe that you were just fine last night, all smiling and beautiful, and now you laid in a hospital bed, bruised and broken, while he had been away. You meant everything to him, and the thought of losing you was making him lose his sanity. He didn't know he loved you this much, that every second felt like eternity knowing he could lose you.

He closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths, but his chest felt tight, and the air seemed to escape him. He could feel his temper rising, his frustration mounting with every passing moment. He pounded his fists on the armrest, feeling a surge of anger that he couldn't control. "Why did this have to happen?" he muttered to himself. "Why her? Why now?" The plane hit turbulence, and Henry jolted in his seat, the sudden movement breaking through his thoughts. He looked around, his eyes falling on the bottle and glass that lay on the table in front of him. Without thinking, he reached out and knocked them off the table, the sound of shattering glass filling the cabin. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it was no use. The anger was still there, simmering just below the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

The flight attendant approached him, concerned etched on her face. "Sir, is everything okay?" she asked softly. He shook his head, unable to speak, and the flight attendant nodded sympathetically before walking away. He was afraid. Terribly scared to lose you. The words by his managers from before, finally echoed in his head. They mentioned you were in a critical condition, although they followed it up with a lot of hope, he couldn't shake away the sight of you, which made his fear grow stronger.

"God, please let her be okay," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I can't bear to see her like this." Finally his anger started to leave his body, replacing it with intense pain, guilt, fear, and hurt. He was alone with his thoughts, trapped in a prison of his own making. He couldn't escape the pain, no matter how hard he tried. He felt like he was drowning, suffocating under the weight of his own emotions, and the only way out of it, was to finally see you.

"I love you, princess" he whispered, the words barely audible over the roar of the plane's engines. "Please be okay." He said looking at the wallpaper of the two of you on his mobile, his throat tightening and choking with pain.

As the plane landed, Henry's heart was beating out of his chest. He could feel his anxiety and stress levels skyrocketing. His managers were already arranging for a safe passage through the airport, but as they stepped outside, a mob of fans surrounded him, all clamoring for his attention.

"Mr. Cavill, can we have a picture with you?"

"Please sign me an autograph, Henry!"

Henry tried to sign a few of them off politely, begging them to let him leave, but as he pushed through the crowd, he heard a fan talking about you. "I'm not (y/n), but I deserve some attention too!" His frustration boiled over, and he turned around, scolding her almost tearing up talking about you. "She's in the hospital fighting for her life, and all you care about is a damn autograph? Get some perspective woman!" Finally, he broke free from the crowd and drove towards the hospital. His heart sank as he saw the sign "Intensive Care Unit" in bold letters. He asked the receptionist for your whereabouts, and the receptionist recognized him immediately.

"Oh my god, you're Henry Cavill! I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you at first. Follow me, Mr Cavill, I'll take you to her doctor." As they entered the doctor's cabin, Henry could feel his frustration, pain, and rage building up inside of him. The doctor gave him a somber look and spoke in a serious tone. "Mr. Cavill, I'm sorry to say that (y/n) has suffered severe head trauma, and the chances of her recovery are low. She is at a high risk of amnesia or worse, of slipping into coma. We are doing everything we can to keep her stable, but we need to prepare you for the worst." Henry felt like his world was crumbling around him. The doctor's words were like a punch in the gut, and he felt his eyes welling up with tears. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, losing the whole of his heart.

"Please, doctor, do everything in your power to save her. I can't lose her. I just can't." He spoke between tears trying to get the words out of his throat, although they came barely over a whisper. The doctor gave him a sympathetic look, knowing that there was only so much they could do. He was shattered into a million pieces, and he felt like he was drowning in his own pain and despair. All he could do was hold onto hope and pray for a miracle.

He sat in the waiting area, his eyes glued to the door of the ICU room. His mind is racing, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He has been waiting there for hours, hoping and praying that the doctors will give him some good news. Finally, the door opens, and the doctor steps out. Henry stands up, his fear plastered on his face as he approaches the doctor. "How is she?" he asks, his voice trembling with emotion.

The doctor takes a deep breath and looks Henry in the eye. "She's stable," he says. "But she still hasn't regained consciousness. We're doing everything we can, but the next few hours are critical." He nods, he felt his heart sinking. He felt like he's been hit by a truck. He can't believe that this was happening. He's never felt so powerless in his life. All he can do is sit and wait and hope. He was finally here, but he still couldn't do anything to fix you, to save you, to protect you...

He had begged the doctor to let him see her but he refused. The doctor explained how they're still treating your wounds and he will be able to see you later today. He nodded and patiently, yet impatiently waited outside the ICU. Hours pass, and finally, the doctor comes back to him. "Although she's still unconscious, we have shifted her to a room, and you can go see her now." he says. His heart leaps into his throat as he follows the doctor into the room. He sees you lying there, pale and still, hooked up to all sorts of machines. His heart breaks at the sight.

He takes her hand in his, feeling the coldness of your skin. Tears well up in his eyes once again, as he leans down to whisper in your ear. "Baby girl, I'm here," he says, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. Please, come back to me. I need you." He said, finally breaking into a sob that he had been holding for hours.

He sits by your side, holding your hand and talking to you, telling you all the things he's been holding back for so long. He tells you how much he loves you, how he can't imagine his life without you, how he'll do anything to make you better. He tells you all the things he's sorry for, all the things he wishes he could have done differently. His trying his best to make you feel his presence and bring you to life again. He needed you to speak back to him. As he talks, tears roll down his cheeks, and he can feel the pain and sorrow inside him grow. He's never felt so vulnerable in his life, and he knows that if you won't make it, he'll never be the same again. He tries to shake these negative thoughts and for now, all he can do is hope and pray and be by your side, holding your hand.

Hours passed as he didn't realise and fell asleep, curled up in a chair beside your bed, holding your hand tightly. He was exhausted, emotionally drained, and his body ached from sitting in the same position for so long, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to be there for you, to be the first thing you see when you wake up. As the night passed, he was into a deep slumber, but he was quickly awoken by a faint voice calling his name. He jerked upright, his heart pounding in his chest, as looked at you in shock. Yoy were awake.

"Baby?" he said, his voice choked with emotion. "Oh my God, you're awake. Are you okay? How do you feel?" He asked everything without a breath. He then immediately rang the bell to call the nurses and the doctor. "How is she now?" He asked impatiently to the doctor. "She's surprisingly much better Mr Cavill, looks like you were what she needed to heal." The doctor said finally leaving the two of you alone.

"How are you feeling princess? You scared me so much. I'm so glad you're okay. Fuck." He said with tears running down his face as he held her hand right continuously kissing your hand. You smiled weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel...okay. A little sore. But I'm glad to see you. I thought I'd never see you again" His eyes filled with tears as he leaned in and lifted you gently into his arms, holding you close to him. "Oh, baby don't say that. I would never let anything happen to you." he said, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry. I should have been here. I should have been there to protect you. I can't believe this happened." You stroked his cheek and smiled reassuringly. "It's not your fault, Henry. It was an accident. I'm just glad you're here now." He just held you like his life depended on it. You could feel how scared he was and how he was holding onto you like a little baby. You ran your hand gently through his hair and you can already feel yourself healing. He was your medicine. He was your relief. You couldn't imagine you were holding him after almost two months and now you didn't want to let go.

Henry took a deep breath and kissed your lips, feeling overwhelmed with relief and love. "I was so scared," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know what to do. I thought I was going to lose you." Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him. "You're not going to lose me," she said, your voice soft but firm. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Henry and you're stuck with me." You said giggling a little through your tears. His heart swelled with love and emotion as he looked down at you. "I love you so much more my princess. God I love you so much more..." he said, his voice thick with emotion. For a few moments, you just held each other, lost in your love and relief. You can feel how his heart has now picked a softer pace. He needed you as much as you needed him.

Later, he pulled back a little, looking at you with concern. "What happened?" he asked. "How did this happen?" You knew you were gonna get in trouble if you answered this. You just smiled weakly but he asked again as you sighed. "I remember losing control of the car...and then hitting the tree. After that, everything is a blur. But I'm okay now and so much better with you here." You said trying to glaze everything with hope and happiness, in hopes that he won't get mad at you. He hated your age old secondhand car and had strictly asked you to take the new ones he has parked up for you. He even offered to drive his Aston Martin around. But you loved this car, it was the first thing you bought with your own money. Although he was right, this car had served you enough, and now just something you should be keeping for sentimental value.

He looked at you with narrowed eyes. "How many times have I asked you to stay away from this junk? What if I had lost you today? Hun?" He snapped. He was now angry but you expected this. He was worried for you and he was right, this car almost took your life today. "I'm sorry Henry. I won't do it again" You say politely pulling him in a hug as he immediately melts down and nuzzles his head in your hair. "I know baby, I'm sorry to get mad at you, but I almost thought I lost you today. I was so scared, and I have told you so many times to dump that car. I just.. I wanted to save your from exactly this." He said softly now gently rubbing your back and kissing your head and shoulders. "I'm so sorry baby, I promise I won't do it again. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I love you." You say stroking his cheek and leaning in to kiss him.

You were kissing him after two months and it felt like tasting heaven. He was your medicine. His words, his touch, his kisses, everything healed you. He healed you and you wanted nothing more. Henry smiled through the kiss and hugged you tightly, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. "I love you too, my princess," he said. "I love you more than anything. And I'm never going to let anything happen to you again."

____

A/N: Please send in your fic requests! Asks Open!

#domhenrycavill #henry cavil x y/n #henry cavill #henry cavill one shot #henry+cavill+fluff #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female ofc #henry cavill x short!reader #henry+cavill+smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill angst #henry cavill smut #lovinghenrycavill #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill+fluff #henry Cavill+ angst

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jaebeomsbitch · 2 years ago

Text

Out Of Control (R.R.)

Summary: After years of working for Roman you're finally fed up by the late night calls and verbal abuse. You put Roman in his rightful place.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, humiliation kink, degradation, verbal abuse, dryhumping,

A/N: The stills of Kieran innocently looking up in the actors on actors really wrote this

You were Roman’s first personal assistant. He usually chose to run by himself whereas his siblings had their assistants two steps behind them. He’d joke that they were corporate slaves and you were lucky to be working under him with that knowing smirk on his face. He had a certain aversion to you, something about your presence rubbed him the wrong way. You couldn’t stand him either, always telling yourself it was only temporary while you paid off your loans. Only a year until you finish, you promised yourself.

Only one more year of being antagonized by Roman. He has this annoying habit of calling you at two or three in the morning, demanding you hand deliver some documents to his penthouse. He threatens to fire you if you don’t comply. Only one more year… twelve more months with that insufferable bastard. You stomp toward the elevator, giving the doorman a nod. He’s all too used to seeing you come in pissed off, steam practically blowing out of your ears. As the door dings open you try to remind yourself to keep calm. Don’t snap at him, he’d probably find pleasure in it.

“God no, they’re soulless. I think every time they're on their phone they’re spilling company secrets. Shut the fuck up, no- No. Let me fucking talk Jesus christ. I don’t fucking– Fuck you!” he hangs up his phone call, startled seeing you at the entrance. He motions for you to come in, doesn’t even bother to greet you. You huff, handing him the documents then turning away, prepared to leave.

“Wait,” He says, hand up in the air. You can’t help but roll your eyes, god even his voice was annoying. It was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Yes?” You respond, voice a little more aggressively than you liked. You wanted to appear collected in front of Roman. Knowing he’d use your weaknesses against you.

“These are the wrong documents, I asked for 12-15. This– you’re fucking kidding me right?” He scoffs, his anger seeping through the room.

“Okay,” You nod stiffly, he definitely didn’t ask for twelve through fifteen but you knew how he operated. He’d always try to push your buttons, ask for one thing and then demanding the other. You learned to keep a copy of anything that’s relevant to him at the time. You look through your bag, pulling out the new documents.

“I also need the documents for the LA contract,” He says, knowing you won’t have those. He hasn’t dealt with the LA branch in almost a year.

“Right now?” You ask, already knowing how he’s gonna reply.

“No fuckin’ tomorrow, yes right now. I can’t sit around and wait for you,” He sneers, a facial expression you’re all too familiar with.

“Give me an hour, need any other document?” You hold your tongue.

“An hour! What type of assistant are you? Jess would’ve had those documents prepared yesterday. You’re fuckin’ useless, maybe I should fire you,” He taunts, his finger pointed at you.

“You know what, fuck this! I fucking quit asshole,” You yell at him. Finally at your breaking point, the late night calls, the beratings, the sexual remarks all too much. His eyes widen, not expecting you to snap. You’re always so calm and collected it honestly scared him. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, unable to mask his true feelings.

“Yeah good riddance,” He gives you a half wave, not looking at you. He pretends to study the documents you handed him, he tries to keep his fear down. Another person in his life gone.

“No- that’s not how this is gonna work,” You enunciate every word, your anger pushing you forward. The years of holding in your pent up emotions finally spilling out.

“You’re a selfish fucking brat, you call me at three in the fucking morning for documents I know you won’t fucking read because you’ll make me read them for you. You’re a fucking piece of shit Roman– Worse. You’re worse than a piece of shit, I think somewhere deep down inside you know you’re nothing. You’re just the cowardly little boy of a billionaire. If only another fucking sperm won huh? Maybe they’d be more fucking competent than you,” You deride.

He looks at you mouth wide open, he’d only ever been spoken to like this by one other person. However, you were more vile and a whole lot less controlled. He notices the way you shake in anger, shit… why was this kind of hot? He clears his throat, trying to drop the documents in his hand on his lap inconspicuously.

“You’re fired, you can leave,” He tries to say in an even tone but his voice cracks a little. You take your time to study him, “No– I’ve taken and taken verbal abuse from you for fucking years now. The least you can do is the same. I’m fired anyway right? Call your security if you’re so scared,” you mock.

“You are the worst type of human, Roman, for someone who talks about his dick all day he can’t fucking use it. I’ve heard the countless stories of scared little Roman pushing women off of him. If you can’t get hard then maybe stop fucking talking to me about your dick. God even your fucking cock is useless just like you,” You sigh, throwing your hands in the air in frustration.

“You seem a little obsessed with my cock for someone who doesn’t want to hear about it,” He chuckles to himself.

“Do you think I’m stupid or that I haven’t noticed? Take the fucking papers off your lap Roman,” You gibe.

“Is this what you like? Can’t fuck your girlfriends because they don’t tell you how fucking disgusting you are? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man,” You take a few steps closer, hovering above him, your breath coming out in puffs. He sits there dumbfounded, at your confidence. You are right, he’s painfully hard under the papers, precum already spilling in his underwear. You forcefully take the documents out of his hand, throwing them on the table.

“You like being reminded how you mean nothing to the world? If I killed you right now, you wouldn’t even make an ATN headline,” You snarl, pushing his shoulder into the seat. He pants, unable to form sentences, random syllables spilling out, he seems like he's under a spell.

“God, what if someone found out hmm? They figured out how the ‘illusive’ Roman Roy likes to be pushed around in bed? That his little dick gets hard at people degrading him?” You push your fingers into his chest. His eyes are half-lidded, mouth open, breath rushing out.

“Get on the floor,” You command, walking over to sit on his couch. He sits there dumbfounded for a second, blinking in confusion.

“Are you fucking stupid? Get on the floor right now Roman,” you say more forcefully. He slowly climbs out of the seat, sitting on his knees. He looks down, embarrassed but he can’t fight your command, your voice has him under some sorcery. That familiar cadence in your voice brings him something he craved.

“Crawl to me, like the disgusting fucking dog you are,” You order, crossing one leg over the other. There is a certain pleasure in watching your annoying boss crawl to you on all fours. His head unable to look up at you as he crowds your leg. He hangs his head in shame, his humiliation seeping in as his cock presses against the zipper on his slacks. He can’t help but shudder at the feeling.

“Is this what you wanted, hmm?” You say sarcastically.

“You acted like a spoiled fucking brat so I can treat you like this? If you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked, like a big boy. So tell me, is this what you wanted?” You ridicule. He can’t look up at you, the words stuck in his throat. It feels like he has honey in his mouth.

“For someone so chatty you sure are quiet now,” You roll your eyes, uncrossing your legs, and leaning forward. You grab his chin in your hand, forcefully pulling him to look at you. His big hazel eyes are watery, he almost looks innocent, but you remember all those times he’s called you nasty names, all his insults.

“Answer me moron,” You bare your teeth, face centimeters from his.

“Y-yes,” He sighs, finally maintaining eye contact.

“‘Yes’ Yes what?” You mock him.

“Yes, I-I called you here to make you mad,” He admits, his eyebrows furrowing making his face look somehow even more innocent.

“What did you want to happen Romulus?” You use his full-name knowing it’s only reserved for when his father is really mad at him. It feels foreign in your mouth and yet perfect. You feel powerful as he shivers under your piercing gaze.

“I- d’know,” He slurs his words, trying to look away from you. His embarrassment hanging heavy as your prod. He truly didn’t know what he wanted… He just wanted to be dominated. You seemed like the perfect person. You were cool and collected with a sea of rage hiding underneath the surface. He was attracted to you the first time he saw you working for Kendall. Something about stealing his brother’s prized possession felt good.

You slip off your shoe, putting it on his couch not caring if it stains it. You press the bottom of your sole to his chest, pushing him deeper onto his knees until his ass hits the floor.

“God you’re pathetic,” You scoff, looking at his big hazel eyes. You run your foot down his chest, he looks down following your path, you drop it to the bulge in his pants, lightly pressing against it. His breath quickens, eyes closing shut as you start moving your foot back and forth. He tries to ground himself, grabbing onto your calf, his nails digging into your skin.

“Who said disgusting pieces of shit like you are allowed to touch me?” You push his hands away from you, his eyes opening.

“Now, what do you want?” You ask him, crossing your arms over your chest, your foot stops, giving him a chance to think. His mouth opens and closes.

“I- I– I–” he can’t form a full sentence as you start rubbing him through his slacks again.

“ ‘I- I–’ Look at you, you’re all stupid already. Your underwear must be a mess, huh? Fucking useless pervert,” You smirk, enjoying the huffs of his breath filling the room. His hands twitching at his side, his cock throbbing at your words, he lets out a little sound.

“What’s wrong? Already gonna cum? Gonna ruin your pants before you’ve even got your cock in me?” His hands grip the sides of his pants, his hips following your foot. He mewls when you stop, you drop your foot in between his thighs.

“Be a good pup and get yourself off,” You command. He looks at you a little lost but scoots closer, he takes a tentative buck against your leg. He tilts his head back, eyes shutting at the friction, he can’t help but moan..

“Look at you, what would your dad think? What would think seeing his pathetic son humping his assitant’s leg like a fucking dog,” You say.

“Ye- Yes, be so disappointed,” He moans, he bucks his hips faster, losing himself in the feeling.

“Look at you humping my leg like a bitch in heat. You’re fucking pathetic, you disgust me,” You snarl and it pushes him over the edge. His hips twitch, he bites down on your knee, his cum leaking all over his underwear, as he gasps trying to catch his breath, practically slobbering on your knee and inner thigh.

“C’mon,” You pull him up by his armpit onto the couch. He’s shaking, this all was too much, his feelings overflowing.

“Shh.. it’s okay,” You pull him close, rubbing his back as his emotions crash over him like a wave. He rocks himself back and forth in your arms as you soothe him, you pull him onto your lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your scent until he’s calmed down. Isn’t this a bitch? You have to calm him down. You’d feel much differently if this was a scene and he was your sub but he decided to take the difficult route.

“You okay?” You ask, breaking the awkward silence. He doesn’t know what to say, he needed the release, craved it but now that it’s over he’s left with that hole in his heart again. If only you both were different. If you weren’t his assistant and he wasn’t an asshole.

“Yeah, I’m good. So good,” He scoffs, removing himself from your lap. He doesn’t look at you, walking into his bedroom and changing. After about twenty minutes of waiting you decide to leave, clearly he wasn’t emotionally mature to talk about whatever happened between the two of you.

To your surprise you get a phone call in the morning, “Where the fuck are you, god you’re so incompetent!” Roman grumbles on the line. His words have no bite now that you know how to put him in his place.

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