#They promise that they will be by each others sides from here on out. That they will trust each other. But. Well. You know the story | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cosmictheo · 9 hours ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | kang dae-ho

—summary: a sudden closeness of you and player 333 makes dae-ho's usually sweet mood swing in the opposite way, triggered by pure jealousy. why would you ever need anyone else when you've got him right there? —pairing: kang dae-ho/player 388 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —contains: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, really passionate sex, voyeurism, public sex, sub dae-ho!!! (canon), slight praise kink if you squint, he talks to you through it, jealous and possessive behavior, fluff, dae-ho being so in love with the reader.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

Kang Dae-ho had been protecting you ever since he had helped you survive Green Light, Red Light, the first game of all this hell in disguise as a promising new opportunity.

Not knowing you from absolutely nothing, he stepped right in front of you, stretching a hand out to the back to hold yours and guide you across the arena, playing human shield until together, you had crossed the finish line.

And that basically summed up the kind of person Dae-ho is; kind-hearted, courageous, selfless, caring. He was one of the best people you had ever met and he was making this whole calvary into something much better, something brighter, something to keep fighting for until you made it out of there.

Since that, he had stuck by your side, practically standing as your own shadow, constantly putting you first, looking out for your well-being and safety. Without him, you would probably be dead by now, devoid of purpose.

The other players had already gotten used to seeing the two of you together, always watching each other's backs and fooling around and strategizing. Through thick and thin, you were together.

It was only a matter of time —hours—; before something else began to spark between the two of you, growing every time your hands brushed, or when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders or when your bodies cocooned in each other's warmth at night when you slept. A tension was just starting to build, an emotion that for some reason, would always make Dae-ho nervous and flustered, whenever you'd smile at him or clasp his bicep to be by his side every time Gi-hun related a story from his past experience at the games, or when you'd lean your head on his shoulder or when you'd hug each other every time a game ended.

Whatever it was, out of the same feeling, Dae-ho sensed a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, feeling as if his guts were constricting like a viper, every time you chatted with the 333 player.

He looks at you from the distance, frowning slightly as you laugh at something the guy says, he doesn't even know why he dislikes him so much... he just does.

“Why are you all puckered up?” Jung-bae questions him, pausing his own story to express concern for his teammate's face, following his gaze until he finds you, naturally.

Dae-ho clicks his tongue, shaking his head gently, his tone of voice fluctuating between disbelief and annoyance, "Why is she even over there? It's dangerous"

“Dangerous? Buddy, she's just talking to him. He saved her in the last game, remember?” Jung-bae answers him, confused by the uncharacteristic grumpy attitude of the younger man, used to the sight of him being so cheerful and jovial and optimistic.

“If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be here,” Young-il adds, also glancing at how you whisper with player 333, “She's just being polite.”

But Dae-ho huffs humorlessly, forcing his eyes to drag from you to Jung-bae standing in front of him, his fingers still grasping his fork tightly, not really feeling like eating lunch today, “Bullshit, I would've saved her anyway. She didn't need him.”

Gi-hun rolls his eyes, sitting by his side as he quietly observes the whole scene, chewing a mouthful of rice, “You're just jealous, man, admit it,” he pronounces with his mouth half full, eyes attentively scanning Dae-ho's reaction.

The whole group of men laugh upon seeing Dae-ho's face morph to one of embarrassment and some offense, cheeks blushing furiously at Gi-hun's fake allegation.

“I'm n-not jealous” he tries to defend himself with a stuttering voice, looking frantically around the amused faces of the men around him, his fingers letting his fork drop by his twitching and nervous state, attracting the attention of a few players who were nearby, including yours, which only makes Dae-ho to blush even redder.

Jung-bae smiles playfully, picking up the fork that had fallen to the ground, “And you're being overdramatic.”

“I am not!” Dae-ho squeals, his brow furrowing as he stands up and yanks the fork out of Jung-bae's hand. As the whole group laughs at him, his eyes again search for you in the crowd, finding you in record time, and his whole face darkens again as he notices the way your hand is resting down the player 333's forearm, like you would usually do with him.

He sighs heavily and for the first time, he seriously considers the words of the older men.

Time passes unnoticed within that place, hours perhaps, days? No one really knows.

But the warning that the lights go out in thirty minutes usually means that you should lie down and rest for the next event that the monsters who created this have planned for you all.

The first thing you notice when you arrive at the bed you share with Dae-ho, is that he is lying on his side with his back to you, which concerns you a little, since he never had his back to you when he would sleep.

Something is off.

“Dae-ho?” you call out his name in a gentle whisper, sitting down on the bunk and looking across the broadness of his back with worried eyes, “Are you okay?”

No response.

“Hey,” you try again gently, thinking that maybe he's not exactly having a good day, considering the current situation you're stuck in.

Dae-ho is feeling his chest heaving as he senses your hand laying on his shoulder, fingers delicately squeezing his flesh beneath the tracksuit jacket.

And suddenly, he's cracking up.

“I'm trying to sleep” and yet, he replies to you curtly, without showing even the slightest sign of rolling over and wanting to actually look at you.

You admire his back with unconvinced eyes for a moment, lying down on the bed and resting your head on the pillow, your hand moving from his shoulder, down his back, across his shoulder blades, before dropping to the surface of the bed.

“You sound off.”

Dae-ho considers his options; whether to just keep talking to you in that oh-so-ungentlemanly way —which made him physically cringe—; whether to express everything he was feeling or just stay quiet and pretend to sleep.

In any case, he acts on impulse, rolling over so he can finally look at you, his eyes softening the instant they meet yours, his heart beating hard and fast, pounding in his ears.

“It's not good for you to associate with players outside our group,” he suddenly blurts out and sees how you just stare at him with further confusion washing over your pretty face, “It could be dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” you inquire, silently urging him to elaborate on his point. You are quick to notice how deadly serious his face is, his lips lightly pursed and his eyes solemn, a look that is unusual on him. You don't like to see him like that, like everyone there usually acted.

“Player 333,” he replies, jaw clenched, his eyes following you as you sat up again on the bed, looking down at him in sheer confusion, as if somehow, you aren't recognizing him, “I saw the way he was looking at you.”

He sounds... hurt? Disappointed?

“Lee Myung-gi” your face turns enlightened, finally understanding what he's referring to now.

Dae-ho deflects his gaze away from yours, slightly rolling his eyes. Whatever that idiot's name was...

“I was just talking to him. He saved me in the last game, Dae-ho,” you explain in an overly naive tone, a little smile curving the corner of your lips, “I went to thank him”

“But I am the one doing that, that's why I'm here. You didn't need him, you have me,” he retorts back to you instantly, your name being pronounced by his lips like a plea for mercy, gesturing to himself with his hand for emphasis on his words. Your brow furrows at the same time as his, your lips turning into a small pout, feeling like a scolded child, “I was going to save you anyway! You only need me, no one else...”

His voice fades the more he speaks, shaky hand brushing through his loose hair. And now you notice it, the betrayed and hurt expression on his face, his eyes hiding something more than friendliness, something much deeper and bigger.

He is jealous.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” you are questioning him, getting more comfortable on the mattress, your voice keeping low so as not to wake the others, but also firm on your side of the little argument. You had done nothing wrong, “He was just being a good companion—”

“He didn't seem to be performing the good companion role,” Dae-ho interrupts you, spitting out the words as if they were venomous, rising himself up to also sit on the bed and face you, gesticulating with his hands, his tone of voice is fueled by sarcasm and subtle irony now, “I didn't like the way he was looking at you... neither how you were touching him with your hand.”

He crosses his arms and resembles a sulky kid who's had his favorite toy taken away, but you're too pissed off to pause and laugh at him.

Instead, you roll your eyes, starting to unbutton your jacket, feeling too hot all of a sudden, Dae-ho's eyes follow your fingers as they pull down the zipper, “You're being overdramatic.”

"I'm not!" he gasps-whispers, expression offended, he genuinely does seem to be feeling betrayed by what you had done. He leans close to you, so close that you feel the natural warmth of his body, but you stand your ground, looking at him with baffled eyes, his gaze remains soft yet aching, “I'm just looking out for you.”

“You'd rather I touch your arm then?” you raise an eyebrow on your forehead, dropping the jacket by the bottom of the bed, holding his gaze, “Is that what this is all about?”

The effect of your words in instantaneous on Dae-ho, blushing and causing him to pull away from you rather abruptly, brushing his hand through his hair again like a maniac.

“Yes,” he replies with certainty, the word barging into his throat before he could even think of a reasonable response, so he shakes his head slightly, “I mean no— I mean yes—” he cuts himself off, flustered by your attentive gaze, “—that's not the point! The point is that you don't need to go to anyone else when you have me right here.”

He gulps hard, eagerly waiting for your reaction through desperate, sheepish eyes.

“I know,” you whisper, letting out a soft sigh from your mouth, switching to a more empathetic postur. Then you nod your head and stretch out a hand towards him, who wastes no second in reaching out to take it and pull it close to his chest, nuzzling your knuckles with his thumb, “But he just dragged me with him, I couldn't do much,” you offer him a small apologetic smile, “I know you would have saved me anyway, Dae-ho.”

“Of course,” he murmurs your name, bringing your hand to his mouth to press his lips onto your knucles, kissing your smooth skin, “You're not alone, you're with me. You are everything...”

Without saying anything, you move closer to him and hug him. Dae-ho is more than happy to reciprocate your embrace, wrapping his beefy arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck, breathing in your sweet and comforting scent, the scent he so adores. You feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your neck and a shiver runs through you from head to toe.

One of your hands goes up to his head, caressing his hair, fingers sinking into his dark long locks, the soothing and so intimate touch making him sigh.

“You're jealous,” you murmur after a moment of comfortable, heart-warming silence, and he stiffens, his body freezing, you can feel the way his muscles tense against yours.

Dae-ho pulls away from you just a little, far enough to be able to look at you, offering you a sheepish little smile, his cheeks blushing from all the attention and touch and closeness, the way you're talking and looking at him has him breathless.

“Maybe a little,” his expression shifts to one of shame as he dares to confess, valiantly enough to hold your gaze, letting himself fall into the gentleness of your eyes, always so lively and playful, but as beautiful and sparkling as a pair of gemstones, with your long lashes brushing your cheekbones every time you blink.

His hands gently squeeze your waist, contouring your curves and fitting into them perfectly, as if crafted for him to touch and hold.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweets,” you assure him, like a promise, a complicity, leaning into him again.

Dae-ho swallows loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels your beautiful soft lips press down onto his throat, kissing his bouncing Adam's apple. He can feel himself in heaven, letting himself be swept up by the way you are treating him, the way your hands run down his body, passing down his chest until they stop at his midsection, just at the moment your tongue traces across his skin, making him hiss, feeling all the air being knocked out of his lungs.

“Fuck— ngh,” he whimpers, his whole body aching with heat, his heart pumping hot blood into his crotch, heartbeats matching up with each of your wet kisses on his neck.

His big hands wander over your waist, lightly caressing your lower back, fingers barely grazing the curve of your ass above the fabric of your tracksuit pants, clasping the flesh, pressing you helplessly against his body. His touch is needy, but nonetheless respectful, as gentlemanly as ever.

“Is this okay?” comically enough he's the one to ask as your mouth reaches his chin by a wet trail of soft kisses through his skin and he almost feels himself cumming into his boxers by the way you open your eyes to look up at him, pupils dilated in pleasure.

You sigh out a soft chuckle and your breath crashes against his half-open lips, needily breathing in your air, breathing you in. Your fingers fiddle with the edge of his jacket.

“You want this?”

It's stupid that you even had the mere thought of that question.

“Yes, please, baby— please,” Dae-ho rushes to answer, hands squeezing everything they could grab from you, desperately, “Can I kiss yo—”

Before he managed to formulate the question your lips are on his and from one second to the next he pulls you close to sit on his lap, making you feel his erection press against the underside of your thigh.

Frantically, between kisses, tongues recognizing each other and hands grasping what they can of the other, he helps you to remove his shirt, breaking away for just a moment to pull it over his head, looking at you with eyes darkened with desire.

He groans against your mouth as you kiss again, your teeth nibbling gently on his bottom lip.

“Shh...” you coo against his lips, pushing him down to make his back lay against the bed, “You don't want the others to hear, do you?”

A playful smile stretches at the corner of his lips, squeezing your butt once you leaned over him to begin kissing his chest, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling the way your back arches.

“I wouldn't mind if 333 listens—”

“Dae-ho,” you name him disapprovingly, but your eyes are heavy with playfulness and longing.

He gazes adoringly up as you take off your shirt, eyes roaming down your neck, across your chest, down your stomach.

“You're so pretty, fuck— come here,” he tugs you closer to him to kiss you one more time, his hands detaching from your hips to lift his own, pulling down his pants and his now, wrecked boxers, clumsily sliding the waistband of the cloth down his thighs.

His dick springs free and it has you open-mouthed, staring down at it with eyes of raw longing and adoration. His mushroom-shaped, leaking, needy head bumps barely against his lower abdomen, lining up with his happy trail.

Dae-ho blushes under your gaze, one of his hands caresses your hip to attract your attention back to his face.

“Can you handle it, baby?” his tone of voice lowers sheepishly.

Your cunt pulsates around nothing from his words only and in less than ten seconds, you're stripping off your pants too, pulling your soaking wet panties aside. He can actually feel how wet you are when your pussy barely brushes against his bare crotch, he has to resist to keep from cumming right there.

“I can— fuck, yeah— I can handle it,” you babble tremblingly through gentle gasps as he reaches his cock, stroking it three times before he aligns it with your inviting hole, rubbing it slowly up and down your slit to scoop up all of your wetness, and use it as a natural lube.

Dae-ho bites down on his lower lip to muffle a moan that ascends his throat, feeling the head of his cock push up into the tight entrance of your pussy, plunging between your slick folds.

He leans his forehead flat against your chest, nestling right between your breasts, his whole body trembling from a riot of pleasure, muffling his moans and noises against your skin.

“Shit, y-you're— h-hah— you're so wet,” he raspes out into your bare skin, his lips slurring insults and name-calling you like a prayer, a poem through your sweaty skin, his tongue rolls out from between his parted lips, coating your skin with his drool.

His hands are roaming over your hips, each digit digging into the fat of your ass, never applying weight, giving you all the time you needed to settle onto his size, yet his voice was desperate and eager with anticipation, “So tight— so pretty.”

Your lips are pressed against the crown of his head, breathing shakily as you begin to lower yourself into him achingly slow, drawing a gasp from both of you. Your palms squeeze his broad shoulders, suppressing the urge to cry out with every inch he is pushing his way inside you, your pussy fluttering and squishing him deeper.

“Yeah, just like that, that's it,” Dae-ho is praising you, pressing sloppy kisses all over your tits, fingers caressing your lower back while his other hand pats your ass appraisingly, “just a little more, baby, a little m-more and I'm all yours— I'm yours.”

His words really touch your very core, hand sliding up his neck to sink into his hair and pull it, making him hiss as he licks your nipple. Your pussy swallows another inch of him and you feel him in your fucking guts by now. He feels your squishy walls clench around him like a vice and he refuses to even think about the possibility of a life without feeling like this again.

“Dae-ho,” you whimper his name as the bulging tip of his cock reaches a particular spongy spot and instantly your whole body reacts as well.

“Mh-hm,” his lips lick and kiss your collarbone all the way up your neck and then he kisses your lips, “I'm here. I got you, I always got you,” his eyes finally lock with yours again and you nearly feel every single muscle and organ in your abdomen twitch when you notice tears being held back in them, all from the flood of pleasure and bliss your body is giving him.

He can feel himself in heaven, beneath you, his hips grinding up into yours as his cock is plunged so deep inside you.

Dae-ho kisses you again, intoxicated, a thread of spit remains connecting your mouths once you part.

A few more long seconds and you're all the way down sitting on him, his heavy, throbbing balls pressed flush against your ass. Your pussy envelops him thoroughly, molding into his shape as you breathe a deep sigh and Dae-ho breathes out as well when your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

“There you are, my baby, you're doing s-so good,” he croaks, fondling your backside affectionately, feeling your dampness dripping down his thighs, “Holy shit you feel good... I'm so deep—”

And when you start to move on top of him, he has to close his eyes, his sweaty palms pawing your ass, hopeless for your mercy.

But you have no mercy, your pussy, your thighs, your fucking hips, the way you look down at him and ride him, giving him whiplash with every bounce. And he can swear he knows you from another life, from the way his cock forms a shape inside you, reaching parts within you that no one else has been capable of reaching before, as if your body was made for him— no, as if he was made to fit your body.

“My God—” he hiccups and you press your forehead against his, seeking his lips with yours to silence you both, pushing him down until he's lying flat on the mattress.

The bunk just barely creaks beneath the relentless sway of your hips slamming into his, ass bumping hard down on his thighs, taking him all the way down and up again, so deep that every time you bottom out you feel him in your fucking throat.

“You feel so good, baby,” you whine, looking down at him and all of his body is reacting to the petname.

You take in the gorgeous sight that is his face flushed with utter pleasure, eyes squinting, sweaty arms wrapping all around you and holding you impossibly close, his lower belly tensed and cramped.

He looks so pussy drunk, drinking and drinking in your body and essence, everything you provide. The tought makes you feel your insides flip, squeezing into a knot. And Dae-ho feels it too.

You bend down, lips falling onto his shoulder, trailing down to the tattoo on his side and when your tongue traces the black ink, exactly when his engorged tip brushes against your fucking cervix and your ass does a particularly powerful bounce on his thick thighs, he starts to feel his body twitching, reaching that exquisite release. He begins to cum, wracked by a rush of erotic bliss that has him seeing stars in the pitch-black.

His hips begin to meet yours in mid-between your wild bouncing and your pussy squelches around his cock, ready to take in all he has to give.

“I'm cumming— hah— b-baby, where—” he babbles through breathy hiccups and whimpers, his body is flushing, seeking your gaze with half-closed eyes, his chest gasping fast.

You kiss his tattoo one more time before answering him, having the nerve to smirk, as if you aren't jumping his bones, “Inside— mhm— fill me up, Dae-ho,” your eyes finally meet his and you squish his biceps, “please,” you beg him, with tears on your eyes.

“Holy shit— you don't have to convince me, love” he growls out hoarsely, and you have never hear him insult so much in such a short span of time. He kiss the corner of your lips messily, “I'm so fucking deep, you take it so well, baby— fuck.”

He chokes on his own voice and squeezes your hips until his palms are molded into your flesh. His tip touches that special squishy spot inside you again and you're cumming with him, both of you riding your own high, sinking into each other's bodies, souls becoming one. Straight into the core of the storm of pleasure.

His trembling fingers eventually loosen his grip on your ass, but his imprint stays right there, flushed. His cock softens deep inside you and you can feel it still spurting hot ropes up into your womb. Dae-ho whimpers flush against your mouth, gasping for breath. And you know you might as well die right there, tangled with his body.

Your head is empty, blurry with him and only him, your hips keep rolling on their own motion, slower. Your pussy squelches, full of him, the friction only makes him chant your name over and over in raspy whispers, like a hymn. Your orgasm is rough and strong, rocking your body like an earthquake. It makes you moan his name and he cuts you off, kissing you senselessly.

“Thank you, thank you...” he mumbles repeatedly against your mouth, hissing once you stop all movement on top of him. And he kisses you again, appreciatively, lovingly.

Dae-ho throws his head back on the bunk, trying to catch his breath, his hands drop to your thighs, always with a possessive hold, groping around for your ass, pressed down on his trembling thighs.

And it's ridiculous how absolutely majestic he looks there under you, in an afterglow that has him breathless, eyes narrowed and lost stare, gazing upwards as if he's suspended in paradise. His entire abdomen is sweaty and you hold back the urge to run your tongue across his cute little tummy, since your body is slowly beginning to give in to exhaustion, your legs wobbling.

You are satisfied with tracing your fingers along his sweaty skin, touching what were strong muscles, now softened under your thumbprints. Your hand makes an appreciative path up his pecs and he comes back to reality with the touch, looking up at you and patting your ass lightly, his gaze softening as he met your eyes amidst the darkness. The look of love.

“Don't do that, I'm about to get hard again,” he murmurs in a playful voice, a little sheepish smile growing on his lips. He is blushing, like he's not balls deep inside you, his cum leaking out of your cunt and trickling down your thighs.

You let out a sleepy chuckle, leaning down and snuggling close into his chest, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he tugs a blanket over the two of you.

“I had to take you on a date first,” Dae-ho blurts out suddenly, sounding more like he's talking to himself than to you, but you do manage to hear him, yet not really understanding what he's trying to say.

“What?” you ask curiously, still a little dizzy, fingers tracing light caresses on his chest, right where his heart is.

He clears his voice, bowing his chin so he can look down at you, gaze full pure love and adoration, his fingertips soothingly caressing your spine as he answers you in a hushed whisper, “I was supposed to take you on a date before.... all of this.”

You smile bashfully against his chest, looking up at him with big, soft eyes, “Well, we're not exactly in a position where having a date is doable, Dae-ho.”

But he is confident on the subject, fingers drawing little circles on the small of your back, “After we get out of this, I'll pick you up at your house and take you to the fanciest restaurant.”

You kiss him tenderly.

And he smiles like he's actually in love.

“I'll be waiting for you in my best dress, then.”

#squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #squid game 2 #squid game #kang dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #kang dae-ho x reader #kang dae-ho #squid game smut #player 388 #player 388 x reader #dae ho x reader #dae ho squid game #squid game s2 #dae ho #cosmictheo #dae ho x you

378 notes · View notes

basicallyjeankirschtein · 4 hours ago

Text

lost and found - toji x reader x sukuna

chapter 5: new beginning

summary: definitely rushing, but you meet sukuna! (over text)

warnings: kys jokes, ooc sukuna (i’m sorry i had to make him sweet to reader), pov changes a lot

* writing in between pics if ur interested in context, if not, pics can be read standalone but may be a bit confusing (:

masterlist. prev. next.

you frowned at your phone, checking the time anxiously. where were gojo and geto? did they seriously ditch you again? how can two people collectively be so stupid to ditch you after promising to apologize for ditching you the first time-

you took a deep, anxious breath, trying to calm your nerves. they weren’t that stupid, where they?

well, they where. you were already tearing up, checking the time again. fifteen minutes late. you sighed to yourself, you should have more faith in them-

maybe call them? as you were about to click on getos contact, as he would be more likely to answer his call, you noticed a message from an unknown number. biting your lip anxiously, you texted back.

sukuna? could this night get any worse! he’s probably gonna beat you up next for even being associated with gojo- you were absolutely freaking out, closing the messages app before you could even think of a reply.

did you have read receipts on? you didn’t know. you were too scared to check.

you did infact have read receipts on, you noticed to your dismay. it took you ten minutes to get the courage to check.

not wanting to make sukuna mad at you, and get a face full of his fist, you decided to text back..

he.. just wanted to text? that was odd. definitely weird. he totally wanted something from you- maybe trying to get blackmail material- this was bad! the scariest guy on campus who just beat up your best friend- who should be your ex best friend- just wanted to text? this made no sense at all!

oh, he’s shokos friend! you never knew that! she never mentioned him, weird.

well, maybe you were too trusting, too friendly, because all it took for you to be convinced he didn’t want to ruin your life was that he was shokos friend. you probably should be scared of him, he definitely texted a bit dry which made you a bit uneasy, but he seemed pretty okay!

you hadn’t even noticed how long it’s been since your so called friends were supposed to arrive. they’re a half hour late.

sniffling to yourself, you went back to the groupchat. you didn’t know why leaving the chat made you think that would make them be here in an instant begging for forgiveness, but when it didn’t happen, it made you feel even worse. it didn’t make any sense- you knew of getos hatred towards gojo, so why now suddenly where they inseparable and avoiding everyone but each other? where you bound to always be the one left out?

in all of your friendships, you’ve always been the one pushed to the side. the one standing behind them while they walked together if the sidewalk was too small. even when you introduced shoko and utahime, in hopes you’d finally have an equal trio, they ended up dating. not that you cared, you were so happy for them, but what about for yourself? when will you be someone’s favorite person. they were all your best friends, but you were never their best friend.

was it selfish to make new friends, especially one that beat up your best friend and ruined his reputation? maybe. you didn’t know. but right now, you needed a ride, and your phone was dry and consisted of five contacts (two being your ex-friends and the fifth being sukuna).

taglist

@starmapz @corvid007 @estella-novella @zezedoesshit @beautifulwitchcandy @jinxiewritings @pixiedustaddictsblog @nightlysunn @nanamineedstherapy @lvingd3adg0rl @paradisestarfishh @yanelis-world @str4wb3rryc4k333 @indiewritesxoxo @havkjhdecs @tenthmilo @yunho-leeknow @polarbvnny @b0nez9 @etsuniiru

128 notes · View notes

gloomysoup · 2 days ago

Text

he's probably worried (not hiding anymore)

@steddiebingo christmas card prompt: secret relationship

rating: teen+ | word count: 717 | tags: post-s3, post- starcourt, coming out | ao3

The air is filled with red-orange flames and smoke as the mall burns to the ground in front of him. His head is still spinning, face throbbing, and he can barely breathe. The adrenaline is starting to fade, and Steve’s injuries are making themselves known. He stands side-by-side with Robin, neither of them saying a word. Everything has changed. Neither of them will ever be the same person they once were.

Steve has a fleeting thought that Eddie must be worried. It's gone just as soon as it was there when the paramedics are ushering them into the ambulance and taking them to the hospital.

Everything is a blur of sirens and lights, Robin’s hand in his, a shock blanket around his shoulders. Doctors and bright lights, wires and beeping machines. He gets set up in a room for monitoring. Robin is okay. The kids are okay. Everyone is okay.

Steve doesn't even register what's happening when the nurse says they're going to call his emergency contact. His brain still feels a little fuzzy, even if things are starting to become clearer.

Everyone is gathered in Steve’s room. Robin and Dustin are sitting at the end of the bed, on either side of his legs. Robin refuses to leave his side. Steve is thinking about Eddie again.

Steve is late for dinner. He's probably so worried.

There's heavy footsteps in the hallway, shoes squeaking on the linoleum. The door flies open, and a head of curls stumbles into the room. Eddie’s eyes find Steve’s quickly, wild and full of fear and concern. He quickly crosses the room, pulling Steve into a tight hug. The room falls silent around them.

“Christ, Steve, I was so worried about you,” Eddie whispers, his voice tight like he's trying not to cry. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I'm okay, promise. Just a little banged up, that's all.”

Eddie sucks in a very shaky breath, not letting go of Steve. “You're not allowed to scare me like that anymore, asshole. I can't handle it.”

“I'll do my best. How'd you even know I was here?”

Eddie pulls back, his hands resting on the sides of Steve’s face. “The hospital called Wayne.”

The door opens again, and there's Wayne. Steve notes that he looks tired, but the older man smiles when his gaze lands on Steve.

“Glad to see you're still kickin’, kid,” he says, the worry washing away from his face.

“Sorry, Wayne, can't get rid of me that easy,” Steve says with a grin that pulls at his cuts and bruises. Wayne barks a laugh at that, shaking his head.

“What the hell is going on?” Dustin says, finally finding his voice.

Eddie's eyes go wide as he suddenly seems to realize they are not alone in the room. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand with a smile and gives it a squeeze. Then he clears his throat and looks at Dustin.

"Wayne is my emergency contact,” he explains. “Has been for a little while now. I've, uh… kinda been staying with them from time to time.”

Dustin frowns, his eyebrows knit together. “But… why?”

Steve glances at Eddie, squeezing his hand again. He takes a deep breath. It's now or never. “Eddie is… my boyfriend.”

It's the first time he's said the words out loud. It's the first time they put an actual label on what they are, what they truly mean to each other. They've been boyfriends for a little while now, but they never actually talked about it. There was always so much sneaking around and secrets and keeping it under wraps. They were both scared.

Not anymore.

Steve isn't scared to hide Eddie away from his friends, from his family. The people who truly matter. Not when Eddie has never been scared of hiding him from Wayne, his family. He's done being scared, because he knows there's so many scarier things out there. He knows that monsters are real, and he knows it'll take a lot more than a boyfriend to run off his monster hunting family.

So he smiles at Eddie, and he calls him boyfriend. Because that's what he is. He's Steve’s boyfriend, and he loves him.

He's done keeping that a secret from the people who have always had his back, despite what they've been through.

#gloomysoup #gloomysoup ao3 #gloomysoup writes #steddiebingo2025 #steddiebingo12daysofchristmas #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #wayne munson #dustin henderson

124 notes · View notes

makeitmakesomesense · 11 hours ago

Text

Starry Night

Natasha Romanoff x Jealous!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Day 10: I've merged a very fun request from a lovely anon with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 10th of January, which is 'religion'.

Your linked hands swung absentmindedly in the space between you.

Natasha’s head tilted as she observed the painting.

After a moment, you felt her attention inevitably turn back to you. You tried to focus on the brushstrokes, the colours, something. At least this one wasn’t about religion.

‘What do you think?’ She prompted.

‘I like the stars.’ You said carefully.

Natasha’s lip twitched.

‘That’s good. Given it’s A Starry Night.’ She rasped dryly.

You nodded, pretending to keep staring at the painting. Natasha brought your hand to her lips and held it there for a moment.

Your focus turned readily to her. It was much more enjoyable anyway, watching her look at the paintings.

‘What do you think?’

Natasha glanced back at you. Her eyes crinkled with a more hesitant smile.

‘I love it.’ She admitted.

You leaned forward and kissed her cheek, ignoring the bustling crowds of tourists around you.

You stayed together, lost in the tiny moment, until a short woman elbowed her way in front of you to take a photo of the painting.

Natasha’s eyes were full of mirth as she pulled you back to the centre of the room. Her arms snaked around your waist as she stood behind you.

‘What do you want to look at next?’ She asked softly, her head resting on your shoulder.

You chewed your lip and tried to decide. The paintings all looked the same to you.

This trip was already perfect without the art. It had been Natasha’s idea. A tentative gift for your one year anniversary. A long weekend spent in Paris.

It was strange to live, for even the briefest of moments, as if you weren’t part of the Avengers team. Your life had become something unrecognisable in the time that you’d been part of it.

Now, here in Paris, you’d never seen Natasha so relaxed, so completely herself.

The very first evening, she’d disappeared out of the apartment almost as soon as you’d set your luggage down. She’d returned within minutes, holding all the components for a charcuterie board and a bottle of ridiculously expensive wine.

You’d wanted to unpack and get organised after the long flight but Natasha had insisted that you join her on the balcony. You’d sat together for hours, sharing food and drink and staring out at a nighttime view that didn’t seem real.

You’d understood the magic then. Slow kisses that heated the chilled night air. The sparkling lights of the city reflected back in Natasha’s eyes.

Nothing in any gallery could beat that.

‘You choose.’ You told Natasha, leaning back in her arms as you surveyed the gallery room. ‘I always like your choices best anyway.’

Natasha hummed to herself, trying to decide. You let yourself focus only on her. The constant thrum of people wandering around the room created an almost overwhelming level of background noise.

At last, Natasha nodded over to another painting, one with two women watching each other in bed.

You smiled before you could help it, remembering that morning.

‘Okay.’ You agreed.

Suddenly, you felt Natasha stiffen behind you. Then, after a moment, you felt her purposefully relax. You were immediately on high alert. You scanned the room with a new intention, trying your best to identify any threat.

Your attention caught immediately on a woman across the room. Her stare was entirely focused on your girlfriend.

‘Is everything okay?’ You asked tensely, staring at the woman whose focus refused to flicker from Natasha’s face.

Natasha moved easily from behind you to by your side. She looked distracted but her smile was reassuring.

‘Yes.’ She promised. ‘I know her. Let me go say hello.’

You watched her walk away from you over to the strange woman. The beautiful Parisian woman. The upsettingly beautiful Parisian woman.

You watched Natasha kiss her cheeks and hug her. You watched their obvious delight at reconnecting. You watched the disgustingly beautiful Parisian woman reach up to touch a piece of Natasha’s hair, you watched her mouth form a comment about its new length and colour. You watched Natasha smile shyly.

You felt small and then you felt angry. You felt an instinct lock your body in place.

It took a minute for Natasha to look over to you. She took a few steps back in your direction, not quite closing the distance.

‘There’s this wine.’ She started, clearly excited. ‘I’ve been looking for it all weekend. Elodie knows this place that sells it. It’s right around the corner’

You kept your expression neutral. You hated that Elodie was obviously looking over at you.

‘Do you mind if we-?’ Natasha trailed off, gesturing between herself and the woman who you were going to make a voodoo doll of later.

You nodded, throat tight.

Natasha kissed your cheek.

‘Stay, enjoy the art. I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone.’ She promised, an excited glint in her eye.

You watched Natasha’s hand brush Elodie’s back as they walked out together.

When you were finally alone in a sea of strangers, you let the feelings wash over you in quick succession.

Jealousy. Hurt. Anger.

Your fingernails dug into your palm as the feelings simmered.

Who the fuck was Elodie?

You walked blindly past the remaining masterpieces and headed for the exit.

Natasha caught a hold of you in the foyer. She looked startled to see you there.

She nodded back to the endless gallery rooms and gave you a curious smile.

‘Have you seen it all already?’ She teased lightly.

‘Mmhm’ You hummed tightly. ‘Let’s go back to the apartment.’

Your sharp tone set off the first alarm bells. You watched the realisation dawn on Natasha’s face, the slight widening of her eyes.

You didn’t give her a chance to speak. You walked out the building and headed towards your apartment.

Natasha kept pace at your side. You could feel her nervous glances towards you. Her hesitating indecision to say something.

Something about your stony expression kept her quiet.

By the time you’d reached the apartment, after climbing the endless winding staircase inside the building’s courtyard, the unspoken tension was almost at a boiling point.

Natasha’s tote bag clinked occasionally as her new purchase bumped against her keys. Your jaw tightened every time you heard it.

You opened the door and walked straight to the kitchenette. Natasha followed cautiously behind you.

It occurred to you then that you’d never had a proper fight before. Never had a reason to be really angry. More than a year had gone by in relative peace.

Until Elodie.

You opened the fridge door violently and pulled out the ingredients for lunch automatically.

You could feel Natasha hovering in your blind spot.

You hooked a dining chair with your foot and pulled it out from the table.

‘Sit.’ You directed tightly. ‘I’ll make us some lunch.’

Natasha sat with the obedience of a hostage victim.

You arranged the jars of beurre de cacahuètes and confiture next to the wooden chopping board and placed the bread that Natasha had bought fresh that morning on top of it. You yanked open the cutlery drawer and retrieved the large bread knife.

You felt Natasha wince behind you. You ignored her as you started sawing at the bread.

‘So.’ You said loudly. ‘How do you know Elodie?’

Natasha’s hesitation this time was blatant.

‘Uh.’ You heard her stall for time. You sawed quickly through your first slice and tossed it onto the waiting plate. ‘From a long time ago.’

‘Mmhm.’ You hummed again, eyes trained on the moving knife. ‘And you knew each other well.’

You didn’t frame it as a question but Natasha answered anyway.

‘...Yes.’

‘Very well.’ You said under your breath, tossing another brutalised slice of bread onto the plate.

‘...Yes.’ Natasha said with obvious alarm as you began to hack at the loaf again.

‘Lucky Elodie.’ You muttered bitterly. ‘I bet you’ve got wonderful memories of Paris together. Did you drink that wine on a balcony with her? What sort of name is Elodie anyway? I mean that’s practically too French. I mean come on. It’s like a Russian girl being called-’

‘Natasha.’ Natasha supplied.

You kept moving your knife thoughtlessly.

‘Exactly. Whatever.’ You cut yourself off into abrupt silence as you stewed internally on things you really shouldn’t say aloud.

‘Y/N.’ Natasha called out carefully.

‘What?’ You snapped.

‘Love. You’re sawing the chopping board in half.’ You froze and stared down at the small pile of sawdust mixing with the breadcrumbs. You yanked the knife abruptly out of the wooden board and placed it down on top of it. You stared for a long moment at the counter. You couldn’t escape the truth of it. The fear that ached behind everything.

‘Did you take her to see those paintings before?’ You asked at last in a small voice. ‘Before me?’

‘Love.’ Natasha said quietly again in a low voice that always made your insides go warm. You heard her move closer and felt her arms wrap around you, tentatively. You let your back press against her.

‘Before you.’ She murmured slowly, and you felt each word vibrate through you. ‘I know it’s not that simple. But before you nothing really mattered.’

Her lips touched your neck and you let your eyes close. You thought about her and you. About the 400 nights you’d spent together. About the sleepy mornings and the date nights and the future plans.

You thought about the painting you’d seen of the two women watching each other in bed.

‘Before you.’ Natasha whispered again. ‘There was art and good food and fancy wine.’ Natasha’s hand trailed lightly down your front and the back up. Your head tilted back and Natasha dragged her finger along your exposed neck.

You thought about the starry night reflected back to you in Natasha’s eyes.

Your body shuddered as Natasha’s fingernails tapped gently over your trachea.

All you could hear were her soft breaths and your shallow ones. ‘Before you. I wasn’t me.’

. .

Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you

100 notes · View notes

almostmylove · 1 day ago

Text

SNEAK PEEK(wip) not sure if should continue it.

A binding ring

Part 1

Damien Wayne x reader

Synopsis: after Damien leaves most of his life in the assassin league he forgets one thing, his fiancée, you.

Warning: my spelling is bad and English is not my first language. Unrequired love.( I’m trying to improve my writing)

Damien Wayne was many things. a son, a brother, demon assassin, robin and even an enemy but to you , he was your fiancée and your love.

You two had known each other since birth and you attribute that to the fact that your mother and Talia had been “pregnant” about the same time and due to…surcomstance ,you to were promised to each other.

Grow up as his fiancee was tough due to the training that was mandated from both sides of the family to be able to qualified to be with him. You cuddled up to his mother pretty quickly, seeing her as a aunt and it seemed that she liked you too even tho she could be cold when she wanted to.

Damien on the other hand ,He didn’t like you so much, he really didn’t and you were fine with that since love in the legue was a seen a weakness but there was one problem.

You loved damien.

You loved him more than anything in the world. You didn’t know it was because of his skill, position or even personality but you just love him.

When you were young you would follow him around everywhere like a lost puppy and many times it would annoy him to the point were he would yell at you or even fight you.

The bruises, the endless silent cries didn’t stop you, you were ready to follow him to the moon and back if successor you had to so Image your surprise when Damien, the future leader of the legue of the assassins didn’t come back with his mother after rah al ghul had been murder by slade.

You were confused. Maybe a little heart broken that he left you behind but you were a romantic ( something he never understood ) so You asked around. No matter how hard you tried the only answer you got was “ it’s not your business” or “ go ask Talia , she’s the one who knows” and you did.

You were sure she wasn’t going to say anything so why in the hell were you outside of the Wayne mansion!

You stare at the white double doors, taking a minute to take everything in. The mansion was beautiful, with a magnificent garden right behind you and the way the soft yellowish night lights lit up the trees and surrounding area was the piniful of rich money( tho it wasn’t anything that was out of your league) it still managed to amaze you.

You knock on the door, your knuckles white with strain as the sudden quietness fills your ears, waiting for someone, something to fill the blank space.

You stand there awkwardly until you hear the soft and turn of the golden handle. Quickly you straight your outfit which was personal picked by Talia, a white almost dress like with golden accents that looks like it was made for a goddess( your hair accessories in a similar way).

The door opens and your are surprised to see an old man? Maybe a butler base of his clothing, that is now looking at you curiously with a prominate eyebrow raised.

Before you can say anything he speaks up first with proper but heavy British accent.

“ good evening young miss, what may I help you with this fine evening? He enquires , staring down at you . It’s only there when you realize how small you are compared to the aged butler.

You clear your throat. “ I’m looking for Damien Al ghul? Is he around here?” You shift to either side of your feet, your gaze pushing past the side of the butler and onto the hallway behind him trying to peak to see a glimpse of him.

Your vision is interrupted by the door sliding to side which makes you look up at the figure was standing in the way. It seems like the butler had no plans in letting you in . You had to find a way to let him in?( maybe by telling him your relationship with Damien?)

“ excuse me miss?” His voice interrupted your thoughts. “ but I’m curious. Who are you? And why have you come to find master Damien ?”

Perfect!

You stand up straight, lifting your head and the sides of your dress before showing curtíos bow. “ my name is [ name][last name] , i come from one of the branching clans of the league of assassins and current finance of Damien al ghul”

Perfect! You nailed your introduction! You high-fived yourself mentally and by the look of surprise on the butler face it seems he agreed too.

With any other greeting you would try to mask were you came from but Talia had already told you much about them including their nightly activities so it was only fair if they knew too. Worst case scenario the butler would know nothing about the league of assasins and would think you were crazy. Yet it seemed your speculation was right.

“ Damien’s fiancée you say.” The speculation and suspicion in his tone of voice was expected but hearing those words from him was a joy, it was an acknowledgement of your statues with Damien and your future.

“ why don’t we discuss this over tea” he offered, a slight smile on his wrinkled face.

“ of course, I would love to” a bit surprised by his offer but you would never decline an opportunity to talk about him

Carefully he guides you inside , never leaving your side and showing a small tour.

“ what’s your name good sir?”

He chuckled slightly before answer “ you can call me Alfred”

“ so you like tea right? What’s your favorite type”

“ I have quite the pallet for black tea.”

“Quite sophisticated I must say, a classic”

Say miss [name] have you tried cucumber sandwiches ?

“ I don’t think so? Are they good?”

“ i personally like them but you’ll have to try them yourself”

“I’m looking forward to it!”

The soft hum on the car engine runs thru the walls of the enclosure vehicle, only helping to fill the tense awkward atmosphere.

It wasn’t too often where the whole family is in the bat mobile after a mission. It was awkward and everyone knew it, Being crapped in a car that mainly only seated 2 people ( 4 max).

Jason sighs. His face facing the side window, a way of not facing anyone he didn’t want to talk to. Dick in the other hand tried to make conversation with just about anyone, talking about the mission they just completed.

It had been a while since he come to Gotham from blodhaven. He told them is was for a mission that lead him here but being honest he just wanted to check up on his family.

Jason on the other hand wanted nothing to do with them. It was purely by accident that he stumbled onto the battle and (hesitantly) decided to help and here he was now.

Tim as silent as ever, concentrated on something in his tablet.

Damien and Bruce where still aloof as ever, showing no other expression that doesn’t show how though they are.

The car ride was silent until a ring shined , shining on the center screen. The name displayed [alfred] caught the attention of almost everyone in the car.

“ answer” Bruce command with a low and smooth voice.

Damien looked away in disinterest in whatever the butler had to say, the car ride was going to be quick!so couldn’t it had waited.

“ what is it Alfred” he waited for the butler to answer, while keeping his eyes on the road as he took a sharp turn. Dick in the back saying a quick hi to Alfred that didn’t go unnoticed.

“ we have company “ he says, his thick accent turning and moving in cursive.

“ who is it Alfred? Just send them away until tomorrow. ” he commands dismissive

Alfred on the side of the screen , clears his throat as if preparing for the next sentence.

“ I can’t master Bruce. It’s an important acquaintances of master Damien”. Damien who was solum and disinterested now has straighter up , now having his ears perked up with a questionable look.

“ what do you mean Alfred? Tell who it is?” His voice is high pitch and reaping with answers? Who’s would visit him at this time and what did they need.

Dick who was listening in shimes in with excitement. “ a friend of Damien’s? I would like to meet them!” He says with a bright smile that is almost blinding.

“ Damien? Friends? That’s a first.” He chuckles mockingly.

The short boy in the front seat scouls, ready to bite back but stops short at the voice of his father.

“Quite.” He glares to the people in the back seat before turning his attention back up front l”Alfred we will be there in five”

“ right at it. Dinner should be ready by then Il see you until then” the old man mentions before hanging up the call.

Once the beep of the call ended question filled the car, mostly directed towards the boy. Not knowing the answers he stayed quiet only answering in a “ we will see soon enough” before turning his head back to the window. The tapping of his gloved fingers on his thighs didn’t go unnoticed by his brooding father.

Closing into the bat-cave , past the hidden sewer and into the long futuristic tunnel everyone held their breath. Specifically Damien who now was more curious then before.

The car raced foward finally landing on a rotating piece that spun them around, their back faced away from the entrance before they could see anything.

Everyone off loads from the car, the first one being Damien. You watch from above the railing in the batcave as he gets out looking around curiously for anyone and taking the opportunity you pounce on him before his vision darts upwards making both of you land on the ground.( him accidentally cusenishg you fall)

83 notes · View notes

otomiyaa · 16 hours ago

Text

Viktor's Secret

Jayce x Viktor

A/N: Playful interrogation won the poll so that's what you're getting 🤭 Love these two.

Summary: Jayce discovers Viktor is hiding something for him and has his ways of making him speak. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.6K

It was quite uncommon and almost felt... wrong. Jayce noted the silence between Viktor and him as they both sat at the dinner table.

They were not working. They were not experimenting. It was the middle of the day and they were not even in their lab. It felt uneasy to not be invested in work for such a while. But they kind of had no choice.

Jayce's mother practically dragged them here for a lunch to celebrate his birthday. Which was actually three days ago. She didn't want just Jayce, she wanted it to be the both of them, and today at last she managed to get them out of the lab for this promised celebration.

"She cooks well," Viktor said. They both stared at their empty plates as they sat next to each other.

Ximena insisted they should wait here while she went out to get their surprise dessert, which resulted in them sitting here quite awkwardly since it would be rude to ignore her request after such a feast.

Even if they wanted, they couldn't leave now, so they were just two workaholic scientists sitting here quietly. It felt unnatural to say the least.

"Yes. It was delicious," Jayce agreed. He felt guilty towards his mother. Despite her hard work to make them 'relax' and have a good meal for once, his mind was still focused too much on their research and the pressure from not only the council but all of Piltover.

It wasn't just his own desire and his own expectations now, but other people relying on them as well. It was an added pressure that had both good and bad effects on their work.

"It really was delicious," Viktor replied again. As chatty as they were in the lab, they didn't have much to say now.

Jayce had actually missed most of the conversations with his mother while they were eating and he had nodded absentmindedly and said "yes" every once in a while. Right now, he also didn't want to bring up anything research-related, because it'd make their skins itch to rush back to the lab to make notes.

However he recalled something he did pick up during his mother's conversation with Viktor, and he remembered he should ask his partner about it. It was a conversation topic at least.

"Viktor, you know my mother quite well by now."

Viktor munched on some leftovers and he nodded. "I do."

"When she spoke about my... uh..." Jayce blushed. "...past inventions," he mumbled.

Viktor hummed in understanding. "What about it?"

"It felt like I was missing out on something. The way you reacted and when she winked at you.... Uh... Is there something I don't know of? Have you been gossiping about me?"

Jayce noted the change in Viktor's expression as soon as he said that. Ha! He knew it, he was hiding something. This already confirmed it.

"What do you mean?" Viktor asked in an innocent tone Jayce didn't buy at all.

"We've spoken about your... childhood aspirations before. They were funny. Sweet. You know I liked hearing those stories," Viktor said.

Jayce couldn't explain it in words if he were to be asked - but he was 100% sure Viktor was lying.

"I think you're not telling me everything. Did you visit my mother behind my back to hear more of my embarrassing stories?"

"Not at all, Jayce. Why would I even do that, I don't have the time- hehey!" Viktor jolted when Jayce reached under the table where he could reach his partner's good leg very well. The perfect angle for a good tickle on his knee!

"JAyce, no!" Viktor warned, but Jayce made a claw of his hand and tickled his knee playfully. It was a tickle spot he was happy to discover not long ago. He hadn't made advantage of it again since his discovery, so now was the perfect chance.

"D-don't!" Viktor squirmed in his chair and hastily reached for his cane, but Jayce grabbed his arm and started to tickle his side instead.

"What were you going to do with that, huh? Hit me with it? If you don't want me to tickle you, maybe you could just tell me the truth? Or should I ask my mother? When I discover you've been lying to me, I'm sure I won't tickle you this nicely," Jayce taunted.

"Nihicely?! Ahhah s-she won't tehell ahanyway- hah!" Viktor giggled adorably as he squirmed and twisted to avoid Jayce's tickly finges, to no avail. He sat in an uncomfortable position between his chair and the table with Jayce attacking his delicate tickle spots from the side, there wasn't that much he could do about it.

"She won't tell, huh? So you agree, there's something you're hiding from me."

Even though it wasn't the full truth yet, Jayce couldn't help but feel a little pride. From the very little signs and information he had figured that Viktor was hiding something. A little secret. Oh Viktor. Jayce knew him all too well.

"Jahayce! You behetter s-stop ihit!" Viktor gasped when Jayce wiggled his fingers from his sides to his stomach.

"Then you better spill it."

"Noho- I prohomised, ahhaha!"

Jayce raised his eyebrows and smiled fondly. Well, whatever little secret promise Jayce had with his mother, he was now determined to tickle it out of him before she'd return, and he poured all of his focus into it, so much that he promptly forgot to think about Hextech for the first time in a long while.

All that mattered now was Viktor and that sweet, jolly laugh he was sharing.

"You're beheing so unfahair!" Viktor whined. When he tried to get up from his chair, Jayce simply grabbed him and together they stumbled to the floor where Jayce towered over him and kept up the playful tickle attack.

"Me? You're being unfair. We shouldn't be hiding secrets from each other, partner. Worse, you're involving my mother. So tell me, what did she say about me? I'm sure it can't be anything I do not know of."

Up until now Jayce had no idea what could be so secretive that Viktor would get tickled to the floor for it, but it didn't matter. Viktor was in fact laughing a lot right now, and that was actually what mattered more. Jayce treasured that laugh. He loved it. It was a sound he could only hear if he tickled Viktor.

And well, in moments like this when Viktor would present him a free excuse to tickle him on a silver platter, Jayce was pleased to accept it with both hands, with all ten fingers!

"Thehere's nohothing to sahay!"

Viktor once again tried to reach for his cane which had fallen during their struggle, and Jayce responded by grabbing his arm and pinning it above his head. With his free hand he tickled Viktor under his arm. Very good, very ticklish. Ten out of ten.

"AHhh Jahahayce! You'll pahay for thihiis!" Viktor cried defiantly. Jayce cocked his head.

"Really now? And how so?"

Viktor couldn't really answer that. Jayce continued tickling him but he also took note of his movements and made sure not to hurt him or be to rough. He quickly let go of his arm and dug his fingers into both his sides again. But despite laughing a lot, Viktor still wouldn't tell him.

In the end, Jayce thought he shouldn't overdo it if Viktor really was this reluctant to talk, so he tickled him until he was reduced to lovely pile of quiet breathless giggles, and then called it quits.

"You're really persistent. Admirable," Jayce complimented when both of them were tired. They lay on the floor, Viktor halfway under the dinner table with his hand on his stomach as he caught his breath. Jayce was panting as well.

Then to his surprise, Viktor suddenly started talking. "Your mother... She gave me some of your notebooks. That's all."

Jayce raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Experiments from when you were very young, Jayce. She thought I would like them. And I do."

The tickling had stopped, and he was spilling it now! What! Blushing at this new information, Jayce poked Viktor's side. "But I don't," he whined.

Viktor chuckled and rubbed his side. "She knows. That's why she said it's our secret. We didn't want to embarrass you. That was not the intention."

Pffft. That was actually adorable. It was such an innocent secret in the end. Did Viktor really accept all that tickling, just for that?

Jayce wanted to ask more about it. What notes? What did he like? Were they good, even though Jayce was still a child? Did he laugh at them? When did his mother share them, and why? Where did Viktor keep those notebooks?

But then the door opened and they were no long alone. "I'm back!"

Ximena didn't ask what they were doing on the floor. They both got up and made impressed "ah!" sounds when they saw the birthday cake she had brought.

"I wanted it to be as fresh as possible. So, are you ready for dessert?"

Jayce and Viktor exchanged glances and Jayce caught himself blushing a bit.

"Y-yeah, definitely!"

They both took seat again and were given a big piece of cake, and Jayce noticed that during dessert, he could enjoy this family moment a lot more. He was no longer distracted and haunted by thoughts about work, and he actually took part in the conversation.

And besides, now that it wasn't a secret anymore, he thought he should let his mother spill it as well.

"So, mom. I heard you shared my old notebooks with Viktor, hm? I want you to tell me all about it."

#arcane #jayvik #jayce x viktor #tickling #tickle fic #otomiya!writes #lee!viktor #ler!jayce

71 notes · View notes

amorchai · 1 day ago

Text

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐃 ─ j.m

────────────

⭑ ttpd collection!

pairing(s): jj maybank x kook!female!reader

summary: two people who start off on bad terms but find themselves irresistibly drawn to each other, eventually overcoming their initial animosity.

words: 2108

warnings/tags: female!reader, kook!reader, violence, mentions of jj’s alcoholic dad, cigarette use, r goes to gym but does not imply their figure in the slightest! this based off s1/s2 jj so no spoilers included.

────────────

“are you kidding? you would date y/n given the chance?” jj furrows his eyebrows and lets out an exasperated laugh at pope’s confession, what was originally a conversation where they say who they find attractive in outer banks.

pope looks just as confused from the opposing side, “one hundred percent, have you seen y/n?”. jj sits up off the sand, dusting off his hair as he responds, “she’s a kook! we don’t mix with kooks, pope.”

“i was just saying she was pretty, you didn’t need to-”

“a person could look like thor for all i care, but if they’re a kook nothing’s happening, i’m not fraternising with the enemy,” jj interrupts his friends mumbling from beside him and jj turns to look away from the water and to his friend hiding his face underneath a baseball cap in order to keep the sun at bay.

when pope doesn’t respond, jj tips the bill of the cap to look at him properly, “you hear me?” pope smacks the pointed finger jj has aimed, he can see in his peripheral vision that john b, sarah, and kiara are returning with the coolers as promised.

“all i heard was you implying that you find the god of thunder attractive.”

jj shakes his head, ignoring pope and greeting the returning group, “why did you two get to chill while we lugged all this down?” kiara groans while they drop the boxes as both boys look curiously into the coolers.

“i’m excited for tonight,” says sarah, tucking under john b’s arm while they join the boys on the sand. jj grunts, laying back down and tipping his sunglasses over his aching eyes, “it’s gonna be kook central.”

pope nudges him, nodding towards sarah and jj shrugs, “what? it is…”

the group had planned a couple extra hours on the beach before the party arrived, sitting with cold drinks and the last of the rays as the sun set the mood. jj wasn’t going to go, bail for it before people arrived but kiara already lectured him on doing so.

and before jj knew it, the space was full of bustling teenagers and music blaring through speakers. now and again, crowds came and went, each member of the group went to refill drinks or talk to someone but jj stayed put, staring at the now blistering fire keeping him warm, sunglasses perched atop his blonde strands.

his eyes were closed, elbows keeping him up as he lets his head drop back to face the sky. he had been extra put out from his dads drunken antics recently, unsure the last time he set eyes on his dad sober so it was nice having these moments of serenity.

but his peace was quickly ruined by pope’s, “oh god.” jj opens his eyes, looking at his friend, “what?” but pope is staring behind jj and when he follows his gaze it lands on you.

jj knew pope was right from earlier, he had eyes. but he wish he didn’t think just how pretty you looked in that moment. pope audibly gulps as you approach with sarah’s arm linking through yours, laughing bubbling between you both.

he sits up fully, taking a swig of his drink when your eyes fall upon his and your smile drops, “oh.” everyone in the group looks to jj who glances up and down your frame, fighting it off with a quick, “i’m not thrilled either.”

“’not thrilled’ is a nice way to put it, maybank.”

jj’s lips threaten to quip a smile but he just nods while holding his stoic expression, “why are you over here? saw more people having a nice time and though to come ruin it?” he ignores john b and sarah’s cautious gaze as you shake your head dismissively at his reply.

“i’ll catch up with you later, sarah,” you tap her arm, waving bye to the others, a now sweating-pope pathetically replying, ‘nice to see you!’

jj knew it was coming, but still flinches when sarah smacks his arm, “okay, my brother i get but y/n? you can’t just be rude for the sake of it, jj.” he only shrugs, fumbling a cigarette between his lips.

however, before he can even flick open his lighter and inhale the puff of smoke, an all-too-familiar voice cuts in, as if hearing sarah mentioning him and spawning from nowhere, “well, look what the shore dragged in.”

he’s accompanied with a few friends, drink in hand and hair tousled. sarah sighs, moving away from jj and sitting next to john b who looks from his friend and to rafe, “leave us, man.”

“where’s the fun in that? am i not allowed to talk to my sister?” rafe’s voice is teasing, and jj can feel his blood already boiling so he quickly lights his cigarette. this time sarah perks up, “go away, rafe.”

“hey jj,” rafe says after jj exhales a long puff of smoke, he refuses to look, to interact. because whenever he does, his friends get annoyed at him. but rafe continues, “i saw your dad the other day.”

the air thickens, jj pulling the cigarette between his fingers while glancing at the kook, his eyes angry and sending warning signals. he hasn’t seen his dad in over a week, so he can only imagine what rafe will have seen.

with this comment, you appear. jj watches as you grab rafe’s arm and attempt to tug him away, sarah standing up to grab his other arm. “i was passing the liquor store and saw the cashier running after some deadbeat alcoholic with as many bottles of alcohol he could hold.”

he laughs, his friends joining in and jj shrugs off kiara’s hand upon his shoulder as john b continuously says, ‘drop it.’ rafe is staring into jj’s soul and while he knows he just wants a reaction from the pogue, jj is more than happy to give him that satisfaction.

“i’ve never seen such a lost cause in my life. like father like son, am i right?”

jj stands, but before he can make a run to the kook, you suddenly slap rafe across the face and the now forming crowd gasp, rafe turning to look at you, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“we could all say a lot about your father – i’m sorry sarah – but we don’t!” your words enrage rafe who shoves your hand from his arm and pope and john b now stand up. “you’re pathetic! you’re always trying to push their buttons, let it go! you’re obsessed with them!”

in a flash, both jj’s friends are holding rafe back as he attempts to jump forward, but jj is staring at you in shock. rafe and his friends are pulled to the side, arguing with john b and pope while kiara asks jj if he’s okay.

“yeah.” you’re staring at each other, your gaze small under his as he’s confused what to say or do in that moment. “i’m sorry, sarah,” you repeat, more firmly and meaningful as the blonde shakes her head dismissively, “he was out of line, i get it.”

words are lodged in his throat. sure, his friends cared for him but he’s never experienced anything like that. anyone defending him the way you did, and despite the shouting from rafe at the other side, jj can’t break his gaze from yours.

but then you turn, quickly walking away. and before he can move, you’re collecting your bag from the ground and running off.

somehow, the following day, john b convinces jj to go to the gym. he stares at the building through tired, sleepless eyes. he would rather be surfing at the beach but his pogue friend insisted on working the machines together so he reluctantly follows.

when he picked jj up, the boy was quick to dismiss the ‘you okay, man?’ comment with a quick nod and change of subject. but all he kept going back to was you. he was confused not only by your actions but his feelings.

the whole night he didn’t sleep, replaying the scenario in his head. a kook would never defend a pogue like that, except sarah. but you, who bickered with jj anytime you were in the same vicinity, was the first to defend him the moment rafe mentioned his dad.

he can picture you in that moment, the constant image of your facial features usually calm now fuelled with anger as you responded to the most wasteful piece of kook jj had ever interacted with.

you were pretty.

“four sets each?” john b asks, resting his water to the side, while sitting on one of the machines, and jj nods unamused, standing beside the machine until his friend finishes his first set.

however, his eyes wander, john b’s outward counting slowly dissipating in jj’s focus as he hears a familiar voice. you’re standing with a friend, laughing and talking in gym gear. you must have finished working out, jj thinks, shoulder shining with some sweat and you were panting slightly.

“jj?” he’s snapped out his trance and turns back to john b who laughs, “i said, same weight?” and jj nods, forcing himself to switch with him and do a set of his own. when his set finishes he stares again, and again after the next, then again when they move machine.

“you look like a creep in the gym staring at her,” says john b, using the bicep curl, “oh wait, you are.” you’re still talking to your friend and jj doesn’t tear his eyes from you as he tells his friend to shut up.

once jj finishes his next set he’s taking in your frame, hardly moving out of the way for john b to use the machine who rolls his eyes and mutters, “down bad.” all it took was a girl he previously declared enemies to defend him and jj was immediately head over heels.

“let’s go to this machine, and you go first,” john b suggests, leading them to a machine away from you so jj can focus for a moment. once jj starts working out, john b is tutting, “you know, pope would kill you if he found out.”

but jj who is pulling faces during his shoulder press huffs out a quick, “found out what?” but the other pogue just lets out a small, “oh no,” while jj finishes his set. “what?” he asks confused but john b is glancing to the side before letting out a happy, “hey, y/n.”

jj stands quickly, squeezing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose while his back is facing you as you greet john b before he turns around with a quick, “hey.” your eyebrows flicker, looking towards him, this time instead of mutual friction, it’s a nice, friendly gaze.

“hi, jj.” you respond, somehow shyly. which jj doesn’t understand since he saw you shouting last night at rafe. john b is watching you both through side glances and before jj can talk you are, “listen, about last night-”

before you can continue, he interjects, “no, uh- thanks for what you did, i guess. i could’ve just punched him but you got a hell of a slap on you.” it’s the first time jj has been nice to you and you smile slightly, “well, he deserved it.”

you bid goodbye and start to head towards the exit, john b thinks nothing of it, turning back to the machine and starting his set. jj watches as you continue walking and before he knows it he’s running in that direction, “c’mon!” he can hear john b exasperated statement.

you turn at the thudding of his feet and eyes widen as you stop walking, turning around to face him, “jj?” he’s smiling, head tilted slightly as he tries to find the words he needs, “can i take you out for dinner sometime?”

“dinner?” you ask, a hint of a smile threatening the corners of your lips as you stare up at the blonde boy, who smugly shrugs, “you know, as a thank you. for being my hero.”

it’s teasing, back to the jj you know, except it’s not laced with rudeness but flirty notes. “as a thank you…” you trail off knowingly, this time smiling as you finish with a quick, “sure. you can get my number from sarah.”

john b watches the interaction and a smug jj jogging back over while you walk out the gym. he shakes his head knowingly, “pope will kill you.” jj sits on the vacant machine aside john b now awaiting his next set as he only shrugs, “i don’t care.”

────────────

amorchai masterlist . taglist

#➵ amorchai works ౨ৎ #outer banks ⁑ ꒰ა jj maybank ໒꒱#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx season 4 #jj obx #jj x reader #obx fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #obx4 #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks fanfiction

67 notes · View notes

sasheemo · 2 days ago

Text

When We Collide

Chapter 14

Chapter Summary: You wake to Agatha's unsettling yet impossibly grounding presence, unspoken questions threatening to unravel a fragile moment. And just like that, walls begin to crack.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N (very long, sorryyy): I still can’t believe it, but here we are. After exactly one month since the last chapter was published, I’m officially back! I can’t promise the creative block I’ve been struggling with for When We Collide is completely gone, but I’m really trying, and I’m so happy to continue this story.

Before you dive in, I just want to take a moment to make a small dedication:

Over the past week, I’ve received an overwhelming amount of love and support that I never expected. Moots, strangers, and even anonymous readers stepped forward in the comments of my update posts on Tumblr or slid into my DMs to show their appreciation and encouragement. You know who you are. It’s because of all of you that, in just over 24 hours, I managed to write an entire chapter after being stuck for a whole month. You gave me an incredible boost of energy and motivation. So, this chapter is for you. To my moots, followers, and each dedicated reader of When We Collide. To everyone who messaged me privately or left a comment on a post or a fic. To those who, even without reaching out directly, have always supported me with their thoughts and good vibes, waiting patiently for an update and never abandoning this story. What you’ve done, and continue to do, for me is amazing. You’ve filled me with so much love and support, and I truly hope this chapter (and the ones to come—yes, they’re coming, hehe) can serve as a proper thank-you.

It’s true that writing should primarily be for yourself, but when you receive this kind of support and encouragement, it becomes something truly special to write for others too.

Let me know what you think of the chapter, and thank you from the bottom of my heart! 💜

PS: Spoiler—I literally felt my heart break while writing a certain piece of dialogue. Had to pause, pick up the pieces, and keep going. Sorry y’all, I couldn’t resist 💔

Chapter Index

Read on AO3

You stir awake to the faint glow of the early afternoon, the light filtering softly through the edges of the curtains. For a brief, suspended moment, your mind lingers in the haze of sleep, the kind where nothing feels quite real, and you’re not entirely sure where you are. Then the weight registers.

The warm, undeniable weight of someone pressed against you.

Your breath catches, your body locking in place as you become acutely, painfully aware of Agatha’s head resting on your shoulder.

Her dark hair brushes against your neck, faintly ticklish, while her arm lies draped across your waist.

You don’t dare move. Not even a twitch.

Every nerve in your body stands at attention, screaming for you to do something. But you lie there, frozen, your heart hammering so loudly you’re sure it’ll wake her. The thought of turning your head to look at her fills you with a mixture of terror and curiosity, and you’re too paralyzed to face either.

You try—really try—to focus on the practicalities. How did this even happen? You’d climbed into bed hours ago, stiff as a board, determined to keep your distance. You’d stayed on your side, curled up awkwardly, staring at the wall like it held the answers to every question you were too afraid to ask.

But then sleep had come. Or at least something like it—a restless tangle of half-dreams and unconscious movements, shifting and turning under the weight of the night’s tension.

At some point, the gap between you must have closed. At some point, her arm must have found its way across you.

A thousand excuses rush through your mind, each more fragile than the last, as if rationalizing the moment could make the closeness disappear. But they all crumble, leaving behind one undeniable truth: you don’t want to move. Not really.

You tell yourself it’s fear. Fear of waking her. Fear of the look on her face if she realized the position you’re in. Confusion? Annoyance? Disgust? The thought twists your stomach into painful knots. But beneath the fear, another emotion lingers, quieter and far more dangerous.

It feels… good.

You hate how much you notice it, how your senses seem to betray you with every passing second. The softness of her hair brushing your neck, the heat of her body radiating against your side, the faint pressure of her arm resting on you—it all feels far too natural, far too easy, like some cruel joke the universe decided to play.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to move, to shift, to put some distance between you. But your body doesn’t listen. You’re too hyper-aware of every tiny detail, of how close she is, of how safe she feels.

A shaky exhale escapes you, your chest rising just enough to disturb the delicate stillness between you. Agatha stirs slightly in her sleep, a soft sound escaping her lips as her arm tightens instinctively around you.

Your heart practically leaps into your throat.

You swallow hard, trying to convince yourself that this is normal. That there’s nothing strange or inappropriate about lying here like this. That it doesn’t mean anything. That it’s just an accident, a coincidence. That’s all.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. Except it’s not.

Because no matter how much you want to believe that this is accidental, that she’s completely unaware, a small, traitorous part of you wonders what it would mean if she wasn’t.

You try to focus on the ceiling, on the faint creak of the house settling around you, on anything other than her. But it’s impossible. Because no matter how still you stay, no matter how hard you try to quiet your thoughts, Agatha’s presence fills every corner of the room—and every corner of you.

Your breath hitches as you finally, finally let yourself turn your head. It’s tentative at first, a small, hesitant shift of movement.

Your chin almost brushes her forehead, and the nearness of her—so close you could count the faint freckles scattered across her skin—leaves you utterly undone.

For a moment, you can’t think, can’t breathe. The sight of her like this, her face so close to yours, is enough to send your thoughts spiraling.

Your gaze moves carefully, tracing her features as if each one might dissolve into smoke if you looked too quickly.

Sharp and soft. The words loop in your mind like a mantra, and you can’t stop staring. The sharp lines of her jaw and cheekbones, the delicate curve of her lips—they blend danger and allure in a way that leaves you off-balance, like she was never meant to be anything less than both.

Your let your thoughts drift, unbidden, to what you know about her. And, perhaps more troubling, to what you don’t.

You’ve spent all your life in the same coven, shared the same spaces, breathed the same air, yet she’s always been distant. A figure just out of reach, admired and feared in equal measure by most.

You sift through your memories, trying to piece together fragments, to make sense of the person sprawled across you now.

Everyone has been speaking of Agatha’s power in hushed tones since you were children—the raw, unpredictable force of her magic. How it brims with potential but defies control. Even the older witches have always been wary of her, watching her like a storm poised on the horizon.

And then there’s the story. The one no one speaks of outright but that lingers in fragments, carried around by rumors and half-truths.

It was just over a couple of years ago. One of the daughters of your mother’s friends—a girl you barely knew, though her name still echoes through the village homes and halls—was found dead in the woods. Cold, lifeless. Drained.

The whispers said it was Agatha.

They claimed she had taken the girl’s power, siphoned it like a flame devouring a candlewick. That she left her there, alone in the woods, to die.

But that girl wasn’t just anyone. She was Agatha’s best friend.

The rumors painted it as a calculated act of power, a way to send a message and solidify her place as the rightful heir to the coven’s legacy. They said her magic demanded sacrifice, and she hadn’t hesitated to give one.

But that version of the story never sat right with you.

Even more so now, with Agatha asleep beside you, her head resting on your shoulder, her breathing slow and even in sleep. The idea of this Agatha—the Agatha who clings to you in her slumber—being the monster the rumors describe feels impossible to reconcile.

You’ve always wondered if there was more to the story. If the truth had been buried beneath layers of fear, jealousy, and Evanora’s carefully orchestrated manipulations.

Because if there’s one thing you know about Evanora Harkness, it’s that she’d burn the truth to ashes to protect her image.

The slow rise and fall of your chest brushes faintly against Agatha’s arm, jolting you back to the present. You exhale shakily, your gaze locking once again on her face.

She looks so… harmless. The thought slips into your mind unbidden, and you can’t stop yourself from clinging to it. Here, now, in your bed, tangled against you, she does look harmless. Innocent, even.

And yet… the stories remain. The danger, the sharpness, the fury—it’s still there, lurking just beneath her momentary serene exterior.

You should move. You really should. Break the moment, pull away, regain the distance you’re supposed to have. But you don’t. You can’t. Because for all the danger and mystery that surrounds Agatha Harkness, there’s something else, too.

Something that keeps you rooted in place, your gaze drinking her in, feeling her presence in every breath you take.

The stillness is interrupted by a faint shift. Agatha stirs against you, her body shifting slightly as her fingers twitch where her hand rests near your waist. Her breathing changes, no longer the even, steady rhythm of sleep but something shallower, more conscious.

You freeze, your own breath caught in your chest. Her head lifts just a fraction before settling again, her hair brushing against your neck in a way that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. For one agonizing moment, you wonder if she’ll pull away.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, Agatha lets out a soft exhale, her lashes fluttering as her eyes blink open, slow and heavy with sleep. There’s a beat—a single, suspended second where her gaze adjusts, flitting from the faint light of the room to you.

Her arm remains draped across your waist, though her fingers flex slightly, testing their place. Her lips twitch, just barely, into something resembling a smirk.

“Is this how you treat all your guests, or am I just special?” she murmurs, her voice husky and rough from sleep, the teasing lilt sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

The words pull you from your haze of panic into full-blown mortification, heat rising to your face as you open your mouth, then close it, scrambling for a response.

“You—you asked me to stay!” you stammer, your voice breaking as you shift just a little, glaring at her. “Don’t twist this into—”

Agatha cuts you off with an expression so faux-innocent you want to scream, her tone light but laced with mockery.

“Did I?” she muses, her brow quirking as though she’s genuinely pondering it. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

Your jaw drops.

Your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since she stirred, and her smirk only makes it worse. The audacity, the smugness. She’s so calm, like waking up tangled together is just another morning for her.

For you? It’s a waking nightmare—or at least, that’s the excuse you cling to as you try to suppress the heat that is completely taking hold of your whole body. Your fists clench at your sides, and your frustration boils over.

“You did! You said—” you stop yourself, huffing in exasperation as her smirk turns into a full-blown grin. “Ugh, you’re impossible.”

“And you’re far too fun to annoy.” she counters shifting slightly, her arm sliding away from your waist as she props herself up on one elbow.

You bite back another retort, your face burning as you turn your head to look anywhere but at her. She’s infuriating. Smug and sharp-tongued and—close. Too close.

The silence stretches for a beat, and you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down.

It doesn’t help that she’s still watching you, her gaze a quiet weight against your skin. You can feel it without looking—how her smirk lingers, how her eyes flicker between amusement and something unreadable.

She shifts again, finally breaking the silence.

“Well,” she says softly, her voice still carrying that teasing lilt, “if this is how you handle all your guests, I can’t imagine they stay very long.”

Your breath hitches, and you glance at her despite yourself, catching the faintest flicker of something beneath her grin. She’s teasing, sure—but there’s an edge to it, a quiet discomfort she’s trying to mask.

You huff again, crossing your arms and refusing to let her get the last word. “Maybe they don’t. But you did ask me to stay, so if you have complaints, take it up with yourself.”

Her grin softens slightly, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans back a little, her hand brushing against the blanket as she rests her weight on her palm. Her gaze flickers briefly to the window, her expression almost thoughtful.

You watch her for a moment, your own irritation ebbing away as curiosity takes its place. She’s still infuriating, still impossible—but there’s something else, too. Something quieter.

You should let it go. The tension, the moment—it’s already too much and you both literally just woke up. But the question lodges itself in your throat, unspoken words buzzing like a swarm. You don’t even mean to say it. It just… slips out. “What really happened that day?”

Agatha’s head tilts slightly, her eyes cutting back to yours in a sharp, measured motion.

“What?” she asks, her tone casual, but there’s a sudden wariness in her gaze, the edge of a blade being drawn.

You hesitate, regretting the words almost immediately, but it’s too late now.

“The girl.” you clarify, your voice quieter than you intended. “The one they say you… killed.”

The room seems to still, the air shifting as the words settle between you.

Agatha doesn’t move, her expression unreadable, but the flicker of something raw flashes behind her eyes—a shadow that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears.

Her lips curve into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Really?” she drawls, leaning back slightly, the picture of feigned nonchalance. “That’s what you want to talk about? Here? Now?”

Your stomach twists at the sharpness of her tone, but you don’t look away.

“I just…” You pause, choosing your words carefully. “I just want to know the truth.”

Agatha lets out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she looks away again.

“The truth…” she mutters, her voice low, almost mocking. “You’re the first person to actually ask me for it, you know?”

The words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“Wait.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “No one’s ever—?”

“No.” Agatha cuts in sharply, her tone laced with dry amusement that barely conceals the bitterness beneath.“Why would they? They already think they know. They don’t need my version.”

She scoffs, her lips curling into a sardonic smirk.

Your chest tightens painfully at the words, the weight of what she’s said settling over you like a heavy fog. If no one’s ever asked for her version of the story, if no one’s cared enough to hear the truth… then everything you’ve heard—the whispers, the rumors, the stories—might not be true. Or at least, not entirely.

Agatha’s gaze flickers back to you, piercing and unreadable, as if she can sense where your thoughts are heading.

“I know what they say.” she continues, her voice quieter now, colder. “Some of it’s lies, some of it’s not.”

Your breath catches, her words hanging between you like a challenge, daring you to press further. And you do.

“But if not all of it’s true…” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, “… then why?”

You hesitate, the question twisting in your chest before it finally escapes. “Why do you let them believe those things about you, hmm?”

That stops her cold.

Her gaze locks on you, her expression sharp and unyielding, but there’s something flickering beneath the surface—something fragile and dangerous and far too human.

For a moment, you swear you see something shatter behind the mask she wears so flawlessly. And when she finally speaks, her whispered answer tears through the silence like thunder.

“Because the truth is too awful.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at her. The rawness in her voice, the vulnerability she so desperately tries to hide, steals the breath from your lungs.

But you don’t back down. Not now.

“Maybe.” you say quietly, your voice softening but steady. “But I don’t think it’s worse than the lies, than the stories people tell.”

Her head tilts slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. The tension in her shoulders doesn’t ease, but there’s something in her gaze—a flicker of hesitation, of consideration.

“You’re persistent.” she mutters, the edge returning to her voice, though it’s quieter now.

“And you’re exhausting.” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual despite the knot in your chest tightening with every passing second. “But since it looks like we’re stuck together—and you’re literally in my bed—you might as well tell me.”

You know the truth, though: you’re not really stuck together. Agatha could leave anytime she wanted—she’s clever, resourceful, and probably already thought of four different ways to slip out unnoticed, if she needed or wanted to.

But you also suspect that getting Agatha Harkness to open up requires more than simple patience. She needs to feel cornered—not with malice, but with intent. She has to know that someone is paying attention, that someone cares enough to ask, and that walking away won’t make the questions disappear. So you hold her gaze, refusing to let the moment slip away.

Agatha exhales sharply, the sound laced with frustration as she rubs a hand over her face. For a long, agonizing moment, you think she might retreat entirely. But then her hand falls, and she looks at you again.

And just like that, the walls begin to crack.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha x y/n #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha all along fanfic #aaa fanfic #when we collide

63 notes · View notes

theyrealllesbians · 1 day ago

Text

Regulus heard a light knocking on his door, which was weird because he wasn't expecting anyone. He took his headphones off and got up from his desk where he was supposed to be studying. He was actually just watching random youtube videos, so he really didn't mind an excuse to get up from his desk.

He walked his way over to his door, opening it and expecting to see Evan or Barty, maybe even Sirius.

"James?" Regulus really did not expect it to be James at his door. "What're you doing here? Is everything alright?"

"Well, I promised myself I wouldn't do this," he began pacing up and down in Regulus's room, "but I've been going insane and I actually cannot concentrate on anything anymore." He stopped pacing and looked Regulus dead in the eyes, his stare a little intimidating. "What is going on between us?" James sighed, seeming to deflate a little as he said it.

Regulus shut his door, deciding that his whole floor didn't need to hear whatever this was about to be. He turned and faced James, brows creased and squinting slightly, "what the hell are you on about?"

This seemed to be the wrong question to ask, because James huffed out a laugh and scrubbed his palms over his face. "What am I on about?" He turned and took a step closer to Regulus. "We nearly fuck, you completely ghost me, we don't speak to each other for 4 months and now I'm invited to your birthday? So you care to explain any of that logic to me?" James was sounding mildly hysterical at this point, his voice getting more and more strained as he spoke. His eyes had a desperate, slightly insane, look in them that Regulus just could not ignore.

"I got busy. I don't know what else to say." Regulus shrugged nonchalantly, sitting down on his bed and nodding his head to urge James to do the same. He did not.

"And I'm supposed to believe that? What could have possibly happened that would make it so you couldn't even give me an hour? Couldn't even text me?" James seemed to be getting more and more frazzled as he spoke, looking very close to ripping his own hair out.

"I've had school, I don't know what else you want me to say. I'm busy." Regulus curled his knees up into his chest and tried to convince himself that he was telling the truth.

"I think you forget that we have the same schedule." James started to walk from the middle of the room towards Regulus. "We both do 6 classes, quidditch, prefect duties and have a social life. So please tell me what it is that is taking up all your free time that means we can't just hang out." He sighed and finally sat on the bed, his back to the wall and legs stretched out in front of him, feet dangling over the edge.

"There's a lot of school work, James. It's my first year of N.E.W.T.S, so it's a lot." Regulus began picking at the skin on the side of his thumb. He really wasn't lying that he was busy, but he was maybe, just slightly, over-stating just how busy he actually was. The truth was that whatever him and James had scared him. So he ran. He stopped asking if James could come over and started telling James he was busy whenever he asked.

"Hey, stop that." James slid his hand in Regulus's to stop him from pulling at a loose hangnail he'd found. "And I told you, I'm more than happy to just sit and work together. Beats trying to revise with your brother any day." James smiled, heartbreakingly sincere. "Besides that doesn't explain why you invited me to your birthday. That's the bit I've been going a little bit insane over."

That was fair. In truth, Regulus didn't know why he had invited James either. It was just a spur of the moment thing and before he could properly think it through, he'd already sent the invite. He could choose the lame excuse and just say that he had invited Sirius, so he had to invite the rest of them. But that wasn't true, he didn't have to invite Sirius. He didn't even have to have a party, but he missed James and Barty said it was the easiest excuse to see him again. Clearly he didn't account for whatever the hell this was.

So he decided to be truthful, "I wanted to see you." Regulus refused to look anywhere close to James's direction, instead he chose to stare at his bedsheets and count the amount of stars he could see.

James was quiet for a while, Regulus didn't want to know what he was thinking.

"You wanted to see me?" He quietly asked, forcing Regulus to look at him. Regulus was a little surprised to see how serious he looked. Suddenly all of the busy energy around him died. "You could see me at any time though? You know that." James was leaning closer and was now holding Regulus's hand with both of his.

Maybe everything wasn't as complicated as Regulus previously thought.

#a cheeky draft that I wrote when I may or may not have been going through a similar thing #jegulus #james x regulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus oneshot #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #light angst

29 notes · View notes

chibinasuu · 21 hours ago

Text

Kid x Reader ― surprise; present

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― anonymous tags: sfw (just a tiiinyy bit suggestive at the end), fluff, GN!reader, no use of y/n, established relationship, cw language (it's the kid pirates)

“Oi, Kid!” You shook the sleeping form of your Captain, “Wake the fuck up!”

He groaned in protest, refusing to open his eyes.

“Oh, come on!” You whined, shaking him more violently, “You promised you’d teach me how to ice skate today!”

“Alright, alright!” He finally conceded, throwing aside his blanket and reluctantly getting up, “Just shut up and let me get ready in peace.”

You grinned, reminding him to meet you on the deck in ten minutes, before rushing to the kitchen.

It was good that your Captain always skipped breakfast, because the kitchen and dining room of the Victoria Punk was currently in a state of chaos.

Emma was mixing a huge bowl of red cake batter under Killer’s supervision, whilst the Commander himself was seasoning some ground meat for the filling of Kid’s favorite cabbage rolls.

Dive was perched on Wire’s shoulders, hanging streamers from the ceiling all around the room. Quincy’s tongue stuck out as she concentrated on carefully painting elaborate letterings on a large white banner – it only said “HA” for now, but she had plenty of time to finish the rest of that sentence.

The other members of the Kid Pirates were also busy with various tasks – wrapping presents, blowing up balloons, polishing the fancy silverware they got from their last loot, taking out the clean, non-blood-stained tablecloth.

You nodded in satisfaction at the progress of the party preparation.

“You still here?” Heat scoffed, “Aren’t you supposed to keep Kid away from the ship?”

“Running a bit late – he literally wouldn’t budge when I woke him up.” You sighed, “But he’s up now. We’ll head off in a few minutes.”

“Don’t let him in here!” Papas yelled.

“Well, duh!” You rolled your eyes, hand on the door handle, “I’m not stupid!”

You yanked the door open only to come face-to-face with the redhead himself.

“Kid!” You exclaimed, immediately shutting the door behind you before he could see anything.

He stared at you with one eyebrow raised, “What’s with the commotion?”

“Oh, you know,” you shrugged, “The usual breakfast quarrel. Heat preferred hard-boiled eggs, Wire liked them soft-boiled, and now the rest of the crew are taking sides –yelling and throwing stuff at each other.”

Kid only hummed in response, not at all suspicious of your lie since it was a likely occurrence on this ship.

“Come on,” He offered his non-mechanical arm to you, “Let’s go then.”

You happily linked your arm with his, and off you both went ashore. Your heartbeat picked up in anticipation – it had been a while since you went on a date with Kid.

The Victoria Punk had been docked for a couple of days on this little winter island when Kid came upon the frozen lake in the middle of its woods. You had been on watch when he returned to the ship, immediately telling you all about his discovery. You had found it very endearing how he looked like a little child with that huge, excited grin as he rushed off to find his skates.

It was never even cold enough for snow on his home island back in the South Blue, so it went without saying that Kid had never ice-skated until he entered the Grand Line and set foot on his first winter island. It wasn’t long until he found out that he had a natural aptitude for it, a fact he loved bragging about to the rest of the crew.

Yesterday, you watched with envy from the sidelines as Kid, Bubblegum, and UK raced a few laps around the lake. On the way back to the ship, you had begged Kid to teach you how to skate until he finally relented and said yes, which brought you to your date today. It also happened to be the perfect opportunity to get Kid off the ship for a few hours while the crew set up the surprise.

It was a short trek to the lake, and you shook in excitement when you caught sight of the smooth, glassy surface of the ice, shimmering with the blinding reflection of the morning sun.

Kid dropped his bag on the snow-covered ground, crouching to rummage through it. He took out his own skates, a pair he made for you, and…

“I’m not wearing that fucking bowl on my head.” You looked disgustedly at the ugly metal thing that Kid was holding out to you.

“Yeah well, too bad, sweetheart.” He plopped the helmet on your head and tied the strap under your chin, “You’re wearing it, or I’m not teaching you how to skate.”

Kid then proceeded to help you put on your skates, making sure to double-knot the laces, before putting on his own. He then stood up easily, while your effort to get to your feet resulted in what probably would be a bruised bum.

The bastard had the audacity to laugh before pulling you up, guiding you to carefully step onto the icy lake. You wobbled at the slippery surface, knuckles turning white at how hard you were grasping Kid’s arms.

“Relax, doll, I got you.” Kid’s unusually soft voice calmed your nerves, and you started to slowly loosen your iron grip.

“There we go,” he grinned as he started skating backward, propelling you to go forward along with him.

“Shit, Kid.” You panicked again, staring at the speed of which your blades were carving the ice, “Slow down!”

“Hey, look at me!” He searched your eyes, “Keep your gaze straight.”

You met his amber eyes, and Kid smiled, “Good. Now, bend your knees a little for me.”

You did as he said, and when he started gliding again, you found it much easier to follow his movements.

The two of you skated across the lake – hands joined, eyes locked – until you finally felt like you got the hang of it. Kid seemed to sense your increased confidence too, because he smirked and asked, “Think you’re ready to try on your own? Or are you too much of a coward?”

The thought of losing the tether of Kid’s hands daunted you, but like hell were you going to back down from his challenge.

You reluctantly let go of his hand, and Kid skated away from you – just a short distance away, but the gap between the two of you looked massive from where you stood, frozen to your spot.

You hesitantly pushed the edge of your skate against the ice, just like Kid showed you, taking one tentative stroke, then another, and another.

He stealthily skated backward bit by bit, increasing the distance which you had to skate to reach him.

“Kid, I’m doing it!” Your smile was so bright, Kid was afraid it would melt the ice and plunge you both into the freezing waters.

With one last broad stroke, you gained speed and flung yourself straight into Kid’s waiting arms. He caught you and lifted you a few inches from the ground, spinning you around in a dizzying twirl. You laughed in glee, holding on tight to him until the spin lost its momentum and he set you down onto the ice again.

Kid rested his forehead against yours, “Not bad for a beginner.”

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the warm rays streaming through the canopy of trees, and the birds singing softly overhead.

You cleared your throat and called out his name, heat rising to your cheeks, “I, uh, got you something. For your birthday.”

You reached into the front pocket of your jeans and took out a simple metal bracelet with a single ruby embedded in the center.

The craftsmanship was extremely shoddy – the edges uneven, the stone crooked. Kid immediately knew that you made the accessory with your own hands.

You slightly pushed up the sleeve of your sweater to show the perfect bracelet Kid made you for your last birthday, crafted from the same material and inlaid all over with the blood-red gems. You rarely ever took it off, not even during showers.

You licked your lips nervously, the heat from your cheeks spreading to your entire face, “I wanted us to match.”

Kid took the bracelet from you and wordlessly slipped it onto his wrist. You waited with bated breath as he admired it glint under the sunlight.

"I know it looks awful, you don't have to wear–"

“Thanks, love.” He interrupted you. He’d never admit it, and you pretended not to notice, but his voice sounded a bit choked up when he continued, “Best damn present I’ve ever got my whole life.”

His metal hand came to rest on your hip, while his other cupped your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a rare, tender kiss.

You circled your arms around his neck, pulling him flush with you. The familiar press of your body made him groan, and his lips melded with yours more insistently, gaining a hunger that you were more used to feeling in Kid’s kisses.

You reached up to bury your hand in his crimson hair and pulled at the threads, tugging him closer.

That was the moment your feet, still fairly unused to the skates, slipped under you. Your heart dropped and Kid’s eyes widened as you toppled backward, bringing him along with you.

Your hand instinctively reached out in a desperate attempt to stop the fall and you felt something crack when it slammed onto the hard ice. Kid, thankfully, succeeded in planting both of his palms down, narrowly missing crushing you flat to the ground.

“Fuck, are you alright?!” Kid yelled as he helped you sit upright.

You winced at the sharp sting on your wrist, but nodded at him anyway, “I’m okay.”

You knocked on your helmet with your uninjured hand, laughing as the metallic bonk echoed throughout the area, “Good thing you had me put on this hideous thing, huh?”

Kid didn’t respond as he inspected your wrist with furrowed brows, “I think it’s sprained? Or broken? We need to get you back to the ship.”

The ship. Where the preparation for Kid’s surprise party was still in full swing.

“Uh, you know what? I’m good. Can we just stay here for a little longer? I haven’t even finished a full lap around the lake yet–“

“Just let me take care of you for once, won’t you?”

You melted, unable to resist that look in his eyes, so earnest and caring despite his raised voice.

“Fine.” You finally answered with a sigh.

It was fine. You just had to keep him out of the kitchen. Easy!

Not.

The kitchen was exactly the very first place Kid marched to when you two arrived back at the ship.

“Whoa, why are we heading to the kitchen? The medical supplies are in the sick bay.”

“Killer keeps a first-aid kit in the kitchen, you know that.” He squinted his eyes, starting to get suspicious, “And it’s closer. The sick bay’s all the way across and down the deck.”

You stood in front of the door, blocking it. Your ears slightly picked up the rowdy voices inside that were definitely not expecting you and the Captain to return this early.

In a last-ditch attempt, you tried to put on a seductive look, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Wait, Kid.” You trailed your hand up his chest suggestively, “Why don’t we go back to your room and I’ll give you a proper birthday present, hmm?”

“You’re being weird.” He scowled, “Step aside.”

When you didn’t make a move, Kid effortlessly picked you up by the waist and set you to the side, his hand reaching for the door handle.

“No!” You yelped as he slammed the door to the kitchen open.

Silence greeted you as the whole crew froze, pausing whatever they were doing and staring in shock at their Captain.

The cake was only half-decorated, with most of the frosting seemingly ending up on Emma’s face instead. The banner, still spread on the floor, now read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY K”, with a smudge on the “K” where Quincy’s brush slipped at Kid’s loud entrance.

You cringed and glanced at Kid, whose eyes were wide as saucers, “Uh… Happy birthday, I guess?”

A cacophony of yelled-out happy birthdays started all at once, thirty voices chaotically overlapping with each other.

“Wow, you guys suck at surprises.”

A moment later, Kid doubled over in laughter and the crew let out the breaths they didn't know they'd been holding.

Kid ended up lending an extra hand to finish the rest of the preparations for his own party while Heat treated your sprained wrist.

Despite the rocky start, the festivities turned out to be a success, with everyone enjoying themselves immensely, especially the birthday boy himself.

Kid absolutely refused a birthday song, though, so Hip and Reck busted out their electric guitars and played some of his favorite tunes instead.

The singing, dancing, and drinking went on all day and well into the night. And when some of the crew had started passing out drunk on the floor, Kid came over and whispered in your ear, “Now, about that proper birthday present…”

You dragged him out of there and into the Captain’s quarters without another word.

a/n: aksjldkj i didn't finish this in time to publish at the normal time i usually post, but it's still 10th Jan so happy birthday Kid!!!

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

↳ main masterlist ↳ join my taglist

taglist: @jintaka-hane

#eustass kid #eustass kidd #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid x you #eustass kidd x reader #eustass kidd x you #eustass x reader #eustass x you #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #op fanfic #chibinasuu fics

27 notes · View notes

enbysiriusblack · 20 hours ago

Text

"I spoke to Dumbledore about it but he refuses to do anything without proper proof."

James sighed, "Sirius, I really don't think Remus is some kind of spy at all, look he's always been a bit closed off."

"Pete believes me."

"Yeah well, Peter worships you, of course he's gonna believe you."

Sirius huffed and took a sip of his coffee before turning back to James, "He moved out, James, without a single reason."

"I know", James bit his lip before admitting to Sirius, "He asked me to loan him money to rent a place."

"And you agreed?"

"Of course I did. He's our friend!" James threw his hands up, "Look, I love you Sirius and usually I'm all for going with whatever you want, but Remus would never do that to the order. There's a reason there's no proof."

"Well", Sirius leaned against the arm rest and lifted his feet on top of James' coffee table, "We know there's a spy within the order, so why not him?"

"Because we know him? Whoever the spy is, I can promise you it's no one we're friends with."

The door banged open, Peter Pettigrew yelling out a quick 'sorry' before making his way into the living room and taking a seat by Sirius' side.

"Hey, Wormy" Sirius nodded to him in greeting, "I'm just trying to convince James here that Remus is the spy, but he's not fucking taking it."

"Oh", Peter hummed, picking his nails anxiously, "He was just at home, came to grab the rest of his stuff from our place."

"See", Sirius smirked, turning back to James, "Why exactly is he moving out?"

James sighed again and leaned forwards, "Because you two apparently keep glaring at him every time he enters a room and whispering to each other and Sirius keeps making snide remarks."

"I always make snide remarks!" Sirius scoffed.

James smiled slightly before folding his arms, "He doesn't feel comfortable staying somewhere where he knows he's not wanted."

"Well we wouldn't have a problem with him if he wasn't working for fucking Voldemort."

Peter edged around Sirius to look at James, "He has been acting weird."

"How?"

"Well Sirius said he kept staring at him whenever he thought Sirius wasn't looking and he kept trying to ask Sirius where he's going whenever Sirius went out and he's been acting distant and a bit on edge ever since we found out about a possibly spy in the order."

"Yeah", Sirius patted Peter on the back, "Exactly!"

James glanced between his friends, "Did you consider that could be because he's nervous about a spy being in the order and the dangers that could bring to us?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, "I mean it's a possibility, but unlikely. Look I'm not saying Remus is some kinda blood supremacist or whatever, but we know he's shit at standing up to people and if the death eaters cornered him and threatened him or whatever, can you really see him fighting back? Standing his ground?"

James thought about it for a moment, eyes drifting over to a photo of Remus on the mantelpiece and shook his head, "No, no. Look Dumbledore will find out who the spy is and then we'll all go back to normal and have a nice night out or something."

Sirius gave Peter a look of disbelief but nodded to James, "Fine, alright. But for now? We think Remus is the traitor, and even if you don't believe us, just be careful around him, alright? You and Lily? Just in case."

James nodded, despite not believing his two friends in the slightest, "Alright, fine. But if we're being extra careful around Remus? Then we'll be careful around everyone? If you think someone as close to us as Remus could be a spy, then we trust no one but each other and Lily."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I think that's reasonable."

Sirius wrapped an arm around Peter, "Just us four."

James smiled at his two friends, watching them as they sat on his and Lily's sofa, joking around together and smiling. He felt a pit of guilt in his stomach, at promising to not trust Remus, one of his best mates. He did still trust him and he'd still give him whatever money he needed, but he'd create a bit of a distance like he promised. For all their safety.

'Just in case' he thought, as Peter smiled innocently at him.

#my writing #marauders #marauders era #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew

29 notes · View notes

sillygoose067 · 2 days ago

Text

A Masked Promise

Ch.21

Dick Grayson(Nightwing) x Reader

“Gray,” you breathed, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer as his mouth left yours for the briefest of moments. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the heat of his body pressing into yours. God, this man. You arched into him, melting under the weight of his touch, his kiss, his everything.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and throaty, barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. His lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, teasing, before trailing down to your jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “What do you need?”

You didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. Not when his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. Instead, you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently, and he groaned against your skin, the sound vibrating through you.

All it had taken was one moment—one whispered confession, one vulnerable admission—and now here you were, pressed together on the couch, losing yourselves in each other. It had started so innocently, too. Just a quiet evening, the two of you curled up together after breakfast, talking about nothing and everything. But then the conversation had shifted, and suddenly, the air between you had become charged with something you couldn’t ignore.

---

It had been your idea, hadn’t it? The thought had tumbled out before you could stop it, but part of you was glad it had. You’d been thinking about it for weeks, turning the idea over in your mind, weighing the risks and the rewards. And now, finally, you’d said it out loud.

“I think… I might be ready to move forward in our relationship, just a little more, you know?”

The words had hung in the air between you, fragile and tentative, and for a moment, you’d worried you’d said too much. But then Dick had looked at you, really looked at you, and all your doubts had melted away. His hand, warm and steady, had slid up your thigh, and his eyes had softened with understanding—and something else, something that made your stomach flutter.

“Exploring a little,” you’d clarified, your voice trembling with nervous excitement. “Testing out what we like, what feels good.”

And just like that, the tension between you had shifted, becoming something thicker, hotter, impossible to ignore. He’d leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, and whispered, “Sounds pretty damn enticing.”

From there, things had escalated quickly. A brush of lips, a tender touch, and before you knew it, you were gasping into his mouth, your bodies pressed together as if trying to close any distance that still remained between you.

---

Now, his hands roamed over your body, mapping every curve, every dip, as if committing you to memory. One moment, they were cradling your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks; the next, they were sliding down your sides, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that made your breath catch.

“Gray,” you gasped again, your voice shaky, needy. You weren’t sure what you were asking for, but it didn’t matter—he seemed to understand anyway.

In one swift motion, he stood, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You let out a surprised squeak, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you toward the bedroom. Your heart raced, not just from the sudden movement but from the way he held you, like you were something precious, something irreplaceable.

He set you down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on your shoulders as he stepped back, giving you space. For a moment, he just looked at you, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. His eyes were dark, hungry, but there was something else there, too—something tender, almost reverent.

“Still okay?” he asked, his voice rough.

You nodded, unable to form words, and reached for him, pulling him back to you. He came willingly, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was equal parts passion and promise. His hands found the hem of your shirt, his fingers skimming the bare skin of your stomach, and you shivered at the contact.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured against your lips, his voice breaking slightly. “Anytime. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, though stopping was the last thing on your mind. Not when his touch sent sparks dancing across your skin, not when his kisses left you breathless and wanting.

His hands moved higher, sliding beneath your shirt, and you arched into his touch as his fingertips brushed against the lace of your bra. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, every inch of you. When his thumbs swept over your nipples, already taut with anticipation, you gasped, your head falling back.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “You’re so…” He trailed off, letting his actions speak for him as he lowered his mouth to your neck, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin. At the same time, his hands slipped beneath the cups of your bra, and the feeling of his skin against yours was almost too much to bear.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he explored you, learning what made you tremble, what made you moan. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a revelation, like the pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place. And through it all, he watched you, his eyes never leaving your face, reading every flicker of pleasure, every gasp of surprise.

“Gray,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his thumb circled your nipple, sending waves of heat curling through your body. “I…”

But whatever you were about to say was lost as his mouth claimed yours again, silencing you with a kiss that was as deep as it was desperate. His hands moved lower, sliding down your sides to grip your hips, and you could feel the tension in his muscles, the restraint he was struggling to maintain.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “Tell me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as his lips trailed down your collarbone, his tongue flicking against your pulse point.

And then—

“Please.”

The single word slipped out before you could stop it, soft and pleading, and Gray froze, his breath hitching. Slowly, he pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a question there, unspoken but clear, and you answered it by reaching for him, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

This, you thought as his hands fumbled with the clasp of your bra. This is what I need.

The air between you crackled with anticipation as Gray’s fingers finally undid the clasp of your bra, the fabric sliding away to expose your skin to the cool night air. His hands hesitated for just a moment, hovering over your bare chest, before he let out a low, appreciative sigh. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

His touch was electric as his hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your already taut nipples. You arched into him instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he leaned down to capture one peak in his mouth. The warmth of his tongue sent shivers spiraling through you, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him closer.

“Gray,” you whispered, your voice trembling. His name felt like a prayer on your lips, a plea for more.

He responded by gently pinching the other nipple between his fingers, rolling it slowly as he continued to tease the first with his tongue. The dual sensations made your breath hitch, your body melting into the mattress beneath him. His free hand slid down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on your hip, pulling you even tighter against him.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, dark and hungry. “Tell me what you want,” he said softly, his voice rough but tender. “I need to hear you say it.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as you reached for his hand, guiding it lower until his palm rested just above the waistband of your panties. “Touch me,” you breathed, your voice barely audible. “Please.”

His gaze never left yours as he nodded, his fingers slipping beneath the delicate fabric. You tensed slightly at the first brush of his fingertips against your sensitive flesh, but then—oh, then—he found your clit, and every nerve in your body lit up like a firework.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice low and husky as he began to circle the bundle of nerves with agonizing slowness.

Your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing the pressure, and you bit your lip to stifle another moan. “Yes,” you managed to gasp. “Just like that.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, and increased the speed of his fingers, the rhythmic motion sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. Your head fell back against the pillows, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to focus on the sensation, on the way his touch seemed to consume you entirely.

But then he slowed again, his fingers barely grazing you, and you whimpered in frustration. “Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice breaking. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Look at me,” he commanded, his tone firm but gentle. When you opened your eyes, his face was inches from yours, his expression intense yet loving. “I want to see you. I want to know I’m doing this right.”

You nodded frantically, unable to form words as he resumed his ministrations, his touch firmer now, more deliberate. His thumb pressed down on your clit while his index finger dipped lower, teasing your entrance. The combination was maddening, and you could feel the tension building inside you, coiled tight and ready to snap.

“Close?” he asked, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded again, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him. “So close,” you managed to choke out. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His fingers moved faster, harder, and you could feel the pressure cresting, the pleasure becoming almost too much to bear. And then—oh God—you were falling, tumbling over the edge as your body seized, wave after wave of ecstasy washing over you.

You cried out his name, your back arching off the bed as the intensity of your climax consumed you. Dick held you through it, his arms strong and steady, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear as you trembled in his embrace.

When it finally subsided, you collapsed against the pillows, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Dick’s hand still rested between your thighs, his fingers lightly stroking your oversensitive flesh, and you shuddered at the touch, your body still humming with aftershocks.

He smiled down at you, his expression soft and satisfied. “Good?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

You let out a weak laugh, your cheeks flushing as you nodded. “More than good,” you admitted, your voice hoarse. “That was… incredible.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling back to look at you again. “You’re incredible,” he corrected, his tone sincere. “I just wanted to make sure you felt that way.”

You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “You did,” you assured him, your voice steady despite the lingering tremors in your limbs. “Thank you.”

Dick’s smile widened, and he shifted slightly, his body still pressed against yours.

But then, the shyness crept back again. The lingering feeling of being so close to someone, of having shared something so intimate, made you feel like you were floating, but also very much aware of how exposed you felt. You couldn’t stop the little laugh that escaped your lips, a nervous giggle you tried to hold back. “I… uh, I hope I didn’t mess up,” you whispered, your voice almost a whisper, unsure of how he’d take it.

Dick chuckled softly, the sound low and reassuring. “Trust me, you didn’t mess up anything.” He pulled you closer, the warmth of his chest against yours calming your nerves as his lips brushed your forehead again. “You were perfect.”

You closed your eyes, letting the words wash over you, but the slight blush that still lingered on your cheeks wouldn’t disappear. You were starting to realize just how much you’d let him in, and the vulnerability was still new, still a little scary. Yet, it felt safe, secure in a way you’d never known before.

…

After a few quiet moments of holding you close, Gray shifted slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His gaze softened, a tender mix of love and concern filling his eyes. “You okay?” he asked gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You nodded, though your body still felt a little shaky from the intensity of it all. “Yeah, just… a little overwhelmed,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His expression grew even softer, if that were possible, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, the words a soothing balm to the nervous energy still fluttering in your chest. He shifted, untangling himself from you, but his touch never left. “Stay here. Let me get you some water, okay?”

Before you could protest, he was already off the bed, moving with purpose toward the kitchen. You watched him go, the sight of him in nothing but his boxers and that familiar sense of care he exuded bringing a small, affectionate smile to your lips. When he returned, he had a glass of water in one hand and a clean, soft towel in the other.

“Drink this,” he instructed, handing you the glass as he sat beside you again. His tone was gentle but firm, his concern evident as he watched you take a few sips. Once he was satisfied, he set the empty glass on the nightstand and scooted closer.

“Lean back for me,” he said softly, holding up the towel. You blinked at him in confusion, and he chuckled quietly, his free hand brushing over your arm. “Just want to make sure you’re comfortable. I know it got a little intense.”

A blush crept up your neck, but you leaned back against the pillows, letting him gently wipe away the light sheen of sweat from your skin. His movements were slow and deliberate, his touch featherlight, as though you were made of porcelain. “You didn’t have to…” you started, your voice trailing off as he gave you a soft smile.

“I wanted to,” he replied simply, his voice steady as his hands continued their careful work. “You’re my priority. Always.”

The weight of his words settled over you, warming your chest as you gazed at him. When he finished, he set the towel aside and pulled the blanket up over both of you, tucking it around you snugly.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low, as he slid back into bed beside you, gathering you into his arms. His hands trailed soothing patterns over your back, grounding you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

You nodded, your head resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you further. “Better,” you whispered, your voice full of gratitude and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he whispered, “Good. Because you deserve to feel taken care of.”———————————————————————————-

TAGLIST:

@mybones537 @thereeallink @ziziriaa-blog

33 notes · View notes

tourturestarradio · 1 day ago

Text

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌

"𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐢'𝐦 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬."

"𝐃𝐨 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦?"

☆ ★ �� ★ ☆

Pairing: Worst Wolverine x Vampire reader (platonically)

Prompt: You lost him...he was gone, so why was he here how was he here?

Warnings: Angst with no comfort, Deadpool 3 spoilers, Wade being Wade. (this is connected to Enjoy the silence)

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

Was this a joke? Blinking you stared at him fingers twitching. He was gone, you watched him die, right in front of your eyes. You'll never forget that moment, you lost him, you lost the single most important person in your life and you lost him.

So how?

How was he standing here right in front of you, the rest of the group looking at you wondering what you're gonna do.

Wade gasped as he looked between the two "is this the start of a found family trope-oh nevermind."

You tackled him down in an instant catching him off guard, growling in anger. Growing your nails out you stabbed into his sides "ah fuck!" prompting him to release his claws standing them into your side, just like old times.

"Well this is NOT how I thought this would go...oh gosh"

Wade gulped the others trying to pull you off of Logan as you two continued to claw at each other "it's like watching a cat fight." Blade looked over at him "will you quit your yapping and help us!" Wade nodded dragging Logan away from you.

"The fuck is your problem! You asshole!" Logan shouted yanking his arm away from Wade.

You hissed at him again, prompting Laura to speak up "they can't talk. Well at least not that well" Logan glared at you and you did the same.

"Well nothing can be worse trying to hear this guy try to do a public speech?" Wade said lightly patting Gambit's shoulder, Blade and Elektra letting go of you.

"L...iar ..."

Logan looked at you "the fuck?" he muttered his wounds slowly healing, your scratchy rugged voice calling out again.

"...L..iar"

"The fuck are you talking about?"

Wade nodded "I agree with peanuts here I can't really understand, you need some whiskey to clear out your throat since we don't have a drop of water anywhere." he joked.

You could feel tears bubble up in your eyes as you hissed again turning and leaving too angry to get a grip on yourself.

"Well that went about as well as a priest going to a school playground."

Elektra rolled her eyes "shut the fuck up" she groaned, Laura followed you out, Wade trying to make small talk "So...anybody up for uno..." he asked

The silence lingered for an uncomfortable amount of time as no one was in the mood for talking.

"Dear God the author needs to change scenes. I can't making jokes to fill this awkward silence" Wade said shaking his head.

The night drew close as you stayed up on a tree branch sitting staring at the moon your nails tapping against the tree bark, dried tear streaks on your face. The brain remembering everything about him and the comfort he gave you, that void he filled.

He was the father you never had, he cared about you even when no one else did, even when everyone turned their back on you after the accident. He was there, you stuck like glue to his side never thinking the man you held so dear to your heart could ever die.

He was a hero? He wasn't supposed to die.

He was your hero.

And he left you.

He promised he would leave you.

He promised.

And he lied, he lied right to your face. You'll never forget the anger you felt after he took that final breath, the hate you felt. But it wasn't towards him, it was towards yourself. You let the one person who meant the most to you die, you let him slip through your fingers just like that.

But now. He's here again. Your eyes glued to him as he drank and talked with Laura for a little bit before she walked away. You didn't understand it, you wanted to lash out you wanted to scream and shout at him for leaving you but you couldn't. You had so many questions, so much you had to tell him about what happened in your life, there was so much to say but you could never say it.

"I know you're there."

Blinking you stared at him, how did he know...?

"I can smell you. Come out."

You jumped down from the tree slowly walking up to him you sat down keeping your eyes on the flames, "what do you want, here to stab me again?" he asked glancing over at you.

You shook your head, signing 'sorry' to him. He looked at you confused and you signed it again, "I don't understand that." you cocked your head to the side, maybe he just forgot.

So with the best you could you strained out a small "s...orry" Logan looked at you, as you continued "..f..or. hur...ting" he only waved you off.

There was silence before you spoke again "..h..ow?" it hurt to speak but you did so anyway, Logan knew what you meant regardless "look kid. I'm not who you think I am." he started, you gripped onto your pants "I'm not him." he finished.

You shook your head getting up walking away for a second before coming back, you had a picture in your hand showing it to him, it was a bad picture you took of your first mission, it was you and Logan you had a grin while Logan was trying to swat away the camera.

Logan looked at it "that's not me." he stated firmly, you pushed the picture towards him again "kid listen to me. That ain't me," you didn't believe him.

Were you gone too long? Why didn't he remember?

Showing him another picture he swatted your hand away making you drop the picture into the fire, your eyes growing wide as you scrambled to grab the picture.

Logan quickly grabbed you seeing as you were burning yourself to grab it "hey! hey! damn it stop it!" you faught against him to grab the picture burning your hand in the processes.

Putting the fire out you looked at it half Logans face was burned off. Looking at the male you shoved him with a shout "stop that." he commanded annoyed.

You shoved him again "w..hy!" Logans claws shot out pointing at your throat "look kid I already fucking told you i'm not him! Get that through your thick fucking head!" snatching the two photos away from you he held them up shouting at you "I'm. not. him! I'm not that fucking man you used to know! That man is dead!" he yelled.

You could feel more tears fill your eyes, not wanting to believe what he was saying. "He's gone! You've seen it for yourself! And there is nothing you can do about it! He's Dead!" He shouted throwing the pictures down before shoving past you angrily.

You hurried to pick up the pictures holding them close to your chest as hot tears ran down your cheeks, sitting on the ground you pulled your legs up to your chest.

He was right about one thing he was nothing like the Logan you knew. He may have looked like him but he was nothing like him, he was an imposter, a fake, a lie. The Logan you knew and loved was dead.

And no one could bring him back.

A/n: This was a tough one, should I do a part two?

36 notes · View notes

l1v1ngd3dgrrl · 1 day ago

Note

Bestie pls hear me out 😩😩 your work on ao3 is mind blowing AMAZING! If you are taking requests can you write like a Daisuke/reader fic where they’ve been trying to sleep together (secret relationship type deal) but they’ve been getting cockblocked by every member of the crew until they finally get time of their own with pent up feelings

AN: I audibly gasped when i read this request, anon your miiiiiind. Fuck yeah let's do it! Also thank you for enjoying my work aaaaaaaaa, it makes me so giddy when i get comments like that! thank you for your patience <3

Alone Together [Daisuke x Reader]

word count: 2,503

Cw(s):getting cockblocked/sexual tension, Daisuke gets a little rough here and doesn't pull out, usage of babe/my girl, soft dom Daisuke(?), Shitty attempt at dirty talk again because ya ghoul cannot write it well at all. Leg locking?

Continuing my contributions to the Freaksuke agenda <- that is a joke, please don't get mad at me. I may have gotten a lil too carried away with this one (sweats)

MDNI banner: Cafekitsune.

Having a secret relationship wasn't something you ever imagined yourself doing. Especially with one of your co-workers. You've worked at Pony Express for about 3 years now, and never really found yourself drooling over anyone in your crew. (Okay there was that ONE time you thought Curly was really hot but that's over and done with.) It was unprofessional and would make things awkward.

That sentiment flew out of the window when you met the newest member joining you for this Haul, Daisuke was the new 22 year old intern working with Swansea. Unsurprisingly Swansea made it very clear from day one that he wasn't thrilled with it, which did affect him negatively causing him to be pretty shy when talking with the rest of the crew. Over time he warmed up to everyone, eagerness similar to a a cartoon protagonist at times but in the most endearing way.

Now this little (at the time) one-sided crush didn't happen all at once, It was about a month into your haul when you noticed that you'd get butterflies in your stomach whenever you heard him talk, laugh or do literally anything. He could breathe and you would just stare at him like he hung the moon. It was an interesting display on your part, hopefully he didn't catch you staring and think you were weird.

By the third month he let it slip that he thought you were attractive. The exact way he confessed it was a little hard to remember but it was in the dorkiest way possible-lots of fumbling of words and finger guns. Ever since then you two begun dating in secret.

The hardest part about all of this was trying to get more intimate. There were only a certain amount of places you two could do it with the lowest risk of getting caught. No place was truly 100% risk free, which became increasingly obvious when you kept getting cockblocked by everyone.

First it was Anya, as sweet as she is you slightly resent her for scaring the living hell out of you when she needed Daisuke for his psyche eval. She didn't see anything, and it's not like you two were actually fucking but you were pretty close to doing so. The sudden knocking on the door killed the mood and startled both of you.

"Another time, I promise." Is what he whispered before placing a kiss on your lips.

The second incident was when you paid a visit to Daisuke in the utility room, completely innocent at first. You had to run a binder to him. When Swansea grunted out that he was going on break and to not linger too long and distract him that's when the tension in the air boiled over. Alas, much like last time you two didn't get very far and had to scramble to get yourselves decent before Swansea could barge in and lecture the both of you.

"Next time we won't get interrupted?" he awkwardly said, not fully convinced in his own words.

The third time the two of you were giggling and placing heated kisses on each others skin, on your way to your sleeping quarters. Clothes were discarded on the floor and hands were wandering over bare skin, maybe this time was finally the time you didn't get interrupted.

The sound of a very grouchy Jimmy banging on your door for you to "Shut the fuck up and go to sleep." caused you to audibly groan in frustration. "Fine-Fine!, Just go away!"

Daisuke looked as if he was about to cry.

And of course the breaking point for the both of you was when your captain of all people almost caught you. Frustration was starting to eat both of you whole.

It was one night when everyone had gone to bed earlier than usual did Daisuke pull you into his sleeping quarters, kissing your skin feverishly and panting like a dog. "I can't hold off much longer please," he whined. "I don't even care if we get caught or whatever." You agreed wholeheartedly.

It's been nearly a whole month since the two of you had sex. yikes. You were probably more worked up than he is.

"We should at least move the desk in front of the door-as a precaution y'know?" you murmured. Daisuke nodded eagerly and rushed over to move the piece of furniture in front of the door.

It wasn't the heaviest thing in the world, but it often took you a bit to move it by yourself. Daisuke on the other hand was moving it with ease as if it weighed nothing. Hot.

After the desk was moved he turned to you and began pulling his shirt over his head, careful to avoid snagging it on his earrings.

This was your cue to do the same, you gripped the hem of your shirt and began to peel it over your head. In the split second that your vision was blocked by the fabric Daisuke had taken it upon himself to drop to his knees and start placing kisses down your now exposed abdomen. You giggled, the feeling of the kisses tickled and felt odd.

Once your shirt was fully off he stood back up and kissed you again, walking you towards your bed. Your knees hit the side of the mattress and both of you dropped backwards. He moved his knees on either side of your hips, as he sat back on his haunches eyeing you over wordlessly. "You're so hot." he blurted out. You giggled and pulled him in for another kiss. "I know."

Both of you didn't know where to start, there was an awkward pause as you both sat in silence thinking about what you wanted the most. You took the lead and reached over to his pants, palm instantly going over and rubbing him through his jeans. His hips jerk forward briefly and he groans, eyes rolling back.

It's dark, but you can feel the pre starting to seep into the fabric beneath your palm. Warm and slightly sticky. You bite your lip and wrap your hand around the bulge and proceed to jerk him the best you can through the denim. His breathing is starting to get heavier, huffing and groaning as he clutches the blanket underneath the both of you.

"I want more-fuck I need more." he says, heavy with want. You give him a firm squeeze before bringing your hand up to unbutton his jeans. With Shakey hands he helps you, happy to finally ease this tension. His pants hit the floor with a quiet plop and he's left in his boxers, the front of them wet with his arousal. "Lay back on the bed." You command gently, he obliges wordlessly.

This time you're the one on top, your knees spread on either side of his legs and kissing down his abdomen like he had done to you minutes prior, stopping once you reach his boxers. His breath hitches and you tug the fabric down. His erection springs free and he winces slightly at the temperature change.

You take him into your palm, thumb spreading the pre down his shaft as lubrication and pump him a few times. On the bed Daisuke grips the blanket and lets his jaw fall slack. You lean foreword and take him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head.

He keens and sits up ever so slightly, propping himself on his elbows. He likes the way your cheeks hollow around him, the feeling of your tongue as it spirals around the tip and then down this length. Before things could go too far he stops you, and you let out a disapproving whine.

"You deserve some action too." he says, his thumb coming up to wipe away some saliva on your lip. "I mean yeah, But I was having fun." He rolls his eyes and pulls you in for a kiss.

"Let me take care of you for a bit."

"ugh fine." you playfully groan. You stand up and drop your bottoms, much to Daisuke's surprise you weren't wearing underwear. "Nice." he grins and you lightly smack him on the shoulder.

He has you lay down beside him, legs spread and his hand trailing up your thighs. His fingers trace up your slit and he grins, "Wow you're like really wet right now."

"Can you blame me?" you ask, drawing in a shaky breath as rubs small circles on your clit.

"I can't," he presses wet kisses to your neck. "And I won't." His fingers begin to work inside you now, curling as he moves. You let out a low moan and spread your legs just a bit further.

He continues, relishing in the soft gasps and moans he draws out of you. Once he hits that one specific spot that makes you cry out he smirks and focuses on it, fingers pumping in and out of you faster. You're moans get a little too loud and he gently covers your mouth with his palm.

"I love hearing you, but I think I would actually die if we get interrupted again." He pulls his palm away and replaces it with his lips, groaning as you whine into the kiss.

His movements continue, and as you draw closer to your boiling point his movements cease. He pulls his fingers from you and pulls away from the kiss. Now it's your turn to protest, you were almost there!

Before you can even say anything Daisuke is moving to where he's hovering over you, elbows pressed into the stiff mattress. "Did you want it this way babe, or did you have another position in mind?"

"Lemme ride."

"You got it."

He trades places with you, laying on his back yet again and caressing your hips as you line up with his cock. You sink down on him slowly, biting your lips to suppress a moan. Daisuke has no intentions of quieting himself. "Hoh fuck-" He sucks in a sharp breath once he was fully sheathed inside you.

He holds onto your hips with an almost bruising grip, careful not to hurt you. You begin to rise and fall into his lap, skin meeting skin with a 'plap' sound. Quiet moans and gasps pour past your lips as you continue to ride him, the long over due feeling of feeling full is almost too intense.

Beneath you Daisuke is slack jawed, eyes darting between your face and where the two of you meet. Despite the obvious pleasure he's experiencing it's obvious that he's wanting more, clearly holding back something.

You lean down and graze the shell of his ear with your lips, the feeling of your breath so close sends a shiver down his spine and goosebumps to form on his skin.

"You don't have to hold back." You whisper, You sit back up to look at his face. His eyes widen. "Wait what?"

"Don't hold back, You're super tense right now."

He swallows thickly and his hands squeeze tighter on your hips. "I would but like-" he pauses and bites his lip. "I don't wanna hurt you."

You snort and roll your eyes. "If I didn't think I could handle it I wouldn't have asked." For a moment he just stares blankly, the cogs in his brain turning.

"Meaning..?"

"Meaning I want you to give it to me," You grasp his jaw lightly in one hand and tilt his head up to look directly at you. "Hard."

In an instant his demeanor does a 180 and a wicked grin stretches across his face. "Say less."

His feet press into the mattress and he begins thrusting up, pace brutal. You yelp and grip the sheet below you. "Daisuke!" He merely chuckles and continues, his hands pulling you down to meet his thrusts.

This side of him is something you thought you would never see. Not that you thought he was 'weak' or submissive or anything, he just didn't seem like the type. Though when you're constantly being cockblocked by your crewmates emotions get bottled up quick.

Your eyes roll back as he continues thrusting, jaw falling slack and letting any and all noises flow freely. Somehow it felt like he was deeper, his cock hit new spots in you and you thought you were gonna see stars. The room is filled with the bed creaking and the sound of your bodies slapping together, there's no way that the others didn't hear you.

Suddenly he pauses, gasping for breath below you.

"Tapping out?" You ask snapping out of your daze. "Not yet, Might need to change positions though." He eases you backwards, hovering over you as your back hits the mattress for a second time. He lines himself back up with your pussy and pushes in.

Instinctively your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer. His hips draw back and he resumes thrusting, your body bounces with each push and pull. Over the various noises you hear him mumble praises out to you, how good you feel and how well you're taking him. You moan his name unabashedly, head falling backwards and eyes squinting shut. Without a doubt you were going to be sore tomorrow, the ache starting to set in now. You didn't care, it felt amazing.

"That's my girl." he pants, his hands gripping the sheets beside your head and thrusting even harder. "I can't last much longer, Where do you want it?"

Wordlessly you tighten your legs around his waist and lock eyes with him. He swears and nods. "There? you got it babe." With a few more sloppy thrusts he's spilling inside of you.

He stays buried as he catches his breath, his hand coming up to trace your jawline. "God, You're beautiful."

"You too." He leans down brushing his lips against yours and pressing a few slow deep kisses against them. After he pulls away you point to the nightstand next to you. "I should have some tissues in the drawer."

He looks down to where both of you meet and snorts. "Oh whoops, yeah almost forgot about that." He slides out of you, and you feel his cum start to ooze out. He opens the drawer and pulls out the tissues you mentioned, grabbing a handful and cleaning you up first. It won't get all of it, but it'll clean you up enough.

Once the clean up part is over he climbs back into bed with you, pulling you close. "I uh- wasn't too rough with you right?" he asks, brown doe eyes searching your face eagerly. "You weren't too rough I promise," You brush hair away from his face and smile. "I kinda liked it." His face flushes and he smiles awkwardly "I'm glad you did, not sure if I'd be able to do that all the time though."

"We could always hold off for another few months." you tease. "Please don't." he adds on quickly, "I think I would literally explode." You snort and kiss him. "I'm kidding!"

#18+ mdni #mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader

23 notes · View notes