#and not like in situations where the fault could be split

[quilliums]

None, have y'all ever been around Alabama drivers that cut through Mississippi? Worst in the country next to St Louis in Missouri. Every single time I've gone to St Louis I've gotten hit.

[knaveofmogadore]

Kfkdks

[sttoru]

hi!! could you write smut of sukuna w/ corruption kink x clingy reader? i need to see more of them 🤭🤭

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. smut, pwp. corruption kink. reader is described as clingy cute / innocent. voyeurism?// exhibitionism. double pénetràtion. cowgirl. cream pies. nicknames ‘slut, brat, woman’. combined 2 requests :3

it’s honestly your own fault. you’ve been sticking around sukuna the entire day, clinging onto him like he won’t let you experience the consequences of your own actions.

“eyes on me, brat,” sukuna scoffs, thumb and index roughly turning your chin back. he needs to see your face as he embarrasses you in front of the guests and other concubines standing around the throne.

you’re supposed to feel regret, yet you’re drowning in a state of pure lust. it’s the thrill that keeps your hips going, the ache in them temporarily ignored as you search for that grande moment of euphoria.

you can’t care less about the humans at the bottom of the stairs. they’re grovelling in fear of the king of curses, knowing their heads can fly off if they dare to look up at you two.

it’s a sign of disrespect—a sign that the king of curses can’t care less about what those lowlifes have come to see him for. sukuna’s doing so on purpose, using your clinginess to his advantage.

“hah, what a total slut of a concubine,” sukuna scoffs, leaning his head against one of his hands, elbow propped onto the armrest. this is a punishment for you, though it certainly does not feel like that. even if all attendants in the room can hear you fucking yourself silly on sukuna’s dicks.

you and those sloppy sounds of your two bodies connecting.

you try to hold back your moans, but a rough yank to your hair instantly opens your mouth again. your eyes roll back and your voice spews out. “mhh, my lord—‘s too much,” you whimper, however your body doesn’t stop bouncing on his cocks. sukuna responds by squeezing your middle while he watches his lengths being swallowed by your cunt and ass.

it’s funny how you’ve been reduced to a mess—a toy he can command to do whatever he pleases. your clinginess secretly pleases him, because it reassures him that you’ll do what’s asked of you. sukuna grins lazily, letting you work for it, “too much? tsk. weren’t you the one begging f’ my attention, brat?”

he does have a point. you nod mindlessly whilst his cocks drill into you—leaving no hole empty. your eyes dart to both sides of the throne, where two concubines are situated. you can see them tremble in embarrassment and envy.

sukuna’s showing you off to everyone and they don’t like it; none of the concubines do. they hate the fact that he chose you to show off to everyone else in the room. like you’re the only trophy he’s proud of.

the guests don’t dare to speak either. nor does uraume, who’s politely looking the other way as their master ravages his favorite little concubine. they’re used to his acts of exercising his power.

sukuna keeps a firm grip on your hair, threatening to pull your head back each time you dare look around you. “you have no shame. absolutely zero,” the king of curses says condescendingly. as if the humiliation of being watched isn’t enough, sukuna’s words add to the embarrassment you’re feeling, “cock hungry slut can’t go a minute without being filled, hm?”

your whimpers get louder and your pace grows faster. his fat tips hit your deepest parts over and over again, the stretch threatening to split you in half. you’re too turned on to care. the way sukuna’s staring at you with that menacing glare—his sharp nails digging into your skin so painfully . . . you need it all.

“this ‘s why you’ve been following me ‘round all day long,” sukuna grunts—one hand coming up to free your breasts from the confines of your robes, “y’ just needed to be dicked down.” the flicks against your stiff nipples make you tighten up around his cocks again and again.

you’re nearly screaming because of everything your senses are picking up on. your half lidded eyes catch a glimpse of sukuna’s cocky facial expression and you’re almost pushed over the edge. he’s so smug—knowing he has you in the palm of his hand.

his eyes are luring you in. there’s a hint of something so primal in there - a beast impatiently waiting to be unleashed - one that sukuna is trying his best to suppress.

“aren’t you just cute. . .” sukuna mocks with a dangerous chuckle. his thumb rubs your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth for you to suckle on.

“kehehe, isn’t that what those servants call you? cute.. innocent.. adorable,” he continues, faintly groaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb. sukuna cocks his head to the right and your eyes follow. that’s where you spot your maids and lady-in-waiting in a corner.

you feel tears well up in your eyes from both pleasure and humiliation. everyone is seeing and hearing you being claimed by the monster of a curse you’re riding. your maids have always adored your innocence—how you don’t seem to be tainted by sukuna’s advances no matter what. it’s a first to them.

it has been a rumor around the estate for so long; you being the only concubine who can withstand sukuna’s wicked influence. you always seem to stay yourself, your cheery and sweet personality never changing. you’ve been known as the innocent one among all other concubines.

yet here those same maids are, watching your brain being corrupted by sin. you’re so sinfully enjoying how sukuna’s cocks are penetrating you. “n-no, am—fnghh—don’t wanna,” you stammer, speaking to no one in particular. your inner desires clash with your rational mind and your body seems to continue its erotic act.

“don’t you fight it, woman,” sukuna brings your attention back by thrusting his cocks all the way up inside you, balls slapping harshly against your ass. he’s proud with his accomplishments. you’re slowly but surely being tainted by him and it’s so pleasing.

soon enough, that damned innocence of yours is going to disappear. he’s going to turn you into a total slut driven by lust, for him and only him. he’s going to ruin you and your body until all you can think of is the pleasure he can give you.

your nails dig into sukuna’s shoulders. you moan loudly, losing the battle, as expected. the king of curses just knows how to make you give in. he takes great pleasure in seeing you lose yourself, with everyone watching how he strips you from that innocence.

“stupid, nasty fuckin’ thing,” sukuna grunts as the lower pair of his arms hold you by your hips. he halts your movements before starting his own. “y’re mine, ya hear?” he pounds up into you—making you mewl. a chant of his name leaves your lips. you simply cannot stop yourself.

“yes, ‘m yours, my lord!” you moan for everyone to hear. the pink-haired man grins in satisfaction and quickly plunges his cocks in and out of your holes, needing to release himself so he could fully claim you as his in front of the rest.

his dirty cumslut, his tainted and brainless doll.

sukuna wraps all four arms around you, leaving no room for escape. he presses you against him until you’re struggling to breathe. your head is pushed against his shoulder and your insides are being turned into mush. the gooey fluids drip down onto the throne and down the floor.

“fuck. not a drop goes to waste or i’m fuckin’ ya again,” sukuna warns before shooting loads of cum into your womb and up your ass. both your holes are stuffed full of white, sticky semen mixed with your own release. you desperately clench around nothing once sukuna pulls you off his dicks.

you try to reach your hands out towards him as he manoeuvres your body away once he’s finished. the king of curses pins your wrists at your back so he can turn you around on his thighs, forcefully spreading your legs like a trophy he’s showing off on his throne.

one arm wraps around your waist and his chin rests on your right shoulder. sukuna keeps you on his lap and continues to act like he didn’t just completely wreck your insides.

while you’re left in the intense moment, he seems to have moved on already.

“speak,” sukuna orders the humans who’ve witnessed the whole ordeal. their foreheads are stuck on the floor—none of them daring to look up at the sight, like everyone else.

you’re panting and your head is spinning. you’re totally spent. sukuna holds your limp body up on his lap as one hand is busy scooping the excess cum back into your pussy, not wasting a drop like said before.

one of the villagers finally speaks up, stating the reason for their visit to the estate. their voice is muffled due to a loud buzzing in your ear. you’re tired and can’t focus on what’s said either. you just want to sleep. . . in sukuna’s warm embrace, filled and half-naked, for the entire room to see as they continue discussing business as if you’re not even there.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader, you go to check out a potential apartment and Sukuna joins because he is very helpful. Longest one yet so strap in!

cw:Sukuna waving his red flag like a matador while you do your best SZA impression

Sukuna thought you seemed more stressed than usual when he got home. You still talked through dinner and entertained your daughter but he could tell something was weighing on you. While Bug chased some very melted ice cream around her bowl with her spoon, he brought over some dishes to where you had already started washing the pans you'd used to make dinner.

"Thought I was responsible for the dishes since you made dinner," he reminded you, gently nudging you out the way.

"It's really not a bother and besides, you're already doing us such a big favor, letting us stay here," you said and you sounded a little choked up at the end which made him turn the water off so he could give you his full attention.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't mind?" He couldn't help some frustration edging into his tone which only made you look sadder. He sighed and dried his hands on the towel, a new addition you had gotten, it was covered in sunflowers and it reminded him of you every time he used it.

"What's going on, you seem off today?"

You hesitated and he put his hand on your shoulder. He preened when you put your smaller hand on top of his and squeezed before giving you his full attention.

"I-I went to go see an apartment today and it was just awful." Sukuna barely fixed his face in time for you to look up at him. He had no idea you were even looking at other places. You'd barely been at his place a month and he had thought you had a good routine going on. You both split the household responsibilities and you spent your time not working together. He picked up your daughter twice a week now from daycare and took over Sunday mornings so you had some time to yourself. Someone at the grocery store had cooed over your adorable family and you hadn't even corrected them.

Obviously, you still weren't getting it and Sukuna reminded himself that it wasn't your fault. It was still like pulling teeth to get you to talk about your ex and honestly what he'd heard about your family hadn't really impressed him either. You had been taking care of yourself for far too long and it only made sense that you would be worried about being a burden on him when other people had made you feel like that rather than seeing caring for you as the privilege it was.

"Why was the apartment so awful?"

You bit your lip and he felt some concern that wasn't related to you potentially leaving. "What?"

"It was the usual, you know. It was over my budget and it was too small, I mean Bug is getting bigger every day, she needs her own room too. Then the building looks like it's only days away from collapsing and the guy who showed it, I mean he was just such a creep."

"Creep, how?"

You sighed and squeezed his hand again, but he wasn't sure if it was for your sake or you were trying to calm him down since he was sure his anger was obvious.

"It doesn't matter-

"Of course it matters, you're trying to find a home for you and your kid and some guy is making you feel uncomfortable in the space you might end up living-"

"-well I'm not going to live there, so. Doesn't matter," you say stubbornly and Sukuna hums but doesn't argue.

It's clear this is weighing on you, and while Sukuna has no intention of you moving out, unless it's him along with you, he figures this is a two birds one stone situation. Because fuck him if he was going to let you wander around the city being harassed by some dumb fucks who thought they could take advantage of a single mom.

"Are you seeing any other places," he asked and you bit your lip.

"Well, there was this one other place but after today I'm not sure-"

"Let me go with you," he said and you looked up at him and well, with the tears just beginning to fill your eyes and the little glimmer of hope he could see peaking out, how could he do anything but assure you. "Let me go with you and you can look around the place without worrying about anyone bothering you. Besides, it would make me feel better if I could scope out the place you and Bug might be moving to. I want to make sure you'll be safe."

Of course, you two would be safe because you would be with him but whatever got him to the showing.

"What about Bug?"

"Yuuji can watch her. He's been dying to babysit since he met her."

This was true. Sukuna's brother was suspicious, rightfully, of Sukuna and his intentions towards you, but Bug's cuteness was a great distraction whenever the three of them were together.

"Okay, okay. Tomorrow, could he watch her tomorrow?"

"Let me call, him. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, okay?"

You nodded and Bug started calling for you both. You went over to give your toddler the attention she clearly wanted while Sukuna finished the dishes and thought over how he would handle this situation tomorrow.

-------------------------------------------

The next day, Yuuji showed up bright and early with the two idiots that were always with him these days. Sukuna rather liked the Fushiguro kid but the woman that was always with him still got on his last damn nerve. Her and Yuuji together were a threat to decency laws and his fucking eardrums.

"Morning! Where is my precious baby girl," Yuuji cooed stepping in as if he still lived there as Fushiguro gave him a quick nod and Kugisaki walked in without even a hello.

"She's not your baby," Sukuna said, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

"Well, she isn't your baby either, so."

Before Sukuna could literally murder his brother, you came out with Bug on your hip.

"Uji!!" Your daughter loved Yuuji and you put her down so she could run over and greet her favorite uncle.

"Thank you so much for watching her," you said grabbing your purse off the counter. "Are these your friends from school?"

The two freeloaders introduced themselves while Yuuji started flying your daughter around like he was a plane. At least your daughter would be tired by the time you two got back.

"Let's get going, we got to get there by nine," Sukuna said, putting his hand on the small of your back and directing you towards the door. There were several loud calls of good-bye and good lucks as you two shut the door and made your way to the car.

When you get to the apartment, the super is waiting at the front door of the building. Sukuna sees him shoot you a smarmy grin that abruptly drops off when he takes Sukuna in.

"Good morning miss, I wasn't aware you were bringing your...."

"Partner," Sukuna states firmly and holds out his hand. "Pleasure," he says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You only look on in amusement as the fucker shakes his hand and then turns his eyes back on you, much more subdued than he'd been at first.

"Right, so the apartment is on the fourth floor. A walk-up but good way to stay in shape..."

He drones on as you and Sukuna follow behind.

"You cannot carry a stroller up four flights of stairs," he says in a tone that the super can definitely hear. "Bug also can't walk up four flights of stairs, especially after a whole day of daycare. Besides these stairs look like they might crumble and drop you to the fucking basement at any second." You smack his arm and the super looks pissed off until Sukuna stomps on a particularly wobbly stair for emphasis and he looks a little nervous. No way he was letting Bug walk up this deathtrap.

He keeps a running commentary of everything he sees, none of it good on the way to the apartment. The cracks in the ceiling, the chipped the paint, the flickering light on the third floor stairwell that makes him feel like they stepped into an 80's slasher flick. On and on he goes and he doesn't stop once they're in the shithole apartment itself.

A one bedroom, not nearly enough space for two, definitely not three which makes him even more irritated at the fact he clearly hadn't factored in at all to the choice in apartment.

He's in the middle of guessing outloud if the shower head would fall on top of you in the first week or the second when you snap.

"I know it's a piece of shit, Sukuna. I'm not an idiot, I'm desperate." You are more irritated than he's ever seen and the fucking creep of a super shoots him a smirk before Sukuna turns the full force of his glare on him. The man mumbles out something about giving them time to take in the space and leaves them alone, the door closing firmly in his haste.

"I don't think you're an idiot," Sukuna says, more calm than he feels because he definitely feels a type of way about all of this. "I just don't think this place is right for you or Bug. Do you expect me to apologize for caring?"

"Is that what this is? You come here to help me and all you've done is shit on the apartment and scare that poor man half to death."

"That poor man was fucking makes eyes at you until he saw me behind you."

"I know, but he got the point when you squeezed his hand so tight I think one of his knuckles popped!"

Sukuna snorted at that and even you seemed a little amused. You sighed and leaned against the wall behind you.

"I can't live with you forever Sukuna, we need a home."

Sukuna wanted to scream, to shake you and say that he was your home. Home for both of you but he knew you weren't ready to hear it and that if he misstepped you might end up living somewhere that seemed a strong breeze away from collapse.

"It's not forever," he finally said and this was true. You would need a new place soon, just not this place. "When I say I don't mind, I mean that I like having the two of you with me." You seemed a little surprised by this admission and Sukuna weighs his next words carefully.

"You're my friend and I care about you even if I have an unconventional way of showing you." You scoff and Sukuna presses on, he can see you softening. "Just wait a little longer. This place isn't good enough for the two of you but another place might be. I'd rather you stay with me longer and find the right place instead of rushing and choosing somewhere shitty because you think you're putting me out or something."

"What guy wants some mom and her kid crashing with him for months on end," you ask and you seem almost genuinely curious.

"You're not some mom, you're you and I happen to really like that kid." You smile and Sukuna knows he's got you. "I mean as we speak she's probably putting Yuuji and his loser friends through the ringer and that's reason enough to keep her around."

"You think anything will be broken by the time we get home," you ask and he feels the clump of blood and flesh that makes up his heart squeeze just a little tighter. Home.

"Oh, definitely but that's why we're not paying them for their services." You laugh and Sukuna walks a little closer to you. You watch him, a little confused but he thinks he sees some anticipation too as he closes in on your space and puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in and he knows he's not making it up that your eyelids flutter as he gets closer.

It's tempting but when Sukuna kisses you for the first time, it's not going to be in a place like this while some scumbag is probably listening through the door.

"Let's go home," he says and he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek. You'd done the same to him many times by now and he can see the appeal when he hears your sharp intake of breath and finds himself surrounded by the smell of your shampoo.

While your quest to find an apartment was unsuccessful, Sukuna thinks that important progress was made today. It fills him with a sense of contentment that manages to sustain him even as the two of you come home to an apartment overflowing with chaos and a spiderweb of cracks across his tv.

When he goes to kick Yuuji's ass, Bug makes sure to lend her support to her poor uncle by clinging to Sukuna's leg and laughing while the two men roll around on the floor to your amusement.

Like he would ever let you leave this.

also people have been suggesting that I make a masterlist or create some sort of tags and while I know what these are(kind of), I'm also not sure the specifics so any advice on how to make this all easier to find would be appreciated! I've been creeping on tumblr for literally over a decade but never written like this before.

[weakformingyu]

The very first night | L.M.

Pairing: Lee Know x afab!reader

Summary: after a few months of dating Minho, you two finally have your very first night.

Genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers

Words count: ± 3,200

THIS ONE AND ALL MY CONTENTS ARE +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

If you like my content don't forget to ✨reblog✨

Warnings: virgin!Minho, virgin!reader, very sloppy and eager sex, unprotected piv(wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral(F receiving), biting(I think that's all)

A/N: I was reading this fic by @moonlinos and had this thought: "what would be like to have your first time with inexperienced bf Minho" and it came out like this 🥺 I'd like to tell @/moonlinos that I just found out about your blog and your writing is amazing, you're really an inspiration 🫶🏻

You met Minho on your first day of college, you were lost in the campus trying to find the orientation room when you bumped into someone, letting your books and bag fall to the floor.

It was your fault, you were looking around and didn't see the man coming in your direction. You apologized right away, more preoccupied with picking up your things rather than looking in his face but he didn't answer you, waiting for you to properly look him in the eyes.

To say that you two hit it off instantly when your eyes met his, it's an understatement. You even blinked a few times making sure you weren't dreaming. That guy was the prettiest man you have ever seen and it's not even an exaggeration. He was wearing a light pink sweater with a white dress shirt below, dark blue jeans and all stars. It was an outfit that would look average in anyone else but it looked like a masterpiece in him.

You didn't want to let him go so in the spur of the moment, you asked if he knew where to find the orientation for your major, just to find out he was also going there. After that day you two got closer like it was nothing, you were never good at making friends but it seemed so natural with him, like it just happened you didn't have to put a lot of effort into it.

You first realized your feelings for him when he told you he had a date coming up. You felt like throwing up and the ache on your chest just made the whole situation more excruciating.

You avoided him for a week after that, trying to convince yourself that you weren't in love with him or at least that you could pretend not to be in love with him.

When he showed up at your dorm in the middle of the night looking extremely tired, eye bags under his eyes and hair a mess, he inquired why you were being like that and you suddenly didn't want to pretend anymore. You decided in the split of a second that it was worth it to confess to him, so you did.

He blinked once, twice and for a third time, not letting out a single word, making you suddenly regret everything that you said to him. What if he wanted to end your friendship? You don't think you could handle losing him as your friend too.

But in an unexpected turn of events he stepped close to you, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you.

“I thought you didn't like me back”, he whispered after pulling away, breathless. “That's why I was trying to move on”

You felt relief wash all over you, so he liked you back it seems.

After months of dating, you still hadn't gone beyond kissing and some light touching. You always let things flow in your relationship, knowing that you two would give the next step when you were ready. And it was sooner than you expected.

The end of the semester had arrived, finals were finally over and you could take a deep breath. You and Minho would meet in the cafe in front of the college gates, grab some coffee and go back to his apartment to watch some movies and cuddle. His roommates would be out tonight partying to celebrate the end of the semester and the apartment would be just yours.

“Fried chicken or pizza?” He asks, scrolling on his phone while selecting something to order.

“Fried chicken?” You ask back, making him glare at you. He hates how indecisive you are so he always tries to give you few options.

“Ordered”, he tells you.

“I'm gonna take a shower”, you get up going to the bathroom.

Your bath is a bit longer than usual, you are not in a hurry today since you can stay up all night and sleep all day tomorrow but when you open your eyes there's a surprise in the wall next to you.

“Minho!” You yell, screaming like you just saw a ghost. You grab a towel and jump to the other side of the bathroom, watching as your boyfriend swings the door open, worry in his face.

When he looks at you and sees you are safe and sound, he scowls.

“What is it?” He rushes you, impatiently.

You point out in the bathroom, tears in your eyes.

“Did you make all this scandal because of a cockroach?” He asks, huffing but goes after it and kills it for you.

“You know I hate them”, you make a disgusted face. “They are gross”

He sighs, just now paying attention to you and noticing that you have only a towel covering you. You only remember that fact when his cheeks and ears turn pink and you look down, instantly covering your chest.

“Don't look!” You whine, hiding behind the door.

“Okay! Okay!” He puts his hands up in surrender, turning around and closing the door.

What follows after that is an awkward atmosphere, you are boyfriend and girlfriend but never have seen each other naked. You know it's something that is certain to happen but you never really discussed much about it.

You decide to address the issue when you are already on your second glass of soju. You look at him challengingly, narrowing your eyes.

“I think I should see you without a shirt since you have seen me too”, you tell him. It's not what you wanted to say, you wanted to ask if he ever thought about your first time but the moment you were going to say it you chickened out.

“I haven't seen you without a shirt though”, he says, “you were covered by a towel”

“But that's the equivalent of me being naked in front of you, so now you have to pay me back”, you roll out your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. You're not drunk enough to be doing that but you're definitely embarrassed enough to be doing that.

Minho sighs, knowing you won't drop it. So he puts his hands on the collar of his shirt, pulling it off, revealing his abs.

You can feel your cheeks burning, you have never seen him without a shirt and the only thing that comes to your mind to describe him is: tempting.

You gulped down, feeling a strange pool form in your panties, you can feel it getting soaked.

“I think now it's your time to pay me back”, he raises a brow, making you bite nervously on your bottom lip.

“I'm not wearing a bra”, you whisper, feeling your heart beat faster at each passing second.

“I wasn't either”, he jokes, making you punch him in the arm. When Minho doesn't look away, staring at you intensely, you realize he's being serious about that so you gather all the courage you have, grabbing the rem of your — well, it's actually his, shirt and pulling it off, letting it fall down to the ground as you become completely mesmerized by the look on his face.

Minho has his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, lust emanating out of him. You can see his chest rise and fall at a fast pace.

“Can… Can I touch you?” He asks, looking into your eyes desperately and you nod, watching as he comes closer, cupping your breasts with both of his hands. He's on his knees in front of you, kneading on the soft flesh of your chest. Minho pinches your nipple, groaning when you let a moan escape. He's sure it's the prettiest sound he has ever listened to.

He leans over you, taking your lips into his. The way he kisses you stays the same, calm and gentle. He trails wet kisses down your jaw, to your neck, seizing the opportunity to mark you with his teeth, something he loves to do and that's the closest he has ever been to your chest until today. He goes down tracing kisses till he's in front of your breasts, Minho kisses the hill between them and attaches his mouth to the right one, still massaging the left one, pinching the bud eventually because likes to hear you whimper and sigh.

Your hands go to his hair, pressing him against your chest. You have your eyes closed shut, probably an unflattering face of pure pleasure but you really don't care. Minho sucks at your other breast before going down, trailing wet kisses down your stomach.

You're embarrassed, no one has ever seen you so vulnerable like that and you really want to have him go down on you but you're a bit scared since your friends always talk about how guys find it a hassle to go down on girls. You know Minho is not an asshole, he won't want you to do the same to him if he can't pleasure you first.

“Can I?” He asks when he notices your hesitancy, his fingers are hooked at the waistband of your sweats, playing with the elastic while you decide if you'll let him continue.

“You don't have to feel obligated”, you bite on your bottom lip, not very sure on what to do next.

“I don't, I really want to do it”, he says, but seeing as you don't look like you believe him, he chuckles. “Chan said he really enjoys going down on his girlfriend, I wanted to try it since we started dating but didn't know how to ask”, you can see his ears turning a dark shade of red, making your heart beat faster.

You nod, feeling more nervous than before.

“Can we kiss a little bit more?” You ask and he nods frantically.

“We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready”, he says, hovering over you and kissing your neck.

“I'm ready”, you cup his face, making him look at you. “I'm just nervous”, you chuckle awkwardly.

“It's fine”, he gives you a peek on the lips. “Should we move to the bed?” He asks and you nod, getting up as Minho collects your things and his, following you to his bedroom.

It takes you half an hour of making out to grab Minho's hand and pull it down to your core, you lift the waistband of your sweats and panties so his hand can find your soaked pussy. He slides one of his fingers between your folds gathering your slick and pressing it on your clit.

“Is it good like this?” He asks, even though your face should give it in right away that he's pleasuring you.

“Yes, please don't stop”, you put your hands on his arms, digging your nails on his skin. Minho chuckles, doing what you asked but also adding another finger, making you open your eyes in an instant to stare at him with wide eyes. “Oh”, it's the only thing you can let out when you feel the knot forming on your lower stomach.

He kisses you, turning the experience into something much more deeper. By the way he kisses you, no longer the calm and gentle but now an eager and hungry kiss, you can feel how urgent he's feeling, how much he wants you and that's enough to make you come on his fingers.

You take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes just to witness your boyfriend putting his fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. You gulp, feeling a burn run through your body.

“Can I go down on you now?” He asks, eyeing you eagerly and you nod, still too dazed by your orgasm.

Minho doesn't lose time, moving to your bottom part and pulling off your pants and underwear with him. He looks at your pussy enamored, like you're the prettiest creature he has ever seen and that makes you embarrassed, moving your hands to cover yourself but your boyfriend shakes his head, preventing you from continuing.

“Don't cover yourself. You're so beautiful, I have no words to describe it”, he tells you, eyes so sincere you can't even tease him about lying.

You nod once more, laying down comfortably as he trails kisses up your legs. Minho kisses your ankles, then your calves. He follows the path to your knees, kissing the inside of each and then going to your thighs, doing the same thing. When he leans down on your core, you hold your breath, feeling his hitting on your skin. You have goosebumps all over your body when he kisses your clit, making you sigh and let go.

Minho licks a huge strip between your folds, gathering all the juice he can get on his tongue, enjoying your taste. You moan loudly, earning a glance from him, he was so concentrated by his own pleasure on feeling your pussy on his mouth that he forgot to check what was your reaction and he's glad to find that you're enjoying yourself, hands flying to his hair as you pull him more into your cunt. He keeps licking your clit, sucking and even biting just to make you shudder glaring at him. He chuckles every time, making the vibrations stimulate you even more.

Minho puts on a finger, testing the water to see how you react, he puts on another one when you look unbothered by just one, earning a reaction from you as you whine and moan. You can feel your second orgasm of the night being ripped out of you, as he intensifies his sucking on your clit and his fingers thrusting inside you.

You let out the louder couple of moans of the night, holding onto the sheets for dear life as you tremble and arch your back in pleasure. You're absolutely fucked out and have no idea how Minho can keep going, his hair is a mess and his lips are swollen, his face is covered on your juice from his mouth until his chin. When he kisses you again, you can feel your own taste on his tongue, making you groan.

You can feel his hardness pressing against your leg. He still has his pants on looking painfully tight.

“You wanna keep going?” He asks and you nod, biting on your lip. “I think Chan has some condoms stocked, I'm gonna take a look”, he starts moving out of the bed but you hold his wrist, pulling him back to you.

“I'm on the pill”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I’ve been taking it since we started dating”, you prop yourself up, leaning on your elbows as you kiss him, “wanna feel you”, you say, making his breath hitch and his face turns red.

He nods, blinking a few times before leaning over to kiss you once more. He gets up quickly, taking off the rest of his clothes and in a second his body hovers over yours as he positions himself between your legs, his cock teasing your entrance carefully.

“If it hurts, tell me”, he checks with you for the last time and you nod. He starts pushing his cock inside you, your hands are holding him by the shoulders, digging your nails on him but he doesn't seem to mind.

He closes his eyes briefly, feeling your velvet walls squeezing him so much it's hard to keep going. Minho stops when he hears you sniff, opening his eyes just to find your eyes full of tears and trembling lips.

“Am I hurting you? You should say it if I am”, he scolds you gently, something only he can do.

“The first time is supposed to hurt”, you explain.

“But I can do something to make it hurt less if you tell me what you're feeling”, he kisses your forehead, having all the care to not move inside you.

“You're already making it so much more comfortable”, you smile, kissing his nose.

“Maybe you should be on top, that way you can have the control”, he tells you and you ponder for a minute, nodding.

He pulls out of you, making you whine to the sudden loss, making you feel empty. Minho chuckles, kissing you before laying down to watch you be the one to come on top of him.

You grab his cock, position it in your entrance and push it in. You're much more brave than him, Minho thinks, but also you're the one who knows how much pain you can handle so it's only right for you to have the control — at least on your first time.

You sink down on his cock slowly, making him grab the sheets rather than your hips, too afraid to put too much pressure on you and hurt you. Your face tells him you're in pain, but he knows there's not much he can do about it other than soothe you. So he caresses your back with one hand and your face with the other, sliding his hands to your breasts and kneading at them so you can at least relax a bit.

When you finally have all of him inside of you, you sigh, staying still for a couple of minutes. Minho feels like he can explode at any second, you're squeezing him like crazy but he doesn't want to hurry you so he waits for you to move.

You start grinding on him, rubbing your clit on his pelvic bone and trying to relax the most. After a while the pain is almost not perceptible and you start riding him at a fast pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, Minho says, finally grabbing at your hips to pull you down on him.

You can't really form coherent sentences, so the chant of “ah-ah-ah” followed by your kisses on him and you marking his chest is the biggest form of communication you can manage at the moment.

Minho thinks you're the prettiest person he has ever seen, he thought that the moment your eyes lock for the first time and he'll think that until you two are too old to remember what you ate the day before.

When he feels like he's about to cum, he warns you and you nod to let him know you understand but keeps sinking down on him even deeper. He paints your walls white while trembling, his bottom lip stuck between his bunny teeth as he holds your hips with such strength that you know it's gonna bruise. But you don't mind, not at all.

You didn't cum this time, it wasn't as painful as it could be but still painful enough to not edge you.

“I'm sorry you didn't finish”, he pouts as you pull out of him and snuggle yourself in his arms.

“You made me come twice”, you chuckle, making him smile before kissing the top of your head.

“But I wanted to do it a third time”, he huffs.

“We have all the time in the world”, you tell him, resting your chin on his chest as you watch him grin.

“Yes, now you're mine forever”, he giggles to your widened eyes.

“Should I be worried?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“You were already mine from the start, you just didn't know it yet”, he kisses you, pulling away just to stare at you for a few seconds. “I love you”, he confesses and you feel your cheeks burning.

“I love you too”, you say, closing the distance between the two of you and kissing him again.

[hoseoksluna]

PRACTICE | jjk

pairing: dom!jungkook x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.9k

summary: you make jungkook proud by practicing what he taught you.

warnings: jungkook smiling and being all dominant!!!, also manly as fuck, use of his korean name cuz it's hot, masturbation, reader is horny and just a girl!!, biker mask (gasp), edging, orgasm denial, oral sex (f. receiving), dom/sub dynamics, squirting, desperation, porn, use of a sex toy, brief nipple play, spanking, bratty behavior <3, degradation, praise, the beauty of cumming together, mentions of sex, aftercare

note: it's entirely jungkook's fault that i wrote this bc he made me h word. i hope you enjoy the very first of the many smutty one shots i'm planning to write!! i had the time of my life writing this, imagining 3D!jungkook cuz he's just so delicious there. my weakness. fuck my life!! pls let me know what you think <3 like and comment (reblogs r very useful but i won't pressure u angel). love you!!

side note: i rly fucking miss jungkook. that's all. byebye

Stars fill your vision as your hand works wonders between the softness of your legs. You are fucked. Oh so deliciously, majestically and colossally fucked. And you whimper once the wave of that pleasure you burn for unfolds within your body. Arch your back. Roll your hips. Huff and puff until you near your breaking point. Then you lift your hand. 

The surge ebbs away and you sink your teeth into your puffy bottom lip, desperation scorching each and every perimeter of your skin.

You enjoy this. The smug on your face couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried. You've been going at this for a dozen of minutes, sitting on your dark green couch with your legs spread, one hand rubbing circles on your needy bundle of nerves, the other gripping your phone with all its might, how it hasn’t cramped yet is beyond you, as it plays a dirty porn that does very little to quench your thirst. Your closest friend for the time being, have been ‘for the time being’ for much longer than you care to admit, a small pink vibrator Pinkie, keeps you company beside you while you swallow every grunt and whimper the couple in the video makes. It's turned off, however. Resting in the shadow of the threatening calamite that your shaking thighs are. You can't edge yourself with it when you're this fucked, so deeply lost in the rosy maze of lust. You would have to keep the head on your clit for merely a second, otherwise you'd be coming, and you'd be coming fast but not very hard. And where’s the fun in that? It still keeps you thirsty, your insides begging you again and again for another hit of dopamine, for just one drop of cum. Well, your pussy mainly.

It’s a persistent problem for you. You get horny, you touch yourself and you come under two minutes or less. The hit so small in quantity, so weak in quality that you inescapably need more than one round to be satisfied. The situation is even more problematic when you get down to it with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter much when you’re on the receiving end; you enjoy yourself, you look forward to his dick splitting you open, so it just cuts time. Although it does matter when he fucks you like the man he is. You clamp down on him, and he comes as fast as you do. You can’t help it. You’re so enamored with him, with his masculinity and his dominance, it burns your body alive. Who are you to tell your body no? It’s impossible. He’s impossible, and absolutely irresistible. Though you wish you could get lost in the pleasure, and you truly do each time you have sex, and it gets unfairly swept away from you. You’re just a thirsty girl. This unjust treatment pisses you off.

You opened up to your boyfriend about this and he laughed in your face, stroking your cheek. Told you it’s what he loves about you and you just rolled your eyes, dismissing it. Then he took your hand and sat you down again, offering you a solution that changed your life. For the worst at first, for the better the more you did it.

He suggested you try edging yourself when you play with your pussy. He showed you the ropes the first time, guiding you through a long process of denied orgasms, and you wanted to strangle him. You had to lift your hand when he said so, otherwise you were getting spanked. The joke was on him because you enjoyed the harsh sting, the roughness of his palm on your skin. But then it was him who was laughing when he pinned your arms above your head and confiscated your pleasure. You squirmed. Whined. Waited. Then he fingered you and you came so hard you saw stars, the orgasm just kept going and going. You were satisfied after one round. Problem fixed.

“Practice it until your body learns,” he had told you and you almost came again.

What a man.

The memory of this teaching lesson is what got you thirsty right now, actually. 

You pay attention to the way the guy in the video squishes the tits of the lucky girl in the video and fucks them with his cock. You moan, lowering your fingers to your clit again and starting a series of slow circles. Your fingers are slippery from your leaking essence and the sweat on your folds from your marvelous torment, and it turns you on even more. You feel your orgasm coming, despite your pace, and you eat your fist in exasperation. Should you say fuck it and finally make yourself come? You hear the order uttered by your boyfriend in the back of your head, remember how long he told you to edge for that one time, and you want to make him proud (you do!), but then the girl licks at the slit of his cock and you clench around nothing. You want that so bad and you groan, anger and desperation creating something so sinful, so unhinged inside of you.

Resuming your movement on your bud, you pick up the pace because fuck it, you can’t take it anymore. The pressure, the anticipation of chasing after what you desire is so sweet and it fills you with energy and giddiness. Fuck jogging, now you're sprinting, clenching your muscles, nearing closer and closer to the finish line. You lift your knees, riding your hand, moans spilling from your mouth. You'd come right on the spot if it wasn't for the ding of a sudden text message snapping you out of your daze.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Fuck, did you not turn on 'do not disturb'?

koo: I'm here

You stare at the notification in disbelief. Beneath it, the guy is fucking the girl's throat. You screech, burying your face in your hands. What is your boyfriend doing here so early? You aren't supposed to see each other until later tonight, or are you forgetting something? Your mind is spinning, another denied orgasm taking a toll on you. Sighing, you slip your legs into your panties and your plush pajama pants, your feet finding their comfort in your fluffy slippers. Since he's here, he's gonna make himself extremely useful, you decide, putting on your warm bathrobe with Mickey Mouse on it and grabbing your keys.

As you descend the stairs from your apartment, the sticky wetness between your legs makes you uncomfortable. Your eyebrows furrow in anger. Does a girl really have to suffer in order to reach a mind-blowing orgasm these days? You scoff to yourself, sinking your key into the lock of the door to the main building. The key doesn't budge, though, and it almost makes you punch that fucking door. The lock has been sporadically working and not working for months, hence why the door needs to stay locked properly at all times, and nobody has so far taken the time to call someone to repair it. You kick the door with your knee and you hear a laugh behind it. You recognize it belongs to your boyfriend and you smile to yourself, finding the sweet sound stupidly cute. Your hand reaches for the key again and you turn it. To your surprise, the lock doesn't fuck around and actually lets you see your boyfriend.

Jeongguk is standing beside his motorcycle, black helmet under his armpit. Your eyes widen when they discover his face is hidden under a biker mask of the same color. You haven’t seen him with his bike in quite some while. He prefers to drive you around in his car lately. It’s winter after all. He keeps you warm, sneaks his fingers between your legs, rubs your pussy through your jeans to tease you because he likes it when you’re needy for the rest of the evening. Oh, and you eat there so icicles don’t hang from your hands. Food, that is. You get it.

It’s a wonderful surprise, nonetheless. Only his orbs and eyebrows are visible, his pouty mouth creates shapes on the mask that almost causes you to see stars again. Yeah, you think you could come like this, staring at his tall figure dressed in a puffer jacket and gray baggy jeans laying dangerously low on his hips. Even though you know how big his dick is, the size of them makes him appear even bigger and you salivate. Your pussy drools, too. You're about to get on your knees right now, you don't care.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to fix that fucking lock myself," Jeongguk remarks.

Oh, fuck. He's so manly.

Just one suck. Fuck, please. Just one.

You're going to scrape your fucking knees on the ground for everyone to see, you genuinely don't care. He deserves it for looking like that, for acting like such a man.

Your clit gains a heartbeat (again) and you blink up at him, desperation once again unfurling its flames under your skin. You smile behind the pain, finding the whole situation completely ridiculous now.

"I'd be grateful," you purr and Jeongguk walks towards you, smiling like the little shit he is, helmet still under his armpit. You lift the hem of his mask to reveal his delicious lips, piercing-less. You kiss him, moonstruck. "I'm tired of this shitty lock."

Jeongguk nods. "Noted." Then he kisses you again. "It was funny how you kicked it."

You laugh. He takes off the mask entirely and you both walk up the stairs to your apartment, though a pang of disappointment hangs onto your heart. You wish he kept the mask on. It was nonsensically hot to you. A lightbulb flares to life in your mind abruptly and you hide your smirk beneath the curtain of your hair.

Yeah, you’re going to make him wear it as you suck him dry.

Your giddiness extends to another level and you hurriedly walk up the rest of the stairs to your apartment, your butt jiggling under your thick robe.

Jeongguk walks in like he owns the place. He sets his helmet on the kitchen island and his mask right beside it. You watch as he empties out his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys, a pack of cigarettes and a purple lighter. Leaning over, he hangs his winter jacket on one of the barstools. His back muscles ripple under his oversized black T-shirt with each movement of his arms. What steals your attention, however, is the sliver of skin that he unwittingly lets you see as he fixes his jeans to rest a little higher on his hips. 

White Calvins. 

Oh, yes. 

The dip of his spine on his lower back.

You lick your lips.

The smallness of his waist that grows into such a vulgar broadness of his shoulders. 

Fuck, you do everything you can to not bite onto your finger; instead you opt to hide your drool beneath your hand as you continue to wait behind him, tracing your lower lip with the acrylic nail on your thumb, diabolical with your stand and your plan. Crossed arms, needy pussy and all.

What a man.

What a fucking man.

You squeeze your thighs together.

When he turns away from the kitchen, you leap to the counter. You snatch the mask and gaze at it lovingly. Such an innocent thing, and it made you this hot and bothered. You shake your head at the bizarreness of it all, but your smile remains.

"What the fuck were you doing here?"

You gasp at the sternness in his tone, hiding the mask under your armpit similarly like he did with his helmet downstairs. You don't understand where his abrupt austerity stems from, but it makes your legs wobbly, so much that you bump into him as you hurry to see what he sees, grabbing his arm as if to say sorry. And then your heart drops.

A round wet spot adorns your dark green couch, where you sat and pleasured yourself before he came. Your best friend Pinkie, sticky and lifeless, almost beams at you in mischief. A smile of your own begins to quiver on your lips before you burst into giggles, a tiny amount of shyness painting your cheeks with rosiness.

“I was practicing?” you answer truthfully, lilting your voice a little bit.

Jeongguk closes his eyes at your words, his lips forming a thin line. Hangs his head. Slouches in your grip. It is a stark contrast to how he entered your apartment. His breath quickens and you watch the raise and the fall of his chest. You realize this means only one thing.

"Are you crazy?" Jeongguk says, eyes still closed. "Do you even realize what you've just done to me?"

He finally looks at you and your heart drops further down your belly. Fire splashes around in his eyes, akin to yours. He straightens his posture, turning his body to face you. Feet spread apart, he crosses his arms across his chest. Veins prominent, muscles like strings oscillating on his forearm as he taps his fingers on his elbow.

Your weakness.

Fuck.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"And what's this?" He points to what you stole from him. He doesn't take it from you.

You suddenly remember your plan. Being so absorbed in his masculine energy, you forgot everything. Even your own name. 

"Well, I had this idea," you start.

He hums in interest. Butterflies break havoc in your stomach.

"And what idea was that?" He cocks his head to the side, studying you.

You started, but you don't think you can finish. Not when you're so wet that you can feel your slick trickle out of the confines of your thin panties. Not when his stance makes you feel like you did something very bad and the next word that comes out of your mouth decides your punishment. Not when it thrills you this much.

Swallowing dryly, you avert your gaze. Do you say it or do you play dumb? Sweat prickles at the back of your neck, eyes falling to his crotch. Those cursed fucking jeans do a poor job of hiding his growing member and you tremble, itching to sink onto the hardwood floor, itching to palm him through the harsh fabric just to hear him hiss through his teeth. The impulse to do it, to simply be a brat and do what you want while he stares you down, fills your every vein, but you know better. Once you hit a nerve, Jeongguk doesn’t let you cum (at all) and you can’t sit on your bottom for a week. You can’t afford that right now.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You need your relief, and you need it desperately. You will behave if it means you’ll receive it from him.

"I was thinking," you mutter, fluttering your eyelashes open. “You could put this on while I make you feel good."

Nodding once, Jeongguk hums again. You feel the deep vibrations of his voice coursing down your body, starting from your cheeks. They warm them and paint them in pink, then they continue over the swell of your chest, leaving behind little pearls of sweat, until they reach your cunt. There they strengthen the pulse of your needy bud and you can’t take it anymore. You sigh audibly, hoping it prompts your boyfriend to do something. 

“Make me feel good how?” he questions you.

You look up at him. His eyes are lowered into slits, woozy from arousal. You truly did turn him on with the mere evidence of your self-indulgence. You buzz from this achievement, a puckish smirk appearing on your mouth. 

Jeongguk pries the mask away from your hold, keeps it in his grasp and with his other hand, he unravels the knot of your robe with his fingers, sliding it off your shoulders. He cocks his eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer.

Fuck it, you’re giving it your all. Anything to get fucked in the way you want, in the way you know he can give it to you.

“I get on my knees for you. Play with your tip, take you as far as I can until I choke on it, then I suck on your—“

He grabs your chin harshly and raises it to his level. That’s enough, he said with that gesture and you leak down your thighs. No matter how strongly the words, ‘can I finish my fucking sentence’ hangs off the top of your tongue, you remain quiet. Obedient.

He cups your pussy through your pajama pants with his other hand, inching closer to you until his figure swallows you. His soft moan reaches your ear once he discovers how slippery your pussy is against your silky underwear and your stomach flips. You, on the other hand, don’t feel much where you need him due to the thickness of the material. It adds to your frustration quite plenty, though. This what you get for being good? 

Inhaling deeply, he levels his eyesight with yours. “How many times did you come, hm?”

Your breath hitches and you lower your eyes, shyness caused from his dominance taking every bit of confidence you had left. His words blaze your insides—he knows you so well. He knows how obsessed you’ve become with playing with yourself ever since he told you to practice. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The latter being more frequent, hence why you exerted yourself today. He knows this. For some reason it makes this moment even more intimate and stimulating for you. But you don’t let him know that. 

“What makes you think I lost this time?” you retort, the brattiness slipping through before you could control it.

His fingers aren’t doing nearly enough to give you the relief you seek and you whine, grinding your hips against his curious fingers. Much to your dismay, he still keeps his pressure light. Pretends to be blind to your desperation. You let out a huff of air, hooking your thumbs beneath the waistband of your pants, anger fueling you on.

You barely manage to pull it down before Jeongguk turns you around. He locks your arms in his grasp from behind, tugs the pants beneath the swell of your ass and smacks your cheek, leaving a rippling effect in its wake. He then grabs your face from behind to make you look at him. 

“Did I fucking ask you to take ‘em off?”

You’d come on the spot if you could. But you’re still angry.

“No, I asked you a simple question,” Jeongguk continues. “And I expect you to answer.”

You bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows. “Jeongguk, I’m so wet there’s a fucking puddle in my panties. I can’t take it anymore. Please, I need to come.”

Jeongguk raises his at your answer and hums lowly, grinding his hips into your ass and arching your back even further in this position. You moan distinctly at the feeling of his member, engorged and hard. 

Jeongguk lets go of your arms and presses you against him fully, lowering his hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, the other around your middle. You love it like this the most, cocooned in his embrace from behind—you can’t see him, but you can feel him, you can feel the firmness of his touch, the solidness of his body, and you know he’s there. 

“How many times?” he asks once again, more gently this time, lips tracing the shape of your ear. He rubs your belly to soothe you and you close your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A smile, a mischievous one, much like the one your best friend Pinkie had, threatens to appear on your lips. He has turned into a soft dom for you and it makes you weak. So much that all you want to do right now is give him pleasure.

You begin to rotate your hips against him and he hisses, cursing under his breath. Yes, that’s precisely what you wanted to hear. You put more pressure into your movement and he slides your hand down your mound to stop you, his tongue coming to play with your ear.  Fuck, okay. You listen, transferring your teasing elsewhere.

“Zero,” you finally answer, figuring he deserves the reward.

Jeongguk grabs your shoulders and turns you around, pinching his eyebrows together. “Don’t believe you. There’s no fucking way you’d leave it wet like that without coming at least three—“

“I was about to come before you so rudely interrupted me.”

His eyes darken and you realize you fucked up.

He takes his hands off of you and starts walking, causing you to walk backwards to your couch. 

“My apologies.” He pushes you to sit down on the soiled spot, taking a seat right in front of you on the coffee table. “Don’t let me interrupt you any further. Please“—He hooks his fingers under your pajama pants along with your underwear and takes it off in one go—“continue. Make yourself come.”

You gulp. Fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing you ever heard.

He scoots closer to you on the coffee table and extends your legs over his. You ogle him. The manspread, the tent in his pants, the serious look on his face. You slip your hand to your clit and start rubbing, your eyes closing as pleasure floods you. Finally. You moan, and you moan loudly. 

“Nuh-uh.”

You sigh before you open your eyes. There he goes, interrupting you again. A familiar buzzing fills your ears. 

You startle as the highest setting tickles your hand in an uncomfortable way. Jeongguk, wearing the mask now, wraps your hand around the vibrator and guides it to your clit, interlacing his fingers with yours in the process. Fuck, he did not just do that. You’re moaning before it even reaches you, your walls clenching around nothing.

“There you go,” he lifts his intense gaze from your pussy to your eyes. “Now come.”

And you do.

You squirt all over your intertwined hands, squirming uncontrollably while holding eye contact with him until he controls you, sliding his other free hand to your waist to hold you down. He moves the vibrator to your slit to give your puffy clit a break, collecting your juices. Then, another wave comes: Jeongguk slips the head back to your clit and presses down hard before quickly fixing a steady rhythm of going up and down. You’re just holding it, holding his hand. Taking the pleasure he gives you. Convulsing, clenching and screaming, coming so hard your eyes roll back—stars finally coming to stay.

Then, you’re pushing him away when overstimulation perfuses your body with a blunt pain. You close your legs. You thrash with yourself. But he’s stronger. The hand that was on your waist lifts up your bralette and uncovers your tits. The same fingers plunge into your mouth and you suck on them, calming down, earning an appreciative hum from him. He flicks your nipple, touches your breast, the nub deliciously rubbing against his rough palm. Pushes your other one to the mix so he can focus on both of your nipples at once, holds them like that as they bounce in his grip. You lift your pelvis, furiously riding the wave of an upcoming orgasm that will probably take you out.

You lose the sense of time and space when you come for the third time.

You’re gushing, leaking, bursting, both hands—yours and his—dripping wet with your dewiness. You think you’re levitating, but his firm touch grounds you, and when you open your eyes, Jeongguk is breathing hard. He’s watching you thoroughly; you can’t tell what he’s thinking, features still hidden by that mask. Your mind is empty, incapable of forming one coherent thought. You’re completely brainless. Fucked out.

Jeongguk gets on his knees and leans towards you. He tears his mask off, sweat pooling at his hairline.

“How pitiful,” he smiles. “So much for practicing.”

He gives you a filthy kiss full of tongue and you roll your body against his. His chest rubs against your nipples and it sends sparks of electricity through you. 

“You wouldn’t last. Not a chance.”

You groan into his mouth. He’s so close that his musky scent is intoxicating you, his T-shirt is wet and your core is pressed against the one part of his stomach that the cloth exposed. It’s so warm and soul-stirring to you. You whine from the overstimulation of it all, especially the degradation. 

“Jeongguk, I came so hard,” you tell him, coming up for some air.

He kisses your jaw. “I know. So fucking hot.” Takes his groans and presses them in the form of kisses into all the sensitive spots of your neck. “You made yourself come this hard, I’m proud.”

You moan. So moonstruck. So enamored. So satisfied.

Jeongguk lifts his head from the crook of your neck and grins at you. You reciprocate.

“That was so good,” you whisper and bite your lip, stroking his hair back. You find you’ve broken the skin already, but you don’t mind. “So, so good.”

His eyes drop to your mouth, then at the pearls of your pleasure on your chest.

“So filthy. Need to clean you up.”

Your stomach flips. 

He laps them up, collecting them with his tongue. One at the top of your sternum, the middle of your breasts, the long dip on your stomach. Pearl after pearl, butterfly after butterly breaking havoc again in you. You’re swaying your hips before he even gets to your mound.

“Needy again? I haven’t finished here yet.”

A little, but not as desperately as before. You’re enjoying it. Feels as though you’re allowed to. And you tell him.

He smiles. Starts a series of open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh. Sighs against your skin when you play with his hair, gently scratch his scalp with your manicured nails. Rubs your wet thighs, sucking the skin and biting it. Hard and soft, the blend of it. You’re on cloud nine.

“Gonna reward you,” he announces. You suck in your stomach, biting your lip. He touches your cunt and the digits just glide. Straight to your hole that needs his cum. “For doing such a good job. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He rubs it in circles, teasing you. Watches your reaction. You throw your head back, moving your hips in tandem with the pads of his fingers. Soaked enough, he slips them into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You mewl. Sense his hot breath on your pussy. Sense him shifting in his spot erratically and you figure he’s grinding his hard cock against the couch. 

“My turn now.” 

He closes his puffy lips around your clit. Swirls the tip of his tongue around it. Merry go round, you throw your head back, enjoying the sensation. Then he puts pressure around the muscle and goes counterclockwise. Now you’re spinning, unable to stop the sounds, inter-threaded with his name, from slipping out of your mouth. Then he decides to tease you. Widens his laps of circles. Reaches your folds, makes them wetter. And it makes you feral, the waiting for the pleasure. You grip his hair, grinding into his face. His moans reach your ears again, and suddenly it’s too much. He sucks on your clit, and he sucks hard. Lifts your hips in the air and just ravages your cunt, licking up and swallowing all that you’re offering to him as he fucks his cock into the couch. 

He’s grunting, rapidly shaking his head from side to side. You’re obscenely loud. His thrusts quicken as do the skilled flicks of his tongue. It’s way too fucking much and you’re screaming, but you let him. You let him until he rams his hips for the last time, until he sucks so hard that your hearing sense leaves you for a moment, and you’re coming. And so is he. 

You don’t even know how long it takes before you fully come down, but you know one thing for sure. That when he stands up and you’re blessed with the sight of his unbuttoned jeans, his cock dripping with last drops of cum through his white (almost see-through) underwear, he deserves to be cleaned up by you just the same. 

You make grabby hands at him when he returns with wet wipes.

“What is it, baby?” He sinks to his knees in front of you, taking out the wipe to clean you properly. 

“Need you in my mouth. Please.” 

He laughs softly and you think that sound will be your demise. 

“You’re exhausted,” he tells you, wiping down your folds. “What you need is sleep.” 

You don’t have the strength to prove him wrong. You’re spent. 

He picks you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He covers you in your fluffy blanket, knowing full well you hate to be under the duvet when you’re just napping. Tucks you in. Sits beside you. Brushes your hair back. Fixes the blanket so it rests under your chin, and not over your mouth. You watch him with droopy eyes as he does it all.

“Did so well today,” he murmurs. “But no overworking yourself so much next time, arasseo?”

You nod. “We came together again.” 

He traces the dimple on your cheek caused by your contended smile. Finds himself smiling too. “That’s just how our bodies work together,” he tells you, hovering his thumb over your bloodied lip so as to not hurt you. “Can’t be helped.” 

You nod again, warmth swarming in your chest. “I love it,” you admit. “I love you.”

Jeongguk presses a kiss into your hair. “No, I love you.”

“No.”

He shushes you. “Sleep well, baby,” he strokes you. Kisses you. Pets you. Can’t get enough. Hates to leave you. “My baby, my love, my girl.” 

You hum. Sleep slinks you away to its land, smile remaining on your mouth. 

Jeongguk returns to your living room and gets some cleaning supplies ready. Breaks a sweat making your dark green couch spotless. Takes a shower. Settles beside you on the bed. Cocoons you in his arms. Looks for you in dreamland.

© 2023 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[samptlay]

♡ ⁠◍⁠• Skin That Cries Golden Tears • Chapter 1 ◍⁠

◍⁠ Summary:

It had to be by God’s will that your life had come to a short end. Why else would he allow you to get pushed off of a bridge and drown to your death, at the age of 26? Well, what should have been the end of your life when your ex killed you off for rejecting his love once again. So you were definitely in a haze when you woke up at the highest peak at Qingyun Peak on a floating island, inside your favorite game.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn't your fault. Why did he hate you so much? You let him go, told him to move on, that you would even bless him with his newfound lover. Even if he didn’t stay loyal, even if he begged on his knees to have a chance of making things right. Though there wasn’t anything that could change your mind, cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. 

However, you were too precious, perfect, and good for everyone else. So he decided. If he couldn’t have you, no one would. Hence the downfall of your life. Or the uprising? The people of Teyvat are sure to make your arrival a pleasant experience, after all, they’ve been expecting you for centuries.

It had to be by God’s will. Why else would he allow you to get pushed off of a bridge and drown to your death, at the age of 26?

It wasn’t fair. It wasn't your fault. Why did he hate you so much? You let him go, told him to move on, that you would even bless him with his newfound lover. Even if he didn’t stay loyal, even if he begged on his knees to have a chance of making things right. Though there wasn’t anything that could change your mind, cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. It means you have no respect for your partner and no loyalty. Both those things are required if a couple wants to last. Without them, the relationship is doomed to fail, which is what happened.

However, that could never be the end, not for you or him. 

Greedy. too greedy, and so, so selfish. He couldn’t let go. He couldn't move on, even with another woman waiting for him at home. He couldn’t take a step forward in life, knowing that someone could sweep you off your feet at any moment. Knowing that your heart can belong to another. Knowing that he’d be replaced eventually.

So he believed it would be best if the possibility of that happening is zero.

Why did you trust him? “For closure”, he told you. So, initially being the soft-hearted being you are, you meet up with him. Agreeing to meet in the middle of your local bridge where everywhere is surrounded by water positively wasn’t the smartest decision of your life. While you thought he was late, he had been just on time creeping up behind you while you were looking at the vast ocean. And in the next moment, you feel familiar arms wrapping around your waist. You let out a long exhale, knowing it’s him. You used to smile every time you felt his touch, but not anymore.

“Didn’t you say we’re meeting for closure? This should be the last time we see each other before going our separate ways, so I don’t know why you’re touching me. I don’t think we misunderstood what we meant by closure. It’s nothing intimate.” You feel the arms around you tighten, and you wonder for a split second if this is the best situation to be in. You should have stuck to that thought.

“Mh. It is the last time we’ll see each other.” You felt uneasy with the way he was saying that. It was making you nauseous. “But I’m giving you one more chance. Come back to me. It’ll be better this time, I won’t make the same mistake again. Why do you have to be this difficult?” The grip was getting tighter, and you felt as if the oxygen flow from your brain was becoming less frequent. But you still felt the annoyance grow in your body. Did he have no shame? “You have to be joking. Even with your what, fiance living with you right now, you still want more? Even if that woman has no respect for me, it's human decency not to have an affair with someone.”

You could tell that he didn't like the words coming out of your mouth. You could tell you were safe and needed to get out of her, quickly, desperately. But his grip was becoming threatening, and it was getting harder and harder for you to breathe.

“It's disappointing. We really could have had it all, if only you were willing to cooperate.” The words that leave his mouth are followed by what feels like a really hard punch to your back. Suddenly, your body falls limp and he catches you. You weakly reach for your back and quickly discover a knife. The person you once called the love of your life had stabbed you, and there's now blood trickling down your back, it's running cold rather than warm.

“W-Why-” You could barely get anything out as your vision was seeing little black dots. When you felt that he was picking you up, you couldn’t help but want to vomit at the thought of what he might do to your body. “Don’t worry, I'll let you rest in peace. Well, as peaceful as the ocean floor gets.” You want to scream, but nothing’s coming out. It shouldn’t be a surprise he can read your expressions by how long you were together, but you wished the past had never happened. Wished you never even gave him the time of day. Now you know why it’s no wonder his lover before you left the country. Why did you stay? Why didn’t you see the signs? 

From what you could still see, he’s tying something to your neck that you’re sure is supposed to act as a weight. Meaning that once you go in, you're most likely not coming back out. Not even for your own funeral, they won’t find the body. It breaks your heart. You don’t want to die. You don’t want to leave so much behind.

With one more breath from your lungs, he leans down and kisses you. How disgusting. He wouldn’t even allow you to rest in peace. It shouldn’t be that much of a shocker, but it still baffles you, and stuns you into silence. You don’t move, don’t breathe. You’re frozen, all up until he’s holding you over the railing, and your heart is in your head, your whole body’s shaking.

“Goodbye, love.”

Those were the very last words you heard before plummeting to your death.

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The water is cold, you’re shivering.

You can see red water, or what’s most likely your blood floating around you.

The stab wound in your back aches, you want the paint to go away.

The black spots in your vision are growing. 

You reach out for the surface but you’re sinking.

The weight attached to your neck just makes it harder to breathe, to move. 

This isn’t what you wanted.

You just wished to be admired, loved, cherished. Just as you did for everyone else, even if it hurt you.

Even if it eventually led to your death.

~

Ǔ̷̷̵̸̴̢̡̯͕̻̝̻͈̝̺͕̲̣͍̩̻̫͓̰́͌ͥͣ̒ͥ̒̇̈́̽̎͊ͮͣ́͘͡͡͞Ȉ̶̢̨̖̼̻̦͍͔͖̱͙̩͔̟͊͂̓̇̉̄ͯ̓́̋̄̿͌̾̐ͯͯ͌̌ͣ̿̏̽͜͞D̨̡̡̛͚̙̺̜̮͔̲̙̙̹̳̰̪̬͓ͫ͆̊͑́͋̉ͬ̑̓͂ͧ̎̿̀̕͟͞͠:̶̷̸͎͓̙̗̭̳̣͚̲̫͍̘͇̳̹̈́ͨͯ̊ͨ͋̏̆͒̒̎̓̍̆̍͘͢͝ 6ͫ͒̃͋5͙̹̱̖ͯ͌̄̄̿͗͘_̜̣̻̃̋4͕͂ͨ2̧͙̻͚͎̲̦̼͋̒͗͋ͬ͊̔̋̑ͯ͐̒̓͟͡͠ͅ6̸̷͖̲͙͕̠͓͚̠̬̲͉̞̗̼̭̒̀ͦ̊̏̊ͣͮ͆͒̔͋͂͊͑ͫ͑͛̍̀͞͝5͇̰͎̰͖̟̳̜͑̌̒ͧͪ̃ͤ̉͑́́͛̅͟͜8̴̧̢͇͔͖͉̳̠̪̲͎̫̙̪̃̑̀̑͊̃͑͊ͦ̒̓̂̈͂ͮͦ͘͠ͅ_̶̠_͔̂͒͢͡0̴̢̥͖̖̺͇̼͚͔̣̺̩̗̠͛̃̽͢͞ͅ6̹_̨̞̥ͫͬ̒ͫ͘͟͟_̷̨̥͓̲̞̿̽͆̅ͨͯ_̵̘̬̖ͤ̇̌ͧͨͫͦ͟

Loading…..

Player’s Soul detected, transferring now….

Welcome, Creator.

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A Seelie was floating in front of your face. Blue, alive, breathing, moving. In front of your face. In front of your eyes. You lie motionless on the grass for a few seconds before jolting up with a screech. While doing so, you collide with the Seelie, which feels like flowing silk, the smoothest thing you’ve felt on your skin.

Is this heaven? Or am I just having a very long and realistic dream? Isn’t that an entity from Genshin?  So you’re dreaming about a game that you gamble your soul away to…. Okay. But out of all of them, couldn’t it have been HSR? You feel like you’d have a better chance of surviving there.

…

This is not a dream, is it?

Okay, fine. You died, you remember that very vividly when you were in a literal sense, dragged down to your death. So the universe has decided to grace you with a second chance at life. In an open-world survival game. How gracious.

You can’t lie in flowy grass forever. Even though the moon light makes it perfect. You’re living in a fantasy world, everything is possible.  anything could happen. To you. You have to be smart about this, you can’t just appear out of nowhere and act clueless and all lost. You’ll be questioned immediately and might as well get yourself killed. No matter what nation you go to, who could explain what has happened to you? You’d like to know, but you wouldn’t want to go back. Some things are just better outside the real world. There are no serious politics, no pollution, and no war if you ignore whatever’s happening in Natlan. No absolute need to work a 9 to 5. 

Gathering the courage, you finally get up from the ground and observe your surroundings. Right by your feet, there’s a Windblume. You must be in Mondstant. In all honesty, it’s always been your least favorite nation. Uneventful and quiet. You could live a simple farm life in Liyue. It would be quiet, as long as you avoid Hilichurls.

Speaking of which, while you’ve been standing still and daydreaming about your thoughts, there’s been a distant sound of what seems like life yelling and footsteps getting closer and closer to you.

You finally snap out of it and look behind you, seeing two Hilichurls and one giant Lawachurl heading straight for you. 

Shoot.

You screech and start sprinting, but they’ll catch up in what, 20 seconds?

“Hey, you! Get down, as in right now!”

You can’t tell where the manly voice is coming from but faced with a split-second decision, you instinctively crouch down, shielding your head for safety. All you can hear is the fluttering of a bird and the sensation of heat rushing overhead. You can only catch a glimpse of red hair in a low ponytail.

Edit: I just realized that the summary says you wake up in a different place than Chapter 1. So sorry about this, it's still accurate but it just isn't the first place you wake up.

A/N: Life happened. This is long overdue so thank you all for the wait and sorry and all the empty promises. I'm back, however. I'll go back to my 1-2 week schedule. I found it easier to do with school in session, somehow. But I hope you all enjoyed Chapter 1. I'll make a Masterlist soon.

Sorry if I tagged you twice!

Taglist: @esthelily @cosmo112 @fantasyhopperhea @ilxina @aloflapse

@uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @umi-adxhira @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael @chickenalfredo4life @eccaza @jun-xiu @klemen-time @delulu-val @everi-eve @cluelesstoeverything @strangersomeone @lapinaenmicoche @alwayslegendarymoon @lumiiiiiiiiii @superninjaarbiter @@lexal-amber-rose

Borders by @cafekitsune

[hotheadedhero]

Now hear me out-

Bayverse turtles giving reader a spiderman kiss. Like maybe the turtles haven't seen their beloved significant other for a while and decide to sneak away from patrol for a split second to give them an upside down smooch.

💜

AN: Hearing you loud and clear my lovely, this is frickin adorable, thank you! Big spiderman fan over here <3 Hope you weren't waiting too long, even being on holiday wasn't going to stop me finishing this 👀

Kiss me

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

You are in the middle of reading on your couch when there’s knocking at your window. A set of rhythmic taps that play out in a particular pattern. A secret code indicative of who is waiting outside your living room. With a joyous grin, you spring up onto your feet and pull the curtains open. You expected to see your boyfriend outside but you did not expect him to be hanging upside down from your upstairs neighbour's part of the fire escape. Given the fact that yours is currently classed as unsafe to use, this makes a lot more sense.

The set of circumstances that led to such a problem is not your fault. Whoever had lived here prior, assumed it would be a great idea to place a blow-up paddling pool on it for those dreadfully hot summers. The funny thing about chlorine water, however, is that chlorine water accelerates the corrosion of metals. Much to your derisive luck, it didn’t start taking effect until a few months after you had moved in. Without any substantial evidence, the blame is being passed over to you and that is not a bill you have the funds to meet. Hence, you are awaiting a hearing and, hopefully, following approval to get it fixed without burning a said hole in your pocket. Landlords, am I right?

You open the window for Leonardo. “I see you came to hang out,” you quip before smiling awkwardly. “Sorry about the broken fire escape.”

He shakes his head, knowing that you should be the last person apologising for it, but decides to make light of the situation with his own humour. "You may want to look into that."

"If you got a spare grand or two lying around," you joke in return, "I'd be happy to."

Leo breathes a quiet laugh and puckers his lips. Figures that he would only have time for a quick greeting, so you may as well make it worthwhile when you have the chance. Happily, you comply and lean forward for a kiss. You smile into it and, in doing so, you feel him do the same. It can be hard to find the time for small moments such as is but they are always cherished.

"Now go keep us safe,” you mumble against his lips. “I’ll come by the lair when you’re done.”

One last kiss is exchanged, trying to savour it as best you can, before he inevitably has to disappear into the night again.

Raphael

Sometimes dating can be a whirlwind of mystery and uncertainties: days where one wonders if such a thing is tenable. Raphael knew your relationship would come with certain hurdles - albeit this isn't the worst it could be - but he didn't think you'd go this long without seeing each other. With you working during the day and him the night, planning time together is a challenge. For the quieter nights, you’re usually too tired from your job. There’s the occasional drop-in on your days off but it’s a similar problem what with him needing sleep, too. Not now, though. The frustration is settled thickly into his skin. Perhaps that’s why he’s working so hard on his crunches. Replace the mental burn with a physical one.

Deciding to turn up the burn, he lifts himself onto his pull-up bar, hooks his knees over it, and resumes working on his core. Raph gets close to a hundred reps before he hears the rapid pitter of feet coming straight for the lair. He prepares to descend to the ground and greet you but you rush into his gym and grab his face before he gets the chance.

"Just wanted to drop by quick," you sputter feverishly before smacking your mouth into his. "Can't stay long."

Then you kiss him again; a long, deep, and tender press of your lips upon his. He falls into it enough that the raw emotion is clear but not so much that he slips from the pull-up bar. The fact that you’ve hurried in before your shift just to give him some quick love means the world to this big lug. He should think about missing you more often if it means the universe will summon you to him. One hand outstretches to pull your head closer but you move away just as he's about to. Damn.

Sprinting off, you shout out a last, "Love you," before disappearing off into one of the many sewer tunnels.

He just hangs there gaunt, blinking for the after-image of you that is now completely gone. Had he not been taken so sharply off guard, he probably would have made a grab for you, insisting that you call in sick and stay. In a perfect world, maybe. A short huff of amusement blows out of his nostrils and he returns to his workout, now fueled with a new, more desirable burn.

With a smirk and underlays of that soft smile you coax out of him, he whispers under his breath, “Love you, too.”

Donatello

As far as work days go, this one has been a doozy and getting back home couldn’t possibly be a more sweet reward. There aren’t many floors to climb but you’re so tired that you opt to use the lift instead of the stairs; a little self-treat and a decision that you quickly regret when it comes to a halt. Your poor, weary body jostles with the force of it stopping abruptly and you whine. Please, don’t do this. After the day you’ve had, this is the last thing you need.

Just when you think it can’t possibly get any worse, there’s a thud from right above your head. Bandits? Burglary? A raid? All stupid ideas in the grand scheme of things but panic is leading you to such irrational thoughts. With your rucksack as your only defence, you hold it up ready to bring a smackdown if needs be. Clanging. Creaking. Weight shifting. Then, the ceiling’s latch falls and down comes a head.

“Mind if I drop by?” your turtle boyfriend asks as he hangs all topsy-turvy in front of you.

“Oh, thank Mercury, it’s you,” you heave, letting your bag drop to place a hand on your chest. The prior anxiety wears off just enough for a new one to beckon and you straighten up. “Wait, the security cams-”

“Already taken care of,” he reassures with a weirdly cheeky grin. “How’s this for some spontaneous romance?”

Slowly, your face pinches and points up at Donnie, not overly impressed with what’s insinuated here. So, this was all curated by him, was it? Possibly a cute plan from his perspective but you’re much too drained to see it that way.

You rub your eyes with your thumb and finger and sigh. “I wouldn’t consider giving me a near damn heart attack romantic, Don.”

“Would it be considered somewhat romantic if I were to say that I also reset and upgraded your lift system? It shouldn’t malfunction for another 5 years now.”

Knowing he’d find a way to have a sweet reason for this, you can hardly hold back your smile. It’s a bit out there but you also have to remind yourself of who you’re dating. You sigh again, this time in fake disdain, and lean off the wall to kiss him. Judging by the little hum in his throat, he must be feeling pretty proud of himself. When you pull away, you adjust his slightly crooked glasses.

“The best thing you could do right now is let me get to my apartment,” you note with a pat on his cheek. “Please?”

His eyes light up and he disappears back up from whence he came to get things running. Getting back home may have been trickier than you anticipated but it isn’t without its perks for being able to see Donnie. A conversation may need to be had about his choices of flirtatious spontaneity, however.

Michelangelo

In the late hours of the evening, you had decided to start settling down for the night. The typical, run-of-the-mill routine: brush your teeth, wash your face, and get into some cosy pyjamas. A nice movie sounds like a good idea before you hit the hay. You leave the bathroom to get a start on choosing one when you remark something in the air. It isn’t clear but there is an unspecified something different with your apartment since you’ve been in the bathroom. A smell? Or perhaps a few objects that now appear to be out of place. There wasn’t any noise to indicate a new presence. Ah. You know exactly what’s going on. Keeping back a laugh, you place your hand on your hips.

“I know you’re up there, Mikey,” you say, not even bothering to look up at your intruder.

“Aw, babe,” he whines from the ceiling as he lets the upper half of his body fall and hang limply in front of you. “Ruining the moment here.”

These types of hijinks may have pulled a fast one over you back in the day but you’ve grown more than accustomed to them by now, much to your boyfriend’s dismay. He isn’t inherently set on scaring your socks off - as much as that is a bonus - but he likes surprising you, seeing the sparkle in your eyes when you realise it’s him. He looks like a bit of a wounded puppy for the fact, so it only seems fair that you perk him back up again. Playfully rolling your eyes, you take a few steps forward and kiss him sweetly. It’s safe to say that this is much better than getting you all frightened. Regardless of that, you have to quietly question how he’s managed to find the time to come and attempt a prank at your expense in the first place.

“Mikey,” you hear one of his brothers yell from outside, “Don’s picked up on a burglary from the police scanners. We gotta go. Now!”

That answers that, then.

“Duty calls, angel,” he breathes out, clearly bummed out but feigning it against his lax grin. “You know how it is.”

Sensing his disappointment, you peck his lips again and grin encouragingly. “Go get ‘em, hero.”

He shoots you a wink and lets himself drop to the floor before jumping out of your window. You watch him bound off over rooftops, hollering and likely getting an ear chewed off by his brothers. Mikey hates to leave his sweetness behind but you know just what to say to get him fired up. Those thugs shall endure a swift beat down, so he can return for his “hero’s reward” quickly.

If you liked this, there's a real neat one by @theyhavetakenovermylife with the 2012 boyos with the same concept! (and also you just have to check out all of their works, they're amazing 🙏😭💕)

[transhitman]

Yeah so like I think people trying to say whether Curly is like bad/good or like at fault/blameless are missing the point. Like 1) bad person is a term I have issues with in general (I don't believe a person can be ontologically evil and you shouldn't either, a three hour video essay) and 2) within Anya's story he is an enabler no question, but at the same time we don't really get to see what he would have done going forward and if he really would have taken responsibility or continued to let things go as they did. I think being in denial when your best friend is accused of something awful is an understandable reaction. Not that he did the Right Thing in the slightest, but his mistake is very human and probably meant to be sympathetic. Also, they were all gonna be trapped together for 8 months and we don't know the extent or timeline of what Anya told him so like. Who can say what would have happened. The whole situation is a time bomb whatever Curly might have done.

It is of course interesting to consider how much Curly is responsible for. Obviously he was supposed to keep the crew safe. If not for his overabundance of trust in his subordinates (because they WERE his subordinates, whether he saw them as friends or not), Jimmy wouldn't have been able to put them in that situation in the first place. But at the same time, the game is kind of screaming at us that Jimmy is responsible for his actions. Jimmy is the perpetrator. Jimmy did this to himself and to his friends.

All this to say that like... On a character-to-character basis it's interesting to consider all this, but the game is about Jimmy, at the end of the day, and his actions and his mindset. Curly made mistakes but Jimmy is unequivocally the bad guy in the narrative that has been presented. The story is not presented from Anya's POV, where Curly might be a villain, and Curly's POV segments are limited, meant to give us a more objective view of the OTHER crewmates that Jimmy dehumanizes in his narration, imo. And I find it fascinating that despite the game's insistence that Jimmy is at fault, and the way Jimmy constantly blames his actions on other people (look what you made me do type beat), we as an audience still want to consider that the blame could be split. Maybe it should be. Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe the question is useless, because it already happened. It happened, and it can't be fixed. And only one of these characters was able to actually show us how they would act in the aftermath.

[sinnaminsuga]

𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 - mob boss!chan x reader

wc: 3,519

cw: some threats of violence, a little angsty but happy ending, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you loved him, more than anything. but being a secret was never what you wanted. the gilded cage you seemed to exist exclusively in was suffocating you, so you decided it was time to get out. but chan wont let you go that easily.

a/n: i was driving and clearly i was not paying attention because thats when this idea was born. as usual this was beta'd by bestie @httpdwaekki and she sourced the pretty pictures for me too. enjoy!

sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), breeding kink if you squint, general roughness, threats of violence (not toward the reader), chan has a gun. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.

the creak of the church doors flying open should have startled you like it did everyone else, but you knew better. it was only a matter of time before he came for you. he didn't like his things to go missing. truthfully, you were shocked it even took this long. 

the click of his (no doubt expensive) shoes on the shiny wooden floor of the church hung in the air like the ticking of a clock, counting down to either your demise or your bliss you weren't sure which one. after a long pause you turned your head just enough to face him. 

“can we help you?” you asked, more nonchalant than anyone else would have been in a situation like this. the muffled gasps and muttering from the crowd in front of you almost made you laugh but you held it in. 

the charged energy in the room was due to the fact that the man interrupting your wedding was none other than the most fearsome businessman and gangster this city had ever seen. but to you? he was your asshole ex boyfriend. 

“oh can you help me? that's what you're going to say? isn't this a little much, yeobo?” he replied, voice dripping with condescension and his hand over his heart in mock surprise. 

“a little much? god you're so out of touch it's actually insane christopher. news flash, you're not the groom, you're not even supposed to be here!” you seethed, fully turning to face him. your groom (hand selected by your parents) stood next to you shaking like a leaf. you could feel the nervous sweat from his hand slicking the surface of your palm and it made your skin crawl so you dropped his hold as you stared fiercely down the aisle. 

chan's face split into the wide grin you’d once been accustomed to seeing. “are you done now? you've gotten your attention and you've pissed me off, the job is done. let's go.” he said, walking further down the aisle toward you. 

“jesus christ, you really are insane! i should have listened when people told me you were a full on fucking basket case but no. i was stupid enough to fall in love with you. fat lot of good that did for me!” you shouted at his approaching form. 

you could feel your skin heating up and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears you were so mad. who the hell did he think he was, intruding on your life like this?! it's his fault you were in this situation anyway!

***

you had been with chan for 3 years, and in that time he made it a point to keep your relationship a secret. it hurt seeing his face splashed on newspapers and tabloids all over the city speculating on who he might be dating or who he’d been seen with recently. it hurt even more when he recapped nights where he was out to dinner with his men or allies and their wives. you couldn't help but feel like it was because you weren't enough. you felt like you weren't pretty enough, weren't tough enough, weren't worthy to be seen outside his penthouse apartment. and a girl can only take so much of that for so long. 

so a few months ago on a particularly lonely night of chan being out doing god knows what with lord knows who, you packed only your sentimental personal belongings (nothing he purchased for you, which was a hell of a lot of your things), wrote a note saying nothing more than “no one took me, not that you'd care even if they did. i’ll be a bird in a gilded cage no longer. goodbye.” and walked out his door for the last time. 

the fancy things he could provide for you behind closed doors weren't enough to soothe the searing pain in your soul of feeling like the man you loved was ashamed of you. three years together and not even a hint at things changing any time soon was enough to make you return home to your parents and agree to the arranged marriage they had been working on as they had no knowledge of the relationship you were already in. and who knows, maybe you could learn to love your soon-to-be husband Seo-jun.

***

you grabbed the skirt of your simple wedding dress and stomped down the few stairs of the platform, heading toward chan. when you finally stood in front of him you could see the darkness under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping. his hair was gorgeous as usual but a little longer than he was used to wearing it. and his knuckles were raw and bruised. you almost felt bad for him but then, you remembered he made the bed he was lying in so why should you care about how uncomfortable it might be?

“why are you so upset with me yeobo? hmm? what did i do that was so bad you had to leave me in the middle of the night? i took care of you didn't i? anything you asked for, i gave it to you.” chan asked, grabbing your hand. something dark flashed in his eyes and his upper lip curled when his fingers felt Seo-jun's ring on your finger. “what made you hate me so much that you ran off to be with this fucking nobody?”

“you just don't get it. and you never did. that's part of the problem chris. you don't see me. you don't know me. no one did.” you murmured, taking your hand back and smoothing the fabric of your dress, eyes cast down. “with Seo-jun we can walk down the street holding hands and he doesn't think twice about it. we can have dinner in a restaurant, one that has other people in it. not one that's been emptied out and all the blinds closed and the staff paid to keep their mouths shut.” you inhaled a shaky breath before continuing. “i couldn't do that with you. and the worst part is, i don't think you even wanted to. you were happy to exclude me from things. happy to hide me. but i don't want that. i never did. and if you had no intentions of marrying me, it was my responsibility to myself to find someone who would.” you dabbed your fingers under your eyes and sniffled before straightening your back and meeting his eyes. you weren't prepared to see the agony in his face. 

“i- i don't...i didn't know...i didn't know that is how you saw it all, how you saw me. i'm so sorry sweetheart. i wish you had talked to me.” chan breathed. he reached out his right hand and set it on your shoulder, rubbing soothing little circles with his thumb. after a moment he slid it up to cradle the back of your neck and tug you closer to him. 

“i should have explained. i should have been more perceptive. i never wanted you to feel this way, i swear i didnt.” chan’s voice shook as he spoke to you. 

“well it's too late now. please just go. please.” you whispered, trying to back away from him. you couldn't talk about this anymore. but in your attempt to move away from him, his grip on you tightened. he pulled you toward him forcefully enough that you were now chest to chest. 

“you think that i will ever let you go again? i stayed away when you left, i thought maybe you needed time to be angry at me for whatever it was and then you'd come back when you were ready. but then i saw your face in the newspaper, the wedding announcement section no less. and i laughed. i laughed because surely that couldn't be true.” a bitter laugh rattled out of chan's mouth, flames of wild jealousy flickering in his eyes. 

“as long as there is air in my lungs and my heart is beating in my chest, you will never belong to another man. ever. do you understand me?” he growled. 

“i told you in my note and i'll tell you again now to your face, i wont be in a cage anymore. i cant do that to myself chris. i won’t. besides, you never would have married me. you just want to possess me, but you don't want anyone to know that you do.” you said softly, tears finally slipping down your cheeks unrestrained. 

“why do you keep saying that? why do you think i'm ashamed of you?” he pleaded, his brows drawing together in confusion.  

“what else am i left to think when you keep me hidden away in your penthouse? i'm not invited to dinners. i'm not invited to parties. no one you know, knows i exist! that's why every person in this room is so shocked to see you here! no one had any idea we were together, because that's what you wanted. i was a toy for you and now that someone else has me you're upset. don't you understand how painful that is for me?!” you wailed, not wanting to keep talking about it. you pleaded with your eyes for him to stop this torture but he was having none of it. 

“are you insane? you think i wanted to keep us a secret? i wanted to tip toe around with you? no! but i had to! i know you think you know what i do but you have no idea the dangers that come with it. you are my most prized possession and the very knowledge of that is ammunition for some people in my world.” chan cried. “i would have loved nothing more than to scream it from the rooftops how much i fucking love you but i knew that would put you in danger and if anything ever happened to you i would have burned the world to ash. but the idea of your safety is out the window now, you forced my hand with this wedding bullshit and now it's all out in the open. everybody fucking knows now!” he bellowed. 

realization washed over you like a bucket of ice water. he was right. you never considered that you might be in harms way if his enemies knew of your existence. 

“i couldn't fucking marry you because then our marriage would be public record. anyone digging into me would find you that way. i wasn't willing to lay your life on the fucking line like that. is a wedding what you want? you wanna marry me?” chan asked, a mischievous air suddenly surrounding him. your subconscious overrode any sort of common sense and forced you to nod yes like some kind of sick twisted muscle memory. 

the next thing you knew he was pulling you back down the aisle toward the small raised platform, the audience whispering behind you. as he approached your groom you held your breath, worried about what he would say. 

“seo-jun is it?” he asked and seo-jun nodded. the fear was coming off of him in waves, why your parents paired you with this man you would never understand. you were far too argumentative to be with a weak man. “okay, so seo-jun what's going to happen now is i'm going to marry your fiance okay? get out of my way please, i'll only ask the one time so remember that.” chan said, his voice sickly sweet with a hint of ominous threat. seo-jun just nodded and ran off to cower behind his parents in the first row of seats. chan turned to face the officiant before speaking again. “alright let's start.”

the officiant gulped before he spoke with a shaky voice, “sir i can't marry you two. you don't even have a marriage license with the correct names on it.” this was obviously the incorrect response because chan reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, pressing it to the underside of the officiant's jaw. the rabid look in his eyes was one you were familiar with, he was incredibly worked up now. 

“i don't recall asking for your sage advice, did anyone hear me ask for his advice?” he addressed the audience with his question. the crowd murmured a chorus of no’s and chan turned back to the man at gunpoint. “open your stupid fucking book and marry us or i'll blow your fucking brains out, got it? okay, good.” the officiant nodded frantically as chan pulled the gun away, tucking it back into the holster you knew he wore on his side. 

you were very much in shock, and oddly enough very much turned on by his public display of aggression. you were finally getting what you always dreamed of with chan but you weren't totally happy. you didn't get to plan the wedding of your dreams with him, and this small event just didnt feel right. 

“chris we can't do this. not like this. i want to plan something real, something with you. can we do that? please?” you asked, tugging on his hands. 

“oh. of course we can do that sweetheart. but can we do this too? just like a practice? we’re already here and you look so pretty.” he said with his lopsided grin you could never say no to. so you giggled and nodded, and proceeded with the ceremony. 

after the exchanging of vows, a cutting look at seo-jun from chan about the wedding band he’d chosen for you, and some muttering from chan about ‘none of this is good enough' the officiant pronounced you man and wife. the crowd reaction was mild as they were all still so confused and terrified, but you didn't care. you were floating. and soon as he heard the words “you may now kiss your bride” chan tugged you to him and planted his lips on yours. he swept his tongue into your mouth and you whined into the kiss. god you'd missed this, no one kissed you like chan did. he broke away for a moment just to stare at you. 

“everybody get the fuck out.” every person in the church fled at chan's command, some squealing as they left. the two men he arrived with left as well, closing the doors behind them. you looked around confused, not sure why he would do that as you hadn't gotten your chance to walk down the aisle hand in hand. “channie what are you doing?” you asked. 

a wicked smile appeared on his face as he replied “my wife and i need to consummate this marriage, i didn't want them here for that.” heat settled low in your belly at his words and you felt your face flush. surely he couldn't be serious! but evidently he was as he pulled you further across the platform to the altar. 

he lifted you and set you down on top of the altar and pushed your legs apart to slot himself in between, yanking your dress up your legs to pool around your hips. chan planted open mouthed kisses across your exposed collarbone, one hand kneading your breast, the other reaching between you to grind against your clit. you threw your head back at the sudden pleasure. 

“you let him in here? you let seo-jun touch you like i do?” he grunted against your mouth. 

“nuh-uh. told him i wanted to wait. wasn't ready to give myself to another man.” you said, choking down a moan. 

“good. he seems nice, i really didn't want to have to kill him.” chan laughed out into your neck. you pawed at his chest in an attempt to open his shirt but the buttons proved to be too difficult for your lust addled brain so you tore it open instead. and what you saw made you stop short. 

right over his heart swooped dark black strokes of ink in your handwriting, the tattoo reading “i’ll be a bird in a gilded cage no longer.” it took your breath away and tears welled in your eyes. the weight of everything that had transpired hung heavy in the air between you and chan knew that so instead of speaking right away he leaned in, cupped your face in both hands, and kissed you with the most passion he could. so many words unspoken poured out of your mouths and into that kiss.

“here's what's going to happen now sweetheart. i'm gonna flip you around, bend you over, and fuck you until you see stars okay? it's been too long.” he explained as he maneuvered your body to the position he was describing. his big hand pressed between your shoulder blades and you submitted to him like you always did, leaning forward until your cheek was pressed to the marble of the altar. 

the jingling of his belt behind you made you clench around nothing, the ache of being empty taking over. chan bunched your skirt up once again before savagely tearing your panties from your body. two of his big fingers slid through your wetness before sinking into you, punching a moan from your chest. 

“gonna make it hurt baby, stretch you out jus’ the way you like okay? daddy’s gonna take such good care of you. always remember i love you okay sweetheart? because im going to fuck you like i really really don't.” he whispered into your ear, planting a kiss on the side of your head. then he was lining up with your entrance and sliding all the way in without stopping. 

and he was right, the stretch hurt but really it always did. he was just so big, but you liked the burn. you liked still feeling him the next day. you could feel your eyelids drooping and your body relaxing as he started to move. 

“fucking hell sweetheart. a few months away from me and i have to retrain this pussy to take me. so fucking tight.” chan ground out as his powerful hips slammed him in and out of you over and over again. your cunt was drooling all over his cock, almost as much as your mouth was all over the altar. 

“still can't believe you ran from me. how about i put a baby in you, then you can't go anywhere. there's not a single place on this earth where i won't fucking find you, you got that?” he spat, lacing his hand into your hair and yanking your head up. all you could get out was a measly “uh-huh” but it seemed to be enough because he growled and started pistoning his thick length into you at a new angle, slamming the head into your g-spot. 

chan reached down and wrapped a big hand around the back of your left thigh, lifting your leg and laying it flat on the altar, opening you up more for him. he slid his fingertips down between your legs and rubbed at your clit. if you weren't already sweating and drooling, surely that would have been the thing to do it. 

“slutty little pussy missed me huh? she was all lonely and empty without daddy to take care of her. c’mon baby, keep squeezing me, yeah just like that pretty girl. so perfect.” he groaned as he did his best to bruise you from the inside. 

at this point you were as boneless as you'd ever been, you truly did miss getting dicked down like this. chan had always been the best fuck of your life and you hadn't realized how much you missed it until now. “please make me cum daddy. need it so bad.” you mumbled incoherently, eyes glazed over. 

chan laughed, a bitter sound tumbling from his lips. “those little fingers of yours couldn't even come close to treating you like my dick huh? bet you were riding that dildo i got you, wishing it was me.” he hissed out between his clenched teeth. all you could do was moan and nod because he was right. 

“go on then. cum for me pretty baby. do it for me, need to feel it. then i'll fill you up just like you like.” he said, throwing his head back as he thrust into you with the harshest force you'd ever experienced. a few more direct hits to your g-spot and it was over, you were screaming and spasming around him, trapping him inside you for a moment. 

“jesus fucking christ- oh god fuck that feels so good. keep squeezing me, yessss just like that baby yeah. fuck you're so beautiful like this. ah- ah- fuck fuck fuck 'm gonna cum. gonna cum in this perfect little cunt baby. FUCK!” chan gasped out, hips stilling as he spilled inside of you, warming you from the inside out. he collapsed over your back and breathed hard against your spine. 

after gathering his breath and his thoughts he leaned forward, licking up a rivulet of sweat rolling down the side of your neck before whispering into your ear “cmon mama, lets get you home. i have a lot of apologizing to do.”

THE END

[lila-lou]

✨Taking her in - Pt. 2✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language

Word Count: 6472

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

But as soon as Dean stepped into the hallway, he collided with you.

You were walking toward the bathroom, eyes glued to your phone, completely unaware of your surroundings. The sudden impact made you stumble back, and you looked up in surprise, your gaze locking with Dean’s.

The world seemed to freeze in that moment.

Dean felt his breath catch in his throat as he stood there, half-naked and dripping wet, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. The shock in your eyes quickly gave way to something else—a flicker of something unreadable that made his heart stutter in his chest. He could see the way your gaze flicked over him, taking in the sight of him standing there, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t intended.

And fuck, the way you looked at him—it sent a jolt of heat through him that he didn’t know how to handle.

“Dean—”, you started, but whatever you were going to say was lost as you took in the situation fully, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red.

Dean’s mind scrambled for something to say, something to do that wouldn’t make this moment even more awkward than it already was. But he was caught off guard, still reeling from everything he’d been trying to push down in the shower, and now here you were, standing right in front of him, too close and too far all at once.

“Sorry”, you mumbled, stepping back, your eyes darting away from his as you tried to give him space. “I wasn’t paying attention. I—um—I didn’t mean to…”.

Dean shook his head, finding his voice, though it came out rougher than he intended. “It’s fine. My fault. Should’ve looked where I was going”.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe just a quick remark to break the tension, but the words never came. Dean’s eyes flicked down briefly, just for a split second, but it was enough for him to realize with a jolt of panic that the unwelcome reaction he’d been fighting off in the shower was back with a vengeance. His body betrayed him again, and this time there was no cold water to douse the flames.

Without another word, he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, your unspoken words hanging in the air. The speed of his retreat, the way he couldn’t even look at you as he left, made your stomach twist with a confusing mix of emotions. You watched him go, feeling a wave of something that wasn’t quite anger, but close—a hurt that sat heavy in your chest.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still mad at you, that the argument from earlier was somehow still hanging over both of you, unresolved and festering. But this felt different too, more personal, like there was something else going on that you couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t just the remnants of your disagreement; it was something deeper, something unspoken that lingered in the space between you.

As Dean disappeared down the hallway, you were left standing there, your heart pounding in your chest. The awkwardness of the encounter had left you flustered, but it was the way he had walked away that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Dean had seemed off balance, as if he was barely holding himself together. And the way he had avoided your gaze, the quickness with which he’d retreated, it all added up to something that made you uneasy.

With a sigh, you shook your head and continued into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You needed to clear your head, to figure out how to handle whatever was happening between you and Dean before it spiraled even further out of control.

But as you stood there, staring at yourself in the mirror, the image of Dean—half-naked, dripping wet, and looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him—kept playing in your mind.

The weight of your feelings pressed down on you like a heavy blanket. You’d been in love with Dean for years now—ever since the moment he’d first saved you, stepping into your life like a guardian angel with rough edges and a heart that you’d seen was softer than he let on. You could still remember how your heart had fluttered in that first moment, how the fear you’d felt had been replaced by something warmer, something you hadn’t understood then but had come to know all too well.

But to Dean, you were just the helpless kid he’d saved. The one he had taken under his wing, brought into the fold of his makeshift family, and protected with a fierceness that both comforted and frustrated you. He saw you as a little sister, someone to look after, to shield from the horrors of the world. And that was the problem. No matter how much you’d grown, no matter how strong you’d become, he still looked at you and saw that frightened kid who needed saving.

That was why it hurt so much every time he treated you like a child, why it triggered something deep inside you. Because you weren’t that kid anymore. You were a woman now, with feelings and desires and a heart that ached every time you looked at him, knowing he’d never see you the way you wanted him to. Knowing that, in his eyes, you’d always be someone to protect, not someone to love.

And that was the real pain of it—the knowledge that no matter how much you cared for him, no matter how deeply you felt, he would never see you as anything more than his responsibility. Someone to keep safe, not someone to hold close.

The image of him standing there in that hallway, half-naked, had shaken you more than you cared to admit. Because for a split second, you thought you saw something different in his eyes—a flicker of something that mirrored the way you felt. But then he had turned away, retreating so quickly that it left you reeling, unsure if you’d imagined the whole thing.

You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair as you tried to shake off the lingering tension from the encounter. You knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself, couldn’t keep hoping for something that would never happen. Dean had made it clear, time and time again, that he was there to protect you, to keep you safe. And that was all it would ever be.

But even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t help the way your heart clenched at the thought. The love you felt for him was something that had grown over the years, something that had taken root so deeply inside you that you didn’t know how to untangle it from who you were. And no matter how much you tried to push it down, to bury it under layers of practicality and logic, it always found a way to rise to the surface.

Taking a deep breath, you splashed some water on your face, trying to clear your head. You needed to stop dwelling on this, stop letting it consume you. Dean wasn’t yours, and he never would be. You had to accept that, had to find a way to move on, even if it meant dealing with the pain of unrequited love.

Back in Dean’s room, he shut the door behind him with a little too much force, the sound reverberating in the otherwise quiet space. His heart was still pounding, his mind a chaotic mess of conflicting thoughts. But as much as he wanted to push everything down and ignore it, his body had other plans.

He glanced down at the towel wrapped around his waist, cursing under his breath as he saw the telltale sign of his arousal, the strain of his erection against the fabric. His fists clenched at his sides, frustration and shame warring within him. This was wrong—so wrong—and he knew it. He kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, hoping that if he said it enough times, it would sink in, that it would somehow make the feelings go away.

But no matter how hard he tried to will it down, his body wouldn’t listen. The memory of you standing so close, the way your eyes had looked up at him with something that felt dangerously like longing, was burned into his mind. And it wasn’t just that—your scent, the warmth of your presence, the way your voice had softened when you’d said his name—it was all too much, too overwhelming. It was a storm inside him that he couldn’t control.

Dean’s jaw tightened as he turned away from the door, pacing the length of his room in an attempt to clear his head. He tried to focus on anything else—the hunt, the research that needed to be done, anything that would distract him from the unbearable ache in his chest and the unwelcome desire pooling in his gut. But every time he tried to shift his thoughts, they circled back to you, pulling him into the same torturous loop.

“This is wrong”, he muttered to himself, the words a growl of frustration. “She’s too young. She’s like a sister. You can’t… you can’t do this”.

But even as he said it, the logic of it felt hollow, powerless against the tide of emotions he was barely holding back. He was supposed to be stronger than this, supposed to be able to keep these feelings in check, but here he was, barely able to keep himself together after one accidental encounter.

Dean sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands as he fought to regain control. This wasn’t just about desire—if it were, he might have been able to push it aside. No, this was something deeper, something that had been growing for years, something that terrified him because of how strong it had become.

He cared about you—more than he’d ever let on, even to himself. And that was the crux of it, the thing he couldn’t ignore. This wasn’t just a passing attraction; it was rooted in something real, something that had been building from the moment he’d saved you all those years ago. But he couldn’t let himself feel it, couldn’t let himself want you like that. Because if he did, it would ruin everything.

Dean took a deep, shaky breath, forcing himself to stand and move toward the dresser. He needed to get dressed, needed to do something normal, something to ground himself before he lost whatever grip he had left. But as he reached for his clothes, his hands were trembling, and his thoughts were still a jumbled mess.

Eventually, Dean managed to pull himself together enough to get dressed. His hands were still shaking slightly as he yanked on a pair of boxers, grimacing as he adjusted himself to hide his persistent erection by tucking it under the waistband. The discomfort was a reminder of the situation he was trying so desperately to avoid, but he pushed through it, forcing himself to focus on the mundane task of pulling on his jeans and a flannel shirt.

Once he was dressed, he stood in the middle of his room for a moment, trying to steady his breathing, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in his head. He needed something to distract himself, something to take the edge off before he had to face you or Sam again. His gaze flicked toward the door, and he knew where he needed to go—the kitchen. A cold beer wouldn’t solve his problems, but it might help him get a handle on them, at least for a little while.

Dean took one last deep breath, running a hand through his still-damp hair before he made his way out of his room and down the hall. The bunker was quiet, and he was grateful for the silence; it gave him a chance to pull himself together, to try to push down the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him.

As he reached the kitchen, he pulled open the fridge with more force than necessary, grabbing a cold bottle of beer from the shelf. He popped the cap off with practiced ease and took a long swig, the cool liquid sliding down his throat and easing some of the tension in his chest.

For a moment, he just stood there, leaning against the counter with the bottle in hand, staring blankly at the far wall.

It took Dean four beers before he finally felt even remotely ready to face Sam in the library. Each bottle had gone down quicker than the last, the cold liquid doing its best to numb the edges of his thoughts, to push the swirling storm of emotions back to a manageable level.

He set the empty bottle down on the counter with a soft clink, letting out a long, slow breath as he ran a hand through his hair again, trying to shake off the lingering haze of frustration and confusion. It wasn’t much, but the alcohol had taken the edge off, had given him a little more control over the chaos inside him.

Dean knew he couldn’t put off talking to Sam any longer. His brother had a way of sensing when something was off, and the last thing Dean needed was for Sam to start asking questions he wasn’t ready to answer. He needed to act normal, needed to push everything else aside and focus on what mattered—keeping things from spiraling any further out of control.

With a final, resolute nod to himself, Dean pushed away from the counter and made his way out of the kitchen, heading toward the library. The familiar hum of the bunker filled the silence as he walked, the steady sound a small comfort in the midst of the turmoil he was trying to keep at bay.

As he approached the library, he could see Sam already sitting at one of the long wooden tables, a stack of books in front of him, the glow of his laptop casting a soft light on his face. Sam looked up as Dean entered, his expression shifting from concentration to something more guarded—like he was trying to gauge Dean’s mood before saying anything.

“Hey”, Sam greeted, his tone cautious as he closed the book he’d been reading. “Everything okay?”.

Dean forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, just needed to cool off a bit. You know how it is”.

Sam nodded slowly, clearly not entirely convinced but willing to let it slide for now. “Yeah, I get it. You want to go over what we found earlier? Might help take your mind off things”.

Dean knew what Sam was doing—offering him a distraction, a way to focus on something other than whatever had been eating at him since the argument with you. It was the kind of thing Sam was good at, knowing when to push and when to give space. And right now, Dean appreciated the latter.

“Sure”, Dean said, crossing the room to sit down across from Sam. “Let’s get to it”.

Sam gave him a small, understanding nod before opening one of the books, flipping to a marked page. “So, I was looking into that case in Ohio, and I found something that might tie into it. There’s a pattern here with the disappearances, something that lines up with an old legend about…”.

As Sam started to explain his findings, Dean tried to focus on the words, on the research and the hunt ahead of them. It was familiar territory, something he could sink his teeth into, something that didn’t involve the confusing mess of emotions he was desperately trying to bury.

But even as he listened, even as he nodded along and offered his own thoughts on the case, a part of his mind was still back in that hallway with you. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t completely push it away, couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that something between you had changed—and that there was no going back.

For now, though, he would focus on the hunt. On the work that needed to be done. And maybe, just maybe, he could keep everything else locked away where it couldn’t hurt anyone. At least until he figured out how to deal with it without destroying the fragile balance that had been holding everything together for so long.

It wasn’t until late that evening, when Sam came back with a bag full of Chinese takeout, that Dean had to face you again. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon and evening at the map table, nursing his tenth beer, trying to lose himself in the work and the alcohol. But neither had done much to ease the tension coiled in his chest or the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone.

The bunker had been quiet, with only the soft rustling of pages and the occasional click of Sam’s keyboard to break the silence. It had been a welcome reprieve, a chance for Dean to keep his distance from you, to avoid any more awkward encounters or the dangerous feelings that came with them.

But now, as the smell of fried rice and sesame chicken wafted through the air, Dean knew he couldn’t avoid you any longer.

“(Y/N), I brought some Chinese!”, Sam’s voice echoed through the bunker, the sound casual and warm.

Dean didn’t move right away, staying seated at the map table, his fingers drumming lightly on the wood as he stared at the bottle in front of him. The thought of seeing you again, of facing whatever tension still hung between you, made his chest tighten. But he had to pull it together, had to act like everything was fine, like nothing had changed.

A few moments later, you appeared in the doorway, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up to see you. To his displeasure—and to the immediate dismay of his already frayed self-control—you were wearing a pair of shorts that were far too short for his peace of mind, paired with a tight top that left a good portion of your stomach exposed. The sight of you like that sent a jolt of heat through him, and he had to force himself to look away, to focus on anything other than the way your body moved as you shyly approached.

You hesitated in the doorway, clearly unsure of how he’d react, your eyes flicking to the beer in front of him and the tension in his posture. “Hey”, you said softly, your voice tentative.

Dean grunted in response, not trusting himself to say more. He took a long swig of his beer instead, trying to ignore the way his pulse had quickened, the way his mind was betraying him with images he had no business thinking about. He knew he needed to keep it together, but the sight of you like this, so close and so… exposed, was making it nearly impossible.

Sam, ever the oblivious or maybe just tactfully ignoring the tension in the room, smiled at you. “Come on, grab some food before it gets cold”.

Sam spread the food over the map table, setting out containers of fried rice, sesame chicken, egg rolls, and a few other dishes. He was all smiles, clearly trying to keep things light, urging you to take a seat. “Come on, dig in”, he said, gesturing to the open containers as he grabbed a pair of chopsticks for himself. “I got all your favorites”.

You offered him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. There was still a lingering uncertainty in your movements as you took a seat across from Dean, your eyes flickering to him for a brief moment before quickly darting away. The tension between you was palpable, thick enough that it seemed to weigh down the air around you.

Dean watched you out of the corner of his eye, doing his best to keep his expression neutral as he reached for another beer. His fingers brushed against the cold glass of the bottle, but he hesitated before taking another drink. The alcohol had dulled the edges of his thoughts earlier, but now, with you sitting so close, he wasn’t sure it was doing him any favors.

Sam tore open a packet of soy sauce and drizzled it over his rice, taking a big bite before looking at you with a grin. “You okay, (Y/N)?”, he asked casually, though there was an undercurrent of concern in his voice. “You’ve been kind of quiet”.

You nodded, reaching for a container of fried rice and a pair of chopsticks, though your movements were slower than usual. “Yeah, I’m fine”, you replied, though the words felt forced. You stole another quick glance at Dean, who was still staring at the beer in his hand, as if it held all the answers he needed.

Dean could feel your eyes on him, and it took everything in him not to look up, not to let his gaze travel down to the way your shorts hugged your thighs or the sliver of skin exposed by your top. He knew he should say something, should try to bridge the gap that had grown between you, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he focused on the beer in front of him, taking another long swig in the hopes that it might help settle the restless energy coiled in his chest.

But it didn’t. If anything, the alcohol only heightened his awareness of you, made him more acutely aware of the scent of your shampoo, the soft sound of your breathing, the way your legs crossed under the table.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dean reached for some food, trying to focus on anything other than the knot of tension tightening in his chest. He grabbed a container of fried rice and scooped some onto his plate, doing his best to keep his movements casual, as if he wasn’t hyper-aware of your every glance.

But he could feel it—the way you kept looking at him, your eyes flicking up to meet his before quickly darting away. It was like a constant pressure, a silent question that hung in the air between you. Every time he caught you looking at him, it only made his heart beat faster, his thoughts more jumbled.

For nearly twenty minutes, the silence stretched on, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of chopsticks against plastic and Sam’s attempts at casual conversation. But even Sam seemed to sense the strain, his usual chatter subdued as he alternated between talking about the hunt and filling the awkward gaps in conversation.

Dean kept his head down, focusing on his food, but the weight of your gaze was impossible to ignore. The more you watched him, the more he felt the walls he’d built up start to crumble.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, Sam stood up and stretched. “I’m gonna grab a beer”, he said, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over the table. He glanced at you, then at Dean, before heading toward the kitchen. “You guys want anything?”.

Dean shook his head, his voice tight. “I’m good”.

You shook your head as well, offering Sam a small smile as he left the room. The moment he was gone, the silence between you and Dean seemed to grow even heavier, the air thick with all the things neither of you were saying.

Dean could feel your eyes on him again, and this time, it was too much. He set down his chopsticks, his fingers twitching with the need to do something—anything—to break the tension. He clenched his jaw, trying to push down the frustration and confusion that had been building inside him all day.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He looked up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that surprised even him. “What?”, he asked, his voice rougher than he intended. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden sharpness in his tone. But you didn’t look away, your expression shifting from uncertainty to something more determined. “Because… because something’s wrong, Dean”, you said, your voice quiet but steady. “And you won’t talk to me about it".

Dean felt a surge of emotions he couldn’t quite name—anger, frustration, something else that he didn’t want to acknowledge. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to keep his voice steady. “Nothing’s wrong, (Y/N). I’m just tired”.

But you weren’t buying it. He could see it in your eyes, the way you were studying him like you were trying to see past the mask he was wearing. “Don’t lie to me, Dean. I know you better than that”.

That hit harder than it should have, and Dean felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest. You did know him, maybe better than most people. And that was the problem. You knew when he was hiding something, when he was trying to push you away, and now it was clear you weren’t going to let it go.

He looked away, unable to hold your gaze any longer. “I’m not lying”, he muttered, though he knew it wasn’t convincing. Not to you, not to himself.

“Yes, you are”, you mumbled, your voice trembling slightly. “Look, I’m sorry if I pushed you earlier, but I just… I feel useless, Dean. I’m not working, I’m not hunting. I’m just… I’m just getting groceries with your damn money, cleaning, doing the laundry”. You paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing, your voice even quieter. “But I want to be more than just a burden on you and Sam’s wallet. I want to help hunting”.

Dean swallowed hard, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at him. He’d always seen you as part of the family, not a burden, but he realized now that his actions might have made you feel otherwise. He hated that you felt like this, hated that you saw yourself as anything less than the strong, capable person he knew you were.

“You’re not a burden”, Dean said, his voice gruff but earnest. He finally looked up at you, his green eyes meeting yours, and he saw the sincerity in your expression—the desperate need for him to understand. “You’ve never been a burden, (Y/N). You’re part of this family. And yeah, maybe I’ve been a little overprotective, but that’s only because…”.

He trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence without revealing too much, without crossing that line he’d been so carefully toeing for years. The truth was, he cared about you—more than he should, more than he was willing to admit even to himself. And that was why he’d kept you on the sidelines, why he’d tried to shield you from the dangers of hunting. Because the thought of losing you, of something happening to you out there, was more than he could bear.

You waited for him to finish, your eyes never leaving his, and he could see the determination in them—the same determination that had drawn him to you in the first place. You weren’t going to back down, and he knew it.

“Because what, Dean?”, you prompted gently, your voice soft but firm.

Dean clenched his jaw, the weight of everything he wanted to say pressing down on him like a vice. He knew that you deserved the truth, deserved to know why he was holding back, but he couldn’t bring himself to cross that line. Not when he was so afraid of what it might mean—both for you and for him.

“Just drop it, (Y/N), please”, he finally said, his voice rough with barely restrained emotion. He looked away, unable to meet your gaze any longer, his fists clenching at his sides in frustration. “I can’t… I just can’t talk about this right now”.

The hurt in your eyes was like a punch to the gut, and he hated himself for putting that look on your face. But he couldn’t let himself give in to the emotions that were threatening to spill over. He couldn’t let himself feel the things he was so desperately trying to bury.

You didn’t respond right away, and the silence that stretched between you was almost unbearable. Dean could feel the tension, the weight of all the things left unsaid hanging in the air. He wanted to reach out, to say something—anything—that might make this easier, but the words wouldn’t come.

Finally, you let out a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay, Dean. I’ll drop it. But this isn’t over. You know that, right?”.

He nodded stiffly, still not looking at you. “Yeah, I know”.

Just as the weight of your conversation hung heavy between you, the tension was interrupted by the sound of Sam’s footsteps echoing through the hallway as he returned from the kitchen. He entered the room, holding a fresh beer, his easy-going demeanor a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside Dean.

Sam moved back to his seat and began eating again, filling the silence with casual conversation about the hunt, the case details, and the plan for the next few days. You responded when necessary, but your mind was clearly elsewhere.

As the meal was finished, the clatter of chopsticks and rustling of takeout containers filled the room as you and Sam cleared away your dishes. When you stood up to take the empty containers to the trash, Dean’s gaze was drawn to you despite himself.

As you moved around the table, reaching for Dean’s empty container, his eyes couldn’t help but trace the lines of your figure. Those little shorts you wore hugged your hips, thighs, and ass in a way that made it impossible for him to look away. The way they glided over your curves, emphasizing every inch of your form, made his breath hitch in his throat. He cursed himself silently, trying to fight the heat rising in his chest, but it was no use.

For a moment, time seemed to slow as he watched you, every detail of your appearance seared into his mind. He knew he shouldn’t be looking, knew that it was wrong to let his thoughts go where they were inevitably headed, but the pull was too strong, too overwhelming.

When you bent down slightly to pick up the containers, giving him an even better view, Dean had to physically force himself to look away, his fists clenching tightly under the table. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something darker twisting inside him. He had never wanted anything more than he wanted to protect you, but this was different. This was something he couldn’t control, something that threatened to consume him if he wasn’t careful.

You straightened up and caught Dean’s gaze as you turned back toward the kitchen. The brief eye contact was electric, like a jolt of energy passing between you. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes, the lingering hurt from your earlier conversation, but there was something else too—a flicker of something that mirrored the turmoil in his own heart.

You held his gaze for a moment longer, as if searching for something in his eyes, before turning and heading to the kitchen to dispose of the trash. As soon as you were out of sight, Dean let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his body slumping slightly as the tension and guilt gnawed at him.

A week had passed since that tense evening, but for Dean, the feelings that had been stirred up during that conversation hadn’t faded. If anything, they had only intensified. Every time you were near him, it was like a live wire of tension ran between you, sparking whenever you accidentally brushed against him or stood just a little too close. It was as if his body was reacting on its own, a rush of heat flooding through him that he couldn’t control, no matter how hard he tried.

The situation had become unbearable. Every glance, every casual touch, made it harder for Dean to keep his composure. He found himself avoiding you whenever possible, staying out late to work on the Impala, or finding excuses to leave the bunker for supplies or to do some research at a local library. He couldn’t let you see how much you were affecting him, how close he was to losing control.

But today, it all came to a head.

Sam, ever the one to suggest a way to unwind, had floated the idea of hitting a local bar to blow off some steam. Dean jumped at the chance, desperate for anything that might distract him from the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He needed to drink, needed to drown out the thoughts that kept circling back to you.

As Sam and Dean discussed the idea in the library, you overheard their conversation and joined them, your eyes lighting up at the prospect of getting out of the bunker for a bit. “Can I come too?”, you asked, a hopeful smile on your face. “I have a fake ID, so no worries there”.

Sam shrugged, clearly seeing no problem with it. “Sure, why not? It could be fun, and we could all use a break”.

But Dean wasn’t as quick to agree. The idea of you coming along, of being in a bar where the atmosphere was already charged with alcohol and proximity, made his stomach twist with anxiety. He knew how he reacted around you in the safe confines of the bunker—how much worse would it be with a few drinks in him and you looking the way you did? It was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking between you and Sam, searching for an excuse to say no. “I don’t know…”, he started, trying to keep his voice steady. “Maybe it’s not the best idea”.

You frowned, clearly disappointed by his reluctance. “Why not? I’m not a kid, Dean. I can handle a night out”.

Sam glanced at Dean, noticing the tension in his brother’s posture, but he didn’t seem to grasp the full extent of what was going on. “Come on, Dean. It’s just one night. Let her come with us. It’ll be fun”.

Dean wanted to argue, to come up with some reason why you should stay behind, but the look on your face stopped him. Dean knew that if he pushed too hard, it would only make things worse, make you more determined to prove you could handle it.

With a resigned sigh, Dean finally nodded, though his expression remained tight. “Fine. But you´ll behave”.

You nodded eagerly, a smile spreading across your face as you grabbed your jacket. “Deal”.

Dean forced a tight smile, but inside, his mind was already racing, trying to figure out how he was going to keep himself in check. He couldn’t afford to let things get out of hand tonight, couldn’t afford to slip up in front of you or Sam.

As the three of you headed out of the bunker and made your way to the bar, Dean couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that tonight might push him closer to the edge than he was ready to go. The thoughts he’d been wrestling with, the emotions he’d been trying to suppress, were all bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over if he wasn’t careful.

When you arrived at the bar, the place was already buzzing with energy. The low hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter, creating a lively atmosphere. Dean found himself instinctively scanning the room.

Sam led the way to a table near the back, where the three of you settled in. Almost immediately, Sam flagged down a waitress and ordered a round of drinks. Dean tried to focus on the conversation, tried to relax and enjoy the night, but every time you shifted in your seat, every time your arm brushed against his, it sent a jolt of awareness through him that he couldn’t ignore.

When the drinks arrived, you raised your glass with a grin, clearly excited to be part of the evening. “Here’s to a night off”, you said, your eyes sparkling as you clinked your glass against theirs.

Dean managed a smile, but the alcohol in his glass felt like both a blessing and a curse. He knew it would help take the edge off, but he also knew it might lower the barriers he’d worked so hard to keep up.

As the night wore on, the drinks kept coming, and the atmosphere grew more relaxed. Sam was in his element, laughing and talking with ease, but Dean found it harder and harder to keep his focus. Every time you laughed, every time you leaned in closer to say something to him, it felt like a test of his self-control. The warmth of your body, the scent of your hair—it was all too much.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trying to hold himself together, Dean knew he needed a break. He couldn’t sit there any longer, couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 3

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan

[clockwayswrites]

Both Ways at Once Part 4

WC: 668, Masterpost

Jason inched forward and pressed his ear to the door Tim had just gone through.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.

There was silence, then “Where’s Jason?”

That was Dick. He’d been staying at the manor since it all happened. It was a little weird to have him a round like that.

“Asleep. He’s still getting exhausted too easily.”

Dick would buy it, of course he would. For one, it was true; Jason was exhausted. For another, Jason had been good. He rested when he was told. He ate when he was fed. He spent most of his time awake in the library just reading. He was passive.

He may have set them up, but it was their own damn fault if they bought it.

Dick let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know, I’m worried about that. So’s Bruce. They had Constantine bring in another specialist…”

“No good?”

“Don’t know. He sorta…” Dick laughed but it was strung out sounding. “He phased into the cell and then refused to let go of Hood. Or Hood refused to let go of him, we’re not sure. They’re in a meeting room now. According to him, they were basically torturing Hood by keeping him locked up in the Watchtower—”

Jason didn’t hear anything else. Blood was rushing in his ears. They were hurting him.

When he had come to in that basement, Jason had been confused. He hadn’t known how he had gotten there or what was happening. But also he had. Part of him had known, instinctively, that the huge man next to him was important and that they needed to stay close together.

His head had felt like it was splitting in two as what he knew and what was overlapped. His skin had felt too tight, like he had been stuffed into it. Everything had hurt. And so when his family had arrived and whisked him one way and the other man another, Jason had let them.

He had regretted it ever since.

Bruce and Constantine had sat him down the next morning, explaining that he had been hit with a magical spell that affected him mentally and physically. He had been split into two. He wanted to see the other part of him, but they said no. They had to find out more about the situation first, he was told. There could be a magical backlash. It was dangerous. They were keeping him in the dark, that’s what.

Fuck that. Jason had started using his exhaustion and pain as a cover as he worked to find out information. He learned: - The man was called Red Hood (no, not that Red Hood). - Apparently he used to look a lot closer to how Red Hood did. - The memories he knew of the last few years never happened. - They were keeping Red Hood in the Watchtower. - He needed to see him.

Jason was still putting together a plan, and now this consultant had solved one of the biggest problems about how to make it happen, Red Hood was out of his cell. Half baked plan or not, there was no time like the present.

Careful to keep his steps soundless, which was easy enough in the thick socks he wore to desperately try and stay way, Jason crept away from the door and took off to the Bruce’s study. He was grateful that while things about the present overlapped weirdly with his memories, like half dreams and stories, anything before he had… anything before Ethiopia still made sense. Anything after was a crap shoot if it was real.

The hands on the clock turned easily, his thumb print still scanned, and the door still opened. The way to barricade the door from the inside was the same too. It wouldn’t hold any of the Bats for long, but it was enough for Jason to scramble down the steps and over the the Zeta tube.

He just needed Red Hood to hold on.

He would be there soon.

He needed to see him.

-----

AN: So maybe I'm spoiling you all with another update today, but it is dark and stormy and I'm burrowed into a blanket with cats and a headache, and people have been asking about smol!Jason so I felt you all should get to meet him!

Stay delightful and dry, darlings!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— found family | inner demons prologue

pairings: leah williamson x teen reader

summary: reader discovers that family isn't always blood

This is a sort of prologue to inner demons, some background of readers' life in the early years when she transferred to the club.

Also, this is rewrite as I wasn't happy with the original that I posted.

There's always been tell-tail signs that you should've recognised, all throughout the past several years and yet you will still so obviously blind to it all.

It wasn't easy to come to terms with things, but the realisation of it all didn't sit right at all, and in turn you weren't exactly sure how to cope with it all.

It was clear as day for everyone else around to see, your mother was a complete narcissist, she was manipulative and gaslighting. It was something that she had been doing your whole entire life, always making you out to be the bad day in every situation and acting like she was the victim.

How were you so obliviously blind to see that?

You guess your niave self choice to always refuse to believe it, it was the easiest option to just do that.

Looking back to the last several years, your childhood was full of moments like it, but of course you had always thought that your upbringing was completely terrible, it could have been a worse situation.

Growing up, it was only ever the 2 of you, you and your mum. Your parents split up when you were little, the seperation was messy and ever since that day, you'd always been to blame for the reason that it never worked out.

You had always wondered how exactly could it be your fault? You were 3 years old when your dad walked out, so how could it be like that?

"You were always to much to handle, Y/N. He couldn't cope," Your mum would make the excuse, all of them long nights when you would have your tiny arms wrapped around her and sob your little heart out when you asked where he was.

"I'm here, you've got me. You've only ever got me," Her words were imbeded in your head from the day that you'd decided to try and have an open conversation about the possibility of finding your dad, "Why go and find him? Haven't I been good enough. I'm the one that's looked after you for all of these years, and yet this is the thanks that I get in return!?"

It was always something like that, a way to guilt trip you and you always ended up feeling for it.

Her manipulation was completely toxic, of course you didn't realise it until later on in life.

Eventually, you just choice to accept that for the reason that you had such an estranged relationship with your dad.

"Aren't you happy for me? I made it, mum!" You exclaim, you were so happy enough to share the news with her, but you were left so dumbfounded by her response which left you feeling shame and judgement for even wanting to tell her.

The harsh statement of this current conversation with the older women is leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and make you question every single thing in life.

"Yes, you have made it Y/N, but you know, you only have me to thank for that now, don't you?" Your mum once again found a wa to make it about herself, regardless of the situation.

It was always and only ever about herself, no matter what type of news you wanted to share with her. Why was so selfish to not care about you?

"I'm sure that you can find some way to thank me though," You listen to your mum continue to talk and you resist the urge to scoff, "After all of these years and the amount of money I have spent on football boots for you, you'd be nowhere if it wasn't for me and I think you owe me now, don't you?"

Her words stun you and there's a lot of emotions that are building up inside of you. Ultimately you feel confused, how can she manage to twist this to make it all about herself, but of course shes' quick enough to make an excuse to end the call when she grows bored of talking to you.

You should know better, every single phone call has the same pattern to end the same way and you always leave with a pang of guilt for making a life for yourself.

It turns out that this phone call was no different either.

You are so excited to spill the news of making it into the senior squad of the national team, however the excitement soon fades and now you're replaced by mixed feelings of confusion, anger and upset instead. You fight to hold back the tears during the initial phone call but now its' over, you feel on the verge of a breakdown.

You feel like your news is a big deal, you've only been a part of the arsenal women's first team for shy of a year but it feels like such a massive achievement to be selected to represent your country and straightaway, the first person you thought-- you wanted to call was your mum. You thought she was going to be so pleased for you, so excited about it but you can't be further away from the truth.

The conversation happened a week ago, yet you still couldn't let it escape your mind.

Ever since the phone call, you had tried to distance yourself from her but even that hurt to do. The women was the only blood related family member that you had, it had only ever been the two of you, sticking together through thick and thin.

"You seem quiet tonight," Your guardian and fellow team member, Leah, perches on the arm of the sofa as she looks at you in concern, "I'm about to start cookin' tea soon. How do you feel about chicken nuggets and smiley faces?" She wonders.

"That sounds good to me," You shrug your shoulders and glumly stare staight ahead at the wall in front of you, the TV is playing but you barely even pay attention to whatever it is that's playing.

Its' been a long day with training ahead of a crucial game in the season, but all you can think about right now is the conversation you had with your mum a week ago previously on a constant loop in your head.

You still can't help but think about the conversation; The bitterness, the manipulation, every single time you thought about it, it made you think of every single time that something else happened like this throughout the years.

Maybe your childhood wasn't as great as you really thought it was?

"Okay," Leah nods and smiles in agreement but she doesn't move away just yet, "Is there anything that you want to talk about at all, bubs?" You know she's only asking for a bit more insight on your current mood, after returning from her own rehab session to find you shut away in your bedroom, the entire shift in mood was concerning to her.

The usual car rides over the past week had been quiet instead of the raised music level and sarcastic comments that the blonde was used to, replaced instead by the quiet, dull mood with you slumped against the car door and staring out of the window.

Leah definitely knew there was something wrong with you.

"Nope, I'm fine," You stand firm on your reply, shaking your head and keeping your eyes glued on the TV screen, choosing to look anywhere other than at the blonde, who would be able to see right through you in seconds.

"Are you sure?" Leah questions, furrowing her eyebrows in concern as she could see the tears welling up in your eyes, "Bubs, what's the matter? You look like you're gonna cry," She notes, worriedly.

"I... I'm fine," You mumble, fighting to keep the tears at bay until you can escape to your bedroom and allow yourself to be vulnerable when you're alone.

You always feel complete shame to show any sort of vulnerability in front of anyone, let alone the blonde defender who has taken you under her wing ever since you joined during the transfer window of 2022.

Crying only shows signs of weakness, you refuse to be seen as weak.

"Okay," Leah exhales a sigh and taps your knee gently, deciding to drop the subject when she realises you aren't be open and talk about things, "Its' okay if you don't want to talk about it, but just remember that I'm always here to listen, alright? Anytime that you want to talk, I'm here,"

Unforuntately, you are too stubborn to not give in and blurt everything out there and then to her. You feel like you still need time to wrap your head around the idea and see things for how they really are now.

"Uh huh. Thanks," You murmer in repsonse, getting up from the sofa and shuffling away to the confined space where you can be alone.

Leah exhales another sigh and shakes her head, heading into the kitchen to make a head start on dinner but she can't help but still be worried about you. Of course the women knew better than to try and get you to talk if you didn't want to though.

The blonde has always been around to witness moments like this and the backlash of it, you hadn't told her outright what was going on but she already had an idea what it was about.

All of your upset stems down to the one person causing you to be like this and she hated it every time you were left upset when you spoke to her.

Every single time you and your mum spoke, you would always become quiet and be in a general bad mood, often resulting in lashing out at people around you as a coping mechanism.

You know that all the arsenal girls have their own opinions on your mother, but they would never voice them out loud to you, because you wouldn't agree with it, but you knew it. They know it wouldn't be fair on you as the youngest member in the squad, even after the countless times they had seen the girl upset by her own mums actions.

You were so grateful for every single of the girls on the team, Leah especially, she'd always been there for you since day one.

Ever since you moved in with Leah, there's been several nights where she would be the one to comfort you and pick up the pieces, waking up in the middle of the night to hear your heartbroken sobs and feel her own heart shatter every single time, wanting nothing more than to take away any sort of pain that you were experiencing.

It was heartbreaking for all of the team to witness and always sought out to comfort you, they knew no matter what they said, it still wouldn't stop you contacting our mum.

Ultimately, it was your own decision to make soon enough when you turn 18 and until then they would be there to pick up the broken pieces when your mum let you down.

It happened time and time again, unfortunately.

You have lashed out way too many times as a result of that.

None of the girls ever took it to heart of course, they were old and wise enough to realise that none of your anger was directly aimed towards them and there was much bigger issues to be dealt with.

They have always vowed to support you, regardless of what happens in the long-run.

"I... I should've realised sooner," You think to yourself as you lay crumpled up in your bed that following night, its' almost 4 am in the morning, but you were still wide awake with your thoughts spiraling.

You can't help but think about things, replaying every single conversation with your mum that you have had, the numerous times that you've started to talk to her and she's cut you off with her own problems.

Why was it always like this? It wasn't fair.

The first mistake was ignoring her gaslighting this whole time.

The second being that you believed her manipulation for years, always twisting things to make it seem like she was the victim in the different situations - first when you were a child and even now as your nearly an adult.

Why had it taken you so long to finally realise it after all of these years? Why couldn't you have just realised it sooner?

Without much realisation to the current moment, your sobbing aloud with a tight clutch of your pillow. The pent up anger is replaced by sadness and loss, your grieving the loss of a women who you have always seeked the approval off and now you realise you can never have it.

The phone call was the last chance, the reality of it all coming to light.

Every time you have now learned to understand that youwhen speak to her, it's nothing but a vicious cycle of emotional abuse, something you were so oblivious to believe.

As much as you didn't want to believe it, it's true. Its' clear as day of what it is but yet, you still find it hard to believe it.

It's your mum, your flesh and blood, so could she be like that?

The sound of your sobs were what woke Leah up, she's quick to pad out of her bedroom and push open your bedroom door to find you crumpled up in your bed, "Bubs?" The women stands in the doorway of your bedroom, her heart cracks to see you looking so distraught and vulnerable.

Without any hesistance, the blonde is quick move to be beside you on your bed and envelope you in a warm hug, "Its' okay, its' okay. I'm here now," She's quick to comfort you, she wouldn't ever stop doing that as long as you need her, "Let it all out, I'm right here," She adds.

Leah keeps you in her arms, gently rocking you as she runs her slender fingers through your messy bedhead, "Just let it all out, alright? I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," She reassures you.

As always, she's patient enough to wait for you to calm down before she gives you chance to speak, she won't ever push you to talk if you don't want too.

"L... Le," You cry aloud, clutching onto her tightly. Your breath becomes more shaky as sobs wrack your body, trying to find the words but nothing wants to come out of your mouth right now.

"I'm here, it's okay," Leah repeats in a calming voice, continuing to try and comfort you in the best way that she knows, but she already knows it's going to be a long night ahead of them, or day rather.

An emotional night that will leave you drained tomorrow for sure.

A vicious cycle on a loop, once more.

"Ready to tell me what's going on inside that head of yours now, hm?" The blonde quietly asks with caution, already having a feeling that she knows the answer to that question.

There's a brief pause of silence in the room and the blonde thinks that you wouldn't talk, but regardless of that, she still continues to comfort you and reassure you that she's here and not leaving at all.

To Leahs' surprise though, you do start open up this time though and the words spill out of your mouth without you even thinking about it.

"I... It's my mum," You mumble quietly, making the mistake to speak aloud than think it like you thought you have done, "I... I should've realised. I should have done,"

Leah furrows her eyebrows on confusion, "What should you have realised, bubs?" she questions about what you mean.

Snapping your head in the blondes' direction, you bite your bottom lip and debate whether to be open with your thoughts that you have been trying to buried.

"I should have realised about my mum, she's so... she's so toxic," You admit as you try to fight more tears from spilling, "Why does everything I tell her-- Why does it always get turned back around so its' about her?"

There it is. You've blurted it all out in the open, your feelings were laid out now and there's no more hiding how you feel.

Leah smiles sadly and continues to hold you in her arms, "I... I'm sorry bubs," she speaks honestly.

"So many people, so many people have told me-- They've warned me, you've warned me about her, but I... I never wanted to listen, did I?" You confess, the tears spilling again and you don't care a less if you look like a blubbering mess right now, but you still can't stop the emotions pouring out right now, "And now... now I finally realise how its' always been. Why is she like this, Le?" You question.

"I can't say I know the answer to that one, bubs. I wish I knew," Leah replies, exhaling a sigh as she can't fathem herself how your mother can be like to her you, her own child.

The blonde feels so much for you, your still so young and she always wished that she can make the situation better for you.

"Listen, I know its' hard but you've got us. All of us girls here at arsenal, we're all here for you and you're so loved by all of us," Leah continues to tell you gently, running her slending fingers through your hair.

"I... I just want her to love me, and she just... she doesn't even care about my feelings!" You state, roughly trying to wipe at your tear stained cheeks to the point where you made them red and angry, "Why does she always throw everything back in my face? Everything that I have ever done, she makes it about herself. Always!" You cry.

"I know, I know it hurts... I know that it does," You keep your head buried in the blondes' chest as you hiccup from the sudden breakdown in the middle of the night, "And I'm sorry that you have to go through this. I'm so sorry, because it's not fair on you, bubs," She adds, trying to comfort you in the best way that she can for you.

The whole wave of emotions leave you feeling entirely exhausted in the end, you are trying to fight to keep your eyes open as you lie slumped up against the blonde.

"Come on you, lets' get you back into bed, yeah? I mean you're almost falling asleep on me here, bubs," Leah notes your exhaustion and is concerned for your lack of sleep, trying to get you to crack a smile even as it feels impossible right now, before she gently moves you to lie back in bed.

"M' not tired," You mumble, trying to protest against the idea of sleep.

"I don't think thats' true now, is it?" Leah chuckles, tucking you into bed, "I'm so sorry that you have to deal with this now, bubs, but you know that you have a family here with us. We may not be blood, but we really do love you so much," Before you know it, your eyes are fluttering shut but you don't miss hearing the blondes' words before she presses a gentle kiss against your forehead.

You really had found your family here at arsenal.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[sillygoosealert]

I was so hurt after (https://www.tumblr.com/sillygoosealert/757389587337412608/stuipid-fucking-slut-i-hate-you) 🥹🥹, can you do a part two where reader goes missing after he left her but found unconscious/dead because of a reason (you could come up with one! :D)

AND ALSO, UR WRITING IS SOO GOOD, +1 FOLLOWER >.<

-🍞 anon (I will try giving you good requests >:)

I promise I won't kill myself, death is not my last resort

haiiii :3 so I'm making this part two but honestly, I might end up deleting both of the stories because I was in a bad place when I wrote that 😓 also..besides the other anon's rotting in my inbox until I respond..ur my first anon !! yippy !!

Implied Rape. You die, talks of being unsafe and how it feels to be assaulted

Love is a gentle thing, as is the innocence you once had.

It wasn't a gradual fruition to see that being a woman would change the reality of everything for you. They warned you to steer clear of dark spots and secluded areas and always be aware. The things events that were organized and reenacted are nothing short of gender-based violence.

You understood why you and many others were constantly warned, but experiencing it was so different and vile, something you should never have gone through.

Today almost didn't end with you dead, but you didn't listen to the one thing that was looking out for you- you. That day, your gut instinct felt something was awry.

The morning was fine. You got a quick kiss on Sukuna's cheek before running off to your garden work.

The garden is split into sections. Working in them isn't an issue- except the one furthest from the estate. It's where you are most likely to get harassed by other servants as it is where most people turn a blind eye to.

Your body physically would not go near it today, you just couldn't.

Maybe it's the black crow you saw out of the corner of your eye or the sinking feeling you got whenever you looked over in its direction, but you couldn't shake the uncanny feeling it was giving you.

But as a mouse gets caught in a mouse trap, you are lured into the back part of the garden when something that resembles a doe is staring right at you. Not wanting to pass up the chance to see something so pure so up close, you walk to it.

But as you walk towards the feeble deer, and it walks further and further into the now forest, you question if you really saw anything at all.

When the doe is no longer in sight, you think about how you got here. Is it too late to turn back? I don't want this anymore.

You don't get the chance to turn back, as a pair of hands are roughly groping you from behind.

What happened in the woods wasn't your fault. You were lured to the spot in the first place. Then, when you wanted out, the exit was no longer there.

It wasn't your fault.

When you don't show up to clean the garden, that one thing.

But your body was found before dinner, where the forest meets the garden, disrespected in horrendous ways.

When you mentioned the concern that you were being targeted by other peers, he recognized the validity of your perspective.

He knew you were being harassed, but to accept it was something he couldn't do.

It would mean several things to take action - the most significant being that you had a major influence on how he chose to address the situation.

The other is over half of the people working for him would be slaughtered if he honestly wanted you safe. That type of fear egged him on usually, with him being your savior at the end of the day.

Knowing the nature of these situations, something would have to be addressed sooner or later.

He was scared indigo at the thought of making that type of commitment to someone, but he wanted to for you.

The thought of death didn't scare him. He would tell death himself he wasn't afraid to die. However, the idea of you being beaten nearly to death, only to bleed out and perish, shook him to his core. This was something no amount of strength or intimidation could undo.

He doesn't find out about...your passing until he requests to see you after dinner.

The feeling that washes over him is indifferent, he doesn't know what he wants anymore, but he knows that he wants you back.

He will never know how the world could keep spinning after you were ripped away from his grasp, it should have been the end of the world.

You didn't want to die, you shouldn't have died.

That shouldn't have happened to you, you didn't deserve it.

Death is a pathic escape, I will not kill myself- not for my loved ones, but for me.

Songs referenced: Velvet Ring, The End of The World, N64, My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars, Crack Baby, Anything.

[autumnmobile12]

All right, here's the thing about the Todoroki fire-users.

Most forms of glass melt at a temperature of 1,400°C to 1,600° C.

Orange flames have a range of 1100°C to 1200°C.

So unless either of them can exceed the 1400°C threshold and get into the white flame range (1300°C - 1500°C), Shouto and Endeavor cannot melt glass.

But with a blue flame that burns 1,400°C-1,600°C, this bitch sure can.

So now that in the Ambush Simulation AU I've revealed Nine and his entourage are the LoV, imagine the opening scene of Heroes Rising:

Whichever henchmen they've hired to transport the cargo in that car chase scene are careening down the highway, the Pros are in pursuit...and so's the Vanguard.

Car accidents caused by the fleeing villains have put Rock Lock and company out of commission, but Shimura's motorcycle can maneuver through just fine, so he and his passenger are still in the game like it's a Greek chariot race. Nobody really knew the Vanguard was going to make an appearance, nobody knows how they got the info on what was happening, but hey, they're provisionally licensed and can operate under Pros now, so no one's going to complain about the extra manpower on their side.

So my thoughts and prayers are with the poor driver of the armored vehicle whose sole job is to focus on the road. He just wants to survive the night without getting arrested, his comrades can worry about the Pros behind them, he's more concerned about the Pros blockading the road in front of them, one of whom is Endeavor. He's not paying attention to that loud thunk he heard on the roof.

Things are already looking a little sticky...

...and then this crazy bastard appears in the windshield and starts melting the glass. Not breaking it; it's too thick to break without a weapon. Just slowly melting it so the poor guy has enough time to contemplate and regret some key life choices.

(There's a very specific image in my head here and it's the drowned corpse scene from the anime Ghost Hunt if anyone's familiar with that one.)

Anyway, the getaway driver just panics and veers over the guardrail and down the mountainside as it goes in the film, which pretty much leaves Shimura to stop his bike and stare alongside Endeavor down at the path of destroyed vegetation in horror as the sound of screeching metal fades to silence.

Shimura: ....

Endeavor: .... *slowly turns to look at Shimura*

Shimura: *doesn't look up* Hey, don't look at me. You created that monster.

...

And recall that scene ends with Endeavor heading down the hill to investigate the crash and finds Hawks already there:

Touya: What's the situation with my leg? It feels like it's either been broken or impaled.

Hawks: Actually, it's both. That's an...impressive compound fracture.

Touya: All that and I only got a busted leg? *sits up* Oh, no wait, fuck, there's two of you and Endeavor's multiplying.

Endeavor: *fed up* ....scared me to death, you shit for brains. Where's the League?

Hawks: I think they managed to warp out at the last minute. Genius here is the only body I found breathing or otherwise.

Touya: *cackling* Shut the fuck up, Feathers!

...

Shimura: You have got to stop smiling like you regularly devour the souls of small children and their pets.

Touya: *adrenaline wearing off, pain finally setting in* I have no idea what you're talking about.

Rock Lock: *standing over both of them* Exactly what was your plan back there?

Touya: Obviously, I was thinking I could get control of the steering wheel. Not my fault the driver had the nerves of a dandelion. Also, I'm not the one who thought chasing down an armored vehicle with four-door sedans was a good idea, so why I am the only stupid one here? Now everyone be quiet, my head is splitting and I just suffered the indignity of being carried away from an accident by my father.

Endeavor: Carrying you was easier when you were four.

Touya: The last time you carried me is when I was four!

[sleepiexx]

Can’t Lose You

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!Reader

Note: way late to the party of writing for Ghost but y’know I had my fun

Summary: A mission goes slightly off plan, Simon doesn’t take it too well.

Warnings: he yells at u lmao, mention of injury, mention of blood, mention of stitches

Word count: 1190

Mere seconds after the rest of the team cleared out of the room to take off gear and rest for the night, leaving Ghost alone in a room with (Y/N), he snapped. The stress of the recent mission got in his head. It brewed nothing but trouble for him, anger festering until it boiled over. Namely the part where (Y/N) went into the enemy compound by herself— as she’d been ordered to do— when, unbeknownst to the team, her comms were cut leaving them with no way of telling whether she was alive or dead for a large chunk of their assignment.

It all worked out in the end but that did nothing to quell Ghost’s simmering rage.

“You’re a bloody fucking idiot.” He growled, “It’s like you don’t care about your own god damn well being. You’re completely fucking reckless, do you even realize how easily you could have been killed!”

(Y/N) was surprised at Ghost’s hostile behavior, normally they were on good terms. If he was mad at anyone, it was never her. Not to mention that the situation had in no way been her fault.

She scoffed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger, “I was fine! Barely got hurt, I don’t know why you’re getting your panties in a twist over nothing.”

He knew he shouldn’t be this mad, the rational part of his brain could reason that it wasn’t even her fault. But he wasn’t thinking logically, he was thinking emotionally, and to him yelling seemed the only way to express big emotions, “It may not be this time, it may not be the next, but if you keep on like this, some day you are going to meet the consequences of your actions and it is not going to be pretty.”

By then, (Y/N) was pissed, “Jesus Christ, it’s not that serious, Ghost! This is my fucking job! I don’t see you getting onto anyone else like this. What, do you think I can’t handle myself because I’m a woman or some shit?”

“No it’s not that it’s-“ because I love you, “it’s-“

She was sick of the arguing and frankly could not stand the fact that he wouldn’t refute her claim of sexism. She never pegged him as the type, but sooner or later, most military guys showed their true colors.

“Yeah, while you try and think up some shitty excuse, I’m going to go get cleaned up.” She stood from her seat quickly, black dotted her vision.

Ghost watched from behind, confused as she stood there swaying for a moment. Quicker than he could catch her, she slammed to the ground.

He was filled with alarm as he yelled out to her, “(Y/N)!” He was at her side in a split second, turning her onto her back.

“Fuck.” He muttered. She was out cold.

Ghost didn’t even think, it was second nature to help her. He pulled her off the ground, one arm behind her back, one under her knees. With her in his arms, he sprinted to the infirmary.

“Medic! I need a medic!” He screamed as he neared the infirmary.

All heads turned towards Ghost holding (Y/N) in his arms. Any medic who wasn’t previously occupied with an injured soldier ran towards them.

“What happened?” One of them asked, putting on latex gloves.

Ghost was shaken to his very core, even stuttering out a simple response was hard. “She just- she just fell, I don’t know.”

(Y/N) was taken from his arms and moved to a cot where they removed all of her gear. Her green shirt was heavily stained with blood, just below where her bulletproof vest ended.

“Fucking hell.” Ghost whispered. His hands made their way to his head to rake through his hair but he was stopped by his mask. Instead, he ran his hands up and down his head.

He felt horrible. He spent this whole time yelling at her instead of checking if she was okay and she wasn’t. He shouldn’t have been yelling at her in the first place, he only now realized that. He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t even disappointed, he was scared.

They lifted her shirt, revealing a huge gash that was overflowing with blood. The medic who was wearing gloves pressed gauze down harshly on the wound to stop the bleeding as another medic ran to get the suture kit.

14. She ended up getting 14 stitches in her abdomen. The wound narrowly missed her internal organs; had it been a hair's width closer, she’d be in a lot worse condition than she found herself in.

Ghost was mortified, she could have died. She could have died and the last conversation they would have had would have been him yelling at her for something he wasn’t even actually mad about.

He sat at her bedside, mask rested on the table beside him. He didn’t want the mask to be the first thing she saw when she woke up; he figured that it would scare her, and he’d antagonized her enough for one day.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. His thumb rubbed over the knuckles on her limp hand. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Simon tilted his head towards the ceiling, blinking away tears. “It’s just… I can’t lose you, (Y/N). I know- I know you are more capable than anyone else at your job. Hell, I’ve seen it, seen how good you are at what you do. But, (Y/N), I love you, and I dread the day that someone gets the upper hand on you and you get hurt and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”

He stopped his monologue the moment he felt her hand squeeze his back. His eyes shot down to see hers blinking up at him.

“Good thing that won’t happen,” she rasped. She parted her hand from his only so that she could reach for his face. “Where’d your other face go?”

“My other face?” He snorted, holding her hand to his cheek.

“Your skull.”

“Oh.” He said, glancing towards the mask on the table. “Didn’t want to frighten you.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to scare me, Lieutenant.”

Simon shook his head, half disappointed that she hadn’t seemed to have heard his confession, half relieved.

“Oh and Lt.?”

He perked up to her calling him, “Yeah?”

She sat up ever so slightly before pulling him towards her in one swift movement, pressing their lips together. He was shocked by her actions but caught on quickly, kissing back with double the amount of passion she kissed him with. Her hands found themselves interlocked behind his neck while his came to clasp around her waist.

As they parted— hands still glued to the spots on either body that they held onto with a death grip— a spit trail kept them connected.

“Gross.” (Y/N) laughed, triggering Simon to laugh as well.

She stopped laughing to stare into his eyes, the ones that gleamed with love for her. “In case you couldn’t tell,” she started, “I love you too.”