#and someone who will hide in a box on the floor to hide from his senpai and just as well walk right up to him and hide his face
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When Jason starts to prioritize cooperation as well as vengeance, Tim suspects Jason's self-control still isn't that great. Since he's Tim, well...
He conducts some tests.
Hood is about to murder someone that they need information from when Tim calls out, "Hey, Hood, has anyone ever told you that you're a Decepticon wannabe who probably fucks himself to the sound of his own robot voice?"
Hood stills.
The drug dealer who sold tenth-grader Benny Garcia fentanyl gapes in a way that shows off his recently-missing teeth.
Hood drops the dealer in a heap and turns his shitkicker combat boots in Tim's direction.
Tim bolts. Batman will swoop in to continue the dealer's interrogation; he and Hood have figured out a good-cop-bad-cop thing, though Batman still seems bemused about the chance to be 'good cop.'
Hood races after him.
---
Tim makes it to a safe house off of Robinson Park. He probably lost Hood about half an hour ago, but it never hurts to be careful. Especially when---oh, shit.
"This place is filthy," Jason says, sitting on the kitchen counter that Tim never uses and looking with disdain at Tim's collection of empty energy drink cans, takeout boxes, and crime yarn. Jason's not wearing his helmet or domino, and he taps his boot heels softly against the cabinet door like a little kid. Not exactly danger signals.
But for a moment, all Tim can look at is the boots. It's stupid; the knife at his neck was closer to fatal. But the kicking had hurt the worst.
"Since you apparently have time to run your mouth," Jason says, "and since someone stole my target, it seems like we both have time to clean up in here. I went out and got trash bags." He nudges a box on the counter next to him. The trash bags are the sturdy kind, not the flimsy cheap kind or the extra-strength hide-the-body-parts kind.
Tim has been meaning to get trash bags for this place for three weeks. It's just that he doesn't visit often, and when he does it's usually when he's injured or tired, and he could get things delivered but that's a paper trail he could avoid if he just made time to visit the bodega down the street... "You're a trash bag," he says, even though it doesn't make sense.
Jason rolls his eyes. "Just for that, we're mopping the floor too. Luckily, I came prepared." He hops down from the counter and opens the little mystery closet next to the fridge. Inside: a broom, a Swiffer, a bucket, a pack of scrub brushes still in their plastic, and a jug of bleach.
Ohhh, that's why the closet is so narrow. It's supposed to hold cleaning supplies. Right. Tim definitely knew that. Tim definitely doesn't just have a roll of paper towels...somewhere...that he sometimes puts dish soap on.
He squints at Jason. Still no green danger-eyes. "Darcy and Elizabeth would never let you be part of a throuple with them," he tries.
Jason pulls out a trash bag. "They've got issues anyway."
"Helen Keller would make up new words so she could sign how ugly your face is."
"She was a socialist," Jason says. He holds the bag and gestures at Tim's kitchen table. "So we'd probably just talk about organizing the working class. I don't think looks would come into it. Also, way to be a dick."
"You're so pathetic that Jane Eyre would give up on you like she didn't give up on Rochester," Tim says, figuring he did the research for this attack, so he might as well use it.
Jason actually laughs a little bit. "First of all, there's a lot of power exchange going on in that decision, so jot that down," he says. "Second of all." He looks Tim in the face. "If I start to lose my temper, I'll leave, okay? Or you can just ask me to."
"Even if I asked right now?" Tim asks.
"Even if you asked right now," Jason confirms, though he eyeballs Tim's mess.
Jason's still holding the trash bag. Hands out, open body language, seemingly not homicidal.
Tim had planned for a lot of things with this encounter, including a body bag. Trash bags weren't one of his considered variables. He starts picking up empty cans. "This one can be for recycling," he says, dumping the cans into Jason's bag. New things from old materials. Jason likes that symbolism shit, right?
(Though...new things. Old materials. If there's anyone who ought to be good at that, it's someone who got raised from the dead.
Tim smirks and keeps the thought to himself. Operation: Limitless has been a startling success; he doesn't need to verbalize all his inside thoughts now.)
("Kid, I can tell you're thinking about a zombie joke," Jason says anyway. "You can only tell me after we've brought this shit-heap back to life.")
#jason todd#tim drake#red hood#red robin#castillon writes#this definitely isn't EXACTLY what jason did when he first came to the manor or anything.#with alfred and bruce supplying the cleaning stuff and the company#nope. no repeated patterns here.#definitely no feelings about causing the same fear of familial and or street violence that Jason himself experienced as a kid#and certainly no feelings about his own child self who spent the first month at the manor either swearing a blue streak or meekly complying
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it’s always when I have things to be doing that this happens but it’s like. I don’t know I’ve gone so far into weird love territory and I’ve been here so long that when I go back and really look at canon it’s like it’s new to me. because like do you ever think about how hanzawa masato just sort of DECIDED that tashiro would be the next captain of the ping pong club. like it wasn’t a recommendation or anything that decision was made. and absolutely if tashiro genuinely GENUINELY didn’t want to do it nothing bad would have really happened, someone else could have done it, sure. you know? but at the end of the day tashiro, in the midst of his running away, had that thought, like. not in a thought bubble but in a b Hold on
in the narration box. like it’s not a fleeting in-the-moment thought like the whole poor shmuck thing. I’m not explaining this well. it’s just you get the impression that tashiro thinks about things a lot and also tangentially kind of thinks about his hanzawa senpai a lot and that realization of burden is so significant to tashiro that he takes on the position of captain
and he doesn’t look him in the face when he does it, and I love it. I love when things are indirect and subtle and sort of reluctant because it’s human and speaks to sincerity and tashiro’s grounded…ness that he isn’t unflinchingly happy to do it. he still doesn’t really want to do it. but he will. and he’ll do it WELL. because and this so matters hanzawa masato just sort of DECIDED that tashiro would be the next captain of the ping pong club because he knows tashiro and has been watching tashiro as a fun kouhai who he likes a lot and who makes him laugh like literally no one else in the world, and he knows that he would be a good president because he is, amongst other relevant things, a good person. the right kind of good person! he wouldn’t have forced tashiro to do it because frankly he couldn’t REALLY force tashiro to do it, tashiro has a way of getting around things (pudding head….) but he decided tashiro would be captain, because he knows tashiro, and tashiro decided to take that on, because he sees hanzawa. he decided that tashiro would be captain, and tashiro decided to accept that decision because hanzawa decided correctly.
and tashiro cares, and encourages his senpai to rest, and we get the FUCKING.
that just speaks VOLUMES. hanzawa masato who notoriously stays busy for at least one of two known reasons that sound a little contradictory but aren’t actually is resting right now. hanzawa masato who is so weird and so unknowable to his juniors is wearing a small smile that, unlike so many of his other ones (ominous as they are, usually), shows for only contentment. he’s resting right now. like the tashiro gonzaburou hanzawa masato dynamic IS so weird I’m not delusional for that. but my favorite thing that I think I do a really bad job of showing is that their exchanges go back and forth and are so much fun for the both of them, and it’s exactly like PING PONG. well matched and silly and hanzawa masato knows tashiro gonzaburou and if tashiro gonzaburou doesn’t know hanzawa masato he sure as hell sees him, and wants to know him, just a little at least, and it’s all so much. I’m resting right now. fuck. anyway
#bangs fist on the floor. is on the floor.#hanzawa to tashiro#hanzashiro#and really the fact that tashiro is hiding around the corner to hear the milk tea exchange with miyano. and then brings him some#ASSUMING HE DIDN’T ALREADY KNOW. it’s just like. i wish i was more comfortable writing tashiro he’s so much to me#silly little guy for sure. but intentionally taking on a burden for someone else when it’s explicitly something he doesn’t want to do#(or maybe just something he felt he wasn’t qualified to do. depends. probably both)#and doing well at it. the person hanzawa masato is trusting in the most.#just. someone who doesn’t want to be responsible but will be and someone who old people LOVE and someone who accepts things without judgment#and someone who will hide in a box on the floor to hide from his senpai and just as well walk right up to him and hide his face#and accept the trust masato was putting in him.#like this of all things isn’t really a burden to masato because he’s. he’s RESTING right now. of all the pies he has fingers in#this might actually be his favorite. for a number of reasons that are mostly speculative#but it’s SYMBOLIC of a burden. am i making any sense at all. i might not be#masato is giving this one away because it’s not really a burden to him exactly. but tashiro is taking it because he feels it’s a burden but.#how do i say this. it’s not a burden to masato but it IS a weight on his shoulders whether he realizes it or not#and tashiro takes it from him—not unreluctantly—because he cares. because he wants masato to rest.#i think talking this long is manifesting a tin cap on my head. i should go#dirtbrain digression#tldr it IS weird love. but just not AS weird or the KIND of weird that i’d have it be. haaaah i’m sick
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oh psa but if you're in an industry that checks IDs and the person in front of you is clearly trans, don't make comments about anything on that ID. for instance saying "OMG your middle name's Danielle? that's my name too!!!" to someone 5 feet tall with a full beard is perhaps not the best choice one could make if one didn't want to put a neon glowing sign above that person's head saying "THIS IS A TRANSGENDER" to everyone they're with
#it is p funny tho going out places with cis / nb-and-always-presented-as-agab friends and always getting singles out abt my#id in Some Way and them always being like ??? wtf that was so weird what was up with that#and i have to be the one to be like 'remember that my id has an f on it' and theyre like :0 ....... >:0!!!!#like fuckin. the time i got id'd at goddamn jack in the box????#she was like 'yeah we have to check it on all orders over $25' which had never happened before and has never happened since because#its fucking jack in the box so every stupid order is over $25#for important context i was driving and bf in passenger seat was paying so id handed her his card and was way less passing than now#so once we left travis was like yo wtf that was so weird why on earth would they id someone at jack in the box?????#and im like well because i look like this and i handed her a credit card with the name travis on it and people making#up reasons to check trans-looking peoples ids to verify if theyre trans or not is unfortunately not an uncommon occurance#and he was completely floored that that was even a possibility#which like mood when i was doing bev steward literally the only thing i was thinking about on those ids was birthdays#course i was working at a theme park so we had ids from all over the country#and world but nonamericans had passports which are much more consistent than state ids#so id get handed someones id and just be like ugh ok where do they hide it on this one i have 50 people in line i dont have time for this#like why would i be wasting time casually perusing their gender marker yknow i have shit to do#so the fact that there are people who will feel the need to know that so bad that theyll do that is just wild to me and presumably him too#(working there was how we met and he ended up being bars lead then full water park sup after i left the job)#but yeah after he had his 'wait people actually do that?' realization he was just like '....well then good thing it was my card so we had to#give her my id so she'll never get to know for sure‚ get fucked' LMAO#ooh or when me and a friend went to trader joes and bought drinks cause i collect cool drink cans and when the cashier was checking#my id i made a joke to ny friend abt my picture looking like bobby hill and the cashier was like 'GASP dont say that about yourself youre#beautiful!!' which i believe i did have the beard by this point so it was a pretty obvious dig#and the picture super does look like bobby hill by the way like ill show yall if anyone's curious but literally no one irl has disagreed#except this one random woman lmao. but we get out and my friends like ????????? that was so weird#why did she say that????? and im like. well it has an f on it remember#and once again the :0 -> >:0 transformation#like it sucks having it happen but there is smth really funny abt watching friends so inclusive something like that never even#occured to them realize that thats a thing people will do and it just happened right in front of them#shoutout to my roommates friend tho who has worked at a sex shop and weed shop and changed my rewards account name for both to chosen name
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‧₊˚ what are we?
...nothing. right?.₊˚⊹
convienence. a means to end. that's all this was for both of you right? when katsuki is fed up with the crazed fangirls who just won't leave him alone, he works out a deal with you. it was just coincidence he had a huge crush on you.
☆pair. 2ndyear!katsuki x reader. tags. fake dating!trope, fluff, reader is academically flopping for a bit, pet names, cursing, fighting (verbal), happy ending wc. 6k
ღnote. sorry that this took so long lol! i wrote this in chapter form if you'd like to read it here, but this one shot is the same thing.
post-war brought troubles for a lot of the students in class 1-A. especially bakugo katsuki.
he had to completely relearn how to write with his other hand, had to learn how to fight without injury to it.
and he had to learn to deal with his crazy amount of fangirls.
his fight had been broadcasted, the manner in which he pushed himself to the very brink broadcasted to the world. his victory brought spoils, though not in a way he expected.
he didn't expect to be chased down the hallways every morning, to have a line of girls wanting his autograph as he ate. he didn't expect to be gifted things, things they just assumed he liked, but couldn't be farther from the truth.
luckily, you seemed to like chocolate. he found refuge these days sitting on the roof floor of U-A next to you during lunch, passing you the chocolate gifts he'd been given.
he hated chocolate. but to be honest, he loved seeing you smile.
"thanks 'suki." you said for the nth time, picking the best chocolates out of the box and leaving the gross ones alone.
"yeah." he sighed, glancing at you occasionally as he moved to support the weight of his head with his hands. he found himself speechless around you often. words failing as he leant into the comfort of your presence.
you were about to say something, he thinks. your mouth was open though the blaring of the bell cut you off. "oh, let's go 'suki." you said, holding your hand out to him.
he took it, letting you pull him up and holding onto your hand for just a second too long. you dumped the rest of the chocolates in a trash can and made your collective way down to 1-A. you laughed at how he seemed to try and hide behind you, eyes darting around for the general course girls who seemed to have nothing better to do than follow him around.
they didn't come though. he saw a group of them but when they saw your proximity to him..
they left him alone.
a lightbulb went off in his head, he mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. as he sat in class, eyeing your seat between momo and jirou, he thought about how he'd ask you.
test papers were being passed out, graded ones. "yo man," kirishima started, looking over his paper, "what'd you get?"
katsuki scoffed. "what do you think? another 100, easy as shit."
kaminari groaned beside him, "you're cheating or something! i got an 80."
"that's high for someone like you!"
"hey!"
"aw man, i got a 70. you're so manly bakubro!"
"yeah, guess i am."
katsuki tried to resist the turning of his head, he really did. but he wanted to know what score you got, if you did well. though from the expression on your face and the way momo patted you on the back,
not to mention the red ink used all over your paper. he knew you didn't.
"man this totally sucks!" you exclaimed, your hands clutching the paper of your test. "i studied and everything, i don't even need math, im a hero for crying out loud!"
jirou's teases and momo's comforts faded into the background as he only focused on you, and the nagging feeling for him to help you.
with another ring of the bell and a sigh from mr. aizawa, katsuki left early to try and beat the crowd of girls who seemed to pounce on him.
he didn't though, he found himself at the entrance at U-A, almost to freedom when the crowd pointed at him, "that's him! i can't believe it!"
"dynamite, an autograph please?"
"hey- don't be so casual. it's lord explosion--"
"who cares? i want a photo!"
at that, they chased him. all his progress down the stairs and through the halls was gone as he was led right back down to class 1-A. he stupidly lead himself right back into a corner.
his head darted around, until he noticed a tuft of familiar hair in the classroom. you hadn't left? oh well, he needed your help and quick.
you were sobbing internally, looking over your horrific test score with a sad expression. a 70? you might as well just drop out now.
as the hours of studying you'd done for waste passed over in your mind, a noise caught you off guard.
he had burst in, making your deflated form jump off the desk. "katsuki, don't scare me like that!"
he rushed over to your side, grabbing your hand off where it was hanging limply on the desk. "be my girlfriend for a second."
the words barely even processed in your brain before you were being manhandled off the desk, your mind rushed to catch up. "wait-- wha-"
before you knew it you were led towards the door of obsessed fan girls. his hand was intertwined tightly with yours, a slight flush on his face.
"listen up." he started, making his fans shush eachother. "my girlfriend hasn't been appreciating all your bullshit. and neither have i, so for the love of god stop it already."
he pulled you alongside him, "move." a path opened for the two of you, letting you two through. he walked you to the entrance, no words spoken between the two of you until you stopped infront of the lockers where you'd keep your shoes.
"[name]-- uh." he took a breath, his heart sped up rapidly around you. it sped up at the simple tilt of your head.
"so. if you help me with this shit, i'll tutor you.
or whatever."
a hand was behind his head, his averted eyes now focusing on you as he awaited your answer with baited breath.
you had an expression of thoughtfulness on your face. your finger on your chin as you looked up to the ceiling to think.
'have everyone think youre dating a cute boy and get a tutor?'
the pinkie of your hand shot out, a closed eye smile on your face. "i'm in!"
a soft smile graced his lips, his pinkie intertwining with yours and sealing his fate in more ways than one.
because you really did have him wrapped around your finger. literally and figuratively.
"let's go to my room so we can talk over it!"
you really were going to be the death of him.
it's not like he'd never been to your room, just not in a situation like this.
not when he'd declared himself your boyfriend an hour earlier, not when his hands were sweaty with his nervousness, and not when you'd agreed so hastily to be his.
he wondered if you'd accept if anyone else asked you. if izuku or todoroki had been facing this situation instead of him.
"'suki?" you patted the side of your bed next to you, "sit with me."
he sighed, the thoughts disappearing from his mind at your words. he really was whipped for you.
"yeah, yeah. i'm goin'" he sat beside you, oddly stiffer than normal. he held his own hands as he waited for you to say something.
"okay, so, we should have like-- a plan or something right?"
"a plan? what the fuck for?"
"like so we don't get caught faking this or whatever. if they find out your fans will just come back running, no?"
he shuddered at the thought. "yeah, don't wanna deal with that shit."
"right? so the first part of our plan, is that everyone has to think we're dating. cool?"
katsuki's mind was racing. cool? more like the best thing that would happen to him. he felt as if everyone knew of his crush on you.. except for you.
being to say he was all yours and that you were all his, even if it was a lie..
"yeah, it's cool."
"great, that's really the only thing we had to establish. we hang out a lot anyways so, we'll just have to be affectionate or something to seal the deal."
his heart jumped at the idea of hugging you, wrapping an arm around you, holding hands with you in public. the ghost of a smile came over him.
"right."
"cool. so nothing else matter--"
"we're starting your studying shit tomorrow. the next test is next week, so we don't have time to play around [name]."
"ughh. i wish you forgot about that." your head fell into your hands. "i hate math, what do i even need it for?"
"advanced math, nothing really. but estimates are important in hero work. estimating time, the abilities of your body, the amount of civilians, all that stuff."
"you're such a nerd."
"hah?"
he continued explaining the importance of math to you despite your grievances. his finger was pointed in the air, you swore you could see the need emoji popping over his face.
your eyes closed, the weight of the day, your grade, and the thought of studying alongside a nerd like katsuki tiring you to no avail. you yawned, laying your head on his shoulder.
you could hear the thumping of his heart, the racing of his blood in his veins. it rocked you to sleep, "wake me up later, m' a take a nap." you mumbled against his shoulder, before falling asleep.
his mouth shut, eyes peeled on your body that now clung to his side. his face grew hot, when did it get so hot in your damn room?
he tried his best to stay awake, to let you nap and wake you up in the morning. but as the clock hit eight o clock, the time he was supposed to head back to his dorm.. he found himself stuck in place.
not by an invisible force, not by some obligation. it was only the thought of wanting to be with you, next to you. wanting to let the comfort of your weight next to him drive himself to sleep.
so he did. he fell asleep, letting his head lay on top of yours, holding your body closer to his. shutting his eyes.
the light of the sun woke him up first, you didn't close your blinds yesterday, and the sun shined brightly,
directly into his face. he groaned, his voice deep from sleep as he peeled himself off of you. he was confused from fatigue, wondering why he was still in your room.
he felt an arm around his waist, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to see it was you who was holding him close. he thinks you were using him in place of your huge teddy bear, the one laid neatly in the corner of your bed.
his heart rate quickened once again, wanting to go back to his room, but fighting the urge to stay looking at you.
an absentminded hand moved a couple strands of your hair out your face, pinching your cheek when he got bold.
you don't wake up, he sighed a breath of relief. 'til he felt your body start to stir, you pushed your head more into his chest, your eyes finally starting to open slightly.
"oh? g'morning kat'." you were sleepy, your words slightly slurred and muffled from how you were pressed against him.
"you slept here?" you asked, pulling away from him as you moved to stretch your upper body.
"uh-- yeah." he was once again lost for words at the sight of you, your shirt slightly pulled up from how you'd slept, your hair messy from the lack of a protective style before sleep.
"sorry for waking you up then, 'suki."
"no, i was already up. i just didn't wanna wake you."
"well, you failed." you joked. "anyways, you should get out of here soon, if iida sees you he'll probably flip out and tell mr. aizawa."
"right."
"let's walk to class together!" you clasped his hands in yours. "okay?"
you were going to be the death of him once again. "okay."
you let go and he got up, ruffling his hair slightly and looking back at you who sent him a small smirk and wave. before slowly walking out your door. he did his best to keep his movements quiet and minimal.
he was at the elevator, before uraraka walked out. shit. "bakugo? what are you doing here?"
"uh.. got lost."
her face scrunched in confusion, a knowing smile on her face after a second. "right.. tell [name] good morning for me."
".. tell her yourself." he got into the elevator, already seeing the grin in uraraka's face as he went up a floor to his room.
the same grin everyone greeted him with as he went to sit next to you in the common room, having made you some breakfast. he and you were all ready, you had refreshed your hair from when he was playing with it, simple makeup and your uniform ironed. he admired you while he ate his meal.
"ah, thanks 'suki."
"mhm."
you moved to whisper in his ear, "why's everyone looking at us?"
"fuck if i know."
"so you two lovebirds aren't gonna say anything?" denki said, putting his hands on his hips as he looked you two over.
"'bout what?"
"that you two are totally dating!" mina exclaimed, pointing at you. "and you didn't say anything? wow [name], i thought.. we were closer than that." she mock fully cried.
katsuki was about to say something, you cut him off though. "i thought everyone knew?" with a tilt of your head, a question mark almost visible from the blank expression you wore.
the class only sighed, kirishima shrugged his shoulders. "yeah, we should've guessed. i mean bakugo had a obvious crush on you for the longest."
"yeah, good looks man." sero gave him a thumbs up.
"tch. let's go [name]." he sat up, placing his and your finished dishes in the sink before you followed behind him.
"right! bye guys!"
you grabbed his hand as you walked out the door. nobody was around, there was no need to keep up appearances now.
but that didn't stop him from holding your hand tighter.
and that didn't stop you from clinging even more to his side.
it seemed you two were now together all the time. a clingy couple is what you seemed like to your friends, and more importantly his fans.
at lunch he could now be in the cafeteria again, you were stuck his side as you ate, an arm around you as you shared his food, insisting his cooking was better than the U-A food.
you were caged in by his body, you really did just look like a sappy couple to everyone.
during class, he was caught glancing at you. a lot. he'd roll his eyes and pretend nothing even happened, but everyone knew he was far gone.
during training, as you sparred you noticed he was going harder on you than before. some would think that because you were his crush he wouldn't get so aggressive,
too bad katsuki only wanted to push you harder, get you to show the strength he saw you unleash on those villains in the war. he wanted you to be stronger beside him, if he was number one, he'd want you to be ranked closely to him, because he knew you were strong enough.
that didn't mean it wasn't any more hard to fight him, the man was a maniac.
"you can chill out you know!"
"what? can't take it?!"
"no, slow your fucking roll!" you barely dodged his other attack, just barely moving out the way as he threw an explosion in your direction.
you now had met the conditions to use your quirk, comeback. by generating a max of 8 orbs, they'd absorb energy that you could use back for your offense. the only downside?
melee attacks couldn't be absorbed at all.
a kick to your legs sent you to the ground, you dispersed one of your orbs with the explosion stored inside of it.
"be nice and let me win!!"
"no."
he dodged your attack and pinned you to the ground. he won.
"you're so mean 'suki." you shoved him off you, making him grunt. "a good boyfriend would've let me win!"
a nagging voice in the back of his head was telling him he wasn't yours, you weren't his, and that he was only doing this for his convinience.
"well, i guess i'll be a better one next time."
even that voice couldn't deny that the way he cared for you wasn't anything less than real. that even if this relationship was fake, that he was undoubtedly yours. that the way he held his hand out to you, lifting you as gently as he could fathom.
"wanna go again?" he asked, a boyish smirk on his face.
"you know it!"
your plan of tiring katsuki out with exercise didn't work, so you found yourself in his room at his desk. showered and wiping the dew off your neck with a towel, you sat in front of him with a book splayed open.
he was hammering topic after topic into you.. statistics or something? you weren't really paying attention, you were more interested in the bulge of his muscles out of his tank top.
his words were a blur when you suddenly found yourself reaching a hand out to feel his muscle,
your hand squeezing it.
'firm. hm.' you thought, until he pulled you away, an incredulous look on his face. "this is why your class ranking keeps falling [name]. focus!"
"how can i focus with you in front of me? it's like dancing a donut in front of a cop!" you whined, face planted onto his desk.
"you're.. insane."
"you love me though, don't you?" the words slipped out of your lips without a second thought, your face flushing slightly. "oops, sorry! almost forgot you arent my like-- real boyfriend!"
he swore he heard a bit of disappointment in your voice, felt a bit of reluctance in your movements as you pulled away at him, saw a bit of longing in your eyes.
"uh.. yeah. 's fine. let's just.. take a break." he said, motioning over to lay on his bed and do nothing for a little while.
if you would've told him a couple months ago that he'd be sat, face to face, body next to body, hands awkwardly close to each other as you remained in silence. you'd had a movie on in the background, something stupid he thought. not like he payed attention to it at all.
it was comfortable, being around you. he'd be a liar if he said that he didn't like the fact that everyone now thought you were his and vice versa. not just his fans, not just yours, but your mutual friends. family.
"do you wanna try again?" he asked after a while, voice soft and his hand moving to rub his eyes. it was his bedtime, eight o clock sharp, but he'd break it for you.
"hm? to be honest no." you moved to face him. "you look tired anyways 'suki, you should sleep."
he grumbled, his eyes closing slightly as he slowly swatted your hand away from his face, his grip lingering on your wrist.
"right." he yawned. he didn't know if it was the sleep or impulse, maybe a mixture of both. but he pulled you closer to him. making you crash against his chest with his head in the nook of your neck.
"stay." he uttered, his breath flush against your neck making the hairs stand up.
"katsuki?" you thought you were dreaming. you'd move to pinch yourself if you weren't being pinned down by him.
"please?"
"..okay." your words barely matched your actions. you cuddled more into him, pulling him impossibly closer as you melted into eachother.
a blanket was thrown over the two of you. you fell asleep in his arms, the beating of his heart matching yours as you breathed a sigh of realization.
you were horribly in love with katsuki bakugo. and he was with you.
your 'fake' activities as a couple were coming along a little bit too easily to the two of you.
feeding him a snack in his room as a joke, him finding out he kind of liked being babied, him blackmailing you so you shut up.
all couple things. normal couple activity.
you didn't even have to continue those things behind closed doors, but it just came so naturally. it seemed wrong not to do it.
it seemed wrong for him not to sling a hand over you, not to hold your hand when it was so close to him, not to move the stray strands of hair and tuck it behind your ear.
it seemed wrong for him not to save a spot for you at lunch, not to wake up a bit earlier and slip out of your sleepy grasp to prepare you a meal alongside his.
not to make some breakfast for you, light or heavy, depending on what he'd learned you preferred.
not to walk with you to class, even walking with you to go see your general studies friend in the morning, leaning against the doorway with a smile on his face as he watched you rave on about a show you'd watched recently.
why wouldn't he do it if he could? why shouldn't he watch your favorite shows just to have things to talk to you about?
he found himself fighting to stay focused during your study sessions now too. he found himself noticing things about you, the smaller things.
how you'd flip your hello kitty pencil around while you were speaking. how you'd bite your lips in concentration, your expressions of disbelief when you actually started getting things correct.
he'd have to cover his hand with his face. you were just too cute.
sometimes he'd even get distracted mid sentence. he was explaining simple things over again, just to make sure you knew what it meant.
but it was hard even keeping eye contact with you.
"so, in this problem x would be.. uh.." he went silent, his mouth open but no words escaping.
"x would be what? 7?" you showed your page of work to him, with a nervous smile. "if it's not right tell me already! i know im kinda dumb, it won't hurt my feelings too bad i swear!"
he looked down back at his page. mentally slamming his head onto the table, before recovering. "yeah, no you're right. you got it."
you slammed the work onto his desk, "finally! then we can break now right?"
"yeah, 'guess so."
"let's do something fun. take a walk, my legs hurt from sitting." you pulled him up by his hand, dragging him to his door. "hurry up!"
he couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him, you really reminded him of just how young you two were. how he was just a high schooler with a huge crush, how--
"why are you looking at me like that? are you sick?" you placed a hand on his forehead, making him promptly rip it off. a scowl quickly replaced the smile that been on his face moments prior. "no i'm not. let's go."
you walked hand in hand, the sunset the background for your 'date'.
the last few days, he'd been nervous to bring up what was happening between you. he was nervous to ruin the odd relationship you two had, he didn't want to lose you. he thought the things you two had been doing crossed the line between friendship and lovers.
you didn't have to do any of this. though he was sure you knew that already.
"math exam's tomorrow."
"don't remind me! you totally ruined the moment you know."
"you'll pass. i mean, i was your tutor after all. if you fail with me as a teacher? you are a lost cause."
"that's not nice to say." you ripped his hand away from yours, crossing your arms on your chest. "thats really messed up 'suki."
he leant down to face you, the sun goldening you two in its wake as he grew a cocky smirk on his lips. "oh really?"
"yes really."
"n' what're you gonna do about it?" his face was barely an inch away from yours. with a glance to his lips, he moved closer.
he barely pecked you, before he heard a loud, obnoxious idiot speak from behind him.
"[name] and bakugo are totally making out over here!"
denki and kirishima were looking at the two of you, a glare crossed over katsuki's face as he basically dragged you with him back into his dorm. he was about to leave you at your dorm, the hallway empty since curfew was around the corner.
he held your hands in his, running his thumb over the knuckle of yours. he intertwined your fingers, only letting go after a while.
he tilted your head upwards with his two fingers, wordlessly asking for permission. moonlight now struck you two as he moved in.
uninterruptedly, he kissed you. deepening it with a pull of the hand, holding you against him.
he let go after a while, his internal clock signaling it was almost time for curfew.
before he left, he whispered to you. "i don't.. really care what we're labeled. and if this shit is real or not.
i just want to be close to you."
he turned, walking to the elevator. leaving your breathless, with your heart in your throat.
no more words were spoken between you two, not as you screamed into your pillow, and not as he stared up into the ceiling of his room.
you passed that math test. and each assignment that went with it.
the end of the year was now coming quickly, of the school year that is. you and katsuki still kept up your 'act', the activities now stretching to dates after school mixed in with your study sessions.
one's that'd leave the touch of katsuki on you more than the touch of knowledge. but it was working nonetheless.
it was all good between you two, an eternal honeymoon it seemed. after all, by now it had been at least seven months since this began. your class ranking was higher, he no longer had to worry about strolling through the halls, it seemed nothing could get in your way.
well, besides two things.
one: the fact that you two were scared to label in between yourselves yet, too bashful to call him your boyfriend and you his girlfriend in private, yet proud fully admitting it to others.
two, the girl currently straddling him with no regard to you whatsoever. your entire cafeteria table was staring at her, looking at what katsuki would do to move her off.
but when he didn't immediately, didn't immediately curse the girl out and push her off him? you did the job for him.
you yanked the girl by her hair, sending her to the floor with a tray of food falling onto her body. all attention was on you as you stared at katsuki, your mouth agape in anger.
"what the fuck bakugo?" you ignored her, even stepping on her leg slightly as your hands were agitated, your whole body was. you didn't even know why you were jealous. this wasn't real, it never was, he was just playing his role too well.
you should've known katsuki would go too far. he always did.
"babe-- it's not what you think-"
"then what was i looking at? and don't call me that. don't- don't fucking call me anything. we're over."
you knew to him that probably meant something different. you acclaimed the despair in his eyes to the loss of protection, to the loss of ease as he walked in the halls and the lack of paparazzi that'd ask him questions on his love life.
but to him it was so much more.
it was those things, yes. but it was more so the thought of losing you. the thought of the affection over the months being nothing but a memory and not his future. the thought of not having you close to him.
the thoughts of becoming nothing to you, less than a friend.
he didn't know why he didn't move, it was like he physically couldn't. the look in the girl's eyes, the grip she had on him, the weird smile. he recognized her as one of the girls who usually would be in the crowd following him around.
"you don't mean that." his voice sounded more desperate than it had in the whole time he'd met you, more longing slipping through than he intentioned.
but the sun's casting light had moved away from you, casting you in a shadow. "i do mean it. fuck you."
he was going to run after you, to chase you as you slammed your lunch tray into the trash. heading up to the rooftop to he alone.
but a hand, mina's, pulled him back. "i think.. you did enough bakugo."
she went after you instead, promising to bakugo she'd check on you.
fangirls were one thing? but a messy public breakup where you were never really something in the first place? surprisingly worse.
he'd been more snappy lately, his aura making the girls around him keep their distance.
he'd become quieter, closed off. you didn't come to eat lunch with him anymore, obviously. and he didn't go up to the rooftop to join you.
he didn't know how to speak to you, how to explain what happened, how to say that he was sorry.
he ran the scenario in his head a million times, thinking over the girl's quirk that had forced him into place. but it sounded so convenient, like he was lying.
but since your entire relationship was based off of one, he didn't know how to approach the topic in the first place.
a week. a week passed before he could muster up the words to speak to you.
a week of being ignored in the hallways, side glances and being walked off on. a week of not having you by his side, not having you to talk to, to study with,
to kiss.
you were alone on the rooftop, eating silently as you felt a presence behind you. you saw his hair in the shadow and sighed, placing your plate onto the floor next to you. "what?"
"let me talk."
"...fine."
he breathed a sigh, hands balling as he forced the words out. "i know what you saw. and i know it was bad, but listen. that.. girl. she had some quirk on me or something."
he paused, seeing as your movement shifted. he took the fact that you didn't leave as a sign to continue.
"i couldn't move, i would've. you know that. but, it was right for you to be fucking pissed. i'd be too.
and i know, this is my fault in a way. i've been.. a fuckin' loser about this." his hand went up to support his head, his eyes averting from where he felt yours eyeing him.
"i needed to ask you out, officially i mean, a long time ago. it was wrong of me to use you-"
"it wasn't like that and you know it." you moved now to face him, you taking his hands in yours once more.
"what are we? to you i mean."
"right now..
we're nothing, right?"
your eyes widened, his eyes came back to look at yours.
"what?"
the words settled between you, it sent a cold shiver down your spine at the implication.
"wait-- fuck i'm messing this shit up. i mean, we're, not anything right now. we weren't anything."
your heart sank, eyes falling to the floor though your hand still held by him. your bleeding heart was in his grasp too, it was apparent.
"but,
i'd like to be? if you'd have me."
he squeezed your hand tightly. "i, i think i did this all out of order. but, would you go out with me?"
you let out an anxious laugh mixed with emotion. relief? despair? you honestly didn't know. tears burned the corners of your eyes.
"you're-- you're real weird, you know that?"
"is that a no."
"no, it's a yes. i think."
"ya think?"
"you don't get to question me!"
"yeah, whatever." you shared a laugh of relief together. he held you, moving away to bring something out of his pocket.
a small bento box for you.
you gasped at the sight of it, it was so cute. "thank god! i hate this school shit." you sat down, patting the side beside you, prompting him to sit down.
"wow, a heart? don't tell me you like me or something katsuki."
instead of deflecting, of telling you to buzz off, of shoving you lightly, a small smile came over his lips once again. after a beat, he laughed boyishly.
"you caught me."
...
he patted your back as you choked on the heart shaped seaweed.
your first date was cute, a small picnic with the country of musatafu as your backdrop. it was weird, this scene had played out between you two various times. in his room, in public, in private, to everyone else you two had just recovered from a messy breakup. and yet,
your stomachs were filled with butterflies at the affection between you two.
your rank was high, the dates were endless between the two of you now. study dates, just going to cafes, mundane things became more when you were by each others side.
years passed, and your poor dorm was going mostly unused. you'd sleep in his bed most of the time, actually- you'd spent most of your time in his room. he even cleared out a section for you in his closet despite the fact that yours was perfectly fine.
graduation came along, your careers came rushing at the two of you.
you were the top rated woman hero, and he was number one. just like he dreamt, just like he imagined the future would be for the two of you all those years ago.
you were picking out some drinks from the vending machine, a pocky hanging out your mouth as you decided between two flavors.
you finally chose, having two drinks in your hand for you and katsuki when he suddenly dragged you into an alleyway, grunting when he pushed you against the wall.
deja vu? maybe, you felt like you lived through this before, the same mindless stampede of girls rushing past.
"i told you to clip down your hair."
"shut up. don't they even care that we're married now? why do they fucking bother?." he sighed, annoyed as he lightly grabbed the can out your hand, his frustration not matching his actions.
"well, maybe we need something that'd make it even more official." a lightbulb went over the both of your heads. you faced each other, a streetlight letting you see the slight pink tint of his cheeks.
"a ca-"
"a baby."
you laughed, keeling over at the sight of his face that grew impossibly red.
you went home, hand in hand, the photos of the two of you together making rounds in the media again.
but as you laid with his head laid on your lap, your head rested comfortably against the furniture you'd chosen for your home?
you couldn't help but feel like everything worked out perfectly.
and with the new addition of your family laid sleeping on top of katsuki's chest.
tags (can't tag orange :c): @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @amayaaaxx @i-the-fluffo @irenne-stans @hisonlyobsession @dead-fish-soup @pretty-sparkle-bomb @matchat3a @yura-4life @djlance-rock @zuzukusna @hiimsaraandyou @uy242c
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#this is kinda my peak i think#bakugo x reader#lilac's late night talks ✧#divider by cafekitsune#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo#bakugo x y/n#bakugo katuski#bakugo x you#bakugo fluff#katsuki x you#bakugo drabble#mha x you#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x reader#bakugo oneshot#bakugo imagine#mha x reader#mha oneshot#bnha oneshot#bnha x reader
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Various JJk men x Male husband reader
Tw: gbang,double pen,buldge,cum inflation, darcyphilia, spanking,forced marriage, dubcon,bj,polysex,cockwarming,almost NTR. Aphrodisiac,squirting
Summary:
As a husband of the famous Gojo who saved japan you always held your head high. Every man from jujutsu society is devastated to hear the news you're happily wed to the honoured one .But they always have a plan to have you in their arms, too. By having a gangbang with you and marry them after
Minors dni
fem align dni
PT.2
"Honey! I'm off to kill bunch of special grades, I might come home late!"
You hurriedly walked to your door to give your husband a good bye kiss. Being Satoru's husband is a blessing
"Leaving me without a kiss? How cruel" you jokingly said, you heard him laugh at your pun. Satoru pulled you from your waist a firm grip that almost made you whimper
"Kiss me" Without hesitation you pulled him by the neck, a quick kiss for him. You dont want to make him late you affectionately held his hands and also gave it a kiss
"Be safe okay? " Gojo gave you a warm smile, he also gave your hands a kiss his warm lips making you shiver
"You know how strong I am honey" Satoru patted your head and left your home. You didn't notice his dark smirk, eyes filled with lust. Gojo bit his lip in arousal
'Oh Y/N...'
After cleaning your home you took a break you sat on your sofa, taking a sip of the tea you made. You heard a knock from the door, you know it wasn't Satoru, it made you worried a little bit
You opened the door, your jaw dropped on the floor
It was all the men you rejected for Gojo
Looking at you with such lusted eyes looking down at you like you are their meal for the whole day
Frustrated you folded your arms glaring at the three Getou, Nanami and Choso
"When are you guys going to give up! Can't you see this ring I'm happily married!" You screamed at them while presenting your ring shining brightly
"Now now Y/N we just want to present you a gift for newly weds. We dont mean harm" Getou said smoothly with his charming smile he only use at you
Lies, its all lies and you can see it
Nanami cleared his throat avoiding eye contact
"We really meant no harm" Nanami blushed of how apron looks cute on you, he can't wait to fuck you already
"Congratulations Y/N" Choso gave you box with a cake inside, written ontop was 'Congratulations on marriage'
You felt slightly bad considering they went this far just to congratulate you. With a sigh you opened the door wider
"Fine fine, come in" you turned your back and walked to the living room you didn't hear how the three men breathed heavily, fighting the urge to pounce at you
The three sat on the couch while you take a seat on the solo sofa. You saw how Choso place the cake gently on the table, you crave something sweet today so you stand up to get a plate to eat the cake after taking off your apron
While you are rummaging to your plates the three men put a lot of aphrodisiac to the cake, enough to fuck you till morning
You grab a piece of cake, you look at the three men before taking a bite
"So how's life? Found someone yet?"
The three men clenched their hands, impatient. Their breath hitched when you finally took a bite of the cake
"We can't move on from you, Y/N"
Your body felt hot and heavy, you dropped the cake and the spoon on the floor
"Ah-ahh... wha-what is hngh! Happening?" Your confused why you suddenly felt too horny you and Satoru just had a morning sex
You tried to stand up with your wobbly legs, your cock wet from the precum its leaking. You pushed your thigh together hiding your erection but the friction from your clothes made you feel good
'nghh~ fe-feels good!more!more♡︎!" You drooled. You gasped when you realized your husband is not home. Your eyes locked in with the three males whos already taking off their clothes. Your body moves on its own, walking closer to them. Your knees went weak and fell on Nanamis chest. The smell of the mans cologne made you crazy and lose yourself
You rub your hard cock with his, Nanami groaned at the friction his dick is also getting hard
"Fuck, you feel so go-good" Nanami groaned also letting out a small whimper.Your bit your lip, Nanami's whimpering does something in your body
Getou and Choso stroke themselves at the scene letting Nanami have the first
"Go on, Kento, you can take him first"
Nanami wasted no time. He bends you over on the couch face down ass up he ripped off your shorts and boxer. His dick went harder when he saw your ass leak from being turned on
You still have your mind back, your mind is still not blank. So with your weak arms you tired to push Nanami away
"N-no you arent m-ngh!♡︎ husband, Ca-call Toru..." Your sentence was broke but they understand it well you saw Getou walked closer and crouch to give your forehead a kiss
"Satoru just buying something from the sex store for this sex we will use a lot of toys♡︎, he'll comeback later..." Choso also walked closer and pull your hair to make you look at him, you wince from the pain
'Toru...did what?'
"Right now, we, your husbands shall take care of your arousal" Your eyes almost rolled back how horny that sentence made you
You felt Nananami rubbing againts your ass, he opened the lube and squirted the liquid all over your ass making it look lewd
"Nooo...Nami haaa....st-sto- ahh!" You felt Nanami spank you leaving red hand prints on your ass
"You tell me that but your ass keeps rubbing on me" you sniffed in embarrassment .Your ass rubs on him not having enough patience
Without a warning Nanami dick plunge inside you, the hot burning sensation and the way it hit your prostate made you roll your eyes back and squirted your cum
"Oohh!!♡︎ cu-cumming!!" Your body arches as your dick continues to let out sperm. Nanami groaned and whimpered how your ass tightens around him. Getou giggled horny and hot at the scene infront of him
"You came just from inserting it? How cute Y/N" Your eyes let out tears as you lay limp on the couch, your drool soaking the sofa
"Ahh! Ahh! Haa! Ngh!"
Nanami thrust inside fast and rough, not forgiving you for rejecting him
Fwop Fwop
"Your so tight ngh!" You whimpered as you tighten up more, hearing Nanami whimper and let out sounds is making you horny
"Ohhh! Ahhh! Ah! ♡︎♡︎♡︎" your moans and whimper made Choso hot, he continued to stroke his dick. He clicked his tounge getting impatient. Choso pulled your head again his dick on your face
Getou continue to stroke his dick not stopping Choso, he understands how horny Choso already is
"Suck" Y/N hesitated and shook his head whining
"No~ do- ahh! Wanna...." Choso scoffed and slap your face hard, you didn't know why your dick twicthed
"Its not a request mmhm!" Choso grabs a hold of your hair, he pushed his dick on your mouth forcing you to deep throat him. You choked and your eyes rolled back. Tears brimming in the corner of your eyes
"Mmhm! Hmm! Ohmm!♡︎" The way Nanami thrust didn't help, it made you take Choso dick deep in your throat. Your hands went to stroke your dick ready to cum again. But Nanami pulled both of your hands taking him a lot more deeper
"Ohm! Hmm!" Your tongue continued to please Choso. Your eyes saw his face, flushed and horny. His whimpers can be heard all over the room
"Mgh...haa ahh your mouth feels good!" Choso groaned he thrust his hips the tip of his mouth hitting the deepest part of your mouth. Your jaw started to hurt already. You closed your eyes as tears flowed down your cheek. Your dick is now leaking precum staining the sofa again, your hands gripped Nanamis hands
Nanami smirked his glasses getting foggy from breathing hot air, his hips stuttered. Hes about to cum deep inside your ass, he can also feel your about to cum too. The way you shake, your ass twicthimg every thrust
Nanami leaned closer to your ear, with his deep voice whispering
"I'm gonna cum inside you" Your eyes widen, your body getting heated up
With one final thrust, both of you three simultaneously came. Your ass filled with Nanamis cum, your mouth choking on Chosos dick his semen also made you choke forcing you to swallow it all
"Mmhm! Ohmm! Mmngh!♡︎" you moaned,whimpered and cried. You kept cumming but your dick is still hard, you needed more...more!!♡︎♡︎
"Ahhh fuck you feel so good, so this is what that damn Gojo had to feel everyday" Nanami pulled his still hard dick watching a strand of cum connecting his tip to your rim
Choso also pulled out from your mouth watching you lay limp on the couch, your ass still up. Choso pulled back his hair already hot and sweaty from the sensation
"Your mouth feels good, I want- no need you everyday"
Your body layed limp shaking uncontrollably, your dick still hard, begging to cum again
Getou smirked of how fucked you looked, but not fucked enough. He will fuck you so hard till you can't speak, move passing out till morning
"Its my turn now darling"
You felt Getou big hands touch your waist, forcing you to lay on your back. He smirked darkly when he saw your dick twicth, hard and swollen stained with cum, your balls also twitching ready to let out bunch of your loads
His eyes moved to Getou catching his breath
"Choso lets double pen♡︎" Choso didn't hesitate he pulled you up from your armpits. Suprised you didn't fight back, he smirked how you just gave up
You felt two hot dick tip touch your rim rubbing it. With your last strength you tried to push Getou away touching his pecs
"Nooo- ahh p-please....Go-toru might see ahhh~ us!"
Choso and Getou suddenly went inside you without a warning, the grith of their cock forcing your ass to take their shape.You squealed loud body twitching from the pain and pleasure all at once. Both men shake and whimpered of how tight your ass felt. Both men groaned their dick touching each other inside you, hitting your deepest parts
"Ohhh! Shoo big! Im gonna cu-cumming!!" You came from the sensation the way they hit your deep parts sends electricity in your brain making you dumb on their dick
"Ooh! Big shoo good!! Ngh!~♡︎" the three men were shocked how hot and lewd your body reacts to double pen
The two men inside you only smirked darkly. They both simultaneously thrusted harshly inside hitting your prostate again and again without any breaks
Your eyes rolled back your pupils turned hearts. Your body arched your head resting on Choso shoulders. You saw his face eyes closed, focusing on pleasing his husband
"Sh-shit Y/N! You haa...ahhh..oh! Feel so good!" Getou moans are so much whinier than the two men
Nanami continued to watch the scene taking a break by drinking water
"Y-Y/N....mhm! Ohh!" Choso moans become much more needier the way his hips stuttered, his eyes almost rolled back of how tight your ass clenched around the both of them
Getou thrust was violent he cannot also forgive you for rejecting him. At your dumb fuck state you must realized now how these men are obsessed with you
Your hands touched the buldge in your stomach, whining of how deep they are inside you
Fwop fwop
The thrust becomes sloppy because of Nanamis' previous orgasm making your ass more wet
"Ahh! Haa! Ah! Choso~ Su!Suguru!" The two men suddenly came, moaning their name made them cum quick. You just had a strong effect on them
The feeling of being full to the brim, hot sweaty men all over you made you cum again. Your dick squirted all over, making a mess on your chest and stomach. Some got in Getou's cheek
Getou wiped it using his fingers, he put it inside his mouth, shaking on how sweet your cum taste
"Haa...n-no more..." But your dick didn't listen. it's still hot and hard
The two men stayed inside you, cockwarming them. Your body continues to be shaking, twicthing. Its your body who begs for more not you
You heard your front door open a familiar voice you heard
"Oh, Y/N! Im back! Look what I bought! Bunch of lube and vibrator!" The voice of Gojo made your heart drop, you saw him enter the living room. Your eyes filled with tears of how shocked he looked
"Toru....I'm sorry I'm such a bad husband..." You sniffled your tears, looking away from him ashamed of how you look. A whore who who just fucked his coworkers and friends
The two men inside you decideds to pull out, bunch of cum leaving your insides a small puddle of cum on the couch
You felt Gojo hands patted your head lovingly
"The others are on their way, Sukuna, Naoya, and Toji...so while we wait want another round?" Your eyes showed confusion. You want to stop, but your dick keeps getting hard . With hesitation, you nodded. After this, you want an explanation
#bottom male reader#male reader#sub male reader#male reader smut#x male reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#getou suguru x reader#getou smut#choso x reader#choso smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jjk x male reader#jjk x y/n#gojo satoru#choso kamo#nanami kento#geto suguru
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Ain't no sunshine chapter 3
A/n: canon typical violence someone gets stabbed (not you) feedback is always welcome
The clock ticks in an uncomfortable rhythm, almost pounding in your ears, you swallow around nothing and try to take a deep breath, only a few more minutes now.
Sitting cross cross felt childish but you needed the comfort of being low to the ground, before you stood a proud grandfather clock, the thing always intimidated you for some reason, maybe it's because you could smell how expensive it was, how priceless, but it was the only room in the house you could guarantee would be free of any nuisances, aka your estranged family.
A lone little Debbie cupcake in hand, a candle in another, you stick the candle inside the soft flesh of the treat, lighting it with the silver zippo, the seconds begin to count down as the wax melts, today was your eighteenth birthday, and the day you'd find true freedom. A day you'd been waiting for since you'd decided to wash your hands of the Wayne's and all who associated with them.
Bruce had begun to add to his collection of broken people one by one a new face was added to the house, and one by one you were met with the same cold indifference.
Barbara Gordon came into your life warmly, on the arm of Dick, she was kind to you in the beginning, making a point to ask you questions and listening intently when you answered, immediately you admired the older woman, her charming grin and bright demeanor was like a light inside the house, until she became who you eventually discovered was Oracle, tied up in the world of heroes and monsters, she too joined the club of exclusion, unintentionally forgetting plans the two of you had made more often than not, sharing inside jokes with Dick about last night's patrol or even taking on a mentor role for Damian, each action like a stab to the heart.
The last straw felt like the smallest one. And it came in the form of Cassandra Cain.
The girl came to the family under reasons you couldn't know, but she was troubled, you could see the same look in her eyes you had when you looked in the mirror as a child, she didn't outright reject your friendship like Damian, but she was seemingly as disinterested in you as the rest of your family, the real kick to your heart came when you walked past a moment shared between her and Bruce, he was comforting her, you couldn't hear the words spoken but you could feel the love pouring from Bruce, how he had a gentle hand on her shoulder, showing her a kind of love he'd never once shown you.
It wasn't her fault and you held no grudge against her, but it still felt like a slap to the face, and every time you saw her, every time she followed them down to their little hiding spot, the acid-like sting deep in your chest got worse. It was then you made a promise to yourself, you'd stop trying, no more reaching out to Dick or praying Jason would message you back, no more begging for Tim's attention or Damian's respect, and you were sure as shit done asking Bruce to love you.
You're brought back to the present moment by the loud ring of the clock before you, the echoing sound brought a ear splitting grin to your face, finally, you were done.
Blowing out the candle, you toss it on the floor, standing with a pep in your step. You'd had your bags moved out days ago so the only thing left was to leave. A chatter could be heard the closer you got to the front door, male and female voices happily spoke with one another, but you were so unfazed, too excited about your current plans to care they'd gathered without you on your birthday.
"Oh hey (Y/n)" Dick says after spotting your form in the doorway, see the only reason you were here is because the dining room lead to the front door, and your new found freedom.
You nod at him, taking in the sight of popcorn and half empty pizza boxes, a movie projected on the wall, ah so they decided to have a little get together?
None of your concern.
"Sorry we didn't call you down, didn't realize you were home" Dick says a look of pity in his eyes, "do you want some?" It's almost said with a wince.
"Nah." Was your simple response, and with that you walked out of their door and lives.
You'd bought an apartment with your own money, you'd been working since you were fourteen, saving every penny for this moment exactly. It was in a shit part of town with an even shitter interior but it was yours and you loved it. Water dripped into a mostly full bucket in the corner, the lights took a full forty seconds to turn on and it reeked of old cigarettes.
Yet you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.
Feeling that euphoric rush had you buzzing all night, besides the bed in your room was, questionable to say the least, so you decided to stay up. Cleaning what you could with what you had made you feel even better, this terrible little space was all yours, no condescending people or assholes in sight.
Feeling hungry, you throw on a black puffer coat and a matching beanie and start to brave the Gotham cold. Each step is taken with a new gratitude, the farther you get from that family the better you feel.
Your happiness is pulled to a grinding halt by the sound of rapid footsteps behind you, without thinking you turn, fist balled tightly in perfect form, Patty would be proud if she saw the way you decked the bastard running up on you.
You nailed him right in the throat sending him to his knees, his knife cluttering to the ground before your feet, grabbing the weapon you point it down at his choking body, your hands still despite your rapid heartbeat. The wheezing man made a swipe at your ankles causing you to bring the knife down right into his shoulder, a scream rips though his throat, the adrenaline in your body has you running on autopilot.
Kicking him in the side of the head to quickly sprint to the corner store where you'd planned on going in the first place, your hands shake as you grab your food, but again, that smile stays on your face.
Not only had you moved out today, you'd proved to yourself you didn't need them for anything, not protection, not validation, nothing, it was like you could breathe again.
The next few weeks are business as usual at the manor, until Barbara looks at the calendar and realizes she'd, along with everyone, had forgotten your birthday. The guilt ate at her until she made her way to your room knocking softly, a cupcake in hand she called out, "(Y/n)? Listen I'm so sorry about your birthday, I got my dates mixed up." The lie came easy, but no response was heard, "I get if you're completely pissed at me, at us but-"
"Miss (L/n) has moved out."
"what? How is that possible we would have noticed her moving out." As if to prove Alfred wrong Barbara opens your door, only to find a barren room, empty of any signs of life. She turns to the older man, a thousand questions burning on her tongue, but he seemed to read her, "you'd be surprised what goes unnoticed in this house miss Gordon, have a good afternoon." He leaves her with this and it only makes the guilt and confusion worse.
She pulls out her phone scrolling to a number she hadn't used in a while, biting her thumb as it rings she's hoping you clear all her confusion when you answered, but you don't, instead an automated message tells her your phone has been disconnected. Now she begins to worry, you were so young, just barely an adult, the idea of you out on your own in Gotham had her heart sinking, clicking the family group chat she sends a message that will change everything.
"We need to talk about (Y/n)."
#yananswers#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batfam x reader#neglected reader#aint no sunshine
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With your hands full, you use your elbow to push the doorknob and nudge the door open with your shoulder. You enter Ghost’s office, shutting the door behind you with your foot.
He stands with his back turned to the door, focused on the map spread across his desk. He looks over his shoulder and narrows his eyes as they fall upon the box in your hands. Although he doesn’t say it, the message is clear—he’s waiting for an explanation. You don’t blame him; anyone in his shoes would do the same.
“I need your help,” you announce.
“Absolutely not,” he replies, returning to the map.
“I’m serious.”
“Me too,” he murmurs, scribbling something on the paper. “Out. Now.”
“Seriously, man?” you protest, stomping your foot once on the floor.
He stops mid-writing, lets the pencil fall, and slowly turns halfway towards you. It must be the casual “man” you threw at him; otherwise, nothing would explain how he looks at you now, with one of his eyebrows so high up that it’s threatening to escape his forehead and shoot out of his balaclava.
“Please,” you whisper. “Just this one time.”
He lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes. “What do you want?” He asks.
“I need to hide this,” you explain and slightly lift the box in your hands.
He throws a brief glance at the box, then back at you. “Elaborate,” he orders. “What is it?”
“Cake,” you reveal.
“Cake,” he repeats and gestures with his hands to speak further.
“For Price,” you explain. “It’s his birthday.”
“I know,” he says, shrugging. “Why hide it?”
“It’s a surprise,” you reply. “He doesn’t know.”
He clicks his tongue and turns his attention back to the map. “I think the captain is well aware that today is his birthday,” he murmurs.
“Will you please stop with the jokes?” you plead, throwing a quick glance at the door. “He saw me carrying it, and I think he’s suspicious.”
“Nonsense!” he chuckles while continuing to write on the map. “There is nothing suspicious about someone wandering around a military base holding a....” He turns back and looks at your hands. “Pink and white striped box with gold lettering embossed at the top; what the hell.”
“What can I say?” you snap. “Lulette’s patisserie ran out of camo boxes.”
He huffs and redirects his attention to the map, sketching out little arrows and making notations. He gets on your nerves like that, yet he never fails to lend you a hand when needed. You just need to be more pragmatic. Convince him.
“Please,” you beg. “This is the safest place to hide it; nobody dares to come here without permission.”
He tosses the pencil again on the map, this time more forcefully, and swivels his entire body towards you, crossing his arms and leaning on the desk.
“Yet here you are, in my office, permission or not,” he barks and points toward the door. “Out, now.”
“It’s an emerg-”
“I won’t repeat it.”
“But-”
There’s a knock on the door. You both turn towards the sound.
“Who’s that?” Ghost asks.
“Price,” the voice responds from behind the door.
You turn your head towards Ghost, and he meets your gaze. The once scornful expression he had is now replaced with urgency.
He quickly looks around and motions for you to get under the desk; it has a modesty panel that graces the floor, making it a good enough place to conceal yourself and the box. You run toward your hiding spot and crawl under it while mouthing an “I told you so” to him. He brings his index finger to his mouth while pushing your head further into the opening. You bring your knees to your chest and balance the box there. Ghost quickly sits on top of the desk and picks up the phone.
“Come in.” He shouts.
The door swings open, and Ghost theatrically shuts the phone. He apologises to Price for the delay, explaining that he “was on the phone with one of the Sergeants discussing the upcoming mission.” You hear Price approaching, and Ghost dives right into the mission details without letting him get any closer.
After the lieutenant finishes his briefing, there’s something about the operation being on a tight timeline, how the captain needs everyone to be on point and Ghost assuring him how prepared the team is. They then delve into specifics and strategies, and you hear the map rustling, tapping fingers on the wooden surface above you, scribbling with the pencils and some subtle shifts in posture here and there.
Suddenly, Price’s voice changes direction, and you hear him walking around the desk. Ghost walks towards your hiding place and pushes his office chair closer, squeezing you further towards the modesty panel. You look up and listen to papers being lifted up. You hold your breath, and your heart pulses in your ears.
“Are these the documents for the mission?” Price asks.
“Yes, sir.” Ghost replies.
“Good.” The captain exclaims. “Let’s meet with the team and finalise the plans in the briefing room in an hour.”
“Understood,” Ghost says, and you hear Price distancing himself from your hiding spot, leaving the room.
Ghost waits a few moments, ensuring the door is closed, and Price is far away, before knocking on the desk twice, signalling that it is safe for you to emerge from under the desk. You put the box on the desk and slowly crawl out.
“I told you it was an emergency,” you repeat. “You didn’t listen.”
He doesn’t respond but grabs the box and walks towards the bookshelf.
“What cake is it?” He asks as he squats in front of a cabinet and places the box there.
“It’s a fruit tart.”
“Christ’s sake,” he grunts as he shuts the cabinet. “Who in their right mind picks a bloody fruit tart for a birthday cake.”
“Captain likes fruit tarts.” You remind him.
He stands up and walks behind his desk. “Be back in half an hour,” he states, looking at his watch. “We’ll do it after the briefing, where everyone will be present.”
“Yes, sir.” You nod and walk towards the door.
“And no poppers, no sparklers, no party horns.” He clarifies.
“What about party hats?” You ask.
“Party hats are fine.” He murmurs. “They don’t make any noise.”
“Should I save one for you, sir?”
He slowly shoots you the same look he did when you stepped into his office. “I don’t know.” He murmurs as he tilts his head. “Should you?”
“I guess not.” You whisper and clasp your hands.
“You guess right.” He whispers back. “Now, and for the final time, go.”
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fic#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon riley#cod ghost#ghost cod#simon ghost riley fanfiction#call of duty#modern warfare 2
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you: an absolute teeth-aching bone deep want to be loved and to give love. that hollow feeling behind your chest is too familiar and you want it gone. you just want to be in love, to treat someone with gentleness and to be wanted.
your 141 bae who has been in love with you since the moment he met you: ...i'm right here
gn!reader headcanons below the cut:
childhood best friend simon: let's say you knew him before he lost his family. a scrawny-limbed blond, always willing to extend a trip to the park or a cigarette behind school - anything to not go home. you'd visit him when he started part-time as a butcher in high school, wrinkling your nose at the smell of bloody meat but staying anyways, doing your homework at the singular table in the shop. he was there when you moved away from town, for college or a new job or any life-altering decision that he was secondary to, something simon could only hope to grasp. once he leaves for the military, you mourn your relationship and move on. simon is a blur in your mind, a reminder of snow days and sweet tea summers and leaf piles and dandelion picking, on a nostalgic shelf in the untouched corners of your brain. ten years later, you've finally made a name for yourself and truly gotten out; grown roots. but you still have this soul-deep yearning, some unfamiliar-shaped hole in your chest that miraculously fills when you open your door to simon, a grown man who's tired of wanting you from afar. tired of stalking your social media and writing fantasies in his head. tired of picking people to fuck just because they look like you, then going soft halfway through because their voice isn't the right pitch. he's here, and he's ready to do whatever it takes.
best friend gaz: now this is different from a childhood best friend, so keep that in mind. gaz is always this guy-next-door type with a panty-dropping smile and impeccable manners. this notion does him some good, helps him avoid some deep-rooted british military prejudices, but it also turns you away. you check him off as nice and place him in the best friend box. you don't understand how he tracks your every move on a mission, almost always getting caught by johnny or price. you miss how he grips his pint ten times harder when he sees you on the pub floor, dancing with some stranger whose hands are a bit too low. he tells you he gets rejected for being "too nice", but really, he ignores his 27 unread DMs and flirty cafe eye contact in favor of movie nights, prank wars, your shitty reality shows. he's grasping onto straws, can't you see sweetheart? when you're drunk and turn into a cuddler, he can pretend just for a second that you truly mean it. gaz lets your hands wander under his shirt, lets you murmur your darkest fear of never being loved into the quietness of your room, leaving you to sleep on top of your covers with a kiss to the forehead. he doesn't know what's pushed him over: you almost dying on that last mission, you making out with a stranger in a bar, you you you in those pants and that shirt and that's it. he has to say something. has to put it all on the line because gaz can't live like this anymore.
best friend's brother price: it was some one-sided crush, your best friend's brother with his suave teenage ways as compared to your brutal tween phase, acne and braces on the way. it had dissipated quickly, john never the wiser, his presence substituted with trendy band obsessions and first kisses. instead, it happened at your best friend's wedding. you were both in the wedding party, some object of fate throwing you together as your best friend forced you two to dance. you were tipsy on champagne, on the happiness of marriage, that you giddily admitted your fleeting childhood crush and how much john had grown since then. and that was it. john was always going to settle down, always going to have a pretty thing waiting for him back home, he just didn't figure out until right now that it would be you. he tries to hide his affections under friendliness, not wanting to ruin your friendship with his sibling, but john has never been discrete. he's suddenly invading your life with offers of fixing your kitchen sink, painting that one spot you can't reach, moving your couch to fit your latest pinterest board. you're practically family, love - which kills all your hopes for something more, feeling like a familyzone. but john means it differently, means you're predestined to be his, already accepted and loved by his loved ones and how could he not see it before? you refuse to accept his kindness and it absolutely kills him, so he scares off potential dates and any chance of meet-cutes with an arm around your waist and why can't you see him the way he sees you?
friends with benefits johnny: it was just sex, right? you'd been the one to say it, the one to set that boundary with your fellow sergeant. you didn't think johnny was capable of more, mistaking his cheeky smirks and booming laugh for being unserious, when in reality, johnny is as serious as it gets. he tells himself he can fuck you because he'll marry you one day, that cross sitting heavy under his shirts. he doesn't wash his sheets for weeks after that first fuck, too busy inhaling the scent of you cumming around his mouth, his cock. that is, until, you tell him his sheets stink and refuse to fuck him and he pretends you're having an argument as a married couple, all intimate and bored. johnny sees a recruit getting too flirty and pulls you into a supply closet using his best distraction methods. he sways you from joining a month's long solo mission, some stupid excuse about missing your lips too much when really he knows it's a suicide mission. johnny forces you to stay over after a midnight fuck, some bullshit about simon being up at that time and seeing you in the hallway on base. in reality, he treasures cuddling you with his brawny arms, pretending you're his willingly. pretending he's made peace with you, this wild creature, never tamed but understood. he can't force himself to ask for more, too scared to lose the crumbs he's holding onto. johnny tries to hide it with a fiery personality and a thick accent, but inside? he's a complete goner.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#cod 141#tornadothoughts#ghost call of duty#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#captain john price#john price x reader#captain price x reader#141 x reader#141 headcanons#fluff
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hii! I was wondering if you could write something about James meeting reader for the first time when he finds her crying at a party or something? and just takes the time to comfort her and get to know her?
Idk that idea just came to me and I think it’s so sweet and adorable 😭🙏🏼
Thank you for requesting lovely!
cw: alcohol
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
You thought you came in here to be alone, but it’s just like a boy to come and ruin your plans. And just like James Potter to be drawn to the sound of your weeping like a superhero towards sirens.
“Hello?” You cover your mouth with a hand as the bedroom door creaks open. “Is someone in here?”
You recognize the voice even robbed of its usual levity, cautiously softened for your benefit. Your stilted breaths continue puffing out of your nose despite your attempts to be quiet, and James’ footsteps come closer to your hiding spot.
“Hey,” he says, crouching in front of you, “you alright?”
“Mm-hm,” you hum pitchily. Your shoulders shake silently as tears continue gushing out of you.
James’ forehead creases. “What’s wrong, love?”
Your bottom lip wobbles at his concern, but you stay strong. “Nothing.” You wipe your cheek with the butt of your palm. “M’fine.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.” He offers you a smile. The effect, you know, is dizzying when you’re sober, so you’re not too frightened when it works the same now. “Would you like a tissue?”
You nod, and James reaches for the nightstand behind you. He pulls open the top drawer, one hand protecting your head from bumping into it, and procures a box of tissues. You take it from him, holding it in your lap.
“How did you know where to find that?”
“This is my best mate’s room,” he says. “Sirius. I’m James, by the way.”
You blow your nose. “I know. I know who Sirius is, too.”
“Yeah?” James grins. You fold the tissue and start wiping under your eyes. It does nothing to erase the mascara tracks already running down to your chin, but James doesn’t think telling you that will help anything. “He’ll be happy to hear that. I know you, too, though I don’t think we’ve had the chance to speak before.”
“Sorry,” you say, patting the floor beside you for your drink. James subtly moves it beneath the bed. “I’m usually better to be around, I think.”
“I don’t know,” he replies, “I’m having a good time hanging out with you.”
You snort. “You must have a low bar.”
James’ eyebrows raise, surprised mingled with amusement. “Can I ask you something?”
You’re feeling for your drink again, not having processed its absence. “Um, sure.”
“How’d you end up in here?”
Immediately, your doleful mood returns. “Kayla’s mad at me.”
“Kayla Chapman?” James tries to catch your gaze again as you nod at the floor. “Why’s that, darling?”
“Sh—she—” Your lip wobbles again. When you don’t take a new tissue yourself James does it for you, pressing it into your hand. “We were together, and she was talking to this guy, and then she just disappeared,” you say while blowing your nose. “And she’d been drinking, so I was worried, you know?”
You look to James for approval, and he nods.
“Right, you didn’t want her to get taken advantage of.”
“Exactly! So I had to look for her forever, I was totally panicking, and when I found her I tried to ask if she was okay and she said—” your voice cracks “—I embarrassed her. She was s—so angry with me.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” James’ hand lands on your shoulder as you hunch over your lap. He rubs it consolingly. “I’m sure she’ll feel differently tomorrow. You were only trying to look out for her.”
“She won’t,” you cry, having long forgotten your reservations about doing so in front of James Potter. “And she was the only person I knew here, so now I’m all alone.”
“Well, that’s not true, is it?” He continues rubbing your shoulder steadily, as if comforting drunk girls at parties is something he does every night. It might be, you don’t know. “You know me.”
You sniffle. “I meant my only friend.”
“What, you don’t think of us as friends?” James sounds appalled. “I’m wounded, sweetheart. I thought we were getting in some quality bonding here.”
You miss the humor in his voice completely, looking up at him through still-glossy eyes. “Are we friends?”
“I’d like to be.”
“Why?”
James' expression does something funny. “Do you ask everyone who wants to be your friend that?” You tilt your head, unsure how to answer, but he goes on. “I like you. You try to keep your friends from being assaulted and you’re clearly conscious of your use of paper products—” You follow his gaze as he glances pointedly at the two tissues you’ve been folding to use over and over again “—what other qualities does a person need?”
Your lips quirk just a little. James’ smile blooms all over again for seeing it. “You’re really nice,” you tell him. “I mean, I knew you were, s’what everyone says, but it’s still good in person.”
A little laugh sputters out of him, but James doesn’t quite know how to respond to that.
“I’m tiresome,” you warn him gravely. “You’ll get sick of me.”
“I know we’ve only just met,” he replies, still smiling in that always-sunny way of his, “but I don’t really see that happening. I’ll be sure to let you know if it does.” He regards you for a moment. Your face is a mostly dried-up watershed of makeup and snot, collecting to a point around your chin, but James is happy to note no fresh tears seem prepared to spill. “Would it make you feel any better if we cleaned your face up a bit?”
You blink and touch your fingertips to your face, brow scrunching when they come away sooty. “Oh,” you say. “That would be nice.”
“I’ll be right back.”
James takes your drink with him, grateful you don’t seem to notice as he dumps what remains in Sirius’ sink and tosses the cup in the bin. When he returns with a washcloth dampened with warm water, you’ve leaned your head against the side of the mattress and are staring into the middle distance. You still look heart-wrenchingly sad. James wonders if your friend is anywhere near as inebriated as you, and whether she realized that by leaving with that guy she was leaving you like this. Whether it was really you who needed to be looking out for her or the other way around.
“Back.” His voice comes out quieter than he intends, reduced to nearly a whisper at the sight of your pensive state, but your eyes lift to his anyway. You raise your head as one corner of your mouth tilts upwards. It’s a greeting and, in James’ opinion, a decided improvement.
He squats in front of you, palming one side of your face. “Close your eyes.”
James has always made fun of Sirius for his “angsty towels,” but he sees their true purpose now; your makeup hardly shows on the dark material. He swipes it over your skin gently, extra careful around your eyes.
“This is really nice of you,” you say. James decides not to let you know you’ve already expressed this sentiment. “This is, like, best friend level of niceness.”
“Best friend,” he repeats, delighted. “Well, if I’d known I was going for the promotion, I would’ve gone above and beyond. Lavender oils on the washcloth and everything.”
“Mm, you earned it on your own, though.”
James grins. Your eyes are closed, but you’re smiling too.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter drabble#james potter scenario#james potter blurb#james potter oneshot#james potter one shot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader#tw alcohol
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Backstage noises
Paring: idol!Bang Chan x staff!fem reader
Rating: explicit
Genre: smut
Warnings: unprotected, bjs, praise
As a staff member you get told to investigate some strange noises coming from the dressing room.
Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver
Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^
!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!
A/n: this is based off one of my first skz fics called ‘unexpected activities’, but with more content and better writing! Enjoy!
“Y/n? Once you’re finished packing up those boxes could you see what those noises are coming from the dressing room? Oh, and on another note please go and find Chan, none of us have seen him in the past 20 minutes.” Felix says, walking over to me with a concerned look on his face.
“Of course!” I say. Going back to putting the equipment that was used for the performance back in boxes, and putting them in the closet for later storage.
After packing all the shit away I remember what Felix asked me; he asked me to investigate some noises and to find Chan. I make way through the backstage hallway and reach the dressing room, Felix was right. There is a strange noise, and it sounds like..a man.. moaning? Almost like someone was pleasuring themselves. But in a dressing room for some reason. Jesus Christ how horny do you have to be? I question the situation in my head before knocking on the door, there’s no answer, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peak inside, I was asked to check what it was after all. I sigh and open the door.
“s-shit I was just..” It’s Chan, he covers himself with his shirt in a panic. “you could’ve Atleast knocked..” he murmurs looking away with embarrassment as his ears turn red from being flustered from being caught.
“I did knock, three times actually. there was no answer so I thought someone was in pain and couldn’t speak.” I reply, fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt.
“Yeah well….it wasn’t exactly..someone who wanted help…” His eyes drift to the floor. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it.. it’s not everyday that I walk into someone jerking themselves off.” I look up at him for a split second, his erection that he’s ‘attempting to hide’ is very visible. God I feel like a pervert for looking.
He looks down at me as well when he realized I noticed his bulge. “Uh..yeah, I mean, if you want you can maybe give me a hand..? I’m so stressed lately I can hardly c..cum.” I blush at his words, it’s strangely hot knowing that he knows it’s wrong since I’m a staff member and that’s not what I’m supposed to do but something about the risk gets me going more than I would have expected.
“Alright.” I nod, a slight smile forming on my face. “What if someone comes looking for us though?” The look on my face drops to one of concern. “I guess we’ll have to make this quick then. What are you best at? You know what I mean.” He asks me as I walk towards him. “I don’t know it depends what you want me to do..”
“Could you suck me?” Chan begs with need, his breathing slowly becoming heavier as his mind makes his cock twitch at the thought. “Okay, i doubt I’ll be any good though so don’t expect too much.” I chuckle and get on my knees, lifting his shirt up slightly to reveal his throbbing length, pre cum dripping down it.
“Shit..” he groans as I lower my mouth onto his dick, bopping my head up and down as I take him down my throat. “Yeah fuck. That’s it..” Moans and words of praise come out of his mouth, he puts his hand on the back of my head guiding me when he wants me to take him deeper, making me follow the rhythm he needs to feel good.
“I’d get you to ride me but I don’t have any protection. Can I fuck your face, pretty girl?”
I give him a thumbs up saying yes, as I can’t talk clearly due to his cock blocking my ability to talk from how far down he is inside my throat. I make eye contact with him, watching as his head falls back and listening to the noises he makes as he begins to violently buck his hips into my face, his dick going so deep I can hardly breathe, it’s amazing. “Gonna go deeper and harder, just breathe okay? Tap my thigh two times if you need me to stop.”
I hold onto his thighs for support, keeping myself on my knees as the force of his thrusts go up, making it enough for my small figure to almost fall over and loose balance. “Suck it for me. Take it deeper I know you can, wanna see your face as I stuff your pretty throat with my cock until you struggle to breathe.” Chan groans, pushing my head down onto him while he goes harder, absolutely breaking my throat. “Fucking hell.. I’m gonna cum. Drink it all up and I’ll reward you. Come on baby.” He says, breathing fast and slamming himself into me, doing one last thrust before filling my mouth with his seed, I make sure to swallow it all. After I finish swallowing he pulls out of my mouth with a wet sloppy ‘pop’ noise. I gasp for air.
“Was I okay..?” I mumble, hoping that I pleased him well. “You were more than okay. Tell me what you want as a reward, maybe… sex, head, kisses. What do you want? You deserve it.” Chan pulls me onto his lap, caressing my back.
“Dick..” I mutter into his arms. “bend over for me.” He smiles, helping position me over one of the wooden benches that were in the dressing room. Once I’m bent over I feel Chan tug my jeans down along with my panties, I let out a whimper as i feel the cold air of the room make contact with my pussy lips. “P-put it in.. I don’t care if there’s no protection just.. please!” I beg, arching my ass back. I feel him push into me, I gasp. The feeling of him stretching me out is one of the best things I’ve ever fucking felt, way better than any toy or my fingers. “So fucking tight!” He praises, pushing himself fully inside of me before starting to move, the room is filled with the sound of skin against skin. I moan as I feel his balls slap against me with each sloppy thrust, his movements become more needy and rough, his dick breaking my pussy, making it dripping wet as he goes on.
“Fuck Chris I’m gonna cum!” I cry out, hearing him chuckle in amusement as I call him by his other name.
“Want me to cum inside of you?” He asks. “No it’s.. it’s too risky.. pull out..” I add. “I’m going to.. FUCK!” My body begins shaking in pleasure as my cunt begins to tighten around him, i moan loudly as i cum around him. He pulls out after i orgasm, shooting his load all over my ass and back, before flipping me over to see my face, smiling as he sees how he ruined me. “So fucking good just for me.” He says as he grabs my chin, pulling my face towards him before kissing me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth as a result.
“Is everything okay in there? There’s more noises then before.. y/n? Did something happen?” We hear Felix call out from the other side of the door.
“Yeah don’t worry she was just helping me out with a little something..”
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GASOLINE ON FIRE
COMPASS ONE-SHOT • bad boy!Sanemi x Reader
A/N: a one-shot from my bad boy!Sanemi gang AU fic, Compass featuring Sanemi and Reader’s first kiss. It technically happened off-page in the first Chapter, so I thought I’d share it with you all now because I’m such a sap for these two.
CW: 1.7k • MDNI • mentions of explicit sexual content • mentions of masturbation • Sanemi’s been thinking about Reader in fun ways • first kiss • fluff/light angst
READ COMPASS HERE
You’re both seated on your floor, pizza box sitting in front of you, half-empty, alongside a couple of empty, discarded beer bottles.
“I’ve never had sex,” you blurt, prompting Sanemi to choke on his gulp of beer.
“What?”
You pause in bringing your own bottle to your lips to glare at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”
“I’m not,” Sanemi wipes his lips. “Who gives a shit about that — I mean, where did that come from?”
You take a long, pointed sip of your beer before setting it back down, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Isn’t it weird that I haven’t? We’re both twenty-one — but I’ve never even had a serious relationship, much less had sex.”
That surprises him. He’d thought about your days in school more than he’d be willing to admit ever since he chose your bookstore to hide in all those months ago. He’s devoted countless hours to wracking his brain, trying to recall every minute detail about you, in a concerted effort to figure out why the fuck he didn’t approach you sooner.
But he’d found that he couldn’t quite recall, and maybe that’s because he never had an excuse.
Still, you seem like you should have had at least the opportunity for love. After all, Sanemi can’t imagine someone worthier of it.
You’re staring at him, now, expectant, and Sanemi distracts himself by reaching for his own beer bottle to inspect it. “’S not weird,” he says after a moment. “You’re young. You’ve barely been out in the world.”
“But you‘ve done it,” you push, taking another swig of your drink.
Sanemi nods with a chuckle, setting his now-empty bottle down. “Yeah, yeah I have.”
You refuse to meet his eyes as you mumble, “And you like doing it.”
“Is that what the rumors say?” He asks drily, concealing his faint grimace by reaching for another beer.
“I don’t care about the rumors. I’m trying to make a point, here,” you scowl, finally lifting your gaze back to him. “I want to do it. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”
He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Noted.”
“I want you to fix it.”
His hand halts midair before it can reach the last unopened bottle, and he turns to stare dumbly at you.
You must be joking — or you’re drunk. In either event, there’s no fucking way you’re serious.
He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it — extensively, for that matter. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it just as badly as you seem to — arguably, even more so, given that he can’t stop thinking about it.
He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of you that way often — so much so that he hasn’t been able to get laid in at least two months, because he couldn’t stop picturing you when he was with his designated fling of the evening.
Hell, he’d only been able to get off that last time because he stopped fighting the images in his head. Ones that involved that flirty sundress you loved wearing pulled down to expose your breasts, bouncing as you rode him, or the blush on your cheeks he imagined would form when he settled between your thighs, mouth lowering to steal a taste of what he could only assume was paradise.
Since then, the only thing Sanemi has been fucking is his own hand. And damn, if those little images of you didn’t keep sneaking into his subconscious. And though he always managed to cum fast and hard whenever those fantasies bled into his mind, Sanemi also was left to feel nothing but shame afterward as he wiped his hand and abdomen clean, guilt hanging heavily over his head for thinking of you in such a way.
For daring to think you might want him at all.
But now, here you were, looking at him with all the hopeful expectancy in the world. As though he has anything worth offering you.
Sure, Sanemi knew you were likely asking him to do it for practicality’s sake. You were a virgin and you wanted not to be anymore. And he was there, your only friend, and he was someone known for being rather unrestrained when it came to matters of the bedroom (or, anywhere that offered semi-privacy, for that matter).
He was a convenience; nothing more.
Did that stop him from considering it? Of course not. He was yours to use as much as you wanted, as far as he was concerned. But he’d assumed his usefulness stopped at being an ear to listen to; a companion — not because of anything you did, but because Sanemi had never felt like he held much value outside of what he could do for others.
And really, being used for this purpose — by you, no less — wasn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.
But he can’t; he won’t. Part of him wants you to save that piece of yourself for someone who deserves it; deserves you. And that sure as shit isn’t him.
Part of him is also acutely aware that you’re tipsy and thus, the boundaries of your consent are blurry, and Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than dilute them further.
But another part of him hesitates because he knows that if he does give in — gives you what you both want — that he’ll only further distort what remains of the lines he’s drawn in the sand. Lines, he sternly reminds himself, that are not just his means of protecting you, but rules that he is bound to obey as an extension of the Corps.
Don’t get attached.
And yet, he can’t help but wonder; can’t stop his traitorous heart from swelling, or his mind from running with the faint possibility of what life might be like if he just said yes.
What would it be like to be close to you? To hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear he’d never told anyone else, but had secretly always longed to share? Would you moan or sigh his name? And if he was graced with the chance to see you fall apart — how would you look? Would you cry out, or would your mouth fall open in a silent o, your pleasure so intense that it stole the very breath from your lungs?
Never mind wanting and being wanted in return — what would it be like to have?
You rest your chin on your arms, eyes fixed on him, waiting, and Sanemi feels himself nearly break right there.
It’s nearly impossible to turn you down in a way that won’t hurt your feelings, but he has to. He has no choice.
He never has.
“Sorry, Princess. Don’t think that’s the best idea.” He reaches over to flick your nose before adding, “Plus, you’re a bit too tipsy.”
He hopes that his disappointment isn’t too evident on his face as he watches you; hopes that you cannot see the way his heart cracks under his own self restraint.
Thankfully, you drop your head onto your arms with a groan, concealing your face in your alcohol-tinged shame.
To his dismay, your obvious letdown punches at that soft part of his heart he’s reserved for you. His mouth goes dry. The idea blooms in his head and he’s acting before he can stop himself.
Just a taste. He swears. Just a taste. A little indulgence, so you know his reticence has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that he isn’t worth it.
“Hey.”
You roll your head to the side to peer shyly at him, a pretty blush still staining your cheeks.
“Come here.”
You lift your head from your arms then, cocking it in a question that Sanemi decides to answer by crooking his fingers under your chin and leaning in.
The kiss he shares with you is soft; measured. Your lips feel like silk against his, and it strikes him that never before has he kissed anyone with so much tenderness. The few kisses he exchanged with his flavors of the night were always sharp, bruising clashes of lips and teeth, each party more focused on sating their own needs rather than tending to that of the other.
Then again, Sanemi never felt this way toward those serving as his temporary distractions. He never thought of them as something precious; something to be adored, the way he does you.
You don’t move your arms from where they’re folded atop your knees, and for that, Sanemi is grateful. He knows that were you to move your hands to cup his face or even tangle in his hair, he would lose whatever thread of self control he possessed when it came to you.
So, Sanemi continues to kiss you slowly; indulgently. He never lets himself deepen it, never lets his tongue flick out along the seam of your lips in an effort to part them. He simply moves his lips with yours for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, though his fingers linger under your chin.
Only centimeters separate your mouth from his, and Sanemi can feel the sweet warmth of your breath as he whispers, “We should pick out a movie.”
You nod after a moment, still too stooped in the haze of his closeness to you. Reluctantly, Sanemi shifts away, his hand dropping from your chin. You don’t see how he flexes it over and over when you turn away to fidget with your remote, Sanemi unable to shake off the memory of your skin under his fingertips.
He watches the movie without really seeing it; his mind is far too preoccupied with replaying your kiss, over and over on a constant, never-ending loop.
He’d hoped that the small kiss would smother some of the fire that has been steadily consuming him over the last few months. A temporary respite to the near constant pang of longing he felt in his chest every time he looked at you.
What a stupid fucking idea that had been.
Because, as Sanemi sits beside you, limbs rigid under the incessant buzz thrumming in his veins, urging him to reach over and lay you back against the rug and make you his, he realizes your kiss was only a gallon of gasoline dumped directly over his fire.
And, judging by the way you keep your eyes fixed resolutely on the screen before you despite the persistent heat in your cheeks, Sanemi thinks you might be just as hungry for him as he is for you.
Oh, he’s fucked.
likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated!
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#sanemi shinazugawa#kny#kny x reader#kny fanfic#kny sanemi#sanemi x reader#kny fic#demon slayer fanfic#demon slayer smut#kny smut#sanemi smut#demon slayer sanemi#shinazugawa sanemi
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You are who you eat
Dexter Morgan x Reader
Word count: 2k
Summary: After finding out about Dexter’s after hour hobby you start to investigate him while teasing him from afar that you know what he is.
Part 2
Previous | Next
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Finding a reason to go up to homicide was easy I had an email come in from the sergeant but I also couldn’t be bothered to deliver the brand new computers to homicide yesterday like I was supposed to. I carried the box out of the tiny office, normally I would’ve struggled to carry something this heavy but hauling around dead bodies was unsurprising a great work out. I used my elbow to press the button for the elevator and waited for it to come down, I heard someone come up behind me and turned to see my mystery man. Boy does he have great timing, I glanced down at his ID and under his photo was his name, Dexter Morgan. Got you, I gave him a polite smile turning around as I heard the familiar ding of the elevator and stepped inside. He stepped inside as well tucking his hands into his pockets, it felt odd being so close to someone and knowing except who they are without them knowing a thing.
His expression was calm but I could tell from the slight fidgeting he wasn’t as calm as he let on. Like freak out by last nights encounter, I mean I would be too. If someone caught me just as I was killing someone and there was a high chance they saw my face, I would be shitting my pants and looking over my shoulder for days. Though I have no plans of exposing his secret because that would mean bringing into the question why I was at the car dealership, why I hadn’t reported it then, or of I didn’t mention that part what was I doing at Ann Cohen’s house that late at night anyways. No excuse I could come up would lose their suspicion so it just seemed far better to not involve myself in it at all, if anything it would be easier to just deal with this Dexter person on my own.
The elevator dinged again as we arrived on the next floor, and we both stepped out with our left foot as if we were synchronized together. Our eyes met again and we awkwardly walked out one after another, I let him step ahead of me and watched as he disappeared into the tiny room in the back of the department whilst I began distributing the laptops to each officer and collecting their old ones. I hadn’t been asked to do that but I figured if I didn’t do it now I would likely be sent to do it anyway, and I didn’t have a reason to come up here twice in a day so it’s not like I needed it as an excuse. Doing it now simply saved me from unnecessary work later on, as I got to the last laptop I found myself at Sergeant Doakes desk. My final task in the homicide department for today, hopefully at least.
“Good morning Sergeant, I got your email what can I do for you?” I said as I handed him the new laptop.
“Morning, I heard you were the person to ask about getting into some encrypted files?”
“I am indeed, you can just give me the device and I’ll get tight to it. Is there a deadline or can I do this at my own pace?”
“No deadline as I’m not sure if they will be anything helpful on there, but please make it a priority.” He pulled a silver Dell mini 9, I set it on top of the others in the box making a mental note to look at it later.
“Alright I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can then, if that’s all I should probably go deal with these.” I said raising the box slightly bringing attention to it.
“Thank you, please get back to me as soon as you can.”
With all my task completed I adjust grip on the box and took one last look around the department before turning to leave, my eyes drifted Dexter’s little hiding spot. I was surprised to see him already looking at me, his eye remained trained on me even as I turned away and walked out the department. A odd chill went down my spine as I recalled the look in his eyes it was empty and unreadable, I had definitely crossed a line today. There was no need to make him suspicious of me just yet, I still had plenty left to learn about him. I stepped inside the elevator and rode it back down to my floor and walked back to my office, and quickly started on my next task.
I decided to ignored the laptop for now and followed through with other requests in the building first, I felt it was better to run around now instead of constantly going back and forth. That way I could work on the things I needed to in the office uninterrupted, so I set off to step up a new computer for the deputy chief, helped track down a suspect using their phone for narcotics, and updating the missing persons website to showcase the recent disappearances. I spent the first half of my day running around and was happy to sit and work in my office until 4pm came around, I sat back in my chair and just took a few moments to breathe. I hadn’t made any significant progress with the laptop and honestly it was starting to frustrate me, I didn’t expect this to be easy but whoever encrypted these files sure as hell knew what they were doing. So instead of frustrating myself further I I decided to find out just who Dexter Morgan was, looking him up in the system I saw he had no priors in the system and seemed to be a relatively stand up citizen, too good of one to be honest. I knew it was a facade, considering I heard him say so, you can’t be a serial killer and not have a facade. I found that you had a sister Debra Morgan, I recognized her name from the news about the ice truck killer, but most importantly I found your house.
At first I considered talking to his sister and befriending her but I needed to stay out of sight for now, it I raise your attention any more than I already have it would be long before I might end up on your table as well. Of course that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to bother him from a distance, I needed some sort of distraction while I went through his place so I had a friend of mine give him a little surprise. I stepped through the open door of your apartment, I glanced around looking at the layout and simple decor.
“Dexter, you left the door open again honey. I thought we talked about that.” I said as I stepping further inside and found a repair man tiding his tools on the floor. “Oh hello, have you seen Dexter?”
“No, manager let me in. Someone reported a leak.” He said not even bothering to look up at me.
“Oh yeah, I told him to get things checked out I’m glad he followed through. Was everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s in order. You can rest assured there’s no leaks in your boyfriend’s apartment.” He finished packing and began to leave.
“That’s great to hear, you have a wonderful day sir.” He gave me an awkward smile and shook his head as he left.
I shit the door behind him and looked around, so this was Dexter’s apartment. I immediately put on gloves, after my research I realized he was In forensics so leaving behind my finger prints wasn’t ideal. I started by checking the books making sure there was nothing inside or under them, then I checked his desk. I rummaged through the drawers and found nothing but the usual clutter, I decided to check his computer since I was more likely to find something there. I debugged my way through the login screen and got into his computer, on the surface there was again nothing but I kept digging until found it. His search history which stupidly he never clears, I found that he had used a lot of police resources from the comfort of his home. Don’t you know that’s illegal Dexter? Thankfully some of the searches showed the names he looked up, I borrowed one of his pens and a sticky note then began writing down as many of the names I could and the days he searched them. If my theory was right these were likely murderers as well who will all turn up missing shortly after dexter searched them. Once I was done there I ventured into the rest of the house and found it all to be normal, minus the obnoxious chest in his closet which I thought was odd but I didn’t have my lock pick to get into it. There wasn’t much left for me to do so I figured I should probably leave incase Dexter also decides to visit home on his lunch break.
★ ✮ ★
Dexter had been on edge all morning, looking over his shoulder just waiting for the coworkers to swoop in and arrest him. As illogical as the thought was, there was no evidence for whoever saw him to back up their claims. Even if they searched his apartment they would find nothing, but an accusation like that doesn’t go away even if it’s proven false. People would still be suspicious and Dexter certainly didn’t need any more prying eyes when he already had Doakes tailing him everywhere he went. He barely managed to get him off his back last night by popping one of his tires, though hope Doakes truly bought his ‘addiction’ and would leave him alone thinking he was in recovery. Still even though no one came knocking at his door during the night to arrest him, which truthfully only made him more anxious but he tried to rationalize it and soothe his anxiety. Maybe they didn’t see his face, they definitely didn’t know his name, maybe they hadn’t seen much of anything, maybe this maybe that. Nothing was certain and Dexter did not like that, he had been careful to live by Harry’s code and the number one rule was to not get caught yet here he was. With a heavy heart Dexter stepped into his tiny slice of the homicide department and was greeted by Masuka.
“Oh hey Dex, there’s something on your desk waiting for you. It looks like someone has a secret admirer.” He said with his signature laugh.
Dexter quirked a brow and saw it, a brightly colored cupcake with a pin stuck in it that said ‘eat me’. He furrowed his brows and ripped the cupcake in half with his thumbs and found a note inside, ‘Roger was a scumbag, wasn’t he? Your secret admirer’. Dexter felt his blood run cold as he fell back into his seat, whoever it was that saw him knew it was him. He didn’t like this not one bit, he needed to find out who sent this.
“Hey Masuka, any idea who sent me this?”
“I can’t tell you that, the point of a secret admirer is that its a secret.” Dexter frowned but didn’t push it, there were other ways to find out.
Dexter was wrong, terribly wrong, whoever this ‘secret admirer’ was had connections with people all throughout the building. He had been asking all around the station all day but everyone he asked was adamant on not exposing their identity, it was like some sick game and he was losing it. His nerves were eased because at least it seems like they aren’t going to expose him for his dark secret for now, but Dexter didn’t like the uncertainty of not knowing if they ever would. This isn’t what he should be worried about right now, he needed to get ahead of this bay harbor butcher thing before they tied it back to him. It was only a matter of time until Lundy would catch on, but he also needed to work things out with Rita and convince her he was committed to his ‘recovery’. There was a lot more on his plate than he was comfortable with, Dexter felt as if he was starting to drown, if things continued the way they were he was certain he would go insane.
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
#minawritesfanfic#reader insert#x reader#my writing#fanfiction#fluff#dexter morgan#dexter moser#dexter morgan x reader#dexter
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summary: in which jungkook misses you before he even leaves.
idol!jungkook x reader / angst, fluff / word count: 3.7k
content/warnings: they both cry, they’re so in love and anxious of being apart 🥲 pls somebody give my babies a box of tissue damn it!!! / making out :") might be one of my favs i’ve written heh cherry koo ily
> in which masterlist!
note: hi hiii this serves as a prologue kinda to the giving up drabbles <3 and as to not confuse the timeline, this one takes place in sept 2018 and the first giving up drabble june 2019 ^^ hehe reblogs/feedback are appreciated + as always i’d love to chat abt ur thoughts 🥺
—
“i’ll call you when i arrive at the dorm, baby. let’s pack the rest of my things together, hmm?”
you hum softly in agreement, hiding your face on jungkook’s chest so he won’t see you yawn.
you’re so adorable, he thinks to himself with a grin.
matching his outfits with you in preparation for his travels has always been one of the little ways you spend quality time together. yes, you will be physically apart for most of this year and the next… but if he just pushes that fact in the back of his mind for an hour or two so he can make you laugh with his purposely horrendous choices, he thinks he may be able to leave with a lighter heart.
one last kiss is granted to your forehead, and you nuzzle your cheeks against his warm hands to cherish every ounce of his touch you can manage to steal.
you peek from the small space of the door to smile at your lover, which he then returns rife with fondness. you wave and bid your silly bye bye’s to each other, and it’s you who ultimately closes the door despite the voice in your head bewailing its protests.
it creates a clicking sound as you push it all the way, and after that, the defeaning silence fills your apartment like a toxic gas that makes it impossible to breathe. with no other soul left to witness it, your walls involuntarily come crumbling down. your eyes become blurry with unshed tears, and they fall one by one, some getting caught by your eyelashes. they hang heavy until they inevitably roll down your cheeks, as if they’re desperate not to crash and break, as if they’re horrified of their fate towards doom… much like you are.
recognizing the sensation of your weak knees threatening to give way, you lean your forehead on the hardwood to relieve some of the weight burdening your shoulders.
your chores have piled up while you were recklessly spending every second you had left with your boyfriend. you have better things to do than to cry. however, you can’t control your face that contorts to express the pain of having your heart mercilessly squeezed in your chest, tighter and tighter as the distance between you and jungkook grows, and it will only continue to do so.
you wind up as a heap on the floor, an intricate collection of love yet to be given and shards of memories calamitous and beautiful, knees hugged to your chest as you weep.
you swore you wouldn’t do this. you fucking swore you wouldn’t do this to yourself.
since losing your family, you’ve been alone, trying to survive in this world like a leaf in the eye of a storm, carried by a raging river that travels to an unknown sea. you then promised that no matter how much you affection you’ve grown to have for someone, if there comes a time that they make you feel lonely (skin-on-skin or heart-to-heart), you will be the one to walk away first. even if it hurts, even if it leaves you empty inside. for one, you’ve never liked wasting your time. you know what you want and what you need— someone who will stay within reach. your day-to-day life is far too draining for you to find the energy to beg for love and attention… and for the love of god, there’s already too many people you wish were still by your side.
your friends have witnessed you annihilate hearts and egos, leaving behind a string of jaded lovers.
but jungkook, with his bunny-like smile and endless gestures of kindness… has somehow slithered his way into a space in your heart where no one has ever been.
the apartment feels too empty with him not around. he’s not knocking rhythmically at your door from the inside to announce his arrival. he’s not in the kitchen humming songs while chopping vegetables. he’s not in the shower yelling at you because you forgot that turning on the sink makes his water cold. he’s not in the living room watching a movie on your laptop. he’s not snuggled closely with you and snoring execessively by your ear.
it’s going to be like this for a while. it’s always going to be like this, you realize.
you’re so fucking lonely.
you’ve only gotten used to him being here, and now you need to re-learn what it’s like to be without him.
you’re forced to gasp for air as you sob uncontrollably, interrupted by occasional hiccups that make your body jolt. you taste the salt in your tears as they seep into the crevice between your lips, can feel them beginning to poison your skin.
you let jungkook come too close. he slept on your bed and he learned that you’re always cold. he enveloped you in the safety of his warm embrace and you couldn’t will yourself to leave after the first time. you’ve surrendered to him the control over your body, and also your heart, which you may be breaking alongside your rule but… walking away would mean forsaking yourself.
for the first time, you are crying not because of the absence of love, but the abundance of it. humans are essentially a collection of dead stars that are brought back to life when they are consumed by the electric ache of love and yearning. you are addicted to the antidote that is the touch of another body that burns the same.
you’re free falling.
if you were to choose the cause of your madness, you would choose this.
because for the first time, you are not cursing a name, but the universe and its twisted ways. in your one-bedroom apartment, you don’t feel small; your arrogance is as big as the sun that threatens to swallow the earth whole. the empty space on your bed is now in the shape of the man who loves you.
the back of your head hits the door, and you sigh at the new predicament that presents itself to you: the fluorescent lightbulb at your doorway is flickering as if to signal its impending death.
your bad vision begs you to look away.
it’s too high. it’s too high for you to reach. jungkook isn’t here anymore.
you bury your face in your hands, another wave of tears spilling over before you could get a hold of yourself. your cries are unapologetic; you sound like a little child who got their hair pulled at the playground.
you would much rather wait for him than find a solution. you want to bear the weight of him in every possible way there is. you want to have him in mind every time you flip the light switch, because you always seem to forget that it’s dying after a long day at school.
but for now, all you can do is sit on the floor and smell his perfume on your clothes as you wait for his call.
—
jungkook is still frozen on the driver’s seat, struck with a suspicion that he left something behind in your apartment, but he can’t figure out what else there is besides his heart in the palm of your hands.
he opens up every single compartment of his backpack, but he soon carelessly discards it at the backseat because he has no idea what it is he’s even looking for.
“what is it? what is it? what is it?” he mutters absentmindedly to himself, wide doe eyes still actively darting around the car as he mulls over what could possibly be missing. “am i an idiot? am i just making things up in my head?”
but he is leaving for tour after all, it would be a big headache if he forgets to bring something important.
something important such as…
proceeding with a final inspection, he starts patting around his body, from his chest down to the pockets of his sweatpants.
“ahhh-” he makes a noise of enlightenment when he discovers one of them to be completely empty.
it then becomes vivid in his mind— the memory of him lazily setting down his wallet on your study table before he crawled on your single-sized bed as if it’s his own.
“…shit. i need to go back.”
—
he has a smirk plastered on his face as he jogs his way up to your apartment floor. radiating with pure excitement unbeknownst to himself, he even begins to skip a step with every long stride he makes across the staircase.
thanks to his forgetfulness, he found an excuse to be with you for a few minutes more.
the fourth door straight ahead, he still remembers chanting in his head the first time he visited your building on his own.
he stands before it with the intention to surprise you, but ironically, he is the one who ends up freezing in place. your muffled sobs escape through the narrow cracks of the door, and his hand slowly slips away from the handle until it drops back to his side. his vision becomes unfocused, mind going blank, only registering the shortness of his breath and the powerful punch to his gut.
that sweet, heart-fluttering smile that comforted him must’ve killed you inside.
—
“i won’t forget to call after every show.”
“that does sound nice but…” you scrunch your nose cutely. “i won’t be upset, if that’s what you’re worried about. go straight to sleep when you’re exhausted. i know you won’t have much time to rest.”
“please! you can watch me sleep too.” he pouts. “you know i always make it work. while i eat, while i shower! that won’t change. i need to see you and gain strength… or else i seriously think i won’t survive this one.”
and jungkook hopes that he’s not too much of a burden for loving you.
although, you did tell him once in passing— that anyone can be passionate, but not everyone will bravely go on stage every night to showcase those passions, even if it means testing the very limits of the human body.
“i can’t allow that to happen, can i?” you click your tongue, copying the angry frown of your boyfriend, who you find so, so, so cool.
his features soften after you pinch his soft cheek.
“your hyungs might kill me if i make their little one mope around missing me too much.”
“w-what do you mean?” he becomes flushed with embarrassment. “what kind of things do they tell you?!”
“nothing much.” your eyes shine with a glint of faux innocence. “when we were trainees, jungkook did this… since meeting you, he’s gotten more stubborn… can you tell him to wake up earlier if he plans on showering for an hour? you know, just things like that.”
“aish! jimin-hyung!” he releases a deep sigh to express his exasperation, knitted forehead not doing much to diminish the roundness of his eyes. “i bet one of them is jimin-hyung! i’m right, aren’t i? you- you’re getting too close with him! i can’t allow this- really, i- ah! no! no!”
the burst of laughter that fills the room only confirms his suspicion. you roll over on the bed to cover your face, half of your body collapsing on top of his, and you clutch your aching belly when he begins to aggressively shake you in a joking manner.
“listen, you can’t become best friends! you hear me? don’t! my secrets… what’s going to happen to them? who else can i tell them to?!”
immediately recognizing his poor choice of words once they have left his mouth, jungkook purses his lips in regret, and it’s his turn to feel his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.
“oh, really?” you slowly sit up as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. “and what kind of secrets do you need to keep from me? huh?”
he doesn’t waste a second to reply, scrambling as to not leave any space for you to formulate more doubts in your head.
“nothing! nothing, baby!” he flashes a dreamy smile in return to your sharp glare. he gently cups the back of your head to pull you back closer, puckering his lips as he tries to meet you halfway. “come here- give me a kiss.”
you ignore his advances, moving away from him with a scoff you don’t even bother to hide. the annoyance bubbling up inside of you feels irrational, and yet you can’t stop it from controlling your body language.
his jaw slacks in disappointment. he despises being denied affection, more importantly, a kiss meant to be shared with you.
“are you mad?”
you turn your back against him, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, but jungkook doesn’t waste time in chasing after you.
“baby!” he whines, seizing your arm and tightly embracing you from the side before you can escape. “i was just joking- i promise- i swear. you’re even the first person i share my secrets with nowadays!”
you sigh in defeat, eyes fluttering shut as you allow him to caress your face and pepper your cheek with loving kisses. loud, and slightly wet, which you used to not be fond of when it came to the lovers you had before, but as for jungkook and his dewy lips, you weirdly don’t seem to mind.
“please don’t be mad.” he coos lightheartedly before ducking his head to press his lips against yours. “i don’t want us to fight before i go.”
“i’m not mad.” your reply is quiet, and it drips with hesitance. “i just don’t want to think about you having secrets while you’re away.”
you turn to communicate directly with his eyes. if you feel sick to your stomach imagining him as a person you’d never have the grace to forgive, you don’t show it.
“you understand where i’m coming from, right?”
he meekly nods.
this is another reason why he is eager to spend all his free time with you, albeit through a screen smaller than the palm of his hand, and perhaps buy you trinkets from every city that welcomes him because everything reminds him of you. he wants to give you the reassurance that he doesn’t have any plans on doing something that may hurt you. this will be excruciating, he knows, but it is also a chance to prove himself as a boyfriend worthy of your tears and sacrifices. this can’t end before it begins. he doesn’t think he’d be able to bear that. he just celebrated his first birthday with you. it hasn’t been long since you uttered the three words he’s been anxiously waiting to hear.
“i love you. please give me your trust for now… i won’t waste it. you’ll see, at the end of this, we’ll be stronger. i promise i won’t forget my responsibilities as your partner even if we’re physically apart.”
he tenderly strokes your hair, eyes filled with galaxies memorizing every inch of your face. he’s scared, too. he’s scared that he’s overestimating himself. too ambitious, too greedy for wanting both the world and the most beautiful person he has ever seen in it to love him. he’s scared of getting too exhausted. he’s scared that you won’t be there anymore when he opens his eyes.
“i will probably mope around, though, missing you too much…” he pauses, then he makes up his mind.
him getting more stubborn since he met you— it might just have some truth to it that he’s too sheepish to say out loud, especially if his members were around to hear it.
“yes, i will seriously be a handful.” he nods to himself. “so i’m already apologizing early.”
“what are those responsibilities exactly?”
“to show you that i love you!” he exclaims in a tone that screams obviously. “to make you happy, to keep you safe… to stay committed to you- yah, you already know these things!”
but still, it’s nice to hear him say it. this bed of roses is a bed of thorns; he has chosen to sleep on it with you.
you giggle heartily at the sight of his face getting flushed. “you’ve been doing a great job then, baby.”
the praise causes his doe eyes to sparkle with glee. “really?”
“really!” his heart skips a beat when you softly cup his face in your hands, wearing that kind smile he can’t help but fall in love with over and over again. “don’t worry, i won’t let you miss me too much. i have my share of the responsibilities too.”
—
he swallows the lump in his throat, shakily sitting on the floor with his back against the door. he doesn’t know how long he stays there. he only knows that it’s near sunrise because the lights across the hallways have gone out one by one.
with an elbow resting on top of his knee, he fiddles with the laces of his shoe with no rhythm or rhyme— silently crying with you, clueless as to what he should do. he didn’t learn about this in school, nor during dance practices. no one teaches you what to do when you hurt a person you love but there’s no fault to fix and apologize for.
every now and then, a tenant passes by, and he is overwhelmed with the urge to scream at them to fuck off and mind their own business.
adding to his frustration is his phone, which has been vibrating with calls and text messages. he only spares them a dismissive glance before clicking the off button. yes, he fucking knows it’s already 5am. yes, he’s still with his baby. however, he is forced to send a reply to his manager when asked if they could finish packing his luggages for him to save time. no. no, no, no.
on the other side of the door, the pitter-patter of mechanical rain tickles your ears. your nimble fingers doesn’t cease on tapping on the keyboard even as your eyes stray to the contact name above the conversation, just to make sure that it’s your boyfriend you’re texting.
to: my jungkook
babyyy the sun is about to rise
so i’m not sleepy anymore :(
you're not home yet?
wait. if you're still driving just reply later
be a good driver before a good bf for now ☺️
ohoh i don’t mind if you don't have time to call anymore. just text me rq before you take off pleaseee so i know you're safe and sound
and after the flight ofc!! 😭
i love you! ❤️
seconds later, a pounding at the door makes your body jolt in shock. you carelessly rush to stand up, the safety measure of looking through the peephole not even crossing your mind before you swing it open.
jungkook stuns you with his presence, chest heaving with every breath as he studies you in a fog of haze. your messy hair perfectly frames your pretty face. your parted lips are raw from the crime of your sharp teeth forcibly putting an end to your crying. your eyes are still damp with tears, and they shine every time the warm light hanging above your head flickers.
if you could only read his mind, you won’t have to worry about him wanting anybody else.
once again, he finds himself helplessly infatuated. why do you have to look utterly bewitching even when you cry? fuck, and your texts… how did he get so lucky? you fuel something carnal inside of him that he has difficulty putting into words.
and so, he allows his actions to speak for himself.
“jungk-” his name is interrupted with a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. your trembling hands desperately grasp the sides of his hoodie as you stumble backwards, struggling to recriprocate the unrestrained fervour of his kisses.
he’s out of control. he has never kissed you like this before. you don’t know if he doesn’t feel your weak fists punching his chest or he just doesn’t care. you feel dizzy… dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.
you’re confused why he’s still standing at your doorway. you’re terrified of losing your balance. you’re crushing a pair of sneakers underneath the soles of your feet and it hurts. but his fingers are tightly tangled with your hair, the others playing a saccharine hymn along the keys of your spine, and for the pleasure he gives, you can endure to live with the pain.
the familiar taste of mint on his tongue is far too addictive for you not to indulge. you can’t stop craving for more of it, more of him, and you let your lungs burn.
but soon it mixes with the salt in his tears as his emotions crash on the shore like a tsunami. the seal of your lips is broken by a quiet sob, and in shame, he ends the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.
“____, what do i do? i don’t want to leave.”
your heart shatters into pieces as he sniffles, voice cracking as he musters up the courage to confess to you in between.
“jungkook…”
the words of sincerity feel heavy on his tongue. he’s never been good at this; always relied on his ability to feel. in spite of that, he wants to bare all of himself to you, and he prays that you believe him when he says- “i can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”
“so don’t. you don’t have to think about things like that.” you sigh as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, subtly swaying your bodies to soothe him. “come on, love. why are you crying…? you know where to find me, don’t you?”
you feel him nod before he mumbles pensively. “here… or school, or the restobar.”
“that’s right.” you chuckle. “just don’t lose your key. i’m not going anywhere.”
but he fears it’s his goddamn mind he might just lose. he squeezes his eyes shut, embracing you tighter as he counts the seconds in his head. he will let go after thirty, then perhaps he will stay for another ten.
in another lifetime, jungkook wishes that he could tell you the same.
—
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#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook one shot#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts reaction#jungkook smut
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𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
!!! this fic contains spoilers for RHRN, do not read on if you wish to remain spoiler-free!!!
It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Or: Copia is taking up his new position. It’s not an easy feat.
content: 1.8k words, gn!reader, angst, grief, hurt/comfort, some fluff and kisses, post!rhrn so spoilers, established relationship
Masterlist – Ao3 link
1 – White dust sheets cover the furniture like ghosts of a life left behind. The path forward is hidden underneath layers of insecurity and grief but as he packs up years of work in pre-used cardboard boxes it almost feels as though he cannot see the path at all.
His new office is just down the hall. It is a fast job. Two trips and his desk has become another ghost. One more trip and he has emptied out all personal belongings from the dusty shelves. The rest stays, not useful to him anymore in his new function.
It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Unlike his brothers he had no way to prepare who follows his footsteps and perhaps that is where the ache in his belly comes from – the uncertainty.
He cannot quite bring himself to unpack the boxes in his new office yet. But it is not his office anyway, Copia thinks. No, it is his mother’s office and he feels like an intruder placing his things on her desk. Her smell clings to the old fabrics, clings to him, a strong perfume that Copia has not been able to get out of his nose ever since he covered her body with yet another white sheet.
Yet another ghost.
It has not been long, he tells himself, a weak comfort. As he stands here with an old card she wrote him – Welcome Home, C! – he can hear the clicking of his mother’s shoes on the tiled floors like a faint echo that haunts the hallways of the Ministry. Everyone is busy preparing for this transitional period, mourning their Mother Superior, but now it is Copia who has to guide them, navigate them through this darkness.
He realises that he himself has footsteps to follow and that he is just as unprepared. A new era, for all of them.
“Love?”
He turns and his world lights up for a brief moment. You occupy the doorframe in a black mourning habit, the one all Siblings chose to wear in honour of his mother. Of course he finds that it suits you better than anyone else. But perhaps that is because he has felt the sturdy fabric against his wet cheeks so many times now that it means comfort, home.
“Do you still need help with the boxes?” you ask.
All he can do is shake his head. You approach and he wants to close the card, hide it away, not even sure why. You have seen the fallout, you have held him through the worst of it. Perhaps he is ashamed, in a way, that he cannot move on as fast as his new role demands of him.
“Was this from her?” you ask, nestling up to his side.
“Mhm.”
His hand is trembling lightly as you lay yours to rest on top of his. The swipe of your thumb against his bare wrist sends goosebumps down his spine and when you wrap the other arm around his waist his eyes are watering.
“Perhaps you can frame it, together with some photos,” you suggest.
He nods, leaning into your embrace as a solid rock forms in his throat. You hold him and he lets the silent tears run down his cheeks, gathering at the dip of his chin. Your thumb continues to draw slow crescents over his pulse. He can’t speak. He does not have to.
✦ ✧ ✦
2 – He is glued to the mirror.
You try not to fuss, he is nervous as is. It is first official day, after all.
“I didn’t know you had a new uniform,” you say with a lint roller in hand, joining him in the bedroom. The jacket is brand new, all black but unusual in its ornamentation, satin lapels that run from his neck towards his armpits. A clerical collar underneath sparkles against his Adam’s apple.
“I eh… splurged,” he says, cheeks dusted a bashful red.
He says it like he is wasteful, does it whenever he treats himself to something, but you also know he is wearing the same black winklepickers he wore as a Cardinal ten years ago, never replaces any pieces of clothing until he finds holes in the fabric, that he only bought new jackets when he could use them on stage to look his best for the audience. The suit is no different, it is as much a boost to his confidence as it is a display of his new status. A performance.
“It is a rather nice suit,” you note, running the lint roller down his back.
“Mhm.” He pauses, looks down at himself and tugs at the sleeves. “It is… unfamiliar.”
“You wear it well, Copia.”
He smiles and his confidence resurfaces. You find that he looks handsome in a completely new way. You have seen so many facets of him that you can tell he is beginning to mold himself into this role, even if he might not see it himself yet. In the mirror, a stranger is looking back at him through black-rimmed eyes but in time he will see himself again, a grown version.
“It is not all,” he says. “I… found something. In the desk drawer.”
He points to a velvety black box on the dresser. Inside, you find a beautiful ornament, two ruby brooches holding a bejewelled black grucifix, another ruby at the bottom. It is one of the most beautiful, elaborate pieces you have ever seen.
“A gift, I think.”
He looks uncertain when you glance up. But you have no doubt that it was meant for him, meant for today. You carefully take it out of the box, delicate as it looks it feels sturdy and well-crafted. One brooch to each lapel and the grucifix dangles over his heart. Light from the window catches in the gemstones, a prism splitting the ray into sparkles that reflect in the mirror, a spectacle of multicoloured beams flickering across the walls.
Copia watches the dancing lights, mesmerised, until the sun hides behind a cloud and the room is gloomy yet again. When you focus back on him a tear pearls from his left eye, running down his cheek and leaving a black streak in its wake. The piece is more than jewels – it is a memory, a promise, a token of trust.
“It is beautiful,” you say. “As are you, Copia. So beautiful.”
His smile is tinged with sadness but there is hope, now, too. You smooth out his jacket, admiring him for a moment, unconcealed, and he must see it in your eyes because the smile shifts until one corner of his mouth pulls into a lighthearted smirk.
“Do I get a kiss?” he asks.
You grab the satin and pull him close. One day you are going to peel him out of this jacket and it won’t feel heavy anymore.
✦ ✧ ✦
3 – You gently wipe at his under-eye. The black smudge is persistent and you stop when the skin turns red. Copia’s eyes are closed even as he holds you. Wrapped around you he feels hot to the touch, almost feverish. He has gone non-verbal since he came home and you give him the space he needs, soft touches, rest and quiet.
The tension of the day still sits in his muscles, you can feel the knots when you run your hands over his back. The hot shower did not help, nor did the pasta he barely touched for dinner. He did well, everyone said this to you today. Whether he feels it you are not so certain.
You lean in and press a kiss to the round tip of his freckled nose. He blinks at you through tired, reddened eyes, lips curving into a lazy half-smile. His hand tightens at your waist, slides underneath your shirt to feel your skin. He’s your whole world molded into the shape of a man. Love, stored in the crinkles of his crow’s feet, every line on his face, in the brushstrokes of grey at his temples, an endless supply.
“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, trailing the curve of his spine.
His eyes open and you feel guilty for disrupting his peace. But then he pulls you ever closer, squishing, the softness of your bodies mingling with a comforting warmth.
“I don’t…” He stops, brows pulled together. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“I have no doubt that you can.” You study his features, move your hand to trace the lines of tension and smooth them out. He lets you, eyelids fluttering at the soft touch. “Every day from now on will be easier, Copia. My baby, I have such confidence in you. Unshakable.”
The words stir something in him. Some wetness gathers in his odd eyes but he blinks it away. You have to fight your own tears, good tears, for how far he has come. Then Copia nods, nods again but with more conviction. A deep exhale through his nose and he swallows the doubts away.
“You are right, always,” he says. “I was Papa Emeritus IV, eh? I did that.”
“You did.” A smile, proud and amused. “And now you are Frater Imperator.”
“Mhm, I am.”
“You are the head of this church, they are still your flock, adoring you, admiring you, trusting you. None of this has changed.” You cradle his face in both hands, a firm press of your thumbs to his cheekbones. “And you are still the man I love.”
“I am?”
“Forever.”
He closes the gap himself, a grateful kiss, seeking. You try to give him what he needs, firm and soft kisses, hands roaming, legs entangles. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, deeper still until all air escapes you and a dizzy fog fills your head. He is all you know, all you want for the rest of this life you live together.
The kisses slow down, not any less deep, and he cradles your head, keeping you pressed together. There is some need building, a languid wave that fades out in ripples. You feel him stir against your leg but he is not quite here with you, not entirely, and it subsides after a moment.
He breaks away with a heavy sigh, keeps his eyes closed.
“Perhaps not tonight,” you say, stroking his hair.
He nods and rests his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose, the embrace tighter than before. It feels easier now, somehow, and you can picture it so clearly. The future, him, and even in your head the world is quiet as you hold him close.
Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡
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Lucien in Feral Mate mode:
Lucien snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints.
Lucien was shaking his head, panting, and whirled to us. “Get her back,” he snarled at Tamlin over the ranting of the king. A mate—a mate already going wild to defend what was his.
Jurian stalked over to Lucien amid the rising squabble, laughing under his breath. “Do you know what Illyrian bastards do to pretty females? You won’t have a mate left—at least not one that’s useful to you in any way.” Lucien’s answering growl was nothing short of feral.
I was fairly certain that only centuries of training kept Lucien from leaping over the table to rip out Jurian’s throat.
Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.
But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.
He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart.
He paused right between them and said to me, to Nesta, “She needs fresh air.” “We’ll judge what she needs.” I could have sworn his ruby hair gleamed like molten metal as his temper rose. But it faded, his russet eye fixing on me. “Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two.”
But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—
The words were little more than a growl.
His russet eye flashed with simmering rage. An uncontrollable instinct—for a mate to eliminate any threat.
Lucien in Calculating Mate mode:
“Forever,” I parroted, glancing behind—to where Lucien stood in the gravel drive. His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he’d seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop—and he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mate—Elain—again.
Lucien breathed, “Where is he keeping her?” I knew who he meant. I shook my head. “I don’t know. Rhysand has a hundred places where they could be, but I doubt he’d use any of them to hide Elain, knowing that I’m aware of them.” “Tell me anyway. List all of them.” “You’ll die the moment you set foot in his territory.” “I survived well enough when I found you.” “You couldn’t see that he had me in thrall. You let him take me back.” Lie, lie, lie. But the hurt and guilt I expected weren’t there. Lucien slowly released his grip. “I need to find her.”
Lucien in Respectful Mate mode:
“Is … is there anything I can get for you?” I’d never heard my friend’s voice so soft. So tentative and concerned.
The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain’s hands.
Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain’s side.
“How is she?”
But is she still …” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Does she still mourn him?”
Lucien had encountered him, I realized. Somehow, in living with Jurian and Vassa at that manor, he’d run into Elain’s former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.
But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair.
The bigger box is for you. The smaller one is for her.” It took me a heartbeat to realize he meant the presents. I glanced over my shoulder to the careful silver wrapping, the blue bows atop both boxes.
Lucien in Sad Mate mode:
Lucien leaned his head back against the rock wall behind us. “And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”
But Lucien was standing in the doorway. And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.
She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride.
Only concern for her. And … sorrow. Longing.
He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …” He offered me a grim smile. “I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I’m willing to bet I’m no longer welcome at h—the Spring Court.” Home, he had almost said.
Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.
“She wants nothing to do with me.”
Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.
Lucien in Perfect Mate mode:
Water poured forth, Lucien hoisting Elain in his arms and out of the way.
he’d been more than happy to do so, given that his own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.
“I’m a mated male now.”
But Lucien gripped my arm, halting me. “I’m going with you,” he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. “I’m getting my mate back.”
“Tell me about her—about Elain,” Lucien said quietly. As if the death that squatted in the dark beside us had drawn his thoughts to his own mate as well.
But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.
“Let me do something. About Elain.
“Please tell me,” Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer. “What the healer says. And if—if you need me for anything.”
“Did you sense anything?” “No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek.
“I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke. We all looked at him. Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.”
Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he’d run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.
“I’m fine,” Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, “Are you—” ���Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.” A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips.
Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.
#elucien#pro elucien#elain archeron#lucien vanserra#pro lucien vanserra#lucien supremacy#Literally the best mate in the series#Best mate ever actually
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Loving your toxic Slytherin boys series, I was wondering if you could do their reaction to the reader leaving them for someone else and how they would attempt to get the reader back. (Btw your talent is unmatched, I could never<3)
Slytherin Boys – What would they do to get you back if you left them for someone else
A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words – they are greatly appreciated! ❤️ Hope you'll enjoy what I've come up with! 🫶🏻
Warning: Toxic boys alert 🚨
Mattheo …
… would be shocked because how dare you leave him? The initial shock would very quickly turn into anger, his thoughts clouded by dark thoughts as he went into denial. He had rolled his eyes when you told him you were breaking up with him because of someone else. Who could you possibly be in love with if not with him? The smug grin never left his face when you stormed out of his room, thinking you’d be back in his arms by tomorrow. You weren’t, though. His eyes darkened as he spotted you giggling with none other than Fred Weasley.
All hell broke loose in Mattheo’s head – you had truly left him. His fingers twitched to reach for his wand. Everything in him screamed for him to hex the Weasley right in front of everyone but he knew that would ruin his chances with you. He would have to be more … discreet about getting rid of the Gryffindor male – but he would get rid of him. If he can’t have you, no one can.
Theodore …
… instead of attacking your boyfriend he would try to win you back – he knew you still had a soft spot for him. He’ll text you occasionally and sneak in love-notes into the box with your stuff before giving it to you. He’d even spray his cologne on everything and hide a few of your favorite pictures of you together with memories and dates written on the back of said pictures. The day you come to pick up the box, his fingers will linger on yours as he passes you your things with a sad smile on his face. He knew the effect that smile had on you.
Slowly he’ll creep back into your life, planting his seed in your head until you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
On what-would-have-been-your-anniversary, he sent you your favorite love song with a short ‘happy anniversary’ attached to it. He was lying on his bed when you came barging into his room after five minutes with teary eyes, wearing the hoodie he had sprayed his cologne on. You fell right into his arms, clinging onto his sweatshirt as you sobbed into his neck. Theodore quickly wrapped his arms around you, one of his hands stroking your back soothingly. “I missed you too, bella.” He muttered, cupping your cheek with his right hand as you lifted your head to look at him. He took note of the way your eyes lingered on his lips, waiting in anticipation as you drew closer. Finally – finally – you gave into your urges and pressed your trembling lips on his.
Too bad your boyfriend walked into his room with the potions notes that he had borrowed from Theodore the day before.
Lorenzo …
… will send your new boyfriend anonymous letters and notes with threats to his life. If those don’t work, he will be more aggressive: he’d boycott your dates, sneaking laxatives into your boyfriend’s drink or fumbling with his broom before quidditch practice to ensure he’d fall and break something. And if that still doesn’t work – because you somehow grow even closer after all the unfortunate accidents your boyfriend has – he’ll drag him to a secluded hallway and push him against the wall with his hands gripping onto his shoulders. Lorenzo threatens him and tells him to break it off with you before kneeing him in his stomach several times, drawing pained groans from your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend as he falls to the ground. Before he leaves, he will step on your boyfriend’s head with his hands in his pocket.
“I assume you got the message and I really hope we won’t have to talk again, because I assure you – you won’t be liking it at all.” He snickered as he pushed himself away from the whimpering heap on the floor.
He was Bellatrix’ son after all.
Draco …
… would straight out have your new boyfriend expelled from Hogwarts – but he had to be smart about it. He knew he couldn’t just go to Dumbledore and expect him to expel your new boyfriend without a good reason – not that Dumbledore would be easy to deceive.
But he’d make sure to sneak into the restricted section of the library and steal a few scripts to hide them in your boyfriend’s bag.
The next day very rare ingredients disappeared from Snape’s collection – ingredients that were needed to brew a very dangerous potion. When the Professors found the missing scripts and ingredients in your boyfriend’s room, they grew suspicious of him.
And if that wasn’t enough your boyfriend’s father was sent to Azkaban, accused of being closely connected to Voldemort – which was the last straw for Dumbledore as the professors finally agreed to expel him from Hogwarts.
Now, the only thing Draco had to do was sit back and console you while you cried – shocked by the truth as regret settled deep within you. How could you have ruined what you had with Draco for someone like him?
Blaise …
… would pay one of the girls to seduce your boyfriend at a party in the Slytherin common room.
He watched, with a drink in his hand, as your boyfriend disappeared in the bathroom with the girl he had bribed, just a few minutes after you had walked in.
He tapped his foot nervously as he waited for everything to unfold: After another two minutes the room to the bathroom was thrown open and you came rushing out with your hand over your mouth as tears ran down your cheeks – leaving black traces of mascara in their wake.
Standing up from the loveseat, Blaise put his glass on one of the tables before he walked after you.
It was his time to shine now.
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