#and that’s not saying that trying is easy. it isn’t. hell it took a long time for us to get even here

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

alternate ford: why are you even trying?! there’s nothing for you to gain! you’ll be in agony for the rest of your life! you will NEVER be rid of the stain he left in your psyche!

canon ford, already pulling up his sleeves: holy moses that’s not the point now get over here so i can kick your ass you’re scaring my niblings

[dxxdhood]

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship

wc: 3.3k

a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.

No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse. 

Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.

He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.

But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.

That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.

But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?

And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.

So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.

…

“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”

“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”

“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”

It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”

You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”

And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”

The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?

Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.

You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.

Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”

He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.

He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.

But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth. 

What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.

Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.

Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.

Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.

“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”

His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.

“Hang-out.”

Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.

“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.

He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.

Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.

“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.

“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”

“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.

Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element. 

“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”

And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.

His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible. 

It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.

“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”

“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

“And why’s that?”

Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”

“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”

“You say that, but…”

“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”

Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”

“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”

No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”

Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”

And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.

…

It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible–  a big ask.

“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”

“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”

“When I get to feel.”

Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”

“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”

You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”

“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”

He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”

Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat. 

Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.

You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.

You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.

“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.

He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.

While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.

Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”

Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.

“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.

You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.

He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.

“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s  powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.

“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs. 

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.

From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.

“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.

As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.

“Thank–”

You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up. 

[itneverendshere]

Hii i love the bitchy!pogue!reader series and i would love to know how they first hooked up again, like what led them to keep going after their first night together. That's all, thx in a advance if you do it, i love your writing

the way i ran to write this lmao, thank you for the request ❤️ let's just say it wasn't planned at alll....it was fate👀

in spite of myself - drabble

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you swore the first time was the last.

you were simply… curious. you wanted to figure out just how far you could push his buttons without him taking it out on you.

you got your answer. you went to that party with the sole intent of pissing him off, but you hadn’t planned on ending up in his bed—not that you’d ever complain. but that was it.

you’d gotten your taste, of course you weren't expecting to run into him so...soon.

you’d learned to play along for these little trips into kookland. your cheap dress, bought solely to get you through the gates, hugged you a little too close—but that was the point, wasn’t it? you made a show of adjusting the neckline, scanning the room with that perfected boredom.

the moment you spotted him across the room, you nearly snorted, because of course he was here.

rafe, in all his buttoned-up glory. hair slicked back like he’d asked his barber for the "douchebag deluxe," wearing a shirt that probably cost as much as your entire car. he looked so at ease among his kind, you wanted to pat him on the head and give him a treat.

bingo.

he was pretending not to see you, standing there with some stuffy old kook in khakis so aggressively white they probably had a staff meeting dedicated to their upkeep.

but you could spot it: the clench in his jaw, his fingers twitching around his glass.

honestly, it was too easy. you’d barely taken a few steps in his direction, and his grip tightened like he was trying not to crush the glass just at the sight of you.

aww. you hadn’t come here for him, but the opportunity was irresistible, how could you say no to that face?

you took your time, internally giddy at how his stiff he looked the closer you got. you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh as you finally slid up next to him at the bar, taking your time, letting your eyes glide over his shoulders and back down to those broad, broad arms.

god, look at those arms, you thought.

this idiot must curl yachts for fun. absolutely absurd.

his gaze snapped to you, “what the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

poor thing, always so snappy.

you brought a hand to your chest, going for maximum innocence.

“who, me?” you blinked, leaning in with a soft, honey-dripping sigh. “just networking with the local elite. isn’t that what i’m supposed to do if i want to ‘rise above my station’?” you savored the horror flashing across his face.

rafe looked personally offended, like you’d just announced you were taking up golf, while you let your eyes drop to the line of his shoulders, lingering just a little too long on his chest before dropping.

slowly, slowly.

his face twisted like he was in pain, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself from the way you were very clearly undressing him with your eyes.

“cut that shit out,” he ground out, “i know what you’re doing.”

you raised an eyebrow, “doing what?” you shot him a wide-eyed, who, me? look, letting your gaze dip again. “i’m not doing anything.”

his face flushed as he hissed, “you’re doing it right now! act normal for once.”

he pulled away from you as if your pogue germs might rub off on him, but you’d seen that look on his face before.

“honestly, if you didn’t want attention cameron, maybe don’t wear that. kind of a slutty choice, don’t you think?”

his neck flushed deep red as he scowled. “excuse me?”

you shrugged, “just saying. last time, you had a lot to say about my outfit, didn’t you?”

“you’re fucking insane. leave me alone.”

you smirked, leaning closer, “oh, baby, i’ve already got what i wanted from you,” you purred. “unless, of course, you’re offering again?”

his jaw tensed, and he looked away as if even looking at you would ruin his day. but he was still here, wasn’t he?

“don’t flatter yourself. i’m done with you,” he muttered.

you shot him a wicked grin, “flatter myself?” you let out an exaggerated laugh, turning heads nearby. “i’m here on a date.”

rafe’s smirk dropped, and he cast a quick, possessive look around the room before moving his attention back to you.

“a date?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

you nodded as you pointed toward the back, where your “date”—some poor kook with a summer tan and daddy’s credit card—stood waiting near the hors d’oeuvres table, oblivious.

“did you think i came here just for you?” you tilted your head, letting the words sting. “i don’t do repeats, country club. got what i wanted, remember?”

he looked like he was about to set the place on fire, blue eyes narrowing as he glared at your so-called date. you could sense the gears turning in his head. god, this was just too easy.

“maybe you should run along, hmm?” you said, your voice light and mocking. “can’t imagine what your country club buddies would think, seeing you all worked up over a pogue.” you flashed him a dazzling smile before tossing a wink, then spun on your heel, leaving him there seething.

you could feel his stare burning into your back as you sashayed over to your “date.” this was way too fun.

lunch was mind-numbing, but free, so you were perfectly okay tolerating the “date”—or, as you preferred to call it, the idiot with a wallet—while he droned on about his family’s fleet of yachts or some bullshit about generational wealth. you nodded along, not listening as he bragged. as if you even gave a fuck.

when he finally paused to shove more overpriced pasta into his mouth, you decided you needed a break from the snooze-fest.

“excuse me, i’ll just pop to the ladies’ room,” you murmured, batting your lashes like the good, sweet little pogue he thought he’d bagged for the afternoon. as soon as you were clear of him, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

the second you got into the quiet of the bathroom, you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking your head.

what a fucking bore.

you’d honestly rather be anywhere else—well, except maybe with rafe, since he’d probably drag you back to the ninth circle of pogue-hating hell.

as you were checking your lipstick in the mirror, the door swung open, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“um, excuse you?” you snapped, eyebrows shooting up. “i know you have a thing for following me around, but the ladies’ room? have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

rafe didn’t answer.

he stalked forward, looking pissed as he backed you up against the sink, boxing you in without so much as a second thought. there was something about the way his forearms flexed when he did that.

ridiculous, he most likely got pumped up just pouring a glass of water.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. oh my god.

you clamped a hand over your mouth, but the sound came anyway, echoing off the fancy-ass tiles. “oh my god, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

he leaned in even closer. “you think this is funny?”

“funny?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “it’s hilarious. i’m here for lunch. you know, food? the stuff people eat? he offered, and i like free shit. it’s that simple.”

“you’re doing this just to piss me off,” he accused.

“oh, get over yourself,” you scoffed. “you think i’m obsessed with you or something? i wasn’t even thinking about you until you came barging in here like a lunatic.” you leaned back, giving him a brazen, challenging look. “can you move, by the way? i was enjoying the break.”

his nostrils flared, but you didn’t even care. if he wanted to lose his shit, fine—he was the one who walked in here. you stared him down, totally unfazed, holding his gaze until he broke it.

“careful,” you added, your voice mocking and low. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous. because, i gotta be honest, you look like you’re about two seconds away from—”

“shut up,” he growled, his face inches from yours, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “you show up here, flaunting yourself like you don’t remember exactly how last week ended, like you weren’t begging me to—”

“oh please,” you interrupted, ignoring the pleasure that traveled up your spine. “let’s not rewrite history.”

his hand gripped your cheeks, blunt nails pressing in from either side as he pulled you close, capturing your jaw to hold you still. the pressure of the squeeze pulled your pouty lips together, forcing you to look up with wide eyes.

“stop talking."

you tried to smirk around his grip, feeling the bite of his fingers, but your words came out muffled.

“what’s wrong, country club? can’t handle a little conversation?”

“just can’t help yourself, can you?”

you could hardly nod, your eyes gleaming with defiance as you let out a small, mocking hum of agreement.

his hands slid down from your cheeks to cradle your jaw, fingers firm as his mouth pushed against yours. you giggled into the kiss, entirely too pleased with yourself as you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling until he groaned.

“this is the last time,” his voice was ragged against your lips, but the words sounded half-hearted, he was trying to convince himself.

you smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, tilting your head to test him, see if he’d let you go. instead, his hand was already sliding up your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your lips, holding you right there.

“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “think you can just look at me like that, say whatever you want…”

“who says i can’t?” you purred, lips brushing against his as you taunted, “if you don't want this, maybe you should go.”

his grip tightened, a curse slipping past his pretty lips, streaked with the deep red of your lipstick, glossy with both your spit.

and fuck, did he look good like that—disheveled, unguarded, his face painted with your lipstick like a silent confession of just how far he’d let himself go with you despite his fucked morals.

rafe let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered, “last time, swear to god.”

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons - Part 10

WC: 817, Masterpost

Jason sighed as the tablet in his hands flashed with alerts. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“How did the meeting with Black Bat go?” Bruce asked instead of responding, because of course he did.

“You know it went fine,” Jason said, trying not to snap. “Besides, everyone likes her, there was a good chance it was always going to go fine.”

“We both know trauma isn’t always that easy,” Bruce said, his tone carefully modulated to be gentle. It rankled Jason, like it always did.

Jason took a breath and let his chin drop to his chest for a moment. Bruce didn’t mean it like that. He knew that now. This was Bruce trying as best as he was able— it wasn’t just another mask. Bruce just had to put effort into emotions that made it seem forced. Jason pushed away his flair of temper; it was harder to do than he’d like after too much worry and too little sleep.

“Ja—”

“I’m fine. It’s just like you said, trauma isn’t always that easy. I’m fine,” Jason said as he waved the concern away. “And names. You know we’re sticking to code names still.”

Bruce tilted his head, observing Jason through the white lenses. (That used to rankle too.)

“You thinking there’s a chance he’ll run.”

Jason sighed. He gave an exaggerated shrug to cover the worry that ran through him at the question. “Not run, exactly. I think he doesn’t believe that he can stay— that it’s even on the table. I think that we’re his last hope and he doesn’t believe in hope anymore.”

Bruce didn’t move. Jason gave him time to think that over.

“That’s why he doesn’t want to see… Wayne,” Bruce said, slowly, like he was feeling the idea out. “He doesn’t expect to get anything from him so it’s better to be healed up first.”

Jason shrugged again.

“Figure so. But also once that meeting happens, whatever happens, then all of this,” Jason motioned to the safe house, “is over as far as he knows. If he puts off the meeting, he puts off the risk of losing the first safety that I think he’s hand in a long, long time.”

Bruce’s shoulders hunched and he almost blended back into the shadows by the window. “If he’s already posed for it to go badly…”

“B, that’s not your fault,” Jason said— had to say. “The kid’s been through hell, maybe by his own family, of course he’s going to expect the worst.”

It was a long moment and then Bruce nodded, just once. “What’s the plan?”

If Jason really had his way, the plan would be to deal with all these ill feelings, but that’s not what anyone in the family was good at, him included. It would be what it would be.

“We’ll have BB over again for a meal tomorrow. I’m sure it will keep going well and she can help be on watch that night. We think it’s best to give that a few days before we introduce O or anyone else new, so you have to keep the rest of the horde reigned in,” Jason said pointedly. Then a though occurred to him. “Where is the little spawn anyways?”

“He’s on the roof across the block.”

“Yeah, is he? Because that was a lot of alerts—”

“Hood!”

Jason didn’t think before he was striding across the room towards Danny’s room. The kid was standing in the door. White hair stark in the low light. Green eyes bright.

Glowing.

Wide with fear.

“Danny?”

“Someone else is here,” Danny said. His voice was almost too quiet to hear, but Jason could half swear he felt it in his very bones. Danny reached out and clung onto the sleeve of Jason’s hoodie. A cold settled into Jason’s bones along with the vibration of the soft words. “Someone touched by death. Can you feel them too? They’re not not like us. They haven’t died. They haven’t died, but they reek of death. Hood, what are they?”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here, remember?” Jason assured Danny automatically. The words rolled out of his mouth without Jason having to even think about them, which was good, because Jason’s mind was still caught on Danny’s words: They’re not like us. They haven’t died. “Some Bats just stopped by to check on us.”

Was it Bruce? Did all of Gotham’s death cling to his shoulders like his cape?

Was it Damian? Was it the stench of the Pits?

Or did Jason miss something else slipping in with all of the other alarms.

“We’ll go check on Nightwing together, alright? I bet he has a little red and black guest who slipped in,” Jason said. He twisted his hand to hold Danny’s. The cold bit at his skin. He didn’t let go.

He hoped he was right.

He had a hard time believing in hope too.

---

AN: A myyyyyyyystery *wiggly fingers*. Gods I'm so tired.

I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead!

[mcumorningstar]

begging for more riff x reader smut 🫣 I’d love if they were in a heated argument over riff buying a gun and riff says something disrespectful to reader making her slap him and then they just immediately go at it from the heat of the moment

Bang Bang

pairing: riff (wss) x reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni, kinda toxic but kinda cute, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), riff’s got a gun, (I think that’s everything)

a/n: sorry this took so long I was on vacation. I’ve never done a request before!! Thanks for submitting :) This was more like I don’t wanna lose you sex than heat of the moment but hopefully this is okay!!

Sinking into Riff’s lap was the perfect remedy to a bad day. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, your pelvis pressed to his.

Usually you would be reduced to a puddle of contentment but the hard press and sharp sting of metal pushed against your lower stomach.

Pulling back, you scrutinise Riff for a moment before tugging up his shirt. A small revolver was nestled in the waistband of his jeans.

“Like Billy the Kid, don’t ya think?” Riff smirked up at you, pretending to shoot bullets from his fingers.

God, it was easy to forget, because of his troubles, but Riff was so young.

“Get rid of it,” You stared at the weapon with wide eyes, “I’m not playing around, Riff. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Born to die young, baby-o,” A wide grin plastered across Riff’s cheeks, smug and teasing. He squeezed your hips but you weren’t impressed.

“You gonna be laughing when you’re on a slab in the morgue?” You tried to stand, wanting some distance between.

“Don’t think like that,” He attempted to calm your nerves and refused to let you move away, pulling you closer.

A manicured nail jabbed into his chest, “Because I sure as hell won’t. I don’t wanna be a widow before I’m a wife.”

Riff sighed, his thumb rubbing against the empty space on your ring finger. An empty space waiting for a promised ring.

“They always bring heat. We gotta be ready,” He reasoned with you but your blood boiled as he removed the gun and examined it.

You scoffed, “This shit is so stupid, Riff!” You shoved his chest and rose from his lap, storming into the bedroom.

Riff followed you with a heavy sigh and heavy footsteps. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“You expect me to go in there with nothing but the clothes on my back?”

“What I expect you to do is use your brain! Your daddy was in the exact same position as these Puerto Ricans you’re going to war with!”

“He was nothing like them.”

“Why? ‘Cause he speaks the language?”

It was a low blow but you wanted him to know how it looked.

“Don’t turn this into something it isn’t! This is a turf war,” Riff tried to level his steadily raising voice.

“Turf war? That slang for prejudice little boys with no jobs and nothing to do but terrorise foreigners?”

“Prej-? You know goddamn well that I’m not like that!Like you know what you’re talking about anyway! I’m not taking life advice from a hairdresser!” Riff snapped and, before he could have the nerve to feel bad, your open palm collided with his cheek.

You stood in silence for a moment as a red mark bloomed against his alabaster skin. It was not the ‘be the better person’ you were trying to drill into him, you knew that, but he pissed you off and it was almost involuntary.

“Shit” Riff jostled his jaw in all directions and rubbed a finger against his reddened ear, “You smack like my ma.”

Your hands cupped your slack jaw, “Baby I’m so sorry.”

Riff spared a glance in your direction as you stepped closer to him.

“Less of the smacking, yeah? I need my good looks or you got nothing to stick around for,” He smiled warily, “I ain’t no murderer, am I?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hide your thrill at his decision, and smiled softly. Tentatively, you reached up and brushed your fingers against his red cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby. Never meant to damage your pretty face.”

Riff almost melted, his eyes softening, “You think I’m pretty?”

“A real diamond in the rough,” You brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead and cupped his jaw, “I couldn’t bear it if I lost you. Not for something this stupid.”

Riff pulled you closer and pressed his forehead to yours, “Never gonna happen. You’re stuck with me.”

A smile twitched at your lips. Despite the Jets, being stuck with Riff sounded heavenly. He dipped his head to kiss you softly.

“Never,” He whispered, pulling back an inch, his hot breath fanned across your lips.

“Good, because underneath it all, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known. I don’t wanna lose you.”

Riff pulled you back for another kiss. A clash of tongue and teeth as the kiss grew heated. You needed him to know how true it was, needed him to know how much you needed him.

“I love you,” He panted between the hot collision of lips. A soft moan rose from your throat. Riff dropped his hands to your hips, pulling your body flush to his.

Your nails clawed at his neck, fingers getting lost in his hair.

Clothes were shed, lying in piles on the bedroom floor. Riff hovered over you as you lay back on the mattress, pressing himself between your legs.

Clinging to his bare flesh, Riff trailed open-mouthed kisses along your neck and pulled your leg higher on his hip.

His hard cock pressed against you through his boxers, as his hips began to grind against yours.

A breath moan escaped your lips, “Riff… please.”

Usually he would tease you. ‘Please what, baby?’ he would say, but not this time.

Riff nodded over and over again as he pushed down his boxers and pulled your panties down your legs. The full weight of him rested against your bare skin as your lips met again.

With tender hands holding you close, Riff pressed into you. It was slow and sweat beaded on your skin when a low groan from the man above you vibrated against your neck.

“Ugh god,” He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face further against your clavicle, littering messy kisses there.

“Move baby please,” You panted out, rubbing his back with firm fingers.

Riff pulled his hips back a few inches before rocking into you again. He pulled his head out of the shelter of your neck, connecting his eyes to yours.

His hips moved languidly, skin slapping with every collision of his pelvis to yours and pushing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Riff panted, pressing his forehead to yours, “For- for what I- I said. I love you and- and that’s never gonna change. Not for turf, not for nothing.”

The rhythmic strokes of his hips rendered you non-verbal, only capable of moaning and nodding. Your eyes fluttered closed at a particularly hard thrust.

“Look at me, baby,” Riff wrapped an arm underneath your head, the crease of his elbow and the muscle of his bicep your new pillow.

Forcing your eyes open, you met his eyes - a gorgeous swirl of blue and brown in the left.

He’s beautiful.

“Never want to be without you. What was I thinking? Taking a gun? You’re right to call it stupid, baby. So stupid” Riff rambled on. You could tell he was getting close by his loose lips.

Riff mumbled between moans, sloppy kisses and panting breaths against your skin until your chest was soaked in his spit.

It was euphoric. His hand snaked between your sweat slicked bodies, pressed so tightly against one another, to rub circles against your clit.

A loud moan ripped from you and your fingers gripped the back of his head, holding his face so close to yours that you breathed each other’s oxygen. All while staring into the starry night abyss of his eyes.

As the band inside you grew tighter and tighter, you gripped onto Riff tighter. Your legs wrapped around his waist as if he were going to be ripped from you entirely and red crescent moon imprints of your fingernails bloomed against his skin.

“I’m gonna cum. Can’t- can’t hold on,” Riff groaned, doubling down on his efforts between your legs. His thrusts were losing rhythm but he was hitting spots deep inside you and working you with his fingers.

White spots clouded your vision as the band inside you snapped, gushing onto his fingers and cock. The feeling of your orgasm pushed Riff over the edge, whimpering ‘I love you’s’ as he finished inside you.

Warmth bloomed inside you at the feeling and, as you came down from your high, a giddy grin crept onto your lips.

With heaving chests, Riff gazed down at you and a grin equal in size and feeling graced his lips.

“You were right, doll. Nothing is worth sacrificing you for.”

“Oh I’m gonna need that in writing,” You teased, stroking your fingers through his hair.

Riff laughed and playfully bit your jaw until you pushed him off, rolling around the bed with blissful laughter.

He stayed in that night. The gun was gone by the following morning and in its place sat a vase of red roses.

[luvzshy]

Hey love, Could you do Billie x reader

Billie and the reader get into a huge fight because Billie is never home always to the studio or something leaving the reader at home to raise their kid by herself. Billie comes home one day and is upset because the house is a mess and dinner isn’t made and gets mad at the reader claiming that the reader never does anything. The fight gets so bad that the reader says that she should just take their kid and move back to her home country

Almost enough

Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: Intense arguments, high emotional tension, mentions of parenthood struggles, implied separation.

Y/N shifted their child’s weight on her hip, bouncing gently as she tried to calm them down. The living room was a mess—blocks scattered across the floor, a forgotten bottle rolling under the coffee table, and her own half-eaten lunch sitting cold on the counter. Exhaustion blurred the edges of her vision, the kind that had built up after months of sleepless nights and Billie’s constant absence.

The front door creaked open, and Billie stepped inside, her shoulders slumped from another long day. Y/N could tell the instant she glanced around the room that she wasn’t happy. Billie’s mouth pulled into a frown as she dropped her bag on the floor.

“What the hell, Y/N? The place is a wreck.” Her tone was sharp, tired, but it cut right through Y/N. “And there’s nothing for dinner? I’ve been at the studio all day, and I come back to… this?”

Y/N’s chest tightened, but she swallowed down her initial response, not wanting to wake their child who had just started to settle. “Billie, I didn’t have time to clean up or cook. Our child was being fussy, and I’ve been running around trying to keep things under control.”

The sting of her words made Y/N’s hands tremble. She shifted their child into the crib nearby, gently placing them down before turning back to Billie, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think I’m just lounging around all day? That I’m doing nothing while you’re out there working? I’m raising our kid, Billie. Alone, most of the time. Do you even know how hard it is?”

Billie’s expression softened for a split second, but the tension in her shoulders returned just as quickly. “I know it’s tough, but I’m doing this for us. For you, for our future. You don’t have to worry about money because I’m busting my ass out there—”

Y/N’s voice rose, cutting through Billie’s words. “I don’t care about the money! I care that you’re never here. I care that I’m the one left to pick up the pieces every time you come home late, or miss another bedtime, or don’t show up for a doctor’s appointment because you’re stuck at the studio.” Her breath came in short, shaky bursts as the words poured out. “It’s like… it’s like you’re choosing the music over us, over me.”

Billie’s face hardened, and she took a step closer, her eyes flashing with anger. “That’s not fair, Y/N. You think this is easy for me? I’m working so our kid can have a good life, so we can have a future together. But it’s like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

Y/N’s vision blurred with tears she didn’t have the energy to wipe away. “No, Billie. It’s not about the future. It’s about right now. I’m drowning here, and you don’t even see it because you’re never home long enough to notice.”

Billie ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident in every movement. “What do you want me to do, then? Quit everything? Stay at home all day?”

Y/N shook her head, her voice cracking with exhaustion and hurt. “I want you to be here, to actually be present. Not just show up when it’s convenient. Our kid barely even knows you right now, Billie. And me? I feel like I’m fading into the background of your life.”

Silence fell between them, a tense, heavy quiet that seemed to fill every corner of the room. Billie’s jaw clenched as she struggled to find something to say, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Y/N could see the conflict in her eyes, the part of Billie that wanted to lash out and the part that knew Y/N wasn’t wrong.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Maybe… maybe I should just take our child and go. Go back to my family, back home. At least there, I wouldn’t have to do this alone.”

Billie froze, her eyes widening as if she had been slapped. For a moment, she looked like she didn’t believe what she had heard. “You can’t be serious. You’d really just leave? Take our kid and leave me behind?”

Y/N’s shoulders sagged, the weight of her own words settling over her. “I don’t know, Billie. I don’t want to, but I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep pretending that this is enough.”

Billie’s expression crumbled, her frustration giving way to a deep, gnawing fear. “Y/N, please. Don’t… don’t say that. I know I’ve been absent, I know I’ve messed up. But I’m doing my best, I swear. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose our family.”

Y/N felt a fresh wave of tears rise, but she blinked them back, shaking her head. “Your best isn’t enough if it means I’m here alone, Billie. I need more from you. We need more from you.”

Billie took a step closer, her voice desperate, breaking. “Then tell me how. Tell me what to do. I’ll make it right, Y/N, I promise. Just don’t leave. Don’t take our child away from me.”

Y/N closed her eyes, the exhaustion washing over her like a tide she couldn’t hold back. She didn’t know what the right answer was, didn’t know how to bridge the distance that had grown between them. But she could see the fear in Billie’s eyes, the pain that matched her own.

“I don’t have all the answers, Billie. But you have to show me that we’re worth fighting for. Because I can’t keep feeling like I’m in this by myself.”

Billie nodded slowly, tears pooling in her own eyes, her voice barely holding together. “Okay. I’ll try. I’ll be here, I promise. Just… please, don’t give up on us yet.”

Y/N looked at her for a long moment, then glanced down at their child, sleeping peacefully through the aftermath of their fight. “I won’t give up, Billie. But you have to fight for us too. You have to be here.”

The silence that followed was different this time—quieter, with an unspoken promise lingering between them. It wasn’t a resolution, not really, but it was a moment of understanding, a fragile thread that might still hold them together.

[reysdriver]

Exit Stage Right | R.L

You and your daughter miss Remus while he's performing for a stadium of fans, so much that you have to see him before the concert is over — dad!rockstar!remus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a little angsty if you squint rlly hard, but nothing else

words: 2.4k

a/n: I promised rockstar!remus a while ago, but I've been to 2 concerts in the last 2 weeks, which just so happens to be finals season, so I've been simultaneously busy as hell and itching to write this. I hope you like how it turned out!

Your daughter Olive was no stranger to loud noises. 

Remus had a room to practise drumming in your house, it’s normal to encounter a chaotic mess of fans and paparazzi when you left the house as a family, and she just about had the loudest uncles in the world. Though you tried to limit the amount of noise she took in, Olive’s little ears had definitely adapted to her hectic little life. 

But all that noise in her daily life was no match for a rock concert in a sold-out stadium. Those decibel levels would for sure be far too high for her little ears to handle.

It wasn’t as easy of a decision on what you should do with her tonight, though. You were getting cabin fever with all the identical hotel rooms you’ve been living in while The Marauders were on their tour, and you suspected Olive was in the same boat. 

So, you decided to go back to the old days when the band first started going on long tours, when you would stay in the dressing room for the length of the performance. You and Remus figured it would be soundproof enough backstage, but you still insisted on pulling out the baby headphones you had bought just in case before she was even born. You were only planning on using them if it got especially loud backstage, yet you tried them on anyway. 

They were massive on her, but they kept her safe and happy. Plus, she was pretty damn adorable with them on—not that she wasn’t all the time, but definitely cuter than normal with those giant headphones. 

Waiting for the show to start, Remus bounced Olive on his lap while you watched the rest of the guys run through their current individual pre-show rituals. 

It had been quite a while since you’ve been backstage with the band right before a show, and you honestly forgot how entertaining it was. 

James was trying to solve the same Rubik’s cube he’s been working on for years to warm up his fingers, Peter was doing the daily crossword in the local newspaper, and Sirius was trying to multitask by doing his vocal warmups and his makeup at the same time. 

It was really a terrible combination of tasks, as Sirius kept on messing up his eyeliner and then trying to suppress his favourite swear words for your daughter’s sake. 

You wanted to tell him off, but it was really too fun to watch for you to intervene.

A minute or so after Sirius finally finished his look, the boys’ manager knocked on the dressing room door and reminded them that they have to go on stage soon. 

Remus thanked him, and the guys all started getting ready to go. He kept Olive in his arms for as long as he could, until it was just the three of you in the room after everyone was already headed to the stage. 

When he finally had to let her go, Remus made sure he gave you both a proper goodbye. 

“I’ll be back soon. Just over 2 hours, then we can all go home.” He kissed you softly, but deeply. He always does this as a way of saying goodbye, kissing you like he might never do it again, but he doesn’t want you to think about it. 

When his lips left yours and he slouched down to blow a raspberry on Olive’s tummy, you sighed quietly. “A hotel, not home.” 

He looked at you sympathetically as he collected his drumsticks from the table beside you and stored them in his back pocket for the time being. 

“Isn’t home anywhere where we’re all together?” He said, trying to lift your spirits. “But we’ll be home home soon enough. And I won’t be on tour again for a while, and we can be all together as much as we want.”

That did make you feel better. Even though you loved that Remus was living his dream with his best friends and giving you and Olive a great life, it did get stressful from time to time. 

Privacy violations by paparazzi and media outlets, insecurity that sometimes got the best of you on both sides of the relationship, and of course, The Marauders going on world tours that were fun, but still somewhat torture. They made it so you had to choose between leaving home for months, or being away from Remus—not that there was any difference between those two. 

You didn’t want to get emotional right when Remus had to go perform, so you smiled and reminded him that it was time for you to part ways for the evening. 

“They’re waiting for you out there.” 

A grin graced your husband’s face. “They can wait a little longer.” 

“They paid to see you.” You reminded him. 

“And I'll personally refund all of them if I don't go out.” 

“Then we'll be out of money, and we'll both have to get new jobs and we'll never have any time with just the three of us.”

Remus pretended to think over your point for a second. “You’re right. I guess I have to go out and perform, then.”

“Put on a good show, honey. We'll see you soon.” 

While saying goodbye to him, you raised Olive’s arm so you could wave at Remus for her as he walked out of the dressing room. Her face was already forming a pout when she watched her dad leave to go do his job, but you wouldn’t let that morph into anything more. 

You turned her around so you could both look at each other, then you pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.

“None of that, sweetheart. We’ll see him again in no time.” 

Laying her down beside you on the couch, you reach down into the baby bag you never go anywhere without and pick out some of her favourite toys from their specific pocket; hopefully those will keep her distracted and happy. 

◆◇◆◇◆

The toys didn’t work as well as you thought they would. They kept Olive busy for about an hour, but she seemed to snap out of her happy baby daze out of nowhere. 

She started crying and nothing was working to calm her down. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and nothing you had brought for this very reason was working. 

You knew the only thing that could quell her upset was outside and on the stage, playing drums for a stadium of fans. But even though she and Remus both wished they could spend all hours of the day together, you just didn’t know how that could work.  

And then you remembered the headphones. 

The sound backstage hadn’t been that loud at all while The Marauders were playing, so you honestly hadn’t thought about them since you and Remus packed them before you left the hotel. 

But this could work. You could use them to help both you and Olive right now. So that’s what you did.

You dug through your bag and pulled the noise-cancelling headphones from the bottom of the bag, where they had sat untouched for the longest time. After picking them up with a tiny ‘aha’, you smiled at your daughter and told her that she would soon be seeing her dad. 

She had calmed down somewhat due to the mere mention of Remus, but she was still wailing in your arms. You bounced her lightly while you walked down the halls of the stadium. 

“It’s okay, honey.” You cooed at Olive, despite the fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. “You’re gonna tire yourself out and fall asleep before you even get to see Daddy. We don’t want that, do we?”

Although, maybe her crying herself to sleep wouldn’t be so bad. 

It still wasn’t an option in your mind. Your daughter wanted to see her dad, so over to Remus you’ll go. 

Once you got to the stage door, a burly security guard gave you a questioning look. You supposed he wasn’t used to a woman and a baby wanting to go into the wings during a rock concert. But he was just there to do his job, not judge, so he let you through when you showed him your ID. 

You kept checking Olive’s face to see her expressions and gauge if everything was too loud for her. Her look didn’t deviate from the bothered expression her face took on when you started walking with her, so you assumed the headphones were cancelling out the noise, just as they were made for. 

Nobody who was working backstage seemed to mind you being there, so you found an extra stool in a dark corner and pulled it so you could sit and watch the band. 

Based just on how Olive was moving in your arms, you knew she had spotted her dad behind the cymbals he was smashing across the stage. Pointing towards Remus, you whispered to her again even though she couldn’t hear you. “Look! Who’s that? Who’s over there?”

She seemed to be cheered up enough just from seeing Remus, so your hypothesis was proven correct. Things were shaping up to be a good night. 

You swayed and headbanged—as lightly as possible—since just because Olive couldn’t enjoy the loud music doesn’t mean you had to ignore it too. 

The current song ended, and James was talking to the crowd while Sirius drank some much-needed water after all that singing. While taking a swig, the two familiar faces in the wings of the stage caught his eye, and he just had to share what he was seeing with the drummer. 

He practically skipped over to Remus, who was also catching his breath from performing and pointed you out. Your husband’s eyes scanned the area until he found you, and his face immediately broke out into a smile—and so did your daughter’s. 

Back in the dressing room, you were hesitant if you should leave at all or if you should just wait out Olive’s tantrum, but the matching looks on your husband and daughter’s faces right now was proof that you made the right decision. 

Olive made grabby hands towards her dad across the stage, and Remus waved right back and blew a kiss in your direction. You weren’t quite sure if it was aimed at you or your little girl, but it made you blush either way. 

He pointed to the setlist taped to the ground beside him and hid his hand behind his bass drum so the audience wouldn’t see his gesture; he held up three fingers to let you know there would be three more songs until he could get up and give you two his full attention. You knew they would most definitely be doing an encore after they finished, but at least they could all have a small break after the main show.  

You nodded to show him you understood, but his attention was already grabbed back by James giving him the sign that it was time to get back into the music. Not even taking more than a second to prepare, Remus was back in the groove and started playing the next song on the list, effortlessly and perfectly. 

The last few songs of the main set were some of your favourites from the band’s discography, but you had to admit that you couldn’t enjoy them as much as you usually would. 

It was mainly because you were somewhat scared of an impending mood swing out of your daughter now that her father’s attention had left her, but also because these three songs were standing in between you and your husband like a brick wall right now. You just had to remind yourself that once they hit that last note and said their goodbyes to the crowd, that wall would be temporarily smashed once more. 

But now, they were at the end of the concert. The crowd was cheering like they just had the best night of their lives—you don’t doubt that they did—and Remus was throwing his sticks into the sea of hands desperate for a morsel of The Marauders. 

His rockstar persona was dropped the second those drumsticks left his hands, and he was rushing to the wings to be with you and Olive, a wide smile strung across his cheeks.

 He pulled you two out into the hall so the crowd’s noise could be in the background. He knew they would be cheering for an encore in a minute; as much as he loved that sound, he would rather hear you. 

“She was getting pretty fussy and I knew you were the only thing that would calm her down.” You explained to Remus before he could even ask. 

You were afraid he would be upset with you bringing her outside of the dressing room, but he didn’t seem fazed at all. He gently took Olive from your arms and cooed over her. 

“You missed me so much you dragged your mum out here so you could see me, huh?” Remus asked her. “You know I missed you too, princess. Both of you.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should get the guys to shorten the setlist so you aren’t away from us for too long, then.”

He didn’t respond, but you know that he had brought up the idea of shorter tours to the others now that he and James were both fathers. 

You watched lovingly as Remus kept moving Olive’s hand away from the glitter on his face that she was so desirous to touch. You wished you all could stay in this moment forever, but the audience’s chants for an encore were getting louder and louder and you knew the scene in front of you couldn’t last much longer. 

Right on schedule, James strutted up and tapped Remus on the shoulder with a brand new pair of drumsticks. 

“We’ve gotta go back out there, mate. Time to part ways with your girls once again.”

Remus wouldn’t put up a fight. He handed Olive back to you and blew one more kiss at you two as a goodbye.

The doors opened and a cacophony of fan cheers hit your ears. It was a lot, but it just reminded you that all those people were waiting for your husband, so you could wait a few more minutes. 

Just two final songs, then you could all go home.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Realistic

George Weasley x Reader

You broke up with your ex, but said ex refuses to believe you moved on. That you found better than him. So, you figured you had to prove you did. Time to call a favor

Warnings: 18+, topics of abusive ex, satisfying revenge, ablism, oral sex (male receiving) public, choking (very light) fake dating, voyeurism, peeping Tom, Very Soft George, cuckholding? Sorta? Not really? But like maybe on a technical level?

Writing Comission’s Open

“George, pretend to be my boyfriend.” You asked, quickly. Hardly gave him a chance to even look over his shoulder, when he saw a man storming into his shop. Looking utterly pissed, and you anxious. He’s got a little sister, and plenty of brothers. As if he needed to put two and two together. His arm was quickly around your side, and he leaned into you. As if it was all natural.

“Was wondering when you would get here, Jellybean!” He announced, making your ex quickly look over to you two. His stare hardened, and George stared right back. Snearing. Keeping up a smug complexion through it all. You quickly stuffed yourself into his arm. As if trying to hide, as your ex came over. Nearly stomping in the process.

“The hell you doing with em-?Your ex demanded. “Uh…..Snuggling? Kissing? Whatever we want in MY shop-?” George would puzzle, as he was wondering where the such nerve came from. George would make sure to keep you close, with a hand on your hip, as he protected you. You would rest your head on his shoulder, and took in the comforting scent of fireworks and sugar. Helped you get grounded, as your ex was looking ready to fight.

“That’s what Im suppose to do, you fucking cripple-“ The man snapped, making you gasp. You were about to say something, but George was quick to slap a hand on your mouth. Knowing damn well what you would say next might get you slapped. As if he wanted that.

“Really? That’s your first course of action? Get creative buddy. Could have said something impressive. Like One Eared Arrogant Bastard. Like that’s creative. Just dropping heavy words like that doesn’t make you smart. Even Malfoy got creative.” George mocked, making you giggle. That was something you admired about him. His ability to go with the flow. Able to fight with words so easy.

“I-“ He tried to say something else, but George cut right in. “Do you sound smart to make up for the fact you don’t have a personality? Even Percy had more of one than you. What about that temper? Short temper isn’t the only thing short, is there?” George egged on and on. Wasn’t long before people were watching, and giggling. Leaving him red faced.

“How about-“ And the man was storming off. You couldn’t help your relief, as you relaxed into George. He seemed gone, but not entirely. You noticed he was still outside. Just far enough away from the shop to not be loitering. That made your stomach drop. Seemed you were dodging a bullet, and George was making sure there was plenty of cover.

“Guess he isn’t buying it…..Wanna help make sure he does?” He offered, as you rose a brow. At this point, you would do anything to get that bastard off your back. Was being a total creep now. Just waiting for you outside. With a nod, you gave your consent. George would soon whistle at someone, who would nod, as he was taking you towards the back.

“Let’s give him a show~” He offered, before you were pushed out of a side door. Your body hit against the neighboring building, as your lips met. You were wide eyed, until you noticed your ex peeking from around the alley way corner. Guess a show will be what it takes. Couldn’t imagine a better person to trust yourself with anyway.

You couldn’t help it either, as you melted into the kiss. Your hands fighting at his suit jacket, while he explored your mouth. Leaving your tongue to taste like sweet orange flavored candy. The scent of ash, the taste of sweet, and the feeling of heat. It was getting you more excited than you wanted to admit.

“Come on, love, on your knees.” He whispered, as he threw the jacket to the ground. Despite how rough he was acting, the fact he gave you his suit jacket for your knees spoke volumes. Even in the heat of the moment, he was trying to make sure you were given the best care. Made your heart sing, as you let your knees rest on the expensive fabric. Right all over the dirty alley way.

He was quick to take his belt off, and adjust his vest and dress shirt. Everything was moving so fast. There was such a thrill from it. A spur of the moment. Just no thoughts, only desire. Was so exciting. Gave you such a pleasure you didn’t know you could get. Weren’t even doing anything. Yet.

“Open that pretty little mouth-“ He asked, and you did. Just as he pulled his cock out from his pants, making your heart pound with excitement. You were really about to do this. You felt like you were in a wet dream. You always did find George so attractive. Never thought you would ever score a chance. Yet, it was this easy. Those Weasleys and their big hearts.

You let the tip pass your lips, and swallowed. His hand was gentle in your hair, as he let you go at your own pace. Not forcing it down your throat, and letting you take your time in adjusting. Letting you control your breathing, as your hands found his thighs. Just those deep breaths of fire works, and sugar. Was hypnotic.

Once you felt well adjusted, you forced your head further down. Your signal to let him keep going, and going he did. How he tangled his fingers in your hair, and forced you deeper down his cock. To the point your nose brushed against that ginger hair. Made you gag, by how much, but you quickly relaxed. Knowing you were in safe hands.

“Better be louder. I’m crippled, after all~” He teases, making you unable to stop the giggle around his cock. That earned you a moan from him, as the vibrations ran up through his body. God did his moans sound like sweet music to your ears. It gave you the motivation to try and take lead a little bit. Pulling yourself to the tip, and moaning around it.

He was soon leaning against the wall of his shop, as he was at your mercy now. His free hand busy with keeping his vest and shirt up. Exposing that slender stomach. Happy trail, freckles, and ink. Such a dashing man, with many scars. You were the lucky one to get to see it. See it all. Like how his face was flushing, and his kept hair ruffling. It was addictive.

Up and down you bobbed, as you kept your grip tight on his slender thighs. Not quite as meaty as his upper arms, given his beater history. Still was great to grab, as you milked him for more sounds. Such as the hisses, and whimpers when you ran your tongue over a vein just right. Oh you didn’t know who was in more heaven.

“Fuck, Im going to cum. Oh fuck-“ He gritted his teeth, and made an attempt to pull you off. How considerate. You figured that kind gesture deserved a reward. So, you fought against his hand. That surprised him, as you would force yourself deep down again. Moaning, as you returned to his base. Looking right up at him, and locking with those pretty doe eyes. That was the last straw.

He let his head roll back, as he came down your throat. You coughed, but you were handling it like a champ. Using those thighs for support, as you watched his stomach spasm from the pleasure you gave him. How those pretty cheeks were so flushed, and his ear so red. Oh what you would give to see more of that.

Once he was breathing steady, you finally pulled off. You panted, as he cupped your cheek. His thumb rubbing away at the spit that ran down your chin. You didn’t know if your ex was still there, and genuinely didn’t care anymore. The tender moment was to sweet to make you think about anything else.

“Say….Think maybe we can do this again some time? Gotta keep up appearances and all~” He winked, as it was your turn to be blushing. All flustered, as he would put himself away. Along with being a gentlemen, and helping you off the ground. With his jacket as well.

With a quick spell, the jacket was clean. Just some tidying up, as you were still a soft pink. Same for himself. A stupid grin on his face was keeping you flushed as well. Especially with the arm hooked around you, as you returned inside. Having to keep up appearances after all. Just for appearances.

“My lunch break should be soon, wouldn’t mind some drinks with you. Gotta wash that down after all.” He offered, making you elbow his delicate rib. He wheezed, but laughed. Yeah. Maybe this fake dating thing will really put your ex in his place. Severs him right for losing such a catch like you. Least George was the lucky one to nab you, wasn’t he?

@george-weasleys-girl

[sheloveshp]

A helping hand| James Potter x Reader

summary: you almost miss the hogwarts express but thankfully your “friend” james is always there when you need him

cute, fluff, being friends with the marauders, start of sixth year, legal characters, pining, obv in love, req.

Every damn year is the same. Every year you almost miss the damn train to Hogwarts but you were never this close to actually doing so.

Taking your luggage and your cat you run into the wall bracing for impact. You arrive at the plattfom and hear the man blowing into his whistle.

„Oh no…“

The man started to get onto the train and close the doors. The train started to move and so did you. There was no way you were going to run with your three suitcases and try throw them onto a moving magical train. Magical. Wait you’re a witch you thought.

Taking your wand you cast a spell and the suitcases are flying following your direction. Quick on your feet you start running towards the last waggon where your friends said they would be sitting. Lily and Sirius and Remus are sitting in the little cabin.

Being a sophomore at Hogwarts this year you are already a very skilled and talented senior witch but managing three suitcases and running at the same time to find an opening to jump on a moving train isn’t really an easy thing not even in this world.

You move closer and closer to the last door of the last wagon. Yes this is Plattform 9 3/4 but that doesn’t mean that the train station is also endless. This is not going to end well you think to yourself.

But, there was one man you could always trust. James Potter.

A dear friend of yours belonging to your little friend group you found in the first year of arriving at Hogwarts.

Knowing he probably stood at that door already you called out his name.

“James!!!” It took one scream of his name for him to notice you and look out the door.

“Y/n?! What the hell are you doing? Get on the train.” He yelled back looking confused.

James Potter really is one heck of a man. Hair slightly parted and looking clean. No Glasses on this year apparently but a fine robe already.

“James what the Hell do you think I am doing?”

He looked up and saw your Luggage floating above you. “Darling do you know how dangerous that is? I mean your Luggage on top of your h-“

“Help me get on the damn train Potter!” “Oh yes, thats right.”

The skilled sorcerer he was he took out his wand and manoeuvred the flying luggage onto the train along with your cat.

Since you got that off your shoulders now you pick up your pace. Now running directly next to the door as James holds out his hand to you

Obviously James could’ve just used a spell to get you on the train just as he did earlier with the luggage but…where’s the fun in that. James Potter would never miss out on an Opportunity to get a hold of your touch.

“Y/n take my hand.” You do as he says and he grabs you. Damn, he really is strong you think to yourself. This isn’t really the moment to think about how fine James Potter is.

Finally you jump onto the train and as strong as james was moving onto a moving express isn’t really the most steady situation.

With a loud squeak and luggage falling down you do aswell. On top of James. Onto his chest thats seems to have gotten much more muscular over the Summer. His Face and yours are also quite close to eachother and no one seemed to move.

“Hi.” He grins cutely looking at your face. Both of you are now 18 and it has been a long summer. Being busy with your pureblood family meetings or whatever it was they called it and him being on the other side of london, you didn’t have any time to meet up.

“Hi.” You grin back. He is studying your face, from your hair down to your eyes finishing at your lips. He missed seeing you every day in class and he is beaming with joy internally, knowing he is reunited with you again this year.

“I missed you, Love.” He is always saying stuff like this so easily but also so full of love that it’s very difficult to distinguish between James the friend talking or James the boy thats in love with you. Obviously you don’t know that he is in love with you…and he doesn’t know that you are. Since first year.

“Aww, Charming as always James.” You tried to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “I missed you aswell Darling but maybe we should stand up from the floor, yeah?”

Just now he realised that you guys were still laying on the floor with you on top of him.

“Oh, what a beautiful sight.” He thought to himself.

Under other Circumstances you wouldn’t be laying on the floor together but maybe on a bed. Not in a dirty way but rather in a sweet innocent way. light kisses being shared and sweet gazes under the morning sun.

He knew he had to be yours. There was no way he could live without being by your side after graduation. The Summer vacations every year are already like torture. Heck, the two weeks of winter break where your parents force you to come home every time while he is left at hogwarts feels like a part of his soul is missing.

How would he continue life after hogwarts without you.

Same as him these thoughts also often crossed your mind. As sixth year students, graduation is coming closer and closer so these thoughts are frequenting your mind even more.

He took your hand to get up and stands tall next to you, almost towering over you. The way he looks down at you made you go crazy. It is certain now. There was no way you’re going to leave school without trying to make a move on him.

“Shall we go meet the others then?” Still not letting go of his hand you ask him to lead you to your friends. You smile and keep a soft but also certain grip on his arm now, making sure he knows you’re comfortable with it.

“If we must, but I was quite enjoying having you all to myself.” As confident as you were, you are definitely burning up now.

“Charming as always, James? Let’s not be to greedy, yeah?” You laugh with him as he leads you down the train.

You reach the little cabin your friends were seated in and stop almost infront of it, out of their sight still.

He chuckles “How can one not be greedy when what he desires the most is standing right infront of him like this.”

“oh, James…” You say with a low whisper looking up at him through your lashes and he could swear he saw an angel.

As bold as you are you stand on your toes and give him a peck on his cheek.

James himself is quite cheeky but even he freezes for a moment before a soft smile spreads across his face. The smile you love so much and the one that seemed to be particularly reserved for you.

You step back, and your heart was racing. You turn away with a quiet laugh and enter the Cabin.

“Come on, James” you say pretending to be unaffected by your bold little statement.

The moment lingers in the air and so does his hand on the cheek you just kissed.

The rest of the time spent on the train there was this different and unspoken new feeling surrounding you and James. Something undeniably romantic that was bound to flourish into something beautiful

first marauders post <3 lmk what u think

[lilmoonbunny]

Co-Workers to Lovers; Albert Wesker

Warnings: Cheating boyfriend (reader's bf, not Wesker), alcohol consumption, implied nsfw.

Working alongside Albert Wesker was… interesting.

He was cold, rude, blunt, and so on with all his workers, except for you.

He wasn’t a lot nicer, but there wasn’t the same amount of judgement, hatred, and annoyance in his tone when he spoke to you.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he would kill them, your co-workers would joke that he has a sweet spot for you.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have one for him also. Most of your co-workers hated you for the special treatment you got from Wesker, so he was basically all you had at Umbrella.

Your boyfriend wasn’t fond of your work-relationship with Albert, something about how he “didn’t trust the creep” and how “he’s trying to steal you from me”.

You never believed any of that, but then again, you never believed that your boyfriend would cheat on you either.

Well, until the night you came home from work earlier than usual to the sound of moans from your bedroom.

At first, you thought maybe he was masturbating. After all, it had been a while since you two had last had sex. Work Albert had been keeping you busy.

The moment you heard the female moans, you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t stop yourself from entering the room.

“Really?” You asked him, watching his face morph from pleasure, to shock, to anger.

“You’re home early!”

“Clearly.”

Without another word, you left the room as your boyfriend of three years rushed to put his pants on and chase after you, but before he could reach you, you had already left, beginning to walk in the pouring rain.

You didn’t know what to do or where to go, so you ended up back at work. They had beds for those doing 24-hour shifts, so you could just take one of those.

“I thought you finished for today. Why are you here, and why are you wet? You’re dripping on the floor.” Whilst his words would seem annoyed, there was an underlying tone of concern in Albert’s tone.

“My boyfriend cheated on me; I walked here in the rain. Sorry, Sir.” You whispered, avoiding eye contact.

Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed the way his jaw clenched in anger, but all you heard was an annoyed sigh followed by you being told to follow him.

He took you to his office, bluntly telling you to sit before leaving the room.

You waited, eyes still staring at the floor rather than the room around you.

You were embarrassed more than anything. First your boyfriend cheats on you for God only knows how long, and now you’re crying to your boss.

“It’s not your fault.” Wesker’s deep voice sounds from behind you, the weight of a towel being placed on your shoulder pulls you from your self-deprecating thoughts.

You shrug and he sighs again, taking a seat in his chair.

“Look at me.” You do.

It isn’t easy for him, not at all, but he does do his best to put on a somewhat kinder face and try to comfort you.

“He’s a moron. Don’t worry about that idiot. You deserve better.” He says. “You deserve me” sounds his internal voice, but he ignores it.

With a quiet sigh, you nod and agree. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Albert is quite fine, Dear.” The name causes you to blush and you silently pray that he doesn’t notice or will just pass it off as you being cold, but he isn’t stupid.

“Thank you, Albert.”

Wesker can’t deny the way his body reacts when his name rolls from your tongue, but he can sure as hell ignore it. He doesn’t need feelings. He isn’t capable of them, he tells himself.

“You can stay in my office for the time being. I finish in an hour or two, I’ll drive you back to my place.” It wasn’t an invitation, it was a demand, but one that you didn’t want to turn down.

“Thank you.” You repeat, and he simply nods, passing you some dry clothes, and leaving to return to work.

Once he finished work, Albert gathered his things and lead you to his car.

Being the gentleman he is, although it was only for you, he held the door open for you, enjoying the way you blushed and muttered a thank you.

The drive was quiet. It was late, dark, and you were both deep in your thoughts.

He was wondering if he had made a mistake inviting you to stay at his home until you were back on your feet. He didn’t know how long he could go without kissing or touching you, but it also didn’t sit right with him making you stay at Umbrella offices where it wasn’t safe, or with your cheating boyfriend.

However, all you could think about was how good he looked driving, his hands tightened around the wheel and the gearstick. There was something oddly attractive about it.

Despite him being deep in his own thoughts, he didn’t fail to notice and couldn’t help the smirk on his lips which made you blush once again.

“We’re here,” he said, quickly moving to open your door for you and lead you into his mansion house, enjoying the shock on your face.

“Thank you, Albert,” you smiled at him as soon as you two were sat with drinks in your hands. “It means a lot to me. More than you can imagine.”

“It’s no problem, Dear.”

Over the weeks that you had stayed at his place, it was safe to say that you and Albert had grown closer, the same as your feelings had grown more for one another.

Albert was working more to keep himself busy, as were you, but the drives home were becoming more and more painful each time.

It was obvious to him that you had feelings for him, but he was him. Albert Wesker isn’t exactly the king of relationships, or even friendships; he had betrayed everyone in his life, after all.

He couldn’t resist, however, placing his large hand on your thigh as he drove, enjoying the way you tensed up beneath his touch and a blush ran to your cheeks, but you remained silent.

Having enjoyed your reaction, this was something he began doing every journey. He loved seeing you flustered, even more so when you stuttered when he spoke to you during the drive.

“No need to stutter, Dear. It’s only us.” He would say with a smirk.

You didn’t know how much longer you could last without touching him either, but you were afraid of rejection. Sure, he touched you, but what if he didn’t want you to touch him.

He could sense your hesitation and didn’t expect you to ever do anything, at least, until you laid your hand on top of his that rested on your thigh, your head lying on the glass of the window. It was clear you were tired, and perhaps that was why you were doing it.

You fell asleep that drive, the sound of rain and feeling of Albert’s hand touching your own lulling you into a deep sleep, one that he didn’t want to wake you from., so he didn’t. Instead, he carefully lifted you and carried you to the room you had been staying in. Your room.

Your relationship grew closer from there. You trusted him and, scarily enough for him, he trusted you also.

You went out one night with your friends, Wesker telling you to call him when you were ready to come home, and he would pick you up; he didn’t trust anyone but himself to get you home safely.

You had talked about him all night, leaving your friends wondering what was happening between you both. That was when you finally admitted it to yourself: you loved him.

Whilst the thought had always been there, completely admitting it to yourself was terrifying, but it had to be done.

However, the only way you felt you could properly think on this was by drinking more.

When it reached 3am, you texted him telling him you’ll get a cab since he was likely asleep.

Don’t be stupid, I’ll come get you. I can’t sleep. Where are you? Came his immediate reply. He would never admit it, but he stayed up worrying about you.

He was there moments later, helping you into the car so you didn’t fall with a sigh.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked upon realising that he wasn’t touching you for the first time in weeks.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then why aren’t you touching me?”

“You’re drunk. I’m not touching you whilst you’re drunk, Y/N.”

A blush ran up your cheeks at the realisation and your drunk self couldn’t stop the words leaving your lips.

“But what if I want you to? What if I want you to do more than hold my thigh?” You’d regret that in the morning, but you were too drunk to care.

Albert’s hand tightened on the wheel at your words, doing his best to calm his breathing before responding.

“You’re still drunk. I’m not taking advantage of you whilst you’re under the influence. If you still want it tomorrow, then I will.” Were the final words for the night before you fell asleep and he, yet again, carried you inside, the smallest smile on his lips.

The following morning you were terrified of facing him, remembering what you had said, so you stayed inside your room until noon when a knock came on your door.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N. We need to talk.” Came his stern voice that had both your heart and thoughts racing, assuming the worst.

“Okay.” Came your meek response as you opened the door, allowing him into the room.

It was silent for a few moments, before you offered him a seat beside you.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” He asked, staring at you. “Be honest, I won’t be offended if you say no.”

His words confused you, but as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his pupils dilated whilst he stared back, lips slightly parted. You weren’t dumb, you knew what that meant. He wanted you the same way you wanted him.

Rather than responding, you closed the gap between both of you, his hands instantly moving to push the straps of your dress that you had failed to change out of down your shoulders.

Once you pulled away, breathless and half undressed, he chuckled quietly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He teased, but you ignored it and pressed your lips to his again in desperation.

Maybe it had always been him since you met him. Maybe your cheating ex-boyfriend was just what made you realise that.

One-shot (Cheating Heart) coming soon!

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 2 - CHANGBIN

Title: These hands were made for you

PAIRING: Changbin x reader

SUMMARY: Changbin agrees for you to give him a massage to relieve some of his back pain, but isn’t prepared for the physical reaction he has to your touch. For context, the reader is part of the management team!

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever. 

TAGS: hands-free orgasm, massages, swearing, hint of body worshipping if you squint.

KINK: erotic massage

KINKTOBER - MASTERLIST

Thinking Changbin was awake happened to be a mistaken thought, especially after you had been standing at the door of his hotel room for the past few minutes, knocking at it. Even calling and texting him didn’t help. In saying that, it was late and you had to give him the benefit of the doubt; he had played a show not too long ago, had been complaining of muscle pain, and was most likely really tired. 

But so were you.

Having waited over an hour at the airport trying to track some of Changbin’s lost luggage during their performance. A while after that, both of his items had been located and it was your task to return them to him. 

For a few spare seconds, you thought it would be wise to just wait until the morning since you were convinced that he was asleep. But it wasn’t until you heard some rustling and footsteps behind the door right before it opened.

“Oh,” Changbin rubs his drowsy eyes. “Sorry, I swear I was up and then I closed my eyes and drifted off.” 

It was easy to tell by his bed hair, the way that his natural curls were starting to peek through, “no it’s okay, you must be tired.”

“You have no idea,” he replies and looks at both bags of his luggage that you had been rolling with you since you got back. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Where were they?”

He takes one off of you while you roll the other one into his room, “they were at a different luggage pick-up. But we already rang the airport to say that they were missing and then it took them an hour to track them. Anyway, did you go to see the physio in the meantime?"

About a few hours ago after the concert had finished, Changbin was complaining about how sore he was after the gym. It’s common for him to feel that way since he practically lives in that space. Only this time around, he might’ve pushed himself a bit too hard - that and during the concert. 

“Nah,” he brushes it off as the door closes behind you both. “I can’t see any of them until tomorrow.” 

“Do you think you’re injured maybe?” You ask concernedly. 

Changbin huffs, “I’m not injured! I’m only sore and my muscles hurt like hell. Plus I always warmup and cool down properly.” 

“Okay then, where are you sore?” You question again. 

“Mainly my back,” he answers and goes to sit down on the edge of the bed. 

“Upper or lower?” 

“My upper,” Changbin confirms and tilts his head, looking at you. “I didn’t realise you were so concerned about me.” 

Your eyes narrow at him, “not in the way that you might think.”

“Sure, sure,” he chuckles lightheartedly. “Anyway, if you’re going to ask me so many questions about my injury, you wouldn’t happen to be a physiotherapist right?” 

“So you are injured.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he corrects. “I'm just sore, and I need a good night's sleep.” 

“Well, if you want me to I suppose,” you say, ignoring his tone of voice. 

“Wait...” He asks in disbelief. “Really?” 

“I did a year in physio at college so I know a few things,” you answer, placing your own bag on the lowered counter where luggage is usually stored in the room. “I’m not a licensed one though.”

Changbin ponders; he has no way of getting in to see their physio at this point in time. Even just a massage would be some relief to him. 

Whilst you aren’t professional in either of those fields, you didn’t study it for nothing. You know the functions of the body and muscles inside out. You know what happens to them when they’re under stress, torn, or strained. But also the remedies which can help repair them. 

“Okay then, if you’re able to,” Changbin agrees. “Where do you want me?”

“The bed, so take your shirt off and lie on your stomach,” you instruct. 

Changbin side-eyes you, “a date would be nice first,” he says even though he’s taking his shirt off in a rush.

You roll your eyes and take a small kit out of your bag. It’s stocked with the essentials; plasters, KT tape, scissors, cold spray - usually for Minho if his shoulder is playing up - nail clippers, all of which you have just in case.

These boys are constantly on the go and are prone to getting injured. So even though it’s not your job, you still keep things handy when there aren’t any left. But also because they end up asking you anyway whenever you're around. Spontaneous massages aren’t on that list though, but there's always a first for everything.

By that point, Changbin had stripped himself of his t-shirt, placed it to his side and lay face down on the bed. There were a couple of silent seconds of you preparing what you needed but also admiring Changbin’s body. 

His back and shoulders are broad but especially taut, you’ve seen them before when he walks around the dressing room with his top half stripped of any fabric. But you’ve never seen nor felt it - not that you would in that type of way. 

In saying that, you start by taking the small tub of deep heat, unscrewing the cap, and scooping some of the product onto your hand and setting the tub aside. Your first point of contact with Changbin’s back makes him jolt. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, turning his head on the pillow.

“It’s fine. I’m gonna start now okay?” 

“Got it,” he says. 

You dollop a little bit more of the deep heat onto Changbin before spreading it and working it in until his skin absorbs it. He’s smooth to the touch. Your hands glide over every glorious muscle.

It doesn’t really sink in that you’re doing this until Changbin hums, sounding like he’s in relief. Within a few moments, he feels like his back is pressed up against a heater. His skin is hot and burning slightly, but that’s the whole purpose of the deep heat. It’s to soften the bunched muscles in his back, making it easier to knead and roll them out like dough.

However, given the state this part of his body is in, you can already make an observation on how tense his muscles are under your hands. 

“You’re tight,” you feel as he rubs into a spot just above his right shoulder blade. “When did you say was the last time you went to physio?”

Changbin’s face flushes, he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks as if you put the deep heat on his face. 

“I-I didn’t,” he responds, trying to relax. “But I haven’t been at all so far.”

You pause, “we have three physios and a sports massage therapist for a reason. You can’t tell me that you haven’t been to see one of them so far.”

“Some of the others are seeing them shortly and I didn’t wanna wait that long,” he argues. You use the thumb and the pad of your index finger to dig and narrowly drag down Changbin’s spine, making him contort to the left slightly.

“I’ve still been able to take care of myself after shows and whatnot. Ice baths and stuff like that, so I haven’t had any injuries so far," he adds.

“You don’t just take ice baths though, do you?” You ask, digging for more information to see if he really has been taking care of himself. 

“Yeah, cold showers too,” he adds to his list. 

“Heat is also good for your muscles, you know that right?”

“Not as good as cold techniques,” he says. “Right?” 

“Depends on when you need it,” You point out. “You're a gym rat. I thought you already knew all of this information about taking care of your body-"

“Ah-” 

Your hands still for a second from his reaction, “hurts?” 

Changbin nods before his eyes flash open when you press your thumb deeper into the same spot. He lets out a yelp, his arms coming up to the sides of his shoulders, getting ready to prop himself up. 

“Yeah - yes, that really hurts, fuck,” he groans. 

“If it hurts, it’s working,” you use the flat of your hand to push Changbin back down into the mattress. 

“That’s a very outdated saying,” he strains, trying to absorb the soreness before it eventually becomes bearable. 

It takes him a few moments to melt against your touch now that his back is slightly more relaxed and warmed up. He’s now more susceptible to sensitivity which for him, heightens your contact on him. He doesn’t exactly know why it feels good - strangely good. But Changbin doesn’t complain. 

“Y/N…” he breathes out involunintarily.

You freeze on the spot, wondering if your ears deceived you for a second. Surely Changbin didn’t just moan out your name. All you’re doing is unravelling knots in his back. But even so, you were curious for a split second and when curiosity takes shape, there’s nothing you can do about it. So to test your theory, you take a little bit more deep heat, rubbing it between your fingers and massaging it slowly over the area. 

Changbin’s hands grip the sheets in response. He can’t control any of his reactions to the way your hands smooth over his back, or when the heel of your palm digs and drags nicely down his back. He doesn’t even want to think about where else good he feels.

“How does it feel now?” You test. 

His response is a strange, high pitched hum, but he does give a small nod. You try not to smirk even though it’s not like he’s able to see it. 

“I’m sorry,” Changbin swallows, almost panting. “It's just...you touching me.”

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him.

“No!” he exclaims too quickly. “I mean, only if you want to. I’m okay with it, just…tender.” 

You’re thankful that Changbin can’t see you blushing with embarrassment. You don’t know why you reacted that way but the more you massage his back, the more you forget about the moment. Changbin on the other hand begins to panic when he recognises that he’s actually horny. 

Over the minutes gone by, his cock starts slowly filling out between his legs. It’s an awkward position to be hard and lie down at the same time. Either way, nothing is stopping it from happening and certainly not your hands. The heat, the cream, your touch, the wet, sticky sounds that it’s making, makes him think things that have crossed the border of ‘appropriate’. 

“Are you okay? You seem like you’re struggling a bit,” you witness his shoulder blades start to cinch together.

“Fine,” Changbin turns his face into the pillow. “It’s sore but…it feels good.”

You look down at his hands and see him gripping the sheets again. From any physiotherapist’s point of view, Changbin might just be expressing that this hurts. That you’re really relieving the stress and tension built up in his back. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he mumbles. 

But from your point of view, you can tell that he’s actually enjoying this more than he should be. You mentally scold yourself for jumping to that conclusion, because in what world does someone get off from having their back rubbed? It might be this world because when you realise that Changbin is making small, almost unnoticeable thrusts with his hips, he can’t help but want to speak his mind.

Usually, massages, erotic ones at least, are accompanied by other forms of actions, at least that's what you thought before Changbin started to become visibly flustered

“Changbin,” you say as he takes his tone as a warning.

His eyes flash open, knowing what he’s just done, what he couldn’t help but do, “fuck. S-Sorry, I didn’t expect…”

Didn’t expect what? Changbin doesn’t even know what the rest of his unfinished question means and he obviously doesn’t know the answer. Flustered as hell, he cannot seem to rack his brain for a lie. Even if he did, you would be able to see right through it. 

“Again, it’s just someone touching me...” he mutters aloud what he's feeling.

You pause, “are you sure you don't want me to stop? If not, I’d like to get these last few knots out of your back.”

Changbin knows that this situation could go one of three ways. If he lets you continue to massage him, he will definitely cum. The bonus there is that his back will feel better and also his dick.

But if he asks you to stop, it'll be awkward as hell having to deal with the fact that he’s fully hard. The downside is that there are still knots in his back, and he won’t get to sleep, which ultimately means he'll be in a terrible mood.

The other way is that there is an unlikely small chance that he won't cum. His body might be overly excited right now, but it could pass. There's a 99% chance that he might have time to get soft. But with the way that you're both going, he knows it probably won't happen.

“I…I don’t know,” Changbin replies, clearly confused. “It’s been a while since…someone touched me-“

“That’s okay,” you dismiss his babbling. “It’s not unusual.”

He swallows, bewildered, “it’s not?”

“No,” you assure him. 

At this point, you would stop but for some...fucked up reason, you want to keep going. You really want to see how this ends. You’ve never been someone who half asses things, so how is this any different? Plus it’s technically your fault after making Changbin unintentionally horny. At least that’s the state he’s currently in to your knowledge. 

But you’re okay with that if he is. 

“Wanting contact with other human beings isn’t abnormal Binnie. You’re obviously just a bit touch-deprived.”

“T-That’s a thing?” He asks, turning his head to try and look at you. But you smooth your palm up his spine, massaging into the divots until he reaches the base of his neck so that he can relax and not focus so much on you. 

“There’s this theory that we all need human contact. Not sexually per se, but mundane things like hugs, holding hands and all that,” you start explaining. 

“I guess that makes sense,” Changbin responds, then tries to suppress a grunt when you start gliding lower to his tailbone again.

You’re working the area just under his shoulder blade which at the moment seems to be the most sensitive. That and his dick - indirectly. Changbin is too embarrassed to think about the fact that you can read him far too easily. Either that or he’s just being extremely obvious, which he is. 

“Even just social interaction at times. Studies show that there’s a link between loneliness and touch deprivation,” you add.

He can’t even believe he’s having this conversation with you. At the very most, he can’t believe that your hands are on him and making him feel certain things that are beyond his control. 

“R-Really?” Changbin jolts when you begin kneading his back again, like every cell in his body is on edge. 

“With these interactions, it can release a neurochemical in the brain called oxytocin which is responsible for good feelings…”

Neurochemical...oxytocin….Changbin appreciates the science talk and in fact, it’s strangely hot to hear it come out of your mouth. But he cannot focus on what he’s saying at all, because his dick is achingly hard and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Fuck…” Changbin swallows harshly. “Touch me, please.”

“I believe I am touching you,” you respond coldly. 

He doesn’t even know if your words were teasing or not. He just wants to relieve the throbbing ache in his dick when all he can do is make small thrusting movements. It’s not until you use the pads of his thumbs to press into a few points in his tailbone. It feels good in terms of the pain he had in his back, but now he can’t thrust against the mattress anymore. Not yet at least. 

Changbin whines when you slowly release the pressure of his touch.

“You have a nice back,” you comment, then gently scratch down it with your fingernails, not enough to hurt him, but it definitely makes the deep heat feel hotter. 

“Oh my god m’gonna cum,” Changbin exclaims out in a choked, rushed voice. His words instantly confirm your thoughts, so you continue to slowly rub down his back to his tailbone again. “Please..."

“It’s okay, you can come,” with the heel of your palm once more, you knead just under his shoulder blade, enough to make Changbin keen to the side. 

His eyes snap shut before he’s dipped into pleasure. He goes silent for a few seconds, still making tiny movements, almost as if he were trying to fuck someone into the mattress. For him, it’s an odd sensation because his cock had been completely untouched and neglected. 

Breathing heavily, Changbin slowly opens his eyes when the realisation dawns on him. He spends the first ten seconds of his comedown trying to figure out where he is. Your soothing hands slowly and gently rubbing up his back reorients him. The heat that the cream provided is now turning into a cooling sensation, added in with your touch. It feels good, and even better now that his muscles are at ease. 

“Feel better?”

“H-Heaps,” he swallows, now feeling like someone tipped a bucket of ice water on top of his head.  

“Good,” you smile to yourself, content with that outcome. “You should probably clean yourself up then.” 

-

A/N: thank you everyone for your patience. The last half of this week was so busy for me, so I’m back writing and catching up the works x

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzekat 🩷🩷🩷 (if I’ve forgotten anyone again, please let me know 🙃)

[heavenlyvision]

IT'S GETTING COLD AGAIN

pairing: bi-han/reader

wc: 12.6k

this is part 6 to my 'when hell freezes over' series with bi-han ʚ⁺˖⤷ part one part two part three part four part five

summary: after bi-han says something so incredibly vulnerable you're faced with a choice but how are you meant to reciprocate when you're feeling so confused and how long will he wait for your reply. both action and inaction have consequences.

a/n; it took me a while to get back to my origins but here it is... the boy! for those who were patient during the wait -- thank you very much! i appreciate you all heaps and i hope it was – at the very least – semi-worth the wait <3 (i'm a little unsure about this one so if it's not good i'm really sorry) ૮꒰ o̴̶̷᷄᎔o̴̶̷̥᷅ ꒱ა

warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, reader cries, comfort(?), swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, denied orgasms/edging, overstimulation, creampie, mean!bi-han, f!reader, use of she/her pronouns, no y/n used

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

That night, he doesn’t go to your room and you’re too scared to go to his. you hadn’t been able to say anything in reply, you stood there, dumb and scared. You’re not used to being cared for and you weren’t expecting such an admission from him… not now.

But the longer you stared, the colder his expression grew, it’s like you could see in real time how he was putting his walls back into place, disappointed in your lack of reciprocation but too guarded to confront you about it, he wanted to move on and pretend he hadn’t just said that, pretend he hadn’t just ruined everything…. but he hadn’t ruined anything, you had.

In that moment, you didn’t know if the way you felt was anxiety or excitement, it’s still not clear to you now. It’s been a week since that night in the kitchen and he hasn’t approached you. It hurts but you know you’re the one who’s meant to approach him… you’re scared and the longer you leave it, the more scared you get.

You feel like you’ve left it too long but you don’t want to go to him without having something concrete to offer. Telling him you’re confused feels unfair, you want to be able to tell him exactly how you feel.

Training is difficult, you’re trying so hard to focus but it’s not working and you keep getting your ass thrown on the floor. For the fourth time in a row, Kenshi trips you up and has you on the floor below him, he looks down at you and quirks a brow, “You feeling okay?”

Sighing you take the hand he offers you and let him pull you up, “Yes?”

“You don’t sound certain,” he’s a little amused by your unsure tone.

You groan a bit, disgruntled, “I’m distracted.”

“I’ve noticed,” he tilts his head at you, waiting for you to offer him an answer as to why.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s go again,” you move back into a defensive stance, getting ready for him to come at you first.

He crosses his arms over his chest, not moving, “You have lost the past four rounds and you want to keep going? Isn’t your ass bruised enough?”

“Don’t get cocky just cause I’m off my game,” you glower at him.

He scoffs a bit at that, “You’re not just ‘off your game’, you’re not even in the game right now.”

The words make your stance falter, “Okay…ouch.”

His expression is sheepish, a little sorry for being so harsh, “If I drop you again you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You perk back up, “Easy, I won’t be dropped again.”

…You’re dropped again. It’s a little embarrassing how easily he manages to get you back onto your ass, he was right… you’re not in the game today. You shouldn’t have made that deal… how are you meant to tell him about what Bi-Han said and what you didn’t say.

Kenshi offers his hand to help you up again and as you take it, you feel Bi-Han’s eyes on you. You falter in getting up, resulting in Kenshi using more force to pull you up, you bump into him slightly.

His hands move to either side of your shoulders and pull you back, “Woah, you good?”

Bi-Han’s eyes on you feel weighted, “Hmm? Yeah, sorry…” You take a step away from him, out of his reach.

You’re fighting the urge to look for Bi-Han, too anxious to meet his eyes. Turning your head in the opposite direction, you wait for the feeling of him watching you to stop. When he walks away, you can feel yourself physically relax and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ah,” Kenshi speaks after having watched the scene unfold in front of him, “I see what has happened now.”

“Nothing happened,” you insist, not wanting to talk about this with anyone, there isn’t anyone you feel like you could talk to regarding this.

“I’m not an idiot,” he rolls his eyes lightly. “We had a deal… you gonna talk to me?”

You huff, “It’s fine, honestly.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have been absent all week,” he argues.

Feeling awkward, you try to keep denying, “I’ve not been that bad…”

He gives you a straight on look, one that says ‘yes, yes you have been that bad’.

You give in, “He said something, I didn’t… and now I feel confused and bad…”

“Do you have something you want to say to him?” He asks, simply.

Tipping your head to the side for a moment, you answer, “I have plenty of things I want to say but I’m not sure about anything and I feel like going to him with anything other than certainty in the words I say is a disservice to him…”

He thinks on your words, “I understand your line of thinking… but don’t you think leaving him in the dark and ignoring him is an even bigger disservice?”

Exasperated, you pose, “What good is talking to him when I have nothing of significance to say?”

“What good is ignoring him?” He shuffles his feet and rolls his head, “Listen, I’m gonna be blunt for a second–”

“–Aren’t you always?”

“Hush,” he squints at you in disapproval but continues on, “Are you ignoring him for his sake or for yours? What I mean to say is… is talking to him harder for him or for you. Because personally, I think you’re scared of what the possible consequences of whatever you say might be. If you cared so much about how he was feeling, you wouldn’t be making him wait a week to hear from you.”

You pout and mumble, “He could also approach me…”

“He said something and you didn’t, isn’t it your turn to talk?” He shrugs.

It’s annoying that you told him so little but he’s inferred a lot from it… you don’t know if he’s completely correct but you know he’s not all wrong. Part of you knew that ignoring Bi-Han wasn’t fair to him but you don’t think you’re wrong about not being able to answer him properly being unfair either.

It comes down to what is less fair right now and annoyingly, Kenshi is right, in that it’s less fair to be ignoring him after he was so vulnerable. You’re just worried you might have waited too long and now he won’t be able to give himself that piece of you that he was willing to a week ago. Though… that’s probably the consequence you’ve been so scared of.

“I can see I’ve given you a lot to think about,” Kenshi’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You make eye contact with him, “I don’t know what you mean, we never spoke about this and even if we did… everything you said was so far off base that I couldn’t relate it to anything that has happened to me even if I wanted to…”

He barks a small laugh at your statement, “Alright, I get the message, we never spoke about this, I didn’t hear anything, in fact… I’m not even sure I know you.”

You smile softly, “Thank you, Kenshi.”

He gives you a puzzled look, “I’m sorry? Do I know you?”

You laugh at that, “Come on grandpa, it’s just after midday, nearly dinner time for you.”

“Har har,” he begins walking away from you at your bad joke and you have to jog to keep up with him.

❆˖°

It’s hard to think, it isn’t normally, at least not when you’re here but you have too many thoughts to sort through for the venue to have any impact on them. The rock is as it always is, it’s cold but the view is pretty and the air is clean, nature is humming and the earth is still, and in spite of all these things, in spite of how much comfort the elements grace you with, you are frustrated to the bone.

Are you still in a relationship? You’ve not spoken in over a week now… it’s not even like you’re fighting, you just aren’t talking. The regret you feel is digging straight down into your core and settling deep, you miss him so much, does he miss you?

All at once, you’re too aware of how you’re sabotaging yourself, it’s not that you’re uncertain about how you feel… you know very well how you feel. You’re just not as brave as Bi-Han, because instead of saying aloud how you feel, you fell silent. Is it too late to tell him you’re scared too? That you’re falling for him too?

Gods, you’ve messed everything up, he was so open with you, it was a moment that by all means called for that kind of vulnerability and you dropped it all. Remembering his face hurts more than anything, if he’s blaming himself even a little bit for your mistake, for your inaction, you’re going to jump off a cliff.

Against your will, your eyes well with tears, you try to hold them back but ultimately fail. You decide to let yourself have this quiet moment to cry, folding in on yourself, tucking your head into your knees and wrapping your arms around yourself. You can’t even pretend to ask how it all got this way; you know how it got to be this way; it was by your own hand.

The pair of you had parted that night, going different directions, few words spoken other than goodnights. The last thing you had said to him before you left for your room had been another thank you for dinner, too casual for the words he had spoken.

You need to stop crying, it’s self-pitying at this point, you have literally no one else to blame but yourself. You need to get over this inability to be cared for.

“I’d ask if you were okay but I can clearly see that is not the case,” Liu Kang’s voice from behind shocks you. Hastily, you wipe at your eyes as he comes into your view, “You missed dinner… again.”

You sniffle, “Ah, I didn’t realise, sorry…”

He ignores your lie, he knows you’ve been avoiding group dinners, “He’s worried you know.”

Doubting Liu Kang’s knowledge on this, you ask, “Did he tell you that?”

“He did not have to, it’s quite obvious,” His tone is calm, like it always is.

All you can manage to say is, “I messed up…”

“Can you not fix it?” He hums in thought.

Your hands smooth over your knees, “I don’t think so.”

He immediately follows up with, “Have you tried?”

The question makes you feel embarrassed because, “…No, I haven’t.”

“Then how do you know?” You must look pitiful when you look up at him, eyes wet and round from crying. He places a hand atop your head in a soothing way, it’s warm, “Try.”

Voice breaking, you ask, “What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“You live with the consequences,” He says it easily, like that wouldn’t be the hardest thing to do.

Hesitating, you add, “I don’t know if I can… Liu, I’m scared…”

“Be scared,” he smiles at you, “And do it anyways.”

“It can’t be as easy as you’re making it sound,” you slump down slightly.

His hand moves to your back, “I did not say it would be easy, I said talk to him… even if it is scary and hard.”

You face away from him, feeling emotional, “You’re annoying.”

He doesn’t take your words to heart, “Only because I am right and you know it,” he removes his hand from you and sits beside you on the rock.

Turning back to him, you rest your head on your knees again, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You may ask,” he answers, making it clear if he doesn’t like the question he won’t answer.

Watching carefully, you ask him, “Have you ever been in love?”

He looks down, his mind drifting, “I have been, a long time ago now…”

“Was it scary?” You feel small and silly.

“Anything new or grand is scary,” he looks to you, “But it was worth it and I’d do it again.”

You feel compelled to ask for details, “What happened?”

“Far too much, too long ago,” he dismisses.

Wanting more, you press, “Did you get a happy ending?”

“In a way,” he looks solemn but you believe him.

Instead of asking for details, you ask something cliche, “How did you know you were in love? …Did you know you were in love… or did you just think you were?”

“Are they not essentially the same thing?” He looks up and sighs, “Only you will know, it’s not something to be described and it’s different for everyone. There is no one way to love.” He looks at you carefully, “If you are asking me because you think I have some hidden knowledge others don’t, I am sorry to let you down but I think my answer is pretty close to what most people would say.”

“You didn’t let me down… I think you’ve helped me sort some things internally,” you offer him a genuine smile, it’s small but it’s real. Tipping sideways, you lean your head on his shoulder, “Thank you for indulging me.”

He looks up to the stars, “Anytime.”

You think you may have unintentionally gotten him to open up about something he’s not spoken on in a long time and you’re grateful that he did just to answer your silly questions. You wonder if him being able to talk about it helped at all, at the very least, you hope whatever he remembered tonight didn’t hurt too much.

❆˖°

You’ve been given a lot to think about, today has been incredibly overwhelming, the whole week has been but today more so. Both Kenshi and Liu Kang have given you their advice and they both essentially said the same thing, it’s the kind of advice you’d give to anyone in your position – talk to him.

It’s getting late but you leave your room to sneak to the kitchen, just because you haven’t been going to group dinners doesn’t mean you haven’t been eating. You’ve made a habit of lurking in the kitchen after hours to eat whatever you can find; you think Liu noticed pretty early on what you were doing because you’ll frequently find a bowl of whatever they had that night left for you.

The air is cold and you feel stupid, carefully wandering the grounds in your pyjamas and a robe, getting caught wouldn’t really be all that bad, you’d just look like an idiot. The kitchen is warmer though and the indoors welcome you inside, you immediately start looking for something to eat, accidentally knocking into some utensils, the clanging sound startling you, your hands frantically reach out to stop the awful noise.

Bi-Han’s deep voice fills your ears, “Well, at least I know you have been eating.”

It’s late but the chill runs down your spine, you were too busy with the noise you made to notice his presence behind you. You’re stock still, wondering how you’re meant to react, should you apologise now? Should you pretend it’s fine? Like you have no idea what he’s talking about? You feel nervous, heart hammering in your chest, you don’t even know if you can bring yourself to look at him. After everything you feel ashamed, how could you meet his eyes–

He's tired as he sighs out, “Look at me.”

Your eyes stay on the utensils you just ran into, hands limp at you sides, “Uhm… I can’t…”

“Can’t or won’t?” You can hear his frustration growing.

How are you meant to answer that? Pausing awkwardly, you eventually say, “Either? Both?”

He grumbles your name lowly… unhappy with your answer, he moves closer to you, body just to the side of you. You always thought you’d be the kind of person to fight or flee when confronted but instead you’re completely frozen… He’s so close to you, close enough to touch, you’ve missed him so much and now he’s within arm’s reach and you don’t feel like you have the right to touch him.

Before you lose your nerve and all ability to think, you force out, “You’re too close… I can’t… think.”

You wonder what kind of expression he made when you said that, you didn’t mean for it to be unkind. He doesn’t complain though, he silently takes a step away from you. It’s unclear to you if he has nothing to say or if he’s patiently waiting for you to speak first, if you were a gambling man, you’d bet on the latter. Despite his outward behaviours, he usually has something to say.

This is harder than you thought, you haven’t had a chance to think about what exactly you want to say to him. You know you wanted to talk to him the next time you saw him, you just didn’t know it would be so soon. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

He scoffs slightly, “Who’s avoiding whom?”

You thought he had been avoiding you as well but maybe he was giving you space, “What did you come here for?”

He avoids your question with his own, “What else would I come here for, other than you?”

“Bi-Han…”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come to me… In your own time but I’m not a patient man and this is getting annoying.” He hesitates before continuing, “If you don’t feel the same way… then forget I said anything.”

Shaking your head, you cement, “No.”

“No?” His tone is gruff.

You finally look at him, “I don’t want to forget something like that, you were honest and vulnerable… Bi-Han, I don’t want you regretting that.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, his expression unmoving, “Could’ve fooled me–”

“­–I was surprised… I was scared… I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me but I’m not exactly the best at all of this,” you gesture between the two of you, hoping he understands because you can’t find the right words right now.

He’s frowning, “I didn’t ask you to be the best but when I say something like that, I at least expect something other than ‘thanks for dinner’.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he adds, “You also didn’t need to avoid me after.”

“I didn’t see you trying especially hard to talk to me afterwards,” this is bad, you’re feeling defensive, you’re not ready for this yet.

“You wouldn’t even spare a glance in my direction…” He sighs, “I thought if I gave you space, you would eventually explain things to me.”

Trying to defend yourself, you say, “I was going to!”

 “When?” His voice raises slightly with his question.

You’re frustrated, he’s surprisingly adept at communicating, you’re feeling more ashamed now… how is he able to better express himself than you. “I don’t like this conversation…”

“And you think I do? You think this is fun for me?” He moves closer again, standing in front of you, you’d forgotten how big he was… “The woman I am in a relationship with has been ignoring me for an entire week after I said I was falling for her and you think I’m having the time of my life? Do you realise how tedious and annoying I find talking about my feelings to be?”

Ah, he’s angry and you can’t even blame him, you think you would be angry with yourself too… in fact, you are.

He takes in and releases a deep breath, “Explain it to me, explain what happened.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, “I got scared… I wasn’t ready to be confronted with my own feelings. I froze up… and then I didn’t come to you because I didn’t have anything concrete to give you and I felt like you deserved… a real response.”

His eyes close in thought for a second, “You’re the only person here whose company I actually enjoy, I’d rather you be confused and talk to me than be certain and avoiding me.”

“Are you mad?” It’s a question with an obvious answer.

He doesn’t hesitate, “I’m furious.”

Yeah, you expected that much, “I’m sorry…”

He ignores your apology, not really looking for you to be sorry, “Did you find your answer?”

“Huh?”

“To what I said.”

“I did,” you shuffle from side to side, “I was going to talk to you… next time I saw you.”

He doesn’t speak but you can tell he’s telling you that time is now.

The mood doesn’t feel right, how can you tell a man that you’re also falling for him when he’s looking at you all angrily, “Well, I don’t really want to answer now… you’re all angry at me.”

“Woman,” his tone is restrained, trying not to yell at you, “You’re torturing me, you know that right?”

You swear you can see the veins in his neck twitching, like he’s a second away from exploding on the spot, “This doesn’t really… there aren’t really… UGH.” You raise your arms in exasperation, “The vibes aren’t especially romantic right now, Bi-Han.”

“And whose fault is that?” His tone is still firm but he’s growing to be somewhat amused, your clear struggle almost making up for being ignored.

“I feel embarrassed,” you know he knows what you want to say now.

He’s being cruel though, he’s punishing you, “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Of course not!–”

“–Then spit it out,” he interjects.

“Bi-Han,” you’re pouting now, “You already know what I want to say, can’t we leave it at that?”

“Absolutely not.”

He is giving you no mercy, not here, not tonight, not after what you did, “I feel the same as you.”

“Not good enough.”

You’d scowl at him but you’ve not earned that right, “This is hard.”

“I know,” he says.

Looking to him, you add, “I’m scared.”

He repeats, “I know.”

“I’m falling for you, Bi-Han,” as hard as it felt to get the words out, when you’re already saying them, they flow past your lips easily.

He looks a little lost at first, like he’s swimming through countless thoughts and feelings, like he’s not quite sure where he’s going to end up but then his eyes glint mischievously, “Thanks.”

You deflate slightly and mumble out, eyes looking down, “You’re welcome.”

He moves closer to you, sighing, “Ahhh,” he’s right in front of you, you can see his feet in front of your own, “Can I be this close to you, or are you still having a hard time thinking?”

You ignore his question, “Are you still mad?”

He considers, “Somewhat.”

“I’m sorry,” you can’t look up at him, you feel like a crybaby because your eyes are welling with tears, feeling incredibly guilty, “I’m really sorry, Bi-Han.”

“Shhh,” He hushes, his hand reaching out and resting on the back of your head, he pulls you forward so you’re leaning on his chest, “I know you are.”

“I don’t want to break up, I missed you a lot,” you don’t wrap your arms around him even though you really want to.

He steps closer again, his arms coming around you fully while yours hang limply at your sides, “Mmm,” he hums in understanding, “We aren’t breaking up, don’t cry over something like that.”

“You’re still mad though,” you sniffle.

“Yeah, I am…” he leans down, his head coming to the side of yours, nuzzling you slightly, “But I get to be, you went off and got all caught up in your own head, left me here worrying about you,” his lips brush against your cheekbone, “So, I’m going to be a little mad while I hold you close and tell you how much I like you.”

He kisses your cheek before moving his head and resting his chin against the top of yours, just holding you like this. “Hug me back or I’m gonna get mad again,” he might be joking but he also might not be.

Your arms wrap around him, tugging him closer, missing him so much. Being able to touch him, having him touch you, it’s making you dizzy, “I missed you a lot.”

He huffs, “You put me through it you know? Didn’t know if you were eating properly… didn’t know if you…” He grunts, “Didn’t know if you still wanted me…”

“I’m–”

“–Don’t apologise again, that’s not what I want… just want you to know that this was awful,” his lips move beside your ear, “Don’t do this to me again, not over something like this.” He pulls back so he can look you in the eyes, free arm still holding you to him, “Next time, talk to me properly.”

The irony is not lost on you, how you had wanted him to talk to you about his feelings properly, only to be unable to do the same. It feels ridiculous, you feel ridiculous and it’s frustrating you.  

You start before trailing off, “Bi-Han…”

He groans, “…If you’re going to apologise again, I don’t want to hear it.”

Pushing on, you insist, “But I am sorry, I just… sometimes I need time to process things and–”

“–Be quiet now.” He cuts you off, he doesn’t need some grand explanation from you, he understands what happened. He had opened his confession for the depth of his feelings by telling you he was frightened, he gets it.

Sulking, you complain, “I feel silly…”

“You are…” He leans in closer to you, “…But I still like you so it’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours.

It feels like your skin is on fire, his proximity to you feels brand new. His lips grazing yours is electric, you want him to kiss you so badly but you don’t move, not willing to mess it up. He’s managed to fully distract you from the comment he made, snarking back at him not even a passing thought in your head, the only thing you want is for him to kiss you.

Bi-Han can’t help the small and amused smile on his lips at how you look incredibly desperate for him to do something as simple as kiss you. He considers not kissing you, just for moment, just to see the way your face would fall and how you’d pout all pathetically at him. But like he said, he’s not a patient man and he has missed you.

Closing the almost non-existent gap, he kisses you fully, his lips on yours reverent, he really had missed you. He pulls back too soon for your liking, if the sad whine you let out is anything to go off of. The sound you make has him almost caving but he thinks that punishing you by depriving you of physical contact will result in you doing something much more interesting.

“You should eat something,” he breathes against you.

Ignoring him, you move in to press your lips onto his again, he’s so close, but he’s a dick and he moves back at the last second. It feels taunting, cruel, you hate this about him, mostly you hate that you like this about him.

Why is he choosing now to be mean? “Didn’t you miss kissing me?”

He huffs, “Oh, that’s a harsh thing to say, of course I did.”

Exasperated, you complain, “Then­–”

Raising a single brow at you he encourages you to keep going, but you stop. You aren’t even really sure what you want to say, plus you feel a little at a disadvantage with your usual back and forth. You normally are but especially right now.

He shakes his head slightly, “No, go on, finish what you were saying.” You stand silently in front of him and he continues, “Feeling guilty?”

“A little…” It’s not lost on you how he’s not used the pet name he has for you a single time tonight.

“Don’t,” he’s moving in close and planting a full kiss on your mouth before you can fully register it. He doesn’t linger for long, his lips on yours for a mere moment before he’s pulling away and walking through the kitchen.

You’re stood stunned, stuck to your spot, mind reeling over his kiss. How he manages to kiss you in a way that affects you so deeply, even when it’s just a fleeting moment, you have no idea.

His words from behind you catch your attention, “You hungry or not?”

“Yes,” Control of your body comes back to you as your brain reboots at his question.

Bi-Han complains to himself mostly, voice unimpressed, “Dinner wasn’t that good tonight…”

You laugh a little, “Whatever was left is fine.”

Grumbling slightly, he reheats your food for you and doesn’t leave while you eat, you have a feeling his reluctance to leave your side is due heavily to you avoiding him for as long as you did and you feel really bad about it. You wonder if this overwhelming guilt will ever leave you, looking at him and how doting he is on you even after you were an asshole makes your chest squeeze.

After you’ve eaten, he walks you back to your room, his side brushing yours the whole way back. He’s so close to you and you want to hold his hand but you’re not sure you’re allowed to. It’s dumb, holding his hand would’ve been something you’d do without any hesitation previously but now everything you want to do has you thinking hard about whether or not you’re allowed to.

In the end, he grabs your hand himself, frustrated with how you kept glancing down at his. He was wondering how long it would take for you to reach out to him but as your room was getting closer and closer, he was growing more and more annoyed with how you had yet to even try and move your hand to his.

Your hand feels cold even to him, “Why are you out in so little?”

Shrugging, you answer, “I was only going to eat quickly and rush back to my room…”

His tone is unamused, “You need to wear more at night.”

“Noted,” your reply is unconcerned, you feel fine, a little chilly but it’s not like it’s going to kill you.

At your door, you aren’t sure what you expected but it certainly wasn’t him refusing to come inside. You had walked into the room easily, tugging him behind you mindlessly, only to be met with resistance. He’d pulled back slightly, not moving from the threshold.

Now, his large frame stands in front of you, imposing. Face unreadable, you have no way of knowing what he’s thinking, you liked to think you had gotten pretty good at understanding him but right now, you’re at a complete and utter lost.

Feeling sheepish, you stumble over your words, embarrassed, “Oh… sorry, I don’t know why I assumed… you would want to come inside…”

He still doesn’t make any obvious show of emotion, “I do.”

Your expression shifts to one of confusion, “Come inside then?”

“I can’t.”

What is wrong with him? “I’m not understanding.”

“You should go to bed,” he pulls you to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow…” His voice is low as he hold you close, his lips pressing to yours softly, a goodnight kiss.

You sigh into him, “Bi-Han…”

“Good night,” his hands leave you.

You repeat his words, though it comes out more like a question, “…Good night?”

He walks off in the direction you came, trailing back to his own room. He was always somewhat of an odd character but this was an absurd interaction. Flopping into bed, you get comfortable under the covers and drift. Sleeping okay for the first time in a while, mood feeling slightly better after being able to see and talk to him.

❆˖°

The room is cold and it’s early in the morning, you can’t bring yourself to even try and leave the warmth of your covers. Someone will come for you if you don’t get up soon but you’re so warm and so comfy and it’s hard getting up in the morning, especially lately.

Memories of last night and talking to Bi-Han are swarming your mind, it’s too early to think about it all. He didn’t say he forgave you, he seemed like he was okay but the idea of him never really forgiving you hurts you deeply. He said he was still somewhat mad… what does that even mean? How do you make it up to him? Does he just need time?

There are so many questions you still have and you would’ve asked them last night if you hadn’t gotten distracted by how guilty you felt. You want to see Bi-Han again but you’re so unsure of yourself and how you should behave with him. He didn’t hesitate to reach out to you but every time you want to reach for him, you hesitate and it’s making you restless.

An abrupt knock on the door startles you but you tuck back in under your covers and pretend to still be asleep, not wanting to get up yet. They seem to wait a moment before a few more knocks tap at your door, a bit more forceful this time. You consider getting up and letting them in this time but you ultimately can’t bring yourself to get up and your head ends up under the covers as well.

The door sliding open surprises you, having thought they would just walk away when you didn’t reply. Other than the door opening and closing, it’s silent, you can’t even hear their footsteps on the floorboards. Are they even walking into the room? You’re confused but you keep your head tucked under the covers.

A few moments go by in the quiet room and if you couldn’t feel an overwhelming presence, you’d assume they had just looked in for a moment before leaving. You don’t know what you should do next, revealing yourself just proves you were awake the whole time and you’re unwilling to give up that easy.

While considering your next move, Bi-Han’s voice cuts through the quiet, “You and I both know you’re awake under there.”

You don’t speak and you certainly don’t move, you aren’t really quite sure why you don’t just get up but enough time has gone by now that you’re a little embarrassed and the longer you wait to get up the more stupid it all feels, so you think it might just be best if you stay under the blanket.

His voice comes again, unamused, “Are you really going to make me pull you out of the bed by your ankles?” Impatient taps of his foot hitting the floor reach your ears, the only sound you’ve heard from him other than his words.

Now, if you were smart and not just coming out of sleep, you’d recognise this as the threat it is but for some reason you had assumed he was only joking… something Bi-Han doesn’t do often. In one swift moment, the blanket is ripped from you and you are abruptly pulled halfway down the bed by your ankles. A small, shocked sound leaves you at the speed of which it all happens, the cold tickling your skin in a way that would have you complaining if you weren’t distracted.

Still, you make no move to roll over and give away that you are awake, and again, you have no idea why you’re committing to this so hard. Bi-Han grunts at you, “There is no way you’re asleep after that.” You don’t hear him but you feel his hand on your hip, “And don’t think I didn’t hear you just now.” The hand he has on you flips you onto your back easily.

He’s standing back and looking down at you, exasperated look on his face, his eyes boring into yours, he’s at a complete loss for why you did all this. Smiling sheepishly, you chirp up at him, “Good morning…”

He continues to look at you, sighing slightly. He looks good from this angle, the way he’s looking down at you, his chest, your thoughts are quickly heading in a suggestive direction.

The cold reminds you of its presence, pursing your lips, you ask him, “…Could I have my blanket back?”

His reply is monosyllabic, “No.”

“Well, that’s just not nice.” You go to lean up while grumbling about his unkindness but he pushes you back down, “Hey! What was that for? You’re the one who wanted me to get up.”

His head tilts to the side, “Yes but now I can’t help but enjoy this view.”

Raising a brow, you ask, “So, am I just meant to lay here while you get an eyeful?”

“Yes.”

You huff slightly as you move to get up again, “Bi-Han, don’t be…” your words trail off as he leans down at the same time as you get up, his face in front of your own.

He moves in more, asking, “‘Don’t be’ what?”

You can’t help but stumble over your words as you look up at him, “I… uhh… I don’t… know…”

He hums at you, amused, his eyes flick to your lips and for a brief moment you think he might kiss you. His lips close to yours “You need to get up,” he says it as he pulls away which makes you deflate.

You go to flop back onto the bed but he grabs both your arms and pulls you up until you’re standing on your feet, he sighs at you, “You really made me pull you out of bed.”

“Let me get back in it,” you struggle against his grip.

“Stop being dramatic,” he doesn’t let you go, knowing your first move would be to grab your blanket and curl back up in bed.

Lamenting, you whinge, “Why are you the one who had to come get me.”

“Oh?” he gives you a look, “Would you prefer someone else come get you?”

“No…” you deny, before adding “…But if I did… maybe someone who would be nicer to me…”

“Hmmm,” he considers you for a moment more, moving in closer to eye you carefully, “That’s too bad,” he murmurs before planting a soft, single kiss on your lips, “Since it’s just me who’s willing to enter your room this early,” his lips brush against yours with his words.

You want him to kiss you again but he doesn’t, “Now get ready for the day,” he pulls away completely and pats your head once, “And don’t get back in bed.” Then he walks away and out the door.

Today sucks, you don’t want to train, you don’t want to meditate, you don’t want to talk to people, you want to lay in bed and be warm and dramatic. Things have been stressful lately and you haven’t had time to just stop. Every day is the same thing and it’s exhausting, plus your brain is like mush at the moment.

This thing with Bi-Han… what happens after all of this? What are you expecting to happen… See? This is why you just want to get back into bed, none of your thoughts lately have been particularly inviting. You don’t want to think.

❆˖°

They fucking sidelined you, you were right, today sucks. You didn’t want to think… so, you didn’t. Instead going all in on training, focusing on nothing but pushing yourself and you guess, you freaked everyone out and got told to sit out for a bit.

Watching is boring and maybe you’re pouting as you watch the guys spar and maybe you’re sighing loudly every few minutes so they can hear you. If you weren’t an adult you’d maybe kick your feet about it all, you’ve been restless and not wanting to think and you get sidelined, now?

Honestly, you’re surprised they didn’t sideline you before yesterday, though you were just sucking then, now you seem like an insane person. This is worse than when you sprained your ankle, at least you couldn’t spar then, you can now and you’re still forced to just sit here and watch.

As you let out another melodramatic sigh, Johnny groans back at you with as much energy, exasperated by you, “What is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing,” you bristle, not appreciating the way he phrased that question.

“Yeah, that’s why you were on the verge of actually training yourself to death,” he leaves Kenshi and flops down onto his ass beside you, “Spill.”

Kenshi stands in front of you both, looking down at you with a single raised brow, you know what he’s asking.

Johnny verbalises what Kenshi was silently asking though, “You and Bi-Han make up yet?”

You side eye him, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, everyone knows you two are on the outs, hell, you stopped coming to group meals,” Johnny doesn’t even let you try and lie, clearly not interested in hearing what you’d come up with.

Grimacing, you note, “You’re all too interested in my personal life.”

Johnny shrugs, “Your own fault, you’re sleeping with the scariest brother and you also let your feelings overwhelm your actions.”

“Have more sympathy, Cage,” Kenshi kicks Johnny’s foot.

Johnny scoffs, “Don’t kick me.”

You interrupt before their argument can get too out of hand, “Okay, well you two have been very helpful, you can leave me alone now.”

“Hey, I am trying to help,” Johnny places his hand on your shoulder.

You place your hand over his, “You really wanna help?” He nods at you, and you continue, “Let me train.”

Both Kenshi and Johnny answer simultaneously, “No.” Look at that, they both agreed on something.

You groan loudly and dramatically, head tipping back with it, very unhappy. How are you meant to go through today if you can’t distract yourself? It gets a boring around here. A shadow looms over you as your head is tipped back and when you squint your eyes open, you see it’s Bi-Han.

Looking down at you, he asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

“They won’t let me train,” you immediately accuse.

He glances at Johnny and Kenshi and Johnny pokes your side, unhappy, “Nobody likes a snitch.” He looks at Bi-Han, “It’s for her own good, she was gonna hurt herself.”

Leaning over to Johnny, you repeat his words, “Nobody likes a snitch.” Ultimately though, you get up and face Bi-Han.

His expression is unreadable, his tone even, “Come with me.” It’s all he says before he’s walking off, expecting you to follow him.

You glance back at the guys, blaming them with your eyes. Johnny raises his arms in defence, “Your own fault.”

First, you flip him off before jogging to keep up with Bi-Han. He leads you to a private area of the grounds, you have a feeling you know what he’s going to say.

He turns back to you, his eyes looking you over carefully, “Are you okay?”

Okay… not quite what you were expecting. You were expecting him to scold you about taking care of yourself or something, not check in on you. “I’m fine,” you shrug dismissively.

His expression displays his doubt, knowing better, “You didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning and now you’re training so hard you’re worrying your friends. Something is wrong.”

“I’m just…” you sigh, annoyed with yourself, “I’m just having a bad day Bi-Han… I have so many questions I want to ask you, I have so many concerns over the future, I have so many thoughts and feelings and they’re frustrating me all, so I just wanted to… not think… for a little bit.”

He doesn’t move, “Ask.”

“What?”

He clarifies, “Ask your questions, I will do my best to answer and that should help, right?”

You intake a deep breath and begin asking your questions, “When you said you’re somewhat mad, how mad? Do you need time? Should I try and make it up to you? If so, how do I do that? Also, am I allowed to touch you? Or do I have to ask first? Are you going to resent me later? After everything here is finished and things go back to normal… are we just not going to see each other anymore? Would–”

“–Calm down.” His hands reach out to you, one soothes over your head, the other pulling you towards him, “You’re working yourself up,” he observes, forehead resting against yours, “Take some deep breaths.”

You listen to him and try to calm your breathing, not realising how worked up you had got yourself. Your rapid-fire questions making you anxious and fidgety.

“Now,” he pulls his head back but grabs hold of your hand, letting you know he’s still nearby, “I am still somewhat mad because it’s still fresh but I don’t resent you and I’m not going to. You don’t have to do anything to make it up to me and I don’t need time. I’ve had enough time; I just want you.”

You’re still trying to calm down, heart pounding in your chest though you have a feeling that’s starting to have more to do with him answering your questions. He continues replying to what he remembers, “You don’t have to ask to touch me, though watching you struggle has been mildly amusing.”

You scowl at him for that and he smiles tenderly at it, his hand moving to cradle your face. Opening your mouth, you go to scold him but he shushes you, “Quiet, I’m not done answering yet.”

He continues, “I don’t know what normal is to you, but this is not abnormal to me, I don’t know what will happen and nothing is guaranteed.” It’s not lost on you that those last few words are your own mirrored back at you, “But don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re still going to see each other, sweet girl.”

And maybe it’s his assurances or maybe it’s the fact he finally used that term of endearment on you again but your eyes well with tears and you tuck your head into his chest. Seeking comfort in his embrace, not for the first time and certainly not for the last either. He holds you close to him, to his heart, feeling more like himself than he has in a while.

He holds you until you stop crying, his hands soothing over you. When you’ve finally calmed down, you reach up and pull his face to yours, kissing him gently, lips brushing his, “Will you stay with me tonight… please?”

He laughs airily against you, “How can I say no to that?”

He can feel the way you smile before you pull back, “Good.” You linger a moment more, “I should get back… but, thank you… for being patient.”

You jog back off towards where you were training, feeling a touch lighter. Maybe things are still a little uncertain and maybe you’re still a little scared about how much you’re feeling but you’re not alone and remembering that helps.

❆˖°

Waiting is hard, it shouldn’t be, in fact most people would probably find waiting easy but it’s frustrating to you. While waiting for Bi-Han, you have tidied your room and made your bed, you had left it this morning. Now you’re just stuck waiting for Bi-Han to come by but this is getting old fast, you can’t relax enough to read or do any other kind of activity to distract yourself. So, you do the most reasonable thing… and put on your robe and leave your room to wander around aimlessly.

You don’t get very far before spotting Bi-Han while you’re out, he gives you a look that lets you know you’ve been caught but you turn tail and run back for your room in hopes you can get there before him and play it off like it wasn’t you he just saw.

When you’re back in your room, you grab the book off your nightstand and sit on the bed, trying to look as casual as possible. Opening the book to the place you left off; you pretend to be very interested in what’s happening. You jump when Bi-Han slides your room door open and closed behind him but you don’t look to him.

He’s stoic, still, arms crossed and waiting for you to acknowledge him. You pretend to finish your page and flick to the next, he lets out an amused exhale through his nose and takes the book from you.

“I was reading that,” you complain.

He takes your bookmark from you as well and places it inside the book, but not before flicking back a page, “Maybe… but not just now you weren’t.” He puts the book down on the table.

Frowning, you lie, “Yeah I was.”

“Really,” he raises a brow at you, “Then who was the sexy, little thing I saw running around outside in your robe?” He looks pointedly at the robe you didn’t take off before getting on the bed.

You squint at him, “I think it’s messed up that you would ask me that.”

“So, it wasn’t you? Should I go and try and find out who that was then?” His thumb points back over his shoulder, gesturing at the outside.

Grumbling, you admit all too easily, “It was me.”

“Obviously,” he rolls his eyes, “What did I tell you about going out in so little?”

You look upwards in thought, “Uhh… that it’s a great idea and I should do it more to embrace the beauty of the cold?”

“I remember saying something entirely different,” he hums, “Something more along the lines of – don’t do it.”

“Our signals must’ve gotten crossed, it happens,” you shake your head.

His hands flick at you, asking to give him room. “I’m so sure,” he mumbles as you move over to make space for him, “What were you even going out for?” He asks as he sits down beside you.

You sit up properly and face him, “I was bored of waiting… was gonna wander around for a bit.”

His back is resting on the headboard, arms forever crossed, “And your plan if you ran into me was to run away? Even though you knew I was staying with you tonight.”

Rubbing at the back of your head, you give a flimsy excuse, “Okay well, I wasn’t really sure when to expect you and I feel like I waited a respectable amount of time before… wandering.”

He scratches at the side of his cheek, “You’re not very capable of just sitting still.”

“I am too,” you pout at him.

Shaking his head, he says, “I wasn’t asking, I was making an observation.”

You only frown at him in response.

He sighs at you, “Ah, don’t sulk about it–”

“–I sit still for hours at a time meditating,” you remind. “I can sit still.”

“Then next time, just wait for me.” His hands reach out for you, “Instead of walking around in the cold.”

You let yourself be pulled into him, falling easily against his chest. “Next time, you should be quicker,” your words are mumbled against him. Both your hands press against his chest to push yourself back, “I feel weird Bi-Han.”

He hums at you in acknowledgement, “Weird how?”

“I can’t help but still feel a little unsure of us now…” Your eyebrows must be scrunching because he does the same move to you that you do to him and smooths between them with his thumb, “…I think it might be guilt.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” he looks you over carefully, “I want you to be the same as you always are. Stubborn and sure.”

You chuckle, “That’s what you think of me?”

“I think many things of you, I very seldom am not thinking something of you,” his hand cups your cheek, “I think you are brilliant and I want to be witness to it,” his thumb brushes over your lip, “So, stop feeling guilty, I can’t witness your brilliance if you’re hiding it from me.”

He manoeuvres you to straddle him properly and then kisses you deeply, his tongue licking into your mouth. His hand angling you so he can kiss you how he likes, it’s hot and messy, and you’re getting lost in it. When he separates the kiss, he trails his lips down your cheek, to your neck, kissing and nibbling at your skin.

He speaks against you, voice low, “Conversely, I could always fuck the guilt out of you.”

You gasp at his words, not entirely expecting them, “Not sure that would work.”

“I could always try,” he latches onto your neck, where it meets your shoulder and sucks hard. Leaving a dark mark behind, “Shouldn’t have avoided me for so long, all my marks have faded.”

Huffing, your hands reach for his shoulders, fisting his clothing, “You can’t possibly expect me to always be covered in hickeys.”

He questions, “No?”

“No,” you confirm, head slipping back, offering him more room to work.

His voice vibrates through your skin, “Maybe you shouldn’t be so willing to receive them then.”

“M-maybe you’re right,” your words falter when he nips at a particularly tender part of your neck, knowing you too well.

His hands slip under your shirt, caressing your skin, big hands splayed under your breasts, resting on your ribcage. He’s kissing you again, desperately, properly, no longer interested in teasing you with fleeting and soft kisses. He wants it all and he wants it now.

Your tongue meets his and your heart stutters in your chest, he groans against you when you grind down into him. Mind half gone and attention on his mouth, on his hands, barely registering your own movements.

His hands on you round to your back, tugging you into him, your chest meeting his. Your arms loop around his neck, holding him close, your breaths huffed and lips rushed on his. Your lips part and he holds you as he moves up, laying you gently against the mattress and hovering over you, your heads at the wrong end of the bed.

Untangling from you, he grabs at your hips and pulls your pants and underwear off in one motion. They’re chucked unceremoniously on the floor somewhere, not of any concern to you or Bi-Han. Right now, Bi-Han looks beautiful like this, eyes glazing slightly, focused on a million things at once but arriving at the same conclusion.

He’s back at your neck and trailing down, shoving your shirt up your body, lips moving to your exposed skin and continuing his descent. It’s making you nervous, “Bi-Han, you don’t have to…”

His forehead rests on your ribcage, stopping at your hesitance, “‘I don’t have to’, what?” When you don’t respond to him, he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I’ve not had you in a week and now you’re telling me I don’t have to put my mouth on you? This isn’t just for you, sweet girl.”

You feel shy, “I just thought…”

He’s not entertaining your line of thinking, telling you like it is, “You thought wrong.” He leans back into your skin, kissing you softly, continuing downwards, “Can I lick your pussy now? Or are you going to make me say please.”

God, you bristle at his words, his deep voice, it’s making your pulse thump deliciously, “Ahh,” you can’t stop the gasp you let out when he kisses the top of your thigh, “A p-please would be nice.”

His stupid eyebrow raises at you, “Would it now?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head warily.

He clicks his tongue, “You want me to beg to taste you, to put my mouth on you?”

He’s flustering you, he’s so close to your cunt, he could lean in and easily put his mouth on you like this and you wouldn’t even be mad.

Before you can reply, he speaks again, “Please let me tongue fuck you.” His words are gruff, unamused.

You’re so shocked, all you can manage is a meek, “Okay.”

“Hope you know, you’ll be paying for that later…” You don’t even really register his threat because he immediately follows it up with, “Look at you,” his thumb swipes through your folds, collecting your slick and spreading it even more, “All worked up, you like when I ask please, when I’m nice?”

“Bi-Han,” your stomach does flips when he rests the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Missed this sight,” he ignores the call of his name, distracted by how wet you are for him, how you clench pathetically around nothing.

You go to call out to him again, get him to move his thumb, touch you properly, something but he’s beaten you to the punch and is licking up the length of your cunt. The moan you let out is not one you expected and your hand moves to cover your mouth, the sound shocking you. It was far too desperate for how little he’s touched you. He hums appreciatively though, relishing in the sound made.

If he were willing to part from you, he’d tell you to move that fucking hand but his mouth is somewhat indisposed at the moment. He can manage however, a sharp glare at you and your hand, a wordless interaction you understand, uncovering your mouth tentatively, like you’re scared you might make that same noise again.

It’s wet and sloppy and he’s making an obscene mess of you, his mouth moving from sucking on your clit to fucking his tongue inside you. Taking his time to practically make out with your cunt, leaning into it more so his nose rubs against your clit. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs try to close around his head.

Surprisingly, he lets you, his hands hold the outside of your thighs, resting there. His face pushing down to continue to get at you like this but he lets you smother him with your thighs. He moves his thumbs to keep your folds parted, needing more access. The obscene clicking noises of his tongue in your slick pussy would make the devil blush.

The moans and whimpers you’re letting out are no better, fingers scrabbling to find purchase somewhere. Settling for the sheets in the end, not wanting to move Bi-Han, not when he’s hitting all the right places, you’re getting close embarrassingly quick.

Something he’s completely aware of, not stopping for a moment, he’s feasting on you like he might never again and after this week he’d say that was a genuine concern for a moment. As much as he loves having your thighs either side his head, he really needs better access. His hands force your legs apart again, pinning them apart and up.

The sound you let out is wrecked and he can’t help but groan alongside it, enjoying your reactions immensely. Some things never change and one of those things seems to be just how fucking reactive you are to him. Always so sensitive, so easy to rile up, so messy. If he weren’t slurping at your cunt he’d definitely say something about it to you.

Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, slipping inside you carefully, stretching you open. The way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers in has him moaning brokenly into you, muffled. If he were a weaker man, this might kill him. He can feel the way you’re pulsing around his fingers, your hips frantically trying to rut down against him, getting close.

Nails claw at the sheets, you’re not sure if you want to rut down into him and chase your high or pull away. Feeling completely overwhelmed by everything he’s doing right now. His lips suck at your clit, his fingers large inside you, curling just right. Your stomach flips and your cunt clenches down on him.

It startles you, how quickly you cum, you hadn’t even realised it until it was too late, not able to give a warning. The only sign given is the harsh grip your pussy has on his fingers and your moan as your thighs shake. Cum leaking from you and coating Bi-Han’s fingers, he doesn’t let up. Fucking you through your high, flicking at your clit just to watch you twitch.

It’s too much, you whine and try to wiggle away from him, that’s when he relents. Slipping his fingers from you and into his mouth, sucking them clean before wiping them on your inner thigh. He plants sloppy kisses up your body, stopping and hovering at your cheek, your head turned to the side.

You feel lazy when you pull your head back to face him, eyes wet and unfocused, completely docile for him after only one orgasm. He huffs an amused breath against your lips, “You good, sweetie? Or–”

“–Mhm, I’m good, I can keep going… I can take it.”

“I know you can,” he presses a light kiss to your temple, “Take this off,” he pulls at your shirt and robe.

He leaves you on the bed. Absently, you can hear him rustling just to the side of you and you’d stare at him shamelessly if undressing completely didn’t require your full attention right now. You shirk your robe off your shoulders and toss it somewhere, your shirt promptly follows, though embarrassingly, it’s harder to get off.

You flop back onto your spot on the bed, the thought to move so you’re on the bed the right way crosses in the back of your mind but you don’t really see the point. The bed dips with Bi-Han’s weight and your hands instinctually reach out for him.

He lets you pull him down into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug all of him close, he breathes against your neck when you’ve successfully got him pressed up against you completely.

“You just want to cuddle?” He’s being genuine, nosing at the high point of your cheek.

You make a noise of disagreement, “Just want you close.”

His words are crude, “So, I can stick my dick inside you?”

You whine at him, “Is there not a nicer way to say that?”

“I’ve found,” he presses his hips into you so his cock spreads your folds, grinding into you, getting his dick wet, “It’s quicker to be straightforward.”

Your mouth drops open when he grazes your sensitive clit, “You –hah– You sure you don’t just like embarrassing me?”

Humming, he muses, “I won’t lie, that’s a big bonus.”

“Can –ngh– you just–” You’re cut off by a sharp gasp, lungs shuddering at the glide of his heavy cock against your cunt.

“Mmm?” He’s teasing, “I’m sure I could but you need to use your words.”

Your head tips slightly, feeling like a moan is going to leave you at any second, “Bi-Han, fffuck me, please.”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that,” his tone is full of humour.

Parting from you, he puts enough space between you to guide his cock to your entrance. Careful as he begins pushing into you, the stretch makes you hiss through your teeth. He’s somehow bigger than you remember, he’s going to split you in half.

“Breathe,” his voice reminds, “You’ve taken it before.”

You let go of the breath you didn’t realise you were holding, focusing on relaxing for him, “I don’t –hah– I forgot howw big–” He slides into you more while you’re talking and your sentence is cut off with a moan.

“Only a week and you’re already forgetting how well you take me?” He’s starting to sound strained, “Feel a little offended.”

“Just,” the stretch is less painful and more delicious, he’s filling you so well and you need, “More, Bi-Han.”

He’s taking it slow, always so careful, “Changed your tune pretty quick there.”

“Don’t –mmph– don’t tease,” you whinge.

He groans as he sinks deeper, “But you look so –hah– cute when I do.”

You feel full, the pressure increasing, tip of his cock grazing all the right spots. You feel like you could melt into the mattress, your legs are tangled at the bottom of his back and you use them to tug him down to you. He falters and almost falls onto you, hand coming out to balance his weight above you.

“You want it that –mph– fuckin bad?” His words are bitten back, “Take it then,” he grunts before slamming the rest of his dick inside you all at once.

Oh, how your eyes roll, choked noise clawing up your throat at the sudden feeling of having every inch of him weighing heavy inside you. Reaching up, your nails claw desperately at his back.

“Oh my– oh– ah– I can’t– ffffuck,” you’re not making sense, not really, overwhelmed by how good it feels, how deep he sits.

He chuckles darkly at your state, staying still for a moment, giving you a second to just feel all of him. And then, when he thinks you’re adjusting and coming to some sense of normalcy, he draws back and fucks his cock back inside you. The shift has more stupid series of words slipping from you, which he finds as amusing and endearing as he did the first time he managed to reduce you to this state.

He leans down into you again, acquiescing when your hands keep pulling and tugging at him, wanting to feel his skin on yours. He’s so large and so safe and feels so–

His hips are slow, slow for him anyways, thrusts even and measured but not relentlessly fucking you into the mattress. There is a weight behind them though, the kind that has pressure sitting heavy in your lungs. Every time he bottoms out, you can’t help the pitiful sounds you make, you tuck your head into his neck, hoping to hide from the noises you’re making but they don’t go anywhere.

If anything, this is worse, Bi-Han’s lips are right at your ear, brushing the shell of it, “You hear that?” He asks, pausing so you can hear the lewd, sloppy noises your pussy makes as he fucks into you, “The wet fucking sounds of you taking me so well.”

You’re so embarrassed, “Bi-Han–”

A particularly harsh thrust cuts off what would’ve been a complaint and turns it into a weak moan, the pace he set is maddening, “I’m being gentle with you, sweetie, what you wanted.”

Is it what you wanted? Did you ask for gentle, you think distantly you remember a conversation about him being gentle with you but you’re pretty sure you had said you didn’t want that in fear of this very situation. He’s being ‘gentle’ but he’s getting you so close to the edge and just – not pushing you off it, holding you there. It’s torture, it’s punishment, he’s mad at you, you could swear by it.

You ask as much, “Ah– are you mad at mme?”

“How could I be mad when you feel this good?” He grinds down into you, as if to emphasise his point.

You’re a dream to him, fucked and whimpering, tight as sin, and stumbling over yourself to say something only to end up calling his name and worthless pleas. He’ll give you what you want, when he’s ready. For now, he’s going to tease you and hold you right on the edge of finishing before taking it away from you. Maybe because he’s mean, maybe because he likes the glassy look in your eyes that makes it look like you might cry.

His hips speed up slightly and it’s just what you need, getting so so close to cumming. You’re clinging to him for dear life but just when you think you might get to cum, he pins you to the bed with his hips, stilling inside you. He can feel the way you throb around him, so close for him before he ripped it away from you.

You try grinding up into him, “Why– Why– Why stop?”

He looks you in the eyes, hand soft on your cheek, tilting you to look at him properly, your eyes are so out of focus, “Wanted to see your reaction.”

“Please.”

He knows what you want but he asks anyway, “Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me,” you were so close, so close.

“I am,” he reminds, hips pulling back to fuck into you again.

You bite back a moan as best as you can, “Ah– Then– then don’t stoppp –mmph–”

“Maybe,” he makes no promises, pressing a kiss to your lips.

The pace drags, every inch of him, pulled from you slowly, before he’s shoving himself right back inside your wet heat. It takes an amazing amount of control on Bi-Han’s behalf, to fuck you like this, torturing you. Building up your orgasm slowly, crafting it carefully.

Mostly, he’s just lost, lost in your pussy, maybe he’s pussy drunk, but then if he were, would he be holding onto this much control still? In love with how you grip him, with how you twitch and spasm and whine and claw at him but not enough to fuck you into the mattress with reckless abandon.

He’s so cruel, just so mean, oh but when he gets you this close to cumming again he doesn’t feel mean, he feels good and nice and you just need him to not stop, “Bi-Han, please, I–” “–Already?” He hums but his hips stop again, pinning you again, taking away your high again.

“No no no nonono,” you squirm slightly, “You said you wouldn’t stop again,” you’re looking at him through your lashes, they’re wet, have you been crying?

He shakes his head, denying it, “I said maybe.”

“Bi-Han, this time, please, you need to let me cum,” you’re looking at him so seriously.

He nods his head this time, as if understanding suddenly, “Oh, I need to, well why didn’t you say so?”

You pout at him, “I will do anything, please.”

He asks, “Anything?” You nod vehemently at him and he leans closer to you, “All you need to do is take it.”

You want to tell him how mean he is, how unkind he’s being but you don’t want to motivate him to be any meaner to you, “I might die.”

“Hmm, interesting, let’s see,” and then he’s drawing back and setting that same maddening rhythm again, the one that makes your skin itch and your pussy ache.

He does this to you, a handful of times more, getting you close to the edge, dragging you there slowly, meticulously, only to stop and let you twitch and squirm and cry under him. Every time you beg him to just let you cum, let you finish, but he’s taking sick pleasure in how fucked out and pathetic you’re getting.

All gooey eyed and messy for him, fuck so messy, he tells you as much, “Making such a wet mess, sweet girl, listen to that,” he pauses his word and fucks into you quickly just so you can hear how your cunt squelches around him and you’re going to pass out.

You’re only really capable of broken syllables of his name and weak whimpers, you’re getting close again but you’re so sure he’s going to stop, you’re ready for him to stop. He doesn’t, he picks up speed, fucking you quicker, harder, the obscene noises of him fucking you almost drowning out your moans.

He groans at how impossibly tight you get, he’s not going to stop, not this time, not when he’s so fucking close too. Getting sick of this game, he’s got the patience to play with you for long enough that you’ll go crazy but after that all bets are off.

Your back arches up into him and your nails scratch at his biceps and down his back, your head tucking back into his neck. You’re clenching down on him so tight, pressure in your stomach tightening, and a particularly sharp thrust where his pelvis hits your clit just right has you cumming apart under him, around him.

You’re trying to milk his cock and it’s setting his skin on fire; he bites into your neck as he cums at the same time as you. Not able to hold back his noises but able to at least muffle them into your skin. You’re shuddering under him, panting harshly, pussy jumping around his dick.

He’s cum so much it leaks out around the base of him and down from where he’s still seated deep inside you. He detaches from your neck and lathes over the bite mark he left behind with his tongue, feeling bad for how prominent it’s going to be. Though, not feeling all that bad about how long it will linger for.

“Thank you, thank you,” you’re murmuring it over and over into his skin and he doesn’t know if you realise it or not. He presses kisses to your lips, stopping you from talking.

You could almost swear that you’re not in your body, you’re floating somewhere above it, feeling like you came so hard you might’ve blacked out for a couple seconds. Suddenly, you’re spinning, Bi-Han has flipped you both so he’s on his back and you’re on top of him.

Neither of you are willing to move for the moment, so you just lay pressed up again him, relishing in the skin-to-skin contact. Always enjoying when he’s this close to you, you’re not even sure you’re capable of a coherent thought right now that doesn’t start and end with Bi-Han.

Eventually, you regain enough awareness to say, “I need a shower.”

“Give me ten more minutes and we can shower,” his hand runs down your back.

“Mmkay,” your lips ghost his neck and he shudders.

For those ten minutes he has asked for, he kisses you, deeply, sweetly, reverently. He holds you tenderly and kisses you like he worships the ground you walk on, like you’re incapable of doing anything wrong ever. And you kiss him back in kind, feeling like you don’t mind how scary it is to watch yourself fall in love with someone.

When he does get up, he’s careful with you, carrying you to the shower and washing your body, his fingers digging into some muscles as he goes, massaging you. Of course, he’s a little too focused on how his cum leaks from you when you’re standing upright, hesitant to wash it away but knowing you’d chew him out if he didn’t.

While standing in front of the bed, you feel heavy, achy, he’s washed and dried you, even helping you redress in clean pyjamas. He always takes such good care of you after he fucks you within an inch of your life.

Your eyes look at the wet stain left on the bed and you feel icky, “That’s so embarrassing…”

Bi-Han tracks your eyeline, also clean and redressed beside you, “Really? I’m quite proud.”

You hide your head in your hands, “You say… the worst things.”

Ignoring your words, he asks, “Want me to change the sheets?”

Peaking at him through your fingers, you smile at him, “Okay, sometimes you say really great things.”

He huffs, amused, but changes the sheets for you and when it’s fresh and clean, he pulls you into the bed and holds you close. You feel so warm and fuzzy and light and you want to stay with him forever, you want to stay just like this forever.

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[angelatmidnight1]

Could I request a Karlach x Tav reader? Where Karlach accidentally discovers Tav who normally acts tough is actually embarrassingly ticklish?

Put 'Em Up

Fandom- Baldur's Gate 3.

Pairing- Karlach Cliffgate x Reader (lee!reader, ler!Karlach, tiny bit of lee!Karlach at the end). Reader puts on a tough personality and is strong like Karlach. Reader and Karlach are also in a romantic relationship.

Word Count- 2,216.

Warnings- None really, besides tickling and swearing.

Karlach asked to train with you, but she isn’t taking it very seriously. Instead, she uses it as an opportunity to flirt and get closer to you. You try to stay focused, but she accidentally finds out that you’re ticklish. It’s going to be a long match..

“Alright, babe. Hit me with your best shot.”

Karlach circled you with a bright grin, fists up. The two of you were training, and she was only too excited to tussle with you. Sure, she knew how important training was to you, but she’d take any excuse to get closer to you. You sized her up and hummed.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You took a swipe at her when she got too close, and she parried your blow. Karlach huffed.

“I should be saying that to you,” she chuckled. “But fine, just know that just because you’re playing nice doesn’t mean that I will.”

You smirked. You and Karlach were still early in your relationship, and there was a lot that she didn’t know about you. Although she was much taller and muscular than you, you could hold your own in a fight. In fact, you were known for your fighting prowess in Baldur’s Gate. You didn’t buy into the hype; you could rarely tolerate the company of others. But, Karlach was the exception. And she was in for one hell of a surprise. 

“Damn, you’re strong.” 

Karlach grunted as you pinned her on her back. Both of you were out of breath from wrestling each other. It wasn’t easy to get her down, but you managed. You straddled her waist and had her arms pinned above her head. “Way stronger than I thought..”

“I know,” You forced her arms back down when she tried to pull away. “I've flattened more people than I can count in Baldur’s Gate.”

Karlach breathed out a laugh. “At least you’re modest about it, huh?” She continued fidgeting in your grip, making it harder for you to keep her down. “I’ll be honest, I can’t remember the last time anyone’s pinned me. Usually it’s the other way around, heh. But, I could get used to this…”

The tiefling gave you a cheeky grin. One that made you exhale slowly through your nose. 

“Karlach,” Your cheeks flushed slightly. “Don’t start.”

“Ooo, bossing me around now?” Karlach’s grin widened, and her engine glowed.  “That’s hot..”

You shook your head, your blush darkening. “Shut up.” 

Karlach craned her head up to you with a challenging smirk. “You gonna make me?”

You stared at her, flustered, but you didn’t back down. Instead, you met her halfway and kissed her lips deeply. She hummed in surprise and happily returned the kiss. Her lips were warm, soft, and familiar. You got lost in that kiss. And, she had the opportunity to flip your positions. 

When your back hit the ground, you grunted softly. Karlach pinned your wrists by your sides and gave you a triumphant grin. 

“Gotcha.”

You groaned. “I should’ve known you would cheat.”

“Hey, all’s fair in love and war! And, I uh, really love you.” Karlach’s voice softened as she gazed down at you. “A lot.”

“I love you too.” The love she expressed to you was still overwhelming. Not in a negative sense, but it still felt a bit foreign to you. Before the nautolid, you were content to spend your days alone. Now, you weren’t sure what you’d do without Karlach’s bright presence, even if you didn’t express it. You ended the tender moment by adding, “Now let me up so I can kick your ass.”

Karlach threw her head back with a laugh. “I don’t think so. Maybe I like you here, with me on top.” She shot back, wiggling her eyebrows. You bit back a smile, giving her your best stern look. 

“We’re supposed to be training,” Your voice came out strained as you tugged against her grip. Your arms moved a couple of inches, but Karlach held on tighter, now using much more of her strength. “Not goofing off.”

“I know, but who says we can’t have a little fun too?” Karlach leaned down towards you. You leered at her. “Don’t give me that look, (Y/N). Gimme a smile.”

She kissed your cheek. Your forehead. Your nose. Your other cheek. You wiggled your head as she attacked your face with kisses, unable to stop your smile.

“Thihis isn’t training!” You protested. You continued squeaking and struggling until she moved the kisses to your neck. The kisses got sloppier, and each one ended with a loud ‘mwah’. You shivered and inadvertently squealed when her lips found a ticklish spot.

Karlach froze. There was a curious glint in her fiery eyes. 

“What was that?”

“Er, nothing.”

“Nothing? Are you sure?” A worried look came over Karlach’s features. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.” Your cheeks flushed again, but this time for a different reason. One of your closely guarded secrets was how ticklish you were. And it was for a good reason; you, alongside Karlach, were the muscle of your party. It was often said that you learned how to fight before you could walk. Any enemy that wasn’t afraid of you changed their tune when they saw the thrashing you’d given their friends. You didn’t want anyone to know that you could be taken down by something as embarrassing and childish as tickling. 

With a deep breath, you pulled down hard against Karlach’s grasp, freeing your wrists. Your feet found purchase on the ground and you sat up. You parried her attempts to grab and re-pin you and, after minutes of back and forth grappling, Karlach suddenly hoisted you in the air. Her claws dug into your sides with enough pressure to tickle, and you inadvertently wheezed. Karlach froze again and turned you around in her arms so that you faced her. 

“Am I tickling you?” The curious glint in her eyes turned playful as she held you in the air. Your heartbeat quickened as you stared back at her. 

“No, you aren’t. You’re just squeezing a bit hahard—” A slight giggle escaped you, and you coughed to mask it. Karlach held you in a gentler grip, giving your sides a much softer squeeze. You gasped, “P-Put me down..”

“I don’t know,” Karlach obliged by setting you back on the ground. But she kept her hands on your sides, squeezing just below your rib cage. You batted her hands away with another concealed giggle. “That sounded like a laugh to me.”

“It wasn’t!” You held one arm closer to your torso protectively and resumed your fighting stance. “Enough talk, let’s keep at it.” 

“Right, sure.” Karlach chuckled. There was something about her tone and the way she now sized you up that made you feel wary. But, you pushed the feeling away, charging her and initiating another grappling session.

Instead of responding how you thought she would, where maybe she’d drag you back to the ground or pick you up again, her hands ended up on your torso again. She gripped your hips, squeezing and prodding them, and you choked back more laughter. 

“Whahat the hell ahare you doing?” You grabbed her wrists, fighting with her grip, but she didn’t let up. Your laughter was getting harder to hold back. You accidentally stumbled backwards during your attempt to free yourself from her grasp. Karlach happily followed you down. 

“Not ticklish my ass, you’re laughing!” She accused, poking randomly along your torso. You frantically grabbed at her wrists and grit your teeth. 

“Noho I’m not!” You arched your back when she prodded at your belly, squealing again. “Stop thahat!”

“Then why’re you laughing, huh? What’s so funny?” Grinning, Karlach straddled your waist, trapping your flailing arms at your sides. Her hands descended onto your ribs and she scritched up and down the bones. You bit your lips to halt your impending giggle fit. 

“N-Nohot laughing…” You gasped, trying to tug your arms free. Now, Karlach was utilizing her full strength on you, and she was determined to keep you down. You arched your back when her hands scampered back down your sides. She alternated between poking and squeezing and you pinched your eyes shut. It tickled so badly, but you were determined to hold out. Your partner’s giddy, teasing voice echoed in your ears. 

“(Y/N), baby, I know you wanna laugh..” Karlach smirked. She pinched your hips again, kneading them, and you wheezed. She giggled. “Better admit it before I really start tickling you.”

You tried to ignore her, your feet drumming against the ground as she kept tickling. A silly grin spread across your face. She clawed at your belly again, and the dam finally broke. 

You tossed your head back, giving in to your loud, wheezing laughter. “FUHUAHA! KAhaharlach, stahahahp!”

Karlach’s eyes brightened. “Oho, I knew it!” She cheered. She drilled her thumbs into the sides of your belly, and you wheezed again. 

You were laughing too hard to answer her. You shook your head back and forth as you fell into a deeper pit of laughter. Eventually, you were able to give her a minimal response.  “FAHahahaha offhahaha! Gehehehet off of mehehehehehe!”

“Mm, maybe later,” she snickered. She eased off your stomach and pulled your arms above your head with one hand. You tried to yank your arms free before she could fully pin them, but she moved fast, and your squealing fell flat. She wriggled her claws at you tauntingly. “All this time, and I had no idea you were ticklish!”

“Youhuhu wehehehren’t suhuhposed tohohoho!” You fired back, still giggling from the previous attack. You watched her claws and squirmed under her. “Dohohn’t you dare! Let me up!”

“Oh, I dare, soldier,” Karlach chuckled. She hovered her hand just inches away from your torso. “Besides, I still got a match to win here.”

Again, you shook your head. You were nothing if not stubborn. “Karlach,” you started warily. “Let me up. This isn’t what wehehehe agreehehed toohoo-”

Karlach alternated pokes between your sides, earning yelps and squealing giggles. “Say uncle!”

You squealed louder as she suddenly reached up and scribbled into your underarms. You tugged at your arms with all of your strength, but they didn’t budge. You made a poor attempt to hold back the giggle fit that overtook you. 

“Kahahaharlahahach!” You whined, giggling harder when she increased her efforts. “Nohohoho tickling! Youhuhuhu chehehater!”

“Say uncle,” she repeated, smiling widely. Your underarms didn’t seem all that ticklish, so she went back to your torso. Your giggling turned frantic, and when she poked into your tummy, you wheezed. Her tail wagged behind her as she did it again, again, and again. 

“NOHOHO-” You snorted, which amused Karlach even further. She switched from poking to kneading her thumbs into the sides of your stomach. You laughed loudly and bucked your hips. 

“Damn, no wonder you were able to pin me,” Karlach was saying as she squeezed and scritched over your tummy. “You’ve got all this muscle!” She added to her comment by kneading her thumbs back into your skin, which earned her another wheeze. You blushed deeply.

“NOHOHOT FUHUHUNNY!” 

Karlach snorted. “I’m serious! You’re the whole package: strong, smart, attractive. Oh, and adorable. Heh. It’s a miracle my engine hasn’t given out sooner ‘cause of you.” She slowed down the tickling, stroking her claws just above your belly button. Your laughter died down to heavy giggles, and you were able to catch your breath. “I’m still waiting on that ‘uncle’ by the way.”

You didn’t plan on giving it to her; you were nothing if not stubborn. During her tickle attack, she’d eased up on her grip on your arms. You were tired, but your tenacity gave you just enough energy to pull yourself free from her hold. What you did next was out of your norm, but as far as you were concerned, it was completely warranted. 

“You wanna play like that, huh?” You threw yourself at her, sending both of you crashing on the ground. It was harder to get her pinned down like you did earlier. But, once your fingers dug into her sides, Karlach burst into loud laughter. 

“It wahahahahs wohohohohrth ihihihihit!” Karlach squealed and bucked her hips as your hands darted all over her torso. She was hot to the touch, but it didn’t burn, and you were gonna have your revenge. Soon enough though, Karlach was able to reverse your positions again, aiming straight for your belly. She held you in her arms this time, and she didn’t let up. She buried her head into the crook of your neck, kissing and nuzzling into your skin, and you finally tapped out.

“ALRIHIHGHT! Okay! Uncle!” 

The tickling stopped and you laid your head back to catch your breath. Karlach held you flush against her chest. The sparring session was a workout for her too, and she was almost as breathless as you were.

“That was fun,” Karlach said after a while, chuckling. “We’ve gotta do this sparring thing more often. I haven’t had that much fun in, well, ever.” 

“I don’t think our enemies would expect us to tickle them, Karlach.” You answered, shaking your head affectionately. There was a small part of you that wanted to be angry at a sparring session turned tickle fight, but it was difficult for you to be angry with her. “You, on the other hand, are in for it once I catch my breath.”

Karlach grinned, and you could feel her engine glow behind you. “Bring it on, (Y/N)."

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to post, but I hope you like the story!

[weirdo-fun]

What Else Can I Do?

Azriel x Reader - Chapter 3

So sorry this chapter took so long to come out. Writer's block sucks! Fair warning, I finished this up late at night so there will be grammer errors.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Summary: Reader ends up getting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.

Word Count: 2.7 K

Warnings: Banter, bickering, fem! reader, "girls just want to have fun~"

Author's Note: I have another Azriel x Reader fic in the works which will be published soon after the last chapter of this fic so let me know in the comments if you want me to tag you in all future Azriel fics that I will write. Hint: this next one is about stars and an ethernal being; and this fic may or may not be heavely inspired by a song from Over The Moon on Netflix. :)

“Hurry up!” You call out to Elain as you run up a large curved tree branch filled with soft moss and flowers growing from the branch that you grew just a few moments before. 

“I’m coming!” Elain says as she runs up after you, while holding her skirt up so she doesn’t trip. Her hair, face, and clothes are dirty with different colored powder. She comes up next to you and she looks down. Her eyes widen as she quickly takes a step back, “Woah, no no no no. I am not jumping.” 

You look at Elain and give her a comforting smile, “It will be ok. I put large flowers to cushion our fall. The flowers are soft and will break our fall. It’s like cliff jumping, except for water we are landing on flowers.” 

Elain looks at you with concern in her eyes. “I-I don’t know if I can do it. I know I said I wanted to do it, but now- looking at the height.” Elain isn’t able to finish her sentence. Her body instinctively takes a couple more steps back, her breathing starting to come and out in short breaths. 

You quickly stand in front of her and grab her slightly shaking hands and hold it in yours. “Hey hey hey, it’s ok.” You softly say in a comforting tone to calm your friend down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. We don’t have to do it, we can slide down like we did before this.” You soften your eyes at her. She looks at you for a few seconds, contemplating. She shakes her head and breaths out a deep breath, she lifts her chin up and hardens her face with confidence. “No. I will not take the easy way out. You said it yourself, that I need to come out of my shell and actually do things that I want.” 

Your eyes widen in slight surprise for a second and then soften to a proud look on your face. You smile at her and grab her hand and lead her to where the tree beach ends. You guys stand on the edge looking down at the huge pile of colorful flowers and giant flower petals ready to catch them. You look at Elain for confirmation. That she was ready and that she wanted to jump with you. She nods her head and gives you a reassuring smile. The bright smile on your face could not be contained. 

“On the count of three. One. Two. Three!” You shout and both of you jump. 

Joyous screams came out from both of you as you guys free fell with your backs facing the ground and faces looking up towards the sky. Your backs both made contact with the softness of the petals and pollen of the flowers. You and Elain’s bodies both bounced a little once you landed on the pile. Laughs erupted from you guys as the pollen from the flowers below you guys spread all over you guys. Pink, blue, red, and yellow colored powder was everywhere and stained your hairs, faces, arms, and clothes. 

Still laying in the flower pile, you and Elain’s laughs were the only thing that either of you could hear. The sound of beating wings and a thud didn’t reach your ears. Only until a voice spoke that both of your laughs were cut short. 

“What the hell is all of this?!” Cassian’s voice is what brought you guys to look up. Cassian was turning his head around at all the different flowers that were grown in the area then at the large curved tree branch and then lastly landed on the flower pile that you guys still were laying on. 

Azriel stood next to Cassian, surprise written on his face as he took everything in. As he perceives all the different flowers and the tree branch, you and Elain climb out of the pile and stand up. Azriel locks eyes with you and his piercing eyes make you nervous, although he has looked at you before with those eyes. It felt different this time for some reason, like he was contemplating what to say to you. He used to always be fast with his witty and hard words towards you, but he faltered. 

“Did you make all this?” Azriel finally spoke to you. 

The question startled you, because he sounded genuine. Like he was interested and wanted to know. Not a harsh tone like how he normally would have when talking to you. 

You nodded. “Yes. I was able to test my powers out more and I was able to make all of this.” You spoke, for the first time in a long time, to him, in a friendly voice. “I honestly didn’t know you could make all of this… It’s beautiful.” Azriel said as he looked around, his eyes wide with interest looking at every flower, moss, and tree that you made in the surrounding area.

You stood there, eyes slightly widened by his statement. Watching him, not knowing what to say or do. Unable to move because his statement struck you deep in your chest. You rack your brain to think of anything to say. A response. Nothing. You drew a blank. 

You shake off the shock as Azriel turns his eyes and looks at you. His stare sends a shiver down your body. Your chest starts hurting as you feel a pull at your heart. Shocked by the feeling, all you can do is stare back at Azriel. 

He breaks eye contact when he notices Elian standing behind you. His once soft stare changed to his usual harsh look that he normally gave you. “Come Elain. We have to get you back home.” He states as he holds out his hand waiting for Elain. Not giving you a second glance.

You look at your friend waiting for her next move. Hoping she will finally stand up to him. To the inner circle. She doesn’t give you a glance as she lowers her chin and walks towards Azriel. 

You widen your eyes and gap at Elain. Your expectation for her reaction to the situation is completely destroyed. “Elain!” You call her. She stops and she turns to look at you but Azriel steps up to block her view of you. 

“You can’t just take her back!” You exclaim. “Yes I can. She needs to be kept safe.” Azriel states as he grabs her hand and readys to shadow them back to the house. You step closer, “You can’t keep babying her! Stop putting her in a bubble!” You saw Azriels shadows start to swirl around him. “Hey! Azriel I am talking to you!” But before you could get another sentence out, Azriels shadowed away with Elain. 

You stare in disbelief at the spot where he was just standing. He actually ignored you. Your breathing comes in and out in heavy breaths. Cassian walks over slowly and looks at you with pity eyes. Silently saying sorry about what just happened. Look at Cassian with a determined attitude. “Take me back. Now.” You say in a sharp tone. Cassian nods and picks you up and starts to fly back to the Town House.  

Cassian lands on the balcony of the Town House and he doesn’t have time to even place your feet down, you jump out of his arms and storm inside. 

Determined steps echo through the hallway as you march through the house trying to find him. Some of the colored powder coming off you and leaving a small trail. Anger and frustration boiled through you. The flight back didn’t do anything to tame the feelings, it only enhanced them. 

You couldn’t believe that he actually ignored you. He never ignored you. He always had a snarky comment and he would never leave your arguments without both of you having said your piece and where you both felt tired of the argument. 

No. He just left. That’s what bothered you. He ended up treating you like a child that wasn’t worth any of his time to debate. 

You round a corner and you see him. He stood by Elain’s bedroom door talking to someone inside, he hasn’t noticed you. “Azriel!” You yell at him as you walk aggressively towards him. He turns his head in your direction and quickly says something in Elain’s room and the door closes shut. 

“What the hell?!” Azriel eyes zone in you, he steps towards you quickly with a sharp look in his eyes. His face is void of emotion as both of you get closer to each other. 

You don’t relent, “Why did you-“ Before you could even finish your sentence. Azriel grabs your forearm, not harshly but with enough force so you couldn’t pull away, and pulls you to follow him. “Stop yelling.” He says flatly, not even looking back at you as he pulls you towards a door and opens it. 

“How dare you tell me not to yell?! You literally left as I was talking to you!” You whip around to Azriel as he lets go of your forearm and closes the door. It takes you a few seconds for your senses to realize that Azriel led you into your room. Confusion falls upon your face as you questionably look at Azriel. 

“Why did you bring us into MY room?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. As you tilt your head at him, waiting for his answer. 

“Because you were yelling. The whole house doesn't need to hear your loud voice. This was the closest room.” Azriel said in a matter of fact tone. As he looks at you with a blank expression. 

“Well that never stopped you before! And for the record I can yell if I want to.” You huff and glare at him. “But seriously, what the hell?!” 

“What?” Azriel asks in an irritated voice. “What do you mean what? YOU literally left me!” You voice out, clearly frustrated. “What do you mean? Cassian brought you back didn’t he? I don’t understand what your so mad about.” Azriel says flatly. 

“That’s not what I mean! I mean, you literally left me as I was talking to you.” You say as you use your hands to point at him. He scuffs, “That’s what your mad about. That I didn’t talk to you when you were trying to stop me from bringing Elain back?” 

“Yes!” You nod in agreement. Azriel looks at you questionable, “What are you 8! Your mad that I ignored you when I was bringing Elain back here where she SHOULD have been before YOU decided it would be a great idea for her to take a stroll in the woods!” He says sarcastically. 

“I am not a child! Yes I am mad that you ignored me BECAUSE you have never ever just up and left whenever we are having an argument.” You yell as you take a step closer to him. “AND, Elain is not a CHILD for you to watch over consistently. She can make her own choices.” 

“Well she choose to come back home with me.” Azriel says in a sharp tone. “Because you TOLD HER TO! You never asked her if she wanted to come back.” You are starting to scream at Azriel at how frustrated you are. 

“Well she never said anything. Besides, like I have told YOU a million times before. Elain NEEDS to be kept safe.” Azriel yells, frustration growing on his face. “Oh my gods.” You laugh out, “You are unbelievable. She is NOT a prize or a secret weapon that needs to be HIDDEN from the world! She is a person that DESERVES to live a normal life and not stuck inside a bubble that YOU and everyone else seems to put her in!” You were seething with anger. 

“Please, you have no idea what your talking about! The measures and steps we take are FOR Elain. WE are the ones that are trying to keep her safe! WE are the ones looking for her well-being!” Azriel takes a step forward and points at you, “But YOU are the one trying to get Elain hurt.” 

“Oh yeah because that makes sense that I am trying to get my good friend whom I CARE FOR injured on purpose!” You face becomes red with the rising anger. “Well if you truly cared for her then you would listen to us and help us keep Elian safe here because you don’t know what she went through. She needs to be protected.” Azriel states as he paces slowly back and forth. 

You take a deep breath in. “I understand that part. I understand that in the beginning we had to be kept hidden and protected. But, if you try and keep us inside this Town House it will start getting suffocating. You guys treated Nesta and I differently from Elain, which granite was probably because of our personalities but still. Elain needs to be treated like an adult and respected.” You explain to Azriel as calmly as you can. 

“We do respect her. We gave her privacy and made sure she didn’t get in harms way.” Azriel’s eyes look at you confused as to your statement. “That’s not what I mean. I mean respect her enough to treat her like an adult. Because everytime you or anyone else talks to her it’s like you guys are talking to a child.” 

“What are you talking about-.” Azriel begins to say. “DON’T, give me that lame excuse.” You cut him off. “Azriel, please for the love of the gods think. When Elain started to come around after being turned, you guys told her to only stay on one side of the house. And if she wanted to go out in the small little garden, she had to be escorted and she was only allowed an hour or two outside. And then think of the times when Nesta would tell her that she isn’t allowed to go to the market because she was gonna be busy and everyone else had appointments that they had to get done. Or even TODAY. YOU said this morning that Elain can not leave until you or Nesta and Cassian get back. When literally I WAS HERE. I could have taken Elain to the market! I could have escorted her to the garden that day! I can take her out of this house if she ever wanted to without having to WAIT for your guy’s permission! I CAN ALSO LOOK AFTER MY FRIEND!” 

Silence. You gasp and stare at Azriel with widen eyes at your surprise confession. The words slipped your mouth without you realizing what you said until you said it. You take a sudden step back, and think of the truth that you just laid bare to the man in front of you. This wasn’t about Elain. Well, part of it was. The way the inner circle has been treating your friend left you so irritated that you wanted it to stop. But in truth. The main reason was because they completely skipped over you. They never truly saw you as a capable person to look after Elain. They never considered you to be someone that could escort her, walk with her, or even go shopping with her. They ignore you. Maybe that is why you got so angry at Azriel. Because he ignored you today. He normally never does that, granite it’s always to fight with you and tell you to not do anything with Elain but nevertheless he acknowledged you. Maybe, just maybe you actually want his attention. His words, fighting or not, you want those words directed to you. Maybe, you always tried to seek for him subconsciously. 

Azriel opens his mouth to say something but you quickly cut him off and say, “I have to go.” You keep you head low and walk past him quickly. Azriel tries to reach out to stop you from walking away, “Wait.” He says eagerly with worriedness in his tone, “Don’t go.” You don’t say anything, yo don’t even look at him. All Azriel can do is watch you rush out your own room and slam the door behind you. He stands there in shock as he listens to your footsteps quickly walk away down the hall. In all of Azriel’s existence in being the Shadowsinger for the High Lord of the Night Court, he didn’t know what to do. The conversation, your confession, it left him standing there like a fool staring at your door. All he thought about was how much of an idiot he was.

Thank you for reading chapter 3! I promise chapter 4 will come out faster because now I have things in my personal life settled. I will see you lovelies in the next (and most likely last chapter for this fic, maybe) But don't worry I have more projects to come in the future, so let me know in the comments if you guys want a sneak peek of my next one and if you want to be taged in any future Azriel fics!

Taglist:

@horneybeach1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @aehllita @tele86 @thelov3lybookworm

[rotten-pomegranate]

Uhmmmm, I don’t have too many ideas…But how do the yanderes in the phantom troupe like the chase/brattiness ? I brain rot thinking about being chased in the deep woods around where a Yandere keeps their darling

The idea of being caught, of the different reactions. Of being dragged back to the prison of a home or even being punished still in the swamp or dirt <3

Hnnnn just thinking! I’ll try to come up with some ideas later on to quench my thirst for your writing🙏

Yandere Phantom troupe members chasing darling through the woods

Warnings: torture, punishment, hitting, yandere, chasing, some Noncon, spanking, oral, abuse

Characters: Chrollo, Feitan, phinks, shalnark, uvogin, machi, Pakunoda, shizuku, Nobonuga. I only did the characters people like ;-;

Also sorry this took so damn long it got lost in the void

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Chrollo

Chrollo was testing you, he wanted to know if you where well trained or if you needed some more disciplining

He makes sure you don’t hear the loud lock clip into place, he makes sure you hear him leave and drive away then he just waits

When he hears you leave he gives you a few minutes to see if you’ll change your mind, when you don’t he calmly yells your name

When he actually starts chasing you he’ll make himself as quiet as possible, you aren’t gonna know he was close until you get tackled into the dirt in the middle of the woods

He wouldn’t been gentle of you behaved and just walked back to him like you should’ve but not now, now your going home and getting punished

Feitan

Feitan wants you to run, he wants an excuse to drag you down to the basement and lock you in the chair just like he’s don’t to do many victims before.

He says he’ll be gone for a few days and that he’s leaving you unchained so you can eat and use the bathroom without trouble, but in reality he’s just waiting in the shed to see if you’ll take the bait

He locks the door but leaves the keys in his nightstand right where he made sure you saw him put them days earlier

When he sees you leave he grabs you and lets you know you have a head start, catching something right away isn’t fun after all

When he gets you just hope you didn’t excite him to much because if you do he’s gonna pin you down and fuck you before you can even get back to the house

Phinks

he didn’t have a lot of hope, he wanted to know if you would chose to stay with him if given the opportunity to leave

Obviously you wouldn’t, he kidnapped you, yelled at you for everything and abused you in the most intimate way possible just because he was bigger and stronger then you, he knew you couldn’t do anything

So when he left the door cracked open of course you took the opportunity, you did not expect to see him standing right outside it though, pressed up against the wall so you wouldn’t see him

He garbs you and slams you against the wall, tells you how the door back inside is open but if you wanna run he’s giving you a thirty second head start before he catches and punishes you for trying to get away, he also lets you know your punishment is a broken leg so you better run like hell

Shalnark

Shalnark is out doing somthing and he sees you on the cameras, he’s sad that your trying to get away but not surprised

He’s not even worried, he has cameras all over the woods by his house and your prison

He finishes what he was doing and drives home at a normal speed, but when he gets there it all changes, he lets his presence be known and he yells that if you come out now the punishment will be fast and easy, maybe he’ll spank you once for every camera he seen you on, or maybe you can suck him off and call it a night

But no of course not, you had to be difficult, you had to keep running, now what he’s gonna do is run after you and beat you up when he finds you, all with that sweet little face of his, smiling down at you while he kicks you in the stomach

When he brings you home it’s gonna be hell to, just him using your tied up body as a sex slave, and he won’t out a antenna in you either, he wants you to remember it all

Uvogin

Uvogin is a beast but he’s not stupid, not stupid enough to leave the door to the house unlocked no he did that purpose, he just wants a good chase, one that he gets a reward at the end of, your the reward by the way

He waits in a tree until he sees you start running down the pathway he let you decorate with flowers, how ungrateful he’ll be sure to make you show him how grateful you are while he’s using you body

He’s makes sure you know he’s fallowing you, he’s loud and he’s talking about the stuff he’s gonna do to you when he gets you, talking about how he naught break you hips while he’s gripping them and using you like a fleshlight or how he’s not gonna gag you because he wants to hear you

He’s gonna fully tackle you to the ground when he’s close enough but he won’t do it right away, he does want a chase

He’s pinning you down and ripping you cloths off right there in the dirt under the moonlight

When he’s done he leaves, you better fallow him in your pitiful fucked out necked form if you Wanna clean up and get a bath when you get home even though as soon as you walk through the door your just getting fucked again and again no matter how much you scream no

Machi

Machi genuinely forgot to lock the door, she was focused on something else and just left it open

She was half way to her destination when she just got a hunch that something was off and she was right there you where just disappearing into the woods when she pulled in to the driveway

She’s mad at you for running and herself for giving you the chance to

She uses her nen threads to catch you, putting the all around to you can’t move without getting small painful cuts from invisible threads

When you finally stop she’s gonna calmly walk towards you and drag you back to the house, she’s not gonna punish you to bad because she did leave the door unlocked so she’ll do something simple like a spanking or having you sleep on the floor

Pakunoda

Pakunoda this sweet women was just trying to give you some freedom, she was letting you move around the house freely but only the window in your room was sealed shut

She gets home with some sushi and soft silk pyjamas for you and her but your nowhere to be found, she’s so sad the you left her after she was so nice

She understands she kidnapped you but she really thought you where getting used to her

She’s so gentle when bringing you back home, your emotions are already so wild at the moment she doesn’t wanna set a permanent image of herself as scary

She so calmly brings you to your room and talks to you about how she hates punishing you but she has no choice

She spanks you with a paddle and makes you count, she gives you thirty spanks before she holds you and gives your the pyjamas and sushi, she’s so sweet about it, telling you it could’ve been different if you just didn’t run away

Shizuku

She forgot to lock the door, poor girl is trying her hardest to manage having you locked in a room while continuously forgetting everything

She’s just drinking her morning tea when she sees you running into the forest outside, she’s so confused at first, like no that can’t be them, they are sleeping in their room

Your weren’t, she went to check and finds out it was you, she gets blinky to tear the forest apart so she can find you

She literally doesn’t care, she just puts you back in your room and gives you breakfast

She has no shits to give

Nobunaga

Nobunaga takes it the hardest he gets home and just freaks the fuck out

Screaming, ripping your house apart and then going outside and doing the same to the forest

Your poor little self will be running for dear life while he’s talking about you never getting anything ever again

Another one that completely jumps on you and takes the breath out of your lungs

He’s just holding you into the dirt by your neck saying how dangerous it is out here and how you guys have to go back to the house now

He’s gonna make you show him how sorry you are as soon as your in the door don’t worry

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©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

[kyojurismo]

Could I please have some Hawks x F!Reader

Reader and Keigo get into a heated argument, and within that argument they are yelling at each other and they get closer to each other and boom they have heated angry sex 😩

Please and thank you uwu

character : keigo takami / hawks

tags : fem!reader, nsfw, crying, make up sex, biting, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex, half of this is not proofread lol + i take this opportunity to remind that english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry in advance.

notes : i’m deeply sorry it took me so long >_< i was super unsure about this piece & i had problems writing it lsksn, i hope you’ll enjoy it <3

you knew keigo. you knew him pretty well after more than a year of being together. but damn, it stung like the first times.

you gripped the magazine between your hands, staring at the pictures of keigo with multiple girls. they were all smiling and hugging him a bit too closely, practically pushing their breasts close to his face.

but you knew keigo.

“the public opinion is important for a pro-hero, y’know,” that’s what he usually said when you brought up the numerous tabloids and magazines for teenagers. it means nothing to keigo, they’re just young girls taking pictures with a pro hero, he has to be kind and accept because that’s also his work.

“bullshit!” you threw it away and got up from the couch, deciding to go prepare something for lunch.

you were tired, and maybe you were in the wrong too, but not being the one next to him after more than a year of being officials made your heart clench in your chest. it was unfair to see your boyfriend act like that and not being able to hold hands in public without getting “assaulted” by multiple people just because he’s the no. 2 pro hero.

after a couple of hours, as you were sitting on the couch watching a show, keigo came home. he announced he was back but you ignored him, not answering. well, that was surprising.

you would usually come running, leaving whatever you were doing, and hug him before kissing him. he entered the kitchen and noticed you left his dinner on the counter, and it was cold now. maybe you got distracted by something and forgot to put it in the oven. he grabbed the plate and walked to the living room, smiling when he noticed you.

“hey babe,” he said and sat beside you, going in to kiss you. as you used your hand to stop and push him away he frowned, not really expecting it. “the hell?” he held the plate and was about to start eating when you decided to speak.

“the hero magazine came out today, i found it in mailbox this morning,” you said while keeping your eyes glued on the tv screen, even though you weren’t following what was actually going on in the show. “okay??” keigo glanced at you in confusion, trying to understand what was going on and why you looked so upset.

“that’s all you have to say?” you spat, clenching your fists. “babe, i don’t know what you’re talking about. can you explain so i’ll see if i can fix it?” he kept his tone calm as he wasn’t really the type to yell or anything. “you don’t– are you for real?” you suddenly got up, grabbed the magazine from the bin and literally threw it his way, everything under keigo’s confused gaze.

he glanced at the magazine, checking the cover and noticed there was a picture of him in a corner, on the right. endeavor took the whole cover, he was no. 1 after all. “you’re mad because i’m not the poster boy?” he asked in an amused tone, taking another bite of his food. that irritated you even more, so you grabbed it and opened it to the page showing keigo with multiple girls. he caught glimpse of the pages way before you threw it at him once more, staring down at him.

“they’re hawks fans,” he explained nonchalantly, resuming eating. was he gonna ignore the elephant in the room? “keigo,” you stared at him with cold eyes. “jeez, just tell me what’s the matter alright? i’m tired [y/n], i just got home from a mission. go easy on me, yeah?” he sighed while tilting his head against the back of the couch, a bit annoyed by the situation. “go easy on me? you’re away most of the time and when you’re not on missions you have all these young girls jumping at you, trying to kiss you and touch you! have you ever imagined how i feel seeing my lover in such situations and having some shitty magazine spit the pictures at my face?!”

“so that’s your problem. you’re just jealous,” keigo glanced at you before resuming eating. you felt your chest tightening at his words, because well yes, you were a bit jealous but it wasn’t enough to make you act like that. “just jealous… you can’t be serious! you don’t even try pushing them away, keigo! you have a fucking girlfriend waiting for you at home! you’re being a piece of shit because ‘public’s opinion is important for my work’ so you’re authorised to make me feel like i’m nothing! i’m just another piece of furniture into your house, aren’t i?!” tears formed in your eyes as you shouted all that, deeply hurt and deluded by his behaviour.

“you’re being childish, we already talked about it and you said it was fine, that you understood my position. i wonder what changed now,” his reply was emotionless, his eyes glanced at the magazine once again before moving to your face. “you’re so selfish! do you actually know how to love someone who’s not yourself and what it means to do so?!” you nervously wiped away the tears, then you noticed how he seemed unfazed by all that. he was sure you wouldn’t leave, it was just the stress getting the best of you. it wasn’t the first argument, he knew you just needed to let it out.

“i can’t take it anymore, keigo. i’m done,” you spoke in a much calmer tone, but your voice sounded cold and distant now. keigo shivered and checked your face for a sign that you were joking. “hah, what?” he chuckled nervously as you walked towards your bedroom.

keigo got up quickly and followed you, watching how you pulled out a bunch of bags and started gathering your stuff. panic filled his body and he went to grab your wrist to stop you.

“hey, no. wait, okay? stop,” he pleaded now, understanding the seriousness of the situation. “lemme go,” you muttered, not even looking at his face. “don’t leave, we can fix it,” he said, keigo’s eyes were desperately searching yours. “i’m tired of being treated like i’m nothing for you! i don’t wanna live like this!” you pushed him away, a fresh wave of tears made your eyes sting. you tried to grab your clothes when keigo stopped you once more.

“[y/n], it’s not funny. we can solve it, i swear!” his hands cupped your face frantically, his voice seemed on edge. keigo seemed scared about the idea of you leaving him. “you’re being childish,” you mimicked him, words filled with hatred. his heart stopped beating for a second and he gulped down nervously, before trying to make you look at him. “please, babe look at me. okay, listen.”

you rolled your eyes before trying to free yourself from his hold, ignoring him. “i’ll change!” he shouted then, surprising you. you were quick to regain your composure, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. “i swear to you, i’ll act differently. you’ll be the one all over me in the pictures! you’re gonna be the one i’m kissing!” he grabbed your forearm and shook you a little.

you finally decided to look at his face and noticed his teary eyes, the fear clear on his features as he desperately held you there in front of him. you tried to fight against your feelings, your heart longing for him, and convince yourself that leaving him was for the better.

“i’m sorry, i’m deeply sorry,” he added and you groaned, before pushing him away once more. “you only act when things get out of your hands, huh?!” you hit his chest before turning around, you needed to get away from him. “hey!” keigo followed after you and grabbed your hips, before pushing you against the wall, making you gasp. you were surprised by his sudden actions as he leaned closer and started kissing your lips, disorienting you.

the kiss was sudden, keigo’s hands reached your face and cupped your cheeks. a part of you tried to resist, simply because you knew it wasn’t the right way to solve it. but at the same time, the way his lips moved against your own, the taste of this heated kiss, made you feel so euphoric that you found yourself hugging his neck as you finally returned the kiss, gasping.

keigo groaned as his hips met yours, he pulled you towards the bed and the moment your back hit the mattress his body covered yours. his lips moved down to your neck, his teeth sank into your skin and left a couple of bites, before his tongue traced them and made you shiver. you tilted your head back and bit your lips, trying to hold back any sound. keigo grunted and moved lower, pulling the collar of your tshirt further down to expose more of your skin to his skilled mouth.

after some moments he started to undress you, showing how impatient he was. you tried to do the same but he stopped your hands and went back to kiss your lips, distracting you from one of his hands sneaking between your legs to push them further open. his fingers caressed your lips, then moved to your warm hole, gathering some slick before going to rub your clit. “so wet already,” he smirked, his voice cocky.

you moaned right into his mouth, as his fingers made your legs tremble. his fingers moved rapidly, your clit throbbed and you clenched around nothing, more and more juices gushing out.

“kei– w-wait!” you arched your back and found it embarrassing how he was able to get you so close to release in such a short time. “hm? what’s the matter?” he clearly mocked you, slowing down the movements of his fingers just a bit. “are you gonna cum?” he asked before playfully bite your neck, making you whimper.

you shook your head, but it was futile. both of you knew that you were close, you just didn’t want to give him satisfaction.

“okay then,” he murmured and stopped touching you completely, he pulled back and stripped off his clothes. his warm hands grabbed your hips before turning your body over to lie on your stomach. you were about to ask him what he was doing before his hand made contact with your ass, hard. you whined and tried to move further up on the bed to escape him. “where you think you’re going?” he chuckled lowly before pulling you back to him, caressing your other cheek and then spanking you, you gripped the sheets as the skin started to sting.

two of his fingers slipped into you, making you gasp. he thrusted them deep, aiming at a particular spot that made you clench hard around him as you moaned against the pillow. “you thought i didn’t notice?” his voice was deep and laced with desire, as you desperately humped your hips, seeking that sweet release. “c’mon… say it,” he kept moving his fingers while his other hand spanked you once again.

you fought to not give in, you were still mad at him and he was avoiding talking with you about the whole situation. you squeezed you eyes shut, gripping the sheets. you were so close, so damn close.

“please… fuck me,” you whispered into the pillow, pushing your ass up as a way to expose your center to him, clit throbbing and begging to get attention. keigo’s fingers slipped out and gave a couple of flicks to it, just to hear you gasp loudly. he knew your body so well. “can you repeat that?” he leaned over and his mouth was close to your ear, before biting your earlobe playfully. “hm?” his hands caressed your hips gently, a deep contrast to his current behaviour. “please keigo… fuck me! i need you,” you repeated, speaking a bit louder. “that’s my good girl,” he kissed your shoulder.

you two moaned at the unison when he finally slipped inside. one of keigo’s hands found yours and intertwined your fingers together, as the other grabbed your hip. he bottomed out inside you, you felt so full as his fast breaths hit your neck. “you feel so fucking good,” he groaned as he started thrusting in and out.

keigo started moving at a quick pace, rubbing against your sweet spot hard with every single thrust. most of the sounds filling the room came from where you two were connected, his grunts and your whimpers accompanying them. you desperately gripped the sheets, feeling that familiar sensation growing in your lower belly. “give it to me, baby. c’mon,” he breathed right into your ear, the warmth of his chest right against your back. you didn’t need to be asked twice, as you reached your peak and gushed around his cock. the way you were clenching around him made him gasp louder, as he hid his flushed face into your neck.

one of his arms wrapped around your middle and held you close, his hips losing rhythm as keigo was simply seeking his own release now. you drooled all over the cushions as his tip bullied your cervix, making you arch your back and cry his name louder and louder. “gonna fill you up so good– ngh, gonna–” keigo rambling stopped as he stilled his hips and emptied inside of you, spurts of cum filling you as you two moaned together.

keigo collapsed on top of you, holding you as close as possible as you cockwarmed him. his lips peppered your neck and shoulders as you two tried to calm down your breathing. “i’m sorry,” he said in a low tone, fingers drawing circles on your skin. “i know it’s been a mess, but i promise i’ll fix this. i’ll make you happy,” you just nodded, not trusting your own voice.

“i promise i will,” he repeated after a while, holding you tightly. you searched his hand and grabbed it, squeezing it a couple of times so that he knew you decided to trust him.