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jungkoode · 14 days ago

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𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 21

˗ˏˋ birthday shots ˎˊ˗

"Jungkook’s friends, Jungkook’s birthday party… It’s all honestly not what you expected. But then again, Jungkook keeps twisting your expectations of him, once and once again."

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⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 8,4k

content: jungkook having friends, feeling out of place, pretty girls, judgemental people, tae/hobi/jk protecting the peace, shared secrets, nicknames gaining an intimate layer, stubbornness with spicy food, drinking, doing shots and jungkook being both attentive and protective.

✧ author's note ✧

Aaaand we’re finally here. The party. The build-up. The chaos potential. The birthday. After 20 chapters of yearning, character dissection, awkward eye contact, and conversations that say everything and nothing at the same time… we are officially entering the next arc: actual real-world social interaction. Which, if you’ve been paying attention, is every character’s personal hell. Including mine.

First of all—yes, this is Jungkook’s party chapter. Yes, it’s a pivotal one. Yes, I was pacing around my flat in a hoodie muttering “okay but what would he wear” like a deranged method actor trying to get into character. And yes, there are about 15 new people here. But please don’t panic. You don’t need to memorize them all. This isn’t a fantasy war council. You’re not about to be quizzed on the name of Jungkook’s friend’s cousin’s dog. They’re not here to steal the plot—they’re here to color it.

Jungkook’s different social groups, clashing and blending like some unhinged Venn diagram of his life. They each say something about him and the many versions of himself he keeps—because, as always, this isn’t about the party. It’s about him and her, and us, and the very inconvenient reality of human attachment.

Now. Tessa (and yes, Toasty, when you read this… the name comes 100% from you hahaha).

Yup. That girl from the library. She’s here. She’s breathing. She’s talking. And she’s not a villain.

I know, I know, fanfiction is riddled with the evil-rival-love-interest trope. The girl who eyes you up and down with thinly veiled contempt. The passive aggressive bitch who “just happens” to sit on his lap or call him baby in front of you. The girl whose entire personality is “threat to the main couple.” And listen—I could never.

Tessa isn’t like that. Because most people aren’t like that. Attraction doesn’t automatically equal competition, and not every woman who talks to a man you like is an enemy. That’s such a tired, flat, boring cliche. I’m not writing this story to project misogynistic tropes onto women so we can feel smug about someone else being “the wrong one.” I don’t want you to root against her. I don’t want you to root against anyone, really. Maybe Mia, but that’s what she’s for. She’s your pressure valve. You need someone to hate. That’s what makes the rest bearable.

Tessa’s presence is not a betrayal. It’s just reality. Jungkook is allowed to be liked. He’s allowed to explore. And so is Nix. She’s not some pushover sainted martyr of “true love.” She’s a girl. She’s confused. She’s a little guarded. She’s still trying to understand herself.

There’s no jealousy because there is no claim. There’s no relationship, no commitment, no confessions, no secret “we’re basically already in love” subtext. There’s just this slow, painful, glacial slide into a kind of closeness that might one day become something else—but hasn’t. Not even close. This chapter is about a possible beginning of something resembling tentative friendship. We are barely out of enemies-to-mildly-tolerating-each-other zone. We are in the “do I text you or is that weird” era.

Don’t rush it. Don’t expect it. That’s not the story I’m telling.

Nix being unbothered isn’t character growth. It’s just honesty. It’s consistency. I’ve spent 20 chapters building a girl who’s emotionally guarded, private, and painfully aware of the dynamics she allows herself to engage in. She’s not “cool with it” to be cool—she’s just not invested like that yet. And that matters. We’re not jumping stages for drama. We’re walking, slowly, through the psychology of two people who don’t even know what they want. Let them be confused. Let them be messy. Let them take their time.

I’m writing slow burn with psychological realism at its core, and that means actions have context. If you came here expecting love confessions and possessive meltdowns and “he’s mine stay away” drama… wrong story, babes. I want you uncomfortable. I want you squinting at every interaction wondering if it means something. I want you to question how affection develops, really. Slowly. Subtly. Almost invisibly, until it’s all you can think about.

The story isn’t about dramatic betrayals or Big Plot Twists. It’s about tension. About two people orbiting each other in their own broken, stumbling ways. It’s about glances that last too long and words that don’t come out right and the way your heart knows something long before your brain does. It’s about patterns, and Jungkook’s are catching up to him.

You don’t need to like everyone. But you should understand them. And that’s what I’m asking of you here. Because these characters aren’t plot devices—they’re real to me. They’re studies. They’re messy. And god, I love them for it.

So yeah. Welcome to the party. The masks are on, the music’s loud, and no one knows how to behave when they’re being watched. Especially him.

Enjoy. Suffer. Stare at the page like you’re decoding a sacred text. That’s the vibe.

And as always…

You’re here to suffer. I’m here to deliver.

You’re welcome.

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

You never realized a person could contain so many versions of themselves until you saw Jungkook surrounded by his friends.

"SURPRISE!"

The word explodes through the small ramen shop, followed by cheers and laughter as Jungkook freezes beside you.

His fingers quickly pocket his phone, eyes widening with a genuine shock that transforms his entire face.

Gone is the perpetually amused, slightly condescending roommate you've come to know. In his place stands someone younger, almost innocent—lips parting in stunned delight, eyes crinkling at the corners.

It's fucking weird is what it is.

"Holy shit," he breathes, a laugh bursting from him as Taehyung launches himself across the restaurant, wrapping Jungkook in a hug that nearly knocks him over. "What the fuck?"

Hobi follows immediately, bouncing on his feet like an overgrown puppy before throwing his arms around both of them, turning the duo into a chaotic tangle of limbs and laughter.

Even Yoongi gets up, offering a slow clap before joining with a more restrained but no less genuine embrace—the kind with back pats that guys do when they want to prove they have exactly two emotions: hungry and sports.

You hang back, suddenly aware of how many strangers are packed into this place.

The restaurant is full of people—at least a dozen beyond the ones you recognize—all focused on Jungkook with varying degrees of excitement. Some are already raising drinks in toast, others taking photos, a couple shouting things you can't quite make out over the general chaos.

"P-Kill! Happy birthday, man!"

"Proofs! You made it!"

"Proofy, get over here!"

What the actual fuck are these names?

You frown, trying to connect these bizarre nicknames to the Jungkook you know—the one who leaves his dirty dishes in the sink and plays his music too loud and once tried to convince you that Kraft mac and cheese was "technically gourmet."

None of this computes.

Jungkook catches your confusion as he disentangles himself from his friends, eyes flicking toward you with that familiar half-smile that somehow feels like a private joke.

"Hey," he says, suddenly at your side again. His hand brushes your elbow briefly—not grabbing, just a light touch that seems oddly grounding in this chaos. "These are my friends. Guys, this is my roommate."

He says your name easily, no ‘Phoenix’ or ‘Nix’ in sight, and it's weirdly jarring—like hearing a song you know played in the wrong key.

Not technically wrong, just... off.

The next few minutes are a blur of names and faces, most immediately forgotten as you try to keep track of who's who in this bizarre alternative universe where Jungkook is apparently the center of a large social circle. There's a group of guys—gamers, apparently—who keep calling him those weird nicknames.

"These three idiots," Jungkook explains, gesturing toward a trio of guys who look like they haven't seen sunlight in months, "are my Steam friends. My username is ProofedToKill, so that's where all the dumb nicknames come from."

Of course, that tracks. He's always yelling at the TV when he plays Call of Duty in the living room. You've had multiple arguments about it, usually ending with him putting on headphones and you turning up your music out of spite.

"Don't start," he warns, but there's no real edge to it. "I've already heard all your anti-shooters propaganda."

"It's not propaganda if it's true."

He rolls his eyes but doesn't take the bait, already being pulled toward another group by Taehyung.

"Come on, there are more people you should meet."

You follow, because what else are you going to do? Stand alone by the door like some kind of abandoned pet?

Besides, you're curious now. Curious about these other fragments of Jungkook's life that you've never been privy to before.

The space is packed, noisy in that way that forces everyone to talk slightly too loud. Sensory overload city. People keep touching Jungkook—hugs, shoulder claps, high fives—and he's letting them, which might be the weirdest part of all this.

Since when does he like being touched by people who aren't naked?

"Jungkook!" a female voice exclaims, cutting through the noise. A tall girl with auburn hair moves toward him with the confident grace of someone who's never tripped over her own feet in public. "Happy birthday!"

She wraps him in a hug that makes you realize just how tall she is—like, almost his height tall—and beside her, another girl—smaller, with short black hair and glasses—offers a more reserved greeting.

"Hey Tessa, hey Diana," Jungkook says, looking genuinely pleased to see them. "Didn't think you'd be here!"

Tessa.

The library girl. The one he was doing that group project thing with. The one who kept laughing too loud whenever Jungkook said something that probably wasn't even that funny.

"Taehyung invited us," she explains, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hope that's okay."

"Of course it's okay," Jungkook says, and you hate how sincere he sounds.

Where's the sarcastic asshole you live with? Who is this pod person?

"We brought you something," Diana says, holding out a small bag. "Just a little thing."

Jungkook accepts it with a thanks that sounds almost shy, and what the fuck? Since when is he shy about anything?

"Oh, this is my roommate," he adds, suddenly remembering your existence.

He says your name again, and you force a smile because what else can you do in this bizarre social ritual?

"Nice to meet you," Tessa says with a warmth that feels genuine, which is almost worse than if she'd been fake. At least fake would make sense. "Jungkook's mentioned you before. You're in English Lit, right?"

He's talked about you? To her?

What the fuck has he said?

"Yeah," you manage, because apparently your vocabulary has been reduced to monosyllables in the face of all this unexpected social interaction. "English major."

"That's amazing," she says, and she actually seems to mean it. "I'm in Film too, but I've always loved literature. What's your focus?"

Before you can answer—thank god, because you haven't prepared a thesis statement on your academic interests for a birthday party—Hobi appears with a tray of shots, announcing that it's time for the birthday boy to start celebrating properly.

So, of course, the whole crowd moves towards him, shots being thrown back easily. You find yourself suddenly on the outside of it, still standing with Tessa and Diana but no longer the focus of their attention.

It's a relief, honestly.

You've never been good at this kind of thing—large groups, small talk, unfamiliar social dynamics.

It's like being dropped into a play where everyone else knows the script and you're just… improvising. Kinda hoping you don't accidentally say the wrong line and reveal yourself as the impostor.

Your eyes wander around the restaurant, taking in the details you missed—it’s actually a cozy place, warm wood and soft lighting, with private booths along one wall and a long table down the center where most of Jungkook's friends have gathered.

You can smell the sizzling of pans working through different ingredients—garlic, onion, ginger… But your eyes end up on Jungkook anyway.

He swallows down a shot, grimacing at the burn.

Someone passes him another.

Someone else claps him on the back.

He's at the center of all this attention and he's... thriving in it. Laughing, talking.

It’s strange, seeing him like this. So carefree, so loud (although he’s always loud but this is a different kind of loud?)—so in his… element.

You can’t help but feel out of place.

Because, truly. Do you even fit in here? Are you an element? Part of his element? Or whatever this is?

This morning you were agonizing over whether you could be friends with the guy you've been fucking.

Now you're standing in a room full of people who already are his friends, who've known him much longer than you have, who see a completely different side of him than the one you get.

It's... a lot.

You pull out your phone, needing something to do with your hands, but the screen stays dark. Okay. Dead. Fantastic.

"You okay?"

The voice at your elbow makes you jump.

It's Jungkook, somehow back at your side despite the crowd still demanding his attention.

"Fine," you say automatically. "Just... observing."

His eyes scan your face, more perceptive than you'd like. "You look like you'd rather be literally anywhere else."

"Not true. I can think of at least three places that would be worse." You tick them off on your fingers. "The DMV. An insurance seminar. Dinner with my parents."

That gets a laugh out of him—a real one, one you seem to be getting out of him more and more often.

“Fair enough. Come on, let me get you a drink. It'll help with..."

He pauses, purses his lips as he tilts his head at you.

"With what, exactly?"

"The whole 'I'd rather eat glass than make small talk with strangers' vibe you're giving off."

"I'm not—" you start to protest, but he's already pulling you toward the bar, his hand warm against your lower back.

"It's fine, Phee," he says, the familiar nickname slipping out naturally now that you're momentarily separated from the crowd. "Not everyone's into the whole big social scene. You don't have to pretend."

You want to argue on principle—deny that he knows you that well, that he can read your discomfort so easily—but it would be pointless.

He's right.

You do hate this.

And the fact that he noticed, that he came back to check on you instead of just leaving you to flounder on your own...

It's annoying. Or it should be.

Instead, it feels weirdly considerate.

"I don't need a babysitter," you mutter as he flags down the bartender. "Go enjoy your party. I'm perfectly capable of standing in a corner judging people on my own."

"Maybe I'm enjoying my party more over here."

He orders something you don't catch, then turns back to you with that half-smile that's somehow more familiar than the broad grin he's been flashing at everyone else.

“Besides, if I leave you alone too long, you might decide to ditch, and then who would I blame when I need an excuse to escape Hobi's karaoke demands?"

"Yoongi seems like a good scapegoat."

"Nah, Yoongi secretly loves karaoke. Just pretends to hate it so people will beg him. It's weird."

The bartender slides two glasses toward Jungkook—whiskey is one, by the look of it.

The other one is…

Vodka cranberry.

He remembers?

You lick your lips. Nervous suddenly. Maybe. Or not really. Just uncomfortable, because here it is again. Jungkook being attentive, doing these stupid kind things that completely shatter the reputation you have built for him in your head.

"You really don't have to babysit me," you say again, but you take the drink anyway. "I'm fine."

His eyes search yours, more serious than usual. "I know you're fine. Maybe I just want to hang out with you."

Something shifts in your chest—a small, uncomfortable flutter.

“Why? You have a dozen other people here who actually like you."

"Ouch." He presses a hand to his heart, mock wounded. "And here I thought we were making progress on the whole friendship thing."

"The jury's still out on that one."

"Uh-huh." He takes a sip of his whiskey, eyes never leaving yours. "Well, consider this evidence for the 'pro' column: I noticed you were uncomfortable and came to rescue you instead of letting you suffer in silence."

"Maybe I prefer suffering in silence."

"No one prefers suffering in silence, Nix. Some people just don't think they deserve better."

The way he says it makes something twirl uncomfortable inside your chest.

You take a large drink instead of responding, welcoming the burn as it slides down your throat.

“Make sure to finish that quickly. Get ready for the party games.”

"There are going to be party games?"

"That’s only the beginning."

"So," you say, swaying your glass slightly, watching the burgundy liquid catch the light, "ProofedToKill, huh? Didn't know I was living with such a badass."

"No? I thought you knew how badass I am.”

“You’re bad, and an ass. That doesn’t make you a badass. Different word.”

He laughs, low and warm, and you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips without conscious input.

"You know what it actually means?" he asks, leaning back against the wall.

You raise an eyebrow. "That you're secretly a hitman with terrible grammar?"

"Hilarious." He rolls his eyes, but there's no real irritation behind it. "It's a baking term, actually."

"A what now?"

"Baking. You know, that thing people do with flour and heat instead of burning the place down.”

“If you bring up the candle incident one more time—”

He makes a zipping motion over his mouth, and your lips twitch with the effort of chuckling.

“Wait, are you seriously telling me your super tough gamer name is about... baking?"

He sighs, looking down at his glass. "When you're making bread—sourdough specifically—there's this stage called 'proofing.’ It's when the dough rises, develops flavor. If you overproof it, it collapses. If you underproof, it's dense. But if you get it just right..."

"You've... proofed to kill?" you finish, unable to keep the disbelief from your voice.

"Exactly." He grins, clearly pleased that you've made the connection. "Perfect proofing. Killer bread. It's a whole thing."

You stare at him, genuinely speechless for perhaps the first time since you've known him.

This man—this infuriating, cocky roommate who struts around like he owns every room he enters��has a gamer tag based on fucking bread-making.

And he's admitting it.

Voluntarily.

"So let me get this straight," you say slowly. "Your badass online persona, the one all your friends call you by, is actually a baking pun?"

"In my defense, it's a really good pun. And most people assume it's about, you know, being good at shooting things. Which I also am." He shrugs, cockiness slipping back into place.

“You’re so weird,” you mutter, but you know he doesn’t take it seriously.

"Been doing it since college. The whole sourdough thing at midnight." He confesses, glancing around briefly, like he's checking to make sure no one else is listening, then lowers his voice. "My mom taught me. She had this whole recipe she'd developed over years, this perfect sourdough method. Made the best bread you've ever tasted."

Again that softness, almost reverence when he speaks about his mom.

It always catches you off guard. You've never heard him talk like this before. Never heard him talk about his family at all, really.

"After she..." he continues, then stops himself, shaking his head slightly. "Anyway. I keep trying to recreate it. Haven't quite nailed it yet."

Neither of you speak for a couple of beats. His gaze is still fixed on his drink, and then he takes a sip, like his mind is somewhere else completely.

“Is that why you stress-bake at 3 AM? Trying to get the proof right?"

His eyes meet yours, surprised.

Maybe a little grateful for the redirect.

“You’ve noticed?”

“I mean, I just went to the bathroom one night and saw you fighting the dough, so…”

He chuckles, gaze back on his glass. “Yeah. It's... meditative, I guess. Helps me think."

"Weird way to think, but okay."

"Says the person who reads the same depressing Kafka story fourteen times and calls it 'processing.'"

"It's a good story."

"It's about a guy turning into a giant bug."

"And it speaks to the alienation inherent in modern existence. Your point?"

He laughs again, shaking his head. "God, you're such a fucking English major."

"And you're a secret bread nerd. We all have our crosses to bear."

His smile shifts into something different—softer around the edges, almost vulnerable. "Don't tell anyone, okay? About the username thing. I have a reputation to maintain."

"What, you mean your friends don't know your tough gamer handle is actually about your sourdough obsession?"

"Only Yoongi knows. And now you." He drums his fingers on the glass once, twice. "That's enough oversharing on my part for the day, I think. Sooner or later it's going to have to be your turn, you know, Pyx?"

Great. A new variation of your nickname. Does he ever stop coming up with them?

"My turn for what?"

"Sharing something real." His eyes hold yours, steady. "Friendship goes both ways, Nix."

You scoff, ignoring the way your heart rate picks up slightly. "I share things."

"Like what? Your coffee order doesn't count."

"I told you about the IUD."

"That's medical, not personal."

"It's literally inside my body. How much more personal can it get?"

He sighs, but he makes it dramatic this time. "You know what I mean. Something that matters to you. Something real."

You do know. That's the problem. He's asking for exactly the kind of vulnerability you've spent years carefully avoiding. The kind that gives people ammunition, that creates expectations, that leads to disappointment when you inevitably fail to meet them.

But he just told you about his mom. About bread and baking and usernames that mean more than they appear to. He offered something real—small, maybe, but genuine.

And isn't that what this whole friendship experiment is supposed to be about?

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what's going to come out, when a crash from across the restaurant saves you. Hobi has somehow managed to knock over an entire tray of drinks, and the resulting chaos immediately draws everyone's attention, including Jungkook's.

"Shit," he mutters, already half-moving. "I should go help before he makes it worse."

"Go," you nod, equal parts relieved and strangely disappointed. "Your public needs you."

He hesitates, eyes still on yours. "We're not done with this conversation."

"Pretty sure we are."

"Pretty sure we're just getting started." He stands fully, but doesn't leave immediately. "Come join, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him weave through the crowd toward the spill, already calling out something to Hobi that makes the other man laugh despite the mess. It's strange, seeing him like this—in his element, surrounded by people who know him in ways you don't.

ProofedToKill. A baking pun turned gamer tag. A piece of his mother he carries with him, encrypted in plain sight.

You take another sip of your vodka cranberry, wondering what else about Jungkook you've been missing all this time.

Eleven people crammed around a table is basically psychological warfare in restaurant form.

You're somehow stuck directly across from Jungkook, because apparently the universe has a shitty sense of humor.

Next to him, Tessa has claimed her territory, her long legs perfectly positioned under the table while yours are already cramping from the weird angle. Of course.

At least you've got Yoongi on your left—a silent, grounding presence in the chaos. When you'd awkwardly hovered near his chair, he'd just grunted and shifted slightly to make room.

In Yoongi-speak, that's practically a formal invitation with calligraphy and shit.

Diana sits on your other side, petite and prim, her small hands already arranging her napkin with quick movements. She keeps glancing at Tessa across the table with an expression you can't quite decipher—somewhere between admiration and mild disapproval.

The menu in Yoongi's hands looks worn and slightly sticky, but your stomach is basically staging a revolt after hours of nothing but ibuprofen and vodka. You lean over, scanning the options without asking permission because fuck it, you're hungry.

The spicy ramen section catches your eye immediately.

Your stomach gives another impatient growl.

"I want those," you announce, pointing at the spiciest option on the menu.

Yoongi barely blinks. "Cool. I didn't ask."

You roll your eyes and lean back in your chair because, okay, whatever. Rude ass. Though honestly, there's something almost refreshing about his complete lack of social polish.

At least you always know where you stand with him, which is approximately nowhere.

A movement across the table draws your attention.

Jungkook's eyes have lifted from his own menu, catching yours with an intensity that feels weirdly intimate in the crowded space. His gaze flickers down again almost immediately, but not before you notice the corner of his mouth tilting upward.

What's he laughing about? Stupid. He's stupid.

"I kinda wanted the spicy ones too," he says, looking up again. "Maybe we can share?"

You squint at him suspiciously. "Huh? No. I want the bowl entirely for me."

Diana makes a soft sound beside you—half laugh, half disbelief.

“I can't believe you can eat all that."

The words hang there for a moment while your brain processes the judgment packaged in her innocent-sounding comment.

Did she just really—

"C'mon Diana," Tessa cuts in swiftly, laugh warm and genuine, "not everyone has a small stomach like you."

Diana scowls, her delicate features pinching together. "I just think that's a lot to eat."

"Bro, I could eat two bowls in one sitting," Jungkook says.

"Make that three," Taehyung adds from Jungkook's other side. "You're a fucking goblin, Kooks."

"Three? Amateur," one of the gamer guys—Steve? Sean?—chimes in from the end of the table. "Remember that time after the tournament when you ate four bowls of ramen and then threw up in my car?"

"That was food poisoning," Jungkook protests. "Totally different situation."

"Your face was poisoned."

"What does that even mean?"

"Your face... poisoned... my eyes," the guy finishes lamely, clearly losing his train of thought.

"Ten points from Slytherin for that weak-ass comeback," Hobi declares, raising his beer like a wizard's wand. "Jungkook requires better trash talk in his honor."

"Oh shit, we're using Hogwarts points now?" another one asks. "When did we switch systems?"

"Since I just decided, and I'm the dungeon master."

"That's D&D, you uncultured swine," Taehyung sighs, long-suffering. "Completely different franchise."

"Whatever, they're all just wizard nerds," Hobi says with a dismissive wave.

"That's wizard king to you, peasant," Jungkook corrects, puffing out his chest.

“Do you all... actually play these games?" Diana asks, voice faintly disdainful.

"Only when we're not busy with our super cool and important adult lives," Taehyung says, deadpan.

"I just don't get the appeal," she sniffs. "Sitting inside all day, staring at screens—"

"Yo," Hobi cuts in smoothly, somehow managing to sound both friendly and firm at the same time, "different strokes for different folks. Some people climb mountains, some people slay digital dragons. Both valid."

Diana shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. "I guess."

"Besides," you find yourself saying, "it's literally his birthday. Maybe, I don't know, let him enjoy things without the judgment?"

The words come out sharper than intended, surprising even you.

Since when do you jump to Jungkook's defense? Since when do you care if someone judges his nerdy gaming habits?

Jungkook looks equally surprised, eyebrows raised slightly as he studies your face. Then his expression shifts into something softer, almost appreciative.

"Exactly. Today's about celebrating you," Tessa adds, turning to Jungkook with a warm smile. "And apparently your inhuman ability to consume ramen."

"It's my superpower," he says solemnly. "With great appetite comes great indigestion."

A ripple of laughter moves around the table, breaking the awkward moment. Diana still looks sulky, but at least she's dropped the subject.

The waiter appears then, ready to take orders, and the conversation splinters as everyone tries to decide what they want.

"You really getting the level five spicy?" Yoongi asks quietly while the others debate.

"Yeah. Why, think I can't handle it?"

He snorts. "Just checking if I need to order extra water for when you inevitably start crying."

"I do not cry from spicy food."

"Everyone cries from spicy food if it's actually spicy."

"Well, we'll see, won't we?"

He shrugs, a barely perceptible movement of one shoulder. "Your funeral."

"Comforting as always, Yoon."

The ghost of a smile flits across his face before he returns to his default expression of mild disinterest.

Across the table, Jungkook is in the middle of a heated debate with Taehyung about... something involving a game you've never heard of. His hands move animatedly as he talks, face lit with genuine enthusiasm. One of his friends keeps trying to interject, but Jungkook and Taehyung are in their own world, talking over each other and somehow still understanding perfectly.

He looks so unguarded.

So... normal. Like any other twenty-something guy arguing about video games with his friends.

Not that you care. It's just an observation.

"So you're Jungkook's roommate," Diana says, drawing your attention back to her. Her tone suggests this is somehow both surprising and slightly concerning.

"Yep." You keep it brief, hoping she'll take the hint and drop whatever line of questioning is forming behind those judgmental eyes.

No such luck.

"And how did that happen exactly? Through the university housing board?"

"Craigslist, actually."

Her eyebrows shoot up like you've just admitted to finding the apartment through a demonic summoning ritual.

“Oh! Isn't that... dangerous?"

"Not really. The apartment was already Yoongi and Jungkook's. I just answered the ad for the third room."

"Still," she persists, "moving in with two guys you don't know. That's brave."

The way she says ‘brave’ makes it clear she means ‘stupid,’ but you're not in the mood to defend your housing choices to someone who probably thinks spicy ramen is too adventurous.

"Not really. Yoongi's background check was pretty thorough," you deadpan. "Only had to provide three references, a blood sample, and my complete genetic history."

Diana blinks, clearly unsure if you're joking.

"It's true," Yoongi confirms without looking up from his phone. "Her midichlorian count was acceptable."

"What’s… midichlorian?" Diana asks uncertainly.

"It’s a real scientific test," you say, keeping your expression perfectly serious. "Very exclusive."

She frowns, increasingly confused, and you feel a small, petty satisfaction at her discomfort.

"They're fucking with you," Taehyung calls from across the table, apparently tuned into your conversation despite seemingly being absorbed in his argument with Jungkook. "It's a Star Wars reference."

"Oh." Diana forces a laugh that doesn't reach her eyes. "Right."

"Ignore them," Tessa says kindly. "They operate on their own wavelength sometimes."

"Especially these two," Hobi adds, gesturing between Taehyung and Jungkook. "Like an old married couple, but with more shouting and fewer financial benefits."

"What do you mean fewer financial benefits?" Jungkook protests. "I've been carrying his broke ass in-game economy for years."

"That gold farm was my idea!"

"Your idea crashed the server and got us banned for a week!"

"Details," Taehyung waves dismissively. "The point is, I'm the brains of this operation."

"And I'm the beauty," Jungkook fires back, striking a pose that makes Hobi snort water through his nose.

It's all so... easy. The banter, the inside jokes, the casual way they navigate each other's personalities. They've clearly had years to develop this rhythm, to learn each other's edges and how to fit together despite them—or maybe because of them.

Something twists in your chest, sharp and unexpected. You busy yourself with your water glass, suddenly very interested in the condensation gathering along its sides.

The waiter returns with drinks, setting them around the table. You're grateful for the distraction, for something to do with your hands besides fidget awkwardly.

"Alright," Hobi declares once everyone has a drink, lifting his glass. "To the birthday boy! May your K/D ratio remain impressive and your hairline unreceded."

"Here's to another year of Jungkook being Jungkook," Taehyung adds, raising his own glass. "God help us all."

"To Kooks," Tessa says, her voice softer but no less sincere. "Happy birthday."

Glasses clink around the table, a chorus of echoed sentiments following. You lift your glass automatically, catching Jungkook's eye as you do. He's watching you, before he smiles—small and surprisingly genuine.

"Thanks for getting me here," he says quietly, just for you.

"Don't mention it," you reply, equally quiet. "Seriously. Don't. I'll deny everything."

His smile widens, and for a moment, it feels like you're back in that booth from earlier—just the two of you, everyone else fading to background noise.

Then Taehyung jostles his arm, demanding his opinion on something, and the moment breaks.

You take a sip of your drink, trying to ignore the strange feeling that's settled in your chest.

It's probably just hunger. Or the vodka from earlier.

Or the fact that you've been in this loud, crowded restaurant for what feels like hours now, surrounded by people you barely know, playing a role you're not quite sure how to perform.

Yeah. That's definitely it.

The server arrives with a ridiculous number of bowls balanced along his arms like some kind of food-based Cirque du Soleil performer. Steam rises from each one, carrying scents that make your stomach growl with embarrassing volume.

A massive, angry-looking bowl lands in front of you, the broth practically glowing red. It looks like someone liquefied the sun and threw in some noodles as an afterthought.

Perfect.

Two bowls slide in front of Jungkook—your spicy demon soup's twin and something much more reasonable looking, probably miso based on the color.

"Hungry much?" you ask, eyeing his double order.

"Growing boy," he shrugs, already reaching for chopsticks.

Taehyung, meanwhile, receives... a plate of curry rice?

"Seriously?" You can't help the judgment that leaks into your voice. "We're at a ramen place and you ordered curry?"

He shoots you a look that could curdle milk. "Some of us have taste beyond 'hot noodle soup.'"

"Some of us aren't afraid of flavor, dickasso."

"Bold words from someone currently holding weapons-grade capsaicin," he fires back, gesturing at your bowl. "Does your taste even function, or did you burn it all away with your sad little Hot Pockets diet?"

"At least I'm not too precious to eat what the restaurant specializes in."

“This is objectively superior."

"Only if your objective is being a pretentious dick."

"I prefer 'discerning connoisseur.'"

"You would."

You hate that banter with Taehyung is starting to become more and more comfortable. Like verbal sparring with someone who actually knows how to return a serve, instead of just standing there getting hit in the face with the ball.

Not that you like him or anything. His whole vibe—artsy, too cool for school, judgmental as fuck—is objectively annoying.

But maybe also a little entertaining.

In small doses.

Very small.

Across the table, Hobi watches this exchange with undisguised amusement, head swiveling between you.

"I feel like I'm witnessing the beginning of a beautiful friendship," he says, grinning widely. "Or a homicide. Hard to tell."

"Definitely homicide," Taehyung and you say in unison, then glare at each other for the coordination.

You turn your attention back to your ramen, inhaling the spicy steam before digging in. The first bite hits like a kick to the teeth—pain followed immediately by pleasure.

It's fucking delicious despite feeling like you just licked the surface of the sun.

"Good?" Yoongi asks, watching your face with what might be the ghost of amusement.

"Incredible," you manage, already reaching for more.

Across the table, Jungkook dives into his own spicy bowl with enthusiasm, slurping noodles with zero concern for how it looks. A drop of broth escapes, clinging to his lower lip.

You're about to say something—point it out, make fun of his complete lack of eating etiquette, something—when Tessa reaches out, casual as anything, and swipes her thumb across his lip.

"Messy," she says, the word warm with affection.

He tilts his head toward her, smiling in a way that can only be described as flirtatious.

“That's my brand."

You purse your lips, returning your attention to your own food.

Whatever. Let him preen over a pretty girl paying attention to him. His loser ass probably never gets that chance.

Although... that's a lie and you know it.

The guy is annoyingly good-looking and he knows it. He's probably used to girls fawning over him, cleaning his face like he's a toddler who can't be trusted with utensils.

"Whatcha looking at, Phee—" He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes widening slightly. "—asantly surprised by how spicy that ramen is? Your face is getting red."

Smooth recovery. Not.

"Just thinking about how long it's been since I've had decent ramen."

You grab your water glass, suddenly very aware of the burning sensation spreading across your tongue.

It's fine. Totally manageable. Nothing to worry about.

"Knew it," Yoongi mutters beside you.

You set the glass down with more force than necessary. "It's not spicy."

"Uh-huh." He doesn't even bother looking up from his own bowl. "That's why your face is the same color as the broth."

"It's warm in here."

"Sure it is."

"I can handle spice."

"Never said you couldn't."

"You implied it."

He finally glances at you, expression as bored as ever. "I implied you're a liar, not a spice lightweight."

"I'm not—" Another wave of heat crashes through your mouth, cutting off your protest. "Fine. It's a little spicy."

The corner of his mouth twitches in what might be a smile on anyone else. "A little."

"Shut up and eat your boring miso."

Amazingly, he actually laughs—a short, quiet sound that's there and gone so quickly you almost think you imagined it.

But no, that was definitely a laugh. From Yoongi. Directed at something you said.

Huh.

You return to your ramen, determined to finish it despite the way your sinuses are starting to protest.

It's a matter of pride now. You said you could handle it, so you'll handle it, even if it kills you.

Which it might. But what a way to go.

You glance up, seeing how Jungkook and Tessa have their heads tilted toward each other, engaged in what looks like a very amusing conversation based on her laugh. She keeps touching his arm, casual little points of contact that seem to arrive at perfectly timed intervals.

She's good at this, you'll give her that. The whole flirting thing. Not too obvious, not too reserved. Just the right amount of interest without seeming desperate.

Huh. He might get laid tonight then. Not by you.

Good for him.

"You're staring again," Taehyung says, his voice pitched low enough that only you can hear. "Plotting his murder or just generally disapproving of his existence?"

"Just wondering how someone with the personality of a half-deflated balloon animal manages to function in society," you reply smoothly.

"Years of practice and an excellent support system." He gestures between himself and Hobi, who's busy trying to convince one of the gamer guys that yes, there is in fact sake in the sake bomb he just drank. "We've been managing his personality disorder since freshman year."

"Sounds exhausting."

"It is." His eyes drift to where Jungkook is now showing Tessa something on his phone, both of them laughing. "But he has his moments."

You turn your attention back to your food. Halfway through, you make the tactical error of taking a large bite just as Hobi says something particularly funny, causing you to inhale sharply—and sending a piece of chili directly into your windpipe.

Coughing. So much coughing.

Your eyes water immediately, turning the table into a blurry mess of colors and shapes as you desperately reach for your water again.

"Easy there," Yoongi says, actually sounding a little concerned as he pushes your glass closer. "Small sips."

You manage to get the water down between coughs, the cool liquid offering minimal relief to your burning throat.

"You okay?" Jungkook asks, leaning across the table with a frown.

Great. Now everyone's looking at you. Perfect. Just what you wanted. All the attention.

"Fine," you rasp, waving a hand dismissively. "Went down the wrong pipe."

"Maybe you should try something less lethal," Diana suggests, eyeing your bowl with thinly veiled judgment. "Like the mild shoyu."

"I'm good with my life choices, thanks."

"Not all of them, I hope," Taehyung mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

You kick him under the table, aiming for his shin but probably hitting the table leg instead based on his lack of reaction.

"If you die from ramen, I'm not cleaning out your room," Yoongi says matter-of-factly.

"Noted. I'll make sure to haunt you specifically."

"Bold of you to assume I'd notice the difference."

"What, between me alive and me as a ghost?"

"You already have a resting bitch face and make weird noises at night. How would I tell?"

You choke again, this time on your own surprise.

"I do not make weird noises at night!"

"The walls are thin."

Heat creeps up your neck, and it has nothing to do with the spice level of your food.

“I don't—that's not—"

"Relax. I meant the way you talk in your sleep."

Oh. That's... marginally less mortifying.

"I talk in my sleep?"

"Constantly."

"About what?"

He shrugs. "Mostly nonsense. Something about pencils last night. Very intense opinions on pencils."

"I don't have opinions about pencils," you protest. "Intense or otherwise."

"Tell that to your subconscious."

The conversation shifts as one of the gamers—Ryan? you think?—slams his empty sake cup on the table with more force than necessary.

"Yo!" he announces, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "We should do shots. Birthday shots for the birthday boy!"

A chorus of approval goes up around the table. Even Diana looks on board with this plan, probably because alcohol is the one thing that might loosen up whatever's holding her personality together.

"The birthday boy needs birthday shots," Hobi agrees, already signaling the waiter.

Taehyung groans. "Please tell me we're not doing that ridiculous 'one shot for each year' tradition. I'm not carrying his drunk ass home again."

"That was one time," Jungkook protests.

"One time too many. You kept trying to pet dogs that weren't there."

"I was seeing through the space-time continuum to where dogs would eventually be."

"You threw up in my shower."

"I cleaned it!"

"With my loofah!"

"I replaced it!"

"After I used it!"

You watch this exchange with growing amusement, the rapid-fire back-and-forth almost dizzying in its intensity. It's clear this is a well-worn argument, trotted out for entertainment value rather than actual grievance.

"Fine," Taehyung concedes dramatically. "Birthday shots. But I'm not responsible for any hallucinated canines or bathroom incidents."

"Deal," Jungkook grins, then turns to Tessa. "You in?"

She laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I should probably pace myself. Early class tomorrow."

"Responsible," he nods, mock serious. "I respect that."

"Unlike some people," Taehyung mutters, glancing pointedly at Jungkook.

"It's my birthday. I'm legally exempt from responsibility for twenty-four hours."

"That's not a law."

"It's the law of birthdays, Tae. Everyone knows this."

Ryan—definitely Ryan—flags down the server successfully this time, ordering a round of shots for the table.

“Even for the responsible ones," he insists when Tessa tries to decline. "Just one. For Proofs."

She relents with a smile, rolling her stupid pretty eyes.

"You too, Miss Spicy Ramen," Ryan says, nodding toward you. "Unless you can't handle your liquor either."

Is that a challenge? It sounds like a challenge.

"I can handle my liquor just fine," you say.

“Debatable,” Jungkook mutters, the menace.

"Oh, fighting words," Hobi laughs, clapping his hands together. "I sense a story here."

"There's no story," Jungkook says quickly.

"I think we've found the first drinking game of the night," Hobi declares. "Most embarrassing Jungkook stories. Winner gets... I don't know, bragging rights and my eternal respect."

"That's not fair," Jungkook protests. "I'm the birthday boy. I should be exempt from humiliation."

"Birthday boy gets birthday roast," Taehyung counters.

Even Yoongi cracks a smile at that, which might be the most shocking development of the evening so far.

Five shots in and the room has developed that particular tilt that makes everything both sharper and blurrier at the same time.

"Next round!" Seth announces, grinning as he surveys the damage he's caused.

Seth, as you've learned through increasingly slurred introductions, is one of Jungkook's film school friends—tall, blonde, and way too enthusiastic about drinking games for someone his size.

"Embarrassing stories! Laugh and you drink!"

Groans mixed with cheers ripple around the table, which has somehow gotten messier and louder with each passing shot. Empty glasses create a small army between plates. Someone knocked over the soy sauce earlier, and no one's bothered to clean it up.

"Oh, oh, OH!" Taehyung practically bounces in his seat, raising his hand like an overeager student. "I have one."

"This'll be good," Yoongi mutters beside you, the most he's spoken in twenty minutes.

Taehyung clears his throat dramatically. "Picture this: Eighth grade. School talent show."

"No," Jungkook groans, head dropping into his hands. "Not that one."

"Yes, that one." Taehyung's grin is borderline evil. "Our boy Kooks here decides he's going to impress Minah Park with a dance routine."

"I'm begging you," Jungkook says, voice muffled through his fingers.

"To what song, you ask?" Taehyung continues, undeterred. "None other than 'Milkshake' by Kelis."

Ryan lets out a bark of laughter, immediately reaching for his shot.

"Oh my god," Diana whispers, eyes wide.

"Did he know what the song was about?" Tessa asks, already giggling.

"That's the best part," Taehyung says, pausing for dramatic effect. "He thought it was literally about making good milkshakes. His mom helped him with the routine."

The table erupts. Even Yoongi snorts, reaching for his shot glass with resigned dignity. You're trying—genuinely trying—to hold it in, pressing your lips together, but then you make the mistake of looking at Jungkook's mortified expression and it's over. Laughter spills out, and you grab your shot, tossing it back with a wince.

"His mom found out what it meant halfway through the performance," Taehyung continues, wiping tears from his eyes. "Her face—I wish smartphones existed back then."

"I hate you," Jungkook mutters, but there's no heat behind it. "So much."

"Did Minah like it at least?" Hobi asks, still chuckling.

"She transferred schools the next week," Taehyung says solemnly. "Unrelated reasons, allegedly."

Another round of laughter, another round of shots.

"My turn," Hobi declares once the chaos subsides. "Let me tell you about the first time I met this guy."

"Which version are you telling?" Jungkook asks warily.

"The true one," Hobi says with a wink. "Picture it: 2021. Dance studio on 8th. This scrawny kid walks in, says he needs to film a project for his class."

"I wasn't scrawny," Jungkook protests.

"You were a twig with hair," Hobi dismisses. "Anyway, he sets up his equipment, very professional, very serious. Then my advanced hip-hop class starts, and halfway through, he abandons his camera to try and join in."

"Oh no," Tessa whispers, delighted.

"Oh yes," Hobi confirms. "He jumps in, full confidence, absolutely sure he can keep up. Two eight-counts later, he slips, takes out my star student, and they both crash into the mirror."

"It didn't break!" Jungkook interjects.

"It cracked," Hobi corrects. "Still there. I call it the Jungkook Memorial Spiderweb."

You laugh despite yourself, drinking quickly to hide your smile when Jungkook shoots you a betrayed look.

"What about you, Yoongi?" Seth asks, refilling glasses with alarming efficiency. "How'd you meet the birthday boy?"

Yoongi regards the question like it's asked him to explain quantum physics.

“Music production seminar. He needed help with a film score." He shrugs. "He wasn't completely terrible."

"From Yoongi, that's basically a marriage proposal," Hobi stage-whispers.

"Wow, such a beautiful story," you deadpan. "So moving. So detailed."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Not all of us need a thousand words to make a point."

"Clearly." You snort, then immediately regret it when the room spins slightly.

"What about you, new girl?" Seth asks, suddenly focused on you with an intensity that feels both flattering and vaguely predatory. "Got any good Jungkook stories from the roommate archives?"

All eyes turn to you, expectant.

You scramble for something suitably embarrassing but not too revealing.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” you say, the alcohol making you bolder than usual. “But I have to live with him, so I’m weighing the entertainment value against the revenge factor.”

“Coward,” Taehyung coughs into his hand.

"Yeah, tell us the real dirt," Seth presses, leaning forward with a grin that suggests he's hoping for something scandalous.

You narrow your eyes, suddenly protective of the weird dynamic you share with Jungkook. These people don't get to know about the late-night arguments over the TV volume, or the silent coffee maker standoffs, or the way he sometimes hums in the shower when he thinks no one can hear.

"Sorry to disappoint," you say with exaggerated sweetness, "but I value my security deposit too much to reveal his darkest secrets."

"Cop-out," Seth accuses, but he's smiling.

"Another round!" Ryan announces, refilling shot glasses with something that smells vaguely like cinnamon and regret. "Tessa, you laughed at the dance story, you owe one."

“I didn’t!” she protests, but she’s fighting a smile now. “I was just… appreciating the story.”

“Liar! Your lips twitched. That’s a drink.”

She shakes her head, still smiling. “No way. I have that early class, remember?”

Before Ryan can argue further, Jungkook smoothly grabs her shot and downs it in one fluid motion.

“Problem solved,” he says, setting the empty glass back on the table with a decisive clink.

Something about the gesture—casual, protective, maybe a little possessive—makes your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol or spicy ramen.

Seth slides another shot toward you. “Here, you need a refill.”

You stare at it, trying to do math through the fuzzy haze of alcohol.

How many shots have you had? Four? Five? You've lost count, which is probably not a great sign.

But everyone’s looking at you, waiting, and you’ve never been good at backing down from a challenge—especially when you’re already tipsy and your judgment is shot to hell.

You reach for the shot, hesitating only slightly. It burns going down, making you cough and sputter in a way that is definitely not attractive, but whatever. You can handle it.

Probably.

“Another round!” Seth calls. “Funniest pet stories. Go.”

And so the new game continues, stories flying around the table with increasing volume and decreasing coherence.

You lose track of who’s talking, everything blurring into laughter and voices and the clinking of glasses.

“Oh, and remember when Jungkook tried to sneak into that bar with his cousin’s ID?” someone is saying—maybe Ryan? The faces at the end of the table are swimming a bit. “The bouncer took one look at the picture and said, ‘This says you’re 5’4” and Filipino.’”

More laughter, more shots. The room spins again when you tilt your head back to drink.

“Another one for you,” Seth says, sliding a fresh shot in front of you after you laugh at something Hobi said. His hand lingers near yours on the table, fingers almost but not quite touching. “Don’t tell me you’re backing down so soon?"

The challenge in his tone hits some stupid part of your brain—the part that's been responsible for most of your worst decisions.

So of course you grab the shot.

"Just getting started," you declare, tossing it back with more confidence than coordination.

Seth grins, clearly pleased by your response. "I like you. You're fun."

"I'm a goddamn delight," you agree solemnly, which makes Taehyung snort into his drink.

The next round comes with someone telling a tale about Jungkook getting locked out of his dorm freshman year wearing only a towel. Hobi recounts the time Jungkook tried to learn breakdancing and sprained both wrists. Jungkook retaliates with something about Taehyung and body paint that has everyone howling and reaching for their drinks.

You keep pace, determined not to be the one who can't hang, even as the room develops an interesting spin and your tongue feels increasingly disconnected from your brain.

"Another one!" Seth declares, sliding a fresh shot in front of you.

You stare at it, hiccupping slightly. The thought of one more makes your stomach perform an acrobatic maneuver.

"I don't know..."

"Come on," he urges, eyes bright with that specific drunk intensity people get when they're determined to make everyone else as wasted as they are. "Don't quit now."

You hiccup slightly, staring at the shot with growing uncertainty.

Your stomach churns in warning.

But your pride is a stubborn, stupid stupid thing.

Before you can decide, Jungkook’s arm shoots across the table, grabbing the shot and downing it in one quick movement. His eyes find Seth’s, narrowed and unmistakably warning.

“I think she’s good,” he says, voice deceptively casual.

Seth raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just keeping the game going, man.”

You stare at Jungkook, confused by the intervention. He catches your look and shrugs, a simple ‘what?’ in his expression that somehow makes you frown harder.

The game shifts again, someone suggesting “Never Have I Ever” as a change of pace. Your brain struggles to keep up with the new rules, everything moving a little too fast, a little too loud.

“Never have I ever…” Seth taps his chin thoughtfully, eyes finding yours again. “Been skinny dipping.”

You groan internally. Of course he’d pick something designed to make people admit to being naked. Typical.

Those who have done it drink, including Jungkook, which makes Tessa raise her eyebrows in a way that seems both surprised and intrigued.

You remain still, glass untouched, which somehow feels like a victory.

The questions continue around the table, growing progressively more suggestive as everyone’s inhibitions lower.

A fresh shot appears in front of you, courtesy of Ryan, who’s moved on from the game and is now just passing out alcohol indiscriminately.

“Drink up!” he declares. “We’re celebrating!”

You stare at the shot, swaying slightly in your seat. The room feels too hot, too crowded, too everything. Your brain is sending out warning signals, but they’re muffled under layers of alcohol and stubbornness.

Jungkook is watching you, expression unreadable but lips pressed together in what might be concern.

He knows you shouldn’t drink that.

You know you shouldn’t drink that.

But admitting it feels like losing somehow.

So you reach for the glass. Fingers clumsy.

Suddenly it’s gone—snatched away by a hand behind you.

“She doesn’t want any more, broski.”

You whip around so fast the room spins alarmingly, but there’s no mistaking that voice, that attitude, that general aura of ‘fuck around and find out.’

Yeji throws back the shot with 0 problem, slamming the empty glass on the table with a decisive clink.

Behind her, Irya and Jimin hover like backup, taking in the scene with varying levels of amusement.

“Surprise.” Yeji grins, sharp and protective. “Happy birthday, dickhead,” she adds, nodding at Jungkook. “Mind if we crash the party?”

goal: 600 notes

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624 notes · View notes

umikawa · 2 months ago

Text

a/n: shout out to the song I was listening to, you a real one.

senku ishigami x gn!reader | 1.3k wc, not proofread (thoroughly) | warnings: sen thinks dumbass and idiot are romantic nicknames, lot of intimate touching (not sexual) a sex joke (I find them funny) a bit ooc unfortunately. I love dialogue.

♫ a starry night in apollo bay / rini

“Hey, genius.”

Senku doesn’t turn at the sound of your voice, he’d already deduced it was you the second he heard your footsteps sink into the sand. “Hey, dumbass.”

A light chuckle follows his sentimental nickname for you (he swears by it) and he finds his body relaxing just from hearing it. He watches you from the corner of his eyes, how you hesitate slightly to sit next to him, measuring the distance between the both of you by your hand– he’s sure you’re worrying if it’s too close.

“Hurry up and sit.” He says, looking unbothered per usual. When you don’t, he casts a lazy look in your direction, you know the exasperation is faux to an extent, but the way his brow twitches slightly shows you genuine concern. “You’re worried for no reason whatsoever, idiot.”

“Sorry.” The soft apology makes him scoff, and then in an unexpected move (from Senku, at least) he tugs you down by the hand, huffing when you fall into his side. “You could be gentle, you know?”

He shrugs the shoulder you lay on, a sliver of a frown on his lips when you scoot away. “You could’ve just sat down. But you didn't, so I had to take the initiative.”

“Yeah and practically pulled me into your lap.” You scoff, flicking sand at his leg.

“Bet you’d like that.” He grins, mischief written all over his face. Your hand comes up to his face, shoving his head backward gently, but the act alone is enough to irritate him. “Idiot.” He scoffs, brushing the sand off his face.

“You love me.” The statement rolled off your tongue as a joke, embedded with playfulness because Senku was not the sentimental type. “I’m your best asset.”

“You’re a damn leech is what you are.” You frown— Senku knows you’re faking it.

“You don’t want me to say the insinuation that popped into my head, do you.” The warning left your mouth with a laugh, bumping your shoulder into his.

Senku chortles, returning your action twice as hard. “Oh, I already know it. You know why?” You raise a brow, urging him to continue. “Because I know you.”

Silence followed his words, it hung heavy over your heads, but it wasn’t tense. His eyes are on you, but yours are set on the night sky twinkling above you. Senku takes you in bit by bit, charting every new mark on your face and neck.

A new scar by your eye, that came after you’d exhausted yourself and fell face first into his baskets.

A few new moles and freckles, likely from the sun, he’d have to figure out sunscreen next. He doubts you’d want to put mud on your face willingly.

The feeling of his cold fingers on your chin finally tears your eyes away from the starry night, your lips parting as you look at him. “Senku?”

He shakes his head, laying his palm flat against your cheek. “Just examining.” You nod slowly, eyes darting over his face– he’s not lying but there’s another reason, you’re sure of it. “You’ve got a few blemishes here and there.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re pretty too.” Your words come out with a scoff, and Senku laughs in response. His palm shifts on your cheek, but he doesn’t pull away, instead his thumb begins to brush under your eye, pulling lightly at the skin. “Senku.”

“Just checking. Remember you had exceptionally bad dry eyes?” You hum. “Though I’m sure it was the result of you staring at your phone all night.”

“You wanted someone to talk to at two in the morning, I was there.”

Senku feels his chest tighten. He dismisses it. “Sure, use me as your excuse.”

His fingers travel to your temples, squeezing lightly until you groan and drop your head. “Huh, that’s new.”

“Don’t go acting like you know how my body reacts to things.” You say, slapping his leg. “I get endless headaches from your long, boring speeches about Neanderthals and the Stone Age.”

He pouts, he looks stupid— cute, even. “Because it applies to this world again, we got sent back in time and now I have to make up for it.”

“We.”

“Sure. We have to make up for it.” You shove him again, and Senku shoves you back. He lets his hands get back to work, tilting and turning your head, the way a kid would with their dolls— you slap him when he tries to turn your head too far to the side.

Then he starts to go down. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake as they trail down your shoulders to your elbows, you’re watching his hands and Senku’s watching you. Noting every reaction, every twitch of your brows, and every shaky breath that leaves your lips.

He holds your wrist, pausing his movements to count your pulse— it’s fast. “Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles at your honesty, nodding his head. “If I did this to you– would you react the same?”

Senku pauses, actually thinking about it. Then he shrugs, “I don’t know.” He retracts his hand, you mourn the loss of contact. He picks your hand up and rests it against his cheek. It already feels warm against your palm. “Go ahead, examine.”

You hesitate at first, crimson eyes locked on you like a hawk, it felt like he was trying to melt you with his gaze. “Your hands are sweating.”

“Shut it.” Senku nods with a laugh, freezing when your hand starts to move down to his neck. Your fingers brush against the stone still stuck in his hair, lightly tugging at the strands around it. “This doesn’t bother you?”

“Nah, it’s an inconvenience sure but, I’m ten billion percent certain it’ll benefit me in the long run.” He gets an uninterested hum in response before your hands slide back up to his jaw.

He looks calm, but his heartbeat is unsteady, he can feel his palm starting to clam up, and his skin feels abnormally hot where your hands are.

Is this normal?

Every brush of your fingers against his skin left a fire, he tries not to catch your eye when his lips part, you’re too focused on them anyway. A shuddering breath comes out when your fingers stop at the base of his neck, you inch closer, and Senku feels his heart stop.

This wasn’t normal.

“Aren’t you ticklish?” His eyes widened slightly at your words, hands coming up to grab your wrists and pull your hands away from him quickly. “How cute. Are you really that ticklish?”

“Don’t even try it, dumbass.” He warns, holding your hands together and away from him. The heat of the moment dissipated slowly, but the rampant beating in Senku’s chest remained.

The crashing waves in front of you take your attention away from him, but Senku keeps his eyes on you– admiring or calculating, he doesn’t know.

Your eyes close when a breeze blows by, he takes it as a chance to scoot closer to you without notice, but you beat him to it. Your head falls to his shoulder, and though his heartbeat skyrockets once again, he lets the puff of faux annoyance out.

He lowers his head, red-dusted cheeks and ears being hidden by the moonlight– he’s grateful for it. If someone saw him in this state, he’d have to come up with some scientific explanation for it to save his ass, but luckily (as much as he could say) he didn’t have to worry about that.

Because it was just you and him.

For now, at least. He’s sure a certain oaf will wake soon.

A content sigh leaves your mouth, tickling his neck. Your hand finds purchase on his arm, and it takes everything within him to not grab your hand and lace his fingers with yours. Because that’s not like him.

“We should go soon,” he whispers, hand hesitantly creeping up your back. “The tide will wash us out if we don’t.”

You hum, the vibrations swarming through Senku’s chest. “Let’s stay for a little while longer.”

Senku doesn’t protest.

Because he wants to be with you for as long as he can.

#drst x reader #dcst x reader #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami x reader #ishigami senku x reader #senku x reader #senku ishigami imagines #senkuu ishigami x reader #ishigami senkuu x reader #dr stone imagines

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nightwngz · 1 year ago

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Older bat! Damian with super or wonder reader who's like sheltered and oblivious to the real world and they go on a mission or smith together and the whole times she's just doing whatever he says because that's what she's used to and he's just like damnn and finds that really attractive

— 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ! ☆

older!damian wayne x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble smut. porn with a plot. dirty talk. fingering. Damian uses Arabic nicknames.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I don't know how I feel about myself today, but I decided to write this for you anyway. I hope you like it. <3

It was one of the first times you, a young girl exiled from the real world and born on an island paradise inhabited only by women, had contact with what was considered 'the real world.' You were not yet accustomed to many things, especially the existence of men, or perhaps men like Damian Wayne.

On Themyscira, you were used to following orders. When the Queen or your trainer told you to "do this," you knew exactly what to do. But when you joined the Justice League and met Batman, you initially believed you were supposed to act the same way. You soon realized that maybe you should have listened when Jon told you to ignore him completely.

At that moment, Damian Wayne, now known as Batman, was the last person you wanted to be trapped with in a situation like this. The two of you were locked in a reinforced room with no way out, where neither your strength nor your wits could help you get out. So you found yourself trapped with the one man who liked to bark orders like he was the king of Gotham.

— You really don't know what to do? — He asked, annoying you again. — Before, Wonder Women were effective.

However, you tried to heed Jon's advice; thus, you responded to him without intending to participate in his game.

— Yes, and in my land, men didn't even exist. So I'm just getting used to working with the inefficiency of one.

Damian slowly approached the box you were sitting in with an annoying grin on his face.

— In fact, I am a detective. Of course I know how to get out of here.

Your confused expression made him smile even harder at your confusion. You weren't sure if it was fair to feel like a complete idiot, but that was exactly how you felt at that moment. Besides, you didn't like him at all.

— And you never thought to open the door, or are you just trying to annoy me by making me live with you?

— Actually... — He replied, moving even closer to you. — I'm testing you. Go and open the door as best you can — He finally ordered.

And as if it were a sacred word, you stood up, determined to open the door to the room at any cost. At first, you tried to break it down with blows, but your strength wasn't enough. It was probably made of some incredibly strong material, possibly of alien origin.

— Try pulling the doorknob with your lasso — he suggested, and once again, you listened.

Damian couldn't help but find the way you obeyed like a trained dog incredibly attractive. Deep down, he felt that he had you at his mercy and that no matter what he asked you to do, you would listen.

Totally exhausted from the effort, you knelt on the ground, but you didn't give up. Feeling sorry for you, he reached over to stroke your hair, trying to calm you down.

— Pretty obedient little thing. — He flattered, lifting your chin so you could look him in the eye. — You don't know how to say no, do you?

A wave of intense heat enveloped you. Perhaps it was the first time you had ever found yourself in an intimate situation with someone, as you had always believed that your body was trained solely for an impending war. Yet, when Damian was around, that was the one purpose of your training you occasionally forgot.

— If I asked you to take off your underwear, would you be so obedient, habibati?

Your cheeks reddened immediately. You knew you should avoid this kind of situation, but having been trained on the island, you understood that you had to follow the orders of a superior. Batman was more experienced than you, making him your superior, and you felt obligated to obey him.

Immediately your panties fell down under the metal skirt of your suit, exposing your pussy to the man in the room.

From what you knew about men, you noticed they often looked for specific qualities in women. However, Damian had never shown any boldness towards you. As time passed, the 'sexual tension' that Jon had mentioned began to feel more like an annoyance.

When he saw that you were listening to him, he smiled as usual. But his smile was not one of despair; it was one of desire.

He knelt down to be at the same height as you. Gently, he slid a finger down your soaked pussy while keeping his eyes on yours, watching for any reaction on your face.

You understood what he was doing and how he was touching every part of the anatomy between your legs with precision. What you didn't understand was how he was so skilled at it.

You couldn't hold back your moans as you felt him gently pinch your now throbbing clit. His touch drove you crazy as you felt waves of pleasure crash against you.

— Damn, what a good girl. Sorry to tell you, Habibati... I have a weakness for obedient women.

#dc comics #dc universe #damian wayne #damian wayne smut #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x reader #batboys #smut #batman

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senascoop · 6 months ago

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희승 — BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG HEADCANONS !

NOTE FROM SENA , request. this took quite so long but here it is. i hope i didn't make you wait for so long anon. LIBRARY!!

꒰ SFW SECTION >

BF! HEESEUNG who is your biggest supporter and cheerleader, he will do everything to hype you up.

BF! HEESEUNG who genuinely listens to your rants or ‘how your day went’, even remembering the smallest details of the conversation to bring it up later.

BF! HEESEUNG who serenades you with his guitar when you can’t sleep, singing softly while looking at you with those dreamy eyes.

BF! HEESEUNG who loves forehead kisses whether it's you giving them or him giving it to you because to him-those feel so intimate.

BF! HEESEUNG who randomly surprises you with heartfelt letters which would then leave you teary-eyed.

BF! HEESEUNG who worries about you a lot. And if you're sick—it’s double. He'll show up with your favourite soup and check up on you a million times.

BF! HEESEUNG who always ensures you're comfortable, offering his shoulder to lean on or his jacket when it's cold.

BF! HEESEUNG who doesn't get overly jealous but makes sure anyone flirting with you has received one of his calm yet knowing smile, making it clear you're his.

BF! HEESEUNG who will drop ‘I love you’ out of nowhere

BF! HEESEUNG who won't shy away from dropping compliments even if it's been too long dating you—whether it's your smile, eyes or simply the way you talk.

BF! HEESEUNG who only shows you his cute and vulnerable side. “don’t leave yet” he'd mutter as he pulls you back to him on bed to cuddle.

BF! HEESEUNG who loves to go on late night walks with you under the stars, holding your hand and talking about how much he wants to marry you one day.

BF! HEESEUNG who makes sure to send you a text even when his schedule is tight. Something sweet like, “Thinking about you. Have you eaten yet?”

BF! HEESEUNG who makes a personalized playlist full of songs that remind him of you.

BF! HEESEUNG who comes up with the cutest nicknames for you, ranging from something common like “babe” to something quirky like “peach” or “sunshine”

BF! HEESEUNG who casually rests his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer whenever you're walking through a crowd or just to make sure you're on the safer side of the road.

BF! HEESEUNG who never liked the idea of “matching” things or outfit with someone until he met you.

꒰ NSFW SECTION , MDNI >

BF! HEESEUNG who’s a quickshot but still lasts long enough to make you cum over and over again. He keeps going even after he blows his load.

BF! HEESEUNG who is very vocal during sex, moaning and grunting as he thrusts into you. His dirty talk is on another level which makes you wet all over again.

BF! HEESEUNG who makes you ride him reverse cowgirl so that he can watch your ass bounce on his cock.

BF! HEESEUNG who loves it when you deepthroat him. He likes to hold your head and fuck your face, the gagging sounds you make further brings him closer to his release.

BF! HEESEUNG who would insist on you drinking his cum while giving him a blowjob because he loves the way the remaining cum drips down your lips and chin.

BF! HEESEUNG who encourages you to touch yourself while he fucks you—squeezing your tits or rather just reaching between your bodies to rub your clit.

BF! HEESEUNG who gives you a creampie whenever you ask for it (def loves it when you beg for his cock). Might make you wait sometimes, teasing you until you're desperate for him.

BF! HEESEUNG who fucks you in every room of the house and every position you can imagine.

BF! HEESEUNG who has you put on a show for him by fingering yourself or using a toy. He jerks off while watching you pleasure yourself.

BF! HEESEUNG who has you calling him “daddy” and beg for his cock like a good girl.

BF! HEESEUNG who loves to fuck you in public places where you might get caught—in the back of the movie theater, in a dressing room, against a wall at a party, etc.

BF! HEESEUNG who spanks you when you act like a brat, leaving red handprints on your ass.

BF! HEESEUNG who would be into tying you up a little and either use ice cubes or his own mouth to tease you.

BF! HEESEUNG who enjoys making you cum—his tongue, fingers, cock, dildo or whatever it is.

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n0vazsq · 6 months ago

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Found the way | PA17 x Reader

pairing . . . soulmate!paul aron x soulmate!mixed!race!reader

summary . . . Meeting your soulmate after talking telepathically for years certainly was something.... especially when he's a race driver and you're an intern working in the same place

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.4k+

warnings . . . none! just a note that i'm going to refer to paul by his name, but reader doesn't know what his name is until they met!! conversations in their mind are in italic!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . wow. this was something to write.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . For as long as you could remember, you and Paul had been connected. It wasn’t something you had asked for, but it felt like it was always meant to be. Every day, you heard his voice in your head, clear as day.

The first time it happened, you had been terrified. You were alone, walking home from school, and suddenly, you heard a voice in your mind.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You had frozen in place, looking around, trying to figure out who had spoken to you, but no one was there. It took weeks before you realized that the voice in your head wasn’t a hallucination or some kind of weird glitch in the world.

It was Paul.

He explained to you that he had the same ability, and he was just as confused as you were. The two of you quickly learned that you could only communicate telepathically, no spoken words, no physical contact, just thoughts exchanged in the quiet spaces of your minds.

And so, over time, you both built a connection. You got to know each other in the most intimate, invisible way. You shared everything. The good, the bad, the joys, and the fears, without the hidden stuff that often came with speaking out loud.

You’d both learned to help each other when things felt overwhelming, offering support when life was too hard to navigate alone. But there was always this unspoken rule; you couldn’t tell each other your names.

At first, it didn’t matter. You both laughed about it, making jokes and creating silly aliases. You had ended up calling him Blondie because of the way he described his hair; golden in every way, from the light shine to the warmth it seemed to radiate.

He’d called you Curls, a teasing nickname for your wild, curly hair. It became your thing.

He was Blondie, and you were Curls, and for some reason, it was perfect.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t both curious. You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to meet him, see what he looked like, hold him close when he had a hard day. But there was always that one, simple rule; no names.

And yet, after years of talking like this, you both had grown closer than anyone else in your life. You had supported each other through heart ache, listened to each other’s frustrations, and celebrated each other’s victories. You couldn’t wait to finally meet in person.

"I’m counting down the days, Curls. I just know you’ll be even more beautiful than I imagined." Paul’s voice echoed in your mind one night, his thoughts filled with affection.

"I can’t wait either, Blondie. I swear, I’ve been dreaming about it." You closed your eyes, smiling, already imagining the moment when you could finally hold him, feel his warmth. "It’s all I think about."

The world outside of your telepathic connection seemed so small. Conversations with friends and family felt distant, almost irrelevant. All that mattered was you and Blondie. But you couldn’t help the anxiety that gnawed at you, what if he didn’t like you in person? What if it was awkward?

"Do you think it’ll be weird when we finally meet?" You asked, the uncertainty creeping into your thoughts.

"No." Paul’s response was immediate, confident. "I’ve been talking to you for years, Curls. It’s going to be perfect."

You had talked to him about your job internship, how you were working behind the scenes in the paddock for a Formula 1 team, assisting with everything from logistics to preparation, and experience to complement your course in motorsport management.

You’d mentioned how exciting, yet nerve wracking, it was to finally get the opportunity to be in such a fast paced environment, learning from professionals in the industry. You’d also shared how there was a possibility, just a small one, that you and he could meet face to face for the first time during the race weekend, though you hadn’t expected it to happen so soon or so unexpectedly.

And now, here you were, standing in the bustling paddock of a Formula 1 race, running around trying to do your job done amidst all the excitement. You were barely keeping your focus, distracted by the knowledge that you were just a few meters away from meeting him, your soulmate, the person who had been in your head for years. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt as nervous as you did.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

You were walking with a team member down the crowded pit lane, carrying a stack of equipment for a quick setup. As you navigated the sea of people, your foot caught on the edge of a toolbox, sending you tumbling forward.

You braced for impact, but before you could hit the ground, a pair of arms shot out, catching you in mid fall.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was go-"

Your heart skipped a beat as you collided with his chest, the impact leaving you breathless. You instinctively looked up into his eyes and froze.

There was something… something so strangely familiar about this person. His bright blue eyes locked onto yours, and everything else seemed to fade away. It was as if you had always known this person, and the realization hit you like a wave.

This was him.

"Curls?" His voice was low, hesitant, but somehow it sounded exactly the same as it did in your mind. You felt a jolt of recognition.

"Blondie?" you replied, nearly breathless. You weren’t sure if you’d said it out loud or thought it, but the words came so naturally.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "You-how-how are you here?" He looked around, clearly trying to piece together the situation.

You smiled, heart pounding in your chest. "The internship."

For a moment, neither of you knew what to say. The shock and joy of the moment hung between you like a heavy blanket, but the connection you felt in your chest was undeniable.

You had been waiting for this day for years, and now that it had finally arrived, you were left speechless.

He held you at arm's length, still unsure, his fingers lightly brushing your arms as though confirming you weren’t just a figment of his imagination. "I-I didn’t expect… This wasn’t how I thought it would happen. I thought we’d… I don’t know… meet some other way."

You laughed, a sound that felt more freeing than anything you had ever experienced. "I didn’t expect it either. But here we are."

"Yeah," he said, grinning now. "Here we are."

And just like that, you both stood there, in the midst of the busy paddock, overwhelmed by the realization that everything you had shared in your minds for years was now physical, real, and right in front of you.

"What's your name, then? Mine is Paul."

You told him your name, smiling when he repeated it, as if testing the way it felt on his tongue.

Paul’s gaze softened as he stared at you, the same intensity and adoration you had always felt from him radiating in his eyes. "I’ve waited for this moment for so long. It feels… unreal."

You reached for his hand, your heart fluttering as your fingers brushed his. The sensation was electric, like every piece of you had clicked into place. "Me too," you whispered. "I’ve always known it was you, but now I can see you, and it’s more than I ever imagined."

He smiled, a tender, almost shy expression that made your heart swell. "So, you’re actually here… and I’m not dreaming?"

"I’m here, Blondie, or Paul," you reassured him softly. "And I’m never going anywhere else."

And then, without thinking, you both moved closer. You didn’t need words to tell him how much this moment meant.

You simply leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt like the peak of everything you had been waiting for. Soft at first, but as if everything else in the world had faded, you deepened it, feeling a connection so deep it was almost overwhelming.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Paul rested his forehead against yours, his grip on your hands tight. "I can’t believe it. You’re here. We’re here."

You smiled, the weight of the years of waiting slowly lifting off your shoulders. "We’re here," you agreed, "and I’ll never leave."

He kissed you again, this time more passionately, as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, you knew, more than ever, that no matter the distance, no matter the years, the connection you had was real.

You had finally found your way to each other.

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forcemeanakin · 1 year ago

Text

Right where you left me.

•WARNINGS: Angst. Situationship. May trigger people with abandonment issues or that have intimacy problems. Not technically cheating, but it may be triggering. Anakin's a douche bag.

Pairing: au!Anakin Skywalker x you!reader.

Summary: Anakin decides to pursue things outside of your relationship, breaking your heart in the process.

Word count: 1.7k.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao.

☽⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✳⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✺⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✳⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯☾

You ran into the coffee shop, in a hurry, which is a normal state for you and your continuous tardiness. “Fuck.” You muttered under your breath as you forced the door open with unnecessary strength.

Anakin must’ve been waiting for half an hour now.

On your tippy toes, you scanned the room, looking for the golden curls to stand out from a booth.

Bingo.

Trying to hide your excitement, you rushed to the table where your -relatively- new thing was waiting for you. You cursed your bag for making so much noise and told yourself off for packing so much shit. Maybe there was no need to bring all the stuff with you, but you couldn’t help yourself in your excitement to show Anakin all of the activities you had planned for you two and the remaining part of the summer.

“Hey.” You whispered loud enough for him to listen to you, but your shortness of breath didn’t go unnoticed by him. He gave you a toothless smile as you sat down in front of him. “I’m sorry I’m late, I was at work and my manager-” You didn’t finish the sentence, instead, your face let him know everything he needed.

“Don’t sweat. I haven’t waited long. Five minutes to be exact.” He checked his phone carelessly.

Oh.

“Training ran long?” You hoped.

“Oh, no, just ran a little late.” He shrugged his shoulders. Like it was of no importance.

At least you felt ashamed for being late. He didn’t seem to carry the same guilt.

Sometimes Anakin did this thing that stung your heart a little. His number one priority had always been him. And when you agreed to try things with him, you knew that was implied in the contract. Part of you had been hoping that you were going to be the reason that changed.

So far, you had failed in your mission.

“Oh, right.” You tried to fake a smile.

“And how’s life outside of work, baby?”

And just like that, your heart felt a little lighter and spark returned to your face. Especially when he reached out to hold your hand and play with your fingers. Especially when he used that nickname that you loved and you hadn’t heard in a while from his lips.

“It’s fine. My summer classes are always boring.” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at the end because he knew how much you hated to take extra courses.

“I told you to give yourself some time off in the summer.” He raised his eyebrow.

“I know, I know…” You huffed. “Actually, I’ve been working on that.” You smiled, turning to your bag and taking some of the things you packed.

Tickets for one of your favorite movies, that he insisted he wanted to watch with you. It made you smile so hard when he had proposed that plan, given that he was aware how much that franchise meant to you.

You also took out some coins for the local fair, the one you two had walked by and promised to do that as your next date.

The brand new control for your gaming console you had just bought to join him in video games because he said he wanted to share that without you. He seemed pretty excited to do that as an activity together and he even listed all of the games you might like.

And right when you were about to take the keys of your summer house out, to hint him that you were ready to take the next step in your relationship, he stopped you.

Anything intimate always made you nervous, even when you two were in the middle of it. It was a very vulnerable space for you and Anakin was your first in many things. It was normal for you to still be adapting to it.

But you wanted to try. For you.

For him.

As a more experienced person than you, Anakin had needs. Needs that you sometimes failed to meet. That even though he was patient, you could feel how your lack of confidence sometimes bugged him. Not in an explicit manner, just… the occasional huff when he tried something experimental in bed or when you started to psych yourself out of the make out session.

Any other person would have already left, but Anakin was your friend first and he was well aware of your uptight personality way before the two of you agreed to be friends with benefits. He knew what he was getting into and he was actually glad to help you experiment with that part of yourself you normally hid.

So your demonstration of being an organized and planning psycho was nothing new to him.

“Hey, hey…” He slowed you down, barely gazing the things on the table and fixing his eyes on yours. “Before you get started, I wanted to talk to you.”

His serious tone alerted you. But you weren’t surprised. Something inside of you had been alerting you all weekend. You thought it was your well-known anxiety. However, this felt unusual. Like his habitual ghosting and lack of response for the past few days meant different things this time.

“Sure.” You took a deep breath, trying to make it not so obvious. “Go ahead.” You nodded with a little smile trying to appear serene.

“So, sorry for not replying to your texts this weekend. I was out in nature, thinking and connecting, you know?” He tilted his head, his eyes looking for some compassion out of you.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You rushed the words when the silence dipped between you two, part of it your fault because you were too worried with your sinking heart.

You could understand a little impromptu retreat, you only wished it wasn’t right after you did some pretty intimate stuff back at your house. That last day you two crossed more boundaries than ever before. And even though you highly enjoyed it, his absence after that had you feeling nauseous, making you overthink and regret your decision of not giving him your virginity right in that opportunity. Maybe he would have shown more interest if you would have-

“So…Uhm… I think we should stop hanging out.”

Your heart was down by your feet when he pronounced those words. You tried with all your soul to control your trembling hands that lied in between his palms so he didn’t notice how he was ripping you apart. Your irregular breath threatened to put you on blast but you managed to keep it on the low.

“It’s not about you, seriously. I love hanging out with you and spending time with you, among other stuff.” He chuckled lightly, but instead of following his action, you released the breath you were holding. “But I’ve been talking to this girl and I just want to make sure that everything is working out with her. Emotionally.”

The sting in your eyes only grew bigger as you realized how embarrassing and heart shattering this moment was for you. Your cheeks felt hot and tight, something you tried hard to disguise with a breezy exterior.

Like a flash, you remembered the day both of you talked about the rules of your agreement. You kicked yourself mentally when you reminisced of the moment where both of you agreed to let the other one know if they wanted to pursue something with someone else. You had said yes, in the expectation that his constant checking in on you and daily talks was enough proof of interest. Meaning that he would not be looking outside of your “situationship” .

And you agreed, because that was your case. You were interested enough.

“You let me know if you want to see another guy, okay?”

You could almost laugh at such stupid idea. Didn’t he know?

“I think it’s better if we stop talking, so I can figure out things with her.” He scrunched his nose, like he was running out of words.

But how many words do you actually need to let someone know you don’t want them? He didn’t need much more. You’ve gotten the message.

“It’s nothing definitive, but yeah… Let me know if you have any questions.” He gave you a side smile, still fidgeting with your frozen-in-place fingers.

That took you out of the slow motion trance you were in.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You took your hands out of his quickly, blinking quickly into realization. You started to rush everything back in your purse, screaming the word “Stupid!” over and over again in your head while you carried on with a calm expression. “Do not worry about me. No questions on my part. Thanks for letting me know.”

I guess.

“Totally agree with not talking anymore.” You finally stopped for a second after pushing all of the items on your tote bag. He seemed to be analyzing your expression in search of any sign of real approval, because your shy and cold body language wasn’t reassuring him. So you put on your bravest face and forced a smile. “I hope everything turns out great with her.”

Speaking those words felt like hot iron was passing through your throat.

He gave you an honest smile and got up, taking his jacket with him. “Thank you. And thanks for understanding.”

You stayed frozen in place, your purse on your lap with your hands clutching it so hard you could feel your nails through the fabric. You limited yourself to nodding quietly and letting the side of your mouth curve slightly up.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay-” He began explaining his sudden escape.

“Don’t be. Don’t worry about me. ” You dismissed. “I’ll just stay and have lunch.” You took the menu and fixed your gaze on the listed items, anything that wouldn’t be his eyes.

He excused himself off the table politely, leaving you all alone and speechless. You glued your eyes to his back until he exited through the door, begging silently that he would turn around and say something else. Something that would pull you back into his life.

It seemed like that wasn’t his plan.

“I know I shouldn’t look for you for sexual stuff, but can I contact you for friend stuff?”

The text arrived that Saturday at 1am, 5 days later, erasing any progress you had done.

The day of his usual drunken nights.

Right around the time he used to get bored and there wasn't anything left to smoke.

Exactly at the time he would always contact you.

And you?

You were still at the restaurant. Unable to move.

Every day since that day.

Right where he left you.

#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #star wars #sw anakin #anakin #anakin skywalker smut #fanfic #anakin au #anakin x reader #anakin x you #angst #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker blog #tcw anakin #situationships

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xtreklx · 2 years ago

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Nicknames ~ Ninja Turtles x reader

Headcanon: bayverse Turtles x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: SFW, fluff, slightly mature themes (rated 17+, see my masterlist for disclaimer)

A/N: some silly headcanons I thought up about what nicknames the turtles would use for their partners. lemme know ur thoughts 🤭 enjoy!!!

__________

~ Leonardo ~

imo Leo is not suuuuper into nicknames, but he will use some. just nothing too over-the-top for this turtle in blue

he's not a huge PDA guy in general, but he knows that you think it's super cute when he's affectionate

so using a sweet nickname for you is one of the ways in which he is publicly affectionate

his favorite name to call you is "princess" because let's be real, this man is 100% treating you as such

"hey Lee, could you do ___ for me?" "anything for you, princess."

but he will also call you things like: love, beautiful, gorgeous, etc.

because he always wants you to know how much he cherishes and loves you

examples are as follows:

"hey beautiful, how did work go today?"

"are you hungry, gorgeous?"

"I'm gonna go meditate, love. would you like to join?"

just as he cares for his brothers in an almost parental way, he's very nurturing and attentive with you

and he definitely tends to talk to you with a soft voice because you're his delicate and precious flower and he just wants to protect you alwayssssss🥹

you tend to refer to him by his full name, "Leo", or just "Lee"

but he LOVES when you call him handsome, so that's definitely your go-to

it makes him feel like he's the only man on your mind, which is 100% the case, but he loves the reassurance

you'll also use "love" back at him, or "honey", or "babe".

ever the romantic, one of his guilty pleasures is when you answer the phone, greet him, or wake up next to him with a "hey, stranger"

that has his heart fluttering and his face flushing every time he hears it

all in all, he's not a super showy guy, but will take such good care of you and do whatever you need to make you feel loved, and you just want to do the same for him

~ Raphael ~

okay this man is big into nicknames, and I know this is a fact so I am not taking criticism at this time!!!! like, tell me I'm wrong. you can't!!!!

he has a bank of nicknames for you that he uses to come off as cool, flirty, and witty

trustttttt that these are what he uses in public to show his relationship off to his family and friends

he definitely used these nicknames w you before you two started dating as a way to flirt or pick on you (🤭)

because he'll be using these nicknames if he's being sarcastic or facetious

^and these nicknames are: dollface, shorty, tiger, and sweetheart (again I am not taking criticism at this time! I am simply spitting facts)

examples:

if he's training you in the dojo: "you got yer work cut out for ya, shorty."

every time he greets you (or after a hello kiss): "hey there, dollface."

if he sees that you are getting annoyed: "woooah, easy there, tiger."

if you're starting to get on his nerves: "aight, listen here, sweetheart--"

HOWEVER, in more intimate moments with this guy, he can be a lot more tender, and you'll catch him using names like: baby, doll, or babygirl

"baby, if I ever lost ya, I don't know what I'd do."

"thanks for listenin', doll."

"come lay with me, babygirl."

at the end of the day, you are the light in the darkness for him, and he is going to make it known to you

as for how you refer to him, you tend to go with either more complimentary nicknames ("big guy" or "big boy", "hot stuff" or "hot shot", etc.) or more jokey nicknames ("hothead", "meanie", or "Raphie")

but secretly, Raph's guilty pleasure is the sound of your voice as you say his name (😉), because it's just a constant reminder that you are his person, a dream come true

and you are aware of this fact, so you like to use it to your advantage

if he's in the middle of something and you need his attention, you know that saying "Raphael," in a low voice and beckoning him with your finger is going to have him dropping everything and sprinting to you

he may act all big and mean, but deep down he's a huge simp <3

~ Donatello ~

like his oldest brother, Donatello is not huge into nicknames

I would argue that Donnie is probably the least likely to use a nickname with his partner

I think this is because tbh you are the most special person in the world to him, so your name is already his most favorite word on the planet!

what better way to describe his special person than with the most special word?

just like he does with his brothers, he's going to repeat your name over and over again when he wants to show you something, but you find it much more endearing than annoying

when he does use a nickname with you, it will be something short and sweet, like honey or darling or sunshine ✨(edit: OHMYGOD U GUYS I forgot abt dove!!! this is something he 100% uses. too cute!!!)

examples:

"hey honey, I fixed your computer screen for you!"

"just five more minutes, dove, I promise"

"do you think I'm a geek?" "no, but I think you're a dork." "thank you, darling."

"I love when you keep me company, sunshine. as the name suggests, you brighten my days!"

he repeats the last one all the time, but even though it's cheesy, it makes you giggle every time

if you're ever feeling especially down, he'll softly sing the "you are my sunshine" song to comfort you and make you smile. it never fails, and his voice isn't that bad!

similarly, you don't have a ton of nicknames for him either, but you will use honey back to him

and you'll call him "cutie" because you know it will make him flush immediately

ESPECIALLY around his brothers. if they hear you call Donnie a cutie, they will tease him about it to no end

he gets all flustered and acts annoyed, but he secretly loves the nickname.

like Raph, Donnie loves to hear you say his name. it fills him with a sense of pride, knowing that you're his partner in crime. or, as he likes to phrase it, partner in science😎

he will never tell you, but one of his guilty pleasures is when you sternly say "Donatello," as you scold him for working too hard

after you've finished scolding him, he'll let the smile break out on his face and pull you in for a big hug

you always do your best to take care of him and show him how much you love him, so he'll always try to do the same for you

~ Michelangelo ~

as we all know, Michelangelo is BIG into nicknames. definitely the most likely of the turtles to use nicknames with his partner. this is definitely an inarguable fact

he has probably called you every name under the sun; every name that his brain can come up with

his most-used are definitely: sweet cheeks, angel cakes (of course!!!), babygirl, little mama, and babe

but he will also use things like: honey bun, sugar, hot stuff, angel face, love bug, cutie patootie, ohmygod the list goes on and on.

it's almost like a game he plays with himself, attempting to fit a new nickname for you into each sentence

examples:

on the phone with you: "are you coming down to the lair today, angel cakes? ... wellllllllll, do you think you could bring some pizza with you, little mama? extra cheese? ... pleeeeEEEAaaaSE my gorgeous sugar-bear honey-bun sweetie-pie?"

his brothers, overhearing him on the phone: "SHUT UP, MIKEY!!"

you watching him break dance: "see my sick moves, sweet cheeks? this skill is all for you, baby girl!"

him being needy: "babe, can you just come to bed? come be my little love bug! I'll give you a massage?"

he may annoy his brothers but he could never annoy you, and you always gave into his sweetness

you were not quite as creative with nicknames as he was, but you still have a few up your sleeve

like his two oldest brothers, Mikey loved when you called him "handsome" or "big guy/boy". it makes him feel like a badass being called those things by his beautiful, attractive partner

"are you gonna walk me home, handsome?" "you really think you can beat me in mario kart? you're on, big boy." ohmygoooood, he's weak in the knees!!!!

you'll also refer to him as "babe" or "baby" on the regular, the second of which his brothers also tease him for

"awe, little Mikey's just a baby. ain't that cute?" Raph always comments, laughing with Leo in the corner

but Mikey didn't give a rat's ass (sorry Splinter). he loves showing off your relationship and bragging about you, especially to his friends and family.

you are easily the greatest thing to ever happen to him. and not only that, but you are a total babe! he scored big time.

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90ekz · 1 year ago

Note

ive head this nagging thought in the back of my head that satoru has some kinda random spot on his body that’ll make him instantly pop a bone. I DONT KNOW JUST WORK WITH ME HERE PLS 🙏 i love your works btw 😘

✧ sweet spot, ft. satoru gojo

✧ tags: mostly fluff, whiny satoru, ‘baby’ as a nickname, did i say mostly fluff already??, dry humping, overstim, loser satoru cs he’s mushy and in love

✧ an: this idea is now living in my head and not paying rent, thanks a lot anon :/

satoru usually just does his own hair care, and he’s very meticulous about it. he wants everything to be clean and pristine—not that you weren’t capable of doing that for him, he’s just very, very dramatic. he didn’t even know this spot was sensitive until… literally now.

he’s standing in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his growing undercut. he figured it was time for him to cut it anyway, but his arms were very sore from some training he’d done with the kids yesterday.

“babe.”

“y’esh?” he chuckled at your mouthful of the minty paste, and just waited for you to finish brushing. when you finally did, you turned to face him as he brushed his thumb over the white pooling on the corner of your mouth.

“can you cut my hair today? ‘arms are so sore.” satoru whined, his finger still tracing your lip lazily.

“have you washed it? i don’t need your lice transferring to me—ouch! okay, okay, plug in the clippers!” you giggled as he pinched your lip. the clippers rested on his side of the sink, and he plugged them in wordlessly. you stood behind him, lightly brushing the area with the small brush you know is the most comfortable for him. satoru sighs lightly as you do this, and his shoulders relax.

he didn’t know exactly what it was, but your hands felt different than his. you made him so sensitive usually anyway, but this was weird. his cheeks were heating, and everything was tingling, not just his neck.

and then you did it.

the clippers worked in upward strokes as you trimmed the hair down, and suddenly your thumb brushed over some magical pressure point of his. satoru felt pleasure shoot down his spine like he never had before, and a almost girly squeak slipped out before he could stop it. your eyes go wide and you remove the clippers from his neck. satoru is deathly still, and you watched color bloom over his cheeks in the mirror.

“…you okay sato’?” the nickname drips off your tongue like honey—so effortless, so intimate, and he hates that you decided to use it right now. he can’t take it. you’ve never called him that, and he can hear the amused tilt in your voice.

satoru gulps, because he doesn’t know what to say. how does he say that he wants you to keep going, to keep brushing over that exact spot so he can pinpoint exactly what that feeling was just now? he’s never felt anything like that when he cut his own hair…

he settles on a weak little “i’m fine, baby,” because frankly? he doesn’t trust himself to say any other words right now.

you give him a little smile in the mirror before your hands start working again, and you finally start getting somewhere with actually cutting his damn hair. he doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary happen anymore, and now he’s finally cleanly shaven again like he likes. you did an exceptional job, and satoru peppers you with kisses as a reward.

he mostly stops thinking about it after this.

yeah, maybe the thought lingers in the back of his head for a few hours after, and maybe he stands in the bathroom rubbing his thumb over the back of his neck for a little longer than considered normal, but it was fine.

except for when you call him down to finish watching the movie you’d started earlier, and he’s laying on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair. satoru isn’t even paying attention to what your hand is doing as he yaps about the plot of the film, and you listen.

“he’s a piece of shit! i mean, he stayed with his side piece on the plane, and made his wife drive in the snow? fuck mike ‘till it’s backwards.” satoru spits, his attention fully focused on the movie’s plot.

unlike you, who’s mind was still in the bathroom, cutting satoru’s hair.

you haven’t stopped thinking about the little noise he’d made as you’d accidentally pressed your finger over the nape of his neck, right where the hair started. he sounded so weak—so vulnerable, and you decided right then that you needed to hear much more of that.

your mind was now solely focused on one thing, and your hand was moving just as it was in the bathroom. you twirled your fingers around strands, until finally threading your fingers through his hair and giving a small tug. this tore a stuttered breath out of satoru, and you smiled. he’d gone a little more rigid against you, and his commentary had stopped as you payed so much attention to him. he was losing focus of the movie, too.

“b-babe,”

“hmm?” you hummed back, fingers now traveling from his hair to his lower neck, tracing small circles there. you knew what you were looking for, but why not tease a little first?

satoru couldn’t answer you if he tried—every word in his throat dies as you press down onto that spot once more, and he’s slamming his hand on-top of yours to make sure you don’t move it. he isn’t sure why he does that exactly, but why does it matter? why does anything matter when you’re touching him like this?

he can’t do this, just one press on his spot has his dick rising and stiff against your thigh, and even you can hardly believe it.

“sato.” you grip his hair to pull him off your chest, just enough to look at you. he whines from the mixture of the nickname and the sting of his scalp.

“b-baby, please.” satoru breathes. you know what he’s asking for, and you figured you’d done enough teasing for a while. you grin, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the pressure point back and forth, up and down, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he came just from this based on the sounds he was making. he hovers you, his arms barely holding his body up, and he’s heaving into your neck.

“breathe, satoru.”

“mmph—i will! i will, just please don’t stop,” satoru whines, his hips grinding down against your thigh. sure, this whole thing is embarrassing as hell, but he couldn’t help the cheeky grin that stretched across his face as you indulged him. as you ran your acrylics over the sensitive part of him, he dropped his head back into your shoulders, and his own started to shake violently.

he was laughing.

you were shocked by this, but you didn’t dare stop. at some point, you couldn’t help but snort a little as he grasped onto you. it was cute—the way his giggles melted into moans, the way he couldn’t control himself or his emotions in the moment. there were no coherent thoughts forming in his head except for fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

and you loved it that way.

#gojo x black reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #black reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru x black y/n #gojou satoru x you #satoru smut #syno’s picks 💌#this idea is so funny to me #imagine just lightly touching the back of his neck bc you just like doing that and you’re a physical person and he just moans like LMAO #this also kinda goes into my touch starved gojo agenda but that’s a later convo 🫡

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call-me-strega · 16 days ago

Text

How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps: chp. 7 (Interlude: Life According to Ellie)

first, prev, next, lore, ao3

~~~

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for a peak at the world through Ellie's eyes.

In which I take liberties with canon and give you a peak at Ellie's backstory.

~~~

Her earliest memories include floating.

Back when she couldn't open her eyes just yet and understand she was in a vat of liquid.

Those days are hazy. She doesn't remember much from them. Not that there was much to remember in the first place.

The most she has of that time are these cloudy impressions of a man's voice, disappointed and begrudging.

Awareness slowly crept into her, her mind filled with basic data copied over from her blueprint. Although she didn't know it at the time, her barely functioning mind wondered if that floating feeling was how it felt to fly.

She knows now that the freeing sensation of flying is not quite the same.

But a small part of her loves taking baths and going swimming. She likes to lean back, her ears submerged muffling the world, and her limbs slightly fanned out.

Sometimes, if she closes her eyes and slows her breath, she can call back that floating sensation from when everything was easy because she wasn't enough of a person to know how hard the world could be.

She remembers how nice he'd been at first.

He held her by the shoulders and gave her first name: Danielle.

He taught her everything she knew about the world: science, mechanics, ecto-biology, and all the things in her head she couldn't explain like NASA or school.

He told her place in the world: by his side. Her role was to be there for him. She was to support him, and in turn, he'd take care of her.

She was meant to be his family.

He said she was his daughter. Told her to call him dad.

And she did.

She believed it when he said he cared. She thought it was like those impressions of emotions that carried over from her blueprint. (A man who made mistakes, who was scary at times, but ultimately, who cared.)

In hindsight, maybe that's why it hurt so much when she realized it was a lie.

She remembers her intimate familiarity with death.

It was more than just a part of her nature. It was a constant presence.

She remembers how he used to invite her to help him in the lab. How he'd trust her to push buttons or hold important materials. She remembers how she watched helplessly as he spent countless nights in frustration, trying and failing again and again to create another clone.

A brother for her, he claimed.

She watched him face loss after loss. Growing increasingly desperate after each new attempt dissolved away in bubbles of green. The first time she'd seen it happen she'd felt sick to her stomach. She'd wanted to cry, but he had needed her more then. So she let him train her, get his frustrations out with a spar.

It would reassure him, he had said, if he could ensure she could protect herself. That she was stronger than her brothers. That she could beat anyone who got in his their way.

She remembers sitting in front of the cloning chambers after he'd gone back up for the night and finally crying. Letting herself silently grieve all the brothers she would never know.

Perhaps it was that frustration that led her to believe that the panic he had shown the first time she began destabilizing was genuine concern.

Perhaps that's why she believed him when he said the only way to save her was with DNA samples from her blueprint: Daniel.

Danielle remembers meeting Daniel, or rather Danny, for the first time. At first, he'd been confused, troubled, by her presence. But despite his frustrations, he was kind. He listened to her. They shared a kinship she'd only imagined having before with her brothers.

He gave her a nickname to match his own: Dani

She remembers thinking how he was everything.

Danny was her cure. Her blueprint. Her namesake. Her key to finally having a stable brother. The origin of all the thoughts and feelings she didn't quite understand. The embodiment of all that he had wanted her to be and a reminder of everything she wasn't.

And after being double-crossed and tossed aside, Danny somehow became even more.

Her "cousin".

Her savior.

Her liberator.

Her protector.

Perhaps one of the only two people in the world who genuinely cared for her at the time.

She remembers how much he cared. All the ways he tried to protect her.

The way he let her go.

Let her fly off into the night because he knew she needed to find herself. To be untethered. To experience the world and learn. To never be chained or used like that again because something deep within her would not allow it. He wanted her to stay but let her go.

She remembers his promise to always be there for her.

And she believed him.

She's glad she did.

Dani has memories of traveling the world.

Of exotic locales and exciting adventures.

She remembers the hunger and loneliness that came with independence. The nights she sought out shelter or aid and the cruelty of those who denied it to her. She remembers the faces of strangers who'd lean on each other because they had to but would leave in an instant for something better.

But she also remembers the joy of freedom. The kindness of strangers whose hearts were bigger than their budgets. Those who gave freely without expecting anything in return. Of families forged by experience who often offered her a place to return to.

She often turned them down. She already had a place to return to if she ever wished.

Danny reached out to check on her from time to time. So did Val and the others. They kept her updated. She remembers feeling a surging warmth in her chest each time they assured Dani they kept space for her in their lives.

She remembers visiting on the day they assigned her birthday (Danny's half birthday). She recalls getting a phone to stay in touch and a camera to take photos. She remembers getting hugs, and cake, and an offer to live with Jazz or Danny at one of their places.

She remembers feeling loved.

She remembers when she stopped hearing from Danny briefly. She decided to go back for a visit. To check on her family them.

She remembers that's when things changed.

She remembers being angry.

The Idiots in White had been bothering Danny for a while now. He'd been successfully avoiding them at every turn, undermining their operations, and keeping both civilians and ghosts safe. Ugh- why did these guys have to plague them so much?

She remembers being disappointed in herself.

How could she have let them get a jump on her? Those two-bit losers weren't good for much except destruction. Figures they'd resorted to ambushing her in a forest. Another thing she'd inherited from Danny was his inability to let things lie, so when she heard a cry from the forest she decided to check it out.

It had been a trap.

The wails had been from some poor ectopus they'd been torturing with a ghost trap. When she'd gone to free it, they jumped out and hit her from behind with their weapons. She recalls one of them saying they'd been hoping to catch Phantom, but she'd do. Through all her anger and annoyance a small part of her was relieved.

'At least Danny was safe' she remembered thinking.

When she woke up, Dani was in a small box of a containment unit that was keeping her in ghost form.

She remembers being scared.

She couldn't turn back. She was stuck. They refused to give her food. Dani was dead, they said. An ectoplasmic being that wasn't even truly sentient. What was the use of wasting food on her when she should be able to sustain herself with ectoplasm?

But she's not a full ghost.

Heck- she's not even a proper halfa!

She's a clone, a Mirrorborn.

She can't generate enough ecto without supplemental energy from an outside source. Usually, that'd be food, another ecto-entity, heck even a particularly ecto-dense area like Amity. But she didn't have any of those things right now.

She only had herself.

She remembers cursing her faulty biology. Danny wouldn't have these problems, nor would any full ghost. Staying in her ghost form ate up her energy faster than she could create ectoplasm to sustain herself while trapped in this cell. She couldn't even use her powers to try and escape it would drain her too fast. At this rate she'd- she'd destabilize again.

She remembered trying to reassure herself. Val knew she had been coming, she'd know something was up when Dani didn't check in. She'd tell the others. Her family Danny and his friends would come looking for her.

She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked herself, the way she used to on those nights alone in the lab, muttering to herself that they would come.

She remembers growing weaker. Feeling sluggish and heavy as her body began to droop. Her sagging skin turned gray and green as she slowly lost sensation in her limbs. Then, just as the panic and despair began to set in, she heard the alarms and loud crashes.

She remembers the surge of emotion that coursed through her as voices approached. Two unknowns, one that belonged to him, and one more.

She remembers the flood of relief she felt.

It was Danny.

He had come for her. He'd teamed up with whoever he needed to in order to come get her. He was there.

She remembered his voice: Hard with an icy rage, trembling with fear for her, yet confident and reassuring, telling her it would be alright.

She had believed him.

Perhaps that's why even as his eyes grew wild, even as he desperately called her name Dani? Dani! Danielle, come on! Keep your eyes open! Just keep them open Dani- please! Please, Dani! DANIELLE! ELLIE! she still let her eyes fall closed.

Because she trusted him.

She remembers thinking how, even with an ice core, Danny's arms were so warm.

She remembers trying to reach out a melting hand, her destabilization only partially slowed thanks to ecto-dejecto, to caress his cheek. Using the last of her energy to pry her eyes open and give him her patented mischievous smile. She had tried to comfort him.

Dani remembers her last words to him: "Thank you."

Thank you for coming. Thank you for being so warm. Thank you for crying for me. Thank you for caring.

Thank you.

For allowing Dani's last moments to be filled with love.

Danny held a small orb weakly glowing a pale blue color. He clutched it to his torso as tears burned down his skin like acid. He phased the orb into his chest, nestling it close to his heart. He turned in a feral rage towards the agents rushing up behind him. His grief-filled eyes were glowing a toxic green. His canines elongated into fangs that curled into a snarl. His aching hands willed his gloves to become gauntlets that accommodated piercingly sharp claws. His aura grew cold enough to burn. He tilted his head back(this wasn't the first time he'd done it). He took a deep breath, (and he'd do it a thousand more for her). And then, Phantom Wailed.

She doesn't remember retreating into her core.

But she does remember being inside of it.

She remembers calloused hands that held her close.

She remembers a gentle voice singing her lullabies.

She remembers soft lips that kiss her carefully.

She remembers a familiar warm embrace, their cores vibrating in harmony.

She remembers the whispers that give her her next name: Ellie.

She's Ellie now.

She slowly grew stronger and she remembered all the things Dani knew. She looked over her knowledge and memories and then thought back to the man who cared for her so diligently. Maybe Dani hadn't known. Or maybe she had and had been scared to acknowledge it.

But she was Ellie now.

Dani knew that Danny could be scary. That Danny made mistakes. That Danny tried to be there for her in whatever ways he could. That he undeniably cared for her.

And as Ellie mulled over this knowledge, she came to a conclusion.

'This,' she realized. 'This is what a real father is like.'

And when she had finally regained enough strength to emerge from her core, albeit with her mind and body now matching the age of her core, the first thing she did was seek him.

The first word she spoke as Ellie, her arms out stretched toward him, unmistakable glee in her voice, had been,

"Daddy!"

Danny held her the young girl who'd called out to him. She was so small. Smaller than she'd been before. Her mind was younger too. But, Danny? He was older now. He had some money now. He had independence from his parents and had reliable allies, both in the Realms and in the mortal plane now. So as he held this young girl in his arms, one who reach for him and called him her daddy, he made a resolution. 'This time,' he promised himself. 'This time I'll take care of you.'

Ellie's father had a lot to do even after she woke up. She stayed with Frosty in the Far Frozen while he, Sammy, Tuck, Jazz, and Val dealt with some legal matters in the mortal plane.

Ellie would sometimes get visitors, like the young-old boy-man who smelled like ozone and the old guy with the smokey aura that helped her dad rescue her. When she was a little better her father would take her with him. Sometimes they'd go back to Amity, other times he'd leave her with a sitter while he was off doing some sort of research. She spent time learning about the realms with them. Pandy, Dora, Frosty, and Clockpa were her favorites.

Then one day her dad introduced her to a new ghost, someone she'd never met before.

She was a Neverborn.

A City Spirit.

She was a tall woman. Her hair was an inky black bob that just brushed the string of pearls around her neck. Her skin was a splattery mix of black and white. She wore leather armor around her chest with a bat emblazoned on it. Attached to her shoulders was a short asymmetric cape that's right side ended near her thigh while the left stopped just below her hip. On her lower half, she wore a black sheath skirt with a slit in the side coming just above her knee. It's fabric had a slight multicolored sheen to it, almost reminiscent of an oil spill or a crow's feathers. These were joined at her hips by an art deco belt of interlocking diamonds attached to a buckle with a beautiful geometric design, that had numerous firearms attached to it. In her hands, she held a pike, one longer than Pandora's xyston spear. Her aura was one that was old and well acquainted with misery, yet she felt almost motherly.

She introduced herself as Lady Gotham and offered them tea.

Dad explained that he wanted them to live in Lady Gotham's city. Gotham was rich in both ectoplasm and magic, which would help sustain her even when did wasn't around. Her aura was near ancient and could mask theirs for at least a decade or two. She could protect them, hide them. She could offer them a safe place to live their lives.

She told them her qualifications. She was a well-established spirit in the realms with centuries of experience governing her haunt and exerting power over the mortal plane while still in the Realms. She had layers of protections, including a reputation most mortals wouldn't dare trifle with. Additionally, she had several Knights protecting her mortal haunt, all of varying liminality. Her greatest pride resting in one of the legends Ellie had grown fond of. (Ghosts were prolific storytellers and notorious gossips.)

The tale of Gotham's Red Prince was well known within the realms. One of her knights, whom she loved like a son, resurrected a revenant. As an Avenger. Gotham's claim on him was the strongest among her knights and her love for him was just as great. Many a denizen of the realms has heard of his drive to avenge the unavenged, to bring justice and peace. Many admire him greatly. In fact, Ellie's pretty sure Sidney and GW are part of his fan club.

Danny had also done his own research on the city, he explained to her. Once he had deemed it acceptable and shared his findings with the others. After receiving a seal of approval from the rest of Team Phantom he had come to her.

It would be her home too, her dad said. She deserved a say in it.

Ellie looked back at Lady Gotham once. Then, at the research and photos. And then, she looked back to her dad and nodded.

She believed Gotham could become a home, she told him.

Ellie remembers that the first few days were hectic.

Dad was running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything in order. They went shopping, Dad got his job, they moved in with help from Auntie Jazz and Uncle Tuck. Auntie Sammy and Auntie Val couldn't leave Amity unprotected so only the two of them had been there. Auntie Jazz had helped Dad organize and Uncle Tuck set up their documents and security system. They both had to go back after a few days though, each having their own respective internships to get back to.

Ellie was happy though. She got her own room, she already made friends with a nice girl named Sasha, and the air here tasted a bit spicy with all the magic and ecto mixing together.

It was nice. She and her dad finally felt normal.

Ellie remembers meeting Jason for the first time.

They'd been living in Gotham for about a week so far. Daddy was on the phone, talking to him, while trying to open the door when they both sense an ecto-entity enter the hall. A prominent aura filled the hall. It's presence was commanding, but it felt comforting too like fire and wood smoke. It held a sense of rightness and Ellie could tell it was probably whatever ecto-entity had claimed the Haunt nearby.

She looked down the hall and her eyes met a pair of blue-green eyes. She looked curiously at the man, quickly realizing he was at the center of the aura that fluctuated with emotion in reaction to her dad's conversation.

A revenant, she concluded. A tad surprised they had run into one so quickly.

And then they kept running into him.

And Ellie couldn't help but think he was pretty great.

Jason always made yummy food for them. He was strong and picked her up easily. He always listened when she was talking and even asked questions. He played with her and read to her and made her feel better when she was sad.

Ellie remembered the day her dad had collapsed and how scared she'd been. She remembers the scary look on his face when he had come to get them. But he wanted to help, he had come. So she called him her uncle, that way Sasha's mom would let him through. She remembers how he'd taken them home and looked after her and her dad. She remembers feeling something warm grow in her chest as he awkwardly agreed to her claims that she'd move in with him.

She remembers how he sat next to her in the hall the day she locked herself out. How he comforted her and told her about the mistakes he made too. It had made her feel better. If someone as cool and nice as Jason made mistakes, then maybe it was okay. Maybe she wasn't a failure.

Now, as Ellie lays in her bed, she thinks back to tonight. She thinks about the gift Jason gave her.

Maybe he thought it was just a pencil case but to Ellie it was proof.

Proof of how nice Jason was. Proof he listened and knew she liked aircrafts. Proof he thought of them even when they weren't around. Proof the he cared. Cared enough to do something like this without needing to be asked.

She smiled into her pillow and thought back to her dad's smile. Recently she noticed the different smiles she barely saw before making their way onto her dad's face. She saw them a lot more now when Jason was around. If Jason made her dad happy, then she was glad to keep seeing more of him. She was happy to be able to claim him as family.

She clutched her blanket tight, and she allowed herself to drift off, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't mind if one day she could call him something other than her uncle.

~~~

That all for now folks! No pressing notices but please feel free to hit me up in the comments. I welcome feedback and constructive criticism!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #how to become a step-dad #hbsd #HBSD #dead on main #ellie fenton #kid ellie #ellie-centric chapter #interlude #whats in a name #ellie has had a lot of names #jason todd #danny fenton

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lunarfleur · 2 years ago

Text

Earth 42! Miles Morales Datings Hcs

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin

Warnings:Mentions of his job as the prowler

A/N: I’m literally in love with him help

This is x gender neutral reader!

This boy is not your sugar daddy. Be fr.

Does he have extra cash? Yeah.

But he’s not your sugar daddy. That is a child.

He’s honestly not that different from Earth 1610! Miles, he’s just been through a lot more shit

He’s still a dork, deep down.

But let’s get the inevitabilities out of the way

Spanish nicknames, for sure. I don’t speak Spanish, but it’d just be the ones everyone in the community thinks he would use 😭

As well as baby and babe.

This boy is a hugger in every universe

He would never openly say, “I need a hug.” But, he’d pull you in or bury his face in your neck

It gets the point across

I think for both versions of Miles, he keeps his room clean for you

His mom always gets on him for it, so it’s just habit to have his room clean

Picking up any and all dirty clothes, vacuuming, dusting, that kind of thing.

It’s typically clean anyways, but he makes sure it’s as clean as possible for you

Movie nights whenever he doesn’t get called into work. You’re tucked against him. One arm is around your shoulder, the other hand is rested comfortably on your thigh.

This boy loves loves loves forehead kisses, both giving and receiving

A lot of times he gives them as apologies

He couldn’t make a date, so he’s kissing your forehead after kissing your lips and apologizing so so genuinely

But you give him one? He’s dying.

You’re in his lap, and you just *mwah?*

He’s a goner

Let’s be honest, he’s young and in love. You make him excited.

Make out sessions are both common and enjoyable

He knows not to take too far, of course, but he can’t help but love on you

But make outs are never for public

He’s not ashamed of PDA, but he doesn’t think anyone else should see something so intimate.

But he’ll kiss you, hold your hand, leave his arm around your shoulders, and basically all the other toned down displays of affection

The only people that are afraid of him are the ones who have caused problems with him

He’s lived in New York all his life. A lot of kids know him. A lot of kids know that he just changed after he lost his dad

The ignorant ones start fights with him. The ignorant ones lose fights with him.

Because this boy can scrap

He’s not really some big, bad bully who runs his school or whatever

He sticks to being a loner, with the exception of you.

He still maintains good grades and behavior and all that

He doesn’t really get in trouble for fighting because he’s never the one who starts it

It’s self defense, you know?

There’s only 3 people in his life that he genuinely cares about: You, his mom, and his uncle.

Of course, he wants you to meet them

So he brings you home one day

And, luckily for you, they’re both easy to get along with

But he’s okay with not meeting your family

If you don’t want him to, he doesn’t have to

Fights with him go one of two ways, depending on the severity of the situation.

A:It’s a very serious, tense discussion. He doesn’t put any distance between you two, maybe holding your hand or keeping his knee touching yours. He speaks carefully and he listens to you.

This Miles doesn’t yell. Not at you, not at his mom, basically never.

B: You two give each other space. He makes sure you’re home safely, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead, before giving both of you time to calm down and think everything over.

And then once you two are ready, you talk things over and he apologizes. This leads to soft make outs and/or cuddles.

But we all know he’s The Prowler

He’s not a villain, necessarily. He doesn’t kill people for the fun of it. He kills people who deserve it. Criminals, people who have genuinely hurt others.

He didn’t wait too long to tell you, actually.

It was only a month or two.

He liked you, genuinely, and it shocked him to his core. He knew his job would put distance between you two. He didn’t want that. Miles wanted things with you to go right.

He told you cautiously, and made sure to explain what he did and why.

It made sense, it really did. And he made sure to keep you away from it all.

It was hard to handle at first, but eventually you came to terms with it.

He was honestly terrified that you’d be scared of him. He’s still a kid, remember.

Sometimes, he gets called in and can’t make a date.

But Miles hates it and makes damn good sure he makes it up to you

He keeps tabs of everything he’s missed

He’s a sweetheart, honestly.

He gives you things, like gifts and his clothes and full access to his room

And he’s always making sure you’re in the best of moods

You’re crying? He’s doing everything he can to fix it.

Miles isn’t a bad boyfriend, it just takes some time to understand him.

#across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales

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mayajadewrites · 11 months ago

Text

but does he know?

pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader

rating: explicit, minors dni

summary: levi is your toxic ex boyfriend. you've been dating someone new, jean, who you've been having a great time with. but he's no levi ackerman, which leads to bad decisions.

warnings: toxic af, infidelity (don't try this at home pls), unprotected sex, oral (male & female receiving), slight phone sex

song to listen to while reading: moth to a flame; swedish house mafia with the weeknd

comments + reblogs are always appreciated, they make my entire day actually hehe

ao3

"Goodnight, Jean." You smile as your cheek leans against the glass of your touchscreen. You and your boyfriend, Jean, have been on the phone for 2 hours. You're laying down on your stomach on your bed, legs crossed above your ass.

"Goodnight my angel. See you tomorrow. Can't wait." Jean spoke with a yawn. You can tell he's tired from his long day of work, but he adores talking to you at the end of his day.

You press 'end' and begin to scroll through your photos. You're nowhere near tired - you are somewhat of an insomniac.

Your eyes glaze over the pictures you and Jean took together last weekend, his lips on your cheek as you smile ear to ear.

As you scroll a little farther, your eyes flicker to a photo of you and your ex boyfriend, Levi. You must've forgotten to delete it after you broke up. Your cheeks burned as you looked at the photo - it's one of the many you took when you were intimate with each other.

You're both sat in front of the mirror, you're sitting on his lap as his legs spread on the chair he's on.

Levi's eyes were glued onto your figure, his right hand gripping your thick, plush thigh, his left hand wrapped around the front of your neck. You're holding the phone to take the picture, you're wearing your favorite baby pink lingerie set, that just so happened to also be Levi's favorite.

You close your eyes when you remember how your ass felt against his hard cock against the fabric of his pants.

No, no, no. You can't miss him.

He's the most toxic man you've ever dealt with in your life. You gave 2 years of your life, of yourself to him and for what? For him to tell you he never wanted to get married, never wanted to have kids.

You couldn't hold onto what you wish he was. So, the relationship ended.

A deep sigh left your lips as you scrolled through your contacts, hoping you deleted Levi's number.

Of course you didn't. Because this isn't the first time you've wanted to call Levi late at night.

There he was.

No emoji next to his name like before, no silly nickname.

Simply, Levi.

Your thumb hovered over his name. You knew he was awake. He was always awake when you were.

Are you proud of what you've been doing? Talking behind your boyfriends back to your ex boyfriend? No.

But there's something about Levi that you could not let go of. Every time you spoke to him, you deleted it from your call log and any lingering texts.

1:22 AM.

Calling 📞 ... Levi.

1 ring was all it took.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Levi's voice purred at the other end of the phone.

"Couldn't sleep." You mumbled, sitting up on your bed. You crossed your legs as you spoke.

"You haven't even tried to sleep, have you baby?"

You ignored he pet name. "...Maybe."

"So what can I do to help you sleep, hm?" You heard Levi's chair move, presumably as he sat on it. "Over the phone, at least."

"I just wanted someone to talk to."

"Your boyfriend wasn't available?"

"He went to bed already. He had a long day."

"Poor thing." Sarcasm was leaking from his tone. "Having to have a job and deal with your ass."

"He deals with me just fine, thank you." You turn your head to the side. "If he was here, he would've taken care of me already."

"So why isn't he there? Is it a school night?"

"He's not that much younger than you, Levi."

"You didn't answer my question."

"We just didn't hang out tonight. That's all."

"You used to be at my place every night."

"That's because you and I had an unhealthy attachment to each other. Codependency on my end, at least."

"Your spot on the bed is still there. Sometimes I let my hand wander to that side and feel the contours of the shape your body left."

"L-Levi." You sit up on your bed, feeling a familiar heat rise through your body.

"Say my name again, princess." His voice was husky, you closed your eyes so you could picture his mouth moving. You could almost feel his touch through the phone.

"No. I can't." You bite down on your bottom lip, refusing to give in to the temptation. His voice was so familiar, so warm.

"Hasn't stopped you before, has it?"

You stay silent, squeezing your thighs together in attempt to silence your needy cunt.

"I know she misses me." You heard Levi shift in where he was sitting, presumably spreading his legs.

If your pussy could talk, she'd be screaming at you right about now.

"She misses the way I caress her, the way I devour every last drop, the way I-"

"Enough, Levi." You couldn't take it anymore. You had Jean in your head, he would be so disappointed if he knew you were doing this.

But it's Levi.

Your dainty hand palmed over the fabric of your teeny-tiny shorts, so sensitive you almost moaned at your own touch.

"Sounds like you don't want me to stop. I know you're touching yourself right now."

"Are you?" Your curiosity got the best of you.

"I am. I'm picturing your beautiful hand wrapped around my cock, your lips sucking on the tip the way you always do-" He pulled the phone away from his mouth, grunting as he pumped his own cock.

"L-levi." You pushed your hand inside your shorts, pushing one finger inside your soaked cunt. "I-I need you." You whine as you add another finger.

"I'm right here, baby."

"No. I need you here."

"Give me 10 minutes."

You brush your hair right after you hang up. You look at yourself in the mirror. Is this really you? Are you gonna do this to Jean?

The answer to your question walked through your door.

"You still have a key?" You walked out of your bathroom in your low cut tank top and barely there shorts.

"I made copies, and copies of copies." Your eyes ran up and down Levi's body, he's wearing a (freshly ironed?) black expensive looking sweatsuit, his hair a bit damp. He must've showered quick.

You moved to his half lidded steel grey eyes - which looked like they were drunk off of your figure. You're not skinny, you have meat on you which Levi always appreciated. You had thick thighs that lead to your plush ass, then your soft stomach and supple tits.

You both stared at each other for a few moments, not sure if this is real or not. You took a deep breath in, the scent of his eucalyptus shampoo filling your nostrils.

Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump.

Your heartbeat was pounding in your ear.

Levi slipped his hands into his pockets, letting you know that the ball is in your court.

Slowly, you take a step toward him and press your hands to his chest. You can feel his muscles through his hoodie, all too familiar to you.

Levi watched as you touched him, almost like it was your first time again. Your nails dragged along his chest to his biceps, to which you gave them a squeeze.

Your eyes met his and it was done.

You pushed yourself upwards towards his lips, claiming his lips as yours once again. Your hands cradled his face as you kissed him, your tongue slowly moving in and out of his mouth.

Levi's large hands finally left his pockets to make home on your hips, one hand wandering to your ass as he kissed you. Almost like his hand never left, he started kneading your asscheek.

The room filled with light moans and sounds of kisses before he trailed kisses down your jawline to your neck.

Dangerous.

But you let him anyways.

He kissed your soft spot gently before taking the skin between his teeth, sucking on the spot to make his mark. Your nails dragged to his scalp, tilting your head to the side as he claimed you as his.

You let your hand wander to the elastic of his sweatpants, feeling the outline of his hard cock against the ironed fabric.

Levi moaned against your neck, freezing for a moment as you touched his clothed cock.

"He missed me, hm?" You purred, using your middle finger and thumb to massage his dick outside his pants.

For once, Levi had nothing smart to say.

You kneeled down onto the floor, pressing your knees to the cold wood. Your doe eyes found his half lidded ones, full of lust. He visibily gulped as your hands pressed against his lips, pulling his pants and underwear down.

His cock sprung free, and god, did you miss this sight. He's so girthy, almost too big for you.

"What were you saying on the phone, Ackerman?" You grabbed his cock with your right hand, letting your thumb graze over the veins on the underside. "You were thinking about my lips wrapped around the tip of your cock?" You moved yourself closer to the fat tip of his cock, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

Levi nodded, pressing his hand to the back of your head gently. His fingertips buried themselves in your wavy hair, massaging your scalp gently. He was always so caring, even when you were sucking the life out of his dick.

You kept your eyes on him as you wrapped your plush lips around his tip, sucking on it gently like a lollipop. A moan escaped his lips at your touch, feeling your tongue swirl around the head and the slit.

"Fuck, baby." He pushed your head gently, wanting you to take more of him. "No one does it like you."

"How many other bitches have you fucked since we broke up?" You flipped your hair to the side, waiting for his response as his dick began to disappear in your mouth. You took as much of him as you could, swirling your tongue around the width of his cock.

"N-none. I haven't even looked at another woman since you." He threw his head back, being a bit more forceful with his hand as you bobbed your head.

"Really?" You moved your mouth to his heavy balls, sucking on them gently as you watched his eyes. His body twitched, he loves when you do that.

"Y-yes. You t-think I could m-move on j-just like that?"

You slid the entirety of his cock into your mouth, the head hitting the back of your throat. You bobbed your head as you sucked on his sensitive flesh. You gagged, which only made Levi want you more.

"I don't want to come on that pretty face." Levi pulled you by your hair to stand up. "Bed. Now."

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as you led him to your room, which he's familiar with.

He laid down on his back, pulling his hoodie over his head as he moved. You followed his lead and slid your shorts off, revealing your soaking, aching cunt.

You crawled over to him, pressing your lips to his as you straddled his waist. His hand gripped the back of your neck as he kissed you, pushing you into him.

"Sit on my face." He broke the kiss, laying down on the soft fabric of your comforter.

"What?"

"I'm sure I spoke clearly." He grabbed your thighs roughly, pulling you to his face. You grabbed your headboard with both of your hands as you felt the contours of his face.

"O-oh." You felt him blow air onto your clit, sending shivers down your spine. His mouth wrapped around the sensitive nub as his hands gripped the fat of your ass, sucking you dry.

You looked down at his inky hair, his lashes fluttering against your thighs as he devoured you like he hasn't eaten in a year. His mouth left your clit with w 'pop' as his tongue plunged into your pussy.

Lewd, wet noises filled your bedroom as he pushed your asscheeks toward his face, burying his face inside of you. Once he felt your walls twitching, he pressed the pad of his thumb to your clit to rub gently circles.

"You can't come yet though, princess. I want us to come together." He mumbled against your cunt.

You're about to lose your fucking mind. Your fingertips gripped the headboard as you began gently rocking your hips back and forth on his face, feeling his nose poke your aching clit.

Levi removed himself from your cunt, your arousal covering his lips. His rough hands flipped you both over so he was now on top, his lips trailing kisses on your chest before pulling your tank top off.

You felt his tip press against your heat, almost making you come then and there.

His eyes were locked on you in that moment. It felt like there was no one else in the world but you and him. You brought your hands to his red-flushed cheeks, kissing his lips gently. You whimper against him as he pushes himself inside of you, stretching your gummy walls.

Your moans intertwine as he thrusts in and out of you, his muscular arms holding onto you. His eyes looked... lonely. Like he missed you. It wasn't the non chalant facade that you normally hear when you call him.

He was aching for you. Not only for your touch, but for everything you are.

Your eyes were locked on his as his strokes were deep and slow, watching his mouth gape open just a bit.

"Baby," Levi grunted, quickening his pace.

"Yes, Levi?" You pressed your hands to his bare, muscular chest.

The sound of you saying his name sent him over the edge. He watched your lips move as you said his name, a glossy sheen on your lips from his cock. He buried his face in your neck as his pace quickened, his fat balls slapping against your skin.

"Oh, Levi." You moan as your cunt clenches around him. "I'm gonna come." Your toes girl as he thrusts faster and deeper. Quickly, he brought one hand to your clit and massaged circles once again. You slammed your eyes shut, feeling the euphoria overtake your body.

Your entire body twitched and let out moans as you came, your brain almost short circuiting. Levi removed his hand from you as he became sloppy with his pace - he's close.

Levi's eyes met yours again as he lost himself inside of you.

"I, I love you." He thrusted inside of you once more, letting his juices cover your walls, filling you up.

He unloaded inside of you out of habit, you both preferred it that way.

You cradled his head in your hands as he came down from his high, caressing his cheek. You watched his face when his eyes fluttered to yours, his lips pressing against your swollen ones.

Once he pulled out of you, you couldn't help but whine at the loss of him. He got a towel and cleaned your body for you, covering your skin with kisses.

"Levi, did you mean that?" You looked at him as he cleaned you, like the neat freak that he is.

"I don't say anything I don't mean." He didn't even look at you. He got up, threw the towel in your hamper, and found himself at your side again. "I'll never stop loving you, princess. Even when you're not with me, I'm eternally yours."

You pulled the covers over your bodies and tangled your legs with his, mending into his body.

He pressed one last kiss to your forehead before you dozed off together.

Safe to say this wasn't the last time you called him late at night.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #attack on titan #levi ackerman smut #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi ackerman x you #levi smut #levi x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #levi attack on titan #aot smut

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starrluvs · 1 year ago

Note

bihan with a super girly gf who has a decked out pink room covered inn stuffed ajimals and clothes

𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 + 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄! 𝐒/𝐎

cw: fem reader, hyper fem reader/girly girl reader, i hope bi han isnt too ooc, established relationship, loss of virginity, piv sex, corruption kink, oral (m and f receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, reader is a lil cock drunk, mdni pls :)

wc: i typed this up on tumblr and not docs so idkkk T^T

a/n: this is crazy because i had thoughts about this sort of trope with bi-han omg.... i've done this in a headcanon format with both sfw and nsfw, enjoy and ty nonnie! ALSO TYSM FOR 300 FOLLOWERS🫶🏾💗

SFW

grumpy anger issues bf x hyper girly-girl gf

everyone around the two of you questioned what brought you guys together

'opposites attract' is indeed true

when he first seen you, bi-han was taken back at how much you stood out

you were dressed head-to-toe in pink... it was somewhat strange to him, but with the way his eyes couldn't peel away from your figure, he knew was interested in you

once he starts to interact with you, he finds your personality oddly endearing

you were so passionate about whatever was on your mind and he was fond of that

watching and listening to the way you rambled on and on about how many squishmallow's you've collected and how much more you're missing was surprisingly intriguing

seeing the way your eyes lit up the more you talked about collecting these bizarre 'stuffed creatures', as he called it, threatened to melt his supposedly iced heart... just a little bit

when the two of you start dating, things get interesting

bi-han has been to your place quite a few times now, and the decor of your room makes him feel out of place every single time

seeing your room covered in pink with all your stuffed animals, pink frilly clothes and makeup...

it just matched you so perfectly, and he was the complete opposite...

he also has some nicknames for you that include: doll, love, flower, snowflake, and one that he uses due to your own request; princess

having to introduce you to the lin kuei was quite eventful

he was grateful to know you didn't get scared and run off once learning his profession, making him proud to have you by his side

once meeting you, bi-han started taking off more time from his duties, which only started to spread rumors of the grandmaster potentially dating somebody

if anyone dared to intrude his privacy and ask about why he's been so much more absent than usual, he'd snap and tell them it doesn't concern anybody except himself

so once the clan seen bi-han walking side-by-side with you, showing you around for the first time, everyone couldn't take their eyes away from you two

the way you were all dolled up in a pink frilly dress that matched your heels and thigh high socks while clinging to bi-han's arm so lovingly with a beaming smile was baffling to all the clan members, especially his brothers

(just imagine kuai liang playfully nudging tomas and telling him 'i told you, he was definitely seeing someone this whole time')

bi-han cared deeply for you and everyone was able to tell

everybody found out about the grandmaster commissioning a separate room for you to have customized however you'd like because you didn't enjoy how 'dark and sad' the blue and black tones of the lin kuei and bi-han's room were

he even went to the extent of getting custom made gowns and robes for you to wear around the lin kuei that were in whatever shades of pink you wanted

he loved the confidence you had and how much you didn't care about sticking out like a sore thumb

it's exactly what he needs in a partner by his side

overall, bi-han will always treat you like the princess you are <3

NSFW

bi-han was your first ever intimate partner, and him taking your virginity made you feel so much more connected to him than you already were

knowing this also swelled the love bi-han already had for you

it made him feel like you truly belonged to him. only him.

your body drove him wild, and your sounds felt like they casted a spell upon him

the first few times you two were intimate, he would attempt to be softer so that you could enjoy yourself

"bi-hannn, it f-feels so- haah, good..." your eyes were watery with tears and your glossy lips were left in an 'o' shape

he was above you, pinning your legs back and thrusting into you at a moderate pace

"you’re doing amazing, my little snowflake, making me so proud…" his praise made your heart flutter as he guided and helped you while taking in all of his length

his eyes were trailing back and forth between your erotic facial expressions and your beautiful breasts that rocked perfectly with each of his thrusts

your arms were stretched above as you grabbed onto one of your teddy bears behind you for support

the grip you had on the stuffed animal was harsh as you bit your lip, trying to quiet down in case one of your neighbors heard you..

every time he would take you like this at your place, you were always mindful of the neighbors, which he hated

but fortunately for him, once you moved in at the lin kuei, you were far more used to having sex with bi-han and he made sure you knew that you had full permission to be as loud as you wanted

living with the lin kuei meant that you were with almost with bi-han at all times, which severely benefited your sex life

gone were the days when you would be too shy to show your naked body to bi-han or even make noises

bi-han made sure to craft you into his perfect little fuckdoll

he trained you and your body so well, you knew how to properly obey and take him whenever he pleased

being able to fuck you at his usual rough pace was all that bi-han ever wanted, and you couldn’t get enough of it either

your baby-pink panties were pushed to the side as bi-han aggressively railed you from behind

"f-fuuuck! please don’t s-stop!" your voice was slurred and your mouth was hung open— unable to prevent your drool from soaking bi-han’s mattress

he loved when you got like this, so fucked out by him

just seeing the way you clearly had no coherent thoughts running through your mind— only the thought of his cock clouded your head

bi-han snickers, "who would’ve thought that my precious princess would turn out to be such a whore?"

on occasion he would still praise you like he used to

but he would often degrade you and talk with such vulgar language without you shying away anymore

introducing you to such an enjoyable sex life also involved you building up your own sex drive

after finishing daily duties, there have been times when bi-han has walked into his room and found you in the middle of his bed, grinding your aroused pussy on one of your stuffed animals

knowing that you had planned for him to see you made bi-han surge with excitement down under

despite all of that, bi-han can still praise you and treat you like the princess you are, similar to how he did when you were still inexperienced

if you tell him you’re in the mood to get down and dirty—gently, not rough— he would oblige

he would still call you his good girl while eating you out

you’d be leaned back on your pink sheets, basking in the warmth of your mattress but also the coldness of bi-han’s tongue assaulting your pussy

the same situation usually happens in reverse as well

if bi-han’s in the mood, you’d gladly let him fuck your face for his own pleasure

the obedience you had for him brought him so much pleasure

not to mention the influence he’s had on you—

his cute, innocent snowflake who could barely take in any of his cock without gagging and coughing, was now easily allowing her face to be fucked at whatever pace he desired

seeing your dolled up face get ruined turned him on even more

the way your tears were stained with black from your mascara and running down your cheeks, and how your sparkly pink lip gloss was smudged all over his cock and your face

even knowing how you would beg and drink up his cum made him feel so proud

he still couldn’t get over how well he trained you…

bi-han was also smart and knew how to keep a perfect balance of praise and degradation for you

he’d watch you from above as he stroked his hard cock in front of your face

your doe eyes looked up at him with your tongue sticking out, panting and whining, just begging for something to be in your mouth

bi-han would take his free hand and lightly tap your cheek before forcing his thumb into your mouth, which you gladly sucked on

"such a beautiful little slut, you know just how to please me, fuck.."

guys i think he might have a corruption kink idk tho >_< !!

#bi han #bi han x reader #bi han smut #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #sub zero #sub zero x reader #sub zero smut

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obsessedwithmiguel · 2 months ago

Text

Just an hour

I know it's been a long time since I posted anything, but I was left blank. I have one of Miguel for Christmas in draft, but it's already over. So I'll probably post something next christmas. This post is more for a more mature audience. And another thing, I have NO experience with what you're about to read. I've only read it, so please correct me if I'm wrong in the comments. Also, this text is going to be long. I will try to post more frecuently but not everyday or everyweek, from time to time.

Warning: 18+ mdni content, slowburn (I think?), oral (fem receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, slight ansgt, sex with plot, unprotected sex, soft but a bit rough in the end, innapropriate vocabulary, biting, hair pulling, descriptive text.

Trope: Needy x Needy

It's been hours, days, weeks and months that have passed without seeing Miguel. You missed him, but you still understood how difficult his job was. It required all of his attention, which made you wonder: how did both of you ever made it work before? But that didn't matter now as you were walking through the HQ to get to Miguel's office. Since a certain little bird, to not mention Lyla, told you that Miguel hasn't left his office for a while. He goes out on missions from time to time, but he's engrossed in a new project of his, which has him excited. The problem, as mentioned above, he is engrossed and has not left his office. And you, as his partner and companion, decided to go to him. He worries you, and why wouldn't he? You've been together for almost two years and are very close to each other.

After passing through the room where the anomalies were locked up, you go through the door and down the long hallway to his office, lab, lair, whatever that place was. Your footsteps echoed in the spacious place, you looked up, where that floating platform was: where you knew he was. You couldn't get up there on your own, so you cleared your throat once. When you didn't get a response, you called out to him. You managed to hear a sigh from him as the platform began to descend slowly (not to say too slowly). You crossed your arms and calmly waited until the platform was almost at ground level before walking forward and climbing onto it.

Miguel was turned towards you in his swivel chair, dark circles under his eyes (which were red from exhaustion) and his hair disheveled and untidy. "Where were you?" You asked him, looking at him with a serious expression. He sighed again and rubbed his eyes, his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I... I've been in my office. I know what you're going to say to me, and I'm sorry, but I have a reason why." He answered you, because he knew what you were like. You were a person who liked to receive logical, that made sense, and complete answers. You nodded at him to explain himself, which he did.

You listened to him talk about his new project with a certain enthusiasm in his voice. His eyes shining with that same enthusiasm and excitement of talking about something that fascinates him and loves to do. Even if you couldn't quite understand what he was talking about since it was a bit more... scientific, so to speak, you found the sparkle in his eyes as he spoke endearing. And because he loves eye contact, your gaze never left his. It was like a magnet, and you couldn't tear yourself away. Suddenly, his words blurred and you began to notice his physique (specifically his face).Oh, how you loved his lips, his eyes, his slicked-back curls, and everything about him. You missed him, more than you thought. You missed his hugs, his kisses, his smell, his perfume, his touch, his voice, caresses, calling him by the nickname you gave him, his hands, his back and when they were both intimate with each other. Your throat hoarse from screaming out his name when the two of you were alone in your room, giving yourselves to each other with so much love and... maybe a little roughness.

A snap of his fingers snaps you out of your trance. You blink a little and looked at him. "Are you listening to me?" he asked as he looked you straight in the eyes, realizing that you were spaced. "Uhm- I-" "That's a no." He was right, you weren't listening, only at first before spacing out. But mostly in how much you missed him in every way. He called you again and you looked at him again, ashamed of your not-so-pure thoughts.

""Do you need anything? Or did you come to visit me?" He asked. You looked at him and answered, "A little bird told me someone out there hasn't been out to touch grass in almost two weeks." You raised an eyebrow and looked at him nonchalantly. A 'Lyla' came out of his lips in an annoyed tone as he looked at his monitors. "It hasn't been that long, has it?" He asked you, his brow furrowed in confusion. "It's March 27th, Miguel. You haven't been out since Sunday the 16th of the same month." You answered in a firm voice, feeling a little sad when you realized how long you hadn't seen him. "Shit," Miguel cursed under his breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize-damn... I'm sorry but I can't pause this project right now." "Miguel, you've been working on this for two weeks, can't you at least take a break?" You pleaded with your eyes, his stubbornness frustrating you greatly. He said your name again and replied, "I know you're upset, but this project is very important-" "More important than me, apparently." You immediately felt guilty about your words but there was some truth in them. You noticed how Miguel's expression changed, and you felt worse. You wanted to cry, you missed him. He wasn't alone anymore; he had a partner now, and it was understandable that he had his responsibilities, but you were there too. You felt so abandoned, like I'd cast you aside. You didn't feel loved, and you're probably being dramatic, but that's how you felt right now.

"What?" Miguel asked, looking at you with a 'what the fuck?' expression. Your mouth had been faster than your head, your words had come out before you could stop them. "Sorry, sorry, I don't know why I said it, but you need to at least go outside. This is the second time, and believe me, I want to be patient and help you, but you're not helping either." You crossed arms again and now your brow was furrowed. Miguel had a look of surprise in his eyes, but then he returned to normal.

Miguel turns around and touches a button on his desk, causing the platform to rise again. You looked at him in confusion, and he moved for you to come closer. Once you did, he took your hand and kissed your knuckles in apology. He moves you forward until you're between his legs, looking down at him as he takes your hands and kisses your knuckles, the back of them, and your palms. Miguel wasn't known for being romantic, but he would at least try to show you how much he appreciated you.

His gentle touch makes your chest warm and tingle: butterflies in your stomach start having fun when you see him look up at you. "Lyla, lock the door." He commanded, he wanted a moment of privacy with you, an innocent act on his part. Miguel just wants to make up for the time he's lost with you, at least for a few minutes before duty calls. The sound of the heavy metal door closing catches your attention, scanning the entrance to see if it was really locked. Your gaze returns to Miguel, who looks at you with a certain vulnerability in his eyes and wraps his arm around you, moving you a little closer until your knees touch his swivel chair. You took the cue, and sat on his lap, straddling him as he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. He wasn't usually a caring person, but his actions speak louder than words, and he would be more than willing to give you the affection you need.

His head buries his face into your neck, inhaling your soft perfume and the faint scent of your shampoo, tightening his grip around you a little before pulling away with a smug expression on his face, making him look like a silly billy. You chuckle at his face while planting kisses on his face. He allows you snuggle up against him, letting you bury your face against his neck, inhaling his skin too, but he doesn't have a perfume like you, just the natural scent you missed so much. You pull away from his neck after a long moment with an expression that would make anyone think you were drugged, making him laugh slightly and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear to see your face better. Miguel puts his face back into your neck, planting a few kisses there that makes you squirm on his lap, his kisses tickling you.

"Miguel?" You called out to him, getting his attention and receiving a hum from him: sound that makes your intimacy tingle at his voice. "Can we go home?" "Porqué? (Why?)" Miguel looks at you once more, he didn't want to move and clearly couldn't leave his workplace yet. "It'll be more comfortable there." "More comfortable for what?" Then, there he sees it. That look in your eyes, your semi-dilated pupils, and that longing in your gaze. He knows what you're looking for and what you need. "Corazón, You know I can't just leave the lab like that." "Just one hour, one hour. I'm not asking for more." You pleaded with your eyes, not wanting to let him go: a thought that could be selfish depending on the point of view, but you couldn't let him go, not now. When Miguel sees the plea in your eyes, he decides to listen. He signals for you to stand up, and after you give him some space, he stands up too. "Lyla, you know what to do." "Yeah, yeah, have fun!" LYLA teased with a flirtatious and knowing look in her eyes as she waved goodbye.

Once at his home, he picks you up in his arms without warning and carries you to the bed, placing you down with great care. Miguel kneels between your legs and uses his hands to support his weight. "Can I?" You nod, giving him permission to begin. You feel one of his cold hands rest on your waist as he leans his head to kiss your lips. His lips were a little dry but still soft and tasted the same. Your hands rise to his neck, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Then you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip and you eagerly let it slide.

The kiss deepens even further as his tongue plays with yours, his forearm resting on the bed so he doesn't fall on you. Your hands run under the collar of his shirt, rubbing what you can reach of his back. You break the kiss, and Miguel carefully lifts your shirt to reveal your bra. You help him take off your shirt, and your hands go to the back of your bra to undo it.Miguel stops your hands and does it for you, unclasping it. Once your breasts are uncovered, Miguel begins to plant kisses on them, from the valley of your chest to your collarbone. His kisses continue to rise to your neck, one of his calloused hands rests on one of your breasts and squeezes gently, his thumb rolling your nipple. His knee separates your legs, his other hand massaging your thigh and giving it light squeezes.

You feel your heart pounding against your chest as he does this. His lips moving to your other nipple and plants another kiss there before gently sucking on it. His hands move from their positions and move to the waistband of your pants. His hands pull them down with your underwear, making you kind of desperate with how slow his movements are. You lift your hips to help him out, now laying fully bare and exposed to him. His head moves down as he plants a trail of kisses from your neck to your core: which is already damp. He kisses the mole on your inner thigh, gently spreading your legs: gaze focused at your glistening core. He looks up at you as if asking permission once again. "You know you don't have to ask." You curled your lips in a small mischiveous smile with a glint of desperation in it. "Still, I wouldn't want to do anything you're not okay with." "I know..." His lips press another kiss, but this time to your throbbing clit, lapping at your sweet slit. Your hands move instinctivily to his hair as he starts to gently suckle at your clit. "Miguel-" "Shh, I got you." He shushed you as his tongue finds your entrance, drinking as much of you as he can like he was starving slowly.

A few minutes later, he feels your walls flutter against his tongue, making him suckle on you harder. You feel that familiar tightness and tingle in your lower stomach, you would not be able to hold on any longer. "Miguel, Miguel, please-" You couldn't finish as a moan left your lips, your back arching. But out of nowhere, he pulls away, his lips glistening with your fluids (idk how to put it). You let out a whine when he just gives your intimacy one last kiss and then gets up. Miguel begins to unbuckle his belt and pulls down his pants along with his boxers, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You let out a yelp as he pulls you onto his lap, his back against the top of the bed and you on top of him. You felt his intimacy against yours, making you bite your lip. You slowly lift your hips, the tip of his cock slowly stretching you as you lower yourself onto him. With a sudden thrust upwards from him, his cock slides more inside you but not completly, drawing a low moan from you. His hands hold you steady, letting out a hiss as he feels how tight you are. He throws his head back, trying to compose himself but you just felt so good and he wasn't entirely in. You lifted your hips and fell onto him again, his cock completely inside you finally. He lets out a groan, his fangs visible through his lips, a sight that turns you on.

Once you're used to his size, you shift your hips back and forth, pressing against him to stimulate your clit. His hands move instinctivily to your hips, keeping you steady, a gasp leaving from his lips as your inner walls hug him just perfectly. He gently thrusts upwards again, meeting your hips, your nails digging into his forearms. "Dime... qué es lo que necesitas. (Tell me... what you need.)" "You... I need you..." You replied, your eyes rolling back at the feeling of his tip brushing against your sweet spot. "I'm yours... tell me your mine." He looks up at you with lustful eyes, his gaze dark due to his dilated pupils. "Yours... only yours- ah!-" Your sentence being cut off by a sudden hard thrust from him. "Now that's more like it." He smirked, his fangs visible through his lips once again before rolling you down onto your back with him on top of you. His hands rise your legs to his shoulders, letting you feel him deeper inside you, reaching that spot without effort.

"¿Así esta bien? (Is it okay like this?) " "Yeah... fuck, Miguel." You cursed, biting down onto your wrist so you wouldn't moan too loudly before his deep thrusts which began to pick up speed. He takes your wrist off your mouth, kissing your lips before whispering against them, "Don't do that, I want to hear you, yeah? Let me hear you." "But I-" Your reply was cut off again but another thrust mean to make you listen. "I don't care if you're loud, let me hear you. Let them hear." His face buries into your neck, giving it gentle nibbles and leaving some hickeys here and there. Your nails dig into his back, scratching his skin but he doesn't mind, enjoying the mix of pleasire with the sting of the injuries. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as he hits the spot again, his thumb rubbing circles at your clit, making you see stars. Both of you start to feel that sudden tightness, meaning that both of you were close: his rubs on your clit turning more desperate and giving it more pressure. "Come for me, let yourself go, I got you..." And with one last thrust, he spills himself inside you as you squirt around his cock, taking all the energy you had. His hips continue to move against yours to lengthen the process.

Once you both came down from your height, he carefully pulls out and lies down beside you, wrapping an arm around you. "Are you okay?" "Don't know if to say better than before or as if a truck had run over me." Both of you chuckle at that. He pulls you closer until your head rested on his chest. "Don't worry about the sheets, I'll change them later." "You better." You laughed as he poked your side at that. "Are you going back to work after this?" "Probably, but not now." Miguel turns his head to the clock beside his bed, noticing the time.* "Just an hour, you said." "Opps, my bad." Miguel huffs at that, giving your backside a light smack.* "Love you too, big guy." "Yeah, yeah, I love you too." His hand goes back to tickle you, making you squirm and let out a squeak. Your giggles resonating through his room as the lights slowly turn off.

I hope you like it. It wasn't good, I know but it's my first time writing this kind of stuff. If you guys have any advice or any idea that you would like to share to improve my posts and writing, I will thank you so much. And any prompt ideas would be great. Thank you for reading and have a nice day or night. ;3

#miguel o'hara #spiderman #atsv headcanons #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara headcanons #smut #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel fanfic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel atsv #miguel o hara

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