#but i want him to eat me out while he's covered in blood
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joanquill · 1 day ago
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Truck-kun Did It
Now coming to terms that you were no longer in the world you knew, you now have to face your saviors, the Lord of Crime. Continuation of "How I Got Sent to Another World"
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A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had writer's block, so I can't guarantee this is good 🙃 It's also my first time doing a taglist so I hope this is correct, I also only added the ones who explicitly said they wanted to be added just in case 😅 Tag/s: Fem!Modern!Asian!Reader Warning/s: Profanity
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"Ugh..." you groaned as you turned to your side, moving your hands to feel silk sheets covering you.
Bewildered, you shot up and found yourself in a luxurious room lying in bed, creating more questions.
You removed the sheets, seeing your hands and ankles covered in bandages.
You were still in your clothes last night, but your body didn't feel as sticky or dirty as before.
"What is going on...?" you muttered, trying to recall what happened last night.
"Right... The newspaper, and those three men... But wh-" the sound of knocking snapped you out of your thoughts, making you turn to the door.
Before you could react, a blond man with glasses opened the door, pushing a trolley with a cloche.
"Ah, you're awake, Good." he greeted as he saw you sitting in bed, pushing the trolley to your side.
"Miss (Y/N), I believe?"
"Oh-Yes! I'm (Y/N) (L/N)... And you are...?"
"Louis James Moriarty,"
"Lou-" you stopped yourself as you recalled the character of the same name, bearing a striking resemblance to the man before you.
'There's no way... right...?'
"I hope this meal fits your palette," he opened the cloche and revealed a plate of omelet rice, bacon, and beans.
You gulped at the sight, feeling your stomach grumble as you gripped your hands.
"Here, you likely haven't-" you snatched the spoon and fork from Louis' hands and ate heartily. Each bite tasted better than the last.
"So good..." you muttered, ecstatic to finally have something to eat and finish the meal instantly.
"Ah-! Thank you so much for the meal! I haven't eaten anything since lunch..." you awkwardly laughed, making Louis widen his eyes.
"...I'm glad you enjoyed your breakfast," he replied, surprising you.
"Breakfast?" you repeated, looking outside the window to see the sun shining brightly.
"Ah, right..." you mumbled, feeling the same dread and unease as last night as you looked down on your clothes.
"Ah, an associate of ours cleaned you up last night. I believe she put it inside your nightstand," Louis reassured as you nodded, looking at the bandages.
"She also treated your hands, knees, and feet. If you are feeling better, please stop by at the parlor downstairs,"
"O-Okay, thank you again, Mister Louis..." you blurted, earning a nod as he pushed the trolley out and closed the door behind him.
You took a deep breath and sighed--almost a whine-- as you leaned back on the bed.
"So all of this is real..." you muttered, looking around the room again, now noticing the familiarities in the series.
"There's no way... right? Then again, there's no way I could have gone back to freaking Victorian Era England-- And yet, here we are!" you grumbled as you raised your hands in defeat, pacing in the room.
"That reminds me..." you patted your clothes, feeling nothing but your body.
"Right... No pockets. It's all in my bag... Which I probably lost back when I-" you stopped as your blood turned cold, "...When I got hit by that truck..." you sighed, dropping down to your knees.
You took another deep breath as you stood up, going over to the nightstand and seeing the cloak washed and your shoes on the side of the bed.
"If this world really is from Moriarty the Patriot..." you grumbled as you put on your shoes and grabbed the cloak, "Then that means this place is..."
"Miss (L/N), good morning," William greeted you with a courteous smile from his seat.
Albert sitting on the chair beside him, Sebastian, Bonde, and Fred were on the couch, while Louis, Jack, and Moneypenny stood in the room.
'Oh God... They really are...' you gulped as you put on a smile, nervously walking up to the room.
"Good morning...! Um... thank you again for your help," you greeted back, making William smile as the others kept their wary eyes on you.
'Please don't kill me... I'm broke- I mean, not rich...' you prayed in your head as you stayed in your spot, holding your hands tightly.
"Well then, shall we get going?" he asked as he stood up, grabbing his cane as you blinked at him.
"...Excuse me?"
"Your home, miss," he clarified, making you hum in understanding.
"Right...! Of course...." you nodded, following him out of the manor.
'...What the fuck do I do now?'
You kept quiet as you restlessly looked out of the window of the carriage while William sat across from you, observing your every move.
"We should be far enough by now," he spoke up as he looked outside, catching you by surprise as he gave you a calculating smile.
"Now then, would you mind clearing some confusion of mine?"
"...Okay," 'I'm pretty sure I'm dead if I don't, anyway,'
"Judging by your appearance and conduct, I assume you're well-off enough to not be living in the streets, such as how we found you last night,"
You took a breath you didn't know you were holding and exhaled.
"Right..."
"You seem to be in the working class. However, I do not recall any occupation a woman can have that will lead to bloodshot eyes, fatigue, numbness and pain in the wrist, and poor posture-- which explains the neck and back pain," he continued, making you touch the back of your neck.
"It's as if your work asks you to sit down for a prolonged period of time... Perhaps with a typewriter?" you held on your wrist, and sure enough, the pain from working in front of the computer is still there.
"...I'm an office worker-err uhm...! A clerk, I guess...? As you say here? Sorry, English isn't my mother tongue," you nervously chuckled, but William kept his serious gaze.
"Now, for your clothes..." he continued, making you feel conscious as you covered yourself.
"Ah, I apologize. It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable,"
"N-No, it's fine... They're my work clothes," you explained, knowing lying or trying to trick him would be a mistake.
"I see... And where do you work?" he asked, making you gulp.
"...It's not exactly easy to explain..."
"Take your time. This carriage is only circling the block, after all," he reassured with a smile, shocking you as you looked outside, seeing it was Fred in disguise driving the carriage.
"...Of course..."
"Now then," William smiled as he pulled out a traveling tea set, setting it up as he poured you a cup.
"Shall we continue our discussion?"
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Extra:
The reader after realizing most of the food/convenient items they know are either inaccessible or haven't been invented yet AND learning the hygiene practices of the Victorian Era:
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Taglist: @stayblinkarmyatinymoafearnot, @tinkerleaf, @muqingswife, @jungpuss, @rekisgay, @ih3artpjo, @sparklysoullover
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vmartist · 11 hours ago
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•Satoru Gojo x Male Curse Reader•
•Radar•
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“and whether you like it or not, it ain’t gonna stop. ‘Cause I got you on my radar”
Content Warnings: Mentions of blood and gore, sexual themes, minimal editing, blah, blah, blah, author notes at the end and I hope you enjoy <3
It’s not exactly clear when you came to be in the modern era, or why. Maybe because society lies to itself about its carnal desires? Or because everyone eventually needs a release? Whatever the case, you found yourself shifting, shaping yourself into what others crave the most. Once you sank your fangs into someone, it was only a matter of time before they succumbed. Today was no different than any other day as you stared at yourself in the mirror, no reflection of course, which always caused a pang of sadness to shoot through your heart.
I am beautiful.
Slowly, your lips curve into a smile. And you rose to your feet and dressed yourself before stepping seamlessly into society. It was like a routine you had down. The shopping districts had some of the most attractive people you’d ever seen, and today was no different. Your eyes flicked over each person, the shape of their eyes, their noses, their bodies, and their colors intrigued you as well.
Pretty.
As you rested your head on the table you sat at, you felt your face shift, morphing into what you took in today. Taking the most beautiful details and disregarding the ugly ones. Your bones cracked, snapped, and popped into place. Adjusting your posture, you sat up straight and fixed your clothes.
I am pretty.
The thought makes you giggle aloud, but no one notices, they usually never do. But, you still quickly look around to see if someone did.
A sigh slips past your lips as you stand up and saunter toward the food court. One of the many pleasures of humans was eating, and once you tried it you could see why. Today felt like a good day for something sweet, the mochi bar was especially tempting today. A special deal today for the kikufuku! Not like the deal mattered since you just took what you wanted without paying.
Ahead of you was a man, tall, lean from what you could tell, hair as white as snow, fair skin, and he was also getting something sweet. You walk beside him and go to grab his order when your hands brush against each other.
“Excuse me, can I help you…?” A voice rumbles from the man beside you. Up close you could finally take in his face, but unfortunately it was covered by the obnoxious sunglasses that sat on his nose.
Your eyes immediately widen, your jaw drops and you blink at him. “You…you can see me?” You mumbled out quietly.
The person working the bar quirked their brow at the man. “Who are you talking to…?” They question.
His brows shoot up and shakes his head with a curt laugh. “Ah, apologies, I was on the phone!” He glances back to you and quickly takes his order and shoots a sideways glance your way before briskly walking off.
This was an opportunity that couldn’t be passed up. Someone noticed you, finally! It’s instinct as you follow in the man’s direction and look around. You catch glimpses of his hair in the crowds as you slip by people and try to reach him. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in a secluded area, far from the shopping district now.
It wasn’t familiar to you, it was more greenery than you were accustomed to. Your eyes flick around to find your mystery man before his voice rings out to you.
“Geez you’re stubborn…I thought I’d lost you by now.” He groans out from behind you.
As you turn to face him, your lips curve into a grin. “You’d never be able to lose me…not after what just happened!” You chuckled as you stepped forward.
His brows knit together as his lips pouted down slightly. “What are you talking about…?” He scoffs.
“You can see me! You acknowledged me!” You exclaim while throwing your hands up.
He pauses for a moment before parting his lips. “Of course I can see you…you’re a curse.” He states, before removing his sunglasses to reveal the most gorgeous pair of eyes you’d ever seen. Sure, it was a simple blue but it was more than just blue to you. A sea you could get lost in, one you didn’t mind getting lost in. “Which means…I’ll have to exorcise you…”
Want. No, need.
You blink a couple times and see the man’s face shift from mild irritation to shock.
“…? My eyes…?” He murmured to himself as he stared at you.
You cock your head at him and nod. “When I see something I like, I take it.”
He clicks his tongue and hums. “That much is obvious from earlier when you tried to take my stuff…” he muttered.
Immediately you pout at him and sigh. “I’m sorry…I didn’t know you’d be able to see me…so I figured I could just take it and leave.”
He shakes his head at you. “You know what? I don’t have time for you…” he waves you off and walks off.
You’re quick to try to follow behind. “Wait!” You call out to him before he’s out of your sight. “…he hates me…” you sighed as you dropped your shoulders and sunk your head.
The following weeks kept you awake, it’s a good thing you don’t need sleep. The man’s essence kept you up and mapping out every single detail of him. His white hair, his pale fair skin, tall lean body, his nose bridge, those thin pink lips and his slim fingers…what it would feel like to be wrapped around your…
Plan.
A plan is what you needed, and a plan is what you had. You find yourself alone and cackling, nearly screaming at the thoughts that pass through your mind.
He will be—no. He is mine.
Normally the process is short and requires very little cursed energy. Before it was only taking bits and pieces of a person, taking the beauty of society. Now however, you’re taking the entirety of a person, everything that makes them, them. Or rather, him, him. It had to be perfect, although there were hiccups and gaps where you couldn’t see.
His body would have to be completely bare to you before you could copy him completely. But for now, it was near perfection, all that was left was his voice and the parts of him he had hidden behind his clothes. Mimicking the voice was another trying task, but luckily stalking him over a period of time made it much easier. Every night was another night of retching and throwing away previous persons features. It was all worth it to make room for him.
Your room was now littered with bones of various sizes and shapes, dried blood and viscera, mucus and puss of different colors. If only you could see yourself, how perfect you were. But instead you’re forced to face the cost of this ‘power’. As you feel your body snap into place, causing a few cracks and creaks as you stand up, you open your eyes and touch your hands together.
“…it’s…near perfection…” you whispered to yourself.
Dusk falls, perfect timing to be on the prowl and take another soul down to ecstasy. Your footsteps echo out into the dark as you make your way through the city. The bright lights and heavy air causes your throat to tighten. Suddenly the air feels denser than before, you turn around to face your desire.
“…Oh a cheap copy…I was wondering why you kept lingering around me for those months…” he muttered as he messed with the blindfold over his eyes.
Your thin lips curve up into a smirk. “Cheap…?” There’s a moment of silence before your lips drop from a smirk into a sullen frown. “Aw man…that’s actually…uber lame. I was expecting a better reaction considering the effort and time I put into this…”
A scoff erupts from his throat immediately. “From what I sense, all you’re doing is cheap imitation…you can’t actually use Six Eyes or Limitless…can you?” He cocks his head at you as the question leaves his lips.
You squirm slightly under his gaze and whine. “Huh? What’s that? Your technique…?” You pause and place a hand under your chin and hum. “Hm…”
The man across from you stares quietly from behind the blindfold before holding his hand out. Your azure eyes flick up before your lips curve upward. Immediately you rush over and try to wrap your arms around him but you can’t.
“Hey what gives!? I can’t hug you…?” You mumbled as you pulled back.
He chuckles and shakes his head slightly. “Why are you so obsessed with me anyway? You don’t even know my name do you…?”
You pause and pout softly. “No…but that changes nothing!” There’s a small pause before you part your lips. “Could you…tell me your name…?”
He stands still and cocks his head at you with a smirk.
“Please…?”
He laughs and shrugs. “Satoru Gojo. Do you have a name…?” Satoru asks.
Satoru Gojo. Pretty name…
“…sure I have a name…but I’d prefer yours…” you sigh with a lovesick smile.
Satoru places his hands over his hips and chuckles. “You’re not planning on replacing me are you…?”
Immediately you shake your head. “No! No…I don’t think I could…”
There’s a brief pause in the conversation as your eyes are glued to your feet. Satoru brings his hand up to flick your forehead. “I got a question for you…don’t bore me okay?”
You blink and stare at him. “Hm…?”
“There was cases a couple months ago, days before we’d met actually. People going missing…then reappearing. Was that you?” He questions.
Your lips purse together. “Are you accusing me?”
This causes a rumble of laughter to escape his throat. “You’re pretty funny for a curse…Sure, I am accusing you.” He shrugs.
“Yeah…some of those cases were me…how’d you figure?” You confirmed while cocking your head.
Satoru adjusts his blindfold and reveals one of his eyes. “The people affected said they saw themselves briefly as they entered ‘bliss’. So you don’t actually kill the people you copy…but I’m still confused on the whole ‘bliss’ thing…all the victims were extremely vague.”
A grin makes its way to your lips. “That’s a shame…they should’ve all just been open and honest about it. Their desires were so…delicious.” You whispered as your tongue lapped over your lips quickly.
This makes his brows knit together and furrow. “…you’re an odd one..” his brows then relax and his smirk his back. “…but that makes things interesting.”
There’s a small pause between you two. “Huh…? You want to fight?” You ask while tilting your head slightly.
He snaps his blindfold back over his eyes and leaps backward with his hands in his pockets. “Like I said…don’t bore me…” he chuckles.
The next half an hour solidified your feelings for him, Satoru Gojo. He fought with such fever that left you amazed and craving more. You both exchanged hits between each other as well as playful and occasionally flirty banter that left smiles on your lips. Somehow, you’re now on top of his lap, straddling his body into the ground as you gaze down at him.
“…it makes sense that only Satoru Gojo could defeat Satoru Gojo…” he muses from underneath you.
You lean down, nose to nose with him. “You were holding back…because deep down…you know you want this.”
His breath catches in his throat before he swallows and huffs out a laugh. “What can I say? I’m curious…and besides…you didn’t bore me.”
No time was wasted after his words as you tilted your head and locked your lips between his and shut your eyes. Satoru stared up with wide eyes before he slowly shut them and leaned into the kiss. As you synced your lips together and slowly darted your tongue between his lips and toward his throat, his erection poked between your legs.
A bridge of saliva connects your lips as you pull away. “You’re…eager.” You hum as swallow his spit. This causes his hips to buck forward before you firmly push them down and shake your head with a cackle. “Ah, ah, ah…” you tutted. “…the fun has only just begun…”
Satoru grits his teeth, biting back his strained cries and whimpers as he’s restrained. “…not…fair…” he spits out weakly.
A sigh passed through your lips as you bring your slender fingers to his jackets zipper and slide it down. “…what’s not fair…is how you’re holding out on me…” His eyes follow your movements and he feels his mouth go dry.
Once his jacket was discarded, you leaned down to plant kisses down his face, then his neck, across his chest and down to his abs before you stop at his v-line. His fingers dug deeper into your scalp, gripping the tufts of hair tightly and tugging. “Keep going…” he huffs out roughly.
Slowly you rise to grip his belt buckle, slowly fiddling with it. “Oh man…this is sooo hard…” Underneath his pants was the outline of his erect cock, twitching and pulsing for release.
Satoru drops his hands down to his belt as he almost shoves you off. “J-Just let me do it!” He whines, his voice cracking slightly. He sloppily slips his belt off and tosses it aside before reaching for the button and popping it. His breathing growing heavier as sweat drips down his forehead, and his cheeks dusted a deep shade of crimson. Once he slides the zipper down he lets out a breath of relief as his cock is now only strained by his boxers.
His eyes fall back on you as his chest rises and drops, his brows knitted together and dick twitching. “Well…? I’m not just gonna play with myself…” he smirks and hums. “Unless that’s what you’re into…”
Immediately you climb over him and unsheathed his penis from his boxers and grip the base firmly. This causes him to take a sharp inhale and grit his teeth as he stares at you. Pre spills from his tip and down his mid length. You press your thumb between the slit of the head of the penis and rub gently, drawing out a couple erotic moans from the other man as more pre spills and dribbles down his penis. Using the pre as makeshift lube, you slide your fingers down to his base and begin to pump him slowly.
Gripping the base before sliding up to the head before sliding back down. Satoru shuts his eyes as he occasionally bucks his hips, craving more friction and whimpering as he does so.
“…you’re perfect…” you uttered.
A breathless laugh shudders past his parted lips as he nods. “I…I know…”
His cock twitches with anticipation in your grasp, wet and leaking. Slowly you stop pumping, which causes him to crack open his lids and stare at you with a frown. You leaned over and pecked the tip with your lips, pre dribbles down your lips but you quickly mop it up with your tongue and swallow. Satoru blinks at you before gulping and gripping the ground. Before he can argue, you give his tip another gentle kiss before sliding your tongue around.
He gasps immediately and bucks his cock into your mouth. As you pull your mouth back he tries to push his cock back inside sloppily.
“Gah…fuck. Why do you keep stopping?” He whimpers out.
Your eyes flick up to meet his half lidded ones. “We’re making love together…not a quick flick…be patient…” you replied before taking his entire length into your mouth.
This jolts Satoru as his eyes widen and he cries out. You feel each twitch of his dick, each vein pop and pulse, and the pre that keeps coming down. As you swallow, you bring a hand to cup his balls as you gently squeeze, coaxing out a groan mixed with a moan.
“Do-Don’t stop…” he breathes out.
Slowly you pull back and watch him as his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, his fingers clenching at his sides and his head falling back. You slink back on your knees and quickly take off whatever remaining clothes you had, feeling your body change below the belt slightly to match the man across from you.
Slowly climbing on top and spreading your legs slightly, you slide his dick between your cheeks before feeling the puckered hole stretch. Even though it isn’t your first time, doing it with a new body proved to be challenging all over again. At the same time though, it provided a pleasurable experience. As you feel his length slide in, he brings his hands to your hips and grips gently, rocking into you slowly.
“Fuck…” he groans out. “You’re so tight…” he winces as he continues to rock into you at a slow pace.
You begin to place your hands over his to keep them in place as you stare down at him. “How does it feel to fuck yourself…? I am mimicking your body after all…” you question with a grin.
A breathless laugh slips past his lips as he gazes up to you. “I’m amazing…although I had to get past the original discomfort…” he mumbled.
You nod in response as his pace begins to pick up. “You could at least try to enjoy yourself…”
He immediately shakes his head with a smirk. “After that act earlier…? Like hell I’m gonna take my time with you…” he breathes out before bucking his hips forward.
A cry mixed into a moan is evoked from you before he begins to strike up into your stretched hole. Any attempts to plea and reason have no effect now as he begins to mercilessly pound into you. His hands swiftly switch from your hips to your cheeks as he grips each one and digs in his nails slightly.
“This…is…how it should’ve been from the start…” he huffs out as he slams into you again. “You take me so well…” he hums with a satisfied grin.
Your body begins to tremble with waves of pleasure and pain. Drool dribbles down your bottom lip and spills onto his pelvis. He swipes it off with his fingers and brings it to your lips. “Lick that off of me…” he commands. You part your lips and lap up your spilled saliva quickly. “Good boy…” he chuckles.
As he continues his relentless thrusting, his cock twitches inside more frequently, and his thrusts feel more sloppy and slow. His grip on you tightens. “You owe me this…this release…” he heaves out as he grits his teeth. After one final thrust, his shuts his eyes and parts his lips letting out a guttural moan. His dick stops twitching before he pulls out, and his seed spill out of your abused hole and down your inner thighs.
He falls onto his back beside you and sighs. “…I needed that…so maybe I don’t have to kill you.” He laughs.
You turn your head to him, inching closer before leaning against him. “Right…because I’m a curse…”
——–—————————————————————
I’d wanted to write a one shot for a while. And I was listening to Blackout for the millionth time and all the songs are great for one shots I had in mind. Ultimately I decided on Radar after listening to the lyrics and just crafting up a quick narrative in mind. From the start I wanted it to be smut, but with some plot. This is actually the first time I’ve posted any smut content so apologies if it’s not to anyone’s taste. Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and with that I leave you with one last thing. Have a good one, drink your water, take care of yourself and buh-bye<3
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fcthots · 1 year ago
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RAAAAA RA RA I HAD NOTIFS ON FOR THISSS
but I get it I’m finishing up exams rn you’ve got this boss I’m sure you did great 💪💪💪💪
All I can envision is Jason with a partner who thinks the extra violence is stupid hot. And you know, maybe they don’t love murder, but they’re not gonna discourage their bf from achieving his goals!!!
He texts them at 2 in the morning: “I’m gonna kill someone in a Denny’s parking lot” and they respond (not even thirty seconds later) with: “whatever u say beautiful do u need help dumping the body”
and you know, it’s partially because after you learned what Jason went through, you felt like they had no right to tell him how to live his life. And it’s partially because you know when Jason kills somebody, they deserve it. And a tiny, miniscule part of you also cannot stop remembering Jason, covered in blood, chest heaving, after a guy jumped you in an alleyway and Jason beat the ever loving fuck out of him before taking you back home.
HELL YEAH BABE!!! also i did unfortunately fail. apparently writing hardcore smut doesn't help you in calculus :(
You would not have thought that your first feeling upon seeing your boyfriend covered in the blood of a man who had his hand wrapped around your throat approximately 11 seconds ago would be lust, but fuck Jason looked divine. There's something so gorgeous and ethereal about him when he looks like that. You're not sure if it's the blood or how he defended you. probably both.
But that image of him standing tall over you like some sort of fucked up guardian angel would be seared into your brain forever. You'd be lying if you said you weren't transported back to that moment every time he came back to your apartment covered in some other threat's blood. Something about it shuts your brain off. It makes you feel safe, proves you're safe. He's protecting you. His chest is heaving up and down after the adrenaline rush, and his throat is moving with the effort of breathing.
You shake your head and snap out of your thoughts as you reread the message he sent you.
hey im about to have to kill someone in a denny's parking lot. can you get my hydrogen peroxide out for me?
Your face is heated with the image of how he will look when he comes home. You know that if you play your cards right you can get him to make out with you with the blood still splattered on his face.
You text back.
whatever you say beautiful. let me know if you need anything else <3
Is it bad that you can't wait to see blood in his hair? probably. nope. definitely.
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callieisto · 1 month ago
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This is Kali’s fault. @killakalx
Minors Dni- includes. Slight dirty talk? But? Loving?, marking, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, cumming inside, kind of sappy pillow talk, dom!Clark, fem!reader
Clark Kent is strong enough to pick you up and use you like a fleshlight. He doesn’t, usually, because that’s mean and he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you or anything.
But there are rare occasions, when he’s had enough of being Superman, when he’s had enough of being Clark Kent, where he lets himself tap into those desires to just… use you.
He’s got you pinned to the wall of his apartment, feet not even scraping the floor, his tongue so deep in your mouth you swear he’s trying to make you choke on it. (Doesn’t help that his is a little bit longer than a normal person’s, and his sharp little fangs don’t help much either.) He’s holding you up by your waist, his grip bruising, and when he pulls back he’s out of breath.
“I need you,” he whispers, and it’s the last semblance of a boyfriend who’s gentle or careful with you that you’re going to get for a few hours. His glasses are askew, his hair is ruffled, his shirt has already been halfway unbuttoned thanks to your wandering hands. “Please.”
When you say “okay”, he’s on you faster than he’s ever been on anything in his life. Ripping your shirt down the middle- your bra, too- he’s setting you down on unsteady feet before basically attacking your chest, biting and sucking his way down your body, coming to where the hem of your pants hugs your waist before he stops. He looks up at you, blue eyes nearly eclipsed by his pupil, blown wide with arousal.
They flash gold when they catch the light.
Clark looks like a proper predator, and suddenly you understand why villains get all prickly when they’re dealing with Superman. He’s scary. Your sweet, loving boyfriend, who has never once even raised his voice at you, is downright terrifying.
“I can smell you,” he chokes out, and his voice is dark. Your pants are gone before you can even register his movements, and your underwear are also the unfortunate victims of his super strength. “Can hear your heart beating,” he breathes, a little laugh escaping him as he presses his mouth against the soft skin of your stomach. “Your blood, I can… fuck…”
Aaaaand you’re suddenly on the couch, Clark is between your legs, and he’s eating you out like he’s never had a meal before in his life. Usually he’s careful, controlled, wants to make you feel good before anything else. But right now, he’s just hungry, and he’s getting more enjoyment out of your desperate attempts to squirm away from him and the noises you’re making more than anything else. He makes you cum three times while he mutters about how you’re ‘such a good girl’, and then he’s cradling your face in his hands, cooing at you while you come back down to earth.
“You prepped? Y’ready to take my dick, sweet girl?”
(His southern accent is thick; he looks and sounds drunk on you, chin covered in your slick, big blue eyes meeting yours.)
He doesn’t let you answer, mostly because he knows you can’t. And he knows his dick is huge- he goes slow, usually, but tonight he just needs to feel you cum on his cock otherwise he’ll go insane, he’ll go crazy.
Clark feels properly awful about how you’re already squirming and whining when he presses his tip at your entrance. He wants to do something, but then the tip slips in, and he’s gone.
He pushes in the rest of the way with a wet shlck, curling his body over yours so he can see the way your pussy looks speared on his cock. “Fuck.” He rumbles. “Look at you, taking me so deep. God, it’s like you’re made for it, made for me…”
He thrusts into you, keeping his forearm above your head to brace himself- when your hands curl around his bicep and squeeze all desperate, he blacks out for a second. When he wakes up again, you’re squealing, and he’s rubbing circles against your clit with his free hand, and you have some bite marks that are stark against your skin.
“Cum for me.” He begs, and his voice doesn’t even sound like his own. “Cum for me right now, I know y’can do it, I want you t’do it, you’ve been so good f’me, so fucking good, the best, taking me so deep and hard like it’s what you were made for- please give it t’me, darlin, please.”
When you sob all high and pretty and spasm on his dick, he feels like he’s seeing stars. Actually, it’s better than stars, because he’s just looking at you, at the tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, at the red marks you leave when you dig your nails into his skin. Clark sees everything.
And then he cums, pushing deep inside, a choked gasp of your name dropping from his lips. He screws his eyes shut, his nose wrinkling in that cute way it does when he’s thinking. He moans low and just for you.
… when he comes back to his senses, you’re softly squirming under his weight, grumbling about how heavy he is. He pulls back- and out- watching with amazement as a bit of cum starts to trickle out. He barely resists the urge to follow it with his tongue, because he thinks you’d kill him.
“My sweet girl.” He croons instead, pressing soft kisses to your face. “So good, so pretty. Took me so amazingly.”
“You almost killed me,” you complain, pouting at him. “Women on this planet are not built to handle seven orgasms, Clark.”
He tilts his head. “I only remember four.” He says, raising an eyebrow. “… but I can make it seven, if you want. Really test the limits of the human body, y’know-”
You hit him in the side of the head with a throw pillow. He relents.
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wonderjanga · 3 months ago
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Marvel’s an Old Lady
He acts like an old lady. I don’t know. Let’s say Billy’s been spending too much time volunteering at an elderly home because he doesn’t want to be on the streets skulking around. It’s rubbed off on him.
Like for example, he knits like crazy at the Watchtower. It gives him something to do with his hands, what can he say?
Marvel: *in an all too small rocking chair, holding too small knitting needles, zoned out, listening to the gods argue while making a quilt that’s like twelve feet long*
Hal Jordan and John Stewart: *peaking around a corner, watching Marvel*
Hal: “That’s what I was saying! He does not look okay.”
John: “Hal, I’m sure he’s fine.”
Hal: “Dude, he’s been at this for like two hours straight. No breaks.”
John: “Wait really?” *sounds more concerned now* “I would’ve thought he’d been at that for two days.”
Hal: “Yeah, no. He’s just been sitting there. Knitting. It’s kinda creepy to be honest.”
John: “Damn.” *uses ring to summon a ruler and float it over to measure the quilt*
Marvel: *doesn’t even notice as Zeus is picking a fight with Solomon*
John: “That thing’s like twelve feet long.”
Hal: “What?” *concern amps up*
Later Billy cut up the quilt a little bit and donated it all to a homeless shelter.
Then of course there’s the classic old lady move of giving out candy. He’d give the younger heroes candies. He’d give the younger heroes who have become adult heroes candies. And overall, he’d just give everyone candies.
Flash: *telling Marvel about some problems with Iris* “—And now she’s mad at me!”
Marvel: “Oh, it’s okay Flash. Here, have some candy.” *puts a strawberry taffy in Barry’s hand*
Flash: *sniffles as he shoves it into his mouth, wrapper and everything* “Thanks, man.”
Or
Damian: *got scolded by Bruce and is now silently brooding on the couch in the Titan’s Tower*
Marvel: “Heyyyyy Robin…” *super awkward* “I uh… heard you got scolded by Mr. Batman.”
Damian: *mini bat-glares him*
Marvel: *awkward pause* “Take a candy.” *gives him an orange taffy*
Damian: *stares at the candy for a bit* “Tt. I have no need for pity-filled gestures.”
Marvel: “It wasn’t meant to be pity-filled. I just thought candy would make you feel better. Sorry.”
Damian: “Don’t waste your apologies.” *eventually eats it*
or
Marvel: *gives a blood covered Red Hood candies even though the man just shot someone in front of him*
Batman: “Don’t encourage him.”
Red Hood: “Definitely encourage me. I have no idea where you get these but they are delicious.”
Then, the pie making.
Supes: *walks into kitchen cause he smells pie* “Marvel? Are you making pies?”
Marvel: *taking a fresh pie out of the oven* “Hm? Yeah! Ms. Kent told me about a new recipe to try.”
Supes: “Ms. Kent? Lois doesn’t make pies.”
Marvel: “Ohhhhh. No. I meant the other Ms. Kent. Your mom. We discuss and make pies and pie recipes. I’ve been to the farm a couple times too so we could bake together- Your mom hasn’t told you?”
Supes: “No?? Why do just casually know my mom like that?”
Marvel: “We met through a Facebook group. Want to try my blueberry?” *holds up pie*
Supes: “Yes??” *gets a slice and takes a bite* “This really good.”
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fl3shm4id3n · 19 days ago
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ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝. 𝐀𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴅᴏᴊᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ - ᴍᴀꜱᴄ (ꜰᴛ. ᴛᴇᴇᴢᴏ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴅᴏᴡɴ)
Tw: Squid Game 2 SPOILERS, Smut, toxic relationship, overthinking, talks about death, blood, swearing, morning after kinda, kissing/making out, eating out, bathroom sex, somewhat mirror sex, unprotected sex (if you're gonna get silly, wrap your willy), titty grabbing/nipple pinching, reader has the implant, pussy drunk/high? Thanos.
A/n: This is gonna be the final part of the mini series :(, but I'ma write more later. (Unless I should be a fourth part where Thanos dies and Reader gets screwed by Nam Gyu :P). P.S. Sorry that it's short :(
Masterlist
ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.
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That day you woke up due to that loud song that played and lights on. The song was already getting on your nerves. You had been lying on your left side. You felt something heavy on your waist and a warm presence pressed behind you. Slowly you opened your eyes and saw what it was. It was Thanos arm, he was still sleep next to you. It didn't bother you or think much of it, until you moved and felt something off under the covers. You lifted the blanket up, then saw that your pants and panties were off. Shit! You thought, you moved Thanos arm away from your waist, making him groan in his sleep and went under the thin cover. Quickly you put on your panties and pants on as fast as you could before anyone could notice you.
You felt how someone had lifted your blanket, right as you pulled your pants up to your waist. It was Thanos with a cocky smirk. "Morning beautiful." He said, he then got under the blanket with you. Proceeding to kiss on the lips. Hungrily and messy. It took you by surprise but you kissed him back. Well, attempted to kiss him back. But his tongue was already rubbing against yours. Mixing your saliva together like many times. He was like an animal, a rabbit possessed by his heat. You then felt how his hand quickly went under your sweater and shirt, running his hand through your skin until he reached your breast. Giving it a good squeeze, making you gasp around his lips.
"Thanos!" you said, as you pulled away from his lip. That didn't stop him. He went straight to your neck, kissing and nibbling, still grabbing and squeeze your breast. You moaned softly and quietly. "Thanos! We're gonna get caught!" You tried to warn. "Who care at this point. Everyone should know by now that you're mine." He teasingly growled against your ear, as he continued to bite and kiss, while squeezing your breast. Proceeding to pinch your erect nipple. You couldn't help but enjoy it. This turned you on in many ways, specially the idea of getting caught in the moment. It's never truly happen, but the adrenaline kicked in every time you and Thanos would perform those acts in a public place.
"HAYO!" Someone yelled as they pulled away the blanket from both you and Thanos. You hid your face against Thanos shoulder, not wanting to face the person who had just done that. "Oh? Getting down and dirty early in the morning?" It was Nam Gyu, who asked so mockingly. Thanos glared at his friend, obviously pissed by the interruption done by his underling. "Do you mind ass face?" Thanos told him annoyed, but Nam Gyu simply laughed. "I was just fucking withya bro. I'll let ya'll continue, unless you let me watch." He said, while wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. You then moved away from Thanos and got up. "I have to go to the bathroom, before the game. I'll back." You said, walking away from your bed to go to the bath. As the two of them watch you leave. Thanos then looked at his friend and kicked his leg. "Nice going asshole." He hissed at him, while Nam Gyu just rolled his eyes.
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Once again, you were in the bathroom. Taking care of business, once done. You went over and washed your hands. When you finished, you splashed the cold water onto your face and rubbed your eyes a bit. To wake up. You weren't a huge morning person, but you've managed to get up and start your day. You wished you could sleep more, but you couldn't. As soon as you get home, you'll lay in bed for the rest of the week, if not month. You were so tired. These games were stressing you the fuck out.
Then the door opened, of course. It was the one and only Thanos that had come in. Who had a goofy smile on his face. "Hey babygirl." He said, walking over and leaned his body against the minty green tiles, next to the pink sink that you had been washing your hands and face on. "How do they keep letting you in here, this is the girl's bathroom." You reminded him. "Pfft, you think they care? I doubt it, plus." He paused, walking over to you. Now standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him. Your back was pressed against his muscular chest. "I wanted to finish what we started." He whispered next to your right ear. Making a shiver run down your spine.
You let out a breathy sigh. "You're like a rabbit in heat, I swear." You commented, Thanos only smirked, then he turned you around to face you. "Last time I remembered, your favorite animals are rabbits." He said, while looking down at you, deep into your eyes. You weren't sure if he was high or not. You didn't care at this point. "Well, you're right." You responded, you felt how Thanos hand gently grabbed your chin and cheeks, softly squeezing them together, making your lips pout. He then leaned forward and kissed your lips. It was a hard yet soft kiss. You kissed him back. The kiss was possessive yet loving. It felt like the first time you and him kissed. Very passionate and loving.
As you both kissed, you ran your hands up his shirt. Your fingers touching and caressing his fit body. You caressed his ribs, then your fingers and hands moved to his back. Feeling his strong back, you could still feel the scratches from last night and the previous time. He then pulled away from the kiss, leaving your breathless like many times before. He unzipped and took off his jacket, then came his shirt. You couldn't help but stare at his chest and abs, they look exactly the same. Without a warning, Thanos picked you up and sat you down onto on the edge of the pink sink. He processed to take off your white vans off, then followed by your pants and panties. Then spread your legs as he got on his knees.
He smirked, seen how wet you've become already. He loved it. He carefully laid your back onto the mirror while your lower back was slightly touching the faucet. Thanos placed your thighs over his shoulders again, and processed to devour you. You whine and threw your head back against the mirror. Feeling his tongue inside you, hitting almost every spongy surface he could, while his nose rubbed against your now sensitive clit. After a few licks, he pulled away and processed to suck solely on your clit. Making you whine, even louder. You then processed to grind your hips against his mouth. As you began to move, Thanos went back to tongue fucking you.
"Thanos!" You moaned loud enough to make the walls of the bathroom to echo. As Thanos continued his assault, you lifted your shirt up, then popped your breasts out of your bralette. Beginning to squeeze your own breasts, plus pinching your nipples. This brought you back. That one time you went with Thanos to record a music video, you had sex in the dressing room before filming. He had you lying on the vanity, with your back against the the mirror, eating you out like the animal that he was.
You felt your body flinch when you felt him lick the sweet spot inside you. "Awe! Fuck!" You gasped, as you pinched your nipples slightly harder by that electrical like feeling. You were close, he knew you were close. Instead of stopping, he kept going. He snarled and growled like an animal, desperately trying to get you to cum. Your body contorted and arched itself in pleasure. Your breathing quickened, you felt out of breath, your body was heating up and you were over the edge. Not once did Thanos stopped, he just kept going. Licking and sucking your clit non stop. "T-Thanos!" You called out his name, but he didn't stop. Until your orgasm hit your body like a bus, having you seeing stars. You had let out about the loudest of screams, the guard outside probably heard you.
As you recovered from your orgasm, Thanos got up from his somewhat sore knees. He took out his cock, then carefully and easily slipped inside you. Making you moan again, you were still sensitive from a couple minutes ago, but you didn't care. You wanted this, you needed this. Again, he placed your ankles over his shoulders, beginning to thrust slowly yet harshly. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip as he thrusted. He groaned, feeling how you were still tight, after two nights of sex. Your pussy was addicting to him. If you were a drug, he'd have no problem taking you as much as he could.
His pace went faster by the minute, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling him closer as he gripped onto the sink tightly, as is his life depended on it. You gasped when you felt his angry tip hitting your G-spot. "Fuck! I! Love! You!" He growled, as he drooled. "You're the love! Of my fucking! Life!" He claimed as he thrusted even harder, at this point he was plowing into you. He then licked his middle and ring ringer, beginning to rub your clit. Fast, just like his pace. Making you whine and arch your neck backwards. "Fuck! Thanos!" You moaned, screwing your eyes shut. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. Not from sadness but from pleasure.
This felt like your first time all over again, he was your first time. At first you were a bit embarrassed that you were still a virgin at that age, but Thanos? He didn't mind. He made it special. It felt that way, it was that way. Except, instead of doing it in his bedroom, it was this bathroom. As you continued down memory lane, Thanos kissed your lips again, traces of your orgasm still lingered in his tongue. You didn't mind, you kissed him back, slowly going weak by each thrust. You both continued to kiss, until Thanos came inside you again. Making you both moan against each other's lips. Except, his moan sounded more of a growl like groan than a moan.
You remained frozen, and so did Thanos. Both of you were panting, sweaty and hot. Your hair stuck to your forehead and side of your face. Thanos turned to look at you, giving your sweaty forehead a loving kiss, making you close your eyes. Before leaning his own, sweaty forehead against yours. "I love you." He said, more calmly and out of breath. You responded, breathless. "I love you too." You said, as you panted softly. "No more games." You said, still tired and defeated. "No more games, I promise." H e responded, as he gave you a kiss on the lips. "You better." You finished against his lips. Kissing him back.
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ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ
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bunnis-monsters · 3 months ago
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Shark Week
Male!Shark Hybrid x Fem!Reader
Bunni’s Monstertober Event
Oct 14th
Oct 13
Oct 15
summary: you decide to visit your boyfriend even while you’re still cramping and on your period… not knowing that he’d turn into a feral beast at the sight and scent of your blood.
warnings: reader is on their period, pussy eating, blood, belly bulge, breeding, two cocks, double penetration
Requests are closed, but my commissions are open!
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When you showed up to the beach in a pair of lounge shorts and a tanktop instead of your usual bathing suit, he knew something was up.
He swam up, settling on a rock a few yards from the shoreline, observing you as you scanned the water to find him.
Before you could spot him, he ducked below the waves, only his dorsal fin poking out of the water.
It was the late afternoon, and next to no one was at the beach. If you squinted, you thought you saw a figure a ways down, but you couldn’t be sure.
So that means you and him would most likely be… alone.
You yelped when he popped up a few yards away from you, quickly swimming up and waiting for you to wade in.
“Hey…”
He tilted his head when you stayed on the shore, his dark eyes blinking before he smiled. Those sharp teeth used to terrify you, but now you ended up smiling back.
“Coming in?”
This made you sigh. Truly, you really wanted to go swim with him and spend time together… but you knew how sharks worked.
Mostly,
“Not today… can we just talk from here?”
He paused, his smile fading. “… why? You don’t want to touch me today?”
“No, no sweetheart it isn’t that-“
Your lover sulked, his tail swishing in the water as if he were a disappointed puppy. “No hugs?”
Your lip wobbled before your legs moved on their own. You found yourself waist deep in the water in seconds, your lover letting out a surprised grunt before curling his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest.
It didn’t take long for him to sense the blood in the water. His eyes went black, his grip tightening on your waist as he buried his face into your neck.
“Blood… were you hurt? Who did this?”
He growled lowly, his vision getting a bit blurry. “You have to get out of the water, I can’t control m-“
“I w-wasn’t hurt…”
Although his mind felt fuzzy, he tried his best to listen to you, noticing you had turned shy and quiet.
“I’m… on my period. I’m uh… bleeding down there…”
He perked up, his black eyes moving down your body to your shorts.
His body went stuff, and he began to rut agaisnt your pathetically, struggling to control himself. All he wanted now was to taste your blood, to feed on you and properly stuff you full of cum.
“N-not here!” you yelped, glancing around the beach.
After whisking you away to a safe spot, he lifted his lower body out of the water, revealing his two cocks has poked out of his slit in excitement. But he didn’t fuck you yet, no, his eyes were on your fat, bloody cunt.
He glanced back up at you. The sight of his sharp teeth so close to your pussy was a bit alarming, and you were unsure what would happen when he went into a feeding frenzy while eating you out… but god, you knew a few orgasms would help with your cramps.
He lapped at your folds, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head at the taste of your blood. After that it was history.
His face was buried in your cunt, lewd moans es aping his lips as he slurped and licked up all of the blood he could, and in the process was making you cum like crazy.
When he pulled back to look up at you, most would consider a shark hybrid covered in blood terrifying, but you thought he looked adorable. All blissed out from devouring your blood, a hand pumping at one of his cocks as the other rutted against your leg…
He really wanted to be inside of you.
The hybrid was nearly 4 feet taller than you, easily towering over your chubby frame. It felt nice, feeling his neck nuzzle into you and purrs rumble from his chest as his cocks prodded at your cunt.
You had taken both before, and with all the orgasms, you were able to take both cocks easily. The stretch was always uncomfortable at first, but he did his best to ease you into it.
The sight of your blood staining his lower belly and two cocks had them twitching. After fucking into you like the wild animal he was, he came buckets, making your belly bulge from how full it was of his cum.
Sex with him was always exhausting, but especially now that you were on your period. As you drifted off to sleep, he made sure you were safe and warm before leaving to catch you some fish.
You were his mate after all, and you’d be carrying his shark pups soon… you would need lots of strength to bear his litter~
———————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat
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sunsburns · 8 months ago
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been thinking about dating college!art and you get into a really big fight until he decides to show up at your dorm *cough* make up sex *cough*
i had wayy too much fun with this… SMUT 17+
“i’m still mad at you, you know.” there’s no real bite to your bark, not when your voice is breathless, your cheeks are flushed, and your hands keep running through his hair.
“yeah, i know,” art drawls, his voice softening. he says it because a part of him knows it’s true, but he can’t help the faint smile that grows on his face. he knows you won’t stay mad for long, but he still feels the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. he’d do anything to make it up to you. with every press of his lips, he mutters a quiet “i’m sorry,” against your skin, then grazes his teeth along your ankle before making his way up your leg.
he’d thought of a million different things to say to you, how he would stand his ground or cave to your defences. but all of it was thrown out the window the moment you opened that door. you were wearing his shirt—or maybe it was patrick’s, maybe even tashi’s—and a pair of panties. the sight of your messy desk, covered in textbooks, notebooks, and your open laptop, reminded him you were doing homework, or trying to. but the ache in his chest at the thought of you hating him was overwhelming.
it was killing him knowing you were upset, and he was the cause of it. that’s why art had taken a trip to the nearest farmer’s market the moment he was off the court, and he bought you flowers and your favourite snack and knocked on your door.
now the flowers are forgotten by your desk, the snacks on the floor, and you’re still trying to keep up the act that you’re mad at art. but the truth is, you can’t even remember what you were mad at him about in the first place. 
the way he looks at you, with such earnest remorse and tenderness, makes it hard to hold onto your anger. you sigh, running your fingers through his hair again, feeling the tension between you start to melt away.
“i hate how you do this to me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. art’s eyes meet yours, and he pauses, his lips hovering just above your knee.
“i know,” he says again, his voice filled with a mix of regret and hope. his hands roam up the sides of your thighs, fingers brushing your ass before they turn into the curve between your legs. “but i’m here now,” he presses a kiss against your hot skin again, making his way up, up, and up. “and i want to make it right.”
as he continues his gentle kisses, moving slowly and tenderly, you feel your defences crumbling. the anger that once felt so strong is now just a distant memory. art’s presence, his touch, his voice, his words, all of him- it’s all you can think about.
he looks up at you, sitting on the bed while he kneels before you. you’re watching him, waiting for his next move when he is still between your legs. 
when you run your nails against his scalp, art doesn't bother hiding the quiet whimper that slips past his lips before he closes his eyes and leans his head towards your arm. 
he lets you hold him while his hands trail up your sides, reaching and groping anything he can before his fingers tug at your panties, and he carefully slips them off you.
when he kisses your clit, you rest your leg over his shoulder, heel pressing against the muscles of his back. his arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer while he starts to eat you out. 
art starts slow, calculated strokes of his tongue against you, running it in tight circles against your clit, dipping it lower when he gets a little more confident. when you arch your back and whine, pushing his head closer so you can ride his face, he starts to pick up the pace, hoping to hear that sound come out of you again.
when his tongue pokes at your cunt, it draws a loud moan out of you, blood rushing to your ears. “fuck, art,�� you whimper, grinding against his face. “feels so good.”
art seems to like it more than you, eyes closed in bliss, humming and moaning against your cunt, each vibration from his mouth making you spiral. his hips buck up into nothing, but he doesn't seem to mind as his hands hold onto you tighter, as if he is afraid to lose you. 
“you’re so pretty like this,” you barely manage to get out, your heart thumping against your chest.
art moans again at your praise and finally opens his eyes to meet your burning gaze. his low, nearly pathetic whine with his eyes on you was what it took to push you over the edge.
art lets you ride it out, he lets you grind against his face, he lets you use him again and again and again until you’ve had your fill and there is nothing left of him.
and when you cup his cheeks and bring his face to yours and kiss him like you have a one-track mind, he has an inkling feeling that you're not mad at him anymore. you press your forehead against his, hand cupping the back of his neck, and he lets out a sigh and you breathe it in. 
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, one more time, to make sure you know he means it.
you smile, offering him half a shrug and another kiss. “just let me return the favour.”
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selineram3421 · 1 year ago
Text
Deer Demon Child Headcanons
Requested
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Alastor & Child Reader
Warnings? ⚠
⚠ implied death, mention of blood, mention of cannibalism, weapons-gun ⚠
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It was a surprise to everyone that a child wandered into the hotel.
A little deer demon.
That's you
Climbed up one of the bar stools and stared the cat man down until he finally noticed them.
"Uh..hey? Kid."
"I want juice!", you pointed at a bottle behind him that was on the shelf.
"That's not juice."
While distracting you with magic tricks and cards games, Husk called Charlie to let her know that a new guest had arrived.
The Princess ran to get to the lobby and rushed over to the bar.
"Hi! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!", Charlie sings out before noticing the little deer. "Oh."
Everyone is called into the lobby.
"Ok!", Charlie claps her hands together and introduces you to the group. "Everyone, be nice and say hi."
Later on you are asked by Vaggie and Charlie how you got to the "red place."
Mostly everyone left and it was only you three. Four.
"Before I woke up here I was with my moma.", you said while coloring your drawing. "Dad had a shiney toy in his drawer and showed it to me a lot of times. It made fun clicking noises. I wanted to play with it, so I took it out."
As you were explaining you drew out the shape of a gun.
"I wanted to show Moma but she looked scared. And when I tried to make the clicky noise it came out different. It made a bang and then Moma fell."
You drew your mother covered in red.
"I tried to wake her up but she wouldn't get up. I got sad and started crying."
You didn't notice Charlie and Vaggie looking sad.
"Then Dad came home and started screaming at me and took the toy away. And then everything went dark for a while."
Picking up your paper, you showed the girls your drawings.
"And then I woke up to the red sky!"
Charlie hugged you after and said that she'll make sure you go to Heaven.
Oof sad backstory.
Husk literally growls at Alastor everytime he mentions venison for dinner.
Alastor has joked to others that he'll eat you but stopped once he grew fond of you.
"Little fawn.", he smiles as he greets you. "Would you like gingerbread cookies?"
To be honest, everyone is worried that Alastor might kill you. But surprise, surprise! They are shocked when he takes care of you instead.
You're the favorite hotel guest.
Anyone that tries anything will be taken care of.
Charlie did a talent show day and you sang, surprising everyone with your angelic like voice.
You're a curious little deer and the hotel guests and staff find you in odd places.
Once Angel found you upsidedown behind the couch that was against the wall.
"What are ya doing back there?", he asked after pulling you out.
"Niffty said there was treasure!", you smiled.
Alastor finds it adorable that you go to him when someone you don't know/scary person is in the hotel.
Sir Pentious is told to put all of his weapons away.
Everyone dubs you as Alastor's child. Even the Radio Demon himself.
Vaggie threatens Alastor after he jokes that you'll be a cannibal like him.
Of course he'd never do that but its funny to see Vagatha's and Husker's pissed off faces.
Alastor keeps up with the human news and learns that your father went to prison. So the Radio Demon waits for the man to fall.
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Art will be provided. (Later)
~Seline, the person.
Part 2
Art
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @faioula16 @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
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janiehellion · 6 months ago
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Healing Touch
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ONESHOT
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X READER
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HANDJOB / TEASING / EDGING / ORGASM DENIAL
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.033
ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S2E05—ᴄʜᴜᴘᴀᴄᴀʙʀᴀ & S2E06—ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ
MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES
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You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the Georgia sun burning down on you as you walked over to Maggie and Glenn outside of the house on Hershel's farm.
Every so often, you'd look towards the cars where a few others in the group were working, trying to make the most of the now limited supplies you all had left at the moment.
"I got a lot of corn here," Maggie said, holding up a can. "Maybe we can make some soup tonight. What do you think?"
Glenn laughed, "Soup sounds fine, I think. As long as we don’t have to eat beans again. I think I’m starting to sprout beans myself."
"Hey Maggie," you shouted over to her. "How’s everything going so far? You two need any help?"
Maggie gave you a small, but rather distracted, smile. "It’s been a quiet run, so we’re okay. We just came back a few minutes ago with some new supplies."
You nodded. "That's good. Means we won't starve anytime soon. Hey, listen, I heard Daryl’s still inside the house. Do you know how he is feeling? I really hope he is feeling better. Everything that has happened, I just... I don't know. I still can't wrap my head around it."
"Well, dad took care of him, just like he did with Carl, so I wouldn't worry too much about his condition. And if it would've worsened, dad would've told Rick already, that's for sure. But what has happened to him out there, and then the bullet? I don't know him well enough, but I think that he’s too stubborn to admit he even needed help in the first place. And that ear necklace? I'm sorry, but that was beyond creepy."
You remembered… Daryl has been out there, trying to find Sophia again. Of course, it all had to go sideways. You didn't know the details exactly, but you remembered how he had dragged himself back to the farm, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Covered in dirt and blood, and barely conscious.
Then, just when things couldn’t get any worse, Andrea took a shot at him from the roof of the RV. She’d been told to hold off by Rick, Shane, and Dale, but she fired anyway, hitting Daryl in the head, with the bullet grazing his temple.
"I’ll check on him," you now said, putting the supplies aside again. "You're right, he's too stubborn to admit it, but he needs someone to make sure he’s not pushing himself too hard. And if he could, he'd already be out there again."
As you walked towards the farmhouse, you passed by Rick, who was busy organizing and looking through different maps. He looked up at you, giving you a nod. "Hey," he said, his voice sounding rather exhausted. "Are you going to check on Daryl? Or are you going to help Beth and Lori in the kitchen?"
You nodded. "Yeah. I’m going to make sure he’s okay. Daryl's been through hell while trying to find Sophia."
"Good idea. He’s definitely been through a lot, that's true. I mean, we all have. But just… be careful with him. You know how Daryl is."
You laughed, shaking your head. "I know, Rick. That’s why I’m going to make sure he stays put and tied to the bed. Don't worry."
As you walked into the farmhouse, you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen, where Lori was preparing a meal with Beth together for Daryl and the rest of the group.
"Hello," Lori said and looked at you. "Are you going to see Daryl, or do you want to help us? Rick has been annoying me with me apparently needing help, even though Beth is helping me already."
You nodded, giving her a smile back. "Don't worry, Lori. I want to make sure Daryl's alright, you know, after everything that has happened lately."
She gave you a quick and thankful thumbs up before you continued heading to the room in which Daryl was in, but paused for a moment in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The thought of Daryl lying there, probably still hurt and so vulnerable, made your heart ache. He’d always been so strong, but seeing him in such a state was hard to imagine. And just as you were about to open the door, you heard a voice coming from the inside of the room.
You stopped, listening for a moment before pushing open the door to find Hershel standing by Daryl’s bedside.
"Evening, Hershel," you said as you entered the room, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the knot of nervousness in your stomach.
Hershel looked up, smiling at the sight of you. "Hey there, good to see you. I could use an extra pair of hands."
You moved closer to the bed, where Daryl lay, and Hershel continued, "Daryl’s been in and out of consciousness yesterday most of the time, but I’m hopeful he’ll recover fast if he gets the rest he needs. And if you could help changing the rest of the bandages right now, that would be great."
You nodded, taking a closer look at Daryl. "Sure, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I know he can be stubborn, but he needs to take it easy eventually."
"That’s the spirit. I’ve done what I can for now. He’ll need the rest."
You were still looking at Daryl as Hershel took a few steps back, who now moved slightly at the sound of your voice. His eyes opened just a little bit, and he looked at you with confusion.
"Hey, tough guy," you said. "How are you holding up so far?"
"Just peachy, as always," he answered rather annoyed.
You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. He certainly sounded like the Daryl Dixon that you all knew so far. "Well, I’m here now, so you’d better let me take care of you."
Hershel gave you another nod before finally walking out of the room. "Good, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, like more bandages, don’t hesitate to ask. We still got enough medical supplies left if needed."
"Thanks, Hershel," you replied, watching as he left the room.
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the task ahead.
"What’re ya even doin’ here?" Daryl suddenly mumbled. "'M fine. Don’t need no babysittin’ bullshit. Ain't needin' ya 'round here either."
You gave him a smile, trying to hide how annoyed you already were with his usual behavior. "You’re obviously not fine, Daryl. You’ve been through a lot, and you know it. I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like trying to get up and do something you shouldn’t."
He grumbled in frustration, trying to turn away from you. "Yeah… whatever."
You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. "Yeah... Too bad, huh? Because right now, that means letting me help you."
"Ain’t nothin’ you can do that Hershel didn’t already do," he mumbled again.
You set down the small medical kit Hershel had brought with him and pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Hershel did his part, sure, but it’s not just about the wounds. You need to rest and relax, and that’s where I come in. Also, taking off the old bandages and putting on new ones isn't that hard, but I doubt that you can do it yourself. And Hershel just left the room, so it's up to me now to change the rest of them. I don't care if you complain about it or not."
You then began to carefully take off the bandages from his side, where the crossbow bolt had pierced itself through. Daryl winced a little, but he didn’t complain so far, his pride keeping him quiet even though you could see how uncomfortable it was for him.
"You know, for someone who’s always acting so tough, you’re a real damn mess right now," you said, trying to break the ice with a bit of humor. "How’d you end up like that anyway? What even happened out there?"
Daryl smirked a bit to himself. "Ya think I’m gonna tell ya a story now? Hell, jus' get it over with."
You shook your head and laughed quietly, focusing on cleaning the wound first. "Hey, I'm not the one that looks like the wrong side of the bed became sentient and beat the ever-loving shit out of you. So you’re going to have to deal with me being the one to help you. It’s either that or I get someone else who’s less careful."
"Less careful?" Daryl asked, and he winced again as you applied antiseptic to the wound. "Sounds to me like yer enjoyin’ this."
You stopped for a moment and looked at him with a teasing smile. "You know what? Maybe I really am enjoying this. Or maybe I just want to make sure you’re not going to cause us any more trouble, even though we all appreciate what you did. Especially Carol."
"Ya think I need ya to look after me? I can handle myself jus' fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at you anymore.
You soon finished cleaning the wound and then continued with the fresh bandages. "Oh, I’m sure you can, Dixon. But that’s not even the point. The point is, you’re not in any shape to be running around and playing redneck cowboy."
Daryl moved slightly again, trying to get more comfortable. "Ain't in need to be told twice. Thank ya very much."
You stopped wrapping the bandage around him, waiting for him to get into a more comfortable position. "Stop it with the damn sarcasm, Daryl. For someone who’s always trying to play it cool, you’re really not doing a great job of hiding how much this is bothering you. You do realize that looking weak and needing help are two different things, right? You're far from being weak, and you've done much more for this group than you can probably imagine, even if you're doubting yourself and telling yourself that it's all bullshit in the end." You told him and then continued, putting on the final bandage. "But it's not. And right now, you need to let yourself be looked after, and you need to give us the chance to care about you. Even if it's only for once."
There was a moment of silence, and for a second he looked at you only to look away again, clearly struggling with giving you an honest answer about what he thinks.
You took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m done with the bandages. How about a quick check of your other injuries?"
Daryl nodded quickly, but you could see he was starting to relax a bit. "Yeah, fine. Jus'… make it quick, will ya? Ain't got no time for this bullshit."
You smiled and began checking his other wounds. "So, what’s your actual excuse for not telling us what has happened?"
"Ain't worth tellin’. Jus' 'nother day of me bein’ stupid," he grumbled back as an answer.
Soon enough, you finished checking his other wounds and stood up, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re all patched up, try to get some rest. We’re all counting on you to be back on your feet soon; don't forget that."
He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I’ll try to stay outta trouble while bein' tied to this damn bed."
You smiled and began to pack up the antiseptic and unused bandages, putting them back into the small medical kit. "That’s all I ask for. Get some sleep, Daryl. You know you need it. Something to eat will be ready soon."
As you put away the last of the bandages, you noticed how tense Daryl seemed to be. So you decided to take an extra moment to help him relax, thinking how a little extra care couldn’t hurt.
Your fingers soon massaged his side as you sat down once more, careful not to touch the wound. It was meant to ease the tense muscles around it a bit, but as your hands moved over his skin, you felt that he seemed to react differently when he gasped slightly.
"Ya really don’t have to," he started, but he stopped talking as you continued, your touch slow and feeling soothing.
You looked up, now looking into his eyes. "Why not? You’re all tense. And it’s not just about the injuries; your whole body’s been through a lot. A little extra care might help. There's nothing wrong with it."
He grunted, trying to remain tough, but his breathing grew heavier, betraying his growing discomfort, and you noticed how his body responded to your touch—a reaction he was clearly trying to hide.
His cock began to harden under the sheets. The outline of it was becoming more pronounced, and you could see the rise of the sheets with each breath he took.
You tried to ignore the current awkwardness of the situation, but it was impossible not to notice, and even more impossible not to look at it. Your fingers stopped, and you hesitated momentarily before continuing to massage his side, with Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and another groan escaping his lips.
"Ugh... Daryl?" You asked quietly, your voice full of curiosity as you realized what was happening. "Are you… okay?"
He opened his eyes and turned his head away from you. "Yeah, jus', jus' let it be. Shit, jus' stop!"
But you couldn’t ignore the evident hardening beneath the sheets anymore. As you moved slightly in your seat to get a little bit closer to him, your hand accidentally brushed against his cock, and Daryl’s reaction was immediate—he sucked in a breath, his body tensing even more.
"Ain’t needin’ ya to… to be all handsy now, goddamn it!" Daryl's voice was trembling, his body shaking a bit, and his muscles straining, even as you didn't continue to massage him. But the sudden power you had over him was intoxicating, and you decided to take your chance and act on it.
You reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets covering his lower body. Daryl’s breathing hitched as you exposed him, and his cock was already hard, pushing against his pants. You could see it clearly now, the visible outline of it.
You smirked at him as you pulled the waistband of his pants down, just enough to pull his cock out and free it from his underwear.
As you pulled it out, Daryl's eyes widened as he watched you handle him. There was no need for words; the look on his face said it all. He felt vulnerable.
You gave him a smile, your hand now wrapped around his throbbing cock. "You look like you're about to lose it, Dixon."
He glared back at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. "Ain’t fair, ya know…"
You leaned in close to him, your lips touching his ear. "Well, who said life was fair?" Your hand started to move, giving his cock a slow, torturous stroke that had him groaning. "But maybe… if you ask nicely…"
"God… Please," he groaned again, but it was clear he wasn’t used to begging, yet the desperation in his voice was there beyond doubt.
"Good boy," you murmured, and you could see how his eyes slowly closed as he gave in to your touch and words.
You soon picked up the pace, your hand moving faster, his hips bucking into your hand. "Shit, jus' like that," he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut even more tightly.
Fuck… How he wanted it. Your hand working his cock, making him forget about everything that has happened…
You could tell he was close already. His cock twitched in your hand, and the quiet sounds he was making were turning more desperate. "Please," he gasped again. "I… I can’t..."
"Oh? Already, huh?" You teased him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it that had gathered there.
You smirked, enjoying the power you had over him. "Do you like this?" You teased him further.
"Yeah, jus' like that…" He panted, his body trembling. "Please... I need ya to touch me more. Can't fuckin' take it..."
"Touch you where, Daryl? Use your words. Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you want."
"My damn dick... please, jus' touch it." You immediately switched your pace back to pump him slowly again, and each stroke of your hand made him shiver, his moans growing a little louder with every touch.
His hips bucked involuntarily, but you kept your rhythm controlled, never speeding up, not letting him get the orgasm he wanted so desperately.
"I thought you were a tough guy. But look at you—so damn needy already. Come on, Daryl," you mumbled. "You’re not done yet. Not until I say so."
He whimpered, trying to thrust into your hand, but you stopped him, keeping him on edge.
"Fuck, please…" He groaned in frustration. "Don’t stop… jus' fuckin' finish me off already!"
You laughed, your grip tightening just enough to torture him a little more. "And why would I do that? You need to learn so much more about patience."
With each stroke, you used different pressure and speed, sometimes going slower just when he thought he was about to finally cum. The feeling was almost unbearable for Daryl, and you could see it in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed again and again, his breathing only coming out in gasps.
"How does it feel, Daryl? Being held on the edge like this?" You asked, looking over at the door to listen if somebody was coming closer.
"Shit, feels so damn good…" He gasped, his voice strained. "I jus' need… I need to… Fuck!"
You smiled, leaning closer to him once more when you were sure that you'd be left alone. "Not yet, tough guy. I want to see just how much you can take."
You continued your teasing, your strokes slow and torturous. "You can take it. I know you can. You want it, don’t you? You want to make me finish you so badly, but you’re going to have to earn it," you whispered.
Daryl could only nod. "Please… Hell, I can't take much more!" 
He couldn't take it anymore. The teasing—it was all too much. He wanted to cum. And he needed you to make him cum. Hell, he loved it. Your hand pumping his cock, teasing him, making him groan with need. The way you toyed with him, bringing him so close only to pull back? Shit, he was losing it… And the way your fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking it just right… It was driving him insane.
You simply grinned, feeling excited because of the power you held over him. "But that's good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how much you wanted it and how much I made you wait."
His eyes were still squeezed shut, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the urge to give in.
With that, you continued to edge him, every touch, every stroke keeping him on the brink, pushing him to the limit of his own control.
And the feeling of sliding your hand back and forth along his thick shaft, the way he groaned and moaned quietly, trying to keep himself quiet just for you—it was everything you wanted...
"Fuck, please," he moaned again, his voice now breaking slightly.
His cock was pulsing in your hand and still leaking pre-cum, and you knew this was the moment he might not be able to hold back any longer. And just when he was about to finally stumble over the edge, you stopped pumping him completely, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.
Daryl’s eyes flew open in shock, anger, and need. "What the fuck?" He growled, his voice hoarse. "Why’d ya stop?"
You leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Because I wanted to see you beg for it, Daryl. And you’re not quite there yet."
He glared at you in need, his cheeks red, and sweat started to form on his body. "Ya can’t jus' leave me like this! Please!"
"Oh, but I can," you answered with a smirk. "And I will. Unless you really beg for it."
Daryl closed his mouth, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitching around as he gritted his teeth, his pride and ego fighting with his desperate need. Finally, he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow.
"Please, please, let me cum," he whispered and finally started to beg and whimper a little more. "Please! I can't take it anymore. Please…"
God... How much he needed you. Desperately. Your hands, your touch, everything about the way you teased and pumped him, the way you handled him… It was like you knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed, and you were giving it to him for free, if only he would beg for it...
You smiled, satisfied with his response. "That’s better. Now, let’s see how much more you can take."
You went back to your teasing, your hand moving slowly over his cock, feeling him twitch and pulse again with every touch. His moans grew a little louder, even more desperate, as you brought him to the edge again and again, only to stop just before he could finally cum.
By the time you finally decided to give him what he needed, Daryl was nothing more than a trembling and pleading mess, his hips bucking toward you again and again, his eyes now looking desperatly at you.
"Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Daryl," you whispered quietly. "Look at you, trying to keep quiet for me, trying to hold back so hard. Taking it like you should… Don't stop looking at me."
You sped up, your movements rough and fast, giving him no time to adjust to the now quick pace. His body was shaking, and you could feel he was more than ready to snap.
"Yeah, you want to cum so bad, don’t you?" You teased. "Go on, Daryl. Cum for me. Show me how much you need it. How much you want it."
With a choked groan, Daryl's body tensed. His orgasm hit him hard, his cock pulsing in your grip as he came all over your hand. You kept pumping him through it, milking every last drop out of him.
"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" You mumbled. "Let it all out. You did so well for me."
He collapsed back against the bed, completely spent and exhausted, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.
You reached for a towel next to the small medical kit, wiping your hand and cleaning up carefully, making sure not to leave any evidence of what had just happened behind, before you looked down at Daryl, a wide smile on your face.
"Fuck," he panted. "That was… fuck..."
"Told you I’d take care of you," you answered him, giving him a wink.
He opened his eyes, looking at you quite exhausted. "Yeah, ya did…"
He didn’t protest as you cleaned him up; he just watched and stared at you with those intense blue eyes, still catching his breath with his mouth slightly open.
"There," you said, as you were finishing everything up. "All cleaned up again."
Daryl didn’t say anything for now, just giving you a small and a little ashamed nod as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty face.
"Get some rest now, tough guy," you whispered, pulling back and standing up. "You’re gonna need it. Remember: Be a good boy for me."
"Yeah… I... I..." He grunted in response, unable to even finish his thoughts after hearing your words, which were still making his head spin.
You simply smirked, heading towards the door. "Anytime, Daryl. Anytime."
As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied as well. Daryl Dixon might be tough as hell, but in that moment, he was completely and totally yours.
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1K notes · View notes
amomentsescape · 10 months ago
Note
hi hi! I was hoping you could do slashers with a super bubbly and affectionate s/o who would beat up anyone who dares hurt the slasher while still holding their sweet smile
Slashers with Sweet and Dangerous! Reader
Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo
A/N: So I got a bit carried away and wrote this as if Reader is willing to kill for the Slashers. So hopefully it's not too intense for what you were wanting! Feel free to let me know what you think :)
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Freddy Krueger
He knew there was a reason he was so drawn to you
You were sweet, kind, and just an overall ray of sunshine that Freddy never knew he needed
He loves basking in your warmth
But seeing you hold that damn grin while ripping out someone's throat for just punching Freddy has him weak in the knees
He loves the affectionate sweet side to you, don't get him wrong
But knowing that you can do a complete 180 makes him feel like he's in his own beautiful type of dream
He feels more comfortable telling you his plans now and the types of ideas he has for killing future victims
And you just sit there all happily and nod along like he's telling you a bedtime story
It's cute but also so foreign to him
He has a hard time remembering that you can be just as deadly as him when you want to be
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Michael Myers
He honestly has no idea how to feel about this situation
It took him some time to get used to being with someone so cuddly and happy all the time
He wasn't much of a fan of it at first, but something inside him refused to let you go or kill you
But seeing you smile over his victims and even step in to prevent him from getting injured has him confused
He is more than capable of protecting himself
He doesn't need you getting involved
But at the same time, knowing he isn't the only one with this grotesque side makes him feel.... content, in a way
He just doesn't like you stepping in too much
His victims are his, and he refuses to share
But if you save him from getting stabbed or set on fire
Well... then that's fine he guesses
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Jason Voorhees
You two are practically different sides to the same coin
He comes off as deadly, incapable of emotions, and just an overall killing machine
But when he's with you, he's the sweetest and most kind man you have ever met
You're practically the opposite
You come off as an innocent, bubbly goody-two-shoes to most of the public
But when someone dares hurt Jason, a hidden poison emerges from within you
Jason never thought you were capable of picking up his notorious machete, nonetheless swinging it right through someone's skull
He just froze up in shock at this realization
He was drawn to how sweet you were to him, but knowing that you're capable of killing only makes him more happy
He was always worried that you would leave him after dealing with his darkness for too long
But knowing that you aren't all sunshine and rainbows has reassured him
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Thomas Hewitt
Considering what his family eats every night for dinner, he would have hoped that you were capable of similar actions to him
Killing is just a way of life to him, so knowing that you can do the same is so normal
That isn't to say that he wasn't surprised the first time you stuck up for him
But if anything, that surprise was immediately followed by a sense of relief
If you can do that, then you can fit right in with the rest of his family!
They liked how affectionate and kind you were to Thomas, but they were always worried that you were going to be too soft for their way of life
Now he knows there's nothing to worry about
Well, maybe except for getting on your bad side
You always have that sweet smile on your face, and he'll be damned if he pisses you off one of these times
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Bubba Sawyer
The first time you killed for him, he couldn't help but jump around in glee
You're just like him!
You're covered in blood and guts but still smile sweetly at Bubba
Just like he does for you
It honestly just reinforces the idea that you were meant to be together in his mind
You stick up for him, and he sticks up for you
With that being said, he does still paint you as this sweet little angel that needs to be safe at all times
He doesn't want you to get your hands dirty unless absolutely necessary
So he prefers for you to stay away from all the carnage he goes through on a daily basis
But he won't try and control you
As long as he is met with that soft smile and big hug at the end of a long day, Bubba is content
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Brahms Heelshire
Oh...
He's flattered, don't get him wrong
The fact that you're willing to protect him shows that you really are devoted to him
And he loves that
But he also doesn't want you intruding with his desires
That person is going to die?
Brahms wants to be the one to see their last breath
It's not very often he gets to feel like this, so he wants to soak up every exhilarating second of it while it's there
And you're just so pure and kind that he doesn't want you becoming all tainted like him
Your job is to be the good in Brahms and take care of him
Not to let this darkness take over
You provide, he protects
That's all he asks for
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Norman Bates
And to think after all of this time, Norman just assumed you were like him
Quiet, sweet, affectionate
He had no idea you'd be capable of fully plunging a knife into someone's neck just for saying a couple mean words to Norman
But he secretly couldn't help the way he admired your blood splattered face, that smile he loved so much shining through it all
He likes feeling protected by you
It lets him know that you really care about him
And the fact that you can flip from one side to the other is so intriguing to him
In every other situation, you speak softly and gently laugh at the smallest things
But when one bad thing happens, the darkness creeps out
It doesn't freak him out as much as he would have originally thought
He just still can't believe that these sides to you are coming from the same person
Who is he to judge though?
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Billy Loomis
Billy was immediately attracted to your warm energy
But he was also hesitant that he would somehow contaminate you with his trauma and dark fantasies
He wanted to keep you as were: the bubbly and happy partner that was always by his side
But when a last minute heist was going wrong, he would have never expected to look over and see you all bloody, a stained knife in your hand and a lifeless body on the floor
When he called your name, all you did was look up at him and smile
Billy just about lost it
He had always thought that he needed to be the one to protect you and himself
But seeing you throw yourself into violence for his sake was absolutely beautiful
He didn't think you'd be capable of something like this
But knowing that you are makes him love you that much more
You're nothing but perfect for him
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Stu Macher
He won't say it out loud, but he's the tiniest bit scared of you
Not in a bad way by any means
If anything, he thinks it's sexy
And he can see a bit of familiarity in the way you act too
You both enjoy laughing at stupid things and keeping the energy up when needed
At any given moment, you two are all over each other and smiling so wide that you can feel your cheeks burn
You two make the ultimate power couple
But if someone dares say something bad about you, they're dead the next morning
And if Stu gets hurt by one of his attempted victims, you better believe you'll be there to finish the job
Stu honestly loves how deceiving you can be
No one would ever look at you and expect you to have this darker element
But to be fair, he's in the same boat
No one would ever suspect him of such behavior
And that's probably why you two make the perfect team
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Vincent Sinclair
He never thought he'd ever meet some who cared for him the way you do
Especially resorting to violence just to keep him safe
This must be some sort of dream
You practically tore this person to shreds and yet, you're still able to turn back at Vincent and smile sweetly, asking if he's okay
Are you even the same person he was just cuddling with 10 minutes ago?
He worries that you'll get yourself hurt one of these times, so he tries to advise you against doing something like that again
But he won't deny the thrill it gave him seeing you act so... differently
Just please don't step in unless absolutely necessary
If anything happened to you, he wouldn't know what to do
He knows you can clearly take care of yourself, he just doesn't want to risk it
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Bo Sinclair
What a precious little thing
It would be a lie to say that Bo wasn't immediately drawn to your softness and positivity
You radiated sunshine, and it was a new experience for him
He has always wanted to be the protector in his relationships
And he truly had no clue that you weren't just another damsel looking to be rescued
He remembers the first time you saved his ass
He turned up to see the man with a metal pipe sticking out of his chest
All the while, you're standing behind him, that sweet little smile still on your face like usual
Bo was at a complete loss for words
He loves this side to you
He still likes to feel all bad and tough
And he loves when you ask him for help and play up the innocence
But when something comes up, he knows he doesn't need to worry about you
2K notes · View notes
joemama-2 · 16 days ago
Text
velvet lies
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pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8.2k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter
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“You look so handsome like this…” a sultry chuckle is followed by a warm kiss to the lips. The man with a receding hairline laughs in a slimy way, welcoming the woman into his lap. Arms settled around her midsection, indulging in her lips. 
The moment is quickly shut down when an intruding voice cuts in. “Haruka! Some guy is waiting for you at the door.”
With a huff, she pulls back. Lip curled up into a scowl, turning her head over her shoulder to face the man at the top of the stairs. “Tell ‘em I’m busy, damn it!” She snarls out. 
The man sighs and rubs his bald head. “I already did. He said he wants to speak to you, now hurry up here.”
When the door slams shut, she turns back to her customer. “I’ll be back.” She smiles and kisses his wrinkly cheek before getting up and off his lap. She fixes her clothing, a simple tank top and shorts. Looking at the small mirror, she frowns and straightens down her hair. She’s reminded to dye her hair black again to cover up the incoming gray hairs that always greet her nowadays. She applies her usual red lick back to her skin, perking them up with a small pop noise. Her eyes, beady and dark, fixate back up at the door while her feet drag her. 
Once she’s up in the main portion of the building, she rounds a corner and sees a neatly suited man standing at the front desk. The man who called her attention before gives her a certain look before walking off and letting her deal with it. She smiles, leaning against the hardwood. “Why, hello there, handsome. How may I help you today?”
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The man, undeterred and stoic, regards her with barely any emotion. The dark sunglasses on his face obscuring his eyes and Haruka’s brow twitches for a moment in annoyance. She still keeps up her game, however. Resting her cheek against her palm. “Well? How can I—”
“Ms. Haruka, right?” 
The stranger’s voice is deep and defined, causing Haruka’s eyebrows to raise in interest. Her smile widens and she hums playfully. “Ah, well depends on who’s asking. If it’s you, then you can call me Candy.” She whispers the last part, leaning in like she told him a big secret; giggling to herself. 
The man spares a brief glance down at his wristwatch. Haruka notices its pristine gold, oh how valuable. An idea is already forming in her head when she looks back at the man’s black, circular shades. But what he says next causes her body to go into a temporary state of comatose. 
“Are you the mother of Y/N L/N? If so, please come with me. There are some things my bosses would like to discuss with you.”
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It’s the day after Christmas. You luckily got the day off and you’ve just been lounging around your place with Koji. Eating some leftovers and cleaning up a bit, watching him rave about the new toys he got; it’s a pleasant sight. Satoru hasn’t texted you anything today, and while you’re not holding him to that expectation, there’s a part of you that worries he’s still angry. Or maybe even upset at the gift you got him. It probably brought up negative emotions for him. But it was a last minute thing and you assumed he would greatly appreciate it. 
Maybe your assumption was wrong. 
You shake off the thought, refusing to dwell on it. Satoru has always been hard to read, and overanalyzing his silence won’t do you any good. Instead, you focus on Koji, who’s currently making his action figures reenact some elaborate battle scene on the coffee table. His laughter echoes through the room, bright and infectious, pulling a small smile from you.
“Koji, don’t forget to put the smaller pieces back in the box when you’re done,” you remind him gently.
“Okay, Mama!” he chirps, not looking up from his imaginary world.
You take another bite of your leftovers, savoring the quiet domesticity of the moment. It’s not often you get a day to just relax like this. Still, that nagging thought about Satoru lingers in the back of your mind, no matter how much you try to ignore it. Your fingers reach up, feeling for the star pendant Suguru got you. Smiling to yourself as your fingertips graze over the metal. You’re suddenly reminded of the fact that you haven’t thanked him. 
You grab your phone, thumb hovering over his contact. It’s a small debate to call or text him, unsure of which is more…appropriate. Maybe he’s busy or maybe he wouldn’t mind a phone call at this time. You bite your lip, inhaling deeply then letting it go, deciding that your gratitude would feel more authentic if he actually heard you say it. 
You click the call button and within the second ring, his voice lightens up the other end. “Hello?”
You clear your throat before speaking. “Hey, Suguru,” you say softly, twirling the pendant between your fingers. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Not at all,” he replies warmly, a hint of curiosity in his tone. “What’s up?”
As you pause for a moment, your thoughts are being gathered. “I just wanted to thank you… for the gift. The pendant, it’s beautiful.” Your voice dips slightly, the sincerity in your words undeniable. “You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot to me.”
There’s a brief silence on his end before he chuckles softly. “I’m glad you like it. I figured it’d suit you.”
You can’t help but smile, your fingers still tracing the small, intricate patterns on the pendant. “It does. Koji said it makes me look pretty.”
Suguru laughs at that, the sound soft and familiar. “He’s not wrong. The kid’s got good taste.”
A small heat pools in your stomach, cheeks blushing a bit. When you glance over at Koji, you notice just how engrossed he still is in his action figures. “He’s been talking about that Spider-Man you got him nonstop. He even took it to bed with him last night.”
“Really? That’s adorable,” Suguru comments, his tone light but carrying an underlying fondness. “I’m glad he liked it. He’s a great kid.”
“He is,” you agree, your voice softening. “I’m lucky to have him.”
There’s a pause, the silence between you both comfortable yet loaded with things left unsaid. Finally, Suguru breaks it. “How are you doing? After last night, I mean. Satoru told me he was going over.”
The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to answer. “I’m… okay,” you eventually get out, though it feels like a half-truth. “It was just… a lot. But we did it. For Koji.” 
He hums from the other side. “Yeah, that’s good. I figured.” A moment of pause before he continues. “Satoru can be… intense, especially when it comes to you and Koji.”
You let out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
“But other than that, it was good?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
He smiles. “I’m glad, you two deserve a good Christmas.”
With one hand, you bring your dirty dishes to the sink, the other keeping your phone to your ear. “What about you? Was yours good too?”
Suguru’s voice sighs wistfully. “It was, yeah. My team and I spent it handing out some gifts and hot chocolate to the kids. Seeing their faces light up with joy like that, it makes you feel really good, you know?”
Your heart warms at his words, picturing Suguru in his element—kind, compassionate, always thinking of others. You’re reminded back to the time you saw him that day with Koji. “That sounds wonderful,” you speak softly, leaning against the counter. “You’re really amazing for doing that, Suguru. Those kids are lucky to have someone like you.”
He chuckles modestly, the sound low and comforting. “I don’t know about amazing, but thanks. It’s just something small I can do. Makes the holidays feel more meaningful.”
You smile, twirling the pendant again as you consider his words. “It’s more than small. It’s thoughtful. It’s... you.” The words slip out before you can stop them, and you feel your cheeks flush immediately. Embarrassment floods your insides. 
There’s a brief silence on his end, followed by a soft laugh. “You’re too kind. But coming from you, I’ll take it as a high compliment.”
You shake your head, grinning despite yourself. “It’s not kindness. It’s the truth.”  
Koji’s excited shout from the living room snaps you back to the moment. He’s discovered a new pose for his Spider-Man, proudly showing it off as he runs over. “Mama, look!”  
Suguru must hear the commotion, his tone lightening further. “Sounds like someone’s having a good time.”  
“He is,” you say, watching Koji’s eyes sparkle with joy. You nod in astonishment. When your son is satisfied with your praise, he rushes back to the coffee table. “He’s been nonstop since yesterday. I think this Spider-Man might be his new best friend.”  
“Then my mission was a success,” Suguru replies with a chuckle. “I’ll have to find something to top it next year.”  
You bite the inside of your cheek while his words bring a pang of guilt. It’s strange; how easy it is to talk to Suguru, how natural it feels to share these moments. And yet, there’s a part of you that wonders if you’re leaning on him too much, especially with everything unresolved with Satoru. You wonder if what you’re doing is wrong, and considering Satoru’s reaction to his friend’s gift to you, you feel like you’re almost…betraying Satoru. 
“Thank you again, Suguru,” you repeat, your voice calmer now. “For everything. You didn’t have to go out of your way for us, but you did, and it means a lot.”  
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says gently. “You and Koji... you guys are important to me too, you know?”  
The weight of his words settles over you, warm and steady. “That means a lot to me too.”  
There’s another comfortable pause before Suguru clears his throat. “Well, I should let you get back to your day. I’m glad you called, though. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”  
“Okay,” you promise, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Take care, Suguru.”  
“You too,” he says, his voice lingering for a moment before the call ends.  
As you set your phone down, you glance at Koji, who’s now back to his world of action figures. You can’t help but feel grateful for the people in your life now who care so deeply about you and your son.  
But even with that gratitude, your thoughts drift back to Satoru, the press, his parents. And you ponder over the idea of what he’s doing right now, whether he’s holding onto the photograph, if he set it up somewhere; and what it might mean for the three of you moving forward.
There’s no time to start drowning in your thoughts any longer. You’ve already done that yesterday and practically every other day before that. A bigger question has been gnawing at you, and now that you have some free time, you figure you should look into it now. Grabbing your laptop, turning it on and clicking on Google once the screen awakens. The small business card is placed to your right as you type away the company name in the search bar. 
You click on the first link. 
It takes you to an entire directory of the services of Carlisle & Harlow. 
The website loads quickly, its sleek design showcasing high-end properties and exclusive services. The polished images of luxurious estates, private jets, and lavish vacation homes scroll past as you navigate through the various tabs. The site is clearly designed to appeal to an elite audience—every detail is immaculate. You skim through the different services offered, including property management, concierge arrangements, personal assistants, and lifestyle coaching. It all feels a bit too polished, almost like an invitation into a world you’ve only ever seen from the outside.
You feel a slight unease in your stomach. Your mind races back to the business card Evelyn gave you—one that seemed so out of place given everything else you’ve seen in your life. You click through to the “About Us” section, hoping to find more answers about what the company actually does or who else is behind it. 
The page provides a brief history, detailing the company’s founding by the woman, Evelyn Carlisle and her now deceased husband, Noah Harlow—both of whom have since made a name for themselves in the luxury service industry. 
You click on the “Our Team” link. Several executives are listed, each with brief bios that read like glowing resumes. Next, you click on the “Contact Us” tab, staring at the address listed—an upscale location in the city’s financial district. It’s the kind of place where secrets are hidden behind high walls and the name on the door probably has a lot of power behind it.
Taking a deep breath, you mull over this instance. Maybe it’s time to investigate further, but you’re not sure how much deeper you want to dig—especially not without some sort of plan. But that Evelyn woman seemed a little strange to you. It’s just the fact that everything felt quite planned out to you, like someone told her to come to your workplace and offer a job interview. Your intuition has always been right and ever since you became a mother, that increased tenfold. But, this seems like it might have more of a good outcome than a bad one. 
You wouldn’t have to maintain the hard balance of working two jobs and a child. As you continue scrolling and clicking on multiple tabs within the website, one catches your interest. 
‘About Our Founders’
You’re met with pictures of Evelyn and her husband, posing with what you can only assume are other businesspeople, with paragraphs of their background to go along with it. Nothing looks out of the ordinary so far, until a particular picture. 
It’s Evelyn and her husband. Posing with Satoru and his father. 
Your heart stops for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the screen. The four of them are dressed impeccably, their expressions polished with smiles that feel carefully rehearsed. The caption beneath the photo reads:  
“Celebrating five years of partnership between Carlisle & Harlow and the Gojo Group, fostering innovation and excellence in high-end luxury services.”
Your stomach churns. The idea of Satoru or his family being involved in this job offer. And it almost makes sense now—Evelyn showing up at your workplace, the too-perfect job offer, the strange sense of everything being orchestrated. It wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. Unless it is?
Your fingers hover over the trackpad, trembling slightly as you click on the bio beneath Evelyn’s photo. Her background is as pristine as expected: Ivy League education, years of experience in luxury branding, and a reputation for impeccable taste. But it’s the section about her connections that catches your eye:  
"Evelyn Carlisle maintains close ties with prominent families, including the Gojo family, and has been instrumental in crafting tailored solutions for their elite clientele."
Your head spins. This isn’t just a job opportunity—it’s a calculated move. But why? Why now? And why through Evelyn instead of directly from Satoru or his family? You glance back at the business card on your table, its gold lettering gleaming in the soft light. It feels heavier now, like it’s carrying the weight of unseen motives.  
Koji’s laughter breaks through your swirling thoughts, grounding you momentarily. You look over at him, playing so innocently, so unaware of the tangled web you’re beginning to unravel. Taking a deep breath, you close the laptop and sit back. Whatever this is, it’s not just about you anymore. If Evelyn’s offer is part of some larger scheme, you’ll need to figure out the truth before you make any decisions.  
Maybe you’re overthinking this. The Gojo Group is huge and very obviously powerful, of course, they would have ties with Carlisle & Harlow. It’s not that far-fetched, right? It’s just a job opportunity, don’t think too much into it. 
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It’s around the next day at work now. Walking to the café, phone in hand. Rereading Satoru’s first text to you since you last saw him, it’s not entirely underwhelming, you just hoped that he would have expressed his gratitude for your gift. 
Satoru:
Koji left his jacket here from last time, I’ll bring it over today
Your lips purse, thumbs going haywire over the bright screen. Should you ask if he enjoyed the gift? If he even opened it in the first place? Or maybe you’re dragging this out far too much. With a deep breath, entering the cafe, you type back:
You:
I thought you had work today 
Satoru’s response comes almost immediately, as if he was waiting for you to text back.
Satoru:
I do, but I can swing by during lunch. The place is a little far from me, can I come to your job and drop it off?
You hesitate, wanting to type back a ‘no’ as soon as he asked. It would feel a little weird if he came. Satoru and your workplace just don’t seem to mix—and you don’t want them to. If he came, it would only further solidify the fact that he’s integrating himself into your life. Again, you’re probably overthinking things, he’s just dropping off your son’s jacket. But the thought of seeing him right now feels oddly nerve-inducing. 
You:
Sure, I’m on lunch at 12
When you drop the pin of the café’s address, you pocket your phone and set your stuff down, tying the apron around your waist. Hana, on her phone texting, barely looks up when you enter. It’s becoming a bit more repetitive nowadays. Patting down the apron, you speak up. “Still talking to that Naoya guy?”
She hums and nods, giggling at something that was messaged before swiftly typing back a response. Your lips purse, brows knitting at her lack of acknowledgment for you. This guy must really be entrancing her. “He said he was coming today.”
“Oh, really?” You ask, offering a small smile. “I’ll finally meet the lucky guy.”
Hana’s eyes flick up at you briefly before returning to her phone, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Hm? Oh, yeah. but don’t embarrass me, okay?”  
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you grab a few boxes to refill the supplies up front behind the counter, cutting them open. “I’ll try not to. Just don’t expect me to be on my best behavior if he’s rude.”  
She scoffs, though her grin betrays her amusement. “He’s not rude. You’ll like him, I think. He’s… different.”  
You arch a brow, intrigued by her tone. “Different, huh? Guess we’ll see.”  
Hana waves you off, clearly too engrossed in her conversation to elaborate further.  
And so, the morning drags on, and you can’t help but notice Hana glancing at the door every few minutes, a mix of anticipation and nerves written all over her face. Meanwhile, you busy yourself with the usual flow of customers, though your own nerves begin to creep in as the clock inches closer to noon.  
When the bell above the café door finally chimes, you glance up instinctively. A tall man with sharp features and an air of confidence steps in, scanning the room briefly before his gaze lands on Hana. His hair is slicked back neatly, and he’s dressed in a tailored coat that screams wealth and status. The tips of his hair dipped black, his eyes are so cat-like that it almost freaks you out at first.  
Hana’s face lights up as she quickly puts the cleaning supplies that were in her hands down and waves him over. “Naoya!”  
He strides over, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leans in to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. “Hana,” he says smoothly, his voice low and self-assured. 
Your eyebrows raise at the blatant show of affection in front of not just you—but the rest of the customers. It’s slightly unlike Hana because you remember her telling you how much she despised PDA. Maybe Naoya is making her come out of her shell. That’s good, right? You watch the interaction from behind the counter, your initial impression of him forming almost immediately. There’s something about his demeanor—charming, yes, but also a little too smug for your liking. Your senses are telling you to be subtly on guard around this man. 
Hana glances over at you, her smile widening. “Naoya, this is my coworker—”  
“Friend,” you correct with a playful smile, giving her a tiny look. It’s strange how she was just going to introduce you as a coworker when she always calls you her friend. Not thinking too much of it, you step out from behind the counter to extend a hand. “Nice to meet you, Naoya. I’m Y/N.”
He takes your hand, his grip firm but calculated. His eyes flicker over you briefly, as if sizing you up. If possible, his grin widens, eyes growing more crescent-like. “Pleasure’s mine,” he says, though the smirk on his face doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  
“So, you’re the one who’s been keeping Hana so distracted lately,” you remark lightly, folding your arms.  
Naoya chuckles, his gaze shifting back to Hana. “She’s easy to talk to. Hard not to get distracted by her.”  
Hana blushes, clearly pleased by the compliment, but you can’t shake the nagging feeling that there’s something a little… off about him.  “Well,” you say, forcing a polite smile, “welcome to our humble abode. Let me know if you need anything.”  
Naoya nods, his smirk unwavering. “Will do.”  
As you step back behind the counter, you catch Hana giving you a warning glance, silently begging you not to say anything more. You just shrug, grabbing the rag Hana previously discarded to wipe down the counter, though you can’t help but keep an ear on their conversation. They convert over to a booth in the corner, seemingly for some privacy. 
Something about Naoya sets your instincts on edge. Maybe it’s the way he carries himself, or the way his smile feels more like a performance than genuine warmth. He’s reminding you of Satoru, just more insidious. It’s probably a little rude of you to have such a critical judgment of the man who’s making your friend swoon, but isn’t that what friends, do? Making sure the men or women that come into their lives are worthy of it? Whatever it is, you make a mental note to keep an eye on him—if only for Hana’s sake.  
You stop eavesdropping. Hana’s a grown woman, if anything, she knows what’s more right for her than you do. Besides, you’re one of the only ones working right now, so it’s better to focus on delivering customer service than ensuring the man in the corner (who has been keenly drifting his eyes towards your figure) is good enough for Hana. Hana, oblivious to your discomfort, continues chatting with Naoya, her smile wide as she laughs at something he says. Her back is turned to you, and all you can do is concentrate on the rising sense of unease in your gut. It’s the way Naoya’s posture remains open and confident, but there’s a hardness behind his eyes that doesn’t sit right with you. He seems like someone who expects to get what he wants, and the thought of him using his charm to manipulate Hana makes you clench your fists beneath the counter. You’re just trying to understand the strange energy he brings into the environment. Maybe it’s your overactive imagination, but you still can’t shake the perception that there’s more to this man than Hana is seeing.
As you refocus on your tasks, you can physically feel the weight of Naoya’s gaze lingering on you. It’s subtle, but unsettling—like he’s paying more attention to you than he is Hana. You shake it off, putting your mind into the register as a customer walks up to place an order. However, the uneasy feeling stays with you. You move through the motions of your shift. Every time you briefly glance over to the booth, his gaze is drawn to you. Not in the way you’d expect a person to look at someone they’ve just met, but with something more calculating. It’s almost as if he’s analyzing you, but why?
You don’t even know how long it has been, at least 15 orders later, when the two walk back up to the front. Hana grabs your attention. “Y/N, Naoya brought up a really good idea. His friend owns that new bar I was telling you about a few weeks ago! Do you want to go out tomorrow after your other job?”
You glance up, a bit surprised by the invitation. It’s not like you haven’t been out with Hana before, but something about tonight feels odd. Maybe it’s Naoya’s presence, or maybe it’s the weird sense of being observed earlier. Still, it’s a chance to unwind, and Hana seems genuinely excited.
You give a soft smile, though it feels a little strained. “I don’t know, Hana. I’ve got a lot on my plate. Plus, I’m not sure about the bar idea... not really in the mood for crowds.”
Her eyes widen, and she steps closer, lowering her voice. “Come on, you deserve a break. You’ve been working so hard lately. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
You meet her eyes, trying to gauge her sincerity. She’s always been good at getting you to loosen up when you're feeling overwhelmed. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go for just a little while, but you still have reservations about Naoya. “Alright, I’ll think about it. I’ll see if I can get out earlier,” you say, trying to keep your tone light. “But no promises.”
Hana’s face lights up. “Yay! I knew you’d come around.” She looks over her shoulder at Naoya, who’s standing a few feet away, reading the two of you with an unreadable expression. 
You suddenly feel like this moment might be the start of something unpredictable. As much as you want to just go with the flow for Hana, a part of you ponders if there’s more to Naoya’s invitation than just a night out. But, for now, you push the thought aside.
“Well, you don’t want to miss out,” Naoya speaks up, chuckling to himself. “Just try. It’s called No Man’s Land. I’ll be there around 10:30 tomorrow night, hopefully I'll see you both there.”
You nod slowly, still hesitant about the whole thing. Something about the way Naoya phrased it—so casual, so sure of himself—rubs you the wrong way. There’s an underlying expectation in his words like he’s already decided that you’ll both show up. You’re not sure if it’s just his personality or something more, but the thought of him controlling the situation leaves you with a strange feeling. Hana, though, looks delighted. “It’ll be so much fun, Y/N. Just relax. A drink or two won’t hurt.” She flashes you a grin before turning back to Naoya, all smiles as she talks about what they’ll do at the bar.
You’re like an outsider, watching as Hana becomes more entangled in Naoya’s charm. You wonder if she sees it too—the little things about him that don’t add up. The way he already seems like the type of man to be just one step ahead with a plan. But she’s excited, so you don’t want to rain on her parade. Besides, you can always back out later if it doesn’t feel right.
Luckily, she sees him out right after. 
And unluckily, you’re waiting outside on your break for Satoru sooner rather than later. 
You glance at your phone once more, watching the minutes tick by. Your break feels longer than it should, and the anticipation of seeing Satoru again only adds to the anxiety that’s been building ever since your last interaction. You tell yourself it’s just a quick exchange—Koji’s jacket, nothing more. But every moment feels charged as if something is on the verge of shifting.
The cool air outside offers a bit of relief, though the tension in your chest doesn’t quite let up. You stand near the corner of the café, eyes scanning the street for any sign of him. The sound of footsteps approaches, and you turn, only to find Satoru strolling toward you with his usual carefree aura.
“Hey,” he greets, his tone light, but there’s something different about the way his eyes stay on you—something that feels almost too familiar. He holds out the jacket. “Koji’s jacket. Didn’t want to leave him without it.”
You take the jacket from him, the weight of it making you more aware of the subtle intimacy of the moment. “Thanks,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I appreciate it.”
He doesn’t say anything immediately, just watches you for a beat too long. You shift on your feet, suddenly feeling acutely aware of the silence hanging between you.
“Is that all?” you ask, hoping the question doesn’t come off too abrupt.
Satoru tilts his head as if considering something. “What do you mean?”
God, you hate it when he plays stupid like this. It forces you to be outright with what you want to say. Standing up straighter, chin tilting high. “I mean…like—well I guess what I’m trying to say is that…did you open…the gift I gave you?”
Satoru’s gaze shifts slightly, his usual simmering confidence faltering just enough to make you second-guess yourself. He pauses like he’s weighing your question more carefully than he typically would. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped—if you’ve asked something too personal or too vulnerable. The silence stretches between you like a taut wire.
“Your gift?” he finally says, the corner of his mouth lifting just a bit. He sounds almost amused, but there’s a hint of something else in his voice, something you can’t quite pin down.
You feel a wave of heat rise in your cheeks, but you stand your ground. “Yeah. The one I gave you on Christmas.” The words feel clumsy as they leave your mouth, but you can’t take them back now.
Satoru’s expression shifts, the air tensing slightly. “I did,” he says simply, as though it’s nothing. “It was… nice.”
You want to push him further, to demand more of a response, but something about the way he says it makes you hesitate. Is that all? You want to ask again. Was it just “nice”? That’s all? After everything—the thought you put into the gift, the small but meaningful gesture—you wonder if maybe it didn’t even register with him the way it did with you. Maybe you were right, he didn’t even open it and is now coming up with a bullshit response because you put him on blast. 
But you don’t want to push too hard. You already feel like you’re treading on delicate ground. So you force yourself to smile, even though it feels a little stiff. “Well, I’m glad you liked it,” you reply, not entirely sure if you believe your own words.
There’s another beat of silence, and then Satoru shifts his weight slightly, signalling that he’s about to leave. “I should get going. Got some things to take care of,” he says, but he doesn’t immediately turn away.
Instead, his eyes flicker down to your hands, where you’re still holding Koji’s jacket. “Take care of yourself,” he adds, his tone softening just a bit.
You nod, trying to hide the strange pang in your chest. “You too,” you reply, though your voice is quieter now.
His lips thin into an awkward smile. It’s one you give a stranger or someone you barely know—but that’s how things feel between you now, isn’t it? It’s really not worth dwelling over the tiny things that further more prove the horrid line of connection between you two. But for some reason, it still hurts and picks at your heart. 
That moment is quickly splashed away when a familiar—but teeth-gritting voice squeals from behind Satoru. Your grip tightens on Koji’s jacket. Satoru’s shoulders tense up. 
“Satoru! Why’d you leave me in that boutique? It took forever to find you!”
She appears next to Satoru, her presence immediate and unmistakable. Her eyes flicker between you and Satoru with a mix of scrutiny and something else that you can’t quite place. She’s dressed in something designer, as usual, with that polished, effortless look that screams of wealth and status. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, a quiet challenge in her eyes.
You feel a knot twist in your stomach, an all-too-familiar sense of discomfort settling into your chest. Satoru’s gaze meets yours for just a moment before he shifts his attention to Himari. “Sorry, didn’t mean to leave you hanging,” he says, his tone light but lacking its usual warmth.
Himari, not seeming to notice or care about the tension in the air, flashes you a tight-lipped smile that screams fake. “Oh, well look who it is. The leech.”
“Himari.” Satoru gruffs under his breath, giving his girlfriend a dirty side-eye. 
“What? One minute we're spending the day together and the next you’re here with…her.”
Your jaw clenches, noticing the tug Satoru gives the other woman to the back of her dress, lowly whispering something into her ear. But her facial expression doesn’t deter, and neither does her snaky persona. 
“I thought you had work.” You utter, eyes flickering back to Satoru. 
His brows tighten, huffing out an exasperated breath. Before he can respond, she does it for him. “If you consider being by my side and treating all my needs work, then yeah, he is working.” She giggles at her own joke, making a show of turning his head towards her and plopping a kiss on his pink lips. It lasts only a few seconds before he pulls away. 
But even those few seconds feel like a lifetime.
You feel the bite of Himari’s words, even if they’re clearly meant to dig into you. The word “leech” still stings, even though you know it’s not intended for anything other than a cruel jab. Satoru’s response, or lack thereof, makes the situation all the more uncomfortable. His eyes flick to you for a brief second before turning back to Himari, his expression more quiet and guarded
 One question sounds throughout your brain. Why are you even with her?
You stand there, the tension heavy in the air between the three of you, white-knuckling onto Koji’s jacket, as if it could anchor you through this awkward, uncomfortable moment. Himari’s gaze holds yours for a moment longer like she’s trying to read you, trying to see if you'll react. You want to say something, anything, but you can feel the weight of the situation hanging on your tongue, making it hard to even speak.
Satoru looks between the two of you, his jaw tightening slightly. "Let's go," he mutters, more to Himari than to you, though you can tell he’s trying to smooth things over. Himari, however, isn’t having it. She steps forward, a small smirk on her face as she eyes you again. 
“So,” she starts, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “you two still playing catch-up or is it ‘out of sight, out of mind’ now?” 
Her clipped tone is pointed, deliberately meant to prod, and the weight of them sinks in—her intent clear. Satoru doesn’t reply, simply glancing at you with a silent apology in his eyes—if you can even call it that. You want to scoff at his lousiness. It’s clear she’s trying to assert her dominance in the situation, but you’re not sure whether it’s her trying to put you in your place or if it’s something else entirely.
You force a tight smile, the words you're looking for escaping you. “No need to worry,” you manage to say, the words barely leaving your lips as you turn to look at Satoru one last time. “I’m sure you both have things to do. I’ll get back to work.”
Satoru doesn’t protest, and Himari just gives you another dismissive glance. "Whatever," she mutters under her breath, but you catch the taunt in her voice. She might be playing it off, but you sense otherwise. 
As they walk away, the weight of the encounter lingers in the air around you. You stand frozen for a moment, the jacket still in your hands, and then—almost instinctively—you turn on your heel and head back inside the café. Your heart still pounds in your chest, the sting of Himari’s words lingering long after they’ve both left.
You don’t even know what hurts more—the fact that Satoru’s dismissive attitude didn’t change, Himari’s words somehow managed to rattle you more than you care to admit, or the fact that he barely…stood up for you. It is selfish to at least hold him to a certain degree—a degree where he has the decency to protect you from the cruel shit his now girlfriend so nonchalantly delivers towards you? Maybe how he acted during that first unexpected encounter was all for show.
And of course, the pain in your chest feels more like a slow burn now, another brutal—unwanted reminder that things between you and Satoru, whatever they were…are long gone.
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An Izakaya of this caliber is something Haruka would have only dreamed of sitting in. Warm lighting is stationed above them, inside their own private room while she drinks away and away—solely because the people before her are buying. There are dishes of food scattered around, some picked from and others haven’t been touched yet. “You know, I really appreciate you spoiling me for the past two days, it’s nicer than any man has ever treated me.” 
She laughs to herself, casually leaning back on her palms, holding her pitcher of beer back up to her lips and sipping like a madman. Emi and Kenji Nakamura regard the woman with equally disgusted faces. Beside them is their personal lawyer. 
“So,” Haruka starts, burping and leaning forward once more. “What’s this all about my precious daughter, huh?” Her lip quirks up in a sneer at the reminder of the child she had and practically threw to the wolves. “Is she acting up again? She’s always been a little troublemaker.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen the articles, yes?” Kenji’s firm voice replies. “Involving your daughter, Satoru Gojo, and their son.”
She chokes on her spit. “What?! Son?! No, I haven’t seen anything! I’m a free spirit and I don’t believe in social media, it’s the devil’s play!”
The couple show no further emotion to her outburst. 
Haruka’s face contorts with an expression of disbelief as she wipes her mouth hastily with the back of her hand, trying to regain some composure. The news about Satoru Gojo and her daughter having a child seems to rattle her more than anything else. She leans back again, almost toppling over from the force of her sudden shift in posture, eyes wild. “I—what do you mean, son?” Her voice cracks, and she shoots a glance at Emi and Kenji, her eyes narrowing. “Are you telling me that boy… and my daughter? They have a child?!”
Kenji’s lips curl into a slight frown, his eyes cold. “Yes, it seems your daughter has kept things a secret for years. The media and everyone else have only just found out.”
Haruka’s eyes flash with something venomous, but she quickly masks it with a laugh, the sound forced and hollow. “Ah, what a little dirty sneak. And, please. You know I’m not interested in all that family nonsense. And that son? How could they even think of bringing a kid into their… situation?” Her head shakes as she scoffs at the thought of you bearing a child of your own. And especially with…him. 
“You may not understand now,” Kenji mutters darkly, before leaning in slightly. “But I think it’s time you start paying attention. Because this situation concerns you more than you realize.”
Haruka’s face twitches, the words hitting her harder than she wants to admit. The weight of the sudden revelation was heavy. She glances down at her beer, swirling it absentmindedly, her mind clearly racing with thoughts she doesn’t want to process. “You’re telling me my daughter has a son with him?” she scoffs, shaking her head. “That’s rich. Really rich.” Her tone is bitter, but the realization of the reality around her seems to slowly sink in, and she takes another long sip from her pitcher to steady herself. “She’s such a goddamn fool, I almost feel bad for her. I provided a lot for her, you know? Then she threw it all away.”
Kenji and Emi watch on in disinterest. The lawyer beside them brings out a formal sheet of paper. “We’d like to offer you a deal, Ms. L/N,” Kenji states. 
Haruka looks back up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Haruka’s eyes narrow, expression shifting from one of indifference to one of calculated curiosity. She shifts in place, wiping her mouth once more with the back of her palm. “A deal? What kind of deal?” she asks, her voice carrying a note of skepticism, but there's a flicker of interest behind her gaze. She leans in slightly, one hand still gripping the pitcher of beer as she lowers it to the table now.
“You see,” Emi starts. “Our only child—our precious daughter is dating Satoru. She probably felt the most disgruntled in this situation out of everyone else. With the suddenness, we fear that everything we have worked for will be put to waste.”
“And with the news of your daughter’s involvement with Satoru Gojo, it has thrown things into disarray for us. What we need is to ensure that this situation doesn’t jeopardize our family’s legacy—both our reputation and, more importantly, our fortune.” Kenji finishes. 
Haruka snorts softly. “I see. So, you’re telling me this little bastard of hers is a problem for you too? What does that have to do with me?” Her words come out sharper than she intends, but she quickly masks it with another bitter laugh.
Emi’s cold gaze sharpens, a glint of something unspoken flickering behind her eyes. “Everything, Haruka. Your daughter’s ties to Satoru Gojo are a direct threat to the family’s interests. And with a child in the picture now… it complicates things further. But we’ve come to a solution, one that involves you—if you’re willing to cooperate.”
Haruka tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she watches the lawyer slide the formal paper across the table toward her. The ink on it is neat, but her eyes flick over it quickly, scanning the contents before she lets out a quiet scoff. “What is this? Some kind of bribe?”
The lawyer, keeping a neutral expression, nods. “It’s an agreement that ensures your cooperation in smoothing over this… situation. If you agree, your involvement will not only secure your own future, but it will also protect the financial interests of both families. In exchange, you’ll receive a position of influence, a stake in the inheritance.”
Haruka’s laughter rings out again, more amused. “Influence? A stake? Do you think I’m some desperate fool who’ll fall for your little schemes? I don’t need your money. I have enough desperate fools willing to give me that already.” She sneers at the paper but then pauses, looking at Kenji and Emi, the weight of their gaze pressing down on her.
She takes another sip from her pitcher, her mind whirling as she weighs her options. A part of her wants to lash out, to dismiss them and their offer completely. But there’s something about the way they’re looking at her, something cold and calculating that makes her pause. The truth is, she’s always been a gambler, and she knows when to fold and when to play her hand. “You really think this is gonna work out?” she says, her voice quieter now, but still filled with an edge of disbelief. “This… deal?” She hesitates, eyes flicking over the paper again, the signature line staring her down. “What exactly are you asking of me?”
Emi leans forward slightly, her posture unyielding. “We need you to leverage your relationship with your daughter. Influence her decisions, guide her actions—anything you can to help steer her away from Satoru. We want to ensure that the child and his existence don’t affect our plans. In return, we offer you protection, money, and a place at the table. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Kenji watches her closely, his expression hard, but there’s a glimmer of expectation in his eyes.
Haruka’s mind races, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her beer glass as she processes the offer laid out before her. The temptation of power, of influence, is hard to ignore, even for someone who prides herself on being a free spirit. But she’s also no fool. She knows this is a high-stakes game—one where the risks outweigh the rewards if she misplays her cards. And the amount of 0’s she’s staring down at is inexplicably thrilling. She’s already imagining what she can buy with it. 
For a long moment, the room is silent, the tension thick. Emi and Kenji both stare at her intently, their eyes cold and calculating, watching her every move. The lawyer remains as neutral as ever, the formality of his expression only adding to the weight of the situation.
Haruka's lips curl into a smirk, the edges of her mouth twitching slightly as she leans back in her chair. “Leverage my relationship with my daughter, huh? You really think I can do that?” Her voice is laced with a mix of amusement and disdain. “You must think I’m a puppet master or something. But I’m not interested in some petty manipulation games.”
Kenji’s eyes flash for a brief second, a flicker of something darker crossing his features. "You know the consequences of doing nothing. You’ve been avoiding your daughter long enough, Haruka. But she’s not the same girl anymore. She's tied to Satoru Gojo now, and that complicates things. We need you to make sure she doesn’t forget her place. The family’s future is on the line."
Haruka’s hand freezes in mid-air, her gaze locking with Kenji's. She can feel the weight of her daughter’s past mistakes bearing down on her, the consequences that could affect everything she’s tried to distance herself from. Her jaw ticks, her eye twitching. What a stupid little girl, I tried warning you, didn’t I? “I don’t care about your legacy or your fortune,” Haruka mutters, her tone turning colder, sharper. “But I’m not stupid. I can see what you’re offering me.” Her fingers curl around the edges of the paper, her nails digging into the surface. “I have one question for you, though. What happens if I refuse?”
Emi doesn’t blink, her gaze unflinching as she answers. “If you refuse, Haruka, you’ll be left in the same position you’ve always been—irrelevant. Your daughter’s problems will escalate, and your connections, your influence, will be stay meaningless. You will never succeed and you’ll lose the tiniest amount of leverage you have. You’ll watch as everything you’ve ever taken for granted crumbles.” She pauses, the words hanging in the air. “But if you cooperate, we can guarantee your future. Your daughter’s involvement with Gojo doesn’t need to ruin you.”
Haruka’s eyes flick over the paper again, the signature line now feeling like an anchor, pulling her down into a world of obligations and consequences. She takes a deep breath, feeling the familiar rush of excitement that always comes when she’s faced with a gamble. It’s the thrill of uncertainty, the pull of what could be hers if she plays her cards right. Her bottom lip is worried between her teeth. 
“So, what you’re saying is... I’m supposed to ruin my own daughter’s happiness for the sake of your precious family’s legacy,” Haruka says, her voice low, almost contemplative. She stares at the paper one more time before meeting Emi’s gaze. "Fine. You’ve made your offer. But just so you know, I’m no one's pawn. I’ll make this work for me too. You’re not the only ones with something to gain."
Emi gives a small, satisfied nod, and Kenji’s lips tighten, but there’s a small shift in his demeanor—one that signals the deal has been struck. "Good," Kenji replies, his voice firm. "We’re glad we could come to an agreement. We will contact you if necessary and when your action is needed.”
Haruka, for the first time, sets the pitcher of beer down, her fingers now gently grasping the edge of the paper. She grins maniacally and signs it with a flourish. The ink is dark and permanent, sealing the agreement.
With the ink dry, she sits back, a smirk curling on her lips. “This will be fun.”
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p0ckykiss · 8 days ago
Text
who's spiderman - mark lee
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summary -> mark lee is your best friend. you would trust him with your life, but you had no idea he was hiding such a big secret until tonight.
warnings -> female!reader x mark, friends to lovers, fluff
you sighed dramatically and flopped back onto the couch, legs draped over those of your best friend. “mark, I hate art.”
mark stopped in his tracks, a nacho chip halfway to his mouth. “but…y/n, you’re majoring in art.”
“i knooow,” you groaned, throwing your head back. “but i have like fifty projects due and not enough time to do them.”
mark grinned, finally crunching on the chip covered in cheese. “i said you should’ve started earlier.”
“psshh…just because you’re already done with all your finals for the semester doesn’t mean you can hold it over me,” you retaliated.
“yes it totally does,” he replied, laughing.
you grumbled under your breath and pulled out your phone in an attempt to ignore him. mark rolled his eyes and smiled, waiting for you to talk again while he continued munching on his nachos. several minutes passed in relative silence, and eventually you found a meme you wanted to show him, so you were forced to suck it up and acknowledge his presence. you shoved your phone in his face and he jumped before reading the post and laughing (as expected).
he spoke when you pulled the device away. “so you finally decided I was right, huh? done procrastinating now?”
“ughhh, i don’t want to though.”
“if nobody did things they didn’t want to do, then nothing would get done.” you stared at him in total confusion and he backtracked. “okay, that made no sense. how about this?” he grabbed your hand and looked you in the eye. “if you start the project for drawing class then i’ll go get us something to eat.”
“bribing me with food? you should be ashamed of yourself, mark.”
“yeah, yeah, whatever.” mark grinned and moved your legs so he could slide off the couch, grabbing the spare key before leaving the apartment.
much later that night, you were sitting on the same couch looking at your phone before bed. a clatter and then a thud coming from the bedroom raised your concern, and you stood with the intention of finding out what the sudden noise was. on your way to the hallway, you had a moment of common sense and grabbed a pan from the kitchen to potentially defend yourself against an intruder. did i lock my windows? you wondered, not able to remember to save your life.
your heart racing, you swung around the corner into the room. in your shock, you dropped the pan (thankfully, not on your feet) and it clattered to the ground.
there, lying face-up on your bedroom floor, was your best friend mark lee. however, he was entirely clad in a red and blue spandex-like suit from the neck down, and his face appeared to be bleeding. at the sound of the pan hitting the ground, he immediately sat upright and spun around to stare at you, a deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes.
“you’re – you’re spiderman?!” you asked incredulously, feeling faint suddenly.
“i – i – uh…” mark jumped to his feet before quickly removing his suit. the suit crumpling to the floor and leaving him in only a pair of boxers with stars patterned on them. “why do you ask?” he tried in vain to kick the discarded costume aside and crossed his arms over his bare (and very muscled, you might add) chest awkwardly. “who’s spiderman?” he laughed nervously. “i don’t know him.”
you couldn’t believe he was actually attempting to deny what you had clearly seen with your own eyes just a few seconds ago. also, blood was dripping off his face. you put your hands on your hips. “mark, what the hell. i know you’re a superhero. i just saw you wearing the suit. also, you seem to have crawled in through my window for some reason. and…you are bleeding.”
the reality of his injury seemed to catch up with him and he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides. (you were momentarily distracted by the muscles again…how did you never notice how ripped your best friend was??) “look, I’m sorry. but you can’t tell anyone about this, y/n. the only other person who knows this is donghyuck"
you nodded until you looked up to his face again. “donghyuck knows you're spiderman???! ” you practically yelled.
mark rushed forward and pressed his hand over your mouth, the other arm reaching up to grasp your bicep. “shhh! don’t say it so loud,” he whispered, glancing around.
you rolled your eyes and pushed his hand away so you could speak. “oh, come on, there’s nobody else here. my roommate doesn’t come back until later anyway.” now so close to him, you could more clearly see that he had a jagged cut on the side of his face and a black eye on the opposite side. almost unconsciously, you ran a thumb over his non-bruised cheekbone, and he shivered. “okay, who did this to you, mark?”
his grip tightened and he sighed, closing his eyes. “just some bad guys,” he mumbled. “honestly, it’s nothing. i’ve had worse.”
“hush. we gotta get you cleaned up before that cut gets infected, idiot.” a hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you turned away to go find the first aid materials.
after a few minutes, mark padded into your kitchen, where you had pulled a couple of chairs near the small table and spread out the medical supplies. he had apparently discovered the ancient gray pair of sweatpants he left here a couple months ago, but he remained shirtless. “you, uh, seem to be taking this really well,” he commented, rubbing his arm nervously.
you felt your face flush. “oh, trust me – i’m still in shock, but right now I’m focusing on helping you instead of thinking too hard about everything.” you opened the dark brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide and wet a clean cotton ball with the liquid. “all right…get over here.”
“listen, y/n, you don’t actually have to do this – it’ll heal on its own-”
“not if it gets infected it won’t. now come here.”
he seemed to realize that there was no point in arguing with you and gave in. rolling his eyes good-naturedly, he sat across from you in the chair you placed near your own and leaned forward. you lightly dabbed peroxide over the cut, and he hissed. “ow, that stings.”
“sorry!” you quickly apologized. “i should have warned you.”
he smiled for a quick second before grimacing as you continued. “it’s okay, really. i knew it would hurt. i guess i’m just lucky he didn’t get any closer than he did with that kni-” he stopped mid-sentence, sensing your concern. “um, never mind. you can keep going.”
as you carefully cleaned the wound, applied antibiotic ointment, and bandaged your best friend’s face, you noticed he was staring intently at you every time you happened to make eye contact. you could tell you were blushing while the minutes passed at an agonizing pace.
once the wound was wrapped in a protective bandage, you stood to clear the supplies off the table. mark suddenly leaned forward to hug you before you could step away, and once you got over your momentary shock, you hugged him back. “thank you,” he murmured into your arm. after a millisecond of hesitation, you pressed a feather-light kiss to his ruffled hair.
his arm around you squeezed tighter, almost as if he was afraid to let go. your face grew warmer as you felt his thumb brush your side. a few seconds more passed before you slowly tried to pull back, and he finally let go. before you could move too far away, however, mark grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his mouth, tenderly kissing your knuckles. you were stunned into silence, a certain dreamlike quality to his actions.
“is this okay?” he whispered, clutching your hand in his like he was dying and you were the cure.
“yeah,” you breathed in response.
mark stood suddenly, and your brain picked that particular moment to helpfully remember the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and nearly short-circuit. your breath hitched when he gently cupped your cheek in his hand. you could hear your heart pounding in your ears, waiting for his next move.
“is…is it bad if I really want to kiss you right now?” he murmured, meeting your gaze.
you managed to shake your head slowly, mesmerized by his deep chocolate-colored eyes. he stepped closer and you shivered involuntarily, giving your silent consent by closing your eyes as he leaned in.
the pressure of mark's lips against yours was steady, almost asking permission. after half a second, you pushed back and returned the kiss. he released your hand and gently held your face, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks with the softest touch imaginable. both of your hands were freed to find their way into his chestnut-colored hair and around his neck, holding on to him as if your life depended on it.
“i…love…you,” he spoke in between kisses. you smiled against his lips, and he pulled your body towards his with a surprisingly strong arm. mark kissed you again, long and lingering. when you finally broke apart, mark kissed your cheek before resting his forehead on yours.
“you have no idea how much i wanted to do that,” he admitted, gentle laughter shaking his body.
your mouth split open with a joyful grin. “you dork,” you replied breathlessly. “i love you too.” You closed your eyes again, exhaling shakily. when you opened them, mark had an intense look of adoration in his eyes.
“go out with me?” as soon as the words left his mouth, his brain seemed to catch up, and he pulled away quickly, trying to save himself. “um, uh, i mean…will you-”
you laughed, cutting him off. “yeah, mark. i’ll go on a date with you. even if you didn’t ask me the right way.”
he ran a hand through his hair, sighing in relief. “great, i was worried i messed it up for a second – wait, what do you mean ‘the right way’?”
you giggled at his confusion. “come on, mark. we gotta put these things away and get you out of here before my roommate gets back.”
at your bedroom window, mark couldn’t resist giving you one last kiss before pulling the mask on and swinging away with a wink. you pressed your hands to your blushing face, reflecting on the eventful evening.
falling backwards onto your bed, you smiled wide.
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stxrysnow · 8 months ago
Text
— your wounds make me bleed.
synopsis. you, being the oh so powerful sorcerer you are, did not even realise the extent of your injuries until you found out that you couldn't stand without the support of something— after defeating the curse, of course. shoko's busy, so, satoru, being the gentleman he is (and also the strange source of comfort you have) decides to take matters in his own hands— while being a pain in the ass, obviously.
however, you joking about your death does not help— and satoru's carefree façade manages to slip, bringing back some memories he had tried to forget.
genres/themes. satoru gojo x reader, hurt/comfort, satoru and reader are highschool friends (frenemies ?), satoru and reader bicker a lot, satoru being a menace, reader is also a menace (lmaoo), mentions of blood (reader is injured), mentions of satoru's past, reader comforts satoru.
jiah’s notes. i miss him so much that it physically hurts me. send help LMAOO—
word count. 1.8k
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“tsk. and here i thought that you could take care of yourself, at least,” the white-haired man tuts, and you feel yourself roll your eyes to the back of your head for god-knows-what time again— and that of course earns a smirk from him. “how disappointing. and ah, don’t roll your eyes so much. you might just have a view of your non-existent brain and pass out on me. jeez, i wouldn’t want you to dirty my couch.”
“how fascinating to hear that you care about something, satoru,” your voice feigns bewilderment— a simply amazed look in your eyes as you heave a blissful sigh. “at least you’re not as heartless as i thought. hang on there, expensive leather couch.”
“so you’re admitting you’d pass out, and the fact that you don’t have a brain,” satoru huffs out a laugh, finding amusement in the way you let out a small ‘tsk’ of annoyance.
something about satoru comforts you.
no, it isn’t the comfort that people idealise— no physical contact, no silly gifts or acts of service— it was his mere presence that soothed you, while irritating you at the same time. every word that flowed between you two was either a sugary sweet taunt or a blunt insult— yet, you two found solace in each other in a way that was beyond the comprehension of everyone around you.
including you two.
“if not having a brain will make me cope with your ass, then so be it,” a small smirk tugs at the corner of your lips as you watch satoru wrap the bandage in a firm, yet gentle grip around your arm, relishing in the way his eye twitches and his usual shit-eating grin widens in annoyance.
“at least i didn’t get my ass handed back to me by a grade one curse,” the man lets out a scoff. “seriously, how do you even get this beaten-up?”
“hey, ’t wasn’t my fault i only noticed my blood after defeating it,” you say, shifting your position on that damn couch of his, as you felt a sudden urge to fidget with something, “at least it got exorcised.”
“sure,” satoru says, and you swear you could feel him rolling his eyes even through the confines of his blindfold, “very impressive. at least it got exorcised.”
hearing him say those— your— particular words in that mocking, sing-song voice makes an irritated scowl break out into your face, and oh how it makes satoru smile so smugly— making you want to curse the hell out of this menace of a sorcerer.
“you’re applying too much pressure, dumbass,” you mutter, trying not to wince as his fingers tightened the bandages which covered the skin of your hands.
satoru raises a brow, tightening them even more. “deal with it,” he deadpans. “ ’s your fault, ya know? if i keep it loose you’ll start to bleed. again. over my couch.”
the damned couch again.
honestly? you knew that he couldn’t give lesser shits about the furniture, and that he was just saying that to piss you off. and what was even more infuriating was that it was working.
really, years of experience with satoru gojo had changed nothing— and everything in your feelings towards him.
“get it over with the couch, will ya?” it’s your turn to let out an annoyed scoff, which undoubtedly makes the sorcerer let out a snicker of his own.
“sometimes i wonder how you even ended up becoming a sorcerer,” satoru wraps a band-aid around your scratched fingers, “thought you’d leave the job and become a farmer or somethin’, y’know.”
“unlike you, i had spent too much of an effort in the projects yaga gave us in highschool, so there’s no way i’d let it go in vain,” you shake your head, “it would be too embarrassing.”
besides, you’d rather die than see satoru’s laughing face if you ever decided to change your profession just because you weren’t able to handle a curse or two.
“you never change, do you?” satoru huffs out a laugh, and oh god if he didn’t wipe that agonizing smirk off his face within the next second, you’d gladly do the honours— if only you weren't in so much pain, though, “always so damn reckless. it’s a miracle you have me to tend to your wounds, or else just where you be?”
“dead, most probably,” you say with sarcasm dripping down your words, expecting a scoff of amusement in response— but it never came.
you tear your gaze away from the dried gash on your arm to meet satoru's piercing, piercing stare— it was really a wonder how that guy manages to make you feel his eyes bearing into the depths of your soul even though you couldn't quite actually see them because of the shield his blindfold created.
satoru feels a whirl of emotions in him— eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, and you just know that he is not, in fact, amused.
not even in the slightest.
his heart is racing— and if he had his blindfold off, you’d see how his usually bright, azure eyes had a darkened glint in them— something which just screamed out the fact that he was unsettled, uncontrolled— afraid.
as the tense seconds pass, he gives you a little glare, his expression hardening.
“. . that’s not funny,” he utters, before averting his gaze down to your arm. his efficient hands wrap the gauze around your limb almost in a mechanical movement— the little frown never leaving his face, lips pressed into a thin line.
oh.
your gaze softens, watching the sorcerer quietly tend to your wounds, noticing how his gaze lingers on a particularly deep gash on your leg— how his fingers tremble ever so slightly when his touch stays on the burn for a little too long— you notice it, of course you do.
he's thinking about suguru again.
there wasn't quite a time when he didn't— at least he didn’t show it to anyone. but you, you see him for who he is— the lonely man who’s just wanted some love, and not just the title of being ‘the strongest’— the man who still yearns for his best friend to come back, even though he's . . . gone.
you always see through him.
you should've considered your words before joking about something like that, really.
no matter how much of an annoying bastard satoru may be to you, but still, he was satoru to you. not 'the strongest', not the guy who always had that stupid smile plastered on his face at all times, not the guy whom the world saw as undefeatable— no, he was something much, much more.
you watch his tense demeanour threaten to consume him alive— how his hands shake no matter how much he tries to make them steady, how his shoulders go rigid when they were usually slumped carelessly, how his bottom lip quivers— it was just a tiny movement, yet you manage to see.
how could you not see earlier that you words would've affected him? god, you felt so stupid.
“ . . hey,” hearing the soft tone in your voice makes something inside satoru snap— raising his head to forcefully avert his gaze from your injuries to your face— heart beating so loud that he’s unsure whether you wouldn’t have noticed.
but then again, you were you, and satoru was, well . . . satoru.
his eyes widen— seeing you open your arms with that soft, apologetic smile— and before the sorcerer knows, he’s burying his nose into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tight around your injured frame; his lower body on the floor as he nuzzles into your arms on the couch.
most people would’ve hesitated, casted him a wary look of disbelief— the satoru gojo, reduced to a trembling mess just because someone joked about their death? the satoru gojo, who still blames himself for his best friend’s death? the satoru gojo, who’s known as ‘the strongest’— being vulnerable?
indeed, it is the satoru gojo, clinging onto you like a lifeline, large hands of his gripping you so tightly that he's afraid that you might disappear the moment his hold loosens.
your satoru.
arms wrapped around his neck as you shush him, bandaged fingers running through his snowy white strands whilst his shoulders shake— oh how you regretted saying that.
“ . . i hate it when you say stuff like that,” he mutters, and if you didn’t have a knack for noticing subtle things about it, you wouldn’t have seen a barely audible crack in his voice.
“ ’m sorry,” you say in a quiet, soothing tone, pulling away a bit to stare at his face, and god did your heart wrench— satoru's bottom lip was red from him biting on them so much.
gingerly, one of your hands unlatches itself from around his neck, going to gently slip under the hem of his blindfold — as you slowly pull it down, revealing those mystical eyes of his— so terrified that you feel the fear radiating off him.
he seems so, so vulnerable like this— a desperation and fright seizing his entire soul as he stares at you. you cup his cheeks, thumbs caressing his soft, warm skin.
“don’t . . . don’t joke about stuff like that,” he says in breathless, shaky whisper— eyebrows furrowing even more as his breath stutters, and from this moment on you swear to yourself to never say something like that again. not if it hurts satoru.
ever.
“i won’t,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his, “ ’m sorry, satoru.”
you pull his head down so he’s laying it on your chest, arms wrapped around his neck as you massage his scalp soothingly.
satoru’s shoulders relax, his heart easing a bit from hearing your gentle tone, panicked eyes fluttering close as he lets out a small, shaky sigh, burying his face into your chest— so desperate for comfort, for some kind of reassurance that you are okay, that you won’t leave, that you’ll . . .
stay.
you run your hands through his fluffy locks, gently easing the tension that had accumulated within him with simple movements of your fingertips— earning a soft, relaxed sigh from him.
“keep doing that,” you hear him mutter, and you let out a hum in response, continuing to massage his scalp. “don’t . . . don’t stop. please.”
this is how two you seeked comfort from each other.
something that was beyond words— something that was beyond everyone.
including you two.
as you two lay on the couch— two souls craving reassurances from the other— time ticks by, but oh do you care? not even a bit.
“don’t leave me,” satoru whispers, and you find yourself letting out a murmur of approval, caressing his hair. “i was so scared, i can’t lose you too, i—”
“i’ll stay, satoru.”
and so, you do. as long as you’re here with satoru, he has nothing to fear.
as long as you stay.
☆ @stxrysnow on tumblr. do not copy or post any of my works without my permission.
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igorluvr · 11 days ago
Note
Can you do some with nam gyu?
‘ HERE WITH ME
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PAIRING: nam-gyu x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: when you enter the Squid Games, you encounter a particular group of people, and to your surprise, one of them takes a special liking to you.
CONTENT: heavyyyy fluff, he’s a big softie for u, reader replaces gyeong su oops, love at first sight aww, shy!reader, both fall in love too fast
AUTHORS NOTE: first fic !! i didn’t know what to write abt so i came up with my own plot i hope u enjoyyy !!
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word count: [1k]
AFTER the first game, you lost all motivation to keep going. Hours felt like days, eating felt like a chore, and you felt horrible for leaving your little sister alone in the world. You told her it would be just a couple days, that “big sis would be back soon,” but now you knew that you might never reunite—at least not in this lifetime.
Everything felt disgusting. You ran to the bathroom and cried for what felt like hours, feeling like vomiting as you scrubbed the blood and guts off your skin, washing so hard you swore some of the blood was yours. The walk back to your room felt like a death sentence as the smell of bodies grew stronger.
Sitting on your bed, you stared into space, trying to distract your mind from all the carnage. It felt as if the world outside was dead silent, with nothing happening beyond your little bubble. Hunger stabbed at your stomach as everyone else lay asleep. Using the dark, quiet room as an escape, you imagined floating in space, where nothing could hurt you, finally alone with your thoughts and soul.
That peace was abruptly shattered when the lights suddenly blared on, like a siren reminding you of where you were. “Damn,” you thought, “I stayed up the whole night?” The pink-suited guards lined everyone up and loaded them into the colorful hallway, leading to the next game. You weren’t sure if it was due to hunger, lack of sleep, or pure terror, but you felt weak as you walked up the steps, each stomp taking a toll on your body.
You heard from the previous winner that you would be playing dalgona, but when you entered the next room, you were met with two circular rainbows and six lanes. The announcer instructed everyone to form groups of five. Even though you hadn't played many games as a child, it was common sense to know dalgona was not a team game. Had the man lied? Was this really it? You glanced at him, noticing a look of dismay on his face. Maybe he didn’t know either.
As the timer began, everyone formed their groups, leaving you standing alone. The minutes ticked by, and your nervousness grew. You knew waiting for someone to pick you was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak up. Meeting new people had always been tough, and the pressure was tenfold now.
Just as you accepted your fate, a group of four approached you: a tall man with purple hair, a pretty boy with dark, long hair, a girl covered in piercings, and a boy who resembled a baby deer. The man with purple hair introduced himself as Thanos, but you zoned out, fixated on his friend. He stared deeply into your eyes as he fiddled with his rings. You tried to avoid eye contact, but every time you looked up, he was already watching you.
“Um, hellooooo? You deaf or somethin?” Thanos quipped. You snapped back to reality as he explained he wanted you on his team. You nodded, mainly out of necessity, but agreeing nonetheless.
The teams sat in neat rows, preparing for the games ahead. You overheard conversations about who would play which game, but your new team was strangely silent. Thanos and his friend chatted about a necklace, while the other two focused on the competitors. Your nerves ramped up, and you fidgeted with the sleeves of your jacket. The longer-haired boy suddenly tapped your shoulder.
“Hey, you okay?” he murmured. Usually, you would’ve said you were okay, but in this situation, what was the point of lying? You shook your head, and concern washed over his face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. All you could do was shrug. Suddenly, he took your hands and kissed them gently. The warmth spread across your face, leaving you feeling flushed and exposed. Did he know how his words affected you? Were you developing feelings in a place like this?
“It’s all gonna be okay, darling, I promise,” he reassured you. Just then, the girl beside you, Se-mi, interrupted.
“Hey, how about instead of drooling over her, we figure out our games?” she scoffed. You watched as Nam-gyu shot her a venomous glare, transforming his expression entirely.
“Nobody was talking to you, bitch,” he spat, his sudden coldness making your mind whirl. Why was he hostile with her yet soft with you?
As if nothing had happened, he turned back to you. “Which game are you best at, sweetheart?” You barely whispered your answer: “Um... gong-gi, I think.” He immediately understood, and soon after, your team’s games were decided.
Se-mi would play ddakji first, Min-su would follow with flying stone, you’d go next with gong-gi, Nam-gyu would play spinning top, and Thanos would go last with jegi.
When your team was called, fear washed over you. As your knees weakened, you felt Nam-gyu squeeze your shoulder. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna do great.” His words bolstered your confidence more than you could admit.
Each game passed swiftly, and your team finished with eight seconds to spare. As you crossed the finish line, Nam-gyu launched himself at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, making you bounce with excitement. You were enveloped in his scent, overpowering the stench of blood around you. The touch of his hands melted away your worries, and for a moment, you felt truly safe.
As you walked back to the rooms, a smile formed on your lips. Was he genuinely interested in you?
When you settled into bed, a few moments of silence were interrupted by the sound of the bed creaking beside you.
"You did sooo good in gong-gi. Your hands were literally moving like a ninja" he praised, beaming with admiration. You giggled, "It was nothing, really."
He crawled closer, intertwining his fingers with yours, you loved this habit he’d picked up. “I’m so proud of you. You looked nervous, but you pushed through and helped us win,” Nam-gyu chuckled. You responded with nothing but a shy smile; words didn’t feel like enough. You turned your face the other way so he wouldn't see how much his words affected you
“Don’t hide your pretty face, you’re cute when you smile,” he said, fingers lifting your chin to meet his gaze. The compliment made you smile brightly.
“There she is—there’s my girl,” he added, inching closer until he was almost spooning you. You melted against him, relieved to have someone to stay beside in this chaos. As time passed, nothing else mattered. It was unlike how time slowed before, this time it was a comfortable passing. His hand played with your hair, scratching your scalp in a soothing rhythm. 
“You remember how nervous you were when you first went up to play?” he asked, his voice low and playful. “You were a disaster, but it was the most adorable disaster I’ve ever seen.”
You chuckled softly, warmth pooling in your chest and comfortability blooming. “You were just as bad, you dropped the spinning top across the floor”
“Well, I had to make sure you didn't feel alone in your clumsiness,” he teased, his breath tickling your ear. The closeness felt intoxicating, and you turned your head slightly to catch a glimpse of him. 
“You’d better not mess up like that again. You’re the only person here I actually like” you said, nudging him with your shoulder.
His gaze softened for a bit, like he was admiring you, then quickly flashed back. “Only if you promise to stay by my side forever,” he replied, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Always,” you whispered, feeling an undeniable connection grow between you.
As the laughter settled, the world around you faded into the background, like you were in your own little bubble. He leaned in closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead that sent a shiver down your spine.
“When we get out, I’m gonna take you to my club so we can have a proper party together, get you out of that shell” he suggested, a grin spreading across his face. “Yea?”
“Yea, I’d like that, just make sure those girls aren’t all over you” you replied, smiling against him playfully.
“Oh don’t worry, Imma show you all off. Everyone’s gonna know you’re mines.” He chuckled, proceeding to place a soft kiss on your cheek.
The more than friendly banter made your heart swell, and you cuddled into his side, feeling a fuzzy warmth. You could see a future painted vividly in your mind—one filled with laughter, love, and euphoria.
Soon, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms, wrapped in a sense of warmth and possibility. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope flickered in your heart, igniting the feeling that maybe, against all odds, you could find light in this dark world together. In that moment, everything felt right, and you couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else but here—with him.
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timmydraker · 2 months ago
Text
Tim always has his neck covered.
In photos taken by paparazzi or news articles he’ll be wearing a turtle neck, scarf or the occasional choker.
Around the manor he wears similar things but it’s more often he wears a thick band around his throat. It might be a velvet choker or a sort of sweat and like accessory. Sometimes, if it’s hot or he feels safe and confident, he will wear a thick strip of ribbon that he’ll tie in a bow at the back.
Tim’s Robin suit was altered to make sure his neck was covered after Bruce figured out he was wearing the bands during patrol and began to worry about it being a chance for him to be choked. If it’s not, he has an undershirt that’s thin and goes up to his chin.
He doesn’t eat in public very often and it leads some people to think he had some kind of issue with swallowing or maybe some kind of defect or hole in his throat.
Obviously everyone is curious, from the public to his own parents.
But Tim is a master of getting people to look away.
It’s when Jason comes back to Gotham as Red Hood and attacks Titan Tower than the reason behind is revealed.
Various non-fatal injuries are given to Tim, who of course, figures that is because Red Hood didn’t want to kill him so much as make it so he couldn’t be Robin, but it’s not all that important when other wounds are added and the slice has cut his turtle neck open.
Blood and his hand rushing up to cover his throat is the only cover for what’s under the fabric until he’s in the medical room at the Cave.
Tim is out by the time rescue comes and doesn’t wake for a while.
Which gives his family enough time to go through the grief of witnessing the horror on his neck.
There, between slight tan markings and surrounded by dried blood and a small cut, is a mouth.
It looks like a scar at first, but with some prodding the lines of the ‘scar’ split open and it’s revealed to be two pursed lips that concealed disturbing needle teeth, a nasty forked tongue limp within the unnatural mouth. It’s like something out of a horror movie, as wide as half of Tim’s neck and somehow replacing the usual parts of a throat and neck.
Alfred stands back in shock, same with Leslie, and the two look at each other in confusion.
Wordlessly, Leslie covers up the monstrous mouth with some spare bandages and the two continue to work.
Bruce, who had been nervously watching with a pacing Dick through the window of the makeshift med at in the Cave, feels dread in his stomach at the sight.
Part of it is admittedly because he feels he let a being like Tim be Robin, but it’s more so that the sweet boy with a too quick snark and brain had seemingly been hiding his Meta like ability from everyone. His parents weren’t aware of why Tim hid his throat, which means he wasn’t born with it or it developed later on.
Dick, who loves with his entire heart, can’t help himself from feeling disturbed by his youngers inhuman feature.
Yet they pull it together and with mutual understanding, decide they will find a way to figure this out and adjust to this new reality.
So, when Tim wakes up and immediately checks his throat is covered, Bruce gives him an unused look of being sorry and holds his hand.
“I… we had no choice, your neck was bleeding but-“ he takes a breath and his expression changes to determination, “I understand why you hid your, um…”
Tim in a quiet voice as he forces himself not to freak out mutters, “mutation.”
Bruce smiled at his intellectual son, “Mutation. Dick said you might be worried I would make you leave and I swear to you, Tim, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne, that you will never be made to leave this place. This is your home, that will not change.”
It takes a moment for Tim to fully process what had been said to him and he begins to shake, tears threatening to fall as he brings a hand to cover his throat.
“Are you-are you scared of it?”
Of me?
Bruce feels guilt form in his stomach and moved without thinking, pulling his heavily injured child into his arms and kissing his head, “Never, not now and not ever. I admit I was… unsure of how to react at first, but I know you Tim.”
Tim begins to sob then, clinging to Bruce and forgetting all the pain and panic he woke up with to feel the embrace of his mentor.
It’s enough to make Dick’s penitence snap and he moves into the room and joins their hug, squeezing them both tightly as possible.
When they pull back, Tim sees them both glance at his throat and sucks in a deep breath.
Dick raises a hand to his free one and says, “you don’t have to show us if you don’t want to.” But Tim shakes his head and pulls the bandage off carefully.
“I don’t want to hide anymore, not if I don’t have to.”
There, below his chin, is the mouth.
Now that he is awake, the mouth is more active. Its tongue lolls out for a moment, licking over the sharp teeth before flicking and slinking back inside.
When Tim speaks again the mouth doesn’t move, though it does seemingly smile, “It doesn’t talk, that’s kind of the only reason I still have the one on my face. I need to eat with this one though and it can be anything, organic or not.”
Dick looks on with wonder, pushing away his nerves to support his brother.
Bruce looks like he’s itching to do test or ask questions, and Tim smiles gratefully at him and does his best to supply what he does know, “It started to form when I was three but didn’t open until I was six and by then I found I couldn’t eat with my main mouth. It was when I found myself chewing on my fork and the metal broke and I ate it safely I realised I can eat all material.”
Smiling shyly, Tim searches the back of his head and says, “Steal taste the best.”
When Dick snorts a laugh and Bruce raises a curious eyebrow, Tim looks around and finds a spare pencil beside him on the side table.
The two watch as Tim’s entire head falls backwards for his gaunt mouth to open, looking almost like he’s been half decapitated.
The younger shoots out, wraps around the pencil, and then crushes its with strength and teeth until he swallows it down and his head falls back into place.
Bruce breaks and starts asking questions while Dick pokes at his brothers neck.
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